The Eye of His Dark Majesty

The Fire Between Us

Authors Note: Hi ya'll! This chapter is a bit long but it had a lot in it. If you want shorter chapter let me know in the comments. This was also one of my faves to write. If you know the feeling of reeling from an emotionally unstable situationship you will relate to this one. It's toxic but SOO good. Hope you guys enjoy!!

I barely slept that night. Not like the night before, wrapped in Halbrand's arms. That was the only real rest I'd known since leaving Númenor. I'd felt a peace I hadn't allowed myself for so long, but it was dangerous—letting my guard down with him, even for one night, was reckless. Now, without him beside me, every sound in the camp snapped me awake: the crackling fire outside, the distant murmurs of guards on their rounds, and the wind that seemed to cut right through the thin fabric of the tent. I was surrounded by other healers, but in the cold dark, I felt alone, a restless ache hollowing me from within.

By dawn, I gave up on sleep entirely. I slipped out of the tent, my breath misting in the brisk morning air, and quickly pulled on my clothes. I hadn't realized how accustomed I'd become to Númenor's temperate mornings until now—this raw chill bit right to the bone. Wrapping myself as tightly as I could, I walked out to find the company preparing to leave. Men were gathering their gear, fastening weapons to their belts, and checking armor. The sight of them, all so focused, sent a thrill of anticipation and a twinge of fear through me.

Standing a little apart from the others, Galadriel's golden hair caught the early light like a banner. She was already in deep conversation with a few of the key officers. Beside her was Elendil, tall and commanding as ever, and his presence always brought a kind of reassurance, a reminder of Númenor's strength. But then my gaze shifted to the last figure standing near them, and my heart stopped. Ereclion.

I didn't believe it at first, convinced I was still half in a dream. My mind struggled to catch up with what I was seeing. Ereclion, my own brother, here in the midst of hardened soldiers. His armor was fitted and shined, his face resolute, even proud, but he looked out of place among these men of war. My heart twisted painfully. What was he doing here?

I hurried over, my feet stumbling slightly as I struggled to keep my composure. My voice, tight with worry, slipped out before I could help it. "What's going on?" I asked, looking between Galadriel and Ereclion, hoping someone would make sense of this.

Galadriel's face was calm but unyielding. "Your brother volunteered," she said, as if it were the simplest thing in the world. "We need every capable soldier we can gather right now, Morena."

I turned to Ereclion, feeling something between relief and panic clawing at my insides. Relief that he was here, safe for the moment—but fear, overwhelming fear, that he would be put in danger in the days ahead. "Ereclion..." I started, reaching out as if to pull him away, back to the safety of Númenor, back to the one place where nothing could reach him. "This isn't... you shouldn't be here." My voice was barely a whisper.

He met my eyes, his jaw set stubbornly. "I wanted to help," he said softly, his tone resolute. "I couldn't let you go off alone, Morena. You're my sister."

I wanted to say something, to make him understand that this was different, that this wasn't a duty for him, that he didn't have to prove anything. But before I could speak, I felt a brush against my back, so faint I nearly thought I imagined it. I stiffened, and out of the corner of my eye, I saw him—Halbrand. He slipped behind me, moving with quiet purpose, and his hand grazed me for the briefest of moments. He barely looked my way, and yet his presence sent a jolt through me, leaving me unsettled and wary.

Galadriel's gaze remained on us, and I realized that she, too, sensed my hesitation. I needed to speak to her alone. "Galadriel, may I have a word?" I asked quickly, my voice barely concealing the urgency.