Remember How I Love You (Sequel to 'Through Fire and Water')

Almost

Ana's P.O.V.

Today the world outside is bright and warm, the ground is still a little damp but it's hardly enough to worry about. I spend the whole morning meekly doing as I'm told, helping Hellebore when he asks and resting my ankle when he tells me to. The whole time I keep glancing out of the window at the bright sunshine, expecting Hellebore to at least mention the glorious weather, to at least start up a conversation of when I might be able to go home. But he doesn't say anything of the sort. He talks endlessly about his life, telling me about his parents and about how his life has been ever since they died. At lunchtime he talks me through what he's cooking and gets me to help, and while we eat he talks to me about his favourite parts of the forest and how he found them.

By the evening I feel I know almost everything there is to know about Hellebore, but he never once mentions me going home. I can't help but wonder why, can't help but to doubt his motives. He has no reason to keep me here of course, I am nothing but a burden to him and I'm sure he will be glad to see the back of me. But why then will he not take me home?

Perhaps he is lonely, perhaps he enjoys the company and hates the idea of being alone again. But I would visit him, I'm sure of that, after everything he's done I could easily consider him a friend. Perhaps it is his hatred for Thranduil, he may simply not wish to go near him. But he doesn't know my connection to the king, he wouldn't need to have anything to do with him. So why will he not take me?

But I promised not to nag him anymore about taking me home, I must just have a little faith that his intentions are honourable and I am merely being unnecessarily suspicious.

The sun is setting and the forest outside is disappearing into darkness, along with another day that I can't tell my family I'm ok, another day I can't hold my children and tell them I love them, when Hellebore calls me from my room.

"I was promised stories of crazy things" Hellebore says as I enter the sitting room, slowly hobbling along.

"I said maybe, but I suppose I might as well. It's not like we have anything better to do, I'll only spend the evening staring into the darkness outside missing home otherwise" I reply. I throw in the mention of home in the hope of some kind of reaction and I catch Hellebore's eyes as I do. His face remains the same, but it seems to be set in stone now. The warmth from his eyes is replaced with a cold hardness, something I can't read. It's only for an instant, before he recovers himself and smiles. We gloss over my mention of home, although we both know that there's some kind of hostility now that neither of us will let show.

Hellebore gestures to one of the seats by the fire and takes the other himself. "I'm not exactly an expert storyteller" I say, apologising in advance for my poor storytelling skills.

"You're a mother, Ana, of course you're a good storyteller. Now come on, what kind of recklessness can you boast?"

I take a moment, carefully composing the modified version of the stupid things I've done in the past, censored to leave out any mention of royalty or indeed anything remarkable beyond what he already knows.

"Well I already told you that my parents died when I was a small child. After that I was raised as a small part of Lord Elrond's house in Rivendell, it was Elrond's ward who found me and so it was with Elrond's house I stayed. And boy was it boring"

I talk for what must be hours, remembering every reckless thing I've done, every time I got bored and slipped away to do something stupid. Hellebore listens intently, probably cementing his impression of me as a careless idiot, but he seems happy to do so. The fire crackles away comfortingly and as I talk I realise why Hellebore lives here, because inside these walls nothing from outside matters anymore. For a couple of hours the outside world doesn't exist and I can almost feel at home here, I'm almost glad for everything which led to me meeting Hellebore. Almost. There's still something which makes me hold back, something which doesn't seem quite right about this safe little corner of the forest with the homely fire and selfless rescuer. It's just a little too perfect somehow.