Chapter Ten

Haldir was right. It was dark by the time I reached the cedar woods across the boulder field. The moon was hardly visible except for the small flashes of white that penetrated the thick canopy. I moved slowly through the trees, pausing here and there to catch sight of the moon. The pine needles helped to cushion my footfall, but I was fairly sure that there was no one within a mile or so of this area. Haldir would make sure of that.

As I went along, I thought of everything my brother told me, focusing mainly on my father. I thought that the more time I spent analyzing it, the more I'd come to question my father's actions. After all, he'd watched as another elf was overcome by the enemy, and did nothing to help. But then I looked at his reasons for doing it. Carfor had put my father into a corner that there was no way of getting out of, unless he gave up his son's secret. He could have done that, I guess. Then neither Carfor nor my father, or any of their sons for that matter, would still be with the army. That left a lot of well-trained soldiers to become ordinary citizens. Haldir would not be March Warden during such a hostile time. Raenor, for the same reason, would not be Warden of the East. Say what you want about the ellon, he was a very good leader. Slightly mislead by his hunger for power, but good at his job, nonetheless. I worried about what else he might try. I didn't want to see Haldir end up having to make a similar decision like our father did. I didn't think he would though, especially now that we had cleared the air between us. Together we would see to it that Raenor would run out of ways to make our lives miserable. It wasn't all that bad, though. The Lórien Three always found the humor in it once things were put right again. I believed that we would be alright. We would move on and fight our battles, and always come out as three. Together, we were indestructible.

I stopped to check the position of the moon again, and could not find it. I was here, the hidden hut in the boughs of the cedars. I didn't have to wait long to wonder if Túron was above me.

"I hoped that you'd come," Túron said from the trees.

"I hoped that you'd still be here," I answered. "Now, how do I get up the bloody tree?"

"Wait, there's a rope. Watch your head," he called down. I stepped aside and a thick rope with knots along its length spilled over the side. I wasn't dressed to climb a rope, and took off my cape, unpinning the brooch at my throat. It was green and silver, in the shape of a mallorn leaf. It had belonged to my mother, and she left it to me when she sailed. It was very precious to me. Even more so were these few short hours that I had left with Túron, so I hastened up the rope. When I got close to the top, I felt Túron's hand grasp my wrist. I grasped his with the same hand, noticing the jolt it gave me to feel his flesh upon mine. With his help, I soon found myself standing before him, tall and lovely with his dark hair unbound, wearing a simple tunic and leggings. Gone were the servant's robes, and any other trace of Lothlórien upon his person. Only his straight dark brown hair spoke of his Noldor race. I suddenly wondered who this elf was. Was any of what he'd told me about himself true?

"It's good to see you, Rúmil. I've missed you," he said with sincerity.

"It's been a while, but I'm glad to be with you once more," I replied.

"Once more, you say." His smile faded as he looked to the floor. "Ai, I wish it didn't have to be."

"It can be no other way, Túron, but I would share in that wish with you." I was amazed at how easy it was to be with him, even after everything that happened. I guess that's why I was not hesitant in getting to my questioning. "Your name is Túron, isn't it? Or is that part of your servant's façade?"

"It is not my birth name, but I haven't gone by that name for a very long time. Túron is what I tell everyone, though. Would you like to know what it is?"

"If you are willing to tell me," I said.

"Only my family know me by this name, and now you. It is Rávon."

"I think that name suits you better. Why did you change it?" It meant free-spirited, untamed, and just how I pictured him.

"Like I told you before, I was forced to leave Rivendell, so I left my life behind to begin a new one, even my name," he explained.

I narrowed my eyes as I tried to read him, but it was difficult. "And the story you told me?" I asked.

"All true, and might I add that not many know that much about me. I don't live there anymore, and I can never return because of my involvement with a captain. I am an archer, but I was trained as a scout. When I left Rivendell, I traveled long and far, and eventually found my calling as a spy. Since I belonged to no single realm, it was easy for me to adjust and conform to any situation. I go here and there looking for people who might need my services, introduce myself, get the job done, make my profit, and slip out before anyone knows I've been there."

"My brother tells me you did not take your fee. Why?"

"I … couldn't, not after meeting you. It didn't seem right after that. I think a part of me wished I could finally settle into a normal routine for a while. Guess I'm moving on again. Shame though. I think Lothlórien suited me more than anywhere else I've visited. Despite what you might think, I actually liked playing a servant. I made a few good friends." He moved closer to me until I could feel the heat from his body, and he took my chin in his fingers. "And found one very good lover." He leaned forward and kissed me. I didn't resist.

When he released me, I looked deep into his blue eyes. It was still there, the love we'd shared. He was no different from the elf I had met so many months ago, except that he wasn't quite as mysterious as before. The veil had come down, and I knew that he had always been his true form when he was with me. That was comforting to know. I worried that the Túron I'd fell for was not the same as the spy. Others might argue the fact, but not me.

As I had made my way to the hidden cabin, I'd told myself that I wanted to talk to him, ask him all sorts of questions, find out who he was, where he'd come from, where he was going. I thought I would drag every truth from him, and that I would need to do this in order to feel like I really knew him. But in the one kiss we shared, I needed no more proof. What I needed, what I wanted was to become one with him, but I was afraid to let myself go so easily, and I pushed away from him and entered the small hut. Túron stayed on the platform outside the doorway, and let me explore alone, for I was exploring more than my surroundings. I was considering what I would allow my heart to feel, whether I could risk leaving a part of it with Túron, and come out of the whole thing unscathed. But just like war, there were always battle scars. I think it was already too late to see my heart without a blemish upon it.

"I never knew my brother had a secret place," I said to change the tension between us. I could have easily found myself naked beside him, but I didn't want to rush into it. I wasn't sure yet if I would let things go that far. I was also fooling myself to think that I'd leave before sunrise without knowing his flesh once more.

"I'm a very good judge of character; I have to be in my line of work. But I honestly would never have guessed about your brother."

"You know? Did he tell you?" I wondered.

"When we began to piece together Raenor's plan, he kind of had to tell me. I hope you know I'll never share that information with anyone. Haldir's secret, as well as yours, shall never pass my lips. I swear my life upon that." He seemed worried that I wouldn't believe him. He was a spy, after all, and they usually traded information. I needed no convincing, though. I still trusted Túron with my secret.

"I believe you," I smiled to ease his worry, and looked around the small room. There was nothing in here except three sawn tree trunks, two for seats and one for a table of sorts, and a hand-stuffed mattress barely big enough for two. Folded and laying at the foot of the mattress was a blanket. There was nothing else, but I guess this was only meant to be a retreat, not permanent housing.

I heard a shuffle at the door and looked over my shoulder. Túron was leaning against the frame, watching me with intense desire. He was just as eager as I was to get the evening underway, but that was not the only reason I came. I didn't want to make this about sex. Túron meant more to me than just a good lay. "You say my brother hired you. Where did you meet him?"

"He was on his way back from Mirkwood after meeting with the elven King. He'd made camp, and I noticed his fire in the distance. I asked to share it with him. It had been several weeks since I'd seen anyone along my travels. It was completely by chance that we met out in the middle of nowhere. I usually meet my clients in small towns and villages. Anyways, we got talking, I learned of his dilemma and offered my services." As he spoke, Túron came into the room and stood next to me. I felt his arm brush against mine and moved to have a seat on one of the tree trunks. I moved as casually as possible, not wanting to make him feel uncomfortable. "Have you ever been to Mirkwood?" he asked.

"Gods, no," I said. "Heathens, the Wood elves … burrowing underground like the dwarves, slobbering over riches, unconcerned with the world outside."

"So you're not overly fond of them, then," he commented with a quirk of a smile.

"My brother went there to ask that the King contribute some of his troops in the fight against the orc raids, which have been steadily on the rise. If we are to win this war against the black evil that swarms out of Dol Guldur, then we must all participate. The King said all he cared about were his people, his house and his throne. He would use all his resources for his own. Haldir told him that if he would not help the other realms, then he should not expect any help from the outside. The King merely laughed and said he never wanted anyone's help, and that Lothlórien would do good not to call upon him again. So the rich King coils around his treasure like the dragons of old, and keeps his people buried beneath the ground in a forest so dark that it has not seen the sun in centuries. Evil spreads unchecked in that forsaken place. He is nothing but a hoarder, but where will that get him when the dark forces rise for the final war? Eventually, even the elven king will not be able to ignore the world, but it will be too late."

"Hmm," Túron muttered. "Well, everyone is entitled to their opinion I suppose." I was about to argue the point with him, but I stopped when I felt his hands on my shoulders. One hand slipped inside my tunic, and then his lips were kissing the back of my ear. "I didn't come here to talk politics, unless that is how you'd like to spend our last few hours together."

"No," I whispered. "But I don't know what I want from this meeting, either. I came here to talk to you, to find out the truth about you … about us."

"And are you satisfied so far?" he asked, his warm breath upon my neck.

"I believe all that you've told me. I trust that you've been honest, though I'm sure there is much more about you that I do not know. There's not enough time for that now."

"You know all you need to know about me, and I hope you know how my heart feels. I do love you, Rúmil," he confessed. "It's been a very long time since I've felt this way about anyone, and the last time it happened, I was scorned by my lover."

"I would not do that to you, and I wish things were different. But we have already chosen our paths, and there is no turning from it now," I said honestly.

"No, there isn't, least of all for you." He released me and went back to the door. I feared he had changed his mind and might leave, but he stopped in the threshold and grasped the doorframe on each side, gazing out into the trees. It was so quiet I could hear my own heart beating, and wondered if Túron could hear it too. The scent of the trees burned into my memory, green and earth, just like Túron's own aura. From now on, if I ever scented another pine forest, I would be thrown back to this night, I was sure of it.

"Do you think there will ever be a time when we can live as we want, just you and me?" he asked from the doorway.

"Perhaps, but I think it will be a very long time until then. You will have forgotten me by then, I'm sure." I don't know why I said that last comment. Maybe I was trying to let him go so he would be free to find the life he sought, but with someone else. Whatever the reason, it didn't seem to sit well with Túron. He turned to me, his body silhouetted against the dim light coming in through the door. I couldn't see his face very well; we'd only a single candle burning for light, but I could sense his unease.

"Should I forget you?" he asked warily. It suddenly registered why he asked this.

"That's what he told you, isn't it … your Rivendell lover. He told you to leave, to never come back and to forget anything had ever happened between the two of you."

Túron didn't say anything, but I knew I was right. I stood from the log and rushed to him, taking him into my arms and held him tight. "I would never want that, for I will never forget you, and I'll carry in my heart the hope that one day we will return to each other. It might not happen upon these shores, but perhaps when we return to the Blessed Realm, we will finally be together. I do want that, Túron, I really do."

"Let's not speak of it anymore. We only have a short time left, and I want to be in the moment with you … not the past, not the future … just you and I, here and now." He kissed me, hard and urgent. I'd felt the moisture on his cheeks, but I ignored it. To know his feelings for me were that strong was all I needed to know from here on out. I don't think either one of us wanted to close our hearts to anyone else. Yes, we loved each other, and we both hoped to be together again. That time would not come for a long while, and lots could happen before then. We silently agreed that we should continue on without burden. Only the gods knew if we were destined for each other, but right now we had one another. It would have to suffice, and it did. If we never met again, I would be satisfied knowing that I'd experienced this moment with Túron. No one could take that away.

I let go and stopped thinking, and gave myself over to the feeling of having Túron in my arms again. It felt good. It felt right. "Come away from the door," I said when we came up for air. I pulled him into the hut and towards the bed. He followed easily, our eyes never leaving each other. The next thing I knew, we were undressing each other as fast as our fingers and hands would allow. It only took a moment, and we were naked before one another. By the gods, he was gorgeous. He had these thick dark brows that made him look dangerous, and those ruby lips parted as he breathed rapidly. Even in the dim light of the candle, I could see the blue of his eyes sparkling, watching me, examining me from head to toe. I can't begin to explain the feeling of having someone caress your whole body with nothing more than a look. It was the most erotic thing I've felt. His eyes would pause as they traveled down my body … chest, stomach, cock. I thought I'd come undone before he even touched me, but I regained my composure. Returning the favor, I examined him too, but when I got to his lower region, I was completely taken by my desire to taste him, and fell to my knees.

He was long and solid and silky, and he tasted of the sea. And then his fingers entwined around my silver hair, pulling me to him further still. I was gloriously trapped, a victim to his mercy, and nothing had ever felt so damned good. Then he stiffened and went rigid, and I swallowed every last bit that pulsed from him. I could feel his legs quiver as he finished, and then he collapsed on the mattress. Túron laid on his back, breathing heavily, starring at the ceiling, a ridiculous smile on his face. He looked so young at that moment; I'd never forget his expression. It made me love him even more.

"Gods, Rúmil, what have you done to me? I'm a trembling mess," he said with laughter in his voice.

I crawled onto the makeshift bed beside him, and watched as he recovered. "The night is still young. You'll have your chance at revenge. And I look forward to it too."

"Oh, I'll see you curled up in a ball before I'm through with you," he challenged.

I traced a finger over his chest, outlining the definitions of breast and abdomen. "What do you do to keep yourself in such good shape?" I asked.

"I had you for that, for a while at least," he jested. "Actually, I still practice sword play, and I shoot my bow as often as possible. I may not be a soldier, but while traveling alone in the world, I need to protect myself from orcs or thieves. Most likely, it's thieves. I try to stay clear of the other."

"That will become more and more difficult as the days darken. War is coming. The enemy is growing. You should be extra careful out there," I said, a touch of worry upon my voice.

"Aye, I shall be from here on out. Don't' fret for me, Rúmil. I'm quite clever, and I don't go looking for trouble," he answered to make me feel better.

"Where do you think you'll go?" I wondered.

"Well, I could make my way to the Great West Road, perhaps head towards Gondor. There's plenty of villages along the way. Or I might make for Harlond, spend some time on the Gulf of Lune. I would go by the Shire if I did that. Long as it been since I've seen the Hobbits. They are some of my best clients. Always some kind of drama happening in Hobbiton, you know." He smiled and his eyes shone with mirth as he spoke of the Halflings.

"I hadn't known you'd met Hobbits before. What are they like?" I asked curiously.

"They are loyal and kind, protective of their home and their families. They often argue amongst themselves, but they never go to bed angry. They'd bend over backwards for a neighbor in need. It's a very peaceful, relaxing place to visit, if you don't mind walking hunched over when you go inside their homes and businesses." Túron laughed at this. "It's no problem for me. I spend most of my time there outside, and I sleep amongst the stars and the rolling hills as green as emeralds."

"Sounds very pleasing," I said.

"Well, you know what would please me," he whispered as he rolled on top of me. His knee nudged my thighs apart.

"I think I have a fairly good idea," I answered, submitting to him. Whatever he wanted from me tonight, I would give him without hesitation, and right now, he wanted me.

Our bodies contoured to each other perfectly. Our lengths lined up side by side as he writhed his hips against mine. Then he moved so that I could bring my legs around his waist. We were already prepared with a bottle of sunflower oil that Túron had brought with him. We slid together easily, our bodies becoming one, our souls calling to each other. He made love to me tenderly, allowing ourselves to experience each moment, and put it to memory. And slowly we eased our way closer and closer to the finale of our climactic event. He collapsed on top of me and I held him to me as we rode the last waves of ecstasy. Túron was trembling again. I wondered if he'd ever trembled in his Rivendell lover's arms, and came to my own conclusion that he did not.

The evening carried on in this fashion, bouts of conversation followed by tender love making, until we were completely spent, and were too tired to carry on any longer. I desperately tried not to fall asleep, and I told him as much.

"I don't want to miss a single moment with you, Túron. If I sleep, I'll be wasting precious time that I could be touching you or listening to your stories."

"I know, love, I feel the same, but my eyes will not cooperate, and neither will my body. You've exhausted me. But we can sleep in each other's arms. Perhaps we'll continue on in our dreams." Even as he spoke, his voice began to slow and fade as sleep overtook him. I pulled him against me and draped my arm around his middle.

"Then let us sleep for just a bit. There's not much time left before I must leave, and I want to make love to you … one … more … time before. . ." And just like that, sleep captured me.

"I will always love you, Rúmil," I heard him say before dreams consumed me.

I woke up thinking that I'd only been asleep for a few minutes. It was still dark, but it was difficult to tell what time it was in this thick forest. No light yet penetrated through the close growing boughs of the cedars. I was sure there was still time left for. . .

The first thing I noticed was that the bed beside me was cold. I reached out and found it empty. "Túron," I called desperately. There was no answer. "Túron, are you still here?" I thought he might have gone out to take a piss. There was no light in the small hut. We'd forgot to blow out the candle and it had burned itself down to the base.

The room was deathly quiet, but for the sound of the first stirrings of life outside. A lark, I thought, and I felt my heart fall. Morning was already upon us. I had to hurry and be on my way. I called for him again, but there was still no answer. Gone for water? Food? He wouldn't just leave, would he? Every fiber of my being told me that he was not here, that he'd left long ago, and I'd missed his last goodbye, just as I'd feared.

I felt around in the dark room, crawling on hands and knees. I hit something and it smelled of oil. The bottle, I'd tipped it over. Then my clothes would be towards the foot of the makeshift bed. They were still there in a pile right where I'd left them, but there was no pile next to them. Túron was dressed.

I got to my feet and went to the door. When I opened it, a bit of morning light seeped into the room. I was alone. Everything of Túron's was gone. The rope hung over the edge of the platform. He was gone.

I hoped he wouldn't go like this, but deep down I knew he would leave before I awoke. We had both been dreading the moment we would have to part. I played it over and over many times in my head, but every time, I could not find the strength to walk away from him. I guess he felt the same, and thought it was better to go while I was in dreams. Then we wouldn't actually have to say our farewells to each other. It should have been me, I thought. I should have left first, sparing him from having to do it. If I'd only forced myself not to sleep. I had to admit, though, it was the best sleep I'd had in a very long time. I didn't think I'd ever sleep that sound again.

The sun was rising, and with it a slight breeze swirled around my naked form. I stood in the doorway, watching the day come alive around me, feeling trapped in time, as though I had nothing to look forward to. Somehow I dressed and made my way down the rope ladder. The boulder field, the river, it was all a blur. I would go back to the city, back to the base, to my office, and I'd start my day as if nothing ever happened, as though I'd never left. But I could still smell Túron's aura on me, even though he'd been gone for hours, green and earth, his scent.

Officers came and went with orders or requests. Paperwork was finished and sent to my brother. Approval was swift. Orders were written up and sent out to the soldiers, and I moved like a mindless machine, performing the motions without thought. We were moving out in two days. Just as well, I said to myself. There was nothing for me here.

I didn't think Túron's leaving would affect me like this. I thought I prepared myself, but now that he was really gone, my heart solidified like lava flowing into the sea, blackened and hardening quickly as it touched the water. The only thing that kept it from completely cooling and turning to stone was the fact that I would soon be engaged in war. I was at my best when I had to fight. I could forget about my sadness for a while, and turn my energy into a battle cry. My hands itched to hold my bow. I couldn't wait to feel the tension of the strings cutting into my fingers, and the softness of the fletching upon my cheek as I lined up my shot.

The end of the first day, that's what I called it as I sent out the last of my orders. The messenger left my office and I was alone. The end of the first day without Túron. Where had the time gone? This time yesterday, I was making my way to the cedar wood. Today, it seemed like it was all a dream. Where was he, I thought? Did he go east or west? Was he ever really there in the cabin? Was I? Had I imagined all of it and any moment Túron was going to walk through my office door?

"You're a fool if you think that," I told myself as I stood and shuffled a few papers on my desk. My cloak was laying over the arm of a chair, and as I reached for it, I felt something inside one of the pockets. I hadn't noticed it this morning, for I carried it instead of wearing it. There was a roll of parchment tied with a ribbon. I'd seen this bit of cloth before. Túron had worn it as part of his servant's attire. The men tied them around their heads to match the women who wore a circlet of flowers. I took a moment and felt the silky lavender ribbon slip through my fingers. Then I slipped it off the parchment and unrolled the paper. It was a letter written in the neat hand of my lover. He always did like to have the last word, I laughed to myself.

He had decided to go west and follow the Great Road towards Gondor. That was good to know, but I worried for him. The road was not a safe place for a traveler these days. Hobbiton would have been a safer bet, but then, Túron liked adventure. Of course he would go west.

I continued reading the letter. . .

'I hope you don't mind, but I took your brooch. I realized that I had nothing of yours to keep with me. It's silly, I know, but I'll feel closer to you when I hold it in my hand, or wear it upon my breast. In return, I've given you the only thing I had upon my person, my ribbon. It's not an even trade, but I think you'll understand.'

My brooch, my mother's piece that she gave me. I smiled. "I never told him where it came from. I'm glad he has it though," I said as I tied the silk ribbon around my wrist. "A fair enough trade, my love." I read on.

'I'm sorry I left like I did, but I think you understand why. If I didn't, we might never have left that cabin. Which one of us could have said goodbye first? Which one would have been the first one to walk away? I couldn't do it, and I didn't want you to have to be the one. That's why I left while you were sleeping. It was easier that way.

By the gods, Rúmil, have you any idea how much I love you? I never could express that to you, though I wanted to. Yes, I had spoken the words, but not with my whole heart, for fear that I would alter the course you had already chosen. Maybe it is a bit arrogant of me to think that way, but I hope that you love me that much too. No, that's wrong of me to say. I don't want you to think I don't know, because I do. I know you love me that much.

We could have made it work, if things hadn't fallen apart that horrible night. I hope you know that I was willing to be with you, even in secret. That is my biggest regret. We never got the chance to see how it would have worked. But I know how important your career is, and with only a split second to make a decision, I chose to save you and sacrifice what might have been between us. After all, I was hired to keep watch over you. Just like it is your job to protect the elves under your command, it was my job to protect you. I hope that bastard, Raenor, gets what he's due.

Now we move on, but you'll forever live within my heart. And I will go on because I just know we will be together one day. As you said, it will be a very long time from now, and probably not even on this earth. Whenever it happens, it will be worth the wait. So for now, keep me in your heart, in your thoughts, and in your dreams, and I shall do the same. Until then.

T.

I finished reading the letter and laid it on my desk. A smile spread across my lips, and I closed my eyes. I sighed, reached for a bottle of wine on the shelf behind my desk, and pulled the cork out. It was our wine, the same vintage we had shared on many occasions. I lifted the bottle into the air and toasted. "Until then, my lover, you'll be in my heart too." The warmth of the wine traveled through my body, and I imagined that he was with me in spirit. "It will come to pass someday. You'll be back in my arms, and we'll have nothing to hide anymore."

But that day was not now, and I had a lot to hide. I took another swig, and picked up the letter. Then I put it in the hearth and watched it burn. I couldn't let it get into the wrong hands. Besides, Túron was more than a piece of paper. He was attached to my heart and my memories would never forget.

What was supposed to be a three month campaign at the Northern Border, turned into nine grueling months of blood and battle. We were constantly attacked by orc raids, and it left us little time to sit around and think of home. The enemy's tactics were to consistently attack along the borders, testing for weaknesses, and giving no rest to the Lothlórien armies. They were trying to wear us down, and give us no time to trade exhausted troops for fresh ones. It might have worked if we hadn't figured out a pattern to their attacks. We managed to get just far enough ahead that we were ready for them where the Northern Border met the Eastern Border. I'm proud to say that it was my men who ambushed the orcs that turned the tides in this battle. We used the technique Romon taught me about listening to the sounds of the forest to determine direction. It was a surprise attack, and when the orcs scattered, some ran back towards their nest. Orophin's troops followed and were joined by one of the largest regiments of the Eastern Guard. Together, they destroyed one of the orcs main holds. Scouts were sent out to see where the survivors ran to. Dol Guldur was their main lair; we already knew that, but we hadn't known that an even worse foe housed themselves within the broken tower. Nazgûl … Sauron's Black Captains were organizing the orc armies there. Their numbers were far greater than we had ever imagined. They were preparing for a monumental attack upon Lothlórien and Mirkwood. If we hadn't found out when we did, we might not have been prepared. Lórien would double its men and its efforts. No evil had ever found its way into the city while my father was March Warden, and it would not happen now with my brother in command. But this could only mean one thing. War was not coming, it was already here.

While the enemy reorganized after the last attack, our tired and worn regiments were finally allowed a reprieve, and were sent back to the city. Fresh troops were waiting to be deployed, and even though I hadn't had a break since my marching orders nine months ago, I was prepared to lead the new troops back to the border.

I didn't look forward to going home. When I'd left, things were a mess. There was still the matter of the investigation, though it seemed a bit trifle after all this time. War was a bigger matter, I thought, but Haldir informed me that the case was still open, and I was wanted for questioning. Why was there a civilian (Túron) on the base, and in my office no less? And why hadn't I had any indication as to Romon's personal life? Who was Fandir, and how did I know him? Why was he, another civilian, on base? The list of questions went on and on. I was hardly home for a day when I was called upon to answer them. I answered them as best I could, but it didn't seem to satisfy the ones doing the investigating. From their attitudes, I could tell that Raenor had something to do with their involvement on the matter. The scoundrel was sure he had me cornered, but all he would get from me was my version of what happened that day. Túron was gone, and they couldn't call upon him again. Fandir had told them all they needed to know. Raenor was conveniently leaving him out of it in order to protect his own arse, especially since Fandir took all the blame for the tainted wine. But he had involved me when he admitted that he did it to gain my attention. Had he never mentioned me in the first place, perhaps all of this would have been blown over by now. The investigation committee wanted answers, and I was their target.

After my interrogation, they said they would call upon me again, after they spoke to a few other witnesses. Witnesses, I wondered. Who were they talking about? As far as I knew, there were no others that knew anything about it. Well, there was Beldor, but . . .

Surely he wouldn't give me away. When I questioned Haldir about the committee's warning, he said to ignore them. It was their way of trying to scare testimony out of someone. There were no other witnesses, and unless Raenor was ready to confess to his involvement, it wouldn't go any further than it already had.

"But to be on the safe side, I think you should go on a reprieve," Haldir told me.

"What are you talking about? I'm on one right now, or haven't you noticed that I'm not still at the borders," I argued.

I was at Haldir's home where we could speak openly about things. There were too many ears around the officer's quarters lately. "Raenor is not going to let up while you are here. I'm doing what I can, but I can only do so much, Rúmil. Now, I could not interfere with their inquiry, and from what I've heard, you did well."

"How do you know? You were not there," I said. Everything was kept confidential, and not even my brother would know what the committee was saying. I told him as much.

"I don't need to know what they said to know that they have nothing new. They will regroup, probably after speaking with Raenor. Then they will come to you with new questions. In the meantime, Raenor will use anything and anyone available to him to try and dig up more of your past. I'm going to do what I can to see that he gets nothing. As for you, I've got a legitimate task I need you to do. It will get you out of Lothlórien for a bit. If you're not here, these ridiculous proceedings cannot continue."

I was beginning to see no end to all of this. As long as Raenor was involved, he would not let things slip away and be forgotten. "What does it matter if I go away? When I come back, all of this will start up again, the questions, the accusations … it won't end."

"Raenor is doing this to wear you down. I can guarantee that if he had no involvement, it would never have been brought back up. Fandir confessed, even though he is protecting Raenor. It should not be a matter still. But Fandir is the key to all of this. He knows both sides, yours and Raenor's. He's the one who could end this."

"Then let me talk to him. He still cares for me. If I can convince him to come to reason and tell them about Raenor–"

"No," Haldir interrupted. "We cannot chance it. There are too many eyes and ears upon you. Should someone see you talking to Fandir . . ."

I knew my brother was right, but I felt like I was the only one who could convince Fandir to tell the truth about Raenor. We had grown up together. We had been best friends one time, had shared all of our secrets. We had loved each other once, and I knew he still carried me in his heart. Haldir thought he could speak with Fandir, but I knew my brother would get nothing out of him. For me, he would talk.

"Do this task for me, Rúmil. It's more important than you might think," Haldir pleaded with me.

I thought for a moment, but I knew I could not say no. If he really wanted to, he could overrule me. He was, after all, March Warden. "All right, what is it then?"

It must have been important, because Haldir took a deep breath and let it out slowly before looking me squarely in the eyes. He only did that when he had something difficult that he needed me or Orophin to do, something dangerous or possibly something neither of us would be fond of doing. He was readying himself for an argument, I could see.

"I need you to go to Mirkwood and–"

"What? Oh no, not me!" I argued as I backed away from him.

"And . . ." he continued, drawing out the word. "Speak to King Thranduil. Warn him about our findings with the growing orc army and Dol Guldur. Make him understand that he must be involved in this war if he wants to keep his land and protect his people."

"You want me to do this? I've never been out of Lothlórien, and now you want me to be a delegate for our Lord and Lady, and convince a foreign king, who refuses to come out of hiding, to help Lórien in this war." I stopped ranting and ran my hand through my loose hair to calm myself. It didn't work. "Are you MAD!?" I shouted.

"I've been to the elven king several times, and I got nowhere with him," Haldir countered.

"And just what makes you think he will listen to me? For Valar's sake, you are March Warden. I'm naught but a Captain. How will that make a difference whether he listens or not?" I would fight this decision until my last breath if I had to. I was NOT going to that filthy, spider infested cesspool of a place and live amongst those heathen Wood elves.

"There is no one else that I can count on to take on this task," Haldir admitted. "You have a talent for people of all races, even amongst the elves. People sense your kind soul, Rúmil. Orophin couldn't accomplish this. He is too hot headed and lust driven. He would find himself in Thranduil's cells either for mouthing off to the king or putting his mouth on their women. And . . ." he paused. His face softened as he pleaded his case and tried to convince me to go. "And you have your gift."

"My gift? What, talking to trees? How is that going to help to–"

"The Wood elves have their feet planted in the green earth, and their ears tuned in to the nature that surrounds them. They have the same gift, and they hold others like themselves in high respect. Prove yourself worthy to speak to Thranduil's court, and I'm positive that he will give you his attention. He must understand the dire situation that we are all in. The Nazgûl are nothing to ignore. If they are ruling from Dol Guldur, and organizing the orcs to march on our lands, then that is a force that will be almost impossible to defeat … unless we ALL come together to fight this new and growing terror."

"Haldir is right," Orophin said from the door. Neither of us heard him come in, but he had obviously been there for a little while, long enough to hear what Haldir had to say. "You must go, little brother. If anyone can get through to the elven king, it is you. I may tease you about your soft heart, but it's only because I'm jealous. People listen to you. Look at your troops. They love and respect you, not because you are one of the Lórien Three. It's because you are kind and fair. You rule with a stern but understanding hand. They know when you speak, it's to give encouragement, not chastisement. You don't only tell someone they are wrong, but you show them how to correct their mistakes. I can see no other accomplishing this task that Haldir has given, and I trust that Thranduil will listen, and that you will be consistent until he does."

I plopped down on the settee in Haldir's office, no longer with an argument. Here were both of my older brothers, convinced beyond a doubt that I was the one who had to deliver this message to the King of Mirkwood. Not only that, but to bring him around with my kind personality, and my ability to hear the trees. "Well, if that's not a load of shit," I mumbled, defeated once more by my brothers. "I guess I have no other choice."

"No," my brothers said simultaneously. We all laughed at that.

"Fine, when must I leave?" I asked, given up on seeing a way out of this.

"You'll have time to get your affairs in order. A letter will be sent to Mirkwood immediately. You don't want to enter the dark wood without an escort. The Wood elves will be expecting your arrival," Haldir informed. I was almost sure he had everything set up and ready to go before he proposed that I go to Mirkwood. The letter was probably already on its way by messenger hawk. Everything was already in motion. There was no backing out.

And so, there I sat in my home, on the eve of my next great adventure. It seemed as though I was doing a valiant thing by going to Mirkwood, but I knew better. I was being sent off somewhere far from Raenor and his never ending investigations, all in the name of honor. I knew what it really meant. It meant we were protecting ourselves and our good name so that in turn, we could keep peace and order to our realm. I had never felt so conflicted in all my life.

I wondered if I should have given more thought to flying off with Túron when I had the chance. I gave Haldir my decision before I even met with Túron one last time. If I had gone with him, what would have happened? Well, Raenor would have no one to make inquiries to. There would be no extort, and his case would have run cold. There would be talk and speculation about my disappearance, but even that would eventually be forgotten about. Haldir and Orophin would survive, and with the war coming, everyone would have more pressing issues to worry about. And I would not be slogging my way to Mirkwood to convince the heathen elf king to contribute to the war.

I'd never met a Wood elf. I'd only heard stories of them, and it was not appealing in the least. They were not as socially evolved as the elves of Lothlórien and Rivendell. They were like barbarians compared to the rest. They took chances that risked lives. They fought from the shadows instead of facing their enemy head on. Their weapons were ancient and they wore no armor. There was no organization, from what I could determine, no military control. They let their women fight in battle, for Eru's sake. What kind of primitive system was this? They were savages, as far as I could tell, and I was walking right into their lands, spiders, wargs and all. The mere thought gave me a shiver up the spine. Valar help me that I should come home still intact.

Where was Túron, I wondered. I'm sure he was in a much more exciting place, meeting new people, helping those who needed his talents. With every day that went by, I thought of him less, though he would never be completely out of my mind. I had managed to put him to the side of my thoughts, and only call upon my memory when I wanted to. He no longer overruled ever thought, sense and emotion like he did when he first left. Still, it was easy to be overcome by my remembrances, our walks in the garden, the sharing of a good wine, his caresses in the late hours of the night. Sometimes I could still smell him, or feel the warmth of his skin against mine. Those were the loneliest times, the saddest moments I must suffer. I hope he knows I still love him. I hope we will see each other again. A fool's hope, some might say, but better to have that than to have no hope at all.

The End (for now)

TBC in the next story … Far From Home

Author's Note: Thank you to everyone who read my story, and especially those who reviewed. If you enjoyed it and you've made it to the end, please leave a review. Communication between a reader and an author is highly regarded and a gift. All writers work very hard at their craft, and reviews are our only reward. For anyone interested, continue on to my next installment: Path of Honor Part II-Far From Home. Thanks ... Idril.