Chapter 19 - Galadriel's Pendant

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Helm's Deep. It wasn't that far away, not if one could march as quickly as elves could. When Lord Elrond's army had reached Lothlórien, they hadn't stopped at all - Haldir and his wardens were more or less just joining in. That had been the plan and it was how it worked out.

Daëra had never seen Haldir in his armour before, he had never thought it fit to put it on for his duty as a warden. The silver looked delicate, yet being made by elves it was sure to be just as strong as it was beautiful. She wanted to protect him so much it made her go and see him, even though she had promised herself to stay away in an attempt to make things easier for him. She had visited him in his flet - ignoring all the memories that were storming at her when she stepped into the well-known hut in the trees - and he had said they would work things out once he had returned. If he returned, Daëra had added in her thoughts. Not that she didn't trust Haldir's fighting skills, it was just... She loved him so much she couldn't bear the thought of even the possibility of him getting hurt. Having said that, of course she had hurt him herself. No, it wasn't logical at all, it was - Daëra didn't know what it was. Anyway, he said they would work things out. It left them with just one problem: there was literally no way this mess could be worked out. There was no solution. Both of them would have to suffer and if they were lucky, Haldir would finally get over it. Daëra, of course, would die. She didn't know what Haldir meant by saying "they would work it out", but she hadn't had the courage to ask. Their farewell had been brief and rather cold that night and afterwards, Daëra felt emptier than ever before. The next morning though, he had already been waiting outside her door when Daëra stepped out to watch the joining of the armies of Imladris and Lórien.

The sun had not yet risen, its first rays were merely colouring the sky in the east a watery shade of pink. When Daëra left her flet the cool night air seemed to be seeping into her every pore, making sure she stayed awake. Daëra climbed from the tree and by the time she was halfway down she noticed that someone was waiting below. For a split-second she thought it might be Haldir, but then she realised it was... it was Haldir indeed. Daëra didn't know how long he had been standing there, perhaps all night, she couldn't tell. When Daëra had finally reached the bottom of the rope-ladder after what felt like ages she didn't dare look into Haldir's eyes and she had no idea as to what to say - yet fortunately, he didn't leave her any time to think. Within a matter of seconds Daëra found herself pressed against the trunk of the huge tree her flet was built into. Haldir's lips on hers were cold as ice which supported the suspicion of him having stood without moving for quite a while. Daëra knew that this must be wrong, but she couldn't find the strength within her to remember why. Her arms wrapped themselves around his neck and although his skin had been cool before, all of a sudden it had heated up and the warmth of his body made her knees go weak. Since he was wearing his armour, Daëra couldn't pull him half as close as she would have liked.

Haldir was kissing her with a passion that it almost seemed to Daëra he was kissing her good-bye forever, as if his fate at Helm's Deep was already decided. A dreadful fear took hold of her and she broke the kiss. Sucking in the cool morning air Daëra studied Haldir who was just as much out of breath. "You are..." Daëra started but had to breathe a few more times before she finally had enough air to get the words out. "You are not going to die, are you?" - He looked at her slightly puzzled. "I do not know whether we will win this war..." - Daëra shook her head and waved aside his words. "What I mean is: you are not planning on dying. You have not given up your life - have you?" - Haldir looked into her eyes for a very long time and his sad, sad stare was proof that he had at least contemplated it - yet then after a long while he slowly shook his head and averted his eyes. It was a good thing he was an elf through and through and would never have lied. This almost made her smile and Daëra briefly closed her eyes when relief flooded her. Then suddenly she reopened them and grabbed his arm. "You must not die. If you die then... it is all in vain..." Daëra didn't know what else to say. Haldir just had to live. Even though she would be human, she had to know he was out there, somewhere... She had to know he was alive and kicking. Or fighting, rather. Fighting to live, even if it was a life without her. He was strong, he could do it. With his fingertips, Haldir tenderly traced the line of her jaw. He put his other hand at her neck and pulled her close for one last kiss.

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