The SONGS of SPRING

MAD MAN

Midnight is approaching fast, Galdohir couldn't keep his eyes away from the inn's door, following the swinging wooden plank with his head slightly turned when someone steps in. Smoke and laughter broke everywhere, Gondorians love the scent of galena clouding the two storey inn, yet to elves of the North it is very much suffocating. And when Men of the East favors flutes and bards singing at taverns, Gondorians wanted drums and fist fights. A night is considered dull at The Wileys Wine if there came less than three men falling to the floor. Galdohir counted four already, and a little longer he might step into the brawling pit to ease his anger.

Raen and Legolas must be on the way, he thought, and he kept his hopes high thinking of all simple reasons that could have caused the delay.

He shifted right on his chair, leaning his side to the wall at a corner, pulling his hood down he sipped his half filled mug. Galdohir doesn't like the taste of grog, not that because he is an elf, it was terrible, sour and bitter it tasted like spoiled apple cider with a rotten lemon. Yet he swallowed his dislike just to blend in, hiding the grim in his face under his dark green hood. At length he sat quietly than before, unmoving and sober, until someone came in and broke his silence.

It was a tall man on black garb, hair tied up to a bun. He knew his silhoutte very much, he can even tell the man from listening to his footsteps. Galdohir had grown very familiar of him, who would not, Beren rarely leaves Raen's side and everytime he stalks his daugter in the woods, Beren was always at the rear, watching her back all the time.

"Beren!?" he whispered to himself. He turned his back without thinking as cold slowly crept to his neck. He must find a way get out and warn Legolas. At last he gulped what's left of his grog and gathered his bow, took a sideway glance to where Beren was, and when he saw him walking towards the innkeeper, he stood and paced to the door. It was luck, indeed, Galdohir almost made it until two more guards surprised him at the doorway. He froze upon hearing Beren's voice calling his name from behind.

'I've been looking all over town," Beren's boots thudded louder and louder to his ears and the drummers seem beating their tools too hard. 'Where is she?'

'I do not know.' And he was apparently telling the truth. 'There is nothing to regret. Let her be. She will find her way home.'

'Then she must be on her way to me.' Beren's tone was cold and piercing. He had been wearing the same face since he left Minas Tirith, the same intensed eyes under his pressed thick brows. 'Tell me where you saw her last.'

The two Gondorian knights held him by the shoulder and pushed him out of the tavern just before everyone else caught the tension, and they took him to the side under the shade of tall lemon tree. Galdohir's jaw tightened but he did not resist, it was not fear, not at all. The elf found himself caught in between two men who wanted his daughter back, and he thought which bet would cause them less trouble, much safety and better reasoning. He could not decide just yet.

'You know I would not tell, even I know where she is,' he hissed. His hand holding the wooden pommel of his sword. 'Leave her be, I ask.'

'I will not.'

'How dare you say that?After what you've put her into? She almost died in there. She almost killed someone in there. You let that happen. You ---' he wouldn't finish his words for blaming Beren could be an endless task.

Beren stiffened, his words were dagger to his heart. 'I didn't mean things to turn that way. Trust me, I tried to keep her away from anyone who might hurt her again,  I've given up everything to keep her secrets, her past. I will not let anyone hurt the only woman I love."

No words came after his, the air fell heavy as silence filled the slim gap between them, searching answers in each others' eyes.

'Tell me, is there something worth losing yourself for?' Beren clutched on the elf's shoulder, staring at his eyes. Galdohir fell silent for a moment, thinking if it is best to choose sides sooner that he should. 'Please... She is all I ever wanted.'

'I do not know...' and the elf stepped back. 'I do not know where they went, or where they are heading now.'

'They?'

'Legolas, she is with him.'

Beren brushed his face with his palm, turning his back to hide his dismay. Then he clipped both hands to his waist, looking up the velvet skies like a mad man. 'You let the elf take her?'

'She had matters to attend, she said. A letter to deliver. They should be back before dusk if it didn't rain.'

'Rain? You think the elflord will delay return and take shelter from a barn, spending the night with her before a fire?' Beren was not a soothsayer but he was right this time. All this time Galdohir was waiting for nothing. 'He must have taken her South, lock her up for a while and send her back to his king-friend.'

'Legolas will not betray her.'

'He have for all I know,' he grudged. 'That elf put her into all her misery, she was broken, left to die in the river, lost her speech for a month, she almost jump off a cliff to end her life. I - I was the one who put her back together.' Beren's voice trembled as he points to his heart, then silence fell even more quiet than before.

'You can't hide it forever,' Galdohir said before turning his back. 'There are things that cannot be forgotten. The heart remembers things a mind may forget.'

'I will find her,' Beren retorted, he was first to  walk away. '...no matter what it takes.' And he disappeared to the shadows of the tall tavern with his two guards tailing him.

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A/N

Where do you think Legolas and Raen will go? Comment your guess below and find out if you got it right in the next chapter...