The standard bearer (Elrond x oc)

20. At the North Gate

Outside the wind was getting up as Gildinwen readied herself for the march
to the gates of Barad-dûr. The rain had been heavy all day, dark clouds
scouring the sky, and icy winds driving in from the north. Now it looked to
be getting even worse. She shivered as she tucked thick trousers into
sturdy boots and fastened them tightly. It was going to be a miserable
night. On the table swordbelt and blade lay waiting, a warm cloak flung
over the top. She stood to fasten on her breastplate, the fine Elven
craftsmanship thankfully light. She struggled to tug the strap tight over
the right shoulder, her left arm not quite supple enough to reach.

A rush of wind and rain announced a visitor, and she looked up to see
Elrond enter. He was dressed for battle, armour and cloak, girded for the
fray with blade and bow. In one hand he held a small wooden box.

"Here," he said, placing the box on the table, "let me."

She turned and he quickly fastened the remaining strap. He lifted her thick
braid to lay a kiss lightly behind her ear. "My brave woman." His voice
rippled teasingly, but she could hear the undertow of concern.

"My warrior Elf," she riposted with a laugh.

"Come," he said, guiding her towards the bed and seating her on it. He
pulled the chair forward to sit in front of her. His face was alight with a
secret mischief.

"I have a gift for you."

She looked up, a look of bashful delight spreading across her face.

He retrieved the box from the table and placed it in her hands.

She sat for a moment, cradling it with joy and wonder, then slowly lifted
the lid, the elf's eyes watching expectantly.

"Oh, Elrond." She whispered, with tears in her eyes, "It is lovely." She
placed the lid on the floor and lifted the box to look more closely. The
dark green, waxy leaves of a small plant nestled against damp soil, a
single bud just tipped with white, lifted its head from the centre. "Is it
truly an Elrhîw?"

"Yes indeed, although this one came not from Imladris, which is too far,
but from the White Mountains."

She looked up with astonishment, "You had this brought all the way from
Gondor, just for me?"

He smiled fondly, "You said you wanted to see something green and growing."

"Oh, my love." She wiped her cheek, "Thank you."

"Sit it in the light, and it will bloom in a day or two."

She stood and cleared a space on the table for the plant, setting it where
it would catch the morning sun.

She turned to him, as he stood.

"Thank you. I do not think I have ever seen anything more beautiful. "

"I have." He smiled at her, lifting a finger to stroke her face.

Filled with happiness, she reached up to place her arms about his neck, and
he held her as close as his war dress allowed. One kiss was all he would
allow himself, before duty called. One long kiss.

"Now, my love." He said, pulling back and disentangling himself. "I must to
my king."

She nodded, her eyes shining. "I will along in a little time."

Of all the challenges she had faced because of her love of Elrond, this was
always the most difficult. For her as for him. To go to war and face death
with the one dearest to you only a few feet away, and to put that love
aside and let duty take precedence. Not to look at them, not to think about
what could happen at any moment, but to keep eyes and mind on the appointed
task. Only afterwards could the fear be acknowledged, the spectre
confronted and the relief at safe passage be welcomed. So far, always
relief. She pushed away any other thoughts. Nothing could be gained by
them.