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Sons of the Steward	By : ElvenDemagogue Category: Lord of the Rings Movies > General Views: 3585 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own the Lord of the Rings book series and movie series, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

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The breeze was touched by coolness and with it came the scent of autumn. Drawing her gray cloak to her the Elf maiden pursed her lips and looked into the overcast sky above the vibrant trees. The sound of rushing waters let them know they were close to their mark. Inhaling, she caught the scent of fire and point on towards a shoreline just visible beyond the heavy plant life surrounding them. Looking up, she saw an expression of irritation painted upon the fair features of her companion. �Will you turn back?� she asked him mildly. �There is no return after this.�

Haldir shot her a glance, then shook his head and looked out ahead. �You would have me break oath, Minuial? I follow my lord�s will no matter the cost.�

Moving her eyes away from his firm stance, she nodded once in acceptance. She did not doubt his courage or his will, but this was not a thing she wanted him to waste his life on. In truth she knew she was probably walking into death and he with her. It had been long since any Elf had been intacntact with Gondor and the depth of their falling was not fully known. But Haldir had his own orders and she knew he would stand firm. She could tell it by the way he answered and by the look of his eyes.

�So be it,� she said, then took a step. When she noticed he was not following, she turned with a smile. �Coming?�

His eyes ran from her hair down her face and further before he nodded and came with her. Turning away, Minuial wrapped her arms around herself and ped ped beyond the trees that led to the Silverlode. His footsteps followed in her wake.

Ahead were the remnants of a campfire and standing above, kicking dirt over the last dwindling flames among the sticks was a tall human form with dark hair and clad in a dark blue cloak. He straightened and looked up, watching their approach with distant eyes. She recognized this face from before, having glimpsed him when the Nine had come to Lothl�rien for rest. Gone was the comfort of being in the company of Elves, replaced by distrust and wariness. Yet his voice remained the same, rich and noble as she remembered it. �Suilad, Edhil o L�rien.�
(Greetings, Elves of L�rien.)

Now moving beyond from behind, Haldir approached the mortal with a rigid command. �Let us speak in the tongue of your people, Aragorn. I would not have Men sully the words of Elves.�

�You are unkind, Haldir,� Aragorn remarked without malice, looking to the form coming into view. He bowed his head. �I greet you, Lady. I hope you are not as unkind.�

Not returning his gentle smile, she merely watched him a moment and then said, �My kindness lacks inspiration. Though I do thank you for the information you brought, if indeed it is true.�

�Could not Lady Galadriel discern the truth from me?� the mortal asked dryly as he picked up a bag he had probably been carrying since Gondor. He gazed at her intently and a look at Haldir�s expression her her inwardly rebuke herself for that little slip. She said nothing and Aragorn nodded in confirmation. �I did not know her ability had waned so far. Regardless, I was speaking the truth. You must believe that, else you would not be here.�

Haldir did not take kindly to the mortals assumptions and said sharply, �We believe as we believe. One thing is to be made clear, Aragorn. We go without firm intention. If at any point I feel we should turn back, I will not hesitate to do so and should we go as far as Minas Tirith there is no guarantee we will do more than visit.�

Aragorn took the verbal lashing without comment, his blue eyes betraying a loss that made Minuial put her hand on Haldir�s shoulder to quell him. The mortal shook his head and replied, �I expected no more than that. I wish��

�You wish to get into the good graces of the Elves,� Haldir continued, pulling away from her touch. �You wish to coax your way back into Rivendell to claim that which will forever be denied you, now. Arwen wed another.�

The astonished and pained expression on the Ranger�s face made her feel heavy inside. �Haldir, nuitho.� She would not make assumptions about the reason Aragorn had come when he had to speak of what she had longed to know ever since her sister had failed to return home. The �why� did not matter to her. Yet neither would she tolerate an expedition of bickering, either.
(ir, ir, stop.)

Throwing his pack into a boat there near the shore, Aragorn shook his head. �It may not matter to you, but you have it wrong, Haldir. I made peace with not having her long ago.�

�You are right,� Haldir said simply, giving the ranger a look of contempt. �It does not matter to me.�

The rest of the day did not progress much smoother. The two Elves got into the small craft that the mortal provided. Immediately Minuieaneeaned back and watched with a smile as Haldir took a hold of the oars and seated himself to row. He grunted and she grinned sunnily at him. Aragorn moved in behind him, taking a second set of oars to help with the rowing. The Marchwarden made a few critical remarks about the vessel, then they were off.

By the time dusk had long passed into full-fledged night the human Ranger was getting tired. He said nothing, but it began to show in his half-lidded gaze and his quiet aloofness. �We should pull re,�re,� Minuial suggested, feeling weary of the cramped little boat.

Haldir stopped rowing and peered into the starry sky, then shrugged. �As you wish. That should make you happy, hmm, mortal? I have been feeling your aid slacken.�

�Haldir,� Minuial said with a teasing smile as she nudged his leg with her boot. �Do not be so petty.�

Aragorn said nothing, merely aided the direction of the boat towards the eastern shore. They left the small vessel behind and took to the woods after gathering their belongings. Heading into the forest, they remained close enough to the river to hear the sounds of the gentle flow, but far enough away for what Minuial had in mind. Setting her bag down upon the ground in a clearing they chose, she said, �I am returning to the river. Do not intrude.�

�Far be it from me,� Haldir replied slyly, giving her a glittery-eyed look that she ignored.

She left their company and headed on towards the river, eager to be away from their company for a little while. When her feet came upon the shore she began peeling her clothes from her body until at last her toes touched the edge of the Silverlode. Cool water bit back at her flesh, but she did not care. Tossing her tunic down with her cloak at her feet, then untying her hunting trousers and letting them pool at her feet, Minuial brushed her hair behind her ear and stepped into the soft water. It made her shiver.

The water splashed pleasantly when she jumped in fully and immersed herself within the clear depths. It was invigorating, painful and pleasurable all at once, one of the final memories of enjoyment she could carry with her to Minas Tirith. She stood up and through cupped hands brought the coolness to her face, rubbing back into her hair as it trickled down her cheeks and throat.

It was maybe half of an hour before she realized her moment of idyllic peace had been intruded upon. She stood with her back facing the shobrinbringing the cleansing liquid up over her shoulders when she heard it. A twig stirred within the trees, something innocent enough that the untrained ear would have mistaken it for the way of nature, but she knew better. A smile snaked across her flushed lips as she turned to glance over her naked skin at the shadows. �Man cenich, Haldir?� she asked in a teasingly seductive tone.
(What do you see, Hr?)

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Sons of the Steward