Adult-FanFiction.org : Lord of the Rings

Path of Honor	By : IdrilsSecret Category: +Third Age > Slash - Male/Male Views: 1995 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Lord of the Rings, nor the characters from it. I make no money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 5
- 6
- 7
Chapter Six

I knew this working arrangement was a bad idea, but I couldn’t bring myself to change it. Túron and I remained on a professional level while on base, though we couldn’t help our longing stares every once in a while. And every time it happened, I felt like everyone in the vicinity watched us or could read our minds. I’m sure I behaved rather suspiciously, but I hoped it came off as nervousness with my new position. However, that would only take me so far. Most people knew that I was very confident, especially since Haldir and Orophin were my older brothers. They knew I would not fail. It was not in my bloodline.
This all seemed so much easier when I thought Túron was going to work as a servant somewhere else in the city. I had so many hopes and dreams for us. To be able to hold my position in the army and carry on with as normal of a relationship as I could afford seemed like a dream come true. I had prepared myself for the fact that it would never happen for me, and then I met Túron who was just as willing to do what it took to make this work. I loved him and I really wanted this, but I never imagined that he would become my subordinate. Our safety net had been demolished. Before all of this, we could traverse around the city and appear as friends. Then disappear into the shadows of the night and become lovers. Now, he was under my employment and my command, a situation in which friendships were nonexistent. I feared that heads would turn in suspicion. Now, my fears were wreaking havoc on what should have been an exciting time for our newly developing relationship.
I was busy writing reports midday, my mind a jumbled mess of thoughts. Túron sat at his own small desk against the opposite wall of my office, head buried in his work. I peeked over my ledger to watch him. His face was expressionless as he scribbled away at some task I’d assigned him. The tension between us had been thick, but then I guess that was my fault.
Things had been stressful, even outside of the base, as I made sure we kept a safe distance. Túron, however, always tried, and he kept hope in his heart, but I could see it fading. It wouldn’t be long and he would tire of this. I would be alone again. I didn’t want that … not this time.
“Hey,” he said from his desk. I looked up at him. “Why don’t we go to dinner tonight?”
“Oh, well … I … I don’t know,” I stammered.
“Rúmil, it’s been two weeks, and we haven’t done a damn thing together except what we are doing right now,” he complained.
Had it really been two weeks? “I know, and I’m sorry. You’ve been very patient. It’s just that there’s been a ton of stuff to do, and not much time to do it in,” I explained with my usual excuse.
“So you are too busy for me now? Is that it?”
Ai, just as I feared. It was starting … the beginning of the end. “You know our situation here. Things have become very delicate. The slightest mistake and–”
“And everyone will know about us. Yes … yes, you remind me of that every day.” He got up from his desk. I watched him casually walk over to the door and slide the lock into place. He was making me very nervous.
“What are you doing?”
“Something I should have done already.” He padded across the room, shoulders swaying seductively.
“Túron, no,” I said firmly.
“Rúmil, we cannot keep going on this way. You’ve ignored me for two weeks now. I have needs and I know you do too.”
“I do have needs,” I said. “And right now I need for you to get your head together. If you think I’m going to let you seduce me here, within my office with people only feet away, then you’ve truly lost your mind.”
“Alright, I’ll stop if you agree to dinner.”
I considered him through the slits of my eyes. “Fine,” I agreed finally, and returned to my work.
“You are no fun, you know that?” he said, a hint of bitterness in his tone.
I watched him work from the corner of my eye. He always tried his best and did his job well enough. He always did what I asked of him, and seemed to flourish as a messenger. He enjoyed getting out and meeting others. I thought that he didn’t mind sitting in this office as long as I was here. I wouldn’t deny that it was enjoyable being able to spend time with him every day. It just wasn’t the way I actually wanted to spend it.
Two weeks? Had I really held him off for that long? Túron must have feelings for me to wait that long without complaint. Any other elf would have ended this tortured affair already. But he was still here, making the best of an awkward situation. I supposed I owed him my gratitude, and as I watched his lips move as he read one of the papers before him, I felt my desire demand to pay him in full.
The door was still locked. It would be a shame not to take advantage of that. Let’s see, what time of day was it? Oh yes, my troops were all down at the practice fields working with my officers. They wouldn’t be done for at least half an hour, and then they’d go back to the barracks. That meant no one would come around delivering reports for a bit.
Túron stood and went to the bookshelf. I watched him trace his finger over the bindings, looking for a specific reference manual. He was still learning the code for certain military orders. Each category had its own set of codes, anything from weapons to toiletry items.
I silently got up and went to him, standing behind him as I looked over his shoulder. “Need help with something?” I asked as charmingly as possible.
His head turned to the side and he glanced back at me. I could see the corner of his mouth twitch into what could be considered a waggish smile. “A few of your men request sticklewort, but I don’t know whether to categorize it under healing herbs or food.”
“Well, I wouldn’t think it would be very good to drink for enjoyment, so I would say … look under … herbs.” As I spoke, I stretched my arm out and reached for the herb reference manual, pushing my body against his back in the process. His hands went to the shelf in front of him, and I stopped in mid reach. “Oh, I do apologize if I have crowded you,” I whispered into his neck. “You smell wonderful.”
“I would think you’d like it. It’s yours, the sandalwood oil.”
I took his wrists and pinned him to the shelf. “Taking my stuff without even asking? I believe that is a punishable crime.”
“How would you have me … serve my time, Captain?” he asked with a sultry airy voice.
“Maybe I’ll just have you instead.”
“Didn’t we just have this conversation? And you told me I’d lost my head.” He slipped out of my grasp and turned in the tight space between me and the bookshelf so that we were facing one another, lips only a hair’s width apart. His natural aura, green and earthly, mixed with the sandalwood oil from my bath and filled my senses. It was a rousing blend that had me on the verge of throwing caution to the wind.
“We shouldn’t do this,” I said unconvincingly.
“No, we shouldn’t,” he said, smiling against my lips before we kissed.
Ai, those lips … nothing felt so good nor tasted so succulent. I could spend forever with him like this. Unfortunately, we only had minutes, and I had the most straining cockstand I’d ever experienced. “I want you … now,” I growled as I loosened my ties, and lifted the long skirt of his robe. Túron turned his back to me and adjusted his stance. I wasted no time getting to business. The bookshelf rattled from our rapacious actions, as we found gratification and satisfied our carnality. In other words, I screwed him hard and fast against the bookcase, almost knocking it over. We kept our moans at a minimum volume, but there was nothing to be done about the books falling to the floor. At that point, I didn’t care. A pack of Wargs could have assailed us, and I wouldn’t have skipped a beat. Besides, I knew I’d come up with a convincing reason for the clamor, if anyone decided to make known their concerns.
We finished simultaneously, sweaty and panting as we rested against the bookshelf. I realized that I’d never look at it the same way again, not without thinking of Túron, and smiled to myself. “I don’t know what it is about you, but you bring out the beast in me,” I said, kissing a trail along the sinuosity of his neck and shoulder.
“And I believe I could get used to the beast.” He said it jestingly, but I couldn’t help think that there was more to that statement than what lay on the outside of his words. I turned to the side and Túron spun towards me. He pushed a sweaty strand of loose hair out of my face and looked into my eyes. I lost myself there, and I didn’t care if I ever found my way back. “I meant what I said, Rúmil. I want to make this work, but it’s going to take both of us making an effort. You can’t just shut me out because you think everyone is watching and waiting. I’m not saying that we won’t run into a few obstacles along the way. I know for a fact that we will. I just hope you know everything that’s happened between us has been unexpected. Unforeseen, but glorious, and I … I’ve found that I … love you.”
My heart was skipping beats, though it didn’t show on my exterior expressions. Instead, I kissed him gently and passionately. “Let’s forget about dinner, and go straight to your place.”
“You’ll need your energy if you’re coming home with me. Dinner first,” he demanded.
* * * * *
We finished out the day in our usual manner, and when everything was done, we walked to the dining hall. It smelled like venison was the main course tonight. I was very hungry, not having eaten much since the morning in anticipation for the evening to come. Our unexpected tryst took the edge off of my worry, though it was never completely gone. I had never done anything so daring before … and I liked it.
As we approached the food table, the spread – a mixture of venison prepared in different ways – made my stomach rumble quite audibly. As hungry as I was, though, I could hardly wait to finish and finally be alone with my lover. Túron, I noticed, stopped several times to say hello to fellow servants he’d once worked with. He wasn’t awkward at all as he talked to them, and introduced me as his new employer. I would have blushed if I were to come upon friends of mine so soon after secret union, but Túron was relaxed and unconcerned that one or both of us might still show signs of our exercise. Most of his friends were shocked to hear he’d been put in an assistant’s position rather than service, and he said something that peaked my curiosity.
“It’s the oddest thing,” he told one of his acquaintances. “But I did not request that kind of assignment. I wanted to stay in service.”
I wondered to myself, why he had been taken from his first duties and put onto mine. It was rare that someone did not get the line of work that they requested. Then again, it was a last minute change, and no one had known that we were friends or he might not have been assigned as my subordinate.
We went about enjoying a delicious meal and good company without any more distractions. There was something about being with Túron that, even in public like this, calmed my frazzled nerves. He was not worried in the least. His confidence shined. It always had since the first time we met.
Our plates were empty, our bellies full, and now we were enjoying a glass of wine. Once again, Túron had worked his magic on me, and I relaxed enough to gaze at him across the table unguardedly. He caught my look, and hid his smile with his glass. He sipped long, head tilted up, and eyes turned towards the leafy boughs that made the ceiling. They turned slowly down and rested on me, his glass lowering to the table. “The last time you looked at me like that, we did not get out of bed for a whole day. Be careful, Rúmil. Neither one of us can afford not to show for our jobs, and definitely not both of us at the same time.”
“Of course not, but no one will talk if you take a day off.”
“Do you mean to use me to exhaustion?” he asked mischievously.
“The thought has crossed my mind. And as sumptuous as things were earlier, I still have not had my fill. I figure it is the least I can do to make my amends.”
“Hmm, a difficult offer to refuse, but I think that I should like to stay for a while yet, as I’m not quite ready to leave. More wine?” he asked, but he was already waving a server over to our table before I could answer.
This was an odd turn of events. Here I was, ready to give up my fears to make his dreams come true, and he was not ‘ready’. I bit my lip and wondered why. Túron smiled kindly at the wine servant, who filled both of our cups. As she picked up my glass, the corner of my napkin caught in her fingers and it fell to the floor. She apologized and knelt down to retrieve it, almost spilling the wine. I warned her, she fumbled slightly, but caught herself, and set down glass and napkin without incident. When she left, I looked at Túron for his reaction.
“She must be new,” he said, watching her go hurriedly back to the kitchen.
“Or poorly trained. She must be embarrassed, poor dear.”
Túron gave a sly look from across the table. “Had it been me, I would have been more careful.”
“Did you not have a difficult time of it when you first started your servant career?” I teased, and reached for my napkin. Túron was still making comments about his extraordinary talents in service, when something slipped out of my napkin. It fell into my lap and I picked it up; a piece of paper with something scribbled on it. I unfolded it and instantly felt my insides clench with horror. Túron must have recognized the look on my face that matched my internal turmoil.
“What is it?” he asked, low toned and grave.
My hand instinctively crumpled the paper into my fist, and I began searching the dining hall for the servant girl. “Which way did she go?” I said with utmost urgency.
“Who?” Túron asked.
“The girl, where did she disappear to?” I couldn’t find her anywhere in the hall.
“Rúmil, what is going on?” he asked again.
I stood from the table and looked around the hall, but she was nowhere to be found.
“Rúmil, talk to me,” Túron demanded, now standing at my side and following my line of sight. I slipped the piece of paper into his hand. He looked down, unfolded it, and read in a whisper. “’You’re being watched.’ Where did this come from?”
“It was in my napkin, the one the girl dropped,” I informed.
As though he’d done it a thousand times, Túron adjusted his collar and started off. “Stay here. I’m going to find her and get some answers.”
My eyes swept the hall again, just in time to see a flash of golden hair disappear around the corner from the entrance. There was no mistaking that mane. It was Beldor. I hurried towards the doorway, ignoring Túron’s demand that I stay. Outside, the path led right or left. Looking left, just beyond the last lantern before the path plunged into darkness, I witnessed the blue-green robe that I’d often had the pleasure of stripping from Beldor. He was fleeing, but not that fast. He would allow me to catch him up, so I calmly walked down the pathway, remembering what the note said. I found him soon enough, walking casually towards me. He lifted his hand and touched his forefinger to his temple. It was a signal, and it meant we were not safe to speak openly. As we passed each other, we nodded cordially, our eyes meeting for only a second. Then, I felt him push something into my hand. I took it and palmed it, securely hidden from view. No one could have seen the exchange. We’d done this before, usually to request a ‘meeting’. I thought it would be the same kind of request, though not for a liaison.
I kept walking, finding myself at a necessary, and took advantage of the solitude, even though I had not the need to empty my bladder. I looked at this second note from Beldor. ‘Meet me at the guest quarters where the minstrels are housed, second room on the left. Come now.’
“What are you up to, Beldor?” I whispered to myself and left the privy.
The guest quarters he spoke of were behind the performance hall, the one Túron and I had gone to the night of the dance. There was another concert tomorrow night, and it was not uncommon for adherents to pay a visit to the musicians before their performance to wish them luck. It’s not something I had ever done before, but it would not look out of the ordinary, especially since I had just attended a concert performed by the same harpist.
As I passed the dining hall, I glanced quickly through the entryway, seeing our empty table. Túron was either preoccupied with the servant girl, or he was looking for me. I paused briefly, wondering if I should tell him where I was going, but thought better of it. If we were being watched, I didn’t want to bring any more attention upon us than had already been brought. I would speak to Beldor first. I needed to know more about this warning.
The next tree was one of the many huge mallorns that grew in the Golden Wood. This one had a staircase spiraling along its trunk which led down to the next level where the performance hall was located. There was not much traffic here since there wasn’t any entertainment this evening. Still, elves strolled here and there, comfortable in conversation, taking in the night air and the solitude. I nodded in greeting to the elves that I passed, wondering about each one. Were any of them watching me? They didn’t seem suspicious, but one could never tell.
Finally, at the guest quarters pathway, I walked along slowly, finding the area deserted. The muffled sound of a lute came from one door, the airy whistle of a flute from another. The second door on the left revealed the plucking of a harp, and I paused before knocking. As far as I knew, Beldor did not play, but whoever was practicing was definitely a professional from the sound of it. Had I misread the note? I didn’t think I had, but I wasn’t going to chance looking at it a second time. Instead, I rapped my knuckles upon the white wood grain door. The harp went silent and I waited to see who would answer. To my surprise, it was the harpist himself. He was very tall and thin. Everything about him seemed long, his fingers, arms, legs, and even his face. He had the most uniquely red hair I’d ever seen in the elven world. Not red like the true color of red hair, but lightly toned reminding me of a pale strawberry wine I had once as a child. I found myself wishing I had a glass of it now, remembering the giddy feeling it gave me to drink it. I felt odd knocking on his door, not even knowing his name.
“Uh … Good evening, uh . . .”
“Gangeldir,” he answered with his own introduction. “And a good evening to you too, Captain . . .?”
“Rúmil,” I said, confirming my identity. He smiled warmly and stepped aside.
“Come in, come in. Always a pleasure to see someone with your standing in the community interested in the arts.” He spoke a little louder than I thought was necessary. Then again, I’d heard that sometimes a musician’s ability to hear was somewhat diminished due to the vociferous nature of the job. Either that or he was putting on a show for anyone who might be spying about outside. Whatever the reason, he was very kind and polite in greeting, and closed the door behind us.
I wasn’t sure what to say next, but I didn’t have to say anything. Once safe inside, Beldor appeared from a door towards the back of the room. “Hello Captain, fancy meeting you here,” he chortled.
Gangeldir seemed to float above the floor as he walked. His white robes were so long I couldn’t see his feet. He joined Beldor by his side. At least a head taller than Beldor, Gangeldir leaned down, kissed the pointed tip of Beldor’s ear and whispered loud enough so I could hear. “Will the Captain be joining us tonight?” As he asked, his eyes scanned me from head to toe, making me feel like I was naked before him. It was a bit unsettling or arousing; I wasn’t sure at the moment, but then, my nerves were rattled.
Beldor turned to Gangeldir, kissed him passionately, and then whispered onto his swollen lips. “Not this time, lover. Remember that favor I asked of you?”
Gangeldir cupped his hand to Beldor’s crotch and smiled. “I’ll just leave you to your business, but don’t keep me waiting too long.” He glanced at me again with his wandering eyes. “If you change your mind, Captain . . .”
“I’m afraid he doesn’t participate in our kind of game,” Beldor answered to cover for me. Last thing I needed was for some outsider to know my secret.
“Shame that,” Gangeldir said with sincere disappointment. Then he exited into the same room where Beldor came from. I assumed it was a bedroom. The scent of rose oil wafted past my nose. It was a familiar scent … Beldor’s favorite.
“So, what is all of this about?” I asked, wanting to get right to the heart of things.
“Not so fast, love. Come, join me. Wine? Perhaps something stronger? Gangeldir has quite the collection. Gifts from adoring fans.” Beldor picked up a fancy bottle, short, wide and square with a crystal stopper. The amber liquid inside looked interesting and potent. “Brandy from Rohan. I’m told it’s the King’s favorite.” He poured a small amount into a glass and rolled it around, watching how it stuck to the sides. “This stuff makes Dorwinion taste like fruit juice, though it doesn’t have the same sexually driven after affects as Mirkwood’s finest wine.”
“I’ve not come to discuss alcohol, Beldor. Now tell me what is happening. What did you mean by that note? Who is watching?” I couldn’t afford to be here for very long. I knew Túron would be looking for me and I needed to get back.
Beldor cupped the side of my face, and looked into my eyes. “What has happened to you, Rúmil? You used to like to play. But then, I guess it’s due to your promotion. Captain in the Northern Border Guard of Lothlórien. Big responsibility, no doubt. Also makes you a target for deception.”
“What have you heard about it?” I demanded.
“Well, I know of a certain March Warden of the Eastern Guard who would like nothing better than to ruin the career of your brother, Haldir. I also know that, after numerous attempts to soil his name and reputation over the years, this Warden of the East has failed time and time again. Seems your brother is meticulous when it comes to his personal life, and nothing but professional pertaining to his military standing. The East Warden had all but given up … that is until he heard a rumor that there were some amongst the troops who did not stick to the high rules of the army. Two of his own men were recently discovered and asked to resign from their positions. Thrown back into the populous … turned civilian. They were hoping it could all be hidden without incident. But the walls have ears, and rumor spread quickly in certain hierarchy circles.”
“You are not even in the military. How could you possibly know any of this to be true?” I asked, challenging him with his information.
Beldor took a small sip of his brandy, smiled and put a hand on my knee. “My dear, you are not the only soldier who has come to me looking to curb his cravings. One of the men Raenor released from the army was an acquaintance of mine. Anyways, after that discovery, Raenor went on a massive raid looking for others, and found only one more. But I think it gave him the idea to pursue other avenues outside of his own regiment. He’s looking to the North, and he’s going right to the top, starting with you and your brothers.”
I could feel bile rise in my gut. This was very bad news for someone like me. It wasn’t the first time I’d heard about these so called raids. In the past, I laid low for a while, stayed away from anything or anyone that might expose my secret until things died down. This time was different now that I was involved with someone within my office. But this wasn’t something I could walk away from. I loved Túron, and I didn’t want to lose him.
Feeling trapped, panic began to rise through my stomach and settled in my chest. “I shouldn’t be here.”
“Relax. I was very careful before coming here. No one saw me enter Gangeldir’s quarters, and if anyone trailed you, they will think you are looking to reserve the best seats in the house for the concert tomorrow evening. I suggest that you be there, just to make sure this visit seems legitimate. And don’t take your new plaything with you. My source tells me that they’ve already taken note of all the time you two have spent together. Fortunately, they have not trailed you to either of your homes. They’ve just started investigating. My advice to you is to get rid of him quickly and return to business as usual until this whole witch hunt blows over.”
I heard what Beldor had to say, and I knew he was right, but it wasn’t as simple as all that. Hearts were involved this time. I couldn’t just send Túron away without serious consequences.
“What’s this?” Beldor said after my long silence. My worry must have shown on my face. “This elf of yours … he’s not just another liaison. You really care for him, don’t you? Well, this is a problem, isn’t it? Why on earth would you put yourself in such jeopardy?”
“When we met, he was just a servant at the main hall. It was safe and easy to cover our tracks. If I had any idea that he would be assigned as my assistant–”
“I smell a rat,” Beldor interrupted. “I don’t think it was just a coincidence that your man was put in that position.”
“If that’s true, then Raenor must suspect much more than I thought.”
Beldor shook his head. Any sign of jesting has disappeared with this new dilemma. “You have to get rid of him. You must go to the office in charge of servant assignments and request a change.”
“But that will tarnish Túron’s outstanding record,” I argued, hoping to come up with a better solution.
“Or you can let him stay and everyone gets hurt,” Beldor said sarcastically. “They are already suspicious, Rúmil. You have to make a substantial move in order to make Raenor think he’s been chasing the wrong leads. I don’t think he’s working alone in all of this. He couldn’t have found out as quickly as he did on his own, or even with his own men. Someone has led him in the right direction.”
“You may be right,” I said, worried about this anonymous person. There was no telling who it might be, but it was definitely someone with a vendetta. My first thought was that it must be someone who was upset over learning that I was promoted to Captain, one of those who accused Haldir of being unfair, and choosing me not for my skill, but because I am his brother. There were a few elves that felt this way. I could very easily see them being influenced by Raenor to spy within their own regiment. The thought was very unsettling. What all might I have given away, letting my guard down recently? I thought about that time in the garden with Túron, when we first met. Was someone watching then? I found it odd that Raenor and his brother, Gúdir, were there … and with the elleth I had taken to the dance just the day before, no less. Ai, what a mess this was. “I have to go.”
Beldor nodded and stood. “Good luck, Rúmil. If I should hear anything else, I will send word.”
I stood and took his hands in mine. “Thank you, Beldor.”
He gave me a gentle kiss on the cheek and went to the bedroom door, disappearing inside. Then, Gangeldir appeared and walked me to the front door. He opened it and ushered me out, shook my hand and gave me two tokens, all in plain view for anyone who might be watching from the shadows. “It will be an honor to have you attend the performance, Captain. Arrangements have been made. Your seats have been assigned. If there is a problem, show them these,” he gestured to the round wooden chips in my hand.
“Thank you, and I look forward to the concert,” I responded cordially with proper bow, and I left the guest quarters. I decided not to go home just yet, so I went back to my office. I’d kept an eye out as I went, but saw no sign of Túron. He was a smart elf. He would know to keep his distance, at least until he had to show at my office tomorrow. I knew Beldor was right. I had to request a change, which was the reason I went to my office now. I would write up a letter and have it sent first thing. I wanted badly to speak with Túron first, and explain my actions, but I was afraid of being seen or overheard. No, this had to be done in a way that looked legitimate and wouldn’t raise suspicions. I could only hope that Túron would understand, and that I was doing this for him … for us. I should have known better than to try and have something normal and loving. My standing as a soldier wouldn’t allow it. For the first time in my life, I started to wonder if it was all worth it. Shouldn’t love and the chance at spending the rest of eternity with someone have more precedence over a life that was practically chosen for me? Then again, this wasn’t just about me anymore. I had let Túron into my heart, and that caused my carelessness. I couldn’t let him get messed up in this. Even if it meant my own discovery, I had to do what I could to make sure Túron was kept out of it. I had my brothers to worry about too, and that was just as important, if not more important than my personal life and happiness. I would do anything to keep them all safe, and that included ending my relationship with Túron. But it hurt tremendously, and it would leave such a horrible wound on my soul. No, I thought, let Túron go, first from my office, and then … after I had explained my reasoning … I’d release him from my heart. After all, it was my own fault. I shouldn’t have pursued him. I shouldn’t have given him hope that we could have anything normal. Most of all, I shouldn’t have let myself believe it. As I’d said in the beginning, my love life was doomed as long as I remained faithful to Lothlórien’s army.
* * * * *
I dreaded the next morning, and slogged back to my office first thing. The previous night, I made up my letter of request for a new assistant, walked it over to the proper office and handed it to the elf on duty. It was marked urgent, and would be one of the first things they would look at. I decided not to go home, just in case Túron was there looking for me. Instead, I went to Orophin’s home. Luckily he was alone, so I didn’t disturb his evening. I showed him the wooden tokens from Gangeldir and invited him to the concert, which he accepted. I made up some excuse as to why I asked to stay at his flet, but he didn’t bat an eye. Orophin was happy to have me over, and we spent part of the night reliving old memories from our youth. One thing came up that had always kept me confused, the reason our father sailed so early on. I remember him sitting me and my brothers down and explaining it all. It was very confusing to an elfling as young as I was. The whole thing about the calling of the sea, and dreams of Valinor’s shores was beyond my comprehension. It would be thousands of years before any such notions became a concern for me. But I did notice that my father wasn’t as prepared as some of the other elves I’d known who sailed. He wasn’t deafened by the gull’s song or blinded by visions of ships sailing towards a golden sunset. Perhaps it was just my lack of understanding, but I thought that it wasn’t his time yet, and that he was being forced to go. Then again, he spoke often of seeing my mother, and when he did, he stared dreamily towards the west, to the Grey Havens. So perhaps he was ready to sail, but I still didn’t understand why he went when he did. Orophin wasn’t sure either, and Haldir never talked about it.
I was not surprised to find a messenger standing outside of my office, a folded note in his hand. He bowed and gave it to me, then went on his way. I looked at the note before opening it. The paper was from the association responsible for assigning servants. I opened it and read. My request had already been accepted and Túron was being notified of his release, probably at this very moment. I hated myself.
The day got underway with no sign of Túron. I hoped that he might come, and then I could explain my rash decision to send him away. He saw the mysterious warning, though. Surely he would know why I did what I did. But his words played repeatedly in my head, ‘You can’t shut me out. We both must make an effort’. This was worse than shutting him out. I had done the one thing I said I would never do, and cast him away just like his Rivendell lover.
“What’s this?” Haldir said as he burst into my office. “I heard that you requested a new assistant, and that Túron was reassigned.”
“Word spreads quickly,” I said to cover my true feelings. “It just wasn’t working out,”
“It seemed like it was working out just fine. Túron was doing and excellent job. Why did you send him away?”
“I have expectations. Túron wasn’t reaching them. End of story,” I said tersely.
“Fine then,” said Haldir, throwing his hands up in surrender. “By the way, I’m inspecting your men today, starting with the recruits. Have them lined up and ready on the field in an hour.”
“They’ll be there.” I sounded harsh as I spoke to him. No one else could have gotten away with that.
* * * * *
Later, as I made my way to the training grounds, I wondered about Túron. Where might he be, and what would he think of me now. Did he understand that what I did was to protect him and me, not to mention my brothers? Did he care? It all happened within a matter of hours. Just yesterday we were happy, and unconcerned. Everything was going along so well. But that was yesterday.
I was about there, the training grounds, when someone came up from behind, grabbing my arm roughly. I started to turn, but was pulled back to face front ways. Looking to my side, I found Túron there, looking straight ahead with a scowl.
“Túron, let me explain,” I started, but he stopped me.
“There’s no time. Don’t question what I’m about to do,” he said with a severe tone.
“I know you’re upset, but after you left the dining hall, I went to–”
“I don’t want to know where you went,” he said harshly. It was as I feared, he hated me. We stopped and he finally looked at me. I expected to see anger and resentment, but I was met with sorrow. “I’m sorry, I should have told you, but . . .” He paused to search for the right words, but I could see they were failing him. Instead, he regained his strict demeanor, his brows furrowing with concern. “Listen, Rúmil, things are about to change that I–”
Suddenly, Raenor appeared on our path. Túron stopped and turned to a venomous manner, as he spoke loud enough for anyone within earshot to hear. “And here I thought you were a friend,” he seethed. “Well, to Mordor with you, and may an orc shove his shit in your lying mouth.”
I was completely thrown off guard, and still trying to comprehend what had just transpired between us. I thought he was trying to relay something to me, but now I could not escaped the daggers that shot from his narrowed eyes. You’ve lost him, my mind kept confirming, and now he hates you.
“Trouble, Captain?” Raenor asked as he caught us up. I mentally shook myself and regained my professionalism.
“Nothing I cannot handle,” I answered dryly, at least I thought I could handle it.
“What seems to be the problem?” Raenor went on questioning.
“No problem at all, just–”
Túron cut me off. “No problem? You fucking bastard! You went to the reassignment office without even discussing it with me, and requested a new assistant. And now there is a blemish on my record. How dare you treat me in such a way? Could you not have discussed it with me first?”
I felt the razor thin edges of his words begin to shred my heart, but I couldn’t let the pain show. I couldn’t help notice the resentment that spilled from his mouth, the same mouth that just the night before had so lovingly touched mine with a burning kiss. I was stunned and confused, and I no longer cared if my true emotions slipped out. “Túron, please, just let me explain,” I begged. I knew I should have reprimanded him for speaking to an officer in such a rude manner, but I couldn’t. I wanted desperately to speak with him.
“There’s nothing to explain … Captain!” Túron said, spitting my title with anger.
“Now see here,” Raenor bellowed. “You will not speak to a commanding officer in such a tone.”
Túron shot Raenor a murderous glare, and then turned it on me. “He is no longer my commanding officer, nor is he my friend, and I’ll speak as I see fit. Actually, I’ll not waste any more breath on him. Good riddance, I say.” With that, he marched off, leaving me feeling deflated and ruined.
“I think you’ve made an enemy,” Raenor commented with a slight smile.
“I am in no mood for your antics, Raenor. Why are you here anyways?” I scowled.
“I’ve come to discuss a few things with your brother, the March Warden. It’s none of your concern really, at least, I don’t think it is. Good day, Captain.” Raenor turned onto the path that lead to Haldir’s observing station, where he looked out onto his troops as they practiced on the field below.
What exactly did he mean by that? I thought about Beldor’s warning, ‘You’re being watched’, and wondered if someone had reported something to Raenor about Túron and me. After all, it was Raenor that instigated the search for those ignoring the army rules. If he couldn’t prove anything against me, then there was nothing to charge me with. I had to wonder how I’d been put in this position so fast. Had I been a target all along? Or had someone from my past raised suspicions? But why would they do such a thing. The only elves that came to mind were Beldor, Túron and Fandir, but I didn’t think any of them would have some kind of a vendetta against me. I was sure it was not Túron. Beldor had been the one who warned me, so I didn’t think he would have done anything. Fandir, well, it had been a very long time since we’d had any sort of conversation. When he left me – and it was definitely he who broke off our relationship – we had agreed to remain friendly, but distant. Our romance happened before I went into the military, and that couldn’t be held against me, though it had never come up. We had been very discreet. But who else could it be if it was not one of these three? I had no more time to think about it. I was at the training grounds, and there was work to be done. I put these new findings as far out of my mind as possible, which wasn’t very far, and got on with my day. But it was Túron’s harsh words that rang in my head the rest of the day. I needed to see him, and explain my reasons for banishing him. I needed him to know I did it to protect us. I feared it was too late, though. I feared that I’d lost him for good, and my heart was breaking, shattering and grinding into dust.
* * * * *
A few days passed, and I hadn’t received any kind of communication from Túron, good or bad. I hadn’t seen him around the area, and I was too afraid to go to his home, so I stayed away. I finally learned that he’d taken employment as a scribe’s assistant, half way to the other side of the city. He worked odd unpredictable hours. There was no way to contact him to set up a meeting. I wouldn’t chance my note being intercepted. I would just have to wait, and hope that he would at least hear me out.
After the altercation with Raenor, I started to remember what Túron whispered to me. He’d said that things were about to change. I didn’t know what that meant, but it sure didn’t sound promising. Was it a threat? Was he planning on confessing our love affair? Did he hate me that much? All I wanted was one moment with him to clear things up, but it didn’t look like that was going to happen anytime soon. And the worst part was … despite his harsh words and the hate that flowed from his tongue, I missed him. I just wanted him to know that, if nothing else.
Well, there was no use worrying over it. I had troops to organize. Summer was coming to a close and in three weeks, my regiment was marching to the borders for a three month tour of duty. There was still a lot to get done in that small frame of time. I would be too busy to try and rectify things with Túron.
My recruits were all doing very well, all but one, my best one, the one I’d traded for … Romon. He seemed depressed and on edge. I’d meant to talk to him about it, but with everything else going on, I had to put it off. Because of his mood, his technique suffered. He just wasn’t doing as well as he should have been. I watched him now, my best archer, the one I depended on to help teach the others, shoot arrow after arrow and hardly hit his target. Something had to be done. I waved him over to the side and waited for him to slowly slog across the field. He hadn’t always been like this. After the Choosing, he was eager to learn and happy to help others. Romon showed so much potential. I had high hopes for him. Now, he seemed like a shell of his former self.
“Romon, you look like you’re having trouble. Everything alright?” I asked, putting a firm hand on his shoulder and walking him away from the field. I took note of how very tall he was, and his dark brown hair was only to the middle of his back. Still so very young, he was, but I understood how some things could interfere with natural talents such as the one he had with a bow.
“Everything is fine, Captain,” he answered somberly.
“Doesn’t sound like it. What’s the matter?”
“It’s not something I feel I can discuss with you, Captain. I apologize if I’ve been slacking lately. I’ll try harder.”
“Come with me, soldier.” I led him away from the area, to a quiet place where we could speak without interruption. When we were alone, I began my interrogation. “I hope you know that you can speak to me openly about anything that might be bothering you. I’m your Captain and with that comes the responsibility to see to my men’s wellness. If something is bothering you, and it affects your abilities as a soldier, then it needs to be addressed. Anything you say will go no further than my ears; I promise you that.”
I could sense his hesitancy. I had a feeling that I might know what the problem was. Remembering the Choosing ceremony, and the moment that I announced Romon would join my regiment, I’d seen him look back at a soldier. It was not a look that friends might share. It was deeper and more emotionally charged than that. Since that day, I hadn’t given it much thought. Romon adjusted well, and I figured that all was in good standing. It’s not like I could ask him about it anyway, not without outing him and his lover – if that’s who he was – and risking my own secret life. Now it seemed that there was some kind of trouble. Perhaps the separation was too much for them. Though they were both members of the Northern Guard, they were in different regiments, and would not see much of each other outside of meals and personal reprieve. I knew I had to handle this situation in a most delicate way.
“So, Romon, is there some kind of relationship trouble?” I asked, making sure not to mention male or female. He lifted his eyes to meet mine, so sorrowful they looked.
“How did you know?” he asked with an edge of fear.
I smiled reassuringly. “I’ve been there myself. A soldier’s life can be a strain on a couple, especially if they have been together for a while. You’re used to being together, seeing each other any time you like. And then you join the army, and it owns your time, and it doesn’t care whether or not there is someone waiting to see you again. A lot of relationships fail because of our dedication to Lórien’s military.”
“Is that why you are not bound, Captain?” Romon asked, catching me off guard.
“It’s one reason why. I am committed to my job, and unless I meet someone who can understand that and be willing to share, then I’m afraid I will remain unattached.” I answered to the best of my ability. It was the truth, after all. And Túron was, I thought, the one who was willing. This discussion was bringing up some emotions that I was not ready to deal with, and I quickly wiped it from my thoughts. “We’ll finish up here, and then you’ll join me in my office. We’ll discuss this further, in private. But first, what do you say we shoot a few arrows first. It’s been a while since I practiced.”
Romon looked hopeful as he bowed to me. “Yes, Captain. That would be good. Thank you.”
We made our way to the archery practice area. I knew Haldir would want to discuss his findings after the inspection, but it would wait. Romon needed someone to talk to, and that was more important at the moment. Besides, I was not worried about my troops. My men were ready. In a way, I couldn’t wait to get to the borders. There was only black and white in a battle. Kill or be killed. Somehow it was easier to fight in a war than to deal with all the stress of city life. It would be good to get blood on my hands again. At least I wouldn’t think about Túron while I was engaged in battle.
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Path of Honor