Set in Stone - Haldir's Story -

Chapter 25 - Fits of Rage

It was the heat that woke Haldir from his light elven slumber. It was almost summer now in Lórien, that was true, but this strange heat made even him feel as if he were being baked alive. He even felt a film of sweat on his forehead. It was the middle of the night: the moon hadn't started setting yet according to the amount of light that was still shining through the windows of the flet. Haldir stiffly sat up, his back still not being quite back to normal. The heat was coming from the right part of the bed where Daëra was lying. She seemed asleep though, her eyes were closed... which was actually uncommon for an elf resting, and an elf she was now. Haldir frowned and when leaning over to her he immediately felt that she was the source of the heat. Her pupils were racing behind her closed eyelids and now and then her mouth was twitching: she seemed to have some sort of nightmare.

Haldir carefully stroked her forehead and cheek before shaking her shoulder slightly. "Wake up, it is merely a dream." When she didn't react to his voice, Haldir frowned. She shouldn't be sleeping so tightly – yet then, even elves did actually sleep from time to time, when they were hurt or extremely exhausted. The latter must be the case with Daëra. Haldir knew he wouldn't be able to drift away again now, so he propped himself up on his good arm and watched her. Her fists were gripping the sheets, he saw Náre gleaming on her right forefinger. It was shining a lot more than Haldir would have expected regarding the rather dim moonlight tonight. As a matter of fact, the ring seemed to gleam more than the moon itself. It was rather glowing...

In this second, a shudder went through Daëra's body. Her lips opened as if to scream, yet no sound escaped them. Her eyes flew open but the flames were burning inside them: she didn't see what was in front of her, she was too far gone. Her legs started kicking uncontrollably, she sat up and would have flung herself off the bed had not Haldir caught her and pushed her back onto the mattress, using his body weight to steady her shoulders. He took in a deep breath. "Daëra, wake up." His voice had become louder and sterner in an attempt to wake her from her trance-like state – to no use, though. This was different to when she had been using the Náre back on the battlefield; this was rather... a fit. She tried shaking him of, her fists were going everywhere – Haldir had to hold her wrists, his whole weight was hardly enough to pin her to the bed; she was screaming now, but he didn't know what to do, he didn't know what was hurting her; her temperature was increasing until he could hardly bear to touch her, but he did nonetheless... Then something caught his eye. Flames. Without even thinking, Haldir scooped Daëra up in his arms, climbed the window sill with a long step and jumped out. He didn't feel the impact when he landed on his feet, he only felt the woman he loved in his arms, almost on fire and fighting him as if it were him who was burning her alive. There was only one thought on his mind, the one thing he had been able to think of. He ran along the narrow path as if Daëra weighed nothing at all, until he came past a small pond that was supplied by a waterfall. Haldir held Daëra a bit tighter – and jumped in. The cold that surrounded him right after all that heat almost paralyzed him. There was water, then smoke, then water again; his ears were filled by a terrible hissing noise caused by evaporating water – but Haldir didn't allow him and Daëra to resurface until he had found right Daëra's hand and pulled Náre off. The ring was so hot in his hand – even though they were surrounded by water – that Haldir let go of it immediately. Its red glow grew weaker and weaker as it sank, but Haldir didn't really care. Actually, he wouldn't have minded never seeing its treacherous gleaming ever again.

The eye. It was everywhere, seeing everything, it was there right in front of her: its glance was pain, was fluid fire. It reached out for her, it couldn't destroy her, not yet – but it would soon, it just needed the one ring and then it would turn her to dust. Náre would turn against her, the evil stains in its beautiful silver would show and they would both go down. Middle-Earth would burn, Lórien – the only place that was still peaceful, the only clean, pure place would burn, all those trees and all the elves, everyone and everything would be lost forever. The pain Daëra felt was beyond description. She didn't know how to stop it, how to get away from his anger... when suddenly, she was surrounded by cold and couldn't breathe, it was dark and wet. They eye was gone, but the panic had remained, someone had thrown her into the sea, she drifted away...

Only when she resurfaced she realised she was in a pond. Daëra spat water and coughed, her hair was sticking to her face but she had difficulties in wiping it out of her eyes, for her hands were shaking so much. It didn't matter though, since other hands were doing it for her. Hands that seemed as cold as ice, while Daëra was slightly steaming. It took Daëra a few attempts before she managed to get a word out. "H-he was s-so angry," she stammered. Haldir looked down at her with an expression beyond fear. "Has something like that happened to you before? Since you have been an elf?" – She shook her head. "Not like this," she had to lean onto Haldir when for a split-second there was the eye again in front of her instead of Lórien and her lover. "I forgot t-to take off Náre – this made our connection much stronger. I used to feel safer when wearing the ring, but the Lady has warned me. She told me even she was taking hers off when she felt Sauron was extremely furious."

Daëra leaned into Haldir and he closed her arms around her. "You were on fire," he finally stated. Daëra's head shot up and she took a step back. "Pardon me?! Was I?" She looked left and right as if trying to orientate herself. She had thought Haldir had thrown her into the water to wake her, not to extinguish her – she had used her powers without knowing it. Fear – even more fear – crept up inside her. She was losing control. Daëra grabbed for her right index finger, she had to take her ring off this very second – but it was gone. "I have lost Náre in the pond." She looked up at Haldir, but the muscles in his face didn't move an inch. "I have to get it back." Daëra had just drawn in a deep breath when Haldir caught her arm. "Please. Don't." – Daëra let her breath go when she saw his pleading eyes. – "Do not go and look for it. It will hurt you." It will hurt me as well because I will have to see you in that state, unable to help. He never said it, but Daëra could read it in his expression as well as if he had. She put her hands on both sides of his face and pulled him down so their foreheads touched. "This was my fault alone – I should have taken it off after the battle. I will not wear it unless I have to use it, I promise. But I cannot leave it at the bottom of the pond – at the moment, it still can do good. Galadriel and I will travel to Mirkwood and perhaps we can save your home." – Haldir met her eyes. "Mirkwood is not my home." – Daëra felt such an amount of love well up in her it almost took her breath away. He knew she had to get Náre, deep within he knew. Náre could help Middle-Earth and by now, it had been with her almost all her life. The strange thing with rings of power was they were so hard or even impossible to abandon – no matter how much pain they caused.

Daëra stood on her tiptoes and pressed her lips to his – by now she had almost cooled down to a normal temperature, standing elbow-high in cold water. Then she stood back to find Náre in the darkness. Her elven sight and the connection with the ring made it easy for her to find it in the mud at the ground of the lake. The eye was still there, but it seemed further away, Sauron's wrath was easier to cope with – by now he probably was also concentrating his anger on scheming new plans and not on the elven rings of power. One thing at least was clear on her mind: she must never lose control like that again. She couldn't afford to trust Náre. Ever.

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