Tel\' Lindar (The Bard)

SSDD - nothing has changed. You know what is mine, you know what ain\', you know who I claim and you know who I cain\'t. I\'m making NO money at this and I mean no disrespect to JRRT or JKR.

Chapter 11 -

The Guilty Shall Rise or This is the Nightmare that doesn\'t end.


***

Home is behind, the world ahead
There are many paths to tread
Through Shadow, to the edge of night
Until the stars are all alight
Mist and shadow, cloud, and shade
All shall fade
All shall fade

Pippin\'s Song
ROTK Soundtrack
JRR Tolkien/Howard Shore

***

He awoke to darkness. Slowly, allowing his eyes to become attuned to the almost enveloping black, he soon recognized his surroundings.

His own room.

\"Damn it all!\" He sat up, throwing off the quilt lightly covering him. \"It is bad enough he invades my sleep, infests my dreams, drags me all over that hell called Middle Earth. Now he has the audacity to invade my own chambers, while I slumber!\"

He swung his legs around and stood up quickly.

\"Lumos!\"

Small lights in his chambers flickered on at his command and he took in the sight of his room, trying to hunt out where the wretched Elf would be hiding.

Instead, he found The Wolf. The White Beast sat off to his left, regarding him with bored disinterest.

As if he were guarding him.

\"You, as well? You assail my slumber also? Now he is dragging you into the wretched nightmares as well?\" Long fingers combed through inky locks. \"What must I do to get peace?\"

He grabbed his white shirt, throwing it on, not bothering to button it as he stormed from the room into his sitting chambers and stopped short.

She sat in a chair, legs curled up beside her. One of his books dangled from her knee dangerously. Her chin was propped on her hand.

If her breathing was any indication, she was in deep sleep. He was aware of silent padfalls as her beast came in behind him and lay next to her chair.

Deep indigo eyes scrutinized him.

Judged him.

The book tipped further, sliding from her knee. Quickly, with the speed of a cat, he dipped to one knee, catching it before it fell completely. As he laid the book to the side, a glint caught his eye.

Her necklace.

Truly, it was not a necklace, rather a black, corded rope. A ring and a cross lay in the ravine of her breasts.

No. Not one ring... But two...

With an infinitely gentle caress, he slid his hand beneath, knuckles brushing the soft skin and palmed the rings and cross. One was ornate, encrusted with sapphires and garnets. He glimpsed Elvish writing inside the band. The second was a single row of diamonds, beautiful in its simplicity. He squinted, a long lock of hair, falling into his face, and peered closely at the tiny inscription inside it.

My Fiery One. My treasure, My Air, My Greatest Jewel. Forever. Haldir of Lorien.

It took every ounce of self-control he had to keep from squeezing the stones until they shattered...

\"You realize,\" a soft fingertip tucked the fallen lock of hair behind his ear, \"that no man or Elf has been this close to my breasts in some time.\"

Severus dropped the jewelry, not seeing it bounce heavily on her chest. He jerked back realizing...

This is not a dream...

...startled eyes looking into hers. Mischievousness alight and burning with a small flame, a small smile on her...

I am not asleep. This is not a dream...

Severus tried to pull away, but could not. Both of her hands were wrapped around his, a gentle prison.

\"How did you sleep?\"

He tilted his head as he watched her legs ease out from the chair and she slid to the floor in front of him.

\"How did you sleep?\" She asked again.

\"I slept... well.\" Dawning lit in his eyes. He rose to his feet quickly, pulling her with him. \"What time is it? My poti...\"

\"Is fine. Albus stirred it at the appropriate time.\" She looked over his shoulder to the clock on his mantle. \"It is well after two in the morning. I am sorry, you have missed dinner.\"

After two? Severus turned to the clock. \"I have slept...\"

\"Oh, at least nine hours. Maybe ten. How is your back? Your headache?\"

His hair flew as he turned back to her. Nine or ten hours? He had not slept that long in years. He could not remember ever sleeping that long. He stretched his back, arching muscles that did not groan in agony. His head did not hurt.

Snape glared down at her, watching the top of her head as her hand glided upwards, over his wrist, above the fading mark...

\"What did you do?\" His voice was a hoarse whisper.

Bronwyn shrugged and looked around. \"Well, after you went to sleep, I had a nice chat with Bobbin. Had the most interesting conversation...\"

Severus stared at her in disbelief. \"Stop misunderstanding me on purpose, madam!\" He grabbed her hand, clamping it hard over the mark he no longer coveted.

He watched in perverse fascination, as she jerked and writhed, fighting to remove her hand from the Death Head, that despicable mark that Voldemort branded on him, marking him, claiming him as his.

Growling, snapping came from behind him...

Swiftly, realizing he was being warned, he released her, thought better of it and pulled her to him. Tucking a finger beneath her chin, he jerked her face upwards.

\"What did you see?\"

Tears ran, overflowing her eyes. \"Women, men, pain, guilt. By the Valar, how do you stand it?\"

Anger roared through his temples, inciting the tension recently released.

\"N\'uma! No, do not!\" Her hand flew to the side of his face. \"I spent an hour loosening angry muscles.\" The palm of her hand was cool, gentle on his face, and despite the sweetness of her touch, his eyes glittered.

\"What did you do? What did you see? What Elven mischief did you conjure?\"

Bronwyn wiped her nose inelegantly on her sleeve. \"Elven mischief. Elrond should lay you low. Or Gandalf.\" She stepped backwards and turned to face her familiar. Amadeus thrust his head into the palm of her hand as she stroked the beast. She stooped to one knee, her arms encircling the wolf. \"No Elven mischief. In fact, it was nothing more than some old-fonedoned, Muggle-style feel-good medicine.\"

Feel good? That is what she called it. Severus stretched his neck again. She was correct. He did feel good.

\"What kind of feel-good medicine? What was in the tea you gave me?\"


She continued to lavish attention on her appreciative pet. \"Aromatherapy. Massage Therapy. I used and developed it with Haldir.\" She took a deep breath. \"He would get some incredible migraines. Of course,\" with this, she turned the animal loose, stood tall and turned tow him him, \"he did not help matters. He yanked on his braid quite a bit.\"

Severus pulled his own fingers across his scalp. \"He pulled his own hair? That was not very bright.\" Gentle hands grasped his, removing them from the inky strands.

\"As for the tea,\" she smiled, \" it was a concoction Elrond would give me when I was most... stressed.\" She was telling an inside joke that he did not get.

\"What kind of concoction?\"

She giggled softly. \"If you must know, the tea had herbs in it that Elrond would give me when I was in labor, you dolt!\" She murmured humorously. Severus inhaled angrily and she cut him off with a dismissive wave. \"Do not even THINK in that tone of voice! It relaxed me enough to pass very large children and it apparently worked wonders with you. Now, allow me to call Bobbin to bring you something to eat. Then we will talk.\"

\"Madam, what do we have to talk about?\" Chatting aimlessly was the last thing the Potions Master wanted to do.

\"Your memories. Your guilt. Some information I have recently received.\" Snape felt her mind churn... chewing on a past indiscretion. Her voice, when she finally spoke was low, ancient.

\"You have pestered me for the last time about the dragon.\"

***

I\'m not crazy, I\'m just a little impaired
I know right now you don\'t care
But soon enough you\'re gonna think of me
And how I used to be... me

Unwell
Rob Thomas/ Matchbox 20

***

Severus pulled the meat of the chicken from the bone and popped it in his mouth, savoring the herbal flavor. His eyes never left her as she patiently waited, perusing his library as he ate. She said nothing, yet he knew she fair boiled with unasked questions.

\"Massage therapy? Where did you learn that? On that Elvish commune where you lived?\"

\"A commune.\" Bronwyn snickered, never taking her eyes from his bookshelves. \"Only you would think that. No. I learned massage therapy here before I was sent to Middle Earth.\" The silence fell as she continued to scan over titles.

\"Well. Are you going to tell me or not?\" Snape could feel her churning, gnawing on something.

\"Oh, it\'s quite harmless, I assure you. In the conservatory, one spends a lot of time in a practice room. Tight, confined, airless places. My favorite piano was in a room where the piano took up the entire space. It was nothing to come out of a room such as that after four or five hours, cramped and bent over, unable to move. A violinist I accompanied had a father who was a chiropractor - a doctor that specializes in spinal alignment - and he taught a bunch of us.\" She smiled at a long past memory and Severus was struck with the scene of a much younger, thinner, Bronwyn, walking on the shirtless back of a large young man; her painted toes working on the upper back.

She fell silent again and went back to pulling out books, only to replace them. Although he concentrated on the plate in front of him, Severus felt her agitation. Gad, if she did not spit it out and soon, she was going to make his own stomach pitch. He picked up a rather fluffy dinner roll.

\"Talk, Bronwyn.\" He pulled the roll into small pieces. Bobbin had forgotten to bring eating utensils and the silly chit had actually laughed and told the house elf not to worry about the silverware. The esteemed Professor Severus Snape was going to learn about Barbarian Feast Day!

Watching him from the corner of her eye, she decided he did so - with style! Sitting in the floor, with the plate on the small, square table, shirt still unbuttoned... damn, the man made eating with his fingers sexy, even! Bronwyn had difficulty focusing on the books.

\"I said talk, Bronwyn.\" Severus was now intent on his plate, never looking up. \"Your thoughts rattle about your head like few marbles in an oversized jar.\" Long fingers held the bread in front of his mouth. \"If you do not tell me what troubles you, I will get another headache.\" The bread and finger disappeared into his mouth. Only then did he look up and regard her with the most apathetic expression.

She opened her mouth...

He raised a single eyebrow...

\"The Twins. They are alive.\" she blurted.

\"The Weasley Twins?\"

\"Who?\"

Ah, that was right. She did not KNOW the Weasleys, the prankster progeny of that most auspicious family. Severus quietly chuckled.

\"Which twins, madam?\"

Her eyebrows came together in an angry knot. \"Oh, who is being obtuse now? Which twins, my ass! Elrond\'s, you nincompoop! Elrohir! Elladan!\"

\"Ah. THOSE twins.\" Severus\' eyes returned to his plate, picking and choosing over the carcass of the bird. \"I am happy for them.\" Elrond\'s sons, alive? After how many millennia? Severus wondered what Fountain of Youth they had tapped into.

\"Severus!\" She tore across the room and flung herself on the floor across from him. \"The Twins. The Warrior Twins. Elrond\'s sons. The Wizards\' ancestors... your ancestors...\"

Severus lifted a single finger. \"Not mine. According to that Elf of yours, I am descended from their sister, Arwen.\" He returned his full attention to his plate. \" I do not know why that makes me feel better about the whole thing!\" he muttered, dryly.

For the first time in ages, food actually had a taste... and it tasted good. He delved back into the plate.

\"Severus! The Twins! They are alive...\"

\"I believe we covered that already.\"

Silence.

...din...

\"Merlin\'s...thong, Severus!\" The Potion Master nearly spewed his meal right there at her inelegant and pitifully worded curse, \"Elrond\'s sons! Those that he has thought dead for over thirty seven thousand years. He has grieved them, as well as his wife Celebrian, and their grandparents, Celeborn and Galadriel...\"

\"That perverted curmudgeon is a grandfather?\"

\"...have grieved their loss for so long. They are alive!\" She grabbed his hands, he still struggling to put the piece of food held twixt his fingers in his mouth.

He finally gave up.

\"So, they are alive. Send Elrond my congratulations, by owl or card and be done with it! May I please eat my food?\"

\"You are a total shit!\" She smacked him, at his hands and threw herself into the chair behind her. \"You don\'t get it at all...\"

\"Apparently not...\" he mumbled, as he returned to his plate.

\"Severus Snape! Pay attention!\" He raised an eyebrow at her terse tone of voice. If she used THIS voice in a classroom, no student would brook her. Why, she could almost come to his level of imperiousness.

Almost.

\"Listen carefully. As far as any have known, the Twins have been dead for oh, thirty seven thousand years. But from what Bobbin has told me,\" and she had told Snape that story, \"they still live. Yet, they did not come forward when we arrived almost three years ago. They knew how ecstatic their parents and grandparents would be! They had friends arrive back.\"

Severus finally decided he was full and using the napkin the bird-brained house elf had managed to remember, wiped his mouth and fingers. Eating with one\'s fingers. What a novel concept!

\"So, simply owl Elrond or Celeborn and tell them the Twins are alive.\" he shrugged.

He knew if she had anything in hand, she would have launched it at him. The thought that she was fuming amused him. The fact that he himself was causing her to fume amused him even more.

\"I can\'t do that! ‘Dearest Elrond. Had an amazing conversation with a house elf the other day. He says he is descended from Orcs and your boys, stinkers that they are, are still alive! What say we send out a search party?\' I cannot write that!\"

\"Why ever not? Sounds perfectly reasonable to me.\" He caught the heavy book aimed at his head. \"Madam, if you wish to hurl books at me, please do not use mine, but your own!\"

\"Severus! They did not come forward when we arrived, or afterwards. They have remained hidden. Why? I cannot just write him and tell him unless we find th...\"

\"We? No. There is no ‘we\' in finding Elrond\'s wandering sons. Owl him, tell him, drop it. You and I have other things on our agenda!\"

\"I cannot just sit here and do nothing! They are the fathers of my grandsons. Oh, Sweet Ellbereth! Faeowynne! What will Faeowynne do?\"

Severus thought of Bronwyn\'s daughter, this one who had slept with BOTH Twins in order to have children by both. \"If you have to ask what you think your daughter will do upon discovering her lovers are still alive, I have to wonder how you had children to begin with.\"

Another book was thrown at him. He snatched this one from the air as well. \"I believe I specifically asked you not to use my books as weapons.\" Gracefully, he stood up, standing tall above her. \"Please change the subject. You are still seething with this one and I, for one, could care less at this time. Therefore, I shall leave you to agitate on it for a while. What other loose marble vexes thee?\"

With her back turned, she mimicked him. What vexes thee, what vexes thee, head wagging in aggravation.

The wolf snorted at that.

She thought for a moment, the wheels turning. She opened her mouth to protest.

\"No.\" He lifted a finger to cut her off. \"I will not discuss the Twins any further at this time.\" He took in her angry look. \"This information is new to you and you do not know what to do with it.\"

\"I hate it when you do that!\"

Severus leaned over, bracing himself over her, hands on the arms of the chair. His shirt hung open, revealing ridged abs. \"Do what?\"

\"Read my mind!\" Bronwyn\'s eyes bore into his, fires burning. \"Haldir did not... could not read my mind.\"

\"Haldir had thirty eight thousand years to know you. I do not have that luxury.\"

I do not wish that luxury... I think...

Her scent rose... raspberries... and he leaned in and over her, his nose at her earlobe...

Bronwyn\'s mind was racing. She was furious at her inability to shield herself from him, furious at the events racing through her mind that she could not control, enraged at her inability to remove her eyes from the pale, marble chest in front of her... enveloping her... burning wood... rosemary... peppermint...

\"Focus, Bronwyn. What else... upsets you...\"

Her finger lifted... traced the ridge of a muscle. Cool fingers trailed downwards, around his side. To the buckled ridge she could not smooth.

And oh, how she had tried...

Her face turned, into his, lips barely apart. He could feel her breath as she spoke and it took every ounce of self-control he possessed not to take her right there.

\"You lied.\"

The fingers continued to trace thend. nd.

\"You lied. Voldemort did not do this to you.\"

If years, centuries, millennia could be carried in a single voice, it was carried in hers.

\"He ordered it. He might as well have done it.\"

Her fingers continued theith uth under his shirt, up his back.

\"Voldemort did not do this one, either.\"

\"But he ordered it, Bronwyn. He did it.\"

Gods, he wanted her... she was close, close enough for the taking...

\"Everything you did, you did at his command. Or at Dumbledore\'s as a spy. Yet you cleave to your guilt.\" Her fingers continued their gentle caress. \"Why would you forgive those that did this, in his name, yet you will not forgive yourself?\"

If he did not break contact, he would take her, right there on the chair...

If youm hem her, Wizard... take her before she is truly ready, I will chase you through Death\'s Door myself. Then you will deal with me and all the magics in creation will not aid you.

Severus pulled back, shocked at the intrusion. He jerked his head to her familiar.

Amadeus stared, his eyes cold, fur bristling. His lip was curled up, canines showing.

\"Severus?\" The Potions Master turned and looked back at her, brow furrowed.

\"You saw what all I have done, at his command, at Dumbledore\'s command. Would you forgive me?\"

Bronwyn looked horrified at his question. \"I do not blame you! Iluvatar knows wretched things have been done during war to correct the balance, to right the wrongs.\"

\"Then you are one of few who do not blame me for mistakes made at the lowest point of my life.\"

\"Then chalk it up as that. A mistake made in youth! A mistake I know you have worked to correct, to pay for. God knows I have done things...\"

In a fit of perverse fury, he jerked her to him. \"What would you have done, oh Noble Bard, Historian of the Masses, Savior of the Wizards. In my shoes, what would you have done?\"

What have you done that is so abhorrent?

With equal fury, she pulled and turned away. No, not fury, but sorrow.

\"Severus, I can\'t answer that. I just know what I saw. The pain and guilt you carry is over whelming.\" She looked at the bowl, high on a shelf. She knew what it was. Had seen it in her ministrations. \"Severus, you have a pensieve. Why do you not put those memories there? They bind you. If you could place them there, it would set you free.\"

\"Do you truly believe that?\"

\"Yes, I do.\"

Large, calloused hands settled on her shoulders and turned her. With a gentleness she did not think he was capable of, he reached down and clasped one hand between his. \"My worst memories are in that bowl. I do not turn these loose because they mold me, shape me, cause me not to forget who I am, what I am, what I was.\" He took in the look of confusion on her face. \"Would you give up the memory of Haldir\'s death? Could you truly give up that entire memory up?\"

In a split second, Severus found himself where he never thought he would be.

Where he did NOT want to be.

Her memory of Haldir\'s death.

***

It was a small, secluded restaurant. He could smell the food, the wine. Silverware scraping plates, the low hum of intimate conversation. They had been seated in an isolated, dark corner, away from prying and curious eyes. They had still been stared at, pointed at, whispered about...

‘Haldir. That is Haldir of the Elves, Valinor.\'

‘His wife... Bronwyn... Tel\' Lindar... The Bard...\'

Women had looked appreciatively at the Elf, wondering how a nondescript, robust woman had captured the heart of one so beautiful. That he had eyes for no one but her was obvious.

When they rose to leave, people stepped to the side, allowing the Big Elf room to move. The two walked side by side, equals, the closeness they shared, evident, he was holding her by the hand.

She chattered, chattered like a magpie, endlessly going on and on and the Elf was smiling at something she said.

Then they exited the building.

She stood in front and was standing on tip toes, reachfor for his mouth...

Severus heard the hammer draw back, heard the safety mechanism drop.

Quick, quicker than a human could move, the Elf had shoved her behind him, back through the doorway, eyes moving, darting.

One moment he stood, proud, angry, searching for the one who dared harm her, dared to try to take her from him; the next, he was crumbling, falling backwards, his tunic darkening with blood.

She was screaming. Gods, he remembered that scream; it had gone on and on and on...

She was mumbling, incoherent words. And the Big Elf, dying, yet so calm in the face...

\"Trust him, Baraermin. Trust the new Guardian. Trust Elrond\'s child. Find your bow. I love you.\"

\"What new Guardian? You are Lord of my heart, my only Guardian.\"

\"Trust him... I love you, Baraermin...\"

***

Just as quickly, he found himself, back in his study. Bronwyn stood before him, face in her hands, weeping.

From the moment he had been shot, he knew! He knew what the Wizard would be to her.

And he had told her to trust me... dying, he told her to trust me.

Bronwyn was looking at him with tear - streaked eyes. \"N\'uma. I would never give that memory away. As horrid as it is, it was the last time I held him, the last time he touched me, the last time he said he loved me. No. I\'ll not give that one up.\"

Her breathing was ragged and he strode around her, leaving her for the moment in her raw grief. He stepped up to the fireplace and grabbing the Scotch from the mantle, poured her a hefty glass, before downing a swallow himself.

\"Drink it.\" He placed the glass in front of her.

***

Even true love - true love
Breathes fire onto mirrors
Find me at the gates of wisdom
Questions falling, falling on deaf ears

harvest
Andreas Vollenweider

***

He had allowed her to cry it out. Best get if over with, he figured. She had finally sunk to the floor, mentally curling inward. He allowed her to sit there for an enormous amount of time before pulling her from the cold stone and dropping her in a chair. Her head had been down, hair hanging in front of her face.

Severus felt the need to say something... comforting.

\"I understand your desire to keep that particular memory for the reasons you stated. Please understand that my reasons for keeping mine are similar.\"

Bronwyn\'s head jerked up, her eyes remarkably clear.

The question burned, was branded on his mind. Severus Snape was never one to bandy thoughts, to wait patently when an opportunity presented itself. And despite her recent outburst, he wanted to know.

\"What memory plagues you that you would feel guilt over? What memory haunts you to the point of illness? What memories would you put in a pensieve, if you could?\"

Her smile sent chills up his spine.

With a lithe grace that belied her stature, she stood, taking his hands into hers.

\"Let me show you a time long ago, of powers unknown and untested, of a gift I consider a curse...\"

One minute, Severus was standing, looking down at her.

The next, he was flying.

***
TBC
***