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The air was warm in the little huts the Folk of Haleth had build in the forest of Brethil. The fire was controlled, but hot, leaving its occupants comfortably warm. The women and men were chatting together, mostly with grave, withdrawn faces. Their journey to the forest of Brethil had been long one and everyone was tired.
”Bareth,” a steady voice called from the entrance of one of the huts. A woman, a bodyguard of Haleth, rose to leave. She was tall and of strong build, which came from several years of fighting and farming. Her dark hair was tied away from her face into several long braids that for now hung rather loosely around her shoulders and back. Usually Bareth tied them up so they would not get caught anywhere. Now she stepped out of the hut, her steps long and determined as was her way, glancing at the one who called her.
”Haleth?” she asked, her tone indicating a much larger question (”Is something wrong?”). Haleth, the chieftain of the Haladin, smiled only, biding her to follow. So Bareth did, for she had been picked to protect Haleth by the chieftain herself, and she stook her work very seriously.
Bareth was lead through the forest. Mainly they walked forward, she following her chieftain a bit behind, but sometimes Haleth stopped to pick up flowers or fallen leaves from the tree with a sad expression. Though she wondered at this behaviour, Bareth stayed quiet, not questioning where they were going. Like this they walked forward in the dark night, until at last Haleth stopped at a small cliff. Standing on its edge, she seemed to mournfully regard the different objects in her hands. Slowly she rose her hands towards the moon and opened them, letting the petals, leaves and sticks fall down. The wind captured the light little pieces of the forest, taking them away. For while, both of them were silent. Then Haleth spoke, her voice little and sorrowful.
”In the dark times, will there also be singing?” Haleth asked tiredly, her eyes still tracking the darkness where the flowers and leaves disappeared.
”Yes,” Bareth only answered, her eyes fixed to her chieftain.
”You promise?”
”Yes.”
”Is this place good enough? Can we stay here?” Haleth questioned still, not looking to her bodyguard.
”Yes,” her bodyguard answered, walking closer to put a hand to her shoulder. To reassure, to comfort.
”You can’t know that, Bareth,” Haleth whispered, turning to finally look at the taller woman. ”We’ve only arrived. It is not day. We have not talked with the Elves of that place. My Elvish is still so stoic and badly pronounced. Will they trust us, even?”
”Yes,” was the only answer she got. It was not because Bareth would not care. Haleth knew that. Bareth knew that Haleth knew that she would say that the Elves would trust them, because they slaughtered the orcs in Thargelion, because that deed had been noticed much farther than Haleth herself had realised. Perhaps Caranthir, the Lord of Thargelion and an Elf, had spread the message. He had had a deep respect for Haleth, and his brothers were spread everywhere.
”Bareth…” Haleth sighed, taking a step closer to her. Bareth responded by opening her arms and drawing Haleth to an embrace, pressing her face to the side of Haleth’s head. Her chieftain smelled of sweat as usual, combined with her natural scent. Not that Bareth would smell any better after all this walking. Haleth let out a small noise, which could have been a sob or just indication that she appreciated the gesture. Bareth leaned to give a kiss to her head, and as she attempted to do that again, Haleth rose her head and kissed her back. They slightly smiled to each other, sat down, and looked down from the edge.
”There will be singing, Haleth,” Bareth then said. ”There will be happiness. I promise to you.”
Once more they kissed, only fleeting, their hands entwining together. Together they pressed closer to each other, leaning their heads close, enjoying each other’s presence and safety, and began to sing. Not happy songs, but songs of lament and loss, for both of them had lost family to this mindless war. At least they had each other.
And maybe later they could sing together once more, but with happier voices and more cheerful lyrics.