Continued from Reunion.
Fortunately Rainith had apparently decided that arguing would take too much energy, and she obediently left to return to her rooms. Maltariel made her way down to the spot she'd suggested, waiting for what seemed like an inordinate amount of time before the other arrived. At least Rainith was clearly ready, wearing the light garb she favoured for fighting, and carrying her sword. Maltariel shook her head at that, pointing to the two practice blades she'd brought. She didn't know how rusty Rainith might be, and she didn't want to take the risk of injuring her friend on the eve of her own introduction to the Order of the Fountain. It might be rather hard to explain. Rainith collected one, moving almost languidly in her reluctance, and Maltariel found a slightly irritated comment escaping past her control: “If I had recruits as slow as you, we'd have been overrun generations ago while we waited for them to get ready.”
At that a rather welcome spark of anger kindled in Rainith's eyes – Maltariel was already missing the previous good nature of her friend, but at least she was now beginning to look interested in something. Far less welcome was Rainith's uncharacteristic retort, however, as she drew herself back into her self-imposed dignity and remarked, “I don't think you should talk to me like that. They've made me a Caun, now, after all.”
Maltariel gave her a very long, steady look, and Rainith at least had the grace to look ashamed, turning away as if to avoid Maltariel's eyes entirely. At that Maltariel answered slowly, “I would hope that even the Cauns of Vanimar still have friends to talk to them 'like that' when they are being foolish.”
Rainith said nothing more, and Maltariel took up her own practice sword, settling into a ready stance opposite the smaller elf. Rainith waited a few moments longer as if expecting some kind of instruction, but when none was forthcoming, she unwillingly imitated her partner.
For a minute or two Maltariel was willing simply to test the other's responses, but she quickly became disappointed with what she found. Rainith's effort was lacklustre at best, and more than once Maltariel was able to evade her guard, simply because the younger elf was so distracted.
“Has anyone ever told you that you watch your own feet when you're thinking of something else?” She remarked eventually, taking a step away and swinging the weighted blade slowly. That at least drew a small smile from Rainith – both of them knew the source of that particular rebuke all too well. Their shared friend had a particular dislike for people watching footwork instead of paying attention to what their opponent was doing.
“Again,” Maltariel continued, bringing her blade up once more. “And this time, put some energy into it. You should be done warming up by now.” Rainith looked somehow even gloomier, the smile fading entirely from her expression, but she obediently readied herself. This time Maltariel did not attempt to slow her attacks to match Rainith's feeble attempts, and she disarmed her several times with ease, the final time giving her a crack on the wrist with the practice sword which had Rainith gasping in pain and backing away, dropping her sword with a thud.
“Ouch! What is the matter with you?!” The younger elf exclaimed indignantly, massaging her wrist as she eyed Maltariel warily. Maltariel was glad to see that a spark of genuine anger was lighting her eyes, and the exercise was beginning to bring a certain life back into her movements. Still, she was dissatisfied.
“Even if you hadn't touched a sword since you left us, you should not be moving this slowly,” she pointed out firmly, pointing with her own blade for Rainith to pick hers up once more. “You aren't even trying, and so you're wasting both of our time. Will spending time now thinking about what ever it is that's on your mind help the situation?” Rainith slowly shook her head, beginning to look ashamed, and Maltariel continued briskly, “Then set it aside and concentrate. Splitting your focus is making you sloppy and stupid. I am not here to indulge your emotional whims – you are here to practice properly. So please do so.”
Rainith was beginning to look far more like herself – the anger that still showed in her set jaw left her expression increasingly determined, and if there was sorrow in her eyes, at least it no longer seemed to be overwhelming all else. They continued until Maltariel was convinced that Rainith was coming back to herself, beginning to show the speed and agility that had been drilled into her as an appropriate response to stronger opponents. Eventually she nodded and pulled back, allowing her young opponent to set her blade against a tree and rest, breathing heavily.
“Better. I don't know what you've been doing before now, but while I am here I want to see you here at least every two days,” Maltariel watched her as she spoke, wondering if she was over-doing the role of instructor. Fortunately Rainith seemed almost relieved to slip back into the more familiar role of student, for she was already nodding obediently, all her ill-fitting authority forgotten. They sat down by the side of the lake, watching the water in a rather more companionable silence. Maltariel gave Rainith the letter she had brought from the woods, and Rainith read it quietly, smiling occasionally at its contents, although her expression did not lose its sad cast. Eventually, Maltariel knew it was time to address the real issue.
Keeping her voice gentle, as if she could somehow protect her young friend from the words that way, she turned to Rainith and asked softly, “Rainith, what has happened here? Where is Galdorion?”
Rainith flinched as if hit, and Maltariel felt as though she had shattered her peace entirely. She knew a pang of sympathy and guilt for asking, but she had guessed from her evasiveness even before she'd seen her that Rainith was hiding from the truth – trying to avoid talking about it or thinking about it, as if that way she could somehow avoid accepting it. Whatever had happened, she was using this strange new title to hide herself behind a wall of false dignity and anger, and only succeeding in driving herself to exhaustion with the efforts.
Slowly, unwillingly, Rainith turned to face her. Her face seemed paler than ever against her dark hair, her green eyes sparkled with un-shed tears. Maltariel waited silently, her own blue eyes catching Rainith's and holding them still, her expression as reassuring as she could contrive it. The moment seemed to stretch for an eternity, until with a shudder the words seemed to burst from Rainith's lips as if hurled forth.
“He is sent to Lorien once more – only this time it is at my hand. He promised me he would not leave me... so they had me exile him... to save him from worse.”
Rainith turned away, and Maltariel moved closer, wrapping a steadying arm around her shoulder as she asked, “But not for long, surely?”
She shook her head silently, but then as if she couldn't help herself continued, “I am afraid... I am afraid that he will not come back. He was so... strange when he heard what Lord Anglachelm had decided. He would not even look at me. And now...” Rainith kept her face turned to the lake, as if ashamed to show her tears to Maltariel. Only the soft shudders of her suppressed sobs, and the silvery tracks down her face betrayed her. “He did not even say goodbye. He is gone, and he did not say goodbye!” She seemed to collapse in on herself, curling up as though to hide her pain, and beginning to weep in earnest. Maltariel wrapped both her arms around the slim figure, holding her as tightly as if she might break apart, her own expression filled with sorrow as she listened to Rainith's heartbroken sobs. The sound echoed across the lake, and it seemed as though the water-birds cried out in answer and then fell silent in shared grief, as many gave voice to harsh complaints at the disturbed peace. For a long time, Maltariel remained silent, allowing Rainith to give voice to the fears she had kept hidden. Finally, she too fell still, exhausted by the strength of her emotions. Gently, Maltariel shifted position, one hand going to stroke the weary elf's dark hair soothingly, while with the other she fished around in her tunic for a clean cloth, which Rainith took gratefully.
“What will you do?” She asked quietly, once her young companion seemed to have regained control of herself.
Rainith shook her head slowly, raising her head once more to look out over the still waters. “Carry on, I suppose. And wait. I have learnt to be good at that.” She gave Maltariel a sorrowful smile that made the older elf feel suddenly strangely naive, and they sat in silence for a while, as the quiet peace of their surroundings slowly re-established itself in both.
They did not have long. A messenger came from the House with a note from a lady seeking a meeting with Rainith, and Maltariel let her go, returning to her own tasks with a rather more thoughtful heart. She had not been sure what she had expected upon seeing Rainith in her own home, but it seemed that things were going to be far more complicated than she had imagined.
