They stood before him arrayed in leather armor – an elite fighting force, the greatest warriors from among their respective clans. Helmets of steel adorned their proud heads and polished swords lay strapped to their backs alongside great quivers of arrows. Each ellon carried a mighty bow as long as the warrior was tall.

Quietly he strode among them as they stood in rigid formation, looking each warrior in the eyes as he passed. Courage and intense pride met him in every gaze. These sons of the Noldor, Sindar, and Galadhrim stood shoulder to shoulder, ready to march at his order, ready to die at his command.

The kin of these ellyn, wives, parents, siblings, and children looked on, confident that they would return. But Lord Celeborn did not share that confidence.

He knew what he was doing, ordering these soldiers to Helm’s Deep to aid the desperate mortals in the battle which was sure to come. And he knew better than anyone – including his puissant, far-seeing beloved wife – what that outcome would be.

Stopping before Haldir, the captain of Lórien’s march wardens, Celeborn looked long upon him.

“My captain and my friend, what you are leaving to do, I…” Celeborn began.

Haldir flashed him a reassuring smile. “We will bring our people honor in this battle.”

“I know you will. I am just concerned. I just--” 

But Haldir cut him off. “My lord, I have not foreseen my death nor those of my kinsmen accompanying me. Do not fear for us. I will lead my warriors well and we shall return victorious.”

Celeborn closed his eyes for a moment, then sighed, nodding his acceptance. Meeting Haldir’s gaze once again, he clapped him on the shoulder, nearly choking on the blessing as he spoke it.

“May the Belain protect you all and bring you home victorious.”

In a deep commanding voice, Haldir bellowed the orders for his warriors to march.

Galadriel joined Celeborn, wrapping her arm around his waist, but her presence brought him no reassurance. Together, they watched the ellyn stride away to their doom, though only Celeborn fully understood that for some, the doom which awaited would be far greater than any could have imagined.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Belain – (Sindarin) the Valar

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

The pain that seared through his arm was nothing compared to the agony that flashed across his back, wrenching his broad shoulders as his spine seemed to snap in two.

This was it. It was over.

He never even saw the last blow come – the one that was claiming his life. How had this happened?

He fell hard to his knees, unable even to bend forward against the weight of the pain that dragged him down. Lightning shot across the sky and angry thunder startled back in surprised rage as torrents bathed his wound from above. Even the sky shared his dismay at this fatal blow.

As he blinked against the pain, the rain dripped in his eyes, temporarily blurring his vision. He cast his proud gaze to the ground and saw both of his brothers lying nearby, blood smeared on their still and muddy forms. The sound of his heart shattering at the sight was echoed by the thunder ripping apart the night. He had not only failed his Lord and Lady in this ill-fated battle at Helm’s Deep, he also had failed his beloved younger brothers, his only remaining kin.

The next bolt of lightning struck so close that his hair stood on end. A tingling fire coursed through him, numbing the pain of his wounds. The brilliance of the flash blinded his eyes, leaving him staring, but seeing nothing as the world slowly faded from view.

***********

His next awareness brought the sensation of a softness encompassing his body. All around him was darkness, yet there was music which caressed his ears – music which was as gentle as the light of stars in the sky.

So, this is what it is like to be dead and a new arrival in Mandos’ Halls, he thought drowsily.

He lay enraptured by the music until once again, he knew no more.

***********

Something warm and gentle repeatedly brushed his cheek and combed through his hair where it flowed midway down his bare back. He lay on his stomach on something soft and warm. Moving the fingers of his right hand, he realized the softness was fur. He opened his heavy eyelids to gaze in surprise upon bright blue eyes set in a lovely face framed by radiant silver hair that glinted in the candle light as if stars were caught in the flowing waves.

Such loveliness he had never before seen in an elleth. Well, the Lady Galadriel was incredibly beautiful, but she was more like the blossom of dawn in the morning where this elleth was as beams of moonlight in the night when the stars were young.

Mentally, he kicked himself for waxing poetic. What did he know of young stars? He had only seen five thousand years himself – hardly enough time to be able to put a measure of age to the stars. He needed to focus his mind on his current situation.

The elleth who lay stretched out on her side beside him extended her hand to brush his hair away from his eyes and softly caress the side of his face from eyebrow to chin. She smiled at him and it was like the stars touching the deepest part of the sky at the darkest part of the night. He continued to stare, enchanted by her face.

So much for assessing his situation! Annoyance welled within him. He tried to rise but quickly discovered he lacked the strength to even move his arms, let alone roll over or sit up.

“You have slept for a long time. We feared you would die.” Her melodic voice lilted in heavily accented Galadhric. “Are you in pain?”

He struggled to move his lips to answer her, now angry that even something as simple as speech was so difficult. “I feel nothing,” he croaked in the same tongue.

He cleared his throat and considered the messages his body was sending his foggy mind. Slowly, he realized his back and left arm were both throbbing viciously. “My left arm and my back hurt,” he responded in a slightly stronger voice.

She sat up and laid her hands on his arm and back, singing a short gentle song of healing and wholeness. Comforting warmth flowed into him, quelling his anger, easing his pain. When the song ceased, she spoke again.

“It is dangerous to be on the ground out in the open where we found you. We brought you to our dwelling in the forest. You are most fortunate to have survived your wounds,” she observed, awe and admiration clearly evident in her voice. “What is your name and whom do you serve?”

Unable to tear his eyes from her face, he cleared his throat again and softly replied, “I serve Lord Celeborn. My name is Haldir. I am the captain of his march wardens.”

Curiosity filled her face as she inclined her head to him in respect. “I am honored to meet you, Haldir. I am Gilwen daughter of Damrod. I beg your forgiveness for you must be someone of great importance, but I have never heard tell of you or your lord. We are isolated here and only have occasional contact with other settlements. What kindred are you? From whence are you come? Is it a large settlement?”

Now Haldir was the one who was curious! She had never heard of Lord Celeborn? Celeborn had dwelt in Middle-earth since before the sun and moon. Every elf Haldir had ever known had at least heard tell of Celeborn, former Prince of Doriath and current Lord of Lothlórien. An isolated settlement indeed!

 “I am of the Galadhrim, from Lothlórien,” he patiently replied. “What of you? How many are in this settlement?”

“We number eighty-three here now that some of our hunters have returned and brought you.” Tears slipped down her cheeks and she turned away to wipe them on the sleeve of her grey dress, all the while keeping her healing hands in place on his body. Anguish filled her face as she met his gaze once again. “Sometimes our people go hunting and do not return. Two of my adar’s brothers never returned. My brother says they were killed,” she sniffed bitterly.

Suddenly images of the fateful battle of Helm’s Deep flashed through Haldir’s mind – the forced march to arrive in time to aid the men of Rohan, his troops lining the walls awaiting the command to fire, the bloody engagement as the orcs and uruk-hai came over the walls, his own injuries and the fall of his brothers. He closed his eyes as he felt his own hot tears trail down his cheeks before he could reign in the intense emotions that suddenly assailed him. When he had command of his feelings again, he asked in a strangled voice, “What of the two ellyn who were lying near me? They were my brothers.”

She shook her head sympathetically. “We found a few others dressed as you were and similar to you in appearance. They, too, were gravely wounded. They lie nearby in the care of my kin and neighbors.”

He sighed in hopeful relief, his body jerking slightly with the pain the movement caused.

“What of the rest of my ellyn?” He asked suddenly.

“What?” She looked confused. “Of what or whom do you speak?”

“The ellyn under my command, the ones I led into battle… Where are they?” he demanded impatiently. “There were two hundred of them. Where are they?”

Eying him warily, she replied, “There were only six whom we found and brought here, including you.”

His mind reeled with confusion then started to go numb again. Struggling with his thoughts, he snapped angrily, “How could that be possible?  There was a battle at the fortress of Helm’s Deep. There were hundreds of men and elves, as well as thousands of the enemy. How could you possibly have missed them?”

She looked at him quizzically, her voice laced with concern. “Perhaps your injuries still trouble you such that they cloud your thoughts? What…what is this …this fortress? What is fortress? What are men? Our people sometimes fight horrible creatures, but we move often and live in the trees to stay away from them. No horrible creatures were near when we found you. Obviously, they did you this grievous injury, but apparently they believed you dead or left you to die. We have seen it before, and their black blood was on your clothes. When we found you, Haldir, you were near the forest’s edge, badly injured with only five companions.”

His jaw dropped at her words as he stared in shock. Only five? One does not simply “lose” a fortress and thousands of bodies! Lothlórien is the nearest elven settlement to Helm’s Deep. How could she not know what men are? Nor what a fortress is? She must have misunderstood him.

He squeezed his eyes shut, trying to crush the pounding headache he had suddenly developed. The heat from her hands on his wounds was relaxing his body to the point that he felt consciousness slipping, yet he struggled desperately to maintain his grasp on the present. He needed to understand what had happened!

“How many days have I been here?” He wearily forced out the words.

She looked sad as she worriedly shook her head. “I do not understand what you mean by that.”

What was wrong with this elleth?! Perhaps her brains were addled. Clinging to his ire, he growled, “How can you not understand that? It is a very simple question! How many days ago did you find me? How many days have I been here?”

She sighed as if seeking patience. “The question perhaps might be very simple if I understood the meaning of one word you keep using.” She looked at him questioningly. “What is a day?”

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

“How can you not know what a day is?” Haldir demanded, his annoyance reaching new heights in spite of his weariness.

Sighing in exasperation, the elleth shook her head, pursing her lips. “I am sorry that I do not understand some of these words you use. Perhaps your folk have different names for things than do we. I have seen this before when we have met others who were long sundered from us.”

Haldir’s head ached fiercely. Gritting his teeth, he raised his head as much as he could, given his current physical condition, and explained very slowly as if speaking to a small child. “A day is the time which passes measured from when Anor rises in the east to when it rises in the east again.”

“Ahhh, I understand now,” she replied clearly relieved. “So, which star do you call Anor?”

Haldir let his head drop back onto his pillow and closed his eyes trying very hard to rein in his anger and frustration at this obviously unintelligent elleth whose lovely appearance and ability as a healer appeared to be her only redeeming qualities if this conversation were anything upon which to judge her.

“No star is called Anor!” He exclaimed

“Very well…” she drew out the words in her reply, her tone of voice betraying her obviously similar assessment of Haldir’s intellect. “So, what is an anor?”

Taking a deep breath and slowly letting it out again, Haldir opened his eyes and grumbled, “Anor is that big yellow light in the sky which is so bright that the stars are obscured.”

“Hmmm…I cannot think of any stars which cast so much light that they obscure other stars and certainly not any yellow stars which are so bright.”

“ANOR IS NOT A STAR!”

“Is anor a cloud or perhaps the flash of light which accompanies a storm?”

“NO! Are you insane? Have you completely taken leave of your senses?”

She raised her hands in an open helpless gesture, but then her face lit up and she moved her hands to his head, making a very thorough examination. “Perhaps you have a head injury of which I was previously unaware? Do you feel any pain when I touch your head here? Or perhaps here?”

“Oh, my head certainly pains me,” Haldir responded snidely.

“So your delirium is to be explained by a head injury then. I just do not see the place where you received the blow. When my adar returns from the hunt, I will ask him to look at you. Perhaps he can determine where your injury lies so I may better judge how to treat you. Until then, I think it would be best if you rested.”

Haldir swore vilely under his breath as she placed her hands on his back once again.

“Now that was rude and most uncalled for!” She exclaimed angrily.

Suddenly she started singing again, putting such force behind the healing words that Haldir fell asleep immediately, completely against his will.

***********

When Haldir woke again, it was to the sound of rain. Comforted by the gentle patter, he opened his eyes and saw the lilting dance of droplets on leaves. It was night time and he was home!

Delighted, he snuggled further into the furs on which he slept, reaching out with his fae to his beloved trees of home.

Something was very wrong. The trees recognized his kind, but not him. He had dwelt among them for five thousand years. How could they not know him?

He raised his head and looked around more carefully from where he lay on his stomach on the talan floor. From what he could see, the shape of the talan was correct. The sounds of the rain were correct. He rested his head on the pillow again as he reached out with his fae once more, then recoiled in shock.

Somehow the feel of, well of everything was wrong!

There was no sense of the Lady Galadriel’s power here, yet the air and the trees about him were filled with vibrant life. He cast about in his memory for something to compare it to. The wood did not feel like it did when King Amroth or even King Amdir ruled Lothlórien. Yet everything felt young and fresh. How could this be?

With some effort, he rolled over onto his back, then closed his eyes gasping at the newly awakened pain between his shoulders. Once he caught his breath, he opened his eyes and looked about again from this new perspective.

Someone had changed the ceiling. He liked the ceilings of the telain in Caras Galadhon. Why would someone want to use a ceiling like this one?

After Noldorin refugees from Eregion joined with the people of Lórien, they replaced the roofing used on telain with a more efficient design providing better shielding against the elements yet allowing for light and airflow. This ceiling which stared back at him now appeared to be a crude imitation of the oldest style he had ever seen.

There were no walls, just portable wind screens for privacy and for blocking the wind. There was nothing unusual about this. Only in Caras Galadhon did the Galadhrim build permanent walls on telain.

He noticed near the bole of the tree neat stacks of furs, plates, bowls, cups, pitchers, bows, quivers of arrows, some larger items wrapped in cloth, and four wooden chests like one might keep clothing in. Despite the lack of tables and chairs and even framed beds, everything about him was utilitarian. The opening to the ladder down to the ground must be on the other side of the bole from him for he did not see it.

So maybe this was not a settlement in Lórien with which he was familiar, but at least the people had the sense to love and respect the trees and dwell closely among them. This thought comforted him greatly, though he did not know why.

Raising his left arm as much as he could bear, he examined the bandage and flexed his fingers. Moving them did not hurt much though he could not yet completely straighten his arm without pain. At least he was healing. His back still hurt though.

Carefully rolling onto his right side, the pain in his back eased up. Haldir lay there for a time watching the rain drip on the leaves. Just as he started to doze off, he heard many voices approaching the tree from below. There was naught he could do but lie there, so he waited patiently as many voices drifted away and others grew louder. He heard the creaking of ropes as what he guessed were five people climbed up the ladder and entered his talan.

His guess proved correct as the elleth he remembered from before appeared, accompanied by three ellyn and another elleth – all with the silver hair and blue eyes of the Galadhrim.

“Greetings, friend Haldir,” one of the ellyn called as he bowed deeply along with the other two ellyn, then knelt beside Haldir. “I am Damrod Saelonion. Gilwen who has been tending you is my daughter. This is my adar Saelon. He is the chieftain of our settlement. This,” he gestured to the tallest of the three ellyn, “is my son Brethil.” Damrod briefly clasped hands with the other elleth, exchanging a loving glance with her. “And this is my wife Gwilwileth.”

Haldir inclined his head as best he could from where he lay. “Greetings to you,” he replied. “And thank you for your hospitality and for your aide.”

“You are most welcome. It is an honor to show hospitality to a friend or kinsman in need. Gilwen said you are of the Galadhrim as well and from a settlement called…Lothlórien?” Damrod said looking at Gilwen who nodded her approval.

“Yes,” Haldir answered, a feeling of concern creeping up his spine.

“Where is Lothlórien?” Lord Saelon asked.

“You…you are serious? You truly do not know?” Haldir was mortified.

The five Galadhrim shook their heads at him, their expressions blank.

The feeling of concern constricted Haldir’s chest. Choosing his words carefully, he answered, “Lothlórien lies on either side of the River Celebrant, extending eastward to the Anduin and westward almost to the foot of the Hithaeglir.”

“Ah, yes! We left those lands some time ago. It is good to hear that more of our kin have come to join us here,” Saelon replied joyfully. Grasping Haldir’s shoulder much as a comrade or an equal, he continued.

“I was bid to tell you that Angaril, Ferevellon, Fereveldir, Rúmil, and Orophin are recovering well from their injuries, though none are yet able to move about easily enough to visit with you. They all awoke in the last while and I had the opportunity to speak to each of them briefly.”

Haldir sighed heavily, offering a silent but deeply heartfelt prayer of gratitude to the Belain at the news that his brothers were with him and safe. He was equally relieved at the news of the survival of the twin sons of his lieutenant Thrandronen who had kept the watch in Lórien for him while he led troops in battle to Helm’s Deep. Angaril was a close friend of Haldir and his brothers and a highly skilled blacksmith when the need for warriors was not dire. His survival was a great blessing to Lórien and a great comfort to Haldir.

Saelon paused, smiling at Haldir’s reaction to the news.

“Your brothers – I can clearly see the family resemblance – and the other three all send their greetings and their relief at hearing that their…their captain is well. Are you their chieftain or perhaps a lord? Is that what captain means?”

Haldir stared at Lord Saelon in surprise turning to angry dismay. Surely he was not having this conversation! Had these folk no respect for the injured? He had nearly died and yet they were jesting with him when he needed facts and…and answers and to heal and news of the battle and…and most of all, he just wanted to go home!

Saelon withdrew his hand, sitting back, his expression guarded and serious. “I have offended you. Please forgive me. Long have we been isolated from those of our folk who stayed behind in the trees by the Anduin. Little news travels to us here. Those families tending your comrades in their homes also have encountered words we did not recognize. I ask your patience, friend – Captain Haldir, as we strive to discover and overcome the differences which seek to obscure our similarities. And please, so that I may better understand and accord you the proper respect due your station, tell me what captain is.”

The apology of this obviously backward ellon seemed sincere enough that Haldir let go of some of his ire as he explained. “Captain is the highest rank accorded one who leads warriors into battle. The position is earned and is bestowed by one’s lord. It is a position of authority and respect and great responsibility.”

The group of elves looked at each other hesitantly curious, then Saelon ventured meekly, “Warriors?”

Haldir sighed wearily, giving as simple of an explanation as he could. “People who are specially trained in fighting. Their job is to protect and defend their homes at all times under orders from their lord.”

“Ahhhh! Now I understand! Yes, yes I could see where a settlement might have need of –” Saelon paused, obviously straining to recall the proper word, “warriors. That is grave news indeed that the lands we left are now so unsafe that ellyn who fight and defend all the time are needed there. Here all of our ellyn and ellith defend our settlement at need. We are all skilled with the bow. It was dangerous where we lived before, so we crossed the mountains and came here as you did. There is still some danger here as well, but not as much as we encountered before.”

Regarding the ellon shrewdly, Haldir noted no deceit or malice in Saelon’s eyes. Yet how could anyone have so much difficulty with such simple words? And to which mountains was he referring? The Misty Mountains? To his knowledge there were no Galadhrim living across the mountains outside of Imladris, Mirkwood, and Lórien. Exactly where had these people taken him? And how? And why?

“Tell me, Captain Haldir,” now it was Saelon’s turn to regard shrewdly. “Why did you leave Lothlórien? Was it ruined by creatures of the greater darkness? Did all of the folk of your settlement decide to make the journey across the mountains and you were the only survivors? What happened to your people?”

“What?!” Haldir replied irritated and not a little offended. “I told you, well I told her,” he gestured to Gilwen. “I led two hundred warriors from Lothlórien into battle at Helm’s Deep. Lothlórien is fine and my people are safe. We marched to lend aid to others who were in need. I have no idea how I came to be here nor where the rest of my ellyn are. But I demand –”

“Captain!” Damrod interrupted, holding up a stern hand, silencing Haldir. “You are in no position to demand anything. You are a guest in my home. Now, I see no deceit in your eyes nor in your heart, but I do not believe all that you have said. You were not provisioned for a journey of as many turns of the stars as it takes to travel from Anduin to here. There is little to no news which ever travels between our kindred there and here. The way is long and arduous and fraught with peril which is why so many of our folk stayed behind beside the Anduin as you should well know.”

Chagrined, Haldir bit back retorts welling up within him. “I swear I have told you the truth about myself. I apologize for my anger and impatience. I am very frustrated and in pain. Perhaps I will understand you better if you tell me at least where I am now.”

Saelon nodded courteously in acknowledgement of the apology and replied. “You are many leagues from the Anduin across the mountains in Celos Galen.”

“I have never heard of Celos Galen. What country or land is it in?” Haldir asked wearily.

The group looked at each other warily in great concern and alarm as Saelon the chieftain calmly replied, “Why it is in Beleriand of course.”

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Fae – spirit

Telain – plural of talan

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Chapter 3

“Beleriand,” Haldir echoed back to the chieftain of the settlement.

“Beleriand?” Haldir asked again after a few moments pause for he obviously had misheard the ellon.

“Beleriand,” Lord Saelon repeated matter-of-factly and the other four elves with him nodded in sage affirmation.

Haldir closed his eyes. Sweet Eru, he screamed in his mind. Why do these folk torment me so? Have they no care for the weariness and injuries of others? Why do they pretend not to know such simple things and yet taunt me with the name of a place long gone, sunken beneath the sea?

Then another possibility occurred to him.

Gently probing his scalp with his fingers, Haldir worriedly asked, “Is this a test of my memory? Did I have a head injury and you are just making certain that I can remember my past?”

“Gilwen and I both examined your head for possible injury and found nothing untoward,” Damrod replied, concern etched deeply in his brow.

Haldir slid his left hand over his face, weariness sapping his strength as he struggled to make sense of what he was hearing.

A hand glided down Haldir’s arm, pulling his hand away from his face. He looked over to see Gilwen gently straightening his injured arm a bit and taking his hand in hers.

“Haldir, I apologize for our upsetting you so,” she said. “I know not what we have said that troubles you so much, but please know that you are safe here, and we will continue to care for you and your brothers and companions. You obviously need more rest. I will fetch you some food and water.”

She gave his hand a slight squeeze, then releasing it, arose and walked away. He followed her with his eyes until Saelon spoke and Haldir was forced to lock gazes with the chieftain once again as courtesy dictated.

“Haldir, our conversations with your brothers and friends went similarly to this discussion with you. They used strange words and shared in your odd difficulties in understanding some of what we said. Considering you all experienced such grave wounds, we are forced to wonder if, and indeed strongly suspect, that you were poisoned by your attackers. You must be a very very strong ellyn to have survived this for most whom we have encountered who received poisoned wounds soon died after great pain and struggle.” Saelon looked at those around him and they nodded in agreement with him.

Laying a compassionate hand on Haldir’s shoulder, Damrod spoke reassuringly, “Friend Haldir, you are welcome to stay in my home until such a time as you are able to rejoin your kin. My family will continue to tend to your needs while you regain your strength. We will take our leave of you now. Please rest. We will speak again.”

“Thank you,” Haldir replied simply, unsure of what else to say.

Damrod gestured to his wife and son and together they rose along with Saelon and walked to the other side of the talan.

“Granddaughter,” Haldir heard Saelon address Gilwen. “Watch over him carefully. The poison obviously has affected his mind. I do not know when he will fully recover his wits – if he ever will. Be patient with him and his questions and tell me all that he says. When the ellyn depart on the hunt again, I will ask them to consult with those of the next settlement. Perhaps they will know how to help these hapless ellyn.”

“Yes, daeradar,” she replied.

Haldir heard the sounds of food preparation and beverages being poured as he lay there alone. He had been poisoned?! He softly swore aloud to himself. Poisoned! If this were so and the others suffered similarly, then…then what fate met his other warriors in the battle? So many were injured… He had seen so many fall…

Dear Eru, what if he and the other five were the only elves who were left? Out of two hundred, what if only six had survived?

He squeezed his eyes shut trying to banish the sting of tears, which still somehow escaped. Covering his face with his hands, he rolled toward the bole of the tree, feeling he somehow deserved the intense physical pain such a simple action brought. Silently he wept for the loss of so many friends and comrades, the gentle patter of the rain no longer bringing him comfort.

***********

Sometime later, he became aware of someone stroking his hair. Carefully, he rolled over onto his back and then onto his uninjured side with the help of Gilwen’s strong hands. Tenderly, she wiped his face with a cool damp cloth. He vaguely registered the presence of her adar nearby watching him intently, but he could not find it within himself to care. Unable to find his voice amidst the tears still falling unabashedly, he accepted the drink she offered him and ate some broth and bread with her assistance.

After the meal, Gilwen and her adar bathed Haldir and helped him see to his needs, then laid him back down again on the furs to rest. Softly speaking his gratitude, Haldir closed his eyes, but his helpers did not leave him.

With a long-suffering sigh, he opened his eyes and met their concerned ones.

“Haldir,” Damrod asked quietly, “for whom or what do you mourn, my friend?”

“For the ellyn under my command who did not return with me,” he replied dejectedly as his tears resumed. Briefly he tried to roll away, but he lacked the strength to manage the pain of so much movement, so he returned to the comfort of lying on his right side.

“It is best to go ahead and face it,” Damrod advised, his voice full of compassion. “Was there aught you could have done for any of those who are no longer with you?”

“I could have done no more for them than I did,” Haldir whispered. “I taught them all that I knew, trained them for many ennin in fact. I would have trusted any one of them with my life. We were so vastly out-numbered and there just…I just…I tried…I fought and I tried…But there was naught I could do. The enemy just kept coming and coming. They breached our defenses. So many of my warriors fell... I saw so many of them fall…And the enemy just kept coming…” Haldir’s voice broke and he wept anew.

Damrod gently gripped Haldir’s shoulder, mindful of his injuries. “I admire you, Captain Haldir, for the obvious love you bear for those whose lives were trusted in your care. I have spoken with the other survivors often during their wakeful times – they have had many more of those than you have so far – and they all told of their respect and admiration for you their captain. I will ask my adar and chieftain to command the songs of mourning for your folk, for are we not all Galadhrim? Does that not make those who were lost our folk as well? You and your comrades are in no condition to sing the songs just now. We will see that those you lost are honored and mourned properly for their great deeds.”

Haldir looked on Damrod, new respect for the frustrating ellon welling in his heart. Struggling as best he could, the captain painfully contorted himself enough to give a proper salute in deepest gratitude. Damrod stared at him bemused then copied the movements as if he had never seen them before, returning a much more fluid and graceful salute to the wounded Haldir.

“Thank you,” Haldir choked.

Damrod nodded, giving a small smile in response, then arose and departed the talan.

A short time later, with the night dark sky still weeping in accompaniment, many voices rose up in song. Age-old laments echoed and dripped from all around. Lilting along with the rest of the Galadhrim of Celos Galen, Gilwen laid down beside Haldir and held him as he mourned voicelessly. He wept, shuddering and trembling many times in her arms before finding his solace and sleep, his head resting on her breast.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxx

Ennin – Sindarin for yéni,  a period of 144 years.

“They told us our wounds were poisoned as well,” Rúmil replied as he repositioned himself yet again, still favoring his right leg and bandaged right arm.

Haldir looked around as his other brother and comrades nodded in agreement.

“Captain,” Angaril added, “I have been poisoned by orcs six times before, and never did I or anyone else I know suffer as we have now. Why is this time different? Is the poison different? Or is it that our wounds were far more grievous than any others we have received before?”

Shaking his head, Haldir shrugged carefully. “You know as much as I do about this.”

“Did they speak of Beleriand to any of you?” Angaril asked gently rubbing his bandaged head in frustration.

“Careful or you will tear that wound open again,” Ferevellon warned, swatting Angaril’s hand away. “I am surprised they let you come up here after you fell and tore it up so badly the other day or night or…recently.” He paused a moment, his face twisted in confusion. “Have any of you noticed that it is never day when you wake up? I mean…well…yes, I mean it is never day time. I have not seen Anor since I awoke here. Have I completely missed the daylight every single day? I am so baffled by this. I even tried to stay up as long as I could and managed to be awake for three meals in a row without falling asleep and yet...”

“I am so relieved to hear you say that,” Orophin sighed. “I thought I had my days and nights confused and kept sleeping during the day and remaining awake all night.”

The others echoed Orophin’s sentiments then paused looking at each other in confusion.

“The stars turn in the sky and I have seen the same stars pass and return and yet…” Rúmil said.”And, yes, to answer your question, Angaril, they did speak of Beleriand as if it were still here and not under the waves. In fact, every member of my…my host family checked me for a head injury when I told them that Beleriand had been destroyed, sunken beneath the waves by the Powers from Valinor when Morgoth was defeated in the War of Wrath.” Looking thoughtful a moment, he added, “Oddly enough, they…even their chieftain …had never heard of Morgoth nor the War of Wrath nor did they know what war was and they looked scared when I spoke of the Belain. What is going on here?”

After each in turn related similar experiences, they sat long in silence, troubled looks marring their faces. Suddenly Orophin spoke startling all of them.

“Haldir, do you remember hearing Lord Celeborn tell our daeradar and daeradar’s daeradar about the first warriors whom he had met?”

Haldir stared blankly at his brother.

“Oh, of course you do, Haldir! It was when you had – ” Orophin stopped abruptly, his face flushing in embarrassment. “Oh, I guess you would not remember for Lord Celeborn said it just after you marched away on your first patrol.” Clearing his throat unnecessarily, Orophin continued for his now amused expectant audience.

“Lord Celeborn told us about courageous and mighty warriors he knew in the early times of Doriath in the Night before nights. They carried great long bows unlike any weapon ever before seen in Doriath and bore deadly swords. They came from a settlement called Celos Galen. Lord Celeborn also said that by the time that Lord Denethor Lenwion came to Thingol’s aid in battle, Celos Galen was no more and no other settlement had borne the name of Celos Galen since.”

Crossing his arms gingerly (yet convincingly) and fixing his brother with his best annoyed captain stare, Haldir asked, “Exactly what are you suggesting, Orophin?”

Orophin chewed his lip for a moment, then met his brother’s steady gaze. “I think I am suggesting that we should not be in Celos Galen because no place by that name has existed since before Beleriand sank beneath the waves. Think about it, Haldir. You have travelled all over Middle-earth by the command of the Lord and Lady for the gathering of news – even as far away as Mordor when we fought with the Last Alliance. We have met elves from every major settlement in Middle-earth many times. Do you not think that at least once we would have heard tell of a settlement by the name of Celos Galen, especially if it were populated by Galadhrim and had contact with numerous other settlements of Galadhrim, however small those settlements may be? And, more importantly, do you not think that they would have heard of Lothlórien? In fact, when I asked, these folk here had never even heard of Lórien across the sea either!”

Haldir glared at his brother for a time then looked away, uncrossing his arms and reaching for the cup of water before him. Draining the cup, he held it loosely in his long slender fingers, then turned to stare out into the ever-present night. A gentle rain began to fall, the soft patter bringing something else to mind.

“Do any of you remember the storm at Helm’s Deep?” Haldir asked after a time, his voice taking an almost wistful tone. “The sky had been so very full of stars and suddenly a storm came up as if Sauron himself had conjured it to hinder us in battle. Many of those around me, including those who had fought for five or six thousand years, even said as much – that Sauron had conjured the storm like he had so many times at the beginning of battles during the Last Alliance.”

“My adar and five of his edair before him told us tales of the storms of Sauron making strange things happen during the battles in Mordor,” Fereveldir whispered darkly. “Of a sudden, orcs or goblins would appear where none had stood before or elves would see things that were not real as if in a fog or men would suddenly sink into stinking marshes where before they had stood on solid ground. And all of it would happen at a sudden stroke of lightning. I remember the edair said they came to fear the storms more then they dreaded any fell stroke in battle. They also said that one such storm sprang up during the fateful charge that caused the deaths of King Amdir and King Oropher. King Gil-Galad blamed the kings for their deaths for their refusal to listen to him, but our kings’ warriors blamed the storm.”

Haldir’s brothers and Angaril shuddered, obviously wrestling with memories of terrible things, but Haldir closed his eyes shaking his head to clear it. Casting his hard gaze on those around him, they all snapped to. “I saw the Ring the hobbit carried. I felt its evil presence, yet I would have thought that even with the Ring found, it still should have been too far away for Sauron to have conjured that storm. But Sauruman…The Lady did warn me that Sauruman has turned to the darkness and lusts after the Ring himself. He bred orcs with goblin men, creating an enemy which is pretty damn difficult to kill. What other power does a wizard such as he command? Do any of us know? Was he himself not a Maia once?”

Gingerly fingering the bandage over his head wound, Angaril stated, his voice strikingly calm for one proposing such impossible things as truth, “I do not believe that we were poisoned. Our memories are too vivid and too sharply clear. I think that these kind, simple folk who have nurtured and cared for us are missing so many of our words because they simply have never seen warriors or war or the things for making war or the need for such has not yet occurred – for them. I think that we ourselves have not seen Anor because it is not yet here for us to see. My friends, if I have heard aright all that has been said, I believe we really are in Beleriand before the rising of Anor and Ithil. And given the circumstances of our arrival, I know of no way for us to ever go home.”

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Edair – fathers

Adar - father

Anor – the sun

Ithil – the moon

Belain – the Valar

Denethor Lenwion – the Lord of Ossiriand in East Beleriand

The likelihood that they were indeed trapped in the distant past hung like a shroud over each of the hapless survivors of the Battle of Helm’s Deep. Each time they fell asleep, it was with the hope that they would awaken to a bright sunny day in Lórien. However, that desperately desired morning never came. Though their physical strength returned in time, Haldir and his brothers and friends struggled to find healing for their fae.

After each meal, Gilwen accompanied Haldir on a walk through the settlement. Sometimes she led him along the rope bridges suspended between trees which joined the different telain while other times she introduced him to different parts of the forest nearby. However, the constant darkness wore at him. At the midpoint between each meal, she would lead him to a place where he and his warriors could meet and talk amongst themselves, but even this only seemed to remind them of what they had lost.

At one such meeting, the chieftain and the host families joined them rather unexpectedly.

“My friends,” Chieftain Saelon greeted the small group with the salute he had learned from Haldir as the host families assimilated themselves amongst Haldir and his warriors. “I have been watching you for many turns of the stars. It heals my heart to see each of you grow in health. Every ellon added unto the settlement makes our people that much stronger.” He smiled his pride at the group gathered there.

Haldir and his retinue carefully returned wary smiles in response. The chieftain never met with them as a group – preferring to meet with them individually among meals with their host families.

“We have been watching you in your recovery and I have spoken with each of you and your host families many times now. It has not escaped our notice that the color which had come to your faces begins to fade. The daughters who watch over you in your sleep say your dreams remain troubled. They say that you awake in sorrow no matter how peaceful your rest. They also say that no matter what wonders they show you or how fondly the trees look upon you, you still yearn for what you have left behind.”

Haldir heard his fellows’ guilty sighs as they each looked away at the chieftain’s words. Anger flared, threatening his own composure at the chieftain’s admission that their every move was watched – even their sleep! However, even he could not meet the chieftain’s eyes, for despair at being stranded so long and far from home ate away at him as well. Alas for fair Lórien which he loved!

Gilwen, who had seated herself on the ground beside him, quietly took his hand into hers and gave it a reassuring squeeze. He squeezed her hand briefly in return, but did not entirely disengage his fingers from hers, finding her presence oddly comforting.

“It is clear to me that you need some purpose, something for which to strive in our community,” Lord Saelon continued, the tone of his voice drawing the eyes of all present to his face. “A time of hunting draws nigh for your host families. I invite each of you to join the ellyn of your families in their turn at the hunt. I deem you are ellyn of great spirit and I believe that the thrill of the chase may be what you need to draw your breath more deeply.”

The thought of going hunting did not inspire Haldir and, if he correctly interpreted the unenthusiastic glares of his slump-shouldered comrades, they remained uninspired as well.

“Besides,” the chieftain added with a glint of challenge in his soft yet steely gaze, “We have never met warriors before we met you and we would know if spending many ennin in training to protect others really does make an ellon a better hunter.”

Almost as one, the warriors met Haldir’s eyes. Pride may have been a bane of the Noldor, but it was one shared by the Galadhrim as well. Drawing themselves up a bit straighter, Haldir received their barely perceptible nods then regarded the chieftain again, silently cursing his own pride and the conniving ellon’s wisdom as he spoke. “If you would allow us some time for target practice to regain our bow arms, then we will certainly join you in the hunt.”

***********

Haldir cursed and swore as he moved through the dense foliage, snagging his hair on yet another branch. When had he become so clumsy among the trees? It was bad enough that the practice sessions had proven just how weak he and his comrades-in-arms had grown from idleness. Their wounds had been quite severe, but still they all unerringly should have hit the center of the mark on the target every time – especially considering how small the bows were that these Galadhrim had given them to use. These bows had none of the power or force of the bows to which Haldir’s warriors were used. The sword play had been disgraceful as well (at least those weapons had survived the journey from Helm’s Deep) with each of them barely able to swing their weapon with any level of finesse or proficiency. He did not even want to think about how badly they had done with the spear throwing.

Captain Haldir never would have tolerated such sloppiness from any ellon under his command in Lórien – and yet here they were, supposedly Lórien’s finest, but performing as mere shadows of their former selves. Angaril even suggested (only half in jest) that they all commit suicide to keep themselves from having to die of disgrace on the hunt.

Even wearing warrior braids earned them criticism.

“Why not wear your hair pulled back away from your face and bound in a single braid like the rest of us?” Gilwen’s brother Brethil had asked during one of the practice sessions. “It is far more efficient than...” he cautiously examined one of the braids which held Haldir’s hair away from his eyes. “It is more efficient than this…this ornamentation. Perhaps putting more time into practicing with the bow and spear and less into fastening your hair would make you better fighters.”

“We earned these braids in combat!” Ferevellon growled. “They are a sign of accomplishment.”

“Is that so?” one of the ellyn had asked mockingly. “A sign of how poorly you can defend yourselves more like it!”

“Perhaps their settlement uses the braids to identify the ellyn who the ellith should avoid if they desire mighty sons,” one daernaneth with many generations of children had observed.

XXXXXXXXXXX

“For what it is worth, I like the braids,” Gilwen told Haldir after that particularly disastrous practice session. “They do a better job of keeping stray hair away from the eyes than a single braid down the back.”

Carefully, she helped him wash the still tender scar on his back then proceeded to apply a salve to the spectacular new bruises blossoming across his torso and forehead.

When she finished tending him, she sat on the floor across from him, taking his hands in hers. “Haldir, please forgive my people for what they say. You still are very much strangers to us. Who can say how long it will take you to completely heal or if you ever will fully regain what you once had? My people seem to have forgotten that you have endured and overcome so much by simply surviving your injuries let alone the poison.”

When he did not move or respond, she slid closer, drawing Haldir into a comforting embrace. “You and your brothers and friends have my admiration and that of the other ellith who have tended you all since your arrival here. We at least are willing to give you all of the time you need to heal and adjust to living in a strange new place.”

Haldir silently rested his head on her shoulder, too ashamed to even reply.

***********

In all ways, the ellyn of Celos Galen were suitably unimpressed and quite frankly, Haldir could not blame them. To add to the humiliation, he had overheard the edair of their host families talking about how wasteful it was for ellyn to train solely as protectors when gatherers and craftsmen were better with simple bows and spears.

Even worse was when one of the ellith commented to her friends that they must have needed to train all the time because they ‘had such terrible aim that they would have starved as hunters. Lórien was probably glad to be rid of such burdens to the village even if they were handsome ellyn.’

The Lórien ellyn worked themselves as never before trying to regain their skills, but there simply had not been enough time before the hunt. Now they were struggling clumsily with weakened muscles and straining bodies just to keep up with the other ellyn who moved like wraiths through the night-dark trees and underbrush.

Even after three turns of the stars, Haldir and his warriors had nothing to show for their struggles while the other ellyn carried enough meat to feed the village for a good while.

“I do not hold you ellyn at fault,” Damrod reassured them as they picked their way through some underbrush. They were trailing behind the other hunters. “Travelling through the trees and using the bow and spear require great physical strength and prowess. And those ridiculous long knives – I mean…swords – that you carry? They are too long and cumbersome for moving with stealth and speed. It may be that in Lórien the need for folk of your…ah…skills…is…well…different from the needs of our village, however…” He paused a moment shaking his head in obvious disappointment. “I will speak with some of the craftsmen upon your return and see if we can find tasks more suited to your abilities. It may well be that the hunt is not for you.”

The six ellyn of Lórien scowled, their faces flushed with shame at these sentiments which they had heard often enough put far less diplomatically throughout the hunt. The snickers from the others on the hunt who overheard this latest comment did not help matters either.

“No matter how politely put, he is saying we are pretty damn useless,” Fereveldir muttered in Sindarin so the ellyn of Celos Galen would not understand.

“It is not fair that they judge us thusly,” Ferevellon added, glaring mutinously at the adar of his host family making his way ahead of them.

“Silence,” Haldir quietly commanded. “I agree it is not fair, but how should they judge us when they have seen naught but this hunt? Now stop complaining for it makes us appear even weaker than we already seem.”

Switching to the language of the Galadhrim, Haldir wearily conceded for all to hear, “I readily admit that we clearly are not at our best right now. I think that our injuries and the poisoning affected us more deeply than we realized. However, it is our hope that you will...”

Haldir stopped suddenly, his hand instinctively going for his sword. A glance to either side told him that his suddenly still Lórien comrades had sensed it, too: a brush against the fae of something evil even such as they had felt countless times while patrolling the borders near Moria.

They were not alone.

Damrod patiently made a show of stopping though the other ellyn continued on, shaking their heads in disapproval and some laughing at the silently drawn swords and wary stances Haldir and his men had assumed.

“Haldir,” Damrod called in mild exasperation. “What…”

“Hsst!” Haldir warned quietly. “Up in the trees…”

Damrod looked around perplexed. “I see nothing. What are you so....”

But Haldir sternly waved a cautioning hand, hissing. “Be silent! They pass over our heads even now.”

The trees cried out as black shapes moved swift as shadows through the branches. Familiar chills ran down Haldir’s spine while he watched.

As soon as the creatures moved away, Rúmil murmured, “I counted ten of them.”

“Damn, they were big!” Orophin quietly exclaimed.

In worried wonder, Damrod whispered, “I never even heard them coming. What are they? How did you know?”

“It is our job to know,” Angaril replied as if that were explanation enough. “The scent of fresh blood must have drawn them.”

“But they ignored us…,” Ferevellon said gesturing to Damrod’s kill.

Nearby, screams rent the air.

“In favor of greater prey,” his twin finished, nodding in the direction of the screaming hunters.

Leaving a stunned Damrod behind, Haldir and his warriors charged ahead, the lust of battle surging through them, giving them strength. Reflex took over as many ennin of training and the experience of many battles took charge of their bodies. Under a thickness of trees, hideous black hairy creatures with many legs attacked the other hunters. Sharp pointed legs tore elven flesh while other monsters sucked blood from the dead animals. The hunters never had the chance to draw their bows and only the swiftest managed to raise a spear in hapless defense.

Swift and deadly, the march wardens engaged the giant spiders. Swords slashed as the wardens danced around the claws, hacking limbs and stabbing glowing eyes. The twins dove and each rolled under a spider, slashing upward into the soft unprotected bellies before rolling away again, barely escaping the spray of black blood. In a short amount of time, the spiders all lay dead in crumpled heaps, while the other hunters, many of which were wounded, stared in amazement.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Edair-fathers

Fae-spirit(s)

Ennin- Sindarin form of yéni - a period of 144 years

Newly bathed and dressed in fresh clothes, Haldir and his warriors assembled before the chieftain much the same way they had lined up for review before Lord Celeborn on the morning of their fateful departure for Helm’s Deep. A throng of villagers pressed closely, cheering from the moment that the warriors came down among them from the trees until Chieftain Saelon raised his arms, calling for silence.

Each warrior held his head high with shoulders squared and eyes glowing with fierce pride. Lord Saelon paced before the six, looking each one up and down. Finally he stopped before Haldir and saluted him.

“I understand from my son Damrod that the hunt did not go as planned. He told me of your failure to bring home any meat. Yet, he also told me that the other ellyn in your party likely would not have returned at all if not for your skill and prowess at arms. He and every one of the other ellyn told the same tale of your courage and awareness of the wood around you and your might in defending the party from the giant spiders which attacked and would have slain our hunters.” The villagers applauded and cheered, but the chieftain called for silence.

“What is more, my friends from Lothlórien, you endured mockery for many turns of the stars and criticism from those who dismissed the idea of ‘warriors’. Yet you rose up and protected from harm those who disparaged you. That took another kind of courage as well, which I hold of greater worth. Beyond that, you proceeded to treat with profound skill the wounds inflicted by the spiders. You defeated this enemy and proved your great worth on many levels. As the chieftain of Celos Galen, I extend to you both my deepest gratitude and my sincerest admiration. I am most proud to count warriors such as yourselves among the ellyn of my village.”

Stepping forward, he embraced Haldir as he would a son, and then proceeded to embrace each of the other warriors in turn, while the crowd remained silent.

When the chieftain withdrew from the last one, he addressed the villagers. “Let us feast and show our gratitude to these new warriors of Celos Galen!”

While the crowd cheered, Saelon called the warriors together and quietly commanded, “Captain Haldir, I would like for you to choose from among our ellyn those who you think would make good warriors and begin training them in your ways of fighting. They must continue in their other duties to our folk as well, just as I would see you ellyn contribute in other ways to our settlement. However, I see the need for defenders such as yourselves, and I would have more than six valiant sons of the Galadhrim to protect our folk in time of need.”

Haldir bowed before the chieftain, feeling as deeply honored as if Lord Celeborn himself had just praised him, and replied, “We would be honored to serve you in every way we can.” The other five bowed as well, following suit.

Lord Saelon clapped Haldir on the shoulder, saying, “Thank you, my son.”

The captain only had time to nod in reply, his cheeks flushing with mild embarrassment and perhaps something else as Gilwen suddenly appeared, quietly slipping her hand into Haldir’s and whisking him away from the smiling chieftain and into the crowd.

***********

Over the next several weeks, ellyn of the village came to Haldir and his warriors in groups of six for testing. Accustomed to putting potential soldiers through the rigors necessary to seek out those who possessed the strengths and virtues necessary to become a good warrior, Haldir had little difficulty in setting up a testing ground. With so few villagers to choose from, Haldir was careful to see that everyone who wished it received at least some training while those who excelled were groomed for battle as the soldiers of Lórien had been.

Much to his surprise, all of the ellyn of the settlement showed promise as defenders and an unusually large number of those proved they had the makings of fine warriors. Once the potential warriors were chosen, Haldir set up regular practice sessions for all of them, building on what they knew and teaching what they were lacking. What these ellyn lacked in the awareness possessed by a soldier of Lórien, they made up for in strength, stamina, and determination.

When the ellyn of Lórien were not testing and training, they found themselves being tested and trained. Surprisingly though, they had much to teach in other disciplines as well.

“All of those ennin working side by side with the Noldor have to account for something,” Angaril had commented to his comrades as he took a break from forging swords and other tools using techniques the smiths of Celos Galen had never even dreamt of.

“Can you believe they actually accused me of being raised by dwarves?” He asked, thoroughly appalled.

“Well, the Noldor can be as annoying and obsessive as dwarves when they wish to be,” Ferevellon pointed out.

“Which is actually quite often come to think of it,” his twin added with a mockingly thoughtful look.

Angaril swatted him on the head, scowling. “Whatever their faults, the Noldor are amazingly skilled artisans and crafters and we owe them much.”

“Yes, we do owe them much. I am surprised myself at how much their influence has changed our ways and made them so different from those of the Galadhrim here,” Orophin observed. “All this time I used to take so much pride in how close we remained to the ways of our kin before us, yet I look around here and I just…” His voice trailed off with a sigh. “I see how far we truly have advanced.”

Several moments of thoughtful silence later, Rúmil asked, “Haldir, is it wrong that we teach them what we know? Are we changing things?”

“What are you suggesting, Rúmil?” Haldir quietly asked.

“Could…could we be influencing the future of the Galadhrim by imparting our knowledge to them such…such that it changes the time from which we come?”

“We have been teaching them much about the arts of warfare, the making of weapons, smithying, jewelry making,” Angaril added.

“Farming, pottery, the building of telain…” Fereveldir further supplied.

“The chieftain already is planning to bring smiths and craftsmen from other villages here in a few days…er…turns of the stars…” he paused, looking embarrassed at the slip. “to see our handiwork and share our techniques. What do we do?”

Haldir remained still for a time searching the land around them, then scrutinized the faces of each ellon before him before replying. “We should have thought of this before now. They already know what we can do and they already have learned much from us. I do not think that ceasing to share our knowledge now will be of any use. They cannot and will not unlearn what we have taught and shown them. If we stop now…” he shook his head, sorrow furrowing his brow. “If we stop now then lessons only half learned could in some cases be more detrimental than the damage done by sharing all that we know. And…this is very selfish…but if we stop now, then we could jeopardize our chances at having a life here.”

The others looked on their captain with sadness and regret in their eyes as he added, “Besides, according to what history we can remember, this village will not last to see the rise of Anor and Ithil. There is a chance that we and the villagers might all be dead before our influence ever spreads beyond the confines of these few small settlements.”

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Fae - spirits

Adar – father

Anor – the sun

Ithil – the moon

Daeradar – grandfather

Edair – fathers

Daernaneth - grandmother

Ennin – a period of 144 years

Chapter 7

Excitement filled the air as the visitors from three other settlements flooded Celos Galen. The ellith who had watched over Haldir and his ellyn continued to do so, answering questions, directing meetings, and assisting in any way they could.

“Tales of your skills as crafters and might with weapons have spread even to my community many leagues away,” one chieftain told Haldir.  “My crafters look forward to exchanging lore with you, and the ellyn of my settlement wish to test themselves against your bows and spears – just to see if the rumors are true.”

xxxxxxxxxxxxx

Two full turns of the stars later, Angaril met up with his brethren from Lórien in a secluded spot where their companions frequently met. “I cannot believe what these folk are putting me through!  Haldir, is there nothing you can do?”

Feeling equally harassed, Haldir replied helplessly, “Angaril, I swear to you that if I could I would. My sanity hangs by a thread as well.”

“May I at least have permission to slap or even just partially dismember the next person who tugs on my braids asking me to explain why an ellon would want such fancy trappings and to prove my prowess as a fighter?” Ferevellon begged. “I promise my blade will be swift and my aim true. The blood will only spray enough to silence these backward fools.”

“Yes, please!” his twin begged with equal fervor while the others nodded vigorously in agreement. “My blade will be swift as well. I promise!”

Their captain just shook his head, coughing suddenly to mask the laugh that tried to escape. “I understand how you feel. Truly I do. I am dealing with endless questions about training and where did we learn what we know and why did we leave Lothlórien in the first place. And everyone wants me to prove myself as well.”

“And did you have to distract your lovely chaperone and the lovely little new chaperones we have suddenly acquired from the other settlements and then run as if you were being chased by a warg in order to even make it here to meet unaccompanied?” Orophin asked.

Rúmil and the twins rolled their eyes and gestured in exasperated agreement. 

“You are not commenting, Brother,” Orophin observed.

Haldir and Angaril remained silent, suddenly looking elsewhere.

Rúmil cleared his throat loudly. “So, ah…” he poked Haldir in the arm that had been injured, directly over the scar which still occasionally pained him while Orophin jabbed Angaril in the ribs.

The two remained stoic despite the assault. “Nothing to say, I see.” Orophin chided.

“Our chaperones obviously are more efficient than yours and have managed to keep the other ellith at bay,” Angaril blurted out.

“Ah… so they are efficient…What a very Noldorin compliment you give them. I’m sure they would be flattered to hear you say such things about them,” Fereveldir commended sarcastically. “I suppose they are also very utilitarian.”

“Efficiency matters to the folk of Celos Galen and is an admired quality,” Angaril defended, a flush creeping up his cheeks.

“We need to gain the acceptance and respect of as many folk as possible if we are to survive here. This means we must be polite to all of these people, no matter their gender or the settlement from which they hail,” Haldir said, attempting to steer the conversation elsewhere.

“I suppose that having the chieftain’s granddaughter hanging on your arm for all to see does much to help you gain acceptance and respect among these different folk,” Rúmil observed.

“She has been advising me on how best to gain the support and respect of the other chieftains and their councils,” Haldir sniffed haughtily.

“Ohhhhhh! So I guess that means that she has been, shall we say, counseling you in diplomacy during all of those excursions down by the falls these last few turns of the stars before the others arrived.” Rúmil nodded sagely.

Haldir flushed crimson, his expression set in stone, but his hands clenched and unclenched at his sides as if he were crushing something.

“I believe you strike very near the mark,” Orophin commended Rúmil, clapping him on the back. “Very near indeed, my brother.”

At that moment, Angaril’s chaperone Nélliriel and Haldir's Gilwen rushed up and wrapped their arms around Angaril’s and Haldir’s arms respectively.

“Oh, what a blessing! You managed to get away, too!” Gilwen exclaimed breathlessly. “Come! Let us go down to the falls and escape from everyone!”

Haldir and Angaril flashed the ellith brilliant, indulgent smiles as they turned, allowing themselves to be led away.

“If you will excuse us, friends,” Haldir nodded over his shoulder, but the glare he gave the four left behind was filled with all of the politeness of a balrog’s whip.

The sound of chuckles and laughter followed the two couples as they disappeared into the trees.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

The ellon stood breathless and bloody before Saelon, the other chieftains, and the eldest edair of each of the families. For the first time, the gathering of elders included Haldir for he was the eldest of the group from Lothlórien.

“My Lord, they…they were huge…we were just the other side of the stand of elms and they…they came at us from the tops of the trees,” He pressed a bloody hand to his side where a crimson stain continued to spread across his torn shirt . “Wh…why? We are so very many with the other settlements gathered here for many turns of the stars already. Why did they attack?”

“How many were in your group?” The ellon’s chieftain asked.

“Twenty,” the ellon panted, growing paler. “We…we were preparing the kill from the hunt for the feast later and they suddenly attacked. We never even heard them come.”

“The stand of elms is very close to the borders of Celos Galen. They grow bolder. How many of the creatures were there?” Haldir asked grimly.

“I…I know not, my Lord. At least as many as were we. Perhaps more.”

“Gwilwileth!” Saelon called loudly, looking for his daughter-in-law among the swiftly gathering crowd. “We need healers immediately to tend this ellon and to see to the other injured out by the elms.”

“Captain Haldir, assemble our warriors. We are in need of your services once again.”

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

The warriors from Lórien were the first to arrive at the mustering, dressed in full gear and heavily armed. The new warriors, unused to much more than drills and sparring took longer to gather.

“Be assured, we will be practicing muster for battle every turn of the stars for a long time,” Haldir glowered in disapproval as the last new warrior took his place in line. “You have taken entirely too long to assemble.”

“Muster?” Sûllindo the chieftain of the nearest settlement to Celos Galen, asked as he looked with interest on the warriors. “What is that?”

Haldir resisted the urge to sigh in annoyance. This was not the time to be educating visitors. “The call to arms and gathering of fighters.”

Sûllindo and others not of Celos Galen nodded in understanding at the new term, a few mouthing it silently.

“So these are warriors,” Sûllindo observed, trying out the new word. “How come only the ones from Lothlórien wear these side braids?  Are they not all warriors? Many of our ellyn are excellent fighters and they do not wear their hair this way. And what is this strange garb?”

“The honor of wearing the braids is earned and the garb is called armor,” Saelon replied, noticing Haldir’s growing impatience. “I will tell you more of warriors and their clothing, weapons, and ways later. For now we must be silent and listen as Haldir directs them.”

Nodding his profound gratitude, Haldir turned back to his troops and briefed them on the situation. 

XXXXXXXXXXXXXX

“There are fresh marks here as well,” Fereveldir called from high up in yet another tree. “Brethil, look over here,” he said, gesturing to the elf on the opposite side of the bole from him. “See how these differ from each of the others we have seen? Two of the creatures descended from this tree.”

“Captain, we count five more which attacked from this direction,” Brethil reported, his voice betraying both pride in his new warrior status and fear at the implications of the dread news he was delivering.

“Haldir,” Saelon said gravely, his voice trembling slightly. “That…that is 25 creatures total!”

Haldir nodded. “And they surrounded the ellyn before they attacked, blocking all means of escape.”

“In my experience, the only time spiders attack in this manner is when they are preparing to breed,” Angaril offered as he jumped the last few feet from the tree he had scaled with one of the trainees dropping down right behind him.

“Preparing to breed?” the other two chieftains echoed in alarm.

“Do we not have enough of them already?” The heir of one of the chieftains asked.

Haldir smiled briefly as he gestured for the warriors to join him. “Well, apparently they do not think so.”

“Do we know in which direction they escaped afterward?” he asked.

“North!” the replies came from the scouts one after another.

“And given what we know of the local history,” Rúmil said in a low voice, speaking Sindarin for his comrades hearing only. “That makes a great deal of sense.”

“I had no idea Morgoth’s reach extended so far so early,” Haldir replied quietly, shaking his head in dismay.

“The Noldor are not here yet and if Menegroth has not yet been established… Then there is no one yet to stop him,” Orophin commented.

“Except us,” Haldir replied.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

“I disagree. It is too dangerous! I will not risk the sons of my settlement on so foolish a venture.  Saelon, you should just move your folk. It is the wisest thing to do and what we always have done.”

Haldir smiled grimly. “I do not ask you to risk the sons of your settlements. My warriors and I will be the ones to go. At some point you will have to stop running. Would you have them chase you all the way to the sea?”

“The what?” a chorus of confused voices asked at once.

Haldir turned away from the assembled elders of the three settlements, wiping his hand across his face as he softly swore in Sindarin. Mentally he kicked himself. Of course they would not know what the sea was! Bah! What was he thinking?! Sometimes it was so frustrating talking to these simple-minded folk! Well, perhaps not simple-minded, just ignorant and naive.

He sighed and took a few deep breaths to give himself time to gather his thoughts. A hand gripped his shoulder and he turned to meet Saelon’s concerned gaze.

“The sea, my son? What is the sea?” he asked.

“If you travel as far west as possible across the land, then you will come to the great expanse of water that Ingwë, Finwë, and Elwë crossed to get to Valinor which is the new land the Belain promised to the elves. The expanse of water is called the sea,” Haldir patiently explained.

“He truly is well-steeped in lore,” the other chieftains remarked, nodding their heads sagely. “Saelon, you are greatly blessed to have one so learned join your folk.”

Saelon smiled proudly. “Indeed, I am blessed.” Turning back to Haldir he asked, “Do you truly believe that hunting the creatures is the wisest thing to do at this time? What you propose has not been done before.”

“My Lord, I ask only that you give us the chance to try. We need to know where these creatures come from and how many they number. If we can destroy their lair before they reproduce, then perhaps we can assure the continued safety not only of Celos Galen, but of the other settlements as well.”

Saelon stood silently in thought for a few moments, then sighed, “Take the warriors and see what you can learn, Captain Haldir. If you think you can destroy the creatures without undue risk to our ellyn, then do so. If not, then return and we will plan the move of the settlement. I trust your judgment in this.” 

“Yes, my Lord,” Haldir replied, relieved. “And thank you for trusting me.”

Haldir bowed and turned to leave, but Saelon grabbed his arm, staying him briefly. “I am trusting you with the lives of many sons. Let that trust be well-founded, Haldir.”

Haldir clasped his chieftain’s shoulder as he assured, “It will be, my Lord. I promise.”

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Chapter 8

The warriors set out with a slightly larger party than intended for ellyn from the Chieftain Sûllindo’s settlements insisted on coming, too, led by Chieftain Sûllindo’s eldest son Sûlion. Haldir had no choice but to accept the additional company though it angered him considerably having to bring along such a liability.  He had argued against it, but Saelon over-ruled him, claiming it a matter of honor for that other settlement to let the others join the hunt. Before they departed, Haldir thought he had made it very clear that he was in charge and that everyone needed to obey his commands in order to better assure the safety of the entire party.

From the outset, Sûlion questioned everything Haldir did.

“Why do we travel in this direction?”

“Why do you carry such large weapons? Is that not inefficient?”

“Are you certain this is the most efficient way to track the creatures? Anything could have made those marks.”

“Why do you always include ellyn from Lothlórien in each scouting party when the ellyn of Celos Galen know the land better? Do you not trust the ellyn of Celos Galen? Are you ellyn of Lothlórien wanting all of the glory of the kill for yourselves?”

Observing a white-knuckled, red-faced Haldir taking deep breaths after yet another challenging question, Ferevellon made a tempting offer in loudly whispered Sindarin, “I can incapacitate him and make it look like an accident.”

Haldir glared at his soldier in response, then gestured in what he hoped was a fervent enough plea to all of the Belain when the next questions immediately came.

“What is that tongue I keep hearing you speak? Why is the tongue of the Galadhrim not good enough for you?”

Ferevellon quietly slid back to his position in the ranks, declaring loudly now in Quenya just to rankle the annoying ellon even more, “I am available if you should need me, my Captain. I will be discrete. All you have to do is ask. I promise.”

“Now who obviously has spent too much time among the Noldor?” Angaril wistfully asked no one in particular, switching back to Sindarin and earning himself snickers from Haldir’s brothers.

For the next great while, Haldir contented himself with considering the many different ways in which Ferevellon could carry out his offer should Haldir give the word. It certainly made the rest of the march that much more tolerable.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXX

The lair was in a cave as Haldir suspected it would be – dank and foul-smelling just like every other breeding lair of spiders Haldir had ever encountered. He hated spiders, probably more than he hated orcs, if truth be told. For one thing orcs were easier to kill. For another, orcs did not produce hundreds of offspring at a time like the spiders sure did. He hated having orcs as neighbors on the borders of Lórien, requiring so many of the ellyn to patrol and fight to defend the borders constantly. It would be far worse having spiders as neighbors here in Celos Galen.

Once the new recruits had been shown what to look for, they proved themselves very skillful in spite of the annoying Sûlion and his band of hunters. The ellyn of Celos Galen truly were exceptional trackers and hunters and Haldir told them as much. He did not give his praise lightly, but these ellyn certainly deserved it. He was proud of what they had learned in the short time he had been teaching them and he knew that Saelon was, too. Surprisingly, he could not readily determine whose approval meant more to his new recruits and that secretly pleased him. He hoped he would continue to be worthy of their loyalty and trust, and successfully completing this mission would go a long way toward solidifying that.

Success in this mission would earn him many things in Celos Galen. It would make his voice in the councils more important. Having the knowledge he did of the future meant that he might be able to keep these folk safe when the orcs finally arrived in Beleriand and it became necessary to move the folk of Celos Galen to the safety of Doriath. Success also would help assure the continued existence of a trained fighting force in the community and perhaps enable the people to stay in one place for longer periods of time and perhaps even expand in number as well.

This brought something else to mind as well, something he did not wish to influence him as much as it was…his feelings for the lovely Gilwen. It was unclear to him how many months he had known her. It may even have been more than a year now.  The time simply did not matter. For as long as he had been here in the past, she had been with him, a comfort, a strength, a constant companion, a source of much needed guidance, and a joy. Parting from her to go on this mission had been far more difficult than he had expected. And it irritated him greatly.

He simply did not have time for something like this in his life!  He never had and was perfectly content with it remaining that way. Then again, he was perfectly content with her by his side and even more so with her in his arms, for such was the direction their relationship had taken of late. It was exceedingly irritating. He did not need this now with so many things of far greater importance needing to take precedence!

He could still taste her sweet mouth, still feel the press of her soft lips. And that annoyed him most of all. 

She was a distraction he could not afford.

And yet…if he succeeded in all he was striving for in Celos Galen, Saelon her chieftain and Damrod her adar just might approve of that distraction becoming his forever.

XXXXXXXXXXXXX

Orophin and ten of the new recruits remained outside on guard alongside the “extra baggage” as Fereveldir had rightly named the ellyn of the other settlement. The darkness in the cave was absolute so Haldir ordered lit the torches he and his soldiers had brought along.

As the third torch was lit, Angaril softly commented in Sindarin, “Makes one miss the Noldor even more, does it not? I would dearly love to have one of those Feanorean lamps right about now. Just raise the shutter for light. Very efficient. They were very useful whenever we had to go into Moria. ”

“I am not so sure that you were not raised by dwarves, Angaril,” Rúmil observed cheekily earning himself a swat on the head from the quick-handed smith in spite of ducking behind a confused warrior.

Haldir smiled, grateful to his brother for the much needed levity. He had to admit, he missed the Noldor and the Feanorean lamps, too.

A musty dank darkness met them as they moved deeper into the low-ceilinged cave. Swords drawn and torches held before them, they stooped, moving single file with Haldir in the lead. Occasionally the torches hissed as droplets of water oozed and dripped from the ceiling. Small stalactites hung down, eliciting a slight hiss or moan every now and then when one of the taller ellyn bumped his head. A ways inside, the passage way opened up enough for them to stand upright. Haldir looked back and noticed that the twins, Rúmil, and a few others sported scraped foreheads with lingering drops of blood on their brows. Giving them a small smile he turned his attention back to the way ahead.

Haldir slowed the pace, looking around more carefully as the musty stench grew to one of decay. Wispy, filmy threads of sticky white silk stuck to the walls in places, occasionally clinging to their boots. However, the only sound was the constant drip of water seeping through from above.

The passage turned abruptly to the left. He halted a moment as the reek almost physically overpowered him. Dead animals hung suspended from the roof of the cave: birds, rodents, a couple of foxes, and some things which were so badly decomposed he could not readily distinguish the species. The stink of rotting flesh was horrendous. He silently gave thanks that he had not eaten in many hours or he knew he would lose the contents of his stomach.

A few moments later, he heard the sound of retching and looked back to see two of the new recruits lose the private battle with their bodies. Haldir called a halt for a few minutes, giving them the chance to regain their composure before continuing on.

The passage way twisted and turned with a noticeable downward slope. Animal bones littered the floor, crunching underfoot, and the bodies of larger animals hung from the ceiling or lay suspended in horror against the walls.

When the way opened up into a wide room, Haldir suddenly stopped. Brethil a grandson of Lord Saelon sidestepped to avoid running into him and cursed and swore angrily as he became enmeshed in the thick webbing on the wall. Angaril and Fereveldir patiently struggled to free him, commenting, “We have been in your position before, friend. A lot of soap and a dip in the stream will get that stuff out of your clothes and hair.” 

Too annoyed to find any humor in the situation, Haldir looked about, then motioned with his torch whispering, “The sacks hanging over there are different from the rest.”

Others cautiously moved forward to investigate. The floor was deep with webby residue, causing them to lift their feet high with each struggling step they took. Poking and prodding with their swords, many softly swore as realization dawned.

“What is it?” Brethil asked.

“Egg sacks,” Ferevellon replied. “But how many?” He walked further into the darkness to the left. “Sweet Eru!”  Then he let out a string of expletives.  

“Ferevelleon?” Haldir called very concerned. “What is it?”

“A lot more egg sacks and I stepped into something foul which oozed and gave way beneath my foot. I really do not want to know what it is,” came the anguished reply. “Gah! It is disgusting!”

“Then step out of it and come back over here where the floor is less obscured,” Haldir ordered.

“You were right, Haldir,” observed the awed voice of one of the new recruits named Galadin, the eldest adar of his family line. “They are storing up food to feed a whole new generation of trouble for Celos Galen and the other settlements as well. But can the eggs be destroyed?”

The sounds of swords swishing through web and hacking at sacks which plopped into the webby mess on the floor echoed off the walls as Angaril and the twins demonstrated a most effective method of destroying the egg sacks.

“Very well then,” Galadin grinned maniacally in the flickering light as he raised his sword and found himself joined by all of the others in the group gleefully chopping egg sacks to bits.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

A thorough search of the cave revealed no more threats, so twenty-five ruined egg sacks later, the warriors found themselves back outside and engaged in a fight for their lives. At least they managed to escape from the cave before the first of the spiders attacked. The short bows of the “extra baggage” proved mostly ineffective unless the spiders were struck directly in an eye. The long knives of the same ellyn provided little defense let alone offence forcing the ellyn to flee.

Orophin and the new recruits proved themselves to be much more effective fighters, swinging swords to hack off spider legs and stab between joints. They dispatched four by the time Haldir and his troops successfully joined the fray. Working together the new recruits managed to destroy a fair number of the creatures on their own. Fortune smiled upon them in that the spiders did not all return at once. This gave the new recruits the time they needed to observe and develop their own strategies for fighting the horrible creatures.

Haldir on the other hand found himself Fortune’s fool or more like Fools guardian for he constantly had to drive spiders away from the elves who had tried to flee, twice saving the life of the annoying Sûlion who was pinned by spiders and stabbed in the arms and legs.

The warriors of Lothlórien dispatched the majority of the spiders, but the ellyn of Celos Galen all proved themselves well. By the time the last spider fell, all of the warriors were the worse for wear (as were the ill-prepared elves who fled), but few of the injuries were serious.

The most able-bodied ellyn worked long after the battle, gathering spider carcasses for burning and watching over the putrid flames until the last ashes went out. The remaining elves rested, tending and recovering from wounds. In an effort which redeemed them greatly in Haldir’s eyes, the poorly armed elves from the other settlement did the majority of the work required of the able-bodied in spite of their own wounds. Few of them would meet the eyes of Haldir or the other warriors in conversation afterward, but they did gaze on them with newfound admiration and respect and not a little envy.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Two turns of the stars later, the weary elves started the journey back to Celos Galen. The long slow walk allowed Haldir time to make mental notes of skills which needed honing and to plan for the teaching of such skills. He also, as Orophin had reminded him when the last spider fell, needed to plan the braiding ceremony for twenty new warriors had just earned their braids. Haldir smiled at the absurd happenstance that this same ceremony which he and every warrior he had ever known had experienced actually might well be a tradition started by him and his comrades.

“Captain,” Angaril called from behind, still heavily favoring his left leg where a crude bandage covered a long gash. 

Haldir dropped back to join him, putting an arm around him as added support. “Are you ready to give in and let me help you make it back there?”

Angaril grimaced as he stumbled again nearly falling on Haldir, but shook his head no. “And that is not why I called out to you, either. I wanted to let you know that when we started training the new recruits, I made a sigil e-hereg in anticipation of needing to initiate new warriors.  I did not have any mithril to work with, but I did my best with what was available to me. Being the eldest warriors, you and I are the ones who will be initiating the new warriors first.”

Accepting some of Angaril’s weight, Haldir smiled his gratitude at his weary comrade. “I’m glad you thought to make one. I was planning to use my own knife, but now it looks as if we will be able to do this properly. What pattern do we use?”

Rúmil came over to them and slipped an arm around Angaril’s other side further easing his discomfort.

“Could not help overhearing. Not that you asked me,” Rúmil smirked as Haldir scowled. “but I think we should use the same braid we use… used – sorry – in Lórien. Celos Galen will not even be around when Anor finally rises, so what harm is there if they copy us? Besides it makes their warriors look like us when they are striving to be like us – helps in the striving for, and it makes our job easier not having to come up with a new pattern.”

“I agree with Rúmil,” Angaril said, “And friends, while I greatly appreciate the help getting back to Celos Galen, I want to enter the settlement under my own power. Otherwise I will never hear the end of it from my lovely Nélliriel who made me promise her I would not get hurt.”

“You got that wound protecting her brother. That has to count for something,” Rúmil commented. “Besides you are bleeding again and Brandir will tell her what happened anyway. Just enjoy her attention and let her take care of you.”

“Is that what Haldir will be doing with that wound on his arm which is directly on top of the scar the orcs gave him at Helm’s Deep?” Angaril looked over at his Captain. “Gilwen will not be happy with you messing up her fine sewing.”

“No, she will not,” Haldir readily agreed. “But at least her naneth and aunts allow her to tend me alone and do not dote on me as well like Nélliriel’s dote on you.”

“Hence his reluctance to sport injuries in Nélliriel’s presence,” Rúmil summed up.

“Do not worry, Angaril,” Brandir grimaced, painfully adjusting his sling. “My arm and shoulder will keep them busy enough to give you plenty of time alone with my sister. I’ll see to it. It is the least I can do.”

“Thanks,” Angaril grinned.

Rúmil looked less certain. “Perhaps you should not be so comforted that Brandir is so willing to buy you time to be alone with his sister. I am not so sure that I would want you left alone with my sister – if I had one.”

“Which you do not,” Brandir panted with a smirk, still struggling with his sling. “If it should eventually come to it, I will not mind having Angaril as a brother. He is far more tolerable than anyone else who has sought her companionship.”

“More tolerable?” Haldir echoed flatly. He patted Angaril consoling. “Good luck if it should ever come to that, my more tolerable friend. I think you will need it.”

Snickers echoed from all around.

But Sûlion was silent the whole way back.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Much as he was unwilling to admit it, being injured did have some benefits for Haldir. Not only did he receive Gilwen’s undivided attention, he also had a lot of time where he was left alone with her undisturbed. Whenever she gave him tea to ease his pain (he really was in more pain than he cared to admit with more injuries than he had disclosed to his brothers and warriors), she would lie beside him and sing to him. Her voice lilted exquisitely with songs he had never before heard, and whenever he drifted off to sleep, he always awoke in her arms.

More than once he espied her adar and naneth covertly watching the two of them together, approving smiles on their faces. At some point, he would have to ask what customs their settlement observed for courting and marriage. But for now, he was content to be with her in whatever ways her parents allowed.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXX

When Haldir had sufficiently recovered, the chieftains summoned him to council.

“My son,” Saelon addressed him as if making it very clear to the other chieftains to which settlement Haldir now belonged, “I have spoken with each of the warriors who accompanied you on the hunt. Every one of them told of the skills and strategies you employed and the expertise with which you brought about the destruction of the spiders. Every one of them is eager to follow you on further hunts should the need arise.” He clapped Haldir on the shoulder. “I am proud of you and grateful to you for being willing to risk this venture and for bringing about its success.”

Haldir inclined his head in acknowledgement of the praise. “My warriors – all of them – deserve the honor and praise for they entered into the danger willingly without hesitation and fought bravely using the skills we taught them. I am proud of them all.”

“Sûlion and those of my folk who accompanied him told me much of this venture,” Chieftain Sûllindo commented. “My son admitted he did not make it easy for you, yet you handled yourself with honor and grace. He and my ellyn spoke many words in praise of you. I know it was a burden for you, but thank you for allowing them to join your hunt.”

Sûllindo bowed his head for a few moments, shifting a little uncomfortably, before meeting Haldir’s eyes with new respect in his gaze. “I also thank you for saving my son’s life. He told me the details of that as well. It must have been difficult for you to do so after the way he admitted to behaving early in the hunt.”

Haldir felt it wise not to comment beyond a diplomatic, “I endeavor to see to the safety of all who are entrusted to my care.”

Saelon smiled knowingly and mouthed “well said” to Haldir such that Sûllindo did not see.

The other chieftain smirked as well, observing, “Saelon, you are indeed fortunate to have one such as him in your settlement. You had best be careful that one of our ellith does not steal him away.”

The ellon paused a moment then added, “Until one of us can figure out a way to entice you to settle among our respective folk, we would like for you to choose potential warriors from among each of our peoples and teach them as you have trained the ellyn of Celos Galen. You have sufficiently proven to us the need for having warriors in each of our settlements. They may not need to fight often, but they will be invaluable when they are needed.”

“What say you, Haldir?” Saelon asked. “Would you be willing to train them?”

Pausing a few moments to consider the proposal, Haldir carefully asked, “Would they be trained here or would my warriors from Lothlórien and I need to go to the other settlements?”

“That would be according to your preference,” Saelon said.

“Then I would prefer to start the training here.”

“Very well then,” Saelon said and the other chieftains agreed.

Then Haldir ventured, feeling this was as good a time as any to make this proposition, “There is one thing more that I need to do for the warriors of Celos Galen to fully initiate them and give them the honor due true warriors. There is a ritual which must be performed when a warrior commits his first kill of an enemy. Once the warriors of each of the other settlements and any new warriors hereafter commit their first kill of an enemy, this ritual must be followed for them as well. I think it would be good for you chieftains to see this so you can make certain that each of your warriors is given the honor he is due.”

“Please tell us what is involved so that we may see to the honor of our warriors,” Saelon said approvingly. 

And Haldir explained.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Twenty ellyn stood shoulder to shoulder in two even lines. He had not told them what the ceremony would involve, only that it was a great honor. Nervous eyes followed Haldir as he strode among the ellyn, looking each one up and down. Occasionally he stopped and scowled, adjusting a tunic here or a belt there. They had no uniforms yet, but that was something he would worry about later if the need for such arose. For now he was wary of introducing any more new concepts to these folk than necessary. The braids he viewed as a necessity and a right of honor, but the idea of people dressing in exactly matching clothing would likely be viewed as inefficient and impractical to such simple folk.

Regarding the ellyn with a practiced eye, Haldir realized that the ellyn of Lothlórien had been fighting or prepared to fight for so many ennin that the new recruits usually were young or the younger members of each family. These ellyn of Celos Galen who stood before him now ranged from the youngest son of the youngest generation of one family to the eldest adar with many generations of sons of another family. Nearly three quarters of these new warriors had been born at Cuiviénen. Haldir found the whole idea of this staggering.

There were so precious few left in the Third Age who had actually seen Cuiviénen let alone those who even had grandparents who had seen it. And none of those in the Third Age who had seen it could actually say in truth how old they themselves were for the measuring of years simply did not matter much then. Curiously enough, Haldir realized that it was possible that at 5000 and a few years of age he was older than all of these ellyn even though they all were born before his daeradar’s adar!

He shook his head in dismay to clear it of these confusing thoughts which boggled his mind. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the new warrior nearest him bow his head crestfallen.

Alarmed, Haldir looked over at the ellon, trying to figure out what the problem was. The warrior was neatly dressed and his hair freshly combed as Haldir had ordered.  The ellon’s grandparents and grandchildren looked on proudly from their place in the crowd. He could see no reason why the ellon should be distraught.

“What is wrong?” Haldir whispered to him in concern.

“Sir, the look you just gave me. I…I do not know what I did to displease you, but I am so very sorry.”

Haldir bit his lip trying not to laugh, but he could not stop the broad smile of amusement. “Everything is all right,” he quietly reassured the ellon. “I just came to some, ah…rather disturbing realizations that I was not expecting and they unsettled me. It is mere coincidence that I was looking at you at that moment.” He clapped the ellon on the shoulder reassuringly, bowing his own head in mildly embarrassed apology. “I am sorry for upsetting you. I was rather upset myself at that moment and not paying attention to anything around me.”

The ellon smiled back, clapping him on the shoulder in return. “Thank you, Captain Haldir.”

Haldir nodded, then stepped away, realizing more fully just how much his approval mattered to these ellyn. He found it meant a great deal to him to be held in such regard by them. He was used to it from his warriors in Lothlórien, having earned the right to such from many (perhaps too many) ennin of fighting, but to be held in such regard by ellyn he had known for so short a time…that touched him far more deeply than he ever expected.

At a signal from Haldir, Saelon called for silence and the warriors from Lothlórien joined Haldir. When the crowd stilled, Saelon nodded to Haldir who then spoke for all to hear.

“We are gathered here to celebrate the courage and prowess of the ellyn assembled here before you. Each ellon trained and worked very hard to do his duty in protecting you his people. You may ask, what is the difference between what these ellyn have done and what any of you have done who have ever defended your settlement in a time of need?”

Several ellyn, especially those of the other settlements, murmured and nodded at the question, clearly interested in the answer.

“When one’s home is threatened, then everyone becomes a defender and protector with whatever tool is at hand in order to save one’s life, one’s livelihood, one’s home. This is expected of anyone who wishes to survive in a time of need. With a warrior, however, defending and protecting are choices often made when there is the respectable option to stay home, and no one would think differently of the ellon for remaining in the settlement and not fighting.”

He paused for a moment, gesturing to the two rows of ellyn.

“These ellyn before you made a choice to excelbeyond the necessary skills to survive. They have chosen to be available to protect and defend even when those tasks are not asked of anyone else. They have honed their fighting skills with the bow, the sword, and the spear beyond that which is needed for the hunt. They have volunteered to go forth and meet the enemy rather than waiting for the enemy to come to them as previously was the tradition. They have followed the call of this duty with honor and dignity out of love and loyalty for their fellow Galadhrim.”

Haldir looked about, noticing the pride in the eyes of the new warriors and the people of Celos Galen while those of the other settlements looked less certain and even a little ashamed.

“Many of you have asked my brethren and me to explain why we wear our hair in this manner. It seems frivolous and unusual and sets us apart from everyone else.” A few people brazenly glared at Haldir for bringing up their past comments while others seemed embarrassed for having harbored these notions.

“When a warrior has completed his first personal defeat of an enemy, he earns the mark of a warrior: the badge and sign which mark him as a proven fighter and a brother in arms. The warrior earns the right, privilege, and honor to wear his braids.

“You have all heard the tales of danger and valor and strength and prowess of those who fought to defeat the spiders which threatened the safety of everyone here. These ellyn standing before you met this enemy and defeated it with the might of their arms and the blood of their bodies. What they have done for you has earned them the right to wear the braids which set them apart, the braids which mark them for all to see as warriors.”

Haldir turned to his warriors from Lothlórien and nodded for them to proceed. The six then went to the first six ellyn and began braiding the sides of each new warrior’s hair, inserting clay beads at different intervals.

Catching some whispered questions among the crowd, Haldir further explained, “The pattern of the braid including the kind and color of the beads used is unique to each settlement or group of settlements. The pattern we are using now is the one used by...”

Haldir paused a moment at a loss as to how to best to explain things without causing more questions. He finished the braid on one side and moved to the ellon’s other side, giving himself time to think.

“It is the pattern used by all of the Galadhrim from the other side of the mountains and not just one settlement. Our using this pattern for the warriors here shows our…ah…unity with our brethren who did not make the journey west.”

The last words came tumbling out with rather less confidence than the rest of Haldir’s speech. He had never had to explain the braids in this manner before for everyone just knew and accepted them because this was the way things have always been done. Suddenly he felt even less certain than before that he liked setting new standards and traditions.

Once the last braid was tied on the last warrior, the crowd cheered. Haldir sighed in exasperation and waved his arms for silence.

“Please!” he called out. “Please. The ceremony is not yet complete.”

Once everyone had calmed, Haldir and Angaril went to the first warrior in the first line. Angaril withdrew the sigil e-hereg and handed it to Haldir who held it up for all to see.

“This next part is called the blooding of the braids where the two eldest warriors present acknowledge the willingness of the new warrior to shed his blood in defense of others by shedding their blood for the new warrior. This blade is called the blood knife designed for use in this ceremony. After we blood the braids, we will say the traditional words of honor and acknowledgement and then give the three kisses of the warrior to the eyes which have seen much and will yet see far more and to the mouth which draws the breath of life that others might live.”

Haldir lowered the knife and proceeded to cut the palm of his right hand and that of Angaril’s. The new warriors collectively paled, looking worried and very concerned as a thin line of blood oozed out from each palm. The two elder warriors wiped their blood on the braids of the warrior.

Loudly Haldir proclaimed, echoed by Angaril, “Warrior’s blood for warrior’s braids."

Next he placed his hands on the sides of the warrior’s face and kissed each of the warrior’s eyes and mouth, then proclaimed, “A warrior is born, a sworn brother is given.”

Then Angaril gave his kisses and stated the proclamation. The other warriors visibly relaxed once they realized none of their blood would be required of them for this ceremony.

When the last braid of the last warrior was blooded, Haldir told them that per tradition they could wash their hair after the next turn of the stars.

Wrapping a strip of cloth around his still bleeding hand, Haldir gestured to the new warriors and introduced them each by name to the crowd which cheered as each warrior’s name was called.

After the crowd finally dispersed, Saelon, accompanied by the other chieftains, sought out Haldir.

“Captain Haldir,” he marveled, “I…I have never seen anything like this before! None of us have. In truth, I fear for our people left in the east. After seeing this ceremony which is now a tradition among them, I…I stand in awe now knowing what has been required of them in order to survive. I have to wonder how they will survive without you unless there are others like you. And…I give you my deepest gratitude for training warriors to defend us.”

Haldir saluted his chieftain then bowed. “It is my very great honor to share my knowledge with the ellyn of Celos Galen whom I have come to love and respect as much as I do my own folk of Lothlórien. I thank you for giving my ellyn and me the chance to prove ourselves to you and the opportunity to serve these our new people.” Then he turned to the other chieftains adding, “I look forward to training warriors to defend your settlements as well.”

Saelon embraced him in reply, speaking for all of the chieftains, “Well done, my beloved son.”  Then holding him at arm’s length, he added with a sly smile, “Now go find the lovely Gilwen and enjoy the feast.”

Haldir smiled, “Thank you. I believe I will.”

When he was far enough away from the chieftains that he deemed it safe, he sighed heavily, sagging against the nearest tree. His fellows from Lothlórien immediately surrounded him, speaking Sindarin.

“That was impressive,” Ferevellon said.

“Amazing,” his twin echoed.

“I liked the way you explained away the use of the Lórien braids,” said Orophin.

“And the covering for the lack of sunset of the following day for washing the hair,” Rúmil added. “We sort of forgot about that detail when we were planning the ceremony.”

“Thank you all for all of your help in this,” Haldir waved his bandaged hand to encompass everything in general. “The training, the battle, the ceremony, our healing after Helm’s Deep, surviving Helm’s Deep and coming here…I…I do not know what I would have done if I had ended up here alone. You are all my brothers and I love you and am grateful to you all.”

Each one hugged Haldir, offering their feelings on the matter as well. When the last one had his say to the group, Rúmil clapped Haldir on the back and said, “Well, lovely as this was, we are off to something lovelier.”

Haldir looked at the lot of them in confusion. “What?”

“We realized that you and Angaril each have something rather nice to occupy your time, so we finally gave in and acquired our own, shall we say, pretty pursuits.”

The four ellith responsible for the each of the two sets of brothers walked up and took each ellon by an arm, happily leading him away to join in the dancing.

Haldir and Angaril stared, dumbfounded, mouths agape at their retreating backs. Angaril started to speak a couple of times before words finally escaped his lips. “Did I just see...” then he gestured after them and tried again. “When…did that happen?”

Haldir gestured after them as well, just as speechless and confused, sputtering. “Wh-…I…They…” then his hand dropped to his side and he gave up.

“You know what, Angaril? I really do not care. I am just glad that it finally did happen. Now perhaps they will leave us alone.”

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

*Notes on the braid ceremony. I borrowed, with permission, the ceremony, the ritual words, and whatever other similarities in the braiding ceremony you might find from and in Fiondil’s  Elf Interrupted: Book One. I came up with the meanings, symbolism, and explanations for what happened in the ceremony and Fiondil approved.

sigil e-hereg – blood knife – the ceremonial knife used in the blooding ceremony.

Chapter 10

“So, I would guess from the fact that we are all gathered up here to work on this that Damrod did not know what you were talking about?” Rúmil asked, gesturing around the talan that Haldir still shared with Gilwen’s family.

Haldir sighed. “That would be correct. However he did think that it was a fascinating concept and would like to see it when we finish. By the way, Ferevellon, we are grateful for this table you made.” He ran his fingers over the surface of the low table around which they were all seated on the floor.  “It is just the right height for preparing and eating meals and for all of the others things that I have so desperately missed having a table for.”

“Thank you,” Ferevellon replied, sitting up a bit straighter and looking quite pleased with himself. “The idea has caught on and my brother and I have orders for eight more already. I am just surprised that no one thought to make tables before now. They can build a talan, but they never thought of making tables or chairs even?”

“Consider the way they live,” Orophin pointed out. “They live in the trees and they move whenever something important becomes compromised. They have no pack animals, so everything has to be carried on their backs and everything has to be able to be carried up a ladder high in a tree. Would you not be horrified at the prospect of packing up everything you had in your talan in Caras Galadhon and carrying it on your back to a new settlement many leagues away?”

“Yes, that is a good point,” Ferevellon agreed quite readily with a vigorous nod of his head.

“Hence these Galadhrim’s passion for efficient and utilitarian items,” Angaril added smugly as he leaned to the side and ducked behind Rúmil to avoid the small object which immediately flew in his direction.

“So, Captain,” Fereveldir said loudly in attempt to bring the conversation back to the matter at hand. “Did the eldest among the new recruits we have been training from the other settlements know what a map was either or are they as ignorant as Damrod?”

Haldir shook his head. “One would think that making a map would be important to these people, but it would seem that without the concept of a written language, they do not think there is any point in trying to record anything in a permanent or semi-permanent fashion. Keep in mind that Daeron’s cirth and Feanor’s tengwar have not been invented yet or at least are unknown among these folk if they have been invented. They do carve things out of wood and engrave pictures and designs in wood, but…” he threw up his hands in a gesture of helplessness. “Apparently something as efficient and utilitarian,” He glared at Angaril for emphasis, “as a map never occurred to them. Everyone just remembers what is important and they tell tales to teach others, so why record it any other way?”

Orophin smiled in acknowledgement, shaking his head in mild disbelief as he pulled a rolled up piece of deer skin leather from under the table and began spreading it for all to see. “We have already begun work on the maps. Haldir and I have attempted one of all of Beleriand based on what we could remember from a map we saw in a book in Elrond’s library a few ennin ago.”

He pointed to a few realms on the map. “We know for certain that these places: Nargothrond, Gondolin, Vinyamar, Hithlum, Dorthonian, and so on do not yet exist or there are no realms there by these names. Doriath might exist, but we simply do not know for certain because we still do not know where or when we are other than not in Doriath.”

Sliding his finger across the map, he tapped it on a large forest south of the area labeled East Beleriand. “Haldir was told that we were found near the edge of the forest west of here, so it is possible that we are here near Thargelion. It is also possible that we are in Taur-im-Duinath here in this forest bordered by the rivers Gelion to the east and the river Sirion and the Bay of Balar to the west. Brethil told us that they crossed a river to get here as they migrated westward from the place where he was born. Of course Ossiriand was ‘the land of seven rivers’, so his memory does open up many more possibilities for us as well.” 

Angaril shook his head in disbelief. “That is a very large area for speculation. Is there any way we can narrow this down?”

“We could go scouting and see where we end up if we go far enough west and north,” Rúmil suggested.

Everyone sat in silence for a time, pondering the possibilities.

Sighing, Haldir finally said, “I would very much like to explore and try to determine where we are. However we have an obligation to complete the training of the new recruits from the other settlements. I think we should map out our surroundings first and create a map with only pictures to show Damrod and whoever else wishes to see it. We will create another one with cirth on it as well for ourselves to use as a reference. I would like to explore the other settlements and include them and their hunting grounds on a map as well.”

“How come we did not think of this or attempt this before now?” Fereveldir asked.

“Actually I did think of it before, but I was afraid of the consequences of leaving the settlement too soon,” Haldir confessed. “We needed their help, we needed to fully heal, and we needed to become established enough that we would have a home to return to once our wanderings were finished. We were too weak and too ignorant of too many things to survive in these lands without help.”

He paused and looked about with a wistful smile at the sounds of ellith chatting and laughing somewhere on the ground below the talan. “We know now that there are many dangers here and there is more safety in numbers. I want to talk to some of the older ones in the settlement about their memories of migrating here to this settlement. When we go, I want to take some of the hunters with us. We may be closer to Doriath than we realize or we may be so far from it that trying to get to the safety it represents once Morgoth unleashes the orcs may not be feasible.”

“We have just taught these people to try to stay and fight in the face of danger if possible rather than flee from it immediately. What if they will not leave when the orcs finally come? How will we explain our knowledge of orcs?” Angaril asked worriedly.

“I think we will have to deal with that when the time comes. Perhaps we can explain away our knowledge of orcs as something we learned from our travels. It would not be a lie.” Haldir smiled sadly. “We simply need not tell them that we acquired this knowledge thousands of years in the future.”

A sorrowful silence descended on the group as each seemed to recall some memory from his past, now a distant future. When Orophin spoke up again to begin a discussion of the settlement map, the somber mood never quite went away.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

The waterfall fell in brilliant cascade of rushing and trembling in the starlit pool below. Haldir sat enchanted by Gilwen’s song about the pool of stars.  When her song ended, he expressed his appreciation with a long passionate kiss.  When he drew away, she leaned back against a tree on the bank, dangling her foot in the water and troubling the reflected shimmering stars. He could not help but smile as he picked up his harp and played her a tune of the waterfall.

Did he really have to go away, he wondered as he played. Was exploring truly that important? He could just stay here and be with her…His tune faltered briefly and she looked at him quizzically as he flushed with embarrassment and fumbled with a few notes before finding the melody again.

Much to his surprise he realized he really could just stay here with her at his side. Contentedness was not a luxury he had ever truly found for himself in Lórien. There were many things he missed from his old life, but he had gained so much in this simple new life here in Celos Galen.  Why was he so eager to leave it and go exploring?

In truth, he did not actually want to go. It was more of a duty to his family and friends from Lórien and to these simple folk of Celos Galen. They had no idea what dangers lay in store for them at some point in the future. Because he did know what was to come, he felt obliged to plan for their future. But it was a future he fully intended to share with them.

When the tune ended, Gilwen set aside his harp and expressed her own appreciation. When she finished with his lips, she pushed him back to lie in the grass, her silver hair spreading in a glory across his chest as her head rested on his shoulder.

“When will you tell me what troubles you, my love?”

He chuckled, but did not ask how she knew. She always seemed to know his mood and many times knew his heart as well without him telling her.

“Do you intend to go with the new warriors when they return to their settlements? I know you had invitations from their chieftains and you have kept the warriors far longer than their chieftains had imagined you would.”

He tightened his arms around her. “I needed to be certain that they not only had the skill of arms but also an understanding of strategy so they could plan how best to defend their settlements.”

“I know that daeradar is pleased with the suggestions you have made for protecting Celos Galen. He has implemented many of them already and intends to do more. He will not be pleased if you stay away for very long.”

Haldir looked over at her. “Saelon will not be pleased if I am gone for very long or you will not be pleased if I am gone for very long?”

Gilwen smiled. “Both. Unless I go with you in which case I at least will not care how long you are away from Celos Galen so long as we are together.”

The sigh escaped before he could stop himself.

“You do not wish for me to go with you?”

“It is not that exactly…” he squirmed uncertainly. He had not planned on having this conversation with her this soon.

She propped herself up on her elbow, looking down on him somewhat imperiously. “Exactly what is it then? Do you intend to never return? Will you try to find a way back to Lothlórien? Where will you go?”

Haldir sat up, struggling to regain some control of the discussion. “I…I…”

“Have I done something to offend you, Haldir?” She sat up as well. “Do you not love me enough to stay?” She drew her knees up to her chest and wrapped her arms around her legs, whispering, “What happened, Haldir? What happened?”

He looked at her dumbfounded. What had happened? One moment they lay together in bliss and the next…this!

“Gilwen…” he put his hands on her shoulders and sighed again, trying to figure out where to begin. Placing two fingers under her chin, he lifted it to look into her sad eyes.

“Gilwen, I still love you and I will always love you. Never doubt that and never forget it. Do you understand?” She nodded and he lowered his hand back to her shoulder. “I am going to go to the other settlements. In addition to the reasons I have already given you, I will also be making maps of those areas. The more informed we are about the lay of the land around each settlement the better we can defend the settlements and the longer each may be able to stay where they are now. Do you understand?”

She nodded again, placing her hands on his. “Why can I not go with you? What else are you not telling me?”

“I do not intend to return to Celos Galen immediately. We…my brethren of Lothlórien and I…are going to explore beyond the edge of the forest. It would not be proper for you to be with us.”

Gilwen looked at him confused. “How would it not be proper? You love me, do you not?”

“Yes,” he replied exasperated. “I told you that I love you.”

“Then I do not understand why it is improper for the elleth that you love to be with you when she loves you so very much as well.”

He drew her hands down in front of them both. “We may be gone for a long time exploring. I do not think that your parents would approve of you being with me so far away from them.”

“They know I love you and they know that you love me. Why should they not trust you to protect me?”

“It is not that I would not protect you,” he clarified. “I would give my life to protect you and keep you from harm.”

“Haldir, you are the one with whom I wish to join myself. I love you and will gladly bear you many children when the time comes. I have chosen you and my parents know this. Perhaps I have not made this clear to you?”

His heart sang for joy, but he did his best to silence it. It still took him a few moments to regain the ability to speak. “I…I wish that as well…”

He startled himself with the realization that this was indeed true. He had known for some time now that she was the one for him, but he had no intention of telling her until a respectable amount of time had passed for him to be able to approach her parents and ask for their permission to wed her. Of course he had no idea as to how many years that would be by their reckoning, so he resigned himself to simply wait and enjoy what was allowed him. However, being away exploring would make the time pass more quickly and perhaps when he returned, her parents would be more amenable to his suit. By then he could prove his worth in several settlements, he would have his maps, greater knowledge of the world around him, and he had already proven his wisdom, strength, and courage. What reason could they possibly give for not giving their blessing then?

Gilwen regarded him curiously. “My love, if you share my feelings as well, then what problem is there with my accompanying you? I truly do not understand. I have been to the edge of the forest before and I have been to all of the settlements numerous times. I am a healer and I know all of the folk of each settlement. I was good with a bow before, but am even better now that I have been guided by your hand. Why would my parents frown upon my going with you?”

Haldir was dumbfounded! “Have you no sense of propriety?”

She smiled at him strangely. “I have done nothing of which to be ashamed, nor would my going with my beloved bring any shame upon me or my kin or upon you for that matter.”

He glared at her dubiously. “I find that very hard to believe.”

“If these are your ways in Lothlórien, they are strange indeed! My people would find it odd and shameful for you if you did not take me with you.  They know you care for me greatly and that I care for you.”

They stared at each other in disbelief until she finally shook her head and looked away. She rose gracefully and offered him her hand to help him up. “If these are the ways of Lothlórien, it must be filled with many sad and lonely people. I see why you left.”

Too confused to reply, Haldir took her hand and they walked back to their talan in silence.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Haldir smiled smugly at the thud of the arrow in the target nearly 400 yards away. Pausing only long enough to draw another arrow, he continued to fire. He had been at this for hours or so it seemed by the position of the stars last time he checked. When he finished with his arrows and those of his brothers and other three friends, he would retrieve them all from the target, which admittedly was becoming more difficult to hit in an empty space with so many arrows in it already, and start again.

He had missed one meal already today (he did not care for turns of the stars anyway and it was ridiculous that they did not have days) but he simply did not care. He just kept on shooting. He could stop and make some more arrows, but he found the repetition of firing therapeutic and a healing balm for his troubled fae. For four turns of the stupid stars he had practiced like this after drilling the troops from all of the settlements.

Rúmil and Orophin knew that something was troubling him, but they wisely kept their distance, though he knew that would not last for much longer. He would have to speak to someone at some point other than to bark orders or correct or commend technique. Gilwen had not spoken to him since their time at the falls and he had not attempted to speak to her either.

He did miss her, far more than he believed he could miss anyone. But he was too confused and troubled to attempt to speak with her again. So, he did what he did best when he was troubled, he destroyed targets with arrows. He had completely destroyed eight targets so far which was not bad for only four days. Even in Lórien, he had never managed to destroy so many targets in so little time.

Admittedly, these new long bows they had finally perfected were not the same as the ones from Lórien. There was no mallorn readily available to make the bows, so they had made some compromises. Still, he found that the end result felt almost as pleasing in its aim, power, and strong supple lines as a bow from his homeland and the range was nearly the same. It did please him that the other Galadhrim had not the strength yet to draw let alone fire what the new warriors referred to as the “Lórien longbow”.

These were an ignorant and backward people after all and there were times when he enjoyed feeling superior to them. Of course those times were often followed by some major mistake on his part where they duly condemned him for his lack of sense or knowledge about “simple” things. He deserved those times and they kept his arrogance in check though usually at inconvenient moments. However, he did enjoy the times of being superior as well – especially when he was brooding and irritated like he was now.

He emptied another quiver and tossed it aside as he grabbed the next full one. Only 60 arrows to go and he would have to retrieve again. It was not fair. He would have to make more arrows and have the others do the same. It was becoming too irritating stopping so often to retrieve spent arrows.

“Impressive.”

Haldir nearly jumped out of his skin, but hid his reaction with an over exaggerated shrug of his shoulders.  He was so busy brooding and shooting, he was not paying attention to his surroundings.  Had he been one of his own recruits, he would have been reprimanded and lectured for lack of awareness. As it was, he would punish himself with more target practice.

He carefully released an arrow, landing it neatly in a tiny open space on the upper part of the target, then looked over his shoulder to see Damrod standing a few paces away with his arms crossed.

“So, tell me, did you and your friends have a competition to see who could make the biggest bow and you won?” Damrod laughed at his own jest. “It has been most entertaining watching the six of you try out so many new bows – each one longer than the last. I am very surprised that Angaril did not try to make one out of metal.”

“That is for the Numenoreans to do,” Haldir muttered irritably, choosing another arrow.

“Numenoreans? Is that some clan of the dwarves perhaps?” Damrod asked curiously.

“Yes, yes it is,” Haldir agreed, the lie reflecting his mood. “And they are just as obsessive and arrogant as any clan of dwarves which I have ever encountered in my travels.”

“Interesting.”

Damrod stood in silence for a while longer, Haldir very aware of his eyes on his back while he shot.

Haldir emptied the quiver and selected another one. Resisting the urge to sigh, he asked without looking over his shoulder, “Is there something you wanted, Damrod?”

“Actually I thought there was something that you wanted.”

“Not particularly,” he fired another arrow careful not to shave the feathers off any of the others in the already crowded target. He would need to make a larger target to accommodate his extra arrows.

“I refer to Gilwen.”

Haldir’s next shot went wide. “What about her?”

“Do you love her?”

Haldir lowered the bow and turned to look at Damrod. This was not what he was expecting.

“Yes, sir, I do,” he replied simply.

“Why have you two not spoken for four turns of the stars?”

“You noticed,” Haldir said.

“Of course I noticed. I am her adar. It is my job to notice these things,” Damrod replied intentionally paraphrasing one of Haldir’s warriors.

Haldir nodded grimly realizing he was not going to get out of this discussion lightly.

“Why are you not speaking to each other?”

“We had a disagreement.”

“About…” Damrod encouraged.

Haldir stuck the bow in the ground and leaned against it. “We argued about whether or not she could come with me when I accompany the new warriors when they return to their settlements. She did not understand that for the sake of propriety, it would not be appropriate for her to accompany me.  I do not know how long I will be gone.”

“For the sake of propriety?!” Damrod exclaimed. “How is it improper for two who love each other to be together? Your relationship with each other is no secret.”

Haldir sighed trying to figure out how to explain what should be so very obvious. “Damrod, do you not worry about your daughter’s honor or your own? Does it not worry you that she would be in my company away from you?”

“Haldir, I swear, sometimes I wonder how you could be an ellon of the Galadhrim for the questions you ask!” Damrod threw up his hands in exasperation. “Do you love my daughter?”

“Yes, of course!” Haldir snapped.

Damrod leveled a steely gaze on Haldir. “Would you put her safety above your own?”

“I would give my life to defend and protect her.”

“Do you wish to join with her and have children with her?”

Haldir did not even pause before answering. “Yes.”

“Then tell me, Haldir, why would you be willing to be away from her for so long?”

“I fear for her safety. We are going to explore the edge of the forest and beyond. It would not be proper for me to take her away with me for so long when she is not my wife.”

It was Damrod’s turn to sigh. “Haldir, you worry so much about propriety and doing what is proper. Yet there is little you could do to shame her or us more than going away for so long and leaving her behind. Do the ellyn of Lothlórien treasure their ellith so little that they…they leave them behind? No ellon I know of the Galadhrim would ever conceive of leaving behind the elleth he loves if there were anything he could do to prevent such a parting.”  He shook his fists in frustration. “Haldir, how can you not understand this? How can you claim to be so concerned with propriety when you are so ignorant of what is proper?”

Haldir stared at the ellon in shock. “How can I…” he said faintly. “Damrod, how can you let your daughter go with someone who she has known for so little time? How do you know her feelings are true? How do you know she has made the right choice? How do you know I am worthy of her?”

Damrod turned away, breathing heavily, his hands on his hips. After what could have been a good solid count to ten or even twenty, he turned back and faced Haldir.

“Son,” he said emphasizing the word. “I was one of the ones who found you. I have known you ever since you first came here. You have proven yourself capable and strong and resourceful, though not as wise as I would have liked if this conversation is anything to judge by. I would be proud to call you son. I have watched you with my daughter and spoken with her many times about you. I know her feelings for you. I know your feelings for her. Every time you two go away to the falls, I look into your eyes and hers and listen to your voices upon your return, hoping to notice the change and… I have not seen it. I just…”

He paused, gesturing at Haldir in exasperation. “Haldir, what are you waiting for?

“What?!” Haldir asked incredulously. “There…there is no way we have waited the appropriate amount of time for courting or…your approval…or-“

“My approval?!  Haldir, I thought I had been rather obvious! I have had every opportunity to stop you two going off together and I have never done so. What more approval do you want from me? As for an appropriate amount of time courting…are you ready for the commitment of marriage? Gilwen is. Who do you think you will impress by waiting any longer?”

Haldir stared at the ellon completely at a loss for words. He started to gesture a few times, but could not quite form words. At last he managed, “Damrod, would you be ah encouraging me in this union if I were not going away?”

Damrod wiped his hand across his face and through his hair taking a couple of deep breaths. “I would be willing to wait a little while longer before having this conversation with you if you were not going away, but not munch longer. The fact remains that you two love each other and through some misguided sense of propriety as you keep putting it, you will not consummate this love. It sounds to me as if in Lothlórien lovers are required to wait a time before marrying and many approvals are required and …perhaps other things I do not know. But these are not the ways of any Galadhrim I have ever known.” He gripped Haldir’s limp shoulders and shook him as he met his disbelieving gaze.

“You are in Celos Galen now and are expected to abide by the rules of our society as a member of this society. So I ask you again, Haldir of Celos Galen, what are you waiting for?”

He released the numb ellon and stepped back, bumping the bow which fell to the ground completely forgotten. “You and I will speak of this again after the next meal, my son. And I expect you to have an answer for me.”

With that, Damrod turned on his heel and left a most bewildered Haldir staring stupidly after him.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Note: When elves consummate a marriage, there is a change in their voices and in their eyes which marks them as married.

 Never before had so much been said by six ellyn using only exaggerated gestures, non-vocalizing mouths, and shocked facial expressions as was conveyed in Rumil’s talan when Haldir finished recounting his tale. As soon as Haldir had recovered enough to remember how to walk and figure out where to go, he had found his comrades and told them of his conversations with Gilwen days before and just then with Damrod.

For once, no one had any advice to offer, no jokes, no bantering back and forth. Merely stunned silence. And that summed it up more accurately than anything: Stunned silence.

In truth, Haldir did not know what frightened him more: Damrod’s ultimatum or the silence of his brethren.

It was not supposed to happen this way. He had had things all figured out: the maps, the exploration, the warriors from Celos who would accompany him, how much time he would spend in each settlement before moving to the next and then on to exploring, the provisions needed, the suit he would make to Damrod and Gwilwileth asking for their daughter’s hand in marriage, the proof that he was worthy. It was to be neat and orderly and irrefutable and according to his timeline and his design.

But now none of that mattered. Or very little of it mattered. Plans and provisions and timelines would have to be refigured. He was supposed to have weeks – months even to plan his future with Gilwen so he would be all prepared when he returned. But now…What was he going to do?

How? Where? What would he say to her? Where would he take her to…to…make her his own? Was he ready for this commitment? And what was he going to say to her adar?!

And how come his comrades had nothing to say to him – at all?

He would start there.

“How come you are all so very silent? No one has joked. No one has invited me to eat with him to delay meeting my doom with Damrod. No one has offered advice helpful or otherwise,” Haldir leveled his pleading gaze on each of them as he gestured helplessly. “I really need you now. Why will you not speak to me? I beg of you. At least say something to me! I really need your help.”

Not one would meet Haldir’s eyes.

“Oh, come now!” he begged. “You want me on my knees so you can gloat over me? Very well then.” He shifted to kneel before them in supplication. “I am on my knees. Please speak to me. Please help me. Tell me what to do.”

No one moved except for Angaril who kept rocking back and forth, shaking his head, mouth agape. Finally HE at least responded to Haldir, but his only comment was to repeat over and over again in horror. “Dear Eru, I am next. Dear Eru, I am next.”

“I am doomed,” Haldir whispered aloud to himself. “I am doomed.”

XXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Overwhelmed by this sense of doom, Haldir left the talan and started walking, hoping to gain some sort of perspective on his problem and perhaps find an answer for himself before he had to meet with Damrod again. He wandered past the practice area, his new bow still lying forgotten on the ground where he had abandoned it, the target full of arrows, the pile of other destroyed targets which he would have to dispose of at some point. Beyond the fleeting glance which identified the mess as his, he ignored what he saw and continued on.

He stopped when he came to the water. The falls sounded nearby, condemning him for he knew not what other transgressions he unintentionally had committed against these Galadhrim. Perhaps they were telling him of the other ways in which he had made a fool of himself – ways of which he was previously unaware.

What had happened? He seemed to ask himself that question a lot since arriving in Celos Galen. And what was he to do now?

His love for Gilwen was not in question nor was the commitment he longed to make to her. He simply did not like being rushed. He had his plans and…they were not acceptable to anyone else. What was he to do?

The Sindar believed in waiting for a time and gaining approvals for marriage and then joining and telling everyone about it after the deed was done. He was NOT a Sinda though, he was of the Galadhrim and their customs were…

He paused in thought, bending over and hurling a stone into the water. He did not like the skip on it so he hurled another one and watched it skip ten times before sinking. That was more like it.

The customs of his Galadhrim obviously were heavily influenced by the Sindar after at least three thousand years of cohabitation with them in Lothlórien. Not to mention the influence of the Noldor who insisted on wedding ceremonies for all to see and marriage contracts and approvals and the passage of certain amounts of time.

Was he more Sinda than an ellon of the Galadhrim?!

The thought horrified him.

He picked up a heavy river-rounded rock and threw it as hard as he could, relishing the sound of the deep thunk as it hit the water.

That was exactly how he felt. He was a large well-formed stone, set and solid in his shape and ways and beliefs and mission. Then someone carelessly hefted him and threw him into the darkness of a deep rushing stream and left him there to drown in the ebb and flow of the water.

And that is exactly what he was doing now: he was drowning, overwhelmed by a culture that he thought was his, overwhelmed by feelings that were new to him, overwhelmed by the prospects of this new life and even better things that could be his now.

Perhaps his rock had the right idea.

Haldir closed his eyes, listening to the rush of the falls until he felt the churning of the water in his fae. The fish below were indeed rather irritated at the sudden intrusion of rocks into their home waters. A breeze blew across the water, lifting over the bank and up to the scrubby bushes beside the stream. The bushes rustled with delight at the soft touch of the wind. Chipmunks scurried away at the intrusion, concerned about their food and their babies in the hole at the base of the tree. Other small animals sniffed at the breeze, enjoying the new scents coming from the other side of the stream. The trees reached out to him, their mirth surprising him but not half as much as suddenly hitting the chill waters surprised him.

Angrily he opened his eyes and stood up. Turning with a stream of his own filled with curses directed at his brothers, he stopped dead as soon as he saw Gilwen standing on the bank. With a very self-satisfied smirk on her face, she made a show of wiping her hands together.

He growled in anger as he dripped great falls of water from his clothes, hair, and limbs. She crossed her arms in response, pure arrogant pride staring back at him in triumph.

“At least I got some words out of you, finally. I shall have to keep this in mind the next time you think to ignore me and not speak to me for so many turns of the stars.”

Haldir glared at her, his fury stewing inside of him.

“Silent as a stone once again, I see,” she observed with a shake of her head. “Tis most unfortunate. I am bid tell you to come to the meal. If you come now, you will have enough time to dry off and change before we eat.” With that, she turned on her heel and strode off back toward the settlement.

Haldir had little choice but to follow.

XXXXXXXXXXXXX

Obviously, Gilwen thought she would make it farther than she did before Haldir caught up with her – if she even had intended for him to catch up.  Judging from the way she ran through the trees, he did not think she believed he would catch up. She also obviously thought that the way he had caught her and thrown her over his shoulder as he turned around and marched right back toward the falls was uncalled for as well.

His back was going to be bruised – right over top of the scar of course – but he really did not care. She deserved this.  He did not think that he necessarily deserved the punches on his back though.  Well, perhaps he did seeing as how the way he was carrying her was most undignified.  Likewise the curses she was spouting (he was impressed with her creativity in that area) probably were deserved as well.

“Haldir! Do not dare!” was the last thing she uttered before he put his weight behind throwing her from his shoulder into the water.

The next thing he uttered was more of a surprise really, for she had a hold of his belt when he let go of her. For the second time, he found himself in the pool below the falls.

She splashed him in the face when he stood up to breathe, so he retaliated with a splash of his own. And the battle commenced.

Needless to say, if the fish had been unhappy with Haldir throwing rocks into their home, they were very upset indeed about all of the splashing, especially the fish she hit him with, slapping him hard on the side of the face.

Haldir stopped splashing and put his hand on his cheek. “You hit me with a fish!” he exclaimed indignantly.  “That hurt!”

“Well you threw me into the water,” she shot back, dropping the traumatized fish back into the pool.

“After you pushed me into the water,” he said still somewhat in shock. He had been struck by many things in his lifetime, but no one had ever hit him with a live fish!

She waded forward, thoroughly soaked to the skin and placed her hand on his face. He tried to turn away from her, but she caught his arm and moved his hand away.

“You hit me with a fish!” He said again.

“Yes, I know,” she patiently replied. “Let me see your face, I think you are bleeding.”

“What?!” he drew his hand away and looked at it confused, seeing blood mixed with water on his hand. “I am bleeding?” More indignation filled his voice. “You smacked me in the face with a fish and now I am bleeding?”

“Well,” she attempted to defend herself. “Fish have sharp fins and gills.” 

“Oh, do they now?” he asked sarcastically.

“Well, think of how the poor fish feels!”

“Oh? Well how do you think I feel, Gilwen?”

“Well…” she answered back more kindly. “It actually feels to me as if you might need a few stitches.”

“No, I do not.”

“Yes, I think you do.”

“No! Absolutely not!”

She nodded with a tight-lipped smile. “I really think that you do.”

He backed away from her, tripping over a rock, but catching himself before he fell. “You are not going to stitch this.”

“Haldir,” she pleaded, “if you allow me to stitch it, then the scar will fade much more quickly. Otherwise, you may bear the reminder of your beloved smacking you in the face with a fish for the rest of your life. So what shall it be?”

He glared at her with his hand pressed to his cheek to try to stop the bleeding. Somehow he did not feel as if he looked very intimidating standing there sopping wet in the middle of the pool with blood dripping down the side of his face.

She made her way out of the water and extended her hand to him to help him out as well.  He took the proffered hand, once again wondering how he kept ending up in such strange and difficult situations.

Haldir did not fail to notice how her soaked clothing clung to her curves. He also found he did mind at all when she put her arm around him, holding him close as she led him back to the talan. Somehow she managed to still look beautiful in spite of everything they had just done to each other. He most likely only managed to look pitiful, but Gilwen…Gilwen looked incredible.

He took a deep breath, trying to clear his thoughts of the images and desires flashing through his mind and body. He sighed and she held him closer. Unable to resist a smile (which pained him where the fish had sliced his skin), he realized he now had an answer for Damrod when they spoke after the meal and after the stitches and the laughter which undoubtedly would accompany any explanation they might try to give for his injury.

The answer would be “Very soon.”

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Chapter 12

Haldir tried not to scowl. For one thing, it hurt. For another, Damrod kept glancing over at him as if trying decide between reading in him an answer to the discussion they were soon to have and figuring out how Haldir had received his latest wound. Then there was Brethil, Gilwen’s brother, who regaled them throughout the meal with tales of fishing with his friends. And lastly and worst of all, they were having fish as the entree.

As the meal ended, Brethil commented, “You have been quiet lately, Haldir. I noticed that you left the practice area somewhat in disarray and that your brethren were nowhere to be seen. Has something happened that we should know about?”

Haldir shifted uncomfortably.

“And what happened to your face? Did you miss a parry?” (Gilwen snorted spectacularly into her drink at that and mouthed a silent apology to her disapproving family as she wiped her face) “Is that why you left the practice area as it is? My sister must have taken her time stitching you up. She did a very fine job with it though. Would you like my help cleaning up the practice area after we finish eating?”

Brethil would make a fine brother, Haldir thought. He was much nicer to him that his brothers by blood.

Damrod answered before Haldir could. “Haldir and I have some matters to discuss. He will join you there afterward.”

Brethil smiled and shook his head, shooting Haldir a sympathetic look. “Yes, of course.”

Once Brethil left, Gwilwileth and Gilwen busied themselves with cleaning up after the meal. Damrod reclined comfortably on furs on the other side of the bole from the eating area, the candle light playing across his features, making him look rather feline and dangerously feral. Haldir sat stiffly as if at attention across from him.

“You have had some time to think on our discussion earlier. What have you decided?” Damrod asked without preamble.

Haldir met his steely gaze and endured it for what he felt was an honorable amount of time before looking away. “I will act soon,” he finally said.

“How soon?”

“I do not appreciate the pressure you are putting on me concerning this decision,” Haldir quietly exclaimed. “It is unfair that you press me so on this. I have endured much since I have arrived here and I…I just…”

Damrod raised his hand to silence Haldir. “Haldir, I understand. But I do not see how I am rushing you. I am relieving you of the need you seem to feel to delay. You worry about so many unnecessary things for one of the Galadhrim. I would swear you had other influences than just the ways of the Galadhrim when you were in Lothlórien. I simply do not understand why an ellon would trouble himself over the things which seem to trouble you so.” He paused taking a sip of his cup of wine.

“Life is far simpler than you seem to comprehend, which I find most unusual in one who has seen as many ennin as you say you have. Your eyes betray the large number of them which you have seen as they speak to me of trial and weariness and times which lie heavily upon you. You may even have seen more ennin than my adar who lived long by Cuiviénen before I was born. I would guess that your kin left at the time that the Minyar did or perhaps even before. Some of the Third Clan did depart early, desiring the trees to the promise of a land of light brighter than the stars somewhere far away. Perhaps this explains the troubling times in Lothlórien you have described to us. Perhaps things would have gone better for your folk and there would have been no need for warriors or mustering or…or battle if they had but waited to depart.”

Damrod reached over and shook Haldir’s knee, interrupting his silent brooding.

“Well, we are here and living in the present. Is there anything more that you need from me to help you proceed with your decision?”

Haldir sat in silence for a moment gathering his thoughts and stealing a glance across the room at Gilwen. Her wet hair snaked down her back in a long braid leaving a damp streak on the back of her dress. He smiled to himself at the thought of how they both got so wet. He had definitely met his match in her and he knew beyond all doubt that there would be no other for him but her.

Giving a great sigh, he finally asked, “Where do you suggest we go to do this?”

Damrod smiled encouragingly. “You seem to have an affinity for the falls. Perhaps there? Or if you desire more privacy, then in the cave behind the downpour of the falls. You will hear only the music of the water and any music you make yourselves there.”

Haldir nodded nervously. “Thank you.” He drained his previously untouched cup of wine in one go.

As he set the cup down, Damrod commented, “You still have not told me when.”

“Soon,” Haldir replied feeling much more comfortable with his decision. “Very soon.”

“Fair enough,” Damrod acquiesced. “I look forward to adding such a fine son as you to my house.”

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Haldir’s brothers and friends still made a point of avoiding him, obviously hoping that by not associating with him, they would not be forced into taking the next step in their relationships as well. He really did not mind their absence at all. There were no uncomfortable explanations of the stitches on his face and he did not have to tell them about the meeting with Damrod.

This suited Haldir just fine and would make it all the more pleasurable for him when he told them of his marriage to Gilwen after the fact. It served them right for not being of any help to him when he needed it most. Then, with Gilwen securely at his side, he would watch with unabashed delight as his brothers and friends struggled before succumbing to the pressure one by one. They would need to hurry and give in to the inevitable though, so the exploration could get underway, albeit with six more added to the party than he had originally planned. Surprisingly, he realized he did not mind at all the impending extra company.

He remembered his naneth and his adar talking wistfully of a time when there would be wives for each of their sons and many grandchildren for themselves. None of them had planned on his adar and so many of their kin dying in the Last Alliance or his naneth and the rest sailing West in sorrow unassuaged. He closed his eyes for a few moments in remembered grief.

What would it matter if he had children in Lothlórien in the Third Age or in Celos Galen before the First Age? His parents, many generations of grandparents, and everyone else were gone, never to be seen again until he died or sailed West.

A smile crept across his face as he opened his eyes and resumed packing his harp, a blanket, some wine, and some food. The best way he could honor his departed kin was to continue on as he now planned, and see to it that he and his brothers were happily married with many children to present to the delighted abundance of grandparents when they finally met again sometime in the far distant future. They would walk among the mellyrn in Valinor and share many stories of all that had transpired while they were apart. Haldir smiled even wider as he realized that the stories he and his brothers would have to tell would be the best ones of all.

A hand slipped across his shoulder and down his arm to entwine with his fingers. He looked over at Gilwen’s questioning eyes. Gently, she brushed her finger across his uninjured cheek, drawing back something wet and glistening.

“What are you thinking about, my love?” She asked.

Surprised, he reached up and dabbed at his eyes, staring in wonder at the tears on his fingers as he realized his thoughts had stirred him more deeply than he expected. Embarrassed, he wiped his face with his sleeves, wincing when he brushed against the stitches.

“I was just wishing that my parents and kin could meet you, and wondering...” He had not told her of his kin who sailed West for such a concept did not yet exist here. It was easier to simply tell her they were all gone and let her draw her own conclusions.

She smiled back consolingly. “You must miss them all very much. I am sorry that you lost them. When the Great Hunter came to us at Cuiviénen, he told us tales of many things. One of the things that my daernaneth’s naneth told her that he said was that there is a…a place that the spirits of those who die go to where they find healing. And…after their time of healing, they are returned to their own bodies made new, though I know not where this happens nor how for none I have met or heard of have ever seen one who has died and returned. Did you ever hear of this tale?”

Haldir nodded, surprised that Orome had told the first elves of this. He had learned much of Mandos and Lord Námo from the Noldor and the details of being reborn from one of the Reborn -- Lord Glorfindel of Imladris.

Deciding it would not hurt to educate her further, he added, “Indeed I, too, have heard such tales as well. I was told that the place the spirits go is called Mandos. A brother of the Great Hunter named Námo tends to the spirits until they are hale and ready to live again. I have known those who lay dying who have heard the call of Mandos. I believe their spirits fled with Námo at their deaths.  I also have heard that the place where those born anew go to live again is in the distant West in Valinor where Araw the Great Hunter lead those of the clans who would leave these lands and follow him over the sea. I believe the tales to be true.”

Gilwen looked on him in wonder, smiling tremulously. “Do you believe then that those who I have lost, my adar’s brothers being but the latest, and those who you have lost live again or will live again with the other clans? Do you think that a time may come when we may see all of them again?”

Haldir took her into his embrace, smiling into her hair. “I do indeed believe that with all of my heart. It may be many ennin in coming, but I know in my heart beyond all doubt that it will happen.”

She nestled further into his embrace. “Ever I wonder at you, Haldir. You know so many things that only the eldest and wisest know. I am grateful for the many things which I learn from you,” She paused a moment, then added, smiling against his chest, “And yet… there are so many simple things which you know naught about.”

He chuckled, feeling the blood rush to his face at this reminder that he ever seemed to straddle the fence between being great and wise and being a very great fool. “And I am grateful for the many things which I learn from you. I love you so much. Thank you for appreciating what I do know and for putting up with all of the simple things that I do not know and all of the foolish mistakes I make.”

“I love you, too,” she replied, laughter bubbling in her musical voice. “And I am sorry that I hit you with the fish.”

“I still do not think that I deserved to be hit with that fish, but I forgive you.” He drew back and kissed her tenderly.

When they finally drew apart, Gilwen smiled mischievously. “Well, since you think you did not deserve to be hit with “that” fish, I guess I will have to find the fish that you did deserve to be hit with and keep it nearby for when you deserve to be slapped again.”

Haldir glared at her affronted. “Gilwen! You--” he started, then lunged as she tried to get away, wrestling her to the floor and tickling her until she begged for mercy.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

He really should have been used to things not going as he expected by now. However an overdeveloped sense of being captain kept making him try to plan things down to the last detail. The lovely tune he had composed for her on harp was to be played for her before not after. The stars were to be bright overhead. It was not supposed to rain.

Fortunately, the cave behind the falls provided a nice shelter from the storm (when did he lose his keen awareness of impending changes in the weather?). Their thorough soaking by the time they reached the cave rather heavily influenced the change in the intended order of events. At least the blanket and the harp had remained dry and the food unspoiled.

By the time they left for home, the rain had ceased, the stars peeking through the clouds to smile upon their joy. Haldir contentedly held his harp wrapped in the blanket in one arm and his rather giddy Gilwen securely at his side with the other. Of course his brothers were the first ones they encountered as they entered the village.

“You two have been rather scarce of late,” Haldir said by way of greeting.

Rúmil and Orophin both shrugged uncomfortably. “Yes, well…” Rúmil answered. “We were rather hoping to escape the fate which so soon awaits you.”

“Ah, I see,” Haldir grinned unabashedly, pulling Gilwen a little bit closer. “Well, I wish you both luck with that.”

Gilwen smiled mischievously and put her hand on Haldir’s face, making a show of pulling him toward her and giving him a deep and very passionate kiss. When she finished, she looked over at his brothers and added sweetly, “Yes, good fortune to you both in that endeavor, my brothers.”

Giggling quietly, Haldir and Gilwen made it four steps past the other two when a stern voice called, “Daro, Haldir!”

Haldir trembled, biting his lips hard so he would not laugh out loud and slowly turned himself and Gilwen to face his brothers.

“Yes, Orophin,” he replied calmly in the tongue of the Galadhrim, ignoring his brother’s use of Sindarin. “Was there something you needed?”

“Come here!” Not a request of their captain, but an order for their brother.

The couple took two steps forward, closing the gap.

“Yes?” Gilwen’s lovely voice asked expectantly.

The brothers looked them up and down obviously taking in their damp and slightly disheveled appearance, their freshly combed wet hair, and lastly their eyes.

“What have you done?!” Now it was the voice of a warrior interrogating trespassers and not that of a kind younger brother.

“We have done many things, Orophin,” Gilwen replied innocently, her bright blue eyes wide and pretty.

“Haldir!” They both exclaimed at the same time. The string of curses which followed his name was most impressive.

Now it was Haldir’s turn to be stern. “I will not have either of you speak so in front of my wife even if she does not speak Sindarin and did not understand a word of what you said.”

“Your–“ Rúmil sputtered, followed by much silent mouthing of half-formed words and many gestures from both brothers.

Gilwen and Haldir both smiled triumphantly. “Yes,” Haldir replied with much emphasis. “MY WIFE.”

When words finally came out again, Rúmil asked faintly, “Why did you not say anything to us about this?”

“Are we not your brothers? Do we not discuss these things? Especially something as important as...as this?” Orophin gestured in exasperation to the happy couple.

Haldir gave his best thoughtful look. “I believe I did try to discuss this with you. As I recall, you two and our other brethren were silent and most unhelpful to me, so I acted on my own in my own time as I best saw fit.”

His brothers glared at him in speechless disbelief.

Gilwen disengaged herself from Haldir’s arm and went to each brother, standing on her toes, and giving each a peck on the cheek.

“Welcome to the family, my brothers,” she said smiling sweetly. Then she took Haldir’s arm and turned him around, drawing him back down the path toward their talan, both of them laughing loudly with delight.

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Minyar – the original name for the Vanyar

Ennin – a period of 144 years

Daro – halt or stop

A Note on the Clans of Elves: The First Clan was the Minyar later called the Vanyar and they all went to Valinor and were the first to leave for Valinor. The Second Clan was the Tatyai and those of that clan that went to Valinor were called the Noldor. They were in the second group to depart for Valinor. The Third Clan was composed of everybody else: the Teleri who went to Valinor, the Sindar, the Galadhrim, the Green elves, and so on.

Chapter 13

The river flowed swiftly past them, a wide and deep torrent. It was no wonder that it served as such a significant dividing line between Beleriand and what lay beyond. One of the edair from the eastern most settlement led them many turns of the stars beyond that village’s borders to bring them to this river. All of the Galadhrim in the three settlements had crossed this river or their families had when they came to Beleriand. At least Haldir had a point of reference now in determining where they were. This was the river Gelion, the elder told them, and across it lay the land called Ossiriand where Denethor son of Lenwë was lord.

The problem was Haldir and his brethren still had no idea how far they were from Doriath or exactly where they were along the Gelion. First they had travelled south to the settlement nearest to Celos Galen in order to map that area and see the new warriors from that settlement safely returned to their homes. They then had turned north and east, journeying for many turns of the stars until they reached the furthest settlement east of Celos Galen. None of the maps Haldir and his comrades had seen before Helm’s Deep told how many leagues it was from different points on the Gelion to Doriath.

Now after much travelling and exploration with warriors from the other settlements, they had detailed maps of those parts of the forest inhabited by the Galadhrim, the makings of another fine map which included all three communities spanning all the way east to the Gelion and west to the edge of Celos Galen, but they had only a slightly better understanding of their map of Beleriand. Perhaps when they travelled far enough west again to reach the edge of the forest, they would gain better insight into their exact location in relation to Doriath.

A handful of times during their travels, they discovered creatures of the dark: a few spiders and some foul things for which Haldir had no name. At every encounter, warriors from Lothlórien aided new warriors from the other settlements in attacking and killing the creatures, such that more warriors sported braids upon reaching their homes than they had when they first left on the journey. For the most part though, the travelling was unhurried and uneventful.

Haldir was surprised to discover that he enjoyed the exploration.  This forest was so young and vibrant.  The trees delighted in the passing of his band of elves everywhere they travelled. He himself felt so very young and fresh and alive, it was difficult not to rejoice in the long journey. Songs came easily to his lips and many tunes flowed from his harp as he walked. This was what it was like to be an elf before the Dark Days and he found that he enjoyed it immensely. Would Valinor feel like this when he finally sailed there? He did not know and was not so certain that he cared any more what Valinor would ultimately be like. The possibility of sailing there seemed so distant and remote now, unlike in the Third Age, and this young forest of Middle-earth was simply glorious.

Sensing his mood, his wife reached up and drew his head down for a passionate kiss. Never breaking stride, he ended the kiss and slipped his arm around her waist, easily lifting her over a fallen log and setting her down again.  Giggling, she leaned in close against his side, wrapping her arms around his waist. He could not help but sigh contentedly.

Gilwen constantly fascinated him with her knowledge of the plants and animals and features of the land. She was well-liked in each of the settlements and well-received not only as the granddaughter of the chieftain of Celos Galen and as Captain Haldir’s wife, but as a highly skilled healer in her own right. Visiting the other settlements at her side, he realized she was a prize much sought after by many ellyn. It flustered and embarrassed him the sense of honor and the great pride that he felt in being the ellon she chose for her husband. He also began to wonder what it was she saw in him that she consented to be his wife when she had so many ellyn from which to choose.

For that matter, what had the other five ellith seen in his brothers and friends that they had chosen them for husbands as well? All six of the ellyn from Lothlórien were considered in general opinion to be wise, well-steeped in lore, skilled crafters in their own right, and mighty warriors. Yet, they all suffered similar short comings which amused and confounded others while greatly embarrassing the six.

Not all of them had wed by the time they left Celos Galen of course, for some things simply cannot and should not be rushed. Only Angaril and Nélliriel had married before departing. The other ellith accompanied their lovers as was expected and proper of ellyn and ellith of this Galadhrim. Haldir still did not approve of this and realized he would have some personal difficulties to overcome in that regard if he ever had any daughters of his own. However, by the time their party reached the second settlement, Haldir’s brothers and their twin friends had all wed their beloveds.

Each of Haldir’s brothers had spoken at length with him before consummating their marriages: Rúmil with Nénwen and Orophin with her cousin Sûlwen.  The twins long had been a holdout, but they finally succumbed after much pressure from the other new wives and from Galadin one of the warriors of Celos Galen who served as a member of the exploration party and who happened to be the great-grandfather of the twins’ prospective wives. When the twins finally gave in, they and their ellith supposedly had gone to gather wood for the cooking fire, but Ferevellon returned with Liniel on his arm and Fereveldir with her sister Lissûliel on his arm – and no fire wood. After that little venture, going to gather firewood became a great cause for teasing, especially if a married couple left to do it and forgot, as the twins had, to actually return with some firewood.

Haldir chuckled to himself, looking around at the other five and their wives as these thoughts occurred to him. He also realized that he had to admit that he and Gilwen had gathered their share of firewood on this venture and endured their share of teasing.

Galadin caught his eye, seeming to perceive his thoughts and came over to walk beside him.

“We have greatly reduced numbers in our party since the warriors of the last settlement left us. I do not think we will be in need of as much wood for our cooking fire at each meal.”

Haldir blushed and bowed his head for a few steps, then pulled his wife a little closer and looked over at Galadin. “You are just jealous that your wife stayed behind in Celos Galen to help with your new twin great-great-grandchildren.”

Galadin laughed. “I admit that I miss her greatly and would not mind a few trips to gather firewood with her.” He paused and winked at Haldir. “But that isn’t why I came over to talk to you. I realize that you and your comrades come from a…ah…more restrained settlement and that you wait for possibly even ennin before having children.”

Concern crept up Haldir’s spine. “This is not your way as well?”

“Actually, no, it is not. When we decide we want a child, we have one. There is no proper amount of time for waiting after marriage. It could be ennin or just a few hundred turns of the stars or even just a few turns of the stars for us. Judging from the very worried expression on your face, I see you did not know this.”

Haldir slowly shook his head, cursing quietly and pushing his wife a little farther away from him though still within the circle of his arm.

Taking a deep breath, Galadin raised his eyebrows and shook his head. “I am very glad that we are having this conversation then. I know that the lovely ellith you Lórien ellyn have claimed can be ah…shall we say…very persuasive. I think it would be prudent for you to have a discussion with the ellyn alone informing them of this difference in our customs and with the ellyn and their wives together. We do not know how long we will be away in these explorations and I for one do not want to be worried about the possibility of caring for pregnant ellith or infants during our journey.”

Nodding his head meaningfully, Haldir quickly replied, “I wholeheartedly agree with you on this. I will say something to them immediately.”

And he did.

The other ellyn were as horrified at the prospects as Haldir, and they all agreed that fewer excursions for firewood might not be a bad idea. The ellith seemed a little pouty after the discussion, but their confounded husbands were quite adamant.

Later, Haldir distinctly overheard the other warriors of Celos Galen thanking Galadin for having “the discussion” with him.  This lead to the realization that it might be best if the captain of the march wardens were present more often than Haldir the happy husband. Gilwen would be displeased, but for the sake and sanity of everyone else, Haldir knew it would be for the best.

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Travelling through an unfamiliar forest made it difficult to judge the distance they were travelling, and having the ellith around made it difficult to concentrate long enough to count strides and track distances. Now that the ellith were brooding and much less giddy, the ellyn of Lórien found it easier to take turns counting their strides as they walked north along the Gelion. After less than one turn of the stars of leisurely walking in the plains beside the river (a distance of about 40 miles), they came to an east-flowing tributary which the elder called the River Duilwen. Once they reached the Duilwen, the elder informed them that had they just walked south for three hours instead of having taken this northerly route, they would have reached another east flowing river called Adurant.

Haldir was grateful for this information, but also a bit irritated as well as he and his comrades checked the map of Beleriand. If the ellon had just answered their questions in more detail earlier, they could have determined where they were on the map without having to walk it. At least they knew now that these elvish settlements were located in the forest in southern Beleriand called Taur-im-Duinath. They also knew that the Adurant was the southernmost river in Ossiriand. After a bit of discussion, they determined that Celos Galen was significantly closer to the River Sirion (which would be key in the interactions of the Noldor once they arrived) than they had realized, and was the closest Galadhrim settlement to Doriath. Between the elder and talking with Galadin, they further determined that from Gelion to the edge of the forest near Celos Galen traveling straight east to west was about 200 miles.  

“This forest is huge,” Angaril commented as they worked on the map a little distance from the rest of the group who still knew nothing of the existence of the map of Beleriand.

“It is far bigger than Lothlórien,” Ferevellon observed. “And I thought we had our hands full with trying to protect Lórien. There are not enough warriors from the three settlements to protect this whole forest.”

“We do not need to protect the whole forest,” Haldir said. “We only need to protect the settlements. In training warriors from each village, teaching strategy, and mapping out their lands for them, we have given them the tools necessary to protect themselves. If I remember my history correctly, even the Noldor will avoid this forest. According to them it was populated by secretive ‘Dark Elves’.”

They all snickered at that.

“The orcs will not avoid it though, will they?” Orophin quietly pointed out.

Haldir shook his head, smiling grimly, “No, they will not. Come to think of it, wolves and other foul creatures will come here as well before the first major battle takes place. However, I think that we still have time to plan for this eventuality. Did you not hear that Denethor is lord of Ossiriand? He is the one who will lead the Green Elves of Ossiriand to aid King Thingol of Doriath when the orcs attack Beleriand in the first battle against Morgoth before the Noldor arrive. Lord Denethor will make a stand and die here before Thingol’s forces can succor him.” He pointed to the hill of Amon Ereb on the map far north of their current position. “Had this invasion of orcs already occurred, I am certain that our guides would have heard about it, orcs would already roam these woods, and the elves here already would have had words in their language for the things of war which we have taught them.”

“Captain, when the time comes, will we go fight when Denethor makes his stand or will we stay here and attempt to protect this forest? We are few even counting the warriors we have trained. Would we really make any difference?” Angaril asked.

Fereveldir added, “We left our home to go fight at Helm’s Deep and, I suppose we made a difference in that battle, but look where it got us? We have wives now and may have children of our own before this great battle ever takes place.”

“We left our homes before to fight the evil which threatened all of the lands, both with the Last Alliance at the end of the Second Age and later at Helm’s Deep,” Orophin countered. “I think that having wives and children to protect is all the more reason to go and fight to assure their future survival. Did we and our edair not go fight to protect our land and kin?”

Haldir glanced over toward the rest of the party, noticing his wife and Galadin approaching them. “We will save this discussion for another time when we have more knowledge to guide us. We do not yet know when we are, only where. It is still entirely possible that Celos Galen and the other settlements will not survive long enough for us to concern ourselves with having to fight in any of the great battles of Beleriand.” With that, he discretely rolled up the map of Beleriand, stashing it away and leaving only the map of the forest settlements visible.

“Haldir!” Galadin called grimly as he neared. “A party of elves approaches from the north. They are still some distance away, but already we can tell that they are not Galadhrim. You seem to know many tongues. Perhaps you will be able to speak to them if they speak not our tongue.”

“We will come at once,” Haldir said. Orophin put away the map as the other four scattered to take defensive positions in case the newcomers were not friendly.

As Haldir strode back with Gilwen and Galadin, he muttered to himself, “And let us hope that Sindarin has not changed that much between now and the Third Age…”

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

The group of a dozen elves, both ellyn and ellith, halted about twenty paces north of Haldir’s position at the front of his own group of warriors and ellith. To the east, the rivers Gelion and Adurant flowed past and, to the west, a few miles of open plains with a few scattered trees. There was little opportunity for cover out in the open like this. The new elves seemed to be taking the measure of the band of Galadhrim, dressed in the typical greens, browns, and greys of the forest. Haldir noted the dark hair and grey eyes of the twelve new elves before him and the more intricate embroidery and brighter hues of blues and reds which adorned their clothing. He smiled ruefully at the thought that of course the first non-Galadhrim elves he encountered would be akin to the Noldor. He could only hope that they would not behave like the Noldor from Valinor.

The leader, an ellon garbed in fine blue travelling clothes and taller than the rest, walked forward a few paces and gave a slight bow. “Mae govannen,” he said in accented Sindarin.

Orophin translated for the Galadhrim from his position slightly behind Haldir.

“Mae govannen,” Haldir replied imitating the bow, his hand resting comfortably on his longbow.

“I believe that is the largest bow I have ever laid eyes on.” The ellon gestured to Haldir’s weapon.

“Thank you,” Haldir replied with an easy grin. “It has exceptional range – about three times that of the bow you carry.”

“Fascinating,” the ellon replied with a nod, seeming to understand the implications that Haldir could have hindered the band’s approach if he had wished.

“I am Haldir of the Galadhrim and these are some of my kin.”

The ellon smiled and nodded in acknowledgement to the group. “I am Curugorn. We are of the Tatyai.”

“I guessed as much by your appearance,” Haldir replied with a nod.

“I am surprised to see the secretive folk of the trees out in the plains where they so easily can be seen and have no place to hide,” Curugorn commented.

Haldir was not certain that he liked the ellon’s tone. “We love the water as well and wished to explore the rivers. What brings you here?”

“We,” he gestured behind him. “My friends and I wished to explore the plains south of the dwarf road. We have been travelling for six turns of the stars now and you are the only other folk we have encountered.”

“I was wondering what would lure one such as you so far from his forge,” Haldir commented.

Curugorn seemed shocked.

“I am surprised you even know the word forge let alone what one is,” the ellon commented haughtily.

“Why is that?” Haldir asked innocently.

“Because you green folk hide in the trees like frightened squirrels all the time. Why I heard you even dwell up among the branches.” The ellon and his friends laughed heartily.

Haldir spoke matter-of-factly, “Friend, not only do I know the word forge and know what one is, I know from the appearance of your hands and the musculature of your arms that you yourself are a smith as are all of the ellyn in your party.”

“Surely you jest. You are a simple tree climber,” the ellon scoffed amidst more laughter from his friends. “You could not possibly have enough familiarity with skilled laborers such as smiths to know such things. Or are you simply guessing because the Tatyai are known for their fine skills as craftsmen?”

“Actually,” Haldir said brightly. “I know from experience. A friend of mine is a smith.”

“Really? Did he make your knife and dinner spoon for you?” The Tatyai laughed again.

“Noooo,” Haldir replied quietly. “He crafted this for me.” He reached over his shoulder and drew his blade which was forged in Lothlórien.

The Tatyai collectively gasped, loudly marveling at the weapon.

Curugorn closed the gap between himself and Haldir, reaching out a hand to touch the weapon. He hesitated, looking questioningly at Haldir for permission which Haldir gave.

“I have never seen its like. This is an amazing long knife!  Look at the temper of the steel! Well balanced! Exquisitely carved handle,” His friends gathered around touching the blade and commenting similarly.

“Is your friend a dwarf?” Curugorn asked curiously.

Many snickers echoed from the Galadhrim after Orophin’s translation as Angaril came forward, arms crossed, an expression of great displeasure on his face. “I most certainly am not a dwarf, though I appreciate the compliment on my craftsmanship.”

The Tatyai ellyn looked him over carefully, realizing he was indeed a smith.

“And, ah…” Haldir added. “This amazing long knife is called a sword. I am surprised that as smiths you do not know the term.”

Curugorn and his companions looked up at Haldir, suitably chagrined.

Curugorn handed the sword back to Haldir and bowed deeply. “My apologies, Haldir of the Galadhrim. Our earlier behavior was most uncalled for.”

“Apology accepted,” Haldir acknowledged with a nod.

“Well, we had best be off,” Curugorn said. “May the stars shine brightly upon you in your journey.”

“And upon you in yours,” Haldir replied.

With that, the group of Tatyai made their way around the Galadhrim giving them a wide berth and continued on their way.

Once the party was out of sight, the Galadhrim collectively turned to Haldir.

“You have done this before,” Galadin said shrewdly.

“Indeed, I have,” Haldir said with a sigh. “Let us be on our way as well.” 

With that, they gathered their things and continued on their journey.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

It did indeed take six turns of the stars to arrive at the dwarf road just as the Tatyai had said. The whole way there, Gilwen kept giving Haldir sidelong glances and whispering with the other new wives who looked differently upon their husbands as well.

Captain Haldir finally gave in to Husband Haldir and took Gilwen aside just before they reached the road.

“You have been very quiet since we encountered the Tatyai. Please tell me what is troubling you,” he asked, taking her hand in his.

She regarded him carefully, lightly tracing her finger down the line of his face from forehead to chin.  “You are different out here. I marvel at how easily you take command and how you dealt with those who scoffed at us. The other ellith have sensed this in their husbands as well. What has changed in you ellyn?”

Haldir smiled, relieved that he had not done anything wrong, or so it seemed anyway. “We were march wardens before we came here. We guarded the borders of Lothlórien for many ennin. In guarding the borders, we had to treat with many folk of different clans and races. I do not take kindly to those who fail to treat me and my kind with the respect we deserve, and I have no qualms about educating those who would scoff at our ways.”

“Beloved, you have a great deal of pride for one who does not know the simple things.” She smiled in return.  “But what you did for us with those Tatyai…they will not look upon our kind with such haughtiness again. You taught them a lesson they well needed to learn. I think they will give more consideration to strangers and not judge so quickly those who are different from them.”

“Pride is a fault of mine, I admit. But I did what I felt was necessary,” Haldir replied.

She threaded her fingers through his hair and drew him down for long kiss. When he leaned away again, she whispered, “Thank you for what you did for us. I am so very proud of you.”

He could not help but smile in return, especially when he heard Rúmil’s rather loud sarcastic comment, “Thank you, Gilwen. There will be no living with him now.”

When the snickers from the others had settled, Angaril gestured ahead of them to the east, commenting in Sindarin, “It has been so very long since I have seen a road…” switching to the language of the Galadhrim, he continued, “This road looks out of place here and so…wrong somehow after seeing such beautiful plains beside the river.”

“It does seem to spoil the land,” Galadin agreed. “However, the dwarves are very efficient and use it to good effect. They put their wares such as metals from the earth into wooden boxes with wheels on them and use animals to drag the boxes along the flat surface of the road. I have travelled here before with one of our smiths to trade for metal and saw the boxes myself. That is what a road is for.” 

The new warriors nodded sagely while Haldir glared harshly at the five from Lórien, silently encouraging them to repress their snickers and any potentially offensive comments lest they answer to him.  Those of Lórien obeyed their leader and silently nodded in acknowledgement of Galadin’s explanation.

“Haldir,” Orophin whispered after a time as he pulled his brother aside. “I have added to the map again. It looks as if we could travel northeast from here, and eventually we would come to Doriath. I am guessing that we could reach there in perhaps 10 days.”

“And what would we do then, Orophin?”

“I do not know. I was merely making an observation. However, we are gaining a better idea of how long it takes to travel these lands. I just thought you would want to know.”

“Thank you, brother,” Haldir replied. “Strangely enough, I find that I am less interested in going there with each passing day. I just want to go home now.”

Orophin looked at him oddly. “To Lórien?”

Haldir smiled a little sadly, “No, to Celos Galen. I want whatever time I can have there with Gilwen, living the way our people were meant to live before we have to leave to fight again.”

Orophin clapped Haldir on the shoulder, “We still need to map the western side of the forest from Celos Galen, but then I, too, wish to settle with my wife and whatever family will be added unto me before Celos Galen is no more.”

Haldir gave his brother a brief hug, then called for the others to turn and head back the way they had come.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Ennin – a period of 144 years

A Note on the Clans of Elves: The First Clan was the Minyai later called the Vanyar and they all went to Valinor and were the first to leave for Valinor. The Second Clan was the Tatyai and those of that clan that went to Valinor were called the Noldor. They were in the second group to depart for Valinor. The Third Clan was composed of everybody else: the Teleri who went to Valinor, the Sindar, the Galadhrim, the Green elves, and so on.

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Chapter 15

Very slowly, Haldir shifted his position, trying not to move too much or too quickly.  Keeping his legs still, he managed to reach out with his free hand and drag the plate of bread and fruit over to his side. Leaning to the side again, he grabbed his cup of wine and took a long drink. Setting his cup down, he checked his charges and sighed with relief – all still asleep. Now if one of the ellith would just return home…

“Adar!”

Haldir jumped, causing much stirring which he quickly tried to calm.

“Taurion,” he called quietly. “You startled me! How do you move so quietly? I never even heard you climb up here.” 

Taurion chuckled softly. “Adar, I only do what you taught me to do.”

“But you are so much better at it than I, and I used to think that I was good at stalking and moving silently through the wood.”

“You are good at those things,” Taurion reassured as he climbed the rest of the way through the hole and into the talan. “But I was trying to be extra silent lest I wake up a little one and that is great incentive to be silent.”

“I have to agree with you there,” Haldir said bouncing one bent leg to settle its occupant.

“So, ah, Adar, how did you end up in this ah…,”  Taurion gestured to Haldir in general, “predicament?”

“Yes…well...,” Haldir gestured helplessly with his free hand.

“How about if you tell me about it while I clean up and change clothes?” Taurion offered with a smile.  “Whenever I see you in an uncomfortable situation, I know there is a good story behind it.”

Taurion put away his weapons, leaning his long bow beside his adar’s, and proceeded to disrobe tossing his dirty clothes into a pile in the corner.

“As soon as you are clean and dressed, you can hold him,” Haldir offered.

“He is my son. I certainly hope you would allow me to hold him, but I agree that I need to clean up first,” Taurion said filling a bowl with water and grabbing the soap and a cloth. “So, how did you end up with him?”

“Your wife, your naneth, your daernaneth, your brother’s wife, and your sisters are at the falls doing the washing.”

“You have things to do as well, Adar. How did you get stuck here minding children?”

“My boots needed new soles.”

“That explains your lack of shoes.”

“Your son’s diaper leaked right after they left.”

“That explains your shirt over here on the floor. Go on.”

“So I changed him and put on another shirt, but then Lalaith spit up on the sleeve and all over her dress.”

“And that is why she is wrapped up in your shirt asleep in the crook of your knee.”

“Yes. I gave up on wearing a shirt after that.”

“You should not have put on your favorite shirt when you were going to hold a baby.”

“Yes, I realize that,” Haldir snapped in exasperation. “The ellith had left to do the washing. I had little choice in the matter: either my favorite shirt or my best shirt.”

Taurion bit his lip, shaking with suppressed laughter. “Too bad my brother has not returned from his hunting trip yet to take his daughter off your hands. Very well. So…why do you have leaves and…are those twigs in your hair?”

Haldir sighed in defeat. “Little Nellas decided that I needed to look like a tree because she likes trees.”

“So she decorated her daeradar as a tree.”

“Yes, it kept her out of trouble and let the babies sleep.”

“So how did she end up curled up around your other leg sound asleep?”

“Lullabies and sleep inducing chants work very well on three-year-olds.”

“Adar! You used one of naneth’s healing chants to put her to sleep? I will tell my sister. How dare you!”

“Taurion, it was a matter of self preservation. I am not equipped to feed the infants when they awaken, and be assured they will wish to nurse when they wake up. Nellas has a new fascination with trying to climb down the ladder by herself whenever the adults are not looking and it scares me. ”

Taurion finished up, then dressed and poured himself and his adar a drink. Handing Haldir the fresh cup, he sat down beside him.  Carefully, he took the sleeping boy in his arms, cradling him close. Wonder shining brightly in his eyes, he kissed the silvery downy head.

“I have missed you so much,” he whispered. “Far more than I ever realized I would for all that you are only two months old.”

Haldir smiled, flexing his now free arm, then wrapping it around Taurion’s shoulders and giving him a kiss on the forehead.  “I have missed you, my son. I am glad that you are home.”

Taurion leaned against him and smiled. “Adar, was it thus for you whenever you left on the hunt when we were small?”

“Every time,” Haldir replied. “Then when you were big enough to accompany me, I feared for your safety the whole time. And I also worried about what your naneth would do to me if anything ever befell any of you children while on the hunt with me.”

“Adar, Handir and I earned our braids a few ennin ago. Surely you do not still worry for us?”

Haldir smiled, “I worry less, but I still worry, and I believe I always will. You ask your daeradar and his adar if they worry about you ellyn when you are away and see what they say.”

“You did not mention this when I married.”

“There is no way you could have understood the power this would hold over you until you first sensed your child’s presence within your wife’s womb or held him in your arms for the first time.”

Taurion nuzzled his cheek against his son’s forehead. “Is this why you do not seem to chafe at the prospect of being unable to go on the hunt again for another several months?”

Haldir chuckled warmly. “I know this last time of staying close by my beloved will be over before I know it and I wish to relish it as much as possible. We think that six children will be enough for us.”

“Six?!” Taurion gasped in surprise. “Naneth is having twins?”

“Oh, I guess we did not tell you because you were away. Your naneth and I just realized a few turns of the stars ago that she carries twins.”

Taurion’s face lit up with joy as he shook his head and quietly laughed. When he calmed, he asked, “Have you told your brothers and your close friends yet?”

“Yes.”

“And…”

Haldir sighed and laughed as well. “Their wives apparently planned this with Gilwen for my brothers and Angaril are each expecting single children and Ferevellon and Fereveldir both will be adding twins to their houses as well.”

Taurion laughed again. “Adar, are you six completely incapable of doing anything by yourselves?”

“Well, we got seriously injured together, we came here together, and built new lives for ourselves together, but I did make the great leap and marry first.”

“Was it your duty as captain to show them how it was done?” Taurion looked slyly at his adar and jabbed him with his elbow.

Haldir chuckled, shaking his head. “Oh, you have no idea! It took all of us a long time to adjust to being here and to learn the ways of this tribe of Galadhrim which was more different from our own than we had realized. This tribe is far less, ah…inhibited than ours was in Lothlórien with an entirely different sense of propriety.”

“Do you miss what you had there?”

“Sometimes, but what I have here is far more wondrous than I ever dreamed. I believe the only way I could be happier here is if my parents and kin yet lived and were here with us. I wish they could have seen you children and known you as I do. They would be so proud.” Haldir looked away blinking back the surge of emotion. His youngest granddaughter stirred and, grateful for the distraction, he scooped Lalaith up and cradled her close until she settled again snuggled up against his chest.

Taurion patted him on the back, then stopped and ran his fingers down the long scar tracing it from top to bottom. “Does this still pain you?”

“Sometimes, but it is very rare now. Your naneth is an exceptional healer and the reason I yet live.”

“Adar, you are the greatest fighter I or anyone else in Celos Galen has ever seen and the mightiest warrior in the three settlements. Your brothers and friends say you were the best in Lothlórien, too, where there were many hundreds of warriors. What…what could possibly have done this to you?”

Unsure how to answer, Haldir looked away, adjusting the blanket covering little Nellas, then took a few slow swallows of his wine.

“Was it wolves like the ones we encountered on our hunt?” Taurion ventured.

“What wolves would those be? You had the hunt in the south did you not?” Haldir asked suddenly very concerned.

“Yes, we did. We slew four wolves. Their slathering fangs and matted fur were vile to behold. The warriors of the settlement down there said that they are finding more and more of them. People have died because of them.”

“How many have died?” Haldir demanded.

Taurion paused, cradling his son a little closer before answering sorrowfully, “Twenty-one, mostly ellith and children.”

Haldir squeezed his eyes shut, cursing under his breath. “Are they moving the settlement?”

“Yes, they are coming up here to join with us. I brought word of this to Daeradar Saelon before I came here to see you. There is safety in numbers, though…not as much as one would expect.” He paused, a tear escaping down his cheek as he took a few deep breaths to steady himself before continuing. “The children were playing under the trees while the ellith were mending and doing the washing and…and then a pack of wolves attacked. The chieftain and seven other ellyn were killed when they came to the rescue. Many others were injured.” Taurion swore vehemently, wiping his face as more tears escaped. “It is so much more difficult hearing sad things now that I have a child of my own. This happened three turns of the stars before we met up with their warriors during the hunt. We travelled with them and helped hunt down the four wolves that escaped.”

Silently, Haldir sent a prayer to the Belain begging for mercy and for this to not be the beginning of the end he long feared would come. Struggling to keep his anger and fear in check, his voice wavered as he asked, “How long ago did the attacks happen?”

“Nine turns of the stars ago. We will receive the displaced villagers in about five turns of the stars. Daeradar Saelon wishes to speak with you about coordinating the building of more telain and asking folk to accept guests into their homes until housing can be found for all.”

Haldir nodded grimly. “As soon as the ellith return, I will go to him and see what needs to be done. If Handir has not returned by dinner, I want you to take some warriors with you and go east to find him. I do not know if Saelon has ordered this or not, but I want the other hunters recalled immediately.”

Taurion nodded, worry and fear clouding his handsome face.  “I believe my little brother is still safe. My cousins have the hunt with him and they are every bit the warriors that their edair are. But I will find them all and bring them home. Settlements have moved before, though not in my lifetime. Your reaction frightens me, Adar. I have never seen anything scare or unsettle you like this. What do you know or what do you fear that you are not telling me?”

“My son, if my fears should be realized then I will let you know. Until then, please just do as I ask. I cannot explain further at this time.”

Turning, Taurion gave his adar a fierce one-armed hug which Haldir returned in kind around the sleeping infants. Once Taurion had settled again, he finished his cup of wine then closed his eyes and rested against Haldir in silence.

Leaning his head against his son’s, Haldir closed his eyes and reached out with his fae exploring the lands around Celos Galen as best he could. The trees felt calm and at peace among their beloved elves. The animals went about their gathering, feeding, and play unhindered and unafraid. All was still at peace for now. But for how much longer?

****************

fae - spirit

XXXXXXXXXXXX

Chapter 16

Gilwen embraced her son, holding him close for a long time.

“Naneth, please,” Handir quietly reassured. “I will be all right. Please let me tell them what has happened and then you can tend to me.”

Gilwen withdrew, holding her son at arm’s length. “Very well, but speak quickly. They did a good job bandaging your side, but I do need to tend to it as well.”

He nodded, then turned to his wife, giving her and his tiny daughter each a reassuring kiss. “Please let me deliver my news and then I will be all yours.”

His wife smiled tremulously, clutching the baby closer as he gently brushed a tear from her cheek.

Handir turned to the assembled edair and took a deep breath, holding his side against the pain that the movement obviously caused. “The eastern settlement is gone. We went to visit with them on the hunt to join with their hunters and discovered that they had been attacked.  My cousins and I scoured the area looking for survivors. We found some and they told us that they had repelled two other attacks already before the one that finally destroyed their village. We were delayed returning because of those we were bringing back with us.”

“They are welcome among us. We will make room for them as well,” Saelon announced solicitously.

“As well?” Handir asked. “What do you mean by that?”

“The southern settlement has also been attacked by wolves and the survivors are on their way here to join with us,” Damrod said.

“What? What wolves?” Handir looked over at Taurion for confirmation. “You found wolves there?”

“Yes,” Taurion replied. “We slew four of them. Why do you seem so surprised? You found wolves, too. The other settlement was attacked by wolves as well, was it not?”

“What?” Handir started. “No. No! We did not find wolves.  It…The other settlement was attacked by…by creatures. They were hideous to look upon and they stank and they spoke a tongue which grated on the ears and they walked on two legs. And they…we…I could not believe what I saw…It…it was horrible!”

He turned away, covering his mouth with his hand.

Haldir moved forward and put his hands on his younger son’s shoulders. “Tell me what it is, my son. You need to tell us more.”

“Adar, they…they…Adar we found some of the creatures alive and they were…eating some of the elves they had slaughtered.” Handir shook, tears streaming down his face as his adar wrapped his arms around him.

Many voices cried out in alarm and concern and some in disbelief. Once Saelon settled everyone again, Haldir looked over at Rúmil and Orophin where they stood quietly conferring with their sons and they nodded to Haldir.

“They saw the same thing,” Orophin said quietly.  The look on his face betrayed his struggle with his own emotions.

“How long ago was the village destroyed?” Saelon asked.

Rúmil’s eldest son answered for Handir now leaned heavily on his adar, still too overcome to respond. “Perhaps six turns of the stars ago? We came upon the village about fives turns ago and found survivors maybe four turns ago.”

“How was my grandson injured?” Damrod asked, speaking for the first time.

“He was the first one to see the creatures while they were eating, and they shot him with an arrow. We fired our own arrows and destroyed the creatures. His wound is not poisoned. We tended him and returned here as quickly as we could. The rest of the hunters and the survivors will be here soon. We came on ahead to warn you.”

“They fire arrows?” Damrod asked in disbelief.

“Yes, my lord. And they carry swords as well, poorly made but sharp enough to be treacherous.”

The crowd murmured fearfully but Saelon stood in silence, deep in thought.  After everyone quieted again he carefully looked about the frightened faces of the crowd.

“My people, this is not the first time that a settlement has been threatened or forced to move. We will open our homes to the survivors of each settlement and we will build new telain to house our new arrivals. Each group of hunters has reported that the creatures which attacked the respective settlements are all dead. All is still at peace here and there have not been any signs of anything untoward on or near our borders. I deem that this threat has passed. Be at peace! Return to your homes and make ready for those who will be joining us.”

Haldir and his comrades stared at the chieftain, shaking their heads in disbelief.

“NO!” Angaril practically shouted as the crowd started to disburse.  “NO! You cannot be serious!”

Saelon glared at him angrily. “I have spoken!”

“No!” A red-faced, Angaril turned to meet Haldir’s gaze. “Haldir, please! You have got to--”

“He does not have to do anything, Angaril,” Damrod said quietly, defending his adar’s words. “Go home.”

“I will not!  Not when there is--”

Haldir moved to join them, one arm still supporting his badly shaken son.

“Not when there is what?” Saelon asked gesturing angrily. “An unknown threat from creatures which were all destroyed? A threat which might exist, but does not yet know our location even if it did exist? Would you cause a panic? And what would you have me do? Move the settlement? To where?”

“My lord,” Haldir said speaking calmly. “I think that we need to investigate the area around the eastern settlement. I would like to confirm the identity of the creatures. My comrades and I believe we know what they are. If we are correct, then you will need to move the settlement.”

“Oh? Why? Did you not train warriors for just such a threat as this?” Saelon asked, his voice filled with anger.

“Yes, we did train them to defend the settlement, and trained warriors obviously kept the creatures at bay for two assaults on the eastern settlement. However, they failed on the third assault for reasons unknown to us at this time,” Haldir said quietly.

“You are the best warriors of the three settlements. You have trained and drilled and practiced musters far more than the other two settlements for how many ennin? I trust that your warriors will defend us if, and I say again, IF the need arises. I for one do not believe that it will.”

“My lord,” Haldir started again, the strain of keeping his anger in check creeping into his voice. “I will take warriors to investigate what the hunters found in the eastern settlement. And, if we are correct in our suspicions about the creatures, then there is no way that we can successfully defend Celos Galen for any length of time. We might be many, but the enemy will be far greater than you could possibly imagine.”

“Is that so, Child?” Saelon purred dangerously. “And how could you possibly know that?”

Haldir was well aware of the many eyes anxiously watching him, especially those of his sons and his comrades’ sons. In an equally dangerous tone, he replied, “Because if we are correct, then these are the same creatures that my comrades and I from Lothlórien encountered by the thousands in the attack where we nearly died. I led two hundred warriors each with more ennin of experience fighting these same creatures than most of my warriors here have even seen of life. My comrades and I were the only survivors. We do not have 200 warriors here and they do not have the experience fighting creatures like this.”

Taurion paled, looking on his adar in awe and dread as he gasped, “Adar, you…you think these are the creatures that gave you those wounds?”

“Yes,” Haldir nodded grimly.

“There are no better warriors than you six, Adar. If…if what you fear is true, then we truly are doomed.”

“Yes,” Haldir confirmed matter-or-factly. “If it is true, then we are doomed.”

Saelon glared at Haldir for a time, then gave in to the almost palpable fear of those around him. “Take your warriors and go, Haldir. But I still believe that you are wrong.”

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

It only took a few turns of the stars to reach the remains of the eastern settlement and the orc camp. Haldir wished it had taken longer – much much longer.  Ordering his warriors to spread out and take to the trees, they were able to gather a great deal of information about the orcs and the lack of any further survivors.  Warriors from Lorien even managed to get close enough to the orcs undetected to listen to their conversations.

When the group assembled again a safe distance away, they climbed high into the trees to discuss what they had learned.

“Adar,” Taurion asked anxiously, “Is it as you feared? Are these the creatures that you spoke of?”

All of the Lórien warriors nodded grimly.

“Is there naught we can do?” Angaril’s third son asked. “Do we need to move Celos Galen or can we defend it?”

Angaril looked over at Haldir and silently shook his head.

“But why?” his son asked again. “Did you not train us and the other warriors for this purpose: to defend Celos Galen against peril?”

Haldir looked around at the sons of his brothers and comrades, seeing eager faces which were so like the ones that he so many times led into battle and kept from certain death time and again. But this time it was different.

“Your silence could suggest that you do not have faith in our abilities,” Rúmil’s eldest son commented.

“And why did you six go so close to the creatures so as to hear their voices?” Orophin’s second son asked.

Ferevellon and Ferevildir both looked at their sons expectantly.

“We are perfectly content to let them ask the questions for they speak out thoughts as well,” one of the sons declared and the others nodded in agreement.

Rúmil finally spoke up. “We have every confidence in your abilities. Your prowess in arms in not in question,” He paused looking pointedly at every son of the six in turn. “We moved so close to the orcs in order to--”

“Orcs?” Taurion interrupted.

“Yes,” Rúmil answered. “The creatures are called orcs. We needed to hear their voices in order to hear their plans.”

“Their plans…” Rumil’s eldest echoed. “You…you understand their foul tongue?”

“Yes, we do understand their speech,” Orophin confirmed.

“But how?” Many of the sons asked as once.

Everyone looked at Haldir who sighed in exasperation.

“Oh, so I get to be the one, is that it?” Haldir asked irritably.

“You are the captain…” Angaril said. “Why should it not be you?”

Haldir looked away, listening to the woods around him, taking in the agitated trees and the lack of small animals and birds and the strong sense of evil which accompanied the orcs. Regarding the sons again, he realized that now likely was a very good time to start telling the children some things about their edair’s past.

Briefly Haldir closed his eyes searching for the right words, then he opened his eyes and met those of the sons who would not have lived had it not been for orcs. Taking a deep breath, he began his tale.

The sons sat mesmerized as he spoke of Lórien and their lives and training there and the orcs and other creatures which assailed them. He told of other clans living among them as if they were all one tribe for so they had become in order to survive – the Sindar and the Tatyai and even some few with the blood of the Minyai in them.  Never once did Haldir mention from when they had come.

“That is why you six speak so many tongues and know so many things that even our wisest do not know,” Taurion said.

“Yes,” Haldir confirmed. “And we even speak the tongue of our enemy for so dire was our need to fight and survive.”

“Does Lórien yet survive?” one of Fereveldir’s twin sons asked.

“Yes, somewhere in the distant east it does,” Haldir said simply.

“If it was wondrous fair as you said then why did you leave it? Why did you go away to fight in a battle that was not yours and why did you come here?” the other twin asked.

“We do not know how we came to be here for that road lies dark and dim in our memory. We only remember being injured in battle and then awakening here. We joined the battle because, at that time, all battles were ultimately for the good of all of the free folk of the land -- whether they be our kind or no. Any battle lost would impair all of us and any battle won served to strengthen all in our land. It was our duty and our honor to go and fight.”

“Yet you do not want us to fight and save Celos Galen,” Rúmil’s eldest son spat angrily. “Why? Does that land not matter to you as much as Lórien seemed to matter? Is that it?”

Rúmil glared at his son. “Do not ever presume to think that we care not for Celos Galen and its people or that we would not be willing to die to defend it! There simply are not enough warriors to defend Celos Galen if the large attack that the orcs are planning comes to pass. Cunning and clever strategy will only go so far to protect our people here and, in truth, they will not be enough.”

“Then give us the chance to protect our homes or to die trying – just like you did in Lórien!”

“NO!” the six said in resounding unison causing the sons to quell at the power behind their edair’s voices.

“Part of being a warrior is choosing one’s battles wisely, making realistic use of wit and knowledge. Sometimes the wisest move is to not engage the enemy, but to retreat and fight again on more favorable terms another time.” Orophin said quietly, his steely calm voice visibly settling the agitation of those around him. “Now is one of those times to retreat. There are too many ellith and children and folk who, though willing to fight, cannot hope to last long in a battle against orcs.”

“What are orcs that they are such a powerful enemy? You have to tell us, and I for one believe that you know what they are.” Taurion said, the anger in his voice matching that of his reprimanded cousin.

Angaril answered, “Do you remember tales of elves disappearing from Cuiviénen? Of folk who went wandering never to return? Of a dark hunter who brought a greater darkness everywhere he went and even the stars feared to shine in his presence?”

The sons nodded.

“The dark hunter was one of the Belain called Melkor or Morgoth who chose to betray the teachings of Eru and fight against the good of His creations. He corrupted the Song which called all into existence. We see evidence of that corruption in the vile things which attack us -- the spiders and the wolves and other such creatures which we have encountered which have sought to slay our kind. Morgoth was very jealous of the elves and their beauty and goodness, so he started stealing some of them away and corrupting them to his cruel and vile purposes. The end result of his torments and tortures of captured elves was the orcs. They have not our long lives nor our beauty nor skills, but to some extent they still have our wit and physical strength so they are cunning and cruel and hate us as no other hates.”

After a long silence, a much subdued Taurion finally spoke up. “If we defend Celos Galen and we fail, will they eat our kin and…and our children as my brother said that they ate the folk of the eastern settlement?”

“Yes, they will without hesitation,” Orophin calmly replied.

Another long silence followed, then Rúmil’s eldest spoke again. “Then we need to leave now and warn the settlement and somehow force Chieftain Saelon to understand that Celos Galen has to be abandoned immediately. I will not lose my wife and son to those creatures, those orcs.”

“We cannot force chieftain Saelon to do anything,” Haldir cautioned, but we can prepare those who will listen to ready themselves for the inevitable and help them plan to leave when the time comes.”

“Where will you take them?” Taurion asked. “Where in this whole forest is safe when two other settlements have already fallen? To where will you move the settlement?”

“Doriath. We have shown you on the map the river Sirion which flows some leagues to the west of our forest’s borders,” Haldir explained. “We will follow that river north until it forks and then we will cross the eastern fork and enter into Doriath. Menegroth the main and most powerful settlement should be completed by now. I feel confident that they will welcome us.”

“How come you have not spoken of this place before? How do you even know it exists?” Taurion asked.

Sometimes the boy was too shrewd for his own good, Haldir thought in frustration. He fumbled for a believable response then finally settled with, “I heard tell of it in my travels before you were born. It is where we must go and I know that our people will be safe there.”

“Now we just have to convince Saelon that he needs to move the settlement,” Angaril said as he started down the tree.

To that the others all agreed and started climbing down from their perches to run back to Celos Galen, each desperately hoping that they would not be too late.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Chapter 17

Gilwen stumbled again, but Haldir tightened his arm around her, supporting her as best he could.

“Just a little farther, my love. Just a little bit farther and we can rest,” he crooned softly in her ear yet again.

Yet again, she did not reply.

There was nothing he could do but hold her close and continue on. For nearly four turns of the stars, they had travelled thus, stopping only long enough to eat a bit and rest for a brief time and then they were off again.

Captain Haldir cast about constantly, searching for signs that they had been followed. His brother-in-law Brethil and his nephews and Galadin took their turn once again travelling on ahead, assuring a clear path. So far, the group had been fortunate for the orcs did not appear to have crossed the stream. 

Haldir remembered tales from the Noldor telling of the Balan Ulmo’s power being strong in the river Sirion. Perhaps his presence was strong in some of the streams in Beleriand as well? Haldir was so desperate now that he would call on any of the Belain if he thought there might be some aide to be gained from it. He knew his hope was not unfounded for Ulmo had helped many of the exiled Noldor. But did his love for elves extend beyond the Noldor and the Teleri who knew him in Valinor? To that Haldir had no answer. However, he had sent up a silent prayer as they crossed the stream near Celos Galen and each subsequent stream along the way, begging for mercy and aide for victims and foes of Morgoth. Surprisingly and reassuringly, he felt a renewed sense of strength and resolve with each stream he crossed with a prayer.

If only he could renew the strength and resolve of those around him. The ellith and the children clearly were exhausted. Those who carried the wounded took turns bearing the litters and supporting the walking wounded. His own son Handir was one of the ones being borne by others.

His beloved Handir…fighting, though barely recovered, alongside the ellyn and older ellith who sought to cover the escape of the other ellith and children, buying time that others might live, taking five more arrows in the process…

Would that Haldir and his warriors of Lórien could have been there when the attack came! Perhaps more beloved sons and daughters of Celos Galen would be among the survivors. Perhaps the attack could have been repelled. Perhaps Gilwen’s adar would not now be chieftain. Perhaps all of the sons of Lórien would lie among the dead or the struggling wounded…

Even his daughters and the daughters of his comrades had fought bravely. His pregnant wife led many ellith and children to safety in the cave behind the waterfall where she, the other five pregnant wives, and some of their kin had already laid provisions for many for a long journey.

For all of the planning and strategy and maps and training and …and everything that Haldir had done to prepare those who would listen…a great many of the folk of Celos Galen as well as survivors from the other settlements had died. His trained warriors, his brothers in arms and blood defended the village well beyond all expectation and most of them had survived. But not most of the people. Not most of his people. Not the beloved trees felled or destroyed by fire.

Why had he been brought here to this place and time? Why? What purpose had it served? What good had come of it? He tried. So very very hard he tried…teaching them all that he knew, endeavoring to give them better lives, loving them as his own folk, marrying and raising his family there…yet he had failed at the test…

No, he was not even present at the test – the one battle which found Celos Galen and destroyed it beyond recall.  And he was not even there.

He was justified in his absence. He had to go, had to scout out the enemy and determine how to plan for the safety of his homeland and his kin. He was right to go! No one would listen, so HE had to go and show them! Prove the danger to them!

But he returned too late…too late…

Innocent people were dead. Homes were lost. And what of those who sought refuge among his folk because they knew he was there to protect them? So many of those who so deeply trusted in him to keep them safe were gone…and he was not there to save them or to die trying…

Too late…too late…

Haldir stumbled, falling to his knees and Gilwen sank down beside him. Putting her arms around him, she held him as he shuddered and trembled in her fierce embrace. He screamed and cried and begged and pleaded into her shoulder and her tear-dampened tangled hair. But nothing helped. Nothing made it better. The homes were not brought back nor the trees raised nor the dead returned to life.

He was their defender! The captain of their warriors proud! Yet his sword remained unbloodied, his arrows unfired, his might untried.

There was naught he could do now but despair…

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

At some point he became aware of hands stroking his back and his hair though Gilwen still held him securely in her arms.

“I was wondering how much longer he could endure. Please take care of him, Gilwen. He needs you right now more than ever,” Rúmil’s compassionate voice came from somewhere close behind him. 

“Damrod,” Rúmil continued more officially, “we are almost finished setting up the camp.  Your wife is tending to the wounded along with the other healers. I have set up a rotation for the watch with warriors up in the trees guarding the perimeter.  We are very close to the edge of the forest and our warriors can see far west into the plains. There is a stream nearby for water and we all need to rest.  The trees here know naught of orcs nor wolves, so the evil has never been here or at least it is not here yet. The trees are pleased to have us among them and will look after us as well. I believe we will be safe here for a little while though we should not tarry over long.”

“Thank you, Rúmil. I am relieved that you have our safety in hand. My son,” —Haldir felt a hand pat his back then grip his shoulder strongly—“needs some time to rest. He has done so much... None of us would have survived any of this if not for him and for you, his brethren. I…we do not even know how to begin to express our gratitude to you six for all you have done for us.”

“Adar, my ellith and I will look after him,” Gilwen said quietly, never loosening her hold on Haldir. “Go with Rúmil so you can see what he has done. Then you should go walk among our people and let them know that all is well for now. It will be a great comfort to them to know that their new chieftain and their warriors are looking after them. Daeradar thought ever of our people and made it clear that their needs came before his own. I know you miss him and daernaneth dearly, but you need to do the same.”

Damrod sighed. “I know what I need to do, Child. But thank you for reminding me.”

“I love you, Adar,” Gilwen said, her voice cracking.

“I love you, too, Child.” The hand tightened briefly on Haldir’s shoulder, then slid away.

“Naneth, I have folded my cloak into a pillow for you and adar.”

Gilwen sniffled twice then said, “Thank you, Gilien, but what about you?”

“Araras’s cloak is plenty large enough for the both of us,” came her shy reply.

“Oh, it is, is it?” Gilwen replied in stern exasperation. “Daughter, please do not do anything, ah…permanent until we reach Doriath. Your adar is weary enough just now without his beloved little girl adding to his burdens.”

“Naneth, we will behave, I promise. Besides adar made it quite clear to Araras that he needs to have a long talk with him before we wed. My beloved respects adar very much and is terrified of angering him. I can assure you we will both behave.”

“Please help me settle your adar, then look in on Handir and make sure his wife eats well and rests or she will not be able to properly nurse little Lalaith. I know she is very upset, and she fears for Handir’s life, but you must stand over her and threaten her if necessary to see that she takes good care of herself. After you see to her and the baby, then find Taurion and his family and see to them as well before you take your own rest.”

“Yes, Naneth. But who will see that you eat and rest, too? Remember you have the twins to think about.”

“Bring me some food and I will eat, but I will not leave your adar’s side. Once he is at rest, I will sleep with him in my arms. He needs me right now and I will not fail him.”

Haldir cooperated with the two ellith as they adjusted his cloak, gently helping him to lie down. However he never said a word and refused to look anyone in the eye, keeping his head bowed the whole time. He did not deserve this comfort nor the love they were showing him, but his strength was completely gone and he knew it was pointless to argue with Gilwen about such matters.

Young Gilien hugged him tightly and kissed him on the cheek whispering, “I love you, Ada” before she left. But he did nothing to acknowledge her.

Gilwen sat up for a time, eating something that their other daughter had brought to her. But Haldir closed his eyes to the world and rolled onto his side, feeling too bereft, unworthy, and ashamed to care about anything.

A very short time later, his brooding was interrupted when someone laid something over his torso, but he pointedly ignored it with increasing irritability, as well as the pats on his shoulder and back, wishing the well-meaning people would just go away and let him grieve and despair in peace. He could not ignore what followed though for something burrowed under his arm to engulf his head and face in soft fabric and little arms.

“It is all right, Daeradar. I am here. I love you. I will take care of you and keep you safe until Daernaneth is done,” little Nellas said consolingly, giving his head a tight squeeze.

Haldir could not help but draw her closer to him, nuzzling her gratefully as his tears flowed once again. Before long, he cried himself to sleep in her arms.

XXXXXXXXXXXX

Haldir stood beside a river skipping rocks across the surface.

“Watch this!” Called a voice from beside him.

Haldir turned to see an elf dressed in robes of shifting greens and blues over mail which adorned his entire body like shimmering fish scales. The ellon’s greenish silver hair hung in warrior’s braids adorned with pearls and tiny shells. Piercingly bright green eyes like the sharp glint of sunlight on waves met Haldir’s gaze and Haldir bowed his head, blinking to clear the spots which temporarily blurred his vision.

“Stop looking at me,” the ellon admonished. “Watch this.”

He cast a perfectly flat stone and it skipped twenty seven times in zigzags and arcs back and forth across the river before plunking in the water near the opposite shore.

“Impressive!” Haldir observed, feeling most unsettled.  Briefly he struggled with whether it would be more polite to ask the “elf” who he was or what he was, but before he could decide, the ellon addressed him.

“You do realsie, Haldir, it is most unusual for an elf who never left these lands to know of me, let alone to invoke my blessing.”

Haldir looked on the ellon in bemused wonder. “My Lord,” he knew instinctively that if anyone ever deserved this title it was the one who stood before him now. “Forgive me, but how do you know who I am? What blessing? What are you talking about?”

The ellon smiled as he bent and picked up another perfectly round flat stone and cast it, watching it bounce in a happy dance all around the surface of the river before finally leaping high in the air and then dropping into the water without a sound.

“Let me assure you that though my power inland is strongest in the river Sirion, it does still move quietly in the surrounding streams and tributaries.  You were wise to seek out my aide. Nothing forbids my giving it at this time, though I deduce from your memories that my aide in these lands will be hindered more in the future.”

“You deduce…” Haldir started.

Suddenly a fish leapt out of the water and caught in its mouth something that the ellon threw to it. Then twelve fish leapt out of the water at the same time and twelve treats flew with one being caught by each fish.

“Child,” the ellon chided in amusement, “If you do not close your mouth, then I shall throw a treat to you as well.”

Haldir promptly clamped his mouth shut, staring dumbfounded at the ellon.

“The Noldor did not know this – do not know this and I guess will not know this even in the Third Age of this land -- but I do love the elves who stayed behind just as much as I love the Lindar. The Lindar work with me and honor me on the salty sea, but you who remained when the others departed, you love the fresh waters as much as you love your trees, and I hold all waters and the life within equally dear.”

Haldir fell to his knees, his head bowed in supplication. “Mmm…My Lord. My Lord Ulmo,” he stuttered when he finally found his voice. “Y…you heard. Y…you came.” His voice fell to a whisper. “You actually came.”

“I hear everything that happens in and around my waters. Did you know that you are the first elf to call on me from this land? I applaud you and am grateful to you for even considering me or my assistance an option.”

“My people’s home is gone and it is my fault,” Haldir said simply.

“Nonsense! Did you breed the orcs and feed their hatred and teach them to fight? Did you order the attack on Celos Galen?”

“No, of course not,” Haldir calmly explained. “But I was not there when the attack came. I could have… I should have…”

“Could have… should have… done what? Coordinated a defense when hopelessly outnumbered like you did at Helms Deep? Died during the battle? Do you truly believe that Adar wished something as simple as that to be your doom after He spared you at Helm’s Deep and allowed you to be sent you here?”

Haldir looked up, but stopped short of meeting the Balan’s unbearably bright gaze. “Adar?”

“Eru Illuvatar the one who made us all. He has special plans for you, a special purpose for you here in this time in Beleriand, and here you are upset that things did not happen according to YOUR plan. If I recall correctly, your plan was to move the settlement before the orcs attacked.”

“But I could not save the people of Celos Galen. I was not there when they were attacked. I failed them,” Haldir said meekly.

“Child, those who survived did so because of your wisdom and the training you gave them. If you and your brothers and friends had not come here to this time and this land, then no one from any of the settlements would have survived. Your anger should be directed at the orcs and Melkor, not at yourself. I and the other Belain are very proud of you for what you and the other five have achieved in so short a time here in Beleriand. Adar blessed each of you with mates and many children and grandchildren – all things which none of you thought you would ever find in Lothlórien in the Third Age. Do you not think that maybe He is directing things even now?”

“But why?” Haldir hated how whiny his voice sounded to his own ears. “We have never paid much attention to the Belain before, for you were always great and mighty and far away in Valinor and we were bereft and left behind here. Why would Eru think me worthy of…of anything like this?”

“And you think I am worthy?” Ulmo gave a great booming laugh like a waterfall crashing down a high cliff. “Oh, if you only knew the mistakes I have made!”

Still chuckling, Ulmo pulled Haldir to his feet and wrapped him in an embrace which felt oddly like being engulfed in a pleasantly warm wave.

“Child, I am bid tell you that no one else could have done what you have done or could go on to do that which is your doom. I will protect your folk the whole way to Doriath, if you but travel beside the Sirion all the way north through his gates and past his falls until the River Teiglin blends his water with Sirion. That is the southeastern corner of Doriath and the beginning of the Forest of Region. I shall give you guidance the rest of the way to Menegroth from there.”

Stooping, Ulmo kissed Haldir’s forehead. “Be at peace, Child. Let go of the guilt, shame, and anger. These are for Melkor, they are not for you.”

Calm serenity filled Haldir as he slipped out of the Balan’s embrace almost as if being carried away by the gentlest of waves.

“Enjoy your well-earned rest, Haldir of Lothlórien and lately of Celos Galen.”

Haldir closed his eyes and drifted away.

XXXXXXXXXXXX

Balan – Vala

Belain – Valar

Chapter 18

When Haldir woke again, his sleeping wife held him close with his head resting on her breast. He could sense the children within and felt them respond to the brush of his fae though it would be many months before they were born. That feeling delighted him with every one of his children for they knew him and their naneth, though they knew nothing else, and they always were glad to sense his presence.

Slowly he realized that part of his weariness of late was because of the strength of life they drew from him and would continue to draw from him for years yet. These were children numbers five and six, and each additional child seemed to require more from him than the previous one did. Another part of his weariness stemmed from the toll the children were taking on his wife and her drawing on him for support as well. He never allowed one of his warriors to even go on patrol under such conditions let alone enter into combat. Why did he think he could handle it?

He never was one to accept his limits, but now he appeared to have little choice in the matter. What was more, his brethren, their married children, and his married children were all in a similar situation to his. None of them were at their strongest just now because of how much their young or unborn children drew sustenance from them. Haldir shifted and positioned his wife in his arms with her head now resting on his shoulder. Gently he kissed her lips and then her forehead, drawing her closer still. Even though they had lost her grandparents, he was so fortunate to still have her and the rest of the family intact. He would do all he could to protect them and the other survivors and lead them to safety. Knowing he had Ulmo’s protection brought him a great deal of comfort.

For a few moments he reached out with his fae, sensing the warriors in the trees surrounding the camp, the solace offered by the trees and animals, and the strong but subtle power of Ulmo in the stream nearby.  Closing his eyes, he sought out his children and his brothers with his thoughts. Briefly, he assured himself that they were safe and resting with their spouses (though young Gilien was asleep with her lover which rankled him a little bit). Soon they would need to break camp and make their way to the river Sirion, but for a few more hours, they could afford to take their much needed rest in peace – a blessing for which he was most grateful.

XXXXXXXXXXXXX

“Ulmo?" Orophin asked dubiously. "You are serious?”

“Well, reach over and put your hand in the stream and tell me what you feel,” Haldir challenged. “His power and presence are very strong in these waters.”

All six of the ellyn leaned over the water, with five peering disbelievingly as they each stuck a hand in the flowing water. Suddenly, their reflections disappeared, replaced by the imperious image of a single ellon dressed in greens and blues, his beautiful face framed with flowing greenish silver hair adorned with warrior’s braids.

Rúmil drew back in alarm, letting out a string of expletives in three languages. The image seemed to take offence and a fish leapt from the water, smacking Rúmil across the mouth with its tail before hitting the water again and quickly swimming away.

“Little Brother, perhaps you should watch your tongue in the presence of the Lord of Waters…” Haldir snorted.

Rúmil wiped his mouth in bewildered disgust and looked back down to see the water rippling violently around the image of the Lord of Waters who appeared to be laughing uproariously.

“As I said,” Haldir continued, grinning broadly. “Ulmo will protect us if we but follow the Sirion north to Doriath. He said he would guide us further across the forest to Menegroth proper from there.”

The image of Ulmo’s laughing form faded, replaced by the reflections of each of the six again. Haldir arose gracefully, dusting off his clothes. “Now that you believe me, shall we be off?”

Flashing a smile at the dumbfounded dismay of his comrades from Lothlórien who were busy gesturing frantically to the water and mouthing silent words, he turned and strode away, shouting orders for the breaking of camp as he went.

 XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

“We are moving too slowly for my liking,” Haldir griped two turns of the stars after leaving the cover of the forest.

“At this rate, it will be another two turns of the stars before we reach the river Sirion,” Galadin agreed as he shifted one of his grandchildren in his arms. Haldir long ago gave up on trying to keep track which “great” any particular grandchild was for this ellon.

“Even with the adults carrying the children, our pace has not increased much,” Haldir observed, his voice full of concern.

“Now do you see why we cautioned you on the mapping expedition to not gather so much firewood with the persuasive ellith of Celos Galen?” Galadin peered sideways at Haldir as he spoke.

Haldir laughed, “And this admonition coming from an ellon with six children and six generations of grandchildren after him.”

Galadin grinned back unabashedly. “Captain, I clearly know well that of which I speak.” He laughed, then observed, “Little Lalaith is behaving well for you. I know her naneth appreciates you carrying her so she can attend to your son. How is young Handir faring?”

Haldir shifted the sleeping baby in his left arm, tucking her blanket more securely before replying. “He would be better off if we could remain in one place for a few turns of the stars and allow him to rest more deeply. My wife can do no more for him because of the pregnancy. My daughters are taking turns tending to him, lending him strength, and putting him into healing sleep so his journeying is easier. I worry for him, but I have not foreseen his death.”

Galadin clapped him on the shoulder with his free hand. “Captain, remember that I and the other warriors who do not have pregnant wives or young children are here for you. We are doing all we can to ease the burden on the rest of you and see to the safety of the group. If there is anything at all that you need, you have but to command us and we will make it so if we are able.”

Smiling gratefully, Haldir replied, “I cannot begin to express to you what it has meant having such capable warriors on hand to help us and look after the group. I realize that so many of the people are expressing their gratitude to me alone, but I make certain to tell them that it is all of you who deserve their thanks. I am so proud of you and the way you have handled yourselves through all of this. You have lost as much as anyone else, if not more so because it was your job to-” Haldir shook his head sadly, his smile fading as he corrected himself “our job to defend the settlements and we were unable to do more than see to it that some survived and escaped to try rebuilding again someplace safer. It is a sorrowful thing to lose one’s home or kin, but it is quite another to be responsible for seeing that those losses never happened and to know that one failed at what one had hoped to achieve.”

Galadin stopped, gripping Haldir’s shoulder to bring him to a halt as he turned to face his captain. “Son, I have moved with the settlement five times before you ever even came to Celos Galen. You and the training you provided us with enabled us and two other settlements to survive and thrive well beyond anything we ever achieved before. I do not believe that you comprehend what that has meant to us. You taught us to make a stand and defend our homes and to keep even the distant land around our settlements free of danger until the enemy grew too great. You need to accept that sometimes things are beyond our control. When that happens, we pick up and we go on to try again elsewhere. Not since Cuiviénen have our numbers been so great as they were before the attacks on our settlements.  There were more than five hundred of us, Haldir. Five hundred among three settlements!”

Galadin paused, closing his eyes for a few moments, and shaking his head with a tightlipped grimace.  Two tears slipped down his face, but as he sniffed and started to wipe his face on his sleeve, his grandchild got to the tears first.

“Daeradar, did you get bumped? Are you all right? I can make it better!” then the little boy kissed each of Galadin’s cheeks. “See? All better!”

Galadin smiled in spite of himself as did Haldir. “Thank you, my love,” Galadin replied. “It is all better.” Then the warrior looked at Haldir.

“We the survivors of three settlements still total more in numbers than we did when we first found you, Captain.  This is because of you and your brethren. We all would have perished if it had not been for you and your teachings. I am proud of the way we defended our homes and our folk. And, my Captain, I will not allow you to belittle our accomplishment by dwelling in grief on what might have been or what you think should have been. We all should have died and the fact that we did not is enough for me. And, my son, my dear friend, my brother-in-arms, it needs to be enough for you, too.”

Galadin placed his grandson on the ground for a moment, then proceeded to give Haldir the three kisses of the warrior, repeating the words Haldir spoke over him so long ago, “Maethor onnen, gwador onen”. Then he embraced him as a son, careful not to wake the baby.

Haldir stood rooted to the spot, stunned and utterly speechless, staring at Galadin who grinned as he picked up his grandson, tickled the little tummy, stole a kiss, and then started on again.

Looking back over his shoulder, he called, “Come Haldir, our wives will worry that we have fallen so far behind and we shall never hear the end of it. Not only are they persuasive, but they also are most ill-tempered.”

Still staring in shock, Haldir slowly resumed his walk as well.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

fae - spirit

Maethor onnen, gwador onen: (Sindarin) ‘A warrior is born, a (sworn) brother is given’.

A short ways away from the flowing water, Haldir watched his brother smile and shake his head. Rúmil’s shoulders shook violently as he covered his mouth and coughed, choking on his mirth. The warriors sitting with Rúmil looked at him curiously, awaiting an explanation of what Galadin had said incorrectly that set Rúmil off.

Once Rúmil calmed himself enough to explain, Haldir chuckled quietly as the others laughed out loud much to Galadin’s chagrin. Teaching Sindarin to those who did not speak it or who did not speak it well was Angaril’s idea to prepare everyone for life in Doriath where few or none would speak the tongue of the Galadhrim.

A gentle breeze snuggled and nestled among the many willows of Nan Tathren. Haldir had to admit that it was an incredibly beautiful place. It was no wonder that the survivors of Gondolin stopped here – would stop here – on their way to the Havens at Sirion. He and his brethren had been most amused at the disappointment of the rest of their fellow Galadhrim upon discovering that this enchanting valley of willows was not in fact Doriath. Not a few asked why they could not just settle there where the River Narog met the River Sirion, but Haldir made his warriors tell them the strategic defensive reasons for this land to be only a stopping place and not a permanent home.

Still though, Haldir could not blame them for wanting to stay. Time and again, he had to resist the urge to take out his harp and play an accompaniment to the merging of the two rivers and the soft rustle of the willows in the wind. The demands on his fae just from his family made the draw of the trees and water all the more potent. But there were things to be done while they rested, plans to be made, defenses to oversee…

Just as he turned to walk away and begin the next task on his list, his wife thrust his newly tuned harp into his hand and led him over to what she referred to mysteriously as the “place of harmony”.

“Why?” he demanded as he offered token resistance to her maneuvering him about and then forcing him to sit down across from her.

“Because you have not played for me since our last excursion to the falls before-”

Haldir nodded grimly. “Before…”

She nodded. Taking a moment to gather herself, she added, “Beloved, you owe me a tune about this place. I would dearly love to hear how this land speaks to you.”

“Will you sing me your song of it as well? I know you have made one already. I can feel it within you.”

Gilwen laughed merrily, a sound which made his soul sing. “Of course I will.” Drawing his hand to her, she kissed it and nuzzled it. “And I will tell you this, too,” she said smiling coyly, “If I did not already carry a gift within from our last long dalliance by the falls, I would most definitely see to it that you gifted me with such here.”

Haldir glanced around, realizing that the spot was secluded from everyone else. “When we finish making our music, we could…” he leaned forward and kissed her lips seductively “gather firewood.”

She replied with a kiss of her own to match his. “I would be delighted to gather firewood with you here.”

A long while later, they gathered themselves to share the tune and the song.

As she helped him straighten and belt his tunic again, he commented, “Have you noticed that we never seem to do this in the order in which we say we will?”

“Yes,” she nodded matter-of-factly while he pulled a few leaves out of her hair. “I have noticed. But this has been happening for how many ennin now?”

Haldir looked thoughtful for a moment. “Probably too long to bother with changing it.”  Fleetingly the thought occurred to him that when the refugees arrived in Doriath there might be even more children born there than the survivors previously anticipated. But with such persuasive ellith about in such a lovely place as this, it could not be helped. 

Gilwen laughed and lay down on her side, resting her head on his left thigh. He waited until she was settled, then proceeded to re-tune his harp.  Leaning back against a large willow, he closed his eyes and let the music of the rushing waters – each river contributing a different song – flow over him. The willow leaves rustled, adding their own accompaniment, caressing his fae in their own delicate way.  The tune came to his hands, a few light notes at first, teasing the rivers and the trees around him, then he sat up straighter, opening his eyes yet seeing nothing but the song being played about him, and joined his harp with it.

When he could no longer keep up with the rising wind and the restless playful waters, he stilled his hands, letting the last few notes diminish into the world around him.

“That was exquisite,” Gilwen whispered, sitting up and stretching. Slowly she arose and took his place leaning against the tree and helping him settle with his head on her lap.

“I see why you called it the ‘place of harmony’,” he said wistfully. “That was an utterly breathtaking, amazing experience. I believe I could settle here and be happy.” And he meant it, too.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

“Handir is looking well,” Orophin commented as he sat down, joining the other five warriors from Lórien in a secluded place away from the others.

Haldir smiled, giving a very relieved sigh. “Yes, he is. I feared greatly for him. I believe it is even more difficult for me seeing one of my children injured than it is seeing one of you injured, and that is saying a lot considering how much it pains me when something happens to one of you two.”

Rúmil and Orophin both smiled knowingly at their brother and Rúmil clapped him on the back.

“The other wounded are well now, too,” Angaril added. “I have noticed that Damrod is starting to assert himself more as chieftain. Did he agree that we should depart tomorrow?”

“Yes, he did. He is giving me a lot authority in determining our course on this journey and asks my counsel often. I know he feels overwhelmed with so many looking to him for guidance, but he does listen carefully to what I say and I appreciate that.  ”

“So do we, Haldir,” Angaril heartily agreed, “So do we.”

Orophin spread the map of Doriath on the ground before them.

“Our route seems straight forward enough,” Ferevellon said, tracing the river north with his finger, “Until we reach here of course.” He pointed to the Gates of Sirion where the river ran underground and then to the land surrounding that area. “Did Ulmo give any guidance as to what we do here? The Wall of Andram is called a wall for a reason, if I remember the stories correctly. It will look like sloping hills approaching from this direction, but it is made of rock mostly. Do we climb it or do we try following the river underground?”

“I do not suppose any of the refugees have ever travelled to the wall before, have they?” Fereveldir asked.

Haldir shook his head, pursing his lips. “Unfortunately, no one has. This map we have created tells us more than any of them know. The damn wall is too wide to go around, too. Look how far east and west it stretches.”  He pointed to the long line of hills slicing neatly through Beleriand.

“Well, we have some time journeying before this will become an issue, but it would be nice to have this resolved before we ever reach this point,” Rúmil observed.

“I remember reading that the River Sirion runs underground for three leagues before it reaches the Falls of Sirion here,” Orophin added pointing to the map.

Angaril studied the map for a few moments rubbing his chin, and then commented, “I do not like the idea of travelling through the fens up here. After dealing with the stinking marshes in Mordor, I cannot stomach the idea of leading warriors through swamp lands, let alone ellith and children. What if we stay east of the Sirion, picking our way through the valleys of Andram between the hills at this point,” he traced a route on the map, “And then we can skirt the fens and cross the river into Doriath here?”

Haldir cocked his head to the side considering the suggested route. “I agree with you on wanting to avoid the fens as well and for similar reasons. However, I think we should wait until we reach the Gates of Sirion and then send out scouts to determine the most viable route. Besides, Ulmo may have some guidance for us at that point and help us through this. I will not tell Damrod of this obstacle in our road because he still does not know we possess this map.”

“We certainly will not tell him,” Ferevellon said and the others nodded in agreement.

“I do not suppose you would allow us to explore Nargothrond on a side journey while you decide the best course for us to follow once we get to the Gates?” Fereveldir asked hopefully.

Sighing, Haldir glared at him. “I sincerely hope you are not serious about that request. You do realize that it is just a bunch of mountains and caves right now, do you not? Finrod Felagund has not yet arrived to create the realm. Perhaps after he arrives and begins work on it, you can join him and even help him construct it. Until that time, you will explore only the areas I tell you to.”

“Yes, Captain,” Fereveldir replied dejectedly, nodding his acceptance along with the other four.

Haldir gave them all a hard look, then rolled his eyes and threw up his hands. “I cannot believe the lot of you! Is it not enough that we are responsible for the safety of approximately 300 people and trying to get them to Doriath without you five nipping off to explore places that are not yet of historical significance?”  He swore, picking up a small stone and hurling it at a nearby tree.

“But Finrod Felagund is going to rule there,” Angaril added unexpectedly with a bit of a pout. “Are you not the least bit curious to see it? We will be so close – just a few days journey…”

A count to ten with closed eyes turned into a count to thirty, followed by a deep breath. Haldir opened his eyes and with a voice full of strained patience asked, “What happened the last time we left these people and went some place far away as a group?”

There was a long pause before Fereveldir timidly ventured, “They were attacked by orcs and the settlement was destroyed?”

“Correct. Now tell me why it would be a bad idea for us all to wander off and go explore Nargothrond leaving these people alone in strange lands to fend for themselves.”

“Because with our current run of luck, they will be attacked again and all will be killed and it would be our fault,” Ferevellon said quietly. “And then you would most likely execute us all to assuage your own guilt and to teach us a lesson.”

Haldir nodded with tightlipped grimace, “Most likely.”

“I hear the stars in Doriath are quite shiny this time of year,” Rúmil said brightly.

“Yes, I have heard the same. Perhaps we should find out for ourselves,” Orophin added.

“Yes, perhaps we should,” Angaril agreed.

Haldir scowled as he rolled up the map and thrust it toward Orophin for safe keeping. “And no one will wander off without my leave or he shall feel my wrath. I believe you all are familiar with that particular delight.”

They all nodded vigorously and stood, saluting their captain as he imperiously rose to his feet with a venomous glare and marched away.

Just before he left earshot, he heard someone curse and someone else mutter, “Looks like the Captain we all know and love has returned. Maybe the grandkids will chase His Evilness away again.”

“Not likely,” someone else answered.

The captain struggled valiantly not to laugh out loud. He actually was rather looking forward to meeting Beleg Cúthalion in Doriath, his favorite hero from history, but he was not about to tell his comrades that.

XXXXXXXXXXXX

Haldir never would have believed that travelling with such a large group of Galadhrim could be so trying on his patience. As they resumed their journey north, he found himself constantly reminding his brethren not to wander too far away and to stop dreaming aloud about what battles may have occurred nearby and what famous elves from history may have traversed the very ground they trod. Many more of the ellith were pregnant after the sojourn in Nan Tathren, which he feared would happen after succumbing to the “magic” of the place with his own wife. The children seemed to be so rejuvenated and healed of their fears that they were wandering away from their parents more frequently, causing much concern and many scoldings. On top of all of that, there was his wife convincing him to let go of his own little girl.

Gilien was his youngest daughter and he loved her dearly, doting on her more than he had the others for he believed at her birth that she would be his last child. She had her mother’s lovely eyes, beautiful voice, and enchanting presence. It was only a matter of time before some young ellon would succumb to her ways. So, as adar, Haldir made certain that he thoroughly scared her suitor Araras, drilling him hard as a warrior and holding him to a higher standard in his crafting and in all other ways before letting the young ellon take her for his wife. Haldir only gave in and let them marry so soon because his wife insisted. He could have waited at least another ennin or five before granting his permission.

Oh, he really hated willows now. Sure the land was beautiful and restful and tranquil, but it also made him more pliant to his wife’s conniving ways. Her idea of romance and beauty, which admittedly did completely enthrall him, also pushed her to convince him that Gilien should wed in such a memorable and lovely place. He only gave in – the ONLY reason he gave in was because, well…Gilwen had asked him.

That was it. He was her slave. That was his problem. He would have been fine if he were not so completely under her control.

As they passed beneath the last willow tree, heading north, Haldir withdrew his dagger and smacked a low hanging branch as hard as he could. The tree fussed at him, but he did not care. The stupid things had brought this…this joy and serenity on everyone, created such a healing balm for them all. Now HE was stuck with another son-in-law and …and worst of all his wife had just informed him that she had decided to name the daughter she carried Tathariel after the trees in this insidious valley.

Haldir resheathed his dagger, cursing under his breath in three languages as he sprinted after his eldest granddaughter who he suddenly realized was running straight for the river.

“Nellas! Stop! Nel-lasssss!” He yelled repeatedly as he ran, her parents in hot pursuit as well.

He caught up to the giggling little elleth first and grabbed her just before she jumped into the rushing flow. Holding her tightly, trying to calm himself, he was about to begin scolding her when her parents caught up and took her off his hands.

Breathing hard and choking back the shear panic he had felt, there was no doubt in his mind that the valley of willows was cursed with lovely, healing perfection, and he hoped he never laid eyes on it again.

XXXXXXXXXXX

fae - spirit

Tathariel – maid of the willows

XXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Chapter 20

“Captain!” Haldir’s brother-in-law Brethil and Brethil’s eldest son panted, trying to catch their breath. “there…there…”

“Yes?” Haldir patiently asked, his brothers and Lórien comrades joining him.

Brethil recovered first. “Brother, I believe we may have a problem.”

“With…” Haldir prompted.

“I do not wish to cause a panic,” Brethil answered, lowering his voice considerably.

Suddenly concerned, Haldir answered back in an equally quiet voice, “What is wrong? What did you find that has alarmed you so that you ran all the way back to report it?”

Brethil hesitated. “The river, Haldir, it…it issues forth from tunnels in some rocks. There is no way we can follow the flow of it as we have been.”

Haldir sighed in relief, letting out a breath he had not realized he held. He clapped both of his scouts on the shoulder at the same time. “Please be at peace. I believe what you have described is called the Gates of Sirion. This is good news. It means that we are nearer to Doriath than I had hoped.”

“But the river flows underground for some leagues north of this point of issue as best we can tell. What shall we do? How shall we follow it?” Brethil’s son asked clearly still very concerned.

“As soon as the entire group arrives there, we can plan how best to proceed. The river runs underground for three leagues.”

“How do you know this, Haldir? I was part of your travels when you made your maps. You never travelled this far north – at least not while you have been among the Galadhrim of Celos Galen. How do you know this? How have you known any of the things you have known since our journey began?” Brethil stared hard at Haldir as if daring him not to tell the truth.

“We have our sources,” Orophin replied trying to calm the situation.

“Is that so? And what would those be?” Brethil looked every bit the chieftain he was destined to be should Damrod ever be lost to them.

For a time no one moved nor spoke as the tension among the ellyn grew almost palpable. Finally Haldir shifted, withdrawing the map of Beleriand and partially unrolled it to reveal the portion depicting their forest and Doriath. “This,” he confessed, his quiet voice dangerously calm as he quelled his own worry and exasperation at having to reveal this well-guarded secret. He held the exposed portion of the map for the two ellyn to see.

“This is how we have known where to go. We do not know the proper distances but we…we ‘came into knowledge’ of the information on this map when we were in Lothlórien. We heard tales of Doriath and the peoples who hoped to one day build that kingdom and dwell there.”

Brethil looked at the map, his face as filled with awe as his son’s. Carefully, he traced the outline of the forest from which they had come and then followed the line of the river northward to the image representing the Gates of Sirion.

“You…” he started, “You drew this from tales? Then perhaps corrected and added to it as you explored?”

Haldir nodded, briefly noticing the fear in the eyes of his brethren at the potentially dangerous revelations he was making.

After a few moments, Brethil looked around the group, his curious gaze filled with a sudden compassion. “When you six left Lothlórien and came to Beleriand, did you intend to go to Doriath and join with the peoples there?  Is that where you were going when you were attacked by the…the orcs before we found you?”

Catching the eyes of each of his comrades and their barely perceived nods, Haldir replied more confidently, yet still very softly. “Yes.”

Brethil smiled grimly. “But you never made it and you ended up with us instead.” He shook his head. “My friends, I marvel at your bravery to leave your home as you did and travel as far as you did…pursuing a hope, a… ‘dream’ based on tales.” He paused a moment, shaking his head in disbelief, then his smile broadened.

“I would say that you are all very great fools for undertaking this venture into the unknown. However we were blessed in more ways than we imagined possible for your having come among us just as you were blessed in ways I do not believe you imagined.”

Haldir and his brethren smiled briefly and nodded, but did not quite relax at those words.

“I would know more of what the markings mean on this map,” Brethil pointed to the words on the map written in Cirth. “These do not show pictures of the places on the map in the way that this shows a forest and this shows hills. What do these mean?”

A glance exchanged among the group showed Haldir that he was not the only one not liking this new turn of the conversation. Fortunately, he was spared having to answer for Damrod walked up at that moment and asked his son and grandson for news of the road ahead. Haldir discreetly handed the map to Orophin who quickly rolled it up and put it away as Damrod reacted to the news of the river’s change.

When the discussion finished, Haldir strategically pointed out to Damrod how weary the two scouts obviously were and the chieftain led them away for feeding and rest, relieving Haldir of having to answer awkward questions about a written language which may not even have been invented yet.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

“Well, what did you see?” Haldir asked his brothers as he helped each one climb the rest of the way out of the river, handing their still lit torches to those standing nearest.

Rúmil gratefully accepted the dry cloak his wife wrapped around him, patting her hand where it lingered on his left shoulder as he sat down. “By the light of the torches, we could see far into the three tunnels. There is no way we could travel underground and follow the river. I will say though that what I saw was quite beautiful.”

Orophin nodded in agreement from where he sat wrapped in a dry cloak beside his wife.

“It was beautiful?” Haldir asked curiously. “I was not expecting to hear that. Are you certain that you are not part dwarf?”

His brothers laughed.

“It was incredible,” Rúmil clarified. “As we swam along, the torchlight shimmered and reflected all around us, we saw gemstones twinkling like tiny stars in the walls and the ceiling. It was like the descriptions of the crystal caves that dwarf Gimli spoke of when he sojourned in Lórien before –”

Rúmil’s expression clouded with memory and Haldir placed an understanding hand on his brother’s right shoulder as Rúmil pursed his lips and bowed his head.

Orophin gave a thin-lipped, understanding smile. “It still hurts, does it not? And it floods the heart when least expected.”

Rúmil nodded and closed his eyes without raising his head.

“What I think Rúmil was going to say, if I may finish for him, is that we also saw glowworms. It was so strangely beautiful and simply amazing. Also the rush of the river and drip of tiny droplets from the walls echoed so musically,” Orophin said almost wistfully. “But it is a way we simply cannot travel. We would do best to journey over land until we reach the falls.”

Haldir nodded. “Taurion, please tell your daeradar that we will travel straight north over the ground instead of trying to follow the river underground. As soon as we get your uncles dressed in dry clothes, we can continue.” Haldir looked at his brothers for confirmation and Orophin shrugged as he rose to his feet while Rúmil’s sons gave their adar a few moments to get himself under control before helping him to stand. 

Not long after that, they continued on their way.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Using the stars to guide them now that the river was nowhere to be seen, they travelled three leagues over flat plains and then through some rocky hills before they were forced to stop again.

“All right, now what?” Brethil asked Haldir as they stood staring straight up at the waterfalls which cascaded loudly and rather gloriously into an enormous pool whose tendrils snaked through some rocks then disappeared into the ground.  “Do your tales or your map have anything useful to say about what to do next?”

Haldir stood in silence, hopelessly considering the waterfall and the rocky hills around them. He had to admit that it was indeed very impressive and very loud and stunningly beautiful –and very much insurmountable for such a large group. Suddenly he caught a thought from his wife who silently moved up beside him and wrapped her arms around his right arm.

“No!” he said quite firmly “Absolutely not! And not another word about it.”

Gilwen looked over at him, clearly affronted. “Did I say anything, husband?”

“You did not have to. You thought it.”

“What? What are you talking about?” she asked irritably.

Brethil leaned over and whispered, “You do have time before the rest of the group catches up to us.”

“Why are you agreeing with her?” Haldir demanded.

“I have not said or thought anything for you to agree or disagree with!” Gilwen exclaimed.

“I was not aware that we are taking sides in this. I just know your ah…habits and you have time to shall we say, gather firewood by the waterfall if you wish to,” Brethil continued, ignoring his sister.

“Oh! What a lovely idea,” Gilwen agreed delightedly.

Haldir glared at his brother-in-law. “I hate you and I hate your family.”

“Yes, you hate us enough to marry into it and even add multiple generations to it. Clearly, we are grave enemies.”

Haldir glared daggers at his wife’s evil brother. “I still hate you.”

“And I hate you, too. Now go before anyone else catches up and gets the same idea.”

Gilwen dragged her grumbling husband away to a nice secluded spot just behind the falls as he wondered all the while why he was allowing her to do this. The Galadhrim of Lothlórien were not like this. What was the problem with these people that they had to acknowledge every unusual feature of the land in this manner?

Just before the noise of the falls drowned out all other sound, Haldir heard Brethil and his wife discussing them.

“At least he is finally starting to think like we do. It took him long enough.”

“How do you know my sister was not thinking about such things?” Brethil asked

“Because she and I were discussing other things.”

Brethil laughed. “I cannot wait until he makes this realization on his own that he finally really is one of us now.”

XXXXXXXXXXXXX

Haldir leaned over, offering a hand to help his wife to stand. Gilwen smiled.

“Thank you, my love. Soon enough it will be difficult for me to stand on my own again.”

He smiled back. “How well I remember from the others. However, I think the problems will happen sooner because you carry two.”

Gilwen wrapped her arms around Haldir’s waist and they held each other close. “I just hope we arrive in Doriath before travel becomes too difficult for me.”

“Do not worry. You will be there in plenty of time to set up a nice home for yourselves before the babies arrive.”

Startled, Gilwen and Haldir both turned at the sound of the voice, seeing an ellon shimmering behind the curtain of the falls.

“Who are you?” Gilwen asked in dismay, drawing closer to her husband.

Haldir relaxed, rubbing his wife’s back with one hand as he held out the other to gesture in introduction.

“Lord Ulmo, this is my beloved wife, Gilwen. Gilwen, this is the Balan Ulmo, Lord of Waters. He is a brother of Araw the Hunter.”

Gilwen bowed her head and gave a low curtsy. Haldir bowed low as well.

“I am deeply honored, my Lord” she whispered.

Ulmo smiled warmly. “I am honored to meet you as well.”

Straightening in unison with Haldir, Gilwen kept her head bowed in reverence and asked, “Y-You know of our journey?”

Ulmo’s smile deepened, his eyes sparkling like starlit pools. “Yes, Child, I know of your journey. Your husband was wise enough to ask for my aid and I have given it as well as my protection to your people since your time of rest before you left the forest.”

Gilwen looked at Haldir in bewildered surprise. “You asked for his aid? How did you even know he existed or that he would help us or how to talk to him?”

Ulmo saved Haldir the trouble of answering. “The people of Lothlórien know a great many things and have learned much over the many ennin. Haldir is an apt student of lore and used that knowledge to contact me. I am pleased with him for asking for my aid and even more pleased that I could render aid to you in your time of need.”

Wonder and awe filed Gilwen’s face as she gazed on her husband. “I have known you for so long and yet I…I feel as if I have only just met you. How could you have kept such knowledge from me and for so long? I thought that we had shared so much already.”

“Your husband is well aware that knowledge of the Belain is limited among those who remained behind and did not make the journey to Valinor. His wisdom guided him in his choice of what tales to tell and what knowledge to impart. Have he and his comrades not taught your people much over the ennin you have known him, young Gilwen?”

She nodded.

Haldir turned her in his arms so that she faced him fully. “I have…we have told what we felt comfortable revealing over these ennin. We do not hide our knowledge out of pride or vanity. We simply realize that not everyone has had the experiences we have had and therefore, they may well not believe what we have to say.”

Gilwen turned back toward Ulmo and tentatively reached into the water, suddenly drawing back her hand in shock as she touched him.

Grinning broadly, Ulmo assured her,:”I am indeed real and solid. Do not be afraid of me. I am only here to help you. Which reminds me,” he paused and the image of him vanished to be replaced by a vision of a path snaking up into some rocky hills. “Go due west from the falls and look for this trail. It will lead you on an easy path up to the river above the falls and directly to the fens.”

Haldir gazed long at the image, burning the landmarks into his memory.

“Do you have it?” The Lord of Waters asked.

“Yes,” Haldir confirmed and Gilwen nodded alongside him as well as the image shifted back to that of the Balan.

“Excellent! I will send you a guide to see you safely across the fens when you arrive there.”

“Thank you, my Lord,” Haldir bowed in gratitude.

“Oh, and one more thing,” Ulmo said as his image began to fade. “As much as I appreciate the ah…homage you Galadhrim pay to new features of the land, please understand that fens are no place to gather firewood.”

Both Haldir and his wife blanched in horror then blushed violently at the dawning realization that Ulmo knew what they had been doing beside waterfalls and at different points along the river.

Ulmo’s booming laugh lingered in the spray of the water long after his image vanished.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Haldir remained perfectly still, eyes closed, listening intently to all that went on around him. Acutely aware of every sensation in his body, he used his long ennin of training to keep his breathing deep and calm, giving no sign to anyone. However, what he heard confused him greatly. Somewhere to his left, Chieftain Damrod and the elder edair were holding council some distance away but near enough for him to hear all that they said.

“I have nothing but respect for the ellon,” one of the edair said.

“Indeed, he is a great captain for the warriors and wise as any lord among our kind,” another remarked.

“Truly, I have considered asking him to be chieftain alongside me. Though this is not the way of our people, his wisdom and skill in leading our folk through this journey have given me pause and made me strongly consider doing this. The way he has guided us along on our journey thus far and his guidance of late simply astound me.” Damrod signed then continued, his voice full of near reverent emotion.

“He used his full knowledge of the gifts of our people and our ways in wood craft and lore to guide us around the falls and through the fens. He knew we could travel rope bridges and used them to cross those deep ravines. He knew we could leap from tree to tree even with babes in arms and with some of our ellith pregnant. Never did he give us a task too great to handle. Always he took the most dangerous path for himself. He was the only one who fell when crossing those great rocks. When that branch gave way it was with him on it as the last to cross after seeing to the safety of the rest. When the rocks fell and pinned his ankle, he it was who had pushed the last person out of the way so the danger only fell upon him and no other.”

Many sighed in reverent acknowledgement.

“What of the fens?” another added. “He it was who trod the unsafe path to protect that child who ran off. He it was who drew the attention of the great stag which leapt all the way across the fens seemingly at the Lord Captain’s command-”

Many gave cries of agreement, interrupting the speaker.

“Aye, we should call him Lord Captain for truly he deserves this great title and honor!”

The elder continued on reverently, “Thus leading us safely across the stinking marshes such that the rest of us trod only on solid ground, assuring our safe passage.”

“’Twas a pity he struck his head when he fell,” another said sadly.

“But his wife is a great healer and our warriors gladly - indeed proudly - bore him the rest of the way across the fens to the safety of our camp here at the joining of the two rivers.”

Many murmurs of agreement followed and someone suddenly raised a voice in song.

Praise to our Captain, mighty and strong

Lord of the forest, worthy of song…

To Haldir’s right however, an entirely different conversation was taking place.

“I think he is cursed,” Ferevellon said or was it Fereveldir? Haldir never could tell them apart by voice alone.

“What could your brother possibly have done to anger a Balan?” Gilwen asked, her voice trembling in dismay.

“Our brother?” Rúmil asked irritably. “He is your husband, Gilwen and the adar of your children.”

“I know,” she fairly whimpered. “I just hoped to distance myself from the relation until we know for certain if Ulmo is finished punishing him. Why does he not simply kill him outright and be done with it?”

“Are you certain it was Ulmo who appeared to you two by the falls and told you take that path?” Orophin asked. “Perhaps it was actually Morgoth deceiving you.”

“Haldir said it was Ulmo, and I touched the Balan and…and I felt nervous and afraid, but no evil came from him. Haldir was convinced that it was the Lord of the Waters,” Gilwen said.

“We scouted out the way before ever leading our folk upon each part of the path. There truly was no other viable way than the way we traversed,” Angaril commented in support of Haldir.

“But Ulmo said it was a safe path,” Gilwen added.

“I am beginning to suspect that perhaps a Balan’s idea of safe and an elf’s idea of safe are two entirely different things,” Angaril said. “And somehow I suspect that Haldir would rather strongly agree with me on that one.”

“How are his injuries?” Orophin asked.

“The ankle is mending well. His wrist is still swollen and will have to be splinted for at least ten more turns of the stars. When he awakens, I can better assess the extent of his head injury and see what he remembers,” Gilwen replied. “Thank you for carrying him.”

“Yes, about that,” Rúmil said in mild irritation, “what have you been feeding him? I swear he has put on weight since we left Celos Galen.”

“I can assure you, it is muscle,” she said.

Haldir felt someone lift his shirt and pinch his side and then his side was pinched again rather harder. That second one he thought might leave a bruise, but still he did not moan nor flinch.

“Feels rather like fat to me,” Rúmil commented, and Haldir was pinched yet again.

There was the sound of slapping and the pinching stopped as Rúmil suddenly yelped.

“Rúmil, go away and leave the injured in peace,” Angaril cried in exasperation. “Now is not the time to torment your poor brother. Has the ellon not been through enough already without you adding to it?”

Assuming the role of second in command, Angaril added, “Come brethren, let us away to see to our families and retrieve the grandchildren from any mischief they may have found with two rivers to tempt them. Gilwen, I will send one of your daughters to you with some food. Will you be all right here alone with him for a few minutes?”

“Unless Ulmo decides to show up in person and finish him off, I will be fine,” Gilwen assured with somewhat resigned irritation.

As soon as the sounds of the departure of those nearest to him died away, Haldir heard Gilwen whisper in his ear, “I know you heard every word that your brethren said. I will send you off into a healing sleep now, my love. Perhaps you will be in less pain when you next awaken.”

Her fingers traced the side of his face and down his neck to pat one of the few unbruised spots on his chest.

“And next time you think to call upon a Balan for aid, please choose one that actually likes the Galadhrim and does not despise us as this one seems to,” Gilwen pleaded.

She kissed his mouth and he returned the kiss. He felt the first notes of her healing song brush his lips and he gratefully was asleep again before she reached the second verse.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Author’s Note: I wrote the descriptions using Christopher Tolkien’s map and interpreting it as I saw fit for my story. I also had seen a description of the Andram as appearing as a series of hills when looking at it from the south but looking like a sheer drop off when looking at it from the north.

Ennin – period of 144 years

Edair- fathers

Adar- father

Balan - Vala

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

 The ellon smiled and waved, gesturing to Haldir.

His bandaged left arm around his pregnant wife whose rounded belly was starting to show, Haldir nodded to his children and grandchildren accompanying him. Nervously, he limped forward, giving the ellon a formal greeting in Sindarin.

Sweeping back the hood of his forest green cloak, the grey-clad ellon smiled and returned the greeting.  “What brings you here to the borders of Doriath? Do you seek passage across the river?”

Haldir smiled amiably, yet humbly as well, trying to be an unassuming as possible. “Aye, we do. My kin and I wish to enter Doriath. We heard that King Elu Thingol is most generous to those seeking refuge inside his borders.”

The ellon sized up the family of elves before him, obviously noting the pregnant elleth and the infants and toddler. “Why do you travel at a time such as this? Whence are you come?”

Haldir bowed his head briefly before meeting the other elf’s eyes. “We travel under these circumstances,” Haldir paused and patted his wife’s belly with his splinted left hand for emphasis “out of necessity. We have crossed many leagues for many turns of the stars to come here from Taur-im-Duinath. Our village of Celos Galen was destroyed. We seek a new home.”

The ellon cocked his head to the side, starring at Haldir quizzically. “Taur-im-Duinath…,” he echoed, then slowly shook his head. “I was unaware that any folk dwelt in that dark forest. Of what kindred are you?”

“We are of the Galadhrim,” Taurion answered proudly.

“Is that so?” The ellon looked dubiously at Taurion. “Why do folk of the trees wander beside a river of all things and journey so far from the safety of bough and limb? I seem to recall folk of your kind dwelling high in the canopies and seldom treading on the ground.”

“When the need is great, one does what one must in order to protect one’s family,” Haldir replied looking contrite. But as soon as the ellon turned his head away, Haldir shot his eldest son a warning look to silence his mouth and his pride. Taurion scowled in return, but complied.

The ellon gestured in the direction of the river and four more ellyn approached, carrying long poles. “I suppose you look harmless enough, a small family such as yourselves. You are not the first to come here seeking refuge in our lands, nor, do I deem, will you be the last.”

“Castamir, ferry these good folk across the river,” the ellon called to a slightly shorter ellon clad all in brown with dark gold hair pulled back in a single braid.

“You have our deepest gratitude,” Haldir said, giving a low bow which his sons copied. “However…we are not the only ones seeking refuge.” He straightened and turned, waving his good arm and immediately the rest of the refugees of Celos Galen swarmed out of the woods around them.

The ferrymen looked stunned. The ellon with whom Haldir had been conversing gazed about, mouth agape, taking in the large number of ellith and children, then finally said, “Ah…I suppose I was rather presumptuous to assume that you were the only survivors. We shall see that all of you safely cross the river and are taken to the king.”

Haldir smiled, “Thank you. Again, you have our deepest gratitude. Any assistance you can provide to us would be most appreciated.”

The Galadhrim with the exception of the ellyn of Lórien regarded the rafts uncertainly, clearly not trusting them to carry them safely. With knowing smiles, the ferrymen kindly began helping folk onto large wooden rafts made of logs lashed tightly together. Using long poles, they guided the rafts across the wide stretch of river, finally docking on the other side some minutes later. As soon as a raft was unloaded, the ferryman started back and retrieved more passengers. Even with five rafts making the journeys, it took nearly three hours to bring everyone across the river.

“Well played,” Angaril commented once all of the rafts were out of earshot of the elves on the Doriath side of the river. He glanced over at the crowd still waiting for passage on the opposite shore. “I must admit I never knew you could look so pitiful and unintimidating as you did when trying to convince that ellon to give you passage.”

Haldir shrugged. “I was not feeling very intimidating, I must admit. Also, I knew he was not alone. I figured our chances were better if we appeared tired and weak and in need than if strong warriors showed up demanding passage.”

“Well, it worked very well, Captain. Have they said what will happen once we are all over on this side?”

“No, they have said nothing yet. My heart warns me that we should continue to play the refugees in need and do nothing threatening or to reveal our strength if we can help it. I do not want to jeopardize our chances of obtaining help and a new home for our people.”

“But why, Adar?” Taurion asked affronted. “Why must we pretend to be weak? We have great warriors among us who are strong and capable.”

Haldir turned to his son and grasped his shoulder with his good hand. “We must appear weak and tired so that they will help us and not feel threatened by us. They are less likely to extend their welcome to an intimidating powerful unknown.  But pity for pregnant ellith, small children, and injured ellyn will likely move them to give us easy passage. I know as a former march warden that I would be kind and lenient to folk in need but respond more harshly to the armed and arrogant. Do you understand my reasoning?”

Taurion sighed, reluctantly nodding his assent, but clearly not liking it.

“Good lad,” Haldir smiled.

“Understood as well,” Angaril nodded. “I will pass the word along to be humble and grateful and follow your lead in this.”

“Now we just have to wait for the rest of the folk to cross,” Haldir said, taking his wife’s hand as he sat on the ground and drew her down to sit with him. Many others joined him, sitting as well while they patiently waited.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

“Tell me, Castamir,” Haldir asked casually as they walked along the well-worn path northward beside the river, “Are you ferrymen part of the border patrol for Doriath?”

“Border patrol?” Castamir looked at Haldir curiously.  “Ahhhh…I must admit I have never heard of such a thing. My kin and I are fishermen and the king asked that the ellyn of our village help folk to cross the river if there is need. If we meet folk who seek passage while we are about our tasks and they do not seem threatening, then we assist them if there is need. We deemed that you were in need, so we helped you. Our village is just south of where we met you.”

“Thank you for helping us,” Haldir humbly replied.

Castamir smiled, “Your folk number more than our whole village. I do not know that I have ever seen so many children and pregnant ellith before. Even in Menegroth, I do not think there are as many as in your…ah…group.”

“Group is a good way to describe us,” Haldir chuckled. “We are all that remains of three settlements.”

“All that remains?” Castamir asked in shock. “How…how many were you before the attack?”

“It was a series of attacks on three settlements. Before it all happened, the population of the three settlements combined numbered more than five hundred,” Haldir replied.

“Five hundred!” Castamir exclaimed with a whistle for emphasis. “Five hundred…” he shook his head. “Your settlements must have known peace for many ennin indeed for you to number so many. Only in Menegroth are there so many gathered together in one place here. In fact, there are thousands who live there. Have you ever even seen one thousand elves gathered in one settlement?”

Haldir walked in silence for a few moments gathering his thoughts. Many thousands had lived in Lothlórien and he had seen many thousands die in the Last Alliance. At last he replied, “We knew many ennin of peace in our forest in the south. In Cuiviénen there were thousands, but in our forest, our greatest population was what we had right before the attacks started.”

“I am sorry for your loss. It must be very difficult to leave beloved lands and start again, but is that not how we all arrived here in Beleriand anyway?”

Haldir smiled at the ellon. “Indeed it is.”

A while later, Haldir took his turn holding a child, gathering his infant grandson in his arms much to the relief of the boy’s weary naneth. The child immediately snuggled close and drifted off to sleep while Castamir hummed a spritely tune.

Haldir watched Castamir in curious alarm until the tune ended, then at Gilwen’s prodding he asked, “How…how do you know that tune?”

The guide paused and smiled. “It is the song of the river. If you recognize this tune then you have heard the water speak to you as I have heard it speak to me and others in my village.”

Haldir stopped dead, his younger son nearly running into him.

“Adar!” Handir exclaimed.

Gilwen swatted at her son to silence him and he growled back at her in irritation, “I am not a child, Naneth.”

“Then stop acting like one and pay attention to your surroundings,” she snapped back.

“The song of the river!” Haldir exclaimed ignoring his family.  Castamir stopped as well and retraced his steps to join Haldir.

“Why, yes,” The ellon replied as if it were extremely obvious. “All ellyn who dwell by the river know the song. It is as if the music flows in our very blood.”

Haldir stared open-mouthed at the ferryman. Finally he managed, “But I played that tune at Nan Tathren never having heard the melody before.”

Castamir laughed merrily then clapped Haldir on the back sympathetically. “Perhaps my friend your fae is more of the water than it is of the wood.” He chuckled some more then leaned close to Haldir’s ear and whispered. “Do not worry, my friend, I will tell no one so your woodland folk do not think less of you.”

Haldir scowled in reply, but Castamir took him by the arm, careful not to disturb the sleeping baby, and tugged for him to continue the walk.

When they matched pace once again, the ellon confessed, “Haldir, I must admit that I liked you from the moment I met you. Something in my heart told me that it would be well to befriend you. If you hear the song of the river as well, then I believe our spirits must be kin even if our blood is not.”

The words struck Haldir and he realized that this ferryman had been sent by Ulmo to guide them.

“As a further gesture of good will, I will help you when you arrive at Menegroth. My kinsman serves the king as his chief protector. I will introduce you to him and perhaps he will be able to speak to the king on your behalf and find you a place in the service of the king.”

Haldir stared in surprised. “You know Beleg Cúthalion?” Suddenly he felt embarrassed that he was unable to keep the awe from his voice.

Castamir stared at him blankly. “Who?”

“Beleg Cúthalion. The greatest bowman in all of Doriath. The leader of the king’s march wardens.”

Castamir looked askance at Haldir, then groped for his next words in an overly polite manner. “I…ah…oh…Perhaps rumors you have heard of Doriath have not been entirely factual. Dwelling as far from this land as you have, it would be understandable if tales become…ah…more enhanced? Mablung is the one of whom I speak. And I must confess that I do not even know what a march warden is.”

Haldir stopped again.

“Friend, please keep walking. You are confusing those behind you,” Castamir gently chided.

Resuming his walk, though at a slower pace with much grumbling from his family travelling behind him, a rather crestfallen Haldir hollowly stated, “Mablung is your kinsman and you know nothing of Beleg.”

“Do not sound so disappointed! ‘Mighty Strongbow’ is a rather presumptuous name for an ellon is it not? Obviously he comes from a tale made up to encourage children to be good hunters. What a horrible burden to a son to give him such a name! Now my kinsman Mablung, let me tell you of him…”

Haldir was so disappointed, he had difficulty paying attention. No Beleg Cúthalion! At least not yet... He had been weaned on stories of the mightiest warrior of Beleriand. Idolizing him his whole life, he patterned his methods of fighting and commanding after the noble ellon. It was not fair that here he was in the time before Anor and Ithil against all odds and beyond all reason, and it was his misfortune to be before the time of Beleg as well… It simply was not fair!

Angrily, he kicked every stone he encountered in his path until the irritating kinsman of Mablung finally ended his proud rant about the great defender of the king.

Yes, it would be interesting to meet Mablung, but Beleg was the one he wanted to meet most of all. Briefly he wondered why they were even bothering to go to Doriath since Beleg was not there. Then he got a grip on himself and accepted that going to Doriath was the right thing to do, and if Beleg were not there yet, then perhaps he would get to meet him soon, perhaps as a young warrior. Clinging to that hope, he continued on in silence.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Haldir tried not to gape, but every time he clamped his mouth shut, he saw something else which made it open wide in wonder once again. Being a son of the Galadhrim he really had no desire to ever see a palace of caves. Yes, he had seen Thranduil’s Halls many times, and they were indeed impressive with the detail and care taken to bring the semblance of a lively outdoors to dead stone. And he of course had seen the grandeur and terror of Moria on more than one occasion as well…But this…He had never before wondered about Menegroth nor dreamt of coming here, but now…

The words to describe the wonders before his eyes thoroughly escaped him. It was unfortunate that only seven of the refugees were allowed to enter Menegroth to go before the king. Haldir had no idea of how he would ever adequately describe this place to his kin waiting outside for him in the forest of Region. He felt like a foolish child unable to look around enough to satisfy his curiosity at the glorious beauty of…of caves. Tapestries woven by Melian the Maia, queen of Doriath and her maids covered the walls. Fine intricate carvings in the ceiling and walls made it seem as if Haldir walked within a glorious forest full of trees and animals and streams and…and as if life had grown within the caverns.

And this was a cave? He kept forgetting this small detail as he walked in awe.

Behind him, Angaril kept starting to say something and stopping until he succumbed to swats and punches in the arms delivered by his comrades from Lórien who felt he was disturbing their own awestruck experience with his gibbering. It did occur to Haldir that perhaps Angaril was indeed part dwarf, but then, if he were simply responding to the wonders around him as Haldir was, then it was possible that Haldir was part dwarf, too… If it were not for the fact that Haldir had visited other dwarf dwellings before so he knew that they failed to compare to the majesty of Menegroth, then he might have feared the real possibility of having gone dwarfish as well. He would chuckle about the absurdity of it all, if he were not so concerned that he might miss seeing something.

He had no idea how many corridors and twists and turns of passages they had followed before they finally arrived at the throne room, but upon entering it, Haldir truly did not care how he came to be there. Many lords garbed in obviously Sindarin grandeur lined the aisle to the throne. Damrod seemed to be very uncomfortable bordering on terrified, but Haldir was used to being surrounded by nobles and treating with lords from his many ennin serving as guard or escort in Lórien. However, he was also used to respect and well-earned honor from such individuals, unlike what he saw in the ellyn surrounding him here. Contempt shown in some eyes, while others seemed to dismiss his party as unimpressive and unworthy of a second glance. A few curious gazes looked upon his group as an oddity from the dark wild lands of a forest none of them had ever explored.

Haldir would like to have dismissed them all from his thought, but he knew he needed to gain their acceptance in order for his people to have a safe home here. Steeling his resolve, he whispered to Damrod to let him do the talking and the chieftain gave no argument. Haldir raised his chin proudly and looked to the thrones ahead of him, ignoring those surrounding him. He would make his case whatever way he could to try to win hope and succor for the Galadhrim. However, when he reached the end of the walk forward, he felt his confidence and resolve melt at the vision before his eyes.

King Elu Thingol sat tall and straight, garbed in robes of shadowy forest green with his silvery hair flowing about him like a waterfall cascading off a cliff. A crown of silver, gemstones, and flowers rested lightly upon his brow.  His queen (or was it more appropriate to think of him as her king? Haldir briefly wondered) graced the throne beside him. Her dress of silver and green was studded with tiny shimmering gems, while similar sparkling jewels adorned her pure black hair like stars in a moonless sky.

To the king’s right stood an ellon with a tall wicked spear who was obviously his chief protector Mablung. A scowl and a cool appraisal met Haldir’s steady gaze and he knew immediately that he would have to prove himself well to this obviously harsh ellon if he ever wanted to have a chance as a march warden here. The chief of Lórien’s march wardens never backed down under the scrutiny, which seemed to surprise Mablung.

To the queen’s left stood an elleth whom Haldir could have sworn was Lady Arwen, the Lady Galadriel’s granddaughter, but he knew it could not be so. The maid’s beauty surpassed that of the queen and the longer he looked, the more he realized she surpassed Arwen’s as well. Her bright eyes met his and he felt himself go red for his staring at her so. She smiled in puzzled wonder, seeming to perceive his instant recognition of her for he could not possibly have seen her before. Mustering his resolve, he managed to avert his eyes and look back at her parents who now added mild amusement to their noble regard.

For all of the kings Haldir had seen in his many long years, all of the ruling lords, ladies, and princes, Oropher, Thranduil, Amdir, Amroth, Círdan, Gil-Galad, Elrond, Celeborn, and Galadriel among them… none compared to the king and queen seated before him now. Without thought, without hesitation, as soon as Haldir was led before the thrones, he bowed and fell to his knees with bowed head as did his brethren and Damrod the chieftain. Perhaps it was not such a good idea for him to do the talking after all…

“Arise and speak your names and purpose,” Thingol commanded, his voice deep and melodic.

Haldir and his group obediently rose to their feet. “My name is Haldir of the Galadhrim. This is Damrod my chieftain and the adar of my wife. These are my brothers Rúmil and Orophin, and my gwedyr Angaril, Ferevellon, and Fereveldir.”

“If he is chieftain, why does he not speak for you?” Thingol asked, gesturing to Damrod.

“He newly speaks Sindarin and is not as comfortable with the language as am I,” Haldir replied humbly.

“I am told you journeyed here from a village that is no more,” the king said.

“That is correct. In truth, we are the survivors of three villages which are no more. Wargs attacked one settlement, killing ellith, children, and ellyn, including the chieftain and his son. A few turns of the stars later, orcs attacked destroying the two remaining settlements, including Celos Galen which was the last stronghold of the Galadhrim in Taur-im-Duinath. Trained warriors fought bravely to defend each settlement, but we were outnumbered. We have led approximately three hundred survivors here to Doriath seeking succor and safety. There are many ellith and small children among the refugees, including many ellith who are with child.”

“Taur-im-Duinath is far from here, my King” Mablung commented. “I know of no one who has ever explored that forest, but rumor tells of secretive folk who hide in the trees, seldom treading upon the ground. How could such a group have made such a long and dangerous journey? And crossed the Andram AND the Fens?” he glared dubiously at the ellyn of Celos Galen.

Haldir gave a small smile. “We have indeed travelled far on a long and difficult journey. And while you may not have heard tell of us, rumors of the might of Doriath and the generosity of the king have travelled far and wide. You helped Denethor settle Ossiriand with his Green Elves. We knew the kingdom of Doriath was to the north of our lands bordered by the River Sirion, so we followed the river north through Nan Tathren. Carefully we made our way over the perilous wall of Andram and across the Fens of Sirion. We are a hardy folk, as comfortable on ropes or in the branches of trees as we are on the ground, so we were able to make this journey.” He held up his hand which still bore the splint. “Not all of us came through this venture unscathed, but we are here now and we seek refuge.”

“We have heard report of orc attacks throughout Beleriand and wargs attacking from southern lands as well,” Thingol agreed, “However we have yet to hear tell of trained warriors. What would those be?”

Looking at the ornate floor for a moment, Haldir sighed. No Beleg Strongbow and no warriors in Doriath. So, in all likelihood, no march wardens either. This would be like coming to Celos Galen from Lórien all over again, only worse. He glanced up at Mablung who was glaring at him dubiously in open challenge.

Much, much worse…

“Warriors are ellyn who are taught fighting skills and held to a higher standard of prowess with arms in order to defend others. My comrades and I…” He gestured to the ellyn behind him, excluding Damrod as he patiently explained, “are trained warriors. We taught select ellyn of the three settlements of the Galadhrim to fight with the skills of a warrior using sword, spear, bow, and bare hands, as well as employing maps and well-contemplated strategy. For a number of ennin, we kept all manner of evil creatures at bay and brought safety to our lands long enough for the populations of the three settlements to more than double to a little more than five hundred total. Our warriors held off some early attacks by orcs, and we hunted and killed wargs before the final assaults that overwhelmed us with sheer numbers and destroyed our homes.”

“If you have…warriors,” the words rang with contempt, “as you have so proudly boasted, then why do you need our help? Can you not simply hide in the trees again somewhere else in your dark forest as appears to be your wont?” Thingol asked, clearly unimpressed. His expression suggested that Haldir was wasting his time.

“Your Majesty,” Haldir said in supplication, choosing his words carefully, “while it has long been the way of the Galadhrim to move settlements as soon their safety becomes compromised, we finally have reached a point where moving within our forest is no longer an option. It is only a matter of time before the growing evil in our forest threatens any and all who seek to dwell there. I felt that Doriath was our only option, so I led the survivors here.”

“YOU felt…YOU led…” Thingol laughed derisively. “You who are not the chieftain! Obviously you do not know your place or you would not seek to thwart the rule of those who are your betters. Do you use your wife’s title as daughter of the chieftain to exert some semblance of authority and gain power for yourself? Were you hoping to come here and be made a lord or gain more power or authority for yourself just as Denethor left his people’s chieftain and was made a king, THE King of Ossiriand?”

Haldir gaped in shock. How did the king ever arrive at such an outrageous conclusion? Anger welled up within him, but he tightly clamped it down. Breathing heavily, he tried very hard to calm himself. King or no, how could anyone ever accuse him of such a thing? He would freely admit that he was arrogant to a fault, but he never tried to gain power for himself nor to lord it over others. All he did was with the safety of his people in his mind and heart. He was willing to die for his people and here he was being accused of leading them to this land simply to gain power for himself!

“How dare you!” Damrod suddenly spoke up. “King or no, how dare you accuse him so! Ever has this ellon sought to aid and protect our people – a people who were not his own by birth, coming from a far distant land to the east as he does. He may not be a lord or chieftain, granted power and sway by birth, but he is a captain – the captain of the warriors of the three settlements of the Galadhrim.” He paused looking around, then continued, anger and contempt dripping from his voice.

“I see from your eyes that none of you in this great kingdom appear to know what captain is. Captain is a position of authority in defensive matters appointed by a lord or chieftain. A captain rules warriors, guides defense, sees to the protection of others, willingly endangers himself and his sworn brethren to keep others safe. He uses wisdom and right judgment as well as skill at arms to see to the safety of all. Captain Haldir rules and has always ruled the warriors of our three settlements. The chieftains of our settlements agreed to the wisdom of this and watched our people not only survive, but flourish beyond all expectation in his care. Do not disparage what you do not know or simply do not understand!”

The king gripped the arms of his throne until his knuckles were white while Mablung brought his spear around, pointing it at the ellyn before them.

Haldir felt the eyes of the queen upon him and he glanced up to find himself suddenly caught in the depths of her bright eyes. Unable to look away he endured her gaze for a length of time that seemed to surprise her greatly and her eyes grew wide with marvel. To him, it was not at all unlike enduring the scrutiny of the Lady Galadriel in matters of great importance where perceiving thoughts and intentions  was of more value than using mere words to convey information and meaning. When she finally released him, he did his best to remain calm.

“Because you are a chieftain and as close to a king as your kind appears to have, Damrod, I will excuse that outburst,” Thingol said through gritted teeth.

“You are correct that we know naught of warriors nor captains here,” Queen Melian said, speaking aloud for the first time. “However, I believe the time may have come for us to explore the benefits that such protectors could provide.”

She turned to Thingol and met his eyes, obviously exchanging many unspoken thoughts. “I perceive no malice nor threat nor desire for power from Captain Haldir nor from those accompanying him. Indeed, I perceive the blessing of one of the Belain upon him, though how this can be, I do not know.”

“A Balan?!” Thingol exclaimed, his eyes widening in very surprised wonder, then he looked at Haldir expectantly, his irritation visibly fading away.

Melian looked back at Haldir again. “Haldir, how comes it that you know the Balan Lord Ulmo? Why is his blessing upon you when he is away in Valinor across the sea? How is this possible?”

Haldir struggled to take a deep nervous breath. “I knew word of Lord Ulmo from my ennin in Lothlórien, the land of my birth far to the East. When our people were slain and our settlements were lost, I called upon him in my despair as we crossed each stream on our journey out of the forest. After a few turns of the stars, he came to me in a dream and told me that his power is strong in the Sirion and he would help us find our way to Doriath. He said that our knowledge could be useful here in Doriath. He it was who guided me and I, in turn, guided my people along the Sirion and over the Andram and through the Fens. We would not have been able to make this journey had it not been for his wisdom and guidance. As it was, we barely survived even with his help.”

Haldir paused giving a weak laugh. “His idea of safe paths and mine did not entirely agree, but we all live and we are here now at your mercy.”

The king looked long on Haldir in silence, but the captain endured his searching gaze.

“You and your brethren are unlike Damrod and the other Galadhrim who have journeyed here,” Melian observed. “I will speak with you and your five brethren in private later. There is much I perceive in you and still more I would learn of you and the lands from whence you came.”

“Damrod, do your folk wish to dwell in trees once again?” Thingol asked.

“Yes, my King. It is where we are most comfortable, and to us it is the most defensible,” Damrod replied.

“One of my servants will see to it that you and my other guests here,” the king gestured to the seven Galadhrim before him, “receive rest and refreshments and then I would have you tell my steward here,” he gestured to another ellon who nodded politely to the group, “what you require in order to settle in the Forest of Region.” Thingol said.

“Thank you, my king,” Damrod said graciously, giving a profound bow.

“Captain Haldir, when your chieftain has no further need of you after consulting with my steward, and after your audience with my queen, then I would have you and your warriors meet with Mablung and some of my guard to demonstrate for us the skills of a warrior.”

“Yes my king. Thank you,” Haldir bowed deeply as well, his relief at the king’s acceptance now overshadowed by the new obstacle of impressing Mablung.

Mablung glared at Haldir, obviously unimpressed with the story of a Balan bestowing his blessing on him. “I look forward to testing the might at arms and the supposed skills of a warrior.”

The king dismissed them and as Haldir turned with his group and exited, he felt the overwhelming curiosity of the lords in the hall as they stared at him. Many still looked on him with disdain and obvious disbelief, but none would dismiss him nor his folk now as a triviality hardly worth their time.

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Note:

Beleg Cúthalion means “mighty strongbow”.

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 Haldir was quite willing to take back everything he had thought about Melian’s scrutiny being similar to that of the Lady Galadriel. Once the six from Lothlórien were alone with Melian, Haldir realized that the queen was much more like Mithrandir, only more open about using her power. With a thoroughness he found both awe-inspiring and shocking, the Maia laid bare the thoughts and memories of the ellyn. All six were panting and trembling by the time she finished with them. Melian though seemed quite relaxed, reclining peacefully in a comfortable chair and calling for wine, cheese, and fruit for her guests.

“I understand you far better now,” she said, raising her glass to the ellyn. “I realize it was uncomfortable for you, but I needed to understand you and your situation.”

Haldir and his comrades nodded in reply as they cautiously sipped their drinks, their hands shaking uncontrollably.

With a compassionate smile, she continued, “I am delighted to know that children of my beloved Lúthien will still dwell among the stars in your time as well. And I must admit that I look forward to meeting the Lady Galadriel when she comes here. It seems as if she will be an apt pupil indeed! You all hold her in such high regard, and to think that she learned her abilities from me!” A gloriously musical laugh escaped her, making them all feel very much at ease and completely captivated by her mere presence.

“You can trust me to keep your secrets safe. I will only share what I deem necessary when I deem it necessary. Though, I admit that it grieves me greatly to think that these lands will sink beneath the waves one day. You do not know exactly when that will happen from our current point in time, and that does give me some comfort.” She sighed beautifully like wind dancing through willows. “I do intend to speak to Thingol about establishing march wardens to guard our borders. I would protect our lands as long as I possibly can. Would you be willing to help us?”

Haldir stared too enraptured to eat, wishing she would just keep speaking so he could hear her lovely voice, but not demand anything taxing of him such as a spoken response. He could so easily believe that she had taught the nightingales to sing and thoroughly understand how Elu Thingol could have lost himself so completely in her mere presence so as to lose years of his life just staring into her eyes while a forest grew around them.

“Haldir?”

Again that delightful laugh bubbled forth.

“Haldir!”

Reluctantly the ellon blinked and looked sluggishly about.

“Perhaps I was harder on you than I had intended to be,” She looked on each of the six, then shook her head, giving them all a sympathetic smile. “I believe it was too much for you enduring my scrutiny twice in so short a time. Forgive me, but it was necessary.”

Rising to her feet, she called for blankets and pillows, ordering servants to assist her helpless guests in lying down. Once the ellyn rested comfortably on the floor, she walked among them, a song lilting from her lips and seemingly from the air itself, filling the meeting room with such refreshing yet joyous splendor that liquid tranquility seemed to drip and echo from the walls. Never before had Haldir known such comfort and utterly contented peace as he did listening to her song. As his eyes closed, he promised himself he would never move again if she would just continue singing.

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It took two turns of the stars to get the refugees settled in temporary living quarters. Soon Mablung would be testing Haldir and the warriors and then guides would be sent out with ellyn of the Galadhrim to help find a suitable settlement for their people. For now though, Haldir and his five companions needed the extra time to rest and recover from Melian’s scrutiny before they finally faced Mablung.

“I do not like walls,” Gilwen complained as she removed Haldir’s splint. “No matter how beautiful they are and how much they are made to resemble trees, they are still rock and stone.”

“I rather like them. The detail of the carving and the beauty is remarkable,” Haldir disagreed, gesturing to the carvings surrounding them. “Perhaps you will appreciate the privacy afforded by walls once you have had the chance to live with them for a time.”

“Nonsense,” she dismissed the idea while unwrapping his hand.

He elected not to comment further for she seemed to be in an ill mood, most likely from the pregnancy, and he knew better than to try to argue with her when she was like this.

Carefully she turned the limb examining it by the light of many candles. After the third time of turning his hand and regarding it from different angles, she whispered, “How?”

He raised an eyebrow at her in question, but she ignored him.

“How did you…?” She sighed in frustration, setting his hand down then picking up the other one and looking at it, then holding both and comparing the two. “All right, Haldir, tell me what happened.”

“What?” Haldir looked at her in confusion.

“This!” she held up the hand she had unsplinted. “Explain now.”

Haldir calmly took a deep breath and stared at his hand and then up at her for she towered over him as he sat on the bed in their chambers. “What? It is my hand.”

“Yes,” She gritted her teeth. “But how is it healed? Did that beautiful elleth you keep going on about do it? Did her pretty daughter dance for you? Or in all of her lovely perfection, did that queen sing you a nice song of healing and finish the job your wife had started?” 

“Perhaps… ah…” he thought for a moment. “Her daughter is the most beautiful child of Eru ever born, but, no, she was not there. I truly do not know. I was so weary after the questioning that I fell asleep when Queen Melian started singing to me. It was such a lovely song. Did you know that it is said that she taught the nightingales to sing?”

“Oh did she now?” Gilwen spat, squeezing his hand rather harder than necessary. “So she sang to you like a little bird and you were so inspired that you took a little nap to refresh yourself?”

“I would not say that she sang like a bird. I am not entirely certain, but it might have been a song of power.”

“A what?! Is that so? So you think her songs are powerful? And what of those of your wife? Or does it not matter all of the times I have healed you and sung to you as well? Was there no power in my song? Never did you go on about what I sang to you.”

Haldir looked into her eyes, seeing fire and much danger there. But why? Why was she reacting this way? Why was she so upset? Perhaps she did not understand.

“A song of power uses special words and tunes to cast a spell. I believe that your healing chants are likely a form of songs of power,” he explained brightly.

“You believe…” she said faintly. Dropping his hand which she had been squeezing so hard his fingers were turning purple, she turned away. Taking a few deep breaths, she turned back to him and demanded, “Take off your clothes.”

“What?” he asked again, caught completely off guard. “I would not have thought that you would be inclined to ah…gather firewood given your present mood,”  He removed his belt and reached up to start unlacing his shirt, “but ah…if you insist…” He gave her his best seductive look and she smacked him squarely in the face with a pillow, knocking him over backward, effectively stunning him. 

“You are such an idiot! Turn over!” Skillfully, she flipped him over onto his stomach and yanked up his shirt. Running her fingers along his back, she probed several places.

She swore in a soft incredulous voice. “They are all…even the bruises where you last fell…and the cracked ribs…” suddenly she gasped. “Even the scar on your back…How…how?”

“What?” he asked again, treading carefully lest he misinterpret her meaning and get hit in the face again.

“The scar…it…it is gone!” she exclaimed.

Haldir reached around twisting his arms over his shoulders and around his ribs trying to feel the path the scar used to follow on his back. “Interesting! It is gone!”

Gilwen flipped him back over and leaned over him menacingly as he stared up into her face once again. “Exactly what went on in the questioning and during your so-called ‘nap’ afterward? Did you take off your clothes for her so she could heal you?”

Staring open-mouthed, Haldir gibbered a few times trying to figure out what to say so that she would calm down. “I…I do not know what happened. She looked into my mind and heart. The whole experience exhausted me.”

“Your mind and heart?” Gilwen asked contemptuously. “How dare you! I thought your heart was mine!” With that she picked up the pillow and smacked him a few more times (fortunately he was prepared enough this time to wrap his arms around his head and protect his face).

After one last swat, she screamed, “And you can keep your cursed walls!” Then she hurled the pillow at a tapestry and stormed out of the chambers, slamming the door behind her.

Lying on the bed for several moments, Haldir remained still in case she returned. When she did not, he carefully lowered his arms and sat up. He swore then asked himself aloud, “What just happened?” 

Gracefully he arose, straightened and belted his tunic, then blew out the candles and headed out to find her.

Wandering through the labyrinth of corridors, he made his way out of the caves, pondering the situation all the while. Why was she so angry at him? He had told her the truth about all that had transpired in his visit with the king, his meeting with the queen; all that he saw and heard. What had he done to anger her so?

Near the bridge by the cave entrance, he espied her speaking to a fisherman, and he started to approach, but stopped dead in his tracks. Listening intently, he distinctly heard her bargaining with the young ellon, trying to purchase a freshly caught fish, preferably one still squirming, “as a gift for her dear husband”.

With that, he turned on his heel and sped back into the caves. He knew beyond all doubt he was in serious trouble now and he had no desire to go meet with Mablung with a face full of stitches resulting from a fish attack.

Perhaps his brethren or even Galadin would succor him until her mood passed.

If only he knew what he had done wrong…

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As fortune would have it, the very first ellon of the Galadhrim whom Haldir encountered upon re-entering Menegroth was Galadin. Certainly he could help with this whole ridiculous situation with Gilwen.  After all, he was Galadin the wise, Galadin the patriarch of a very large family, Galadin the warrior, and, most recently, Galadin the confused and hopelessly lost, wanderer of corridors in this deep expanse of caves.

Shaking his head in amusement, Haldir called to his friend, “Galadin! Walk with me, my brother, and I will lead you back to someplace you recognize.”

“That would be a welcome feat indeed for none of this looks familiar to me!” Galadin exclaimed in great relief. “Please take me back to Celos Galen where I know every limb of every tree and every tree is actually a tree and not a rock carved to look like such.”

Haldir chuckled, “I wish that as well, but we both know that can never be. I do hope you will join us when we seek out lands and trees for our new home.”

“You know I will be there. I would not miss that opportunity for anything,” Galadin grinned, clapping Haldir on the back. “I wish to know in my heart that the trees and land accept us and welcome us so that we may dwell in the bliss we knew for so long in Celos Galen.”

They walked for at time in silence, with Haldir easily navigating the corridors. Galadin was very lost indeed, though Haldir was not going to tell him that.

After a few minutes of purposeful walking, Galadin gazed on him shrewdly, “Captain, how is it that you are so comfortable in caves such as these? Do not tell me that you have wandered cave dwellings before as well.”

“All right then, I will not tell you.” He would much rather not have to have this particular conversation anyway and get on to discussing his wife.

“So, where did you find such a dwelling of elves?”

Obviously Galadin would not let him off so easily. “Near Lothlórien far to the East. 

“So tell me then, good Captain who apparently has experienced everything in the world at least once before ever coming to Celos Galen… whatever did you find in our quaint, quiet little village to intrigue so that you stayed among us and did not grow bored from our lack of new things to introduce you to?”

Haldir chuckled nervously, bowing his head to hide his flushed cheeks and decidedly not looking at Galadin.

“Ah, I see,” Galadin nodded sagely, then burst out laughing, the echo of his merriment bouncing off the walls, surrounding them with joy. When he finally calmed, he asked, “So where is your ‘bit of intrigue’ now? Is she settling in or is the pregnancy making her restless for a secure home in the trees?”

“Something is making her restless, that is for certain,” Haldir confessed.

Galadin nodded again. “Suddenly I do not think that your coming to my rescue in the cave had as much to do with happenstance as it did you seeking me out.” He glanced over at Haldir who nodded, feeling a little ashamed.

Clapping him on the back, he prodded, “So, tell me, my son, what troubles you?  What has Gilwen said or done or, perhaps it might be more appropriate – given the many ennin I have known you – for me to ask what you have said or done.”

Haldir looked over at him helplessly. “In truth, I have no idea what I have said or done to upset her, but she is furious with me.”

“Forgive me, but you rarely seem to know what you have done wrong to anger her. Why do you not tell me all that happened and all that you said and I will judge as best I can how to help you once again.” Galadin grinned knowingly.

Giving a enormous sigh of relief, Haldir smiled gratefully and began his tale. By the time he finished, Galadin was shaking his head, not even bothering to try to hide the huge grin on his face. When the overly amused ellon stopped chuckling, he took Haldir’s arm and drew him to a halt at a turn in the corridor.

“Oh, my son, my son. I cannot believe you said those things to her and still cannot understand why she is so angry with you.” Galadin laughed some more, then put forth an obvious effort to school his expression to something more compassionate. “I would have thought after all of these ennin of dwelling with your wife among our folk that you would have figured out that our ellith are a very jealous lot. Yes, they are lusty and feisty and strong, but they are also very jealous.”

Haldir stared blankly at the wise patriarch, wondering what that last comment had to do with Gilwen’s current anger. But Galadin just shook his head again, grasping both of Haldir’s shoulders so he no choice but to look the patriarch in the eyes.

“Son, you had such awe and smitten admiration in your voice as you spoke to me of these Sindar. If you had the same when you spoke to her, do you not think that she would have been upset by this, wondering how she could ever compare to such glorious ellith?”

Haldir was still very puzzled. “But why should she ever compare herself to such? These two ellith are legendary: Melian with her enchanting voice which taught nightingales to sing, and the unrivaled beauty of Lúthien who easily is the most beautiful elleth to ever live. Songs will be sung of them for thousands of years and indeed are sung of them even now. And have you heard Daeron sing and seen Lúthien dance for him yet? It is awe-inspiring.”

“And you also told your plump pregnant wife, who grows more clumsy and weary each turn of the stars with the added weight of the unborn, how graceful they are as well and that you could thoroughly understand why Thingol would be willing to stand for a hundred years, or however long you said it was, completely enchanted by Melian’s own exotic loveliness.”

“Yes, of course I did. Again, the tale is legend and we are among the legendary. Does that not inspire you as well?”

Galadin sighed, then pursed his lips. “Haldir, I believe your wife is correct that you are an idiot. Why can you not see that speaking with such complete adoration of these people is upsetting your wife? In her mind, there is no way she can compete with their loveliness and gracefulness and greatness.”

Haldir’s own gaze never faltered, matching Galadin’s. “But why would she even try to equal them? It is not possible for Queen Melian is a Maia – not even an elf and Lúthien is part Maia– again not a full-blooded elf. I do not want my wife to be what they are. I want her to be what she is and has always been, but I do stand in awe of them.”

“Ah, but she does not know that? All she sees from your ravings is how great and glorious they are and how great and glorious she obviously is not.”

“But why?” Haldir cried in exasperation. “Why does she think this? No one in history – even through to the Third Age will ever compare to them save Arwen Undómiel and she will be comparable to Lúthien only, not Melian. Why would any elleth in her right mind think to compare herself to them?”

Galadin looked very confused. “What are you talking about? Third Age? Undómiel? Have you been sampling the fine wines here? Have you completely recovered from your head injury? You are not making any sense. What exactly did that queen do to you when she held you in her scrutiny? I think you need to see a healer.”

Haldir gaped, cursing as he bowed his head, mentally kicking himself for forgetting where and when he was. Galadin was so like a father and brother to him that he completely forgot that he did not share the same history. And even worse, he had forgotten that his wife, who was so much a part of him in every way, did not share that history either. NO WONDER she did not understand what he had found so awe-inspiring and captivating about the whole experience of seeing Melian and Lúthien and…and being HERE in Doriath!

Moving out of Galadin’s grasp, Haldir turned and banged his forehead against the nearest wall a few times, asking under his breath, “Dear Eru, what have I done? I am such an idiot! What have I done?”

He stood for a few minutes breathing hard with his forehead pressed against the cool stone when Galadin grasped his arm and turned him, taking him into a fatherly embrace. “My son, whatever did you do in Lórien with no adar and without me to guide you? It is a wonder you survived at all.”

Haldir rested his chin on Galadin’s shoulder, whimpering, “What have I done, Galadin? What have I done?”

Galadin patted him on the back. “Child, it is not too late. Go to your wife and tell her how much you love her. Remind her of how beautiful she is and how that beauty is made all the greater by the children she carries within her. Tell her you are in awe of this strange, unnatural place and it has confused and addled your mind. Then tell her you miss the trees and the simplicity of Celos Galen and the joy of being surrounded by ellith of the Galadhrim, for their beauty is more tantalizing than the exotic foreign wonders on display here. Beg for her forgiveness and promise her that when the new village is built, your family’s talan will be the furthest from Menegroth.”

Patting Galadin on the back, Haldir leaned out of the embrace and clapped him on the arms. “Thank you, my friend. I do not know what I would do without you. Thank you!”

Smiling, he patted Haldir’s arms in return as they turned to resume the search for Galadin’s chambers. “And if your wife does not readily forgive you, you can sleep on the floor in my room.”

When Haldir looked at him enquiringly, reminding the ellon that he had two sons and two daughters of his own who might take him in, Galadin elaborated. “I do not believe that your sons and daughters will side with you on this one. Most likely they will feel that you deserve whatever punishment your wife chooses to mete out, and, quite frankly, I would agree with them on that one, if I were one of them. Fortunately for you, I understand how your mind works and fails to work at times, so I take pity on you in this instance as I have in the many others which we have discussed over the years. ”

Haldir shrugged guiltily, then gestured down the corridor. “I believe our chambers are this way, Adar. If you will follow me please.”

“Gladly, my wayward son, gladly.”  And Galadin’s laugh echoed off the walls as they walked.

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Author's Note: I apologize for the delay in posting this week. I am sick (finally got some new meds so maybe I will finally get well, yay) and also am insanely busy moving into a new house and not to meniton that it is also Thanskgiving! This is the chapter many have been waiting for. Hope you enjoy it!

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Lowering the sheathed sword and the quiver of arrows from his shoulders and propping his long bow up against a tree, Haldir sighed.  His discussion with Gilwen had not gone as badly as he feared it would. She at least let him stay in their chambers so he did not have to sleep on the floor at Galadin’s. It took many promises and much apologizing to win her forgiveness, but in the end he received it, much to his relief.  Now he just had to win over Mablung who seemed to have already decided that he did not like Haldir. 

All of the warriors joined their captain in the “trial” to prove their worth to Mablung. Unfortunately, it appeared that Mablung and the other members of the king’s guard were not the only ones curious about the concept of “warriors” for most of the nobles, including the ellyn of the royal family, turned out to watch as well. Haldir had faced this in Celos Galen, so he did not feel that intimidated though most of his warriors seemed nervous at all of the attention they were receiving. What did shock him though was the presence of one young silver-haired, blue-eyed prince standing among the ellyn of the kin of Thingol’s younger brother Elmo. A most interested Prince Celeborn stood with his adar Galadhon watching intently every move the warriors made.

Having served Celeborn for so many ennin, Haldir had great difficulty keeping himself focused on the tasks at hand. Apparently he was not the only one having such difficulty.

“It is difficult to think that he was ever that young, is it not?” Angaril whispered as he moved to Haldir’s side and bent his bow to string it.

“Indeed it is,” Haldir replied out of the corner of his mouth. “He cannot possibly be more than two or three ennin old.”

Rúmil joined them as did the others from Lórien forming a ring as they prepared themselves. “Do you also find it disturbing seeing a Lord Celeborn who is likely younger than your eldest sons?”

“He was always the eldest among our folk in Lórien. It is almost creepy to see him this way. It is as if I am seeing the son he should have had and did not,” Ferevellon quietly added.

“We probably should stop staring at him. He keeps giving us odd looks.” Orophin cautioned. “We do not want anyone asking us questions about our interest in the young prince.”

“Well, if they do ask, we simply say that we have never seen so many princes before and stand in awe of them,” Haldir advised.

“But Adar, that makes us sound so ignorant,” Taurion protested in an equally soft voice, coming up to join them. “Why should we let these folk lord it over us? Why do we not show them who truly is superior? I have heard so many ill comments against us for our dwelling among the trees in our forest. They believe us to be simple, ignorant, backward fools!” He paused, glaring back every inch at his adar who was giving his best “disapproving adar” look. “I will not be made the fool and I resent the fact that they judge us so when they know nothing of us.”

Captain Haldir coldly addressed his warrior son, “Taurion, you will do what you are told when you are told. You will not be arrogant nor will you mock. If they fail against us, you will do nothing disrespectful in acknowledgement of it, and if they prevail against us, then you will show them the proper respect due a worthy opponent. Do I make myself clear, or do you need to be dismissed to return to chambers immediately?”

A red-faced Taurion drew himself proudly to attention. “I will obey you, Captain. I apologize for my outburst and will follow your lead and your orders in this.”

“Good. You had better or so help me I will chose you to spar against with the sword and humiliate you before all assembled here. Now go assemble with the warriors so we may begin.”

“Yes, Sir!” Taurion replied through gritted teeth as he turned on his heel and marched away.

“His arrogance will get him into trouble some day,” Haldir sighed.

“Not that you would know anything about that, my Captain,” Rúmil cheekily replied as he and the other four went off to take their places among the warriors.

As soon as the troops were assembled in formation, Haldir strode forward to address the ellyn of Doriath.  As he neared, he distinctly heard Mablung commenting to King Thingol loudly enough for all to hear, “So they can stand up straight in neat equal rows. How quaint.”

“Silence,” the king commanded. “We will give them the opportunity to prove themselves. My queen tells me that we will need warriors and march wardens, and I would know the value of them before using such in my kingdom.”

“Yes, your majesty,” Mablung conceded with a courteous bow of his head, though the look on his face did nothing to hide his belief that Haldir was wasting their time.

Haldir began by barking orders, putting his warriors through a series of drills. The king looked on approvingly at the obvious discipline required for such things, but Mablung remained unimpressed.

“They seem to walk together well and do the same thing at the same time together well, but that hardly makes them remarkable,” one of the lords commented.

“Why do they wear their hair braided so strangely and with such baubles in them? It seems ridiculous and almost like something a child or a maiden would do,” someone else said.

Almost as one, all of the warriors stopped and looked over at that. Haldir was shocked to discover that the speaker was Prince Celeborn. How dare he say something so insulting! Anger began to boil, but the captain stamped it down, reminding himself that this was a very naive Celeborn, younger than at least one of his own sons and not yet the wise and noble ellon he would call Lord.

“My lords,” Haldir responded, keeping his voice calm and cool. “Wearing our hair in this manner is both a privilege and an honor. It is the badge that shows that we are warriors. A warrior earns the right to wear these braids the first time he makes a kill in combat. The pattern of the braid and beading is unique to the land where a warrior lives and defends. Besides, the braids hold our hair out of our eyes during fighting more efficiently than a single braid down the back.”

Not bothering to wait for a reply, Haldir turned back to his soldiers, ordering them to draw swords and pair off for sparring. In unison, the warriors reached over their shoulders and drew their blades, then joined their sparring partner and began to duel in earnest. Many of the spectators nodded in approval and even Mablung seemed impressed by the display.

“So, what kind of weapons are these exactly? I have never seen their like,” Thingol asked. “They look as if they should be clumsy to swing, buy that obviously is not the case.”

“They are two-handed swords, however they are wielded almost as a combination battle-axe and sword for the sweeping arcs and slicing potential these weapons provide,” Haldir explained. “They are excellent for close range encounters as you can see.”

“I am impressed with the fluidity of stroke and ease of movement the weapon provides,” Mablung commented.

The winner from each pair joined with another winner and the dueling began again with the “losers” moving away to stand and watch. After a while, the remaining winners consisted only of the five from Lórien.

“Captain, you appear to have an odd number remaining. Whatever will you do?” another lord asked, mild mockery in his voice.

Haldir smiled knowingly as he drew his own sword. “Now it is my turn to take part.”

Then the fighting truly commenced. The entire audience stood in appreciative awe as the six clashed before them, swords flashing in a blur of movement and precision. It took fifteen minutes before the first warrior was eliminated. After another five minutes, only Haldir, Angaril, and Ferevellon remained.

“Impressive,” the first lord commented. “But you seem to have an odd number again, ‘Captain’.” Haldir’s title was spoken with just a hint of derision.

Shaking out his newly healed left arm, which was still weak from lack of use, the captain surveyed the crowd. Prince Celeborn was very clearly impressed as were the other royals and this pleased Haldir immensely.

“Thank you, my lord…”

“Saeros,” the lord supplied.

It figured, Haldir thought. The ellon was an ass to elves as well as to mortals, remembering the tale of Turin Turambar dueling with the elf. “Thank you, my Lord Saeros, for pointing out this inequality to me,” Haldir said graciously. Being chased naked through the forest, pursued by an angry mortal would indeed be a suitable punishment for the annoying ellon.

Nodding to the two remaining warriors, Haldir raised his sword, then paused and turned to the crowd. “I beg your indulgence for my left arm is still quite weak as I further recover from a broken wrist. My splint was only removed one turn of the stars ago, so I readily admit I am not at my best. I hope you will forgive my performance.”

As he turned to face his opponents again, comments rattled among the crowd about how the captain obviously was going to be beaten. Haldir smiled in gratitude for the fuel they provided his anger, then raised his sword and the battle commenced with both Angaril and Ferevellon attacking Haldir at the same time. After another fast and furious fifteen minutes, Haldir ended the fight by disarming Ferevellon and then pinning Angaril to a tree with his sword at the ellon’s throat.

The other warriors cheered as did the royals and many of the lords. Mablung clapped as well, nodding his head in approval.

“And you are not at your best at this time?” Prince Galadhon asked incredulously once the crowd grew quiet again.  “I saw your splint and Queen Melian told us that she sped the healing of the bones and sinews. So exactly how would you be fighting if you were at your strongest and best?”

Haldir pursed his lips in thought, but his brother Rúmil answered for him, “He would have taken on four of us from the last group which fought and still would have won.”

“Is this a common practice for one warrior to battle many opponents at the same time?” Celeborn asked obviously intrigued.

“It is for us six for battling only one opponent is not as much of a challenge for us. When a warrior is in battle with orcs or other creatures of the darkness, he may face many opponents at the same time and needs to be able to defend himself accordingly. Our other warriors usually only fight two opponents at a time, perhaps three at the most for they are not yet as skilled as we six though each individual is a worthy opponent in his own right.” 

“Why are you six different?” Celeborn asked.

“We trained in a land far to the East where orcs and other foul creatures harassed our folk for thousands of years before we ever came west and settled in Celos Galen,” Ferevellon replied.  “We trained all of the warriors there and in the other two nearby settlements as well.”

“What other skills do warriors possess besides being able to fight with close range weapons such as these swords?” Thingol asked

“We train at wrestling, strategic planning for defense and attack where we study the terrain and the tactics potential enemies may use against us, archery, tracking, hunting, and being the hunted,” Galadin replied, stepping forward much to Haldir’s approval. “For the Galadhrim, hunting and tracking and making best use of our surroundings to hide and attack are of very great importance. In fact, good sirs, if you do not mind and if our Captain will allow it, we the warriors trained by Captain Haldir and his brethren from Lothlórien would like to be the ones to demonstrate the prowess of warriors to you. They have thousands of years of experience but we have only a few ennin of fighting and training behind us. We would have you know what their training could do for you as well.”

Thingol turned to his chief protector. “What do you think, Mablung?”

Mablung glanced at the warriors surreptitiously, then nodded to his king. “I think it will not be nearly as interesting, but the demonstration certainly will be much briefer for they obviously are not very skilled, and we may well be able to return to the hall in time for the next meal.”

“Melian tells me they are all worth watching for however long it takes, so I am willing to wait for my meal in the hopes that they will show me all that they are worth,” Thingol replied. “I am impressed with what I have seen so far. Perhaps, Mablung, if some of my guard were to demonstrate prowess alongside them, it would give me a better gauge of how much you deem they have yet to learn.”

Mablung nodded, grinning confidently. “Gladly, my King, gladly.” Waving his hand and gesturing, four members of the guard stepped forward and strung their bows.

“Perhaps, Captain Haldir, you would like a test of archery first?”

“Gladly, good sir,” Haldir courteously replied then turned to his warriors and intentionally chose four of the youngest warriors including his own son Handir.

Young Handir gestured toward the targets which were being set up one hundred paces away. “Would you please do us the honor of going first to show us what is expected of a guard of the king?”

Mablung nodded and his men took the first round, all of them repeatedly hitting the center of the targets with ease as they emptied their quivers. Haldir’s soldiers all expressed their admiration for the well-placed arrows while the ellyn of Doriath cheered.

Smiling brazening, Lord Saeros asked, “So tell me, young warriors, why do you carry such ridiculously long bows? Why they are nearly as long as you are tall! Will you use them to strike out at those who stand too close to you perhaps? Or, because you seem to favor weapons which have the function of two weapons in one, perhaps you will use them as spears and throw them at the targets as well as try to shoot with them!” He laughed at his own jest as did many others in the crowd.

Young Handir smiled good naturedly at the taunts. “I must admit that I have only considered throwing my bow in frustration when it took me a great many turns of the stars to grow strong enough to string it and then many more to draw it appropriately.”  Fitting an arrow to the string, he drew it back, matching stance and draw with his other three companions. The four held their draws for a few moments, then lowered their bows, exchanging glances and shaking their heads. 

Turning to face the crowd, Handir asked in a timid voice, ringing with uncertainty, “My lords, would you please allow us to move the target? We just…” he looked over at his adar nervously and received an encouraging nod. “I am afraid we are not comfortable practicing with targets at this range.” 

Amidst many snickers from the crowd, Mablung grinned triumphantly, replying, “Why certainly, young ones.” He motioned for the targets to be brought closer.

“Oh, no! My lord, please, you misunderstand me!” Handir cried, handing off his bow and waving his hands to stop the targets from being moved closer. “No, my lord. Please, please could you have them moved farther away? Our arrows will go straight through the targets at the range where your archers so finely shot.”

“You want them moved farther away?” Mablung glared dubiously. “Do you children truly wish to humiliate yourselves in front of us all?”

“No, my lord, not at all. We merely wish to spare the fletching on our arrows. We worked very hard to make them and do not wish to damage them.”

Mablung shook his head and motioned for the targets to be moved farther away. The servants moving the targets stopped after twenty-five more paces back.

Handir and his companions gave disbelieving yet apologetic looks and one called out, “Farther please.”

After two more attempts, one of the four loudly requested one hundred and fifty more paces.

As the targets were set and the servants moved a safe distance away, Prince Celeborn exclaimed, “There is no way your arrows could possibly even come close to reaching targets that far away let alone hit them or even strike with any accuracy! Why do you mock us when you should be trying to prove your worth to us? You claim to study strategy, but this is the most foolish thing you could have done and in the presence of the King no less! How dare you insult us so!”

Many in the crowd loudly agreed, but Thingol called for silence and addressed the four. “Children, do you truly understand how important this demonstration of skills is to your acceptance here in Doriath?”

The four turned to Haldir with pleading expressions of confusion and hurt on their faces, clearly wondering what they had done wrong.

Their captain irritably responded, “I chose these four, though they are the youngest of my warriors, for I have every confidence in their capabilities. If I had any doubt in their skills in archery or in their judgment, I would not have asked them to shoulder the responsibility of demonstrating before you all a warrior’s prowess with a bow. Every one of them has shot this far and farther and nearer at hand in combat as well as in practice. Please show them the respect that you showed the archers from Doriath.”

Silence hung in the air as Thingol nodded and gestured for the shooting to begin.

Each of the four stood proudly, drawing and loosing arrow after arrow until their quivers were empty and each target was covered with intricate images of leaves made entirely of intentionally placed arrows. After the last arrow struck, the crowd from Doriath exploded in cheers of congratulations and shouts of approval. Haldir and the edair of the other three warriors stepped forward and patted their sons on the shoulders while the other warriors grinned proudly.

When the noise quieted at last, Mablung bowed and humbly yet honorably said, “Captain Haldir, I would know of the making of these bows and these swords. Will you teach us the craft?”

Haldir smiled triumphantly, nodding, “Of course. But my lords, we are not yet finished. There is more you should know of warriors and we have only shown you prowess with weapons.”

“Lead on, Captain,” Thingol said grinning broadly, “Lead on.”

“Are any among you hunters or do you consider yourselves skilled in the chase and tracking?” Haldir asked.

“We all are of course,” Mablung replied. “Why do you ask?”

“Because being skilled at tracking and at avoiding detection while armed are extremely important for those who would defend a forest. I suggest a game. I know that my warriors are itching to explore this wood. I will release them all into the forest with a head start of a few minutes and they will be required to keep within a mile of this place where we are now. Then I would ask that any of you who wish it to go in and find them. My warriors will be carrying their long bows and their swords with them, though they are forbidden to use them. You can take with you whatever you wish or leave behind whatever you think might slow you down.”

Mablung scowled, but Saeros looked about the crowd and replied, “If I may, on behalf of us all, I accept the challenge. The Galadhrim are not the only ones skilled in the wood and I think that you are being quite arrogant in issuing such a challenge if you think that we will not be able to find your warriors. There are a great many of you. One or two may escape us, but I do not see how you all could possibly elude us. We have not grown so complacent living in the caves that we have forgotten how to survive in and rule the wood.”

“I neither suggested nor implied any such thing,” Haldir reassured raising his hands in a calming gesture. “All I am trying to demonstrate is the importance for warriors and march wardens both to move with stealth and speed. I do hope you find some of my warriors out there. I think some are becoming a bit arrogant after their accomplishments in journeying here, and it might be good for them to be shown some humility.” He looked pointedly at Taurion who met his adar’s stare defiantly with a smirk.

Thingol turned to one of his servants and ordered that a meal be brought out to the crowd in two hours. “I want everyone to return here: warriors and ellyn of Doriath in two hours’ time prepared to eat. Warriors of Celos Galen, you may leave now and we will pursue you shortly. I hope you give us a sporting chase.”

The warriors all grinned at that as the last donned his weapons and they all disappeared into the wood.

“Are you not joining them, Haldir?” Mablung asked.

Haldir grinned a bit sheepishly, “No, sir, I am not. Not only am I newly recovered from injuries, but my wife is pregnant with twins. These are children numbers five and six for us. She and the little ones draw much of my strength and, in truth, I would prefer not to be one of the warriors that you find in the hunt. I may have some arrogant warriors out there, but I also have pride of my own which I wish to keep intact. It helps with the morale of the ellyn.”

Thingol laughed long at that as did many of the other older lords.

“We completely understand and sympathize with you,” Thingol’s nephew Galadhon replied. “Children numbers five and six? That is impressive. Congratulations! I do agree that it is important for a leader to maintain the confidence of his followers even though I suspect your warriors would understand in your case.”

Haldir shrugged. “Even still.”

“Well, I do not fear what my followers will think of me if I fail to find any of your warriors. Somehow I suspect that they are going to be far more difficult to locate than we have given them credit for at the outset,” Thingol said.

“Perhaps,” Haldir commented, allowing himself to relax at last and leaning on his unstrung bow. “Perhaps…”

“You have handled our taunts and disbelief and outright antagonistic behavior rather well, Captain,” Prince Celeborn said. “I admire that quality.”

“I agree with my son,” Galadhon added. “You are far more intimidating for remaining calm and not rising with anger, and for letting your actions speak for you. I find it much more effective than any words you could have spoken in provoked response.”

Haldir nodded courteously, giving a short bow of gratitude, surprisingly and deeply touched by the praise from both his future lord and the lord’s adar. “My thanks to you. I wish my eldest son could have heard you say that. He has been itching to prove himself and respond with rash words to all that has been said since we entered Doriath, but I threatened him into silence.”

Galadhon and many others chuckled at that. “I have threatened my own son into silence many times. I can understand.”

Haldir saw a golden opportunity and could not pass it up. “Perhaps we could meet later and compare notes on raising our sons? I know I would enjoy the opportunity to make a new friend here and you may have some advice that might be helpful to me.”

“I believe I would enjoy that very much as well, Haldir,” he replied with a nod.

Celeborn looked uncomfortable and more than a little uncertain at this, but Haldir was laughing loudly inside at the chance to hear all of this very interesting information he never could have known before about his future lord. 

A short time later, the group from Doriath departed in search of the warriors. Haldir sat on the ground, his back against a tree, humming the tune of the waters to himself. A young ellon dressed in green brought him a cup of wine along with some bread and cheese and sat down beside him.

After a polite amount of time, the ellon glanced sideways at him and commented, “Captain, they will not find any of the Galadhrim out there, will they?”

Haldir took another swallow of wine, then replied, “In all likelihood, no.”

“I have heard stories of the folk of the trees. I thought they were fanciful tales until I saw many of your warriors scale the trees and run through the canopy as if they were squirrels or birds before they were obscured by leaf and limb. Can you actually teach our people to do that? I even heard the trees speak to them in fond welcome.”

“Perhaps, if they are patient and willing to listen and willing to learn, we can teach them what we know.”

“Could you teach me?”

“I could try.” Haldir looked over at the ellon, taking in his golden hair and obviously Sindarin features. “What is your name?”

“I am Thranduil Oropherion.”

Haldir blinked a few times, then turned more fully and stared at the young ellon in shock.

“Is there something wrong, Captain?”

Somehow he had forgotten that Thranduil was from Doriath and might have been born already. Suddenly he felt very uncomfortable being seated in the presence of Mirkwood’s future king.

“Captain?”

Haldir shook himself. “I am sorry, I just…you remind me of someone I once knew a long time ago.”

“Do I remind you in a good way or a bad way?”

Haldir smiled, shaking his head. “In a good way.”

Thranduil drew himself up straighter and smiled. “Then thank you, Captain.”

They sat in companionable silence waiting for the warriors to return.

XXXXXXXXXX

Taurion returned last out of all of the warriors and the ellyn of Doriath. As he proudly strode toward his adar, he said for all of the warriors to hear (obviously not caring who from Doriath heard as well, and all from Doriath heard), “It is not enough for ellyn to be comfortable moving in a forest, they must be as sons of the trees as well. I watched every ellon from Doriath depart and return and followed the progress of a good many of them while they hunted for us. Not one looked to the canopy. Not one spoke with or listened to the trees to ask their aid in finding us. Everyone was so concerned about finding tracks and traces of passage lower down by the ground. They should have caught at least one of us, and none of them even knew that I was following them! Why are they so ignorant?”

Haldir smiled, shaking his head. “My son, we are called the Galadhrim for a reason. Not every clan of elves knows our ways or shares in them. Each clan adapted to the environment in which it grew and learned to thrive there. If you were to go visit with Lord Círdan, you would be confused and uncertain almost as a small child on one of his boats just as his folk would not know the first thing about dwelling in and among the trees. The ways of his clan are not the ways of ours. Although Doriath has elves of many clans living side by side as brothers, we are the first of the Galadhrim to dwell among them. We have much to teach them just as they have much to teach us.”

Taurion folded his arms and cocked his head defiantly. “What could they possibly have to teach us?”

“Could you make a dwelling in a cave? Do you know how to carve stone?” Haldir asked.

“Angaril does, I would wager.”

Rúmil jabbed Angaril in the ribs with his elbow at that and he jabbed him back much harder.

“Do you know how to make a feather mattress? Construct a bed? Had you ever seen a chair or a tall table or tapestries before you came here?”

Taurion shook his head.

“Say it out loud,” his adar ordered.

“No, Sir.”

“Louder!”

“No, Sir!”

“Do you realize how ridiculously foolish and backward you sound to these folk? Things as simple as a tall table and a chair and a feather mattress are foreign to you when these items are common place to these folk. Even a child of one year knows what to do with a chair or a framed bed with a mattress here in Doriath, but you who have seen a few ennin had to be shown. Now tell me, who is ignorant?”

Red-faced, Taurion cast his proud gaze to the ground.

“Tell me, boy, out loud for all to hear.”

“We all are, Adar. They and us.” He glared mutinously at Haldir.

“Precisely,” Haldir replied, surprising his son. The captain turned and addressed all of his warriors. “I charge each of you with finding three things that you have found strange, unusual, or unknown to you previously and learn about them. Then I want you to come and discuss them with me.”

Then he turned to the ellyn of Doriath who had remained conspicuously silent through this whole discussion. “And I challenge you to identify aspects about us: our abilities, our way of life among the trees, our customs… and come learn from us.”

King Thingol strode up to Haldir. “After this meal, I have some business to attend to. But I invite you and your family to share the following meal with me and mine. There is much more I would learn from you.” He clapped Haldir on the shoulder. “And thank you for a most edifying display of the skills of a march warden and a warrior. I understand now why your chieftain entrusted the safety of his people to you on the journey and why he allowed you to lead. Indeed you are wise in many things, Captain Haldir of Celos Galen and now of Doriath.”

Haldir smiled as pride welled up inside of him at the compliments and the honor the king was showing him. He stepped back and gave a low bow to the king which his warriors copied.

“Thank you, King Thingol,” he said as he straightened, “for everything.”

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Gilwen could not get away from Menegroth fast enough, or so she kept telling Haldir as they walked through the woods with the warriors and the elder edair of Celos Galen, and some Sindarin guides, looking for a new place to settle.

“It is for the best for us to be away from all of those strange fancy people,” Gilwen said. “They know nothing of our kind and I weary of their constant questions.”

“We are strange to them as well,” Haldir replied diplomatically. “They ask questions in order to get to know us and our ways better.”

“Well,” she sniffed disdainfully. “They have forgotten much of what it is to be an elf and dwell among the trees as Eru first intended for us. I am appalled at what they do not know.”

Silently Haldir reviewed in his mind all of the things that the Sindar and other folk of Doriath were appalled about the Galadhrim not knowing, but he wisely chose not to disclose any of it to his wife. He had no qualms though about disclosing such things to his children who he knew needed to find their place in Doriath much more so than their naneth did. The children had listened and started adapting though Taurion refused to back down on his pride in what he was and his subsequent arrogance. It would be the boy’s undoing someday unless he by some miracle grew into the full potential that Haldir saw in him. With continued training, the boy could grow to become a captain in his own right. Of course, Haldir’s sight concerning his son was often clouded as this was his son – the kind of son he always dreamed he would have. 

Young Handir brought him much pride as well, but Handir was more like a son of the Galadhrim and not a son of Lórien as Taurion was showing himself to be. Unfortunately the proud, arrogant sons of Lórien tended to die in battle. Haldir blinked a few times and looked about, trying to distract his thoughts, but he could not shake the realization that Taurion very likely would meet his end on the point of a blade before he could ever sail to Valinor.

Given his current circumstances, Haldir also wondered if he himself would ever sail to Valinor. There were so many battles which had not yet occurred, and he could not determine when any of them might. Once Anor arose he would know when things would happen, but until that time not even Melian seemed to know what was to come next. In some ways this comforted Haldir with no doom foretold, but in other ways it was quite disturbing.  Would the First Battle of Beleriand occur before the birth of his twins or would their children be old enough to fight in that battle alongside him?

He shook himself at that and looked around again. However, the possibility that his world could come to an end for real was all that loomed before him. In which battle would HE die? Or would it be a skirmish on the borders somewhere? Or would he live to fight the sons of Fëanor in the second kinslaying and flee to the Havens at Sirion and dwell beneath the willows once again?

What would happen to his wife and children and grandchildren? What of the families of his brethren? In Lórien, the ever-present danger never unsettled him like this. His family was far safer here under the protection of Melian and the future march wardens than they would have been in Celos Galen.  Unfortunately the candle of Doriath was burning and at some point it would burn brighter and faster than he could ever prepare himself for before it was completely snuffed out.

Veering off from the main group of explorers, he wandered alone over to a stand of tall trees and climbed up into their branches. Once he felt he was high enough above the ground, he rested in the crook of some limbs and closed his eyes. The trees sang sweetly to him, calling him by his kind and asking for his name. Tenderly the limbs began to sway, the leaves gently shushing and swishing as if blown by a soft breeze. The soft music of a waterfall crept into his mind, the rush of waves close enough to perceive with his fae but not necessarily to hear over the branches.

This…this was a good place, a place of comfort and of hope. He could sense his unborn children seeking his presence and feel the pull of his wife’s fae on his own, seeking him as well. If only he had brought his harp. There was a music here in this place, in Doriath. The birds leant their song to it, but the water of the surrounding rivers gave harmony to it as well.  Was this the presence of Melian he sensed? Or was there something more here? If Ulmo’s power still flowed in the waters in Beleriand, then who was to say that others of the Belain had not entirely abandoned this land as well?  Giving a great sigh, he allowed himself to relax completely, resting in the Presence of something other than himself…. For now, for this one brief moment, he was safe, he was at peace, and he was home…

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

“You could have told us where you had gone,” Rúmil scowled.

“Where would the fun have been in that?” Haldir replied sleepily, not wanting to disturb his respite.

“I think you have found it, my friend,” Galadin observed.

“At least we have found him…” Taurion commented as he reached Haldir’s perch and joined him on an adjacent branch. Haldir could have sworn the boy was part wraith for the stealth of his movements.

“We have a great many large and welcoming trees, a fresh supply of water… even a waterfall! The game is plentiful and there are many berries and edible plants close by. Yes, I believe this is it! Haldir has found it for us! Ever does that ellon look after our needs before his own,” Damrod exclaimed.

“I swear they are part squirrel the way they scurry up the trees,” one of the guides commented to the other guides in Sindarin.

Haldir laughed as did the guides. “Yes we are, are we not?” he hollered back down to the guides.

One of the guides punched the arm of the one who commented. “You forgot about that one understanding Sindarin.”

“And the rest of us who understand Sindarin as well,” Rúmil added cheerfully.

“A well-aimed rock might take that one down,” another guide observed, rubbing his chin with one hand and pointing to Rúmil with the other as if he were contemplating pruning the tree.

“And a well-aimed accidental release of my dagger might take you down as well…” Rúmil replied amiably, shifting his position in the branches to a spot directly over the guides.

Suddenly Rúmil’s tree trembled near the top, dropping a branch which hit Rúmil and then tumbled down through the lower branches to hit the guides as well.

Angaril laughed loudly from his perch in a nearby tree. “Oh, I love this place! We definitely must settle here. Where else could we find trees with a sense of humor to rival that of Rúmil and the other smart asses on the ground below us?”

“I believe I have a name for our new home,” Damrod proclaimed, grinning broadly. “Gladhol Gelaidh.”

XXXXXXXXXXX

Indeed the land of Laughing Trees was a place of joy for the Galadhrim as well. The refugees spread out among the canopies, building a vast web of bridges connecting the many levels of telain very much after the fashion of Caras Galadhon in Lothlórien. On the advice of Haldir and his comrades, the telain were constructed using the techniques and architecture of Lothlórien rather than building them after the fashion of Celos Galen.

Joining Haldir and some others on the ground to take a break, Damrod drained two cups of water and started on a third.

Gesturing at the ongoing construction above them, Haldir asked, “So what do you think?”

“I hate the hall.”

Haldir choked on his own swallow of water, then lowered his cup. Lord Celeborn and Lady Galadriel had a hall equal to that of a great hall of men. It only made sense that a chieftain should have a hall. “But why?”

Damrod took a deep breath, then explained. “Haldir, we all know that the ground is the place for gathering in large groups or even the branches of a tree will suit that purpose. I see no reason why we need a giant building for gathering. In a tree, if it rains the leaves will protect us or we will simply gather in a smaller group in a talan. Halls like King Thingol’s require tall tables and chairs and other…things to fill them and simply are not practical high up in a tree.”

Haldir pursed his lips as he contemplated a reply. “Damrod, you are a chieftain. King Thingol wishes that respect be to shown to you equal to the respect which is shown to the other lords and clan chieftains who dwell in Doriath. They all have halls for use when meeting with lords and for gathering with the chieftains of other clans and for meeting with the king. It is a way to show respect to these esteemed visitors as much as it is a way to show you the respect and honor you deserve as our leader.”

Haldir’s comrades and their sons as well as his own sons looked at Damrod from their resting places on the ground nearby, clearly interested in this exchange.  Damrod’s expression betrayed the obvious toll this conversation was taking on his patience. “My son, I realize that you are in awe of these strange folk and have been ever since we arrived here. They have indeed accomplished many impressive things not the least of which are convincing so many unrelated clans to dwell side by side in peace and delving deep into the earth to make a home in one thousand caves. But…these are not OUR ways. Quite frankly, I am appalled that you have been so quick to forget our ways and so eager to embrace theirs. Seldom do I hear the tongue of the Galadhrim from your lips. Do your ennin in Lothlórien and later in Celos Galen mean nothing to you? Does your heritage as a son of the forest mean nothing to you anymore? Are you so ashamed of us that you wish to be like…like them?”

Crossing his arms defiantly, Haldir glared back at his father-in-law and chieftain. “You think I am so ashamed of my heritage and eager to please and so shallow that I would stoop to change my ways just to please them? Is that what you really think is going on?  I do not think this is about a hall, Adar. I think it is about your fear that their ways will change us. In truth, to an extent we must change and adapt in order to blend in with them. However, we can still maintain that which is uniquely us. King Thingol, who is now your liege and the one whose generosity and good graces allow us a safe haven here, is the one who ordered that a hall be built. My comrades from Lórien and I saw it done in Lothlórien and it can be done safely and honorably for both the trees and the folk involved.”

He paused glancing over at the others, but only five nodded encouragement for him to continue. “I have given my strength and my blood to protecting the Galadhrim for thousands of years.  Do not ever presume to question my loyalty to my kin and clan. I may know much about other clans and races, but I use that knowledge to try to aide my own people in whatever ways I can. At this time, we need to be gracious and try to blend in, and in some things capitulate to the wishes of OUR new liege and his folk. When we are here among our own kind we should do as we have always done, adhering to our own language and customs. However, when others not of our kind are among us, it would be courteous to try to make them feel welcome. That may mean that we speak Sindarin or we offer them a chair to sit in. It also may mean that you meet with them in a hall – but it will be a hall among our trees.”

Damrod glared mutinously, “I refuse to use a hall to meet with my own people.”

“That is your right and a choice for you to make,” Haldir replied.

“And I refuse to dwell in it. I will dwell near my children and grandchildren.”

“That choice is yours to make as well. King Thingol only wishes that a hall be available for meetings.”

“I am not sweeping the floor of it either and neither will my wife.”

Haldir bit his lip for a count of ten. “Again, my chieftain, that choice is yours to make and you can even order someone else to sweep the floor in preparation for meetings. King Thingol has servants who sweep the floors of his halls.”

Damrod looked at him incredulously. “What a waste of the time and talent of an able-bodied elf! That is preposterous! That ellon or elleth could be out gathering food or hunting or sewing or any other of a hundred different tasks which are more useful to the settlement as a whole rather than simply sweeping floors so that an ellon can sit in a big chair and talk to people.”  Red-faced he stood, throwing up his hands in disgust and walking a few paces away then turned to face Haldir again.

“Go ahead and build the damn hall if my liege so orders it, but you can tell King Thingol that I refuse to have someone in my clan whose sole purpose is to sweep the floors. I simply cannot abide such a waste of strength and skills.”

Unable to think of anything helpful to say in reply, Haldir bit his lip again and simply nodded. “As you wish.”

After Damrod angrily scaled the nearest tree to return to constructing a talan adjoining Haldir’s own new home, the five from Lórien arose and took turns clapping Haldir on the shoulders and back.  The sons merely sat on the ground trying to hide their grins.

“Congratulations, Captain,” Angaril said not even bothering to try to hide his amusement. “I strongly suspect you are going to find yourself sweeping the floors of the hall before meetings.”

“It would make an excellent punishment for wayward children,” Taurion added with a snicker.

“Or for disobedient or overly arrogant warriors,” Rúmil added, looking pointedly at Taurion who glared back at him defiantly.

“Dear Eru, what have we gotten ourselves into?” Haldir asked shaking his head. Without further comment, he finished his drink then climbed back up the tree to continue work on his own talan.

XXXXXXXXXXXX

Damrod refused to help with the building of the hall and forbade all but the ellyn of Lórien and their sons from working on the construction of it. The finished product was not equal to what Lord Celeborn and Lady Galadriel had in Caras Galadhon, but it served its purpose well.  And true to his word, Damrod and his wife refused to be the ones to sweep the floors.

Though Gladhol Gelaidh was large and built to accommodate a growing population, there were no high walls surrounding the settlement and no great gate like Caras Galadhon had or would have. With Haldir’s march wardens on patrol much as they had been before in Taur-im-Duinath, (and with Haldir’s undisclosed knowledge of the Girdle of Melian which was to be erected at some point in the future) the chieftain and edair felt that there was no need for the settlement to be surrounded by walls like a fortress.  Also considering they were only two turns of the stars away from Menegroth, they felt rather secure in the safety of their new location.

The construction took longer than any of the Galadhrim had expected, but they all felt it was well worth it. Ferevellon and Fereveldir and their sons constructed finely carved tables and chairs and Damrod, in a token effort to capitulate to the ways of the Sindar, put his eldest grandson in charge of learning the craft of constructing feather beds. Taurion was most unhappy with this assignment, but he knew better than to defy his daeradar. Haldir was delighted at this for he thought it might teach his son some humility having to learn such a craft from the Sindar and then teach it to others.

True to his word, Haldir built his family’s large talan, composed of many rooms complete with walls to accommodate his children and grandchildren, on the side of the settlement furthest from Menegroth. According to his wife, the trees there sang the sweetest songs for they were not encumbered by being too close to rock and caves like the trees on the other side of the settlement. In Haldir’s mind, two days away from the caves of Menegroth was two days away and the distance across the settlement was miniscule in comparison, but he humored his pregnant wife and dutifully agreed with her.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Gladhol Gelaidh - Laughing Trees

XXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Author's note: I'm still not in good health and am struggling mightily with real life issues. I'm only part way through writing chapter 25 and will post it when I have time to finish it. Sorry about the delay in the story. At least I managed to get this far without missing any weeks of posting :-)  Happy reading! 

For some time after the completion of Gladhol Gelaidh, the inhabitants of this fair settlement affectionately referred to it as Nîr Gelaidh for the sound of crying babies became a familiar and ever present feature of the land. Not only were there the last babies conceived in Celos Galen, but there were the ones made in Nan Tathren, and lately a new crop created in celebration of the trees of the new home in Doriath.

More than once Haldir and his brethren of Lórien pondered and speculated how the population of Galadhrim in Lothlórien could possibly have dwindled as much as it had over the ages when THIS was what their folk had started out with in Doriath. The citizens of Menegroth seemed to have their own opinions about the population explosion as well, as Haldir heard every time he went there.

“Do your folk not understand restraint?”

“You are not in Cuiviénen anymore.”

“You do realize that you are safe now and do not have to repopulate a forest on your own, do you not?”

 “Do your folk not understand that there is a choice involved, and every encounter with one’s spouse need not leave one with reminders for ennin to come?”

Haldir, being a true son of the Galadhrim, simply responded to every comment with a grin and the occasional observation that the other folk of Doriath apparently did not know how to thoroughly celebrate their surroundings. No one would gainsay him, to his face, at least for it was known by many that he was the best swordsman in all of Doriath and his warriors were the ones who would be teaching the defenders of Doriath in the arts of strategy and defense.

Thingol did not yet trust Haldir enough to give him a position of authority in matters of defense, but he did consult with him regularly and gave him the task of mapping all of Doriath – once his children were old enough for him to be away.

The responsibilities of being adar to little ones all over again did not bother Haldir in the least for he was determined to enjoy his stay in Doriath and the peace of the land for as long as possible. Some of the tasks of mapping nearby terrain Haldir gave to his few warriors who did not have small children, using the opportunity to teach such skills to those who would learn them. A handful of ellyn from Doriath joined the warriors on these brief expeditions serving as guides and learning the skills the warriors would teach.

Although Mablung was the one in charge of all of the defenses, Haldir and his Lórien brethren enjoyed high status as the new instructors of all who would defend the kingdom.  Unfortunately this did not sit well with Mablung.

“Why must our ellyn always go all the way to Gladhol Gelaidh for training?” Mablung had asked during a recent meeting with Thingol, the princes, and Haldir to discuss matters of defense.

“Those who wish to learn have other skills and requirements on their time as well. They waste four whole turns of the stars just in travel to learn from your folk.”

Haldir glanced around the chamber at the expectant faces of the others in attendance who always seemed fascinated to sit back and watch the verbal combat between Haldir and Mablung.  Every meeting seemed to include some confrontation with Mablung and Haldir grew weary of it. However, he knew the king and princes valued calm responses from him, so he replied, “I have other obligations as well that require my attention.”

“I do not speak of children and your overabundance of them,” Mablung scoffed. “That was a choice you made and you should be wise enough to know that you must continue to serve your king in whatever capacity he requires of you. If the Galadhrim had learned some sort of restraint, then perhaps you folk of the trees would be farther along in your skill of hand and mind and your use of tools.”

Raising an eyebrow, Haldir glared at his attacker. Eru! And he thought the Noldor were arrogant and haughty? He had no idea the Sindar could be so arrogant and he had lived among them in Lórien for how many ennin?  After what he had seen since arriving in Doriath, he was strongly reconsidering the ill opinion of the Noldor which the Sindar of his time enjoyed. Quite frankly, he was rather glad that the Sindar were going to have served back to them by the Noldor what they had so haughtily dished out to the Galadhrim.

Then again, he further speculated, perhaps it was the natural way of things for the more advanced clan of elves to try to lord it over the one with lesser skill of hand and tool?  And considering how the Sindar were treating the Galadhrim, Haldir rather felt the Sindar deserved the lesson in humility they would get from the Noldor who were supremely arrogant and high and mighty in their opinions of themselves.  He made a mental note to discuss this new perspective on history and clan relations with his Lórien brethren when he returned to Gladhol Gelaidh.

Instead of voicing these indulgent thoughts, Haldir calmly clasped his hands on the table before him.  “I am serving my king as well as serving my chieftain. I was given to understand that the clans are allowed to continue under the governance of their chieftains, living as they always have so long as they give their allegiance to King Thingol and serve in whatever way he requires.  I have duties to my chieftain and to my own people as well in addition to training the folk of Doriath. I cannot attend to the needs of my family nor my folk if I am always here in Menegroth. And in truth, if you do not value family and the obligations of an adar to nurture his children then how can you expect allegiance to a chieftain, lord, or king when these ellyn are the edair of their folk in a very real sense?”

There were approving nods around the room as everyone turned to look at Mablung again. “In this grand picture of family which you have described, there are also times when family members must sacrifice for other members of the family or at least put the needs of the greater family before their own selfish indulgences. Likewise family members must accept that they are not always as important in the extended family as they would like to deem themselves to be in their own small part of the family.” 

Now Haldir had had enough. “My Lord Mablung” — he put extra emphasis on the title — “I have no delusions about my position in the greater community. I am a skilled craftsman and my craft happens to be in the arts of defense. I seek no other title nor recognition from anyone else in Doriath nor in Gladhol Gelaidh. I merely seek the respect of those around me and I believe I have earned it.” He paused, noting the approval in Thingol’s eyes.

“If anyone wishes to learn from me as an apprentice to my trade, he or she may come to me to learn just as any other apprentice to a trade would go to a master to learn. If the learner feels that the distance to travel is too great to be bothered with then that learner should reconsider the desire to be a warrior.

I myself travelled among other settlements across many leagues to learn the skills and techniques which I possess, often living among my teachers for many years to learn what they would show me. I see nothing wrong with asking folk to travel for a mere two turns of the stars to learn from the only teachers who can impart the knowledge we possess.”

Mablung glared at Haldir, pounding the table with his fist in frustration, then turned to Thingol. “My King, How can I be expected to work with this backward fool when he-”

But the king silenced him with a wave of his hand. “I think Haldir has the right of it in the training of warriors,” Thingol declared. “And because this issue of potential warriors having to travel back and forth between Menegroth and Gladhol Gelaidh troubles you so much as you so frequently remind me, I believe we should try the methods of Haldir’s mentors.”

Exactly what methods of his mentors had he even mentioned? Haldir wondered.

But Thingol continued before he could ask. “I agree that a certain amount of dedication to a craft must be shown by those who would learn it and there is no better way to learn than by living among masters of a craft. Since it is an unfair burden separating edair from their babes and small children when they are most needed by their families, the warriors in training will go and live among the Galadhrim of Gladhol Gelaidh. I will inform Chieftain Damrod so he can have telain built to accommodate the new trainees.”

Haldir and Mablung both stared at Thingol, mouths agape.  Mablung recovered first. “My king, that is unfair to those who have other duties to attend to in addition to training to learn the arts of a warrior!”

“My king,” Haldir tried more diplomatically, “I am uncertain as to how Chieftain Damrod will receive the news of so many Sindar coming to live among us. He is settling in and accepting the ways of the other elves of Doriath, however, he does ask of those in Gladhol Gelaidh that they abide by the ways of the Galadhrim.”

“Haldir, I have every confidence that all of the people of my kingdom can live together peacefully and fully accept each other. In order to foster this, those who have lived under my rule for a longer time must learn the ways of and come to accept the newcomers. You have a great deal to offer those who would learn and I need for more of my folk to be skilled as you are skilled.”

Then Thingol turned to Mablung and sighed. “My friend and protector, you speak much of service and obligation and duty. Now I must ask you to oblige me and serve me with this duty. I need for you to learn what Haldir would teach. I want you to go to Gladhol Gelaidh and live among the Galadhrim alongside the new warriors. Learn what he can teach you, learn the language of the Galadhrim, and learn their ways of woodlore and fighting first hand. I will expect a report from each of you every few weeks detailing your progress.”

Haldir and Mablung exchanged angry glances then schooled their expressions to something more submissive and regarded Thingol coolly.

“As you wish,” they cordially replied in unison.

“Excellent,” Thingol said with a self satisfied smirk. “I look forward to news of your progress.”

 XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

“He is a great warrior – skilled far beyond anyone I have met among the folk of Doriath.”

“I do not disagree with that.”

The voices of Haldir’s two elder sons drifted down from the talan above him as Haldir paused on his climb up the ladder to listen.

“But why does he always give in to them in…in matters of… well, of everything? What is wrong with adar that he feels he must always capitulate to those lazy fools?”

“Taurion, you had best keep your voice down. You do not want any of the folk of Doriath to hear you,” Handir cautioned. “We are here on the good graces of King Thingol and we had best not insult his folk.”

 “What do I care if they hear me, brother? Let them be insulted!  They deserve it. I speak the tongue of a proper son of the forest, not that of those whiny fools. Very few of them have deigned to learn to speak our tongue. I am not ashamed of who and what I am like adar seems to be.”

“I do not think adar is ashamed. I think that he is trying his best to understand the Sindar and to help us all to fit in as subjects of this kingdom.”

“Subjects indeed!” Taurion scoffed.  “A few of our folk well-placed and I think we could show this kingdom who really deserves to rule.”

“You speak treason, Taurion and you had best stop it now,” Handir warned. “What if someone hears you? Do you really want to have to move our settlement yet again? Your son is still very small. Your full strength has not yet returned and what of the other families with newly born babes? Most of us ellyn are not as strong as we should be and will not be for years yet. I know I am not. You had best keep your teeth together and stop whining like some Sinda in a tree. You would be wiser to try to find a way to fit in here. We cannot defend our people as we should right now if our folk should be cast out. Do you not remember what the wolves did to the folk of the southern settlement?”

“Do not remind me of that atrocity! The memories still haunt my dreams.”

“I am glad they haunt you, Taurion. I hope they haunt you for a long time to come so you remember why we fled Celos Galen and why we need the safety that Doriath offers.”

Taurion sighed loudly. “Perhaps you are correct, little brother. I will try to keep silent when they are around, but I still hate the way those folk treat us. At least we are spared having them among us all the time. That would be unbearable.”

“Indeed it would,” Handir agreed. “Indeed it would.”

Struggling to wipe the self-satisfied smirk from his face, Haldir continued his climb up the ladder. Perhaps Thingol had the right of it when he said the Sindar and the Galadhrim needed to dwell more closely with one another to foster better understanding. And it finally gave Haldir a way of dealing with his overly arrogant and potentially treasonous son.

As he cleared the entryway, Haldir brightly called to his family, “Guess what? The Sindar are coming to live among us for their training. I wanted you to be the first to know.”

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Gladhol Gelaidh – laughing trees

Nîr Gelaidh – crying trees

Author's note: I am still struggling with writing time and the lack thereof and the ever present sick people.  After the holidays, I hope to get back to a regular posting schedule. I can hope, right?

Haldir sat high up in a tree. Clinging to the branch for support, he desperately tried to calm his breathing and his racing heart. By the Belain! He needed to calm down. Calm down and focus. Focus on the situation at hand and find a solution. Any solution. And no one from Doriath could die in the process. He could not let that happen. He would not let that happen. Angaril had already reminded him more than once why they could not let that happen.

Calmly the ellon kept reciting the litany of names and the known futures of some of those for whom they were responsible. One would defend King Dior’s wounded body during the second kinslaying and die beside him. Another would accompany the young child Elwing’s entourage protecting her in her desperate escape from Doriath so she could live to be Elrond’s mother. Two would fight side by side with the surviving lords of Gondolin at the third kinslaying. Two would be kings one day. One was destined to be Lord of Lothlórien.

Six times Haldir banged his forehead against the bole of tree, scrabbling at the bark with reddened calloused fingers in his panic and frustration. With each struggling breath he cursed those responsible: King Thingol, Chieftain Damrod, Mablung the haughty, the proud Sindarin trainees, Taurion his idiot son. When he ran out of curse words in the three elven languages with which he was most comfortable, he resorted to the tongues of dwarves and then of orcs in search of just the right turn of phrase for his anger and frustration and fear and guilt.

Finally he turned and leaned back against the trunk, his knees tucked up so he could rest his bruised forehead on them. How the hell had this happened?

Briefly Haldir reviewed the events of the last few months in his mind. It was Damrod’s fault. No, wait, Thingol was the one who ordered the trainees to live among the Galadhrim so he was to blame first. Then it was Damrod. Well, Damrod and Taurion.

XXXXX

Ever since the Sindar had arrived in Gladhol Gelaidh, Taurion had been mocking and criticizing them, both in private and to their faces. He never missed an opportunity to condemn them for their short-comings and to call attention to all that they did not know. Every struggle with stringing and then shooting a Lórien longbow, every clumsy move with a sword, every mishap when trying to run through the canopies, set Taurion off on a long tirade.

After every practice, Haldir pulled his son aside along with increasing numbers of others among the Galadhrim to explain the importance of diplomacy, tolerance, and patience. Likewise, before every breakfast, Haldir took Mablung and the trainees from Doriath aside and tried to explain to them the importance of graciousness to hosts, tolerance of cultural differences, and patience -both with the Galadhrim and with themselves.

In spite of this, Mablung and the trainees seemed to find something to complain about or speak of with disdain at every turn. The tables were too low, the telain were too high, there were too few bridges between telain, there were not enough chairs, the bows were too long and too hard to string, making the spiral fletching for the arrows was difficult and arduous (what was wrong with their way of doing it?), the food was too bland, the ellith were too standoffish.  And the list went on…

Unfortunately, after a few weeks, some ellith were not standoffish enough, much to the chagrin of their kin. And even more unfortunate was the fact that Rúmil’s youngest daughter was among them.

“It is not that I necessarily dislike the Sindar…” Rúmil griped after dinner on one of many occasions for griping. “But much as we respected them in the Second and Third Ages, hearing grand tales of the majesty and power of Doriath way back when…I have very little respect for the folk of those about whom those tales were told. I do not want my daughter taking one of those lazy fools for a lover let alone marrying one! It is one thing to have to dwell near them and work side-by-side with them, but I will not take one into my family as a son!”

Haldir and his Lórien brethren did not bother trying to sooth Rúmil’s ire for they each had struggled enough with allowing their daughters to marry even among the Galadhrim. Silent, deadly accidents would have befallen any Sinda who had vied for the hand of one of their eligible daughters and Ferevellon had said as much. Unfortunately they were in Doriath now, surrounded by Sindar, and many of the Lórien ellyn had young daughters and all had granddaughters who would grow up one day and wish to marry.

XXXXX

“Giant spiders,” Galadin the wise would remind all of the Galadhrim warriors – especially those with unmarried daughters – whenever they passed in their endeavors or when he noticed any of them grumbling or scowling in annoyance at the Sindar.

“Wargs killing warriors, ellith, and children.”

“Orcs eating our kin.”

“Burning trees.”

It was not subtle, but the reminders seemed to work far better at calming irritated warriors and angry fathers than Haldir’s constant lectures.

“My Captain, you tell them what they must do and you are most correct. I merely am reminding them of why they must do it and the consequences of our home in Doriath failing,” Galadin had once explained. “Together, we just might be able to settle them and make them tolerate the Sindar. They will not respect them, for respect must be earned, but they will eventually realize they must be tolerant. Perhaps a few of them marrying into the Galadhrim would be a good thing.” He paused a moment then clarified, “Granted, I do not want one of them marrying a daughter of my house either, but I do understand the necessity of learning to live with them.”

XXXXX

Unfortunately, the need for tolerance did not seem to have reached their chieftain.

“Haldir, how much longer must they dwell among us?” Damrod had demanded from the big chair he seldom used in the big hall he used only slightly more often than the chair.

With a longsuffering sigh, Haldir gave his standard reply to the time-worn question, “They will be here until they are finished learning the skills we have to teach them at this time.”

“And how long will that be, Captain?”

“As long as it takes for them to learn.”

“Our people were not this slow to comprehend your instruction. Why did Thingol send us fools for instruction? Was it to mock us and our ways?”

Haldir took a deep breath, surprised at the venom dripping from his father-in-law’s tones. “He did not send us fools, my Lord. He sent us those who wished to learn from us and those who he chose to learn from us.”

“And they are fools. Fools and idiots who take from us what they wish and mock and disparage what they do not even attempt to try to understand! They learn our language. They learn our superior skills, and yet they scoff at our way of life and deride our people.” Damrod nodded in contempt. “Oh yes. I have heard them myself and I have seen how they treat our ellith and the elder edair of the clan and their vile disregard for perhaps the greatest son of the wood to have graced our kind – young Taurion – and their rudeness and disrespect for him and even for you. And yet you continue to teach them! How dare you! What kind of ellon are you, for you behave like no son of the Galadhrim that I have ever known!”

He smashed his hand down on the arm of his chair. “They speak ill of my grandson – your first born son – and they dishonor your people and disrespect you behind your back. Yes, I have seen it as have many others! Every turn of the stars, Taurion gives me reports on all of the offensive things that they have said and done. And that fool – oh, I have not the words to describe his foulness properly – Mablung, who leads them? I am beyond weary of his haughtiness. There is much talk among our folk of leaving Doriath and finding a home where we can live among our trees in peace with no tribute due to anyone else. Some have already begun preparations to leave.”

Haldir had heard rumors of the Galadhrim wanting to leave, but he thought they were just that: rumors. He had not realized just how bad the situation had become. He started to speak, trying to reason with Damrod, but the chieftain cut him off with a sharp wave of his hand.

“Do not attempt to defend them with any talk of their serving King Thingol and how we should suffer them for the sake of peace and allegiance with our liege lord. I will hear none of it!”

Calling on his full wisdom and his many ennin of knowledge of the temper of his wife’s adar, Haldir stood still and silent, his head bowed in respect, waiting of the waves of violent emotion to roll away. “I cannot send them away yet,” he finally said, meeting Damrod’s angry glare with his own calm gaze. “My lord and chieftain, you are very wise and you understand the gravity of the situation. You know what they have learned already and what they have yet to learn. Truly, what would you have me do?”

Damrod looked away for a time, running his fingers through his unbraided hair then rubbing his chin as he sat back in his great chair. At long last he leaned forward, resting his elbows on the arms of the chair. “Teach them to march, Captain, and march them far, far away from here. Take them north beyond their precious holes in the ground they call Menegroth. Let them put into practice the wood lore they have learned from us, and perhaps, after many turns of the stars living off what the forest will provide and communing with the trees, they will learn some respect and appreciation for our ways and our culture.”

Quickly working through the logistics in his mind, Haldir replied, “Fair enough.”

“I want them gone tomorrow, Haldir, so I can try to get our people back under control and prevent any of the Galadhrim from leaving Doriath - for now.”

Taking a deep worried breath, Haldir slowly exhaled with raised eyebrows and a shake of his head. “I will do my best to have the trainees from Doriath and my warriors ready to depart by then.”

“You may not take all of my warriors, Haldir. You may only take a few. But most need to remain here with their families to keep order and show our folk that the people of Doriath do not dictate to us and do not control us. We rule ourselves.”

“Yes, my lord,” Haldir replied with a low bow, wondering who would be best to take and who would be best to leave behind, especially considering the matters of calm and peace for the folk of Gladhol Gelaidh now seemed to be of equal importance with keeping Thingol happy.

XXXXX

So Haldir had marched them north, beyond Menegroth, across the river and all the way to the Northern part of the Forest of Neldoreth. The warriors accompanying him included his brethren of Lórien and their sons and sons-in-law and his own sons and sons-in-law as well as Galadin and a few sons of his line.

The first six turns of the stars had been a forced march intended to put as much distance as possible between Gladhol Gelaidh and the trainees. He also hoped it would serve the purpose of making everyone tired so there might be a little less spark in the volatile tempers. Haldir and the other warriors with small children all were feeling it by the time he called the halt in the middle of the Neldoreth to make camp and allow everyone their first real rest.

Unfortunately the march failed to have the desired effect on Taurion. Nonchalantly, he wandered over to the clearing where the ellyn of Doriath had gathered a little apart from the Galadhrim.

“Mablung, those caves have made your folk soft,” he sniffed with disdain. “One would have thought that living among the trees for the last few months would have strengthened you enough to be able to endure such a simple stroll through the woods. Obviously that was not the case.”

Fairly bristling, Mablung rose from his seat on the ground near a fire where meat was roasting. “And I would have thought that being the son of one as well-travelled as your adar would have taught you some common courtesy when addressing your elders and betters. Apparently spending so much time communing with trees instead of talking to people has greatly hindered your social skills. It is no wonder your folk hide up in the trees. They are too inept to interact with their own kind.”

Calmly Galadin strode up and placed himself squarely between the two before the red-faced Taurion’s clenched fists could rise to cause further problems.

“Friend Mablung, I suggest you return to your seat and finish preparing yourself and your ellyn for the meal. Friend Taurion, your adar has asked me to determine who will take the first watch with me. Since you are feeling so little fatigue, I think you would be a fine choice. Your cousin will bring us our meals.” Amiably but firmly, Galadin took Taurion’s upper arm and drew him away. When Taurion glared at him, Galadin met him with a steely gaze of his own which the younger ellon knew better than to defy.

As they walked away, Mablung growled, “Insolent whelp.”

Taurion turned so quickly, that Galadin lost his grip. Haldir watched from across the camp as his son lunged for Mablung and knocked him to the ground. The two rolled about punching each other, narrowly avoiding the fire.

“This has been a long time coming. Let them fight it out,” someone ordered.

The Galadhrim raced over immediately, but the ellyn of Doriath sufficiently outnumbered them and held them back.

Struggling against the four ellyn restraining him, Haldir looked over horrified to discover that the speaker was none other than Prince Celeborn. Ever did his lord trust him and rely on his wisdom in matters of weapons and training. How dare he interfere with Haldir’s command now!

But then again, Celeborn was not Haldir’s lord right now. He was merely one lord among many in Doriath though he was the only royalty present in the group from Doriath…which meant Haldir had to obey him - even if he were a mere little princeling in Haldir’s eyes. Haldir had tried for so long to instill respect for the leaders of Doriath in his people, and it was only proper that he set the example now. But then again, what would that do to his ability to command the warriors if he capitulated to a mere trainee? Technically speaking, Celeborn was under his command right now. What was he to do?

Fortunately, the two battling on the ground saved Haldir from the power struggle with his future liege. Mablung got the upper hand, pinning Taurion to the ground. Panting hard, Taurion went limp in obvious surrender. Mablung spat on him, then rose to turn away and proclaim his victory when Taurion twisted and kicked, delivering him a most foul blow which left Mablung cursing and rolling on the ground, curled around his pain.

Celeborn nodded and his ellyn released the Galadhrim. Haldir immediately went to his bruised and bloody son and pinned him to a tree with one hand gripping his son’s tunic and his other forearm across the ellon’s throat. “Boy,” he growled, “if you ever attack another elf like that again without orders to do so, then so help me, I will deal you the same blow that you gave Mablung. I am ashamed of you and your behavior these last several months and I am weary of your attitude! Now go to the stream and clean up and then go take the watch with Galadin.”

Turning away from his purple-faced, gasping son, he called over his shoulder, “Rúmil, Orophin, accompany him and do whatever you need to do to see that he stays out of further trouble.”

Abruptly, he released Taurion who fell to his hands and knees struggling to breathe. Grimly, Rúmil and Orophin took his place looming over the lad. Angrily Haldir strode over to the assembled Doriathrim who huddled around Mablung’s shuddering form. Using his most commanding fatherly tone, he demanded, “Prince Celeborn, you will join me over here now.”

Celeborn hesitated for a moment, then joined Haldir a few paces away from everyone else.

In a low authoritative voice, Haldir said, “My lord, I realize you are royalty and outrank every one of us here. However, in matters of warrior training, King Thingol, your esteemed uncle has placed me in command. Tensions are running very high among our respective folk right now and the best way to calm things is for each of us to respect the other. I have done all that I can to set the example for my folk, and it is time that you show your true worth and set the example for yours. The king and queen in their great wisdom have seen the potential value of warriors in the defense of Doriath and they have entrusted me with the task of training more warriors. You must see this value as well or you would not be here receiving training.”

Celeborn nodded, raising a hand to forestall him, “I agree with you, Captain Haldir, but I do not apologize for my actions just now. I commanded my ellyn to allow the fight to go on for good reason. If those two had not released their anger and met their strife physically, then it would have continued to come out in other ways and a full brawl might well have broken out among our respective peoples with more than just two ellyn being injured.”

He paused a moment, placing a hand on Haldir’s shoulder and moving a little closer, dropping his voice for only Haldir to hear. “I apologize for the way Mablung and my folk have behaved since our arrival in Gladhol Gelaidh. It was rude and most uncalled for. I also pity Mablung, but he deserved what happened to him just now just as your son deserved the blows he received. They saved us the trouble of punching them both ourselves.”

Celeborn laughed slightly and Haldir could not help but grin in agreement.  “Rest assured, my friend, that when my uncle’s chief guardian recovers enough to endure it, then I will publically reprimand him for his actions and his attitude. Again, Haldir, I apologize for overstepping your authority in this matter, and I will not do it again unless I feel I have very strong cause to do so. I have a great amount of respect for you as do my uncles and my adar and I can tell you from experience that their respect is very difficult to earn. Thank you for sharing your knowledge with us. I hope that moving forward from here we can better prove ourselves worthy of your time and perhaps eventually earn your respect as well.”

Haldir stared dumfounded, seeing for the first time in his few years and many months in Doriath, the great lord of elves that the silver-haired ellon before him would one day become. Taking a step back, Haldir saluted and gave a small bow. “Thank you, Prince Celeborn, for everything.”

XXXXX

They remained at the camp for more than a week, adding to the rudimentary map Orophin had begun as well as teaching the building of telain and creating a patrol outpost for future use. True to his word, Celeborn rebuked Mablung for all to hear and silent but grudging cooperation followed for a time. Upon breaking camp, the warriors spent the next few weeks teaching those of Doriath how to scout each new area, looking for suitable defensive and offensive positions and identifying more locations for telain which could serve as outposts for patrols and mustering points for troops.

Taurion served on many patrols – more than the other warriors – and always took the first watch upon setting up a new camp. Haldir had found that the most effective way to silence the ellon and his offensive attitude was to remove him from the situation. Unfortunately, Haldir was running out of ways to silence Mablung and his minions who seemed to be just as enthusiastic as Taurion at finding things to criticize.

“If it were not for the fact that we have effectively taught them not only to survive but to thrive in and defend the forest,” Rúmil commented at one point to Haldir, Orophin, and Galadin, “I would suggest we blindfold Taurion and Mablung and leave them out here somewhere and let them find their own ways back home. Unfortunately, I think they would eventually find us again and the peace would be too short-lived for us to bother with the trouble of losing them and then having to endure them being found again.”

Orophin nodded in grim agreement. “You know, Haldir, I used to think you were unbearable at times, but your son is far worse over a longer period of time than you ever were.”

Haldir glared at his brother with great irritation.

“I think there might be a compliment buried in there somewhere, Captain,” Galadin observed thoughtfully. “If you look hard enough.”

Everyone laughed at Haldir’s scowl until he threatened to reward them with duty alongside Mablung and/or Taurion. He made a mental note to keep that punishment in mind for future reference for he had seldom seen warriors snap to and immediately find other duties to occupy themselves more readily.

XXXXX

A few leagues from the northern border of the Forest of Neldoreth, Prince Celeborn made a suggestion which would serve to ease tensions for everyone for a few turns of the stars. Haldir immediately jumped at the opportunity to separate the two groups and gain some peace for everyone. And so it was that the trainees from Doriath departed for a week to scout ahead to the edge of the forest, build some telain, and map the terrain.

“Perhaps once we realize for ourselves what we have learned,” Prince Celeborn had said, “my people will be more gracious to you and grateful for the wisdom you have imparted. Likewise, your warriors may take some pride in our demonstration of the lessons we have learned from them.”

Haldir, his brethren from Lórien, and Galadin could find no fault with this plan, so they agreed to it, then sat back and enjoyed the bliss of at last being alone to better commune with the trees of this beautiful forest.

XXXXX

After five turns of the stars exploring and getting to know the trees as only the Galadhrim could, Haldir began to grow uneasy. He gave the feeling some time to go away, but when it only grew worse, he called his warriors to him.

“I think we need to go check on our friends,” he said.

Taurion snorted derisively at the term, but Haldir silenced him with a menacing glare.

“You feel it, too, then,” Orophin observed warily. “I thought I was the only one.”

After a short chorus of other comments about sensing something amiss as well, Haldir ordered the ellyn go out in search of their comrades from Doriath. They departed the camp at a jog and soon were running, with all of them now sensing that something was indeed wrong, very wrong.

At the forest’s edge, they found a series of partially constructed telain high up in the trees. A little farther away, they discovered the remains of a hastily abandoned camp. A short distance from there, they saw blood, spent arrows, a broken long bow, and two daggers partially buried in the ground as if they had been thrown. The warriors immediately scaled the trees, desperately searching for some sign of where to look next.

“Wargs!” Galadin’s eldest great-grandson called out, pointing to the northeast. “Six dead ones and more running away from here, skirting the edge of the forest.”

“Spiders!” Orophin’s middle son cried pointing to the northwest. “I count twelve dead ones and eight, perhaps ten more fled through the trees.”

“Spiders came through here in the last few hours!” Handir called from his position several trees away to the east. “They each were hauling something large, judging from the depth of the marks in the bark. I am seeing drops of red blood as well as black on the trunks of the trees.”

“Adar!” Taurion screamed some distance away as he hastily slid down a tree, dropping the last fifteen feet to the ground. He swore loudly and yelled again.

It took a few minutes for Haldir to reach his son for the ellon had managed to cover an impressive distance in a very short time, flying through the trees in his search. Haldir arrived to find his son crouching, shakily singing a song of healing to the still form lying prostrate on the ground before him.

Kneeling down, the captain brushed a few leaves from the hair of the unconscious elf. “Who is it?” he asked still unable to discern the identity, but Taurion shook his head as he continued singing.

Taurion’s voice grew stronger as he obviously gained more control of himself and moved his trembling hands from the closing puncture wound on the ellon’s back to the bite marks on the bloody lower legs.

Haldir swore, realizing the elf had been attacked by both a spider and a warg. “I do not understand,” he said as he gently grasped the shoulder of the unconscious ellon. “Wargs and spiders never ever fight side-by-side. What happened here, my friend? What happened?”

Galadin arrived just then, kneeling opposite of Haldir. With the greatest of care, he turned the ellon’s head enough to make out the features. Cursing softly, he gently caressed the bruised face as if the one before him were his own child, whispering, “Captain, it is Mablung’s eldest son.”

XXXXX

The warriors split into two groups: one to pursue the spiders and one to pursue the wargs. Both had returned empty-handed after slaying the creatures, though the spider hunters found more dead spiders before they reached and slew the remaining ones.

Mablung’s still unconscious son slept safely up in the canopy on the most complete of the telain under Taurion’s watchful care. Haldir sat in a different tree, his head bowed and resting on his bent knees.

“Stop reminding me who is out there, Angaril. Believe me I know, and I completely understand what is at stake if we fail to bring them back safely.”

“Very well. So… tell me why your arrogant ass of a son volunteered to stay behind to care for Mablung’s son, who is only slightly less annoying than his esteemed ‘chief protector of the king’ adar, instead of joining us to pursue and slay the spiders and wargs. The boy loves a good hunt and loves to fight. I cannot believe he willingly stayed behind.”

Haldir raised his head and met Angaril’s curious gaze. “Because the arrogant ass is also more compassionate than I have ever given him credit for. He told me that when he saw that it was Mablung’s son, he was tempted to not help him. But then it occurred to him that if his own son were ever injured and alone in the forest, he would hope that someone capable would find him and heal and protect him. Taurion could think of no one else in our company who is as good at both healing and at fighting as he is, so he volunteered to stay behind and tend to-“

“The son of his greatest enemy,” Angaril finished for him. “I am impressed. Very, Very, VERY surprised, but impressed.”

“You speak for me as well.”

“He is a son of Lórien, not of these dark, dayless lands,” Angaril observed wistfully.

“I know. I have seen that as well.” Haldir replied.

“The sons of Lórien meet strange and often terrible fates.”

Haldir laughed grimly. “I know. I have seen and lived that as well.”

Angaril returned a smile of his own, then suddenly looked about and rose to stand on his branch, holding onto the bole of the tree for support. “I see a warrior from one of the patrols returning. Let us hope he has news of the fates of our friends from Doriath that is neither strange nor terrible.”

Haldir arose as well and followed Angaril in climbing down to the ground. Unfortunately the news they received was both strange and terrible.

“Let me make certain I understand what you have said. Orcs killed some spiders and stole what they carried wrapped in web cocoons. They headed back into the forest, met up with the wargs and took custody of those they had injured. Then another part of the company of orcs split off, circled back and attacked the elves who pursued them.”

“Yes, Adar,” Handir replied.

“Thereby ensuring that now all of our comrades from Doriath are – “

“Prisoners of the orcs. Yes, Adar that is correct.”

Haldir pounded his fist against the nearest tree and let out a string of expletives in three different languages before calming enough to once again examine the situation.

“Where are my brothers?” He suddenly asked.

“They pursue the orcs with the warriors of their combined patrols and are leaving a trail for you to follow. They sent me back to report to you and ask that when the others return, all of you come and join them.”

“How long ago did you leave them?” Angaril asked.

“Two, perhaps three hours ago. I ran the whole way here.”

“Adar!” Taurion called, racing down from the talan where he kept healer’s vigil. “Adar, please do not leave yet, I want to go with you and fight.”

“Taurion, I am not going anywhere yet,” Haldir replied, gazing curiously at what Taurion held in his hand as he jumped to the ground and ran over.

“Adar, Mablung’s son awoke a short time ago. We heard the report. He asked me to give you this and said it might be useful. Then he asked me to go and save his adar.” Taurion unfolded the thing he held and handed it to a very surprised and most grateful Haldir. Unnecessarily, he explained, “Adar, it is a map of this area that the Doriathrim made before they were attacked.

Handir went to his adar’s side and looked at the map. He took a moment then pointed to where he had parted with Rúmil and Orophin, tracing the route he had taken to return to Haldir. “They move in this direction, Adar. If we cut across here,” he traced a line across the map from their current position. “we should be able to intercept them somewhere near here. They travel slowly for there are many wounded elves among them.”

“Angaril, climb the tallest tree and sound the call to return. The other two patrols should be near enough to hear.”

“Yes, Captain.” Angaril disappeared up a tree.

Haldir turned to his eldest. “Will your patient be all right up there without anyone looking after him while we go fight or does he need someone to stay with him?”

“He will be all right. He has ample food, water, and shelter up there. He needs rest, and by the time we return, he should be able to travel with assistance. He has asked that we all go and join the rescue. I am comfortable leaving him,” Taurion replied.

“Very well then, we will all go,” Haldir said.

“Adar,” Taurion said as he went to his brother’s side and began studying the map. “It is a very good thing the Doriathrim did the things you so wisely taught them to do, including building the telain and making the map. As my patient up there has already pointed out to me, it may very well be what saves their lives.”

Haldir nodded grimly. “I just hope the others come to realize this as well.”

XXXXX

The stars had completed their journey across the sky and new stars shone down by the time the warriors of the Galadhrim joined forces with Rúmil and Orophin’s group. Fortunately the orcs had stopped for a rest. Unfortunately, they appeared to be hungry and obviously were eying the more severely wounded elves as a possible meal.

“We cannot let them eat Thranduil and Celeborn,” Rúmil commented worriedly from their perch in a tree far enough away to observe but not be perceived by the orcs. “They are rather important individuals.”

“Uncle,” Taurion asked in confusion, “I understand why Celeborn is important for he is a prince of the realm and kin of the king. But why does that young ellon Thranduil matter so much to you? In the eyes of the Doriathrim, he is the younger son of a minor lord, yet you act as if he is royalty. I have been watching him for months. How could you possibly see him that way? Mablung and many of the others are more skilled at fighting and are more important to King Thingol than that young one.”

Rúmil hesitated clearly at a loss for words, but Ferevellon came to the rescue. “We..ah…see great potential in young Thranduil. We believe, based on what we have observed that he may well be great in his own right once he has seen a few more ennin.”

Taurion nodded a little uncertainly as did the other warriors, clearly unconvinced.  “Obviously you perceive something we do not yet see ourselves, but we will take your word for it. Perhaps in time we will see what you already see.”

“Perhaps you will,” Ferevellon agreed with a short smile.

“Does anyone have any questions about our plan for the rescue?” Haldir asked skillfully changing the subject.

“Yes,” Galadin replied a bit hesitantly. “I have known you for many ennin and was one of your very first warriors in Celos Galen. I do not see how it could possibly work. I only fought orcs the one time when we lost Celos Galen, but I saw that they think and have reason.” He shook his head. “Captain, please forgive me. I have never before questioned your tactics, but… however did you come up with this strategy?  It would never work on elven warriors.”

“Elves are intelligent and orcs are stupid,” Angaril said simply, eliciting many snickers from the younger warriors.

“And these are even stupider than the ones of the Third Age,” Fereveldir muttered in Quenya, thereby making the Lórien warriors grin as well.

Galadin looked ready to argue, but Angaril forestalled him with a raised hand. “Let me explain. Orcs fight in groups but they fear their leaders, knowing that death awaits them if they disobey or fail to please. They also are extremely concerned about their own well-being, appetites, and desires. This often causes a conflict within their ranks with much infighting and much fear of displeasing their masters while at the same time seeking to please only themselves.”

Shaking his head in disagreement, Galadin began, “I still do not see how…”

“Then watch and learn, Galadin, and have faith in your captain,” Haldir said cutting him off. “We have used this tactic many times before in Lórien to excellent effect.”

“Is that so?” Taurion asked dubiously.

“We are still here, are we not?” Fereveldir asked.

“The fact that you are in Beleriand at all, Adar, would suggest otherwise about your tactics,” his eldest son commented.

Fereveldir glared at his son. “We came to Beleriand after defeat in open battle, defending a fortress--,” he paused and rolled his eyes in annoyance as he remembered that they still might not understand fortress properly, “a walled settlement on the ground. There were many thousands of orcs there with far more training than these orcs have had. Here there are far, far fewer orcs than that. AND we have the trees and forest to use to our advantage as we did in Lórien. We did not have that when we defended the settlement. Please trust our judgment in this, and if our plan fails, then you can help us devise another one.”

“If we live through the execution of the first one,” Rumil’s eldest added, earning him much agreement from the younger warriors.

XXXXX

Following the plan, Rúmil and Orophin took twelve warriors and skirted the orc camp then positioned the warriors with extra quivers of arrows in the trees a good distance south and east. Returning to the camp, Rúmil and Orophin then went through the trees and on foot in different directions, making noises attracting the orcs’ attention. Haldir and the rest waited, knowing they would have to deal with the orcs who did not fall into the trap.

The orc commander sent out two parties to intercept them. When they failed to return after a short time, the impatient commander sent out many more. As soon as Haldir heard the bird call from his brothers that the second set of orcs was engaged, he called to his own warriors arranged in the trees around the camp and ordered them to begin firing their arrows.

Pandemonium erupted in the camp as arrows flew out of nowhere, each one taking down an orc or working together with others to take down a warg. The Doriathrim fled into the trees, taking the wounded with them as best they could. The more able-bodied elves, struggled free of  their bonds, wrestled weapons away from orcs and freed others or fought on foot while others retrieved the weapons taken from them and began shooting orcs as well. Some of the elves with bows joined the warriors in the trees and helped destroy the orcs which tried to flee. As fortune would have it, Mablung ended up in Taurion’s tree near Haldir.

Some of the orcs shot into the trees, trying to dislodge their attackers. Moving like one born to the trees, Mablung shifted through the branches dodging arrows while releasing some of his own. Taurion grinned at him in approval as they passed in their fighting.  At one point, Haldir glanced over and saw that his son was moving more slowly than normal and realized that healing Mablung’s son and the strain on the fae of being an adar with a young child were starting to take their toll on him. Haldir knew he was certainly feeling it himself even though his little twins were many leagues away.

Jumping aside and releasing a few more arrows, he looked over at his son again and watched in horror as an arrow found its mark. With a move more worthy of Taurion than of a Sinda, Mablung leapt across two branches and swung on another, catching the unconscious Taurion’s arm and stopping his body’s descent through the branches. Swinging around, he settled on a sturdy branch and pulled Taurion up. Panting hard, he clutched the ellon to him and leaned back against the bole of the tree.  Haldir made his way to their tree, shooting as he scurried across branches. With a nod of intense gratitude to Mablung, he took up a position to defend them.

 At some point, Rúmil and Orophin returned with their warriors and helped take down the remaining orcs. By the time it was all over, more of the elves of Doriath had suffered injuries, but Taurion was the only warrior of Gladhol Gelaidh who was injured.

As Haldir and Mablung worked together to staunch the wound and bring Taurion down from the tree, Haldir paused a moment and looked Mablung in the eyes, “Thank you so very much for saving my son. I am most grateful to you.”

Mablung smiled wearily causing the cuts on his face to bleed even more, “I was only doing what you taught me to do, Captain. And I am most grateful to you for coming to our rescue.”

“The captives here were not all that we rescued. There was another who my son,” he nodded to Taurion, “found who had escaped with wounds from a spider and a warg. Taurion healed him as best he could and the ellon woke long enough to give us the map which your folk had made. That map proved most valuable in planning your rescue for we do not know these lands.”

Mablung’s eyes grew wide with hope and unshed tears. “Did he survive?”

“Yes,” Haldir replied reassuringly. “Because of Taurion, your son is well.” Mablung sighed in relief and a single tear trailed through the blood and dirt on his face as Haldir continued. “He rests awaiting our return in one of the telain which your folk built. He would not allow me to leave anyone with him, believing that all would be needed to secure your rescue. You should be very proud of him.”

Mablung sniffled and wiped at his eyes. “Thank you, Haldir. I am proud of him and I am indebted to your son.”

Haldir smiled, “Considering you just saved Taurion’s life, I think you should consider the debt repaid.”

Nodding in agreement and approval, Mablung replied, “Very well then, we are both repaid.”

As they continued to make their way down the tree, Haldir commented, “Mablung, I am very proud of you and your folk, too. You have learned well and you fought well.”

Mablung paused and reached around to put a hand on Haldir’s shoulder. “This may surprise you, but your approval means a great deal to me. Thank you.”

It took some time before the wounded were all tended sufficiently for travel and the enemy remains disposed of, but eventually the group made their way back to the telain where Mablung’s son awaited. They remained there until the wounded recovered enough to begin the journey back to Gladhol Gelaidh.

XXXXX     

The travel was slow with so many wounded. By mutual agreement between Haldir and Mablung, they stopped in Menegroth to allow everyone to rest and to heal. They also thought it vital to report to Thingol all that had happened. No council meeting was scheduled so they had to meet Thingol in court.

The king and queen both sat forward in surprise when Haldir and Mablung were called as the last of the session to approach them.

“The months of training lie heavily on you both,” Thingol said by way of greeting after the two had made their low bows before the thrones.

“Indeed, your Majesty, indeed,” Mablung replied with a slight smile.

“You both are still dressed for travel,” Melian observed. “What is the reason for your haste in coming before us that you could not bathe and dress appropriately?”

“Our apologies, your Majesties, but we bring grave news and we felt it important that we deliver it sooner rather than later for already much time has passed, more so than I would have liked for this news,” Haldir replied.

“Speak then,” Thingol commanded.

And they did, relating the details of their mapping expedition as they now called it, leaving out the details surrounding their departure from Gladhol Gelaidh. Mablung told of the capture of the Doriathrim and the battle where Haldir’s warriors saved them all from the orcs and certain death.

“Your actions in this speak well of you and your warriors, Captain Haldir,” Thingol commended, “though the news of spiders, orcs, and wargs on our northern borders concerns me greatly. What do you recommend we do?”

“Your Majesty, if I may,” Mablung answered before Haldir could. “I suggest we continue our training and train many more ellyn as well in the ways of warriors and march wardens. Haldir and I discussed this on our journey back here from the border of the Neldoreth. We both feel that by establishing march wardens to patrol our borders and maintaining maps of both the forests of Region and Neldoreth, we can better protect Doriath from any future incursions by the orcs or the spiders or whatever other enemy may wish to try our strength.”

“The maps we have made already and the telain we built proved invaluable in the destruction of those who would do your folk harm and in the recovery of your folk as well,” Haldir added.

“You speak of our folk, Haldir. They are your folk now as well,” Melian gently admonished.

Haldir nodded unable to help the smile that crossed his face at the thought of actually being counted one of the Doriathrim! Especially considering all that he had been through in his life. “I am sorry for misspeaking, my Queen. Please forgive me. Indeed they are my folk as well, and I would protect and defend them as I have protected and defended my folk for thousands of years.”

“Mablung, my friend and chief protector, I am most surprised to see you agreeing with Haldir on this or on any matter at all. What has changed?” Thingol asked, his face and voice filled with curiosity.

“I have, my King,” Mablung replied simply. “I understand him and his methods and desires much better now. I admit I am most surprised that he has put up with me for as long as he has, and I, well, we are most fortunate that he did not abandon all of us trainees in the Neldoreth for our months of ill behavior. I have seen him fight and fully understand now the reasons for his planning and strategy and methods of training and absurd tree houses and his strange maps.”

Turning to Haldir, Mablung, in the sight of the entire court of Doriath, proclaimed, “Haldir of Celos Galen and now of Gladhol Gelaidh in Doriath, I offer my sincerest apologies for my behavior since your arrival here in Doriath. I misjudged you and I misjudged your people. You are wise though your ways are strange, and I was wrong to treat with you as I have. I truly am sorry, my Captain.” Then he bowed low before a very stunned Haldir and an equally stunned court.

Haldir stared at him, gaping, unsure of what to do or even how to respond.

After a few moments, Melian smiled brilliantly and gently chided, “Haldir, among the Sindar and most likely among the Galadhrim as well, when one apologizes to us, we bow in return and graciously accept their apology.”

Amidst many snickers and grins from the king and the court, Haldir awkwardly returned the bow and made his own statements of forgiveness. “And my son owes you an apology as well,” he quietly added for Mablung’s hearing only.

“There is no need,” Mablung replied in an equally quiet voice, “We made our peace already and he has invited me and my sons to stay with him and his wife and son when we return to Gladhol Gelaidh.”

Haldir smiled and sighed in heartfelt relief.  “Thank you, Mablung. I am most grateful – and relieved.”

Mablung smiled in reply as the king’s steward stepped forward and declared the court adjourned.

XXXXX

“Captain, I appreciate the offer and your opinion that I deserve this, but I truly do not think that I do.”

“Prince Celeborn, did you slay any spiders?” Haldir patiently asked, looking the prince in the eyes.

“Yes, two of them, but then that warg jumped and opened up my back,” Celeborn protested, taking another step away from the line of trainees. He moved slowly for his wounds obviously still pained him.

“Are the spiders enemies?” Haldir asked as he carefully took the freshly groomed prince by the arm and led him back to the group.

“Yes,” Celeborn sighed, “but I got wounded. I cannot even stand up straight yet.”

“Then, my friend, in a few minutes time you shall bear two badges of honor for your courage in the face of danger: the scars from the warg and the warrior braids I am about to bestow upon you. And you can lean on your walking stick during the ceremony. I do not mind and neither does anyone else. You will not be the only wounded ellon being recognized for the first time as a warrior.”

After depositing Celeborn in his place in the line, Haldir turned and gently placed his hands on the ellon’s shoulders. “I am very proud of you, Prince Celeborn, and I know in my heart that one day you will be a great warrior and fine leader of ellyn – far more than you believe yourself capable now. And when that time comes, I will be most proud to be counted among the warriors under your command.”

Celeborn still looked uncertain but sighed resignedly and leaned on his stick, holding it with both hands. “This is not the first time you have said such things to me, Captain, and I still do not believe you.”

Angaril walked over from helping to straighten the tunic of another wounded ellon in the line, and joined the conversation. “Prince Celeborn, do you believe that warriors never get injured?”

Celeborn slouched a bit, but did not answer.

“Does Taurion Haldirion deserve to be called a warrior?” Angaril asked.

“Without a doubt,” Celeborn replied. “But I-”

“He was injured during the battle and would have fallen to his death if someone else had not stopped fighting and caught him. Does he still deserve to be a warrior even though he was wounded in battle just as you were wounded in battle?”

“Yes,” Celeborn replied long-sufferingly.

“The other wounded who stand around you; do they deserve to be called warriors for their fighting and sacrifice?”

“Yes, of course they do!” Celeborn snapped. “They all fought bravely and remembered your teachings even when under attack.”

“Then, forgive me, my Prince, but I do not see what your problem is,” Angaril said simply. “Now stand silent and wait for the well-deserved title of warrior to be bestowed upon you.” With that Angaril and Haldir both turned and walked away to join the warriors of Gladhol Gelaidh standing nearby. 

“Thank you for the assistance,” Haldir whispered when they were far enough away to avoid being overheard.

“I was afraid you were going to slap our lord and liege – well our future lord and liege, if I did not intervene,” Angaril snickered.

Haldir laughed as well. “I was very strongly considering it, I must admit.”

“You look nervous, brother,” Rúmil commented a few moments later, punching Haldir in the right arm.

“I am nervous,” Haldir admitted, shaking his head in dismay. “I am about to confer the title of warrior on the first march wardens of Doriath! Why should I not be nervous?” He looked away for a moment, gathering his thoughts, then sighed. “I hope I do not forget the pattern of the braid again. When we practiced it earlier, I was having so much trouble remembering it from when Lord Celeborn showed it to us that one time.”

“Well, look at it this way,” Orophin said, “We will watch you plait the first warrior’s hair and then whatever pattern you use, we will use on the others.”

“And what if I mess it up?”  Haldir cried.

“Then who will know besides us, seeing as how we are about to establish for the first time and for all of history what the Doriath warrior’s braid looks like?” Angaril offered.

“So, nothing to worry about then.  I am simply writing history or accidentally rewriting history,” Haldir moaned.

“We are the only ones who will know if you rewrite it, correct?” Ferevellon asked.

Haldir nodded miserably.

“Then do not worry about it, Haldir!” Fereveldir admonished.

“Of course we would not let you forget it for the rest of time,” Rúmil commented offhandedly, “But I would not worry about that if I were you.”

Glaring in great annoyance, Orophin and Angaril each punched one of Rúmil’s arms rather harder than necessary while the twins each slapped Rúmil on the back of the head.

“Do you feel better now, Captain,” Angaril asked pleasantly.

“Yes,” Haldir grinned.

“Excellent! So do we,” Angaril replied brightly as he watched Rúmil scowling and rubbing his head, trying to massage his newly acquired bruises and straighten his hair and tunic at the same time.

Taurion came up to Haldir just as the ceremony before all in the king’s hall was about to commence.

“Adar, I know it is custom for the eldest warrior to blood the braids of a new warrior, but may I be the first with Mablung? I…” Taurion hesitated, wringing his hands uncertainly. “I…there is still some…well, animosity among our warriors concerning Mablung and some of his followers. I…I think that by my being the first to blood his braid, it will send the message that I have let go of my feelings and attitude from before and so should they. I never realized how much others followed my example until all of this started during the training. Everyone expects you to be diplomatic and wise and the perfect leader. I think it is time that I be wise and diplomatic like you and do the right thing as well. I think that since I doubted the loudest, perhaps…perhaps my doing what is right will be loud as well.” 

Haldir considered his son for a moment, seeing the changes in him since the battle. He was most proud of this son of Lórien more so than any other warrior he had ever trained. Handing the sigil e-hereg – the blood knife, to his son he replied, “I think it is most fitting that you should be the first to blood his braids and give him the kisses of a warrior. He is second in line. You may blood him when the time comes. Angaril and I will blood the others. ”

As soon as the king and queen entered the hall and assumed their seats, the steward called for the ceremony to commence. Haldir was indeed very nervous as he talked about what would happen and then explained each part of the procedure as it was conducted. He was not certain what honored him more: giving Prince Celeborn his warrior braids (he did remember the proper pattern after all, much to Rúmil’s disappointment) or conferring warrior status on the ellyn who would be the first Sindarin members of the march wardens of Doriath. It seemed to Haldir that the court of the king looked on in fascination and not a little envy as the warriors received their braids. He remembered from history that by the end of the First Battle of Beleriand, all of the lords of Doriath would wear warrior braids as would most of the ellyn of that land. The thought momentarily took his breath away as he realized that the warrior custom would come full circle because of what he was doing now. One day many ennin from now, Lord Celeborn would confer braids on Haldir and his comrades.

His expression must have betrayed his thoughts for Angaril paused at his side after finishing blooding the last braid and whispered, “I, too, stand in awe of what we have accomplished here and the tradition we have started. But why us, Haldir? Why us? Tens of thousands of warriors will train and bear braids over the next several thousand years. Any of them could have been chosen to do what we have done. Why were we the ones?”

Haldir looked over at Angaril who visibly struggled with his emotions. Careful not to get any blood from his bandaged hand on his dear friend, Haldir put his hands on his shoulders. “Your guess is as good as mine as are your doubts. I do not pretend to know why we were the ones chosen to do this, but at least we have succeeded. There will be march wardens in Doriath now and one day they will be the stuff of song and legend. One day they will inspire us or…well…” Haldir wrinkled his brow in confusion. “Ah…I guess we will…inspire ourselves? Dear Eru! Angaril, what have we done?!”

“I believe we just made certain that we will one day grow up to become warriors,” Angaril snickered and then a stricken Haldir joined him and soon they were both laughing so hard that tears were streaming down their faces.

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Over the next several years, King Thingol sent many ellyn to Gladhol Gelaidh to study the ways of warriors and march wardens. Once Haldir’s youngest children were old enough, he came to Menegroth for months at a time to train the king and many of the princes himself. Conveniently for Haldir, the training sessions always coincided with council meetings so that Haldir’s time during each visit to Menegroth was well spent between his roles as Captain and as a member of the king’s Privy Council. Each new set of trainees added to the maps of Doriath until both forests had been documented and every new trainee was required to memorize the maps. Outposts of telain lay scattered about in strategic locations as well, and both the warriors and those who had yet to earn their braids in combat worked together to patrol the borders.

Mablung and Taurion grew to be gwedyr and Mablung frequently brought his family to visit Gladhol Gelaidh even after his training was complete. They even attended the naming ceremony for Taurion’s daughter who was born thirty years after the Galadhrim settled in Gladhol Gelaidh.

Gilwen decided that the Sindar were not so bad so long as they went home often, showed honor and respect to the Galadhrim, and did not expect her to dwell in their ridiculous halls of stone. At long last, surrounded at home by his children and growing numbers of grandchildren, Haldir’s heart once again knew peace.

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Gwedyr – brothers but not by blood

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The call to arms came unexpectedly with no skirmishes on the borders for years and no preamble to war. History at least had told that part of the tale correctly. Without warning, Morgoth did indeed unleash his armies of well-trained orcs on the folk of Beleriand.

“King Denethor Lenwion sent word that they march south, having come down between the rivers Aros and Gelion,” Thranduil, acting as messenger, reported to the crowd amassed in the great hall of Gladhol Gelaidh. “Denethor said he will lead armed ellyn to meet us on the plains at or near Amon Ereb, which is south and east of here.”

“We know those lands,” Haldir commented from his position standing to the left of Chieftain Damrod while Brethil stood to the Chieftain’s right beside the great chair. “My warriors of Celos Galen and I mapped them many ennin ago, though we do not know for certain how far it is to Amon Ereb from here.”

“King Thingol’s scouts report it takes 10 turns of the stars to walk there from the southeastern edge of the forest of Region. Denethor’s people are closer and will be there sooner, hence the need for haste in gathering our folk to depart,” Thranduil replied.

“Will Denethor not wait for our arrival before engaging the enemy?” Brethil asked. “Surely it would be wiser for him to delay his attack until we are there to assist him.”

“It would be wiser,” Haldir agreed, “but Morgoth is fierce beyond all belief and will not wait for us to arrive and join our forces with Denethor’s. He will attack as soon as he has Denethor in his sight and he will slaughter those folk if we are not there when he gets there. He also will turn his attack on Doriath when he is finished destroying the Laegrim.” The Galadhrim nodded amongst themselves at his words. He hated to be so grim, but he knew how history would play out in this, the First Battle of Beleriand. Thingol’s forces would arrive just too late and few of the Laegrim would survive. Still though he could not let anyone go into this battle disheartened or the losses from Doriath would be even greater than he already knew they would be.

 “Our folk know all too well what it is to have help a few turns of the stars away when an attack comes and to be caught alone before the enemy,” Damrod acknowledged, meeting the eyes of different folk around the room. “We remember how it is we came to be in Doriath. I believe I speak for all of us that we would not wish those hardships of loss of homes and kin and forced resettlement in distant lands to be known by our brothers of other clans if we can help it. And we certainly do not want the orcs in our forest again.”

There were many more nods of agreement all around and Thranduil looked very relieved.

“Haldir, muster the warriors and any others of the few remaining ellyn of the Galadhrim who are not warriors who may wish to march. Depart as soon as you may so that you can meet Thingol at the appointed place and arrive before he does.  Prove to them all once again the greatness of the warriors of the Galadhrim and come home to us victorious!”

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Amidst the packing of provisions and stowing gear, there was very little time for proper farewells. Haldir did his best with so many daughters and grandchildren to hug and kiss goodbye before he marched away to this first of many battles to be fought in Beleriand in the war against Morgoth. He did not allow any of his grandsons to march even though they had been training to be warriors for a few decades. They were still too young and he wanted someone there to defend Gladhol Gelaidh should it prove necessary. Recorded history had been wrong about enough other details that he had no desire to take chances with the lives of his family. He named his youngest son along with Taurion’s son honorary captains (with Chieftain Damrod’s fond approval) and put them in charge of defending Gladhol Gelaidh should the need arise. His daughters and granddaughters offered their assistance as well.

“Daeradar, I know of all of the good hiding places high up in the trees and will run many practices escaping to hide to make sure all of the little ones are confident that they can safely make it to them in a hurry,” Nellas promised him. “My beloved and I will help look after all of the children as well while their edair are away. He is good with a bow, but is not allowed to go either.”

“My sweet little maid of the trees,” Haldir smiled as he hugged her proudly. “I love you so very much. Do not tell your adar until we return, but I give you my blessing to marry young Linarion. He is a good match for you, and I suspect that if you two do well in helping to care for those who remain behind while we are away, your parents will give you their blessing as well.” Pulling back a bit, he was rewarded with one of her spectacular blushing smiles.

“I love you, too, Daerada,” she said hugging him again tightly “Hurry back soon so I can get married.” Laughing, they broke apart and he stepped away to finish his goodbyes.

“I know you will not be gone as long as you usually are when you have to go to Menegroth to work with the king, but I still do not like it that you have to go away. You have been training other people to do this for many ennin,” Gilwen complained with a little pout.

When he glared at her, she sighed, “I realize that you need to go to lead them and show them how it is done, but I still will miss you with all of my heart. You are the mighty Captain Haldir and they are not capable of stringing a bow without you breathing down their necks to be sure they do it properly, but I do look forward to a time when you will not have to be the one to go. I know I am being selfish, but that is because I love you so much.” She paused, kissing him passionately and very much reminding him of why he married her. “I will look after the children and the families of your brethren so you need not worry. Now hurry off so you can come home the sooner.”

He smiled his gratitude and kissed her in return just as passionately. “I love you, too, Gilwen. I will return home soon.”

As the warriors marched away, Rúmil commented to no one in particular, “I hate the goodbyes, but those kisses are very, very nice.”

“Some of us do not have to be leaving our wives in order to get kissed like that,” Galadin commented cheekily.

Rúmil scowled while many laughed and Galadin raised his voice in a song in praise of the trees of home. Everyone joined in with the warriors singing the song many times until they could no longer hear the distant voices of those left behind singing along. Orophin started a marching song and thus they passed the time, travelling through the woods to meet up with the rest of the Thingol’s army.

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The decision to scatter trained warriors among the companies of soldiers was Thingol’s and he used it to good effect. He understood full well the prowess of trained warriors and knowing that if some served alongside a lesser-skilled ellon in the ranks, then that would do much to bolster courage and determination in the fight. Fortunately, Haldir was granted his brethren from Lórien to be in his company though his sons and theirs fought elsewhere. Also present in the company were Prince Celeborn and a few of the warriors from Doriath scattered among the farmers and fishermen who proudly marched with them as well. Handir marched with the company of Prince Galadhon, the king’s nephew, while Taurion marched beside Mablung in the company of the King.

The army of Doriath made good time, judging by the passing landmarks, and it looked as if they would arrive at Amon Ereb at least one turn of the stars ahead of schedule.

“Perhaps history was wrong,” Ferevellon commented, speaking Quenya so no eavesdroppers would understand. “Unless Denethor arrives there earlier than planned as well, we just might make it there in time to engage the enemy as a combined force rather than two. Perhaps with our folk merged with the Laiquendi, they will have a better chance of surviving. We are better trained and better armed.”

“It seems an awfully big thing to be incorrect about,” Fereveldir replied, “but then again considering all of the things that tales had grossly exaggerated or plainly had gotten wrong so far, perhaps we will get there in time.”

“And then what?” Rúmil asked. “The Laiquendi get slaughtered anyway and we get blamed for it for being there when it happens instead of being blamed for it for not being there when it happens?”

“They are too lightly armed for this sort of assault and that is why they died or will die. It will not matter if they engage the enemy on the same front as we do or on a different one as the tales say they did,” Angaril clarified.

“Well, perhaps there is some hope for them,” Haldir added. “The tales also speak of Beleg Cúthalion fighting as a leader in this battle and none of us have even heard tell of him here. No one as gifted as he could possibly saunter up and join the fighting without our having heard at least a small hint about someone like him before hand.”

The others nodded. “Good point, brother,” Orophin said.

“And thank you so much for the disheartening news,” Rúmil said sarcastically. “With no Beleg Cúthalion to protect us, why are we even bothering to go on?” He threw up his hands in disappointment and dismissal. “They should just call off the battle. We can send a message to Morgoth and advise him that we will have to engage him at a later time. How can we possibly have a First Battle of Beleriand with no Beleg Cúthalion?”

The six laughed loudly and long at that, earning them many curious stares.

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When they were one turn of the stars from their planned meeting with Denethor and his folk, the delay of whose consequences history spoke finally occurred.

“Orcs!  A whole army of them, coming out of the west from the edge of the Andram,” the scout called breathlessly.

Immediately, the army took up positions with Haldir’s company taking the brunt of the initial assault. Once the orcs came too close for bows, Haldir called for the drawing of other weapons for not all had swords. The fight quickly turned unexpectedly fierce for these orcs were much better trained than any the Galadhrim had encountered before. The engagement felt disturbingly more like fighting in the Last Alliance. During his brief verbal interactions with his brethren from Lórien as fate allowed, he could tell that they were feeling the difference as well. Before long they were swept deeper into the turmoil about them, fighting as if they were in the Second or Third Ages and not in the darkness before the First. Always they kept close to Prince Celeborn, knowing that he must survive above all others.

XXXXX

With no sun to show the obvious passage of time, there was no way to gauge how long they fought. When Haldir finally did have the opportunity to notice the movement of the stars, he found he no longer cared.

“Over here!” someone yelled.

Haldir tried to turn to see who it was, but found that he could not. “Be still,” Celeborn quietly said. Someone squeezed Haldir’s right hand and he squeezed back briefly. “I am here. I do not know where the others are, but I am here.”

“What-” Haldir gasped, “Wh-why do I hurt so?”

“Be silent, my friend, and I will tell you what I know,” Celeborn replied, in a tired voice. “We were cut off from the rest of the host and surrounded. Finally the king’s company arrived and the orcs turned to fight them. Your back is injured as is your left arm. I tied part of my cloak around your arm to staunch the bleeding. I can do nothing for your back. I have not the strength just now to try to help you further.”

“You are wounded?” Haldir asked, “We tried to keep you safe.”

Celeborn shifted, grunting as he did so. “I know you did. I am wounded, but I do not think my injuries are severe. They hurt…Eru, they hurt! But I do not think they are as bad as when that warg got a hold of me. I have you and your brothers and friends to thank for my life for many times you took or blocked blows meant for me.”

“You are worth it,” Haldir replied simply, “even if you do not always appreciate your own value right now.”

“You honor me, Haldir. Thank you.” Celeborn was silent for time, but he continued to hold Haldir’s hand.

Many cries of anguish rang out in the distance, but Haldir could not look around to see who was mourning whom. His own pain was bearable so long as he did not try to move.

“I see Mablung and I think your son is approaching,” Celeborn finally said.

“Adar!” Taurion soon cried, falling to his knees and taking Haldir in his arms. “Oh, Adar! When I saw your brothers and your gwedyr, I feared the worst for you as well.”

Haldir struggled to look over at his son and replied weakly, “Taurion, my son. You live!”

“Hush, Adar, do not speak. Save your strength. I could do nothing for the others, they were already dead. Their sons live though and are with them now. I have not found my brother yet, but I feel in my heart that he yet lives. Let me lend you strength and heal you.” But Taurion’s expression turned from relieved to sad and desperate as he examined him.

“I know they are dead. I remember now watching them die. It was like Helm’s Deep all over again, but somehow I do not think we will be given a second chance at life like we were then. This is too different.” Haldir reached up, brushing his right hand along his son’s face. As he drew it back, he looked at the blood on his fingers. “You are hurt.”

Taurion gave him a small smile. “It is nothing. I am fine. Please be still, Adar, I am going to heal you. Naneth will not forgive me if I do not bring you home safely.”

Haldir chuckled then coughed wetly, tasting blood. “I thought I was the one who was supposed to fear her wrath.”

His son smiled weakly back at him but a tear escaped down his cheek.

Taking as deep a breath as he could manage, Haldir said, “Tell your naneth that I love her. Give my love to your brothers and sisters and all of my beloved grandchildren as well. Tell-” He coughed again and reached out for his son who took his right hand in his.

“Adar. Please…”

“Please, Taurion, please… I need for you to listen to me. This is very important,” he panted.  “When the time comes that travel is possible, I want you to gather the family and take them to Lórien to wait for me. You need to take the families of my brothers and comrades of Lórien with you as well and wait for us there.”

Taurion’s expression turned to one of worry and dismay. “You wish for me to take all of them back across the mountains to Lórien from whence you came long ago? Adar, it simply is not safe to do so! You have no one left there. Why do you want me to do this?”

“No.” Haldir said quietly. “You misunderstand me. There are two Lóriens. The one by the Anduin where I lived for so long and served as captain of the march wardens and the one in Valinor. I want them to go to the Lórien across the sea.”

“But that is impossible!” his son protested.

“Right now it is, but it will be possible later. The Noldor are going to come to the aid of the folk of Beleriand, and-,” he paused trying to catch his breath.

“Who or what are the Noldor?” Taurion asked confused. “Adar, you are not making any sense.”

“That is sometimes to be expected in the gravely injured,” Mablung said gently from his place beside Celeborn where he treated the prince’s wounds.

“I…I am not babbling. I am quite lucid,” Haldir said irritably. “Do not interrupt me! I do not know how much time I have left to say this.”  He took a few ragged breaths then continued.

“The Noldor, the Tatyai from across the sea, will come and Celeborn will marry Princess Galadriel. During the War of Wrath, the Belain will send forces from Valinor to destroy Morgoth, and all of Beleriand will sink beneath the waves in the destruction. However, the way will be made open for travel to Valinor in great ships. Lord Círdan and his folk will build these ships. Make sure the families take ship to Valinor and go to Lórien. When the dead are reborn, they first return to life in the gardens of Lórien.  When I and those who we lost in this battle are returned to life, you will find us there.”

“Is this the foresight of the dying with which you speak, Haldir?” Celeborn asked, hissing and choking as Mablung broke off the arrow in his side.

Haldir chuckled and coughed, tasting more blood than before. “My Prince, it is not foresight when one has lived to see these things for oneself. And when a time comes and you are asked to send warriors to aid in the battle at Helm’s Deep, please let them go, let us go.”

“Helm’s Deep?” Celeborn grunted through gritted teeth. “Haldir, I do not understand what you are talking about.”

“Just remember it, Celeborn,” Haldir gasped painfully, then begged, “Taurion, help me sit up, please.”

Struggling with all of his strength, Haldir moved his right arm into as much of a salute as he could manage. “Prince Celeborn, it has been an honor to serve as your captain twice.”

“Twice? What are you talking about?” Celeborn asked confused. “Your words make no sense.”

Taurion shook his head at the prince, silencing him, then adjusted his hold on Haldir as he whispered, his voice breaking, “Many of our warriors from Gladhol Gelaidh were lost.”

Tears slipped down Haldir’s cheeks as he replied, “I know, but my prince survives because of us.”

“Because of you, my friend,” Celeborn said. “We held our position as best we could, then Mablung and the king’s forces arrived and finished off the enemy.”

“You have Beleg Cúthalion to thank for our getting to you in time to save the prince and try to save you,” Mablung said. “We have never seen an ellon fight the way he did. He has no equal among any of us.”

His strength spent, Haldir closed his eyes, resting completely against his son for a time. “Beleg Cúthalion?” he suddenly gasped, perking up a bit as he opened his eyes again. “Where…” More blood pooled in his mouth and some dribbled down his chin. “I grew up listening to tales and songs about him. I studied his strategies and…and battle tactics. All my life I wanted nothing more than to be a captain of march wardens just like him... He was all I aspired to be. I…” he struggled to catch his breath, but the air was slow in coming even though his pain was starting to ebb away.

“Please, Taurion, let me see Beleg Cúthalion just once before I die. I chided my brethren for wanting to go to Nargothrond and meet Finrod Felagund. Then they died before he ever even arrived here. But please…please let me meet my hero. Let me lay eyes on him and thank him for all that I became because of him.”

Taurion shifted a bit so Haldir could better see his beloved face marred by unceasing tears flowing through blood. “Adar,” he said uncertainly, “I am Beleg Cúthalion. I was given that name for my accomplishments in the battle. I fought like a proud son of the forest just like you taught me. Everything I am, everything I know, everything I can do, I learned from you.”

“Dear Eru!” Haldir cried in awe. “He is my son! Beleg Cúthalion is my son!”

The pain completely left him and everything around him faded except for the face of his eldest child. “Taurion, I love you so very much. I am so very proud of you…my son.”

“I love you, Adar,” Beleg Cúthalion wept as the last breath escaped Haldir’s lips.

There was a great tug on Haldir’s spirit and a heartbreakingly beautiful voice, indeed a Presence surrounded him, filling him with peace.

“Come with me, Child. Your rest is well-earned.”

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Author’s Notes: It’s a good thing they didn’t call off the battle or Beleg might not have received his name. The six from Lórien did accomplish enough to earn a good long rest and be spared the many griefs which lay ahead of the elves of Doriath, let alone all of Beleriand. Stay tuned for the epilogue! In the meantime, go back and reread the prologue and you will have a much greater understanding of Celeborn’s reaction to everyone marching off to Helm’s Deep.

Taurion means “son of the forest”

Beleg, who was said to be unrivaled in stalking, tracking, and hunting, describes himself thus in one of the HoME books: “I am the hunter Beleg - of the hidden people; the forest is my father - and the fells my home”

Nellas was the elf maid who looked after the mortal Turin when he was a child in Doriath. She used to sit in a tree and watch over him while he wandered and played. Because of her vigilance, she was able to speak in his defense before the king when Turin was accused of murdering the annoying elf Saeros.  It is my invention that Nellas was the cousin of Beleg.   

Laegrim/Laiquendi – the folk of Denethor of Ossiriand

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The streets of Avallónë, Tol Eressëa bustled with activity in the light of late morning. For a port town, it was very crowded, but then again, when one travelled with one’s wife and brothers and gwedyr and all of their wives and all of the collected children and grandchildren and some additional generations of great-grandchildren…Well…any place would be crowded at that point.

“There is a group coming up behind us, Adar,” Beleg said.

“Did you use your superior tracking skills to figure that out, Nephew?” Rúmil asked cheekily.

“Of course! I turned around and noticed what every one of you overlooked: the guard of three kings and the abundance of royalty on horseback directly behind us,” he replied amiably. “Perhaps we should step aside off the street and let them pass before they trample us.”

“Now where would the fun be in that?” Rúmil asked.

As if on cue, the entire group of family behind Rúmil parted (notably none of them were Rúmil’s descendants), very obviously making him an easy target for the horses.

“Hey! Now that was rude!” Rúmil called to those who had moved aside.

“But we are simply showing our respect for the royalty behind us and getting out of their way, Uncle,” Orophin’s eldest son replied innocently.

Laughter rang out from the kings and their entourage behind the group of Galadhrim.  Dutifully, though grumbling irritably, Rúmil moved off the street along with the rest of the snickering family so those on horseback behind them could pass. Bowing and curtsying, the Galadhrim paid their respects as the horses passed.

One of the riders stopped directly in front of Haldir and his brethren, causing those behind her to draw up short while others gathered around. “Arise!” she commanded.

Haldir and his brethren stood at attention, huge smiles lighting their faces as they recognized the Lady Galadriel.

“My Lady!” they cried joyfully as she dismounted and embraced each of them.

She flushed in embarrassment and stepped back, clasping her hands in front of her and assuming a more regal pose. “Forgive me. I just…It is so good to see you all again! Familiar faces from among the Galadhrim are rarely seen in Tirion, and I desperately miss my folk of Lothlórien.” The kings, queens, and others in the royal entourage smiled in greeting.

“We have missed you, too, my Lady,” Haldir replied struggling to contain his joy. It had been so very long since he had last seen her!

“Were you recently released from Mandos?” she asked.

“Yes,” Gilwen answered for them. “Lord Námo kept my husband and his brethren for a very long time, thousands of years in fact, which is most unusual.”

Galadriel regarded her strangely. “Your husband? Who would that be and why was he kept for thousands of years? Forgive me, but I was speaking to these ellyn: Haldir, Rúmil, Orophin, Ferevellon, Fereveldir, and Angaril. They served me as march wardens for thousands of years. Haldir was my captain until-,” Galadriel blinked a few times, and pursed her lips as she looked away, bowing her head.

One of the kings with golden hair similar to hers dismounted as well and put his arm around her shoulders. “The thousands of years spent in Middle-earth lie heavily upon my daughter, and she has required much healing since her return to Aman, so she may not yet be quite as you remember her,” he said by way of explanation. Looking to Galadriel, he gently asked, “He was your captain until when or what?”

Taking a deep breath, Galadriel visibly steeled herself, though she still looked more tired and worn than Haldir had ever seen her, as she replied sadly, “Until Celeborn and I sent him and his brothers and the other three I mentioned to their deaths in the battle at Helm’s Deep. Two hundred marched on our orders and not one came home again.”

“Yes, well…” Haldir started to say, but the king’s powerful gaze met his and he found he could no longer find the proper words to say. A great sense of awe swept through him as it became very clear to him from which parent Galadriel received her commanding presence.

“Such is the burden of leadership, my daughter, as you well know,” King Arafinwë of the Noldor said quietly. “Eru knows I have sent my share of warriors to their deaths in battle as well. I understand what you are feeling, but they obviously are reborn and hale now, and, unless I am badly mistaken from the way they hugged you just now,” he paused, a broad smile lighting his face, “they do not appear to harbor any ill will against you.”

Haldir struggled to calm himself enough to finally reply, “No, my Lady, we harbor no ill will against you. In fact, we owe you our gratitude for sending us. If you had not, then our kin surrounding us now would not be here.”

Galadriel appeared both relieved and very confused as she looked at the crowd surrounding them. Suddenly she gasped as she noticed someone else in the group. “Beleg? Beleg Cúthalion? What-?” She clapped her hands to her mouth in bewilderment. “Beleg…” she repeated breathlessly, lowering her hands. “It has been so long! What are you doing here?” She looked at Gilwen again with dawning recognition then addressed her and a few others as she motioned to them with her hand. “I remember you now. You are Beleg’s naneth! You two are his sons and you are his daughter. You are his brothers and sisters...”

Then Galadriel looked back at Haldir and his comrades. “Haldir, forgive me, but why are you with these people? Do you know them from your new settlement, perhaps?”

Haldir shook his head, bowing it as he bit his cheek trying to think of how to explain. He laughed to himself. “Ah…” he finally managed as he looked up.

“Truly? Is that all you have to say?” Handir asked, crossing his arms in mock affront as he glared at his adar.

One of the other two kings dismounted and came forward, gasping in surprised awe, “Haldir? Is…is that really you? After all of these years… By all the Belain! It has been a very long time!” Striding forward, he embraced a very stunned Haldir.

Tentatively returning the embrace, Haldir stuttered, “Ah,…er… hello your m-majesty.”

Galadriel looked about even more confused. “Uncle?” she demanded “What are you doing?”

Clapping Haldir on the back, Thingol withdrew and proudly replied, “He was a member of my Privy Council. He trained my first warriors and march wardens. It is because of him and his folk from Celos Galen and the training and knowledge he provided us that we survived the First Battle of Beleriand even though he did not survive that battle. He and his brethren protected Celeborn and saw to it that he survived that battle, such was their loyalty. Is Mablung with you, too?

“No, Sir, he did not journey with us,” Beleg replied.

“A pity. I wish to see him again.” Thingol said wistfully. “Ah well, at least I have Haldir now and as well as Beleg back again.”

“Uncle, I think you are confused. That is just not possible,” Galadriel declared. “Captain, well former captain Haldir here served as one of my march wardens for five thousand years in the Second and Third Ages and was my captain after the Last Alliance. His adar and two edair before him lived in Lórien and together they served the kings there before they all died in the Last Alliance at the end of the Second Age. Haldir was not even alive in the First Age.  I was in Doriath for most of the First Age and I never knew anyone named Haldir on your Privy Council.”

“And I just said that Captain Haldir here died in the First Battle of Beleriand before the Noldor ever arrived in Beleriand. Of course you did not know him then. But-” He looked at Haldir strangely, then slowly gestured back and forth between Haldir and Galadriel a few times. “You should not know her,” he said pointedly to Haldir.

“He was born in Lothlórien!” Galadriel exclaimed. “Of course he would know me!”

“I, for one, have never laid eyes on the ellon before in my life and we are blocking the road,” the third king called loudly from his horse. “How about we take this intriguing enigma of an ellon and his kin to a local inn and discuss over lunch in a more relaxed setting how you all know him and why you should not. We have plenty of time for Lord Celeborn’s ship is not due to arrive until the middle of the afternoon.”

“What an excellent suggestion, Atar,” the king of the Noldor said brightly.

“Well, Adar, it looks as if we now have lunch plans,” Beleg said to Haldir, giving him a look of intense pity as he clapped him on the shoulder consolingly.

Confounded, Galadriel looked back and forth between Haldir and Beleg. “Adar?” she asked.

“Get on your horse and we will talk at the inn, Granddaughter,” the third king said sternly.

Thus Haldir and his family were treated to lunch by the king of the Teleri, his brother the former king of Doriath, and his son-in-law the king of the Noldor.

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Needless to say, they took over the entire dining room of the inn. Several tables were placed end to end to accommodate the large groups and to enable as many as possible to hear the conversation between the royals and Haldir and his brethren. After the introductions were made though, Haldir wondered why his brothers, Angaril, Ferevellon, and Fereveldir even bothered to sit with him for they had gone speechless, gaping in awe as soon as they were introduced to Finrod Felagund. 

Gesturing to the five, Haldir looked at Finrod and explained, “I apologize for them. They had desperately hoped to meet you when you came to Doriath, but we died before you arrived. And they had wanted to see Nargothrond when we travelled across Beleriand on our way to Doriath even though it was just some uninhabited caves at that time. I forbade them to go, which irritated them, but we could not afford the delay in our journey north. They will recover soon enough and start speaking again and then you might wish they had not.” He grinned at the confused prince.

“So…how is it that both my brother and my granddaughter seem to know you when, according to her you were born in Lothlórien in the Second Age, and according to him, you died in the First Battle of Beleriand before the rising of the sun and moon?” King Olwë of the Teleri asked, obviously intrigued.

Haldir took a swallow if his wine trying to buy himself some time to think of how best to explain himself. Setting down his cup he nodded toward Thingol’s queen and ventured, “Queen Melian could explain it. She understands as well as we do if not better.”

Everyone looked at Melian who smiled beautifully. “I do understand it,” she said simply. “But, Haldir, since you lived it, you should be the one to explain it as best you understand it.”

Thingol turned to her in surprise. “You understand now. Did you know then? And if so, why did you not say anything?”

“Oh, I knew where and when he was from as soon as I met him,” Melian said, “but he had the blessing of Ulmo on him. Ulmo told me when I met Haldir to help the ellon and not speak of Haldir’s origins other than what he chose to reveal. There was a greater purpose at work and it was vital that it run its course. Occasionally Ulmo would advise me concerning the six from Lórien, but I was only permitted to act as I was bid, so that is what I did.”

“A greater purpose…” Thingol echoed carefully.

“Yes,” Melian agreed. “Did the ellon and his comrades not train our fighters and teach us the importance of march wardens and maps and warriors for defending our borders and protecting our folk?  Would Doriath even have survived the First Battle if not for their teachings, their skill at arms, and the prowess of those whom they sired and of those whom they trained?”

Thingol glanced over at Beleg who grinned at him. “No, we would not have survived.”

“So, it is back to you, Haldir,” Olwë said, gesturing with his cup. “I commented before that you are an intriguing enigma and you appear to be proving it. Now, tell us your tale. I am particularly curious to know how you died before you were born.”

Haldir shifted uneasily in his chair, then sighed in resignation. “I was born in Lothlórien early in the Second Age. Angaril, my two brothers, and I all fought in the Last Alliance of Elves and Men and saw King Oropher, King Amdir, and King Gil-galad die. During the years of that war, we observed that Sauron would send storms filled with spells which would cause horrific things to happen. All of the warriors serving under King Amdir and King Oropher came to dread these storms for we saw firsthand how they distorted reality or caused things to appear that had not been there before or made other things disappear before our very eyes.”

Galadriel nodded grimly, “I heard report of such things from those who returned from the war.”

 “Yes,” Haldir agreed, “and when Sauron gained power again in the Third Age, we believe that through the wizard Saruman, he wielded the storm power once again. When we arrived at Helm’s Deep to aid the Rohirrim, the skies were clear and full of stars. As soon as the Uruk-hai approached the walls, the skies clouded and loosed a horrible storm of torrential rains and searing lightening. The six of us,” – he gestured to himself and his comrades – “were struck down by Uruk-hai and orcs, suffering grave injuries. I remember a great blinding flash of lightening as I collapsed in agony, and when I woke again, the six of us were in Celos Galen in the Night before nights.”

“Our hunters found them on the ground near the edge of the forest grievously injured,” Gilwen continued, squeezing Haldir’s hand where it rested on the table beside her. “We thought they all had been poisoned by their wounds and suffered head injuries for they babbled about things of which we had never before heard, such as fortresses and men and Anor and the concept of day.” She laughed at that and those at the tables who remembered the Night all smiled and some shook their heads in amusement.

 “It took many months for them to recover in body as in mind and spirit and begin to contribute to our settlement,” Gilwen continued. “In time they taught us to fight, introducing the concept of warrior in our settlement and in the surrounding settlements and teaching us the value of taking the offensive against the creatures of the dark which threatened us instead of simply moving the settlement every time the danger grew too great. They seemed so very wise in great and important matters, but they lacked all sense in the simple things which were painfully obvious to us. They suffered a lot of teasing and ridicule because of that.”

“Ah, but you ellith were quite willing to marry us anyway,” Rúmil observed triumphantly.

“Yes, we were,” his wife agreed, “but we also helped to ridicule and tease you, too.”  – She flashed a wicked grin which the other five wives copied – “It was so very charming the way you seemed so knowledgeable about great or far away things like the sea and making long bows and the lay of the land beyond our forest, yet you were clueless about the customs of the tribe from which you haled.”

“We had no way of comprehending how much our culture in the Third Age had been influenced by the Sindar and the Noldor until we had the chance to live among Galadhrim who had never met either of those two clans,” Orophin defended. “It was very much of a shock to us to learn how much the Galadhrim had changed over time. There were things that we took for granted in the Third Age and even the Second which we desperately missed in Celos Galen.”

“We had to learn how to measure time by the stars and try to figure out what things the folk of Celos Galen knew about and what things were foreign to them. For example, tables,” Haldir tapped the table for good measure as he continued, “wooden chairs, maps…”

“And framed feather beds,” Beleg chimed in, causing his elder kinsmen to laugh, though the rest looked a little confused, not understanding the jest.

 “Yes, you would know about that would you not? Especially considering you had never seen one before we moved to Doriath and then your daeradar made you learn to make them for the settlement.” Snickering, Haldir continued, grateful for the levity, noticing many amused looks as their listeners seemed to be pondering the absurdity of Beleg the mighty warrior of legend making feather beds.

“Things such as these were unknown to them, while they were phenomenal hunters and moved like wraiths through the woods, keeping to the trees even more than the Galadhrim of Lothlórien do or did. Even after we figured out what had happened to us, it took a long time to figure out where we were. We journeyed on a mapping expedition and determined our settlement was located in a forest in southern Beleriand called Taur-im-Duinath.”

Finrod’s expression darkened.  “That was a place the Noldor pointedly avoided. It was filled with evil creatures and mysterious Dark Elves.”

“Yes,” Angaril chuckled, “our Galadhrim were those mysterious Dark Elves, although we had left there by the time you had arrived. As much as we wanted to meet the great Elves from our history, we also had the wit to try to avoid situations where we might be forced into revealing our origins.”

“But you died before the Noldor showed up anyway,” Beleg said, “Although Mablung, Prince Celeborn, and I were rather shocked when they showed up as adar predicted and we realized he had been telling us the truth about your past or our future when he lay dying in my arms.” He nodded to his adar who smiled back. “Mablung and I did not live to see all of the things he spoke of come to pass, such as the War of Wrath, but as you already know I did convince my naneth that she needed to take everyone to Valinor when the opportunity to do so arrived.”

“I will always be grateful to you for convincing her to go,” Haldir acknowledged. “And, getting back to the discussion, yes, we did die before the Noldor arrived. We only figured out when we were once the First Battle of Beleriand was upon us. By then such knowledge was irrelevant to us because none of us survived that battle. The Sindar did not exactly keep good or any written records of the time before the sun and moon, and tales tell little of what happened before then – even those told by the Galadhrim. The Noldor had been the ones who wrote everything down and we were grateful for what they did record and pass down through the ages.”

“So how did Ulmo figure in this?  Why did you leave Celos Galen?  How did you come to Doriath?” King Arafinwë asked in fascination.

Heaving a great sigh, Haldir toyed with his cup a bit and watched as the innkeeper came by and refilled it for him and refilled the other cups as well. Once the ellon had wandered back to the kitchen, Haldir took a drink and replied, “Our comrades and I loved Celos Galen and enjoyed the respect of the people there as well as that of the folk of the other two nearby settlements. About two or three months after my wife became pregnant with our youngest, a set of twins, we received word of wargs having attacked one of the other settlements. In the span of two weeks, perhaps less than that, the other settlement had been attacked by orcs three times before falling, the survivors of both settlements had come to join with us in Celos Galen, and Celos Galen then fell as well after a massive attack by orcs and wargs.”

He paused and everyone remained still in respectful silence for a few moments. His voice was soft and sad as he continued, “Each settlement lost its chieftain and Gilwen’s adar became the chieftain of the three settlements for they had joined together as one people now.  However, I was held as the Captain of all of the warriors of the three settlements ever since we trained the first warriors, so the survivors – all three hundred and some odd of them - looked to me for guidance in what to do next and where to go. My comrades and I saw no alternative but to lead them to Doriath and hope that Menegroth was completed and that we might find refuge there.”

“The journey must have been very dangerous from what I remember of those lands. However did you cross the Andram with three hundred people, especially with your wife pregnant?” Finrod asked in amazement.

“Oh she was not the only one pregnant when we left Celos Galen, for our wives were with child as well as were a few other ellith,” Ferevellon clarified, “And by the time we left Nan Tathren, a great many more of the ellith were pregnant.”

“Why?” Queen Eärwen asked, looking from the wives to the other queens in confusion. “If you were fleeing for your lives, why would anyone think that would be a good time to bring forth a child?”

Gilwen rolled her eyes and the other wives exchanged dumbfounded looks. “You know, it is indeed a wonder that the other clans survived at all considering their fear of having children unless they were in safe pristine environments like…well like here in Aman! What is wrong with you people?” Haldir jabbed her with his elbow and shook his head, but she ignored him, causing him to roll his eyes and silently beg the Belain for mercy before his wife insulted so many royals from different lands.  Those from Aman looked at her in great surprise, clearly uncertain as to how to respond.

Gilwen sighed in annoyance and took a swig of her drink, “All right, I guess I need to explain it to you. We had wondered where you all got those crazy ideas, Haldir. Now I guess we know.” He did not bother responding. “If elves were so scared to have children until everything was just perfect around them then everyone in Middle-earth would have died out a long time ago. And there never would have been enough of our race for folk to bother leaving Cuiviénen, considering the dark things which lurked in the forests nearby and stole away the unsuspecting and those who ventured forth alone.”

“That danger had a great deal to do with why we left, if I remember correctly,” Olwë offered. “We stopped having children under less than ideal circumstances because we did not want them to die young and we did not want them to have to be raised by only one parent or by kin if there were great risk of both parents being lost.”

“But you still had children along the way as you journeyed,” she said.

“Yes, we did,” Olwë agreed.

“And that is what we did. Do you not remember the way all elves used to celebrate each new place they visited and the way they would enjoy each dear place which was familiar?” she asked.

 “Of course and we still do celebrate those places old and new with music and song,” Arafinwë said clearly beginning to take offense. “We may dwell in peace here, but we have not forgotten how to appreciate the land and how to be elves.”

 “Your majesty, forgive me, but you are too young to remember the kind of customary celebrating of which I speak,” Gilwen admonished.  “I have been in Aman for a few thousand years and have yet to observe anyone here who remembers the old ways, except maybe for some of the Teleri.”

There were many grumblings in response to that, but then Olwë’s queen suddenly burst out laughing. “Oh, I know of what you speak now! I can assure you that many of the Lindar still observe that particular custom, in fact every new ship is so...ah…blessed by that particular custom, especially if the captain or owner of the ship is married. If they are not, then it falls to the married crew members to see to the…ah…blessing. And I also agree that Arafinwë is too young to remember a time when many of our folk in Aman followed that custom.”

The Noldorin king and queen both scowled as did the others who clearly did not understand the discussion. Those who did understand struggled valiantly with their emotions to not show what they were thinking.

“Ahhh,” was Olwë’s initial comment to the still confused and flustered group as realization suddenly dawned on his face, then he shifted uncomfortably and muttered under his breath. “Probably be best if you did not further elaborate about the custom with palaces, my dear…”

Those who understood lost their struggle at that point and the rest looked angrier and more perplexed. Haldir simply put his head down on the table, silently yet desperately wishing that an uruk would suddenly appear in the room and kill him. It would be a far more preferable fate to the conversation he was having now.

Once the overly amused had calmed themselves, Rumil’s wife explained, “Nan Tathren was a beautiful land with lovely wispy willow trees and a singing river heady with the music of Ulmo’s song.”

“I understand now why more of the ellith were pregnant when you left,” Olwë said. “But was it really necessary to have children result from the…er…celebration?”

Haldir looked up as Arafinwë and Eärwen both suddenly gasped in realization and Arafinwë quietly defended, “Too young to remember it as the custom of others but not too young to have practiced the custom myself.” Then he seemed to realize he had spoken aloud for he turned bright red and quickly exclaimed and in an overly loud voice, said, “So, tell us about Ulmo!”

Haldir noticed that both Galadriel and Finrod looked extremely uncomfortable and more than a little embarrassed. At least he was no longer the only one who felt that way while Thingol and Melian simply laughed long and loudly at everyone.

The rest of the interrogation by the royals was not nearly as embarrassing as Haldir, his sons, and his comrades dutifully answered the questions put forth. Once the food arrived, the conversation turned to the life of the Galadhrim in Aman and how the reborn were settling in. Blessedly, the time passed quickly and soon they made ready to travel to the quays to await the arrival of Celeborn’s ship.

The royal entourage went on horseback while Haldir and the others resumed their walk. A large crowd assembled to wait for the ship. Many Noldor and Sindar stood clustered in groups, cheering as the sails came into view. The ship was simple and white with billowing white sails and many elves dressed in varying hues of grey, green, dark red, and brown – the colors favored by the elves of Middle-earth.  At the prow of the ship stood an ellon dressed in white accompanied by a silver-haired ellon in a march warden captain’s uniform.

When the ship docked, the two at the prow waited until last to disembark. As they finally stepped onto the quay, they were swarmed by loved ones.

Ferevellon and Feveldir nearly tackled the march warden captain. “Adar!” they both cried, tears of joy shining on their faces.

Once they had calmed enough for introductions, Thrandronen stared in shock at the large families his sons had amassed in the seemingly short time since he had lost his twins at Helm’s Deep. “We will explain later,” was the only reassurance they could give to their clearly bewildered adar as Haldir stepped forward and embraced him in a fierce bear hug.

“I have missed you, my friend. I looked after your sons as best I could and, well…we will explain it later over a very large bottle of wine after we greet Lord Celeborn.” Haldir clapped Thrandronen on the back and watched as the rest of the confused ellon’s very large family moved to escort him away.

When Celeborn surfaced again from the arms and welcomes of his own family, Haldir and his five comrades walked up to him. Celeborn smiled joyfully as his family looked on.

“I did what you asked of me all those ennin ago,” he said by way of greeting. “I let you go, Haldir, just like you asked me to on that battlefield.”

“Yes, you did,” Haldir nodded, his heart filling with emotion. “And if you had not…Eru, how things would have gone differently!”

Celeborn nodded, obviously blinking back his own emotions. “You would not believe how difficult it was for me when I first recognized you in Lothlórien. It took me some time to realize and fully comprehend that you were the same ellyn who taught me in Doriath. And once I did understand, I could say nothing! Oh! You would not believe how many occasions I had to bite my tongue or I shared only part of my memories of those times long ago and hoped that one day you would understand what I was trying to say to you.”

He embraced each of the six ellyn before him. “When life here allows it, I would dearly love to sit with you all and talk about all of our memories together.”

Thingol laughed and when they all turned to him he said, “Nephew, you will have a large audience for that discussion.”

Celeborn looked between Haldir and Thingol confused and not a little concerned, so his uncle elaborated, “Earlier today after an amusing reunion in the middle of a busy street, Haldir told us about his adventures. I believe I speak for us all when I say that we would enjoy hearing your perspective on this as well.”

As Celeborn shifted uncomfortably, Haldir clapped him on the shoulder. “My Lord, when you are settled or when you are ready, whichever happens for you first, we would love to talk with you. Lady Galadriel knows where we are staying here and in Aman proper. You have but to send for us and we will gladly come and talk.”

Celeborn nodded his gratitude, smiling as Haldir added, “And…welcome home, my Lord. Welcome home.”

Fin (because it seems more elfy than The End, LOL)

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Notes:

Thank you so very much for reading and (I hope) enjoying this story. It took years to write this story because of the geographical nightmare it posed and trying to figure out when in the pre-First Age Haldir and his friends had ended up as well as where. Tolkien says next to nothing about the customs of the Galadhrim and about that same amount about the Elves of Middle-earth during the Night before nights as well. My betas were awesome as were the other people (Fianna, Himring, Istarnie, Marnie, and a few others) who I consulted with over the years trying to get a grip on this story so I could finally write and finish it.

atar - Quenya for father

Teleri and Lindar are the same group, but they refer to themselves as the Lindar while everyone else refers to them as the Teleri. XXXXX