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.”

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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.

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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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