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.

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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.