He saw the marble likeness of his wife before him, his arm around the shoulders of his son. He knew, he knew it well that it was lust that first drew him to his dead Queen, for she was powerful, she was intelligent, and most of all, she was beautiful. Her sapphire eyes spoke more to him that the tomes of magic that he had consumed, and those of warfare, her hair, long and silk-like to the touch… She might have had no passion towards him, but in some way, to a certain degree of his dark heart, he had cared for her, more than he could ever imagine, and she could have known.

The very moment when she had told him that she was with child, his heart had soared. Yes, he would need a son from her, a being of sheer power and bloodlust, but a part of him was overjoyed, that he would have a person to love, and to be loved in return. His father had been neglected him, being absent from his childhood, only as a dark and foreboding presence bent upon destruction… Yet, he followed his father's dark path, all in the name for the restoration of peace, to protect his lands and his people, at least in his own mind…

He knew very well that throughout his cold marriage to her, and her healthy pregnancy, she had wished for a daughter. A daughter that would take after her, a daughter who would dote upon her father, and a daughter who would also save the world the very way she knew how… He could not risk that, he needed a son. And when his son was born, he was able to dissuade her from killing him… Who knew that she grew to love him as well? Before the young Prince, his parents were civil, they laughed and ate together, and played with their son. The child did not know that it was a façade…

That night when he had known that she had attempted to kill their son. He was heartbroken. It was then when he had remembered why she had come to him in the first place: full pardon of all those who rose against him, the building of homes for each orphaned child… He had granted to all her terms, with the condition that she became his wife… and she did. And now, it had become clear why she had consented to bear his child. She would have had their son to contact the Seeker, to bring him back, in order to have him killed.

He told her that she deserved a fate worse than death, but through their years as King and Queen, as husband and wife, he had granted her immediate execution upon the block… Who knew that it was their son who offered to execute her himself? Passing his child's actions as an act of vengeance (for he had disposed of his own sire in that manner himself), he did not give it much thought, only for the loss of his wife, the one woman whose existence which actually mattered to him…

"It's only you and me now," he said to his son, sighing. She had been so beautiful, so fiery… He would miss her, he knew it, but his heart, the pain of heartbreak was replaced with something more real, and more physical. Looking down, he found his own general's sword piercing his chest, and he looked at his son. She was right… He would not be able to control the child… It would be a matter of time before that…monster… destroys everything he had destroyed to gain…

There was no look of remorse upon his son's face, only malice, and yearning for the power he would have… "No, father, it's only me…"

Haldir of Lorien awoke in the middle of the night, shocked by what he had seen. In his dreams, he had seen only fire, only power and war. He had thought that he had been transported into a strange part in Middle Earth, but he knew that he was not. He looked at the dark night before him, and he remembered the tyrant, he remembered the children that the tyrant had killed, the women he had broken to become his own magical protectors… and the worse thing was that the tyrant had his face…

He needed to clear his head. Rising from his bed, he threw on his clothes, and took his sword. He went into the borders of the city, and he started to walk, letting his feet guide him. It was a cool spring night, where the leaves of Lorien were clothed in gold, the boughs of the Mallorn trees silver… The grass was green, and the stars was shining upon him, most of all Earendil…

Was he given that vision from his past, his future? He was the Marchwarden of Lorien, and although he had tried to deny it, he was among last hope of the Elven military, no matter how miniscule they had become, apart from Prince Legolas of the Woodland Realm, and Glorfindel of Imladris… People bowed to him, from the denizens of Caras Galadhon to the small villages outside the Golden Wood populated by Men…

Perhaps it had been a long time since he had emerged from his talan, when he found himself near the glade of Galadriel's mirror. Out of curiosity, he looked inside, and found once again the vision, the dream that he had just seen: The pain that he had seen, and that pain that he had caused, it wrenched his heart… He was unable to look anymore, and averted his eyes.

And there he saw her.

He had seen her in his vision, a being beautiful and powerful, shrouded with dark hair, and yet, a being of the light. She was dressed in a gown, red, made of simple material, but yet, it reminded her of blood, and of fire. She was an elleth now, but her features had not changed. Still she was tall, still she was strong… There was a sense of realization in her eyes, and at once, he knew that she saw what he had seen twice that night itself…

"Rahl…" she murmured, looking at him in disbelief. He had not heard of that name before, but somehow, he felt that it had belonged to him. And he knew hers… As the distance between them were closed by their approach towards each other, he found her name, her name in those visions…

"Kahlan…"

She trembled slightly when he had reached out to touch her flawless face with his fingers lightly. "Lord Marchwarden…" she added, noting the change within him. He had hair of gold now, but still his brow remained dark. His deep blue eyes, they were the same, and but he was taller now, built for a bow and a sword…

"Man enath lle?" he asked, in the tongue of Sindarin. If what they had seen had been their past. He would reconcile with her, with what they had in the future.

A smile crossed her beautiful features. "Morwen…" she replied. A fitting name for her, a name for a dark beauty in the heart of Lorien… She no longer feared him. In fact, she had yearned for his touch once more. He held her in his arms, and murmured words of apology. "The future belongs to us, Haldir, let us forget the past…"

With that said, they walked hand in hand, back into Caras Galadhon, and shaped a future that they would fight together, a future that they would remember, rising from the ashes of their own bloody past…

HAN: I was inspired to write this when I came across Legend of the Seeker episodes in Youtube. I watched most of the episodes and took an instant liking to the oh-so hot villian, Darken Rahl, and began to Google the series. When I found out that the actor of Rahl and Haldir is one and the same (Craig Parker), this idea popped in my head, and hence, this fic! I hope you like it!