A/N: Hello. Let me start by saying that I have never written for LOTR before, and I'm not exactly sure what I'm doing (that's no surprise, I never know what I'm doing). This was just an idea I toyed around with in my head for awhile and decided to write it down. So far, it's taking up eight and a half full (as in, front and back) pages in my notebook. It's movie-verse, it's for fun, and that's that.
I was debating whether or not to cut out all the Elvish, but I put in a lot of time looking up translations and putting conversations together, so I decided to keep it in. Shorter phrases will be translated at the end, but conversations will be bolded in English alongside the Elvish. If I could not find translations for a conversation, know that entire sentences in italics are spoken in Elvish. And before anyone starts flaming me about my poor use of the Elvish language: I realize that I have used both Sindarin and Quenya. Deal with it. =) Sorry for confusion.
Disclaimer: I own nothing. Book belongs to J.R.R. Tolkein, movie belongs to Peter Jackson and New Line. If I'd owned either one, Haldir would appear in more books, and Legolas would speak more in the movies. They make me swoon haha
Without further ado, here we go...
All was quiet as a soft breeze wove its way through the tall trees of Lothlórien. The sun shone brightly in the sky and elflings played happily in the cool grass. A lone elf and member of the Galadhrim was expertly perched on a high tree branch, keeping watch over the endless forest. Her light brown hair was pulled back into a braid close to her head, so it would keep away from her face. The longbow that had once belonged to her oldest brother Amrod was firmly in her grasp should its use be warranted quickly.
Without removing her eyes from her assigned sector, she called out, "Mae govannen, heruamin! Please, join me if you wish."
"And here I thought I had finally managed to sneak up on you, Silmarwen Tinehtelë." the blonde elf chuckled as he climbed to her position with ease.
"Uuma dela, Haldir," she replied, "Not many are able."
The ellon nodded and turned his gaze toward the wood as well. After a few moments, Silmarwen spoke again.
"To what do I owe the pleasure of an on-duty visit from the Marchwarden of Lothlórien this afternoon?"
"Must you call me that?" Haldir wrinkled his nose, "We have known each other since we were mere elflings. You are my best friend, call me by my name."
The elleth laughed lightly. "I only jest, mellon nin, you know this. Have you come seeking counsel about a certain beautiful elleth you cannot seem to speak two words to? She is my cousin, you know. I could talk to her for you."
"It is not about Inwë this time, but I shall keep that offer in mind," her friend retorted as his ears tinted red. "I came because we have become aware of a group of strangers traveling through our woods toward Caras Galadhon. I would like you to assist us as we find out what exactly it is they are doing. Calanon is prepared to take over your sector."
Silmarwen looked at him, obviously intrigued. Haldir knew her curiosity would sway her into agreeing. He wanted her to come along for her strong ability to distinguish honesty from deception of others, and was glad when she hopped to the ground, landing gracefully. He soon followed suit and led her to another area of the forest.
"Manen lyg?" she asked as they walked briskly.
"We counted eight. There is a dwarf with them."
Silmarwen sighed. "Fantastic."
The pair quieted as they approached Orophin, Rúmil, and a few more of he Galadhrim. Haldir signaled for his brothers to follow him while Silmarwen took the others on the opposite side. Soon they had surrounded the strangers and waited for the right moment to make themselves known. The dwarf was speaking loudly when Haldir made his move.
"I have the eyes of a hawk and the ears of a fox-" he puffed, but stopped abruptly as several bows held deadly arrows mere inches from his head. The rest of the group halted with him, one drawing his own bow in defense.
"The dwarf breathes so loud we could have shot him in the dark," the Marchwarden spoke smoothly, earning a glare from the mountain dweller.
Silmarwen immediately recognized the woodland elf who had raised his bow against them; one she had not seen in nearly a century. "Mae govannen, Legolas Thranduilion," she breathed in happy disbelief.
There was a spark in his eyes at the sight of her and he smiled slightly before looking to Haldir. "Govannas vîn qwennen le, Haldir o Lórien." Our Fellowship stands in your debt, Haldir of Lórien.
Haldir nodded once and turned to one of the men of the party, "A Aragorn in Dúnedain, istannen le ammen." Aragorn of Dúnedain, you are known to us.
"Haldir o Lórien. Henio aníron, boe ammen I dulu lîn. Boe ammen veriad lîn," the ranger replied, bowing his head. Haldir of Lórien. We come here for help. We need your protection.
The ranking elf looked to the remaining members of the group, assessing each of them. Two men, an elf, a dwarf, and four hobbits. One halfling with curly dark brown hair caught his attention in particular. Even from yards away he could feel the evil this little one carried. Something had to be done; such evil should not have come to the Golden Wood.
"You bring great evil with you," he spoke urgently, "You can go no further."
He quickly strode away from the group, followed closely by Aragorn who began speaking frantically in Elvish, trying to change the Marchwarden's mind. The sun had begun to give way to the moon as the two conversed quietly yet firmly. Silmarwen had observed all with silent curiosity, noticing Haldir's reaction to the most weary-looking Shireling. Once she directed her gaze to him, she too felt a thick blanket of dread and foreboding. She could not dwell on it for long; an elf she had not laid eyes on in some time was making his way to her. She smiled and met him with a warm embrace.
"Tenn' oio cenelya alassë," he said softly. Ever is your sight a joy.
"Lúmë anta avánië, Legolas." It has been too long, Legolas.
The blonde bowman nodded. "Ist nîn be nau gîn. Órenya linda tyë-cenien, Silmarwen. Vanesselya síla tenna haiya." I agree. My heart sings to see you, Silmarwen. Your beauty shines far.
The elleth felt a slight heat rise and flow through her cheeks as she ducked her head, smiling. "Hannon le. Ma caril sinomë? Ma carnë len?" Thank you. What are you doing here? What happened to you?
Legolas did not get the chance to answer her as Haldir turned to the group and ordered, "Follow me."
Haldir and his brothers led the group through the forest and into the night. Silmarwen took her place near the front with her Marchwarden, her sharp eyes watchful for any unwelcome guests. The trek passed in silence until the rising sun spurred the birds into their morning songs. It was then that the most wondrous city of Lothlórien came into view. "Caras Galadhon," Haldir announced proudly, "The heart of Elvendom on earth. Realm of the Lord Celeborn and of Galadriel, Lady of Light."
Silmarwen watched the wonder and amazement grow on the faces of the four young hobbits and smiled widely. She had no doubt that the had most likely never seen such a sight before. She knew little of halflings, but knew that they were content creatures, most of them never leaving the Shire their entire lives. It brought back to her mind the first times she had seen Imladris and Mirkwood. Both vastly different from her home, and from each other, but both absolutely magnificent. Her thoughts were interrupted by a small, almost sheepish voice.
"Em, excuse me, um..."
She looked down at the nervous hobbit with curly light hair. "My name is Silmarwen Tinehtelë, Master Hobbit," she supplied kindly, "You may call me Silmarwen."
"I'm Peregrin Took properly, but most folk just call me Pippin."
He fidgeted for a moment before speaking again. "Is it...is it alright if I ask a question?"
She grinned at him. "Of course, Peregrin Took."
The hobbit blushed at the beautiful elf saying his full name. "Oh, em...how much longer until we can stop walking?"
Silmarwen laughed melodiously at his innocent question. She had long been used to walking, marching, and even running extremely long distances often, but realized that Pippin, in all likelihood, was not. "The city is not very much farther, my young friend. We should be arriving sometime between late afternoon and mid-evening. Once we arrive, the hike will not seem as long, I assure you."
She let out another soft chuckle when his shoulders sagged and he nodded dejectedly. She patted his head comfortingly before he trudged back over to his friends. The now vacant space beside her was soon filled again by none other than Legolas.
"The little ones are not accustomed to this amount of travel. These past few days have been difficult for us all," he whispered, a sad glint in his eyes.
The elleth carefully inspected her friend's face. Given the time to really see him, he seemed weary and had dirt smudged on his cheeks and forehead. Concern for him filled her heart. "Are you alright?"she asked.
Legolas stared off into the distance, contemplating what to say. He sighed, "The past days have been rough."
Silmarwen placed a gentle hand on his shoulder, his own soon covering it. He looked at her and forced a smile onto his face. "It does me much good to see you," he said, "I do hope all has been well with you. How is your family? I had heard young Rilien was finally able to follow his siblings into the service of Galadriel."
At the mention of her youngest brother, Silmarwen felt an ache in her heart. Indeed, he had joined her, their brothers, and their father. "Both he and Amrod have departed this world to the Halls of Mandos. They were cut down by ambushing orcs not two summers ago."
Sadness again showed on the prince's face at the news of the loss of his friends. "Hiro hyn hîdh ab 'wanath. I am sorry. What of the rest of your kin?"
Silmarwen focused on the designs etched into her bow as they continued walking. She knew every inch of these woods by heart; she had no need to watch where she was going. "Little Merenwen has lately begun learning the ways of healing, like my mother. Rimedur and Arandur are stationed on the opposite border of the forest. Ada still makes the most beautiful bows and swords in the realm."
Legolas nodded and watched his feet. They continued on in a comfortable silence. The two elves had known each other for centuries; they did not feel the need to fill the air with constant speech. They were content in just knowing the other was there.
The Fellowship and their escorts finally entered the city during the evening, greeted by Lord Celeborn and Lady Galadriel.
The Lady focused her gaze on Frodo as Celeborn addressed the group as a whole. "The Enemy knows you have entered here. What hope you had in secrecy is now gone," he spoke regally as he assessed the many present, "Eight there are here, yet nine there were set out from Rivendell. Tell me, where is Gandalf? For I much desire to speak with him. I can no longer see him from afar."
None spoke, but lowered their heads at the painful memory. The Lord and Lady sensed the change and looked to each member of the Fellowship. Silmarwen could almost smell the grief in the air and followed her Lady's gaze. Galadriel's eyes widened as she looked into Aragorn's. Sorrow filled her as she voiced his unspoken answer aloud, "Gandalf the Grey did not pass the borders of this land. He has fallen into shadow."
Legolas raised his head slowly. "He was taken by both shadow and flame: a Balrog of Morgoth," he replied, "For we went needlessly into the net of Moria."
Silmarwen turned away, in shock, and walked a few paces, taking her attention completely away from what else was being discussed. As she leaned against the nearest tree she could vaguely discern Lady Galadriel telling the Fellowship that they would spend the night in Lórien. Soon she felt a strong hand on her shoulder. She didn't need to look to know who it was.
"Haldir," she whispered.
"You are not alone, mellon nin," he told her, "We all weep for Mithrandir.
The brown-haired elf nodded and placed her hand over his, giving a gentle squeeze. He offered her a small smile before turning away and leading the Fellowship to where they would camp that night. Legolas followed, but not before he caught Silmarwen's eye. They shared a look, one they seemed to share almost every time their paths crossed, and in a blink the prince was jogging after his friends.
Silmarwen remained in her place and quickly found herself becoming lost in thought. Legolas had ample opportunity to inform her of the events that had taken place in the darkness of Moria, yet he had not spoken a word of it. Not to mention she had been aware that a fellowship had set out from Rivendell to destroy the Ring of Power, but hadn't known he was part of it until she'd held her bow to him the previous night.
'Peace, child,' she heard Lady Galadriel's soft voice in her head, 'He did not speak because it pains him much to do so, not because he distrusts you.'
Silmarwen turned and bowed, her eyes closed. Part of her knew her Lady was right, but she had always been a bit stubborn.
'Legolas Thranduilion cares a great deal for you, Silmarwen. Being in your presence brings him peace,' Galadriel's voice sounded in her mind again. The two held each other's steady gaze, strong blue eyes meeting weary green. 'As I know you care greatly for him in return, do you not?'
Silmarwen stood unblinking for a moment before answering aloud. "Yes, my Lady. I believe I do."
The Lady of Lothlórien smiled at her charge and strode closer to her, placing a gentle finger beneath her chin. "Go and speak with him, child," she said, "For I know the young Prince of Mirkwood is filled with grief and you, Silmarwen Tinehtelë, were given the gift of brightening burdened spirits."
"Hannon le, Lady Galadriel," she bowed and took her leave, sadness for Mithrandir still in the forefront of her mind.
Walking gently through the glowing trees to where she knew the Fellowship was camped, she heard the voices of many elves joined in song. She placed a hand over her heart in respect as she heard the voice of the elf she was searching for. "A lament for Gandalf," he said, glancing high in the trees around them.
"What do they say about him?" the roundest of the halflings asked quietly.
"I have not the heart to tell you," Legolas answered him, then noticed Silmarwen watching them, "For me the grief is still too near."
He placed down the silver pitcher he had been carrying and went after her. As he neared, she held out a slender hand to him, which he gladly took in his own. The two elves made their way slowly into the deep of the peaceful city. Frodo had been watching them all the while with intrigue and he turned to Aragorn.
"Strider?" he inquired, "Who is the elf that Legolas has spent so much time with?
Aragorn looked up from sharpening his blades. "Her name is Silmarwen," he answered softly, "She is among the most trusted and most skilled of the Galadhrim."
"Why do they spend so long talking?"
"They have not been in the other's company for nearly one hundred years. They have missed each other greatly." Aragorn watched his friends in the distance.
"She is beautiful," Frodo whispered.
The ranger nodded mutely. "Yes. Yes, she is."
A few moments passed before the young hobbit broke the silence again. "Do they love each other?"
Aragorn thought to himself before replying, "I believe they do, though they have not said it."
Frodo nodded and yawned dramatically. He laid down on his sleeping mat and closed his eyes, trying to make himself comfortable. He thought he heard Aragorn bid him good night but sheer exhaustion suddenly caught up to him and pulled him into a peaceful, dreamless sleep. Isildur's heir returned his gaze to his elven friends. Legolas had offered Silmarwen his arm as they walked and she had laid her head on his strong shoulder.
"Peace, my friends," the man whispered into the air before turning onto his own bedroll and welcoming glorious sleep and much needed rest.
The next morning the Fellowship was given supplies they would need for the remainder of their journey; food, water, some Elvish medicines. Lady Galadriel also took the time to give each individual member a gift fitted just for them. It wasn't until the group was preparing to leave in the boats given to them by the Lord and Lady that Silmarwen had the chance to even lay eyes on Legolas, let alone speak with him. She had been busy planning the security and defense of Lothlórien in the likelihood that the foul orcs and goblins from Moria tried to track and follow the Ringbearer into the Golden Wood. The woodland elf had been caught up in preparations for the group's departure.
Legolas didn't want to leave without at least getting to say goodbye to his beloved Silmarwen. He scanned the riverbank but did not see her anywhere. He was beginning to worry that time would run out when he caught a glimpse of her beautiful brown hair. She and Haldir hurriedly made their way down to the banks, making him smile.
"Legolas!" she called to him as she closed the last few feet between them, followed by Haldir. The Marchwarden nodded his head toward the other blonde.
"May the Valar go with you on your journey, my friend," he said, "I am sure we shall meet again soon."
The ellons clasped each other's forearms firmly in a farewell before Haldir made his way over to where Aragorn was helping to load the hobbits into boats. Once he was gone, Silmarwen and Legolas smiled at each other and joined hands.
"Do not let a century pass before I see you again," the elleth spoke, trying to reign her emotions in.
"I would not dream of it," the blonde elf replied, "Silmarwen...what we spoke about last night, I meant every word of it."
She looked down at the still water for a moment and then back up into his eyes. "As did I."
The simply stood together for awhile, losing track of time until Aragorn called for Legolas. They needed to be leaving soon. Legolas nodded to his longtime friend before turning back to Silmarwen. He placed a hand on her soft cheek, feeling her hand come up to rest on his forearm.
"Please be careful and safe," she whispered, "May the grace of the Valar protect you."
"May it be with you as well," he replied, bringing their foreheads together, "N'i lû ir a-goveninc." Until we meet again.
"Galo Anor erin râd gîn, Legolas." May the sun shine upon your path, Legolas.
He leaned in and kissed her gently before letting her go and settling himself in one of the white boats with the dwarf, Gimli. The Fellowship set off down the river, many of the elves of Lórien watching them leave.
"Namárië," Silmarwen said quietly, even though she knew none of them would hear her. As she stared after them, Haldir returned to stand beside her. He did not speak; just being there for her was a comfort. Since her older brother Amrod had died, Haldir had stepped in and been a tremendous support for her. They had always been close friends but they had grown even more so since the tragic event that had taken so many immortal lives. None could ever replace Amrod, but she had gained another brother.
"He is highly skilled, gwathel nin," Haldir told her, "He will be alright."
The elleth nodded, still silent. She turned her head to look at him. "He loves me," she said.
She received a smirk in return. "I thought so. If the way the pair of you have looked at each other for the past few hundred years was not evidence enough, that parting kiss you shared was."
The brown-haired elf blushed slightly and ducked her head, earning a hearty laugh from Haldir. "Come," he said, "Let us return to the borders of the woods. The soldiers of the Enemy do not stop because we might."
After glancing down theriver one last time, Silmarwen turned and followed him, the two making their way back to the positions they had occupied not but a few days before.
The dup came to a halt at the base of the large tree from which Silmarwen most often kept her watch. Before they parted to go their separate ways, they caught each other in a warm embrace. "Hannon le, gwador nin," the elleth spoke, "For everything."
The Marchwarden smiled. "Always," he replied, "I shall see you tomorrow night."
Silmarwen nodded in agreement and began nimbly climbing the tall tree. When she reached her station she turned and yelled after Haldir's shrinking figure. "Try not to shoot yourself in the foot with your own arrow, mellon nin!"
"That happened only once, very long ago!" he spun around, continuing to walk backwards, and yelled back to the laughing elleth, "And you know it was Rúmil's fault, not my own!"
Glossary:
Mae govannen - Well met
heruamin - my lord
Uuma dela - Don't worry
mellon nin - my friend
Manen lyg? - How many?
Hiro hyn hîdh ab 'wanath. - May they find peace after death.
Hannon le - Thank you
Namárië - Farewell
gwathel nin - my sworn sister
gwador nin - my sworn brother