Disclaimer: I own none of the following character or settings. All of them belong to the Tolkien estate.
Author's Note: The title's suckly, I know, but the story is something different from anything I've ever seen before. 1-shot, so don't ask for more chapters, please. R&R!
An Unsung Love
By Bressa W.
Arwen sighed and sat down on the bench in the beautiful and mysterious Lothlórien, waiting to speak to her grandmother, Galadriel. She was depressed, mostly because the Fellowship had recently departed from Rivendell. She'd fled on the wings of Gwaihir the Windlord to the safety of the wood, so Galadriel might help her sort her feelings. The great, silvery doors that led to her private parlour opened and out came…Haldir, one of her grandmother's greatest Elf-warriors. He looked at her, his eyes lingering a bit too long, and he frowned. He approached her and bowed.
"M'lady," he said, seriously, "May I sit with you?"
Arwen wasn't really in the mood for company, but she nodded, anyways. "Please do."
Haldir sat down and frowned deeper when he saw how sad she was. "Is it the Man?" he asked intuitively.
"How did you…"
"Know? You are not that difficult to read, Arwen. You wear your sorrow openly." He smiled warmly. "That is one thing I have always loved about you."
Arwen sighed again. "Haldir, we decided long ago not to pursue involvement between us."
"Yet it has not stopped my heart from loving you." He was silent for a while, pensive. Then, he said, "I would never make you this sad, Arwen. I would hold you when you needed to be held, I would be real for you, not give you idle dreams."
"Our dreams are none of your concern, Haldir," Arwen said sternly. She meant to end the conversation there, but Haldir did not.
"And so my dreams are but a nuisance to you? Tell me, have you ever once considered that Aragorn is the not the only one who dreams of you? There are many Elves who love you, and many who feel that you deserve better than the Mortal." He fell silent once again, thinking of how to say the things he needed to say. "Yet even the others do not see you as I do. You are a treasure, Arwen, a jewel, and Aragorn picks you up at will, admires you, then sets you back upon the shelf to gather dust and tarnish. I would keep you at my hand, always admire the shine of your facets, always heed the wisdom that lies beneath the beauty. You deserve to be with me, not with him. Please, give me a chance."
Arwen stood up and scowled. "I've heard enough," she said angrily. "If you mean to console me, you do so poorly, for your words only confirm what I knew long ago."
"What is that?"
"That you care not for me, only for my appearance and how it would look to wear the Evening at your side. Tell me, Haldir, have you ever once wondered or considered what I want? And yes, at one time, Haldir, you were what I wanted. But I was young then, and I did not truly understand how deep love was and how it could make you feel. What I felt then was not love, but what I feel for Aragorn is the purest love there is. Aragorn may not be around much now, but that will change. Our dreams are not idle, they are our hope, they are our rock. The only one you truly love, Haldir of Lórien, is yourself." She smiled. "And I'd hate to come between you."
She strode into the parlour and left him in shock.
End note: Whatcha think? Was it different? Did it make sense? Did you loo-ver it, or hate it? However you feel, I'd appreciate it if you put it in your review of An Unsung Love, which I know you'll submit because I'm naïve like that.