Disclaimer: I don't own Haldir or Aragorn. But Peter Jackson doesn't either, and he killed him! : | so there you go.
Just some musing...I might continue, I might not. Who knows. But Nice comments are loved, so comment away! Reviews are nice....But i take criticism very badly, as spacebar discovered. But spacebar is right mostly, my grammar was, is and probably will remain terrible. But at the time, I was just posting it to share with friends...
Spacebar, you sound strangely familiar. Much like one of my friends, who seems to have a morbid obsession with scalpels and torture methods....errr...gildy?!
*Raises eyebrow at arynetrek* What's wrong with my elvish? The gray company helped me with it. Admittedly, my accent has not improved as of yet, but your reading, not listing.
Then you nice people happened! And so, I'm re-posting it. But I am also busy with my other stories...
~~~(*)~~~
Aranel watched in horror, as Haldir collapsed, onto his knees.
"Melamin!" She cried out, and swung the heavy sword at the orc she was fighting, rage building in her hands, her arms, her body, all pity for her ruined kin gone, and with a swing, disemboweled the orc. "Haldir!"
Aragorn reached him as she did, and she took his hand in hers, pressing it to her cheek. He gazed at Aragorn, who took him in his arms, and she felt a hot flush of anger, at the handsome man holding her lover. Haldir's eyes glazed over, his eyes locked in the ranger's, ignoring the elf at his feet. Aranel cried out all her grief, her pity, and rage in one scream, and clung around his waist.
The noises of battle became muffled and unimportant, the orcs behind her ignored, and the young she-elf clung to the Marchwanden of Lothlorien. Strong arms grabbed at her, pulling her up, with the limp body of Haldir still in her iron-grip.
In a daze, she stared at his face, as she was pushed and pulled through doors, into a cave where caring arms set her down in a corner, and left her there, with her dead lover cooling against her hot sweaty skin. And it was there, her broken heart graciosity let her fall into a deep elvish sleep, letting her dreams led her away from her surroundings.
~~~(*)~~~
Four months before:
Haldir watched the long awaited caravan of elves approach the woods of Lothlorien. Mirkwood elves, a small portion of the
nobles. Lords and Ladies. Small, in the woodland realm, meaning fifty Ladies or Lords. He whistled to his brothers, Rumil and Orphion, and they nodded from their lookouts, and whistled to their commands.
With quick, precise jumps, Haldir leapt from branch to branch, until he came to the clearing where he was to meet the party from Mirkwood.
The party came up him, and giving the darkling forest a blue haze, from their torches. The head rider came up to him, and he lowered his head in respect.
"Mae govannen." ~Well Met~ He touched above his heart, and heard a soft voice reply.
"Elen sila lumenn omentilmo." ~A star shines on the hour of our meeting~ The soft, yet powerful female voice answered, and he looked up in surprise.
A blonde she-elf gave him a amused look, at his surprise.
"Mankoi ikotane fios vanimaer?" ~Why so surprised fair one?~ She whispered, and he flushed.
Haldir stood up tall, and called to the party. "Khila amin." ~Follow me.~
He took them into the woods, still a little shocked. His thoughts dominated his mind, as they wandered through Lorion. 'A women! Rare for a woman to lead!'
He snuck a glance at the she-elf, riding tall, and proud upon a steed of silver, who's silky coat glimmered with the soft lights of the elf lanterns. She was shorter than most elvish ladies, but only then did he notice, so well did she carry herself. Her hair was long, and dark yellow, as was the fashion of wood elves, her eyes light and guarded.
She caught his eyes, and gave him a small smile. One, that reminded him of someone...Prince Legolas. He smiled, at his foolishness. Most wood elves had her look. Noblity disliked leaving their homes.
~~~~~~**(*)**~~~~~~
The fifty or so guests, and servants were given appropriate quarters, to their status, the she-elf at the very top of the 'status' list. But by now, Haldir was getting used to the treatment given to her, first the shock of finding a female leading, followed by Lady Galadrial herself coming to greet the she-elf and her family, with servents carrying food on platters for almost every person ariving. That in itself was a shock to Haldir, usually she would not greet them for a few days, untill she was ready.
And then, he discovered her name, and the day's surprises all vanished with the new shock. Her name was Aranel. 'Princess' She was Legolas's sister.
But for now, Haldir had no time to talk with the princess. His duties called.
Just some musing...I might continue, I might not. Who knows. But Nice comments are loved, so comment away! Reviews are nice....But i take criticism very badly, as spacebar discovered. But spacebar is right mostly, my grammar was, is and probably will remain terrible. But at the time, I was just posting it to share with friends...
Spacebar, you sound strangely familiar. Much like one of my friends, who seems to have a morbid obsession with scalpels and torture methods....errr...gildy?!
*Raises eyebrow at arynetrek* What's wrong with my elvish? The gray company helped me with it. Admittedly, my accent has not improved as of yet, but your reading, not listing.
Then you nice people happened! And so, I'm re-posting it. But I am also busy with my other stories...
~~~(*)~~~
Aranel watched in horror, as Haldir collapsed, onto his knees.
"Melamin!" She cried out, and swung the heavy sword at the orc she was fighting, rage building in her hands, her arms, her body, all pity for her ruined kin gone, and with a swing, disemboweled the orc. "Haldir!"
Aragorn reached him as she did, and she took his hand in hers, pressing it to her cheek. He gazed at Aragorn, who took him in his arms, and she felt a hot flush of anger, at the handsome man holding her lover. Haldir's eyes glazed over, his eyes locked in the ranger's, ignoring the elf at his feet. Aranel cried out all her grief, her pity, and rage in one scream, and clung around his waist.
The noises of battle became muffled and unimportant, the orcs behind her ignored, and the young she-elf clung to the Marchwanden of Lothlorien. Strong arms grabbed at her, pulling her up, with the limp body of Haldir still in her iron-grip.
In a daze, she stared at his face, as she was pushed and pulled through doors, into a cave where caring arms set her down in a corner, and left her there, with her dead lover cooling against her hot sweaty skin. And it was there, her broken heart graciosity let her fall into a deep elvish sleep, letting her dreams led her away from her surroundings.
~~~(*)~~~
Four months before:
Haldir watched the long awaited caravan of elves approach the woods of Lothlorien. Mirkwood elves, a small portion of the
nobles. Lords and Ladies. Small, in the woodland realm, meaning fifty Ladies or Lords. He whistled to his brothers, Rumil and Orphion, and they nodded from their lookouts, and whistled to their commands.
With quick, precise jumps, Haldir leapt from branch to branch, until he came to the clearing where he was to meet the party from Mirkwood.
The party came up him, and giving the darkling forest a blue haze, from their torches. The head rider came up to him, and he lowered his head in respect.
"Mae govannen." ~Well Met~ He touched above his heart, and heard a soft voice reply.
"Elen sila lumenn omentilmo." ~A star shines on the hour of our meeting~ The soft, yet powerful female voice answered, and he looked up in surprise.
A blonde she-elf gave him a amused look, at his surprise.
"Mankoi ikotane fios vanimaer?" ~Why so surprised fair one?~ She whispered, and he flushed.
Haldir stood up tall, and called to the party. "Khila amin." ~Follow me.~
He took them into the woods, still a little shocked. His thoughts dominated his mind, as they wandered through Lorion. 'A women! Rare for a woman to lead!'
He snuck a glance at the she-elf, riding tall, and proud upon a steed of silver, who's silky coat glimmered with the soft lights of the elf lanterns. She was shorter than most elvish ladies, but only then did he notice, so well did she carry herself. Her hair was long, and dark yellow, as was the fashion of wood elves, her eyes light and guarded.
She caught his eyes, and gave him a small smile. One, that reminded him of someone...Prince Legolas. He smiled, at his foolishness. Most wood elves had her look. Noblity disliked leaving their homes.
~~~~~~**(*)**~~~~~~
The fifty or so guests, and servants were given appropriate quarters, to their status, the she-elf at the very top of the 'status' list. But by now, Haldir was getting used to the treatment given to her, first the shock of finding a female leading, followed by Lady Galadrial herself coming to greet the she-elf and her family, with servents carrying food on platters for almost every person ariving. That in itself was a shock to Haldir, usually she would not greet them for a few days, untill she was ready.
And then, he discovered her name, and the day's surprises all vanished with the new shock. Her name was Aranel. 'Princess' She was Legolas's sister.
But for now, Haldir had no time to talk with the princess. His duties called.