Mae go'vannen, and welcome to the newest GreenScholar Tales story! We now move from Mirkwood to the Golden Wood, to follow the life of one of the most simultaneously popular and unexplored characters I know; Haldir.
I hope you will enjoy this tale as much as you enjoyed 'Starting Anew' and 'The Last Elf-Queen of Arda'. You can also find me on Facebook at 'GreenScholar Tales' if you would like to see more from me!
Without further ado...enjoy!
There is no sound more beautiful in all the world than the laughter of children. And even most beautiful among the laughter of all the children of Middle-Earth was that of elflings. Such music filled the Golden Wood of Lothlórien on a fair spring morning of the Third Age. The graceful, monolithic mallorn trees of Lórien became a playground to the youngest Firstborn of Eru as daylight rose. Bare little feet raced up and down the spiralling staircases that wound about their trunks, and childish voices called out to one another. As if delighting in the fun of their elven charges, the mallorn trees themselves let out the occasional creak and groan of wood to join in the chorus.
"Haldir, wait for me!"
Rúmil chased after his elder brothers on short, untested legs. The youngest of three often lagged somewhat behind in their play, not being as quick or confident as his playmates as they scampered from talan to talan like squirrels.
Pausing halfway across a narrow walkway that connected to such tree-top platforms, Haldir looked back over his shoulder. As the oldest, he often felt the most responsibility to watch out for Rúmil. His grey eyes large and his feet still firmly planted on the wooden floor of the talan, Rúmil stood eyeing the rope bridge which they were to cross anxiously. Orophin meanwhile scampered past to join the two elleths on the far talan.
"Come now Rúmil, don't be fearful! The bridge is completely safe, you see?" Haldir grasped the rope railing on either side and jumped up and down a few times on the spot. The narrow bridge swayed only slightly; elves did not create anything shoddily or in haste. "Adar could carry Naneth across in his arms and never worry about falling."
"I'm not frightened..." Rúmil insisted, but the quiver in his chin said otherwise. Most elves of Lothlórien traversed their lofty city without so much as a second thought. Young Rúmil did not seem to be taking to heights quite as well as Haldir and Orophin had done so in their turns.
"Hurry now Rúmil, or we'll miss them!" Laurelin, one of the two elleths in their group called out. Short for an elf child of two-and-fifty years, Laurelin's golden blonde hair and cherubic face was sharply contrasted by her mischievous nature. It was she who had suggested this morning's escapade.
Orophin plunked himself down on the edge of the talan, letting his lengthening legs dangle in mid-air. The drop below would have dizzied anyone, save the elves who made the city of Caras Galadhon their home. "Haldir, couldn't you carry him like you did yesterday?" That, Haldir thought, was easy for Orophin to say. Rúmil was growing further out of baby-hood every day, and likewise growing in size.
"It's alright Rúmil, I promise you are in no danger of falling." Celebrían, the daughter of the Lord Celeborn and Lady Galadriel, the final member of their group of five, spoke up. Silver hair escaping from its pretty braiding in several places and her slipper laces coming undone, Celebrían looked less like a member of the nobility and more like any other child at play in Middle-Earth that morning. She was the only person besides Haldir who could reassure Rúmil when he was frightened.
Rúmil looked doubtful, his chubby fingers still clutching at the railing on the edge of the talan. "But what if a wind blows in and shakes the bridge?" He asked nervously.
"At this rate we will surely miss them..." Laurelin murmured under her breath, crossing her arms. Orophin likewise started swinging his legs impatiently. Haldir was anxious to get a move on too, but knew that their father and mother would be mightily upset if they left Rúmil behind...again.
"I am coming, Rúmil." Haldir sighed as he turned around and headed back the way he had come across the rope bridge. The leaves overhead glowed so brightly as the rising sun shone through them that for a moment the glare almost hurt. Shielding his sharp eyes with a raised hand, Haldir made his way to stand on the bridge in front of Rúmil. "Come on. You can hold onto my belt, and I will lead the way."
Looking up at his eldest brother with a gaze full of relief and adoration, Rúmil nodded. "Alright. You promise its safe?"
"I promise. Come."
With Rúmil clinging tight to the back of his belt, Haldir made the crossing between talans a second time. Orophin jumped to his feet as soon as they arrived.
"You shouldn't be frightened, Rúmil." The middle child declared, tugging on one of his pale braids as he often did when he was impatient. "No one has ever fallen from the mallorn trees; not ever. You would have to be as lead-footed as a human to be at all unsafe."
"Orophin don't scold him." Celebrían interrupted, letting Rúmil clutch at her hand now that he was safely on the talan. "Even Adar once told me that he found living in the forest canopy unnerving for the first few months after he and Naneth came here from Doriath."
"Your father was afraid of heights?" asked Rúmil, his enormous, thickly lashed eyes wide with disbelief. He could get his way more often than naught with eyelashes like that, especially when it came to older relatives.
"Lord Celeborn surely would never be afraid." Laurelin broke in, pointing with emphasized urgency toward a spiralling staircase. "Now hurry, we are going to be late!"
Celebrían bent down just a bit to whisper in Rúmil's pointed ear. "Yes, he truly was. He told me so." Haldir smiled and reached out to take his youngest brother's other hand.
"Laurelin is right, we should hurry. We all agreed we wanted to see the Galadrhim at their morning training."
The five elflings raced round and round, down the staircase as it snaked it way around the trunk of the mallorn. So enormous was the tree that the staircase could extend a full fifty steps with each turn downward. By the time they reached the forest floor, they were out of breath. Half of that was from excitement though, and the children raced through the Golden Wood in the direction of the barracks.
The sound of ringing steel pricked at their sensitive ears as they drew closer. Orophin and Laurelin were the fastest runners, and Haldir, Celebríanand Rúmil followed their backs along the broad footpaths. A pair of rabbits looked up from their breakfast of dandelions to watch the elflings as they bounded past. Again Rúmil started to fall behind, and Haldir boosted him up on his back. It made keeping up with Celebrían and the others harder, but Rúmil's little legs just couldn't carry him fast enough to match the older elves yet.
When they reached the edge of Lórien's training grounds, the five of them found a smaller tree and scrambled up into it. They took care not to scrape the smooth bark though; every elf in the Golden Wood grew up with a deep love and respect for the trees of their homeland. Orophin clambered up as high as he could, even risking a thinner, more precarious perch. Laurelin and Celebrían situated themselves in a crook of one of the larger branches that formed a natural seat. Haldir meanwhile boosted Rúmil up first before pulling himself up into the tree. From there though, they all had a fine view of the sight in the barracks yard.
The Galadhrim warriors of Lothlórien were out, going through their practice routines as they did every morning at day-break. They did not wear their shining armor, nor their polished helms. Such gear was for war, and had not been put to use for centuries. Instead the Galadhrim wore their usual grey tunic and cloaks with dark woolen hose. Their weapons were very real though. They worked in pairs, sometimes triads, sparring together through choreographed forms that were executed with absolute precision and liquid grace.
"Look at that, did you see that?!" Orophin whisper-called down to them, pointing excitedly to one Galadhrim who had just caught two blades and turned them with an angled spin of their own sword.
The five of them spent a pleasant hour perched in that tree, watching the elite warriors of the Golden Wood at their training. After a while Rúmil grew bored, and asked Celebrían to play Cat's Cradle with him. Laurelin pulled Orophin's boot off, and the two of them chased each other through the tree's branches, chattering and scolding like a pair of squirrels. Haldir meanwhile continued to watch the Galadrhim with admiration and awe. They were so disciplined, so exact. Every movement was just as it was meant to be.
"Someday I will be a Galadrhim warrior." Haldir whispered to himself, more wistfully than anything else. Then Orophin's boot caught him in the side of the head, and he was caught up in the developing game of chase. The laughter of the children mingled with the ringing of blades, echoing up to the golden leaves of the mallorn trees above.