The fire burned orange and blue. They had set up tents for the night high on the cliff of Harrowdale. Below on the fields, the Rohirrim were settling in and new riders arrived every hour.

Haldir sat and stared at the flames. Beside him, Eomer still fumed from his argument with his sister. Eowyn wanted to fight, and Eomer would not allow it. Haldir looked up at Mira sitting across from him between Gimli and Gamling. He wished he had such authority to forbid her to fight, but he'd given up that right.

As the fire popped and sparked, Gamling hummed under his breath. Quietly at first, Mira joined in and sang the words to his melody. Gamling glanced up at her, surprised. His courage soared and his song took shape in a surprising warm baritone. She matched his pace and filled in the harmony, until the melody rose like the smoke and sparks from the fire, billowing above them in the dark sly.

Haldir had never heard Mira sing. Her voice was not strong and clear like that of an elf, but it suited her. He watched her face in the shadow of the fire, the way her lips moved, and the way she drew breath. A knot formed in his throat and he swallowed it back.

When the last words left his lips and the song faded away, Gamling's eyes were wet with tears.

Legolas had appeared and stood silently behind them.

"Few people know that song in Rohan," Gamling said to Mira. "Your kin were from the lowlands?"

She smiled. "Aye, my father's people were from the Gladden Fields. And before that, Rhovanion, until they were driven across the Anduin many years ago."

"My mother came from the Rhovanion folk," Gamling said.

"And mine from the Elven race of Lorien," Mira answered and her voice held a trace of bitterness.

Gamling watched her quietly.

"An unlikely match. In the days old there would be songs written about them."

Mira stared at the flames. She bowed her head and hair coming lose from her braid fell over her cheek obscuring her face. She ran a hand over her eyes.

"There are no songs, and too few left alive to remember," she said finally.

She looked up through the curtain of her hair and met Haldir's gaze across the flames. In her eyes there was such sadness that he wanted to stand and go to her, but Haldir balled his fists and looked away.

"Did they love each other?" Gamling asked.

Haldir scoffed. For a seasoned warrior, the Rohan Captain was remarkably sentimental.

"Aye, they did," he heard Mira say.

Legolas stepped forward and took a seat between Mira and Gimli. He had three cups of ale in his hands and he passed one each to them.

"To long-lost loved ones," he said. He raised his cup in a silent salute, and the others raised their own and drank.

"There's an old dwarvish song," Gimli began, "of an elven prince that fell in love with a lovely dwarf maiden."

Legolas choked and sprayed his mouthful of ale into the fire. The flames leapt high, and Mira and Gimli jumped backwards to avoid being singed. Gamling burst into hearty laughter and Eomer's shoulders shook silently.

"Or perhaps it was the other way around," Gimli mused as he righted himself back onto his seat.

Haldir stood and walked away. Away from the fire the air was chilled. He paced about in the darkness without knowing where we went.

He thought back of Saarsta's last day in Lothlorien, of her plea that Haldir meet her beloved, and his own decisive refusal. He remembered her anguish and her disappointment. He had buried his own regret deep. He had turned his back on anything that was different. He'd failed their friendship. Acknowledging it now only made the memories more painful.

He looked back towards the fire. He would regret this too, he knew. Mira's eyes would haunt him all the rest of his long years.

A rush of wind brought Haldir's head up. A smell of autumn on the breeze, of rushing waters and galloping horses. His senses were suddenly on full alert. His hand went to the hilt of his sword.

A cloaked rider was coming up the path. Haldir pulled his sword out in one smooth motion.

"Hail Marchwarden, lay down your arms," came the greeting, and recognizing the voice Haldir bowed his head.

"Lord Elrond," he answered, bewildered.

The Lord of Rivendell dismounted and came close.

"I had not expected you here," Lord Elrond said with a slight tilt of his head.

"Neither did I you."

Lord Elrond narrowed his eyes. "There is still need of us," he said as if speaking to himself.

"I thought our time was over."

"The time of the Elves is over," Elrond agreed. "Yet the time of those that remain just now begins. Show me to Aragorn's tent," he demanded, and Haldir obeyed silently.

...

Haldir was floating away from the shore towards Valinor. Middle Earth fell away behind him. He looked down towards his feet and where there should have been the deck of a boat, there was just air.

He looked back towards the shore and saw it engulfed in flames. The forest of Lothlorien burned. Behind it, the white city of men burned. He was too far to see it, but he knew, on the topmost terrace of Minas Tirith, the white tree burned. The trees and the earth groaned and creaked in the blaze. Above it all, the stark disembodied eye of Sauron thrashed in its tower.

How could the elves leave Middle Earth to burn, Haldir wondered.

He felt blindly for the hilt of his sword and forced his limbs to move. He took a step in the air, and whatever had been holding him afloat dissipated. With a shout, he fell into the water, the waves closing over his head. His body was heavy and he sank. Down and down he went, the sea getting darker as he descended.

He thrashed his arms and legs, fought to swim up. He broke through to the surface with a shout and at the same moment, sat up bewildered and awake in his tent.

Aragorn, followed by Legolas and Gimli had slipped away in the night following the Paths of the Dead through the White Mountains. His own visions told him nothing of Aragorn's journey. If Elrond had sent him there, Haldir knew he could succeed. But now those that remained began to doubt. And if he also left them...

Haldir stumbled out without bothering to put on his armour. He found a bucket of water, refilled his water skin and drank deeply.

He felt Mira come up behind him before he heard her.

"Let us not part enemies, Haldir," she said. Her eyes were red rimmed and puffy.

"Never that, no matter how we argue," he admitted.

Her shoulders sagged a little and she took a deep breath.

"Where are you headed, Haldir?"

"To Minas Tirith and to war," he answered.

"Why?"

"Because Middle Earth is still my home," he answered plainly. "I would not leave and see it burned behind me. I will not leave until it's made safe once more." He looked at his feet. He stretched his left arm, testing out the tightness of the wound. "Would you help me?" he asked, pulling at the bandages beneath his shirt.

"Aye," she answered. "I suppose I could do that."

She followed him to his tent with healing salve and fresh bandages.

"I will still need to breathe," he complained, as she pulled the strips of cloth tight around his chest.

"They'll hold your wound closed during battle," she answered. "Quit your whining."

"I do not whine."

"No, that is true," she relented, "you brood." She yanked one more time to tighten the wrap before she tied it. He gasped.

"You really are set to kill me."

"You've seen that in your visions?"

"My visions are mercifully silent when it comes to you."

She scoffed. "You'll live. Women wear corsets tighter than this."

"Not you, surely." He regretted the words as soon as they left his lips, for the image of Mira wearing women's clothing came easily to mind.

She paused and stared at him, wide eyed. "And why not I?" She moistened her lips. "Perhaps I have, in better times." She turned away and busied herself closing the jar of ointment and gathering up the old bandages.

Haldir tried to hide his smile, but he needn't have bothered. Mira looked everywhere else but at him.

He pulled his shirt on and then one by one the pieces of his armour.

"I saw a dwarf woman once," Mira said, "with such a mighty corset that when she bowed her head, her chin rested ..." she tried gesturing by way of explanation, "and her braided beard fell in right between ..." she trailed off, and turned to Haldir, horrified of where the conversation had headed. He didn't bother to hide his laughter.

"Some would find that attractive," Haldir teased.

"Perhaps the elven prince in Gimli's story," she suggested, and Haldir laughed harder.

They walked out to join Eomer and Gamling at the King's side.

"Have you seen my sister?" Eomer asked Mira, and when she shook her head he tried to hide the look of worry on his face. "We did not part well last night," he admitted. He frowned at the soldiers rushing about the, and finally set his helmet on his head and mounted his horse. "We are almost ready. Get ready to ride," he said and spurred his horse forward. Mira tied her sword on and Haldir frowned.

"I wish you would not fight," he admitted. "At least stay by my side."

"Believe me, Haldir," she said to him over her shoulder, "I have neither such skill nor such confidence to cut my own path through the orc ranks." She gave him a pointed look. "I'm sticking to you like a burr."

He scowled at her as she mounted her horse. He didn't want her honest introspection at the moment. He would have found a pretense of overconfidence more reassuring. But he'd forgotten. She was half human.

He swore softly and mounting his horse he followed her down the hill to the front of the line.