"Come, now, Master Elf," Gamling scolded him, "you and I fought together. Will you not share a drink with me?"
The celebration following Aragorn's coronation was underway. Musicians played and the fire roared in the hearths. Servants poured out from the kitchens laden with trays of food and drink. Some of the company had taken to the middle of the hall and were dancing.
Haldir had spent the night at a table he shared with the elves of Lothlorien. They drank little and sat quietly, observing the festivities but not joining in.
The guests from Rohan were seated at the other end of the hall, and Gamling had made his way through the crowd with two tankards of ale, one in each hand. He offered one of them to Haldir now, arm outstretched, a large smile on his earnest face.
Haldir glanced at the Lothlorien elves behind him. They were observing the old Rohan warrior with cool eyes. Gamling's clothes were a little wrinkled. His cheeks a bit red from the heat and the ale. His hair was as wild as it had been in battle, and there was ale foam in his beard. One of the elves let his eyes roam over Gamling and then imperceptibly raised an eyebrow.
Haldir felt shame flood him over his own hesitation. This was Gamling, who sang sweet songs by the fire, toasted shared grief with and elf and a dwarf, fought like a lion by his king's side for the land of a neighbour.
"I will have a drink with you, Master Gamling," Haldir said, taking up the offered tankard. He clasped a hand on Gamling's back and they walked away from the circle of the elves. He'd never thought he'd be ashamed of his own kind.
"There's a good lad," Gamling beamed. Haldir grinned at being called a lad by the man so many years his junior.
"Marchwarden!" boomed Gimli as they crossed paths, Legolas right behind him. Haldir bowed and toasted tankards with them both.
"You remember our young friends?" Gimli gestured to the Hobbits who also bowed from their table. Two wore plain clothing while a third was dressed in the garb of Rohan and the fourth in that of Gondor.
"I remember a mighty fellowship," Haldir nodded, "and strong of heart!"
He shook hands with Eomer, who talked and laughed but kept throwing glances towards where his sister danced with the Gondor Captain, Faramir. Aragorn rose from the high table and joined them for a while, until Arwen herself came and led him in a dance.
Gamling replaced the now empty tankard in Haldir's hand with a full one, and they stood and watched the dancers.
Haldir had tried not to look at Mira all day long. He knew she was there, in fact, he'd known where she was at all times, like a beacon in the dark. He could sense her across the room, as if she was a fixed point and he moved around her. And since everyone but Gamling had moved away, he could hardly avoid looking at her now.
She was dressed in a buttercup-yellow dress, the one he'd dreamed of, her hair half braided and half loose on her back. Her cheeks were flushed from dancing. Her partner swung her around and she laughed with an abandon Haldir had never seen. He'd never seen her this happy, and it thrilled him and saddened him at the same time.
"A pretty lass," Gamling said, noticing Haldir's gaze. "And full of courage."
"Yes," Haldir nodded. There was no point lying about it.
"You should be out there, dancing with her."
"Me?"
"Aye, she's your lass, ain't she?" Gamling said vehemently.
"No, she's not mine," Haldir said, and couldn't keep the regret out of his voice.
The music came to a stop and the dancers paused and clapped. Mira, stood and clapped with the others, and then turned her head and looked straight at Haldir, as if she'd known all along where he was.
"I'd say that's for lack of trying, then," Gamling declared. He looked between them and shook his head.
Haldir held Mira's gaze. The musicians started another tune and the people cheered and found partners. Haldir wished childishly that he could walk up, take Mira's hand and lead her to the dance floor with the others. His feet itched to move to the rhythm of the song. Hundreds of years listening to the most beautiful music in Lothlorien, and he'd never felt this great need to dance as he did now, to the call of slightly out-of-tune human fiddles.
A man walked up to Mira demanding her attention and she turned, breaking eye contact with Haldir. Haldir let out the breath that he didn't know he'd been holding. He tossed back the rest of the ale in his tankard.
"I'd better go," he said to Gamling, then turned and walked out of the hall.
He walked aimlessly, careless of where his feet were taking him. He watched the cobblestones before him, barely lifting his head. Night had fallen. Torches anchored to the white walls lit his path.
He walked and walked, not looking at his surroundings, until the light from the torches faded and he could smell the perfume of roses in the air. He looked around him suddenly. He was in the rose garden. He could still see around him, despite the lack of torches, and for the first time since he came out of the hall, he glanced up at the sky.
Haldir stopped in his tracks and gasped.
Above him, rising like a cupola of light, was the sky he'd dreamed of before the battle of Helm's Deep. It stretched all around him, a billion stars and constellations arranged in the heavens, bright and glimmering.
He felt his chest tighten, and for the first time in more than two hundred years, he felt tears wet his cheeks.
"It is here," he murmured. "I am alive for this."
He felt a bolt shoot through his spine from the tip of his head to the soles of his feet. Speaking the words out loud had sealed his fate. Everything had brought him to this. The gift of sight that the While Lady bestowed on him had saved his life not once but twice. And now she was right once more. He needed it no longer.
He walked briskly to the wall where he could look down upon the torch-lit terraces of Minas Tirith and below them, to the fields stretching to the Anduin, bathed silver in the starlight. There was so much to do, so much he could help with. Aragorn was right to look forward to it. And now he would as well.
Something unfolded in his chest, a joy he had not felt in years. He wanted to shout it out.
He heard the steps behind him and without having to look he knew that she had followed him. He turned and saw her by the light of the stars, silver and gold.
"You could have stayed a bit longer," Mira said. "Had a dance for old times' sakes. But you act like you've already gone."
"It was easier this way," he found himself saying.
She scoffed. "For who? Was it easier for you?"
"Yes," he admitted.
"I thought we were friends, Haldir," she whispered. A bird sang quietly in the garden. From beyond the walls, the sounds of the celebration came, far away and muted, as if from another world.
"We were."
"But no longer?"
She shrunk back from him. He could only see her silhouette in the darkness, but the hurt in her voice made his spine tingle. He was still hurting her, always hurting her, even though he didn't need to. Not anymore.
He reached for her, and despite her resistance, pulled her to him. He took both her hands in his and squeezed them to his chest. He hugged her close.
"Always, Mira," he pleaded.
"No," she cried, her face against his chest. "Not like this. Don't say always when you'll say goodbye on the morrow. I don't want your friendship!"
"What do you want then, Mira?" he asked. "Say it. Anything. Please," he whispered in her hair. "Anything you want from me, I will do. I will cut out my living heart for you."
"Oh, Haldir, that's the stupidest thing you've ever said to me," she said crossly, but she stilled her struggles. "What are you saying?"
"Do you not know?"
"I don't want it cut out," she whispered with her cheek next to his, her mouth near his ear.
He was quiet, a smile lifting the corners of his mouth in the dark.
"But you want it?" he asked, speaking against her cheek. She was warm and she trembled a little.
"Yes, I want it," she whispered back, her lips like moth wings against his skin.
His mouth sought hers and he kissed her softly.
"It's yours," he said and kissed her again, lifting her in his arms so that her feet left the ground. "It's yours," he repeated.