Élharma had arrived at her room. Thanking her escorts, she left them promptly on her doorstep. Though she refused to show it on the surface, she really was quite tired; having ridden nonstop from Rivendell.
Her horse, Finrod, had been anxious to get back to his heard. She understood, he was a good leader. When he had left, he promised to send his most trusted son by the name of Calmcacil to be her new ride. Lying upon the unfamilliar bed, she looked out of her open window at the Mallorn trees, their leaves shining gold. As her delicate eyelids drooped into blissful sleep, she thought, 'I wonder what Haldir and Rhúmil are doing now?'
As a matter of fact, Haldir was just getting a sharp poke in the ribs. "Earth to Haldir," Rhúmil was saying to him.
Haldir turned patiently to his annoying brother, "What is it that you require Rhúmil? I was thinking and you disturbed me."
Rhúmil grinned, "I bet you were thinking. Thinking about a certain new handmaiden of the Lady, weren't you? She is definitely beautiful. I just have a small problem with her big attitude."
Haldir, not allowing Rhúmil's juvenile taunting to anger him, gently replied, "In a sense. I was more thinking about Galadriel. Did you see her cry as we left the great hall?"
Rhúmil's brows furrowed as if thinking were too hard for him. "Yes," he replied, "now that you mention it, I do believe I did. Why?"
Haldir closed his eyes again and said matter-of-factly, "that is just what I was wondering."
Rhúmil was silent but for a moment before excusing himself, "My incredibly wonderful, beautiful wife who I haven't seen in three days waiting for me at home. I am going to go and attend to her."
The two brothers parted ways, one going home and the other sitting in the bough of his favorite mallorn tree.
Élharma awoke some time before the evening meal. Having time to spend, she decided to go exploring. Lorien seemed such a beautiful place, it begged her discovery.
Donning a simple white gown, she stepped out, making a mental note of which door led to her room. Wandering through the woods she saw a faint path in the bush. 'I wonder where this path leads?' she asked herself.
It didn't seem to be much used, but the place which it lead to was nonetheless amazing. There was a small oblong pool, a waterfall flowing into one end. The water was crystal clear, revealing a sandy floor and some small fish darting about beneath its surface, seemingly hunting small bugs. The water was fresh and inviting, so she sat upon a mossy rock at the pools edge and dipped her feet into the refreshing coolness. The water lapped gently over her feet, relaxing her mind and spirit.
Then, all at once, she felt someone's eyes upon her. She stiffened, the gentle smile which had crept unknown upon her features was immediately abandoned. In its place came a dark scowl. She searched with a piercing gaze into the forest until her eyes came to rest on Haldir perched comfortably in the crook of a branch of a mallorn tree. Her back stiffened, the water suddenly becoming uncomfortably cold upon her feet. Despite her best efforts, her heart skipped a beat at seeing him there, so ruggedly handsome, a gentle expression on his kind face.
Standing, she glared at him, "It is considered rude where I come from to spy upon a lady like that."
He jumped down, landing without a sound beside her. He ignored her remark and spoke gently, "It is almost time for the evening meal," offering her his arm for support, "would you like to walk with me? The slope of this path is quite slippery when one walks on it with wet feet."
She had noticed that the path was particularly slippery and was having trouble keeping upright. Tilting her chin with brazenly she took his arm lightly.
He noticed a mark upon the back of her neck, it was a delicate design of silver with a smattering of gold within the intricate pattern. As they walked, he asked her about it, "My lady Élharma, what is the meaning of the mark upon your neck?"
"It is the curse of the Miiran," She shot at him, her voice accusing.
He felt a smile play at the corner of his mouth, mentioning tenderly, "You mean that which Galadriel referred to as a blessing and a gift?"
She did not say anything but her features remained as stone, not speaking the rest of the way up to her room. Without so much as a 'thank you' she left Haldir once again on the step of her door.
When Haldir was sitting in his favorite spot in the branch of the mallorn tree, Élharma had come wandering down the path in a simple white dress which flowed about her slender form in such a way that caused his breath to catch in his throat. He watched her as she sat by his favorite pool and dipped her delicate feet into its depths. In the evening sunlight, her features softened, almost smiling. The sight of her made his blood boil, she was so perfect, such an incredible representation of beauty. He had never been drawn, as if by some invisible thread of steel to another before. He watched her, unable to tear his eyes from her, his heart racing faster than he thought possible. The effects she was having on him was exciting and intoxicating. As he watched her there by the pool, a thought came to him. What if she is his eternal love? What if she is his bride to be? Could it be? But she is so cold, so stern and hard. Could he convince her to love him?
After he had escorted her to her room to change, he visited Galadriel and Celeborn. He hadn't said anything when Galadriel answered his questions, "Yes, I feel it to. Your heart beats in the same pattern as hers does. She could be the one made for your love. But it may be many, many years of pain and toil before she can love you. Most of her childhood she did not know love, and when she tried to show love, it was mocked and ridiculed. She has learned that to give love to someone will only be returned with ruthless cruelty, which is why she denies herself the pleasure of feeling her emotions."
He stood in shock for a moment, glad that Galadriel agreed yet discouraged that she had such dark tidings.
They all went to the dining hall together. When they found the young maiden hadn't arrived, Galadriel sent him to fetch her. On the way he plucked the fairest pink rose from the many vines which grew along the forest floor.
'You are being quite rude Élharma' she thought to herself as she changed into an evening gown of pale pink, 'You might scare the poor boy away.'
Hmmm, that might not be such a bad idea. 'But he is so nice and polite' her mind argued, 'cant you give him a chance?' NO! Absolutely no chance. Vigorously re-braiding her dark blonde hair, she thought to herself, 'I cannot become weak'
With her jaw set in grim determination, she set out for the dining hall, just to find him waiting for her outside her door. He was holding a pink rose in his hand, a thoughtful look on his face. At the sudden sight of him, her breath caught in her throat. She quickly dismissed the reaction to the surprise of suddenly finding him there.
He offered her the rose, "I thought you might like this, it matches your exquisite dress. I just came from the dining hall, and they are all waiting for you."
She walked out to him, primly taking the thorn-less rose and weaving it into the plaits in her hair, "Thank you for the rose. If you came to escort me to the dining hall, you may." With a cold air, she took his arm.
In the dining hall, they found two seats open for them. Haldir held the chair for Élharma, gently pushing it close to the table as she sat down. She tilted her head to him politely, yet an expression of steel still covered her features.
When all became quiet, Lord Celeborn stood, his proud voice ringing clear through the hall, "We gather tonight to celebrate the long awaited arrival of Lady Galadriel's new handmaiden and learner. I proudly introduce to all: D'immaren Calaelen,"
His mouth stumbled a bit over the foreign words and he quickly recovered by adding, "who we lovingly refer to as Élharma!"
There was applause, and Élharma stood and bowed to all of the guests seated around the magnificent table. She smiled faintly, demurely, "I thank you all for your kindness to this undeserving stranger. May we share many wonderful memories together."
Haldir had been watching her, she acclimated to the occasion with grace. He had expected her not to react so well to Lord Celeborn's gesture. But to his pleasant surprise, she showed the stoic grace of a natural princess. Seeing her as such was her birthright, it awed him. And it also sent waves of excitement through him, turning his thoughts to things less fitting than which should be thought of at such an occasion.
Élharma's eyes snapped to him, meeting his eyes with the all to familiar piercing gaze as she returned to her seat.
Galadriel, sitting to his right, leaned over and whispered, "I must warn you to guard yourself against such thoughts in her presence. She has a strong keeth."
His eyes jerked to meet her stare. He immediately quieted his mind, focusing on the dinner at large.
There were as many as a hundred elves seated around the grand table. The food was presented, there were steamed mushrooms, quazan salad, dried fruit, tarts, lembas bread. The air wafted with the heady aroma of sweet roasted yerns. The quiet murmur of dinner conversation flowed openly throughout the room. Everyone was sharing in on the conversation. All except Élharma. She was sitting with poise, her shoulders erect, back straight, eyes fixed upon her plate as she moved the food delicately around it.
Haldir, concerned that she was uncomfortable, politely asked, "Élharma, does the food not please you?"
She did not look up, but replied, "The food is wonderful, thank you."
At a loss for words, he asked, "Where are you from?"
She answered quietly, still not meeting his gaze, "I was born in Maeglin, my father was Lord Elendil Calaelen and my mother was Gilraen Calaelen, also known as Elensar." At the mention of her father, her voice was cold. Yet at the name of her mother, she had almost smiled, her voice had softened almost to the point of being child like.
He wanted her to talk in such a way more, so he asked, "How did your mother get the gift of the miiran?"
Élharma's eyes became unfocused, the irises losing their swirling green and blue mist to become almost white. She spoke softly, with love and compassion, "It was my mother who pulled the first miiran from the bogs of Illium manor…" Then her eyes refocused, becoming once again hard and impenetrable.
Élharma had almost lost herself in the warm memories of her mother. Realizing where she was and to whom she was talking to, with an effort she pulled herself back to the present. Her eyes focused on him, his eyes were soft, full lips slightly parted as he waited for her to finish her story.
His hand was on his arm, and it sent fire to her heart. Cursing herself for such an inopportune time of weakness, she jerked her arm away from him, still feeling the unexplainable flutter of her heart. "The tale is in the scrolls," she replied.
He asked quietly, "Would you read it to me some time? You tell it much better than I can imagine."
She glared at him, "I do think your own reading will suffice."
Through the rest of the meal they sat in silence. Afterward, he walked her back to her chambers.
When he had arrived at his own frill, he felt the heady effects of the dinners wine wane, leaving him very tired. He fell unceremoniously upon his bed in a deep sleep the moment his head hit his pillow.
"Haldir." he heard a dreamy voice call.
"Haldir, I know you can hear me," the voice called again. It was a nice voice.
'Wait, I know that voice' he thought to himself. 'That is Élharma's voice. Whatever it is can wait until morning.'
"Haldir, open your eyes, silly!" She called again.
His eyes snapped open when he felt her warm lips press upon his forehead. She was leaning over him, a smile playing easily over her warm and inviting features. He also noticed that he was lying on a rock commonly known as the star-watching rock, Its soft mossy cover cushioning his head and back. The stars glinted merrily down from the heavens far above.
"What am I doing here?" He asked confused, "what are you doing here? Is this a dream?"
She laughed quietly, " No. I kythed you here."
Still confused he questioned, "But you cannot kythe yet."
She grinned, bringing a finger up to his cheek and tracing its contour lightly with its tip. "Élharma cannot kythe yet. I am Élharma, yet not the Élharma that you know. I am the part of her that is responsible for love, joy, kything, the miiran song, passion. She keeps me locked here, afraid of the pain that she is dealt when she lets me out."
In a clearing some yards away, Haldir saw the tiny form of a child holding what appeared a dead bird close to her chest. The child's father was standing over her, his voice cruel. The father scolded harshly, "You silly girl, you shouldn't have gotten so attached to a stupid bird. You knew it would die in the end, so you cannot blame anyone but yourself for loving such a weak creature." The little girl gazed down at the bird, tears flowing down her pale cheeks. "Élharma, stop that this instant. I'll have none of my children be so weak as to cry over a bird." The child, resolve sparking in her delicate features dried her face, stifled the sobs and unceremoniously let the creature drop to the ground.
Just as the vision faded, Haldir saw the father's features lift in a malicious grin.
He turned to the now grown Élharma, his eyes moist at the heartless scene which had unfolded before them.
"Now you can understand a little of why she doesn't let me out. You see, I am the part of her that decided to take a pet bird. Just as it has always been, whenever she let me out around her father he treated her brashly until she hid be in this part of her heart. Over time, the leash that held me here grew ever thicker and stronger until she couldn't let me out even if she wanted to."
Haldir's face became solemn and there was silence for a moment. "What do you want me to do?" He finally asked.
She leaned to him, whispering into his ear, "Teach her that it doesn't have to hurt to love someone."
She gently kissed the tip of his ear. The effect of her kiss sent shivers down his spine and he closed his eyes for a moment.
When his eyes opened he was lying upon his bed, the evening sun filtering through the window. A now- familiar voice echoed quietly through his mind, "Élharma knows not of our meeting."
A sharp knocking made its way through the cobwebs of sleep into his mind. A muffled voice called through his door, "Haldir! Come on! It is time to go on patrol."
Odd, his time for patrol wasn't for two nights. He called, "Come in!"
Orophin stormed in, "Come on brother, we are going to be late."
Confused, Haldir shook his head, trying to clear the fog in his mind. "How long has it been since my last patrol?" He asked in a gravelly voice.
Orophin grabbed his arm an pulled him along the path, saying, "It has been three days, and you are making us late!"
Haldir stopped dead, "THREE DAYS?" He exclaimed.
Orophin rolled his eyes, grabbing his older brother by the arm again, "Isnt that what I just said?"
Haldir muttered almost to himself, "I've been sleeping for two days? This cannot be."
Orophin guffawed, "So that is where you have been for two whole days: sleeping? Wait until I tell the others!" He burst out laughing.
Haldir wasn't so amused. 'How could such an innocent dream take two whole days?' He thought to himself, 'I will have to have a talk with Galadriel.'