20: Epilogue. [Starts off 3rd person, then turns to 1st person.]
This was it, Haldir thought, as he stared out to the blue flat sea before him. It stirred a thrill in his heart. His hand still gripped Nariel's and he felt a bit sad, weepy, even. There before them, rocking slowly in the quay was the Last Ship. On that, they would sail to Valinor.
They had tarried long enough, and he thought briefly about his memories of Endor, the place he knew as Middle Earth. He glanced at his wife, standing beside him, her small hand cradling her swollen belly. Their child would come into the world soon. She was smiling at the horizon, positively glowing, he thought.
Then the rigging was done, and slowly, the last group of elves boarded the steps leading to the white ship. There were about 115 altogether (elves, not steps). They said Cirdan himself would steer this ship, it was his time to go as well. Long had he stayed upon these shores, but his time was come as well.
"So, um, Hi Cirdan." Haldir said to the old-but-not-quite-old man who was greeting the queue of Elves before they boarded..
"Hello." He said a little irritably, "Do I know you?" he said, and then turned away.
So much for striking up conversation.
Then looking back onto the green plains of Eriador and Lindon, Haldir thought of all the fond memories he had of Middle Earth. It had been nearly 150 years since he and Nariel had got married in Lothlorien.
It was a simple ceremony, but Galadriel herself had attended. In later years, Haldir found her much less of a pain. The couple had chosen a wedding in the style of Rohirric ritual, since Rohan was the place where Haldir 'died'. Marien was the 'bridesmaid' and Glindir the 'best Man'. Celeborn had led the service, performed on Cerin Amroth. It went a little like this:
"Dearly Beloved, we are gathered here today, under the grace of her Lady Galadriel, in honour of the Valar in the West under the guidance of Eru Iluvatar the Creator, to join these two, Haldir Ammalinde, son of Nunaur of the Golden Wood and Nariel Ancalime, Daughter of Erestor of Imladris."
"Who am I marrying again?" asked the confused groom.
Celeborn gave a sigh of impatience, and snapped his fingers. Nariel promptly elbowed Haldir in the ribs.
"I shall continue," He continued, "Do the two of you promise to pledge yourselves to each other for eternity, until the world should end and then you should renew your vows? To treat each other well and fairly and cherish them? To be truthful and faithful to each other and never let harm come to them? Do you? DO YOU?!"
"Uh . . . yeah."
"Ditto."
"Right then," he said, "Um, now you shall exchange rings in token of this holy agreement, and you should wear these rings for eternity. Who has got the rings?"
"Um, I have the one," piped up Glindir, holding up the ornate gold band intended for me, "but, er, her lady seemed to have taken an interest in the other."
Galadriel was taking a specific interest in the ring meant for Nariel. She had it in her hand, studying it carefully. It was the diamond one that Haldir had taken from Arwen all those years ago.
"It's strange," she said, "I gave Undomiel a specially created ring the year before her mother went, and it was IDENTICAL to this one. White gold, plated with mithril, 21 carats. 18 carat solid Diamond, clean crystal cut . . . Identical." She murmured.
Suddenly Haldir felt very hot and constricted in his special ceremonial suit, which was a pale lilac, a colour he detested. His face was a deep shade of pink. But it passed. Galadriel handed the ring back and Haldir placed it on Nariel's fourth finger on her right hand, and she did the same with the gold band.
Cheers arose from the crowd that had come to watch (most were uninvited, but came anyway, no one stopped them), and Elves that had been watching from the treetops above (the wedding had taken place at ground level) scattered basmati rice down at the couple. One threw a shoe for good luck; unfortunately, it hit Haldir on the forehead. It took him a few minutes to regain consciousness: it had been a very heavy (and smelly) boot.
Galadriel gave them her blessing, well, she gave Nariel a blessing:
"Nai tiruvantel a varyuvantel i Valar tielyanna nu vilya." She said.
Then turning to Haldir, she gave him the equivalent of a Dirty Look. He was satisfied though. It was better than anything she could throw at him physically.
And that's how they got married.
Afterwards they went to their specially prepared honeymoon suite and . . . well, you should know the rest.
*
In the years after, Marien left for the new colony of Ithilien, but she sent letters continually, and Glindir sent homemade letter bombs continually, and even visited them once in their home in Caras Galadhon. Haldir had built them a large and complex talan, because Nariel wasn't used to sleeping rough. It was spacious and comfortable, not to mention of good quality. Woodwork had been Haldir's strong point. He, of course, regained his post as March Warden of the northern border (when he wasn't at home, of course) and Captain of the Golden Wood's small militia, so Erestor didn't worry as much as he needed to about his daughter's future.
Either of them, in fact, because here with Glindir (who Haldir had not seen in a long time) was Marien Telemnar, youngest daughter of Erestor jumping off a palomino horse and running towards them and the ship.
Nariel gave a yelp of joy in seeing her little sister. Marien had spent some time in Gondor, serving Arwen like her mother had served Arwen's mother. Glindir, well, Haldir didn't know what Glindir had been doing. It was still good to see him though. He embraced him warmly, and the four of them chatted while waiting to board the ship, Marien patting her sister's stomach swollen stomach, the two of them catching up with present times and talking of fond memories. Glindir and Haldir followed suit.
"So . . . how're our friend's down south?" Haldir said first. He still had to come to terms that Legolas had indirectly saved his life after Helm's Deep.
"Legolas and them lot?"
"Yes. Them. Lot."
"Well, I'm sorry to say that Aragorn is dying. Arwen won't come with us, I'm afraid. Me and Marien got here just in time."
"Dead?" His face was drawn into concern. No matter how annoying the Elfstone could be, it was impossible to imagine him old and dying. He had been Haldir's idea of a naive, filthy and dim, yet valiant man. It was hard to conceive the inevitable fact that he was still mortal.
"Not quite." Said Glindir, looking a little uneasy, "But soon to. Arwen's in an awful state. She'll never make it to Aman. Just like all those other elves in history."
"Perhaps she and Maglor could meet."
"Hmm."
"So where is our good friend Legolas?"
"What?"
"He's not here. How's he getting there?"
"He's waiting to Aragorn to pass away, and I heard he's building his own ship. I even heard he's taking a DWARF to the Blessed Realm. He was vouched for by her lady Galadriel."
He gave an involuntary shudder.
"I'm sure her lady meant for the best." Said Haldir, who had met the dwarf twice. He didn't really like the dwarf (or any dwarves in fact), but he knew the dwarf thought the same of him. "I kinda missed her, after she left, leaving Celeborn all alone. Then we all moved to East Lorien, which is basically what used to be South Mirkwood. Celeborn was never the same. He constantly worried about her, and the fact that she and Elrond were on the same ship, and in close contact."
"Ah." Said Glindir.
"Yes, that old argument. Like I've said, he's always had a thing about his wife and younger men. But now he's joining her in the Blessed Realm. At least he'll be happy. I have a pregnant wife susceptible to mood swings. Pity me."
"I do."
"We're planning to have the baby in Valinor. I hope we can stay somewhere nice like Valimar, or Lorien, proper Lorien. But I think Nariel wants to live in Tirion. That's where her father's been living for the last 50 or so years. He left with Elrond. Imagine that."
"To live with your father-in-law? No thank-you, I don't think I will! But Elven Tirion is not too bad. I might join you there."
Eventually, they were allowed onto the ship, but first their ears had to be inspected to see if they were real elves, and not a mortal faking to try and get onto the Blessed Realm without leave.
Soon, the ship left the harbour, which had been for the most part taken apart by the elves that had already gone. And the coves and coast of Lindon and Mithlond disappear before his eyes, as the ship sail further and further out. He watched the land submerge into mist from the deck of the boat, and felt a pang in his heart to see his home, the place where he was born disappear from sight, and knowing that he would never see it again. he was Moriquendi, and he was leaving his home forever. Sure, he was going somewhere better, but he knew he was going to miss Lothlorien.
Sighing almost wearily, he made his way below deck to see how Nariel was.
It came as a huge blow when Glindir rushed out of the cabin where Nariel was (there seemed to be a large crowd inside), shaking him by the shoulders yelling:
"The baby's coming, THE BABY'S COMING! BRING TOWELS!!" feverishly into his face.
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~Oh crap, oh crap. The baby's coming. Will I be good father? I'm going to be a dad! I'm going to have a son! Or daughter, or a daughter.~
~No, don't think about that, think about where you'll find towels.~
~Yes, you need towels and hot water. Towels and hot water . . .~
"HALDIR!" she screamed. I ran immediately over to her, but there were so many in the way. Many elves had not seen a birth in a century, to some, this was a new experience and they were crowding around to see it, but I had to remind them it was MY child, and MY wife in mortal agony lying there on that cabin bed, mainly by pushing and shoving my way through.
We'd thought of having the child in Valinor. Then he or she would be technically Calaquendi. So typical that Nariel should give birth on a SHIP, not that there's anything wrong with Telerin ships. She couldn't hold it in for one more day, could she? Then the child could be born on blessed soil.
"Hush," said Marien, who had taken up the place as midwife's assistant. The midwife was an elderly lady who had seen to the birth of Celebrian. She barked orders round to the nearest person by her, which more often than not was me. Therefore I had to bounce around the ship, finding towels and heating up water instead of holding my wife's hand and comforting her when she needed it. I came back with the towels as quickly as I could before running to the bed.
The midwife had given her a piece of wood to chew on, so she wouldn't bite her tongue from her pain, but she had spat it out. It was alarming to see her in such distress and I managed to push through the ring of spectators where she was lying, legs wide apart. I tried not to look in that direction.
Her hand was outstretched, and she was muttering and crying out my name.
"Haldir, Haldir." Endlessly, until I took her extended hand and kissed her, cooing her softly.
"PUSH!" yelled the midwife.
"I am pushing!!!," she screamed, neck arching from the pain. Her hand gripped mine painfully, and then the other hand that had been holding Marien's reached over to mine as well.
Then her two hands found their way to my neck. They squeezed.
"YOU DID THIS TO ME!" She screamed at my face, and squeezing my neck with surprising strength, at the same time pushing out the stubborn baby at the other end. I choked helplessly, but no one was noticing. The child was about to appear, "YOU DID THIS TO ME!!" she yelled again, and with one last effort, she strangled me one more time, and pushed out the tiny form of a baby.
The last things I remembered were the sounds of a baby crying for the first time, a multitude of "aawws" from the crowd and the midwife proclaiming: "It's a girl!" before the circulation to my brain was cut off and I fell unconscious and blacked out.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ *~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
When I awoke again, I found myself lying on a bed, neatly tucked in. I was in my cabin, which was empty now of people.
"Nariel? Love?" I called out. I couldn't see much. It was early evening, and the porthole windows were covered.
"I'm here." Said a croaky voice beside me. Once my eyes adjusted to the light, I saw her, in sitting on her bed cradling a bundle in her arms which was my-
"Baby." I murmured.
"Yes," she said softly, her eyes fixed on the little thing in her arms. I got out of my bed and walked over to her, putting my arms around her and kissing her lovingly. She had calmed down now since the actual birth, but she was tired, her eyes had rings around them and drooped constantly and her face was grey and weary. I took the child out of her arms and she sighed and leaned back onto her bed.
"She's beautiful." I whispered, breathless. This was my daughter, breathing softly, eyes closed so peacefully. I couldn't believe how much I adored her. Her sweet angelic face made me want to devote my life to her. She was more beautiful than anyone else's daughters. She was like the sun peeping over the horizon. This was my baby. My darling little girl . . .
So this is what fatherhood feels like.
Nariel saw my happy expression and smiled.
"What do you think we should name her?" she asked. Her voice was sore from labour but it sounded so beautiful. I felt on top of the world, in that poky dark ship cabin.
"I don't know." I said, still, breathless, "what name would be beautiful enough for her?"
"Oh, stop being so poetic. She needs a name. I can't believe we didn't sort this out BEFORE the baby came. It would've saved us a great deal of hassle. So let's give her a name, quickly."
"Um, you choose."
"Right, then, let's work systematically. Traditional names first."
"Miriel?"
"Please. There are probably twenty Miriels on this ship. If you called out 'Miriel?' in the centre of Tirion, you'd have three hundred people answering. And besides, I knew a Miriel when I was a little girl, at the schooling house in Rivendell. She always picked on me."
"I can't imagine anyone picking on you. All right, we won't call her Miriel, even though it's a perfectly good name. It was good enough for Serinde. Lets call her after something to do with gold. Loriel?"
"Uh, no! I knew a Loriel at the schooling house as well. She stole my marbles! I hated her!"
I stared for a moment before coming back to my senses.
"Glorwen, golden maiden?" I asked timidly, trying out the meanings with her.
"No, she was also there; she called me fat."
"Firiel?"
"No, she was the one to reported me to the scholar about the papaya trees."
"Is there any name that you don't share with a hated schoolmate?" I snapped.
She sulked quietly, the yet unnamed baby in my arms gurgled, and I felt that strange floating sensation of Love again just by looking at her.
"Let's call her Anarore, Sunrise." I said almost dreamily.
"What is it with you and the sunrise?!" she cried. "I know it's important to you, but you don't name a living child by that name."
Then settling back, she said.
"How about Niphredil."
"Wasn't your horse called Niphredil?"
"Well she passed away long ago."
"But you can't name her after a horse!"
"Fine." She sulked.
"Nieninque?"
"No. Just NO. If you name her that she'll hate you for the rest of her life."
"Alright, we'll name her after a month. The month is May. We name her after the month she was born in. Lotesse. May."
"No! Naming her after a month is unlucky!"
"But you were named after June!"
" 'Narie' has an 'r' in it." She said haughtily. I sighed.
"Alright, lets try famous women from history. Nimrodel."
"No."
"Arien."
"Pretty, but no."
"Erendis."
"No."
"Aredhel."
"I am not naming my child after the woman who brought the fall of Gondolin!"
"Nerdanel?"
"I am not naming my child after the wife of Feanor and accomplice in the Kinslaying!"
"Nandelle?"
" 'Little Harper' ?!" she ranted the meaning out to me.
"No then." I surmised, rubbing my temples with my free hand, "Glorianna, golden gift."
"These are getting very obscure."
Eventually, after much discussion and the yet-unnamed child had her nappy changed twice, we narrowed it down to either Gloredhel, 'golden elf', a woman from history, or Lindarwen, 'beautiful maiden'.
We enlisted the help of Glindir, but in the end even he couldn't cope. He used a Quenya Lexicon of flower names, but after rifling through it for 3 hours straight on the commands of Nariel, he had lost the use of his hand. His fingers were numb and bleeding from mild paper cuts. You can imagine how fed up he was.
"Wait for the next person to enter." He said finally. "Then we name the girl. Then we name it after the next person who enters. Agreed?"
"Agreed." We said in unison.
This was probably the best method. The next person to come in would have to really care for Nariel to visit her. Then she would be important in our lives.
All three pairs of eyes were fixed on the door of the cabin, not including the baby. The child's future depended on it.
Then suddenly, the door creaked open. We held our breaths in anticipation. And then breathed out in shock.
Cirdan's head was poked round the door.
"We're getting near Tol Eressea now." he said, smiling cheerily, "And how's the baby?"
I could have bashed my head against a rock there and then. Glindir yelled in frustration and Nariel looked ready to cry.
"What? What did I say?" said Cirdan.
Nariel looked as if she wanted to flex her fingers badly. Possibly envelop them around the Captain of the ship's neck. How could you name a girl Cirdan?
"We need a name for the baby, lord Cirdan." I said as calmly as I could manage. "We'd thought of either Lindarwen or Gloredhel but we really can't decide."
He peered down at the sleeping child in my arms.
"She is a fire spirit, like her mother. Call her Uruviel." He said firmly.
It seemed to fit so well. you could always trust the Lord of the Falas to come up with a good name. Nariel gasped in joy and Glindir heaved a sigh of relief. Nariel had forbidden him from leaving the room until the child had a name. Well now she did. Uruviel, daughter of Haldir and Nariel. I became lost in my thoughts, when suddenly--
"Oh dear." I said quietly.
The hand that was supporting the child's bottom felt moist.
Just in time for Valinor too.
THE MORAL OF THIS STORY IS THIS:
You don't have to be super beautiful like the Evenstar or possess Mary Sue features to fall in love. And you don't need to be as famous, rich or good- looking as Legolas to create a fab piece of fanfiction.
END
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[A/N:]
Yes, people, this is the last chapter of Haldir's story. There will be no sequel, or things will get out of hand. Haldir fell in love with a girl, the end.
After this, I may go one to write vignettes, or mini tales. I'm also thinking of writing a Mary-Sue parody (This time Maria-Susannah NOT in Middle Earth, some other misfit sent, who teaches Gandalf to braid his beard into dreadlocks, teaches fellowship badminton, preaches the wonders of tampons to the Elven women etc.) instead.
But then I finished reading His Dark Materials by Phillip Pullman, and now that is my new reading fandom. Serafina Pekkala in Middle Earth, anyone? If yes, tell me and it shall be done.
This was it, Haldir thought, as he stared out to the blue flat sea before him. It stirred a thrill in his heart. His hand still gripped Nariel's and he felt a bit sad, weepy, even. There before them, rocking slowly in the quay was the Last Ship. On that, they would sail to Valinor.
They had tarried long enough, and he thought briefly about his memories of Endor, the place he knew as Middle Earth. He glanced at his wife, standing beside him, her small hand cradling her swollen belly. Their child would come into the world soon. She was smiling at the horizon, positively glowing, he thought.
Then the rigging was done, and slowly, the last group of elves boarded the steps leading to the white ship. There were about 115 altogether (elves, not steps). They said Cirdan himself would steer this ship, it was his time to go as well. Long had he stayed upon these shores, but his time was come as well.
"So, um, Hi Cirdan." Haldir said to the old-but-not-quite-old man who was greeting the queue of Elves before they boarded..
"Hello." He said a little irritably, "Do I know you?" he said, and then turned away.
So much for striking up conversation.
Then looking back onto the green plains of Eriador and Lindon, Haldir thought of all the fond memories he had of Middle Earth. It had been nearly 150 years since he and Nariel had got married in Lothlorien.
It was a simple ceremony, but Galadriel herself had attended. In later years, Haldir found her much less of a pain. The couple had chosen a wedding in the style of Rohirric ritual, since Rohan was the place where Haldir 'died'. Marien was the 'bridesmaid' and Glindir the 'best Man'. Celeborn had led the service, performed on Cerin Amroth. It went a little like this:
"Dearly Beloved, we are gathered here today, under the grace of her Lady Galadriel, in honour of the Valar in the West under the guidance of Eru Iluvatar the Creator, to join these two, Haldir Ammalinde, son of Nunaur of the Golden Wood and Nariel Ancalime, Daughter of Erestor of Imladris."
"Who am I marrying again?" asked the confused groom.
Celeborn gave a sigh of impatience, and snapped his fingers. Nariel promptly elbowed Haldir in the ribs.
"I shall continue," He continued, "Do the two of you promise to pledge yourselves to each other for eternity, until the world should end and then you should renew your vows? To treat each other well and fairly and cherish them? To be truthful and faithful to each other and never let harm come to them? Do you? DO YOU?!"
"Uh . . . yeah."
"Ditto."
"Right then," he said, "Um, now you shall exchange rings in token of this holy agreement, and you should wear these rings for eternity. Who has got the rings?"
"Um, I have the one," piped up Glindir, holding up the ornate gold band intended for me, "but, er, her lady seemed to have taken an interest in the other."
Galadriel was taking a specific interest in the ring meant for Nariel. She had it in her hand, studying it carefully. It was the diamond one that Haldir had taken from Arwen all those years ago.
"It's strange," she said, "I gave Undomiel a specially created ring the year before her mother went, and it was IDENTICAL to this one. White gold, plated with mithril, 21 carats. 18 carat solid Diamond, clean crystal cut . . . Identical." She murmured.
Suddenly Haldir felt very hot and constricted in his special ceremonial suit, which was a pale lilac, a colour he detested. His face was a deep shade of pink. But it passed. Galadriel handed the ring back and Haldir placed it on Nariel's fourth finger on her right hand, and she did the same with the gold band.
Cheers arose from the crowd that had come to watch (most were uninvited, but came anyway, no one stopped them), and Elves that had been watching from the treetops above (the wedding had taken place at ground level) scattered basmati rice down at the couple. One threw a shoe for good luck; unfortunately, it hit Haldir on the forehead. It took him a few minutes to regain consciousness: it had been a very heavy (and smelly) boot.
Galadriel gave them her blessing, well, she gave Nariel a blessing:
"Nai tiruvantel a varyuvantel i Valar tielyanna nu vilya." She said.
Then turning to Haldir, she gave him the equivalent of a Dirty Look. He was satisfied though. It was better than anything she could throw at him physically.
And that's how they got married.
Afterwards they went to their specially prepared honeymoon suite and . . . well, you should know the rest.
*
In the years after, Marien left for the new colony of Ithilien, but she sent letters continually, and Glindir sent homemade letter bombs continually, and even visited them once in their home in Caras Galadhon. Haldir had built them a large and complex talan, because Nariel wasn't used to sleeping rough. It was spacious and comfortable, not to mention of good quality. Woodwork had been Haldir's strong point. He, of course, regained his post as March Warden of the northern border (when he wasn't at home, of course) and Captain of the Golden Wood's small militia, so Erestor didn't worry as much as he needed to about his daughter's future.
Either of them, in fact, because here with Glindir (who Haldir had not seen in a long time) was Marien Telemnar, youngest daughter of Erestor jumping off a palomino horse and running towards them and the ship.
Nariel gave a yelp of joy in seeing her little sister. Marien had spent some time in Gondor, serving Arwen like her mother had served Arwen's mother. Glindir, well, Haldir didn't know what Glindir had been doing. It was still good to see him though. He embraced him warmly, and the four of them chatted while waiting to board the ship, Marien patting her sister's stomach swollen stomach, the two of them catching up with present times and talking of fond memories. Glindir and Haldir followed suit.
"So . . . how're our friend's down south?" Haldir said first. He still had to come to terms that Legolas had indirectly saved his life after Helm's Deep.
"Legolas and them lot?"
"Yes. Them. Lot."
"Well, I'm sorry to say that Aragorn is dying. Arwen won't come with us, I'm afraid. Me and Marien got here just in time."
"Dead?" His face was drawn into concern. No matter how annoying the Elfstone could be, it was impossible to imagine him old and dying. He had been Haldir's idea of a naive, filthy and dim, yet valiant man. It was hard to conceive the inevitable fact that he was still mortal.
"Not quite." Said Glindir, looking a little uneasy, "But soon to. Arwen's in an awful state. She'll never make it to Aman. Just like all those other elves in history."
"Perhaps she and Maglor could meet."
"Hmm."
"So where is our good friend Legolas?"
"What?"
"He's not here. How's he getting there?"
"He's waiting to Aragorn to pass away, and I heard he's building his own ship. I even heard he's taking a DWARF to the Blessed Realm. He was vouched for by her lady Galadriel."
He gave an involuntary shudder.
"I'm sure her lady meant for the best." Said Haldir, who had met the dwarf twice. He didn't really like the dwarf (or any dwarves in fact), but he knew the dwarf thought the same of him. "I kinda missed her, after she left, leaving Celeborn all alone. Then we all moved to East Lorien, which is basically what used to be South Mirkwood. Celeborn was never the same. He constantly worried about her, and the fact that she and Elrond were on the same ship, and in close contact."
"Ah." Said Glindir.
"Yes, that old argument. Like I've said, he's always had a thing about his wife and younger men. But now he's joining her in the Blessed Realm. At least he'll be happy. I have a pregnant wife susceptible to mood swings. Pity me."
"I do."
"We're planning to have the baby in Valinor. I hope we can stay somewhere nice like Valimar, or Lorien, proper Lorien. But I think Nariel wants to live in Tirion. That's where her father's been living for the last 50 or so years. He left with Elrond. Imagine that."
"To live with your father-in-law? No thank-you, I don't think I will! But Elven Tirion is not too bad. I might join you there."
Eventually, they were allowed onto the ship, but first their ears had to be inspected to see if they were real elves, and not a mortal faking to try and get onto the Blessed Realm without leave.
Soon, the ship left the harbour, which had been for the most part taken apart by the elves that had already gone. And the coves and coast of Lindon and Mithlond disappear before his eyes, as the ship sail further and further out. He watched the land submerge into mist from the deck of the boat, and felt a pang in his heart to see his home, the place where he was born disappear from sight, and knowing that he would never see it again. he was Moriquendi, and he was leaving his home forever. Sure, he was going somewhere better, but he knew he was going to miss Lothlorien.
Sighing almost wearily, he made his way below deck to see how Nariel was.
It came as a huge blow when Glindir rushed out of the cabin where Nariel was (there seemed to be a large crowd inside), shaking him by the shoulders yelling:
"The baby's coming, THE BABY'S COMING! BRING TOWELS!!" feverishly into his face.
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~Oh crap, oh crap. The baby's coming. Will I be good father? I'm going to be a dad! I'm going to have a son! Or daughter, or a daughter.~
~No, don't think about that, think about where you'll find towels.~
~Yes, you need towels and hot water. Towels and hot water . . .~
"HALDIR!" she screamed. I ran immediately over to her, but there were so many in the way. Many elves had not seen a birth in a century, to some, this was a new experience and they were crowding around to see it, but I had to remind them it was MY child, and MY wife in mortal agony lying there on that cabin bed, mainly by pushing and shoving my way through.
We'd thought of having the child in Valinor. Then he or she would be technically Calaquendi. So typical that Nariel should give birth on a SHIP, not that there's anything wrong with Telerin ships. She couldn't hold it in for one more day, could she? Then the child could be born on blessed soil.
"Hush," said Marien, who had taken up the place as midwife's assistant. The midwife was an elderly lady who had seen to the birth of Celebrian. She barked orders round to the nearest person by her, which more often than not was me. Therefore I had to bounce around the ship, finding towels and heating up water instead of holding my wife's hand and comforting her when she needed it. I came back with the towels as quickly as I could before running to the bed.
The midwife had given her a piece of wood to chew on, so she wouldn't bite her tongue from her pain, but she had spat it out. It was alarming to see her in such distress and I managed to push through the ring of spectators where she was lying, legs wide apart. I tried not to look in that direction.
Her hand was outstretched, and she was muttering and crying out my name.
"Haldir, Haldir." Endlessly, until I took her extended hand and kissed her, cooing her softly.
"PUSH!" yelled the midwife.
"I am pushing!!!," she screamed, neck arching from the pain. Her hand gripped mine painfully, and then the other hand that had been holding Marien's reached over to mine as well.
Then her two hands found their way to my neck. They squeezed.
"YOU DID THIS TO ME!" She screamed at my face, and squeezing my neck with surprising strength, at the same time pushing out the stubborn baby at the other end. I choked helplessly, but no one was noticing. The child was about to appear, "YOU DID THIS TO ME!!" she yelled again, and with one last effort, she strangled me one more time, and pushed out the tiny form of a baby.
The last things I remembered were the sounds of a baby crying for the first time, a multitude of "aawws" from the crowd and the midwife proclaiming: "It's a girl!" before the circulation to my brain was cut off and I fell unconscious and blacked out.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ *~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
When I awoke again, I found myself lying on a bed, neatly tucked in. I was in my cabin, which was empty now of people.
"Nariel? Love?" I called out. I couldn't see much. It was early evening, and the porthole windows were covered.
"I'm here." Said a croaky voice beside me. Once my eyes adjusted to the light, I saw her, in sitting on her bed cradling a bundle in her arms which was my-
"Baby." I murmured.
"Yes," she said softly, her eyes fixed on the little thing in her arms. I got out of my bed and walked over to her, putting my arms around her and kissing her lovingly. She had calmed down now since the actual birth, but she was tired, her eyes had rings around them and drooped constantly and her face was grey and weary. I took the child out of her arms and she sighed and leaned back onto her bed.
"She's beautiful." I whispered, breathless. This was my daughter, breathing softly, eyes closed so peacefully. I couldn't believe how much I adored her. Her sweet angelic face made me want to devote my life to her. She was more beautiful than anyone else's daughters. She was like the sun peeping over the horizon. This was my baby. My darling little girl . . .
So this is what fatherhood feels like.
Nariel saw my happy expression and smiled.
"What do you think we should name her?" she asked. Her voice was sore from labour but it sounded so beautiful. I felt on top of the world, in that poky dark ship cabin.
"I don't know." I said, still, breathless, "what name would be beautiful enough for her?"
"Oh, stop being so poetic. She needs a name. I can't believe we didn't sort this out BEFORE the baby came. It would've saved us a great deal of hassle. So let's give her a name, quickly."
"Um, you choose."
"Right, then, let's work systematically. Traditional names first."
"Miriel?"
"Please. There are probably twenty Miriels on this ship. If you called out 'Miriel?' in the centre of Tirion, you'd have three hundred people answering. And besides, I knew a Miriel when I was a little girl, at the schooling house in Rivendell. She always picked on me."
"I can't imagine anyone picking on you. All right, we won't call her Miriel, even though it's a perfectly good name. It was good enough for Serinde. Lets call her after something to do with gold. Loriel?"
"Uh, no! I knew a Loriel at the schooling house as well. She stole my marbles! I hated her!"
I stared for a moment before coming back to my senses.
"Glorwen, golden maiden?" I asked timidly, trying out the meanings with her.
"No, she was also there; she called me fat."
"Firiel?"
"No, she was the one to reported me to the scholar about the papaya trees."
"Is there any name that you don't share with a hated schoolmate?" I snapped.
She sulked quietly, the yet unnamed baby in my arms gurgled, and I felt that strange floating sensation of Love again just by looking at her.
"Let's call her Anarore, Sunrise." I said almost dreamily.
"What is it with you and the sunrise?!" she cried. "I know it's important to you, but you don't name a living child by that name."
Then settling back, she said.
"How about Niphredil."
"Wasn't your horse called Niphredil?"
"Well she passed away long ago."
"But you can't name her after a horse!"
"Fine." She sulked.
"Nieninque?"
"No. Just NO. If you name her that she'll hate you for the rest of her life."
"Alright, we'll name her after a month. The month is May. We name her after the month she was born in. Lotesse. May."
"No! Naming her after a month is unlucky!"
"But you were named after June!"
" 'Narie' has an 'r' in it." She said haughtily. I sighed.
"Alright, lets try famous women from history. Nimrodel."
"No."
"Arien."
"Pretty, but no."
"Erendis."
"No."
"Aredhel."
"I am not naming my child after the woman who brought the fall of Gondolin!"
"Nerdanel?"
"I am not naming my child after the wife of Feanor and accomplice in the Kinslaying!"
"Nandelle?"
" 'Little Harper' ?!" she ranted the meaning out to me.
"No then." I surmised, rubbing my temples with my free hand, "Glorianna, golden gift."
"These are getting very obscure."
Eventually, after much discussion and the yet-unnamed child had her nappy changed twice, we narrowed it down to either Gloredhel, 'golden elf', a woman from history, or Lindarwen, 'beautiful maiden'.
We enlisted the help of Glindir, but in the end even he couldn't cope. He used a Quenya Lexicon of flower names, but after rifling through it for 3 hours straight on the commands of Nariel, he had lost the use of his hand. His fingers were numb and bleeding from mild paper cuts. You can imagine how fed up he was.
"Wait for the next person to enter." He said finally. "Then we name the girl. Then we name it after the next person who enters. Agreed?"
"Agreed." We said in unison.
This was probably the best method. The next person to come in would have to really care for Nariel to visit her. Then she would be important in our lives.
All three pairs of eyes were fixed on the door of the cabin, not including the baby. The child's future depended on it.
Then suddenly, the door creaked open. We held our breaths in anticipation. And then breathed out in shock.
Cirdan's head was poked round the door.
"We're getting near Tol Eressea now." he said, smiling cheerily, "And how's the baby?"
I could have bashed my head against a rock there and then. Glindir yelled in frustration and Nariel looked ready to cry.
"What? What did I say?" said Cirdan.
Nariel looked as if she wanted to flex her fingers badly. Possibly envelop them around the Captain of the ship's neck. How could you name a girl Cirdan?
"We need a name for the baby, lord Cirdan." I said as calmly as I could manage. "We'd thought of either Lindarwen or Gloredhel but we really can't decide."
He peered down at the sleeping child in my arms.
"She is a fire spirit, like her mother. Call her Uruviel." He said firmly.
It seemed to fit so well. you could always trust the Lord of the Falas to come up with a good name. Nariel gasped in joy and Glindir heaved a sigh of relief. Nariel had forbidden him from leaving the room until the child had a name. Well now she did. Uruviel, daughter of Haldir and Nariel. I became lost in my thoughts, when suddenly--
"Oh dear." I said quietly.
The hand that was supporting the child's bottom felt moist.
Just in time for Valinor too.
THE MORAL OF THIS STORY IS THIS:
You don't have to be super beautiful like the Evenstar or possess Mary Sue features to fall in love. And you don't need to be as famous, rich or good- looking as Legolas to create a fab piece of fanfiction.
END
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[A/N:]
Yes, people, this is the last chapter of Haldir's story. There will be no sequel, or things will get out of hand. Haldir fell in love with a girl, the end.
After this, I may go one to write vignettes, or mini tales. I'm also thinking of writing a Mary-Sue parody (This time Maria-Susannah NOT in Middle Earth, some other misfit sent, who teaches Gandalf to braid his beard into dreadlocks, teaches fellowship badminton, preaches the wonders of tampons to the Elven women etc.) instead.
But then I finished reading His Dark Materials by Phillip Pullman, and now that is my new reading fandom. Serafina Pekkala in Middle Earth, anyone? If yes, tell me and it shall be done.
