Ok, ok, Haldir does sing when he's not drunk. Orophin was being a typical
younger brother. Many of us know how that goes.
Disclaimer: Ummm, if I owned 'em, you would know. Trust me.
Thanks so much to all my reviewers. I like to know that other sentient beings are reading my story. It puts a spring in my step and a warm fuzzy on my pillow. (Not really, but, you know..)
Heart's Lament
Haldir woke early, before the sun brightened the eastern sky, and slowly sat up in his bed, drawing the covers around him. He looked around the room at the others' sleeping forms, the only sound a deep, rhythmic breathing that suggested peace and simplicity. He eased himself over to the wall and leaned against it wearily with a sigh, his dreams still mingling with his thoughts. A tiny glimmer from Rumil's wrist caught his eye, and a slight flash of pain registered in the storm-sea eyes as he recognized their mother's silver bracelet, the one he had found when he was searching for their parents in the Misty Mountains, the only memory they had of her. The pain flitted away to be replaced by a faraway sorrow that seemed to only make his eyes shine clearer.
Haldir found himself unwillingly drawn back into memories he would rather not visit. Images flashed across his mind, their vivid color and translucence startling him. He saw Orophin, still a small child, sitting in his lap and placing his tiny hands in Haldir's big ones, laughing as if it were the most joyous thing in the world. He remembered Orophin's adoring eyes as he begged to hold Haldir's bow, and his sulking ones as their mother gathered him up for a bath. Faces came and went. Their father, strong and built, their mother, willowy and kind. Rumil, when he was also younger, when he was full of mirth and love of life. Father...
They had left to travel to Imladris. They never returned.
Haldir searched with other Elves, scoured the paths they had taken, to no avail. He had found the only clue to their disappearance tossed to the side of the road, partially buried under the fine sand. The bracelet's clasp was broken, as if it had been violently wrenched from the wearer and thrown away in a struggle. The silver was dusty, but the tiny blood-red jewel glittered starkly in the niphredil pendant, glaring back at him as he fingered it, a heavy darkness settling over his heart. Afterwards, he had given up and trudged home, reluctant to tell his brothers of their parents' fates, burdened with grief and the prospect of having to raise Orophin.
Some days it had seemed like a greater responsibility than he could bear...
Haldir had held Orophin while he wept. Rumil went into the other room and slept for three days, refusing to eat or drink. His eyes became hollow and mysterious, and he withdrew into a comfortable place inside his soul where nothing could hurt him again. He did not speak for two months, until Haldir quietly gave him the bracelet and met his eyes. Rumil had been the closest of his brothers to their mother, and had inherited her slight frame and introspective intelligence, the gleam of which Haldir saw in the clouded emerald eyes before Rumil turned away again.
The memories began to fade now, and Haldir was stunned to taste warm salt on his lips. 'Pull yourself together,' he admonished himself. 'It has been centuries now.' He heaved a sigh and clumsily wiped a corner of the blanket across his cheeks, smearing wet over his face. He quickly glanced around to make sure none of the others had awakened, and his gaze lingered on the girl as she slept, the kitten precariously balanced on her forehead. He smiled sadly, and wondered what had become of her family. Would she ever find peace?
What frail threads of hope was she hanging on to?
He lifted himself from the floor with a quiet groan and stretched, his arms reaching skyward as he balanced on the balls of his bare feet. Without bothering to dress, he padded silently into the living room, rolling up the sleeves of his sleeping robe. He stopped before the small table beside the wicker chair and knelt. The table boasted two drawers with gilded handles, and the top one was used for keeping books. But it was the other to which Haldir's hand strayed, and slowly pulled open. He inhaled deeply as his hand reached inside and lifted out a single bowstring, a thin cord slightly frayed from wear, but still as strong as the day it was first stretched taut and released.
Haldir sat back and crossed his legs, his brow furrowed in thought, his eyes clouding over with fond memory. How he had begged and cajoled his poor father for that bowstring, for that chance to be taken along to the borders with the other archers, to prove himself after all the long years of training. It was from this bowstring that he had launched his first arrow as a member of the Guard of Lothlorien. He could still see the pride in his father's eyes, in his younger brothers' eyes, in his mother's eyes as he pulled his arm back and sighted along the shaft...
A soft noise behind him caused Haldir to jump and swing his head around. Orophin was standing there, also in his nightclothes, with an almost pained expression. His moon-leaf eyes glimmered in the rising dawn as he knelt down close to his beloved brother and gently took the string from his hands. Haldir placed his hand on the back of Orophin's head and drew him forward. The two brothers' foreheads touched, and both gazed down at the cord lying in Orophin's hands. Haldir sniffed.
"Do you remember much of them?"
Something in his brother's tone caused a piece of Orophin's heart to tear. He sighed, pulled back and grasped Haldir's hands. A sorrowful smile strained his lips as he met his brother's eyes.
"Mother had a smile like the sun in the morning, when it touches the dew and melts away the night. I remember she smiled a lot."
Haldir nodded and glanced down. Orophin stared off into the distance and continued.
"Father was brave and had big hands-" At this, Orophin turned Haldir's hands palm up and clasped them tighter. "And- and he always spoke of his sons and what great warriors they would become. He had a big lap."
Orophin managed a slightly brighter smile and tilted his head to look into Haldir's shiny eyes. Haldir finally glanced up and smiled weakly back.
"He and mother used to sing to us."
Orophin nodded.
"And Rumil would sit close to mother, and I to you, and you would let me hold your bow sometimes."
Now both brothers were smiling wistfully at the peaceful memory. Haldir half-chuckled.
"And then Rumil would grab you and tickle you on the floor until you could no longer breathe."
A laugh escaped from Orophin.
"I remember that well, trust me."
A heavy silence fell over the room as Haldir stroked the string absently before folding it and putting it back in the drawer. His hand lingered on the gold handle, and a dreammist came across his eyes. Orophin carefully helped his brother stand, and the two wandered back into the sleeping area. Delicate tendrils of gold spilled into the room from the small window and splashed on the still figures of Rumil and Danali, painting their blankets and hair in glitter.
Rumil, unaware of the transformation, turned to his other side with an almost inaudible sigh and lay still once more. Dulin mewed blearily, then jumped off Danali and yawned, her tiny pink tongue lolling out as if to catch the sundrops. Orophin grinned and swept her into his arms, then strode back into the kitchen to prepare the morning meal. As he entered, an object on the dining table caught his eye. He stopped and leaned in for closer inspection. His brow wrinkled, then lifted as his eyes widened. Was that what he thought it was?
He bent down and set Dulin on the floor, then walked over and took the small bow in his hands. A choke crawled up his throat as he recognized Rumil's old bow from when he was an Elfling. It had been Haldir's before that. He ran his hands along the smooth, polished wood, decorated with simple carvings of Elvish runes, then twanged the new string. Rumil guarded this piece of his childhood with his life. He would never allow anyone to touch it, much less use-
"He wants to teach her."
Haldir stepped away from the doorway and glided over to the table.
"She has demonstrated great skill in strange places. Now we shall see what sort of warrior she will make."
Orophin raised his eyebrows in disbelief, then placed the bow back on the table.
"We will see what the Lord Celeborn has to say about this after that incident with Daethil."
Haldir shrugged.
"He was the one who recommended it. He felt we should channel her abilities into something productive."
"Yes, but Rumil? And his precious bow? You know, I think he has even named it."
Haldir nonchalantly walked over to the cabinets and brought out a bowl of eggs.
"He was adamant. He wanted to teach her, so I told him to go ahead."
Orophin shook his head and plucked an apple from another bowl near the washbasin.
"Whatever. It's probably good for both of them anyway."
Haldir watched him saunter into the other room to dress and focused his attention on the eggs. He paused to mutter, "We can only hope so" before turning to light the fire and ready the oven.
In his dreams, Rumil heard his mother laugh as she lifted him into her lap to sing to him.
******
Ok, I wasn't trying to make this into a sappy tearfest type thing, but I kind of wanted to give a little background on the brothers for a change. I know their parents probably didn't die in the books, * ducks a large brick hurled by the Canon police * but Danali wasn't there either, and everyone seems to be okay with that..
Disclaimer: Ummm, if I owned 'em, you would know. Trust me.
Thanks so much to all my reviewers. I like to know that other sentient beings are reading my story. It puts a spring in my step and a warm fuzzy on my pillow. (Not really, but, you know..)
Heart's Lament
Haldir woke early, before the sun brightened the eastern sky, and slowly sat up in his bed, drawing the covers around him. He looked around the room at the others' sleeping forms, the only sound a deep, rhythmic breathing that suggested peace and simplicity. He eased himself over to the wall and leaned against it wearily with a sigh, his dreams still mingling with his thoughts. A tiny glimmer from Rumil's wrist caught his eye, and a slight flash of pain registered in the storm-sea eyes as he recognized their mother's silver bracelet, the one he had found when he was searching for their parents in the Misty Mountains, the only memory they had of her. The pain flitted away to be replaced by a faraway sorrow that seemed to only make his eyes shine clearer.
Haldir found himself unwillingly drawn back into memories he would rather not visit. Images flashed across his mind, their vivid color and translucence startling him. He saw Orophin, still a small child, sitting in his lap and placing his tiny hands in Haldir's big ones, laughing as if it were the most joyous thing in the world. He remembered Orophin's adoring eyes as he begged to hold Haldir's bow, and his sulking ones as their mother gathered him up for a bath. Faces came and went. Their father, strong and built, their mother, willowy and kind. Rumil, when he was also younger, when he was full of mirth and love of life. Father...
They had left to travel to Imladris. They never returned.
Haldir searched with other Elves, scoured the paths they had taken, to no avail. He had found the only clue to their disappearance tossed to the side of the road, partially buried under the fine sand. The bracelet's clasp was broken, as if it had been violently wrenched from the wearer and thrown away in a struggle. The silver was dusty, but the tiny blood-red jewel glittered starkly in the niphredil pendant, glaring back at him as he fingered it, a heavy darkness settling over his heart. Afterwards, he had given up and trudged home, reluctant to tell his brothers of their parents' fates, burdened with grief and the prospect of having to raise Orophin.
Some days it had seemed like a greater responsibility than he could bear...
Haldir had held Orophin while he wept. Rumil went into the other room and slept for three days, refusing to eat or drink. His eyes became hollow and mysterious, and he withdrew into a comfortable place inside his soul where nothing could hurt him again. He did not speak for two months, until Haldir quietly gave him the bracelet and met his eyes. Rumil had been the closest of his brothers to their mother, and had inherited her slight frame and introspective intelligence, the gleam of which Haldir saw in the clouded emerald eyes before Rumil turned away again.
The memories began to fade now, and Haldir was stunned to taste warm salt on his lips. 'Pull yourself together,' he admonished himself. 'It has been centuries now.' He heaved a sigh and clumsily wiped a corner of the blanket across his cheeks, smearing wet over his face. He quickly glanced around to make sure none of the others had awakened, and his gaze lingered on the girl as she slept, the kitten precariously balanced on her forehead. He smiled sadly, and wondered what had become of her family. Would she ever find peace?
What frail threads of hope was she hanging on to?
He lifted himself from the floor with a quiet groan and stretched, his arms reaching skyward as he balanced on the balls of his bare feet. Without bothering to dress, he padded silently into the living room, rolling up the sleeves of his sleeping robe. He stopped before the small table beside the wicker chair and knelt. The table boasted two drawers with gilded handles, and the top one was used for keeping books. But it was the other to which Haldir's hand strayed, and slowly pulled open. He inhaled deeply as his hand reached inside and lifted out a single bowstring, a thin cord slightly frayed from wear, but still as strong as the day it was first stretched taut and released.
Haldir sat back and crossed his legs, his brow furrowed in thought, his eyes clouding over with fond memory. How he had begged and cajoled his poor father for that bowstring, for that chance to be taken along to the borders with the other archers, to prove himself after all the long years of training. It was from this bowstring that he had launched his first arrow as a member of the Guard of Lothlorien. He could still see the pride in his father's eyes, in his younger brothers' eyes, in his mother's eyes as he pulled his arm back and sighted along the shaft...
A soft noise behind him caused Haldir to jump and swing his head around. Orophin was standing there, also in his nightclothes, with an almost pained expression. His moon-leaf eyes glimmered in the rising dawn as he knelt down close to his beloved brother and gently took the string from his hands. Haldir placed his hand on the back of Orophin's head and drew him forward. The two brothers' foreheads touched, and both gazed down at the cord lying in Orophin's hands. Haldir sniffed.
"Do you remember much of them?"
Something in his brother's tone caused a piece of Orophin's heart to tear. He sighed, pulled back and grasped Haldir's hands. A sorrowful smile strained his lips as he met his brother's eyes.
"Mother had a smile like the sun in the morning, when it touches the dew and melts away the night. I remember she smiled a lot."
Haldir nodded and glanced down. Orophin stared off into the distance and continued.
"Father was brave and had big hands-" At this, Orophin turned Haldir's hands palm up and clasped them tighter. "And- and he always spoke of his sons and what great warriors they would become. He had a big lap."
Orophin managed a slightly brighter smile and tilted his head to look into Haldir's shiny eyes. Haldir finally glanced up and smiled weakly back.
"He and mother used to sing to us."
Orophin nodded.
"And Rumil would sit close to mother, and I to you, and you would let me hold your bow sometimes."
Now both brothers were smiling wistfully at the peaceful memory. Haldir half-chuckled.
"And then Rumil would grab you and tickle you on the floor until you could no longer breathe."
A laugh escaped from Orophin.
"I remember that well, trust me."
A heavy silence fell over the room as Haldir stroked the string absently before folding it and putting it back in the drawer. His hand lingered on the gold handle, and a dreammist came across his eyes. Orophin carefully helped his brother stand, and the two wandered back into the sleeping area. Delicate tendrils of gold spilled into the room from the small window and splashed on the still figures of Rumil and Danali, painting their blankets and hair in glitter.
Rumil, unaware of the transformation, turned to his other side with an almost inaudible sigh and lay still once more. Dulin mewed blearily, then jumped off Danali and yawned, her tiny pink tongue lolling out as if to catch the sundrops. Orophin grinned and swept her into his arms, then strode back into the kitchen to prepare the morning meal. As he entered, an object on the dining table caught his eye. He stopped and leaned in for closer inspection. His brow wrinkled, then lifted as his eyes widened. Was that what he thought it was?
He bent down and set Dulin on the floor, then walked over and took the small bow in his hands. A choke crawled up his throat as he recognized Rumil's old bow from when he was an Elfling. It had been Haldir's before that. He ran his hands along the smooth, polished wood, decorated with simple carvings of Elvish runes, then twanged the new string. Rumil guarded this piece of his childhood with his life. He would never allow anyone to touch it, much less use-
"He wants to teach her."
Haldir stepped away from the doorway and glided over to the table.
"She has demonstrated great skill in strange places. Now we shall see what sort of warrior she will make."
Orophin raised his eyebrows in disbelief, then placed the bow back on the table.
"We will see what the Lord Celeborn has to say about this after that incident with Daethil."
Haldir shrugged.
"He was the one who recommended it. He felt we should channel her abilities into something productive."
"Yes, but Rumil? And his precious bow? You know, I think he has even named it."
Haldir nonchalantly walked over to the cabinets and brought out a bowl of eggs.
"He was adamant. He wanted to teach her, so I told him to go ahead."
Orophin shook his head and plucked an apple from another bowl near the washbasin.
"Whatever. It's probably good for both of them anyway."
Haldir watched him saunter into the other room to dress and focused his attention on the eggs. He paused to mutter, "We can only hope so" before turning to light the fire and ready the oven.
In his dreams, Rumil heard his mother laugh as she lifted him into her lap to sing to him.
******
Ok, I wasn't trying to make this into a sappy tearfest type thing, but I kind of wanted to give a little background on the brothers for a change. I know their parents probably didn't die in the books, * ducks a large brick hurled by the Canon police * but Danali wasn't there either, and everyone seems to be okay with that..
