Title: "You Asking as Little as You Can…"

Author: Nefertili

Fandom: Lord of the Rings

Pairing(s): none

Rating: PG13

Genre(s): Angst, AU

Warning(s): No slash this time…it is replaced by bits and pieces of violence and insults in the other chapters.

Summary: A glimpse on Haldir's past, and what he has long hidden from the world in his face of indifference.

Author's notes: Don't be disappointed if you are not a slash fan. But if you are…read my other fics instead. This is the 'didactic essay' I mentioned in my biography. I strongly appreciate constructive criticisms, but don't flame me please. Nearly all the stuff here is my own making, though they belong to no other than Tolkien. This fic, too, is inspired by the Miss Saigon song, 'I'd Give My Life For You'. As you will notice, all the chapter titles are lines from the song.

**********

Shortly after his father was appointed the Marchwarden of Lórien, it took Haldir some time for him to be in control with the changes he never knew this very event can bring. Arthendion never smiled a confirmed smile since her husband began his duties. She even seemed to have lost her youth and the glow in her gorgeous slivery sapphire eyes that was in her prime, she looked just like any other Elf…any other unfortunate Elf.

Haldir paid a visit to his mother nearly every day hoping that she might regain her bliss and vitality, but his prospects were not high. No matter what he did to enliven Arthendion, all that he secures is a faint, faded smile, and an indignant one at that.

Once or twice, the young guardian caught glimpses of his father, Anar-galad during one of his watches, but he never saw him during his visits to his parents' talan nor ever asked him if he ever comprehended Arthendion's uncommonly anguished outlook, whether it hath a connection with his being Marchwarden of the Golden Wood. Haldir, himself, out of his understanding of his father, noticed that he seemed rather as though he hath not a close acquaintance in the whole ample lands of Middle-Earth and…different.

He could not, however, fully understand why he never really took the advantage to speak with his father face to face, as though some discouraging a force was preventing him from doing so, something like… distrust and a flash of abhorrence.  

Deep inside, however, Haldir of Lothlórien was deeply hurt. He loved his mother very much, had he not loved anyone as strong since the present, and he couldn't stand to see Arthendion so stricken with grief without him being at her side to give comfort or solitude. Him being as useless as a worthless lump of sawdust in circumstances such as this one hurt his self-respect deeply, as well as a part of him that was only for his mother. 

**********

"Aye, such feeling so perturbing and troubling I hath never experienced during the thousand years I have spent my life with."

Haldir inadvertently muttered the string of words to himself as he quietly, capably undid the half-braids of his long hair that was reaching down his shoulder blades. It had brightened slightly from its flashing mithril-silver luster to a fair very light golden colour that strongly rivals the glint of the shining sun in the limitless heavens as he gradually reached his existing age…but his spirit and being had not changed at all, or perhaps darkened.

"Why can't have things stayed the same? Why can't things be the way I hoped it would be…a lot more bearable one?" Haldir nearly shouted, without anyone to answer him back or to contradict him.

He was overtaken with resentment at the thought so upsetting that it was a long time before he got a strong, secure hold of himself. Haldir found out at the same time that he ended up knotting the end of one undone plait to a gristly, tough cluster with his fury that his hands were shaking with anger.

"Do you have to add to my troubles as well?" The warden of Lothórien whispered to himself in an aggravated breath as Haldir irately pulled at his lustrous hair to undo the knotted part, hardly noticing the searing pain his action did to his scalp; the inexperienced custom that his life chose to take in the past provided much more burning a pain than that of now.

The Marchwarden unraveled the knot with great effort, though he hardly cared whether his scalp or his hair would break loose out of his angry force of pull. And as he pushed the disentangled hair at the back of his pointed ears, Haldir put his weight against the smooth mallorn bough, and he seemed to find ease and comfort from the action.

He felt as though the Golden Trees and the wind letting out its weary sighs and breaths all understood his need for consolation. The air began to blow gently and quietly altered some of the mallorn's leafy arms to be positioned above him.

"Adar…Naneth…if only you didn't go astray from the untroubled path you chose to walk long before…" Haldir muttered even though he knew no answer can come from around him and appease his troubled sense of right and wrong…it seemed as though old foundations of distress, old sentiments, seemed to go back to him with consequences double than the way they had touched and changed his life thousands of years ago.    

**********

Haldir was occupied with the task of carving his own arrows. He took the time to busy himself with something to keep his thoughts at bay, as he still was troubled about his family's unusual feeling of isolation from each other and can hardly carry on with his usual routines.

The galadhrim sighed as he focused on his work. His kith and kin made their arrows out of pieces of rough wood taken from a nature of tree which strongly resembles their own mallorn, only its grains were darker and more of the color of unblemished dark gold interspersed with bands of rich auburn, not to mention it was easier to handle than the prodigious wood of the mallorns. He proficiently ran the blade of one of his Elven knives over the formless broken stem until it took the shape of a straight, evenly rounded branch. He then fastened the point, which was made of a metal which was golden in colour, but as strong as steel on one end of the arrow. Haldir finally then affixed several fine-looking, gracefully curved feathers taken from a well-built, dazzling white bird that made its home near Lothlórien on the other end to finish the arrow.

This Haldir kept doing this until he heard another Elf calling to him from below his talan. He placed his finished arrows in his quiver and returned the knife back to its gilded metal hilt then looked down from his dwelling to see who was giving him company. It was the least expected one he thought would see him: his very own trainer, Hallador. Haldir did not know his purpose of coming; he knew Hallador did not call for any meeting with him during his last training assembly. Hence he respectfully asked, "Please tell your apprentice what hath brought you to his own abode, Master Hallador."

Hallador seemed too overwrought and impatient to answer in the same refined manner as Haldir, his novice. "Hasten, son of Anar-galad! Your mother, Arthendion has labored and given birth; you ought to come to her and share her jubilation!"

Haldir was filled with enthusiasm as well. Of course, his mother, as he had known, was with life in her womb, and he had been trying to guess if he will have a brother as Orophin or a sister since she had conceived shortly after Orophin had reached his first year.

But he couldn't resist but experience uncertainty and ask himself, Share Naneth's jubilation? Will it be that the arrival of my new elfling sibling would end all the laments Naneth is living through as of now?     

This somber and miserable thought, however, didn't affect or dim his anticipation. Without even bothering to tidy up his talan from the pieces of stray golden-brown wood and white feathers that were scattered all around his place, he lost no time in descending his hithlain ladder so hurriedly that Hallador was looking at him with anxiety in his stormy grey eyes, as though expecting him to plunge to the hard ground as he took his next step.

Haldir ran with his trainer by his side to his mother and father's talan. He saw his mother's friend, Beinaras, also the twin sister of Hallador, by Arthendion's side as he reached the dwelling.

"Naneth…" was all Haldir managed to say out of his mouth because of exhilaration more than exhaustion as he paused for a while on the last step of the hithlain ladder. Haldir finally took his seat near the entrance of the talan, fixedly looking at his mother, though he only saw her beautiful wavy hair darker than the night skies and the depths of the ultramarine and turquoise sea spilling out from her shoulders to her slender back. 

"Haldir, young galadhrim, your Naneth is all right, as well as your new sibling," Beinaras affirmed Haldir gently as Hallador knelt beside his novice. It was then did Haldir realize that she was holding his younger brother, Orophin, as Arthendion was holding another elfling in her arms. Beinaras made no mention whether Haldir had a new brother or sister. She made it seem to the youthful warrior that Beinaras was taking her pleasure at making him guess whether his new sibling was male or female.

Finally, Arthendion turned to look at her eldest son. Haldir was relieved to see her face, for once in the course of the days, free from all traces of despondency and seclusion. For a son who had not seen his mother in a jovial atmosphere for a long time, this was great joy.

Then he saw a bald head visible from all the white, silky blankets she was cradling in her subtle arms; the newborn's eyes were still closed. Haldir couldn't help but approach his mother out of inquisitiveness and softly stroke his sibling's pale head.

"Haldir!" he heard Hallador command from behind him. Haldir couldn't help but feel a glint of frustration. Why would Master Hallador think of me inflicting injury on my newborn brother…or sister?

"Allow him, Hallador," Arthendion said with a smile, as though she could read the thoughts of her eldest. "He is no longer the elfling as you, we, or I knew him, and he demands the proper respect."

Haldir's pastel-hued cheeks slightly turned red from his mother's remark as he slowly knelt beside Arthendion. His mother then smiled softly as she said to Haldir, "Your new brother looks just like Orophin."

A new brother then, Haldir thought as he looked at Beinaras and Hallador playing with the young Orophin, who was reaching out to them with his short arms and chortling gaily. He was learning to speak more complicated words and had grown silvery blond hair like his father at the same time.

Just like his father.

"And speaking of…" Haldir muttered, startled by the thought. "Where is Adar?" He expected that his brother's birth may mean a reunion of his family, a chance to renew their bonds and understand what his mother was really going through.

But with this simple question, it made Haldir regret that he had ever solicited it, for the matter wiped the smile off his mother's face. Hallador and Beinaras themselves lost all traces of the smiles on their faces and hung their heads in a dismal manner. Orophin, alarmed by the sudden lack of life, pulled at Beinaras' golden locks for attention.

"Anar-galad…" Arthendion uttered in a voice as though all hope had left her, while stroking her elfling who began to snuggle her and suck at her breast. "Is he really not coming? I am not even sure of what to call our new son yet without him…" She broke off, her eyes turning misty. Hallador looked indecisively at his sister, who, as she freed her hair from Orophin's lighthearted clutch, shook her head as hopelessly as she had when one of her trainees entirely gave up her teaching several centuries ago.

"Why don't we call him Rumil? I'm sure Adar won't mind, will he, Naneth?" Haldir asked uncertainly and broke the uncanny silence, hoping that his mother might be distracted from the thought of his father. He affectionately placed an encouraging hand on his mother's arm.

She thought for a long while on Haldir's suggestion on her newborn son's naming. (The Sindarin word mil means love and affection just as hal, from which Haldir's name was derived, means tall and elevated.) Arthendion smiled despondently at her son, though she replied, "Of course…Rumil….my child… my young Rumil." She mildly patted the cheek of her youngest as she said her words, though her face remained dark.

But until then, Haldir could not fathom why anything could be more precious to his father, Anar-galad, than them, his very own family. He, after all the smiles and hopes he put in building his own family, would not even come to his wife's aid on giving birth.

Haldir wondered and was distraught by the thought on how his youngest brother, Rumil, will respond to this when he found out in his future years, after all his father had promised to his sons, would not even celebrate his birth.   

**********

Malenardhon watched his comrade with confusion and annoyance in his eyes. "Arthendion does not deserve such a thing, to be ignored! How could your father offer neglect to your mother in return for giving him a son?"

Haldir sighed desperately as he rested his body against the smooth trunk of the familiar mallorn that offered the two wardens shade and solace during their daily watches.  He looked impassively at the fields of swaying grass that danced in rhythm with the wind. "I can't help but pity Naneth. She is most brokenhearted when she found out Adar did not come to her side when she could have died from the birth and labor…worse, she hath my two brothers to care for."

"Can't anyone…preferably Master Hallador's sister…take care of Rumil and Orophin for her?"

"Mistress Beinaras has her own learners to govern; you know those brother and sister, they are the most trusted warrior trainers of the Lord Celeborn and the Lady Galadriel. She cannot set her duties aside for the happiness of one other fellow Elf; though I must admit she seemed eager to serve the part. Mother herself, though, not unkindly turned down the offer. She was unwavering on her word that she will be the one to care for her own fruit of love…"

Haldir paused for a while and closed his eyes. He then looked back at Malenardhon as he said in a voice no livelier than the first, "Malenardhon…my heart can't resist but wonder how he is now, my Adar, whether he felt pleasurable or cheerless to have Rumil born to him…if only I can talk to him about this and put an end to all this misunderstanding…My thoughts have never left my Naneth's side since he became Marchwarden…"

Malenardhon then placed a soothing hand on his close acquaintance's shoulder, though his face was as unpromising as his. He then said with utter dejection in his voice, "Haldir, I, in actual fact am very sorry to tell you something…but I know it is the right time. Do you wish to hear it told?"

Haldir faced Malenardhon, apparently thinking deeply. After a moment of stillness, he readily nodded. "If it will ameliorate things for me, be it so."

Malenardhon took a deep breath and began, "I knew from the very start all the pain torment you are experiencing from the disregard of your father to you and the rest of your family, and as far as you know, I have a brother who is just a new recruit as well, Sardomiel. He sometimes gets the opportunity to join your father in his sentinels, and I made him talk to Anar-galad about what's occurring to you and Arthendion, that he ought to go back to you and your brothers instead of living in a solitary talan-"

"He is living by himself…in another talan?" Haldir asked bitterly, remembering in the same moment Anar-galad's suggestion that he be single-handed when he started his duties. "I never made that out… Did mother ever know about it?"

"She does, by all means, as Marchwarden Anar-galad sent me myself to tell her that," Malenardhon replied. "Only she did not dare mention it to you, for your sake. Back to my narrative, oh…I am really very sorry, but your father…he…he did not-"

"He did not do what?" Haldir asked, his patience wearing thin, though he knew the answer just the same. "I am prepared to hear it, even if it will gash my spirit; Malenardhon, I cannot wait any longer!"

Malenardhon slowly, gradually continued, "Captain Anar-galad refused Sardomiel and-and he even said he ought not the right to order him such a thing. My brother had to endure such a cold attitude from him since then…"

Haldir bowed his head forlornly. "Why did you not tell me from the start, Malenardhon? Are we not good acquaintances?"

The other Elf replied gradually, "I know you are courageous, Haldir, I always do, but it occurred to me I might worsen the situation of yours if I hurt you with my words."

"But…" Haldir tried to go against Malenardhon, but he abstained from doing the act, and instead said, "I apologize for having caused so much turmoil on you and Sardomiel…You were taking care of things that should have been handled by me."

All his feelings, anger at his father for giving more aid to his watches rather than his own mother and sons, distressing feelings for Anar-galad not to trust him for many things he should have bestowed on his sons and pity…pity for his father for having to live a life on his own began to be in chaos all inside him as a tree's braches thrash against each other in a storm.

"Do Naneth, Orophin, Rumil and I, if truth be told, mean so diminutive to him, Malenardhon? Why did he abandon us? We were just there…doing all that we can to ask as little a goodwill from him as possible…"

Malenardhon opened his mouth to contradict Haldir, but he directly postponed his actions and words when he saw tears brimming in his friend's eyes. He comfortingly placed his arms around the grieving form of Haldir as he muttered, "I am sorry; I knew I shouldn't have…"

But Haldir turned him away and smiled with obscurity as he tilted back his head to withhold his tears, saying, "No, I am the one who should thank you for doing all those favors for me. I know I should be of awareness of such things…"

Malenardhon searched his friend's face and said fervently, "Your father may not have abandoned you out of animosity or any other hard feeling, Haldir. He still loves you, your brothers and Arthendion; you just have to tell him your real mind-set thoughts about what he had done; being his son, he is sure to listen to you, not like to Sardomiel or to any of us, whom he has no real connection with."

But Haldir's answer was as cold and hard as the stones that lie on the very face of the snowing mountain of Caradhras. "If Adar wasn't open enough to even say his own individual plans to Naneth on his own, and hath to forward it to her through a messenger, what more openness will he show if he will have to listen to his own son?"   

Haldir, having set his jaw, agonizingly went down the mallorn in unhurried and miserable steps and went away with his eyes cast down, and Malenardhon did not have the courage speak for him to return or to restrain him. 

**********

Have you ever felt like Haldir in this chapter? Well, to be honest, I just plucked them from my imagination, so I have definitely not experienced such neglect. So sorry if it goes against the 'facts'.