Title: "I've Tasted Love Beyond All Fear…"
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: There, there, chapter four is here. I took a break because school is getting very demanding. One last reminder: this story is AU, not canon. Timelines are disregarded or this story will not work.
Haldir looked with questioning eyes at Malenardhon, who seemed deep in thought as well.
Marchwarden Anar-galad had urgently called for a select number of the wardens of Lothlórien from their sentry as he would like to announce to them something.
"Adar would not call us off from duty for any simple reason at all," Haldir said as they swung their quivers on their backs and headed for Caras Galadhon on their horses. They came from the Northern Fences, and they have been traveling for more than a day just to attend their captain's meeting. "Why do I have so strange a feeling that this would turn out to be a war council?"
"Aye, with all the Orcs keeping us busy," Malenardhon sighed. "I had to double my arrows as I found out I nearly ran out of them once…they never advanced in such numbers that Sardomiel and Thangail were assigned to the same border as us."
He then locked his moss green eyes at his fellow companion. "Haldir, may I ask you a question? Would you mind if it's rather personal?"
Haldir looked back at him thoughtfully before he nodded.
"Why do you have the strength to call Marchwarden Anar-galad 'Adar', Haldir? I know you got over your grief a long time ago, since your brothers were still infants, but I cannot understand how…"
"You are not in my place, you cannot understand," Haldir said with an air of majestic mystery. "I doubt someone else does…except Naneth."
Malenardhon did not bother to interrogate him further. It has been long since Haldir's father, their very own Marchwarden, had left his mother Arthendion to lead the warriors of the Golden Wood, along with two of his sons, Rumil and Orophin, at that time still too young to understand. But it was different for Haldir; he was old enough to value. Malenardhon was relieved that the impacts of the old controversy had dimmed, that people hardly talk about it anymore; especially that Rumil and Orophin were now nearly in their majority. Though it may seem a great age to humans, they are still too young to be wardens of the active guard like their older brother Haldir…and may not be prepared enough to know the identity of their real father.
Not a word was spoken between Haldir and Malenardhon until they reached Caras Galadhon. They had been there once or twice…though for celebrations given by the Lord and the Lady were the main reasons. This one would surely, undoubtedly, be different…
Marchwarden Anar-galad took his place in the very center of the guardians of Lothlórien. He had with him a scroll made of very smooth paper under his arm, but Haldir noticed his face looked pensive. It was then did Haldir notice the change of his father physically since the last time he saw him. His face seemed to be as hard as stone, his dark eyes forthright and penetrating…the face sculpted by his duties. Anar-galad's son could hardly believe such face once smiled at the beautiful Elf that was his mother and taught him the basics of bow skill and handling Elven knives.
When all the wardens settled down on their designated places, the captain of the guardians spoke to them in a leveled voice.
"Evil has indeed taken form in Middle-Earth, since the fall of the Dark Lord Melkor. You have seen the signs in our very own borders: orcs setting our grasslands on fire and attempting to raid our beloved Lothlórien.
Sauron, the Deceiver, who had ordered the forging the Rings of Power, including Lady Galadriel's Nenya, now challenges the sovereignty of Middle-Earth, as he hath made himself a Ring to rule all the rings that were forged. The nine Kings of Men and the seven Lords of the Dwarves had succumbed to his power; it is now up to us, Elves, to bring him down."
Murmurs and agitated whispers began to break out in the assembly. Anar-galad held up a warning hand and once more silenced the crowd.
"Hence, we cannot do thus alone. Gil-galad, the High King of the Noldor, hath allied himself with King Elendil of Men. Along with them, and their forces, we will fight to liberate Middle-Earth. The lands which were once free but near the Land of Shadow had already fallen to the armies of the Dark Lord; it is up to us to fight and free the peoples of Middle-Earth or allow him to dominate our Lands!"
Beside him, Haldir heard a voice which he recognized as Thangail's whispering to the Elf opposite him, "Why fight, when we could just simply sail to the Undying Lands and leave trouble behind? And besides, Men brought doom to their own head by their easily corrupted hearts!"
Haldir longed to answer back to Thangail, but he controlled himself as he saw Anar-galad open the scroll which he carried with him.
"The War Council hath carefully decided on the wardens who are to take part on the War of Mordor. Those who will not go in with those wardens shall continue to protect and patrol our borders. We might expect Evil of all forms attacking us, though far we may be from the Dark Lands."
Gradually he began to read out names of those who will fight the war which were written in the scroll. Haldir wasn't surprised when he heard his name called, but Malenardhon was, as he was never as good at handling arrows and bows and swords as his close companion, and was often told by Master Hallador to practice over the training time.
After the very last name was called, Anar-galad rolled up the scroll and dismissed the multitude. Wardens, at once, began to talk among themselves and how they felt about going to war. Many, like Haldir and Malenardhon, haven't had experienced such warfare, and were rather not fearless.
As Haldir sat on his white and brown speckled horse, Malenardhon asked him, "What do thou reckon why they chose me to fight such a war? I am not good as you are..."
Haldir faced him with a warm look in his eyes as he said in reply, "So simple an answer, mellon. They believe in you; I believe in your capabilities. You are swift yourself, Malenardhon, you only have to discover that you can be as good as anyone else. Besides, I may not be the best warrior in the world; do not base your thinking entirely on my competences."
Malenardhon shrugged as he mounted his own steed. "I always thought you were."
Haldir could not help smiling out of his own pride. He was starting to appreciate others admiring his skill, if not his rank.
Just one more day, and we shall be marching off to the Pits of Mordor…marching perhaps to our doom…
"Haldir?"
Haldir blinked many times before being transported back to reality. He was under the shade of his favorite mallorn tree near the river Celebrant, contemplating on the upcoming war. He had hoped to take in the beauty of the fair wood that afternoon, in case he might not live to see them again. He looked to his right, and he couldn't help but smile to see his two younger brothers.
"Rumil," he addressed the younger one and gently squeezed the shoulder of the older, "Orophin, what made you seek me out?"
Orophin had smiled, bitterly though, and shrugged. Rumil had taken hold of Haldir's hand and grasped it tightly, as though he expected him to run off any moment from now. Haldir was surprised to see them this tense, this troubled. He slowly steered them into a sitting position below the golden tree before asking.
"What troubles you so? Can I be of any help?"
Orophin fastened his young eyes, as grey as his older brother's, on Haldir. "You're going off to the war tomorrow."
"Who knows what might befall our older brother and best confidant?" Rumil added miserably. His eyes were downcast and it was clear that he was trying to hold back his tears.
Haldir's heart softened considerably. He each wrapped an arm around his siblings and held them together. Rumil rested his head on Haldir's shoulder and out spilled his tears from his smoky gray eyes, wetting Haldir's silvery hair. Orophin, too, laid his magnificent head against Haldir's shoulder, but he kept his emotions at bay, which Haldir thought was appropriate.
Allowing Haldir to stroke his platinum locks, Rumil sniffed, trying to do away with his tears. "Who's going to help us train now?"
"Rumil, Rumil," Haldir had answered soothingly, "Who says your oldest brother shall be gone forever once he enters Mordor? And besides, Naneth is still there for you in case…"
It was now Orophin's turn to speak. "Promise us, Haldir that when the war is over, you shall return to us safe and sound."
"Orophin…" Haldir considered going against his brothers. After all, Arthendion herself had counseled him to always be prepared, as fate is unpredictable, and more often than not, against our wishes.
"Please, Haldir, promise us!" Rumil piped up, clutching at Haldir's grey tunic and burying his young Elven face in his brother's long silvery locks.
"Brothers," Haldir said in an attempt to struggle out of the subject, "we can never know what Vairë weaves in her threads of fate…"
Rumil and Orophin, however, were not so eager to let go of Haldir that easily. Orophin took Haldir's left hand and squeezed it pleadingly, saying, "Please, brother, if it is the last thing you would do…"
"Assure us, Haldir," Rumil said determinedly, looking up from Haldir's hair. "Assure us that you shall come back to us safe and sound, without any injuries so serious…Please, for the sake of Naneth and us, promise to us, Haldir!"
It troubled his heart greatly to see his siblings this distraught. He was even struck when Rumil mentioned their mother. I'd better talk to her later and say my farewells…
Haldir rubbed his fingers against that of his brothers comfortingly before finally giving in to them.
"I promise, Rumil, Orophin, that I shall return to you in one piece."
Rumil had smiled again at Haldir's choice of words, but a more concerned Orophin still had on an expression of outmost seriousness.
"We will hold you on to that promise," Orophin had said.
"And you shall, indeed," Haldir replied. He then pulled them both up and asked, "Perhaps a little sparring shall brighten up your spirits, brothers? I'm always ready for a game." They all laughed as one and agreed. Many an afternoon they had used their skills on each other and Haldir had patiently taught them all the skills he learned from Anar-galad. Arthendion sometimes even accompanied them, and even helped her eldest tutor her younger sons. Haldir, though he had no reason to do so, was surprised to see his mother's fun-loving side he had never known before.
Ai, Adar, they need you too, you know. No one but you can teach them most effectively… Haldir thought to himself as he unsheathed his sword and ducked a swing of Orophin's metal blade. They all took turns sparring with each other, and it was pure fun yet also a wonderful learning experience. Blocking a sword thrust from his younger brother with his own blade, Haldir smiled to himself; that was an impressive one from Orophin. Just wait until they advance to the active guard…we might even understand each other better, then.
Arthendion gently stroked her eldest son's platinum locks as his head rested on her lap. Haldir let her do so, marveling at how gentle her fingers were, still, after handling three elflings and striving to make two of them live a normal life without their father. Her face was beautiful still, but sad. Her dark locks framed her meditative and wan face like a veil, giving her an air of mystery. Haldir felt her loneliness as the years came to pass since Anar-galad left her, and it increased with each year that came. It was, however, not enough to make her fade away. She clung on to her sons to sustain the breath of life in her body.
"Naneth, I feel this is too early for this to happen," Haldir whispered for her ears alone. He squeezed one of her smooth hands affectionately and kissed it out of a son's admiration and respect for his mother. "I feel I am too young to do this… I don't want to leave you, Orophin and Rumil. Yet I know duty calls…"
Arthendion smiled sincerely, but Haldir could read the unhappiness in her eyes. She became more desolate from her people as the years came to pass, and seldom was her singing voice and captivating laughter heard in the woods.
"You have proven to me that you are no longer the mallorn sapling I knew you were. I am gladdened that you kept my teachings to heart," she replied. Then she sighed and temporarily stopped her stroking of her son's silken hair. "You have indeed grown into a majestic mallorn. You have strong roots and you don't need my post of support for you to stay on your feet. I can finally rest."
At these words, Haldir sat up to face his mother. He gently placed a finger under her chin and lifted her beautiful face to meet his. Arthendion's face was perfectly neutral; Haldir shivered, for the absence of her smile made her look like a hard-faced warrior who went through many a battle.
"Please, Naneth, speak not of passing across the Sea!" Haldir pleaded. "Think of Orophin and Rumil, they need you too! You held on to us all these years; please, you can't let go now! Why now, Naneth?"
Arthendion pulled her gaze away from him sharply, as tears made their way down her haggard cheeks. "Haldir, you are powerless over me! You have tried, all those years, to alleviate my pain, but my son, it runs deeper than you can ever imagine! It seems that hanging on to you and your brothers is not enough. I love you, Haldir, do not get me wrong. I know you do love me, too, but hope is weak on me! I feel my end is near. If you chose to go to Mordor, so be it. But I cannot promise I'll be here to welcome you back."
Haldir was stunned to hear his mother speak like this. She never seemed so hopeless, so desperate. She then turned to him and placed a hand on his cheek.
"Haldir, the pain shall engulf me if I stay in Middle Earth. If I ought to go to Mandos' Halls, then so be it. May the Valar lead me to a place where Anar-galad and I be together as we were before…Haldir, please take care of your brothers. I love them no less than I love you. Maybe someday we can be a full family again…someday. Farewell!
I send you no advice, for I know not the bitterness or the horror of war. All I could send is my love for you. I believe you shall live, and I now let you go from my control. I love you. May Elbereth's grace be on your side, my love."
Haldir was pondering on what his mother just said. In a few hours, he would be preparing to march to Gorgoroth with the rest of the army. Sitting under his favorite mallorn tree beside the river, he took the time to try to understand Arthendion's message. What did she mean by her farewell? Is she foresighted enough to foresee her own doom? Had she finally begun to fade? And if so, why now, of all the years?
A strong yet gentle hand on his shoulder drove Haldir from his daydreams. He looked up and did not conceal his amazement to see Anar-galad looking back at him. How did he come to be there? His approach was so stealthy that Haldir did not even notice him.
"Adar…" Haldir muttered. To his surprise, his father let out a sigh that almost broke his heart.
"Haldir, you still call me your father?" said he. "How can you do so? I would prefer to be called a traitor."
Haldir stood up to be level with Anar-galad. He made it a point to look straight into his father's eyes, which were as grey as his. Anar-galad did not look away.
"Ada, how could you say such things? Without you, your sons would never have been born! Without you, Naneth would never have found a home where she feels accepted and loved!"
At the mention of Arthendion, Anar-galad placed a hand on his son's hair, gently caressing it in a father's way. He smiled, though very sadly and there was guilt imprinted clearly in his eyes.
"Arthendion, I loved all these years, son. I speak the truth; I still do. Yet centuries ago, before Rumil was born, I was blinded by my rank, and it was only when I saw you and your mother helping train Orophin and Rumil many a morning and many an evening did I realize what I have thrown away. My mistake, I realized. Yet my guilt was deep, and it prevented me from asking for forgiveness. I also considered the fact that my reputation as Marchwarden was at stake. Yet at what cost? I tried to say goodbye to your mother, Haldir. Yet she shunned me and fled, sobbing. Her grief stabbed my heart deeply; it went back to me double. I should have gone back to you. I shouldn't have…"
Anar-galad broke off. Haldir placed his arms around his father's trembling form with the comforting words, "Ada, we still love you no matter who you are."
Anar-galad moved his head to face his son's. "I can see the sincerity in your eyes, my son. I love you and your brothers, too. My hear contracts in pain upon seeing Orophin and Rumil being so close by yet they know me as their Marchwarden, not as their father. I have so wished…"
Haldir silenced his father with the words. "Ada, when this war is over, we shall reveal to them who you really are. They have the right to know, yet I will not do so unless it is of your will. Please Adar, make up with Naneth. Your love is all that she ever wanted."
"I know," Anar-galad said, cupping Haldir's face with one hand. "I shall pay for the consequences of my actions. May Elbereth lend me the strength to see my beloved Arthendion again. You have inherited her bow skills, Haldir. I have seen you in your training, and I am pleased that you have exceeded my expectations.
Yet, son, I would like to tell you that I am grateful to you and your mother. Thank you letting me taste love in a time of fear. Arthendion is my heart and my soul, and once I return, I shall never abandon her."
Will Haldir's family be reunited again?