Disclaimer: I own none of the Lord of the Rings Materiel.

Avari Min

(Unwilling One)

"Five, four, three, six!" Haldir called out instructions as he walked through the flashing swords of ranks of young Galadhrim.

The positioning of the ellyns and elleths was close to simulate the fray of a battle. The point and thrust of metal on metal and the perfect formation of their movements allowed just enough room for Haldir to walk through the ranks safely. Every soldier was aware that one slip could cause harm not just to one of their fellow Galadhrim, but their captain as well.

"Four, three six!" he called out the orders in a clear ringing tone that was just loud enough to hear above the sound of thirty elves moving in perfect unison in the deadly training for battle.

But today all of the trainees were aware that their captain's mind was else where other then the sand courts of the training ground. Ferevellon and his sparing partner were trading quiet comments as they met each other's attacks. Pilindiel was one of the few elleths that joined the ranks of the Galadhrim, but she was one of the most superior swordsmen of the entire detachment of trainees.

Matched with Ferevellon, Pilindiel was meeting with the first challenging encounter that she had come across beside that of the Warden himself. But even then she and Ferevellon had time to chat.

"He looks rather peaky doesn't he?" Ferevellon said whirling his sword around to clash with Pilindiel's, "They say he had bad news."

"Do you listen to idle gossip?" Pilindiel asked a delicate brow arched.

Ferevellon grinned, "Only when it's as interesting as this is. Don't let your guard down on the left or you'll leave an opening big enough to gut you."

"I know that," Pilindiel growled, "You have a habit of baring your right shoulder too quickly after the forward thrust of movement five."

Ferevellon smiled but ignored her, "What do you suppose the problem is?"

"I think that whatever it is he'd tell us if it was really so important." She answered.

At that moment Haldir called a halt to their exercises.

"Break into pairs for one on one sparing," he called. As the Galadhrim milled about finding partners for the next match Haldir noticed Lord Celeborn standing a few feet away watching the processes. The sylvan lord had never quite grown into the skin of being the greatest ruler of elves in Middle Earth. At times when he was not needed by his lady he sent with the Galadhrim.

Now, standing there, assigning their movements and clothed in the same nondescript tunic they all wore, Celeborn looked not a lord but a warrior. On his hip he wore a broad sword of marvelous make and delicate bracers around his wrists. With his arms crossed over his chest and his brow furrowed in concentration, he looked more formidable then he usually did.

Haldir nodded, "My lord, have you come to spare this afternoon?"

Celeborn shook his head, "Nay, only if you feel the need to smash something about. I'd hate to see you trying to match with one of these poor souls."

"They will be first rate swordsmen by the time their training is finished," Haldir commented, "In any case; I have no wish to smash things."

Celeborn put is head on one side and said, "But you're not happy with Galadriel's request that you wait before going back to Pellis."

"I do not see what the difference a few weeks would make my lord," Haldir said, his eyes focused away on the solider, "I respect your wife as none other, but there are times when I wish that…" Haldir stopped remembering to whom he was speaking, "Forgive me, my lord I shouldn't have spoken so."

Celeborn laughed and clapped a hand on his captain's shoulder, "Haldir you are only saying what many have thought but do not have the honesty to say. Galadriel would be the first one to admit that she isn't the easiest person to know or understand. But she is far seeing and her interests in your case a great."

"But why must I wait?" Haldir's voice was tenses, "I have lived for thirty years believing that my son was dead. Now I discover that he lives and I may not go to him. Celeborn, I am worried for him choice."

Celeborn sighed, his expression suddenly tired and knowing, "It must be very difficult for you. When Amroth was killed I thought that everything had closed in on us, that there was no going on except to Valinor. But we waited, as you must, and our decision to remain changed so many things in the world's history that I am grateful that we stayed."

"Even when Celebrian was taken?" Haldir asked brutally.

"Even though she was taken," Celeborn answered coolly, "Her marriage with Elrond, the birth of the twins and Undomiel may mean the difference between the strength of the world to carry on. There is nothing I regret in staying, Celebrian's kidnapping had nothing to do with it. You're bitterness is poorly aimed Warden."

"Forgive me," Haldir turned away.

The soldiery were all waiting on him to give the next order; their faces blank, as if they did not know their captain and Lord were disagreeing rather heatedly.

"Assume attack positions!" Haldir ordered, "Remember that this fight is to be for the duration for two hours so conserve your strength for the end of the battle. There will be times when the last few minutes in an encounter will determine whether you live or die. Therefore, watch for opportunities to use your opponent's weaknesses against them, make them work their hardest to get at you. Give nothing to them that you will not gain more then fifty percent back from them."

Celeborn's face was a perfect mask at this, but his mind was turning over the Warden's words and his tone and the body language that he was showing. Celeborn had practically raised Haldir and his brother's when their father had been murdered two thousands years ago. It was a common trouble with Haldir that he bound up every feeling in a tight reign; it was his strength and his weakness to keep his emotions in check.

"When the time is called be prepared, give no ground," Haldir scanned the figures of the Galadhrim and everyone was staring their opponent in the face, ready to spring.

"Begin!"

As the sounds of swords once again filled the air Haldir turned to his liege lord.

"My lord I am sincerely sorry for my rash words. I beg that you will forgive me," Haldir said.

Celeborn looked at his warden and saw the turmoil behind the cool, controlled mask of his features, "I know Haldir. I know. I think I will take charge of this session though, you go and take some time to speak with Galadriel, and it may be that you can change her mind."

Haldir offered a weak smile, "My lord, even the youngest elf in Lothlorien knows that you are the only one who can do that. But thank you, I think I will. I find myself fatigued lately."

As Haldir turned to go Celeborn stopped him, "Remember my son, it is alright to weep a little."

Haldir did not look at him, but gave a nod and went on.

"Haldir, I did not look for you today," Galadriel greeted the warden, "Did my husband send you?"

"Yes and no," Haldir answered, "I wanted to come and he encouraged it."

Galadriel looked at Haldir and smoothed her gown with one pale hand, "You are troubled by my decision, I know."

Haldir looked away and Galadriel thought she had seen tears in his eyes for a moment. But when he spoke his voice was calm and collected.

"I never thought that he was alive. I never suspected that they lied to me. How could they have lied to me my lady? How could they have such hatred for me that they would decisive me into believing my son had died?"

Galadriel sighed and began leading the way through the garden. The jasmine was in full bloom and the air was heavy with its fragrance. Haldir walked beside the lady, her hand resting in his arm and anyone passing might have thought they were mother and son.

"Thirty years is not an eternity Haldir," she reminded him.

"Not to the Halfelven," was his quiet reply, "From what Rumil has told me of Eleyond he has not yet made his choice. I doubt he even knows that he has one."

"Eleyond," Galadriel tasted the name on her tongue and smiled, "So you wish to run away to Rohan and tell him. And you think he will automatically choose the elven kin? He had grown to manhood among the Edain, his heart will be with them."

"He is of elven blood none the less," Haldir said, "Lord Elrond often said that even if he had not know of his parentage he would have ever felt the call of our people in his blood."

"Granted," Galadriel replied, "Yet, he did know as Eleyond must. But think Haldir, his family has kept him secret all of these years even from my sight. Do you think they have not spoken against you? If you were to rush in and try to win him back suddenly you may awake their and his greatest fears."

Haldir stopped, "I did not know what reaction my arrival might bring. Perhaps they will shun me, perhaps he already hates me, perhaps I will go and return empty handed. But," and his voice grew desperate, "I will have seen him, even if only for a moment. I will know he is alive and he will know that as soon as I knew of him I came. Whatever may happen I must go to Eleyond, he is my son and I as I failed his mother; I will die before I fail him."

Galadriel considered his profile, the tense jaw, the bright eyes and stubborn chin.

"I wonder if he looks as you do?" she mused aloud, "If he does you will have to tell me when you return."

Haldir stopped, joy flashing in his eyes, "My lady? Do you give me leave to go to him then?"

Galadriel laid a gentle hand on Haldir face and for a moment spoke to his mind, "I give you leave and all my heart to go. But remember, I have let you go for only a short time. You must not try to convince your son to come or stay but let him make his own choice. Let some other that you trust speak to him of that choice and you say no word of it. That is my condition."

"It is a small enough thing to ask," Haldir took her hand and kissed the palm, "Thank you."

As Haldir strode away from the Lady, she watched him go. Many had been the times when she had wished that he would find his happiness once again, but now she worried. Perhaps he would be rejected by his son; such a rejection may be the final breaking point for him. But then, Eleyond may welcome Haldir with open arms and a ready heart. A father and son together.

That was what Galadriel feared most of all.

Pellis had not changed over the thirty years since Haldir had been there. The village was still smaller then most, and the house still looked as though they would fall over in the slightest wind, but there were the same houses and it was the same village he had known.

Tess' village.

Since her death Haldir had never returned to Pellis, there was no reason. When she had died her family had made it clear they would rather never see him again, they blamed him for her death. But they had also lied to him.

The thought made Haldir's lips form a thin line and his hands tightened on his reins. The idea that nearly thirty years had passed in his son's life and they had kept it hidden was more then wrong, it was evil. The pain of loss that he had experienced had nearly torn him in two. When Tess died he felt part of himself go with her, but when he knew that their son had died as well.

Valinor's shores had beckoned then. Only his brother's reminder that he was needed in Lothlorien had given him a reason to stay. Even then he had spent the next twenty years walking in a kind of living death. Each day he had lived and functioned, but he did so like an automaton. His face and body were there but he was locked away with his grief for many, many years.

When the break had come for him it came with such a jolt that he was never able to go back to that cold reserve again. The desire to withdraw had disappeared, and a new determination was born. He lived for his brothers and his soldiers and the Lady and her Lord, ad that was enough. Now this miracle had happened, Haldir couldn't help but wonder what else would change.

"She died," Castien said his voice breaking pathetically but his face hard as tears streamed down it, "She died calling for you, and you never came. You never came or sent word or let her know that you were even alive!'

"Castien, I sent word as often as I was able to do so," Haldir said desperately, he didn't allow himself to realize the finality of what his father in law had said, "I sent word by royal carrier more time then I can count."

"Then why didn't we ever hear from you? Not one message or letter or token came into her hands. You elves think that humans don't fade, but they do," Castien voice cracked savagely, "They do, I watched her wither away into a shadow before my very eyes and there was nothing I could do!"

"Don't" Haldir whispered the word before he realized he spoke aloud. Rumil turned to glance at him but seeing that Haldir hadn't meant to be over heard pretended to check on the soldiery behind them.

Haldir cleared his throat and fired out his instructions for the evening to the men. While they were residing in any village they would, as a courtesy, protect the people. Most villages had little or no warning against any kind of invader and it was a small miracle that they hadn't all been killed in some raid over the years.

"Ferevellon take you men to the east and Erethon to the west. Orophin, Rumil you know where to go. Remember to keep you men well hidden and have as little connect with the humans as possible," Haldir said, "They are more wary of us here then in recent years and we do not wish to cause any undue alarm. While I am away Captain Orophin will be in command. That is all,"

Haldir dismissed them

"When will you go?" Orophin asked, "They not expecting anyone, and there maybe danger in you're going alone. Besides, they may not wish to see you again."

"I understand that," Haldir answered, his deep blue eyes scanning the horizon where the village was nestled, "But I would rather not face them for the first time with you by my side. They do not know you and I would prefer to keep a certain level of anonymity, especially if this meeting is unsuccessful."

Orophin studied his brother's profile for along moment, "He will know you Haldir, right away. I know it. He will not be able to help but know you."

Haldir glanced at Orophin as he strapped his sword onto his belt, "It is not that that I am afraid of Orophin, I am afraid of what they have told him."

"Castien, you may want to come out here," Elonde called from the doorway, "More elves from Lothlorien."

The tanner looked up sharply, "Where is Eleyond?"

"Out in the practice field with the men. Shall I send someone out to keep him away?" Elonde asked nervously. She shifted from foot to foot and twilled her dirty apron in her fingers.

The tanner wiped his stained hands on a rag and swore soundly and fully under his breath, "I tell you that if they think that they can come and take Tess's boy from us like that just because he's elven blood in his veins I swear."

"Oh please don't" Elonde said, "I don't want any trouble between us and them. Tess loved Haldir, you remember that."

Castien rounded on his wife and his face was red and angry, "Don't you mention him to me. He went off and left her for too long! He should have stayed by her side like any decent man. But he wasn't even that, he's an elf and I shouldn't have let them marry to begin with."

He shook a beefy fist in the hand as if the March Warden stood beside him. Elonde looked away out into the street where the people were gathering loosely around the elves that had just arrived.

"He'll come here first Castien," she said, "Shall I send for him or shall I keep him away?"

Castien sighed heavily and ran a hand through what was left of his graying hair, "Nay, nay. The chance to keep him secret is passed. He'll know anyway, he's one of them as true as can be and he'd feel it even if we never said a word to him about it. Send Belo after him, I'll go meet his father."

Elonde laid a wrinkled hand on his arm and said gently, "Remember Castien, she did love him. Don't make any trouble if only for her sake."

"I don't promise that Elonde," Castien shook his head, "Not even for you."

As Elonde disappeared around the corner of the house Castien made his way toward the growing knot of people that were gathering around the small village tavern when the elves were taking rooms. As they always had the elves awed Castien, much to his disgust, with their nobility and grace even while doing ordinary things.

There were four of them in all and at the head of the group was the one elf that Castien would have been glad never to see again in all his life; Haldir of Lothlorien.

"Get to his head! Get to his head!" Eleyond called of his instructions to the young man in the choral with the rearing horse.

"Get to his head lad, not under his hooves for the love of the gods!" Eleyond ducked under the thrashing hooves of the stallion and pulled the boy free while tightening his grip on the ropes.

The boy rolled several feet and came up in a minute, his face muddy but fierce.

"Let me back in Eleyond! I can do it myself!" he called out.

Eleyond laughed and said, "I'll not be taking you home with a hole in your head so your mother can hang me Faeron. Now keep back until I quiet him."

With a dirty look Faeron slipped out of the choral and watched as his uncle wrestled with the bucking horse. The stallion was a massive creature of pure black and a rich creamy mane. He had been allowed to run wild for the passed few years, but now he was being brought in for special breeding and he was not happy about it.

Eleyond danced his way out of the horse's hooves and began to speak to it. Faeron leant forward as this was his favorite part of his uncle training any beast, the calming and gentling way he spoke.

"There now my mighty one, come down," Eleyond's said, "You've been brought down, don't we all know? We are going to make you greater if you'll allow it. Strong one, unwilling boy, come down and tell me of your troubles."

The stallion would not give his head to Eleyond; he bucked back and reared again, but not so strongly this time. Faeron shook his head as he saw the slow calming effect that Eleyond's voice had on the animal.

"Come my handsome one, come down," Eleyond crooned.

He let slack the rope, a dangerous move, but Eleyond stepped closer, under the horse's hooves. The stallion snorted, pawing the air in a vague threat, but his breathe came in short harmless puffs. Eleyond reached out one long hand and laid it on the horse's heaving side. The horse snorted once, but came to Eleyond and nudged his shoulder with his soft velvet nose.

"That's right my beautiful one, a fine old charger as you are," Eleyond said and he laid his cheek against the horse's neck, stroking the sweat covered mane, "Fine king of horses err?"

The horse snuffled and nudged Eleyond's shoulder again, this time in a gentle playful mood. Eleyond kissed the horse's nose and turned to where his nephew was watching with admiration and envy.

"Now Faeron, don't you try that as quickly. But you have to reassure the animal that you have his best interests in mind. Since Rana feels his pride is hurt by being caged he's going to fight you. But if you can assure him that he'll be taken care of and that you love him, then he'll come to you."

Faeron snickered as the horses nudged Eleyond's shoulder again and again as if asking a question, "You should tell him we have the finest mare in Pellis waiting for him as well. If he knew that Harma was going to be his girl then he might calm as well."

Eleyond laughed, "Right you are lad. He's just a gentle lover isn't he?" and the Halfelf scratched the horse's brow, "Come on, we've got to get back to the house, Grandfather wants us."

Eleyond vaulted onto Rana's back and offered a hand to his nephew. Faeron settled behind his uncle and wrapped his arms around the Halfelf's waist to keep from slipping off.

"Why can't you use a saddle like everyone else?" he groused, "Even Iauron uses one and he's the best rider for five villages!"

Faeron felt a rumble of laughter in Eleyond's chest as he chuckled and urged the horse into a gentle trot, "Because I prefer to feel closer to the horse. And besides, I am not like everyone else."

This was certainly true. Eleyond was taller then any man in Pellis village, broad shouldered and stronger then any of them. In a land of blond families, Eleyond's sleek black locks stood out in stark contrast to those around him.

"Granddad doesn't like it when you say that," Faeron said, "I can't understand why. It isn't as if we don't all know you're perfectly normal. Well, beside your sickness but even then there plenty of people who has illnesses." Faeron said.

"Aye, but Grandfather is unhappy with my father, not me. As long as he thinks of my father he's as grumpy as an old crow, "Eleyond said, "So we never speak of him when Grandfather's around."

"Because he hates him," Faeron supplied.

"Apparently," Eleyond answered, but his voice had dropped down, but Faeron didn't note the tinge of regret in his uncle's voice, "Come; I have a feeling in my very bones that something is going on in the village."

"A party from Edoras? More new horses? Or is it just that Grandma wants us to clean the garden?" Faeron made a face.

"No, not any of those things." Eleyond answered, "Remember who came and visited a few months ago?"

Faeron's eyes lit up, "The elves? The Galadhrim from Lothlorien? Are they come again so soon? Mother said they haven't come as often in a hundred years!"

"They've come for a special purpose this time," Eleyond said, "I think they've come about me."