Unmarred

Haldir felt anxious from the moment he first set foot on the ship and the feeling only worsened as they drew nearer to Valinor. He could not name the source of his unease, but it was there, a pit in his stomach growing heavier by the hour. It was not for lack of desire to sail. He felt it, the call of the sea, just the same as Orophin. Still, the disquiet he felt refused to subside. He thought surely when he reached the shore and reunited with his parents he would feel differently, but even Maerwen's joyful smile and Thandaer's firm embrace failed to ease his mind. They awaited him and Orophin at the docks, but the relief of seeing his father reborn was only a temporary reprieve from the anxiety.

Lord Celeborn's company was ushered swiftly from the docks to make the journey to Tirion where Galadriel awaited Celeborn, and Celebrían, her sons. Haldir journeyed with them, not knowing what else he should do. Orophin went with him and his parents, too. Why wouldn't they? They had nothing more important to do.

Celeborn and his grandsons made quite the entrance upon arriving at Fingolfin's palace. All gathered cheered. It was a joyous event, or would have been, if Haldir had allowed himself to entertain joy. The entire room was filled with elves Haldir had once known - some who had sailed and others who had died. He was more than a little overwhelmed by the sight of them.

A gentle tap on his shoulder drew Haldir's attention from the crowd. He turned and there before him was a face he had not dared to look for. He held his breath for fear it was a dream and she might vanish from his sight. And then he remembered where he stood now, upon a land where dreams first took flight.

"Haldir!"

Caladhel threw her arms around him and hugged him tightly. In that moment, he knew she was real and the heaviness he felt upon first arriving in Valinor eased ever so slightly. He returned her embrace with greater force and lifted her off the floor in his delight. When at last he drew back, he took her face in his hands, marveling at the sameness of her features.

"You look no different from when last we met."

"Neither do you," Caladhel said.

"I have a few more scars," Haldir replied in earnest.

"I look forward to hearing your tales of them, but first, there is someone I would like you to meet."

Caladhel took hold of his arm and led him across the room. Haldir spied Caladhel's father first and reached out his hand in greeting.

"Lord Lostechil. It has been a long time. I am pleased to meet you again on this shore."

Lostechil clasped Haldir's arm in greeting. "I am pleased as well, and grateful, too, to know Lothlórien was kept safe these many years by your capable hands."

Haldir nodded in acknowledgement of the lord's thanks and praise.

Lostechil gestured to the ellon at his side. "I would like to introduce you to my son, Calanor."

Haldir's attention turned to the younger ellon beside Lostechil. He had not taken in the details of his face before that moment but saw now the ellon's resemblance to both his father and Caladhel.

Calanor nodded in greeting. "Haldir, I have heard much of you these many years, both from Caladhel and our fathers. I am pleased to finally meet you in person."

"And I am pleased to meet you," Haldir replied. "No less because I have now won a longstanding wager with your sister."

"What wager?" Calanor asked.

"That your parents would have a son upon arriving in Valinor. Caladhel wagered on a daughter."

"And she was right," a voice chided him.

Haldir turned in the direction of the speaker. His mouth fell agape upon sighting her and she laughed at the expression he made. Caladhel took the elleth's arm, drawing her into the circle. Standing side-by-side there was no denying they were sisters. The elleth stood a little shorter than Caladhel. Her hair was a shade darker and her eyes more blue than grey. She was, like her sister, a vision to behold. But there was something more, a light in her eyes that held Haldir captive.

"This is my sister, Tirith," said Caladhel. "Tirith, this is Haldir."

Haldir was at a loss for words, but quickly realized how foolish he must look staring at the elleth the way he was. He set his hand on his heart and affected a small bow. "I am pleased to meet you."

"And I, you," Tirith said. "Caladhel has told me many tales of you."

"Is that so?" Her statement left Haldir feeling awkward, more so than he could ever recall.

"It is," Tirith replied. "She also told me of your wager. I believe it is a draw."

"I disagree," Calanor interjected. "I was born first, so our parents did have a son after arriving in Valinor. You came after."

"Ten minutes after," Tirith countered.

The siblings continued to argue the point back and forth and Haldir was grateful for the distraction. Their playful banter allowed him to observe Tirith without the need to form a coherent thought. She was enchanting – from the lines of her face to the tune of her laughter. Haldir had never before been rendered so utterly senseless by the mere presence of an elleth, not even by Caladhel in his youth.

Eventually the sisters excused themselves and they went off to greet Celebrían's sons. Haldir continued to engage half-heartedly in conversation with Lostechil and Calanor. Despite a lifetime's discipline, Haldir could not halt the wandering of his gaze, which was drawn repeatedly to Tirith throughout the remainder of the night.

Orophin delighted in being the center of attention. He was known well in Lothlórien for his animated storytelling and he quickly amassed a following of Valinor-born who enjoyed his tales of Middle-earth. He was recounting an adventure to a circle of elves in the palace garden, gesturing in exaggerated fashion, when he caught Haldir's eye and beckoned his brother to join him.

"I was fighting ten, maybe twenty orcs at once! Even so greatly outnumbered, I did not give in to fear! I slew them, one by one. But then, a wily beast saw an opening. He threw a poisoned dagger at my back!"

The crowd gasped.

"There I was, about to meet my end, when out of nowhere, Haldir appeared and cut the blade out of the air! I surely would have died if not for his most opportune arrival."

Relief washed over the assembly at the dramatic turn of events and they cheered Haldir's timely rescue.

"We joined ranks," Orophin continued, "and fought back-to-back until all the orc were defeated, and the border made safe once more."

"Would the poison have killed you?" an ellon asked.

"If left untreated, yes," Haldir said, "but we have medicines for such things."

"The poison does cause wounds to scar," Orophin explained. To Haldir, he added, "Show them the one on your arm."

"You have a scar?" one elleth gasped.

"I have heard tell of them," another said, "but I have never seen one before."

"Will you show us?" an ellon who stood nearer to Haldir asked.

Haldir glared unhappily at his brother, a point that went largely unnoticed by the curious eyes of Orophin's audience.

Feeling cornered, and reluctant to cause a scene, Haldir rolled up his sleeve. On the outside of his right arm near the shoulder was a raised line. It had been a minor injury, barely worth noting at the time. In fact, if the wound had not tingled from the poison Haldir might not have noticed it at all.

Haldir forced his discomfort aside as he was gawked at by strangers. A few asked to touch his arm and he gave them leave to do so, if only to hasten the process along.

"How did it happen?" an ellon asked him.

Haldir's countenance darkened and this time some of those gathered did note his unease. "I was distracted," Haldir explained, "and so my parry was a moment delayed."

"The great general of Lothlórien was distracted!" another ellon echoed in disbelief. "By what, may I ask?"

The ellon who posed this question had clearly missed Haldir's dismay as well as the horrified expression forming on Orophin's face.

Haldir met the questioner's gaze. His eyes were quizzical, his countenance good-natured. It was clear to Haldir he knew not what he asked. "I watched our younger brother fall," he said.

Haldir's answer caused the blood to drain from the ellon's face. The once boisterous crowd, too, fell quiet. Even Orophin did not know quite what to say. Haldir took that as his cue to leave.

He nodded to his brother. "If you will excuse me," he said, and walked away.

Haldir headed back the way he came, towards the palace, but he made it no more than twenty paces before he spied her standing aside the arbor gate. He did not know how he had overlooked her presence before that moment, but it was clear she had witnessed the entire scene.

"That was quite a tale," Tirith said.

"I am afraid I am not much of a storyteller," Haldir replied, for it was the truth and he knew not what else to say.

Tirith's gaze flickered to the circle of elves who spoke softly now to one another before returning her attention to him. "I think the lesson was well learned."

Haldir spared a glance behind him. The once raucous crowd was quiet now. Orophin was speaking softly to them, his demeanor more serious than before. Haldir guessed he was sharing the whole of the tale of how their brother died.

"Our father had a scar when we were young," Tirith said, drawing Haldir's attention back to her. "It was on his side. He had deflected a killing blow, but the tip of the blade caught him there. I remember how strange it felt beneath my fingers. It is gone now."

"This scar will also heal in time," Haldir said as he finished adjusting his sleeve.

"I pray the pain will fade as well," Tirith added, "once your brother has returned to you."

Haldir did not know what to say in answer to her prayer. He had not yet allowed himself to ponder Rumil's rebirth. It was too soon.

A voice calling Tirith's name from afar saved Haldir the trouble of responding. "I must be going. Good evening," she said.

Haldir nodded and the elleth hurried off down the garden path. He continued to watch her until she disappeared from his sight. Afterward, he continued along the walk leading from the garden to the palace, but instead of heading to his rooms he ascended the stair to the second floor. He strolled slowly along the upper arcade overlooking the garden. There were musicians playing and elves in their dozens took up partners to dance. Tirith was among them. Haldir watched the dancers for a while. Some of the music and movements were familiar to him, others were foreign. It was the same as with everything in this land.

Caladhel found him there, leaning on a column, overlooking the garden party below. "How are you doing this evening?" she asked.

Haldir sighed deeply before turning his attention to her. "I do not know how to answer that question," he admitted.

Caladhel took his arm in hers and gave it a reassuring squeeze. She looked out over the edge of the railing into the garden below. "My father told me it took years for him to feel at ease again in Valinor. He had been fighting for so long, it was all he could remember. I would not be surprised if it takes longer than a few days for you to find peace, when war is all you have ever known. Give yourself time."

"I have time now in abundance," Haldir replied. "Too much time, or so it seems."

"It helps to keep a routine. I understand you have maintained your morning practice schedule. That is good."

"It is pointless," Haldir countered. "There are no enemies here."

"My father still practices his sword forms. He taught my brother as well, though he has never seen war, and never will."

"I am not sure what I am meant to do here," Haldir admitted.

"You will find your way as has every elf who came before." Caladhel hugged his arm once more to emphasize her support. She lifted her head then to catch his eyes. When she held them, she added, "But if you would like for me to suggest a course, you could start by asking my sister to dance tonight."

Haldir sighed a second time and shook his head. "I cannot."

"Why is that?" she asked.

Haldir gave her no answer. Instead, he turned his attention to the crowd below. Both he and Caladhel found Tirith among the many faces. She was talking with friends.

"I knew who she was the moment I first laid eyes on her," Caladhel said.

"There is no mistaking your kinship," Haldir replied.

"That is not what I meant. I knew her to be the elleth your heart long sought."

Haldir was surprised by the confidence with which Caladhel spoke. He withdrew from her embrace, retreating far enough so he could better judge the truth of it in her eyes. "How is that?" he asked.

"I know of several elleth who tried to catch your eye over the years," Caladhel explained. "All of them failed. Your heart was seeking someone else."

"Perhaps I merely feared to leave a wife and children behind, as my father did," Haldir deflected.

"Perhaps, but there is no need to fear an untimely parting here, and I do not see you rushing off to pursue a long-denied love."

Haldir remained silent for some time. His gaze returned to the garden where he watched Tirith laugh from afar. The pit in his stomach pained him more now than ever before. "She reminds me of you, when you were young. Not only the lines of her face, but something else. Her eyes, they are so…."

"Innocent," Caladhel completed the thought for him.

"Painfully so," he replied.

"She is not a child, Haldir."

Haldir shook his head, recalling the conversation with the ellyn in the garden he had had not half an hour before. "They are all children. Every one of them. It is difficult to look them in the eye."

"Why is that?" Caladhel asked.

"They are … unmarred. I can only imagine what they see when they look upon me."

"You sound like Thranduil."

Haldir startled at her statement, a fact that was not lost on Caladhel.

"He was afraid of my judgment," she explained, "of his son's, that his scars marked him as unworthy. It was not true of him and it is not true of you. Your wounds will heal."

"It is not the marks that worry me," he admitted, "it is the memories."

"I know it," Caladhel replied. She returned her head to its place on Haldir's shoulder. They stayed that way for a time, enjoying the renewed comfort of each other's company, and all the while, they watched Tirith dance.

"What right have I to dim the light of so bright a star?" Haldir asked.

Caladhel considered his question a moment, then countered it with another. "Did you find me paled at Thranduil's side?"

Haldir clasped Caladhel's arm before he answered, "The darkest of clouds could not diminish your light."

"Perhaps Tirith will help you shine brighter," Caladhel offered.

Haldir considered her suggestion doubtful, but he was not, after all, worried for his own light. He did have one more pressing concern. "Have you told her of my love for you when we were young?"

"She knows," Caladhel replied.

"How can she be assured it is her I pursue and not a dream of you?" Haldir asked.

Caladhel laughed at his foolish question and gave him a peck on the cheek. "An elleth can tell the difference," she replied. "Now I am going to dance. Will you join me?"

Haldir shook his head. "Not tonight."

Caladhel accepted his refusal without argument. She knew he needed time. He could take all the time he desired, so far as Caladhel was concerned, for there was no doubt in her mind that he and Tirith were fated. Pressing the matter would not change that fact. He would come to that truth on his own, when he was ready. She nodded her farewell and left him to join Tirith. Haldir continued to watch them awhile longer from his perch overlooking the garden before retiring to bed.

Haldir settled into a daily routine as best he could. It was less than ideal, what with living in an apartment that was not his own, with strangers appearing and disappearing at every turn. He spent the mornings at the training fields, ate lunch with his brother and a few other Lórien guards, and then spent most afternoons aiding Celeborn, who was already at work planning their people's new home. Irmo and Estë had welcomed the Galadhrim to live in their garden, as they called it, where the oldest of the mellyrn trees grew tall. The construction of their new city would take some years and planning had only just begun. Haldir resigned himself to the fact that he would be living in Tirion for longer than he first thought. He tried to make the best of it, as he always did. At least he had his brother's company and Caladhel back from the dead, a talan of his own would have to wait.

Haldir decided to practice one form each morning to conclude his daily exercise routine. Today he chose one designed for unarmed combat. Despite his comment to Caladhel a few nights prior that the practice was pointless, the memory of the movements aided in quieting his soul and steadying his mind.

Half-way through the sequence Haldir sensed he was not alone. Elves walked softly by nature, but it took training to silence one's steps. The elves of Valinor needed no such skill. Only days ago Orophin had joked that the steps of the Valinor-born were like the sounding of trumpets. Haldir had scolded his brother for being impolite – not for being wrong.

Haldir marked her standing at the entrance to the field, but he gave no hint of this awareness in his eyes. He continued to move, one practiced blow flowing into the next until the form was done. He breathed deep and exhaled the same three times before he spoke.

"Do you often watch others while they exercise?"

Tirith stepped though the trellised doorway and onto the training floor. Her attire was entirely inappropriate for the setting. She wore a blue dress embroidered with silver flowers and fine shoes more fit for stone than bare ground.

"Not too often," Tirith replied with a smile. "You move beautifully. I can hardly be faulted for being captivated by your performance. Though it does appear you are missing a partner."

It took Haldir a second to understand what she meant. His confusion must have shown on his face for she gestured back to the empty training floor. Haldir's thoughts returned to the form's movements, to the invisible enemy he had been fighting a moment before. "I suppose I was, in a manner of speaking."

"I am not familiar with that form. Was it taught when you were young?"

"Not exactly."

"When did you learn it?"

"I did not learn it." Haldir explained. "I created it."

"Truly? Have you created many?"

Tirith's obvious delight at this news puzzled Haldir. She had never known war and had no need to learn defense. He would not be surprised at all to learn that she had never set foot on a training field, if her choice of shoes was any indicator.

"Perhaps you would count them many," Haldir replied. "I created some for long and short blades, for bow and staff and open hand. I used them to train the young warriors of Lothlórien."

"I look forward to seeing them performed," Tirith said.

"Why?" he asked in earnest, for he was truly surprised by her interest. "There is no need for them anymore."

"True. But even without need, they are an art." When Haldir responded to her statement with a look of bafflement, she continued with her argument. "What need has one for music or poetry or dance, but to bring the spirit joy? Does it not bring you joy to master these movements?"

Haldir had not considered such a question before, but posed with it now, the answer was obvious. "It does."

"And it brings me joy to observe them," Tirith added. "Is that not purpose enough?"

In the many thousands of years he had lived, Haldir had never contemplated that the arts of war could live purely as art. In Middle-earth they had always been a necessity, but here, on this shore, they could exist in all their beauty – without bloodshed.

Something Haldir had been unable to name shifted inside of him and at once the weight of unease he carried with him to Valinor began to fade. The corners of his mouth crept upward in a smile, it reached his eyes, lighting his face.

"Is that what brought you to the training fields this morning?" He eyed her shoes pointedly. "You do not look dressed to spar."

"Caladhel did try to teach me archery a few centuries ago. I have yet to hit a target. Alas, such arts are not my forte."

"Then why have you come?" he asked.

"My father told me you practice each morning. I thought I might offer you a tour of the city when you are done."

"Why would you want to?" he asked, for despite Caladhel's firm opinion, Haldir could not fathom why Tirith would choose to spend time with him.

"So that you might feel welcome in your new home," she replied.

Haldir was certain she spoke true, he only wondered if it was possible to ever call this place home. He hoped he could someday.

Haldir's silent contemplation extended overlong, causing the light in Tirith's eyes to dim. "If you would prefer Calanor to be your guide, I am certain he will..."

"No!" Haldir exclaimed, realizing she mistook his silence for something else. "I prefer you," he added, but being a poor choice of words, he tried again, stammering, "What I mean is … I don't ... that is … I don't know what I mean." Embarrassed by his seeming inability to speak, Haldir raised his hand to his temple and ran his fingers back through his hair. It was a most uncharacteristic gesture of the renowned general of Lothlórien, though it had been common enough for a young warden in ages past.

Tirith could not quite suppress her own amusement at his present state. "Caladhel was right. You are adorable when you are flustered."

Both Caladhel and Celebrían had told Haldir this in the past. He trusted they were correct. He was also determined to discover what other of his secrets Caladhel had confessed. "What else has she told you?" he asked.

Tirith took his arm in hand and lead him from the field. "She also told me you will be in need of a new swimming hole and a tree from which to gaze the stars. I have a few in mind that might suit you. We can visit them now, if you do not object?"

He did not object.

~Fin~

A/N: Confession time. I decided that Haldir married an elf in Valinor while writing Peredhel. I only decided it was Caladhel's sister when I wrote the SD chapter Rivers of Doubt.