Part Nine
Haldir suppressed the urge to hide when he saw Arwen descending the steps of his tree.
He probably could have ducked away easily, but some small part of him found Arwen’s
attention flattering, and at the moment he felt he could do with a little flattery. It was not
that he did not find Arwen beautiful. He did not even find her irritating in the way that
Rúmil seemed to. She had many admirable qualities -- a quick tongue and a sharp wit
among them. He enjoyed bantering with her.
Yet, Haldir knew that touching her would be entirely too dangerous. Elrond would not
like it, and Galadriel would not like it. If he wanted to remain Marchwarden, he knew it
was best not irritate either one of them. Arwen was too far above his station. If he did for
some reason truly win her heart, then he would probably be forced into marriage with her.
Although she might be entertaining to have in his bed for a few nights, he certainly did not
want her moving in to his talan permanently.
There were, of course, ways to avoid being caught. However, both parties needed to
cooperate in that, and a maid who wanted a husband was never to be trusted -- and here
she was, descending from his talan. His solution was to enjoy Arwen’s company only
when there were others around who might safely vouch for his impeccable behavior, much
to her consternation.
“Were you looking for me, Lady Arwen?” he asked politely.
“Should I have been?” she asked, smiling. A chill went over his spine.
“Forgive me, I simply saw you coming down from my mallorn,” he said.
“Oh, I was up in Rúmil’s talan. Come, Haldir, walk with me a ways. I desire your
council.”
Arwen slipped her arm through his and there was no way to avoid her without being rude.
She also had caught his full attention with her words, so he was not entirely displeased. He
steered her towards the waterfall, where many elves were usually gathered.
“Rúmil invited you up to his talan?” he prompted as they strolled, trying to affect a
disinterested tone.
“Jealous?” she teased.
“Desperately.”
“If you must know, I followed him there after he abandoned me on the way to the guest
talan.” Arwen let out an overblown sigh and looked up at him with large blue eyes that
reminded him she was the granddaughter of Galadriel.
“Surely you recall where that is from your last visit to Lórien.”
The corner of her mouth quirked back but she admitted nothing. “Still, he should have
shown me the way.”
“I will not deny that he lacks in manners. Still, he makes up for it in other ways,” Haldir
said, not one to disparage his brothers much.
“I have yet to discover those,” Arwen said airily.
She was trying too hard to sound disaffected, Haldir thought. Could it be that Arwen had
at last turned her attention from Haldir to his younger brother? She and Rúmil were more
of an age, and certainly of a mindset. He was not blind to the ways of this lady, even if her
father was and her grandmother pretended to be. Arwen could be a ruthless trickster when
it suited her. Haldir thought that it came from boredom.
“Was he not in his talan, when you went up?”
“He was there, with Orophin and the stranger called Amroth.” Arwen stopped walking,
forcing Haldir to stop as well, and looked at him frankly. “Tell me, Marchwarden, why
does Rúmil say that this Amroth is the lost king of Lórien? This cannot possibly be so, can
it?”
Haldir sighed inwardly. “It is not my place to be speaking of him. You should bring your
questions to Lady Galadriel.”
“She is closeted with my father, and likely they will be speaking together all day and half
of the night,” Arwen said plainly. “I cannot wait so long for answers to my questions, so
you will answer them now.”
Haldir frowned, lifting a brow. “Honey catches flies more easily than vinegar,” he said. “I
answer to Galadriel and not to you.”
She softened, but still looked frustrated. Arwen took a deep breath and at last spoke
frankly. “You should have seen the look on my father’s face when he came to me and told
me we were leaving immediately for Lothlórien. He did not even give me two days to
pack. From the way he acted, I thought that something had happened to Galadriel. He told
me nothing, and we rode as if the wood were on fire behind us. We left the horses near the
stream of Nimrodel and walked from there, for they were exhausted and would carry us
no further.”
Arwen paused and let him take in all that she had said. He nodded and bade her go on, for
he was convinced she had more to tell. Instead she let go of his arm and looked away from
him. She took a few steps away, looking down into the waters of the stream. Haldir could
see other elves walking on the other bank, calmly going about their daily tasks. He gave
Arwen her space, but did not walk away. Calmly he waited.
“Nimrodel. We have had a statue of her in our garden for many years. Father put it up the
same week my mother sailed for Aman. He was in such a hurry to get here that he would
not let Erestor stop to retrieve a book that he dropped, but we paused for hours at the
stream of Nimrodel.”
Arwen turned back towards Haldir again.
“My father and Galadriel spoke of an Amroth, who was here, and I met him in your
brothers’ talan. Rúmil said he was the lost king. Amroth was the lover of Nimrodel in the
ballad, of course, and-- Will you not share what you know with me, Haldir? Please...”
“At least you ask nicely this time,” he said, but the callous words were spoken more to
give him time to consider his reply than for any other reason.
“Amroth was king of Lórien before Celeborn and Galadriel came to rule.”
“You have studied your history, Princess.”
“If you continue in that tone, Haldir, I am going to stomp on your foot and push you into
the water.”
“As you did to Rúmil on your previous visit?” He raised an eyebrow but the corner of his
mouth quirked upwards as well. He crossed his arms over his chest but he was slightly on
edge -- he had no doubt that she would do exactly as she had said. He could only imagine
the laughter at his expense if Arwen shoved him into the stream.
“You are remembering it backwards,” Arwen said, her eyes glittering. “He pushed me in.”
“Ah, yes. You should have seen the whipping Celeborn gave him for that. He could not
walk for a week.”
Arwen turned pale, and two bright spots appeared in her cheeks. The shock on her face
was priceless. Her lips moved, but no words came out. Finally a whisper emerged. “Truly?
Rúmil was beaten because of me?”
“I am teasing you,” he said grinning. “He did get an extra turn at guard duty, but--”
“Oh, you bastard!”
Her anger made him laugh. Haldir leapt aside as Arwen flung herself at him, no doubt to
stomp on his foot and push him into the water, but then he had to immediately spin around
and grab her around the waist so she did not going flying into the stream on her own. He
pulled her back, stumbled, and barely kept his footing. Only his grace and balance kept
them from going down in a heap. Once she realized she was in his arms, Arwen pushed
away from him. He smiled at her slowly.
“I am in no mood for a swim,” he said. “But see what I have learned? You do care for
Rúmil, don’t you?”
“I do not,” Arwen declared, but her cheeks were still burning red. “And you are making a
very good attempt at changing the subject.”
All the fire went out of her and she looked at him with pleading eyes. She stepped towards
him again and took his hands in her own. Her fingers were cool and slender and his own
hands seemed clumsy and large in comparison. She rubbed her thumb over the back of his
hand in a way that sent shivers through his body and made it difficult for him to think. He
glanced across the bank of the stream and did not see anyone else over there. By all
appearances they were alone. He licked his lips.
“What was the subject?” he asked lazily.
“Amroth.”
“Hm. Lady, you would do better in seeking answers of Galadriel. Truly.”
“As I told you, she is preoccupied. Perhaps I should find ways of getting Rúmil to answer
my questions if you will not. After all, he already did say that this Amroth is the lost king.”
Haldir sighed. If she did this, more trouble would be laid at Rúmil’s door than no doubt
already awaited him. “And what did Amroth say to you?” he asked.
“He said not yea or nay, but I did not question him further.”
“I am surprised, Arwen. Usually you go right to the source when something troubles your
mind. Why do you come to me instead?”
She paused for a long time, then finally she replied. “Because I do not know him, and I
trust you, Haldir, to be frank with me. You may be blunt and cold, with a heart of stone,
but you do not mince words and you are refreshingly honest.”
“Such mixed compliments,” he said without reacting. Was he known to have a heart of
stone? Well, perhaps he did. He never gave it to anyone, or he had not in a long, long
time, anyway. She squeezed his fingers.
“Never mind them. I know it is because of him that my father dragged us here in such
haste.”
“Then what does that tell you?”
“That truly... truly this Amroth is the lost king.”
He nodded slightly. “This is your own conclusion.”
Slowly she smiled. “Why, yes. You gave me no news you should not have, Marchwarden.
You would never betray the will of my grandmother, of that I am certain.”
“Ah, thank you.”
Too soon her smile faded. “This news only brings me to more questions. Do you know
why my father is so obsessed with Nimrodel? When I was young he would often have me
play the harp for him, and sing that ballad. Never did he ask for another.”
Arwen’s voice came at a whisper. Haldir felt a tender pity for her. He knew what it was
like to question the past, and have no answers available to you. He had always known that
Elrond had a statue of Nimrodel of which he was overly fond, but it had never occurred to
him to ask the Lord of Imladris about it. He lifted his hand to touch Arwen’s face gently.
She tilted her face upwards.
“Forgive me, Princess, but I do not. Perhaps in time, we shall all see.”
“Arwen.”
Her name was spoken in a low, cold tone and Haldir felt her jump beneath his touch. He
recognized the voice immediately, but his movement was slow as he lowered his hand
from her cheek. Haldir knew better than to move quickly and bring the impression of guilt
upon himself. He turned to face Lord Elrond and greeted him respectfully. He wondered
how much of the conversation Elrond might have overheard.
“Father,” Arwen whispered.
“Galadriel desires your company,” he told her gently.
“I will escort her--” Haldir began, but Elrond cut him off.
“No, Haldir. She knows the paths of Caras Galadhon well enough.”
Before more could be said, Arwen hurried off. Haldir watched her for a moment, then
gave his attention to Elrond, who was apparently waiting for it.
“It is good to see you again, Lord Elrond,” he said.
“I am inclined to say the same, Haldir, did I not find you on such a secluded path with my
daughter.”
Haldir sighed inwardly. “Jealous?” he said.
“Desperately,” Elrond replied. They both laughed, and the moment of tension was gone.
“Tell me, old friend, what know you of Amroth?”
The question of the day, Haldir thought. “Did not Galadriel speak with you of him? I
know that he is the reason why you are here.”
“She did. She shared much, yet she held much back, as usual for her. You have met him,
spoken with him, no doubt. What do you think of him?”
“I think he means no harm to anyone,” Haldir said slowly. “What have you to fear of him,
my lord?”
“Nothing anymore, I suppose,” Elrond said quietly. “Walk with me, Haldir.
Like father, like daughter, Haldir thought. They walked further down the bank of the
stream in silence. Haldir waited for Elrond to continue, knowing that the Lord of Imladris
had much on his mind.
“I loved Nimrodel. Perhaps still do love her,” Elrond said at last. “She left me for
Amroth... and so I wed Celebrían.”
Haldir was glad Arwen was not present. No, she did not need to know this. “You have
come here to look into the eye of a rival, then.”
“I suppose.”
“Elrond, Amroth is barely alive. He was as a dead thing, driftwood beneath the Bay of
Belfalas for all these many years. What will this serve?”
“I believe he will lead me to Nimrodel.”
“Nimrodel is legend,” Haldir insisted. “Did she still exist, word would certainly have come
to elvenkind before now. No doubt she was lost long ago. And if she were not, do you
wish to lose her to Amroth for a second time?”
Elrond stopped walking and stared hard at Haldir. Haldir wondered if he had gone too far.
He knew he had not been showing Elrond the respect deserving his position, but he had
spoken with candor as a friend and sometime lover to the Lord of Imladris. He dropped
his eyes. Elrond put a hand on Haldir’s shoulder.
“I appreciate your candor, Haldir. If you did not lack so entirely in romantic sensibilities, I
would wed you to my daughter.”
Haldir did not reply. He did not wish to say anything that might influence Elrond to
change his mind.
