Set in Stone - Haldir's Story -

Chapter 7 - Miruvor

Haldir was well aware that the love at first sight his brother had spoken of was only existing in the humans' stories: those weren't like the elven tales that were true and told of a time long gone – no, they were fabricated by the human mind, a sort of manifestation of their dreams. Since Haldir had this thought always in mind, it was unavoidable for him to know that love could only grow when two people got to know each other better: only then they could decide whether they liked each other enough to want to spend their whole lifetime – which was quite long in the case of two elves – together. So when Haldir informed his brothers that he would stay with the caretakers, part of him knew that this could be a foolish decision. He was not in love yet, but something about Daëra made him think there was more to her than meets the eye. Her healing power had surprised him and she seemed to be so much older than her actual age. Haldir wanted to know why. He wanted to know what she had seen in Middle-Earth, far away from any forest, that had made her grow up far before her time. He didn't think it was a traumatic experience of some kind, but he felt it was something that affected her personally, that had made her think for long hours at night. Haldir wanted to know those thoughts.

His longing to understand her was a quite an ambivalent feeling: he wantedto know her mind, yet for some reason he felt he could not. She was different, she didn't fit, but in a different way to how he and his brothers didn't fit. So it was his curiosity that drove Haldir to staying with the caretakers, a curiosity that could lead him anywhere, as he was very well aware. But then he did not fall in love easily and was willing to take the risk – quite confident he would not succumb to any feelings. Knowing that he would not: he could be quite a master of control, if he wanted to. Besides, he actually did find the caretakers' work extremely interesting and he enjoyed travelling through the woods.

The days flew by and Haldir talked to Daëra as much as he could without arising frowning looks. When she talked about where she had been he almost felt as if he had been there himself. Yet her accounts mostly focussed onto the places and the humans living there, she did not talk much about her own kind. Haldir started to feel that he was missing a lot of things in Mirkwood, yet he still wanted to go back to where he was needed. Really needed, that is. Lórien was safe, no one needed him to be here, yet his home needed him, needed every single person that was willing to help bringing it back to life.

On the day of the winter solstice, the whole city had been prepared to shine in the light of even more lamps, as if their light could drive away the cold and convince the sun to look at Middle-Earth a little bit longer every day. The caretakers didn't venture out into the woods this day and they wouldn't for at least one more. The elves were singing old songs while they were preparing the feast and Haldir was somehow relieved that he knew most of the lyrics from home. To him it felt like a sort of proof that Mirkwood and Lórien Elves actually had shared a similar culture – a long time ago.

Haldir met Daëra near her flet where she was outside baking bread with herbs, softly singing to herself while she was working. – "That is not an elven song," Haldir stated. Her eyes shot up as if she had not heard him approach. A slight smile spread across her lips. "Indeed, it is not. I learned it from the humans at Mithlond." On the first few words her accent was more pronounced, just as if her brain had not quite switched from Westron – the common tongue – to Elvish yet. – "Have you ever tried Miruvor before?" Haldir could not suppress the question, he was too curious. – Daëra shook her head. "Never. Last time I was here I had been quite a bit younger and Elladan would not let me." Her eyes sparkled at the memory. "You do not have it in Mirkwood, do you?" – "No. Getting drunk just like humans and dwarfs do would be exceedingly dangerous there."

Daëra stopped sprinkling a dried herb into the dough and looked at him with quizzical eyes. "I have never tried it so I would not know – but Elladan told me that Miruvor does not make people drunk like human spirits do: it makes you do the things you have been wanting to do for a while but haven't for reasons the mind has thought of. Of course..." she looked up to him through her long eyelashes, "Of course this can be a good as well as a bad thing. That is why he would not let me decades ago. One does things under the influence of Miruvor that cannot be undone. And yet... you see, it does not really work on humans. If they drink it, they feel refreshed and warm – but nothing more. Perhaps they do not need it." – Haldir frowned. Why would elves drink Miruvor at all if it had that effect on them? Because it was the closest to getting drunk they could ever get, since human alcohol didn't work on them? Yet surely the Lord and Lady didn't think that way and even they had it served on their feast. Haldir caught Daëra's glance. "Do we need it? You said the humans might not need Miruvor." He saw the thoughts racing behind her eyes and for a second he wondered whether she was considering to lie to him. He hoped she wouldn't, for if he ever found out he was quite sure he would not be able to forgive her. He could not forgive anyone who was lying to him, it was an insult beyond measure. Suddenly, she smiled and Haldir felt that her next words wouldn't be a lie. "Sometimes, perhaps. But I don't think I am a good judge for that, I am an elf myself after all." She concentrated on the dough again, her smile though lingered on her lips for a while longer.  Haldir looked at her curiously. "Why would elves need something humans do not need?!" – Now she laughed out loud and although he was surprised as usual when she did things like that, he had become very good at not showing it. – "Humans are just different! You see, they're... I do not know... silly in a way and their lives are ridiculously short... but they are honest. I do not mean they never lie – for they do a lot – but: they are easy to read. And what is special about it: they do not mind it. Not really, I mean. They would always say they don't want anyone to know their thoughts, but in fact they do. They want others to realise when they are sad or hurt or happy. It is a way of communication, I think."

He was shuddering at the thought of everybody knowing what was going on in his mind. Not that he was having any secrets – he just did not want them to. His thoughts and feelings were his alone. Daëra was kneading her dough, only shooting a few glances up at Haldir now and then. – "I might see you tonight," she said as a sort of farewell before she went to bring the dough to where the bread was baked. Slowly, Haldir turned around and went back to the flet, inwardly still shaking his head at the humans. He would have to pay attention to their expressions more: he smiled at how astonished they would be if he told them their thoughts right into their faces.

"Are you going to have some?" – It was night time, the silver moon had risen over Lothlórien and not a single cloud covered the starlit sky. It was exceptionally cold, the ground was frozen and the elves' breath rose to the sky in clouds of white fog. Haldir looked at his brother. "Yes – I doubt I will have another possibility to try it sometime soon." Haldir took the crystal glass his youngest brother handed over to him. The three brothers were standing below the trees surrounded by lots of other elves. Fires were burning everywhere, though not to keep the elves warm, since they weren't freezing. Rumil sniffed the Miruvor, to the obvious amusement of some female elves standing next to them. Haldir quickly took a zip to conceal his grin. The warmth was spreading from his stomach immediately, filling him with a strange sort of energy. It felt like fluid elf magic.

Rumil – seeing that his brothers were already drinking – drank his glass half empty in one go. He nodded approvingly. "We definitely need to take something of this back to Mirkwood. I could imagine our shifts on the castle walls would be a lot less damp and boring." – Orophin positively burst into laughter at that. He had already finished his first cup. "Just imagine Thranduil's face!" he managed to say between fits of laughter. Haldir let his eyes trail over the other elves, taking a zip now and then. He did not feel that much time passed, but when his glance came to where his brothers had stood... well, some time ago, he realised they had disappeared. Haldir stood up, moving through the crowd. Against his expectations he didn't feel dizzy at all, on the contrary: he was strangely aware of everyone around him and himself. After what seemed like forever, he finally spotted her, only noticing then that he had been looking for her.  She was wearing a white, shoulder-free dress with long sleeves that was pronouncing her rather dark hair.

She had seen him as well and started to walk, coming to a halt in front of him. "I said we might meet," she stated. He could not hear her voice for all the talk around them, but could tell her words from the movement of her soft lips. They walked together to a place where they could finally hear each other's words again. For some reason, the name of Elladan came flashing into Haldir's mind again, but he just pushed him away. "I might be regretting this later," he said, his voice barely more than a whisper. Daëra was standing with her back to a tree; Haldir felt how matter got out of control the closer he got to her. Yet he kept on diminishing the distance between them, as if he were daring himself, already knowing he would lose. Daëra's eyes were half closed. "We both might."

His body was pressing her against the trunk of the tree; there was no turning back now. Daëra had secretly hoped he would come looking for her once the Miruvor had started working, and here he was, proving that there were more emotions hidden behind his flawless face than he was realising himself. Haldir was so close she could feel the warmth of his skin in contrast to the cold winter air. He pushed a strand of Daëra's hair behind her ear, his thumb then tracing her jaw line and her lips. The touch sent shivers down her spine, as well as the stare of his eyes: for once she felt she could see beyond the facade. His eyes were searching her and she could see the question in them, the wish to understand her and gain an access into her mind. 

Haldir's lips imitated the previous movement of his thumb until finally their lips met. Daëra's hands clasped onto his strong arms all by themselves, preventing him from moving farther away. Their lips moved against each other as if they had never kissed another person before – in the minutes while their kiss lasted the memory of her previous kisses actually did fade away as if they had never happened. His mouth on her skin left a mark and she knew how foolish, foolish it had been to let it get that far and for how long she would regret this night. Yet she neither could nor wished to stop it.