Set in Stone - Haldir's Story -

Chapter 17 - The Districts of Mithlond

It's a shame not everyone will be able to go. — Every elf is welcome in the Undying Lands. Every elf.

Daëra let the cold water run down her spine until she was shivering violently — it didn't work, though. The cold numbed her fingertips and toes but unfortunately, it didn't numb her thoughts.  Daëra stayed beneath the small waterfall until she couldn't bear it any longer, then she climbed out of the pool that was supplied by a brook. The season still being spring, the water was cold as ice and Daëra — only being half-elf — felt the bite of the cold full-force. Elladan had talked to her again. He had been wondering as to how long Haldir and her relationship could possibly have been going on, for her to be so very much attached to him. She had just returned to Lórien after all, merely a few months ago. He had never suspected a thing... Haldir had been in Imladris so often, never of his own accord of course, but still... He had been there and Elladan had never thought anything about it. Had never noticed. And now Elladan had left as well, he said he needed to talk to his father. Daëra was left on her own, trying to come to grips with her life. Or the ruins of it, rather.

Since the bath in the pool had been a spontaneous decision, Daëra hadn't brought a towel and by the time she was halfway back to the city, her soft dress was wet through. As it was white, Daëra almost ran all the way to her flet so no one would see her: the white tended to become quite transparent when wet. Dripping, Daëra climbed the steps to her flet — it wasn't really hers, the Lady had given it to her and it was situated in the outskirts of Caras Galadhon with lots of other flets in the same tree above and below hers. Up to now though, Daëra had hardly ever been there — she had been at Haldir's flet or out in the woods most of the time. Daëra slammed the door shut behind her in a fruitless attempt to shut out the cheerful birdsong that came wafting in from the outside. By now she was so cold her teeth were chattering audibly and her hands were white as wax, shaking like leaves. The second she had closed the door though, Daëra noticed that something was different. She was not alone.

For a split-second, Daëra thought Orophin or Rumil had been waiting for her to ask why Haldir... why she hadn't done anything yet. Then, though, she recognised... his smell, his breathing, his presence. It wasn't like him to sneak into her flet, waiting for her in the dark. When Daëra slowly turned around, she heard him suck in a ragged breath. "You are soaked," he stated somewhat superfluously in hardly more than a whisper. It was when Daëra saw him standing in the corner of her flet in the semi-darkness — watching her every move with ever-so-calm, but empty eyes — that she knew. Knew that he knew. Another shiver ran down Daëra's spine, but she wasn't sure it was from the cold. "Tell me...," Haldir finally began, his gaze fixed on hers. "Tell me it is not true." — Daëra couldn't find the courage in her to answer, yet Haldir seemed to think she didn't know what he meant. So after a while he continued and now the effort was clearly visible on his face. "Your mother. Was she... was she human?" — Daëra saw the pained look on his face and it was clear he did know everything. For some reason he had even found out what her decision would be. Which side she would choose.

Having all forgotten about her wet clothes, Daëra nodded, tears welling up in her eyes. Even though he must have known the answer, Haldir stared at her incredulously. "It cannot be," he breathed, his voice barely audible. Daëra tried to compose herself, she wanted to show him. She closed her eyes, imagining herself back at the Grey Havens, the place that had been her home for so long. She pictured her mother and her school friends, the smells that used to flow in from the outside: the typical smells of the market place, some flowers, but above all the salty scent of the sea. Daëra felt a shudder running through her body and when she opened her eyes, she was human. Or rather: she felt human again and according to Haldir's more than astonished expression it must be visible to him as well. Daëra exhaled. She had not allowed herself to do that for a long time: just letting everything go, not standing as straight as if she wanted to grow as tall as the trees, not hiding every slightest hint of emotion from her face, not trying to see through everything but letting intuition guide her. Not pretending to be one of the elves. "I told you, didn't I? On that very first day in the clearing: I said I could fool most eyes and ears. I can try and be like an elf, I can be like a human, depending on what people expect." Daëra tried to smile, but it cracked and faded in a matter of seconds. — "Which side are you going to choose?" Haldir's eyes confirmed Daëra in her belief that he already knew. He had to ask the question, though, nevertheless. Daëra shook her head and now she was crying. "I am no elf. I have never been one. Not on the inside."