*Hi guys, this chapter starts a bit slow, I know, but please keep going - the real stuff is starting pretty exactly half-way through the chappie. Enjoy!!!*
He was on his way to leave Caras Galadhon to be in time for the beginning of his shift, when he heard the voices. He would just have continued walking - there were many people talking at all times of day in the city - had not one voice been a female one he recognised. He knew the other one as well, it was Elladan of Imladris. He sounded agitated. "Why did you not tell me?" - "It was supposed to be a secret. No one really knows besides Galadriel and your father - and my own father, of course." - He dared not move, listening closely. It wasn't like him to eavesdrop, but this time he felt he had to. It was Elladan talking next. "You cannot be both. You will have to decide, just like all the others." - Her answer came hesitantly. "Yes... It's just so difficult." - "How could it be difficult? Why would you want to be like your... mother? She is dead now, is she not?" - "Of course she is... you don't understand... I grew up being like her, to put it in your words. It is what I am. Deep down." - "So why are you still... Why have you not decided yet?" - She sighed. "I promised my father I would try it out first... the other way. I promised him I would try it out as long as I could, stay in between the two until the Valar would make me decide." - "And when will that day come?" - "Soon."
He hurried on, trying to forget what he'd heard, maybe he had misunderstood... but he couldn't, the incident was burnt into his memories. Just as he could not make himself believe it had not been her talking. He had to go and find his brother, perhaps he knew what to do. And he left.
"I will have to set off soon." Haldir knew she was awake, she had woken up when he had slightly moved the arm her had had been resting on, but she had pretended to sleep on. - "Why?" she mumbled, as if she didn't know. - "Duty," Haldir sighed. For once, he did not actually want to go - although he was eager to see whether there had been any problems during his absence. Yet then, he had only been off for three days and if something of consequence had happened, his brothers would already have told him last night. Daëra sat up, smiling. "In that case, I suppose I should get dressed." - Haldir smiled mockingly. "You? I gather you are you coming as well? Or you might have decided to join the wardens." - Daëra had already started to put on her clothes and stuck out her tongue at him. "Don't be ridiculous, I will not be joining the wardens. Yet I am meaning to see you off. I will walk you to the outskirts of Lórien." - Haldir looked at her for a few seconds and then nodded slowly. Daëra threw a stern glance at him. "I can defend myself, you know that now. Do not worry." - "I am not... Well, I am... You are not going to set the Golden Wood on fire by accident, are you?" - Daëra wanted to throw something at him, yet there wasn't much else in the hut than several of his tunics. So she took one of them and flung it at him: "Get dressed." - Haldir smiled and got up to do as he was told. It was still dark outside when they left.
They didn't talk much, the cool air still felt weird on the new skin on his left arm, but he had grown good at not showing it to Daëra - although Haldir wasn't sure she actually fell for it. It was almost noon when Haldir - following a sudden impulse - reached out to grab her hand, turning her around to face him. She laughed and then whispered: "We're in the middle of a road!" If one could call the grassy paths of Lórien "roads". Haldir listened out, cocking his head to underline the action. "I do not hear anyone approach." He pulled her close until their cheeks were touching and said quietly: "I do not know when I will be back in Caras Galadhon. Usually, I am spending a greater deal of my time out here than in the city." - Daëra nodded. "I could come and visit you - if you want me to, that is." - He smiled against her skin. "I think I should like that." He turned his head and his lips brushed hers. Her fingers closed around the strap that fastened his quiver to his back and she pulled his face down to hers, deepening the kiss. The sun rose and his rays made the first golden leaves on the boughs sparkle. Haldir though didn't really notice - in fact, he wouldn't even have realised if somebody were coming towards them on the road. Slightly out of breath, Haldir finally broke the kiss, remembering he had to be somewhere. He smiled slightly. "I am late. Come on." He took her hand and they set off again.
The way back to Caras Galadhon seemed to be much longer than what Daëra and Haldir had walked in the morning. Haldir's injury was about healed, leaving some scars. It was almost summer in Lórien and on her walk Daëra breathed in the warm air. To keep her thoughts occupied, she spontaneously decided to take a different route to the city, one she had never walked before. In case she lost her way she would only have to say she needed help and a warden would hear her. Besides, when she put her ring on and reached out, she would be able to feel the boundaries of the forest and Caras Galadhon. She would find her way. This part of the forest didn't differ much from the parts Daëra already knew; here and there the first golden leaves were sprouting on the branches of the mellorn trees, reflecting the last sunlight of the day.
Suddenly though, Daëra stepped through a line of trees and found herself on a beautiful, grassy clearing. In the middle of it there were some horses grazing - most of them were grey: grey as a horse-colour meaning white, and those horses actually were white. White as snow, white as moonlight. Those were Lórien horses, Daëra was sure of it. The others were horses elves had brought from different places; Daëra recognised her own bay steed that Elrond had given her. Contrary to the nature of horses, those didn't flee when they saw Daëra standing at the rim of the clearing. Instead, they just stopped eating grass and lifted their heads, looking at her with their intelligent eyes. Carefully and avoiding any sudden movements, Daëra stepped closer. The horses never moved, her own even came a little bit closer until it was standing in front of her. Daëra reached out and stroked its soft muzzle, before working her way up his nose to his forehead and down his neck. She whispered words to him in the elven tongue and he nudged her with his nose. Daëra could have stayed with the horses forever, but she knew if she didn't leave now, she would have to stay in a flet again - and this time on her own. Haldir was on duty and he would be the next few days. Being the March Warden, he usually walked the Wood having his eyes and ears everywhere and merely checking on Caras Galadhon once in a while.
Heavy-heartedly, Daëra said good-bye to the horses but kept in mind where the clearing was situated to be able to find her way back. Now that she knew they were there, she would even be able to reach out for them. The feeling she got of the world surrounding her when she was reaching out with her ring was always somewhat blurry, especially if she didn't know the land she was reaching out to - it was difficult to distinguish forms or even determine what they were in real life.
It was already high noon when Daëra heard steps closing in on her from two sides. Since they were clearly elves she wasn't scared - yet she knew immediately they were here for her. They were left and right from her, hidden by the trunks of the trees, but coming closer to her with every step. Daëra didn't like this game of tag so she stopped dead, forcing the elves to reveal themselves. And they did, two elves who were looking quite similar at first glance. "Rumil, Orophin. Good day." - They greeted her as well but then stayed quiet, as if either were thinking the other would start to talk. Daëra frowned and then stated: "You have been searching for me, I gather?" Looking at his brother in an annoyed manner, Orophin finally cleared his throat and said: "Yes indeed, we have. We were wondering whether... whether it is correct that Elladan is back in Lórien?" - Daëra nodded slowly. "It is true, yes. He was, rather, since he left yesterday morning." - "You talked to him..?" - Daëra stared at the brothers, wondering where this talk was going. "I did indeed. What is it you want? Has something happened to him?" She felt how her heartbeat increased. He couldn't be... Orophin obviously wasn't comfortable in his skin. "Elladan is alright, but we were..." - Rumil stepped forward, elbowing his brother aside. "Right, the way I see it we have to stop pretending right now. What Orophin means to say is: he overheard you." - All colour drained from Daëra's face. "What... what did you hear?" - "Enough to have us set you up here to get some definite answers." - Daëra briefly closed her eyes. It couldn't be, please, it couldn't... she'd been so careful... - "Your mother. She was human, was she not?" - Daëra didn't answer, her whole world was starting to spin, but Rumil didn't let go. "You are a half-breed, are you not? Half human, half elf?" - She took a deep breath. "Yes. That's what I am."
For a few seconds it was silent, only a few birds didn't seem to notice the sudden tension. Then Orophin rubbed his forehead. "The Valar granted half-breeds the choice whether they want to be an elf or a human. You... you want to completely join the humans, do you not?" - At that, Daëra looked at him, her eyes brimming with tears. "Can you not see? - I don't fit the beautiful, flawless world of the elves! I grew up with my mother, in the human district of the Grey Havens. Until the age of eight I never suspected I was different, yet even after my mother told me I had only human friends, I went to a human school, never knowing I did have a choice. I thought me having pointy ears were the only elven part of me. My mother died way before her time and it was only after her death that I met my father. He took me to the elven district of town, teaching me archery and sword-fighting and finally telling me I would have to choose. Up to then I had planned to return to the human district once he had finished teaching me and I told him to his face I wanted to choose to be human like my mother and all my friends. I never had elf friends in Mithlond; the elves were sensing I was different... But my father had me promise I would first experience the world of the elves before I came to my final decision. I just... I don't belong here. I mean, I cannot run as quick, I don't control all my movements, I make exclamations, I fall off trees..."
Daëra wiped the tears away she'd only just noticed were running down her cheeks. Both brothers had their arms crossed. Rumil screwed up his forehead. "I am not even saying I do not see your point..." he hesitated and then continued: "I was just wondering whether I am right in assuming that you do not know many of the elven stories, since you have grown up in... human company? Elven stories are not like human ones... for usually, they are true." - Daëra shook her head. Rumil's voice was stern. "Then you probably do not know what happens if an elf and a human fall in love? Have never heard of Béren and Lúthien? - Béren was a man and Lúthien the most beautiful elf walking the earth at that time. Arwen is said to be a spitting image of her." - Daëra lowered her eyes. "The human lover dies, I suppose, leaving the elf in grief." - Rumil laughed bitterly. "I wish it were just that, for grief is something that eventually can be overcome, after six to ten centuries, I would say. Yet no, there is more to it. If an elf loves a human, he gives up his immortality. The spirit of the Valar will leave him, but after his human partner has died, he will linger on - for a few centuries at least - drowning in grief, but not near long enough to get over it. At some point, finally, he will die, cold and alone. He will never see the Undying Lands: it is said death was a gift granted to men by the Gods, yet no one actually knows, since no one has ever returned." Not even the birds were singing anymore - or if they did, Daëra didn't hear them. Orophin touched her shoulder; his voice was somehow soft and hard at the same time. "Now do tell me, sweet Daëra: why would you want to inflict this fate upon Haldir?" - Daëra wrenched free from his grasp. "I would never make him do anything like that for me! I would forbid him to do it!" - Orophin sighed. "I fear you do not see the point. To give up immortality is a decision felled by the elf, yet it is not explicit - it is not like your decision between humanity and elvendom. An elf cannot say 'I want to be mortal now' and it will happen. It is the decision to want to stay with you, no matter where you might go. It is the wish to be able to go wherever you will go. If two people love each other, no matter what race they might be, this wish must be there: love cannot live without it. If an elf really loves a human, this wish will be there. It cannot be avoided. If an elf truly loves a human, the decision will be already made."
Rumil looked left and right as if to make sure no one was approaching. "Orophin and I fear for our brother, Daëra. Never really knowing our parents, us is all we have. So what I am telling you now is: either you break up your relationship with Haldir - and I mean in a permanent way, he cannot long for you anymore: he has got to hate you, do you understand? Or of course you decide to become an elf." - Every word of his felt like a stab in Daëra's belly, the world had started dancing around her, she could hardly stand. "I cannot do that. I do not belong into the world of elves. They told me. Can't you see? In a dream. The Valar told me. They said I was meant to be like my mother. They said I would be like her." Sobs had started to shake her uncontrollably. It was all clear now. Why she had never met her father while her mother was alive: he had withdrawn, distanced himself from the woman he had loved and the child she had born to prevent himself from losing his immortality. He wouldn't be able to fulfil his task if he died. Perhaps he hadn't ever really loved her mother - but Daëra had suspected that long ago. - "Then you know what you have to do, Daëra," Orophin said, his voice dark, but sad as well. "I wish I could help you, yet you know that my brother would neither believe nor even listen to us. We could never talk him out of your relationship. You will have to do it - soon." - "Orophin and I want to play safe: he has to hate you. It is the only way of making sure that he will never be tempted again. Disappoint him, cheat on him, hurt his pride. Lie to him. He is never going to forgive any of it. Crush his heart if this is what you have to do. He will get over it, eventually. If you refuse to do it, you will condemn him. He will die. Because of you."
Daëra didn't remember when they left. All of a sudden it was dusk and they were gone and her tears wet the earth beneath her. They were right, she knew they were, Daëra had just refused to see it up to now, had avoided any thoughts that had to do with it. If his brothers knew how long it had been... The first council in Rivendell Haldir had been sent to in the Lord and Lady's stead had taken place only a few years after Daëra's departure. After that Elrond's vale had been on his travelling plans so frequently that Daëra couldn't help but wonder whether Galadriel sent him so often on purpose, whether she knew. Yet surely if the Lady had known she would have put an end to it, she had known the stories after all and she wouldn't want to lose her best warden. Daëra told herself to be strong and that it was the right thing to do, but life did not know right and wrong. Life was like fire: warm and light-giving and beautiful - until you got caught. Then it tortured and slowly, very slowly - killed.
!!CAREFUL, THE A/N SPOILERS THE ENDING OF ARWEN & ARAGORN'S RELATIONSHIP IN THE LOTR-BOOKS!!
*A/N: Again to all readers who haven't read Tolkien's fabulous books: it is true that an elf who decides to become mortal still does live longer than his/her human partner. There is an appendix to LOTR in which Tolkien tells how the story of Arwen and Aragorn continues: it is rather sad, since Aragorn after 80 years decides to die (he's a decendant of the Numenor-humans, so he can actually choose his time of death up to a point) before he's all senile. Arwen after that lives on in Middle-Earth until she finally dies in what is left of Lórien. *crying big fat tears*
Anyway, I hope you enjoyed the chapter. I'm not one of those people who blackmail their readers like "next update when I have 10 more votes", but I'd still be VERY happy, if you COMMENT and VOTE!!!
Lots of love, Jazzlin***