*Hi there, I don't seem to be getting any reactions, but I'll finish the story anyway, since I'm not writing for the sole reason of pleasing anyone XD Please vote if you like it, but I will definitely keep on writing - I think Haldir deserves a happy ending. Love, Jazzlin*
When they finally reached their flet after a walk that had seemed to last forever to Haldir, it was already night time. Haldir felt as tired as he hadn't for a long while so he sat down in a comfortable chair and just closed his eyes to get some rest. He hadn't reckoned with his brothers, though. Orophin shut the door behind him and then sat down opposite Haldir. "Brother! - Come on, open your eyes. You have to explain to us how to fall off a tree. The boughs were so huge, I would not even have known how to do it, had I wanted to!" he teased. - Rumil came over to them as well. "I cannot believe they are thinking you jumped! Even..." he stopped. "Wait a second. That lady - Daëra - she said you had told her to jump with you. But you clearly never intended to leave the tree as prematurely as you did. She must have lied." - Orophin frowned. "She cannot have. Elves do not lie." - Haldir slowly opened his eyes. "She slipped, fell against me and pushed me off the branch in the process." - "She slipped?! And then lied?!" Orophin exclaimed. - "Why would she slip? How could she slip? - I thought she was a Silvan elf. A Wood Elf." Rumil's forehead was crinkled into a frown. - "She is." Haldir rubbed his eyes in an effort to keep them open. "I do not know why she slipped. It was an accident. They happen to dwarfs and humans and things all the time - or so I have been told." - "And then she lied to make up for it?" - "I guess so, yes. She said it was a 'white' lie." - Rumil crossed his arms. "Whatever that is supposed to mean. Lies do not have colours, since they are abstract." - "Thank you for reminding us, brother," Orophin remarked ironically. Haldir rolled his eyes at both of them. "It most likely means that to her it was not wrong to lie, since she had brought me into the awkward situation and was in this way trying to make up for it." - Rumil whistled through his teeth. "Still, I cannot believe she lied. I mean - what is ever going to keep us apart from humans and dwarfs, if we start acquiring all their bad habits?!" - "She has lived among humans for quite a while. You can also hear it when she speaks the elven tongue," Haldir offered as an excuse - and froze. Why had he just done that? Why would he defend her? Funnily enough, the next thing Orophin said gave him the answer: "You know what, brothers? She is weird. She does not really fit, if you know what I mean." - Haldir felt he could not stay focussed for much longer. "No, she does not. But then, neither do we."
Haldir was disturbed from his rest when he heard someone ascending the stairs to their flet. It was already morning and he felt a little bit better, although his wound was still hurting. Orophin looked through a window next to the door. "It is her. Daëra." - "She certainly wants to apologise," Rumil remarked and looked at his younger brother, nodding towards a window at the back of the hut. "We had better go; the caretakers of the Woods will be waiting for us." - Orophin frowned. "Do you think they will set off to work today? There might be a council of war first, and the woman is obviously still here as well..." - Rumil jumped onto the window sill, his gaze going to and fro between Haldir and the door. "We still have to go and check. Come on." - Orophin's face lit up. "Oh I see. Yes, we really have to do that. I apologise for leaving you, brother." With that, the two young elves jumped out of the window, not minding the height.
Only seconds later, a soft knock rang out from the door. Haldir forced himself to get up before calling to her to come in. Daëra entered, holding a basket with some fresh as well as dried herbs in her arms. She greeted Haldir and then stood in the middle of the room, frowning slightly. To his amazement Haldir realised that he found the expression of puzzlement on her face quite amusing. - "Where have your brothers gone? - I am sure I heard them when I went up the stairs." - "Yes, they were here - they have descended from the window sill." - Daëra looked critically at him with raised eyebrows. "They have... jumped out of the window?" - Haldir heard from her tone that for some reason Daëra thought he was making fun of her. "They did indeed. I am sure the elves of Lórien must do it sometimes as well - one gets so much quicker to the ground like that than by taking the stairs." - She relaxed. "You're right. I see." She craned her neck to see if she might get a glimpse of them on the ground, but they were already far gone as Haldir knew. - "Where are they headed?" - "I suppose they wanted to see whether the caretakers are on duty today." - Daëra put the basket on the floor and started rummaging in it. "They are. The forest never stops giving us new tasks." - Haldir scrutinised the herbs and tried to distinguish any, but none of them grew in Mirkwood. "Then why are you here today?" - "The Lady Galadriel told me to look after your wound, since I know a little bit about healing. May I have a look?"
Daëra stepped forward and plucked carefully at the shirt where the orc's sword had pierced it. It was hard from dried blood and the green colour had been spoilt to a dirty brown. Fortunately, the fabric wasn't sticking to the wound. It was obvious he would not be able to get out of the garment without irritating his shoulder. "We will have to cut your shirt," she observed, adding: "But I have brought you another one." - He just nodded, so Daëra drew a knife from her pocket and carefully placed a few long cuts so the fabric just fell off. She pretended to inspect the wound and stole a glance at his bare chest - muscular and broad and with hardly a scar. Daëra was surprised at that, she would have thought the elves of Mirkwood suffered a lot more dangerous injuries that would leave marks on their skin like the paths on a map. Yet then perhaps he was just an excellent swordsman. Well - that she knew for sure.
Tearing her eyes from him, Daëra produced a little pot from the basket and started to put some water and herbs in it. She felt his gaze on her, not quite sure yet whether she liked the feeling. "So you have talked to the Lady of the Woods." - "Yes..." She turned slightly to see his expression, but it wasn't giving anything away. - "She did not say anything about your errand or how long you and your brothers will be staying," Daëra finally added, guessing it was what he had wanted to hear. "Although..." She stood up with the pot in her hand, since the brew was now warm and smelling of tree skin and autumn leaves. - "Although?" He stepped back suspiciously when she soaked a cloth in the warm water. - "Although she said if you and your brothers were staying here longer, she would ask you to join her wardens. Cirya must have praised you a lot." There! A small smile had spread over his face. Daëra had to bite her lip to prevent herself from doing it as well and then having to explain to him why she was smiling. "So this means you probably won't be staying for much longer." The smile on his lips faded and was replaced by... determination? He was still keeping her at a distance. "It is not going to hurt," Daëra remarked softly. - "I was not..." Haldir froze immediately and stretched up to full size as much as was possible with his injury. His whole body tensed when the wet cloth touched his shoulder. Soon though he realised it really didn't hurt and relaxed again.
For a few minutes, Daëra kept washing the wound, closely watched by Haldir. She felt she had to find something to say, yet she had no idea at all as to what he would want to talk about, so she just continued washing the dried blood off. When the wound was clean, Daëra pulled a small box filled with an ointment from her basket. "This might sting a little bit," she warned. Haldir eyed the wooden container suspiciously, but didn't move. - "It will help the healing process: it is made with the dried leaves of a Mellorn Tree." - "How do you know?" - Daëra smiled. "I made it." - Haldir flinched when she applied the ointment, yet apart from that his clenched fists were the only hint that the disinfecting effect was already starting to work. "You must be quite learned in healing," he observed. Daëra's eyes shot up to meet his. "Me? - Oh no! I mean... Well, I do know a little bit... But I will be going to Imladris soon. Elladan promised me his father would teach me the art of healing." Her gaze dropped to the floor. She hated leaving Lórien, even though she would be returning someday - in a few decades, perhaps even earlier. Yet she had to go, there was no avoiding it. Daëra had already talked to the Lord and Lady of the Golden Wood and everything would be ready soon for her journey to Rivendell, as the humans were calling it.
With gritted teeth but stoically bearing the pain, Haldir was slowly putting on the new shirt. Daëra picked up the basket and held it firmly in both hands to prevent herself from venturing to help him and possibly hurting his pride. She realised just then that the plaits at the sides of his head looked slightly ruffled - she must have woken him. "How are you feeling?" - He slowly rotated his shoulder. "It could be worse... I suppose," he finally answered slowly. Daëra felt the guilt bubbling up and she knew she would have blushed, if elves were able to do so. She avoided his glance, feeling the heat from inside even though it didn't show on her pale skin. Things always had to be complicated with her - usually she felt sort of secure up in the trees, she hadn't fallen down for ages... But of course she was bound to make a fool of herself precisely when twenty orcs were waiting down below and someone else had to bear the consequences. Haldir would be in pain during his whole stay in Lórien only because of her.
Suddenly he was standing right in front of her. "I did not mean to insult you," he said and then added - with a slight question in his voice: "I am sure your ointment will do... what it is supposed to do. Thank you." - Daëra lifted her chin and met his gaze. "It is the least I can do."
A few seconds passed and suddenly Haldir realised that her look was going right through him, as if he had disappeared. She frowned, murmuring: "Or is it..?" Her eyes watched him critically. "I could try to actually heal it, not completely, but it would certainly make a difference. The procedure would hurt though - just as if the blade would pierce you all over again." She paused for a few seconds. "You would be as good as new come the day after tomorrow." - "Really?!" Haldir was surprised at himself, yet he couldn't stop himself from exclaiming. Wounds like that usually took weeks to heal. "Where did you learn to do that?" - She smiled slightly. "The Elves at Mithlond have their secrets as well." - "How do you do it?" - She reached out and put her hand where the gash was beneath his shirt. "We are using the healing power of fire."
During the course of the fight and with the after-effects of the fall he had hardly realised when the orc stabbed him. After only a few seconds of healing though, Haldir thought it couldn't possibly have hurt much more, he would have realised... or would he? The heat kept growing and growing, entering his body through his wound and filling every vein with pure fire. His eyes locked with Daëra's - hers were filled with flames: invisible, but they were there, preventing him from telling her to stop this wicked magic. Her eyes and the fluid fire inside him: they were killing him, but at the same time the only thing keeping him on his feet.
When Daëra jerked her hand away Haldir stumbled back a few steps, carefully touching his shoulder to make sure it wasn't charred - yet his skin was even strangely cool. Daëra blinked a few times and the flames in her eyes vanished. "I am sorry," she whispered. "Are you alright? - I told you it would hurt." - "I'm... fine," Haldir somehow managed to say before grabbing the back of a chair for support. Slowly the flames inside him seemed to be dying down and he straightened his back, taking deep breaths. - "Do sit down," she advised, adding: "You will feel better in a couple of minutes. I know it feels as if the fire was burning ones insides to charcoal. But it really does work." - After a few seconds of consideration, Haldir yielded and allowed himself to sit down. "This has been done to you before?" - "Yes... quite often, actually." She smiled as if she were recalling pleasant memories from a long time ago. "I have had... the one or other accident during my travels." - "Elladan can do this? For you were travelling with him, were you not?" Haldir spoke while still concentrating on his breathing. The fire was more and more receding to the gash, leaving him feeling slightly chilly. Daëra shook her head. "No. My father used to heal me; he could do it from afar. Yet only if I was on the Western side of the Misty Mountains - not even his powers could reach farther than that." - "When will you be leaving for Imladris?" Haldir didn't even quite know why he was asking the question. - "I don't know yet. Elladan will bring his sister Arwen to Lothlórien so she can stay with Galadriel and Celeborn who are her grandparents. I will be travelling back to Riven... Imladris with him." - Haldir raised his eyebrows in surprise. "You are used to saying the human word for Elrond's home." - She bit her lip. "I have lived among humans for a long while when I was a child. Many of them are living at the Grey Havens; they are just as fascinated by the sea as we are. My father has always been a busy man and my mother..." She broke off. Haldir lowered his eyes. "I am sorry."
Daëra straightened her shoulders, taking a deep breath. "Anyway, I shall meet Arwen - it is said she is the most beautiful lady walking the earth. It is said she owns that certain beauty no one can even be jealous of - everyone, male or female, just loves her. But until now she has been walking alone." - "I have heard of her." Haldir felt he was not as keen to meet her as he had thought he would be. And he was even less keen to meet her brother, for some strange reason. "So you do not know yet when Arwen and Elladan will arrive?" - "No... I have to confess though I hope they will not come until summer - I have always wanted to see Lórien in summer." - Haldir frowned slightly. "With you having travelled so much - how come you have never been here in summer before?" - Her gaze wandered to the now leafless boughs and Haldir knew she was imagining them being laden with golden leaves. "Middle-Earth is bigger than one would expect. I have been travelling for almost a hundred years and not even seen three quarters of it." - Haldir rose from his chair in astonishment. "For a hundred years only? Did you not start to travel early in your life?" For a second Haldir feared he might have insulted her, yet her answer was accompanied by a soft laugh. "Indeed, I have. I am 145 years of age." - During their talk Haldir had almost forgotten his injured shoulder and now that he remembered it he noticed that moving it didn't hurt half as much as it had five minutes before. He still felt a bit wobbly on his feet though, so he lowered himself slowly back into the chair. He had thought she was much older. She seemed to be. "Your father let you travel at the age of 45?" In the middle of her reckless years? - Her father could count himself lucky his daughter was still alive. - Daëra looked at him with a puzzled expression. "Yes, he did. Why would he not?" - Haldir figured to compensate his lack of time for her, her father must have granted her everything she wanted. He didn't quite know what to say.
"I will... Well, I will just come back tomorrow, but you should be fine." Daëra moved towards the door. "Will you be joining the caretakers again? You should be able to in a day or two - if you wanted." - Haldir nodded. "Yes, certainly. Why would I not want to?" - She raised her shoulders. "I do not know... The orcs perhaps." - This time he actually smiled. "I have seen far worse things in Mirkwood. Do not worry about me." - She smiled back. "I will see you soon, then." - "Yes. Soon."