Before going on, please remember that the characters in this story have their origin, directly or otherwise, in J.R.R. Tolkien's writings, especially The Lord of the Rings. This short story, in all its pieces and parts, is an exercise in creativity for my own enjoyment and the enjoyment of any others who happen across it. It was inspired by the character Haldir, of whom we know very little both in the book and movie versions of the story. No compensation was solicited for this story and none is sought. I have taken the liberty of adjusting the universe to match that detailed in Peter Jackson's movie version of The Lord of the Rings. Robert Foster's The Complete Guide to Middle Earth, was also used as a reference in creating the story. I do not own the copyright to any of the foregoing, and hope the owners will continue to permit the inevitable flowering of fan fiction that occurs when a story or character captures the imagination.
Of Matters of Healing
A Haldir Story
She ran through the darkened woods, holding her father’s cloak tightly around her. Her breath came hard as she stumbled and fell over roots that reached out for her feet. Coming to a wide stream she stopped, wildly looking for a hiding place. Near the stream sat a massive tree with an opening in its stem, just the right size to hide in. She threw herself into it, crouching into a small ball. Listening, she heard her mother’s cries; faint and full of distress. Her father’s voice was a little louder, calling her name and imploring her to come back. But she would not go back. No, not back to those Elves with bows and arrows and long knives. They chased her when she went exploring in the forest and argued with her father, himself an Elf. Then there was the water skin they wanted her mother to drink from. Her mother refused and cried. Certain of danger, Melyanna slipped away from the group and ran as a forest deer runs for shelter from the huntsman. They would never see her here.
“Why are you hiding?” came the question, and she jumped back, pressing herself even more deeply (if that were possible) into the tree stem.
“Why are you hiding?” she heard again.
She felt a burning constriction that made it very hard to breathe. Her heart was thudding its way out of her chest as a dull roar surrounded her. She looked slowly towards the voice and saw enough to keep the terror alive, for the speaker was an Elf. He was as blond as the others, of that she was certain though she could not see his face clearly for it was full dark and no moon. He sat with his legs crossed at the ankles, his hands clasped around his knees.
“Why are you hiding?” he asked a third time.
She opened her mouth, but nothing issued forth. The sound of her father’s voice caught her ear and she turned toward it. Suddenly her father was all she wanted and he was far away. Her Elf companion leaned slightly forward, also listening.
“Is that your father?” he asked.
“Yes” she squeaked, surprised at hearing her own voice.
“Why you can talk! I thought perhaps you had no voice at all,” he said, and his was quite gentle. “I can take you back to him. Would you like that?” he asked.
“I can’t go back,” she whispered.
“Why?” he whispered back.
“The Elves chased me and they were mean and made my mother cry. I’m afraid” and her voice trailed off for she was very near tears.
“Are you afraid of me?”
She shook her head and then nodded, the tears finally flowing. The Elf slowly reached over and pulled her next to him, wrapping his arms around her and using the edges of her father’s cloak to wipe the tears off her face.
“You know we are your father’s people don’t you?”
She could only nod as she continued to cry.
“We would not let any hurt or harm come to you, you are safe with us,” he told her.
“Then why were the Elves so mean and make my mother cry?” she sobbed, suddenly emboldened.
The Elf was silent for a moment, and then replied, “I don’t know. Shall we go find your mother and ask?”
He cocked his head toward the distant sound of her father’s voice and spoke again, “I think now would be a good time to go back. I promise you will be quite safe with me. Shall we go?”
“Yes” she answered, and suddenly her crying ended and it seemed the roaring had gone and her heart did not beat so hard. This Elf was different. He had not been mean and he had treated her kindly. Surely he would keep the others away.
The Elf picked her up, and carried her in the direction of her father’s voice, lifting his own in an Elven song that she did not understand. Another voice answered and they briefly sang together then fell silent. There was no sound save that of forest creatures and a breeze rustling the trees. Ahead on the left a light glowed, and the Elf turned toward it. In a few moments he brought her to her father, standing in the glow of a small silver lamp set on a tree stump. Her father drew very near and she flung herself at him, hugging his neck tightly and wrapping her legs about his torso. He whispered her name, holding her securely, and she never felt safer.
“Such an adventure” said the Elf. “You must be thirsty. Would you like a drink of water?” and as he spoke he held up a small water skin. She remembered the earlier scene that had sent her fleeing and looked around uneasily. There was no one besides her father and her rescuer, who she still could not see clearly.
“We must go to your mother, but I think a drink of water now would ease the journey,” said her father and he held out his hand for the skin.
So she drank from the Elf’s water skin and as he put the stopper in he paused and asked her if she wanted more. She shook her head, and then put her head down on her father’s shoulder suddenly tired. The Elf stood behind her, stroking her head and back.
“Sleep now little one,” he said, his voice soothing. “Rest, and leave your fears behind.”
Her eyes became so heavy she could no longer stay awake, and sleep finally overtook her…..
Landris looked over the small pack he made for the journey. It was just enough to take them to the Golden Wood. He had not wanted to do this, but Dera had gone too far. Melyanna had a natural gift for healing and Landris was teaching her what he knew much to his wife’s dismay. She feared his Elven kin would become jealous and take their daughter away, and she always referred to the night five years past as proof. She never understood elvish ways, despite all his efforts to explain. He remembered what he saw in Galadriel’s Mirror, and knew Melyanna was meant to be a healer among the race of Men. Now his wife, who he loved, was filling his daughter with her own fears and Melyanna was having troubled dreams nearly every night. She could never remember the details, but Landris suspected it had to do with Dera’s version of that long ago evening. Melyanna was never in danger, but Dera believed otherwise and continually told his daughter so. No, the time had come to leave his wife and take his daughter to his kin so the best natural healers in Middle Earth could hone her skills. He told Dera that he and Melyanna were going to search for herbs, and they left early the next morning.
Five days later and they were only one day’s journey from Lothlórien. His eyes searched the horizon for the escort he was told would meet them. Melyanna had no idea where they were going, and spent her time happily scouting for herbs and flowers. Her interest and knowledge, even at such a young age, filled Landris with joy. He had made the right decision. Galadriel said life as a Mortal would have a high price, and if losing Dera were that price then he would pay it. He spent his life sharing his knowledge with others, especially Men, to the distress of his reclusive kin. His marriage to Dera pained them the more and the incident five years ago made things worse. Still, they sent word that he and his daughter would be welcome at their hearths. Landris had finally accepted. By the evening of the next day they would be inside the Golden Wood, safe from harm and Dera’s fears. He looked lovingly at his young daughter, her long brown braid tossing behind her as she scampered about the ground. Whatever darkness Dera had laid upon Melyanna was not in evidence on this day. But suddenly a new darkness imposed itself; the smell of Orc.
Landris looked across the western horizon and saw a small band coming their way. Not more than three individuals. The wind had changed and the smell was quite strong. How could he have been so careless! He looked in the direction of the Golden Wood and could just make out the band of Elves running toward him. A quick assessment told him the Orc would get there first. He had to protect his daughter.
Melyanna had ridden far in the summer sun and the Golden Wood was just ahead. It seemed to call to her and she thought she heard “Sanctuary.” Her horse was straining, foaming on the bit and dripping with sweat. He needed rest more than she did, but Orcs were in pursuit. The attack on the small company she traveled with had been devastating. She fled with the screams of the dying in her ears. There was nothing she could have done. Anyone taken captive would soon be begging for death’s sweet release for death now was a mercy that would be denied later. The forest of Lothlórien offered the only refuge, but would the Elves protect her even as Orcs trailed behind?
Coming upon the forest’s boundary she crossed the Nimrodel and pulled up her horse, dismounting and loosening the cinch. She allowed him the briefest swallow of water, and then led him at a fast trot into the forest. Only a quarter mile in would she dare to go. Elrond of Rivendell had cautioned her that a hospitable welcome was not a certainty, even though she be half-Elven and Lothlórien home to her father’s kin. She looked about uneasily, watching for shadows that were not shadows. Elven cloaks could hide much from prying eyes, as she learned wearing her father’s cloak. Horse and woman stumbled over a root and, grabbing his mane to steady herself, she nearly walked into a thicket of arrows.
Her mouth went suddenly dry. Were her mother’s fears true after all?
“I am Melyanna, daughter of Landris, healer to Beornings and Woodmen. Orcs pursue me and I beg your protection,” she blurted out.
Not a proper introduction, but it would have to do.
An Elf standing behind the ring of arrows stepped forward, an air of authority, almost imperious, engulfing him.
“We know who you are. Do servants of the Dark Lord always travel behind you?” he asked.
Her jaw tightened. She was too tired to be diplomatic.
“If I served Sauron you would have fired arrows instead of insults,” she snapped.
Haldir allowed himself only the briefest grin. So, it was true that the daughter of Landris had spirit. He was certain she was no servant of the Dark Lord. Elrond sent many messages during her time in Rivendell. She had proven herself a healer whose skill exceeded her father’s, and approached Elrond’s. So impressed was Elrond, he encouraged the Elves of the Golden Wood to welcome her should she have need of their help. No doubt she served the race of Men well. Her arrival was not entirely unexpected for the Lady of the Wood had summoned Haldir and told him she would appear one day. But Galadriel had not described the particulars saying only; She carries a darkness within her that must be dispelled before you bring her to our city. We are the cause and we must heal it lest it keep her forever in its grasp, to our sorrow. Yet do not trouble her, for the truth will reveal itself and you will know what to do.
He gave a nod to the others who sped off in the direction whence she had come, bows at the ready.
“They will make short work of the Orcs,” he said.
“So certain are you.” She was not sure he was right.
Both turned their attention to her horse, still heaving from the arduous run.
“Come this way,” he told her. “I know a place where he can rest.”
He led the way along a dim path through the forest and she followed, horse in tow. She was certain now the Elves would protect her, but she was filled with unease. She did not wish to go far from the forest perimeter for the sun’s fingers of light were becoming fewer as the canopy above thickened. There could be no retreat in the dark on a strange path.
“I need but an hour, perhaps two, and we will leave and trouble you no more,” she said.
Haldir was surprised.
“You beg our protection yet are anxious to take leave of us. Yours is a strange gratitude,” he said.
She felt the hot blush of embarrassment climbing her face.
“Forgive me, I meant no offence. It is well known that the Elves of Lórien hold themselves apart from all others. Were it not for the Orcs I would be elsewhere, for I count myself a stranger to you and therefore suspect. I did not wish to trouble you too long with my presence,” she finished.
“Not entirely a stranger. We know much about you and you have the favor of the Lady,” he said.
Melyanna did not know what to say to this. Her mother feared the Elves even as she loved Landris, who chose the life of a Mortal and joined himself to her. Many times she told her daughter the Elves were not to be trusted. They would steal Melyanna away and subject her to some dark and fearsome doom. Her mother’s fears echoed a dark memory that haunted Melyanna’s dreams, which she could never fully remember. All the same she studied at Rivendell, an Elf haven, and been undisturbed. Yet even Elrond warned Melyanna not to expect too much of her father’s kin. Now this Elf was telling her that she was welcome in a place she had avoided all her life. It was an unexpected moment.
“I am pleased to know I am welcome here, but who it is that welcomes me?” she asked.
“I am Haldir,” he replied.
They took another turn down the path and it suddenly opened into a small, bright clearing with a spring bubbling up into a streamlet.
“We leave horse and saddle here,” said Haldir. “You will sleep elsewhere.”
“Where?”
“Where Orcs must climb,” he answered.
Leaving the horse tethered to a sapling and carrying her saddlebags the two went back the way they came. A short walk and Haldir led her off towards the Nimrodel then stopped within view of the river. She remembered her father’s descriptions of talans and how the Elves of Lothlórien lived on them. There was no staircase circling any tree nearby and the stems had no handhold that she could see.
“Master Haldir, by what magic would you take me up there?” she asked.
For an answer he whistled, low and sweet like a songbird. A ladder made of Elven rope dropped in front of them. It felt like silk to her fingers though she knew its strength was beyond the ordinary. She climbed up carefully, a long way from the forest floor. Above she could see the shadow of a talan and the opening in its floor. A hand reached through the entry as she neared the end of the rope and helped her onto the flet. She dared not look down to see how high she was. Haldir appeared behind her with the bags, then drew up the rope and closed the trapdoor.
“I must look to my duties, but I shall return and we will talk,” he said, and then both Elves turned and climbed down the tree.
Looking around, she found a packet of lembas bread and broke off a small corner. At least there was food, and she could lean against the tree stem and steady herself against a fall to the ground. The dark green of the trees turned to purple and grey as the sun disappeared. She looked up through the branches and leaves for a glimpse of the night sky. A faint breeze brushed against her and rustled the leaves long enough to let a star peek down at her sanctuary.
“Sanctuary” she thought, “is what I have.”
Closing her eyes and breathing deeply, she felt a sense of peace and it seemed she heard a whispered “Welcome” that caused her to sigh with relief. Exhausted, she fell at once into sleep. She awoke with a start, her heart pounding as if she had run for miles. It was the old dream again, barely remembered but still there. The dream was so real yet it vanished into the ether when she awoke, and she could never recall the details; only the fear and the dark, and the threat from Elves.
“Is all well?” came the question and she looked about, bumping into someone beside her. It was Haldir.
“You cried out in your sleep,” he said.
“I….I sometimes have unpleasant dreams,” she said as she moved slightly away, careful of the edge of the talan.
“You are a healer, you know what draughts can prevent such dreams.”
“But then I would never know the why of the dream,” she said.
Haldir considered this answer. Indeed, one could avoid unpleasantness, but then never learn the why, which could end it forever.
“Dawn is many hours away,” he told her, “and the Orcs are slain. You may sleep in peace this night. My brothers and I will keep watch. And I won’t let you fall," he added, as she arranged a secure sleeping posture.
He watched her gather the grey Elven cloak about herself and try to settle back into sleep, but he suspected it would be a struggle. He knew the cloak was her father’s. It hid her when the Orcs attacked over 30 years ago and killed him. Haldir had not expected the daughter of Landris to run away when Elves came to her aid. No doubt her mother’s fears spurred that retreat for she was only ten. Yet she had gone to Rivendell to study the healing craft from Elrond. It was said that Radagast the Brown, knowledgeable in herbs, encouraged her to claim her Elven heritage, thus her journey to Elrond’s domain. Elrond’s reports had been encouraging. Perhaps she bore some care for her father’s kin after all.
All the same, her earlier cries had been muffled, but they were full of fear. Where did this dream come from? Haldir remembered the first time he saw her. Landris wanted to visit his Elven kin and brought his small family along. Melyanna was barely five years old and running about the forest as if born there. Haldir reflected on that long ago night and suddenly understood. Yes! The draught tried to do its work, but her mother had somehow kept the dark memory alive and it lived in Melyanna’s dreams. Now he knew what Galadriel meant, for the truth will reveal itself and you will know what to do. Haldir was sure he knew the truth, but he wasn’t as certain of the rest. It would have to wait until morning.
Listening closely he knew by her breathing that she was on the edge of sleep. He sang an Elven song, low and soft, that spoke of starry skies and pleasant dreams. Reaching over, he pulled her against his chest and felt her stir as if to wake. He hummed the song and her body relaxed into slumber. There would be no more unpleasant dreams this night.
Haldir believed the Orc band they destroyed was the last for the night, but it soon became clear that was not to be. Orophin returned from a short patrol with disturbing news, and Rúmil was sent to Caras Galadhon to alert the guards. Haldir left the talan, and the sleeping Melyanna, to arrange an ambush. It was a small band of Orcs and the Elves succeeded in routing them, but not without a casualty among their number. Haldir went straightaway to the talan and woke Melyanna.
“Come Healer, we have need of your skills,” and with that he disappeared through the talan’s entry with her saddlebags across his shoulder, dropping the rope into place as he did so.
She went down and followed him to a small clearing lit by a few silver lamps and holding several Elves. There was an Elf lying on the ground, clearly in pain. She knelt beside him and felt the aura of death and shadow hovering nearby. An arrow had pierced his shoulder, with both ends sticking out from his flesh.
“Steady him” she said, “and bring my bags.”
She quickly found the implement she needed to cut the feathered shaft from the arrow and pull the rest through. The Elf gasped in more pain, his eyes rolling back. Several water skins appeared, all with various draughts in them.
“Give me one for pain,” she said.
One was handed to her. Lifting the stopper, she held it to the Elf’s lips. He drank weakly, his head and shoulders cradled by an Elf that looked younger than all the others. A lamp was held directly over the wounded Elf’s shoulder and she touched it gently on both sides, noting a sticky substance. Wiping her hands on a clean cloth she asked for the arrow and examined it with care. It was as she suspected, the arrow had small cuts in the shaft and something had been painted into them. She smelled it and the pungent odor further confirmed her suspicion; a poison.
Taking one of her infusions, she called for water and mixed both in a small cup. She slowly poured the infusion into the Elf’s mouth and he drank with great difficulty. She used more to clean the wound, a task made the easier as the pain draught had taken effect. But as she put the cloth down she was suddenly overcome by a sense of death ever nearer.
“No!” she hissed, seizing the Elf and holding him tightly to herself. Closing her eyes, she opened herself and her spirit to his.
“Stay” she said, although no words passed her lips. “Stay a while longer among us. Life still holds joy for you.”
She felt as if her own spirit had stepped into his body and strengthened it. As quickly as it came upon her, the feeling of death’s presence left. Opening her eyes she felt the Elf’s forehead and listened to his breathing. His breaths were shallow yet strong, and the wound appeared to be healing already.
“He is not entirely out of danger, he must be watched closely,” she told the others.
Haldir stepped forward and directed the group to build a litter for their comrade.
“He will be taken to Caras Galadhon and our healers. Thank you for your help,” he said, bowing slightly to her.
Leading her back to the talan, Haldir realized that Elrond’s assessment had been correct. Melyanna was a healer filled with much grace. The Elves had recognized the presence of poison on the arrow, but none of them could have reached out and touched the spirit of the dying quite like she had. Elrond had that gift and more. He had suggested Melyanna's ability approached his own. What other powers rested in her? If the Orcs were to capture her and corrupt her to Sauron’s purpose… Haldir could barely stomach the thought. And now he truly understood Galadriel’s words; She carries a darkness within her that must be dispelled before you bring her to our city. We are the cause and we must heal it lest it keep her forever in its grasp, to our sorrow. If she still harbored an unreasoning fear of her father’s people, despite all other outward signs, could she be turned against the Elder Race? And if she were corrupted, then what doom would follow?
Dawn was slowly breaking in the east and Haldir knew that the day ahead would be painful for them both.
Truth as Healer
“You may not leave the Lady’s realm,” he told her.
“Why?” she demanded. “Does the Lady intend for me to heal only Elves?”
Haldir offered no response so she continued on, “And what of my horse and myself? We are both filthy and I would put on cleaner clothes than these. Do you think I would present myself to the Lady in this state?”
He relented. “You may go as far as the Nimrodel and no further. A step on the far bank would be perilous. We will talk later,” he said as he turned and disappeared into the forest.
She fumed over the implied threat. “Wretched Elf!” she shouted after him, and heard muted laughter emanating from above. “Wretched ELVES!” she shouted at the treetops, and was showered with leaves and more laughter.
Looking across the horse’s back she could see wisps of smoke rising from a distant pyre of Orc bodies. The Elves had been thorough. It was hard to believe that the lovers of truth and beauty were skilled and deadly warriors. Melyanna lifted her face towards the sun, eyes closed, soaking in its warmth as the cool river swirled around her ankles. A bath and fresh clothing had improved her disposition. She considered Haldir and decided she liked him despite his airs, or was it because of his airs? He treated her well, although his last words carried a threatening tone. It was pure bluster, or so she hoped. Strangely, she realized she desired him and it had been so very long since desire had stirred within her.
Opening her eyes, she turned toward the horse and stroked his neck. “Tell me good Nightwing, am I an ungrateful guest?” she asked. He swished his tail after an errant fly, and remained silent. “Perhaps we should turn into Nazgûl and lead Haldir and his sentries on a merry chase.”
“Nazgûl would not survive,” came a retort and she spun around to find herself face to face with Haldir. The aura of imperious authority was a second skin to him.
“And this you learned from such chase in your past,” she said archly.
“No, but still, there may come a time,” and he took Nightwing by the bridle and led the horse out of the river, back into the forest.
“Wait,” she called after him as she gathered up boots and hose, along with the clothes she had rinsed in the river. “Wait! At least let me put on my boots.” Haldir paused at this last. When finally she stood he moved off swiftly, and she ran to keep up.
“Why do you hurry?” she asked as she drew even with his pace.
“Your continued presence at the river is an invitation the Orc do not need,” he said.
He led Melyanna and Nightwing back to the clearing of the previous night and tethered the horse once again to a sapling while she hung her still damp clothes on nearby branches. Turning, she saw Haldir regarding her with wide eyes, and then regain his composure.
The sunlight poking into the clearing had illuminated Melyanna’s hair, which was silver and white, from above and behind. The effect was a dazzling halo. For a moment it was as if an Elf Lord stood before Haldir, or was it the little girl he encountered long ago? What spirit inhabited this form? What had Landris wrought in his union with Dera? The moment passed as quickly as it came upon him.
“Haldir? What is it?” she asked.
“Nothing. Now, follow me,” he said and led the way by a different path down the small streamlet, which slowly built into a wide stream. They finally came upon a mallorn tree sitting beside the stream with an opening in its stem. It was large enough for a small child.
“We will talk here,” he said, laying aside his weapons and settling beside the mallorn. He gestured to his right and Melyanna sat against the opening in the tree’s stem.
“I would know why the Orc pursued you,” and he leaned back awaiting her response.
It took some time to explain. Radagast the Brown, journeying to the High Pass, had brought news of bloodshed in Gondor and the Riddermark. Orc were becoming a plague in some regions, and Mordor was creating much mischief. The Houses of Healing had need of her skills so she resolved to go, and traveled south with a small group of Woodmen and Rohirrim. The morning of the tenth day dawned with the Orc attack. She thought to lose the Orc in the foothills or plains, being on horse while they were on foot. The appearance of a second group nearby had been an unhappy surprise. Lothlórien held the only hope of refuge.
Haldir knew she was speaking the truth. The Orc bodies had yielded evidence of the attack that drove her into the Golden Wood. He was considering how he might yet learn what he most desired to know when she asked an unexpected question.
“Haldir, why am I kept prisoner?”
“You are no prisoner, “ he answered, for in truth he had not thought of her that way.
“A prison is a prison, whether its bars be iron or mallorn,” she said. “You have said I may not leave. Is this to be my prison?”
“No,” said Haldir, and that was all he would say. He turned the conversation to another direction.
“Not many among the race of Men are at home with the forest as you,” he said. “In that way you are much like us. And you have our gift of healing, more so than many Elves.”
“My father left me with many gifts, I suppose my love of the forest is yet another.”
Haldir looked thoughtfully at her before speaking. “Do you value your father’s gifts?”
“Oh yes” she said. “But I am half-Elven and so I have never found a place among men, or Elves” and there was hint of ruefulness in her voice.
“And if there was a place for you among Elves would you take it?” he asked.
His question surprised her, for she had never considered the possibility.
“I don’t know,” she answered.
“How did you come to learn the healing craft so well? Not many have your skill.”
“My father taught me until he died. Radagast guided me in herb lore. When I was fifteen he took me to Elrond of Rivendell. Elrond sent me out into the world five years after, saying there was no more he could teach me. He told me I would have to discern the path alone. What others did not teach me, I have taught myself.” She stopped and looked at Haldir with questioning eyes.
“Haldir, what is all this to you?”
“Your healing of our kin was wonderful to see,” he said with genuine feeling. “We thought him about to die, but you held him here. We did not think you capable of it for we knew your mother’s mind regarding our ways.”
“Ah yes, my mother. The bane of all Elves,” she laughed.
“This is no matter for humor,” he said sternly. “Your mother denied you the legacy of your father and wished to keep you from all Elven ways.”
Her face darkened. “You know nothing of that,” she said.
“Melyanna, do you remember the day your father died?”
“Yes,” and she looked away.
“Who came to your aid?” Haldir asked.
“No one,” came the quick reply. “Except Radagast.”
Haldir knew it to be untrue, and he saw in her face that she knew it too.
“What did your father tell you that day?”
Melyanna was becoming uncomfortable with Haldir’s questions. She looked down the stream and away from him.
“It is not your concern Haldir.”
“Then tell me why you ran away from us,” he said.
Her head snapped back. Us! Haldir! She began to rise, but Haldir was ready and his right hand closed tightly around her left wrist like a raptor’s claw. She settled back against the mallorn, but he did not release her.
“Tell me why you ran,” and his voice was low.
She couldn’t look at him and shrugged her shoulders. “I was a child Haldir. Who can know what moves a child?”
“You know what moved you,” he said. “Tell me.”
Her eyes began to fill and all she could do was rub the tears away with her free hand.
“Speak Healer. Do not hide the truth.”
Melyanna wept then, the sad memory returning through the haze of the past and the tears of the present.
She found a new flower and took it to her father, happy with her discovery. But he was distracted, and then suddenly grabbed her hand and ran with her toward a rocky outcrop while whipping off his cloak. He pushed her to the ground, covered her and ordered her to stay still. Then he turned towards some menace, which quickly became known: Orc! The clang of metal upon metal meshed with grunts, moans, painful cries, and heavy thuds. Silence suddenly fell. Peeping out from under the cloak, she saw her father lying on his side. He was bleeding from a great gash in his back. Forgetting all caution she threw the cloak aside and ran to him. His wound was deep and dangerous, but he looked up at her with a weak smile. Around him were the bodies of three dead Orc.
“Melyanna,” and it seemed he sighed her name. The rest was garbled; “Family…family” and he breathed his last.
Melyanna cried great tears, for her beloved father was gone and she was alone. Then, on the horizon, she saw people running in her direction. She looked closely. Elves! At first she wanted to call out to them. Then her mother’s words, harsh and accusatory, echoed in her mind. “Beware the Elves! They are jealous people. They will steal you and lock you away forever!” In that moment of confusion Melyanna was seized by unreasoning fear and fled.
Some time later, she didn’t know how long, Radagast found her and she told him all that happened. Sitting her before him on his horse they rode back and found two burning pyres. One was her father’s. Close by was a band of Elves.
“Wait here,” said Radagast, “I would speak with them.”
He had barely dismounted when two Elves raced up from behind his horse and sped past to their brethren ahead. Radagast carefully adjusted his cloak then loudly intoned, “If any Elf think to steal you from me, then they will find themselves turned into something quite unnatural!”
Striding off, he spoke with the Elves for what seemed like a very long time. Coming back he held a grey Elven cloak in his arms. He gave it to Melyanna. “It was your father’s and now it is yours,” he said gravely. With that, Radagast mounted his horse and returned Melyanna to her mother.
Yes, Haldir had been there, sent to safely escort father and daughter to Landris’ family. He sent two of the escort after Melyanna with orders to remain unseen and wait for exhaustion to overcome her. Landris was dead, but the daughter would still be welcome in Lothlórien. He then set about the sad task of burning Landris’ body and retrieving his belongings. Seeing Melyanna in the company of the Istari at first consoled him.
“You are far from home, Haldir of Lórien,” the wizard said. “Did you foresee Landris’ doom and come all this way to honor him in death?”
“Landris had need of us before the Orc fell upon him,” Haldir answered.
“Humor an old conjurer; tell me of this need,” said Radagast.
Haldir told Radagast of Landris’ plan, and his own. He was sure Melyanna’s flight had been spurred by Dera’s influence. “I would remove her to Lothlórien, in keeping with her father’s wishes,” he said. “She is meant to be a healer and her father wanted this for her.”
Radagast listened carefully, but he was unwilling to surrender Melyanna.
“I, too, believe she is meant to be a healer, but her father is dead and she needs her mother. If she is to be taught by Elves, then she will choose the Elves in her own time,” and the wizard’s tone was clear. He would brook no interference.
Unwilling to challenge Radagast, Haldir gave him Landris’ cloak. “It kept her from harm and she may have need of it again.”
Radagast must have felt Haldir’s disappointment. “You may yet be surprised Haldir. What now seems like a great loss may turn to a great success,” he said. Then he was gone.
“Your father wanted Elves to teach you the healing path, and he was bringing you to us for that purpose. We thought your gift lost,” Haldir said.
“Perhaps it was never meant for me to be raised in the company of Elves since I was meant to serve the race of Men,” she said, drying her face with the cloak. “Radagast may have foreseen it.”
“True enough. Yet no one, not even Radagast, can foresee all ends,” he said. “And what of this unpleasant dream that haunts you? Surely that is the work of your mother. She would set your heart against us and I would know if that is what the dream portends.”
“That is not true!” Melyanna shouted in frustration. “My mother loved my father. Would I have gone to Rivendell if my heart was set against the Elves?”
She was filled with confusion. Why speak now of the dream? It was too much to bear. She tried to break Haldir’s hold on her wrist and failed.
“Enough Haldir!” she cried out. “Enough of this!”
“No,” and his voice was cold. “What is the dream? From what dark origin does it spring?” and Haldir seized her other wrist. He was leaning forward, trapping her against the tree stem. “Your mother feared us. What darkness did she raise in you?”
“I don’t know,” she said and anger began to grow within her. “I cannot speak for the dead! For what purpose do you torment me?”
“Look around you,” Haldir said, his voice suddenly gentle as if to cool her swelling fury.
The sun had been dropping throughout their long conversation, and now it was becoming quite dark. The rustling branches still danced with their unseen partners and there was no sign of a moon.
“Tell me about this place Melyanna,” he said.
“I know nothing of it, I have never been here before.”
“Are you sure?” he asked. “Look again.”
Haldir watched her closely as she scanned the trees and the stream. There was no sign of recognition. She sat up straighter and for a moment a shadow seemed to pass before her eyes, then she shook her head.
“My father never brought me here,” she said firmly.
“But you were here all the same,” and he loosened his grip.
There was a snap of a twig and she looked around, suddenly startled. Haldir let go of her wrists and slowly sat back. He crossed his ankles and clasped his hands around his knees.
“On such a night you hid here. Why were you hiding?”
Why are you hiding? Why are you hiding? Why are you hiding?
She looked at him dumbly, and then the dark memory broke through.
Her father promised a visit with his family and the journey had been made. When they arrived at the river she had been excited at the prospect of exploring the forest and meeting other Elves. She ran off and had a great game, wrapping herself in her father’s cloak and then standing perfectly still against tree stems. It was some time before two of the Elves finally caught her. Her mother then became angry with the Elves, who in return were cross with her, and her father tried to calm both sides. There was an argument. Finally, the Elves produced a water skin and clearly expected her mother to drink from it. Her mother refused, crying loud and long while Melyanna watched in terrified silence. Overwhelmed by dread, she darted into the forest, searching for a safe place to hide. She had to get away from the Elves and their leader lest he visit some evil on her. Their leader…..
“Haldir,” she breathed and remembered the rest. As on that night, she could not see his face clearly in the moonless dark.
“That night was a great sorrow for me,” he said, and he told her what she did not know.
Dera panicked when she saw the guards with Melyanna, assuming the Elves intended to take her child. Haldir considered her an ignorant, foolish woman and this insult was confirmation. Her panic rose when told she would be blindfolded for part of the journey to Caras Galadhon. Landris tried to calm her, but she would not listen. The argument had been loud and long. She was certain the Elves had dark motives and she would not accept the law of Lothlórien. The visit ended before it began for Haldir decided that Dera must be made to forget what she had seen. There was more; she was banned from the Golden Wood forever. He could see it pained Landris, but that was the way it must be. Dera refused the draught and wailed as if dying. Then suddenly, Melyanna was gone.
Haldir saw her running through the forest and knew at once where her path must lead. Stripping off his weapons, he sent Rúmil to the river with the shrieking Dera, told Landris to wait in the clearing with Orophin, and then pursued the fleeing child. Without effort he arrived at the mallorn ahead of her. In the few moments they were alone he knew she was consumed by terror of the Elves, and that knowledge filled him with a great sorrow. The sleeping draught, and his words, would have destroyed such a dark memory, but for Dera. Haldir, for Landris’ sake, agreed to simply let her go. It had been a grievous error for the memory lived on in Melyanna’s dream, nourished by Dera’s fears.
“You should have lived as a child lives, unaware of such shadows,” he ended. “Were it not for my own pride, it might never obtained life,” as he recalled his anger at Dera’s onslaught of insults.
He looked down briefly then asked, “What recompense would you exact for my part?”
The sting of sorrow had returned to haunt him when Melyanna came to the Wood, and telling the tale further revived the pain. Dera’s love for one Elf had not overcome her distorted vision of the Elder race, which had been in full flower that long ago night. Yet he had to admit to his own part in letting her create such havoc.
Leaning forward, Haldir took both of Melyanna’s hands in his own. His voice was earnest. “I bear the fault for not seeing what was before me. Your mother bears the fault for keeping alive that, which should have died. The wound was never allowed to heal. I would heal it now if I had the means.”
Melyanna was exhausted. Learning the truth drained her, but the dark memory that haunted her was fully exposed and shriveled. It would die now and her mother’s unreasoning fears with it. Dera had been wrong. Melyanna long suspected this, but been afraid to confront the dream and the why of it. A misbegotten moment had been twisted into terrifying fantasy, and there was no knowing what it denied her all these years. Now the truth was forced into the open, and she could no longer ignore it.
“The wound would have healed long ago Haldir, had my mother permitted it. You could do no more,” she said.
Haldir was caught off guard when Melyanna reached forward and embraced him. Yet he smiled in understanding mixed with joy, as he wrapped his arms tightly around her and returned the embrace. She gave a deep sigh and he could feel her settling into sleep. Once again, he heard Galadriel’s words; She carries a darkness within her that must be dispelled before you bring her to our city. We are the cause and we must heal it lest it keep her forever in its grasp, to our sorrow. Long ago he helped birth a shadow, and this night it was banished. Of this he was certain. And he could finally banish his own burden of sorrow, which had been kin to that shadow.
There was a brief flash of silver as a lamp was uncovered. The sentinels drew near and Haldir raised one hand slightly, a silent signal to keep back. For now the Orc were nowhere near, so it was safe to remain a while in the mallorn stem. He looked at the sleeping Melyanna and gently stroked her hair, remembering the halo he had seen about her.
“Come the morning,” he whispered, “we go to Caras Galadhon.”
To Caras Galadhon
They arrived at Caras Galadhon via the usual route. The journey to Celebrant was marked by much discussion of Elf lore. Landris taught his daughter well in the brief time he had with her, and Elrond added to her knowledge. Melyanna seemed to know the way without Haldir’s guidance, but she followed his direction. Crossing Celebrant proved to be more intimidating than any band of Orc. She fixed her eyes on the far shore and stepped carefully on one rope while holding tightly to the other two. Below her the water rushed and eddied, while droplets splashed upward, reminders of the danger awaiting any misstep. Safe on the other side she sighed in relief.
“That was practice,” Haldir said. “The return is the test of your skill.” And he smiled in quiet amusement when she rolled her eyes.
“You are indeed a most wretched Elf,” she said in mock anger, and both laughed at the jest.
Now, standing on the east side of the river, he told her that she must wear a blindfold. “You are kin to us through your father but, unless the Lady says otherwise, you may not see the way to Caras Galadhon.”
This deeply disappointed Melyanna, for she was coming to a new understanding of the Golden Wood and its Elves. Rivendell was an Elf haven and contained much wisdom because of it. Lothlórien carried wisdom within itself, which she knew would live on, though diminished, after the Elves were gone. She wanted so much to see what the Naith looked like, and felt like with Elves in its midst. Still, she did not argue the point for she knew the laws of Lothlórien bound her so long as she tread its paths. A twinge of the old fear passed through her, though she managed not to flinch as Haldir bound her eyes with a cloth as soft as silk.
As he took her left hand to lead her on, he gently squeezed it and said, “The path before us is smooth and clear. There is nothing hurtful before you.”
It was as he said. The path unfolded without a bump or a place to stumble. Without vision, she listened more closely and sniffed the air more keenly. The birdsong was stronger, the smell of living plants more pungent and sweet. She noted the passage under trees by how warm or cool the air became. Haldir’s own presence, though hidden from view, revealed itself in the pressure of his hand upon hers, his footsteps so faint on the ground she could barely hear them, and his clear voice describing the landscape forbidden to her eyes. The hidden world was filled with life, and it enfolded her in a soft breeze. Suddenly, Haldir called out and she heard another voice speaking the Elven-tongue. If there was anything neglected in her study it was the Elven-tongue, which she understood very little of. The blindfold was whisked off.
“Rúmil returns with news that the Lady wishes you to be treated as the kinswoman you are,” said Haldir, and indeed there stood Rúmil with a company of armed Elves. They were on their way back to the northern border of Lothlórien.
The rest of that day she saw the Golden Wood as it was and reveled in its beauty. There was no end of trees, shrubs, flowering plants, and always the colors of silver tree stems and golden flowers that marked the mallorn. The blue sky was pocked with rainless clouds, as breezes came and went at will. They spent that night high on a talan. Melyanna dreamt of Lothlórien and its Elves, especially Haldir, and a world long past the knowing of Men. It had once lived, but now was only memory.
The next day they resumed the journey and the Golden Wood’s beauty continued to delight her. She regretted not coming sooner to her father’s home. If only Dera had understood the Elves true purpose; but those days were over and done. They could not be called back. Haldir had set right all that he could, and Melyanna had come to realize that the Elf’s commanding ways came not from the desires of power, but of deep care for those who lived within the Naith. His actions could keep them safe or lead to a dark ending.
Coming upon Cerin Amroth Haldir was about to speak, when Melyanna put one hand on his shoulder and raised the other, invoking silence. She took a few steps forward, eyes closed with both arms raised at the elbow. The breeze had died and with it the birdsong. A moment passed, then a great gust of wind swirled around them both, and a slight smile played on Melyanna’s face. Haldir could feel a presence unlike the Lady’s, and he looked at Melyanna with not a little awe for he could see that she fairly glowed. It was obvious she was in communion with whatever or whoever was making itself known. Finally she opened her eyes and turned to him.
“Oh happy Haldir. To live in such a place and know it while it still lives,” her voice barely a whisper, and there was light in her face he had not seen before. “To know it before it passes forever into memory, never to be understood by those who will come after. So long as Elves walk in Lórien it will live.”
She took a deep breath and looked about as if awakening from a dream.
“You felt it didn’t you?” she asked.
“Yes, but what it was I do not know,” he replied. “I have come here many times and never before been greeted in such a manner.”
“It was old and familiar to this place,” and she gestured toward the great hill. “And it was glad for my presence, as I was glad for it. May we pass a moment here? I should like to walk upon the grass and about the hill.”
“We may stay awhile if you like,” said Haldir, “Even better, I can take you to the talan on the top of the tree yonder. You can see all about Lothlórien from there.”
“Oh yes, I should like that very much!” she exclaimed.
Walking up the hill and past the circle of white bark trees, Haldir came to the great tree and led her up another Elven rope ladder to the talan. She saw the view in all four directions, but none moved her as did the south and the tree towers, which she knew to be Caras Galadhon, so well had her father taught her.
When they resumed their journey, Haldir asked her about Cerin Amroth. “Is this always the way of it, this greeting?”
“No,” she replied. “I have walked in many old places but am not always greeted that way.”
“Do you have the power of sight, to see what others cannot?” for now he was growing quite curious.
“At times, though I know not when, or what I will see,” she said.
“Does it ever frighten you? Surely you must have touched shadow at some time.”
“Frighten? Not yet, but I have felt grief. May we talk of other things? Yours is a beautiful world and I would not stain it with talk of anything dark,” and so the conversation resumed about Elf lore, Lothlórien’s beginnings, and about Celeborn and Galadriel.
It was evident to Melyanna that Haldir loved his home and the Lord and Lady who ruled there. She could see and hear it, for his eyes and voice were bright when the talk turned to the city and the couple who ruled this haven. To know such happiness was more than she could imagine, for she had never felt it herself. Her father had given up the Golden Wood to take on the mortal life and bind himself to Dera, and Melyanna wondered at the power of a love that moved him to such a sacrifice. She had never found one place that drew her in such a way, let alone one person that she would bind herself to. Listening to Haldir, she longed to feel what he felt, and wondered if there was any way he might share that with her. Yet for all the beauty around her, Melyanna knew the path of her life would lead away from Lothlórien. She was meant to serve the race of Men by sharing her healing gift, and go to whatever ending that might bring.
As evening fell they came upon the city in the trees and walked towards the southern gate. Melyanna watched the number of silver and gold lights emanating from the trees increase as the sun dipped out of sight. At last, the entire forest that made up the city was bathed in a glow that echoed a far older light and once again she felt the stirring of a “Welcome” but this one she knew came from the Lady. Entering the gates, they walked many paths until they passed the fountain on the lawn, and came to the base of the mallorn that was home to the Lord and Lady of the Galadhrim. Above them, Melyanna could hear music and song, and even echoes of an ancient Music that was surely played at the beginning of time. When three horn notes sounded from far above, Haldir turned to her and said, “Come, the Lady is waiting for you.”
Before Galadriel
The climb to the great residence at the top of the tree was long and Melyanna had not expected to go so high. She was tired and breathless when they finally reached the top, and then completely forgot all that went before. The view of the city from the ground paled in her memory as she saw the wondrous vision from the very treetops, with the glow of uncounted silver and gold lamps all about. Could the ancient light at the beginning of time be as beautiful?
They waited a moment, and then Galadriel stepped out to the talan and greeted them. “I have long wondered if all that Landris hoped for would come to pass. It pleases me to know it has,” and she smiled at Melyanna, all the while looking intently at her.
Melyanna felt again the connection to something beyond herself. It happened many times elsewhere, as at Cerin Amroth. Now she felt the Lady in her mind, and knew that Galadriel was most interested in the darkness, now banished. There was nothing else in its place, and the Lady seemed sad with that knowledge, while offering a hope; Do not refuse a gift freely offered, for it may lead to much joy.
Galadriel directed her to a chair and they sat and talked of many things. The Lady knew much of Melyanna’s life and told her about her father. “He saw that the time of the Elves would end, and he would give Men as much healing knowledge as he could. You were his greatest joy, for he knew you would carry the gift on.” She looked at Melyanna with great compassion, “But he did not know how difficult your path would be. His death was a great sorrow to all of us. The cloak protected you when you most needed it that day, and it has served you well all these years. May I see it?” she asked.
Melyanna handed the cloak to the Lady who examined it with great care. “It is much worn from the time it has spent in service. It needs attention,” and she summoned an elf maiden who took it away. Melyanna did not want to part with this one remnant of her father. “Fear not,” said Galadriel. “When next you see it, it will not seem so worn or tired.”
It was hard to know how much time had passed, even as Melyanna could feel a weariness creeping into her. Galadriel seemed to know this. “There is yet one more thing I would talk of with you. Your father looked into the Mirror and saw you, and this made the parting easier for him to bear. Do you wish to look into the Mirror?”
“I know nothing of any Mirror my Lady,” said Melyanna. “What does it do?”
“It may show what was, what is, or what may be,” Galadriel answered. “There is no knowing what you may see. I can command it, or it can be allowed to work freely, and then it may show what you most need to know.”
“I would see this Mirror,” and though Melyanna was curious, she was also a little afraid.
The Mirror
Galadriel led Melyanna down the stairs to the garden where the Mirror sat, leaving Haldir at the talan. She poured water from the silver ewer into the basin. “Would you look?” Galadriel asked.
“Yes,” said Melyanna, for curiosity had overcome any fear.
She looked into the basin and waited. At first reflecting the stars, it went quickly dark and then scene after scene played before her. Fires burned in many regions. Death and destruction seemed to rain down on the race of Men, and darkness was heavy in the land. The Healing Houses were filled with the sick and wounded, and she saw herself tending to them. Finally, she saw a great battlement with high, thick walls. Night had fallen and with it, a heavy rain. Uruk-hai were everywhere. There were also armed Elves, fighting beside Men in the desperate battle. Then she saw Haldir, resplendent in a crimson cloak over golden armor. He was leading the Elves and slew many Orc. But his valor did not save him from an Orc axe that cut him down. Melyanna watched helplessly as the light of life went out of his eyes. She stepped back, fighting the tears that welled up in her.
“I know what you saw,” said Galadriel and her voice was grave.
“This is Haldir’s doom,” said Melyanna, filled with grief that his life would end so violently. Until that moment, she had not known the strength of her feelings towards him.
“It may not be a certainty,” responded Galadriel, but Melyanna felt the knowing that would come upon her at times. Haldir would never go west to the sea and take ship for Valinor.
“Why?” Melyanna cried out. “Why must this even be possible?”
“Because the time may come when Elves and Men must join together to defeat a great evil. If that moment comes, and one or the other fails, the evil may go unchallenged. The doom facing us would then be more terrible than any imagined. Would you deny the world his courage if it is needed?”
“No, I would not,” and Melyanna knew it to be true, even as the thought filled her with sorrow. Haldir was an Elf and guardian of the Golden Wood. He must walk that path no matter what ending awaited him.
Galadriel stepped before her. “Do not dwell on what may be. The Mirror shows us many possibilities, but not all. You will leave us in the morning. What gift may we send with you? What would you ask of us?” she asked.
Melyanna shook her head. “There is nothing Lady, that I want. By some power unknown, my path led to Caras Galadhon and I am reconciled to my father’s people. It is more than I believed possible, and it is gift enough.”
Galadriel smiled in a way that suggested she knew better. “When first you entered our wood you carried a remnant of the past, which is now gone. What lives in its place besides emptiness?”
“You have said it Lady, yet I would ask nothing of you.”
“Nothing? Not even from the one who banished the darkness?” and the small smile remained alive on Galadriel’s face.
“A gift is only a gift when it is freely given,” said Melyanna.
“And if it were offered, would you refuse it?” asked Galadriel.
“No Lady.”
“Yet a gift cannot be offered if a desire is unknown, for then the gift has no meaning,” said Galadriel. Then she directed Melyanna back up the stair, where an elf maiden was waiting. “She will guide you. Tonight you may sleep in peace. I shall say farewell in the morning.”
Returning to the talan, Galadriel spoke with Haldir. “When Melyanna entered our wood I saw something in her that I had not seen before,” she said. “It was old and I would have known it once long ago. It was hidden from me, yet surely it kept darkness from overcoming her.”
“Is this some grace from our distant past?” Haldir wondered aloud. “Her encounter at Cerin Amroth was beyond my knowing, though I would have shared it with her if permitted.”
“I am pleased that she possesses gifts we had not foreseen,” Galadriel said. “You did well to banish the dark memory, for she will truly keep the knowledge of us alive when our footsteps are gone from the paths of Lórien. And I would send her forth with a new and better memory than the one that traveled so long with her,” She looked long and hard at Haldir.
“What of you Haldir? Your own sorrow is banished yet nothing has taken its place.”
Haldir knew that the Lady could plumb the minds of Elves and Men, but he had not expected this from her. She spoke again before he could respond.
“If there come a time when you may invite joy in, embrace it, lest sorrow return.” She looked at Haldir as if to discern whether he understood her words. “Melyanna must resume her journey south for her place is among the race of Men. See to it that she returns safely to the Nimrodel.”
And After
At dawn Haldir and Melyanna stood before Galadriel on the talan. The air was cool and the sun had barely risen above the horizon.
“That which protected you so long is ready to resume its task,” and Galadriel returned Landris’ cloak to Melyanna. It had been cleaned and rewoven, and it had a new clasp. The clasp was formed as a green mallorn leaf, edged in silver.
“A leaf of Lórien that will not perish, so your memory of us will not perish, long after we are gone,” said Galadriel, and she sent them on their way.
As they came again upon Cerin Amroth, Melyanna paused and looked at the massive hill. “I do not know which is the greater Haldir. My joy at seeing Caras Galadhon, or my sorrow at leaving it.” She remained silent for much of the journey that day, and Haldir did not disturb her thoughts.
Yet all the Lady had said the night before had taken hold of Haldir and he pondered on her words. The next morning he thought to engage Melyanna in conversation and as he led her down the path toward the Celebrant he spoke.
“You are a Healer and I would ask you how joy finds its way into the emptiness where sorrow once dwelled.” he said.
“That depends on the one bearing the emptiness,” she replied, wondering if Galadriel had told him of the conversation by the Mirror. “Why do you ask this of me?”
“A sickness of the spirit is as hurtful as a sickness of the body. I thought you might have encountered this before. Our kinsman was wounded by a poison arrow and had a sickness of the body, yet you were able to touch his spirit and speed his healing. Perhaps you have done so for one whose spirit was wounded,” he said.
“No, I have not.” Her pace slowed and she finally halted, wanting to both speak and remain silent.
Haldir, sensing that she was no longer following, turned towards her. “Melyanna, what is it?”
“I…I am not certain Haldir.”
“Has some spirit from this place tried to speak with you?” he asked, recalling Cerin Amroth.
“No,” she answered, and started to walk again.
He walked beside her. “What is it then?”
Melyanna felt a rising tide of desire mixed with confusion, and tried to walk faster. “There is nothing you can do.”
“Truly something is amiss,” he insisted and taking her arm he stopped her.
She looked at him, her feelings churning and unsure what to say. What she most wanted, she did not believe possible, and so would not ask for. Theirs were separate paths, and an illusion was no way to satisfy her desire. Worse still, she knew his doom and could not tell him. It was the concern in his voice that cut through Melyanna's confusion. It was plain the truth was needed now and so she spoke, even as each word burned in the utterance.
“Galadriel asked me what gift I wanted, and I told her there was nothing. But what I wanted she could not give me,” said Melyanna. She took a deep breath. “I wanted you Haldir. I wanted a day and a night alone with you, free from danger and sentinels. The end of the dark memory was not the beginning of joy, and I wished to know joy. I saw it in you on our walk to Caras Galadhon, and I thought you might share it with me. It was a foolish notion and I will speak no more of it,” and she walked quickly past him.
He stood silently. Yes, he felt joy in his life at Lothlórien, but the banishing of sorrow had left an emptiness that could not be filled by the Golden Wood alone. The Lady had seen it and her words echoed in his mind; If there come a time when you may invite joy in, embrace it, lest sorrow return. He could not let the moment go unnoted and ran in front of her, blocking her way. Looking at her troubled face, he hoped he had fathomed Galadriel’s meaning.
“Melyanna I am an Elf, not a mortal man. If I said I needed a night and a day, and yet another night, would you grant it to me?”
She was undone by his words. What she most wanted was now a freely offered gift. There could only be one answer, “Yes Haldir, I would grant it to you.”
A New Memory
It was late in the afternoon of their return from Caras Galadhon. Haldir led Melyanna along the stream, well past the tree that had seen the birth and banishment of darkness and sorrow, coming at last to a small waterfall that emptied into a deep pool. The trees had opened their ranks, and far more of the sun’s light entered into the forest. Here, the stream bank was covered with mossy rocks, long water grasses and flowers. The birds were numerous, trilling their songs in the branches and flitting about in mad dances over the water. Coming to an opening along the bank, Haldir moved up the opposite side of the path to a small tree. Laying aside his weapons, he sat down against it, and motioned for her to come sit with him. Melyanna found herself seated between his legs; her back against his chest and his hands on her shoulders. It had been an easy walk, but her heart was pounding and she was not sure if it was desire or doubt that moved it so quickly. They sat in silence, and her heart’s pace was unable to slow.
If Haldir knew what was in her mind, he did not say so. After a time he put his right arm around her and laced his fingers into hers. With his left he stroked her hair and the side of her face. The effect on Melyanna was as a spell. Gently, her head fell back against Haldir’s shoulder, while her eyes closed, and her fingers tightened around his. She was infused with light and pleasure. At last he wrapped his left arm around her and embraced her. For a moment it seemed her spirit and his just might touch.
“You speak very little Melyanna,” Haldir said as he relaxed his embrace.
“I do not have the words.”
“Words are not always needed, though your silence seems to be more than that,” and she could feel his eyes on her.
“You said very little and I did not question it,” she countered.
“I was thinking of a haven for us, and remembered this place,” he replied. “What do you think of my choice?”
“It is so beautiful, and I can think of no other that would do, unless it be Caras Galadhon itself,” and she recalled the city in the trees. Was it only a few days ago that she had seen it? Or was it a lifetime?
“Ah, but then we would not be alone,” he said. “Still, I feel something stands between us.”
She lowered her head a moment, and then slowly spoke, “Haldir, it has been a long time since anyone moved me to speak as I did, and I doubt my own wisdom in coming here.” Could it be that doubt had triumphed over all? “This is unlike anything I have done.”
He was truly surprised. “This feels strange to you then?” he asked.
“Yes.”
He took her chin in his hand and turned her face toward his. “Am I strange to you?”
“No.”
“Why?” he asked.
“I have come to know you,” she answered.
“And who am I?”
“Haldir of Lórien, the Elf who guards the northern borders of the Golden Wood, and leads errant travelers to its Lady,” and she managed a small smile.
“Hmmm,” and he was lost a moment in thought. “Yes, I am the wretched Elf who terrifies small children,” he said quietly. When she tried to protest he covered her lips with a finger. “It would be true. For that is the memory you carried away so long ago. And there is nothing in its place.”
He looked intently at her; “Galadriel told me that she would leave you with a
better memory than what you brought with you. As would I,” As he spoke he
wondered if his words would be enough to shatter the doubt still in her. “There
is more to me, which I would share with you. A night, a day and another night
will hardly do it justice, yet it will have to suffice. And I would know more
about the little girl I carried back to her father.”
“She has become the healer she was meant to be. And there is more I would share with you Haldir. The time we have will have to do,” Melyanna said. Doubt finally vanished, never again to be seen while he was present.
“I have seen that Healer touch the spirit of the dying, and be touched by the spirit of an ancient place. I would know if she can touch my spirit and leave me the better for it,” and his eyes never left hers.
“Together we shall see if she can,” she said.
Haldir’s fingers traced the outline of her lips and the side of her face. Once again she felt the caress of pleasure throughout her body. “Is this some elvish enchantment?” she whispered.
His forehead touched hers and she could feel his gaze increase in intensity. “Only if you wish it to be,” he whispered back and both smiled.
Thus it began. What happened that night and day, and the following night, not even the birds will say. Not even to Radagast, who they love best for he can speak their language. And it ended as it did long ago, with Haldir holding Melyanna in his arms.
In the pre-dawn darkness Haldir and Melyanna sat in the mallorn stem where it had all begun. Melyanna leaned against Haldir’s shoulder, and he held her close as the purples of the darkened forest lightened to grey. Soon, the first birdsong would herald the rising sun.
“Will you come back to Lothlórien?” Haldir asked, though he knew the answer.
“Perhaps,” she replied. “Provided the one Elf that can properly attend to errant travelers be the one to greet me.”
Haldir laughed, well knowing her meaning. “Then I will be the one to greet you, lest you be disappointed.”
There came a sudden burst of sound in the air, as every bird in the forest personally greeted the daystar. For the final time Haldir took her hand, and they walked to the Nimrodel.
Endings
The Houses of Healing were filled by the wounded and ill, for open war had come to Gondor. Melyanna had been there for many months and had given of her healing gift to all she encountered. Even so, not all who entered could hold onto life. Whenever it seemed darkest, she remembered the time by the forest pool and the joy it had brought to her. In such moments the memory sustained her, and she could continue her work.
On this day, yet another group of men came to the Houses, their faces and bodies weathered and beaten. Despite their cares, they were full of talk of a great battle in Rohan. Helm’s Deep was its name and a great wonder occurred there. Melyanna moved quickly about them, cleaning wounds and changing wrappings.
“Aye,” said one, “the White Rider and Éomer came on the sun’s rays and the Uruk-hai knew they were finished!” The rest nodded, and grunted assents could be heard all around.
“And the Elves,” said another. “The Deep would not have held without ‘em.” More nods and grunts followed.
Melyanna listened closely. “Elves came to the aid of Men?” she asked.
“Aye lady, a small army. We would have been much the poorer without them,” came the answer.
“And from where did these Elves hail?”
The men looked at each other in puzzlement, shoulders shrugging. Then one spoke up. “I don’t rightly know, but I remember their leader. Fair to look upon, but all Elves are you know. Clad in golden armor and a crimson cape he was. He could fire a bow and swing a sword better than most. Many’s the Uruk-hai that felt the sting of his blows from one or the other. But, sad to say, an Orc’s axe cut him down. No doubt his people will mourn him, if any be left.” And the conversation turned to more talk of the battle just ended, and others to come.
Melyanna closed her eyes momentarily, recalling the image in the Mirror. Finishing her work, she moved on to the next group of wounded. Their numbers were increasing every day.
As darkness fell Melyanna found her way to the highest parapet in the city, and convinced the sentry to let her stay a while, alone. He agreed, as his wife was with child and a midwife would soon be needed. She sat back on the cold stone and searched the western horizon for Eärendil, the star most beloved by Lórien’s Elves. It was rising, the bright beacon of hope in times of great evil. Now it seemed that hope was well and truly needed. For a time she sat wrapped in her father’s cloak grieving for what was now only a memory. At last she wiped the tears from her eyes and looked again for Eärendil and found it, its light steady and true.
“Oh Haldir,” she whispered. “Happy were you in Lórien, but your doom led you away. A great evil stands before us, and if it has been weakened or destroyed, then your death had purpose. Yet your courage denied you the ship to Valinor. Instead, the halls of Mandos shall be your home. Will you be there to greet me the day I come to their gates?” Once again, her eyes were clouded by grief.
Still sitting against the stone, Melyanna closed her eyes and fingered the cloak’s clasp. The leaf of Lórien that would never perish. With a slow, deep breath she opened herself to whatever grace might enter. Slowly, the stone gave way to tree bark and stream bank. The sounds of the city below droned into the rush of water falling into a pool. The Elven cloak grew tighter as unseen arms wrapped around her, and the breath of the one who had gone ahead ruffled her hair. The words were as clear as on the day they were first spoken, “I will be the one to greet you, lest you be disappointed.” Melyanna leaned against Haldir’s shoulder.