Of Matters of Healing
A Haldir Story
She ran through the darkened woods, tightly gripping her father’s cloak around her. Her breath came hard as she stumbled and fell over roots grabbing 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. Her mother’s cries were 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 there; not back to where Elves waited with bows and arrows and long knives. They chased her when she went exploring in the forest and then argued with her parents. Melyanna could fairly feel the anger. Certain of danger, she 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 and it was very hard to breathe. A dull roar surrounded her, fueled by her thudding heart. Barely able to move, 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. 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; his own voice 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 did the Elves 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 her 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, the roaring had stopped, and her heart did not beat so hard. This Elf must be different. 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, still obscured in the shadows.
“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.
Melyanna bolted up in the bed, heart pounding and face wet with tears. Seeing the Elf in front of her, she struggled to back away and found her escape blocked by a wall. The Elf leaned over and took both of her arms, gently pulling her towards him. She could feel the fear entombing her limbs once again.
“Melyanna? Are you awake? Do you know where you are?” he asked.
The familiar voice broke through the fog of sleep. “Father!” she cried. She flung herself at him, and was again safe in his arms.
Melyanna’s father held her tightly for a moment, and then pushed her slightly back, a concerned look on his face.
“Was it the dream again?”
She nodded.
“Do you remember any of it?”
Melyanna could not tell him what she saw. How could she explain that an Elf ruled her nightmare? So she shook her head without looking at him.
“Are you sure you don’t remember?” and he looked at her very intently.
“No Father, I don’t,” she replied, still unable to look at him.
“Well then, I suppose the mystery remains,” her father said. He hugged her again then asked, “Feel better?”
Melyanna nodded. Her father could make anyone feel better no matter the problem. He pulled back the coverlet and waited for Melyanna to arrange herself back under it, before draping it carefully over her. Then he leaned forward with small smile on his face.
“Do you know what I think?” he asked. “I think we may meet Elves on this trip.”
Melyanna’s mouth dropped open in surprise. She could barely speak at the thought. Elves!
“When?” she blurted out.
“That, I don’t know. Yet every time you have the dream we meet Elves very soon after. Have you never noticed that?”
Melyanna had not noticed. The dream was so terrible; all she wanted was to forget it.
“If you think about it, you will see,” her father told her. “Now, you must sleep. Tomorrow we begin our search for new herbs and flowers, and you must be ready.”
He kissed her forehead and Melyanna closed her eyes and let out a deep sigh of pleasure. The dawn would bring new adventures with her father and she could hardly wait. She turned over, squeezing her eyes shut and willing sleep to come. Outside the entry to her room she could hear her parents talking in low tones.
“Landris, you must be mad to fill her head with notions of meeting Elves,” her mother said sharply. “You know how she fears them.”
“Dera, it is your own fear that lives in her,” and her father sounded tired and sad.
“You know very well what happened in the wood,” Dera began, but Landris cut her off.
“I am going to rest, for the morning will be here soon enough,” and the conversation ended.
Melyanna lay in the silence that followed, trying not to cry. She loved her parents and it was painful to hear them argue, even quietly. There had been another argument once, a long time ago in a forest. She was sure of it, but quickly put the thought out of her mind. It might bring the dream back. Pulling the coverlet tighter, Melyanna hoped the morning would be a more pleasant time.
Five days later and they were far from home, searching for herbs and flowers. The sun was drifting down to the western horizon as Melyanna darted across the landscape. A flash of yellow in an outcrop of rocks and boulders caught her eyes and she quickly went to investigate. It was a flower she had never seen, a round, yellow orb with soft petals and a delicate scent. The leaves had a ragged look. She pulled it free of its rocky bed and carried it off to her father, happy with her discovery. But he was distracted, and then suddenly grabbed her hand and ran with her back to the 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 southern horizon, she saw people running in her direction. She looked closely. Elves! Her father had said they would meet 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 Melyanna was seized by unreasoning fear and fled.
Some time later, she didn’t know how long or where, the wizard 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. Close by one was a band of Elves. Melyanna held tightly to the wizard’s hands, certain the Elves were waiting for her. Certain her mother’s warnings were about to come true.
Radagast gently pried her hands loose then dismounted. He touched her on the arm and was about to speak when two Elves raced up from behind his horse and sped past to their brethren ahead. Radagast stood straight and dignified, carefully adjusting his cloak. Then he loudly intoned, “If any Elf think to steal you from me, they will find themselves turned into something quite unnatural!”
Then he reached up and patted her hands. “They will do nothing,” he said. “Wait here, I would speak with them.”
Striding off, he spoke with the Elves for what seemed a very long time. The sun was falling behind the Misty Mountains and the stars were coming alive. Melyanna fidgeted, wishing the wizard would return. He was surrounded by the Elves and she tried to contain her worry. Finally he came back, holding 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.
It was late afternoon and Melyanna had ridden far in the summer sun. 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 that flew back towards her with every stride. His breathing was labored and she knew he needed rest, 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. She thought to outrun the Orc, being on horse while they were on foot. The encounter with the second band had been an unhappy surprise. Now, the forest of Lothlórien offered the only refuge, but would the Elves protect her or drive her out?
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 go. 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, but she quickly found her voice. “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 trail behind you?” he asked.
Her jaw tightened. She was too tired to be diplomatic.
“If I served Sauron you would fire 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. 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 soon appear. But Galadriel had not described the particulars saying only; She carries a darkness within her that must be dispelled. 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.
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 faint path and she followed, horse in tow. Melyanna was certain 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, hoping he would agree.
Haldir was surprised.
“You beg our protection yet are anxious to take your leave of us. This 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.
“You are not entirely a stranger. Your father was kin to us, so are you,” he said. “We would not turn you away.”
Melyanna did not know what to say to this. Her life had been marked by her mother’s warnings that the Elves were not to be trusted. All her love for Landris, himself an Elf, had not overcome her mother’s certainty that the Elves would subject her daughter to some dark and fearsome doom. Melyanna had come to ignore her mother’s remonstrations, while keeping her distance from the Elf havens, except for Rivendell. Now this Elf was telling her that she was welcome in a place she had long avoided. 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 its opening. 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 water skin and a bag filled with food. She ate a little as she leaned against the tree stem, steadying 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, Melyanna 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 an Elf.
“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. The realization that Haldir was next to her was enough to keep her heart pounding at a feverish pace.
“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 and killed him over 30 years ago. Haldir had been saddened when the daughter of Landris ran away as the Elves came to her aid. No doubt her mother’s fears spurred that retreat for she was only ten at the time. Yet she had gone to Rivendell to study the healing craft with 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.
Haldir remembered the first time he saw her. 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 kept the dark memory alive and it was living in Melyanna’s dreams. He recalled Galadriel’s words, for the truth will reveal itself and you will know what to do. Haldir was sure he knew where the truth would lie, 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.
…………
“You may not leave the Lady’s realm,” he told her.
“Why?” she demanded.
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.”
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 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 river swirled around her ankles. A bath and fresher clothing had improved her disposition. 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 a 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. When she finished he motioned down the streamlet’s course.
“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. 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. Yet there was more he needed to know.
“You have been raised as a mortal, yet 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.”
“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 being half-Elven, 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.
“And if your mother forbade it?”
“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.
“Tell me why you ran away from us,” he said.
Her head snapped back. 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! Do not hide the truth.”
Melyanna wept then, the sad memory returning through the haze of the past and the tears of the present.
“I saw the Elves coming and believed they were coming for me, that my mother was right,” and her voice caught on the words. “How did you know? Were you there?”
“Yes,” Haldir replied. “I was sent to escort you and your father to Lothlórien. Your father wanted Elves to teach you the healing path, and his journey was for that purpose.”
“Perhaps it was never meant for me to be raised in the company of Elves since I was to serve the race of Men,” she said, drying her face with the cloak.
“Perhaps,” he said. “Still, your mother would set your heart against us, and strove to do so.”
“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?”
“Would you have gone if your mother had been alive?” and Haldir’s voice was cold now.
Melyanna knew the answer, even as she recalled Radagast’s persistence and her uncertainty, which journeyed with her to Rivendell. After her first meeting with Lord Elrond she begged Radagast to take her home. Eventually she came to appreciate the stern visaged Elf who had proven to be a caring and canny teacher. Melyanna left Rivendell with a deep respect for Elrond and her heritage. Yet she still avoided all other Elf havens, for she carried a hidden nugget of fear within. No, she would not have gone if her mother had been alive, and the realization shamed her.
“And what of this unpleasant dream that haunts you? Surely that is the work of your mother. I would know what the dream portends.”
“Enough Haldir!” she cried out. “Enough of this!”
“No. 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 was swept into a torrent of memory.
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 became angry with the Elves, who in return were cross with her, and her father tried to calm both sides. There was an argument. Her mother cried loud and long while Melyanna watched in terrified silence. Overwhelmed by dread, she ran 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. “I saw you running through the forest and knew where your path would lead,” Haldir told her. “In the time we were together I knew what terror had been born in you, and that it was of my doing.”
Haldir paused. 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. The sleeping draught and his words would have destroyed such a dark memory. Instead it lived in Melyanna’s dream, nourished by Dera’s fear.
“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?”
Melyanna sat in silence. Her chest was tight, her heart beating wildly against its prison. She wanted to run away, once more the terrified child. But where would she go? Who could she go to? Melyanna looked at Haldir, who remained silent and still, waiting for her to act. No, she dare not run away or she would never stop running, and the dream would never end. If she could not run she must do something else.
She reached slowly towards Haldir, who mirrored what she did, carefully taking both of her hands in his own. A shudder ran through her. Haldir’s hands were gentle, his thumbs slowly tracing lines across her fingers. 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.”
“The wound would have healed long ago Haldir, had my mother permitted it,” she said. “My mother….,” and her voice trailed off. Then words she had never thought to say sprang from her lips. “The fear was born with me. She didn’t know why and it overcame her. It would have overcome me, but for my father, and Elrond, and now you.” Her voice choked and halted as she swallowed back the tears, even as a heavy weight lifted from her. The dark memory that haunted her was fully exposed and shriveled. It would die now and her mother’s unreasoning fear with it.
Haldir was caught off guard when Melyanna moved 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 an exhaustion-induced sleep. Once again, he heard Galadriel’s words; She carries a darkness within her that must be dispelled. 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.
“Come the morning,” he whispered, “we go to Caras Galadhon.”