"Haldir, you can't do this! You cannot just walk away. He needs you now -- can you not see that?"

Haldir crossed the floor again, hastily shoved another tunic into his satchel.

"Leave it, Rumil. He doesn't need me. He doesn't even know I'm here. It's just as well I go now, do less damage in the long run."

"Haldir, I respect you. You know that. But you're making a huge mistake. You're being truly stupid right now. And selfish."

The powerful Marchwarden spun to face his younger brother, grabbing a fistful of tunic to pull them chest to chest, his voice low with reined threat.

"Brother mine, I would not strike you but I am sorely tempted. Do not tell me what is wrong and what is right. I do only what I must." He shoved his shocked brother away from him and continued his packing.

The younger archer watched silently for several long moments, then turned and left the talan.

---

His thin hand groped at the sheets, reaching. The elf at his bedside woke and quickly took it up, to stroke the back with his fingertips, soothing.

His head began to thrash, turning form side to side, as if struggling, searching, though his bruised eyelids remained closed. "Haldir --"

"Shhh. It's okay."

"Haldir!"

"I'm not Haldir. My name is Rumil. I'm here. I'll watch over you. You can rest now."

---

He dozed on a bench in the sun-kissed garden, wrapped in a blanket against the chill of mid-spring. Waking, he cried out. Haldir was with him in an instant, wiping garden soil from his hands, golden hair glowing in the sun. How he loved that hair.

"Haldir!"

Haldir's lips brushed against his temple and he closed his eyes for a moment. He opened them to search the concerned face before him.

"Your eyes -- they're different. Not so blue anymore..."

Haldir smiled sadly and spoke.

"I'm not Haldir. My name is Rumil. Haldir left you years ago, pen-vuil. But I will watch over you. You can rest. Feel the sun."

He studied the elf before him for a long moment before letting himself drift off again. He was safe; Haldir was here.