Title: Surprised by the Morning
Author: Mcguffan
anne_robbins@yahoo.com
Rating: NC 17
Pairing: Aragorn/Haldir
Summary: Haldir has lived for centuries and much of the thrill is gone.
Notes: Please review, I really want to know what people think
Archive: Please ask before archiving this.

“The ring of power approaches ever nearer.  It will arrive soon.”  My lady intoned 
melodiously as she adjusted a crown of flowers upon her golden head..

“We watch for it constantly.”  I murmured waiting for Galadriel to get to the 
point.  I had been on the lookout for any sign of hobbits carrying doomsday 
jewelry for weeks now.

“The man my Arwen speaks of marrying accompanies the ring.”  Ah, so that was 
what all this was about.  I should have guessed.

“I want you to befriend this mortal, Haldir.  Gain his trust.  Find out what manner 
of man he is.  Note his character and be vigilant for anything that might reveal 
him to my granddaughter in a more. . . balanced light.”  My lady commanded.

“Really madam, this man has been safeguarding the ringbearer since before he 
left rivendell.  I am hardly likely to catch him filching the silver his first night in 
Lothlorien.”  I commented, a bit disappointed in my lady.  There was a time, 
perhaps only a few centuries back, when Galadriel would have ordered me to put 
an arrow in the back of any mortal Arwen so much as looked twice at.  My lady, 
however, had grown conservative and risk averse in her quiet rule.  Now it was 
too late to harm the man without danger of harming Arwen.

“Do not presume to guess my motives or my intentions, Haldir.  It should be 
enough for you to carry out my orders.”  Galadriel rejoined, faintly irritated that I 
had read her so well.  But, of course what had she expected after so long together?

“I live to serve you, my kind mistress, my beautiful lady, my gracious queen, my 
most powerful goddess.”  I answered bowing from the waist.

“Don’t blaspheme.”  My lady admonished, though without heat.  Use and 
repetition had drained all the emotion from this bit of conversation long ago.
*
We had been following the motley assembly of elf, dwarf, men and hobbits for 
several minutes.  I was pleased that even the Mirkwood prince remained ignorant 
of our arrival.  I would have to remember to praise my elves later.  Still I would 
have to challenge them soon.  It would not do at all for them to become aware of 
us before we chose to present ourselves.  I would wait just a bit more.  The dwarf 
was speaking of my lady and I thought it would be rude to interrupt him.

“The dwarf breathes so loudly we could have shot him in the dark.”  I informed 
my elves, the ring company and the forest generally.  The dwarf in question 
nearly swallowed his tongue.  I wanted to grin but conscious of my position I 
contented myself with an expression of nearly imperial condescension.

Legolas, son of Thranduil, answered quickly with bow drawn.  No doubt the 
princeling was embarrassed not to have heard or seen us.  Some of my elves, 
already unnerved by the presence of a dwarf seemed ready to fight.  I sighed at 
the prospect of having to calm everyone down but before I was able to say 
anything the lanky ranger, Isildur’s heir and Arwen’s betrothed intervened taking 
the dwarf by the shoulder and giving Legolas a hard look.  That the tall dark-
haired man was the prophesied renewer I had no doubt.  I had met some of 
Isildur’s line and the family resemblance was strong but I would have known him 
whatever his looks the moment he turned to me and asked for aid addressing me 
by name and in my own language.

Gesturing for my elves to stand easy I ran my gaze over those chosen to preserve 
middle-earth into a new age.  At first glance, I wasn’t particularly impressed.  
They all had the look of people on the edge.  I could not imagine that any of them 
had much reserve left.  I took my time, scrutinizing each creature in turn and then 
began again at the beginning.  At last, Aragorn repeated his request.  I looked at 
him as though noticing him for the first time.

“If you will wait here I suppose I could have some food brought to you.”  I said as 
though I was granting a large favor.

“I am afraid our need is greater than that.  My name is Aragorn.  This is Legolas 
of Mirkwood, Boromir of Gondor, Gimli of the Lonely Mountain and these are 
Frodo, Sam, Merry and Pippin from the Shire.  We have traveled far on urgent 
business and we need rest and shelter.”  The man insisted, his brow suddenly 
creasing with interesting lines which probably indicated worry.

“Everyone’s business is urgent to himself and my business is the safety of Lorien.  
I cannot give admittance to all chance comers who ask for it.  I must have a 
compelling reason to allow any within the Lady’s Wood.”  I answered severely.  
Of course, I would have to let them in eventually but I was enjoying my little 
game.  I was curious to see just how desperate the company was.

At my words Legolas opened his mouth to say something angry but he received a 
stern look from the dark-haired human and shut his mouth.  ‘Well, well, well,’ I 
thought to myself ‘obedience from a Mirkwood prince.’  The lady’s assignment 
might well prove more interesting than I had hoped.

“I am certain the lady expects us and seeks word of our mission.  Send to her and 
she will tell you her wishes.”  Aragorn said managing to keep hold of his 
patience.

“I may be presumed to know my lady’s wishes.”  I said haughtily.  With this 
remark I succeeded in breaking Legolas who with an exasperated sigh turned 
away to whisper with the dwarf.  I was a bit embarrassed at how gleeful I felt over 
this.  Now if I could break the ranger’s temper I would have something to report 
to my lady on top of having a pleasant afternoon myself.

“I am confident you merit the trust reposed in you, Haldir.”  Aragorn replied with 
an obstinate calm that was all the more stubborn to compensate for Legolas’ 
frustration.  “If that trust extends so far as to deny entrance to the companions of 
Mithrandir, a prince of Mirkwood, a lord of Gondor and a lord of the Lonely 
Mountain then I can but appeal to your best judgment and content myself with 
your decision.”

It actually took me a few seconds to peel back the layers of the man’s last 
statement.  I finally decided that it had been a mild insult coupled with a bluff.  It 
was an insult because the blasted man had not referred to himself as Isildur’s Heir 
or my lady Arwen’s betrothed neither had he named the pale hobbit as the 
ringbearer.  Anyone Galadriel trusted enough to bring her a cup of tea would have 
known that much.  Thus, the man was essentially saying that either I was not at all 
trusted or in the alternative if I was trusted then the ranger knew I was playing a 
game.  Hence the bluff: the man had essentially dared me to tell him to go.  And, 
of course, if I did that then my lady would skin me alive and let Celeborn watch.

As I stood wondering how I could have fallen so far as to have been 
outmaneuvered by a man, the frail hobbit approached.  I believe he was called 
Frodo but he hardly needed a name as he was so obviously the ringbearer.  
Someone really should have told the small creature that he should stop 
spasmodically clutching at the chain around his neck if he wanted to appear 
inconspicuous. 

"Strider?"  The small one asked piteously.

The man's attention left me and focused upon the hobbit.  "Go and rest with the 
others.  This should not take much longer."  'Strider' punctuated his words a with 
gentle pat to Frodo's curly hair.  Thus reassured the hobbit retreated a few paces 
where the rest of his group slumped together looking weary and bored.

I found that I was annoyed by the interruption.  Surely, I should have been 
Aragorn's only concern at such a time.  Why did the man allow himself to be 
distracted from me, even for a moment?  I held the power of life and death over 
his pathetic little company.  If I sent them away they would most likely be orc 
meat by the morning.  The fact that I wasn't going to send them away shouldn't 
have made a difference.

"My decision must rest upon sound reasons."  I said haughtily, intending to take 
and keep the man's attention for as long as I chose to hold it.  "And you have 
given me no reason to give you shelter beside your already stated desire which I 
naturally discount."

Grey eyes looked at me inquisitively and automatically I let my thoughts and 
features drift into stillness.  In this way I could even conceal myself from my 
lady.  Aragorn would scry nothing of my mind from my countenance.  Even so, 
the man nodded a little to himself as though he had found what he had been 
seeking.  Despite my confidence in the mask I wore I found myself unnerved.  

"Elves are renown for their hospitality and graciousness to all who come to them.  
Would you injure such a noble reputation?"  Aragorn asked.  Despite the pleading 
in his voice and the occasional gesture for emphasis I could tell the man was 
thinking before he reacted.

"Have you not heard, man, elves will not long remain upon these shores?"  I said 
not caring if the reference brought him painful thoughts of Arwen and those he 
loved in Rivendell.  "Should we care for reputation when we are so soon to be 
quit of this world?  You must do better than that."  I wanted to force the man to 
admit that he represented the company of the ring.  When he did I meant to call 
him a fool for not saying so right off and saving us all trouble.

I had hoped my persistence would discombobulate the man.  To my dismay, 
however, he not only appeared calm but I detected the faint trace of smugness 
around his mouth.  It was as though he had formed some initial impression of me 
which my words and actions now confirmed.  "Perhaps, then, you would show 
courtesy to a fellow elf and let us in for the sake of news of your Mirkwood kin."  
The man essayed.

"My lady is not over fond of Thranduil.  I believe I would be forgiven if I was 
curt with his son."  I answered.  Then I allowed a bit of  impatience to enter my 
voice.  "Come, is there nothing else?  Have you no better reason to convince me?"

"I have one more reason."  Aragorn stated.  I turned to look at him, one eyebrow 
raised expectantly.  "If I were allowed to rest and see my companions secure then 
I could devote myself entirely to appreciating your subtle and sardonic wit."

With that I realized the game was up.  If I did not end it now the man might fully 
reverse our positions and threaten to leave. Thus putting me in the humiliating 
position of having to name reasons, without mentioning the obvious, why the 
company should remain in Lorien.  Resolved to make the best of it I smiled at 
Aragorn and bowed my head in acquiescence.  "There, you see what may be 
accomplished if you would only appeal to reason.  I am happy to admit you to the 
realm of the Fair Galadriel."

Relief flooded through Aragorn's face at my words.  I was gratified to think that 
the man had not been as confident or controlled as I had been led to believe.  
After all, I had pushed him hard in order to study him while he was under 
pressure.  It would have been disappointing if the man had never taken me 
seriously.

"Thank you, Haldir."  Aragorn said with a small smile of genuine gratitude.  
Caught somewhat off guard I smiled back.
*
The motley company rose at the man's call and dusted themselves off.  I was just 
prepared to signal the patrol forward when I noticed the dwarf grumbling to 
Legolas.  Upon first encountering the group I had been so intent upon Aragorn 
and my attempts to provoke reactions from him that I had allowed the presence of 
the dwarf to drift to the back of my mind.  Now I cursed myself for such a 
rudimentary oversight.

"The dwarf will have to be blindfolded."  I informed my patrol, the creature 
himself and his companions.  I kept my voice firm and matter of fact refusing to 
let any hint of apology through.

"What!?"  Demanded Gimli, drawing himself up to his, ahem, full height.

"What?!"  Demanded Aragorn at the same time.  I had been trying for the last half 
hour to make the man angry or to bring him to some other great display of 
emotion but now that I had succeeded I wished that I had not. 

"It is the law.  I can make no exception."  I said without meeting anyone's eyes.

"I am a friend and kinsman here."  Legolas interjected.  "I will vouch for Gimli."

"It is not enough.  He cannot witness the path into the heart of our land.  It is 
forbidden.”  I replied unhappily.  The man had withstood my earlier mockery and 
obstreperousness well.  Now it must seem to him and the others that I was 
pushing matters too far.  I regretted this because it would make it more difficult to 
carry out the rest of my lady's assignment: to earn the trust and friendship of 
Arwen's betrothed.

"I like this not and I find this elf to be singularly lacking in courtesy."  The dwarf 
directed this last comment to me with a sharp jab of his thumb.  "But for the sake 
of the fellowship I will endure this indignity if Legolas will submit also."

"Gimli, I am an elf."  The prince responded faintly horrified.

"So?"  The dwarf asked in no mood to be understanding.

"Enough!"  Aragorn's anger had turned cold and his eyes were iron.  "What is 
done to one shall be done to all."  The group regarded the man with curiosity.  
Apparently, they were unaccustomed to hearing such severity in Aragorn's voice.  
The blond man exchanged looks with two of the hobbits and Legolas and the 
dwarf also shared a meaningful glance.  I had the distinct impression that each 
was glad that he had not been the one responsible for the harshness in the voice of 
the ranger-king.

Soon enough, eight hoods were found and each member of the group permitted 
himself to be blindfolded without further objection.  When we were ready I 
guided Aragorn's hand to my arm so that I could lead him safely.  Frodo held 
tightly to the man's other hand and in turn the ringbearer was flanked by another 
hobbit.  My brother, Rumil, ended the line by taking hold of that hobbit's 
shoulder.  Behind us, Orophin and another elf flanked the two remaining hobbits 
with the blond man in the middle holding a hobbit hand in each of his own.  
Finally, an elf led Legolas who led the dwarf.  The dwarf, I could not help but 
notice, declined any other assistance.  As we proceeded Aragorn moved 
confidently, evidently trusting to my guidance.  I was a bit nonplused by the 
man's apparent faith that I would keep him clear of any obstacle or hindrance.  It 
might simply have been naivete on his part but all the same I found that I was 
flattered.
*
As my lady greeted our guests I loitered in the background.  In truth, I might have 
taken a softer line with the fellowship if I had known Mithrandir had been lost.  
Still, no one had bothered to mention it to me so I did not reproach myself over 
much.  Besides, Galadriel herself was not being particularly comforting.  I was 
not privy to what passed between her and the fellowship through her mind touch 
but the blond man and the ringbearer were almost in tears by the end.

The audience concluded I conducted the group to a place where they could rest.  I 
did my duty quietly not wanting to further antagonize the would-be king.  It 
would be enough of a challenge to cozy up to him tomorrow without ruffling his 
feathers any further tonight.  When I saw that the group was settled I retreated 
slightly into the trees.  I hoped I might gain some insight by watching the group 
unobserved.

For a time everyone sat absorbed in the lament for Mithrandir.  The hobbits shed a 
few tears and fell asleep comforting one another.  The dwarf also went to sleep 
quickly.  Legolas had disappeared on his own and I left him to himself in favor of 
keeping an eye on the man I was assigned to watch.  Aragorn had approached the 
other man, Boromir, and he seemed to be consoling the blond warrior.  I could not 
quite get close enough to overhear their words but by the end of the conversation 
Boromir appeared more at ease.  Not long after both men were asleep.  I lingered 
a little longer to make sure all was as it seemed and then I left them for the night.
*
I was strolling through the moonlight, trying to put in order all I had so far 
observed of Arwen's intended when a figure appeared on the path in front of me.

“What are you trying to do, Haldir?”  The prince of Mirkwood asked quietly.

I was startled but I recovered quickly.  “I was trying to enjoy an evening walk.”  I 
said contriving to look casual.  “And I must say I was succeeding well enough but 
now an impediment seems to have sprung up in my way.”

Legolas smiled and approached until we were quite close.  “You might be better 
served if you devoted the utmost seriousness to what I have to tell you.”  The elf 
confided.

“I assure you my ears are absolutely, flappingly wide open.”  I replied plucking a 
loose thread from my tunic.

Irritation flashed across the prince’s face but he soon mastered himself.  “Don’t 
play games with Aragorn.  You won’t win and he does not need the distraction.”

“Is the tall ranger under your protection?  Legolas, I think that is utterly charming.  
Upon my word, my intentions are strictly honorable.”  I assured the prince, 
beaming bright enough to outshine the moon , “But,” and here I allowed my smile 
to fade somewhat.  “Will not that nice dwarf you are traveling with become 
jealous that you are so intent upon protecting our valiant little hero-king?”

“Aragorn has no need of my protection. . .” My interlocutor began a puzzled look 
on his pretty face.  Then his expression darkened as the meaning of the rest of my 
words seemed to register.  “What are you insinuating about me and Gimli?”  
Legolas questioned dangerously.

“Why, nothing at all.  I do apologize if I misinterpreted the situation.”  I answered 
my voice dripping as much innuendo as I could pour into it.

I thought the prince was about to begin a lecture on the elevated and spiritual 
aspect of love and friendship but he caught himself.  With a supreme effort 
Legolas brought himself back to the subject of the ranger.  


“You misunderstand my motive in speaking to you, Haldir.”  The prince 
began visibly struggling to appear reasonable.  “I do not know if your 
attitude stems from some misguided loyalty to the lady Arwen or from 
your own boredom but heed me, March Warden: If you value your quiet, 
simple world do not involve yourself with the Dunadan.  Do you imagine 
Elrond’s daughter wished to fall in love with a mortal?  Or for that matter 
do you believe that I intended to go about protecting hobbits and trailing a 
step behind the king of men?”

“No, do not mistake me.”  Legolas continued when I would have spoken.  
“I can say nothing against Aragorn.  There is no other like him and I do 
not regret my choice.  But Haldir if you do not break from whatever 
mischief you have planned and leave the man to himself then you will 
suddenly find yourself discontent with the life you have always known.  
The security of your beautiful piece of the world will grow too small to 
contain you.  The fate of those you have never known will come to trouble 
you.  What was once trivial will take on new importance and what you 
once thought of as certain will be assailed by doubts.”  The prince’s eyes 
shone and his pale skin seemed to glow with conviction.

Well, now I had no choice but to learn more about this strange man who 
had seemingly ensnared two otherwise sane elves.  Though, I had been 
impressed with what I had seen of Aragorn thus far I could not see 
whatever force it was that bound both Arwen and Legolas to him.  
“Perhaps if you could give me some notion of this man’s appeal I might be 
better able to guard myself against him.”  I said not even attempting to 
disguise my interest.

“Haldir, you have not heard me.”  The prince answered, not quite sadly.

“I have taken in every word.”  I returned, slightly wounded.  “Very good 
of you to warn me.  We elves must stand together in these changing times, 
after all.  Now, I’d like it if you could explain-”

“Good night, Haldir.”  Legolas interrupted gently.  In the next moment he 
was gone.

Here was a mystery, indeed.  I spent the hours until daylight pondering the 
Mirkwood prince’s motive in speaking to me.  I couldn’t wait for my next 
opportunity with Aragorn.  He had seemed to me a strong leader.  I 
guessed that he was gentle and patient with those he was tasked to protect 
but stern when the occasion called for it.  On top of that he was savvy 
enough to hold his own in an encounter with the best the Golden Wood 
had to offer, namely me.  In sum, he was quite formidable but even so 
Legolas had to be exaggerating or playing some game of his own.  I meant 
to find out sooner rather than later.  I could not remember when I had last 
been this excited.
*
Though fatigue still hung about them heavily all the fellowship save the 
hobbits woke with the sun.  I watched as the dwarf grunted and stretched 
his spine, making no fewer than six distinctive cracking sounds.  Boromir 
ran water over his face and hands and looked about as though he was only 
slowly remembering that he was safe and had no need to march today.  
Legolas disappeared murmuring something about a bath.  Aragorn was 
bent over the group’s supplies, taking inventory of what needed to be 
repaired and what needed to be replaced.

“You were most unkind yesterday.”  I said materializing beside the man.  
To his credit he did not start.  He must have been used to having elves 
sneak up on him.  I automatically disregarded the possibility that he had 
heard my approach.  “I suppose you found it amusing letting a poor, 
simple elf natter on without informing him that he was in the august 
presence of Aragorn Elessar, Captain of the Dunedain, last of the line of 
Isildur, Prince of the Dawn, Champion of Middle-Earth and king-to-be.  
You might have taken pity upon me, my lord, and spared me so much 
embarrassment.”  I chided.

“You are mocking me, Haldir.”  The man asserted correctly.

“Not a bit of it, sir.  In fact, I have come to offer my most humble 
apologies and to try and make amends.”  I said anything but humble.

“And what form will this ‘amends’ take?  I do not think I can afford too 
much of your humility, March Warden.”  Aragorn asked, sounding half 
amused and half wary.

“I will take you through Lorien, of course, and show you the lay of the 
land.  I can show you more in a day than you could learn on your own if 
you scouted for a month.”  As I spoke I saw that the man’s glance strayed 
to his companions.  I quickly perceived that he was reluctant to leave them 
unattended so soon.  He would not go off with me until he was certain his 
charges were somewhat easier in their surroundings.  Instantly, I modified 
my offer.  “My duties will detain me through the morning but this 
afternoon I will be free if you are of mind to keep company with me.”

Aragorn’s gaze lingered longest on the still sleeping form of the 
ringbearer.  ‘You can’t hold his hand every moment.’  I thought irritably.  
Finally, the man turned back to me and I read his decision before he 
spoke.  

“I will have need of familiarizing myself with this territory and I would be 
glad of your assistance.”  Came the courteous reply.  I inclined my head in 
acknowledgment.

“Aragorn!”  The man turned at the sound of his name.  Boromir was 
standing a few paces away trying to communicate by his eyes and rather 
unsubtle jerks of his head that he wished private communication with the 
ranger.  Obligingly, Aragorn went to the other man who took him by the 
arm and led him a few paces further from me.

Directing the occasional look in my direction Boromir bent close to his 
captain and whispered: “The hobbits will be hungry when they rise.  I 
don’t know how we are expected to act.  I would like to be able to tell the 
little ones what they may look forward to.  Do these elves mean to feed us 
or just make fun of us?”

“A bit of both, I expect.”  Aragorn answered wryly.  “The hobbits will do 
well enough by the elves no matter the size of their appetites.  As for us, 
Boromir, we are guests here.  It would be unwise as well as uncivil to 
judge our hosts too harshly.”  From where I stood listening to the 
whispered conversation I gave both men my most fey smile.  Boromir’s 
eyes widened and I knew he was disturbed. 

“Before your duty deprives us of your company, I wonder if you would be 
so good to point us in the direction of the kitchens.”  Aragorn called to me 
as he sighed and patted the blond man’s shoulder in a gesture designed not 
only to comfort but to remind Boromir of himself.

“Did someone say kitchen?”  A groggy voice sounded from the waking 
pile of hobbits.

“Indeed, and most remarkable kitchens they are where the tables groan 
beneath the weight of new baked bread, rounds of cheese, fresh 
vegetables, dozens of eggs, bowls of mushrooms, platters of meat and fish, 
cauldrons of savory herb stew and a veritable orchard’s worth of fresh 
fruit.”  I announced watching as all four hobbits became very alert.  

“Oh,” One of the furry footed creatures breathed, longing etched on his 
face.

“I will escort you there if you wish.”  I suggested casually.

There was a ringing chorus of ‘yes, please’ from all but the ringbearer.  
When this omission was noted the roundest hobbit reconsidered his assent.  
“I suppose it might be better to let Merry and Pippin have a first look.  
Like as not the sight of all that marvelous food will be too much for me 
and I’ll go right into a fit.  We may as well use the last of our rations 
anyhow and we’ll go get a bit of the fresh later, then.”  The plump one 
concluded but then he added plaintively: “Won’t we Mr. Frodo?  Just after 
you’ve had a bit more rest. right?”

“Of course, Sam.  Go now if you like.  I’m just not ready to start eating 
quite yet.  I’m sorry.”  The rignbearer said looking sorrowful.  His pudgy 
servant went sorting through his pack with an expression that proclaimed 
that it was no trouble at all.

“Well then, with your permission, my lord, we will be off.”  I addressed 
this last to Aragorn with an elaborate bow.  I saw, however, that the 
hobbits were looking at the man with hopeful faces.  They had taken my 
request for permission seriously.  Worse than that the man himself 
appeared to be thinking about the question.  “I will see that they are 
looked after.”  I said feeling a little foolish.

“We’ll behave, won’t we Merry.”  The smallest hobbit piped up.  “We’ve 
learned our lesson about what happened in Rivendell.”

“Yes, we absolutely won’t make that mistake again.”  Merry confirmed 
sincerely.  “You can trust us, Strider.”

“All right, then.  Be off with you.”  Aragorn answered affectionately as the 
hobbits yipped with delight.

“Mind you leave something for the rest of us.”  Gimli called as each of my 
hands was seized in two smaller hands and I was nearly hauled off my 
feet.

“We will.”  Came the eager chorus as I attempted to steer the hobbits 
while maintaining my own balance.

When we were well away from the camp and the hobbits had settled down 
a bit I addressed my companions.  “Well now, my pretty creatures, why 
don’t you tell your new friend, Haldir, all about your adventures.”  And of 
course, dear little mites, they did just that.
*
I had taken a rather round about way to the kitchens. It was fortunate that I 
did so because any attempt at further communication with Merry and 
Pippin was prohibited once we arrived as the pair immediately began to 
gorge.  I called Rumil to me and put him in charge of the little ones.  I said 
goodbye to the hobbits but I don’t think they noticed.  I was not offended.  
I was glad to see so much delight in so simple and so basic a pleasure.

My conversation with the talkative cousins had been revealing in many 
ways, first, in the hobbits themselves.  I did my best to gather as much 
information about their companions without being obvious but they saw 
through me in moments.  “You want to know what everybody’s like.”  
Pippin stated rather than asked.  Surprised by how transparent I must have 
been I answered honestly.  Then the two laughed together and went on to 
give a short description of each of their comrades as though it was 
perfectly natural for me to be curious and for them to try and satisfy my 
curiosity.

The cousins spoke of all their companions lovingly.  When they came to 
Mithrandir I thought they might stop.  I prepared myself to be sensitive 
even though they had not yet mentioned Aragorn but all Merry said was 
that “Gandalf was good and kind.”  Pippin said nothing, though, he was 
the more loquacious of the two.  There was silence for a while and then 
Merry repeated his words a few times.  After another pause the hobbits 
seemed to emerge from their sadness and carry on with their descriptions.  

As each member of the fellowship was brought up I started to get more of 
a sense of the group dynamic.  Boromir was by far the most conflicted and 
he sought refuge in the company of the child-like hobbits. Whatever inner 
demons the man wrestled with it was clear Merry and Pippin loved him.  
Gimli was blunt and preferred confrontation to any other possible strategy.  
He was most satisfied arguing with Legolas.  The elf, himself had started 
off polite rather than friendly.  He had held himself somewhat aloof from 
the group.  When circumstances and the dwarf’s temper had forced 
Legolas into more interaction, he was revealed as a cheerful, occasionally 
playful creature.

Frodo’s personality seemed to have been completely overshadowed by his 
task.  He was the ringbearer; Suffering had bled all individuality out of 
him.  Merry and Pippin had known him before and it was obvious that 
Frodo’s transformation troubled them more than they could say.  Sam, as I 
had already guessed. was completely devoted to Frodo and had little in 
him left over for anything else.  I found all of this very interesting and it 
filled in a necessary background but at the same time I was becoming 
more and more eager to hear what my new friends thought of Aragorn.

“And then there is Strider.”  Pippin announced a grin splitting his face.  
“We’ve saved him for last because you want to know about him so 
particular.”  The hobbit accompanied this statement with a squeeze of my 
hand, perhaps meant to show he did not mean any harm by a little teasing.

“Why would you think that?”  I asked sounding exactly as though I was 
surprised by the notion that I should have any special interest in the man.

“Don’t know.  But it’s true.  Isn’t it, Merry?”  Pippin said, shrugging his 
shoulders.

“Oh, yes.  And, you know, if you had simply asked us right out we would 
have told you immediately.”  Merry affirmed.

I could not help but laugh.  I had no idea how the two hobbits perceived 
my interest but somehow I knew that it would be a mistake to lie to them.  
“Well, you have taught me a lesson.  From henceforth I will be candid and 
direct with all hobbits I chance to meet.”

Merry gave my hand a squeeze.  “That is usually best.”  He said and I 
laughed again

“Now tell me of your Strider since you know that it is of some moment to 
me.”  I responded.

“The first thing you notice about Strider,” Pippin began eagerly, “is that he 
is very stern, almost grim.  It can be quite frightening if you’re not used to 
it.  When first we saw him we were all scared witless.”

Merry nodded and took up where his cousin left off.  “He grows on you, 
though.  Sam didn’t like him much in the beginning but even before 
Rivendell we all just seemed to rely on him for everything.  I suppose he is 
more like your father than one of your mates.”

“He is not a bit like my father.”  Pippin interjected.

“Don’t we a dunce, Pip.  I don’t mean your father or mine for that matter 
only that he is like fathers.  You know, generally.”  Merry shot back 
giving his cousin a despairing look.

“Oh.  Yes, you don’t want to disappoint him.  That makes sense, then, I 
suppose.”  Pippin graciously admitted.  “I don’t know, there is something 
about him.  Even though, he is quite stern he somehow makes you feel 
hopeful. . . . Oh my!”  

Both hobbits froze in place, goggling.  Smiling I disengaged my hands 
from their now loose grasp.  I would have liked to spend more time in 
such novel discourse but other priorities had intervened.  I gave both 
hobbits a little push to start them moving the final few yards to the 
kitchens.

I spent the hours before I had agreed to meet Aragorn on patrol.  I drifted 
from checkpoint to checkpoint making sure that all was well.  I had 
organized the security of Lorien a long time ago and the arrangements had 
always been satisfactory.  The process hardly needed my supervision 
anymore.  Each elf knew his job and did it well.  But old habits were hard 
to break so I made my rounds.  Anyway I wasn’t sure how else I was to 
fill the time.
*
“Are you ready?”  I asked coming up to Aragorn as he sat mending a 
leather strap on one of the packs.

“Just a moment.”  The man replied absorbed in his task.  Suppressing a 
sigh I looked around for my friends of the morning.  I caught sight of 
Merry and Pippin soon enough but any hopes I had of a bit of conversation 
were dashed for both hobbits were fast asleep.

“Shall we go?”  The man’s voice intruded upon my contemplation of the 
napping figures but I concealed my startlement and led the way out of the 
camp.

“I trust you have settled in and that you and your companions are 
comfortable.”  I said getting the formalities out of the way.

“Yes, thank you.  It is a great relief to all of us to find safety if only for a 
little while.”  Aragorn responded according to the formula.

With the banalities over we passed the next few hours in relative quiet, our 
talk limited to comments upon our surroundings.  It seemed to me that 
Aragorn was almost familiar with all I had to show him of the Golden 
Wood and I remarked upon this curiously.

“Arwen loves this place and speaks of it often.”  He said as we came to the 
crest of a small hill and were treated to a view that revealed all that was 
beautiful in autumn.  

The man darted a quick glance at me after we spent several moments 
reveling in the breathtaking vista before us.  “Arwen also spoke of you 
with affection.”

“And what did my lady’s lovely granddaughter have to say about her 
devoted servant?”  I laughed.

“She said that you were very clever.”  The man replied.

“That was tactful.”  I observed mirthfully.

“She said, also, that you were not as happy as she would have liked you to 
be.”

“My lady Arwen is very kind but, I think, overly sentimental.”  I 
murmured feeling, suddenly, very cold.

“That would, indeed, explain a great deal, wouldn’t it.”  Aragorn said 
smiling.  The man’s little joke lightened the mood and gave me the chance 
to recover my humor.  I smiled back at him unable to keep all the gratitude 
out of my expression.

“I am a little surprised you have not had occasion to visit us here before.”  
I inquired casually after a minute or so.

“The Lord and Lady of this place have little reason to love me.  I did not 
want to force my presence upon them.”  Aragorn answered a little 
wistfully.  “Besides I seldom have had time for social occasions.  As much 
as I would love to learn more of elfkind my duty calls me to the cities of 
men. ”  I could understand that.  The man had only a bare seven decades.  
It was astonishing he had traveled as much as he had.

“When I was much younger I considered making Imladris my home.”  I 
said.  A time in my life I had not thought of for a long time suddenly 
springing to my mind.

“I did know that.  Why did you change your mind?”

“Oh, a number of reasons, I suppose.”  I said memories flooding back.  
“Glorfindel and Erestor were already so well known and I wanted to make 
a reputation for myself and I feared their fame would overwhelm any 
deeds of mine.  Then, too, there was Galadriel.  Her vision seemed so 
sharp and clear but now. . .”  I trailed off not certain how to finish my 
thought.

“But clarity is at the expense of detail and breadth.”  The ranger spoke so 
softly that had I been of his kind I would not have heard him.  As it was I 
was not certain he meant for me to hear him or even if he meant to speak 
at all.  His words, though, resonated perfectly with what I could not 
express before: My lady’s view of the world was in sharp focus but there 
was no ambiguity, no shades of meaning, no blending, no variety of 
perspective.  In short, it was deadly dull.

“But you have succeeded, Haldir.”  The ranger spoke now at normal 
volume.  “You have won honor for yourself and glory for Lothlorien.  You 
shall always be remembered among the dauntless and intrepid warrior 
elves.”

“A trained dwarf could do what I do.”  I said a little more bitterly than I 
intended.  My days of glory and perhaps the glory days of all elves were 
over.

“Ah, but not with your panache, Haldir.”  Aragorn said with a straight face 
and I had to laugh.

“Well, there you speak the very truth.”  I replied with a grin.  “And surely 
there is something to be said for style.”  

Aragorn smiled back and patted me on the back.  I nearly laughed again 
for it was the same gesture I had seen him deliver to Boromir and various 
hobbits.  Still it was somehow soothing and I did not laugh.

We lapsed back into companionable silence.  I had not planned to confide 
in the man the way I had done.  I told myself, however, that it had helped 
break the ice between us and therefore I had acted consistently with 
Galadriel’s commands.  So it had all been more or less in a good cause.
*
It was evening and I had shown Aragorn the main eastern routes from 
Lorien.  We were still a few minutes from the fellowship’s camp and I 
judged the time aright to further develop friendly relations with the man.  
“Stay a moment.”  I called to the ranger as he continued back towards his 
camp.  For most creatures physical intimacy was a shortcut to emotional 
intimacy.  I thought that I would not have had any trouble building a 
friendship with the man but I did not have time to go about it slowly.

The ranger stopped and turned to regard me.  I walked up to him coming 
closer than necessary for simple conversation.  “Why do you hurry?  
Surely the hobbits do not need you to tuck them in, do they?”

“Frodo has difficulty sleeping and as group we have all grown to depend 
on one another.  Their welfare is imperative to my own peace of mind.”  
The man answered acting oblivious to my nearness.

“Really, you don’t expect that the sky will fall if you are absent for an 
evening?”

“Did you not meet Merry and Pippin?”  Aragorn asked raising an 
eyebrow.

I laughed and put my arms around his neck.  “Tempt fate and stay here.”

“No, Haldir.”  The man said taking a step backward to extricate himself 
from my embrace.

“What human prudishness is this?”  I inquired closing the distance 
between us again though I did not touch him.  “Are you not lonely?  Am I 
not beautiful?  We are both male so my lady Arwen can have no 
objection.”

“That is not enough.”  Aragorn said softly.

“I hope you don’t expect me to be in love with you, man.”  I said my eyes 
bright with amusement.  “My lady Arwen aside, that sort of thing just 
doesn’t happen.”

“No, I don’t expect you to love me.”  The man answered a faint smile on 
his lips.  “But I do insist that there be some affection between us.  I don’t 
believe you even like me.”

“What makes you think I don’t like you?” I purred using the excuse of 
brushing a lock of his hair back to caress the side of his face.

“I am not a child, Haldir.”  Aragorn said in mild reproof gently removing 
my hand from his cheek.  “I know that you are bored and that I represent 
something of a novelty.  And I have not forgotten in whose kingdom I am.  
You are doing your duty, Haldir.  I am able to respect that.  I am not 
offended but neither am I tempted.  Good night.”  The man bowed 
courteously and went on to join the rest of the fellowship.
*
Why should I deny it: I was incensed   The man had all but called me a 
whore.  I didn’t mind that sort of thing as a prelude to sex but in this case I 
thought it was just plain discourteous.  The fact that he was mostly right 
didn’t matter.  It was also galling that the man thought I didn’t like him.  I 
did like him.  I had not been misleading him on that point.  I might even 
have liked him well enough to go to bed with him on my own initiative.  
Now, how was I supposed to gain his trust?  Wretched man!  No wonder 
Galadriel wanted some sort of hold on him: Whenever you thought you 
had him he slipped away.

By dawn I had walked off most of my anger.  With the wound to my pride 
already healing I could start to see the situation with a little more 
detachment.  In a way it was funny.  I didn’t seem to have any trouble 
being convincing when I dissembled only my sincerity was suspect, ironic 
that.  Besides all was not lost.  I was certain that the Aragorn and I had 
established something of a rapport.  From our first meeting I had found 
him interesting, even attractive- in a human sort of way.  His dark hair was 
wavy with streaks of gray.  Most elves had straight hair.  Certainly all 
male elves had straight hair of one solid color.  Then, too, there was 
something about his physical presence.  For a man he was lean and wiry 
but his frame was larger and sturdier than an elf’s and he was able to 
project strength and stability.  Oh, yes, the man was worth a second try 
even without my lady’s mandate.  Smiling I turned my footsteps in the 
direction of the guest quarters.

I did not avoid Aragorn but neither did I seek him out in particular.  
Instead I spent my time being generally useful.  If a bit of twine, a spare 
flint or a new whetstone was required I fetched it with only minimal 
sarcasm.  Merry and Pippin found my company most agreeable.  I admit I 
bribed them a bit with sweets but what sort of warrior would I be if I did 
not know how to exploit a weakness.  I debated trivialities with the dwarf 
which seemed to irritate Legolas.  Apparently I had usurped the other elf’s 
role so I changed tacks and told Gimli a few flattering stories about 
Galadriel.  This appeased Legolas who immediately fell to teasing his 
friend about his infatuation with my lady.  Aragorn observed all this with 
an appraising eye.  Yes, man, you see: Haldir is a very good elf.

Once Merry and Pippin had had a little while to digest their third snack of 
the afternoon Boromir called them for a bit of weapons practice.  After 
Boromir had taken the little ones through a few rehearsals of the basic 
maneuvers the blond warrior asked Aragorn to help him demonstrate a 
few more complicated moves.  Panting the hobbits gratefully retreated to 
the sidelines and the ranger stepped forward.  At first, the two performed 
basic techniques slowing and exaggerating their movements so the hobbits 
could follow.  Gradually, though, the speed and complexity of Boromir 
attacks increased.  The entire fellowship had gathered to watch as the 
battle intensified.
The hobbits looked on admiring the rapid back and forth, the lightening 
thrusts and dodges.  I was starting to get a little worried, though.  The 
blond man wasn’t practicing or putting on a show for the hobbits.  He 
seemed to be fighting his captain in earnest.  Boromir was attacking with 
too much vehemence and too much violence.  Something in the man’s 
face had changed too.  His features were stripped of everything but a 
savage pain and an animal’s instinct to strike out in self-defense.  Aragorn 
faced a mad thing, a beast brought to bay.  If the ranger did not move fast 
enough there was no way he would be able to avoid serious injury.

My worry had turned to alarm and I quickly looked to the rest of the 
fellowship.  My fear was confirmed in their anxious expressions.  Gimli 
seemed to be holding back from interfering only by the strongest effort of 
will.  Even the hobbits were tense, aware that something had changed. I 
sought Legolas for some explanation.  Why was no one stopping this?  
Catching my glance the other elf whispered: “Aragorn can handle him.”  I 
was hardly reassured.  What was going on?

Despite Boromir’s fury Aragorn did not attack.  His sword flashed and 
danced but only in self-defense.  The ranger was relying on quickness to 
avoid the other man’s blade without directly matching his strength against 
the younger man.  Aragorn was working to conserve his energy as 
Boromir was quickly exhausting himself pouring all of his force into every 
blow.  The blond warrior’s strokes were losing their precision as his 
onslaught continued.  He no longer fought as a skilled warrior but as a 
desperate man.  I relaxed a little.  Aragorn was no longer so hard pressed.

Then without warning the ranger struck Boromir’s wrist with the flat of 
his sword.  The blond man’s weapon dropped from his nerveless fingers.  
Aragorn raised his blade to the other’s throat but he held it there for less 
than a second.  Boromir stood still staring down at his empty sword hand, 
looking a little confused.  All the ferocity had drained from him.  Aragorn 
bent, retrieved his subject’s sword from where it had landed a few feet 
away and held it out hilt first.

“I yield.”  Boromir murmured making no move to take back his blade.  
Aragorn nodded still holding out the sword.

“I yield.”  The man repeated a little louder and looking up to meet his 
royal captain’s gaze.

“Take back your weapon, Steward’s son.”  The king commanded.  For a 
moment I thought Boromir would drop to his knees.  In the end, however, 
the man only took his sword back.  Then he made his way to Merry and 
Pippin.  All of the concern I had seen on the cousins’ face had disappeared 
and they cheered and clapped as though all they had witnessed was a 
particular energetic demonstration by two master swordsmen.

I sidled up to Legolas and in a low voice demanded: “What was all that 
about?  He meant to kill him.”

“No, not really.”  Legolas answered and I saw that the elf had also been 
nervous during the fight.  “Boromir is angry and confused about many 
things.  This helps him.  Believe me, the last thing he wants is to hurt 
Aragorn.  He cut him once.  It was only a scratch but Boromir was literally 
ill with remorse.  For days he could eat nothing and barely spoke a word.  
Aragorn is much more careful now.”

“This is madness.”  I said.

“Aragorn thinks there will come a time when Boromir won’t need to do 
this any more.”  Legolas offered, a bit defensively.

“He doesn’t ‘need’ to do it now.  This is madness.”  I repeated.

“What would you have Boromir do?”  Legolas demanded fiercely.  “You 
don’t know what it has been like for him, what it has been like for all of 
us.  He cannot keep it inside.  He cannot take it out on the little ones.  
Aragorn does what he can for him but you just don’t know.”  Legolas 
finished grief in his eyes.

“All right, Legolas.  I don’t know.  There, now, you needn’t get upset.”  I 
said still appalled but trying to soothe my fellow elf.  I was completely at a 
loss.  I had seen Boromir romping and laughing with Merry and Pippin.  I 
didn’t understand what could drive him to such an extremity.  Then, too, 
there was Legolas.  I was terrified that the prince was going to burst into 
tears right in front of me.  I was simply not equipped to deal with that sort 
of problem.

The elf earned my undying gratitude, however, by pulling himself 
together.  “I’m sorry, Haldir.  I know it seems odd but, really, it’s the best 
way.”  I nodded gravely prepared to take it on faith.  Satisfied Legolas 
gave me a little smile before turning away.  Determining that I would try 
and sort this all out later, I remembered my purpose and looked around for 
the ranger.  

I only just caught sight of the man as he was leaving the camp.  Naturally, 
I followed him.  Though, I waited a bit so that it was not obvious to the 
fellowship that that was what I was doing,  I thought I had lost him for a 
moment and I wasted some time retracing my steps but eventually I found 
him.  He was at the baths, stripped to the waist.  He was about to remove 
his trousers and enter the heated spring when he must have been struck by 
a sudden emotion for he suddenly brought his hands up and covered his 
face.

He stood like that for a long time.  If he was weeping he made no sound 
and his shoulders did not shake.  Part of me wanted to go and allow the 
man some privacy but I couldn’t move.  The more I watched the more 
fascinated I became.  Steam rose from the bathing pool and the moonlight 
was diffused by the mist lending a surreal illumination to the tableau.  The 
man stood straight and tall, The muscles clearly delineated on his arms, 
shoulders and back. The sweat from his recent battle had mostly dried but 
here and there I still saw the glimmering trails of salty perspiration 
meandering down the warm and living flesh.  The picture could have 
stood as a tribute to all that was proud and strong in men except that 
Aragorn still covered his face.

Finally, I could endure it no longer.  “Hail, Lord of the dawn.”  I caroled 
merrily, stepping forward as though I had only just then come upon the 
man.  Aragorn did not move at the first sound of my voice and a cold fear 
that I had done something terribly wrong came upon me.  In the next 
moment, though, the man finally dropped his hands from his face and took 
a deep breath: 

“Hello Haldir.”  To my immense relief Aragorn looked and sounded 
normal as he greeted me.

Still slightly unnerved I actually stammered a bit: “Have I disturbed you?  
Would you like me to go?”

“No, please stay.  I have been meaning to speak to you.”  The man said 
meeting my eyes.  “You surprised me today.”

“I am capable of being pleasant when I put my mind to it.”  I retorted with 
mild affront.

“Of course you are pleasant.  No, what I meant was that I was surprised 
that you made the effort after the way I spoke to you yesterday.”  Aragorn 
replied.  “I wanted to apologize for what I said.  I was- Well, that doesn’t 
matter.  I am sorry.”

“You need not be.”  I said surprised in turn.  “After all, you weren’t 
wrong.  My lady is very interested in you.  Did the lady Arwen tell you to 
expect that?”

“Arwen is aware of her grandmother’s appetite for information of all sorts, 
but it wasn’t that.”  ‘Appetite for information’ that was the nicest way I 
had heard yet of saying Galadriel couldn’t stay out of her grandchildren’s 
business.  I had known her to spend days over her mirror watching for 
even the most trivial vision of Arwen or the twins.  I gave the man an 
inquiring look hoping he would continue his explanation. 

 “When we were introduced, there was something about Lady Galadriel’s 
mind touch.  It felt. . . invasive, almost coercive.  I did not like it.”  The 
ranger confessed.  I nodded as I regarded Aragorn with sympathy.  There 
were times when I, too, felt that my lady overreached, tried to take more 
than I wanted to give.

After a brief pause I approached quite close to the man and spoke again.  
“You were not entirely correct, though, in what you said yesterday.”  He 
was about to apologize again but I cut him off raising a finger to my lips.  

“I do like you.”  I said placing my hands on Aragorn’s shoulders.  “I might 
even go so far as to say I like you very much.”

In response the ranger carefully, almost shyly put one hand on my hip.  I 
smiled encouragingly.  Moving slowly, giving him plenty of opportunity 
to pull away if he wished, I brushed my lips against Aragorn’s.  Drawing 
back a little I watched for the man’s reaction.  At first, there was no 
reaction to observe.  The ranger just stood before me as though lost in 
thought.  Then his eyes seemed to regain their focus and he smiled just a 
little, just the smallest lift to the corners of his mouth but it was enough.

My arms wound around his neck and he clasped me about the waist so that 
our bodies pressed together.  His first kiss fell softly on my mouth, almost 
as soft as my own kiss had been.  We traded that kiss back and forth, 
taking turns.  With each exchange the kiss grew more confident, more 
intimate.  Finally, Aragorn drew my bottom lip into his mouth and we 
stopped worrying about whose turn it was.

“If you do me a favor, Aragorn, I will do you one in return.”  I offered 
several minutes later as I rubbed my face against Aragorn’s bearded 
cheek, breathless and a little flushed.

“If it is in my power to do you a favor, Haldir, then I will do it without any 
need for requital.”  The man breathed into my ear.

“You won’t make it very far as king with that attitu- Ah-h.” My 
remonstrance turned into a little gasp as his tongue darted out to paint my 
earlobe from bottom to tip.

“What would you ask, lovely elf?”  Aragorn questioned seriously, 
retreating a little but still holding me against him.

“Now, I want you to hear me out.”  I said matching his seriousness.  
“Don’t refuse out of hand but consider carefully before answering.”  
Aragorn’s shoulder muscles tightened under my hands as I spoke.  The 
mantle of decision and responsibility descended upon him separating the 
man from me though he still seemed to be holding me in an affectionate 
embrace.  

Taking a deep breath I proceeded earnestly: “You came here for a 
purpose.  Continue with that purpose.”  I might have been holding one of 
the Arganath in my arms now.  The man analyzed and assessed my words, 
waiting to hear the particulars of my dire request.  I leaned into him, 
lowering my voice: “Finish your bath.”

If I had not been in actual physical contact with the man I might not have 
been able to register any reaction.  Aragorn kept a straight face but warmth 
returned to his flesh, the light of unyielding majesty dimmed in his eyes 
and he relaxed.  Feeling him return to himself I suddenly became aware of 
my own body.  It seemed to me that even as I had set up my joke I had 
been trembling whether with fear or cold I could not have said.

“I hope you understand the weightiness of what you ask of me.”  Aragorn 
said gravely and I had to bite my lip to keep from bursting into peels of 
laughter as I nodded.  I had never known anyone who was able to keep 
such a straight face as this man.

“I would not do this for just anyone, Haldir.”  The ranger continued. “And 
even for you I must plead a lack of expertise.  I will do it, but you must 
lend your assistance.”  And with that I felt myself lifted into the air.  
Before I could gather my wits I realized that I was falling, Aragorn still 
holding me.  Then we landed, plunging into welcoming hot water.  The 
ranger had jumped into the spring taking me with him.

At the first indication that I wanted to be released, the grinning man put 
me down.  More than waist deep in water I splashed him indignantly.  He 
splashed me right back, just as indignant.  Thus, for nearly a minute the 
guardian of the Golden Wood and the future king of men chased one 
another, splashing and laughing.  Soon, though, the languorous heat of the 
water and our own dignity reasserted themselves and the water fight 
concluded.

“Well, I suppose you really do need my assistance, man, for it has been a 
settled point for a very long time that one should undress before bathing.”  
I said, my voice coming out a bit huskier than usual.  Matching my actions 
to my words, I started stripping off my sodden clothing.

“Well, of course, it seems obvious after someone has thought of it.”  
Aragorn answered, voice deep and rich with mirth.  He had only his 
trousers to remove which he did.  Then he wrung the excess water from 
them and tossed them onto the shore near where he had left his boots and 
shirt.

When I had taken off my clothes I left the pool ascending the stones steps 
carved for the purpose.  Aragorn’s eyes followed me with open curiosity.  
When I reached the bank I removed my soaked shoes and lay out my other 
clothes with care.  I was completely comfortable with my nakedness and I 
was mostly comfortable with the man’s gaze.  Then I turned to the natural 
rock wall that bordered part of the pool and provided some shelter.  Like 
all things in Lorien there was no true distinction between indoors and out 
and this rocky border contained discreetly worked shelves containing all 
the necessities for a civilized bath.

I reentered the pool holding a sponge and several soaps.  My wet body had 
chilled a little by the night air and I hissed a little as my scrotum contacted 
the hot water.  When I was warm again I selected one soap and put the 
others on the bank.  I turned to face the man who had been watching me 
all the while.  His expression was inscrutable once more.  Suddenly, I felt 
a small stab of guilt.  Perhaps my little joke had not been worth the 
anxiety- if only the momentary anxiety- I had caused Aragorn.  “You are 
not angry, then?”  I asked to reassure myself.

“‘Tis only a bath, Haldir.  I was going to take one anyway.”  The man 
replied, purposefully misunderstanding my concern.

“Here,” I said laughing and handing him the soap and sponge.  “It is my 
turn to watch for a while.”

Aragorn accepted the soap and sponge and began to wash.  He did not do 
anything differently than he would have done had I not been there.  He 
made absolutely no attempt at seduction and moved with simple 
efficiency.  Methodically he dipped his head into the water and scrubbed 
his face and scalp then he rubbed the soapy sponge across his chest and 
stomach, under his arms and over his shoulders.  I congratulated myself on 
picking a soap that would lather.  Watching foaming water cascade down 
sun-darkened, battle-hardened flesh is an experience I highly recommend.

The sight of Aragorn aroused in me an almost irresistible urge to 
participate.  I selected another soap and made my way to the man.  He 
smiled as I approached and cocked his head to the side as though asking 
me what I wanted.  I took the sponge from his hand and understanding my 
intention the ranger turned slightly granting access to his back.  The man 
sighed in contentment as I brought the sponge up and down his back in 
firm, steady strokes.

When I was done I put my arms around his waist and pressed my cheek 
against the back of his shoulder.  Aragorn turned in my arms so we were 
again face to face.  We pressed together, warm and wet.  Placing a hand on 
my chin the man tipped my head up so that he could kiss me.  His tongue 
pushed passed my lips and deep into my mouth.  I responded by tangling 
my fingers in his hair and trying to pull him further into me.  I had 
expected the man’s hair to feel rather coarse but it did not.  Each strand 
was thicker than an elf’s but the texture was soft and springy.  I felt rather 
than heard Aragorn make a small sound of satisfaction as the noise 
vibrated against my lips.

When the kiss ended I schooled my features to look politely inquisitive.  
“What shall we do now, my lord?”

“I suppose that is a question we must decide.”  Aragorn sighed stepping 
back and putting his hands lightly on my shoulders.

“Not I.”  I informed the man matter of factly.

“I don’t take your meaning, Haldir.”  The ranger replied, forehead 
crinkling.

“I mean that you have done me the favor I asked and now I grant a favor 
in return.  I am yours this night so what shall we do?”  

“That was but a jest, Haldir.  We should talk.”  Aragorn insisted.  

“Are you suggesting my promises are mere jests?”  I demanded an 
impudent smirk spreading over my face.  “Of course, if talking is your 
activity of choice I suppose I must comply but I admit I will be 
disappointed.  Just consider all our options:  We could play a game of 
chess, compose a lyric poem, have fierce and wanton sex.  Whatever you 
will.”

“That is my decision, is it?”  Aragorn asked dubiously.

“Mmhm.”  I said trying to look docile.  “I won’t even tease you.”

“Wicked elf, now I know that you are lying.”  Aragorn said stroking my 
cheek affectionately.

“I am in earnest, man.”

The ranger dipped his hand into the pool and let the water run through his 
fingers.“Well, I suppose that first we should go somewhere a little more 
dry.”  The man suggested remaining suspicious but unwilling to argue 
about it.

“One of the most attractive features of my talan has always been a notable 
lack of excess water.”  I informed the man.  “Let’s go there.”

Taking Aragorn’s hand I led him from the pool.  As we stood on the bank 
I handed hin one of the towels from the rock shelves and watched him as I 
dried myself.  I studied Aragorn as, for the first time, he stood completely 
naked.  His legs were long and lean just as I could have predicted.  My 
gaze flicked curiously to his groin and I was quite pleased with what I 
saw.  He was nicely shaped and bigger than I expected.  Taking him 
altogether I could see how some men came to consider elves a bit 
feminine.  He radiated power but it was not the power of my lady.  
Whether the difference sprung from his humanity or his masculinity I 
could not have said but it was potent, compelling and somehow life 
affirming.

“I doubt you will have any use for those for quite awhile.”  I told the man 
as he set aside the towel and walked along the bank stopping at the pile of 
his abandoned clothes.  “I confess that it is quite sweet but you have no 
need of modesty.”

“That is far easier for an elf to say than for a man, lovely Haldir.  But 
modesty or no I certainly have need of warmth.”  

I frowned.  I should have thought of that.  It was autumn and there was a 
chill in the air.  I had become so caught up in the undeniable strength of 
the man that I had forgotten the very simple fact that men got cold.  That 
would teach me to wax poetic and forget practicalities.

“Wear this.”  I suggested rummaging quickly through the contents of the 
stone shelves and coming up with a light bathrobe.  “It will be better than 
your damp trousers and my talan is not very far.”  Aragorn appraised the 
soft linen critically but he put it on, cinching it around his waist with the 
cloth tie.

“Quite elegant.”  I commented adjusting the collar and running my hands 
over his now covered chest.  Aragorn’s hands roamed down my sides as 
he leaned forward kissing me.  

Then, without warning, the man bent forward a bit and lifted me so that 
my legs naturally went around his waist.  I put my arms around his neck 
for balance and looked at him quizzically.  “What’s this?”

“I would like to carry you if you have no objection.”  Aragorn answered 
clasping me to him.

“If you want to play barbarian aren’t you supposed to drag me off to your 
cave by the hair?”  I laughed tugging gently at a lock of the man’s hair in 
demonstration.  It seemed to me, suddenly, that I had been doing a lot of 
laughing recently; much more than I had done in many years.

“If you’d like me to put you down, Haldir, you have only to say.”  The 
man waited a moment or two but I didn’t say anything, only settled myself 
more comfortably in his arms and hooked my ankles for better support.

“Which way to your cave, then, lovely one?”  Aragorn asked nuzzling 
against my ear and the side of my face.

“Straight ahead then left at the holly, my lord barbarian.”  I whispered 
between kisses to the man’s neck.
*
We made it to my talan though it took longer than expected since I 
wouldn’t give the man more than a few seconds to look at the path before 
drawing him into long, increasingly urgent kisses.  Aragorn had to release 
me so that we could safely ascend to my home and I found I was 
disappointed to let go of the man.  So much kissing and close contact had 
left me in a state of arousal and my nakedness made this very apparent.

I did not spend a great deal of time in my talan.  Thus, I had few 
furnishings besides the bed and a small clothes chest.  Normally, this was 
not something that bothered me but this night I wished I had had 
something a bit more decorative or at least expressive of my personality to 
show the man.  At least, I was able to come up with a wineskin of the rich 
lorien mead to help me play host.  Handing the wineskin to Aragorn I 
removed the belt of his robe and the pushed the material off his shoulders 
letting it fall to the floor.

“Any good?”  I asked after Aragorn had sipped the mead.  “I’d like a 
taste.”  I requested when the man nodded.  I pushed aside his hand, 
however, when he offered me the wineskin and instead moved in for a 
kiss.  I ran my tongue over the inside of his lips and over his tongue 
tasting the sweet drink mixed with Aragorn’s own flavor.

“That is good.”  I said when I had savored the traces on Aragorn’s tongue.  
“I would like some more.”  The ranger smiled and brought the wineskin to 
his lips.  Then he gave me to drink from his mouth.  After we had both had 
a few more sips the mead was put aside and I led Aragorn to my bed.

“Haldir, I-” Aragorn started as I got on the bed and pulled him with me.

“Shh.”  I soothed forestalling any further speech.  “I am yours tonight.  Do 
not explain.  Do not ask.  I want it this way.  Just be yourself.”  Every 
instinct I possessed was crooning that I was going to enjoy this assignment 
very much indeed.  It was such a rare thing that the path of duty led to my 
own pleasure.  I intended to savor this.

Aragorn was thoughtful for only a moment before he decided.  Then his 
weight against my chest bore me down and I lay back with the man 
pressing kisses to my face and neck.  His hands seemed to be everywhere 
at once as he kissed me thoroughly.  His passion burned slowly but with 
inexorable force, growing ever stronger as it fed on itself.  I found myself 
moaning helplessly as I was slowly consumed by my human lover’s heat 
and fervor.

My open mouth dragged desperately across Aragorn’s bearded cheek, 
closed around his jaw then opened again and dragged downward once 
more.  The pulse in my groin had become a fierce throb.  Writhing beneath 
the man I encountered his own rigid and swollen erection.  Frantically I 
bucked and contorted struggling to attain so much friction against the man 
that one might have thought I wanted to start a fire in earnest.

Above me Aragorn stopped kissing me, his eyes squeezed shut and his 
hands closed into fists.  A harsh groan clawed its way out of his throat.  
Taking advantage of the freedom caused by my human lover’s distraction 
I moved with even greater urgency rubbing against him.  Strangling 
another groan Aragorn brought his hands down firmly on my hips, stilling 
them.  I had to gulp down several ragged breaths to keep from sobbing in 
frustration.

Aragorn kissed me for several minutes more while keeping my hips 
mercilessly pinned to the mattress.  The pace of the kisses gradually 
diminished until the man finally stopped and raised himself upright. 
Placing one more kiss on my forehead Aragorn reached for the wineskin 
and took several long swallows.

“Thirsty?”  He asked gently caressing my chest and belly with his free 
hand.  

I nodded vigorously.  My mouth had gone very dry with desire and I had 
been licking away the salt sweat that had gathered on my human lover’s 
face and neck.  Aragorn handed me the wineskin as I sat up.  As the 
honeyed liquid coursed down my throat the man bent his head and took 
my nipple into his mouth.  I moaned against the flow of the mead and a 
line of the reddish brown drink dripped down my chin.

Hurriedly I put aside the wineskin and lay back dragging Aragorn down 
with me.  Smiling the man swiped his tongue across my chin collecting the 
trickle of mead.  Then he returned to my nipple tugging it gently between 
his teeth and sucking at it.  I tangled my fingers in his hair and tried not 
pull him against me with too much force.  When he had turned my first 
nipple into a tingling bud of rock hard nerves he turned to the other giving 
it the same treatment.

Then my lover sat up once more taking hold of my wrists to keep me from 
preventing him from leaving.  He reached for the wineskin again but did 
not drink.  Instead he poured a little across my belly, watching it pool in 
my naval with hungry eyes.  He lapped at the mead like a cat and I had to 
squeeze my eyes shut and grab fistfuls of the bedclothes to keep from 
thrashing about on the bed.  

Aragorn poured more mead, this time spilling it lower so that the cool 
liquid splashed against my burning erection.  I whimpered piteously at the 
sensation.  The next thing to cross my awareness was my human lover’s 
fist as it closed over me. Aragorn tugged once.  I could feel every callous 
on his hand and it was terrible that he stopped after one brief touch.

Then the man was scooping my knees up until my thighs rested against 
my stomach.  I held my legs in place while Aragorn spilled more mead 
between my buttocks.  Then the man stretched his hand up to my mouth 
and I drew his fingers in leaving little teeth marks around his second and 
third knuckles in my enthusiasm.  Aragorn’s fingers thrust in and out of 
my mouth while I tried to hold them in with heat and suction.  My human 
lover obviously approved for his other hand squeezed my hip ardently.

Finally, he withdrew his now slick fingers from my mouth and pushed 
slowly between  my buttocks.  I closed my eyes to better experience the 
sensation as the nerves around my entrance began to sizzle.  Another 
finger entered me with little difficulty, my body adjusting naturally around 
them.  My human lover stroked my insides exploring the tight heat and 
pushing deeper.  The third finger, wetted I guessed, by more wine started 
me purring softly.

His fingers worked me, stretching, curling, twisting.  I was becoming 
increasingly eager for what came next.  I was more than ready and to 
demonstrate my impatience I started rocking against the man’s fingers.  
Then, suddenly, I was empty Aragorn moved forward kissing me, pressing 
my legs even harder into my stomach by his weight.  Then before I could 
even kiss back the man was gone again. I heard the splash of mead being 
poured and then I felt a little nudge.   In the next instant Aragorn had 
thrust his rock hard shaft all the way into me.  If I had been a man I would 
have been in agony.  Even as I was I felt too small to contain him without 
bursting apart.  Even as I lay there, however, unconsciously holding my 
breath, my body began adjusting to accommodate him.  Aragorn remained 
perfectly still, waiting.

In a moment or two I remembered to breathe.  The alarm signals shooting 
up and down my nerves ebbed and I was able to begin to appreciate what I 
was feeling.  Experimentally I shifted my hips.  Oh, that was good, so very 
good.  Understanding that I had recovered from the initial shock Aragorn 
began to move in slow even strokes.  Oh.  And that was better!  Changing 
his angle a little and pushing my feet over my head the man delved in 
search of the pleasure center buried deep within me.  When he found it my 
vision went blurry as lightening seemed to strike out form my middle 
leaving my balls tight and my head dizzy.

All my focus narrowed to the man inside me.  Nothing else registered.  I 
was immersed in the rhythm of his thrusts.  Every once in a while he 
would aim for my pleasure center again but not too often.  He set an easy 
pace, making it clear that this could last all night and I gave myself up to it 
completely.  I rocked my hips to meet the man’s thrusts gently, wanting it 
to last forever.

I had lost track of time.  Had it been hours?  Days?  I could almost believe 
that for I was in a place where time was different.  The only way to tell 
one moment from the one before was the slow but steady increase in 
pressure.  It was one small step closer to climax.  Aragorn could feel it too, 
I was certain, for he had increased the number of times he aimed for my 
pleasure spot.  When the man reached for the tender and aching flesh of 
my erection I knew it was close.  It took only a few quick strokes and then 
my body simply took off.  Somewhere in the distance I heard Aragorn cry 
out but I was far away from all that soaring to the land of the gods. 

I was still twitching a little when I returned to my physical form.  No 
longer folded in half I could see the sweat glistening all over me.  Aragorn 
lay beside me breathing hard, our shoulders just touching.  I had only the 
foggiest memory of him pulling out of me and then collapsing onto his 
back.  A puddle of my seed cooled on my belly and rather feebly I reached 
for a corner of the sheet to wipe it away.  I really had to do this more 
often; I decided, I felt so wonderful.  It was not that I lacked for 
opportunities but somehow I just hadn’t been particularly in the mood 
recently.  More fool me, I suppose.

After a few more moments spent recuperating I turned toward my human 
lover.  “My gods, man.”  I said with genuine appreciation as well as the 
knowledge that a little flattery never came amiss.  “I had heard rumors that 
Isildur’s heir was skilled with his sword but one must experience it for 
oneself to really appreciate the truth of that.”

“You talk like that, lovely elf, and I shall become unbearably conceited.”  
Aragorn replied between heavy breaths.  His tone was somewhat light but 
I could tell my comment had embarrassed him a little.  For some reason 
his embarrassment further endeared him to me.

“Besides, Haldir, you have a great deal of skill yourself.”  The man added 
turning his head a little to kiss my shoulder.

We lay contentedly together recovering our strength.  After a time 
Aragorn reached to the floor and retrieved the blanket.  He covered 
himself with half of it.  He was cold again, how enchanting.  Now covered 
himself, he held up the second half of the quilt and gave me a questioning 
look.  I nodded placidly and the man draped the rest of the blanket over 
me.  “You look amused, Haldir.”  Aragorn commented lying down and 
adjusting his pillow.

“I am rather” I replied.  “I expected something quite different tonight.”

“Oh?”  The ranger asked sounding fond and a little curious.

“Absolutely, I thought you would want to slap me around a little.”  I 
answered truthfully but with a trace of a grin.  I felt very relaxed.

“Do I impress you as a particularly violent person, Haldir?”  Aragorn 
asked.  There was concern in his voice as he turned on his side to look at 
me.

“No.  But that was why I thought you might fancy something violent.  All 
that dependability, steadfast responsibility and gentle vigilance has to take 
a toll.  If you are going to let your companions use you to exorcize their 
demons it’s only fair you have the opportunity to let your own demons 
have a bit of fun.  A person can only take so many demands without 
needing to make a few demands in his turn.”  I said reasonably.  Then 
after a moment I continued.  “I meant what I said before.  I am yours 
tonight.  I would have allowed you to strike me, Aragorn.”

The man’s eyes widened at that.  “I would not have thought that was 
something you were inclined to permit.”

I laughed softly.  “Don’t you know that what a person permits in his bed 
with a willing partner has nothing to do with what he permits in the world 
outside his chamber.  I would have enjoyed playing a game of ‘enraged 
human and helpless elf’ with you.  But”  I continued my voice becoming 
serious, “come the dawn woe betide any who would raise a hand to Haldir, 
March Warden and Guardian of the Golden Wood.”  I didn’t want the man 
getting any sort of idea that I could be taken advantage of.

“I can see the distinction.  Even so, I would not play such a game.  At 
least. . . I would not without a very thorough discussion of the rules.”  The 
man said sighing deeply as his body reminded him that it was exhausted.

“Well, like as not that is a wise course.  I, myself, am not one to be so 
cautious.  Now that you mention it, however, I can see that such a 
discussion could be fun, too.”  I chuckled softly, reaching for then 
squeezing the man’s hand.

A little later I rose from the bed.  It was nearly morning and I had not 
checked the patrol in more than a day but more importantly I had to think 
what I would say in my report to Galadriel.  Naturally, I would be honest 
with my lady but that didn’t mean I couldn’t save a little of her time by 
omitting some minor, trivial fact now and then  When I saw her, however, 
I had to have my story in perfect order or she would worry even the 
smallest, most unimportant detail out of me.

“Haldir.”  Came Aragorn’s voice thick with sleep.  I had thought the man 
dead to the world but he must either sleep very lightly or only have been 
drowsing.

“Yes.”  I asked looking around for a clean pair of leggings.

“If you have no pressing business I would like you to stay a while.”

“Well, it takes all sorts, doesn’t it.”  I said gaily, pleased more than I 
would have been able to guess.  “But, I suppose I did promise.”  I 
continued, heaving a mock sigh and climbing back under the quilt.

“Mine for the night.”  The man confirmed sleepily.

“Yours for the night.”  I agreed.  The next moment I was asleep.
*
When I woke the sun had already been several hours in the sky.  I was a 
bit irritated for I had not intended to sleep at all.  I got up and dressed 
quickly.  This time Aragorn did not so much as stir as I prepared for the 
day.  When I was ready to depart I looked at the man a moment.  I was 
struck with the sudden impulse to deliver some parting touch.  I restrained 
myself, though.  It was better not to risk waking him.  I’m sure he needed 
his sleep.

I took the reports of the various patrol captains with a little more 
brusqueness than was my wont.  I knew Galadriel wanted to hear from me 
and it was never wise to keep the lady of the Golden Wood waiting.  As 
usual there was nothing out of the ordinary in the vicinity of Lorien.  My 
lady had long since put a stop to longer forays into our surroundings on 
the grounds that nothing so far away could threaten her kingdom.  As soon 
as it was clear all my captains had to discuss was the unexpectedly late 
migration of the seren bird I dismissed them and prepared for my 
audience.

Entering the small clearing Galadriel used as a throne room I bowed 
before my lady.  At her gracious nod I recited a fairly accurate account of 
the events of the last few days as they pertained to Lady Arwen’s 
betrothed.  My only aberration from an entirely complete report was that I 
chose to gloss over the bits of our conversation where Aragorn and I 
specifically spoke of my lady.  It would do Galadriel no harm to remain 
ignorant of our exact words and more to the point it would do me no harm.

“Do you believe the man trusts you?”  My queen asked when I had 
finished.

“I believe he trusts me, gentle mistress mine, to the extent I am worthy of 
it.”  Galadriel frowned at my evasiveness but I had no more descriptive 
answer to give her.

“And he said nothing, did nothing that could be of use to me?”  The lady 
asked abandoning the question of trust for the time being.

“I would be better able to answer that if I knew your purposes.”  I said 
softly.

“Knowledge, Haldir. My purpose is to gain knowledge, knowledge of the 
man whose ancestor’s blood lust still reeks havoc, knowledge of the man 
my daughter’s husband took into her home, knowledge of the man who 
would woo my daughter’s daughter from her people, knowledge of the 
man who seeks to hold sway over middle-earth when we have passed, 
knowledge of his every word and deed, his very thought.  I want to know 
every last stirring of the man’s heart.  Is that not a noble purpose, March 
Warden?” My lady demanded as I bowed to the very ground.  During the 
course of her speech my lady had seemed to grow tall and terrible, lit from 
within by a beautiful but searing light.  All the color drained from my 
vision and the earth itself seemed to rumble in accompaniment to her 
voice.  Her power was unanswerable.

Seeing my submission Galadriel continued in her more accustomed tone: 
“You had opportunity, Haldir, to watch the man at close quarters   All 
males, but men most particularly, are unguarded and overconfident during 
love play.  Tell me of that.  Did you learn anything, then, that I should be 
made aware of?”

“You need not worry for my lady Arwen on that score, madam.  She will 
have no cause to regret her choice on those grounds.  There were moments 
when I would have been willing to surrender my own immortality.  The 
man is quite competent.”  I answered a bit blithely for I was a little 
irritated that my lady had used her power in such an utterly unnecessary 
display of intimidation.  I was, after all, her loyal adherent and I already 
knew her strength.  She had nothing to prove to me.

“You would speak of my daughter’s daughter and of my own pain with 
such irreverence.”  In retrospect, there were probably warnings, something 
in Galadriel’s tone or something in her eyes.  My lady was not always in 
the mood for banter and she was always touchy about her family even at 
the best of times.  Usually I had a good sense of what she would and 
would not tolerate.  Perhaps I even saw the signs and knew, on some level, 
that I should not push but for reasons I only dimly understood I pushed 
anyway.  Thus, I must bear some portion of responsibility for what 
happened next.

“I had no intention of being disrespectful, my lady.  I was simply trying to 
point out a potential bright side.”  A second after the last word left my 
mouth I felt a stinging pain on the right side of my face.  It took me a 
moment to realize that Galadriel had slapped me, backhanded across the 
face.  I could only stand there stunned, shocked to my very core.  

Soon, though, I recovered myself enough to let my back straighten and my 
shoulders drop until I was in an attitude of formal attention.  I did not 
touch my cheek, though I could feel the unnatural heat of it radiating like a 
bonfire.  There was something wet wending its way down my face and for 
a horrified moment I thought it might be a tear but my eyes were scratchy 
and dry, almost painfully dry as if the heat of my face had burned away all 
the moisture.  I darted a quick glance at my lady’s hand then and I realized 
that the wetness was blood.  Her ring must have cut me.  Galadriel also 
looked at her hand after seeing the blood on my face.  She looked 
confused for just the briefest of moments but then she was herself again, 
regal and aloof.  She sought my eyes and I met her gaze.  I let nothing 
show in my eyes neither anger nor sorrow, neither reproach nor regret.

“You have done very well, Haldir.  You have become close to the man in 
a short time and you have told me much that I did not know.”  I listened to 
my lady’s praise with the appearance of polite attention as I waited for her 
next orders.  “The fellowship will leave here the day after tomorrow.  
They will travel by boat, down the Anduin.  I would like you to follow 
them and continue your observation of the man.”

“Shall I travel with them?”  My voice sounded strange in my ears as 
though it came from someone else.

“No, in fact, I don’t want you to interfere in any way with their journey.  I 
don’t want them to know you are there.  Thus, I would prefer if you were 
to travel on foot.  The current is unpredictable and there is a chance 
Legolas would detect you.  Leave now so that you can get ahead of them.   
Travel along the river wherever possible.  You know the country.  You 
know where they will be most likely to camp.  You will also be able to 
travel at night so with luck you will be able to keep up with them.”

I processed these instructions silently.  Yes, I probably would be able to 
track them if I had a head start and if I ran through the night.  What I 
didn’t understand was why.  Surely, it would be better if I traveled with 
them openly.  I could observe the man more easily and I might actually 
improve the odds of the ring quest succeeding.  ‘Perhaps’ I thought 
grimly, ‘my lady does not trust me too near to such power.’  Then there 
was Aragorn himself.  Should some excuse be made for my abrupt 
departure?  Would he find it curious or even insulting if I did not give him 
some parting word?  It might be that Galadriel assumed the man would 
just suppose that it was natural for elves to come and go on a whim.  
Ordinarily I would have just blurted out my question but right now I 
wasn’t sure I wanted to speak to my lady at all.

“Do you think you will be able to do this, Haldir?”

“Yes, my lady, although, I will not be able to observe much while the 
fellowship is on the river.”  I answered stonily.  The blood no longer 
oozed down my cheek now and I could feel the flesh around the small cut 
knitting together.  I heard my own smug words spoken to Aragorn the 
night before repeat mockingly in my head.  This had never happened 
before and, in truth, I didn’t know what to do or if I should do anything at 
all.

“That’s all right.  They will not be on the river too long.”  Something 
about the lady’s tone made me think that this was more than simple 
supposition on her part.  My guess was confirmed by Galadriel’s next 
words.  “I would not send you passed the Black Gate into the Dark Lord’s 
domain, Haldir.  My mirror has shown me: the man will not go to 
Mordor.”

“Will he take the ring?”  I asked a bit incredulously.  Anything was 
possible but I had trouble believing that Aragorn would do such a thing.  

“I don’t know.”  Galadriel replied unhappily.  “The mirror does not tell me 
why the man abandons the quest.  If he does take the ring of power or if 
another in the fellowship takes it then I want to know immediately but 
whatever transpires you are my eyes and ears.  Eventually, I want to use 
the relationship you have established with the man to watch him at less of 
a distance but for now I don’t want him to know my eyes are upon him.”

“As you wish, my lady.”

“I have had Rumil prepare your provisions.  He is waiting by the southern 
checkpoint.  In your absence who would you have command the guard?”  
Galadriel asked, though she clearly anticipated my choice by having my 
brother ready to speak with me.

“Rumil is quite capable.”  I replied.

“Excellent, you can give him whatever orders you deem necessary when 
you collect your supplies.”  My lady said in a businesslike voice.  Taking 
this as a dismissal I bowed but before I could take my leave Galadriel 
called me back.

I waited patiently as my queen took a handkerchief from her sleeve and 
dipped into a glass of water.  Approaching me, my lady dabbed my cheek 
with the wet cloth.  I could tell the blood vessels were no longer dilated.  
The swelling had gone down.  Even that awful burning heat had 
diminished.  If there had been a bruise it was almost certainly gone by 
now and Galadriel was cleaning up the last physical indication that she 
had struck me.  When all the dried blood had been wiped away, my lady 
took a step backward and looked me over.  

“There is no longer any marking.”  She told me quietly but she was wrong.  
I could still feel her hand against my cheek and I knew I would see the 
marking for a long time to come.  Bowing again I turned to go and this 
time my lady did not call me back.
*
I found Rumil sitting on the bank of the Anduin watching the fish move 
like quicksilver through the clear water.  He had taken off his shoes and 
rolled up his legging passed the knee to dangle his feet in the mighty river.  
He hummed softly to himself.  Beside him was a light pack filled, no 
doubt, with provisions for my journey.  Using all my stealth I crept 
forward until I was right beside my brother.  

“Well, this is a pretty sight!”  I called out.

“Haldir!”  Rumil cried clambering gracefully- if one could clamber 
gracefully- to his feet.

“I shall return to find orcs in my bed if this is the sort of vigilance over our 
borders that may be expected in my absence.”  I chastised.

“I have been found out.  And I already have plans to show your talan to a 
very nice orc family this very afternoon.  Now what shall I tell them?  
They will be so disappointed.”  Rumil answered in imitation of my own 
insouciance.

“Well, little brother, cut me into the profits and I might be persuaded to 
overlook a small orcish presence.”

Rumil laughed and clapped my shoulder affectionately.  “Have you any 
orders for me, my captain?”  In spite of his attempt to appear cool I could 
tell Rumil was excited.  He had so few opportunities that even taking over 
my drudge work seemed to him an exciting adventure.  Suddenly, I felt 
quite sad.  My brother had a great deal of potential.

“Haldir?”  The sound of my name brought me back to myself and I 
smiled.

“Any orders?”  I repeated collecting my thoughts.  “Let’s see: there is 
nothing you don’t already know.  Keep the badgers away from our arrow 
caches.  Remember there is no such thing as a lone orc.  If you spot one do 
not rest until you have caught and killed the entire group.  Be ever mindful 
of your surroundings.  If there is trouble the forest will know it first, so 
listen.  Also, discourage Drienne from going on patrol.  If he insists then 
pair him with someone responsible.  In his mind Drienne is halfway to 
Valinor.  He is liable to get distracted and just wander off if you are not 
careful.”  I concluded, certain that Rumil would be able to handle anything 
that came up.

“Are you quite all right, my dear?  You don’t seem entirely yourself.”  
Rumil said studying me with a concerned expression.

“I am fine.  Best worry about yourself, little one, and the awesome 
responsibility of living up to the nigh impossible standard set by your 
perfect older brother.”  I told him, touched by his concern.

“Well then, perfect older brother, I wish you a successful journey for 
everything here is well in hand.”  Rumil laughed.  We embraced a 
moment.  Then I took up the pack he had prepared for me and headed 
south east along the river.
*
After I had gone a few miles I stopped to test the strength of the current.  
Keeping track of the fellowship while they were on the river would be 
difficult.  First off, I did not know how often they would stop.  Also the 
fellowship could choose to abandon the river at any place they stopped.  
From what my lady had said I supposed the fellowship were going to 
change their plans without warning, most likely in response to some 
sudden crisis.  The sooner my quarry left the river the easier it would be 
for me to follow them but until then if I tried to keep them in sight I would 
soon be out distanced.  I guessed that they would stop for meals at the 
hobbits’ insistence and occasional scouting expeditions.  This was good 
because it would slow their progress making it easier for me to keep up.  

There were not really that many places where an inexperienced person 
would be able to land the boats.  Steep, rocky banks bordered the river as 
did sucking mud and dangerous tangle vines.  I would not have to comb 
the entire river bank if I lost them but I could not run along the bank for 
the entire journey.  I did not know when the fellowship would leave the 
river but my strategy was going to be to pick out the most likely place they 
would camp wait until they came into view and then move as fast as I 
could to the next place they would be likely to come ashore.  When the 
fellowship did not show up where I expected I would have to go back and 
find the place where they had left the river and then follow overland.  So 
much depended on the accuracy of my guesses and the amount of time it 
would take me to discover when they abandoned the river.

I reveled in the challenge.  I was determined to shadow my assigned target 
even if I had to run for a week straight.  I would outrun the river if I had to 
and then I would track them across the shale and slag of Mordor itself.  Of 
course, my lady had said that that would not be necessary.  I was almost 
disappointed.  I did not care to express an opinion upon the idea that 
spying on Aragorn would be of much benefit to Arwen or Galadriel but 
even so I felt that I was doing something important, something that would 
take skill and diligence but would ultimately make a great deal of 
difference for the good.

Despite my confidence, it was with great relief that on my third day out I 
saw, from my vantage point atop a small hill, three boats come ashore just 
where I had predicted.  I had arrived several hours earlier and I had eaten 
and rested as much as my nervous excitement would permit.  The 
fellowship arrived later than I expected and I had been on the point of 
retracing my steps when I finally saw them.  Grinning with satisfaction I 
waited until the group had laid out their bedrolls.  Then I started off again.  
If I ran through the night I could catch sight of them around noon and 
hopefully gain a bit of ground while they ate.

I did catch a glimpse of them around the hobbits’ midday feeding but they 
were already in the midst of their meal when I saw them.  They had made 
better time than yesterday, perhaps becoming better able to navigate their 
boats.  Giving their picnic site a wide berth, for I did not see Legolas or 
Boromir and they could have been lurking anywhere nearby, I continued 
running.  Already they were outdistancing me.  Sighing I increased my 
speed.

It was early evening and I had slowed down considerably.  Something felt 
wrong and whatever it was I did not want to dash into it all unawares.  The 
forest was too quiet.  It should have been full of birdsong and the chitter of 
small animals.  Instead there was utter silence.  Even the trees were quiet.  
I slowed to a walk.  I did not like this at all.  I was close to the place where 
I had guessed the fellowship would stop for the night.  I would check it 
quickly and if they were not there I would leave this place as quickly as I 
could.  Then I heard it.  The sound of a horn rang out clearly through the 
forest.  Without pausing I started to run in the direction of the sound 
unslinging my bow as I went.

I had not gone far when I started to hear the clash and cry of battle.  From 
the sound of it there seemed to be several skirmishes going on at once.  I 
couldn’t guess how the enemy’s forces managed to split the fellowship.  
Surely, the group knew better than to separate and go traipsing about on 
their own.  Even Aragorn’s little darling, the all-favored ringbearer would 
be in for a severe talking to if he were responsible for this.  I hesitated a 
moment drawn to the sound of several altercations.  In the end, however, I 
remained fixed on the call of the horn, presuming that I would find the 
greatest need there.

Finally, I emerged from the thick trees into a clearing.   I took in Boromir 
surrounded by orcs fighting fiercely enough for an army.  Merry and 
Pippin stood near him struggling valiantly.  I was a little surprised for the 
orcs around the hobbits did not appear to be trying to kill their small 
quarry.  Saruman must have told his minions to bring back any hobbits 
alive rather than simply killing them and stripping their bodies.  Now that 
was a sad commentary: If a half-mad traitor Istari could not trust his own 
demon-spawned slaves then what was middle-earth coming to.

I took all this in at a glance and then something unexpected caught and 
held my attention.  A monster, perhaps twice the size of the largest orc 
watched the man and hobbits struggle with cold and cruel intelligence.  
His ugliness was enough to shrivel the heart of even the bravest elf.  It was 
as though someone had gone out of his way to pour everything foul and 
obscene into one being.  Saruman had surpassed himself.  The corruption 
of nature in his form and substance left me faint for a moment.  

As I stared at the thing, wasting precious time as my senses recovered 
themselves, the monster raised and aimed a bow the size of a man.  With a 
creak that I knew instinctively was the same sound my spine would make 
the moment before it snapped the creature drew and fired.  The missile 
struck Boromir in the chest with all the force of shot from a catapult.  The 
hobbits screamed in pain and anger and struck at their foe with renewed 
viciousness.  The shrill, anguished cry of the little ones broke me from my 
trance.  The monster notched another arrow as I stood, still unnoticed, near 
the tree line.

With all the speed of a somewhat tardy champion of light I loosed my 
arrow before the creature fired a second shot.   I struck it in the hand and 
skewed its aim.  The result of my interference was that the second arrow 
went through Boromir’s arm rather than his heart.  The man hardly 
seemed to notice, though, as he poured all his focus into keeping his 
killing sword between the hobbits and the worst of the orc forces.  The 
monster snarled and dropped the bow.  Turning toward me he yanked my 
arrow from where it had lodged in his hand.  Usually I didn’t mind when 
my opponent turned out to be a showoff.  It just made them easier, and 
more fun, to defeat.  This time, however, I confess I was a little impressed.

I got off one more arrow before discarding my bow and drawing my 
knives.  I had aimed for the thing’s heart but whether my shot had been 
slowed by its armor or whether the atrocity rapidly approaching me simply 
lacked a heart to hit the arrow did not slow him.  The shaft protruded from 
his chest and he pulled it out with a bit of a flourish as he advanced the tip 
black with blood. 

Closing the distance between us the thing slashed downward in a blow 
intended to cleave my head in two.  I halted the descending stroke with the 
crossed hilts of my knives.  Even so, I was staggered.  Ultimately, this 
worked in my favor, however, since the monster used its free hand to 
punch me in the side.  If I had been firmly balanced it probably would 
have shattered my ribs but as I was already unsteady I fell sideways 
instead of having to fully absorb the blow.

Only a second after I hit the ground the monster was after me skewering 
the forest floor where I had just been.  Frantically I rolled away.  I had no 
time to regain my feet I simply kept rolling until the behemoth accidently 
struck his weapon into a log.  While it pulled its sword free I took up a 
fighting stance, slashing quickly at the monster while it still worked to free 
its weapon.  The thing barely noticed the cut I made across its shoulder as 
its sword came loose.

All my concentration was upon the creature before me but occasionally 
some other sound from the battle would penetrate my consciousness.  
Somehow Boromir was still fighting.  I heard his labored breathing and 
cries of attack.  I no longer heard Merry and Pippin but it seemed to me 
that their cries had faded as with distance.  I could not have said whether 
they had been killed or carried off.  I could not even have said which fate 
would have been better for the little ones.

I had no luxury for musing, however.  The creature was stalking me once 
more.  I ducked and dodged, evading its blade by increasingly narrow 
margins.  I was becoming increasingly frustrated with my seeming 
inability to hurt the monster. It was just playing with me, I realized leaping 
backward just ahead of a slash that would have opened my belly.  I 
determined that I would not let the creature bring me down without getting 
in at least one good hit.  The next time it struck at my side I turned away 
bringing both my knives up to slash at the creatures unprotected side and I 
was caught.  As I turned I felt the skin of my back and shoulder separate.   
Quickly deciding discretion was the better part of valor I abandoned my il-
advised attempt at offense.  I danced away again escaping with a long but 
hopefully shallow slash.

So much of my focus was on the monster that I did not see the orc until it 
was almost too late.  Creeping up behind me the craven beast slashed at 
my hamstring but I was able to bury my knife in its throat before it could 
strike home.  The distraction was enough for my more formidable foe, 
however. The end of the monster orc’s weapon was hurtling toward my 
chest and though I saw it I knew there would be no time to turn it aside.  

Miraculously though, the blow was deflected from its target, but not by 
me.  Boromir, inexplicably still on his feet despite an arrow in his chest 
and another through his arm, brought his sword down upon the monster’s 
so that both blades struck the dirt.  The creature howled with rage and 
something else, excitement perhaps.  Apparently the over-sized orc 
thought two opponents came closer to approaching a genuine challenge.  I 
would have given a hundred years of my life to see that smug dung heap 
trip over its spiked boots- only I doubted I had a hundred years left to give.

There were not many orcs left alive but those that were tried to circle us.  
They attacked with feints and did their best to divert us from the monster.  
The monster itself smiled and took a step back, sizing up its hoped-for kill 
with bestial glee.  I tried to catch Boromir’s eye but I don’t think he even 
recognized me.  He must have opposed the monster just at that time from 
pure protective instinct, maybe in his pain hazed mind he even believed 
me to be his companion Legolas.  The man did not have enough left in 
him to try a coordinated attack.

Cocking his head back arrogantly the monster orc snarled and threw his 
fist at Boromir’s face.  The man made an effort to step aside but his feet 
must have grown heavy and leaden with the ever increasing effort of battle 
for he stumbled.  The creature struck him hard at his temple and Boromir 
crumpled.  Snorting with satisfaction the thing raised its sword-arm for the 
killing stroke

I suppose I had already made the decision not to run.  I might have 
escaped even now; it was possible but without fully realizing it I had 
decided to commit myself entirely to this battle.  From there it was a small 
step to decide not to let my momentary comrade-in-arms be cut down in 
front of me while I strategized.  I flew at the monster’s arm.  The thing 
made a gurgling rumble which I realized was laughter.  Seizing a fistful of 
my hair the foul creature pulled me off and then it lifted me at least a foot 
off the ground bringing us face to face.  

“Wait your turn, elf.”  The large orc breathed at me.  Gods, the thing was 
disgusting.

“But I want you now.”  I answered smiling passed the bile rising in my 
throat.  Shifting as I hung in the air I aimed a kick at the beast’s groin.

Alerted by my movement as I dangled from his grip the monster caught 
the direction of my attack and twisted his hips to the side.  It was funny 
seeing the mighty orc monster mince away and I laughed even as my kick 
struck the thing in the thigh.

Howling with rage- and for all I knew indignation at my dirty tactics- the 
large orc shook me violently.  Then it simply threw me aside.  I sailed 
several feet before landing hard on my back.  My head bounced 
sickeningly against the ground and I lay still while the world spun around 
me.  I had no doubt the creature was going to use all of its undersized 
brain to plan a particularly nasty death for me.  Well, I couldn’t say I 
hadn’t been warned, just about everyone I had ever met had predicted that 
a slow death by torture would be my fortune.  Although, some spoke more 
in the way of hope than of prophecy.

From where I lay I could see Boromir still kneeling where he had fallen.  I 
did not particularly want to watch the man die but I found I had very little 
control of my body.  I could not seem to turn my head or even close my 
eyes.  Resigned, I watched as the blond man swayed a little on his knees 
waiting for death.  The monster was about to oblige when it was struck 
from the side.  I was not a particularly pious elf, but nevertheless 
lightening from the Valar occurred to me as a distinct possibility.  Then I 
saw him clearly.  Aragorn had finally arrived.
*


*
A fierce battle ensued but a veil seemed to have fallen over my 
perceptions.  My senses remained clear but somewhat distanced.  The man 
and monster fought.  Inexplicably, the final result seemed inevitable to me.  
No other outcome was possible.  When Aragorn struck off the monster’s 
head, a small sigh escaped me.  It was as though my body recognized the 
end of an often heard and beloved story.

Aragorn looked about him.  He stood alone, his sword in his hand.  There 
were none left to give him challenge.  The few orcs that had stood with the 
monster had disappeared.  There was so much death all around.   The man 
surveyed the carnage with extreme anxiety, his gaze raked over the bodies 
searching for friends.  He saw me first and ran quickly to my side.  

“Haldir!”  The voice was surprised but perhaps not all that surprised.  As 
the man knelt beside me he caught sight of Boromir who lay against a 
great tree trunk.  A tremor ran through Aragorn at the sight of his liege-
man and there was grief in his eyes. 

Collecting himself Aragorn returned his attention to me.  Urgently the man 
ran his hands over me, searching for injuries.  The search was quick- 
almost hasty- but efficient.  Determining that my wounds while bad 
enough were not fatal the examination ceased.  Aragorn was obviously 
desperate to attend to Boromir but he did not rise immediately.  Instead he 
placed one hand on my forehead and the other on my chest.  There was no 
more urgency in his touch.  It was no more than a second or two but a 
wave of calm and peace washed over me.  Everything was all right.  In the 
next moment Aragorn had gone to see to Boromir.

Boromir’s eyes had closed and one might have supposed he was dead but 
as Aragorn’s shadow fell upon the blond man his eyes flickered open.  
“The ring, I tried to take the ring from Frodo.  Is he dead?”  he murmured 
in anguish.

“Frodo will go on to complete the quest.  I saw him.  I let him go.”  
Aragorn answered sounding a little distracted as he assessed the blond 
man’s condition.

“You did it, then.  You are stronger than I.  Oh gods, why didn’t I let 
myself see that?  I was so blind.  I could not see passed myself and my 
own desires.  Now I have let them take little Merry and Pippin.”  Guilt and 
remorse permeated Boromir’s voice as he struggled over his words.  
“They took them, lord.  I could not stop them.”

“We will find them, Boromir, but first you must be quiet and conserve 
your strength.”  Aragorn soothed as he cut away the cloth around the 
arrow in Boromir’s chest.

“What strength?”  The blond warrior barked a laugh which quickly turned 
into a cough.  “I have failed my people.  I have failed the quest.  I have 
failed you.  I deserve to die.  What would my father say of me now?”  The 
last was a cry ripped from the man’s heart.

“You have not failed Boromir nor do you deserve death.  We will save our 
people.  Hold on, Steward’s son, hold on.”  Aragorn’s admonishments 
were growing increasingly desperate as he worked the man free of his 
clothes and felt around his wounds.

“Our people?  Say you truth, my king?  You will protect the White City?  
Swear it!  I beg you, swear.”  Boromir had become so agitated that 
Aragorn had to leave off attending to his wounds and press the man’s 
shoulders down.

“I swear I will devote all the strength within me to Gondor and our 
people.”  Aragorn answered solemnly.   Then he pushed Boromir’s 
shoulders down with greater firmness.  “Now, lay you still.”  This was 
unquestionably a command and Boromir sighed while all the tension 
drained from his body.

“Aye, my lord.  Where you lead there shall I follow.”  Boromir murmured 
slipping into unconsciousness.  The ranger intensified his efforts, easing 
the blond man all the way down to the ground.  Then he went to his pack 
searching for medicines.

“Aragorn!”  The dwarf’s voice sounded through the forest.

“Here!”  

There was the sound of approaching footsteps  When they were close 
Aragorn called out without looking up from his pack.  “Legolas, Gimli, 
look to Haldir.  Then put a kettle to boil as soon a may be.”

“Haldir?”  The dwarf asked panting slightly as he came upon Aragorn 
frantically mixing several of his herbs for Boromir.  Then Gimli saw me 
and blinked in confusion.  Legolas who was by his friend’s side came over 
to me and began a somewhat less skilled but more thorough examination 
of my injuries.  

Obviously deciding his questions could wait the dwarf pulled himself 
together.  Gimli quickly built a fire and poured water from his canteen into 
a small cauldron.  Both elf and dwarf darted frequent looks at Aragorn and 
Boromir but neither said anything.  They kept their worry to themselves, 
understanding that when Aragorn needed something or had something to 
report he would speak.  When the water had started to simmer Gimli 
turned his attention to Legolas who had concluded his examination and 
was placing a folded cloak beneath my head.  “Is he dead?”  The dwarf 
whispered carefully, uncertain what to make of my stillness.

“No, he is in a healing trance.  By morning he will be healthier than you 
are now.”  Legolas said cleaning the blood off of me the best he could.

“The gods indeed love you.”  Gimli said not quite bitterly as he surveyed 
my battered form.  “Can he hear us?  I have the sense he is watching us.”

“I don’t know, probably.  It is different for each elf.  Some are utterly 
oblivious to their surroundings and remember nothing when they wake.  
Others can actually get up, move about, perform routine tasks.  Most of us, 
however, see and hear but are removed, aware of what is happening but 
caring little.”  Legolas explained and though he smoothed my hair back as 
he spoke his eyes were focused on the two men.

“Well, that shouldn’t be too dramatic an adjustment for Haldir.”  Gimli 
commented forcing himself to sit down beside Legolas rather than pace 
back and forth as his impatience demanded.  The elf gave his companion a 
mildly disapproving look.  Apparently the prince of Mirkwood was 
brought up in the school that taught it was all right to think something so 
long as one never said it.  “What do you suppose he is doing here?”  Gimli 
asked cracking his knuckles to dissipate some of his nervous energy.

Legolas shrugged.  “The lady must have sent him.”

“Ah, ‘tis well.  She likely had some fear for us and sent us what help she 
could.”  Gimli agreed, touched by Galadriel’s concern.  “She is indeed a 
great and good lady.”  Legolas had nothing to say to that and the two 
lapsed into a brief silence before the dwarf’s worry drove him to make 
further conversation.

“So after a battle do all injured elves just sort of flop over?”  Gimli asked 
giving me an appraising glance before returning his gaze to his 
companions.

“No.  Only serious injuries can induce a trance.  It is an automatic 
response but an elf has to feel safe before he succumbs.  Usually that 
doesn’t happen for hours but in this case Haldir hit his head.  For whatever 
reason that must have made him more susceptible.”  Legolas gave the 
dwarf a complete reply but it was obvious he did not really care to talk.  
Making an effort to respect his friend’s mood Gimli did not ask anything 
further.

“Gimli, Legolas, I need your help.”  Aragorn said finally breaking the 
silence.  

The elf and dwarf were at his side in an instant.  Aragorn’s body had 
blocked the view of what he was doing but as the man leaned back 
stretching his neck and back Boromir became visible.  The blond man’s 
head was bandaged where he had been struck.  There was evidence of 
some sticky substance adorning other of Boromir’s injuries but the biggest 
problems were the arrows.  Aragorn had cut the shaft of the arrow in the 
blond man’s chest so that it protruded only four or five inches.  All about 
the place where the arrow entered the man’s chest Aragorn had packed 
medicines.  

The other arrow protruded from out either side of Boromir’s upper arm.  
Aragorn had removed the hard metal tip from the one side and stripped the 
flethcing from the other.  He was now ready to remove the arrow and it 
was for that purpose that he had called his companions.  

“Hold him still.  I want to do this as quickly as possible.”  Aragorn 
ordered.  Faces grimly set the elf and dwarf took hold of their injured 
companion and braced themselves ready for him to struggle.

Jaw clenched Aragorn set the shaft of the arrow alight with a brand from 
the fire.  Then taking hold of the opposite side he pulled the burning shaft 
through Boromir’s arm.  The blond man had not finished his first scream 
when the ranger flung the arrow aside and started tying a bandage around 
his arm.  There was little blood and there would be little risk of infection 
thanks to the fire but Aragorn was awash with sweat from the effort of 
causing- even necessary- pain.  The blond man writhed and groaned in the 
arms of his friends for several moments.  Then exhaustion overtook him 
and he quieted.

Two anxious pairs of eyes sought the ranger as soon as Boromir stilled.  
“Will he be all right?”  Gimli asked, finally giving voice to the question.

“I don’t know.”  Aragorn answered scrubbing his hands down his face.  
“That arrow must come out of him soon but the arrow head has partially 
broken off.  I don’t have the medicines or the proper tools to go digging 
after it.  Even if I did it would take hours.  And then there is great risk he 
will die of the fever that even now is upon him.”

“Was the arrow poisoned?”  Legolas demanded sounding angry and 
helpless.

The ranger shook his head.  “Not intentionally, but the arrow had been 
used before and it was still foul with the death of its first victim.”

“What hope is there, then?”  Gimli cried.  “Every second we delay Sam 
and Frodo get further away.  And gods, what of the fate of Merry and 
Pippin?  What can we do?”

“I think we have no choice but to leave the quest in the hands of Frodo and 
Sam.  Even if we abandoned the others, set off after them now and caught 
up to them a time would come when. . .”  Aragorn paused for just a 
moment and checked to make sure the blond man slept so that he would 
infer no reproach in the ranger’s words.  “another and then another of us 
would fall to the ring’s lure.”

“Merry and Pippin have almost certainly been taken.”  Legolas said softly.  

“Yes, Boromir said as much.”  Aragron replied unhappily.  The elf did not 
quite have the courage to state the whole dilemma which was either: to 
stay, aid Boromir as best they might and look after me in my helplessness 
or to track and rescue Merry and Pippin from what could very well be a 
fate worse than death.  Elf and dwarf looked to the man, needing him to 
tell them what to do.

“Haldir’s injuries were not that severe.  I am going to try and rouse him.  
If he comes round he can take Boromir to Lothlorien while we find Merry 
and Pippin.”  Aragorn informed the beleaguered company.

“Can that be done?  I have never heard of a healing trance ever lasting less 
than 10 hours.”  Legolas put in concerned.

“I saw Elrond bring an elf out once.  I have never done it myself but there 
should be no danger to Haldir.  If I fail then he will wake by himself in the 
morning.”  Something in the ranger’s tone alerted Legolas and he leaned 
forward to put an inhibitory hand on Aragorn’s shoulder.

“No danger to Haldir you say, but what of yourself?  What risk is there for 
you?”  The elf spoke forcefully demanding a response.

“There is no danger to me.”

Even the dwarf heard it this time.  “Aragorn, what are you-” Gimli began 
but the ranger cut him off.

“I will try to wake him and if I cannot we will have a decision to make.”  
Aragorn answered firmly.  “Gimli will you bring the last of the hot water, 
please.”  The man continued effectively closing the subject.

“Aragorn,” Legolas started and the ranger turned to him ready to crush the 
elf with his eyes if he broached the topic of Aragorn coming to any harm 
in an attempt to revive me but this was not the prince’s idea.  “What if 
Haldir wakes but refuses to take Boromir back to Lorien?  What then?”

Gimli, who was not exactly sensitive to the nuances of what might be 
called the power politics of the elfin kingdoms, looked very much taken 
aback but Aragorn only sighed: “If Haldir refuses then the charge falls to 
you, my friend.  Even at the risk of further splitting the fellowship we 
cannot abandon either Boromir or Merry and Pippin but perhaps it won’t 
come to that.”  The prince looked as though he wanted to protest, perhaps 
with something along the lines of ‘it’s not fair’ but recollected himself in 
time and bowed his head in acknowledgment.

Aragorn crushed several leaves and dropped them in the remaining water. 
Then, he brought the mixture and knelt by my side.  The water smelled 
pungently of morning and the spring.  The man sought my eyes and held 
them with his own.  After dipping his fingers into the brew the ranger 
touched my temples and the pulse point of my throat.  Very gently the 
man pressed down on my chest varying the time and amount of pressure in 
a strangely arrhythmic pattern.  My body wanted to harmonize with 
Aragorn’s design but as soon as the pattern became predictable to me, the 
man changed it subtly.

“Haldir.”  Aragorn spoke in less than a whisper but I heard him.  My 
vision narrowed until all I could see were the man’s slate grey eyes boring 
into mine with unnatural clarity.  The aroma of the scented water filled my 
nostrils and the pressure of his hand on my chest seemed to crowd out any 
other feelings.

“Haldir.”  His voice was even softer but I heard it more clearly.  Aragorn 
was becoming almost blindingly vivid.  The pressure on my chest felt as 
though it was crushing me.  I wanted to struggle against it, to break free.  I 
needed to clear the now painfully sharp odor from my nose and to shield 
my eyes from the searing vision.  Then, suddenly, I was gasping, my eyes 
squeezing tightly shut.

“Haldir!  Are you all right?”  Legolas demanded coming to my side.  I 
struggled to sit up and the prince helped me.  I hurt.  I hurt a lot.  My ribs 
were making breathing difficult.  There was the awful prickling of a newly 
forming scab over my back and shoulder.  My scalp ached terribly and my 
head throbbed but I was myself again.

Looking around I saw everything as I had seen it before, only now the 
world seemed closer, more real.  I had my memories of all that had 
happened since Aragorn had appeared and killed the monster orc but it all 
seemed to have happened a long time ago.  The ranger was just as he had 
been, kneeling beside me.  Only now, I realized that his eyes were closed 
and he had not come to my aid when I had first struggled up.  Legolas had 
noticed Aragorn’s stillness now, too, and the prince looked ill.

“Aragorn?”  The elf asked panicked but there was no response.

Gulping down a few more breaths I reached out to the man, touching his 
face: “Hail, lord of the dawn.”  I managed a little raggedly.

There was a silence and then very quietly the man spoke: “Hello Haldir.”  
His eyes were still closed but a faint smile tugged at the corners of his 
mouth.  The dwarf exhaled audibly in relief and Legolas sagged against 
me.

Opening his eyes finally Aragorn stared off into space for only a moment 
before focusing once more on me.  “How do you feel?”  He inquired 
looking me over.

“I feel like someone dragged my poor, wounded self out of a peaceful 
healing trance for his own purposes.”  I responded, grimacing at the 
unfamiliar discomfort of my body.

“Well, it is clear that you are back in touch with reality.”  Aragorn said 
giving me another small smile.  “How much do you remember?”

“Enough to know what you expect from me.”  I answered facing the three 
companions.  They looked at me, Gimli anticipating my quick assent, 
Legolas convinced I would refuse and Aragorn inscrutable.  “Returning to 
Lorien now is not in accordance with my orders.”  I informed them 
keeping my head up with an effort.  Legolas turned away in disgust and 
Gimli looked shocked.

“This is more important than your orders.”  The man said calmly.  All very 
well for him to say.  He had never heard Galadriel’s lecture on priorities.  
Yet at the same time, I was not prepared to turn my back on the little 
group.  Even if I had the stomach to abandon Boromir and forfeit the 
respect of the man, dwarf and elf before me I did not know if- in my 
current condition- I could keep up with Aragorn and Gimli as they hunted 
for the hobbits.  Galadriel had told me to observe the man and not to 
interfere.  I had already failed and when I thought about it: Wasn’t 
Aragorn right?  Wasn’t trying to save a life more important than adding 
another speck of information to my lady’s hoard?

“All right.”  I conceded unhappily.  “But if upon your next visit to the 
Golden Wood you find that my lady has acquired a new Haldir skin rug 
then I hope you will feel very guilty.”

“Thank you, Haldir.  You are doing the right thing.”   Aragorn responded 
clasping my shoulder with affection.  I could not help but smile for he had 
said that so sincerely.

Having made the decision we wasted no further time.  Boromir was still 
unconscious as we all carried him as gently as possible to the shore 
Aragorn gave me instructions concerning the man’s care and feeding.  
When the blond man had been laid carefully in one of the boats the ranger 
took me a little aside.

“Boromir has suffered a great injury to his spirit as well as to his body.  
Look after him.  Do not let his mind drift too long in darkness.  Keep him 
mindful of his duty and of his value to his people.”

“Is that a command, lord king?  I agreed to see him safely to the healers in 
Lorien not to adopt him.”  I responded raising an eyebrow.

“I think you will find the rewards worth the effort.”  Aragorn told me 
quietly which wasn’t an answer to my question.  I was about to point that 
out when Gimli came up to report that Boromir was settled.

“Are you ready?”  The man asked.

“I shall need to put up a sail unless you expect me to row all the way to 
Lorien against the current.”  I said mindful of my still healing injuries.

“Will you need help?”  Aragorn asked leading the way back to the boat.

“No, I think I can put up a mast and sail on one of my own boats, thank 
you very much.”  I said churlishly.  I would go as quickly as I was able but 
I did not relish returning thus to Galadriel.

Aragorn only nodded without acknowledging my poor attitude for he was 
bent over Boronir.  The blond man was unconscious but the ranger 
whispered to him anyway then he kissed the blond man’s brow.  Rising to 
his feet the man turned to me.  “Haldir, I hope we shall meet agin until 
then I shall keep you in my thoughts.  Legolas, Gimli, we have a lot of 
ground to cover.”  With that the man turned east and loped away.

“Give my regards to my lady.”  Gimli told me hurriedly before following 
the man at a heavy jog.  Now only the prince of Mirkwood remained and 
that elf was giving me a very disconcerting look.  To avoid his stare I 
began work assembling the mast.  I expected the elf to turn and go at any 
moment but he didn’t.

“What?”  I finally demanded annoyed that I had allowed the scrutiny to 
bother me.

“I gave you fair warning.”  Legolas replied without changing his 
expression.

“I haven’t the faintest idea what you are alluding to.”  I answered 
haughtily.  If I didn’t know better I would swear the impudent pup was 
gloating.

“Of course you don’t.  You are just a naturally helpful and compliant elf 
who always does what he thinks is right no matter his lady’s instructions.”  
Now he really was laughing at me.

“Don’t you have some orcs to chase or did I just imagine that?”  I said 
tartly.

The merriment departed from Legolas’ expression and the solemnity 
returned.  “The Valar guard you on your path, Haldir.”  The elf said 
sincerely.

“Yes and don’t you stumble over a stone and tumble down any cliffs.  You 
run along after your hobbits, now and stop pestering me.”  I said shortly.  
Legolas had the poor manners to grin before raising his hand in a final 
farewell and following his companions.
*
Boromir remained unconscious throughout the evening.  When I launched 
the boat, however, he moaned at the unfamiliar motion of the water.  He 
cried out in his sleep all that night.  Sometimes he seemed to be speaking 
to Frodo alternating between bitter accusation and abject apology.  Other 
times he called desperately for Merry and Pippin, his father or for 
someone- probably a brother- called Faramir.  Only once did he speak 
Aragorn’s name but he pronounced it with such terrible need and longing 
that I had to spend a long time staring out over the moonlit river before I 
trusted myself to turn back to the suffering man.

The occasional fevered moans and anguished pleas from the warrior in my 
care was only a part of the misery of that night.  My various injuries made 
me terribly uncomfortable.  I could neither be still nor move without 
intensifying the pain somewhere.  The moon had hidden her face behind 
the clouds.  The stars seemed to have gone pale with horror at the orc 
armies roaming middle-earth and I found the lack of light unnerving.  On 
top of that, the darkness forced me to be an attentive navigator when the 
last thing I wanted to do was concentrate.  More than that, the boat- on 
three separate occasions- had been caught up in a side eddy and I had had 
to use the ores to get free despite my aching and protesting body.

The worst of it all, however, were the dismal thought that plagued my 
mind.  With only the black water to see and with only the cries of a dying 
human to hear there was nothing left for me to do but brood.  I did not 
want to have to explain this situation to Galadriel.  She would not 
understand.  For my lady, there was only one sin: disobedience.  Thus, she 
would assume I was being willful and I had no idea how to argue from the 
moral high ground as that was territory with which I was utterly 
unfamiliar.  I really didn’t mind being yelled at.  That struck me as more 
or less fair but with my lady punishment was never simple.  She would 
yell and when I was sufficiently contrite she would forgive me.  Then I 
could look forward to years filled with disdainful looks, lightly veiled 
public insults and a glacial reception whenever my duty brought me into 
her august presence.

After a while, my thoughts turned even darker.  I started wondering things 
like: ‘what’s it all about, really?’ and ‘if pandering to the whims of 
someone who was impossible to please was all there was then was that 
truly worth it?’  Galadriel was great and powerful and she depended upon 
me but what had I done for her that I could be proud of?  Fighting the orcs 
had felt good.  Defending and being defended by a comrade felt even 
better.  Even when I thought I was going to die I felt alive in a way I have 
not experienced for time out of memory.  

Then there was the matter of Aragorn.  The man lurked like a specter 
behind my thoughts.  He was the one responsible for putting me at odds 
with my lady.  I had never contemplated rebellion before I met him.  If it 
hadn’t been for some idea that it was Aragorn at risk when I first heard the 
sound of battle I might have found a nice tree and watched from the 
sidelines, following orders like my lady’s good little elf.  I had always 
suspected there was a certain hollowness to me and to my life but this had 
never bothered me until Aragorn had touched me.  I was drawn to the 
man.  I had realized that before but how could his pull on me ever come to 
rival the strength of my lady’s hold?

Of course, there were practical problems associated with exchanging a 
blonde mistress for a dark haired master.  These problem would likely 
prove insurmountable even if I was serious about leaving Galadriel.  
Naturally, I wasn’t serious, only thinking to pass the time.  I had been 
bound to my lady so long that I doubted I could learn a different life even 
if I wanted to- and I didn’t want to.  I was content.  So what if Galadriel 
didn’t cosset me or coo over me?  I wasn’t a child to need that.  So what if 
Galadriel’s greatest purpose was to keep an eye on her offspring?  Who 
was to say what was or wasn’t meaningful?  Besides what would the King 
of Men want with yet another lap-elf?  If I read the man aright he would 
probably expect me to search out my own destiny or some other claptrap.  
No, with my lady I was safe, comfortable, even content.

As the sun rose my mood lightened.  I dismissed all those jumbled and 
confused ideas I had had as the imaginings of someone injured and 
exhausted.  When I returned to Lorien I would do what I always did: Tell 
Galadriel an only slightly modified version of what had taken place then 
let her do as she would.  We had had tiffs before and the world hadn’t 
ended.  This wasn’t any different.  Just as I was congratulating myself on 
my resolve Boromir- who had been silent for the past few hours- gave a 
low groan and opened his eyes.

“How are you feeling on this beautiful autumn morning?”  I asked the man 
with something of my old manner.  The blond warrior’s eyes had focused 
on me as soon as I had begun to speak and they had narrowed into 
suspicious little slits by the time I had finished my question.

“Well, I suppose that is a silly question if feel you half as terrible as you 
look.  Do you know who I am?”  I proceeded merrily when it became 
apparent Boromir was not going to answer.

“Haldir?”  The man asked doubtfully after a moment’s concentration.

“Well done!  Let’s try another one: Would you like some water?”  
Boromir tried to shake his head ‘no’ but winced at the first motion.

“What is going on?”  The man queried in a low rasping voice.  The first 
sign of panic had started to register in his face as he started to recall the 
events of yesterday.

“I think you had better have some water before I explain anything.”  I 
informed the blond warrior as I reached for the waterskin.  I only wanted 
to explain the situation once so I wanted to make sure Boromir was lucid.  
Besides Aragorn h