Chapter 20

The three brothers walked home, their faces wreathed in delighted grins. Rumil smiled at Haldir. Haldir grinned back. Orophin patted his eldest brother repeatedly on the shoulder.

“Hal,” he said. And after a moment’s pause, he said “Hal” again.

“Orophin,” said Haldir, responding in kind.

“You did it,” said Rumil, giving Haldir a violent whack on the back. “I told you you could!”

“Well, actually, she did it,” said Haldir.

“No, it was you,” said Rumil. “You were standing there looking so… so… well, you know… and so she couldn’t help herself,” said Rumil, with a proud paternal air.

“The jewel,” said Orophin, “is beautiful in itself…”

The “jewel’s” face turned a furious ruby-red. A stream of abuse rent the air.

“You’d better apologise, Orophin,” said Rumil. “Or he’ll walk off into the forest in a huff again, like he did last time…”

“That’s right,” growled Haldir.

Orophin looked at Haldir. Haldir glared back.

“Well,” said Orophin, “if you’re going to walk off in a huff, get on with it. We can’t wait all day… aargh!”

He doubled up in pain as HaldirÂ’s clenched fist landed firmly in his stomach. Recovering quickly, Orophin aimed a blow at HaldirÂ’s shapely nose, but unfortunately hit the wrong brother in the eye, as Rumil, ever the pacifist, tried to separate them.

Letting out an anguished yell, Rumil clutched wildly at HaldirÂ’s hair as he fell. Trying to keep his balance, Haldir grabbed at OrophinÂ’s arm and the three brothers crashed heavily down to the ground.

They lay on a grassy bank in silence for a while, looking up at the clear blue sky. A single white cloud floated lazily in the gentle breeze.

“Are you all right, Orophin?” asked Haldir after a while.

“Yeah,” said Orophin.

“And you, Rumil?”

“Yeah, I’m fine. Are you all right, Hal?”

Haldir looked up into the sky. Just yesterday, he had been facing the possibility of spending the rest of his life in MordorÂ… and nowÂ…

“I’m so all right, I could cry,” he said.

For once, neither brother came up with a wisecrack to ridicule him.

“I’m so happy for you, Hal,” said Rumil.

“Me too,” said Orophin.

Haldir wanted to thank them. But when he tried to say the words, he found he couldnÂ’t speak.

“So the young vandal is to be married,” smiled Lord Celeborn, “and the mallorns of L’Oreal are safe again.”

“I’m not so sure, my Lord,” grinned Legolas. “I heard Mardir say something about carving a poem on a mallorn as a wedding present for him.”

Lord Celeborn shook his head in amused disgust.

“Well, Legolas son of Thranduil, I will grant your request,” he said. “The Orcs will be given safe-conduct and guidance to any point on the borders of L’Oreal that they may name. I declare them free in the Realm of L’Oreal to the furthest of its ancient bounds.”

Legolas bowed low. “For this I thank you, my Lord,” he said. “We wished to express our gratitude to them.”

“And so you shall,” said Lord Celeborn. “You and the two young woodcarving poets may convey the news to them in person.”

Legolas smiled, and bowed again. “We will, my Lord.”

Marty chuckled to himself as he read over the poem he had just written. Now all he needed was a mallorn to carve it on. Hearing footsteps outside, Marty hurriedly hid the sheet of parchment under a pile of books. It was probably HaldirÂ…

His guess was right. The round green door of MartyÂ’s study burst open and Haldir rushed excitedly into the room. But on seeing Marty, his face didnÂ’t brighten up, as usual. He started, as if he suddenly remembered something, and sank down into a chair, his face a mask of pain.

Marty stood up and went to him. “Hal, what’s wrong?”

Haldir managed a smile. “Nothing,” he said. “Nothing…”

“Tell me the truth, my lad,” said Marty, replicating perfectly the stern tone that his father had used to take with errant children.

Haldir smiled, and then sighed. “Marty, I was so excited about everything, I came rushing down here to your father’s study to tell him all about it. I forgot, Marty. I forgot that he wouldn’t be here…”

There was silence for a moment.

“Marty, it’s stupid of me to talk about how much I miss him, when it must be so much worse for you…”

Marty took Haldir’s hand. “Come Hal, let’s go outside…”

Haldir and Marty Sam walked through the trees in silence, breathing in the fresh, bracing morning air, and making their own long shadows on the shimmering bars of gold that the sun had laid down on the floor of the forest.

“Do you miss him a lot, Hal?”

Haldir nodded. “I think of him all the time…”

“Hal, wherever he is now, I’m sure he’s happy for you,” said Marty. “and Hal… if it makes any difference, I’m happy for you, too.”

“Thank you, Marty.” Haldir’s words were simple, commonplace. He was no poet. But he meant what he said. Like Mary Sue, Haldir too had sensed Marty’s unspoken resentment, and it was a relief to him to find it gone. He smiled down at Marty. “Thank you,” he said again.

They walked in silent companionship for a while. The mallorn leaves shimmered silver-white in the morning sun. Haldir stretched out his hand to “touch” a shaft of light that filtered through the trees.

Marty looked at Haldir, who walked beside him, lost in thought. What do you call someone youÂ’ve known for years, wondered Marty, someone you know so well that you can read his mind like a book, and he can read yoursÂ… What do you call a person whom you can trust like no one else with your innermost thoughtsÂ… What do you call a person whom youÂ’re as comfortable with as an old shoeÂ…
SimpleÂ… you call him a friend.

Marty ran his hand through his curly brown hair. But now IÂ’m going to be so alone, he thought.

“Hal,” he said aloud, “D’you know of any hair care product I could use to make myself more attractive to women?”

Haldir stared at him in horror. “Don’t ever do that,” he said sternly. “Don’t ever change a thing about yourself. You’re perfect the way you are.”

“But Hal…”

“Not another word,” said Haldir.

Marty grinned and fell silent. Whenever he felt a bit low, Hal always made him feel good againÂ…

“Marty…” said Haldir.

“Yes, Hal?”

“Do you think everything will work out all right, Marty?”

“Why, Hal, are you scared?”

“Yes, I am, a little… Marty, it might take years and years for me to feel as comfortable with her as I do with you…”

Marty smiled. “You’re both so excited, so much in love,” he said.

“Yes, but what happens after that?”

“Hal, when youÂ’re no longer madly in love, thatÂ’s when it will get even better. ThatÂ’s when everything will fall into place… Hal, I just know everythingÂ’s going to be all right.”

Haldir walked in thoughtful silence for a moment. When he looked up again, much of his confusion had cleared. It was funny, he thought. Whenever he felt down, Marty always made him feel good about himself again.

Haldir and Marty walked quietly beneath the tall mallorns of LÂ’Oreal in the soft morning light, looking in hope to the years ahead.

Haldir could see the moon through the branches. Mary Sue was asleep now. He could hear her gentle breathing, and feel her hair on his arm – soft as silk, glossy black, catching the starlight. She was smiling in her sleep. There were millions of stars in the sky twinkling through the mallorn leaves like luminous raindrops. No poetry could describe how he felt – not his own, not even MartyÂ’s.

Her little petal soft hand slipped into his large one. A tiny gesture of trust. He would give everything he had to try to live up to her trust in him. And maybe he would fall short. Yes, he would most probably fall short. But something told him that he would be forgiven for not being perfect.

He wanted to say something beautiful and poetic to her, but all he could think of were the clumsy words that he had once painstakingly carved on a mallorn trunk, incurring Lord Celeborn’s wrath. “O Mary Sue,” he whispered, “I love thee true…”

She stirred in her sleep. Haldir fell silent at once. The last thing he wanted to do was to wake her up with his lousy poetryÂ…

“Haldir…”

“Yes, Mary Sue?”

“What rhymes with ‘too?’”

“Well, let me see now,” he said helpfully. “Blue? Glue?”

“No, I can’t use those,” she said.

Haldir thought a bit. “Stew? Crew?”

“No, I can’t use those either,” she said. “I’m trying to write a poem, and those words don’t sort of fit in.”

“Well, if you tell me the whole line, I might be able to help,” said Haldir.

“I’m stuck with the very first line,” she said, “But I’ve got the second one:
It goes, ‘O Haldir _______, I love you too.’”

Haldir squeezed her hand gently. “Shoo,” he said at last.
“O Haldir, shoo!
I can’t stand you!”

“No,” said Mary Sue. “You’re not allowed to change the second line.”

“Sorry,” he said. “I’ll try again. How about ‘shoe?’”

“You’re no good,” she said. “And so I’m going to stop you from saying another word.”

Her lips met his. And Haldir of LÂ’Oreal was effectively silenced for a while.

Far below, at the base of HaldirÂ’s mallorn, two furtive figures sidled up to the mallorn trunk. A close observer might have noticed that one was very tall, and the other very short. The tall figure lit a lantern and held it up to illuminate a section of the trunk. The short figure pulled a knife out of his belt, and began to carve elven characters on the mallorn trunk, with frequent pauses to consult a sheet of parchment that the tall figure helpfully held up to the lamplightÂ…