Note: This is not mine. It is also from Elf on a Shelf.

THREE DAYS

~~~ ° ~~~

THE DAY OF HIS DEPARTURE

“It was your intention to leave without doing the proper fare-wells.”

Haldir didn’t look up from the arrow he was working on. He had felt his sister’s presence for quite a while now and heard her climbing up the tree to his talan; it had been a statement, not a question, so he just nodded, and continued his work.

“I see.” She sighed, and brushed some dust of the tree’s bark off her sleeve. Haldir kept his hands busy, but he followed the sound of her boots on the rough wooden floor; she was walking around and finally standing behind him. Haldir looked up; startled when he felt the warmth of a cloak wrapping around his shoulders.

“The night is cold. I thought to bring you an extra cloak, brother.”

Haldir bowed his head once to thank her, and Mirwen sat down beside him, stretched out her legs and leant back, resting the weight of her upper body on her hands.

She took a deep breath of the cool morning air.

“It was a morning like this when you were born.” Her voice was hoarse and her speech short, as was her way – strong and reliable like the mountains, and at times, her words could cut like a knife.

Haldir hesitated a moment, then he looked up, overseeing the still sleeping Golden Wood; his eyes taking in the place which once used to be so full of magic and life, and now had reached the end of its cycle.

“I was a morning child then”, he finally said, his fingers playing with the feathers of the arrow.

“I remember it well – yes, you were. Unlike Rúmil, who was born late into the day.”

Haldir chuckled. “Then this is the reason our brother finds it so very hard a task to get up in the morning!” Mirwen rolled her eyes, and they both laughed.

“Will he be under your command?”

Haldir nodded. “Yes. Yes, he will. And … ”

“Nay, don’t say it,” she interrupted him, and her hand cut the air in a hushing gesture “do not say you will take care of him. I know you will. And do not promise you will bring him back, for this promise would be beyond keeping.”

Haldir sighed, and put the arrow aside. “The dawn is breaking. We will leave soon.” He felt her hand resting on his shoulder for a short moment, reassuring, warm, and all the memories of his childhood flooded back to him – how she had cared for him, taught him, putting her own needs and life aside for her brothers. Caring for him and Rúmil – this was what she had always regarded as her duty.

Putting own needs and life aside – this also applied to him. Thousands of years following every rule in the book, years of unquestioned devotion to the Lord and the Lady of the Woods – and now here he was, awaiting the break of dawn of a day which might be his last, resenting to leave with every fibre of his being.

For the first time in his life, Haldir didn’t want to do his duty. Was this nagging voice in his head a warning that his time had come? And if so – had his life been well-lived? Forsaking the comfort of a home, a loved one, of children in favour of being The Guardian?

He snapped out of his musings, his thoughts wandering back to their young brother. He grinned, and turning to look at his sister, he said:

“Liliel has given Rúmil a hair band of hers as a token. He is convinced this will give him the strength to slay a company of Uruk’hai single-handedly – even if they should attack in the early morning.”

Mirwen gave a short laugh. “Ai, young love! But she’s a very fair one.” She winked at Haldir, whose cheeks showed a slight blush.

“Yes … I guess she is. I am glad he made such a wise choice – for a while, my heart was worried.”

She shrugged. “Neither father nor we were able to tame him. Maybe she can. Maybe her influence will wake his awareness of his duties. But who can tell if it is not better as it is now? Sometimes I wonder … ” She broke off.

“Wonder about what?” he asked, and Mirwen frowned.

“Sometimes I wonder if one can be too bound up in duty.”

Her words echoed his thoughts earlier on, but he didn’t know what to say. For a while, brother and sister sat in silence, only a very faint glow in the distance announcing the day would break soon.

Finally, Mirwen reached behind her, and brought forward a quiver, filled with arrows. She handed it over to Haldir.

“I made them. They will always find their target – even if you should miss,” she teased, the last words gaining her ribs a short connection with Haldir’s elbow.

“My thanks. Your arrows are the best. I – I really appreciate it.” Haldir took her hand in his and pressed it shortly. It was not the soft hand of a lady who spent her days with poetry, lore-telling and singing – it was the hand of a skilled archer, a hand callussed from thousands of years of holding a bow. The Golden Wood had many guardians.

She would only tolerate the gesture for a second, then she withdrew her hand. “I thought that some arrows which will find their way into the hearts of your enemies might be more useful than a hair band of mine. Though …” and with this she tucked at one of his braids “… your hair would need some care – it looks like a Tulah-bird has used your braids to nest!”

Haldir pretended to sulk, because his braids were as impeccable as always – for even if he’d rather died than admitting it, he was pretty vain when it came to his hair. But then all elves were vain to a certain extent, and Haldir was still far away from the attitudes of Rúmil, who spent more time in front of the mirror than was suitable and decent, at least judged by Haldir’s rather strict standards.

Mirwen gave his shoulder a playful slap. “Come, brother.” She got up, and then sat down behind him. “Now look at this – you’re many millennia old, but still you don’t know how to braid your hair.” She took a comb out of the small bag on her belt, and started to work on his hair.

Haldir closed his eyes, and remembered how she’d done this thousands of years ago, and how he’d loudly resented it, pouting, sulking and yelling, claiming he’d be old enough to braid his hair alone, but secretly enjoying the attention he got and the feel of her hands in his hair.

She worked fast, dedicating her full attention to the task at hand, as was her nature.

When she came to the last strand, she hesitated a moment, then took a blue band out of her own hair, and wove it into his last braid. “Here – we don’t want Rúmil to be the only one with a token.” He well noticed the slightly embarrassed tone in her voice, for sentimental gestures like these were not very much like her. Then he heard her quiet laughter, felt it vibrating through her body.

Haldir reached up, captured Mirwen’s hand in his, and pressed a soft kiss on her palm. Then he leant back, just a few moments, being a little elfling again, running to his sister to seek comfort when thunderstorms scared him, running to her when he fell and hurt, calling out for her when nightmares woke him frightened, letting her comfort him when his first love was lost.

And as in those days long passed by, his thoughts came to rest, his doubts faded, and he felt calm and confident again.

She stroked his hair for a while, then she straightened up.

“It is time to leave.”

He nodded. Yes. It was time.

Haldir got up, handed the cloak Mirwen had brought back to her and strapped the quiver with her arrows on his back. There were a thousand things he wanted to tell her, but he had lost his voice, so he just rested his hand on her cheek for a moment, and she leant into the touch, closing her eyes.

Then he was gone.

~~~ ° ~~~

THE DAY OF HIS BATTLE

“Na barad!!! Na barad!!! Haldir! Na barad!!!”
(To the keep/tower!)

Haldir heard Aragorn’s command, and signalled his understanding, but how to retreat to the keep, he didn’t know. The Uruk’hai outnumbered them by far, and he fought for his life, slashing, hacking, tearing, stabbing – but it seemed that for every Uruk’hai he slaughtered, three others came running to replace the fallen one, blocking Haldir’s way to safety.

Rúmil – there was Rúmil, fighting with two Uruk’hai at the same time, and it looked like he would not be able to withstand much longer. Haldir’s heart skipped a beat when he saw the blood staining his brother’s silver blond hair – then he remembered it was the red band Liliel had given Rúmil as a token.

He knew his brother was getting weaker, exhausted from the long, hard battle he was not accustomed to; he could sense his fear, and he knew that this fear would show in Rúmil’s clear blue eyes, a sign of panic that was spurring the Uruk’hai on in their fervent attacks, like the smell of blood could drive Wargs into a killing frenzy.

Haldir decapitated the Uruk’hai in front of him, frantically trying to make his way to his brother, who lost ground quickly and was with his back to the wall. Just a few more steps …

The blow which slashed open Haldir’s back didn’t hurt at first, oddly enough, but Haldir stumbled, not able to stand anymore, his vision flickered, his legs gave up underneath him, and then there was a second blow, this time from the front, and he fell into the darkness.

//Mirwen//
//sister//
//I’m cold//

~~~ ° ~~~

THE DAY OF HER SEARCH

Wounded warriors everywhere, huddling together under narrow stairs, trying to escape the merciless rain. Some were just wandering around with empty eyes, others waited for their wounds to be tended to. Very few of the survivors were Elves.

Mirwen led her mare slowly through the fortress, her eyes wandering from face to face, hoping to find her brothers alive and well, hoping …

“This is not a place for you to dwell.”

She felt a heavy hand on her shoulder, spun around and saw the tired, pale face of Aragorn. He was covered in blood and grime, the deep wound on his arm still bleeding.

She straightened up. “‘This was not a place to dwell for my brothers either, but still they came to your help.” She realized she’d spoken in a sharper tone than she had intended, so she lowered her voice when she added: “I came to take them home.”

For a second, something like pity flashed up in the ranger’s face, then he said, “Rúmil was wounded, but do not fear, he will heal.”

She studied his face, she read the grief and despair, and this was all the answer she needed on the question she hadn’t dared to ask. She swallowed the hard lump which began to form in her throat, then she asked briskly, “Where?”

Aragorn let his eyes wander around, then he pointed vaguely in one direction. “Up there, I think. It was dark. It happened so fast. I can’t remember.” For a moment, his mind seemed to be somewhere else, in a dark place, then he focused on her again. “I was with him.”

Mirwen bowed her head. “My thanks.” He mirrored the gesture, then he watched her climbing the stairs to the top of the wall, over the dead bodies of Men, Elves and Uruk’hai.

She looked at every fallen elf, turned around bodies, forced herself to face this horror, because she had to find him. Hours and hours she searched, seeing the madness of war in every pair of soulless eyes.

But Mirwen kept on searching, side by side with the women of the Rohirrim who were looking for their fallen husbands, sons, fathers and lovers. A procession of grief, and a silent one, only interrupted by a wail or a sob when a familiar face was found among the fallen. Also Mirwen found friends of her childhood, friends of many centuries, found the mutilated body of one who had courted her once.
But she didn’t find Haldir.

Dusk had come, and for a moment, she gave in to fatigue, ran her hand through her hair, combing back the strands hanging in her face and leaving a streak of blood and dirt on her forehead in the process. It would be pointless to continue the search once the night had come. She had to rest, and she had to see Rúmil, making sure he really was alive.

When she stepped over some stones broken out of the fortress wall, she saw it. Once it had been a blue band, woven into a braid of silver blonde hair. It was all she could see of Haldir, her brother, buried under the carcasses of two Uruk’hai.

She tore at the bodies, but they seemed to get heavier with every pull and tug. “Get away from him!” she repeated over and over, as if she could will the lifeless bodies to move. She was so tired, and her arms seemed to have lost all strength; she started to beat on the unmoving pile of flesh in front of her with her bare fists, when finally four strong hands grabbed the first Uruk’hai by his arms and dragged him away.

It were Aragorn and Legolas, who, worried about her restless wanderings amidst the dead, had come to take her back for food and rest.

The second Uruk’hai was rolled aside, and there he was. His hair stuck together in a revolting mixture of blood and dirt, his eyes wide open, and he was a little elfling again to her, wondering with big eyes about a butterfly or a flower, asking her a thousand questions about the “why’s” and “how’s” of life, and she just couldn’t believe that this mouth would never speak and these eyes never see again.

Mirwen sank down on her knees, and took the lifeless figure in her arms, hugging him close.

Haldir moaned.

For a few seconds, Mirwen was petrified – a state she shared with Aragorn and Legolas, who stared down at their supposedly fallen brother in arms. Had their ears betrayed them? Had Aragorn not witnessed Haldir’s death? Had he not died in his arms?

There was another sound coming from the badly wounded man.

Now he slowly, slowly turned his head to his sister.

“Why are you here?” Haldir slowly and almost inaudibly asked.

Mirwen starred at him for a moment, collecting her thoughts, almost unable to believe what she saw, heard and felt. Then she took off her cloak, wrapped it around her brother, and tucked the garment in tightly.

“The night is cold. I thought to bring you an extra cloak, brother.”

***
The End