Haldir weaved his way through the trees to the First Homely House, a seaside residence with a sparse sprinkling of trees around it. The five closest trees had flets built in them, but they weren’t trees of Lorien, so the design was changed to fit the trees. Two were maples, two oak, and one was a birch tree. It was in this last one that Haldir made his home, among the silver-white branches and the masses of golden-green leaves. Though he could keep little in his outdoor dwelling, it was the closest he had come to finding a mallorn near the sea. He felt a pull in his heart like that which others had when on the banks of the havens, yet his call was to Middle Earth, for never had he been compelled to travel here to Valinor.
It was his brothers, and his sister before them, who had convinced him to sail. All the while he watched when the ship pulled from shore until all traces of Mithlond disappeared into the mist. The few possessions which he had brought were kept in the First Homely House, the home of his siblings, their spouses, and children. Twice additions had been built, and it would likely continue to grow with the coming years. The tree dwellings were used on occasion when one fancied a romp in a tree or to sleep under the stars. One belonged to each of the siblings; the fifth was unofficially for their parents when they visited, though it had not yet been used. More than anything, they served as the lookouts for the few ships that now found their way to the undying lands. Haldir had taken this task upon himself to fill his time now that he no longer was required to guard forests and hunt orcs.
He approached his pseudo-mallorn, reaching for the rope that swayed in the breeze near the trunk. From the roof of the house he heard the voices of his nephews, chattering away about this and that into the night. No doubt Celebdreth and the twins were stargazing this evening. His eyes wandered to look into the lower windows of the Homely House. Candlelight glimmered in them, and he could see the movement of shadows against the curtains. His heel turned him now in the direction of the main entrance. The doors were unlocked, as was usual, but also propped open, letting the autumn breeze flow through the hall and down the corridors. He found his way through the house, following the sounds of laughter into the main parlor. Lounging on the couch were Rumil and Nenniach, the latter holding a quill and a folded piece of parchment, while Orophin sat in one of the greatly oversized chairs with Valarda perched on his lap. Celebrian was in the rocker, feet drawn up, resting her chin on her knees. Her expression was one of deep concentration. Elrond sat cross-legged on the floor in front of a large sack. In his hand, he held a mostly concealed square tile. A pile of them lay discarded nearby.
Haldir now understood why he had not been summoned to this gathering. He was familiar with this game, and in some ways, it always saddened him that he could not play. He quietly found a comfortable spot on the rug and leaned back against the wall.
“All I’m getting is red,” mumbled Celebrian, looking to the crystalline time keeper on the table. It was fast running out of sand, and as the last grains slipped through, she finally decided on, “It’s…it’s an apple?”
Elrond frowned and revealed the tile. The other side showed a bright yellow canary. Celebrian rolled her eyes. “Why ever were you thinking of the color red?”
“I wasn’t,” defended Elrond. “I think you must be picking up on the thoughts of someone else, my dear.” He scanned the room, and it wasn’t long before Orophin couldn’t contain his smile any longer. Celebrian pulled off her slipper and shot it at her brother.
“That really should be counted as cheating,” Nenniach said disdainfully. On the big comfy chair, Orophin was getting repeatedly slapped in the shoulder.
“We’re losing, and you’re wasting your energy goofing around instead of trying to help us win?” Valarda finished her assault and then marched up to the table to take Elrond’s place. “Hello, Hirband Arabeleg.”
Haldir nodded, not in the mood for banter with his sister-in-law this evening. “Who’s winning?”
“No one yet.” Nenniach held up the sheet where the score was tallied. “We’re tied with Elrond and Celebrian, while Orophin and Valarda are decidedly losing.” Nenniach retrieved the time keeper and approached Haldir. “Care to keep score?”
Grateful for the invitation to participate in some way, Haldir took the timer, quill, and score sheet, setting them out before him. He looked up at Valarda expectantly. She reached into the bag and dug through the tiles until she was satisfied and nodded to Haldir. He flipped the timer over and Valarda pulled one of the white clay pieces from the sack. Focusing on the picture painted upon it, she then looked over to Orophin, who had one of his rare, serious looks. For the next minute, the pair seemed to try to connect to one another, Valarda with a look of determination; Orophin appearing more desperate as the time ran out. “A duck. A duck, a brown one.”
Valarda’s shoulders slumped. “Oro! I almost think you want to lose.”
Orophin let his chin rest on his hand, propped on his knees by his elbows and gave a shrug. “Not a duck, then, love?”
“You were close, Oro, brown ducks live in the same general area as white stags. You shouldn’t feel too bad about that.” Haldir scribbled something onto the sheet and looked up to find six pairs of eyes staring at him, from faces with open mouths. “What?” They now turned to look at Valarda, who turned the tile to face them all in bewilderment. An outline of a stag leaping across the clay could clearly be seen. “Oh. Sorry.”
“How. In. Arda.” Orophin took another look at his brother, then to his wife, then narrowed his eyes at his brother again. “Is there something I should know?”
“Orophin!” Valarda threw the tile at the wall near the chair, successfully smashing it and raining Orophin with tiny pieces of clay and particles of dust. Elrond leaned over and grabbed the remaining bag of tiles. “Not in my house,” he boomed, and silence fell upon the room.
“Celebrian picked up on your thoughts,” Elrond finally said to Orophin.
“Celebrian is my sister,” hissed Orophin.
“I wasn’t reading her thoughts, Oro.” Haldir stood, handing the timer and such to Nenniach. “It just came to me.” He turned to leave, but as he reached the door, he heard Elrond clear his throat. Haldir looked over his shoulder to see the elf holding up one of the tiles, bag clutched in his opposite hand. Haldir looked at the blank side that faced him, closed his eyes, and said, “It is a ship. With black sails.” He opened his eyes to see the tile turned. Elrond handed the bag to Celebrian. She drew out another tile. “A dragon. And it is yellow.” The bag made its way around the room, the only sound being Haldir’s announcements. “An orange sunset. Cake, with blue icing. A…purple rabbit?”
Orophin cocked his head as he looked at the picture. “I would have called it a purple bunny, but I suppose we’ll have to give you the points for it.”
“Halli.” Rumil’s voice was soft, a little in awe. “Halli, how are you doing that?”
Haldir shook his head. “I don’t know.” His throat was dry, and fear washed over him. How was he doing this? He watched as Elrond took the bag once again, placing a number of the tiles face down on the floor. Haldir stared at them, and shook his head again.
“Concentrate,” suggested Celebrian. Haldir concentrated. He saw nothing, and told them so. Slowly, Elrond flipped each tile over. He had pulled all of the blank tiles from the bag. “You are your mother’s son,” Elrond said quietly, scooping all of the tiles, minus the unbroken one, into the bag. Haldir said nothing, standing quietly in the doorway as the others in the room gathered drinks and empty plates, leaving for their rooms. Orophin left last, giving his older brother an apologetic look.
Haldir did not leave to return to his tree. He spent the next few hours in the big chair, looking down at the shattered tile, still on the floor. The fire died as the night wore on, candles burned to their ends. In the darkness, he saw a pair of figures pass under the window. He heard them climb the stairs and enter the house, only one of them continuing through to the parlor. The room became brighter, due to the glow of the elleth who had entered. Galadriel glided into the room and knelt down before her son, taking both his hands into hers. “It has been difficult for you.”
Unexpectedly, Haldir’s entire body began to tremble, and he bowed his head as tears began to fall. Galadriel stood, pulling Haldir up with her, and led him across the room.
Celeborn had been waiting in the hall for a goodly amount of time. Long enough to examine all of the paintings on the walls, tisk at the hideous plant stand near the door, and poke his toe under a desk to chase out a few dust bunnies. He finally made his way to the room his wife had disappeared into.
He had not questioned it when she woke him in these early morning hours, had not asked where they went to, nor why when they had entered. But the old elf was bored, and a little disgruntled that he had been awoken for reasons other than he had hoped. He strode into the parlor, finding a mother and son scene he had not seen since Rumil was an elfling.
Galadriel sat in the rocking chair, her feet moving in a slow rhythm to keep the momentum going. Haldir clung to her, still letting out sobs now and then, his head buried into her shoulder, legs haphazardly bent over the arm of the chair. Galadriel stroked his hair, whispering words to soothe him.
“And…and I called out to you, but I couldn’t. I couldn’t…couldn’t speak, I couldn’t breathe,” he hiccupped, stumbling through his words.
“I know. I know you did. I heard you, little one, I heard you.” Her face was not dry either, noted Celeborn, as he approached them.
“And I was afraid. I was so afraid.”
“We were all afraid, little one. We all hid our fears.”
“But…but I shouldn’t have…shouldn’t have been. I was…I was the Captain,” he sniffled, adding quietly, “I was ashamed of myself.”
Galadriel closed her eyes, and Celeborn could feel that she was upset. Upset at herself for not seeing this sooner. For not catching Haldir’s deterioration since his arrival in Valinor, since the battle at Helm’s Deep. “Even the bravest, even the wisest, even the most powerful were afraid. There is no shame in that.”
“But I am full of fear again.” Haldir raised his head to look at her through swollen eyes. “You know what happened tonight.”
Galadriel nodded.
“It has been happening more and more, ever since I reached these shores.” Haldir swallowed, his breathing slowing to its normal pace. “I want it to stop.”
Galadriel looked at him sadly, wiping his tears away. “It is not going to stop. It is a gift from the Valar.”
“It is a curse,” he corrected her. “Why now? Why does this happen now? If it is a gift, why was it not granted earlier? I might have saved Dinendal, if only I had known he had hidden and come along to Rohan, I would have known and he wouldn’t be... It wouldn’t be my fault.”
“Dinendal’s death was not your fault,” admonished Galadriel sternly. “You did so much for him, taking him into your home. Being a father to him, a father who loved him.”
“Then why was he taken from me?” sobbed Haldir. “I don’t want this ‘gift’ now. I am still healing from things past, I can not deal with this.”
“You will not have to accept your fate alone. We will all help you.”
“I do not want help,” Haldir said firmly, but it was difficult for his parents to take him seriously while he still sat on his mother’s lap, clinging to her.
“You never have.” Celeborn ran his hand over his son’s cheek, then kissed him on the brow. “You get that from me.”
- - - -
Haldir weaved his way through the trees to the First Homely House, a rope under his arm and a sack over his shoulder. He stopped at the edge of the house, and whistled sharply. Three heads appeared over the side from the roof.
“Uncle Haldir!”
“Great to see you!”
“What’s with the rope?”
“It’s the stairs to your new hideout.” He threw the coil into the air to his nephews, and all three reached out to grasp it and pull it up.
“Where are you going?”
“You aren’t leaving us, are you?”
“It would be such a bore without you.”
“I’ll be in here if you’re looking for me.” Haldir nodded in the direction of the front doors.
“Does this have to do with Grandmother?”
“Did Ada finally convince you to live in the house?”
“Nana said you’re seeing things, but without a mirror.”
“A little bit yes, and a little bit no. Now get off of the roof, I promised the Lord of the House that no further shingles would be damaged if I was able to impart my tree to you.” Haldir watched the trio scamper down the side of the house and run to the tree after a round of ‘thank yous’.
Haldir stepped inside the house, closing the door behind him. There was something warm and cozy about the house now that he entered, something he hadn’t felt other times. Something that told him he was finally home.
He made his ascent up the stairs, pausing on the third floor landing. The hallway went straight to Elrond and Celebrian’s rooms, and also left, to what would be Haldir’s domain. The elf slowly walked past framed maps on the walls next to drawings Elladan, Elrohir, and Arwen had drawn as elflings. He opened the door to his room, and peered cautiously in.
Celebrian had been ecstatic when Haldir asked if he could live in the house – a decision prompted by Galadriel and Celeborn, who had otherwise threatened to kidnap him in the night and force him to live under their roof. It was too true that he had hidden himself away, practically turning into a hermit. The loss of his troops at Helm’s Deep had affected him greater than any could have thought. It was the final blow to centuries of loss, between wardens of the march, and so many he met in his travels – elf, man, hobbit, and even dwarf. The final straw had been Dinendal, a young elf who had been thrown from his home and adopted by Haldir. His death had been the most difficult for Haldir, though he masked his grief from both family and friends. For the past few night he had allowed himself to mourn the loss, and though it did not end his grief, it provided for a new beginning. Haldir found his sister now, shifting things around in the room - adjusting the spread on the bed, the books on the desk.
“You didn’t have to fuss so much over me,” he mumbled, setting his sack of belongings from his tree down on the desk gingerly.
Celebrian pulled Haldir into an embrace and then led him around the bedroom, the bathroom, the lounge, office, and porch. “Elrond is planning another series of rooms to be built in the future, so if these aren’t to your liking-“
“Clebri, they are perfect.” The walls had been repainted with a golden hue, and large silver-grey rugs covered the floors where polished white wood did not peek out. What few things he had been storing in the attic were now placed about the room. Celebrian hugged him once again, then bid him to explore his rooms further, as well as the rest of the house, before she left.
Haldir sat down on the edge of the bed carefully – it had been some time since he’d slept in one and not on the hard pads found on the flets. It was soft and wonderful he decided as he sunk his hands into the downy blue spread that covered it. He turned down the covers, concluding his first goal in the First Homely House would be to take a nap. He found a lumpy package tucked under the pillows, and pulled it out to examine it.
It was squishy, not well wrapped, and oddly shaped. Cautiously, he removed the paper and ribbon that tied it together, revealing a plush purple rabbit.
Bunny.
Same difference.
- - - -
Elrohir made his way up the steps, Elladan on his heels. They had offered to retrieve Uncle Haldir for supper, but waited until Celebdreth was busy with his own errand before doing so.
“Do you think he found it?”
“I couldn’t have made it any more obvious without Nana seeing it.”
Elrohir opened the door slightly, and the twins shifted their gaze around the room until they saw what they were looking for. Haldir, sleeping peacefully, one arm holding the purple rabbit protectively.
“He likes it.”
“It turned out nice.”
“What can I say, we should have been tailors.” Elladan crept back down the hall as Elrohir shut the door.
