Orophin did his best to entertain next. His lyrical contributions prompted Haldir to pull out his flute and Celebrian to retrieve her harp, their attempts to try to cover his caterwauls doing nothing to daunt him. Halfway through a Vanya folksong, Valarda had practically wretched Orophin from his seat, and the two apologized for their retreat, Orophin mumbling something incoherent, but obviously dirty as he was kicked on their way out.
Now as Celebrian and Haldir finished the piece without the off-key vocalizations, Elrond offered to read from a book of poems. The book was passed throughout the room, the occupants selecting their favorites. It was just as Celeborn was reciting a few verses that Celebrian slid a sideways look at Elrond. The half-elf pretended not to notice it in an attempt to be respectful to his in-laws still present. Celebrian left her usual spot in the rocker as Celeborn read, sitting down next to her husband on the couch.
Haldir tossed a glance up to his mother, flute long since put away. He was sitting on the floor, holding apart a skein of yarn, while she wrapped it into a tight ball. She, too, pretended not to take note of her daughter’s behavior, but her smile said otherwise. Haldir looked back to the couple on the couch. Celebrian had faked a yawn, drawing her arms high over her head, before letting the left one settle behind Elrond’s back. He didn’t so much as blink.
Celeborn ended his reading, then offered the book to his wife, who shook her head. He held it out to Haldir, who raised his occupied hands in response. Looking across the room, Celeborn met Elrond’s gaze, and cast the book to the half-elf. Celebrian leaned forward suddenly and caught it easily in midair.
Celebrian flipped through the pages, finally finding the selection she wanted. This was all a great accomplishment, considering her left arm had never left its place behind Elrond’s back. Aloud, she read:
Little elfling, ‘tis time for bed.
The stars, they twinkle overhead.
Little elfling, in his tree,
The leaves, they whisper ‘Reverie’.
Little elfling, shall I tuck you in?
The rocks, they keep you safe within.
Little elfling, in his cave,
The winds, they whisper to be brave.
Little elfling, this kiss doth cast a spell.
The valleys, they keep you hidden well.
Little elfling, in his home,
Rest now until the morning come.
Celebrian sighed sadly, turning her gaze to a slightly worried Elrond. “Is something the matter, my dear?” he asked.
Celebrian nodded. “We don’t have any little elflings to tuck into bed anymore.”
“Perhaps you might convince Elladan and Elrohir to let you tuck them in tonight?” suggested Elrond.
“They aren’t elflings anymore, my darling.” Celebrian let the book close and fall to the couch, using her now free hand to turn Elrond to face her. “Arwen is not coming. I have accepted that. I have not yet accepted that I will be without a daughter in Valinor.”
Elrond made an attempt to speak, but a barely audible sound somewhere between a squeak and a squawk came out. Elrond looked to the floor at his brother-in-law. The broad-shouldered elf was discretely ignoring everyone in the room, staring at the floor. Less so, Haldir was mouthing some sort of prayer to the Valar for letting him lead a life alone. It figured that he wouldn’t get any help from him.
Celeborn had the same idea, and was up from his seat, exploring the shelves of books. His back was turned strategically toward the group and was shaking a bit. In laughter, most likely, thought the half-elf. Elrond looked in desperation at his last resort. Galadriel was still rolling her yarn, and without leaving her task or looking up, directed her comment to Celeborn, who turned around as she spoke. “I would so love to have an elfling in the house.” She paused, now dramatically letting her eyes meet Celeborn’s. “Perhaps two. I only carried one of our children.”
Celeborn’s face fell, and his mirthful look was immediately replaced with wariness. “Five children? Isn’t that a bit much, love?”
“On the contrary, five is an excellent number,” Galadriel smiled dreamily. “I was the youngest of five. Besides, I must say, I miss the times we spent trying to have dear Haldir. Locking ourselves away in our tree, romping in the garden. Long, overindulgent trips to the warm springs…”
Celebrian suddenly removed her hand from Elrond’s shoulder. It flew to cover her mouth. “I swam in those springs as a child,” she whispered to herself, then glanced at Haldir. “Before you came along. Right before you came along.”
“Do not fret, dear. We were always careful to clean things up before we moved to the next place,” Galadriel assured her.
“The next place?”
“Oh, of course.” Galadriel’s face took on that dreamy look again. “Your father is quite the hearty stallion. It was not unlike him to make love to me three, sometimes four times a day during that time. And at night…” her voice trailed off.
Celebrian was quite pale as she jumped off from the couch. “Ai, oh, ew, Nana….yrrlll.” Celebrian shivered. “I…I need a drink.” Celebrian marched herself from the room, shuddering as she left.
Celeborn, still frozen in place by the bookcase, now let out a long, labored breath. “I think I shall see if our daughter…if she needs…I’m leaving,” He finally settled on, following in the direction Celebrian had gone.
Elrond closed his eyes, letting out a sigh of relief. “Thank you.”
Galadriel nodded, her attention back to her yarn again. “You will have to discuss the matter with her in the future, but I think you are safe for this evening.”
“And…and Lord Celeborn?” Elrond had seen little that could frighten the older elf, and watched as Galadriel shrugged off the question.
“Lord Celeborn is my responsibility. I shall set records straight with him when and if I see fit to. Besides,” Galadriel turned to Haldir, still on the floor, “you would not mind another sister or brother, would you?”
“Of course not,” Haldir said matter-of-factly, “but only if I get to name them.”
“You’ve done well with names in the past, I see no reason in breaking with tradition.” Galadriel sat back, truly thoughtful now. “Celebrian has given me much to think about this night.”
Elrond used the pause that followed to excuse himself from the room. As the last of the yarn unwound from Haldir’s hands, he stood, then looked at his mother, a somewhat questioning look on his face, as if he wanted to ask something, but feared the answer. When she finally acknowledged him, he simply said, “Hearty Stallion? Was that truly necessary?”
Galadriel smiled, and it turned to a grin. “You should hear the pet names your father has for me.”
“I shall thank you not to tell them to me. I expect enough nightmares tonight from what I have heard.” Haldir stretched his arms above his head, making a noise something between a purr and a growl as the ever-present pain in his back alleviated itself somewhat. “I think I shall turn in.”
“Shall I tuck you in? Help chase your nightmares away?”
Haldir smiled and nodded. He offered his arm to his mother, walking with her through the long hallway to the stairs. In the kitchen, they spied the warm glow of candles. Father and daughter were drinking, something stronger than wine from the smell, and comparing the advantages and disadvantages of marriage to a powerful elf. Galadriel pretended not to notice. Continuing to the second floor, all was quiet – his brothers and their spouses likely asleep by now. On the third floor, the door to Elrond’s room was ajar – a subtle invitation to Celebrian.
They made it halfway to the suite of rooms Haldir occupied, stopping when they came to a series of framed pictures of birds drawn with oversized feet and heads. The signature in the corner was unmistakable. Haldir studied the creatures sadly, turning to look at his mother when he found her looking at him. He shifted uncomfortably – it was still difficult for him, being a grown elf, and yet shorter not only than his younger siblings, but than his parents as well. “You miss her.”
“As we all do,” he replied.
“You miss her more.” It was an observation more than an accusation, but Haldir did not see it this way.
“I never had, nor would I have, done anything improper.”
Galadriel simply nodded. “I know this. But you did love her.” Haldir looked to the floor in disgrace. “Do not be ashamed. No one thinks less of you for it. My own uncle lusted for me, but was not so much as civilized as are you.”
“I did not lust for my niece,” said Haldir bitterly. “I admit that I wrongly loved her, aye, but never lust.”
“Love, my dear, is never wrong.” Galadriel hugged her son closer. “I never worried about you, dear one. I knew you well, understood your morals. It was your brother whom I feared for.”
“Orophin?” guessed Haldir.
Galadriel nodded once again. “His thoughts drifted to his sister more than I would have liked. But that is over now. Now, I worry about you.” She smoothed his hair back behind his ears, kissing him on the forehead. “Do not grieve, Haldir. Do not fade for her.”
Haldir smiled weakly. “Do not worry yourself. I will not fade. I know she has been happy and will be happy,” he said, hating to lie, and hating even more at how easily it came. He returned the kiss to his mother’s cheek. “I am tired. I wish to retire.”
Slowly, they found their way into Haldir’s room. The elf kicked off his boots, removed his tunic, and crawled into bed. Galadriel hoped he would stop wearing his Galadhrim uniform all of the time as if orcs would suddenly come crawling to the shores of Valinor or from the trees of the mainland. She bent down, drawing the covers up, careful not to disturb the plush rabbit occupying the other side of the bed. “Rest well,” she told him, kissing him again.
Haldir reached his arms up, embracing her tightly. “Please, do not worry yourself over me.”
Galadriel nodded as Haldir’s arms slipped back down to the bed. She turned to go, and at the door, turned back upon hearing a soft coughing. “One thing more?” asked Haldir. “Please, never use the words ‘hearty’ and ‘stallion’ together in the same sentence while I am within range of hearing.” Galadriel smiled, closing the door behind her.