“Down in the valley, my lover waits for me,
Sings softly to me, and calls me from the sea;
Though my heart is heavy, and I wish to flee,
I shall stay until the day that I can go with thee.”
Haldir tried to place the words of the song Nenniach sang and hummed. The tune was familiar enough, but it was melancholy compared to how he was used to hearing it sung. And the words were most definitely not the cheerful ones he so often heard Rumil sing as he accompanied on flute during the long, cold nights on the borders.
When the words trailed off, Haldir feared he would be left alone again. He was awake now, and planned to stay awake as long as possible. His dreams grew tiring – images of the battle he had fought in always came to him, whether in reverie or slumber. What was more, his mind played tricks, sometimes showing him elves who were not at Helm’s Deep, who had not fallen. On the first night of his recovery, he had seen in his mind the deaths of his brothers. His hoarse scream had brought Nenniach to his side, and since then, she hardly had left.
“Please...don’t go...” he rasped as he attempted to reach an arm out in the direction of the music. The most he was able to move was a few fingers on his right hand, and they felt numb and heavy, and so these he set back upon the ground.
Nenniach rushed over without a moment’s hesitation. “I would not have thought to go anywhere, Haldir,” she said, stooping down. “I am right here, and will get you anything you need.”
“Water?” he asked, and his voice was apologetic. He blinked his eyes open, but his vision was still blurred, so he shut them once again.
“Of course, dear, of course.” Nenniach patted him on the cheek before whisking away to retrieve the garden pitcher.
Haldir hated being so reliant on anyone, but his sister-in-law reminded him so much of Celebrian. Celebrian after she decided Haldir was her brother and not a half-orc, that was. Haldir chuckled softly, but this soon turned into a weak cough. Nenniach was back at his side quickly, and he could imagine her frown.
“What is it you’re laughing at now?” she clucked, although she wasn’t really sore at him. The medicines she had been giving him for the pain in his back seemed to make him giddy at the oddest of times. Short outbursts of laughter for no apparent reason were becomming common.
“Just wondering how we plan to manage this feat is all,” he lied. Indeed, Nenniach was unsure just how Haldir was intending to drink the water. After Celeborn had cauterized the wound, Haldir was placed on his stomach so that his back could best heal. He lay on the ground in the garden, atop a number of quilts that had been brought from the Great Mallorn. His chin rested on his arms, which were folded in front of him. If it had not been for the obvious injuries, it would have seemed that he was merely lounging in the garden.
In the nude.
Thus far, the only complaint Haldir had made was regarding the choice his caretakers had made in not clothing him after the hasty and quite crude surgery which had taken place. Luckily, the only one who had been given leave to be in the garden now was Nenniach, and Haldir finally decided it could have been much, much worse.
“Alright, I have an idea.” Nenniach placed the pitcher in the grass near the place Haldir’s head rested and lowered herself to the ground in front of him. Haldir finally opened his eyes, blinking them until his sight was fairly clear. “You have seen birds feed their young, have you not?”
Haldir raised a brow at her, still able to look completely unamused about the situation regardless of the position he was in. “I do not think I like where this is headed.”
Nenniach ignored him, cupping one hand as she poured water from the pitcher into it until she had a small pool of it in her palm. “Open your mouth.”
“Please, Nen, let me keep what is left of my dignity and find another way to do this,” pleaded Haldir.
“You have two options, dear. You may keep either your dignity or your thirst. I promise you, I shall tell no one of anything which transpires in this garden.”
Haldir lifted his head what little he could, tilting his chin up. “Not a single word. Not even to my mother.” Nenniach nodded as she lifted her fingertips to Haldir’s mouth so that he could drink.
“Much better,” he said when half of the pitcher was empty. “Thank you.”
Nenniach nodded, dabbing at the drops of water on Haldir’s chin and arms with the sleeve of her dress. “Would you like to talk?” This had been the question posed many times since his return to the woods, and was once again answered negatively.
“I would like it if you were to sing again. What was that sad song you were humming before? I wonder what the words mean.”
“Perhaps later I might tell you,” said Nenniach, settling against the trunk of a nearby tree. “But I shall sing for you, if that is what you wish.”
“It is,” he answered, closing his eyes as she began a merry tune. He did not yet have the strength or courage to speak with anyone regarding not only what had happened, but what would happen now. Valarda had not returned with Orophin, that much he was certain of. The presence of his brothers and his nephew he could not feel in Lorien, nor had he seen them since the day he had returned. Worse still, the knowledge that he had not seen either of his parents since that day nagged at him as well. He also had the strangest desire – nay, need – to look into the mirror, not twenty paces away.
Little less than an hour later, he had a nagging feeling about something quite different.
“Nenniach?” he finally called out, interrupting her between songs.
“What is it, dear?”
Haldir blinked his eyes open again as he raised his head slightly. “I was just thinking...I mean, I drank all of that water...eventually...I’m going to have to...what are we going to do about that?”
The corners of Nenniach’s mouth twitched as she fought desperately against smiling. “We shall cross that bridge when we come to it, dear.”
“Oh, good. You’re as clueless as I am about that.” He settled his head down, resting the his cheek on his arms, for his neck was getting a bit sore. He tried to roll it back to alleviate the discomfort he felt, but his back would have none of it, and he rested once again.
“Worry not. I shall think of something,” promised Nenniach, moving close enough so that she could rub the back of his neck. “As a nana, I have been called upon many times to achieve near impossible tasks, and I am confident that I will...figure something out.”
Haldir smirked, thinking of some of the ‘impossible tasks’ he had heard about through Rumil throughout the years. His mind finally turned away from thoughts on war, and he fell peacefully asleep.