Title & Chapter Number: Guarded 2/?
Author(s): - Author's Index
Fandom: Lord of the Rings
Rating: PG-13 (Will be rated higher in later chapters)
Disclaimer: J.R.R Tolkien and his heirs own Lord of the Rings and the characters he created. I have made no profit from this story.
Warnings: Het fic
Betas: Fianna & Julie
Cast: Haldir/OFC, Orophin, Rúmil, Galadriel, Celeborn, Aragorn, Elrond, Elrohir, Elladan, Arwen
Timeline: Pre-Fellowship to Fourth Age, 3001- 100
Spoilers: Haldir doesn't die.
Summary: Haldir of Lórien has protected the borders of Lothlórien and those of his heart for three thousand years with the utmost vigilance. Indil has learned from bitter experience to protect herself, but also to live as thought the sun will never rise again. Can he remain so well guarded against one who is determined to claim him for herself?
Notes: I loved Haldir when I read the Fellowship of the Ring and I thought that his death in the movie was unjust. This Haldir is a blend of the book and movie character and hopefully it works. There is a listing at the end of this chapter of Sindarin words and phrases.
Chapter Two: Strangers in the Wood
The sound of their footsteps, no matter how lightly tread, seemed to echo throughout the nearby forest to the Elves who sat silent and still in their flets. Dozens of pairs of glittering, ancient eyes watched the progress of the two mortal men as they made their way toward the Nimrodel.
Patches of pale sunlight fell in gleaming columns through the canopy of deep green leaves overhead. Hushed, sweet splashing from the clear stream was like music. The song of sparrows could be heard despite the low, harsh whispering of the strangers as they seemed to argue back and forth. Unknown to either man, grey shadows flitted between the trees on the ground and a net was elegantly woven around them.
Orophin shook his head as he watched the mortal pair pass the tree in which he and his brother perched. "Why do men not seem to understand that the Golden Wood is forbidden?"
Silence greeted him before the other chose to speak. "The race of man is a mystery to me, Muindor," Haldir answered. "Do not look to me for counsel on their foolishness for I have no answers."
Though the youngest of the three brothers, Orophin was second in physical stature after Haldir. He was a bit lankier than his eldest brother, but not as lacking in pure bodily power as most believed. Rúmil, who was the middle child, was slender with delicate, finely carved features, but he too was not one to be trifled with.
Orophin watched his brother signal the others to begin to close in more tightly around the two interlopers as he mulled over his words. A small grin etched his face. "What? The great March Warden of Lórien is mystified by mere mortal men? I am surprised by this considering all the time you spend with that Dúnedain family."
Haldir spared no glance for his brother as he silently descended the tree. "Really, Orophin, this is not the time nor the place to test your wit - or what is left of it."
The younger Elf smothered a laugh behind his hand, but good humor twinkled in his mist-grey eyes.
With no further consideration to his sibling, Haldir folded his hand into a small fist and pressed his lips against the opening. A sound like that of a wild bird echoed eerily through the trees and Elves swiftly surrounded their target.
Finely carved bows were gracefully drawn back with razor-sharp arrows pointed at the heads and bodies of the two trespassers. Neither man moved and both held their hands where they could be seen. The Elves stared at each in turn with eyes that had seen the depths of the ages. There was neither hate nor pity in their expressions and that passive quality brought a greater fear in the mortals than facing a troop of Orcs.
Haldir frowned as he recognized the plain browns and greens that the two companions were garbed in. A moment of concern washed over him as his eyes slid up and down each man's face and form. No spark of recollection fired within his mind and he carefully composed his expression before stepping between Rúmil and Orophin.
"You are trespassing in these woods," he began in a cool, grave tone that left no room for argument. "Lothlórien is forbidden to outsiders by the law of Lord Celeborn and the Lady Galadriel. Leave the way you came and never attempt to enter the Golden Wood again."
The older of the pair was dark-haired and grey-eyed with the hale and vigor of a man in his prime. His hair was ruffled by the wind but he stared unrelenting into the Elf's cold eyes and seemed to notice nothing else. "I am Halbarad of..."
Haldir waved his hand and cut him off. "I know you are of the Dúnedain Rangers of the North for I have seen your people in my travels, but you are still not permitted in these lands. I cannot allow you to pass."
The Dúnedain were all that was left of the Faithful of Númenor and Haldir knew their blighted history as well as he knew that of his own people. Those of that race who carried noble blood were more often than not dark-haired and grey-eyed with a grace that was only slightly less than that of his own kind.
"Lhûg Lam!" The other man shouted with contempt.
He appeared no older than Adarion with the same dark hair that marked the Dúnedain, but instead of the customary grey eyes, the youth possessed those of startling green. There was anger and outrage in his face that soured Haldir upon him immediately. A lack of courtesy was always a bad omen regarding the character of a man in the March Warden's experience.
"Snake tongue?" Haldir questioned harshly. "You assume much, mellon. To trespass onto our land can be punished by death if I see it as necessary." Casting a dark frown on Halbarad, he moved closer to them. There was no fear in him as he knew that any sudden moves would cost the men their lives. "Take the boy and leave or my list of options will grow thin."
Halbarad's expression remained as though set in stone, but his grey eyes slid to his companion and promised the younger man a lecture of epic proportions later. He regarded the situation a moment before speaking. "I understand your position, Haldir of Lórien, but you must understand mine; Lord Elrond has sent me with messages for both my lord, Aragorn, and also the Lady Galadriel."
Haldir's brow rose just slightly, but it was enough to convey his surprise to the other elves. "I have not been notified by the Lady that she is expecting any correspondence from Imladris. That in itself is unusual, but you also use the name of Aragorn in your claim and yet I know he is traveling the upper vales of the Anduin. Would it not be easier to simply take the High Pass? It is more convenient to Imladris than your long travel through Eregion to the Redhorn."
"Aye," Halbarad agreed softly. "And it is plagued with Orcs. I am no liar, Haldir, and I will not be treated as one." The Dúnadan turned and cuffed the youth next to him sharply across the back of the head. "Apologize to the March Warden at once."
The young man's face reddened until his skin resembled the petals of the meril roses that grew in Galadriel's private garden. He bowed his head, but Haldir caught a flash of anger directed at himself. "I am sorry for insulting you and I hope you will not hold it against my brother."
"You are his brother?" Haldir asked incredulously.
Halbarad nodded grimly. "To my everlasting shame at times," he replied with disgust as he removed a thick letter from the pack slung across his shoulder. "This is the message from Lord Elrond to Queen Galadriel. I apologize for Dorlas and his reckless words; we will leave the Wood at once and skirt around them as we head north."
The cream-colored paper was of the very best quality and Haldir knew upon taking it into his hands that the words the Dúnadan spoke were true. "Hold," he replied. "You both are weary and as you said - the paths north are troubled with Orcs. I will allow you to stay the night here in my talan with my brothers and I." Seeing the look of disbelief that crossed that faces of the Elves surrounding him, Haldir's back straightened and he seemed to grow taller than his natural height. "In the morning I will bring you through a lesser known path, blindfolded, and your journey will be eased."
"I thank you," Halbarad replied as he bowed his head in a sign of respect. "Your hospitality will never be forgotten."
Haldir nodded before turning swiftly to face his brothers. The Silvan tongue was just different enough from Sindarin that only a rare few aside from the race of Elves understood the language. He used it often in the presence of outsiders when he needed to give orders. "Watch them like you are eagles of Manwë and send out patrols closer to the border of the forest. I sense something dark drawing near." The shadow had been growing in his mind for some hours and now it seemed to be looming just out of reach. He was unnerved by the sensation and knew in his heart the feeling was a bad portent.
Orophin nodded and let his eyes drift out over the tall, majestic trees that seemed to be reaching toward heaven itself. "I have felt this darkness as well, but my perception is not as keen as is both of yours."
"I will take the first watch," Rúmil stated as he nodded toward four of the ten Elves around them. "You come with me and the rest of you are to go back to your posts unless I signal for you." He looked to his elder brother with unease shimmering in the depths of his eyes. "By your leave."
Haldir smiled and touched his shoulder. "You have it, Rúmil. I will send a messenger to the Lady..."
He froze and closed his eyes as though in agony as the chill of a connection skimmed along his nerves. His eyes opened, but Haldir no longer saw the woods swaying in the breeze or the sun shooting golden arrows of light onto the forest floor.
Instead, he perceived the Lady of Light as she stood before him shining so brightly it seemed that she was clothed in the very radiance of the moon. He was at all times open to his Queen's thoughts and messages and this had been so for thousands of years, but the first brush of her mind against his was always overwhelming. She used this method of communication with him only when in dire need, so he knew without a doubt that she bore ill tidings.
Galadriel stood before him with mournful blue eyes that were so filled with power that no one could withstand the intensity of her gaze for long. She held out her hands beseechingly as she spoke to his mind. "Haldir," her thoughts whispered. "Take the Dúnedain messengers and go to the northeastern border of our lands; there you will meet a troop of guards I have sent you. Take them and march toward the home of Saelben on the Anduin."
"Lady?" He questioned silently.
She held up her hand and stopped him from further questioning as her mind continued speaking to his. "Do not delay for the fortunes of many will be affected forever by the loss of one who dwells there. I have seen great misfortune if the daughter of Saelben perishes. Bring the child to me when you find her, Haldir."
A gasp was torn from his chest as she withdrew from him so quickly that it felt as though a sword had been plunged into his back. He took several deep breaths as he turned to his brothers. Neither of them showed any surprise at his behavior or dismay for they had seen this before.
"The Lady Galadriel wishes for me to take the mortals northeast at once," Haldir frowned before turning toward the two men. "Increase the patrols and send frequent messages to Caras Galadon as I fear that more than Orcs may visit us on this night."
Rúmil cast a sideways glance at his brother as they watched him speak with the Dúnedain. "Do you think such visits affect his mind?"
"No," Orophin answered carefully while suppressing a smile. "I believe mortals create greater havoc with his emotions than does our fair Queen."
Neither dared voice such an opinion and both quickly went about their business as Haldir glanced suspiciously in their direction.
~*~*~*~
The day was so bright that Haldir found his eyes watering in pain as he held his hands before his face. It seemed as though there was no escape from the brilliant white light that threatened to blind him entirely as he stumbled along. A great weariness seemed to weigh down his every step until it felt as though he were trapped in mud up to his knees.
Haldir wanted to scream out his frustration... to curse at the illumination that caused him such pain, but he remained silent.
The glow dimmed a bit until he could see fuzzy shapes around him that resembled shadows more than living beings. Slowly, his eyes adjusted to his surroundings and he found himself in a great hall such as he had never seen before. It rose so high around him that the pillars reaching toward the roof disappeared into a grey mist and no ceiling could be seen. Tapestries covered the stone walls and he recognized some from tales Galadriel had relayed to him about the First Age.
Living shadows that appeared as Elves and mortal men swirled and coalesced at will around him. All appeared sad and introspective as they paced the polished crystal floors and gathered around tapestries. A sense of curiosity and dread mingled within his heart as he stepped forward from the arched doorway in which he stood.
Before he could speak, a great weeping echoed through the room and all the shades of the departed turned toward the sound. It was the wailing of a woman in such distress that it sounded as though her very heart were breaking. Haldir could make out a figure in a black gown kneeling on the floor over a prone body. She also wore a fine cloak that appeared so gossamer-thin that he fancied it to be spun of mist and moth wings.
Murmurs of pity mixed with statements of mourning rang in his ears along with the morose lament of the unknown woman. He found himself drawn forward until he stood directly beside the lady on her knees. Tears ran down his face despite his effort to contain them and he found himself unable to speak with the burden of grief that seemed to suddenly weigh down his heart.
"You have looked into Galadriel's mirror," A soft, delicate female voice whispered. "Will you now look into mine?"
He knew without hesitation that the lady beside him was the source of the voice ringing in the suddenly silent hall. "What will I see?" The words were choked from his tight throat and seemed harsh as they echoed back him from the walls.
"Even the wise cannot tell," she stated matter-of-factly. "The past is often glimpsed by those who carry the burdens of their own memories, the present is seen more by those trapped in the moment with no thought of how their actions affect others, and the future is witnessed by those who are not afraid to face themselves for who they truly are."
"There are fewer still who can perceive all three states," she continued as her tears slowed. "For most cannot look into my mirror at all."
Haldir felt the words on his tongue and could not hold them back a moment longer. "I will look into your mirror, Lady, though I do not relish it."
The cloaked and hooded woman drew back from him like a passing breeze and he came face to face with her mirror.
Sickness roiled in his gut for it was no mirror at all but a young maiden who lay dead upon the beautiful crystal floor with her eyes open wide. She was the most beautiful creature that he had ever seen, with the exception of the Lady Galadriel and her granddaughter, Arwen Undómiel, and he was struck with profound sorrow. Long golden hair the shade of his beloved mallorn leaves fell around her waist in long, thick waves and her skin was as white and flawless as the snow upon the peak of Celebdil. She was clothed in a mantle of what looked to be silver-embroidered blue silk and a simple diadem of silver crossed her smooth brow, but it was her eyes that refused to release him.
They were as blue as the sky on a fair summer day and seemed to be filled with stars. Lights shimmered in their depths like the gleam of fine jewels or sunshine sparkling upon the waters of the Anduin. The radiance pulsed and glittered so that it appeared as though the brightness of the heavens dwelled within her eyes.
Haldir stared deep into the brilliant orbs and cried out at what he saw...
~*~*~*~
A jerk to his left shoulder made Haldir glance quickly to his side. The Dúnadan, Halbarad, sat wrapped in his cloak with an closed expression on his face. Even in the dark, he knew that the other had seen his panic and his own face became a cold mask. "You disturbed my vision."
The words rang hollow and empty between them as they surveyed one another with long, appraising gazes. In the end they both turned toward the dark, flat plateau that lay far beneath them as the earth under their feet sloped ever downward toward the Great River.
"Three days at full speed and still we are a day from Saelben's home," Haldir hissed in frustration. "We must make haste and continue on in a few hours."
Halbarad nodded. "I fear that Dorlas is not as hardy as I, for his mother was from the common people. Could we not leave him here?"
The March Warden glanced over at the sleeping form of the young man. "Nay, I need every strong hand including his once we reach the farmstead. I fear what we might find."
The silence grew thick as each became lost in his own world. The twenty Elves around them sat quietly in the darkness watching for any sign of the enemy. It was Halbarad who broke the stillness first as he shot a strained look at the golden-haired Elf across from him.
"What did you see in your vision that made you cry out?"
Haldir frowned and drew an arrow from the quiver on his back. He studied the finely carved shaft and ran the pad of his forefinger along the white feather fletching. "A vision is sacred to my people and we do not share them easily, but I will tell you that I saw something that confounds me mightily."
Blocking out everything around him, Haldir remembered the sight of Indil standing before him dressed in rags with a large white sphere in her hands that glowed and pulsated as though living. It had cast off more light than anything he had ever seen aside from the sun itself. But that had not made him scream, it was when the orb had begun to glow a hot red that he cried a warning to the little girl.
He had been too late and she burst into a fiery pillar where she stood with the red globe still in her hands. "Valar help me," he murmured in the Silvan dialect. "Do not let me fail her or you."
A solitary bird cried out eerily and Haldir felt a shiver race up his spine.
~*~*~*~
muindor - brother
Lhûg Lam - snake tongue
mellon - friend~*~*~*~
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