Notice: After hearing back from several reviewers, I feel that I must include a warning to those picking up this story. As I have previously stated on my profile, I STICK METICULOUSLY TO CANON (in this case, movie canon). This story fits into the plot of Two Towers. Therefore, everything that happens on screen, happens in this story (yes, that means what you think it means for Haldir), and everything that is fanfiction happens in the off-screen time of this character. I don't want anyone to feel duped or tricked into reading something they do not wish to read. However, if you enjoy a good romance, with plenty of action, and perhaps a bit of Game Of Thrones style drama, PLEASE continue! :-) Thanks again for reading!

Haldir breathed deep, allowing his lungs to fill to capacity, then exhaled as he pulled back the string of his bow, the feathers at the end grazing his cheek lightly before he aimed his sight down the length of his arrow. He kept his back straight, shoulders back, and waited until he heard the tell-tale creak as his bow reached its zenith. He eased out one more carefully measured breath, his lips pursed as if he were blowing all of the tension from his body. When his breath was fully exhaled, he held his lungs in abeyance, knowing that any intake or release of oxygen would disrupt his aim. After only a moment's hesitation, he released the arrow with a flick of his fingertips, and it shot true. Within the blink of an eye, the target nearly a mile away made a satisfying thud, Haldir's arrow sinking deep within dead center. Quiet clapping ensued, and he held his chin high, not out of arrogance but unassuming pride in his own skill. The troop of cadets behind him was smiling as their instructor turned, the slightest curve of a grin upon his lips. He caught the glance of the only remaining elleth of the group, a fierce young woman by the name of Cynda.

"Very well done, Haldir," Celeborn said from his vantage point slightly above the aligned cadets, pulling Haldir's attention back to his duties. All of the cadets glanced up in wonder at the Lord of the Golden Wood and his Lady, who stood quietly on a slightly higher platform in their giant mellyrn tree. The Lord and Lady's presence was incredibly rare at the training of cadets, but as this particular group had been hand-picked by Haldir himself, they thought it wise to take an interest in their future guardians' progress.

"However," Celeborn said as he descended the few steps between his platform and the next. "Conditions will not always be so favorable. I know you all can shoot, otherwise you would not have made it this far in your training. I daresay some of you could even split your instructor Haldir's arrow right now," he said with a teasing grin, to which Haldir returned an even more self-assured smile. "But you must learn to shoot a target upon horseback. The wind against your hand, pelting rain in your eyes. You must know that your arrow will strike true, even if you cannot guarantee it with your senses," he turned to Haldir, his expression stern. He held his arms straight out, chanting in elvish, and within moments, the wind in the trees blew fiercely, tearing leaves from their branches. Haldir loaded another arrow, and pulled back on the string. As he aimed, Celeborn threw all his might into his magic. The wind did not remain a constant speed, and it whipped frantically back in different directions. The cadets marveled at Haldir's composure, as his grip changed ever so slightly with every adjustment of the wind. His aim seemed to anticipate the changing conditions. He breathed out again, just as he had before, and released his arrow seemingly far to the right. The wind changed just as he released, and carried his arrow to split the one before it. The wind halted almost instantaneously, and all the cadet's eyes darted to the target. Haldir could not contain his smile as the cadets released exalted whispers. Celeborn looked genuinely impressed.

"And that, cadets, is why he leads our northern guard," he said with a slight nod of appreciation, which Haldir returned graciously.

Just as Celeborn went to climb the stairs to his platform once more, Galadriel moved to the stairs with almost frightening determination. Celeborn stopped and watched her descend toward Haldir, a slow smile gracing his lips. He knew his Lady too well.

"Very well done, My Lord Celeborn," she said softly, her voice commanding the attention of anyone within earshot. "A difficult shot for even the finest archer, indeed," she said, and Celeborn climbed the remaining stairs, his smile never vanishing. "Haldir, do you mind?" she asked, motioning that she would like to demonstrate another difficult shot for the cadets. Haldir answered by loading another arrow and pulling back the string. Galadriel did not move, did not so much as twitch a finger. Her eyes remained trained on Haldir, the intensity in them enough to force the cadets to step back in anticipation. After the chaos of Lord Celeborn's screaming wind, Galadriel was, in contrast, deafeningly silent. Haldir, however, had already hesitated longer than his previous shot. With some shock, the cadets realized his grip on his bow was loose, and his other hand, poised on the outstretched string, was beginning to tremble. He attempted to calm himself, but his breath in was shaky and shallow. He blinked several times, just before he lowered his bow dejectedly. Some of the cadets gasped in disbelief, looking frantically from Lady Galadriel, who seemed calm and collected, to Haldir, clearly shaken. His entire body seemed to tremble from some unseen force as he stared down at his lowered bow.

Suddenly he raised his aim, and loosed his arrow almost immediately. It hit the target, but it was almost off the left side entirely. The difference between a kill and an escaped enemy.

The cadets stood in stunned silence. Not even the wrath of nature had swayed Haldir's aim. And yet Lady Galadriel had reduced the master archer to a trembling mess.

"Fear not, cadets," came Celeborn's voice, accompanied by a chuckle as he descended the stairs once more. "I assure you… You will never face anything like the Lady Galadriel," he smiled proudly, placing his hand on her back tenderly. She smiled at him, and glanced back at Haldir, who was staring at his botched arrow nearly a mile away. "And do not fret my friend," Celeborn said, placing a hand on Haldir's shoulder. "It is not a testament of your weakness, but rather a demonstration of her power," he squeezed Haldir's shoulder reassuringly, as if to express his deepest empathy. He had most assuredly felt the full force of Galadriel's power many times.

Celeborn turned to address the cadets. "You are dismissed. Trials begin in a fortnight. I suggest you train together, and practice firing under duress," Celeborn said, and the cadets slowly disbanded. All headed for the trees and their respective homes. All but one.

Haldir remained even after the Lord and Lady and all cadets had gone. He knew Celeborn's words were true. Not even the prince of Mirkwood could have made that shot. Galadriel had simply wanted to exemplify that with fortitude, not perfection, they would find their targets. He just could not shake the aftermath of Galadriel's magic. He fired several more arrows, just to reassure his own convictions. All hit the bulls-eye, but somehow he still felt emasculated. He rested his bow against the railing of the stairs, only to find another set of weapons already there. He recognized the bow as Cynda's. He glanced around for the cadet, and only found a distant thunder of hooves to evidence her departure from Caras Galadhon. Where could she be going at sunset? He decided his muscles were still far too stimulated from Galadriel's mental attack. He felt as though electricity had just coursed over his flesh, leaving him twitchy. He had grown to care for his cadets, after all, and didn't see any reason to remain within the city when one of them had left without her bow. He could go for a late patrol. In the direction Cynda had gone.

He found his white stallion, Quellson, in the stables and mounted without a saddle or bridle. He manipulated the horse simply with a twitch of his thumb against its withers and his legs on its sides. He galloped from the doors, and quickly found Cynda's trail. An elf rarely leaves a trail, but even the lightest horse leaves hoof prints.

He followed her until he could no longer detect her moving with his sensitive elf ears. She had stopped several miles ahead of him. He dismounted and patted Quellson on the neck. He would find his way home.

His footfalls were almost undiscernible as he raced ahead on foot. He had forgotten the joy he felt in his beloved forest. He had not been running through these woods simply for the pleasure in a very long time. He almost lost himself as the cool, damp air brushed his long hair from his face, and the scent of grass and pine met his senses. At least, until he caught the scent of blood.

He followed the scent, until he found the source. A single deer under a large tree, and a wildcat, dead beside it, a knife in its heart. Cynda knelt beside the deer, her hands hovering over a claw wound on its hindquarters. She was chanting quietly, and Haldir quietly ascended the nearest tree. He concealed his presence, curious to see what Cynda would do.

She moved her hands in circles over the wound, uttering soft words in elvish, and soon the deer began to move beneath her. The animal's kin began to emerge from the forest, unafraid of the elf hovering over their fallen comrade. Soon an entire herd of the woodland deer encircled Cynda, until finally she removed her hand and the deer sprinted from her, its life restored. Without hesitation, she pulled her knife from the fallen wildcat, sheathed it, and went sprinting after the deer. Haldir began to leap along with her, staying to the boughs of the trees. He didn't know why he continued to follow her, she was clearly in no danger, but for some reason he couldn't pull his eyes away from her. The way she sprinted, keeping pace with the deer. It was as if she had become one with this forest. She would make an excellent marchwarden.

Finally, after several miles of bounding gleefully, Cynda slowed and allowed the deer to separate from her. Without another thought, they disappeared into the growing darkness. Surely she would turn back toward Caras Galadhon. The woods were growing dangerous at night. Rumors of great wolves and Orc armies had spread across the realms of men. Haldir feared that his beloved wood might soon be under the spell of a growing evil that all had felt but none would dare name.

But instead, she turned away, and began walking purposefully north. Haldir jumped lithely from tree to tree, always slightly behind her. He followed as the sun set the canopies of the trees alight with a glow of red and orange. He had spent many a night beneath these trees, but he knew many of the young elves had never strayed from Caras Galadhon. As her commanding officer, he could not simply leave her and ignore her trek into the deep of the Lothlorien forest.

She finally came to a halt at a small pond, which was filled by a slow waterfall at the northern end. Haldir knew this pond. He would water his horse here on his way from Caras Galadhon to the northern border.

Cynda stood for only a moment at the water bank, then ascended the short outcropping of rocks to the top of the waterfall. She tossed her knife and sheath away, then removed her knee high boots. Haldir's heart jumped as he realized what she was doing. Leave. This is most improper. You are her commanding officer. You must go, now. His mind knew what he should do. But his defiant feet remained perched on his branch, behind a bushel of thick leaves. You are many years older than she. Go, now. But just as she began to peel away her cloak, he realized how long it had been since he had gazed upon a woman. He had lived for so long; his life as of late had been staggeringly devoid of contact, both emotional and physical. He spent all of his time in the forest, with only a small company of marchwarderns, how could he possibly create any lasting connections with anyone?

Cynda threw her cloak down with her boots and pulled her armored undershirt over her head. She peeled her leggings down along the curve of her hips and before long, stood completely nude. Haldir's breath caught in his throat as he beheld the sight of her. His admiration was not of a sexual nature, though he could not deny she was so perfectly proportioned that it pained him. She was simply a divine elleth, the likes of which he could not recall having seen in a very long time. Her porcelain skin was smooth and glowed like the ancient white gems of their ancestors. The curve of her body, from the side of her breasts to her hips, seemed to catch the moonlight as she waded into the ankle-deep water at the crest of the waterfall. She reached up and pulled her long golden hair from its band, and ran her fingers through it, freeing it from the traditional warrior's braid. She turned slightly to gaze over the edge of the waterfall, and he swallowed hard as he observed her in all her magnificence. Her breasts were small, but with a slight curve beneath them. Her body was strong, that of a woodland elf who had long run beneath the canopies to the silence of her own footsteps. His mouth hung open in awe, and he couldn't help the shallow breaths escaping from his lips.

Cynda dove suddenly from the waterfall, and disappeared with not so much as a splash beneath the water's black surface. She remained below just long enough that he started to worry, until she surfaced gracefully, running her hands over her wet hair and pushing it from her face. She breathed deep, and lay back, floating her body on the water's surface. The contrast of the night-darkened water and her moonlit body sent a chill down his spine. He was beginning to feel something deep inside himself that he had not felt since he was very young. His grip on the branch of his tree tightened instinctively. He watched her slowly kick her feet, her body creating little ripples of moonlight across the water's surface. She stood when she got closer to one of the banks, the water only coming up to her waist. Sparkling droplets of water beaded around her shoulders, and slowly, torturously, made their way down her flesh to drip from her exposed breasts. Haldir shut his eyes tight, trying desperately to remember his position. When he opened them again, Cynda had braided several water lilies into her hair, now a long single braid, which she pulled over her shoulder to drape down her chest. She emerged from the water, her long legs moving in slow, measured steps. The visage of her wet, naked form sent another shudder through him, making him curse his own body.

Cynda gathered her clothes and one by one, slipped each garment on with care. She sat on a rock near the shore, her back to him, and slid on her boots. Her voice emerged, a shock against the quiet reverie of the forest.

"Haldir," she said, barely a whisper, knowing elf ears would hear it. He froze, a panic gripping his lungs and seizing all intake of breath. He immediately thought of Galadriel, and the position she had bestowed upon him. A position of respect. He had betrayed that respect.

"Please, would you join me?" she asked, finishing her boots and standing to turn and stare right into the tree in which he was hiding. He jumped lithely down as she approached him. He kept his eyes trained on the ground. He had insulted this lady enough with his hungry eyes.

"May I offer my humblest of apologies, my lady," he said, bowing low as she came to stand before him. He remained bowed as a request for forgiveness. He would not rise unless she bade it.

"And I will accept, though I do not require it of you, my lord," she said, touching him gently on the shoulder, permission for him to rise. He straightened, somewhat perplexed by her words. He finally gazed into her eyes, and therein found a power akin to that of Lady Galadriel. He could not imagine that even through months of training, he had never looked this one in the eyes. She stunned him to speechlessness.

"I would not require an apology when there has been no affront. If I had been offended, I would not have allowed you to remain,"

Did she know I was there the entire time? Would she have undressed otherwise? The thought of her undressing simply because she knew he was watching… it ignited something inside him that he had to contain, with some discernable effort.

"We are all vulnerable to our passions. Even you, Haldir of Lorien" his eyes flickered down to her exquisite body, now clothed, and he imagined her laid bare once more. She stepped forward, so her breath slithered past his cheeks. He felt his skin growing hot and his heart hammering inside his chest. He fought very hard against the images in his mind. Grabbing her by the arms, pressing her against a tree with the force and the heat of his own body…

"Besides… It is not a testament of your weakness… but a demonstration of my power," she whispered, echoing Lord Celeborn's words. Her lips were so close to his that he had to close his eyes and bite his lip to restrain himself. The suggestion that her power mirrored that of the great elf sorceress, that her flesh held the same influence as Galadriel's stare… he craved to know more of how she could use that power. He felt her fingertips gently graze his chest, and when he opened his eyes, she was gone, so quickly and quietly that he knew there would be no trail to follow. He gasped once, not realizing he had been holding his breath. He gazed out into the dark, and shuddered as the thought of her overtook him once more. He had not felt this way for a woman in many years.

He grinned, excited by the possibilities, and turned, allowing his feet to take him wandering through the moonlit woods. He could catch her, if he so desired. He was much older and far faster than she. He folded his hands behind his back, and allowed the calming air of the forest to fill his lungs. He glanced up to see Caras Galadhon shimmering in the distance. A pang of fear and desperation hit him. A great darkness was coming. All had felt it after the ringbearer's visit to Caras Galadhon. The darkness could swallow everything. But perhaps, just perhaps, he had found a small glimmer of light in the oncoming blackness.

Author's Note:

Okay so... this was only supposed to be a OneShot. Buuuut I like these two together, so I think I'll continue. Keep checking back for more chapters and as always, I love to hear from you guys!