And in the greatest indifference, I shall publish this little side story. Haldir is the best.

I do not own the Lord of the Rings, and am making no profit out of this story.

In fair Lothlorien, it is said that on such a fine day, when the air is scented and cool, and the sun shines freckles of gold onto the stream, elves liked to occupy themselves with the noble arts of song writing and picture painting.

Such was not the case in the house of Imladion and his wife Gwilwileth, as both spouses were each sprawled over the sofas in their sitting room, Lord Imladion's head tilting back dangerously as sleep attempted to claim him, and lady Gwilwileth, one arm above her head, and a leg resting on the back of her sofa, had long abandoned such a fight.

In the centre of the room, on the floor, three young elleths, two as fair as the other was dark, were laid on their front, their hands having forgotten all of the sewing needles and fine fabrics spread before them. Upon sighting them, and having been told two were related, any newcomer would have guessed that the two golden haired girls were sisters. However, Mîriel, whose eyes held the same azure quality to them than that of her mother's, was in fact related to Auriel, the dark skinned, dark haired elleth. Mellyrn, for that was the name of the third elleth, was but a family friend. She had been named after the golden trees of Lothlorien, and the name suited her greatly, for the gold in her hair was matched by the golden rim encircling the pupils of her blue eyes. Mellyrn was known locally as a great beauty, one to rival the lady Galadriel herself, and such a reputation could have turned her head had she not possessed such sense, and such quickwitted friends.

Mîriel, who, at barely 100 years old, was by Elven standards only just reaching maturity, yawned without grace, stood then left the room to collect some fresh water for herself and the other two. Desprite her being the youngest, Mîriel was the first to have found love, in the person of Beleg, a childhood friend. Anyone who knew them had known for quite so time that these two would wed, but, Gwilwileth being of a traditional background, it was thought impossible for Mîriel to marry before the eldest of the household. Said eldest, Auriel, her dark hair unbraided as usual, rolled onto her back and shut her eyes for a shirt snooze, for that was a trait she had inherited from her Edain blood. Mellyrn was absentmindedly playing with the end of a ribbon, little bits of silver thread escaping it and catching the light.

Such a peaceful afternoon was brutally interrupted by a loud crash from the kitchen, followed the furious tapping of bare feet on wood as Mîriel ran back into the room, agitation and upset colouring all her features.

"Lord Haldir is here!" She cried, waking all elves present. "He's here!" She repeated, when all failed to move at urgently as she'd expected.

Lady Gwilwileth was the first to react, sitting up abruptly and already smoothing out cushions and dresses.

"The Marchwarden?"she questioned, breathless. "Is he alone?"

"I do not know, I believe so!" Replied Mîriel.

"By the Valar," cried Gwilwileth, pulling the other two girls to their feet, then tapping her husband's cheek to wake him. "Everyone, sit down, no, stand, no! Sit, but look busy."

"Should I show him in?" Timidly inquired Mellyrn.

"No. Yes." The lady slowed her breathing. "Yes, please, Mellyrn. But not too fast."

Gwilwileth joined her husband on the blue sofa, as Auriel and Mîriel seated themselves in the silver one, each a pair of sewing needle and a little bit of fabric displayed over their knees. All elves were facing the two armchairs opposite, and all watched the door expectantly.

"...through here, please, milord."

Mellyrn returned, followed by the imposing, stern figure of the Marchwarden. All elves stood at his arrival, and he bowed to them.

"Milady Gwilwileth," the deep voice, so calm and distant, greeted each of them in turn. "Lord Imladion. Milady Mîriel, Milady Auriel."

"Lord Haldir" greeted Gwilwileth, her eased countenance at extraordinary contrast with the agitation she had just displayed moments before.

"Haldir!" Joyfully called Imladion, who had himself trained Lord Haldir before he took his place as Chief Marchwarden.

"Lord Haldir," greeted the two elleths in a quiet voice.

All were soon seated again, and the ladies present were grateful for Imladion's obvious delight in handling all conversation with their sinister guest. Auriel, grateful for the chance to remain quiet, took this opportunity to study the Marchwarden. It wasn't that he was mean, and disagreeable, but there was something about him, something stern, unflinching, grave, aged, perhaps, or rather, experienced, something which put her ill at ease. The proud face, the haughty look, the strong shoulders, the rigid back, all these elements added to Lord Haldir's overall look of cold and indifference. Maybe even slight condescension. What must he think of her, the adopted niece, the dark skinned easterling whose blood was mixed with that of Men. She still remembered, when, as a young girl, she was brought to the borders of Lorien by her eastern kin, where Haldir himself had recognised her Elven heritage. The Lord Celeborn had identified her as the kin of Leflan, her father, an elf, who had died of a grieving heart when Auriel's mother, a human easterling, had ended their marriage, frightened by his immortality. She had been eighty years old then, a young girl by Elven standards, but she had already seen her mother age and die, and her brothers and cousins and childhood friends had aged and their hair had turned grey and lines had deformed their faces as hers remained unchanged.

Haldir had asked her name then, first in Sindarin, then in Westron, and eventually in Easterling, but she had pretended not to know it. She was infinitely grateful for the elves's protection, and acceptance, but her name she had kept secret, all these years, as the one last thing she only possessed, the one human, easterling thing she would not give up. Auriel remembered, as she was brought to the house of Imladion, a distant uncle, and the Marchwarden's hand was iron like on her shoulder. Her uncle named her Auriel, daughter of sunlight, for she hailed from a place where the sun never failed to burn the barren deserts. She'd met the Warden's eyes one last time, over her shoulder, as her uncle led her inside, and it would not be for another twenty or thirty years before she had seen him again. She'd interpreted the look in his eyes as disdain, and the impression had stuck with her. They had met a few times, never alone, and the past two centuries she had exchanged with him only perhaps a couple of sentences.

And here he was, now, sitting in her favourite armchair.

Mellyrn was seated next to the Marchwarden, and Auriel lost herself in the contemplation of her friend, her beauty so flamboyant, and probably further accentuated by their friendship. Would these two make a nice couple? She pondered, looking at the two elves seated opposite her. Her friend was much kinder and gentler than Lord Haldir, but then again, perhaps he had a soft side to him, which he would reveal to a wife, a lover... She studied him again, this time more intensely. Was there a loving side to him? What would it look like?

He caught her staring, and she blushed, not having had the time nor the level head to save herself.

"...if you'll excuse me, I'll only be a moment."

To everyone's dismay, Imladion left the room to retrieve some wine, and all the ladies had no choice but to face Lord Haldir on their own.

The silence stretched and Haldir remained unfaltering, so much so that Gwilwileth was the first to break.

"I better go and assist my oaf of a husband, if you'll excuse me-"

"Mother!" Implored Mîriel.

"Auriel, dear, make some conversation darling, what is Lord Haldir to think of us?" Cried Gwilwileth as she left the room.

Put on the spot, Auriel turned to Lord Haldir and her eyes caught Mellyrn's, in a desperate plea for help.

"Tis Lord Elored's wedding soon, is it not?" Supplied her friend.

"Yes!" Cried the other, perhaps too enthusiastically. "In a fortnight, is it not?"

She had no idea why she'd directed the question at Lord Haldir, for the Marchwarden disappeared on missions for months on end and therefore rarely kept up to date with social events, but he very kindly humoured her nonetheless.

"I believe so."

"What will you be wearing, Mellyrn?" Desperate now, Auriel turned to her friend again.

"The bride is wearing gold, I believe," provided her friend. "So we ought not to pick it."

"Oh, what a shame!" Cried Mîriel. "I was going to wear gold. Beleg has told me before that gold really befits me."

"Well, what of the groom?" Enquired Auriel, mentally kicking herself for the ill chosen topic. There was no way Haldir, a soldier, could find any interest in the subject of dresses and colours.

"The groom wears silver," replied Haldir, surprising everyone.

"Do you know Lord Elored well, milord?" Mellyrn asked the question the other two were too stunned to utter.

"I do. He is a warden, I trained him myself, about a century or so ago. He has been a dear friend of mine ever since."

This was met with further consternation on the ladies' parts. Unable to handle the tension, Auriel's nerves gave way and she let out an inappropriate giggle.

"I'm sorry," she apologised as both Lord Haldir and Mellyrn raised an eyebrow at her in perfect synchronisation. "It is simply... Unexpected."

"For me to count Lord Elored as a dear friend?" Said Haldir, unforgiving.

For you to have friends at all, nearly said Auriel, but she caught herself.

"I do not mean this in... What I mean, is that Lord Elored appears rather..." Fun? "Sociable. And you yourself,milord Haldir, seem..." Boring? "Soldier like."

"Soldier like?" There was derision in his voice, and Auriel felt urged to defend herself.

Ignoring the looks of utter horror the other two elleths were directing at her, Auriel bravely continued: "well, you are, after all, the chief Marchwarden. Lord Elored is a warden too, true, but he seems to engage in conversation and dance and song quite often and quite readily, whereas you seem more... Distant." He frowned. "No, not distant, um... Serious."

There were a few moments of silence, broken by Lord Haldir:

"Is that how you see me, lady Auriel?"

At a loss, Auriel was infinitely grateful for Mîriel's intervention.

"Well, in that case, I believe we ought to wear blue." Declared Mîriel. "If they are going to keep silver and gold to themselves, it is only fair. Oh, Lord Haldir, you ought to listen to Auriel when she speaks of the wedding celebrations in the east, they sound so incredibly exciting!"

As she spoke, Mîriel began tapping at Auriel's arm as fast as the flapping wings of a hummingbird, but not actually letting the other a chance to get involved in the telling:

"Oh it is so exciting, all the ladies wear very bright colours and gold bangles and everyone dances in the desert, under the stars, and the bride and groom wear red! And when it is not red, it is pink, and yellow, but not light shades as we do here, but really bright and vibrant shades. Did I say everyone dances? All one does is eat and dance and drink wine for three days and three nights, isn't that right Auriel?"

"Yes," breathes Auriel, slightly embarrassed at having been found out talking about the east. As understanding and kind as Imladion and Gwilwileth had been, it had been a given that Auriel was not to mention her past life as a desert vagabon.

"Oh Auriel, I cannot remember, did you say the ladies or the men wear black on their eyes?"

"Mîriel!"

"Both, I believe," replied Haldir, surprising everyone once again. "During my missions outside of this realm, I have had the pleasure to travel to the east." He explained, to Auriel only.

"Wouldn't Auriel look lovely in a bright blue dress, with gold on her arms?" Asked Mîriel. "Wouldn't she, Lord Haldir? With her colour of skin and hair? And perhaps some back around her strange eyes?"

Auriel's eyes were a brown green, and she cast them down, enraged at her cousin's lack of shame.

"Indeed." Conceded Haldir, civil as always. "Though, I do not believe it would be possible for lady Auriel not to look lovely."

The declaration, so unbelievably out of character, so unexpected, so odd it almost sounded like a jibe, successfully stunned the whole room into shocked silence, Lord Haldir included.

"Are you mocking me?" Questioned Auriel, all rules of hospitality and politeness forgotten, just as Gwilwileth and Imladion chose to enter the room again, one carrying wine and cups, the other a tray covered with delicacies.

"Here we are!" Chanted the lady, oblivious.

"Forgive me, but I must take my leave. I have abused your hospitality for too long." Lord Haldir stood, and Auriel felt a weight had been relieved from her chest.

"Haldir!" Cried Imladion in protest.

"I do apologise," said Haldir, as he stood. Was he embarrassed?

Auriel heard him leave, pursued by her aunt, and at the last second her resolve fell into place and she chased after him.

"Lord Haldir!"

He was by the door already, leaving their tarlan. Auriel flew past Gwilwileth and chased him a few feet past their home, where he finally stopped and turned around.

"Lord Haldir! Please," she stopped and caught her breath. Lord Haldir stood motionless, avoiding her gaze, but not making a move to leave.

"Forgive me, milord." Said Auriel. "I should not have accused you thus, it was... Most uncalled for. I realise you were not mocking me, but simply being kind. Please accept my deepest apologies."

Haldir opened his mouth, then closed it, then again. It was a rare sight indeed, to see him losing his perfect countenance, and Auriel just stared back.

"It was not kindness," he said, finally, at which Auriel frowned. "Forgive me, it seems I am doomed to being misunderstood by you, today." He smoothed out his tunic, straightened his shoulders. He was a good two heads taller than her. "I- forgive me."

"It is all forgiven," assured Auriel, relieved. "But only if you forgive me too, for my lack of manners."

"Of course." He scowled. "There is nothing to forgive."

"Good day."

"Good day."

Auriel made to leave, but Lord Haldir called her back.

"Milady Auriel. If I may- " he seemed at a loss for words, and eventually appeared to settle for the most straightforward option. "May I hope to claim your attention at Lord Elerod's wedding celebration? For a dance, perhaps?"

"A dance?" Asked Auriel, baffled.

Faced with her rude incredulity, he carried on: "or at least, a conversation. As I have said earlier, I have travelled east recently, and hope to perhaps offer you some news of your kin."

"That would be most kind, thank you." There was true gratitude in her voice. "I shall see you there. Lord Haldir."

"Milady Auriel." His voice held a softer edge to it as he bowed, then he took his leave, and Auriel returned home, to be greeted by the excited cackle of Gwilwileth.