Misfits

Part 8

Posted: August 2003
Author: Kharessa Bloodrose

*****

"Word has it that you're now teaching remedial archery and menacing librarians in the forest, brother!" Rumil grinned broadly at Haldir from where he perched cross-legged on the kitchen table, working blue ribbons into his braids. Haldir scowled.

"I was not menacing him."

"Ah, so the rumors are only half right." He tied off the end of one plait and began another one. "Now, I've heard several versions of this. I'm hoping the one that involves your bow, his ear, and your tongue is the true story."

Haldir swore colorfully, and Rumil burst into gales of laughter. The ribbon slipped through his fingers, and he paused in his efforts, resting his hands on his thighs and allowing the braid to come loose as he tried to regain control of himself. Haldir's face had turned brick red; it was clear that elder brother was not amused.

"Have they nothing better to do with their time? I marked each of them, Rumil; it wouldn't be any great difficulty to see them posted where only the birds and squirrels will have to endure their mindless chatter."

"Oh, for the love of the Valar, Haldir!" Rumil exclaimed. His laughter had tapered off, and he cast his brother an impatient glance as he returned to his braiding. "You knew you weren't alone. Did you really think no one would talk? You might as well have grabbed him at midday in the market place."

It crossed Haldir's mind to remind Rumil that he could just as easily join the three gossiping defenders at Lothlorien's furthest border, but he refrained. It was comments like these that had precipitated much of the domestic tension in their household over the years. Haldir made a conscious effort to leave his duties behind when he came home from the borders or the palace, but sometimes his temper got the better of him.

"I could see that he was embarrassed," Haldir said shortly, staring stolidly past Rumil to the unremarkable kitchen wall. Rumil glanced up from his busy fingers, casting Haldir a quizzical glance.

"Melpomaen?"

"Aye. And Arwen… well, you know Arwen. She doesn't embarrass."

"No, indeed." Rumil chuckled. "It's a shame she was born a princess. I can think of half a dozen lifestyles that would suit her better."

Haldir shrugged. It wasn't Arwen whom he was interested in, and Rumil picked up on his distracted indifference. He pointed at one of the kitchen chairs. "Sit. Tell me about it."

"Arwen wanted him to take a turn with her bow, and it was obvious that was the last thing he wanted to do." Haldir sank tiredly into the chair, resting his elbows on the table near Rumil's knee. "And, Rumil, it hurt watching him with that bow. I mean it was actively painful. She'd taught him how to handle it, and…," Haldir shook his head, let his chin sink into his hands.

Rumil hid his smile. He could well imagine the sight Melpomaen must have made, and could understand the hysterical glee of the surreptitiously watching guardians. Under different circumstances, Haldir would have shared in that glee, but Rumil decided it would be best not to point this out.

"And I knew he wouldn't have been so damned embarrassed if I hadn't been there." His eyes turned upward to his brother's face, and Rumil could read discomfort and embarrassment of his own in their hazel depths. "Because… well, you know. I'm…" Haldir's eyes returned to the tabletop, and he flinched in surprise a moment later when Rumil's index finger abruptly appeared an inch from his nose.

"Don't. Don't even say it, Haldir," Rumil said earnestly. "Not after all of these years of hearing you tell me, Orophin, and anyone in earshot that you're Oromë's gift to the Galadhrim, the best, the brightest, and on and on and on. If you tell me you felt badly because you're an expert archer, I will scream like a maiden."

Haldir blushed as he pushed his brother's finger out of his face. A bashful smile curved his lips, and Rumil blinked in surprise. He'd seen many emotions cross Haldir's features, but this shyness was a first.

"Alright, then, I won't. There has been enough talk today without having our neighbors wondering what terrible things I am doing to you."

"And what makes you think they would assume that it's me screaming?" Rumil asked brightly, and Haldir laughed. Tension lifted from his features and he leaned back in the chair.

"Well, at any rate, I felt badly for him, and so I tried to help him."

"And would that help have been such that stories which include ears and tongues might be extrapolated from it?" Rumil asked. He'd finished with his braids and now sat facing his brother, elbows on knees. Haldir colored more brightly yet.

"He made a comment, said that I might as well be shooting for him. And so… well, I did."

"Oh, yes, I can see where that story came from!" Rumil's eyes danced with amusement. "Though he is on the short side; I imagine you wouldn't have been able to reach much more than his ear tip."

"Rumil!" Haldir's shocked tone brought on a renewed wave of laughter. "I did nothing of the sort. And he's not short. It's only that I'm tall, and he's… he's… slight of stature."

"He's short!" Rumil crowed, clutching his stomach. "Please stop, Haldir, I don't know if I'll ever recover!" He wiped his streaming eyes, managing to limit his merriment to the occasional chuckle. "And how did he react?"

"He didn't object," Haldir said evasively.

"No, I wouldn't think so," Rumil smirked. "You do know that I'm aware that you two haven't been playing cards all night in your room, don't you?"

Haldir attempted a glare, but was unable to hold the stern expression. His lips quivered in the beginnings of a smile, and he glanced away. "Well, I'd suspected that you'd guessed as much."

"Orophin is not going to know what to make of this." Rumil shook his head in mock sadness. Haldir blinked.

"I'd completely forgotten! He's due to come home tomorrow."

"You really have been distracted." Rumil arched an eyebrow. "I think this is the first time you've ever forgotten the schedule. Need I mark the day on the calendar when you're due to return to duty?"

"No, I remember that date." Animation abruptly faded from Haldir's face. Rumil frowned, concerned.

"This is serious, isn't it?" he asked, and Haldir darted him a quick glance before looking away.

"I really don't know, Rumil." Haldir sighed heavily. "I do know that I wish he wasn't leaving so soon, and that I wish I were not, either."

Rumil had never known Haldir to be eager to return to the city, nor displeased to be leaving it. Still, he said nothing, pursing his lips and appearing to consider the matter. At last he spoke.

"I know that when I return from the borders that Liian will be here."

Haldir cast him an impatient look. "And I know that when I return Melpomaen will be in Imladris."

"Not necessarily." Rumil's tone turned philosophical. "Lord Elrond is not the only elf with a library, you know. And then there's Arwen. Will she be staying?"

"I don't know. What difference does that make?"

"Well, if Arwen stays she might like it if her good friend from home stayed with her for a while. I've gathered that no one seems to object to their friendship."

"No, Lord Elrond is fairly lenient, and, in all honesty, it seems to me that Erestor is the only one who even notices that Melpomaen is there." His expression darkened, but once again Rumil made no comment. "Still, Lady Galadriel might feel differently, though I think Lord Celeborn is more of Elrond's opinion on it."

"Don't borrow trouble, Haldir," Rumil said. "Talk to Arwen."

Haldir nodded slowly. "I think I'll do that." He frowned, glancing down at his hands. "Do you love Liaan?" he asked abruptly, and Rumil smiled.

"I don't know. Does it matter?"

"Well, I don't know. Maybe, if she has expectations of you."

"If she has any, she hasn't shared them with me." Rumil shrugged. "I don't like trying to guess what may or may not happen one hundred years hence. It's a waste of time and energy, Haldir." He licked his lips, considering his next words carefully. "If you're thinking of Melpomaen, might I say that perhaps you're being a little premature in your worries?"

"It's only that I don't know what he's thinking," Haldir said dully, and this time it was Rumil's turn to sigh.

"No, you don't, and you never will, and that's all there is to that. It's why people talk to each other, Haldir." Rumil smirked. "Though if you ask him how he'd like to decorate a talan with you five hundred years from now, he may well run screaming into the night."

Haldir's eyes flew wide with alarm, and Rumil stifled a chuckle. "I'm only saying that you should relax a little, and work with what you do know."

"Oh? And what is it that I do know at this moment?" Haldir asked in a tone tinged with impatience.

"Well, you know he's an archivist who can almost handle a bow, and, from that you can deduce that tonight he's going to be a very sore and aching archivist. I bet he'd love it if you paid him a visit, maybe with a bottle of massage oil."

Haldir's eyes lit up, and a broad smile brightened his face. "I never thought of that! Thank you, Rumil!"

Rumil laughed. "I'm a veritable well-font of wisdom, dear brother."

Haldir rolled his eyes as he rose from his seat. "I don't know how I would manage without you."

"Oh, neither do I," Rumil replied airily. "Where are you going?"

Haldir shot him a disbelieving look. "To get ready for tonight, of course." He turned and left the room, and Rumil watched, grinning. Orophin would be surprised, indeed.

*****

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