AN: I found the majority of this chapter scattered in pieces throughout my junk files, hazzah!

Chapter 15 - They Wait For You

Luna was tired. Tired in a way she could never remember being.

Her mind felt numb, her skin prickling with the odd sensation of awareness of it.

She had said she would never kill again, just as she had told herself that she could handle harm the world could throw at her.

It wasn't pleasant to realise how wrong she was, to realise that such a proclamation was a child's bluster.

Haldir, who sat behind her so she could sleep as they rode, said softly, "You are not weak."

She let out a harsh breath, leaning back into him as if he was an anchor against the storm in her mind.

There was some notion, by the way that Haldir, Legolas, and Harry had managed her, that implied that Haldir was her soulmate.

Which, on the face of it, was ludicrous to her. Not because she didn't believe in such things and perhaps even grander things, but because she didn't think she would have one.

She was always the odd one out, always alone. Even the people who loved her, were apart from her. How could she of all people have a soul match in another person?

And, if she were being truly honest, humans and elves were not the sort of beings she thought would have or respect sister and brother souls.

She had seen it in plenty of animals, but the elves that she met, her brother included, didn't listen well to the magic in their blood.

Haldir made her feel inexplicably safe, but so did Legolas, and she doubted there was a soul deep connection between them.

Haldir stifled a chuckle.

She twisted to look up at him and demanded, "What is it?"

"Your pessimism is quite tangible. I promise that you will be welcome in Lothlorian. Our people may be few to greet you, or they may have already returned victorious from the skirmishes at our borders."

"That's not what I'm worrying about," she lied. She was worried about how she would be received. She was pretty sure if another elf raised a hand against her that she would snap.

She would travel to the north and let Ithilwen dote on her as if she were a hatchling.

Would it be a guarded and restricted life? Yes.

But no one in Middle Earth would dare touch her again.

"Then what is it you fear?" Haldir asked, bemused, which made her cheeks flush a bit.

She really was a child to them all.

"My own foolishness."

Haldir's amusement fell and the horse beneath them skittered a bit but did not buck at his rider's sudden change of tension.

"You are wiser than most, Luna Lovegood."

She snorted, "No, I'm a child whistling in the dark."

"You can hear, and you obey the magic at the heart of the world. You found the entwives, you befriended dragons, dwarves, and you have survived untold tragedies that would have broken almost any other elf."

"Compared to you I am a child," she said in turn.

Haldir slowed the horse, and Luna tensed, worrying that now she would finally see the man behind the elf. Someone who would comfort for his own gain. To make her feel weak so that she would depend on him more greatly.

His spoken words were nothing of the sort, "If I could turn back time, I would have remade the world to see you safe, to have you live the sort of childhood that is owed and promised to all elflings. Such time has passed, and yes, you are young, but this is to be celebrated. Returning to us, I promise you will be loved and cherished. You may not know our love as you should, but you are not too old for it."

She bit her lip, hating that he knew that in complaining about being a child, she was also worrying about her inability to fit in with any other possible elflings.

Haldir spurred the horse on, allowing her to choose how much to share.

"What if I don't fit in with the others?"

"The other high elves, or wood elves?" he asked.

She wasn't sure she liked that response, but she clarified, "The other elflings."

"There are none," Haldir answered. "Your only peer in age is Legolas, and perhaps Elrond's children who have only a few centuries on him."

She winced, "It wasn't always like that, was it?"

"No, I had a hundred peers at least, born within a hundred years of me, and that just among the high elves. But even at our height we were never as prosperous as dwarves, much less men or hobbits."

"Legolas said—" she cut herself off, not sure if pressed to the male, trapped together on a horse was where she wanted to ask this question.

But then, Haldir did not pressure her to continue, did not guide her as many had tried over years. Leading questions to see more in her what they wanted from her.

She had never been such a beauty at Hogwarts. But her eternal youth had subjected her to much unwanted attention. In Middle Earth it was less socially acceptable to be vulgar. Unlike in the wizarding world where women were magically equal to the male counterparts, here, women were often treated as damsels, things to be fretted over and guarded more jealously than actual children.

But Haldir wasn't a man.

She swallowed, "Legolas said that elves only can love their soulmate."

Haldir hummed, neither agreeing nor disagreeing.

"Was he right?" She asked, heart fluttering at the thought she had been lied to.

"He is not," Haldir said. "Though, many are taught so. I'm not even sure soulmate, in particular, the word mate, is the correct common word for it.

"Younger elves do sometimes fall for those who are not their other half. Some even argue that those who fall for humans are abandoning their other half. But with so many elves living across the sea, and more besides never leaving their realms of birth, our other halves are not always meant to be. Historically, elves married according to bloodline."

"You sound disdainful."

"Politics do not belong between partners. Although, I have no nobility in me, so I may be biassed. But the act of marrying for politics was something born from times of war and I don't believe that should be celebrated," he said. "I believe such practices helped lead to our decline, to be pushed in the direction of duty to your family rather than your heart.

"Today, hardly anyone marries. To find your One, as the dwarves call it, is cause enough for joy even if they choose not to share their lives together. Our leaders today are those of great deeds and greater wisdom. In the old days, they would have been considered nobility, excluding Lady Galadriel who proved herself in the beginning of our time in Middle Earth."

"Including Thranduil?"

"Thranduil would have been considered most tolerable of the woodland elves for the light of Valar remains bright in him, but the woodland elves shelled all ties to noble houses long ago. The history of the woodland realm is quite different from the rest of us."

"For better or worse?"

Haldir rubbed his thumb over the back of her hand where it was tangled in the horse's mane. Not to hold on, but for her own comfort.

"Both, perhaps. They are not tolerant of visitors. Despite their wild ways, almost none among them are half elves for they would sooner kill a man or woman then invite them to their haunts. But they do not stand on ceremony quite as the rest do. Thranduil's power comes from his military prowess rather than his birth. That is why Legolas is allowed the freedom to join the company as he will while Lord Elrond would not have allowed his sons or daughter to join the Fellowship."

"Will I be treated differently in your home?"

"Yes, for you are royal, and despite being a woodland elf, have been through the light of Valar. There is none who would disrespect you. Not to mention the grandness of your deeds and adventures. You are the youngest elf of middle earth, and a princess. Your birth would have been celebrated around Middle Earth, as your existence will be celebrated. "

"Why not just have more children?"

"Many had feared the time of elves had passed, that we were waning in the world. Most who debate leaving for the West would never consider having children."

"Had feared?" she questioned the past tense.

Haldir hesitated before saying, "You've changed much."

"My existence?"

"The tragedies you've endured. The hobbits, the new wizard, the line of Durin returned to Erebor, the entwives and the dragons. For a long time, our people believed there was nothing more to learn about the world. Memory is more fond than future dreams and ambitions. Ambition brings with it many pitfalls of morality, greed, envy, and bloodshed. But nature either grows or decays. However, elves do not decay. So we must grow, rejoin the light, or fade away."

Sometimes, Harry had told Luna once. Growing up means learning how to be broken. How to handle the worst the world has to offer and keep going. We are taught not to cry or show our pain. Our enemies take our vulnerability to harm or scorn us.

But sometimes, pain has purpose, sometimes tears and hurt teaches how to regain those pieces. Teach us who we are and what we value. There is strength in weakness, there is bravery in vulnerability. There comes a point where you must decide if you wish to survive or heal.

"I know that I befriended a dragon," Luna said. "But truthfully, my actions were small in comparison with others."

"There is a place for comparison," Haldir answered. "And there is the reality of how the world shapes us and whose hearts we touch. Do not diminish how you are valued in fear of taking glory or sympathy away from another. To give to one soul does not necessitate the taking from another."

She sighed, feeling again the unreality of her body, the small aches that were picking the scabs off of mental wounds that had never healed as they ought to have.

"I hurt," she admitted. "And not my body."

Haldir laid a gentle kiss on her temple and then leaned back so that he held more of her weight against him. She was not sure what boldness or measure of safety she felt just then that compelled her next action. She twisted, bringing one foot over to the other side, so she could more comfortably be held. Her thighs draped over one of his and she tucked herself against his chest.

She seldom longed for comfort of this sort but as soon as she settled, it was as if a switch had been thrown.

The buzzing in her head, the numbness in her skin, gave way to exhaustion, and she could not have lifted her head from the steady rhythm of his heartbeat if she had wanted.

"Sleep," Haldir whispered as he wrapped an arm securely around her. "The trees of Lothlórien wait for you."

She needed no more convincing as she was taken by a river of dreams too long held at bay.

oOo

AN: Happy Haldir! Thoughts, gargoyle geckos, or feedback, pretty please?