Empty

Finally, I've gotten around to actually rewriting this.  I'm not even sure how it compares to the original, but the concept is the same.  Anyway, my "break month" is almost over.  I'm going to try to pick things up in January again.  Wish me luck!

Cheat Arc.  Mellow AU.  Haldir knows that his lover is of the forest and the earth.  Knows that, given the choice, Legolas would stay there forever and never sail.  This is, basically, Haldir's POV of "Destination".  Also, it's very plainly related to "Rain" and "Serenity".  It's kind of the "next step" in this pairing which I've only just begun to work on.  We'll see where it goes, yes?  Takes place in the Gardens of Lórien in Valinor post-Battle of the Hornburg (probably in the Fourth Age, to be honest), but before Legolas and Gimli sail.

AN: Nénu is the Quenya word for the yellow water lilies that grow in the Gardens.  Legitimately.  And meldonya means "my friend".

Disclaimer: I don't own the Lord of the Rings

Pairings: Haldir x Legolas

Characters: Haldir, random maiar of Irmo and Estë (obviously makes mention of Legolas and Legolas' family)

Warning: non-canon compliant, movieverse death, slash, depression, possible soul-mates, ideas about the workings of Valinor and elvish afterlife

Song: Ichiban no Takaramono [Yui]

Words: 1,102
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empty (adjective): containing nothing; not occupied or inhabited; unfrequented; lacking reality, substance, meaning or value: hollow
http://www.merriam-webster.com/dictionary/empty

Truly, he knew not how to explain in words, to make them understand.

The spirits that guarded the Gardens of Lórien were gentle beings who had never experienced strife, that had never faced hardship.  They lived in this world of sweet scents and glowing flowers, of soft night sounds filling the breeze in the dark and the buzz of fat bumblebees during the daytime hours.  For them, all was right in the world as long as the sun was shining down upon them in a blaze of golden warmth.

They did not know pain or suffering.  They did not understand heartbreak.  They knew only the simple comforts of the world, and they could not understand why Haldir could not be satisfied only with the sunshine and the flowers and the endless days of green peace.

Still, cheerful and ever-welcoming, they always took the time to inquire after his wellbeing.  Like friends, they fluttered close with their wide, innocent eyes and soft garden-tending hands, beautiful and alien faces furrowed with confusion when he could not return their smiles and their bell-like laughter.  When he took no joy in prancing barefoot through the soft carpet of brilliant green grass and took no happiness in the scent of a bloom pressed beneath his nose.

"Why do you not smile, meldonya?  Are the flowers not to your liking?" they would ask with confusion.

"Why do you not play with us?  The sun is so very warm this morn!" they would exclaim and tug at his arms.

"Come, sing with us.  We have yet to hear your lovely voice join our chorus," they would beg like eager children.

They simply did not understand.

They did not understand that he couldn't smile, not when before his eyes flashed the image of his not-quite-lover's wide, stricken eyes watching his descent into darkness.  They did not understand that he took no delight in prancing like a child through the gardens or in the shine of the sun, not when all memory of green things brought to mind beloved eyes and all warmth seemed but a faded and distant mirage.

They did not understand that he could not bear to sing with them.  His voice wanted not to impart their merry tunes and softhearted melodies of springtime and the twittering of birds.

He wanted to lament.  He wanted to scream and cry at the sky until it darkened with rain as did his thoughts.  He wanted to throw himself down upon the ground and weep through his words of broken worship.

It made him wonder why he had been sent here at all.

Of course, he had no purpose in the Halls of the Waiting either.  Judged quickly, he was, by the terrifying eyes of the Lord of the Dead.  Occasionally arrogant, but hardly a tainted soul, the vala proclaimed.  Young and loving, caring toward his brothers and his parents, loyal to his Lord and Lady.  Dying for something worthy, a passing decorated in valor and worthy of song and praise.

The Halls were not for mourning or for healing.  And so here he came.

Maybe they sent him here hoping that the beauty would writhe its way into his heart and fill up that aching wound left behind.  Maybe they believed that these butterflies and songbirds which fluttered to and fro about him with their lyrical voices and their kind hearts wound help him heal.

But nothing would make that empty pit go away.  That place where should have been--

Even thinking about it left a hollow pang shuddering through his chest.

No, Haldir preferred his corner hidden beneath the willow tree's weeping branches by the edge of the lake.  Preferred endless hours staring at the soft current of the waters drifting by silently and soothingly through the afternoon and into the night.

Preferred the soft buttery ivory of the water lilies floating by without stares of confusion or words of inquisition.  Gentle and elegant and pale.  Quiet understanding.

They reminded him of...

Of that soft hair flying over a strong archer's shoulder.  It shared that softened color of the water lilies, gleaming in the afternoon sunlight, casting gold upon ivory.  Of the smooth skin with a faint rosy tang of liveliness and the overwhelming beauty of curved cheeks and bow-lips that brought to mind the sculpt of those petals.

Of days as calm and sunny as this one, days with the sound of the stream in the distance and the rustle of leaves overhead.  Days of staring off into the distance wondering when next he would see that beloved visage appear from between the forest of towering trees.  Days wondering with his own longing sigh when next he would be gifted with the glow of that smile and the welcoming affection of deep, smoldering eyes.

Of his nénu.

Thus, Haldir sometimes liked to reach out and touch them as they floated by upon the water.  Their softness beneath his fingertips was the only comfort he could find in this place of garish happiness and misunderstanding.  This place where he wholly did not belong.

Because he knew with a certainty--one that was undeniable and inexplicable--exactly where he belonged.  Exactly what it would take to fill up that empty space that pounded painfully upon his ribs and clawed at his sinking heart.

Knew that it would never happen.

Because that sweet prince with the fiery eyes and the tender smile loved the forest with every breath in his lungs and every beat of his wild heart.  Loved his family and his people and the wide open sky and the earthy imperfection of Middle-earth.

And he did not want to take that away.  Not even to end his own suffering.

Haldir knew that that space would remain empty forever.  He would never heal and dance in the gardens and sing like the birds and make merry beneath the trees.  He would never revel in the beauty that surrounded and enveloped his cold and desolate bubble of a world.

His salvation was not coming.  Not this time.

And so he contented himself with that heavy ache in his chest, eating more and more out of the core of his spirit.  And he watched the lilies float by upon their pads.

Watched and dreamed and found no rest in the Gardens of Lórien beneath the willows with the scent of flowers in the air.

Because everything about this place reminded him... reminded him...

Haunted him... haunted him...

Carved... and... sheared... open...

And the lilies just stared back.  Quiet and knowing.  And accepting the invisible tears that were too frozen--too selfless--to fall.