This is a work of fiction based on the works of JRR Tolkien. Rights of ownership are with the estate of Professor Tolkien, New Line Cinema and anyone else who owns a piece of the pie. The only reward of this work is the author's enjoyment in writing it. In other words...no money.

Many thanks to Meckinock for her beta skills.

 The Secret of Dog Lake

The twins raced, chasing one another, around and around the large mallorn tree. Celebrían smiled. “It is so nice to see my own children play under the golden boughs of the trees I hold so dear.”

“Indeed,” Celeborn, her father, agreed. “It has been many years since you have caused your own mischief among the mallorns, but I do not think they have forgotten.” He raised his eyebrows. “I certainly have not.”

“I was not so terrible,” Celebrían laughed.

“It was of little matter what you did,” Galadriel interjected, “your adar was clay in your hands.”

Celeborn blew a sigh of great defeat. “Take care, Elrond, should you ever have a daughter. Sons are a delight in a way that is unique unto them, but put a tiny little elleth in your arms and you suddenly want to slay dragons to protect her.”

With a delighted laugh, Celebrían leaned to her father and kissed him soundly on the cheek. “Thank you, Adar. But I will have to admit, that I was often the dragon in need of slaying, and Naneth was not squeamish.”

As the adults chuckled, three tall warriors strode into the clearing where the elflings played.

A squeal of absolute glee escaped the twins as they launched themselves at the marchwarden and his brothers. Haldir swung Elrohir high into the air as his brother, Rúmil, peeled a laughing Elladan off his older brother’s legs. In one swift motion, Rúmil held a giggling, wiggling elfling tucked under his arm.

“To be as imposing as he is,” Celebrían said, “Haldir is certainly attractive to elflings. The twins have absolutely no fear of him.”

“And they should not,” her mother said. “A child can often see what others do not. Haldir’s heart is open to a child.”

“He would make a good adar,” Celebrían mused as she tilted her head to better observe the whirling limbs of elflings and the fierce warriors that were in the middle of the commotion. “If he would simply find himself a nice maiden and settle down…”

“He is settled,” Celeborn said. “And he is wed…to his duty.”

Elrond held up his hand. “Please. Do not get any ideas of matchmaking. Haldir is perfectly capable of determining when and if he wishes to find a wife. As it is, he can enjoy the little ones and then return them to their parents when they are too wound up to sleep.”

Rising slowly, Celebrían laughed. “You are right; the twins will be up all night if we do not find something a bit quieter for them to do.” As she approached the trio of boisterous brothers who were overexciting her children—much to the children’s delight—the raucous game ended abruptly. With a child under each arm, Haldir bowed in unison with his brothers. “My lady,” he said. “It is a pleasure to see you and your family within the Golden Woods.”

“Thank you, Haldir. It is wonderful to be here.” She nodded to the two little figures tucked under his arms. “What do you have there, marchwarden? Two little scamps in need of a quiet time before retiring?”

Haldir looked down at one twin and then the other as if he had no idea where they had come from. The twins giggled at his serious expression. “Indeed, my lady, I think you are correct. I have captured these scoundrels and bring them to you for your wise judgment.”

Celebrían made a show of considering the fate of the penned elflings. “Hmm.m.,” she hummed. “I think it would be appropriate to sit by the fire and tell stories for a while.”

“Yes!” Elladan exclaimed. “I love stories.” Twisting his body to look up at the tall warrior who held him captive, he said, “Will you tell us a story, Haldir?”

“Yes,” Elrohir joined in.

Haldir glanced to his brothers and gained little aid from them. They appeared as delighted by the prospect as the little ones.

“Yes, Haldir,” Orophin said. “Tell us a story.”

“I do not know if I know any suitable for elflings,” Haldir said slowly.

“That is a point to take into consideration,” Elrond said, his words heavy with meaning.

“Yes, you do,” Elladan prodded. “You were an elfling once. You must have heard stories.”

Rúmil leaned in to whisper loudly in the child’s ear. “He cannot remember that far back.”

“Then perhaps, brother,” Haldir smiled sardonically, “you would like to tell us a story?”

Rúmil snorted indelicately. “I was never an elfling.”

“Ha!” Orophin laughed. “You are still one.”

“Before we have a family quarrel,” Celebrían said, “let us sit down at the fire and decide who will tell us a story.”  She scooped Elrohir from under Haldir’s arm. The elfling slid easily to her, but immediately held his arms out to Orophin, who, with a pleased smile, took him from his mother.

Once the warriors and elflings were arranged and Celebrían had taken her place between her husband and her father, Celeborn raised his brow and fixed his gaze upon his marchwarden. “I am waiting, Haldir o’ Lorien. I am interested to hear what tale you will offer tonight.”

Haldir pulled back slightly and adjusted the elfling seated in his lap. “I…I am not certain, my lord.”

“Tell us a scary story,” Elladan said.

“A scary story,” Elrohir echoed.

Haldir did not miss the meaningful look from the twins' father. “Well...” Haldir began, “I do know one story. Have you ever heard about the secret of Dog Lake?”

“No,” the twins said in unison.

“I have,” said Celeborn dryly. “I believe there are several versions of this tale. Am I not correct, marchwarden?”

“Indeed, my lord, you are,” Haldir replied with understanding. He looked back and forth between the small, eager faces turned to him. “I will tell you the best one,” he said with a hint of conspiracy in his voice. He was rewarded with two bright smiles.

“Do you know where Dog Lake is located?” he asked.

The twins shook their heads.

“This lake is to our southwest, near the Gap that separates the Misty Mountains from the White Mountains,” Haldir told them. “The lake is small, so small in fact, that I doubt you would ever find it on a map unless it was one that drew only the immediate area where it is located. Dog Lake is near where a human village once stood, many long years ago.”

“No one lives there now?” Elrohir asked.

Haldir shook his head. “I do not know, but I think the village in this tale is no longer there.”

“What happened to the people?” Elrohir asked.

With a shrug, Haldir said, “I do not know, but this story is about when they did live there.” When no more questions were forthcoming, Haldir continued. “The lake was small, but it was stocked heartily with fish and the people of the village used to fish and swim there often. Many of the people lived in the village, but there were a fair number who lived outside of the village to farm the land. They were simple people who helped each other and looked out for their neighbors.

“There was one man in the village that was very powerful. He was cruel and did not treat his fellows well. But he excelled at raising horses. This is where he gained his wealth.”

“Was he mean to the horses?” asked Elladan.

“On, no,” said Haldir. “He took very good care of his horses. They were his wealth. But he was not kind to the workers that helped him. The people in the village were afraid of him because he would do whatever he had to do to get what he wanted. You see, little ones, he was a selfish man and cared little for anyone other than himself.

“Now, there was a farmer that lived outside the village with his wife and daughter. His daughter was very beautiful and had many suitors for she was not yet wed. Her family was poor, and she did not wish to leave her parents to tend the farm alone so she delayed marriage until the young man that would understand her love for her parents and the land came along. There was one young man that she particularly liked. And he liked her. Nearly everyday, he would meet her by the lake where she and her dog would go to retrieve the fish that had been snared in her baskets. Her dog was an interesting breed. The village folk said that he was part wolf and very smart. He went everywhere the girl went to watch over her.”

“Did the dog like the boy she liked?” Elrohir asked.

“He did indeed,” Haldir smiled.

“What was his name?” asked Elladan.

“The dog or the boy?” Haldir asked.

“The dog,” Elladan replied sincerely.

Haldir thought carefully. “Randír,” he said with confidence. Celeborn snorted softly while the others chuckled.

“Anyway,” Haldir began again, ignoring the sounds of doubts coming from his adult audience, “the powerful man saw the lovely young girl in the village and knew he wanted to marry her. No one ever said no to him, so to his way of thinking, she was already his.

“On the following morning, he rode out to the farm where she lived. The man, his wife and his daughter were about to sit down to their mid-day meal when they heard the horse ride up to their cottage. They went out to greet the man.

‘Good day, sir,’ said the farmer. ‘What manner of service may we be to you on this fine day?’ The farmer had very good manners even though he knew this was the cruel man from the village.

“The man looked at the girl and his heart leapt at the sight of such beauty. The farmer might have been poor, but he was not blind; he did not like the way the man looked at his daughter. Suddenly, the man threw a pouch down at the man’s feet. ‘There is plenty there for a more-than-reasonable dowry,’ he said. ‘I have come to claim you daughter’s hand in marriage.’

“What is a dowry?” asked Elladan.

“A dowry,” Haldir said, “is an exchange of money or goods for the hand of a man’s daughter in marriage.”

Elrohir’s eyes flew open wide as he turned to his father. “You had to pay Daerada for Nana?”

Before Elrond could answer, Celeborn snorted. “No, I had to pay him.”

Celebrían burst into laughter. “Adar! Do not confuse my children.” Still chuckling, she turned to the twins. “No, love, Ada did not pay for me. I married your adar because I love him. The dowry practice is not found among our kind. This seems to be a human tradition.”

Elrond sighed. “Go on with the story.”

“When the farmer saw the man’s intention,” Haldir said, “he picked up the pouch. Coins jingled inside, and the farmer could tell it was a goodly sum of money. But he did not hesitate. He carried the sack over to the man and held it up to him. The man would not take it, so the farmer placed the bag on the horse in front of the man. ‘I am sorry,’ said the farmer, ‘but my daughter does not seek to marry at this time. We thank you for your kind offer, but we cannot accept.’  The daughter’s relieved sigh could be heard all over Arda.

“Still, the man would not be put off. ‘Is she not of the age to take a husband?’ He reached into his cloak and withdrew another sack, even bigger than the one before and tossed it at the farmer. The farmer caught it readily and was amazed to hold so much coin in his hand at one time, but he slowly shook his head and told the man, ‘I will not accept any amount of coin in exchange for my daughter’s happiness. When she weds, she will wed the man of her choosing.’

‘Her choosing?’ the man yelped. ‘What matter is it what she desires? Is it not your place as her father to decide such matters for your household?’

‘Indeed,’ the farmer said, ‘it is my right by law and custom to choose the ways of my household, and I have made my choice.’ The farmer tossed the second bag of coins back to the man. ‘We will bid you a good day then, sir, for this matter is settled.’

‘This matter is far from settled, old man,’ the man said as he urged his horse forward. At that point, the dog…Randír…came charging from under a bush where he had been resting in the shade. He came forward with his teeth bared, snarling and growling at the man on the horse. Randír knew this man meant harm to his people. The horse shied back from the angry dog and would go no closer even when the man tried to make him advance. Finally, the man, unable to control his frightened horse, turned the beast and rode away.

“The man was very angry. No one refused his offers. He returned home that day in a fit of fury that frightened everyone that crossed his path. Late that night, while he drank…”

Elrond cleared his throat.

“…drank his tea,” Haldir corrected, “the man decided on a course that would leave the maiden no choice but to accept his proposal.”

“What did he decide?” Elladan asked, sliding further into Haldir’s lap with anticipation.

“He decided that he would visit the girl and explain to her how if she married him, he would see that her parents were taken care of in a grand way that they could have never imagined.” Haldir lowered his voice. “If that did not succeed, he would point out to the maiden how much misery he could cause her family.”

“He was a mean man,” Elladan said.

“Yes, he was,” Haldir agreed, “but do not forget that the farmer was a kind and loving father. He was a good man.

“Later that next day when the man knew the girl would be checking her fish baskets, he rode to the lake. He found her there, but much to his surprise, he also found the boy there talking to her. He was very jealous and very angry.”

Elladan gasped. “What did he do?”

“Well, little one, he hid in the trees until the boy left to go back to his father’s farm just over the rise. The man followed the boy and watched him. As the boy came to a narrow pass overlooking a deep ravine, he sprang forward and pushed the boy over the edge.”

“NO!” cried Elrohir as he buried his face in his hands. A muffled voice asked, “Did he get hurt?”

“Sadly, yes, he did,” Haldir said. “The boy did not survive the terrible fall. After the man was certain the boy would not get up, he went back to his own house to wait for the maiden to find out the news about her beloved. After several days had passed and everyone in the village was talking about the boy’s unfortunate accident, he knew that the maiden surely knew that the boy would not return. Once again he rode out to the lake. As he expected, he found the girl sitting on a rock with her arms draped around the neck of the great beast, Randír, weeping softly into the fur of her beloved companion.  As the man approached the girl, Randír began a low growl in this throat that made the man take a step back and raise his hands in a friendly gesture. The girl spoke softly to the dog, and he did cease his rumbling, but he did not take his wary eyes from the man.

‘Why do you weep so, child?’ he asked the maiden.

‘A friend of mine has met a terrible accident,’ she said, ‘and he will not return.’

“The man smiled secretly, but he put on a face of concern. ‘I am sorry to hear this, my dear. Please accept my condolences.’ The girl nodded, but said nothing more. Watching the dog closely, the man moved a step forward. ‘I am sorry you are grieved,’ he said, ‘but I wish to offer again for your hand in marriage. There is no reason that you should not wish to join with me. I will give you everything that your heart has ever desired. And your parents will be well cared for. I will see that they have the finest farm in all the land if you will but consent to be my wife.’

“The girl stood and shook her head. ‘You cannot give me what my heart desires, sir. It has been taken from me forever.’

“The man smiled. ‘I can give you more than anyone else and in time, you will learn to love me, and I will be your heart’s desire.’

“Tears filled the girl’s eyes once again. ‘That will not be,’ she told him. ‘I cannot love you, sir. I will not marry you.’

“The man drew himself up in anger. The dog grumbled low and deep in his throat. ‘And what of your parents?’ he roared. ‘Will you be so selfish that you will see them starve over some silly, childish romance that has ended forever?’

‘You do not understand, sir,’ she said. ‘My family may not possess much in the way of material goods, but we are richer than you will ever be. I would not burden my parents with the knowledge that I sold myself to you so that they could have more possessions. No, sir, I will not marry you.’

“Furious, the man, advanced on the girl, but Randír skittered forward as quickly as a flash of lightning, and the man jumped back. Randír remained between the man and his mistress, with his ears flat to his head and his teeth glistening in the sunlight. ‘Make no mistake foolish girl; I will see you pay for this insult. In the end you will beg me to take you as my wife.’

‘Nay, sir,’ she said, ‘I will not.’

“The man walked furiously back to where he had left his horse, mounted it and rode away as fast the wind.

“Later after the maiden had gathered her fish from her traps, she started for home. As she came to the top of the hill where she could see the valley below where her family’s cottage was, she saw a sight that stopped her heart.”

“What?” Elladan asked, his eyes wide and unblinking.

“Smoke,” said Haldir. “Dark, roiling smoke was billowing up from her cottage and from the barn nearby. She dropped her basket and ran as fast as she could, calling for her parents. Randír raced at her side until they drew near the burning structures where he began trying to put himself between the girl and the fire. The heat was so great that Randír’s fur was singed as he pushed the girl away from the flames over and over as she called for her parents.”

“Where were her nana and ada?” Elrohir asked with a trembling voice.

Celeborn coughed poignantly.

Haldir nodded. “She could not find them. But she did see high atop a hill, a lone man astride his great horse watching as all she loved was destroyed.”

“The man!” Elladan said.

“Yes, the man,” Haldir said sadly. “Finally when there was nothing left but smoldering ashes and the young girl had cried until she no longer had strength, she stood and walked away. There was nowhere she loved more than the little lake, and it was to there that she returned. With Randír at her side, she walked into the water. Some say she went in to wash away the soot and ashes and became tangled in underwater weeds, and others say that her heart was so heavy that she could not walk on the ground again.”

“She drowned?” Elrohir asked.

“She passed into the circle of the world where she would be forever with those she loved.”

“And Randír?” Elladan inquired.

“He went with her,” Haldir said. “But that is not the end of the story. The next morning, the bad man was found by his servants….”

“Haldir…” Celebrían said softly.

“…he was found by his servants. He, too, had passed from this world. According to his servants, the man had been hurt by an animal, much like a large dog. But there were no tracks leading into his house or leading out. The shutters were all latched and the doors bolted. No one could guess at how such an animal could have gotten in.”

“Was it Randír?” Elrohir asked.

Haldir shrugged. “I do not know. He went with the girl. But folks tell that at night, especially during a full moon, the figure of a slender girl and a large dog can be seen walking the lake where people keep their fish baskets.”

“Now?” Elladan asked.

“To this day,” Haldir nodded.

Celebrían stood and smiled. “That was indeed a scary story, Haldir. Thank you. Now it is time for elflings to bathe and go to bed.”

Elrohir held up his arms. “Carry me Nana.” His mother scooped him into her arms as Elrond relieved Haldir of his precious burden.

Elrond hugged his child closely while he fixed a stern, but amused gaze on the marchwarden. “Tonight when they awaken, I will bring them to your flet.”

Orophin and Rúmil burst into laughter. “It will not be the first time he has had a frightened elfling in his bed,” Orophin said as he tousled Rúmil’s hair.

“And he will deserve it, just as he deserved me,” Rúmil laughed.

Celeborn stood stretching with the agile grace of a great cat releasing pent up energy. “The marchwarden is hereby forbidden from telling any more bedtime stories.” He shook his head as he placed Galadriel’s hand in the crook of his arm. “I do not think I will sleep a wink tonight,” he muttered softly as he led his lady wife toward the stairs to their talan.

The End