Natsukashii

[Haldir Eressëa]

He's a child, but he doesn't even have a substantial understanding as to what constitutes a proper childhood.

He supposes that it includes being tucked in the bed by your mother and father – with the former kissing you good night and wishing for your dreams to be sweet and the latter smiling at you reassuringly as he turns off the light and leaves your bedroom door opened halfway to keep the monsters away. Maybe it's the act of gathering around the table for dinner at the end of a long day, chatting happily about what you've done in school or the friends you've played with. Perhaps it is when you come home from playing with your friends, both knees scraped and tears and snot running down your face as you bawl your eyes out and tell your sympathetic parents that "it hurts, make it go away, please?"

He thinks a lot about it, lists down any potential answers, because he has no friends to ask for answers and even his twin brother ponders about the same thing. They are a pathetic pair, but at least they have each other. They may never know what a proper childhood is, but they're more grateful for having each other's back. He probably will never ask for more, and his brother tells him the exact same thing.

"Again."

Father's voice is cold and monotonous, and though he finds familiarity in it he wishes that a day may come that he will be able to hear warmth and affection in it. But warmth and affection have no place in the training grounds, nor in the hallways or the dining hall or anywhere, for that matter. Warmth is a crutch, more so affection. Weaknesses. Things spies have no use for.

He grips the wooden training sword tight with both hands, ignoring the way the sharp tang of iron coats his tongue. With a quiet huff he rushes forward, training sword poised to stab but Father sees through the terribly transparent attack and quickly catches one of his wrists. He finds himself being effortlessly tossed aside like a rag doll, and before his body hits the floor someone catches him. He and his savior crashes to the ground all the same, and underneath him Hyarantë lets out a frustrated huff.

They help each other back on their feet and stand shoulder to shoulder, one pair of pale blue eyes gazing downward while the other pair meets the unimpressed golden gaze of their Father. Haldir feels Hyarantë shuffle beside him and when he glances at his older twin he sees that the latter is grinning boyishly up at the oldest in the room.

He swallows the lump in his throat and fixes his gaze back to his bare feet.

"Haldir's training isn't over yet," Father says in that same impassive tone. "Return to your own lessons."

"I finished my tasks early, Chichiue," Hyarantë replies confidently, and not for the first time Haldir wishes that he has the same confidence his brother possesses. He feels one of his brother's hands grip his, supportive and calming. But when he chances a glance all he's met is Father's disapproving gaze.

"Then stay outside and wait for your turn."

Hyarantë offers the patriarch a swift but respectful bow, hand squeezing Haldir's as an act of comfort that isn't lost on anyone. The older twin lets go and before disappearing behind the double wooden doors he offers Haldir a wide, cheerful grin. He responds with a weak smile that vanishes instantly as soon as the doors slid shut.

"Again."

With shaky but renewed determination, the younger Erennor twin steels himself and charges forward once again.


——

"You do realize we're allowed to complain, right? I mean, Chie does it all the time and he gets no beating for it!"

He keeps his mouth shut and doesn't bother to reply. Instead he focuses on the sweetness of the konpeitō, feet swinging idly below him as he and Hyarantë sit side by side on the engawa. Haldir is just grateful that all he's gotten out of the swordsmanship training earlier are bruises and a dislocated shoulder. Father hasn't spoken any kind of reprimand with regards to Hyarantë stepping in earlier to help Haldir and while Father's glare continues (and will never cease) to sting, the younger Erennor twin knows that he has been let off easily. Father – and by extension, Mother – favors Hyarantë more than Haldir, so he assumes that scolding Haldir will only lead to the older twin throwing a tantrum.

And being a pain in everyone's collective backside, he adds.

"Did you get your shoulder fixed?" his twin asks, hands digging through the small bowl of candy Haldir is holding. He simply nods, not really in the mood to speak after hours of being deflected and thrown around like he weighs no more than a tiny sack of flour.

He hears Hyarantë sigh dramatically beside him.

"What do you want for our birthday, brother?"

Haldir shrugs and shakes his head once. He has no idea. They are turning seven in three days' time, but the trainings and lessons continue as if the celebration isn't swiftly coming. But then again even birthdays are no exceptions. Perhaps he can consider their education and training his gifts? What does even kids their age get for their birthdays? Do they celebrate it with much fanfare? Do they get a giant cake for it?

Soft chirps strike a melody from one of the trees in the garden before them, and Haldir spots a bird with blue and white plumage. It is a tiny, beautiful thing, and before he registers what he is doing he finds himself lifting a hand and pointing a finger at the creature.

Hyarantë lets out an appreciative "oooh!" as the bird takes flight up to the sky. Two pairs of pale blue eyes watch with childish fascination as the blue bird disappears from their view.

Haldir has read that birds in flight often depict freedom. He blinks, unsure as to why the thought suddenly crosses his mind. He looks down at the bowl of candy and frowns lightly when he sees that almost half of the konpeitō are now on his brother's lap. One small hand tugs at the older twin's sleeve, the other raising the small bowl to Hyarantë's face.

His brother snickers apologetically but doesn't give any indication that he'll give back Haldir's share of candy. Instead, Hyarantë tries his best to scoop up every piece in his equally small hands before hauling himself up on his feet. The younger between the two made no effort to follow, only letting his light but disapproving frown speak for himself.

"I'll get us something cool for our birthday, Haldir," declares the older twin with a bright grin. "So let me have all these, okay? I'll tell Father and Mother that you only ate a few–"

"But I did, and I want more candy," he signs in protest.

"So they'll know we've been good!" Hyarantë reasons, grin morphing into a smile. "Then they'll let us get something cool for our birthday!"

Haldir narrows his eyes at his twin, pondering the pros and cons as he chews on his bottom lip. They're turning seven, and like his brother he wants something cool as a present. Maybe a pet or something. Remembering the blue bird from earlier, the frown on his face disappears and is replaced by a wide-eyed determination. He gets up from his seat with a quiet huff then places the small bowl under Hyarantë's cupped hands. The candies rattle as the older between the two puts them back in the bowl and takes it from Haldir.

Their eyes meet, and, coming to a shared understanding, take their last piece each. Hyarantë's giggling is infectious, and soon enough both boys are laughing as if sharing a private joke only the two of them know.


——

 

[Haldir Eressëa]

"If it isn't the little Moon," a voice drawls out behind him as he wanders down the hallway in search of his brother. "Lookin' for the Sun, aren't we?"

Haldir shuffles forward, away from the voice, and turns around to look at the speaker. Black garments meet his gaze, and he cranes his neck up to see Chie Erennor staring down at him, one perfect brow raised. His cousin, a decade older than him and Hyarantë, stands looming a few steps from the younger Erennor, expression bordering on boredom. Haldir hesitates, one hand lifting to secure the mask covering the lower half of his face, as he takes another step backwards.

He rarely interacts with the older Erennor before him, though if Hyarantë's words are to be believed Chie is a decent guy. It isn't the black-haired teenager's fault that he has a resting "bored" face, as the older Erennor twin describes him. But Haldir is terribly timid, and with Hyarantë absent for the moment he feels a little frieghtened as Chie continues to stare at him with that unnervingly spiritless expression. So he doesn't speak, doesn't reply to his cousin's question.

Chie, in turn, remains quiet. He looks as if he's waiting for Haldir to reply, and the younger Erennor panics. Father wants him to be as articulate and approachable as Hyarantë, but Haldir's timid nature just isn't suited for the crowds and diplomatic work. He lowers his gaze, finding the wooden floor beneath his bare feet. He shrinks to himself when he hears a footstep, followed by another, and another, until Chie's shadow swallows his slightly trembling form.

Haldir thinks he hears Chie sigh, and he blinks and squeaks in surprise when a large but gentle hand settles on his head. The hand pats him once, then twice, before the rustling of clothing reaches his ears. When Haldir lifts his gaze he finds that his cousin has lowered himself on one knee, pitch black eyes meeting startlingly pale blues and Chie's lips curve into a smile.

It is kind, Chie's smile. It resembles Hyarantë's, but there are some differences. His twin brother's smile is warm, a contrast to the chill in Chie's. And while it is cold, Chie's smile, it retains a kindness that Haldir feels is genuine even without the Force's assurance.

"Are you in need of assistance, Haldir?" Chie asks Haldir again. "Do you want me to look for that troublemaker you call brother?"

The casualness with which his cousin speaks would've earned disapproving gasps and glares from the elders and the rest of the clan, but Haldir doesn't mind. He is still a little afraid of Chie, but his complete lack of deference is wholly welcomed. Haldir understands why those from the lower houses and branch families treat him and his family with reverence, but to the seven year-old the actions are somewhat disturbing. He hates it when they call him "Young Master" instead of simply calling him by name. He knows that Hyarantë hates it, too.

But Chie, a member of the branch family, is speaking to Haldir like one speaks to a normal child. Maybe it's one of the reasons why Hyarantë likes Chie the most out of all of their cousins. He is a little intimidating, but when he smiles that cold and kind smile, and speaks the way normal people speak with children Haldir finds less and less reasons to be scared.

So when he shakes his head in response and prompts a snicker from the older Erennor, Haldir fights his shyness and finds his voice when Chie speaks again.

"You have to use your words, little man. C'mon, up and at 'em."

"I'm not looking for 'Antë," he tells the teenager, voice quiet and soft but he can tell that Chie has heard perfectly. The older Erennor's smile remain even as he rises back to his full height, practically dwarfing Haldir.

He wants to be as tall as Chie when he grows up, he thinks to himself.

The dark-haired male regards Haldir thoughtfully, narrow eyes turning to slits as he crosses his arms over his chest. Haldir already knows the question before it slips past his cousin's lips, and with newfound bravery he cranes his neck up to meet Chie's gaze.

"I-I don't have classes today, but 'Antë does," he tells the teen. With his older twin stuck with lessons, Haldir is left without a playmate. He likes spending time on his own, but he likes it best when Hyarantë is with him. It gets boring without his brother, and reading can only do so much. "I want– I want to go out and play, but..."

Haldir dips his head, suddenly embarrassed. He wants to ask Chie if he can play with him, but his cousin may be busy and that he has just happened upon the lonely white-haired Erennor on his way to his own studies or work. Knowing the clan's rules Chie probably can't even play with him if he wanted to. Besides, Haldir cannot possibly ask for his cousin's precious time. What if he's working? What if he's on his way to a mission, an expedition? What if–

Chie leans down towards Haldir, smile now tinged with mischief. The black-haired teen raises a finger and places it to his lips, pitch black eyes gazing down at Haldir through slitted lids. Chie looks like a cat, Haldir thinks. Come to think of it, is the face he is looking at really Chie's? Is his cousin using someone else's face? Then again, wearing masks aren't strictly mandatory within the safety of their compound.

"Wanna go exploring instead?" Chie offers with a wink.

——

It is not Haldir's first time outside the safety of the clan's walled home, but he feels thrilled to be out here all the same.

He keeps close beside Chie, one hand gripping tightly the sleeve of one arm. There are so many people out here in the commercial district, and he feels through the Force that while his cousin body language is as lax as an overconfident prey, the protective and ever-alert predator is only lulling any troublemaker into a false sense of security. Haldir knows and trusts that he is safe with Chie, and despite his discomfort among the crowds his cousin's presence is more than enough to calm him.

They hop from one district to the next, masks in place and black clothing not really standing out among the vibrant colors around them. Haldir takes comfort in the small bells attached to Chie's mask, the soft ringing loud in his presence in the Force. His cousin takes him to gaming booths that offered a variety of prizes ranging from tiny trinkets to credits. The older Erennor keeps beating one game after another that the has to deliberately lose in the next one so the booth owner will not accuse them of cheating.

Chie's boisterous laughter drowns Haldir's shy giggles as they go their way towards a rather lively establishment. A pretty Zeltron greets the black-haired teen before cooing at Haldir, one slender hand ruffling snow-white hair. He shies away from the touch and Chie's demeanor shifts subtly, one hand finding Haldir's shoulder and shuffling ever so slightly to hide the younger Erennor from the woman's view.

"Just one song, Toru?" she purrs at Chie with a pout. "The girls will surely want an encore, you know."

"Yeah, just the one, sorry. And nope, not gonna be doing a live singing this time," his cousin, in a voice Haldir hasn't heard before, tells the pretty lady. "His mother–" he pulls Haldir closer "–will be back home soon, and I want to bring my boy here to see me sing before she returns."

"Oh, my, this little baby's your kid?!" the Zeltron asks, disbelief blatant in her voice and expression. She withdraws her playful touches, going from seductive to apologetic real quick as Haldir hugs Chie's left leg for added effect. "Oh, gosh, I'm– you never told us you're married, Toru! That's mean!"

Because he's not, Haldir wants fo say, but Chie only laughs and waves a hand at the lady.

"I told you so many times but you never listen," he teases but there is a slight bite to it as if he really has a wife waiting for him and Haldir at home. The pretty Zeltron grumbles, but in good jest. Haldir watches as she begins to keep a respectful distance between her and the supposedly married "Toru" before leading them inside the building. The three pass by halls with numerous doors until she stops in front of one and opens it with a card key she soon hands over to Chie.

"We're gonna miss your live singing, Toru," she says with a pout before leaning down towards Haldir. "Your Papa's a very sweet man, y'know... anyway, do you have an uncle?"

Chie laughs and shoos her away. He gently pushes Haldir into the room, only taking his mask off long after the door slides shut and making sure that there are no bugs in the room.

There is a large screen projector on one end of the room. Two microphones are carefully laid on a long wooden table, and sofas are propped against each side of the narrow room.

"What is this place?" Haldir asks Chie, a little confused as he surveys the room. Unlike his cousin he doesn't take off his mask, afraid that the pretty lady will make a reappearance.

His cousin turns to face him after setting up the projector screen, lighting the room up. Chie takes one of the microphones and pulls out a data chip from his pocket. With a smile, he slots the chip into the port. An image appears on the screen, followed by the beginnings of a seemingly lively song.

"This place here, little Moon, is where sentients shake their stresses off by singing their hearts out!" declares Chie with a boyish grin before breaking into a song.

(In the distant future, neither Haldir nor Chie will return to this place. But if it isn't for his cousin, Haldir might have not come to appreciate music.)

Spoiler

By the time they return home, Haldir promises Chie that he'll never tell anyone – not even Hyarantë (Haldir feels guilty for this) – that the two of them sneaked out. Chie tells him that he writes songs and creates music in his spare time. It is, in a way, a form of destressing from the demanding duties the clan imposes upon him.

"When the clan drowns you and pressures you, you're going to have to find or even make your own lifeline, little Moon," Chie advises the seven year-old. "I found mine in music. What's yours gonna be?"

"Um..." he looks down at his hands, still trembling with excitement from Chie's loud but heartfelt music. His cousin has been absolutely lost in his song earlier, but through the Force Haldir felt that Chie has never been happier. The older Erennor is happy on their excursion, but when they entered that building with its narrow but comfy music room Chie's soul is practically blinding through the Force.

Haldir wants that kind of happiness. He wants it for Hyarantë, too.

"Books. Stories. And," Haldir meets his cousin's gaze, smile bright and genuine under the cover of his own mask, "your music, Chie! And other people's music! Can I h-hear more sometime?"

Chie's smile was cold but kind, and Haldir berates himself for ever feeling intimidated and scared of his cousin before.

"It'll be my pleasure, little Moon."

——

 

[Haldir Eressëa]

_____


His Master was quite cheerful today.

There was nothing new about it. The Morellian was practically a walking beam of sunshine most of the time. Haldir still wondered why the Council saw it fit to pair up an incessantly chatty, happy adult and a helplessly introverted, selectively mute child as teacher and student. It was highly unlikely that his parents requested for such an agreement, and he didn't think that they would go that far with regards to his Jedi training. The young Erennor was inclined to think that his Father did not care how his son would manage to navigate to his new life on his own as long as he received training for his skills in the Force. Still, Haldir was quietly thankful for having been placed under the guidance of a kind and considerate man. Rudra Severino was affable, bright, and loud - traits the Morellian shared with the Arkanian Offshoot's twin brother. The red-haired man’s kindness was so different from Hyarantë’s nor Chie’s, but it was still a kindness that exuded warmth and paternal affection. It was a kindness Haldir always wished for Father to show him and his twin.

The white-haired Padawan sat on the grass across from his Master, the two Jedi about to begin a session on meditation. Rudra’s blue-green eyes were cast skywards, a smile dancing on the older man’s lips. Through the Force the Morellian’s emotions were like a beacon, and from what Haldir allowed himself to catch glimpses of he felt excitement, a sense of adventure, and the barest hints of… worry?

A strong breeze swept past the plateau, rustling the ties of the bandages covering most of the young Arkanian Offshoot’s face. Gloved hands rose to adjust the bindings, catching the attention of Rudra. The smile on the Knight’s face faltered briefly and it did not escape Haldir’s notice.

”At the risk of sounding like a broken record,” Rudra began a little hesitantly, keeping the affable expression on his face, ”but can’t you take it off if you’re uncomfortable? I will not look; we can sit back to back if you’re worried I’d take a peek.”

He shot the older man a deadpan gaze, then tapped his first two fingers with a thumb, hard, to emphasize the response the former should have always expected everytime he inquired about the coverings. Shot down so forcefully, Rudra raised both hands at chest level in surrender, his cheerful demeanor deflating but for a moment.

”Alright, I get it, my bad,” apologized the Morellian. Dropping his hands to his lap, the red-haired male regarded Haldir for a moment, as if gauging the Padawan’s mood but like always it was hard to tell from his mien if he was in a good mood or otherwise. Quickly catching on his Master’s stare, the Padawan gradually lowered his mental walls and reached out to Rudra through the Force.

Haldir offered Rudra a single thumb up, and he would’ve chuckled at the visible relief on his Master’s face. He held back the urge though, and simultaneously mentally berated himself for it.

”There’s something I want to share with you before we begin today's lesson, Haldir.” At the Padawan’s answering head tilt, curiosity nudging at the Morellian through the Force, Rudra continued. ”I talked to your brother when we visited your home in Arkania during our previous mission there.”

The Padawan stared at his Master for a long moment, at first uncomprehending. It was true that the pair had visited the young Arkanian Offshoot’s family home when their mission on the planet concluded. But when did Rudra get the opportunity to talk to the older Erennor twin? Haldir had kept a close eye on the Morellian the moment the latter set foot in the mansion, so when-?

He remembered, and of course his Master had capitalized on the Padawan’s absence so he could speak one on one with the latter’s brother. He remembered being summoned to his Father’s office so he could report the progress of his Jedi training, more so the skills in the Force he must hone. He remembered the meeting taking an hour, with Father prying on even the smallest of details and with Haldir not sparing anything because reporting everything was expected of him. He had kept a close eye on his Master during their short stay, all but for an hour with Haldir trapped, mentally suffocating, in Soi Erennor’s office. A solid hour that Rudra took advantage of, all just to quell his curiosity about his Padawan’s personal life.

In that moment, as he sat staring at his Master as the latter confessed what was metaphorically a crime he knew not to commit because the Padawan had purposefully kept him in the dark about his personal life for a reason, Haldir felt disgust aimed at himself, and a deep sense of betrayal from the man he called his mentor. His throat constricted, breath caught in it silently while bile raced up as his chest spasmed painfully from this treachery committed while his back was turned. What made it worse was the realization that Hyarantë kept the conversation from him. The one person he trusted out of anyone in the known galaxy, in the whole universe, broke the faith Haldir had on him. They promised each other not to drag anyone outside their family into their affairs, their personal life, because they did not need their pity or sympathy-

His hands balled into fists on his lap, pale blue gaze remaining locked on the Morellian as hints of discomfort flashed in the older man’s visage. The silence dragged on, and when Rudra decided that it was enough, when he decided to open his mouth to speak, Haldir quietly rose from his seat and walked away. He kept his thoughts, his emotions, all to himself, his mental walls raised high and suffocating everything he knew not to let spill. Any attempts to reach out to the Padawan through the Force would be met by walls of ice - glacial, unfeeling, but most of all unyielding in the most uncaring of ways someone so young could express. Through the Force he could hear Rudra’s confusion like a pin that shattered the brittlest of glass.

”Haldir-”

He didn’t let the Morellian finish, suddenly afraid that if he stayed to listen, he would believe the excuses the Knight would make, no matter how justified they might be. To Haldir, trust was one of the most important things in life. Trust in the clan, in your family, and your blood alone. It was trust that he gave, despite being apprehensive at first, to Rudra when the red-haired man proved himself to be a capable and - above all - kind mentor to the child who was new to the life of the Jedi. He walked away without looking back, breath coming out in shallow, quiet gasps. When he heard his Master get up with the clear intent to follow, the Padawan increased his pace, almost stumbling with uncharacteristic lack of grace when he tripped on his own foot.

Rudra kept on following.

”Haldir, please, I didn’t mean to-”

The young Arkanian Offshoot halted abruptly, whirling around to face the Morellian. ”Of course you did.”

It was not the lack of spite nor anger that surprised both men when Haldir spoke. To Haldir, it was the complete disregard for choosing someone else’s voice before he opened his mouth to speak. It was always a conscious decision drilled into him over the course of his formative years within the four walls of his family home. To Rudra, it was the fact that the voice the Padawan used was not the one he usually heard. The possibility that he would finally be able to hear his student’s voice should have been a surprising but pleasant moment, not this-

"I know them and what they want from me more than anyone else," Haldir continued, hands shaking with frustration that did not manifest in his voice. Still, that anger rang like clawed nails raking across a chalkboard through the Force - grating, deafening, and extremely unpleasant. "I know their hearts – both my parents' and my brother's. I thought my Mother and my Father were only the selfish ones... but now I know better.”

Concern was painted so starkly on the Knight’s face. He moved to cross the distance between him and his Padawan but Haldir stepped back in kind, maintaining the rift that began to separate them in more ways than one.

”Hyarantë shouldn't have persuaded me to come here... nor should I have allowed myself to be persuaded. He knows I'm strong when I'm with him – he knows that we're stronger together and yet he persuaded me to leave. And I followed, because I believed in him. I still do, but now I also feel that I shouldn't have."

The Padawan sighed with resignation, baleful but (even more so) sorrowful eyes meeting his Master’s.

”Please don’t follow me. I want to be alone for now.”

Without another word he left, leaving Rudra helplessly gazing after him. Through the Force he reached out to his Padawan-

I’m so sorry, Haldir-

-with an apology that would remain unanswered and unacknowledged for the following years to come.

_____