Title & Chapter Number: An Unexpected Love 13-14/26
Author(s): - Author's Index
Website: Éowyn's Musings
Fandom: Middle Earth
Rating: NC-17
Disclaimer: All characters are J.R.R. Tolkien's, well; I'm playing with their feelings a bit :) I'm not writing to make any profit but for writing's sake, and because I love the world of Middle-Earth.
Warnings: Angst (I guess).
Betas: Undomiel ... you're a gem :)
Cast: Haldir/Éowyn
Timeline: TTT Movieverse AU
Spoilers: Some for Books & Movies
Summary: After loosing Aragorn to Legolas a broken and angry Éowyn finds love where she least expected it...
Notes: Haldir did not die at Helm's Deep, or did you see a grave? Basically I'm following the books and the movies. However I made some "slight" alterations :) Aragorn isn't in love with Arwen but with Legolas and they are already bound. Also, Éomer wasn't exiled but went to Helm's Deep with the rest of Théoden's army.
Chapter 13 – The Fields of the Pelennor
Translation of Elvish: Meleth nín – my love. Nín anoriel – my sun-maiden.
The path through the hills proved to be well chosen; from above they could see the fires of the orcs on the road, hear their foul voices. The Wild Men had told Théoden the truth. Soon the path turned south and descended once again to the main road. A small host was sent back to destroy the enemy. All around them the night air was filled with sounds of war. The sky in the south was red as if a great fire was burning ... Minas Tirith lay in that direction. Were they too late? Smoke was in the air and breathing became hard as they drew close to the besieged city.
Éowyn was still riding with the elves. But now other horsemen would ride up to her and bow their heads to their Lady. Indeed, everyone who knew that the Shield-maiden was with them was feeling stronger, braver than before. She smiled at those around her, but now fear began to take hold of her heart, fear that they might loose this maybe final battle. Fear that she might loose people she loved. Her hand gripped Haldir's tightly. Why had she given in, he could be save now. On his way to Lórien ... why had she let her heart decide?
The elf urged his horse towards her and moved his hand up to her cheek. She leaned into his touch, would she ever feel his hands upon her body again? “There is still time, nín anoriel. Time to turn back.” Her eyes were flashing. No, she would not run away. She was a fighter, Shield-maiden of the Riddermark. She only shook her head, feeling his finger close about her hand again. Her heart was filled with pain, but then...
Then suddenly she felt a change, wind upon her cheeks. The air not as heavy as before. She could again breathe freely. She could see the clouds in the south as great grey shapes. Light seemed to struggle with them; she prayed that the sun would win the battle. Song filled the air, a war song of the Riddermark. The horns of Rohan were blown and all of Gondor finally felt hope return to their hearts. Rohan had come at last.
Hearing the song, she felt strength return to her. She had to be with her own people now, with her family. She could not stay with the one she had given her heart to. The fear for him would only hinder her in battle. So Éowyn urged her horse forward, letting go of Haldir's hand. For a fleeting moment she turned her face to her lover, memorizing it. "Meleth nín," she whispered and then she was gone. Swept away in the flood of riders. Haldir tried to follow but it was too late.
~*~*~*~
Éowyn had finally found the King's host. They were fighting a path towards the city gate, and for the first time in her life did her sword meet flesh. The dark and terrible flesh of orcs. Soon her weapon was stained in the black blood of the cursed race, but she fought on wanting to kill as many orcs as possible.
Neither of them saw the dark shadow that was circling above them ... not until with a piercing scream the Nazgûl dived into their lines. Many riders were killed; the claws of the foul steed of the Ring-Wraith had destroyed many horses and now sank into the white horse of the King. Théoden himself lay on the ground, his backbone broken. Éowyn jumped off her horse, not waiting for the hobbit. And then she stood before the creature so many dreaded. With one swift stroke the steed of the Nazgûl was slain. But now the terror of the Witch-King reached out to her.
He was rising, towering over her, laughing his terrible laughter. “Run you fool, no man will ever kill me.” With one swift movement Éowyn took off her helmet, her hair falling about her freely. Behind her the clouds broke apart. The light of the dawning sun bathed her. Meriadoc was filled with awe as he saw her, no fear upon her face only resolve to rid the world of this evil creature forever. “It’s no man that you see before you, for I am Éowyn, Shield-maiden of the Mark, Lady of Rohan.”
The Nazgûl raised his weapon and thrust at the woman. Barely she could cover herself with her shield, but she felt a pain greater than anything in her arm. She couldn’t move it anymore and fell to her knees. The hobbit had crawled up to the Witch-King from behind, his dagger shining in his hand. His eyes met Éowyn’s and with one final effort she launched an attack upon the creature before her. The hobbit also attacked and together they felled the Lord of the Nazgûl. But even before his death-cry died down Éowyn fainted and only the arms of the hobbit stopped her head from hitting the hard ground.
~*~*~*~
Amidst the sounds of the battle he could hear a piercing scream, a Nazgûl. But this time it brought no more terror with it, quiet the contrary. The scream itself was filled with terror. Someone had undone the horrible creature. Felling orcs as he rode he came to the place the cry had come from. But he saw not the fallen stead of the Black Rider, nor the dead King. His eyes were fixed upon two persons, a small one, a hobbit, trying to hold up someone with long golden hair. But this was no elf. His vision, this dream ... but it could not be; it could not.
“Éowyn,” Haldir cried as he rushed to the Shield-maiden’s side. “What happened?” The hobbit raised his head. With a breaking voice he told Haldir what had come to pass. How Théoden had fallen to the Witch-King, how he then was challenged by Dernhelm, the Nazgûl’s laughter at this, and then his shock as the Lady of Rohan revealed herself. “We killed him, but I fear the Lady has taken a terrible wound from it, but I cannot see any blood...“ his voice trailed off.
The elf fell to his knees by the hobbit’s side. Carefully he took the limb body of Éowyn into his arms, her face turned to his. Her eyes were half closed and his voice almost broke as he called her again and again. Slowly she stirred, her eyes opening, looking up into Haldir’s midnight-blue eyes, which were now filled with terror. She tried to move her right hand to touch his face but failed, she could barely feel her right arm; it was cold as ice.
“What happened? My uncle...“ she looked around and saw the dead body of Théoden. She jerked back her head and cried out in sorrow. Haldir pressed her closer to his body, wishing he could bear the pain for her. His heartbeat heavily in his chest, a thought spinning in his mind, ‘I will loose her!’ With his left hand he touched her face, the face he had kissed only a few hours ago. Now it was contorted with pain. His hand moved down her left arm, hearing her whimper. Broken. He took her right hand into his and was shocked to feel it not warm but icy. His eyes widened with fear, the Black Breath was upon her. ‘Don’t leave me my love, my life’, his heart screamed.
The hobbit had busied himself among the bodies of the dead orcs around them, ignoring the pain that was building up in his right arm. He had found what he had been searching for, a small bottle filled with a clear liquid. This was the only thing that was not foul about this race. Pippin and he had been forced to drink this when they had been in the hands of the Uruk-hai of Saruman. So he knew of the life-restoring effect of the draught. He sipped a bit, and once again was able to raise himself onto his feet.
He stumbled back to the elf who looked up at him with grief beyond tears in his eyes. Meriadoc understood. Éowyn, and apparently he as well, had taken severe wounds from their battle. He held out the bottle, the elf staring at it puzzled. “Make her drink, it will restore her will to live, to fight.” Haldir nodded, taking the flask into his hand. “Éowyn, beloved, drink this,” he whispered softly to her. She raised her head to meet his eyes and he almost dropped the bottle. Her face was white as chalk, death written upon her brow. She had to force herself to swallow, but her voice was stronger when she cried out, “What is this, it burns like fire!”
Meriadoc kneeled down by her side, explaining the origin of the draught. Haldir almost reached out to throttle him and Éowyn’s eyes widened in terror, but at least she could feel her right side again. Haldir caught the hobbits eye, pointing at his saddlebag. As fast as he could he stumbled on his feet again and retrieved a small package from the elven lord’s horse. “Lembas, it will make her stronger. Eat some as well, young hobbit.” Haldir tried to keep his voice steady, but his fear for the one he loved was recognizable. Breaking a small piece of Lembas off he said, “Eat my love, eat for me.” She forced the elvish way bread down her throat, drank yet a bit more of the orc draught. She smiled weakly up at Haldir, the smile breaking his heart. “Don’t leave me,” he said hoarsely, “I cannot be without you.” His hand stroked her face, colour had returned to it, but also heat. She was burning under his fingers.
Éowyn could read in his eyes that she had been mortally wounded. She saw it in the way he looked at her, felt it in the way he held her, so close, as if he could not bear to be further away from her. “My arms?” Haldir sighed, “The left is broken, it will heal in due course. The right,” his voice broke, “Everything will be fine, trust me.” She longed to touch his face, to reassure him that she was there, that she was still with him. But all she could do was whisper,” I love you, I always will.”
The sound of hooves made them realize the situation they were in, the battle was still raging around them. But the voice she heard behind her filled her troubled heart with joy. “Aragorn has come, he’s driving orcs and Southrons into the river.” Only then did Éomer see his sister in the arms of the elf. “What is this, I told you to protect her with your life.” He jumped off his horse and rushed to his sister’s side.
Once again Meriadoc explained what had happened. Éomer’s eyes filled with sorrow and grief when he saw his fallen uncle. “Now it is your duty to lead our people. Hail, Éomer, King of the Riddermark,” Éowyn smiled at her brother. Seeing his troubled face she added, “Don’t worry, dearest brother, I shall be alright again.” Haldir looked away, tears starting to well from his eyes. The new king of Rohan raised himself and while mounting his horse again said to the elf, “She needs a healer, Haldir, I’m begging you, get her up to the Houses of Healing in the city. If she dies...”
Haldir looked up at him, “If she dies my life is worth nothing anymore. I would even thank you if you killed me...” Understanding came over Éomer. The elf really and truly loved his sister. “We both love her, we both want her to live. Haldir, I give her into your keeping again. Take her to the healers, she has to live!” With these words he was off again. Éowyn’s head rested on Haldir’s shoulder when he slowly stood up, lifting her off the ground.
Before he could make a hundred steps, Imrahil, Prince of Dol Amroth had appeared in front of them. Now his men were carrying the dead King into the city. Haldir had refused to let go of Éowyn, clinging to her as if she was filling him with life. “I love you,” she had whispered to him, “I always will.” He had whispered, his voice almost failing him, “Do not leave me, do not go! You are everything that matters to me in this world, what should I do without you?” She had smiled at him before she said the last words he had heard from her sweet lips, “I would have gone with you, lived with you for all eternity, Haldir, my only true love, forgive me, I can’t hold on, too much. The pain ... I can’t ... I love you, I love you...” Then she was gone, her breath getting shallower and shallower. Haldir looked up to the heavens above him, praying to the Valar. ‘Why did you give her to me, if you wanted to take her from me so soon again? Let her live, spare her!’
~*~*~*~
Chapter 14 - The Houses of Healing
Notes:
The city of Minas Tirith (Tower of Guard) is built upon the slopes of Mount Mindolluin. It consists of seven levels, each of them ringed by a strong wall.
Translation of Elvish:
Meleth nín – my love.
Nín anoriel – my sun-maiden. Avo awartho nin - do not abandon me.
meldiramin – my friend.
Athelas – beneficial leaf ... a healing plant brought to Middle-Earth by the Númenóreans.
Cuiamin – my life.Slowly Haldir ascended the road that led up to the seventh ring of the city. The Houses of Healing, he had been told, were close to the palace of the Stewart, just outside the innermost wall of the city. He held the limp body of Éowyn close to his own, cherishing every breath she took. She could not die, not now, not so soon. No tears came from his eyes; his grief was beyond tears.
Everyone that saw him felt a wave of pity fill their hearts. The proud elven warrior looked like a child that had lost his way. They saw the golden-haired maiden in his arms, thinking her an elf. But then someone recognized her and cried out, “It is the fair Lady of the Rohirrim, Éowyn, niece of the King of the Mark.” Haldir turned around shaking his head, “No longer is she the niece of the King of Rohan, sister she now is for Théoden is no more.” Silence fell around him. Théoden, their ally of old was dead. Éowyn barely alive. What hopes they had still in their hearts faded. They were doomed, and doom they had brought upon those who had come to aid them.
The elf read the fear upon the faces that were turned to him. He summoned all the strength that was left within him and said, ”But fear not, Éomer is King now. And he will see the end of this dark day. The Rangers of the North have also come to your assistance. Fear not, victory is at hand.” With that he continued his way, sending silent prayers to the Valar, ‘Let her see the new day as well...’
When he reached the Houses of Healing, he hesitantly gave his beloved over to the healers. He was by her side when they washed her face and hands, when they tended her broken arm. Then they turned their attention to her right arm, their faces falling. His heart broke when they said that there was no hope left for her, that the wound she had taken would eventually kill her.
He sank to his knees beside her bed, holding her cold hand in his, begging her to stay with him. He could not let go, there had to be a way, Galadriel had told him that there was one. Why had he never been interested in becoming a healer? Maybe elvish medicine could help her. But not even Legolas would be able to help him, the Prince had been forbidden to even go near the healer’s quarters in Mirkwood. Softly he whispered, “Nín anoriel, meleth nín, avo awartho nin.”
He felt despair creep into his heart. He had failed Éomer; he had not been able to save her life. She was gliding from his grasp, with every breath she took she moved closer to the shadow world that would soon consume her. All hope faded, if she died so would he. He would not remain in a world without his sun, his light, his everything.
Only when he heard the whispers between two nurses, hope grew in his heart again. “If only we had a king, ‘the hands of the king are the hands of a healer’ they said of old.” A king? Comprehension seeped into his mind ... Aragorn. Haldir jumped to his feet and ran to the nurses, his eyes blinking madly. “What did you just say?” The woman repeated her words, frightened of the tall elf before her.
Haldir turned back to Éowyn. “Forgive me my love, I shall not be away for long,” he said, kissing her forehead. “But there is hope left, our only hope...”
He flew back through the rings of the city, finally reaching the main gate. The battle had ended and he saw the captains walk up to the gate. Quickly his eyes searched and finally found the one he was looking for. The ranger was walking next to Legolas, his hand touching the elf’s as if by accident. Legolas was the first to notice the approaching elf. “Haldir, meldiramin...”
Haldir ignored the friendly greeting and said, “Aragorn come with me! No time for explanations.” The ranger looked at the elf astonished and turned to his lover. Legolas’ eyes were suddenly filled with grief as he read Haldir’s thoughts. “Éowyn,” he turned to Aragorn, “make haste, you are much needed.”
Soon they reached the Houses of Healing again and together they went into the chamber where Éowyn lay. Aragorn kneeled by her side and took her cold hand into his. “How...“ he began but already Haldir told him of what had happened. “A Nazgûl, then it’s the Black Breath. There only is one way to heal her, if any,” he turned around to the healer who stood by his side, curious to see if this dirty ranger could cure the woman when he could not. “I need athelas,” The healer looked at him puzzled. “Kingsfoil!” The man stared at Aragorn in disbelief, “But it holds no healing...” – “It holds more powers that your whole herb garden outside put together. Get me some.”
The healer bowed and disappeared. Aragorn now stood and turned to Haldir, “I can’t make any promises. She has been badly wounded, Haldir. She might yet die...” The Lórien elf was almost insane with agony. He reached for his sword and pointed it at the ranger’s throat. “Heal her or face me!” Legolas grabbed Haldir’s hand, slowly forcing him to lower the sword. “Haldir, I do not believe that it is her destiny to die, not here nor today.”
Before Haldir could reply the healer returned with some dried leaves of the plant Aragorn had requested. “A bowl with warm water, and be quick,” the ranger ordered. It was brought to him and he took one of the leaves and crushed it between his palms, casting it into the water. A scent of spring filled the air and light flooded the room. Aragorn took Éowyn’s cold hand and bathed it in the warm water, calling out her name.
Éomer burst into the room and beholding Haldir almost lost control over himself. “I asked you to protect her, you failed. And now you might fail me again. These people out there tell me that she is going to die.” His hand shot forward, closing around the elf’s neck. Haldir put up no defence, he only stared the new King of Rohan in the eye. “She may live yet,” Legolas said, stepping up to Éomer. Slowly he eased his grip on Haldir and suddenly turned towards the bed and stood by his sister’s side. “Éowyn, sister. Come back, come back to the people who need you, who love you.” He turned around and reached out for Haldir, “Come back to him and me.”
Aragorn had wet a piece of cloth in the scented water and now touched Éowyn’s pale face with it, still whispering her name. Haldir turned away, unable to bear the sight of his love’s dead-like face. His heart bled, wishing only for one thing, to join her in death. There could never be a life worth living for him if she was not in it. But then, suddenly...
A sigh, a deep sigh escaped Éowyn’s throat. Her breathing became steadier; her face was once again filled with colour. Aragorn sighed with relief. “She will live, she will live.” The healer stared at him in awe. When finally he was able to speak again he exclaimed, “Pray, there are two others who have a similar wound. Our beloved Lord Faramir and a halfling...” Aragorn nodded and followed the healer.
Haldir had taken over Aragorn’s place by Éowyn’s side. Her hand was still resting in the warm water. “We both have been granted a great gift today Haldir of Lórien. We should treasure it from this day forward.” Éomer stared into Haldir’s eyes. “But was it not your treasuring her beyond everything that made her choose this path? Éomer, she needs freedom, not a cage. Only when free will she blossom, a cage would destroy her.” Slowly Éomer nodded. “I will leave her in your keeping for now, I hope you won’t let me down again.” Then he was gone, leaving the two elves alone with his sister.
“You knew, did you not? You knew what she would be to me and yet you did not tell me. Why?” Haldir had always known that Legolas could see into the future of those he cared for deeply, and the Prince cared for the Chief Guardian. “I did, yes, I knew. But even had I told you, would you have believed me? The proud Warden of Lórien in love with a mere mortal? No, you would have laughed at me...” Haldir nodded, Legolas was right, as always.
“Only now can I understand your feelings for Aragorn. Forgive me if I was not as supportive as you could have expected it from a friend.” Legolas could hardly believe his ears. Haldir, arrogant Haldir was apologizing for something he had done? “What has come over you?” Haldir smiled and looked down upon the face of Éowyn, “She has, she filled my heart with love without even realizing it. I struggled against it, a hopeless effort. She made my soul complete. Legolas, she is the one I have longed for all of my life. Though I did not know it.”
Legolas placed his hand upon Haldir’s shoulder, “Well, you should start and believe the people around you,” he smiled and then continued in a stern voice, “She will live, we all should be thankful for that. She will live and be with you. She is meant to be with you.” He moved towards the door. “Now I will leave you. Even if we have won this battle, this was only a small part of Sauron’s force. We will have to make our next move soon.”
Now he was alone with his beloved again. Slowly he dried her hand, gasping at the feel of it. Warmth was returning to it, the ice was melting away. He took the small hand into his, kissing it softly. Suddenly he felt her move, holding on to him. His head flew up to look into her half-open eyes, a smile playing around her mouth. “Haldir,” her voice hardly audible. “You have returned to me, nín anoriel, meleth nín, cuiamin...” Haldir’s voice trailed off as he covered Éowyn’s face with kisses. “Never do this to me again, I need you, I cannot be without you.” Éowyn chuckled softly, “I gave you a promise, that I’d remind you of those words you said to me after Éomer left us last night. And haven’t I done that?”
“How dare you say such a thing, I thought I had lost you.” Éowyn moved her right hand carefully up to his face, stroking it softly. “Oh Haldir, you almost lost me, almost. But I’m here with you. I love you, meleth nín.” She pulled his face down and kissed his lips. “My Lord of Night and Silver, I love you...”
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