Title & Chapter Number: Legends 12/16
Author(s): - Author's Index
Fandom: Tolkien
Rating: NC17
Disclaimer: This world and its creatures belong to J.R.R Tolkien, New Line Cinema and Peter Jackson. I've just bullied my way in long enough to right a wrong. You know the one I mean. (Haldir deserves better…) I receive no financial compensation for the following tale. I "do this for love."
Warnings: Explicit het sex; a few slashy references
Betas: Telbeth the Indefatigable
Cast: Haldir/OCF (a Maia, no less!); Rumil, Orophin, Galadriel, Celeborn, Aragorn, and a few original critter characterizations
Timeline: 3rd Age of Middle Earth during the War of the Rings -After the visit of the Fellowship to Lothlorien through the Battle at Helm's Deep
Spoilers: None
Summary: During a border patrol, Haldir discovers a lone Nazgul horse and a strange visitor with an annoying attitude and some very spooky skills. Things unfold deliciously until a deception and a surfeit of pride cause them to separate. They are re-united at Helm's Deep with an entirely different outcome, of course. Horses and dragons and crows…oh, my!
Notes: Dedication - Hennaid to my friend Sulien for nagging me into this romp and forcing me to learn Sindarin (well, pidgin Sindarin); to Craig Parker for gifting us with his interpretation of Haldir, and to my amazing husband for being…well…amazing!
Setting: Helm's Deep
Timing: The battle at Helm's DeepThe din of massing armies was painful to the Guardian's sharp ears, but even more unsettling was the greeting he received from Isildur's heir when he arrived with his archers. He found himself crushed in Aragorn's arms, the ranger's face buried in his hair. He could feel the man breathing in deeply, as if filling his lungs with Elven life force. Haldir hesitated, bemused, and then returned the embrace.
"Once again you come to me when I need you most," Aragorn whispered against his ear. "By the Valar, the sight of you is dear to me."
The Elven soldiers had traveled to Helm's Deep with signature swiftness, blue capes flowing like a living river. Only the breeze-like hush of their soft boots had marked their passing. And now they stood ready to join with men to defeat the Orcish tide that would soon break against the walls of the Hornburg.
~*~*~*~
Illume guided the black through the brutish army using knees and hands alone. She dared not speak lest she be unmasked. She could disguise her form within the folds of her hooded black cape and match her skin to her surroundings, but she could not emulate the voices of the Nazgul. So she rode silently. And as she had hoped, the Orc warriors avoided contact with her. It would not occur to them to question or interfere with a Nazgul as he made his way to the front of the ranks.
As she advanced, Illume was able to see the line of Elven bowmen in their positions on the Deeping Wall, firing volley after volley into the roiling horde below. All around her, arrows pierced the crude armor of dark warriors. All around her the Orc army advanced over the bodies of its own dead. The din and stench had her ears ringing and stomach clenching, but still she pressed forward.
And then she saw him –the Guardian. He stood in the middle of the line of archers, helmet less, moon-gilt hair a pale beacon in the murk. His russet cloak, chosen and gifted to him by the Lady Galadriel, glowed like a signal fire among his troops.
Galadriel... When Illume discovered that the Lord and Lady of Lothlorien had sent Haldir to Helm's Deep, the Elf queen had found herself in an unusual circumstance - on the sharp edge of a tongue even older than her own. To Illume, it had not mattered that Haldir had volunteered. Nor had it mattered that the battle he would join concerned all of Middle Earth. It only mattered that Haldir would be in grave peril.
And so, after many ages, Illume found herself on a battlefield once more. She gazed up at this most precious elf, and -even as she drank in the sight of him - she silently cursed him for presenting the enemy with such an irresistible target.
All along the vast Deeping Wall crude ladders stretched their splintery arms upward. As Illume approached the nearest of these, she was mindful that she also presented a desirable target. What elven warrior could resist attempting to put an arrow into the dark heart of a Ringwraith?
There was the black to consider, as well. He would carry her into the fires of Udun if she asked it of him. She would not. She slipped from his back. The black fidgeted and spun to and fro, unhappy with the nearness of the melee and the increased danger to his two-foot friend. She calmed him with a hand to his neck, and pulled his head down to her, wishing she had Haldir's mind-speak ability.
"You must leave this place," she whispered into his ear. "Save yourself that we may meet again! Now GO!" He half reared but would not leave her.
"Go!" she yelled aloud as she chameleoned out of sight. The Orcs nearest her spun toward the sound of a distinctly female voice within their midst just as her black "Nazgul" robe fluttered to the ground.
There was a sharp report…a slap against hide… and the black sprinted off in the direction from which he had just come. The witnesses to these oddities glanced about in search of Morgul dangers. The danger came in the form of a sharp rebuke from the nearest Uruk-hai commander, and the flat of his sword against the helm of the nearest Orc. This elicited a new flurry of activity, more ladders hoisted to the wall, more troops scrambling to climb.
Illume was already half way up one of these structures when she realized the Uruk-hai ahead of her was climbing at a much slower pace than she. To make matters worse, the archers atop the wall were raining arrows down upon the bulky creature. She studied the muscular backside looming above her and thanked the Valar briefly for this temporary shield.
She climbed slowly behind him until they were nearly at the top, then, in a quicksilver movement, snagged a passing arrow out of mid-air. She drew back her arm and jammed the sleek arrowhead deep into the heavy muscle of the Uruk-hai's buttock. He grunted and reached back to remove the irritant. This exposed the hilt of his knife, which Illume quickly unsheathed. In moments, the great dark body pitched away to the base of the ladder, his own knife imbedded between the overlapping plates of his armor.
Unimpeded at last, she slipped over the lip of the wall into a new chaos.
The battlement seemed a dark blur of combat. Some of the Elven troops were still firing down into the enemy soldiers below; some had reverted to personal combat with the Orcs who had successfully scaled the wall.
Illume spotted Haldir several yards away, fighting with sword and knife. The lethal grace of his movements was eerily framed within a growing wreath of dark, brutish bodies at his feet. She retrieved a blade from the bloody stone floor and began to work her way toward him.
In the melee, none of the combatants noticed the begrimed sword that seemed to advance on its own through mid-air. Illume used this advantage to dispatch several dark warriors along her way.
And then she saw him fall. She was only feet away when a heavy blade slammed into Haldir's back, bearing him to the ground. The scream that raked its way out of Illume's throat was heard even above the din of battle, and for a fleeting moment, there seemed to be a pause in the combat around her.
Out of the murk, Aragorn appeared, sprinting toward the fallen Guardian. He fell to his knees and carefully, gently - as if handling a newborn - gathered the Elf's body to him. His face twisted in sorrow and he placed his hand over the heart of the still form, stunned by this inconceivable loss. All too soon, a new assault forced him to relinquish the Guardian. The focus of the battle was shifting away toward the main keep. Grief turned to fury as Aragorn rose and leapt toward the new threat.
Illume scrabbled forward, desperate to get to Haldir before his life was beyond her keeping. In her haste, she damaged two more Orcs who sprawled in a bleeding heap near the dying Elf. She scrambled over them and threw herself down by his side.
Frantically, she probed the leaf-like plates of his armor, seeking the thin slits where they overlapped. She clawed her way through the fabric underneath, tearing still-warm flesh in her efforts. Silently, she promised to mend the ragged skin later. Heart and breath must be saved first.
She inhaled deeply and grounded herself. A pale dawn-colored light bloomed where her hands lay between the leaves of Haldir's breastplate, growing in intensity and deepening in hue until he was suffused in a brilliant orange glow. Illume directed her energies to the repair of his torn heart and punctured lung. His mangled spine and other injuries would have to wait until she could remove him from this place.
Mere feet away, the wounded Orcs stared at the light emanating from the body of the fallen Elf commander. As they watched dumbfounded, the buckles and bracings of his armor seemed to open on their own and the armor threw itself aside. As the Elf's head and shoulders levitated from the stones the Orcs drew back, wary of the strange sorcery afoot. And then they heard a bodiless voice…
"Haldir, lasto beth nin, meleth. You must call down the dragon. Call for Dolen." Illume held his head and shoulders in her lap and slid her hands around his body.
"You must save us both. Call Dolen. Scales as bright as mithril, wings as full as Gwaehir's own, swift and beautiful as a Teleri ship…" She chanted a word picture to him as she worked to stop the worst of his blood loss.
Haldir stirred. His eyes remained glassy but Illume could see the small line that always appeared at the inside corner of his right eyebrow when he frowned. An image was forming in his head. It was a misty view of Helm's Deep from far above, getting sharper, sharper. He saw the Hornburg, the Deeping Wall, then himself through the creature's eyes. And then he heard its voice…a soft chirping. A strangely sweet sound in this violated place. It drew nearer until it seemed to bearing down upon him...
The dragon landed with elegant precision directly atop the wounded Orcs. They never saw their doom as she, like Illume, could cloak herself in the manner of a chameleon – skin changing to reflect her surroundings. Appearing as nothing more than a watery blur, she arched her sinuous neck over the fallen Elf and snuffled gently.
"Dolen, precious friend," Illume greeted her. "We must remove him from this place!"
Through the haze of his pain, Haldir felt a puff of sweet, steamy air against his face and slowly focused his eyes. He could see nothing but the heart wrenching carnage of battle and the obscenely flattened Orc bodies lying next to him. But he had heard Illume…could smell her…felt her arms about him. She was here - and another creature. …The one with the small voice and warm honey breath.
"We are leaving, meleth. It will hurt for a while, but all will be well. "
"Aragorn…"Haldir mouthed.
"Well and fighting still," Illume soothed.
Haldir's eyes slid to the fallen Elves, scattered like so many spent leaves upon the stone parapet. "My people…"
"They are beyond my help," Illume whispered. "But you are not. We must leave now."
She pulled him up and dragged him over the unseen Dolen then clambered aboard by feel and settled herself behind the dragon's wings. She arranged Haldir face-down across her lap and laid her hands over the ugly rent that ran half the length of his spine. Rendered unconscious by the jolting to his back, Haldir lay still as the trio lifted off and winged away toward the North.
~*~*~*~
Dialog translations from Sindarin:
Lasto beth nin, meleth – Listen to my words, love
Dolen – Hidden~*~*~*~
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