Title & Chapter Number: Nestadren Faer 7/?
Author(s): - Author's Index
Website: Heather Lynn's Page
Fandom: Tolkien
Rating: NC-17
Disclaimer: The characters, settings, places, and languages used in this work are the property of J R R Tolkien, the Tolkien Estate and Tolkien Enterprises. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.
Warnings: sex, warlike violence
Betas: Marta
Cast: Haldir/OFC
Timeline: It begins at the Battle of Helm's Deep
Spoilers: There will be RotK spoilers for those that have not read the book!!!
Summary: The elves are at Helm's Deep. Mereniel, a Rivendell elf warrior, is also a healer. Will she be able to heal Haldir and herself physically as well as spiritually?
Notes:
Haldir stormed down the steps to the kitchen, past all the surprised servants to the King’s wine cellar. He grabbed the first three bottles of wine he came across and stomped out of the kitchens towards his brothers’ room. Without knocking he slammed open the door making Orophin and Rúmil jump from the chairs they were seated in. They could tell from his entrance and the sour look on his face that he was in a foul mood.
“Haldir, please come in!” Orophin remarked.
Haldir crossed the room and threw himself down in a chair at the table with his brothers. He put a bottle in front of each of them and pulled the cork from his, taking a long swig from it. He wiped the back of his hand across his mouth and slammed the bottle down on the table, almost spilling its contents.
Orophin and Rúmil watched him for a moment before pulling the corks out of their bottles and taking a drink. They knew they were in for a long night. Haldir stared at the table. “She is insufferable!” Haldir muttered, gritting his teeth. He picked up the wine again and took several gulps before setting it down again.
Rúmil smiled at Orophin. “Mani naa ta, muindor?” Rúmil asked, choosing his words carefully.
“She spoils that child!” Haldir blurted, slamming his fist on the table. “Mereniel thinks that because he lost his family, it is all right for him to do whatever he wants. He walks all over her. She is angry with me and said I do not have any compassion!”
“You? No compassion?” Orophin exclaimed with a laugh.
“Tira ten' rashwe, Orophin,” Haldir said crossly, looking up from the table at his brother from under knitted brows. He leaned back in his chair and drank some more wine, having finished more than half of his bottle and beginning to feel the wine’s affects.
He took a deep breath to try and calm down. His thoughts went back to the last thing that Mereniel had said to him, about losing family. He remembered back to when he was just a few years older than Déodred, to the day he lost his father and mother to an orc attack. Galadriel had taken his brothers and him under her care and raised them as her own children. He thought about how she held them to comfort them, wiping away their tears, much the same way Mereniel was doing with Déodred. Feelings of guilt pushed their way into Haldir’s mind at how he had treated Mereniel and Déodred.
“I have been uncompassionate,” Haldir said with a sigh. “Forgive me, Orophin, for snapping at you.”
“There is nothing to forgive, Haldir,” Orophin said, patting Haldir on the back.
Orophin and Rúmil knew how Haldir could be. After their parents died, Haldir tried to be there for his brothers, but somewhere along the way he had lost himself. He shut himself in, not letting anyone in except Orophin and Rúmil, and even then it was limited. At a young age Haldir took on the roll of a warden of Lórien’s borders. Haldir never attached himself to any of the elleths of Lórien; he appeared to be his happiest in the lonely seclusion of the trees. They knew there was more to Mereniel than what Haldir was letting on; their brother had never acted in this was about any elleth before.
“You have feelings for this elleth from Rivendell?” Orophin asked.
Haldir sat up and put his elbows on the table with his face in his hands. He closed his eyes and rubbed at his temples, feeling a headache coming on from the wine. “I don’t know what I am feeling.”
“You have been through a lot, my brother,” Rúmil said. “Darkness has fallen over Middle-earth as well as your heart. Our time here is growing short.” Rúmil put his arm around Haldir’s shoulder and gave him a consoling embrace. “It is obvious that you do have feelings for Mereniel and she for you. Don’t be afraid to show them; too long you have been alone. Lift the darkness from you heart and show her who you are.”
“Sometimes I question who I am,” Haldir said before downing the rest of his wine. He put the bottle down and pointed to Rúmil’s bottle. “Are you going to drink it?” Haldir asked. Rúmil shook his head. Haldir took Rúmil’s bottle and stood up, walking towards the door. “I will see you in the morning.”
Haldir wandered along the wall, looking off in the direction of Lórien. It would take a few days to get back to his home, he thought, longing to be at his post on the borders. There he didn’t have to deal with matters of the heart. There he was most comfortable, amongst the trees, protecting his home and its people. But he knew his life would never go back to normal. Haldir reached into his pocket and pulled out the lock of hair tied with the red silk ribbon. He held it up to his nose and inhaled deeply, Mereniel’s scent rocking his senses. Haldir sat on the wall and drank the wine, stroking the hair in his fingers while in deep thought. His bottle of wine running low and his head feeling woozy, he went to the stairway to return to their room.
Déodred having cried himself to sleep, Mereniel tucked him back in bed and stood at the window. The night was clear and the air was crisp. She looked down at the ruins of the Deeping Wall, at the jagged edges of rock and mortar. The scene reflected much of her feelings at the moment, broken and irreparable. She felt as though her heart had been twisted inside her chest. All the feelings she had felt for Haldir had been crushed. Tomorrow they would leave for Lórien and from there Mereniel would return to Rivendell, where she could forget about her feelings and concentrate on her duties and Déodred.
“Who am I trying to fool?” Mereniel said out loud to herself. She knew she would never forget the March Warden of Lórien. She shook her head and went to her bed, took off her shoes and gown and climbed under the sheets in her chemise. She lay there for what seemed like hours listening to the night, wondering if Haldir would come back tonight, until sleep finally took her.
Mereniel fell into a fitful dream. She was not in the familiar surrounds of Rivendell but in a forest of tremendous silver-barked trees with golden leaves. There was a heavy mist in the air and she felt lost. She was wandering aimlessly, as if in search of something or someone. She began to run, stumbling over roots hidden by leaves and debris on the forest floor. She felt pain, both her own and of someone else. It wasn’t from a physical wound, but something much deeper.
She could make out a small clearing in the distance, but it was surrounded by thick brush full of thorns. As she neared it, the feeling of pain grew stronger. She struggled to get through the brush, but the thorns tore at her clothing. The more she struggled the more she seemed to get stuck. In the thick mist she could make out a figure, a person, standing in the clearing holding out their hand. She called for help but the figure began to fade in the mist. She began to cry, the thorns digging into her flesh as she struggled to free herself. Just before the figure faded into the thickening haze she heard a voice say, “Don’t fight it.”
Mereniel sat up in bed covered in sweat, the cool night air making her shiver. The room was dark and silent; the air had taken on an ominous feeling of dread. She got out of bed and checked on Déodred, pulling up the covers that he had kicked off in his sleep. She went to the window and looked out over the landscape. Not a star could be seen as an eerie darkness filled the night sky.
She heard movement coming from across the room and noticed Haldir lying on the couch sleeping, an empty bottle of wine on the floor next to him and his boots still on his feet. She went to her bed and pulled off one of the blankets and covered him. Even in his sleep his face seemed to hold some deep sadness. She ran her fingers over the smooth skin of his cheek, wondering what had happened in his life to make Haldir so rigid and cold. She knew that there was warmth deep inside him that he would sometimes let out when his guard was down. Mereniel enjoyed that part of him and wished he would let more of that show. She placed a gentle kiss on his lips and returned to her bed.
The next morning Mereniel woke up to find Haldir gone. It was still dark outside, though Mereniel knew the night was gone. The sky was dark but she could faintly make out the sun on the horizon behind the gloom. The darkness was coming from Mordor. Déodred was still asleep so Mereniel took advantage of the time to pack up their belongings. One of the kitchen servants arrived a short time later with some breakfast. “The Elf Captain asked me to bring you this,” the girl said and placed the food on the table.
“Thank you,” Mereniel said as Déodred hopped out of his bed to come sit at the table. Mereniel got him fed, dressed and packed up the remaining food to bring with them. After a final look around the room, they closed the door and Mereniel led Déodred down the stairs to where the elves would be gathering to leave.
Mereniel spotted Haldir in the crowd, sitting on a horse and wearing the red cloak that he had on the night of the battle. Haldir turned towards them and caught her eye. She gave him a smile, which he responded to with a curt nod and returned to talking with his regiment. Mereniel’s heart sank in her chest; the cold Haldir had returned. A stable boy handed Mereniel the reins of a horse. She tied her pack to the saddle, lifted Déodred up and climbed up behind him.
“Maer aur, Mereniel!” rang two voices simultaneously from behind her. Rúmil and Orophin came up beside her. “Good morning, Déodred!” Déodred grabbed hold of Mereniel’s cloak and tried to hide in its folds.
“He’s a bit shy and quiet this morning,” Mereniel said. “I think he may be anxious about our journey.”
“Don’t worry, Déodred,” Rúmil said, tapping on Déodred’s small boot. “We will be good friends by the time we reach Lórien.”
Orophin noticed that Mereniel was staring at Haldir with a cheerless look in her eyes. “Don’t mind him today. He is in a bad mood. I think he had a bit too much wine last night,” Orophin said with a jovial smile. “But then again, he is cranky a good deal of the time!”
“Mount up!” Haldir yelled to the group of elves. Orophin and Rúmil rode next to Mereniel and got in line with the other elves; Mereniel watched as Haldir led them down the causeway. He stopped when he reached the bottom to wait for them to pass. When Mereniel passed by, he held her gaze with a blank stare. He is still mad at me, she thought sadly to herself. The dark sky that they rode under didn’t help anyone’s mood. Mereniel wrapped Déodred tight in her cloak to keep out the chill morning air.
Haldir had a terrible headache and the pounding of horse’s hooves drilled into his temples. He watched Mereniel and Déodred ride by, not knowing what to say to her. He felt like a fool over how he had acted last night and getting drunk afterwards instead of talking things out with Mereniel. After all the elves had passed him, he galloped towards the head of the line and slowed his horse as he approached Mereniel and his brothers. Déodred peeked out from within Mereniel’s cloak as Haldir came up beside them. Haldir winked at him making Déodred smile. He looked into Mereniel’s eyes and saw her sadness; it nearly broke his heart. He gave her a sheepish smile before galloping off to lead the elves home to Lórien.
~*~*~*~
Mani naa ta, muindor = what is it, brother
Tira ten' rashwe = be careful~ Next Chapter ~
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