Wild Oats
Synopsis: The tide of evil laps perilously close to Lothlórien, and Galadriel decides that the realm needs a proper army. A noble house of Rivendell is enlisted to build a cavalry, and whilst the Galadhrim undergoes the most dramatic overhaul in centuries, Haldir begins to mull over the enormity of a life without any endings. Set more than a century before the War of the Ring. HaldirOC.
Author's Note:
I have always wanted to write a Lord of the Rings story. I oscillated between Haldir and Legolas for ages, and I finally settled for a Haldir/OC. This will not be a long story, I've sketched out the story line and it should be around 7 to 8 chapters long. This is a romance, but if you are looking for a happily-ever-after you are at the wrong place. Rating will go up in future chapters.
I did the best research I could regarding the military and geography of Lothlórien, but sources are patchy and I have made various assumptions along the way. I am happy to answer any questions on points of uncertainty - I've heard Lord of the Rings readers are notoriously picky!
TA 2901
Haldir had acted foolishly.
His boots slipped precariously on the floor of the infirmary, which was caked with mud and blood. They had lost no one, but the fighting was protracted and night had long fallen before all the wounded were carried back to the safety of Caras Galadhon.
It was supposed to be nothing more than a skirmish.
A small band of orcs had been sighted lurking at the outer edges of the Golden Wood that faced the Mines of Moria. The Lady's magic repelled them from actually entering Lothlórien, but the shadows of evil had lengthened in the times of late, and Haldir was unwilling to take any risks.
It was meant to be a short and straightforward mission to flush them out.
What it was not meant to be was an ambush.
The orcs were drilled, there was no doubt about that. They attacked in coordinated waves instead with blind force, with shieldsmen fronting the march, flanked by bowmen with impressive accuracy and range. They managed to inflict some serious damage.
Haldir had to call on two reserves to contain and eventually quell the enemy. They retreated, only a handful of badly injured orcs left, as the sun set on the debacle.
Rúmil sat down heavily next to Haldir, his shoulder now bandaged after having an arrow pulled out. He clucked, good-natured as ever, and said, "Why the long face, brother? I think we showed marvelous prowess out there."
"This is no jesting matter," replied Haldir through clenched teeth.
It was in fact, an exceedingly humiliating episode. He had recklessly led his men into peril, and it was by the Valar's grace that there were no casualties. His head throbbed with guilt, and his tired body thrummed with embarrassment and ill temper.
"I am not jesting," said Rúmil. "That was the closest thing we've had to a battle in a long while, brother. Peace has made us rusty."
Haldir sat up straighter when he felt a tingling at the back of his mind. The Lady was here.
She glowed silver and gold, and he half expected her to walk right on top of the grime and blood, but she did not. The hem of her heavy white gown was smeared crimson as she paid her respects to the wounded.
Haldir rose stiffly to his feet alongside Rumil when Galadriel approached. Her very proximity dulled the aches in his joints and soothed the frown on his brow. He bowed his head low and said grimly, "I shoulder all the responsibility for this travesty, my Lady."
"I seek not to place blame, Marchwarden. Your men fought bravely and I have not a shadow of doubt that you did the best you could," answered Galadriel gently. "I will tend to the wounded now, but we shall have a discussion tomorrow morning. Rest well."
Haldir nodded solemnly. "Thank you, my Lady."
"And you Rúmil, I trust you are not seriously wounded?"
In typical fashion, he winked boldly at Galadriel. "Thank you for your concern, my Lady, but alas, it takes more than a hundred orcs to take me down."
The corners of her beautiful blue eyes crinkled in a smile. "I am very glad to hear that."
A healer with bloodied hands appeared in Haldir's line of vision, and she timidly called out to Galadriel. "My Lady, there is a Sentinel who requires your assistance."
With one last reassuring smile, she nodded and left the brothers to themselves. Haldir very nearly winced as all the pains in his body returned full force.
Rúmil retook his seat with a sigh. "I have never heard the Lady raise her voice, but there's a first for everything."
Haldir shot his brother a hard look, and without another word, he strode out of the infirmary and into the deepening chill of the Lórien night.
Blue eyes snapped to consciousness as Haldir awoke from his slumber. It was the deepest rest he had taken for an age, but as he sat up, he still felt a wave of absolute exhaustion wash over him.
Then he felt Galadriel's silent summons.
His bed creaked as he swung his legs over the edge, and he allowed himself a visible wince as his bones cracked. He fully felt the full two thousand years that he was.
Haldir allowed himself to be guided by an invisible thread to the garden where the Lady kept her mirror. She was lingering by the basin, but he could see that it was empty. She looked up with a smile when he approached.
"My Lady," he said, holding his hand over his heart.
"Evil grows in the East, Marchwarden," said Galadriel. "That band of orcs will not be the last to venture into the Elven realm. We need to be prepared."
He nodded in agreement, but stayed silent as she walked slowly across the glade to sit on a stone bench.
"Do you know of Eöl Malthalonel?"
Haldir furrowed his brow in thought. "The horse breeder from Rivendell?"
"His youngest child has just finished an apprenticeship in Rohan and is looking for somewhere to stay. I sent a letter of welcome."
He was surprised, very surprised, but he kept his emotions in check. "You intend to build a cavalry, my Lady?"
Galadriel met his eyes stoically. "Your Galadhrim serves me well within Lórien, Marchwarden, but we must take stronger measures in the rising tide of evil. If war descends on us, we cannot hide behind our forests. We need an army, and an army needs a cavalry."
Haldir took a few strides towards the mirror and stared into the dry basin. He knew better than to question the Lady's wisdom, and yet - he felt her probe the back of his head and he stopped thinking.
Galadriel smiled reassuringly and stood up. "Malthalonel is the oldest house of horse breeders in Middle Earth and Eöl is a master strategist of cavalries. His children grew up in the saddle. We need their help, Haldir."
After a brief pause, he sighed and said, "Very well, my Lady. I shall prepare the men for the imminent changes."
Just as she was about to walk pass him, she reached out and laid a serene hand on his forearm. "And tell them to give our guest a very warm welcome."
Haldir was returning from combat training to find five new horses in the courtyard.
Ah, the Malthalonel heir had arrived.
A groom appeared from the stables and bowed. "Marchwarden, Lady Galadriel requests your presence immediately. She is in the Library."
He nodded tersely, and ordered, "Very well. Tell Elerossë to prepare my horse, I will take him out for a ride when I return."
The stables were located just outside of Caras Galadhon, south of the river that ran through the entire length of Lothlórien, not far from Haldir's own talan. He now walked briskly across the flat land where the horses trained, crossing the bridge into the city. Elves nodded in respect as he walked purposefully through the quiet paths and up a myriad of stairs until he reached the Lady's favourite library in the realm.
Despite the daylight filtering through the treetops, candles warmed the space and cast it in a golden light. Galadriel stood with her side to him, talking with a cloaked figure. Haldir paused by the threshold and announced his presence. "You asked for me, my Lady?"
"Ah, very good of you to join us, Marchwarden," replied Galadriel warmly, shutting the book in her hands. "It gives me great pleasure to present to you Nerthriel of the house Malthalonel, Eöl's youngest child."
The figure turned around and the hood tumbled off a head of dark locks, and a split second of confusion caught Haldir completely off guard.
It was an elleth.
Nerthriel Malthalonel bowed her head and said, "Pleasant greetings, my lord."
His face set in nonchalance, he returned the gesture. "The pleasure is all mine, my lady."
Galadriel clasped Nerthriel's hand heartily and turned to him. "Will you show lady Nerthriel to her talan, Marchwarden? She has ridden far and I am sure she is exhausted. We can discuss things tomorrow morning."
Nerthriel bowed her head. "Thank you for your generosity, my Lady. I will be honoured if the Marchwarden will accompany me to the stables first so I can see to the comfort of my horses."
Haldir nodded. "Certainly, come with me, lady Nerthriel."
Gesturing for the lady to exit the library first, Haldir glanced back briefly at Galadriel, whose eyes seemed to flicker with amusement before her attention returned to her book.
Haldir observed Nerthriel Malthalonel silently as they descended the stairs. He did not know what to think, and Galadriel certainly did not give him much time to do so.
She looked young, perhaps more than a few centuries his junior. He had no hesitation in admitting that the thought of working with someone like her was unsettling. He was a firm believer of hierarchy, of battle hardened experience -
"I know what is on your mind."
Haldir looked up sharply. "I beg your pardon?"
Nerthriel had stopped walking to look back at him. "I may be an elleth, Marchwarden, and I might be younger than you, but I will not take being made light of."
"You will find that it is not my intention at all, my lady," he returned coolly.
She looked at him doubtfully. "I find no purpose in beating around the bushes. I am young, yes, but I know my craft. If it is a cavalry Lothlórien needs, then it is a cavalry I will build you. But for that to happen, you need to work with me, Marchwarden."
Haldir did not try to hide his slight scoff of disbelief. "You are awfully confident, lady Nerthriel."
She actually smiled at that before resuming her descent. "I have found that a large ego is necessary for a large group of men to listen to you."
"You will find that the only necessity is proof, my lady." They had reached the foot of the stairs, and Haldir took the lead. "This way to the stables."
He could hear the soft swish of hair as Nerthriel swung her head side to side to admire the beauty of Lórien, Fall was beginning to show, the tips of the green Mallorn leaves starting to fade into a soft gold. Haldir felt an inevitable surge of pride in his homeland.
Before long they reached the stables, which was abuzz with activity as the riding party led by Orophin had just returned from their outing. The men greeted Haldir and bowed at Nerthriel with cautious curiosity, presumably unaccustomed to the sight of an elf in foreign garb. The insignia of Rohan, a galloping horse, was woven proudly on the front of her tunic.
She now stopped at the side of a handsome dark bay tethered to a post, who pricked up his ears at the sight of Haldir.
"He is a handsome stallion," he remarked, and he meant it. He did not easily surrender compliments.
Nerthriel walked around him and picked up a saddle from the ground. "His name is Beorn. His lineage can be traced back to my great-grandfather's sire."
Haldir observed the stallion's powerful muscles and intelligent eyes as his master saddled him up. "It must be a fine lineage."
She smiled and stood on her tiptoes to slip the bridle on. "Legend has it that my great-grandfather tamed a descendent of Felaróf, so Beorn might have Mearas blood in him."
Haldir moved to make way for the horse and rider as they moved away from the tethering post. "And the others?"
"I brought them from Rohan," replied Nerthriel, pulling on a pair of leather gloves and slung a small bow and quiver over her shoulder. "I have been training them for five years and they are extremely intelligent. If you need a cavalry, you need clever horses."
Haldir watched her mount her steed and nearly turned to leave, only to have her voice stop him.
"I want you to shoot at me."
He stared. "I beg your pardon?"
Gathering up the reins after she was done adjusting the stirrups, she repeated with a grin that was almost arrogant. "I said, shoot at me, Marchwarden."
"I shall do no such thing," he answered sternly, feeling a most vexing bewilderment rise within him.
Wheeling Beorn around, Nerthriel looked over her shoulder and instructed, "Shoot straight, Marchwarden, or you will kill me."
As she cantered up the straight road that stretched from the stables to the river Anduin, Orophin and a few of his men came up to stand beside Haldir. "What is she doing, brother?"
Haldir did not reply. From a furlong away, Beorn had come to a halt and turned around, tossing his head. And then just as abruptly, Nerthriel started cantering towards the stables.
He barely heard the oaths of surprise that escaped the Sentinels as he reached back for his bow and arrows. He shot at her five times, shooting straight as she commanded. Every time she dodged in time, and for each of the last two arrows she fired one back, forcing him to duck as his last arrow deflected hers.
Nerthriel was pulling Beorn to a halt as Haldir got onto his feet. Shouldering her bow and patting Beorn fondly on the neck, she looked at him straight in the eye, and asked, "Will you work with me, Marchwarden?"
He gave her a long, hard look, and then conceded. "Gladly, my lady."
Haldir realised only days later that she had not meant to prove the point to him. The escapade was in fact for the benefit of the Sentinels - some of whom became part of the future cavalry - that were in the audience with him.
A/N: I have kept the first chapter deliberately short to retain some mystery. Needless to say, Nerthriel is not intended to be a Mary Sue, and I hope she does not come across as one. Constructive criticism is very much welcomed.
I will only continue this story if there is enough interest in it, so do leave a review if it looks like something you will enjoy reading more of. I make a point of replying to all my reviewers, so make sure you login if you want a response!