Disclaimer: Standard disclaimer applies – not mine, no money, just for fun. First LOTR fic and I'm far from an expert on the subject matter so please be kind.

Thanks Sarah! You're the greatest!!

Chapter 7

A Matter of Time

"That is how it happened. What was I thinking? I am a fool!"

Arwen bit her lower lip thoughtfully. Helm's Deep. How many Elves had been at Helm's Deep? Many. How many would have the temerity to climb a wall and invade a woman's bedchamber? How many would have taken a woman to bed, although it had seemed nothing less than chivalrous the way Éowyn had described it. Her answer would have had to be none at all, except for the obvious fact that she would have been wrong.

She took a deep breath. It wasn't her place to ask whom, no matter how much her curiosity begged to be assuaged. Instead, she focused on the woman before her and the problem presented by the precious little girl sitting quietly at her side.

"Will you tell him?" she asked.

"What?"

"Will you tell him of the child? He would want to know, I would think. Although, I'm sure given the circumstances, I could understand if you didn't want to say anything…" Éowyn was already shaking her head.

"No, no, you see, I talked him into it. It wasn't at all what he wanted. And besides, he is…" Éowyn gulped, "deceased."

"Oh…I see." It seemed Éowyn's story was much like many tales of woe Arwen had heard after the war; a brief night of passion, lovers killed in battle, mothers without husbands, children without names. Elves never had this kind of accident; they had control over the moment of conception, but Arwen was reminded that it was the female not the male who had the power to choose and Éowyn was not an Elf.

"It is a sad tale you tell, Éowyn," she said. "I am truly sorry. I could tell you things about him, if you liked?

"What?"

"The father, this Elf. He would be someone I would know, surely. He would have come from Rivendell or Lothlórien. Both places have been my home at times over the years."

"What?" Éowyn repeated blankly.

"You do know his name, do you not?" Éowyn shook her head slowly. "I don't remember. How awful is that," she mumbled and dropped her head. "I can't recall…" Her eyes appeared glazed, as if she were having trouble taking all of this in. But the baby moved on the bed, at last giving into a normal child-like need to hold the beautiful toy. Éowyn was there immediately to rescue it, handing it off to Arwen and pulling the now squirming baby onto her lap. She held the child tightly to her chest and placed a kiss on the top of her golden head. When at last she looked at Arwen again, her eyes were clear, Arwen would have said even resolute.

"I don't, I can't remember his name. I was never formally introduced to him, you see. He was one of many who arrived to defend the fortress shortly before we were set upon. We had only a few hours together. I did not even know him…"

It made sense, Arwen thought. One brief moment more than two years before with someone she had only just met, why should she remember? But perhaps there might be something else, some other thing that she might recall.

"I see," she said. "What did he look like?"

Éowyn's eyes took on a faraway look. "Blond hair; he was beautiful, with long blond hair." No help there, Arwen thought. Although blond Elves were far from the rule, there still would have been enough at Helms Deep to reduce her to guessing. She needed something unique, something that could at least narrow down the possibilities.

"What did he wear? Surely you can remember that? What colour?"

"I don't know…"

"Green? Red? Gold? Red? You looked up when I said red. Was that it?" Éowyn blinked, once, twice. At last she nodded her head.

"Red cape, is that correct?" Arwen said, excitedly. "Red cape and silver armour? Did he wear a medallion on his cape? A round medallion like this —" She traced a shape on the coverlet between them. Éowyn stared blankly at the spot for a moment but when she looked up, Arwen knew that she had found the one although she had to admit, he would have been absolutely the last name she would have chosen if left to guess.

"I don't want to cause any trouble milady, Please!" Éowyn pleaded. Arwen placed one hand on her arm the other on the child's head.

"There won't be trouble. I won't say anything further about him unless you want me to. But I can tell you things about your child's father, if you would want to know them. You see, I know, knew, the Elf in red very well, we were close friends. He was in the service of my grandmother for many thousands of years. He was strong and valiant yet kind and gentle, one that you would be proud to have as the father of your child, I can tell you. He was a powerful leader…"

"You knew him?" Arwen smiled gently at the pale face hovering over the child's golden head and nodded.

"His name was Haldir. Does that sound familiar?"

Éowyn nodded her head slowly, as if it were gradually coming back to her. "He was killed that night. I remember how upset Aragorn was when they brought his body into the courtyard to prepare for burial. They were close?"

"No. They had only met once before. But Haldir's reputation was well known and he was greatly respected. Aragon certainly knew of him. Unfortunately, he has no family left in Middle Earth. Only Linea…" Éowyn suddenly buried her head in her daughter's soft curls and Arwen heard her sob. "It will be alright my friend, you will see. Faramir should understand. He is a good man. And it happened before you had even met him."

"Maybe." She could hear the muffled reply. "I should have told him the truth from the start and let him decide. I wasn't thinking. I was so happy to have found Faramir, to have peace and the love of a good man." Silence. At last, Éowyn raised her head. Her tears had already dried on her cheeks and her face was an inscrutable mask. Again Arwen was amazed at the strength this woman held, she had fought alongside men, faced the witch-king and been perilously wounded by his blade. Why wouldn't she face this latest crisis with impressive calm and fortitude?

But she would not be facing an enemy this time and the destruction that she might wield did not come at the end of a sword but from words that could cut and maim even more wickedly, the damage they might yield even more horrific. Could it be that Éowyn knew and trusted her husband to understand? In Arwen's experience of Faramir, that trust would be well placed. But the woman's eyes held an unusual brightness, Arwen noticed, even as her face remained placid. Her voice when at last she spoke again though sounded much like her face appeared: calm, measured. You would have thought she was talking of the weather or comparing sewing tips, not begging her friend to keep a deep and dark secret that would change her life forever.

"Please, I beg of you milady, say nothing. I must think how to approach this with my husband." There was no doubt that Arwen would do as she asked. But as she hastened to give her assurances she could not help but wonder at this calm façade. Did Éowyn think that she could get away without telling him? Was that why she seemed so calm? She would have to let her know that those dainty ears that currently could pass as human were very shortly going to scream this child's heritage. It would not be much longer before the secret would be told whether from the lips of this woman, or from the delicate, pointed ears of a baby Elf.