Title: RESTORATION

Number Author: Fianna

Rating: R

Disclaimer: Tolkien owns the elves of Lothlorien and I write only for the pleasure of their company.

Cast: Haldir, Orophin, Rumil and my own characters

Timeline: Several hundred years after the War of the Ring

Chapter 20

The thunder of the horse's hooves reverberated under foot as Haldir turned around. Orophin signaled from his vantage point on the rocks with Tauriel, and then leaped down as he pulled his bow to hand, nocking an arrow as he ran toward them.

Thranduil stiffened, his hand reaching for his sword.

Haldir caught the King's wrist and shook his head. "We can nock arrows and be challenged, but to draw a sword will only make them difficult."

"I have not been to Rohan. They are dangerous?"

Haldir smiled wryly. "As any ally is dangerous, Thanduil if you make them so. But I will not meet them unarmed, it is a show of strength they admire. But trust me, they will do us no harm. Still, they are an annoying lot."

He moved a few steps from Thranduil if only to give distance from the Mirkwood King, protection of a sort. He noted Thranduil did not take his hand from his sword and could only sigh.

The horses appeared from a deep hollow, twenty at a quick count, with men riding armed with spears twice his height. They moved as one, a cohesive and well trained company Haldir could and always had admired. Their horses were clad in leather, long panels to protect their flanks, while the men wore simple tunics of cured leather and steel, helmets that glinted in the sunlight.

It would be hard to say who led them, but Haldir had an uncanny sense that it would be Eodine as it always was when they met like this. How the Rohan King knew Haldir was on his land was a mystery Haldir had yet to unravel.

The men circled them, a tactic they used often, spears held down toward the elves, lances tipped with long silk flags that ruffled in the wind.

Haldir held his ground, stood with bow still strapped to his back, while Orophin, Tauriel and Sweeney were ready with bows nocked but pointed to the ground. Thranduil stepped behind Haldir when the horses stopped their movement, coming to a halt suddenly. One man shifted forward, his eyes a deep blue beneath the eye slits of his helm, a long tail of deep red fluttering over his head.

"Who traverses our plain without leave?"

Haldir bowed his head, held out a hand when Tauriel meant to step forward. "You know very well who I am. And I always have leave to travel your land, Rohirrim."

"Surely you jest? No one has such permission, elf. Long have we held our borders from one and all."

"I never jest," Haldir declared.

The Rohan captain laughed and then slid from his horse. He removed his helmet and long blond hair cascaded down his back, blue eyes crinkled from his laughter. He held out a hand toward Haldir, lips curved in wry amusement. "That is a fact I know well, Haldir. Welcome, friend."

Haldir clasped the man's wrist, rolled his eyes when Eodine pulled him into his arms, pounding his back in greeting. Eodine let Haldir go, but not before gripping Haldir's arms to look at him intently. "By the gods, Haldir, you never age." Eodine shook his head and then turned his gaze on Haldir's companions. "If I miss my guess I'll eat my feathers but you have a King in your midst, March Warden."

Thranduil bowed his head stiffly toward Eodine. The Rohan King touched his brow in return. "I do not know you, but have seen you, Thranduil, King of Mirkwood. I would have thought you long gone to the West."

"I have business here as yet," Thranduil replied.

Eodine smiled. "Not in my realm, I suspect. But odd that the King of the gloomy realm walks my plain. And, in the midst of men as well?" Eodine looked at Haldir curiously. "You travel with an odd lot, elf. What mission are you on that involves women and men, and a King of such renown?"

Haldir grimaced. "Nothing that would concern those of Rohan. I merely travel the edge of your border."

"My border, my land under your feet. You know the rules, March Warden."

Haldir sighed. It was beyond hope that Eodine would let him pass for once. He knew better, for the Rohan liked nothing more than remembering great feats of history, and unfortunately Haldir had been part of that once long ago. The Rohirrim did not forget.

"I have little time to linger," Haldir insisted, turning his head as Eodine walked around him. "For once allow me to pass. I cannot lose time to your feasting."

"Of course you can," Eodine returned with a grin. "Elves have long lives to pass, time is nothing to you as you once snidely reminded me."

Thranduil snorted faintly.

Haldir sighed. "Please, Eodine, I wish only to pass quickly."

Eodine stopped in front of Rowen. She faced him warily, eyes narrowed and fingers resting lightly on a dagger at her belt. "Nay, I am sorry but I cannot allow it. I have rules, elf, as you well know. She is pretty this one. A shield-maiden, clearly, one ready to do battle for you, Haldir. How amusing. I know you have female elven wardens, for here is one now. A beauty, or perhaps, by her gaze that flickers to Thranduil, she is his."

"I bring rangers with me, Eodine. Rowen and her brother Sweeney, Tauriel of the Woodland Realm, and you know my brother Orophin."

Eodine nodded at Rowen, passed an asssessing gaze over Sweeney, moved to Tauriel with a touch to his brow and ended up with a heavy hand to Orophin's shoulder. "Ah, yes, middle brother. You have left the younger at Lorien, I hope. I would feel grief to think him gone."

"Rumil guards our border," Orophin answered, shifting from the Rohan King's grip smoothly. "We left him, but with concern he may soon have to fight orcs intent on harm."

"Orcs are always intent on harm," Eodine agreed with a snarl. He looked at Haldir. "Your mission is truly important then if you left Rumil alone. You know if you have need of aid you have only to ask!" The King crossed to Haldir and gripped his arms again. "We came to Lorien long ago, hearing that a great wind had taken trees larger than life to ground. It was with great sadness that we saw this was so. My grandfather spoke of it, his pain nearly as great as yours."

Haldir clenched his jaw, for a moment could not look at the Rohirrim king. "We appreciated Eomer's arrival, but there was little he could do." Haldir did not say Eomer could never know the depths of the elves despair in those days, Eodine could not know it now.

Eodine released Haldir and stepped back. "At any rate, allow me to offer my hospitality, Haldir. I will not take no for answer. It is rare we see you these days. My people owe you a great debt."

"You owe me nothing," Haldir replied. He knew he had lost any chance for retreat, for speaking of Lorien and the War of the Ring only made the Rohirrim more set on having Haldir stay. "We will stay for a day, Eodine, no more."

"For a day then, elf." Eodine grinned, his gaze sharp and knowing he would be the one to choose how long they would stay. "We give you and Thanduil King horses to ride, my men will double up with their companions. The rest of you as well." He waved a hand and men shifted, dismounting to bring two white horses to Eodine's hand.

Haldir lifted a hand and Tauriel and Orophin relaxed their bows. Sweeney glanced between them and then slowly lowered his arrow. "It seems we get to attend a party, Haldir."

Haldir grimaced. "You have no idea."

0o0

Dorn sat on a log, feet planted on the ground as he ran a stone along the sword blade between his knees, intent on his work, yet his gaze moved often to the trees in front of him. A narrow band, the few dozen separated him from the river, murmured in the brisk breeze that blew off the water.

He might not be an elf, but even he felt a sense of unease in that wind, heard snarls and growls that he was sure was not truly there. A fight was coming. It did not worry him overmuch, he had fought with these elves and could have no better companions. A fine day to die, Dorn thought, glancing up at the deep blue of the sky, cloudless and cheerful as long as one did not look behind him.

But a gaze was somehow drawn to the lack of trees in a forest once so grand and beautiful it could not have been surpassed. Dorn had been to few elven strongholds, had not seen Caras Galadhon at all, but noting the few pieces that had survived: trim, boards used in the newer smaller housing, he knew the city must have been glorious. Elves had long years to perfect their skills.

He was glad to have seen at least a portion of their workmanship. He lifted his blade and looked at it. Ran a thumb along the edge to test it and smiled at the blood welling from his thumb. Good and sharp, it would be necessary to slice through hide as tough as an orcs. They would employ no mercy today. Breaching the borders of Lorien was not to be tolerated, not by elves and certainly, Dorn glowered at the river, not by the two men accepted as allies.

It was an honor he felt keenly. And would fight to prove his worth. Ren felt much the same, if nervous still among the elves, impatient as he stood between a couple of tree staring upriver. The orcs were coming, they all knew this.

How many was worrisome. One orc would not dare venture a fight with elves known for their fierce protectiveness to their wood. The delay in time meant he had gone for help. Dorn knew there were orcs still in the area. Moria, that once grand dwarven stronghold had been breeding grounds for orcs for years. Mordor, although no longer held by the evil wrought from Morgoth, was still home for a multitude of orcs, orgres and gremlins of all ilk.

Just more fun, Dorn decided, standing up to sheath the sword at his hip. "Anything?" he called, shifting to check packs, daggers, the arrows at his knee a gift from Rumil. He lifted the quiver to admire it again.

"Not yet," Ren shouted back. He waved and then lifted a thumb, a positive sign offered to the elf sitting in the tree above him.

The elf shook his head.

0o0

Rumil paced Haldir's kitchen, hands folded behind his back. It would come today, near dusk, a favorite time for the orcs who could see as well as the elves at night, who took strength from the impending darkness. He had prepared as well as he might, elves were placed on watch, wardens well used to such work. The two men had offered to guard as well, and he had agreed, although placing them so near the river was not to his liking, but who was he to argue men their courage? He sighed and glanced at the room, taking comfort in his brother's home, noting things that were clearly Haldir.

An extra quiver, partially done, with tooled leather in a deep red to match the now rare mallorn bow. A few books salvaged from the flet where they had once resided, tumbled and worn, their pages browned from being wet, no longer the pristine volumes they were, but still treasured and kept. A pair of glass wine cups, etched with a faint leaf design that once belonged to their mother. All things that had been saved from destruction, and kept as heirlooms but also reminders of what they had lost.

He pushed that thought aside, touching Haldir's quiver lightly. He would fight as well as he could, and prayed to the Valar that he would hold the wood as Haldir would have done, that the orcs were few and foolish.

It was a vain hope, but all that he had.

0o0

Edoras sat on top the mountain, small by mountain standards, yet still a height that gave it vantage, allowing those within the Rohan city to see far. The rohirrim rode in double file toward the capital of Rohan, a winding trail up the graceful sweep of grassy knoll, past tombs still covered in the tiny white flowers, up to a wooden palisade wall guarded by imposing men of height and stature.

They ducked beneath a door meant to make one do so, up the steeper rocky incline to stop at the steps of Meduseld, the home of the Rohan Kings for many an age. Haldir admired the view, the workmanship of the building that perhaps did not compare to that of the elves, but still had a quality that was purely Rohan. Horses were everywhere, in clothing, wood carving, sculptures. They reigned supreme in the rohirrim culture.

Eodine dismounted, handing off his mount to men who appeared at his elbow, waving Haldir and Thranduil to his side as he climbed the wide bank of steps to his home. "Wind yet again, we gain few days without it." He grinned, pulling strands of hair from his mouth as he turned around at the top of the steps. "My world, King Thranduil," Eodine held out his arms. "Far different from your gloomy wood, eh?"

Thranduil looked around him, moved to stand at the edge of the stone platform. His hair whipped about in the wind, a curtain of pale blond against the dark blue of his tunic, a Lorien cloak clasped at one shoulder. "A wild place, King Eodine," Thranduil agreed. "It fits you."

Eodine nodded. "Or we fit the land perhaps. Come, we shall have wine for the elves and ale for us. We will feast and be merry this day." The guards pulled open the heavy doors and Eodine strode inside.

Thranduil held back, catching Haldir's arm when he reached him. "If he calls my wood gloomy once more, March Warden, he will find those words ill said."

Haldir smiled. "He means no insult, but does mean to get some response, whatever it is. It is his way, Thranduil, to test your mettle and patience. You will need all you have, trust me."

Thranduil grunted sourly and followed Haldir into the dimly lit hall.

0o0

Rowen sat at the long wooden table between Sweeney and Haldir, facing a row of rohirrim men. Eodine had removed to a large chair beside his wife, watching the room with a narrowed gaze and easy smile that hid a deeply buried interest in the elves.

The mood was cheerful, men toasted each other, the elves, their King with every sip, laughter crowded the room with sound, the fire warmed and clouded the air, torches offered a dim light and larger shadows.

Haldir had become quiet, his gaze seeing all, stiff beside her after all the toasting, reminded too well of his past here, of what he had nearly given in return for the safety of all rohirrim present. The Rohan men had not forgotten, hence their toasting, their memories only of victory and success, while for Haldir and even Orophin, it brought a deep sadness of lives lost.

She wished she could pull him from the deep melancholy he hid so well.

Sweeney's glance said as much, his hand briefly touching her as if to say she should let it go.

Enjoy the night, Haldir had said, but his gaze held reservation. Had she known what to expect, she would have urged him to retreat, to find some excuse not to stay. But she had not, and could only offer support as she could.

Orophin sat on Haldir's left, hand on the mug in front of him, one on Haldir's shoulder as he spoke softly for the March Warden's ear only. A moment later he rose and left, followed closely by Tauriel. Thranduil watched them leave with a faint lift of his brow. A glance at Rowen proved he had found a way to close off his feelings, leaving her with little sense of how he felt.

One of the rohirrim, a man named Rolf, leaned forward toward Haldir. "So, March Warden. It seems the last time you were here you lost the last hand at Swords."

Haldir stiffened, if he could not bend at all, his gaze turning slowly to the Rohan soldier. "I lost nothing, but merely ended the game when I chose."

"You left because you knew you would lose."

Rowen felt Haldir's intense irritation, admired how he hid the feeling with a faint smile. "It does not matter."

"Of course it does," Eodine called from his chair. He had not missed the conversation, but lifted his mug of ale as he spoke. "My men feel honor bound to call you to a second match."

"I know this game," Rowen said. "It is fun. Surely you wouldn't mind a game, Haldir."

Thranduil sat sideways on the bench, watching all intently. "What is this game?" he asked curiously.

Haldir frowned with a quick glance at Rowen. "It is a difficult game, Thranduil. I would not suggest you play."

Rolf laughed and slapped the table. "The elf has little liking for it, my Lord. It is a skill he cannot seem to master."

Haldir scowled at the insult. Thranduil's smile added more. "I see little to gain from something so trivial."

The Rohan men laughed again, ignoring any insult. Rowen had played the game, and understood the Rohan's advantage. Swords was a game of gambling. Wooden tiles were played as they were dealt, all left to chance and luck, and more, a bit of courage. Haldir had courage, but as an elf, and more so as an elf always used to control, letting go was not easy. Choosing between always knowing for the most part the outcome of anything he did, playing Swords went against all he knew.

One never knew how the tiles would play out, and betting was always heavy on the outcome.

Rowen grinned and looked at Haldir. "I'm game."

Sweeney chuckled at Haldir's expression of distaste. "Come now, March Warden. Will you allow a few men to best you in a child's game?"

Shouts and jeers made Haldir's choice for him and he bowed his head slightly with a touch to his brow, a gesture of capitulation that made the men cheer. It was obvious the men liked Haldir and there were a few back poundings to prove it as they passed by.

Rowen did not miss the rolled eyes, hidden as much as possible behind a lifted mug of ale the elf hardly sipped. He'd already warned Thranduil on the Rohan's drinking games. Rolf stood up and held out his arms to quiet the men around him. He put his hands on the table and leaned forward to stare hard at Haldir. "So you play then elf, and you, my lord? Shall you try your hand?"

Thranduil shrugged. "Why not."

Rolf grinned and then looked at Rowen. "You say you have played this game. Will you do so again?"

Rowen nodded, "Of course. I know it well. Gambling on the outcome, earning a prize for each win. What would you give?"

Rolf reached into his tunic and brought out a few golden coins. "Coin always works."

She stood up and poked at the coins in Rolf's hand. "Not bad. But there is little to lose, a few coins, bah what is that?"

Rolf arched a curious brow. "Most men have few coins to spare."

"Exactly," Rowen agreed.

Haldir gripped Rowen's arm and pulled her toward him. "What are you doing Rowen?"

She flashed the elf a grin. "Making things interesting."

0o0

Tauriel followed Orophin outside. The wind moaned around the building, ignored by the two guards on either side of the door, their faint nods noting the elves passing. He skipped down the stair and strode purposely down a wide avenue that led toward the Rohan stables.

Tauriel kept pace, admiring the elf's grace as he moved, the quickness of his step, his purpose as he moved into the shadows of the buildings. She did not know what he meant to do, nor did she really care, but took the opportunity offered to admire him and find a few moments alone.

What Orophin might do with those moments was yet to be determined.

He led her behind the stable, between the high palisade wall that circled the town to a small door set in between two large sturdy posts carved with horses. He paused, looked behind him with a grin and then opened the door, ducking out the low opening.

She followed with a similar grin and shut the door behind her.

Orophin waited outside, hardly a gleam in the shadow of the wall, his fingers grasping her waist as she turned to pull her to his chest. "Tauriel, why do you follow?"

"Because you want me to," she said simply.

He laughed, a low sound that made her shiver. "Are you sure it is wise, elleth? Perhaps I have ill intentions."

She moved her hand and he caught his breath. "Perhaps you do by what I feel, elf. Are you prepared to fight back?"

He breathed out and gave a faint laugh. "I do not want to fight, lovely elf, but to do something far more agreeable."

"Fighting is not all bad," Tauriel murmured, moving her hand to his chest. Muscles flexed beneath her fingers, his heart beat a rapid tattoo. "But I agree, there are more interesting things to do."

"It has been a long while," Orophin said. He moved his fingers to her hair, tracing the line of braids to the clasp behind her head. A quick twist loosened the metal and he tucked it into his tunic. "You have thick hair, longer than mine." He drew his hands through it, pulling it from the braids to drape down beside her cheeks. "Lovely." he murmured, drawing her closer with a hand behind her ear.

Tauriel shivered at the touch of his hands. It had been a long while, too long shielding her heart from any one who seemed interested. She closed her eyes and pressed her fingers into his tunic. "I do not know what will happen..." His fingers made her pause, the light touch on her lips made her open her eyes.

"Do not speak of what must come, Tauriel."

She kissed his fingers, reaching up to hold them to her lips. "I do not, but only say I have wanted this for... well, since I first saw you." She laughed, giddy suddenly at the admission. "It has been very long since an elf drew me so."

Orophin had caught his breath, eyes wide. "I am lucky then, for I would have thought your eyes drawn to Haldir first," he grinned and added. "Or Rumil who seems to draw females like flies."

She laughed. "Nay, another has her eyes set to Haldir. Rumil will have to fend off those others. I am interested in you, Orophin. What shall we make of that?"

He pulled her against him, lowered his mouth to hers with a whispered "This..."

0o0