16: Helm's Deep
(Exams all this week, and I needed to sort out my priorities, so updates may be few, but the story has not yet finished!! In answer to a few of you, I have no grudge against Legolas whatsoever. I enjoy (well written) Legolas romances, especially The Easterling, by Scribe. I adore Orlando Bloom. My cruel treatment to him is merely an OOC piece of the overall plot. Truly, no offence meant.)
[I really, really ought to finish this soon. Lets say . . . 20 chapters. I think I can do that.]
NARIEL [yes, Nariel again. I just thought her POV would be nice, ok?]:
He was troubled.
I could tell. His eyes avoided everyone else's, and he stopped talking as we rode nearer and nearer to Helm's Deep. It must have been impossible for him to speak when here was the place where he'd lost both of his brothers in battle, where he helplessly watched them die.
I couldn't imagine this place to be the scene of bloodthirsty warfare. Those towers, that gate, those battlements, to think that men and elves died here was hard. The sun was shining, and there were no corpses, for one thing. It was difficult to imagine that uruk-hai had ever been here, except perhaps the massive hole in the Deeping wall, which was filled with construction poles; the mending had already begun.
Glindir had told me how the fight went. How the orcs had used Saruman's dynamite. How so many had been wounded and some had died. And then he went silent as well.
The convoy still continued in a cheery way, but I noticed even those of the Fellowship were a little distant, Aragorn the Elfstone, Legolas, Gimli (or is it Grimli?). They had fought here. The stone had been scrubbed to a gleam, and though hard I tried, I could see no blood marks or stains, or any sign that here was a place of bloodshed. The men of Westfold blew trumpets to greet us and the gates opened into a plain but pleasant courtyard. We got rid of our horses and entered the great hall. I didn't even know they had a great hall. I reminded myself that this wasn't just a fortress for enemies.
Everyone cheered considerably after the evening meal in the hall; it was plain, like all Edain food, yet satisfying to the stomach. Then Elrond stood up and said we would be staying here for a week, maybe more, and Haldir's face became shadowed. He hardly ate anything and he didn't converse at all during the meal, only occasionally glaring in Legolas' direction.
Ah.
He blames him.
Its not Legolas' fault we're here. He had no say in the matter. Father said to me that Elrond was delaying our return home because he doesn't want for everyone to say so many farewells so soon. I can see his reason, and it is good reason, but can't he see what he's doing to my Haldir?
MY Haldir?
Did I just say that? No. I didn't mean it.
Anyway, I called up on Lamalas. He seems a nice guy, if a little absent in the head, and Haldir trusts him (I think), and I asked if he could help my little hunnybuns.
Hunnybuns?
I'm sure I didn't mean to write that. I swear I never said that.
ANYWAY, he said that he would. So the two of us go to find Haldir, on the way, passing a Glindir who was currently seducing some random attractive girls, talking like his mouth was full of pastry. Very disgusting; he was obviously drunk. I wanted to stop and give him a piece of my mind (and possibly fist) but I was more concerned for my sweetie pie.
Sweetie Pie?!
I am seriously losing myself.
Besides, he never said he DIDN'T like me. He just . . . postponed the moment of truth. I am not going to bring it up again anyway. After all, Elladan's not so bad. He's positively sweet. But it's not the same. I can't feel relaxed around him. He's too formal. Elladan's. . . well . . . like royalty. He has the blood of Luthien, but I'd be happy with just a nice, down-to-earth elf that can be a lover and a friend.
I found Haldir in the evening moonlight, staring out from the top of the battlement wall. He sensed me and turned around, avoiding my glance.
"This was where Rumil died." He said awkwardly, "I don't know where they found Orophin's body."
I felt like walking over to him and just cradle and hold him in my arms.
"I-I can help you." Said Lamalas from behind me. He got only a nod in reply.
Then, Haldir pointed to the spot where I was standing; he said.
"I died there."
*
2 hours later we tied him to a chair. We decided we weren't taking any chances. He seemed to be getting worse, if he was sick at all. Lamalas said he was sinking into depression. He'd read about it, usually it affected Men, but when an Elf had it, that could lead to Bad, or even Big Bad.
"What are you doing?" asked Haldir. He'd hardly said anything, not even objecting when we tied him down.
"A little exercise called: 'hipnote-ism'." I said, then thinking, added: "We're trying to help you."
Then I wondered to myself if helping really involved tying your friend to a chair and subjecting him to 'mental treatment'.
Did I just say 'friend'?
Yes.
That's fine. Anyway:
"Something like that, yes." Said Lamalas. He took out of the folds of his robes a brassy watch on a chain. He held it by the tip of the chain and swung it in a pendulum movement before Haldir's eyes.
"Listen to my voice."
I nearly burst out laughing, but I saw Haldir's eyes follow the movement of the watch. The way the brass swung in an arc, yet the hands continued moving on their own. Soon, he was transfixed. His eyes drooped as he fell into a sleep-trance state.
"You will LIVE." Said Lamalas. I was about to ask him what this had to do with anything, but refrained. He knew what he was doing. He was a professional. I hope.
"How are you feeling?" he said to Haldir, whose eyes had drifted shut. His head leaned back onto the back of the chair.
He blinked vigorously, eyes still closed, as if in a conscious sleep.
"I feel deceased." Was the flat reply, "I feel guilty for my brother's deaths here, a month ago. I could have prevented them. At least I could have mourned them for a period of time. Instead I moved on. I moved on without looking back. I feel awful. Instead of mourning their deaths, I gave only thought to my own injuries. I only thought of Rivendell. I don't even know where their ashes lie. I was lucky to be alive. But I don't know if I deserve it."
He drew a rattled breath, his head falling onto his chest.
"Yet you live." said Lamalas, "you should make the best of it. Do you understand?"
"I live. For you." He stared at me pointedly, though his eyes were closed. I was unnerved.
"I think he really is sick." I said to Lamalas, "maybe we should get Elrond to help."
"No. He is all better now." he said, putting his watch back into his pocket.
"Really? Just like that?"
"The therapy works on the basis that the patient lets out their true troubles and emotions in the form of words, but without knowing it, because of the hypnotism, they cannot say a lie in this stasis. They'll just think they're sleeping, but wake up feeling better than they ever have, and the dark thoughts shall disturb them no longer."
"Amazing. So he is currently sleeping?"
"Not quite. He is still in the trance I put him in. he has to answer truthfully to anything I say." He said. I could see where that was going.
He bent down to Haldir's peaceful face.
"Tell me your darkest secret." Said Lamalas, then seeing my shocked face, "This is a great opportunity!"
Haldir was powerless. His eyelids fluttered.
"I had a childhood toy called Mr. Hunnybunny." He said before I could stop him, "I like to hold him at night. He is very furry."
Hunnybunny. Now where have I heard that before?
"What do you think of Arwen?" he asked again.
"She's all right. Nice butt."
I felt a strange desire to strangle something.
"Do you . . . love . . . her?" he said.
"No, Lamalas. We shouldn't be doing this. This is wrong." I interupted, not liking where this was going. This was wrong of him. No one could resist Arwen. The condescending bitch.
Haldir's drone came up.
"No. I far prefer Nariel." He said, blinking vigorously.
I felt myself blushing to my toes. But Lamalas wasn't finished.
"Why?"
I wanted to hit him for asking that, but I couldn't because Haldir started talking again, and half of me wanted to hear what he was saying.
"She's like the Dawn, A reason for living. Like when I died, and then I saw the Dawn. It was so beautiful . . . just like her. I have a ring for her, a beautiful ring, but I don't know when to give her it."
There was a complete silence. Lamalas was lost for words.
"Oh, so you like me for my beauty?!" I heard myself shouting, and before I could fully react to what I was doing myself, I stormed over to the prostrate figure and slapped him, hard.
What made me do it? Anger? Embarrassment?
Joy?!
He snorted, his head tipped back, still in a trance.
He hadn't even felt it.
*
Next thing I was running back to the guest chambers. Marien walked out of one of the rooms.
"Where have you been? I've had to set out your stuff for you! Have you seen my Legolas anywhere? Its like he's avoiding me."
I ignored her completely and just flopped back onto my bed. I didn't know if I was happy or sad.
I tried to be happy, laughing until tears came and Marien gave up entirely and let me be alone; and even when I was asleep, there would occasionally be a fit of giggles.
Love can make you do strange things.
(Exams all this week, and I needed to sort out my priorities, so updates may be few, but the story has not yet finished!! In answer to a few of you, I have no grudge against Legolas whatsoever. I enjoy (well written) Legolas romances, especially The Easterling, by Scribe. I adore Orlando Bloom. My cruel treatment to him is merely an OOC piece of the overall plot. Truly, no offence meant.)
[I really, really ought to finish this soon. Lets say . . . 20 chapters. I think I can do that.]
NARIEL [yes, Nariel again. I just thought her POV would be nice, ok?]:
He was troubled.
I could tell. His eyes avoided everyone else's, and he stopped talking as we rode nearer and nearer to Helm's Deep. It must have been impossible for him to speak when here was the place where he'd lost both of his brothers in battle, where he helplessly watched them die.
I couldn't imagine this place to be the scene of bloodthirsty warfare. Those towers, that gate, those battlements, to think that men and elves died here was hard. The sun was shining, and there were no corpses, for one thing. It was difficult to imagine that uruk-hai had ever been here, except perhaps the massive hole in the Deeping wall, which was filled with construction poles; the mending had already begun.
Glindir had told me how the fight went. How the orcs had used Saruman's dynamite. How so many had been wounded and some had died. And then he went silent as well.
The convoy still continued in a cheery way, but I noticed even those of the Fellowship were a little distant, Aragorn the Elfstone, Legolas, Gimli (or is it Grimli?). They had fought here. The stone had been scrubbed to a gleam, and though hard I tried, I could see no blood marks or stains, or any sign that here was a place of bloodshed. The men of Westfold blew trumpets to greet us and the gates opened into a plain but pleasant courtyard. We got rid of our horses and entered the great hall. I didn't even know they had a great hall. I reminded myself that this wasn't just a fortress for enemies.
Everyone cheered considerably after the evening meal in the hall; it was plain, like all Edain food, yet satisfying to the stomach. Then Elrond stood up and said we would be staying here for a week, maybe more, and Haldir's face became shadowed. He hardly ate anything and he didn't converse at all during the meal, only occasionally glaring in Legolas' direction.
Ah.
He blames him.
Its not Legolas' fault we're here. He had no say in the matter. Father said to me that Elrond was delaying our return home because he doesn't want for everyone to say so many farewells so soon. I can see his reason, and it is good reason, but can't he see what he's doing to my Haldir?
MY Haldir?
Did I just say that? No. I didn't mean it.
Anyway, I called up on Lamalas. He seems a nice guy, if a little absent in the head, and Haldir trusts him (I think), and I asked if he could help my little hunnybuns.
Hunnybuns?
I'm sure I didn't mean to write that. I swear I never said that.
ANYWAY, he said that he would. So the two of us go to find Haldir, on the way, passing a Glindir who was currently seducing some random attractive girls, talking like his mouth was full of pastry. Very disgusting; he was obviously drunk. I wanted to stop and give him a piece of my mind (and possibly fist) but I was more concerned for my sweetie pie.
Sweetie Pie?!
I am seriously losing myself.
Besides, he never said he DIDN'T like me. He just . . . postponed the moment of truth. I am not going to bring it up again anyway. After all, Elladan's not so bad. He's positively sweet. But it's not the same. I can't feel relaxed around him. He's too formal. Elladan's. . . well . . . like royalty. He has the blood of Luthien, but I'd be happy with just a nice, down-to-earth elf that can be a lover and a friend.
I found Haldir in the evening moonlight, staring out from the top of the battlement wall. He sensed me and turned around, avoiding my glance.
"This was where Rumil died." He said awkwardly, "I don't know where they found Orophin's body."
I felt like walking over to him and just cradle and hold him in my arms.
"I-I can help you." Said Lamalas from behind me. He got only a nod in reply.
Then, Haldir pointed to the spot where I was standing; he said.
"I died there."
*
2 hours later we tied him to a chair. We decided we weren't taking any chances. He seemed to be getting worse, if he was sick at all. Lamalas said he was sinking into depression. He'd read about it, usually it affected Men, but when an Elf had it, that could lead to Bad, or even Big Bad.
"What are you doing?" asked Haldir. He'd hardly said anything, not even objecting when we tied him down.
"A little exercise called: 'hipnote-ism'." I said, then thinking, added: "We're trying to help you."
Then I wondered to myself if helping really involved tying your friend to a chair and subjecting him to 'mental treatment'.
Did I just say 'friend'?
Yes.
That's fine. Anyway:
"Something like that, yes." Said Lamalas. He took out of the folds of his robes a brassy watch on a chain. He held it by the tip of the chain and swung it in a pendulum movement before Haldir's eyes.
"Listen to my voice."
I nearly burst out laughing, but I saw Haldir's eyes follow the movement of the watch. The way the brass swung in an arc, yet the hands continued moving on their own. Soon, he was transfixed. His eyes drooped as he fell into a sleep-trance state.
"You will LIVE." Said Lamalas. I was about to ask him what this had to do with anything, but refrained. He knew what he was doing. He was a professional. I hope.
"How are you feeling?" he said to Haldir, whose eyes had drifted shut. His head leaned back onto the back of the chair.
He blinked vigorously, eyes still closed, as if in a conscious sleep.
"I feel deceased." Was the flat reply, "I feel guilty for my brother's deaths here, a month ago. I could have prevented them. At least I could have mourned them for a period of time. Instead I moved on. I moved on without looking back. I feel awful. Instead of mourning their deaths, I gave only thought to my own injuries. I only thought of Rivendell. I don't even know where their ashes lie. I was lucky to be alive. But I don't know if I deserve it."
He drew a rattled breath, his head falling onto his chest.
"Yet you live." said Lamalas, "you should make the best of it. Do you understand?"
"I live. For you." He stared at me pointedly, though his eyes were closed. I was unnerved.
"I think he really is sick." I said to Lamalas, "maybe we should get Elrond to help."
"No. He is all better now." he said, putting his watch back into his pocket.
"Really? Just like that?"
"The therapy works on the basis that the patient lets out their true troubles and emotions in the form of words, but without knowing it, because of the hypnotism, they cannot say a lie in this stasis. They'll just think they're sleeping, but wake up feeling better than they ever have, and the dark thoughts shall disturb them no longer."
"Amazing. So he is currently sleeping?"
"Not quite. He is still in the trance I put him in. he has to answer truthfully to anything I say." He said. I could see where that was going.
He bent down to Haldir's peaceful face.
"Tell me your darkest secret." Said Lamalas, then seeing my shocked face, "This is a great opportunity!"
Haldir was powerless. His eyelids fluttered.
"I had a childhood toy called Mr. Hunnybunny." He said before I could stop him, "I like to hold him at night. He is very furry."
Hunnybunny. Now where have I heard that before?
"What do you think of Arwen?" he asked again.
"She's all right. Nice butt."
I felt a strange desire to strangle something.
"Do you . . . love . . . her?" he said.
"No, Lamalas. We shouldn't be doing this. This is wrong." I interupted, not liking where this was going. This was wrong of him. No one could resist Arwen. The condescending bitch.
Haldir's drone came up.
"No. I far prefer Nariel." He said, blinking vigorously.
I felt myself blushing to my toes. But Lamalas wasn't finished.
"Why?"
I wanted to hit him for asking that, but I couldn't because Haldir started talking again, and half of me wanted to hear what he was saying.
"She's like the Dawn, A reason for living. Like when I died, and then I saw the Dawn. It was so beautiful . . . just like her. I have a ring for her, a beautiful ring, but I don't know when to give her it."
There was a complete silence. Lamalas was lost for words.
"Oh, so you like me for my beauty?!" I heard myself shouting, and before I could fully react to what I was doing myself, I stormed over to the prostrate figure and slapped him, hard.
What made me do it? Anger? Embarrassment?
Joy?!
He snorted, his head tipped back, still in a trance.
He hadn't even felt it.
*
Next thing I was running back to the guest chambers. Marien walked out of one of the rooms.
"Where have you been? I've had to set out your stuff for you! Have you seen my Legolas anywhere? Its like he's avoiding me."
I ignored her completely and just flopped back onto my bed. I didn't know if I was happy or sad.
I tried to be happy, laughing until tears came and Marien gave up entirely and let me be alone; and even when I was asleep, there would occasionally be a fit of giggles.
Love can make you do strange things.
