Disclaimer: This story is based on the work of Tolkien. The setting and most of the characters are his. Valarie, Maranwe, and Runevalas are my own creations. In this section a portion of dialogue is quoted from the movie for purposes of plot continuity in this fanfiction and was not originally written by me. The Elvish language here is from the Tel'Mithrim and is used with permission. The word "feahoon" is used PENDING approval from the Grey Company. For more information please see their web site: www.grey-company .org.
Please note, as this is a work of fiction, it is BASED on Tolkien's work. Those of you who are purists will have noticed I've taken some creative liberties with my Elves. Just want you to be aware as you read. Hope you enjoy the story regardless.
Rating: PG
** ** ** ** ** **
As the Elven host marched through the gates of Helm's Deep, one Man caught Valariel's attention. A smile radiated out from behind his dark beard that spoke of wonder and of relief. Against a host as large as the Uruk-hai's, Valariel wondered if even the addition of the Elves could save the people of Rohan, but at least their presence had brought hope back to these Men.
She was several rows back but she could hear her father clearly as the Marchwarden spoke to an obviously astonished Theoden.
"I bring a message from Elrond of Rivendell. Once an alliance existed between Men and Elves. Long ago we fought – and died – together." Haldir paused as Aragorn and Legolas appeared on the steps. "We come to honor that allegiance."
"Mae govannen, Haldir," Well met, Haldir. said Aragorn. He gripped the Marchwarden's shoulder in the traditional Elvish greeting and then Aragorn hugged him, as Men did from time to time. Haldir hesitated for a moment, arms outstretched, until he slowly, awkwardly brought his arms in and clapped Aragorn on the back.
"You are most welcome," said Aragorn as he stepped back. Then Legolas greeted the Marchwarden and moved to a step behind him as Haldir drew himself up to his true height. His polished armor flashed in the torch light and his cape, lined with red, spilled from his shoulders.
"We are honored," he said looking at Theoden, "to fight alongside Men once more."
Valariel felt that same tingle run through her when she saw Legolas on the steps but she dropped her eyes, lest he see her in the crowd. As a child, she thought, the feeling near overwhelmed me. Even now, from a distance, I can feel the pull. It will be hard enough to fight knowing he's here, but I will not take his attention from his duty to Aragorn. If we survive the night, we will see what the dawn brings.
The Men of Rohan stared down into the dark. Haldir had placed Valariel's company adjacent to where Theoden would view the battle. She removed her helmet and placed it on the wall. Thunder rumbled. She took a deep breath and could taste the rain on the wind even before the first drops splashed against her cheeks.
On a wall, far across the Keep, Legolas stood in the rain, his blond hair plastered to his head. He had been so proud as the 'Lorien Archers came through the gates of Helm's Deep. His pride had been deeply offended when Theoden had remarked that the Elves wouldn't help, but for respect for Aragorn, he hadn't pressed the fight. And after he had wondered. His people were leaving for the shores of Valinor – there was no guarantee of help. He wondered if he would fight alone.
Unbidden, a memory came back to him of a day long since passed when he ventured to Lothlorien at the behest of his father. It had been only the second time he'd met Haldir and at the meeting a young she-Elf, just a child, had interrupted. She stared at me as if she'd seen a ghost, thought Legolas with a smile. Someone told me she was Haldir's daughter, and he was most upset with her unabashed stare. His smile deepened. I have thought of her often over the years. I wonder what has become of the Marchwarden's daughter, and I wonder what has brought her back to my memory on such a day as this?
Near Theoden, a few murmurs ran through the Men as they realized the Elf upon the wall was female.
"A she-Elf commands the archers?" they whispered.
Valariel heard them and ignored them, only the slight slide of her eyes to the faces of those who'd spoken betrayed she'd heard them at all.
But Theoden heard them and he frowned as he thought of Eowyn. His proud, angry niece – a Shieldmaiden – was shut away in the caves with the women and children. He'd seen her practice with a sword, and Eowyn was the equal of many of the Men under his command. She would be furious beyond measure if she knew this she-Elf stood upon the walls of the Hornburg, sword at her side, bow in hand. Had he erred by denying Eowyn her request to fight?
No, he thought. With Theodred dead and Eomer leagues away from here she must stay safe. If I fall… If Eomer is dead by some treachery from Grima… Then Eowyn will be Queen. I cannot afford to lose her on the field. But if I survive this war, I will not lock Eowyn away forever. She will truly take her place as a Sheildmaiden of Rohan. That much I vow.
He turned his gaze to Valariel and feeling its weight, she turned to him. She offered Theoden a respectful, if short, bow. He returned it.
Valariel had long since lost track of how many had died on her sword or by her bow. The rolling growl of thunder washed across the field and the Keep momentarily overpowering the clashing swords and the screams of the dying. Then, over the din, Valariel heard Aragorn's voice pulling everyone back into the Keep. From her spot on an upper wall, she brought her bow to bear, covering the stairs as Men and Elves hurried back to what was left of the fortress.
"Haldir!" It was Aragorn who shouted her father's name, and the tenor of his voice chilled her. Her sharp Elven eyes picked out her father's figure as he swayed on his feet. She could tell he was badly injured. And that moment's distraction nearly ended her life as an Uruk-hai charged from her blind side. At the last moment she spun away, sliding one of her knives from its sheath and burying it in the Uruk's gut. The wave of Men retreating to the Keep was too great for her to see anything else. She retreated inside as well, hoping against hope that Aragorn had reached Haldir in time.
"Your name?" Theoden demanded as she turned, coming to stand next to him.
"Valariel of Lorien," she answered.
"Valariel of Lorien, I charge you to go with theses men and guard the doors that lead to the caves. It is where the women and children of Rohan are hidden. Do not let the Uruk-hai reach them."
"Your will be done, Theoden-King," she said. A few words in Elvish came from her mouth and several Elves accompanied her into the fortress.
Some time later, the King's aide, Gamling appeared. "The Uruks are breaking through the door. Theoden King rides out to meet them in one last charge. He has sent word for the women and children to make for the mountains. We cannot hold the enemy back any longer."
"They will be slaughtered in the hills," cried one man.
"And they will not be here?" said Valariel. "At least in the mountains they have a chance. Here they will find only death."
The deep rumbling notes of a bass horn shook the Keep.
"The horn of Helm Hammerhand," said Gamling. "The last ride of Theoden-King has begun."
And so Valariel and the others waited, staring at the door. Waiting for death to come for them. As she drew out her sword, Valariel squared her shoulders.
"Let the Uruk-hai savages come," she said fiercely. "I am ready."
What came instead was a youth, a Rohan lad no more than 12 years old. "Lord Eomer is here! The Rohirrim have come with the wizard, Gandalf, and the Uruk's have fled! We are saved!"
Of the entire host that departed 'Lorien, a full three-quarters died on the walls of Helm's Deep. Valariel looked at the few who remained. Many of them were wounded. She did not see her father – or Legolas – among them, and did not know if she should rejoice or weep.
"Search the field," she said. "If there are any still alive, Elf or Man, bring them to the Keep. Perhaps we can save a few." She turned and headed towards the gaping breach in the outer wall, the last place she'd seen Haldir. As she walked, Valariel heard the gruff voice of the Dwarf who was companion to Aragorn and Legolas. Near him, tall and whole, was the Prince of Mirkwood. Legolas had come through the battle and when she saw him, a small part of her sorrow lifted.
But the joy was short-lived. Moments later, drawn by the shouts of one of the Archers, she found her father. Haldir lay on the ground, the wounds and cuts on his arm dwarfed by the massive gash in his back. There was a small flicker in his eyes as she touched his throat, seeking a pulse.
"He's barely alive. Bring him to the Keep immediately and see to it there is a bed ready."
"He is so far gone." The sorrow in the Archer's voice was deep. "He belongs to Mandos."
"Not yet," she growled. "Not yet. Now bring him to the Keep!"
** ** ** ** ** ** **
Thanks as always to everyone who has reviewed my work. Haldir's Heart & Soul, don't despair. Trust me. Another chapter will be up soon.
Please note, as this is a work of fiction, it is BASED on Tolkien's work. Those of you who are purists will have noticed I've taken some creative liberties with my Elves. Just want you to be aware as you read. Hope you enjoy the story regardless.
Rating: PG
** ** ** ** ** **
As the Elven host marched through the gates of Helm's Deep, one Man caught Valariel's attention. A smile radiated out from behind his dark beard that spoke of wonder and of relief. Against a host as large as the Uruk-hai's, Valariel wondered if even the addition of the Elves could save the people of Rohan, but at least their presence had brought hope back to these Men.
She was several rows back but she could hear her father clearly as the Marchwarden spoke to an obviously astonished Theoden.
"I bring a message from Elrond of Rivendell. Once an alliance existed between Men and Elves. Long ago we fought – and died – together." Haldir paused as Aragorn and Legolas appeared on the steps. "We come to honor that allegiance."
"Mae govannen, Haldir," Well met, Haldir. said Aragorn. He gripped the Marchwarden's shoulder in the traditional Elvish greeting and then Aragorn hugged him, as Men did from time to time. Haldir hesitated for a moment, arms outstretched, until he slowly, awkwardly brought his arms in and clapped Aragorn on the back.
"You are most welcome," said Aragorn as he stepped back. Then Legolas greeted the Marchwarden and moved to a step behind him as Haldir drew himself up to his true height. His polished armor flashed in the torch light and his cape, lined with red, spilled from his shoulders.
"We are honored," he said looking at Theoden, "to fight alongside Men once more."
Valariel felt that same tingle run through her when she saw Legolas on the steps but she dropped her eyes, lest he see her in the crowd. As a child, she thought, the feeling near overwhelmed me. Even now, from a distance, I can feel the pull. It will be hard enough to fight knowing he's here, but I will not take his attention from his duty to Aragorn. If we survive the night, we will see what the dawn brings.
The Men of Rohan stared down into the dark. Haldir had placed Valariel's company adjacent to where Theoden would view the battle. She removed her helmet and placed it on the wall. Thunder rumbled. She took a deep breath and could taste the rain on the wind even before the first drops splashed against her cheeks.
On a wall, far across the Keep, Legolas stood in the rain, his blond hair plastered to his head. He had been so proud as the 'Lorien Archers came through the gates of Helm's Deep. His pride had been deeply offended when Theoden had remarked that the Elves wouldn't help, but for respect for Aragorn, he hadn't pressed the fight. And after he had wondered. His people were leaving for the shores of Valinor – there was no guarantee of help. He wondered if he would fight alone.
Unbidden, a memory came back to him of a day long since passed when he ventured to Lothlorien at the behest of his father. It had been only the second time he'd met Haldir and at the meeting a young she-Elf, just a child, had interrupted. She stared at me as if she'd seen a ghost, thought Legolas with a smile. Someone told me she was Haldir's daughter, and he was most upset with her unabashed stare. His smile deepened. I have thought of her often over the years. I wonder what has become of the Marchwarden's daughter, and I wonder what has brought her back to my memory on such a day as this?
Near Theoden, a few murmurs ran through the Men as they realized the Elf upon the wall was female.
"A she-Elf commands the archers?" they whispered.
Valariel heard them and ignored them, only the slight slide of her eyes to the faces of those who'd spoken betrayed she'd heard them at all.
But Theoden heard them and he frowned as he thought of Eowyn. His proud, angry niece – a Shieldmaiden – was shut away in the caves with the women and children. He'd seen her practice with a sword, and Eowyn was the equal of many of the Men under his command. She would be furious beyond measure if she knew this she-Elf stood upon the walls of the Hornburg, sword at her side, bow in hand. Had he erred by denying Eowyn her request to fight?
No, he thought. With Theodred dead and Eomer leagues away from here she must stay safe. If I fall… If Eomer is dead by some treachery from Grima… Then Eowyn will be Queen. I cannot afford to lose her on the field. But if I survive this war, I will not lock Eowyn away forever. She will truly take her place as a Sheildmaiden of Rohan. That much I vow.
He turned his gaze to Valariel and feeling its weight, she turned to him. She offered Theoden a respectful, if short, bow. He returned it.
Valariel had long since lost track of how many had died on her sword or by her bow. The rolling growl of thunder washed across the field and the Keep momentarily overpowering the clashing swords and the screams of the dying. Then, over the din, Valariel heard Aragorn's voice pulling everyone back into the Keep. From her spot on an upper wall, she brought her bow to bear, covering the stairs as Men and Elves hurried back to what was left of the fortress.
"Haldir!" It was Aragorn who shouted her father's name, and the tenor of his voice chilled her. Her sharp Elven eyes picked out her father's figure as he swayed on his feet. She could tell he was badly injured. And that moment's distraction nearly ended her life as an Uruk-hai charged from her blind side. At the last moment she spun away, sliding one of her knives from its sheath and burying it in the Uruk's gut. The wave of Men retreating to the Keep was too great for her to see anything else. She retreated inside as well, hoping against hope that Aragorn had reached Haldir in time.
"Your name?" Theoden demanded as she turned, coming to stand next to him.
"Valariel of Lorien," she answered.
"Valariel of Lorien, I charge you to go with theses men and guard the doors that lead to the caves. It is where the women and children of Rohan are hidden. Do not let the Uruk-hai reach them."
"Your will be done, Theoden-King," she said. A few words in Elvish came from her mouth and several Elves accompanied her into the fortress.
Some time later, the King's aide, Gamling appeared. "The Uruks are breaking through the door. Theoden King rides out to meet them in one last charge. He has sent word for the women and children to make for the mountains. We cannot hold the enemy back any longer."
"They will be slaughtered in the hills," cried one man.
"And they will not be here?" said Valariel. "At least in the mountains they have a chance. Here they will find only death."
The deep rumbling notes of a bass horn shook the Keep.
"The horn of Helm Hammerhand," said Gamling. "The last ride of Theoden-King has begun."
And so Valariel and the others waited, staring at the door. Waiting for death to come for them. As she drew out her sword, Valariel squared her shoulders.
"Let the Uruk-hai savages come," she said fiercely. "I am ready."
What came instead was a youth, a Rohan lad no more than 12 years old. "Lord Eomer is here! The Rohirrim have come with the wizard, Gandalf, and the Uruk's have fled! We are saved!"
Of the entire host that departed 'Lorien, a full three-quarters died on the walls of Helm's Deep. Valariel looked at the few who remained. Many of them were wounded. She did not see her father – or Legolas – among them, and did not know if she should rejoice or weep.
"Search the field," she said. "If there are any still alive, Elf or Man, bring them to the Keep. Perhaps we can save a few." She turned and headed towards the gaping breach in the outer wall, the last place she'd seen Haldir. As she walked, Valariel heard the gruff voice of the Dwarf who was companion to Aragorn and Legolas. Near him, tall and whole, was the Prince of Mirkwood. Legolas had come through the battle and when she saw him, a small part of her sorrow lifted.
But the joy was short-lived. Moments later, drawn by the shouts of one of the Archers, she found her father. Haldir lay on the ground, the wounds and cuts on his arm dwarfed by the massive gash in his back. There was a small flicker in his eyes as she touched his throat, seeking a pulse.
"He's barely alive. Bring him to the Keep immediately and see to it there is a bed ready."
"He is so far gone." The sorrow in the Archer's voice was deep. "He belongs to Mandos."
"Not yet," she growled. "Not yet. Now bring him to the Keep!"
** ** ** ** ** ** **
Thanks as always to everyone who has reviewed my work. Haldir's Heart & Soul, don't despair. Trust me. Another chapter will be up soon.