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. 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
Rating: PG
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Haldir was placed on a bed in the Keep. One of the healer-women stanched the wound in his back but it would need more attention if he lived. Aragorn, accompanied by Gandalf, Theoden, Eomer and Eowyn came in. Gandalf raised a hand for silence and they all complied. The Marchwarden looked eerily pale with his eyes staring up. Eomer was convinced he was dead as they all drew closer.
Her hands on his chest, Valariel closed her eyes, allowing her spirit to reach out. She followed the tenuous thread that held Haldir's soul to his body still. She could see her father, but everything in this world was fuzzy, grey. He was a bright beacon in the twilight and beyond him she could see a rosey light, like the very first touch of the sun on clouds the moment before sunrise. The doors to Mandos' Hall.
"You cannot go yet," she said. Everyone in the room looked at her.
"Can the dying Elf truly hear her?" whispered Eowyn.
"I don't know," answered her brother, Eomer.
"He can," said Aragorn. "It is hard to call one of their kin back when the journey to death has begun, but it can be done. It depends on how strong the bond is between those who call. Valariel is Haldir's daughter. If anyone can call him back, she can."
:Father.: Valariel spoke to his mind, his heart. :Do not depart for Mandos' great hall just yet. Please stay here.: It was a daughter's request.
:I am tired, daughter, hinder me no longer.:
:Hinder you?: There was a first note of anger in her voice. "Hinder you? You do not truly wish to go, Haldir of 'Lorien," she said out loud, knowing he could hear her physical voice. "Were you so eager to join Mandos in His Hall, you would have not lingered on as you have. We are not ready to be without you, Father, and you are not ready to go."
:You will not tell me what I do and do not want, Valariel! What is there to come back to? The Archers are devastated. I led them to their deaths; it is only fitting I should join them.:
Valariel changed her approach. Pleading with Haldir had not worked when she was a child and she knew it wouldn't work now. Her voice, instead of growing sad, grew cold, distant… insolent.
"Never, in all my long life," she growled, "did I ever believe I would live to see the Marchwarden of 'Lorien abandon his post willingly. Never did I foresee he would discount his own daughter's love with such expedience. Never, in my wildest dreams, did I ever imagine he would forsake the safety of the Lady Galadriel to whom he swore an oath to protect."
In an instant, her hands tingled and the twilight faded before a flaring light. She had hit her father in his most sensitive spot – his pride. His spirit rushed back to his body from the in-between world where he had hovered. Abruptly, and much to the shock of those who watched, he grabbed his daughter's wrist with some anger.
"You overstep yourself, Valariel," he snapped. The voice was soft, but there was still some bite in it. "You were ever a cheeky and difficult child."
:Forgive my hard words, Father. I would have said much worse, and dared your most terrifying temper, to keep you here. The Lady still needs you; I still need you.:
Haldir looked up at her and a small smile softened his stern face. "Amin mela lle, a'veryientinu…" I love you, my daring daughter.
"Amin mela lle," she whispered back.
"My Lady," said one of the healer women from the castle. "Please?" She held out her hands, filled with herbs and salves, and Valariel knew she was in the old woman's way.
"You are in the healers' hands now, Marchwarden," she said loudly enough for the room to hear. "Do not make me fetch you back a second time."
"Stay," said Haldir. He did not release her wrist. "Let the healer-woman work if she must, but then I would speak to you. Alone."
"Of course." Valariel looked up at the small group near her. "My Lord Eomer, would you bring word to your King that the Marchwarden has returned and will recover, although it will take much time?"
The small room cleared and Valariel waited for the healer to treat her father. The cut on his arm was salved and bound in clean linen strips. The wound on his back was far more severe. A mere inch to the side and it would have severed his spine. Any deeper and it would have rent his lung.
"You are very lucky," said the old woman. Haldir's expression didn't change as she salved the wound, but Valariel saw the edges of his eyes tighten, and it was only by that small gesture that she could tell how much pain he was in. Before she left, the old woman gave Haldir a steaming mug.
"Drink this," she said. "It will dull the pain." As she left, the healer left orders for the Marchwarden and his daughter to have a few moments together without interruption. He looked at the cup in his hand suspiciously and Valariel slowly raised one eyebrow.
"Do not," she warned, "make me force you to drink it."
Haldir hesitated for one moment more, deciding whether or not she truly meant her threat. In the end, he decided he was in no position to argue with her and downed the bitter brew in one swallow. But as the foul taste disappeared, a warm spot formed in his stomach and started to radiate throughout his body.
"Have you seen Legolas?" asked Haldir.
Valariel flinched. They had not spoken that name since she'd first seen Legolas when she was little.
"Not yet. I thought it best to wait until the battle played out."
Haldir nodded. "Probably wise." He was silent for a long moment. "I did you a disservice, tinu daughter, all those years ago when you called him feahoon. I never told you why I was so angry with you."
"I disobeyed you and I embarrassed you in front of Lady Galadriel and Lord Celeborn." She'd never thought there was another reason for his anger.
Haldir smiled. "Indeed, you did do both of those things, and indeed I was vexed with you."
"Vexed?" Now Valariel laughed. "That is a quaint way of saying it."
"Valariel." Haldir grew serious. "I loved your mother very much. She healed much in me that was hurting. But before I knew Runevalas, I held in my arms – for a mere moment – my own feahoon."
Valariel became very still and focused on her father. She looked like a hawk, intense and bright.
"You…"
"Yes," he said. Then he told her the story of Maranwe and how the only time he was allowed with her was the few moments before she slipped beyond his grasp and into the Halls of Mandos.
"That moment," said Haldir, "was one of the most wonderful and most painful in my life. The feeling of understanding, acceptance… the knowledge that it would turn quickly to love was unlike anything else I've ever known. And to feel that slip away; for her to grow cold in my arms…" His voice was thick with remembered pain.
"Atar…father"
He raised a hand to silence her. "But the pain I felt, that I still feel sometimes in the dark reaches of the night, was worth it. Finding Maranwe, even for those few stolen moments, was worth it."
"I never knew. I was so angry with you for so long," said Valariel. "I thought you didn't understand."
"I know you were. You were so young. Too young to speak of a feahoon. You didn't understand what that word really means. Even now, you don't fully understand and you won't until you bond." He sighed as the medicine drew him down towards sleep. "Go find Legolas, Valariel. I doubt he felt the pull before because you were a child, but if you truly are feahoon, he will feel it now. You both came through Helm's Deep unscarred, do not waste any more time."
She rose and then hesitated, her eyes drifting to the bandages on Haldir's injuries.
"I will be here when you return," he said. "Now go or I shall order you from my presence."
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As always, thanks to those of you who have taken the time to review. Looking forward to more feedback!
Rating: PG
** ** ** ** ** **
Haldir was placed on a bed in the Keep. One of the healer-women stanched the wound in his back but it would need more attention if he lived. Aragorn, accompanied by Gandalf, Theoden, Eomer and Eowyn came in. Gandalf raised a hand for silence and they all complied. The Marchwarden looked eerily pale with his eyes staring up. Eomer was convinced he was dead as they all drew closer.
Her hands on his chest, Valariel closed her eyes, allowing her spirit to reach out. She followed the tenuous thread that held Haldir's soul to his body still. She could see her father, but everything in this world was fuzzy, grey. He was a bright beacon in the twilight and beyond him she could see a rosey light, like the very first touch of the sun on clouds the moment before sunrise. The doors to Mandos' Hall.
"You cannot go yet," she said. Everyone in the room looked at her.
"Can the dying Elf truly hear her?" whispered Eowyn.
"I don't know," answered her brother, Eomer.
"He can," said Aragorn. "It is hard to call one of their kin back when the journey to death has begun, but it can be done. It depends on how strong the bond is between those who call. Valariel is Haldir's daughter. If anyone can call him back, she can."
:Father.: Valariel spoke to his mind, his heart. :Do not depart for Mandos' great hall just yet. Please stay here.: It was a daughter's request.
:I am tired, daughter, hinder me no longer.:
:Hinder you?: There was a first note of anger in her voice. "Hinder you? You do not truly wish to go, Haldir of 'Lorien," she said out loud, knowing he could hear her physical voice. "Were you so eager to join Mandos in His Hall, you would have not lingered on as you have. We are not ready to be without you, Father, and you are not ready to go."
:You will not tell me what I do and do not want, Valariel! What is there to come back to? The Archers are devastated. I led them to their deaths; it is only fitting I should join them.:
Valariel changed her approach. Pleading with Haldir had not worked when she was a child and she knew it wouldn't work now. Her voice, instead of growing sad, grew cold, distant… insolent.
"Never, in all my long life," she growled, "did I ever believe I would live to see the Marchwarden of 'Lorien abandon his post willingly. Never did I foresee he would discount his own daughter's love with such expedience. Never, in my wildest dreams, did I ever imagine he would forsake the safety of the Lady Galadriel to whom he swore an oath to protect."
In an instant, her hands tingled and the twilight faded before a flaring light. She had hit her father in his most sensitive spot – his pride. His spirit rushed back to his body from the in-between world where he had hovered. Abruptly, and much to the shock of those who watched, he grabbed his daughter's wrist with some anger.
"You overstep yourself, Valariel," he snapped. The voice was soft, but there was still some bite in it. "You were ever a cheeky and difficult child."
:Forgive my hard words, Father. I would have said much worse, and dared your most terrifying temper, to keep you here. The Lady still needs you; I still need you.:
Haldir looked up at her and a small smile softened his stern face. "Amin mela lle, a'veryientinu…" I love you, my daring daughter.
"Amin mela lle," she whispered back.
"My Lady," said one of the healer women from the castle. "Please?" She held out her hands, filled with herbs and salves, and Valariel knew she was in the old woman's way.
"You are in the healers' hands now, Marchwarden," she said loudly enough for the room to hear. "Do not make me fetch you back a second time."
"Stay," said Haldir. He did not release her wrist. "Let the healer-woman work if she must, but then I would speak to you. Alone."
"Of course." Valariel looked up at the small group near her. "My Lord Eomer, would you bring word to your King that the Marchwarden has returned and will recover, although it will take much time?"
The small room cleared and Valariel waited for the healer to treat her father. The cut on his arm was salved and bound in clean linen strips. The wound on his back was far more severe. A mere inch to the side and it would have severed his spine. Any deeper and it would have rent his lung.
"You are very lucky," said the old woman. Haldir's expression didn't change as she salved the wound, but Valariel saw the edges of his eyes tighten, and it was only by that small gesture that she could tell how much pain he was in. Before she left, the old woman gave Haldir a steaming mug.
"Drink this," she said. "It will dull the pain." As she left, the healer left orders for the Marchwarden and his daughter to have a few moments together without interruption. He looked at the cup in his hand suspiciously and Valariel slowly raised one eyebrow.
"Do not," she warned, "make me force you to drink it."
Haldir hesitated for one moment more, deciding whether or not she truly meant her threat. In the end, he decided he was in no position to argue with her and downed the bitter brew in one swallow. But as the foul taste disappeared, a warm spot formed in his stomach and started to radiate throughout his body.
"Have you seen Legolas?" asked Haldir.
Valariel flinched. They had not spoken that name since she'd first seen Legolas when she was little.
"Not yet. I thought it best to wait until the battle played out."
Haldir nodded. "Probably wise." He was silent for a long moment. "I did you a disservice, tinu daughter, all those years ago when you called him feahoon. I never told you why I was so angry with you."
"I disobeyed you and I embarrassed you in front of Lady Galadriel and Lord Celeborn." She'd never thought there was another reason for his anger.
Haldir smiled. "Indeed, you did do both of those things, and indeed I was vexed with you."
"Vexed?" Now Valariel laughed. "That is a quaint way of saying it."
"Valariel." Haldir grew serious. "I loved your mother very much. She healed much in me that was hurting. But before I knew Runevalas, I held in my arms – for a mere moment – my own feahoon."
Valariel became very still and focused on her father. She looked like a hawk, intense and bright.
"You…"
"Yes," he said. Then he told her the story of Maranwe and how the only time he was allowed with her was the few moments before she slipped beyond his grasp and into the Halls of Mandos.
"That moment," said Haldir, "was one of the most wonderful and most painful in my life. The feeling of understanding, acceptance… the knowledge that it would turn quickly to love was unlike anything else I've ever known. And to feel that slip away; for her to grow cold in my arms…" His voice was thick with remembered pain.
"Atar…father"
He raised a hand to silence her. "But the pain I felt, that I still feel sometimes in the dark reaches of the night, was worth it. Finding Maranwe, even for those few stolen moments, was worth it."
"I never knew. I was so angry with you for so long," said Valariel. "I thought you didn't understand."
"I know you were. You were so young. Too young to speak of a feahoon. You didn't understand what that word really means. Even now, you don't fully understand and you won't until you bond." He sighed as the medicine drew him down towards sleep. "Go find Legolas, Valariel. I doubt he felt the pull before because you were a child, but if you truly are feahoon, he will feel it now. You both came through Helm's Deep unscarred, do not waste any more time."
She rose and then hesitated, her eyes drifting to the bandages on Haldir's injuries.
"I will be here when you return," he said. "Now go or I shall order you from my presence."
** ** ** ** ** ** **
As always, thanks to those of you who have taken the time to review. Looking forward to more feedback!