Nine days after the battle, we were on the road ... again. We rode day and night, heading for Isenguard, following the obvious signs leading towards the White Hand of Saruman. After I 'woke up' Aragorn had refused to let me stand and carried me back to the keep. He was insisted that I would patched up by Eowyn and Eowyn thankfully did not think it was necessary for me to take my shirt off (though I'm sure she would've changed my mind, had I been Aragorn) … that situation could have got very messy, very quickly. While she was patching me up, she happened to notice that I was staring rather appreciatively at a handsome male backside (I'm injured, not dead … anymore) as he bent over to pass me my gun. When I realized what I was doing, I snapped my gaze to away and back towards her.
"I ... I … Please don't say anything." I stuttered. Well, what was I supposed to say? 'I'm not gay, I'm a girl!'.
"About what?" Eowyn asked, turned an interesting shade of magenta before continuing her work, studiously avoiding my eyes. To be honest, I think she was more disappointed than shocked.
'Captain Faith. A hero, a warrior ... and a poof.'
Heh.
I was supposed to stay behind with the wounded, the women and the children while the others headed out for Isenguard to face Saruman ... but I wasn't having any of it. I dragged myself up and Spirit was waiting for me just outside Fangorn forest. I never thought I'd see the day when I was happy to see a horse.
Gandalf and I spoke in hushed tones by the fire that night as I explained that I had to get Saruman's Book of Power and destroy it, for the sake of my people. I didn't elaborate. He didn't ask.
The company had ate in a heavy silence that night, King Theoden and the Horse Lords mourning for the losses of their people. The amount casualties was far too large for me to be able to get a good night's sleep ... but I consoled myself with the thought that it would have been worse if we hadn't have damned up the drain.
When he had finished, Gandalf quietly passed me a large leather bound book written in a language I couldn't read and I dutifully shoved it into my backpack. He told me it was the Book of the Living Dead, a book filled with the experiences of those who had passed through the Veil and returned, like I had.
It was strange to be back in the world after everything I had seen. I could remember every single little detail, though most of it didn't make sense. I felt as though my life was like a glove that doesn't fit. It's hard to explain but I'll give it my best shot:
It was like everything that I had thought beautiful before, now looked dull and ordinary. 2D, almost. Everything was flat and the colours of the world were not even close to as bright and real as those I saw in The Other Place. That's what I've taken to calling it. I don't think it was heaven, because someone who's taken as many lives as I have wouldn't be allowed in. But it wasn't hell either, I was far too happy and content there. No, I think that The Other Place is a place older than I could possibly imagine. Older than Old Middle-Earth. Older than the Elves ... now any other place would pale in comparison. It was rather depressing actually.
Now any other person who'd been through what I had been through would probably spend the rest of their days thinking about my experience, researching and philosophising on God, Eru … or whatever.
But I'm not any other person.
I'm soldier, and a damn good one if I do say so myself. The only way to be a good soldier and stay sane is to ... how could I put it ... is to file away your memories. You learn to just take everything you've seen in the lest few days, shove it in a closet at the back of your brain and put a lock on it until there's a time to think properly.
Well, that's what I did. I forced myself to forget everything about The Other Place … everything. I forced myself to file away memory of Leith, telling myself I had to move on. I had to carry on living, creating a new life for myself … and he was no longer a part of that life.
"Where do you want to go when this is over and done with, Faith?" Gimli asked, startling me out of thoughts.
"What? Sorry I wasn't paying much attention." I said, wincing slightly when Spirit stumbled, jarring me. 'Note to Self: Must talk with someone about a getting a proper saddle with actual padding. My behind can't take much more of this.' I thought, shifting uncomfortably.
"If we survive all this, where to you wish to go? I wish to go back to the caverns of Helm's Deep to truly enjoy their splendour." He said, his eyes shining with delight at the very thought. "The Elf wishes to go back and look at some trees." He added, looking disdainful. Legolas merely rolled his eyes. Bet you never knew Elves rolled their eyes. They do it quite a lot actually. It's rather annoying.
"I ... to be honest I'm not sure where I'll go. I have no home or family so ... I suppose I would wander about for a few years." I murmured, the innocent question catching me off guard. I hadn't thought of what I would do if I survived all this.
Would I be sent forwards in time, back to my own time? Or would I live out the rest of my life here in Old Middle Earth? Where would I go? The questions spun about my head until I was dizzy, but I knew that no amount of guesswork could fathom what would actually happen. This was all getting to be a bit much. "I ... I'm going to ride ahead to check out the territory, if that's alright with you King Theoden!" I called ahead, my voice wavering ever so slightly. I cursed myself mentally for the slip, swallowing down the nervous lump in my throat.
"Of course," Theoden called back before continuing his conversation with Gandalf and Aragorn. Good, nobody noticed my slip up then. I nodded thanks and kicked into Spirit's sides, enjoying the feeling of the cool wind caressing my the open cuts on my face and drying out some of the un identifiable gunk in my hair. Soon, I was about half a mile in front, rejoicing at the feeling that I could breathe. I barely even noticed when another horse levelled with us.
I glanced over and started when I saw who it was. Haldir. He was safe. I felt oddly relieved at the revelation and one of the many knots in my stomach disappeared. His face and hair was as clean and beautiful as always, though his clothes were just as tattered and bloody as mine. I expected him to say something, but instead he just continued to urge his horse on, the wind whipping his hair from his face. So, I followed his suit and stared ahead, enjoying our silent companionship.
Eventually, I felt Spirit tiring beneath me and I pulled on the reins gently, letting the poor horse walk for a little and Haldir did the same.
I looked back, realizing the company that I had left Helm's Deep with were now tiny spots on the horizon. Let me tell you, horses are pretty damn fast when they feel like it. It would take about half a day before they could reach us.
"I owe you my life ... I am centuries older than you, perhaps even a millennia. So why is it, that you are so much wiser than I?" Haldir said, still not looking at me. I blinked owlishly.
"Pardon?" I asked, not sure what he was getting at … if he was getting at anything at all. Elves are like that. They just make a random statement and then move on. I think it's a rule in the Elven Handbook. I can see it now: Rule 3056- Confuse weak and petty humans by making deep and insightful statements and then completely changing the subject before they can make sense of it.
"Your eyes … they hold such powerful knowledge and wisdom. I find it almost disturbing in one as young as you. You are like a child to me." He said thoughtfully. It wasn't intended as an insult, but I find that when in doubt, go for the defensive.
"I'm not a child. I lost that privilege the first time I took another person's life." I snapped, keeping my eyes set on the road before us. There was a short, tense silence before Haldir spoke again.
"You were young? When you lost your innocence?" He asked, his voice so low I could barely hear him over the clumping of the horses feet on the thick sodden grass.
"Thirteen, and not a day older." I said, my voice just as low. "And you?" I added, finally lifting my eyes to his face.
"I was two hundred and four ... about the equivalent of age sixteen of our years." He said, meeting my gaze for the first time … and then I saw it. The Look. The look nobody could possibly understand unless they'd been in the same situation. That odd balance of guilt and acceptance.
"You didn't want to kill," I stated flatly.
"But I had to," Haldir said, nodding. I gave him a small, weary smile which he returned almost instantly. "You owe me a fight, Captain Faith." He said, his tone lighter and full of feigned arrogance and bravado … well, most of it was feigned anyway.
"So keen to be beaten, Captain Haldir?" I retorted, unable to keep a grin off my face.
"Pride always comes before a fall," Haldir said, raising an eyebrow. The Eyebrow Raise. Yet another 'Elf Thing'. I should write a book. Seriously.
"You'd do well to remember that one," I laughed. It was weird really, we hardly knew each other but we felt as though we had known each other for years. The bond of soldiers. I'm sure I've mentioned it before. It was ... well, for lack of a better word ... it was nice. Just like two mates engaged in a friendly banter in a world where there was no pain, or suffering. No wars or hunger. Just the two of us.
Yeah, it was defiantly ni … oh no. Oh bloody NO! "BAD HORSE! BAD HORSE!" I yelled as Spirit chose this particular moment to take a running leap over an alarmingly wide stream. I shut my eyes and leaned forwards, wrapping my arms around Spirit's neck as we soared through the air ... and then ... THUMP. Back onto the ground and dear God, my arse was suddenly in unbelievable pain.
I turned and glared indignantly at Haldir, who was trying very hard not to laugh. "Not one word, or I'll kill you with my bare hands, Elf." I growled.
"You have my word of honour," He forced out, the corners of his lips twitching perilously. Bastard.
"I'm in serious pain here," I said, meaning to sound threatening but ending up sounding rather pathetic. Haldir's smile disappeared and he frowned, his sharp eyes scanning my body for wounds.
"No. I mean ..." I shifted again, wincing ... and the infuriating almost-smile was back.
"That's because you are not riding her properly. Your kind have not learned to become one with the horse. That is why you are in pain," He said condescendingly. I narrowed my eyes,
"Well show my how to ride, Oh Mighty Elf," I said, my voice dripping with sarcasm. Haldir smirked, and gracefully jumped down from his grey horse.
Bloody Elves.
"I shall, fair lady," He said, reaching up to lift me down off the horse like a pathetic medieval maiden in a frock.
Two words: As. If.
I rolled my eyes and gingerly climbed down, pointedly ignoring his open arms and stumbling slightly when I hit the ground. He steadied me and let me rest my weight on his shoulder until I regained my bearings. Riding can do that to you. I noticed he was about half a head taller than me, because I found myself staring at his lips. Oops. "So ... how am I supposed to ride?" I asked, a little too loudly.
"You are riding the horse as though it is the servant. You should ride him like he is giving you a gift," He explained slowly, as though talking to a two year old.
"Alright ... and how do I do that?" I asked, confused. Haldir gave me a tolerant smile (which I chose to ignore) and gestured to Spirit.
"He allows you to travel on her back for days and receives nothing in return. You must treat him with respect and he will treat you with the same," He said, running his fingers along Spirit's smooth coat.
"I ... I'll try," I whispered, following his movement. Haldir glanced down and his sharp features seeming to soften. Uh oh.
"You are truly extraordinary," He breathed, focusing his intense gaze the cuts and grazes on my face. My breath caught in my throat when his stare travelled down until it reached my shoulder that was wrapped in bandages. "I wish I had been there to stop this," He added, touching the wound with his cool, gentle fingers. I watched, entranced by his movements and then I found myself tilting my head to the side and ...
"Captain Faith! Are you alright!?" A voice shouted from far away, startling us both. Haldir drew his hand back sharply and I practically leapt about three feet backwards. When I finally found my voice and turned,
"Yes! I'm fine!" I shouted back, glad Eowyn wasn't allowed to join us or there would be whole hell of a lot of blushing and stammering.
"We should go and rejoin the others." Haldir said, looking more uncomfortable than I had ever thought possible. I nodded mutely and turned to mount Spirit. I hissed in pain when I tried to get back on him and immediately, Haldir was at my side, lifting me easily up onto the horse and slipping my feet into the stirrups. I looked down, astonished. To be fair, he looked even more shocked than I did. He was staring at his hands as though they had betrayed him.
"Thank you," I said awkwardly. Haldir bowed his head a little and easily slid up onto his horse. He didn't have a saddle at all. We looked at each other for another moment before turning and riding back towards the group.
I spent the rest of the night thinking about what almost happened. I felt guilty. Guilty that I had almost kissed someone who wasn't Leith. But at the same time, I felt a sort of calm. Peace. Someone could understand. Someone cared.
Of course Aragorn, Legolas and Gimli cared. They had become friends. But as much as they cared, each one were willing to sacrifice me in order to destroy the One Ring. And I respect that. I feel the same way about them ... but with Haldir ... I feel as though I may truly be missed. That I may be mourned for and remembered not as Captain Faith, the brave and noble hero. But just as me. Faith. The girl who doesn't take any crap, has a warped sense of humour and a terrible sense of balance.
And then I suddenly realized what it was that made me feel as though maybe I did belong in this world, rather than the next.
When my mission was complete … I had a reason to stay.