A Somewhat true Tale of Helms Deep
Chapter 8.....
By Liz
Disclaimer: Who will buy this wonderful Ranger? I'm so high I swear I would fly! Who will by this wonderful Ranger? And put him in a box for me?
I swear, I don't own Lotr OR Oliver...just.... don't bother me, please? Let me grieve by myself. Although I can do with out Oliver, shudder.
Chapter Name: And So This Life is Ended, I Shall Move on.
Warning: AU, most categorically AU, oh and OOC alert.
Meanings: -Telepathic massages-
Rated pg13
Chapter 8: And So This Life is Ended, I Shall Move on.
(LEGOLAS POV)
Before him stood what he thought was Samwe, a full grown woman with
Knee length hair that was unbound and hung free to blow in the breeze. A woman that was unharmed and was wearing a light green shirt and skin tight tan leather pants, clothes that he was sure he had never seen a woman in.
Clothes he had never seen Samwe in, he had never seen this woman before.
But, it had to be her! That voice!
"Samwe?" the elf pushed him self off the ground with his left hand and looked at his right leg, a single black arrow was imbedded in it, the tip scraping against his femur.
The woman let her sword drop till the point hovered over the ground.
She wore no sheath, but around her waist was a belt with a small tubular silver case about hand span and a half. Besides that, the sword was all that she had with her, no pack, no cloak, nothing.
"You have been badly hurt." Was all that she answered him.
With her free hand she touched the air by his bloody right bicep. He
felt a strange thing, a finger of power started to push the arrow out, he willed what ever it was to stop.
She then grabbed his left wrist and led him over to a shadowed corner; it was the same corner he had been shooting from. His right leg was already getting stiff and the pain from all three wounds made him stumbled once on the way over, but strangely enough he never hit the ground. It seemed as though a million of friendly invisible hands guided him up from the fall and then over to a ledge where he sat, dizzy from the experience.
"Who are you?" he said. His head was feeling less
dizzy, it was worse; in fact it felt fuzzy like he couldn't think of anything.
The woman busied herself with setting her sword down and taking his sword from his hand, then those invisible hands pushed him forward slightly so she could slid it back in its sheath on his back.
"Well," she started, "I heard you call me Samwe... is that true?"
The blonde elf nodded. He watched as she lad her hands an inch over the part of his flesh where the arrow entered into his leg.
"And do I look like this Samwe?" He closed his eyes in pain and grunted in affirmative.
He felt the same multiple hands gently pry the muscles in his leg apart around the arrow and then he felt the arrow being pulled out; he looked down and gasped in amazement. The arrow was pulling its self out of his flesh! He looked up at the woman, she had stood up and moved back about three feet, and her hands were moving in front of her, slowly, carefully, like she was separating the dust from the air, then he realized what she was doing. The pain in his leg disappeared, and he looked down to see the arrow out and hovering in the air and the muscles and skin pull to each other, healing right in front of his eyes. Then he felt very drowsy, and his mind closed over from her will over his body and he welcomed the darkness, away from the confusion and the pain of the arrows in his hand and arm.
Flash Back
The rain had let up a bit. Aragorn was yelling at the elves to aim at the line of Uruk-hai on the causeway, the beasts were carrying a ram with them.
The Lothlórien elves had shot, but the shields; they deflect most of the shots. I occupied my self with shooting down any Uruk-hai archer I could get in my sights.
And then, I will always remember my failing, the cause of the death of my people.
Aragorn, he called at me, I will always remember those words.
Dago hon dad, Legolas. Dago hon, dago hon. Bring him down, Legolas.
Kill him, kill him.
I did not kill him. I did not bring him down. I shot and he kept oncoming. I shot him again. Be he would not stop! The Uruk only dived into the hole in the Deeping Wall.
That hole, and I, I a Prince of Mirkwood! I Legolas Greenleaf, Prince of Elves, was the downfall of Rohan.
The next thing that happened was the breaching of Helms Deep through the Wall, and The Gate.
And all that bleed after that, was my fault. I might as well have dealt the wounds myself.
End Flash Back
Someone was standing over him, to kill him most likely. "My fault... it
Was all my fault!" He was sobbing, he didn't care, his elven dignity be damned. "Kill me... I deserve to die!"
He felt a cool hand on his forehead and a calm voice in his
head
whispered a lullaby to him.
It invited him to rest, back to the darkness. "...my fault..." he was
mumbling now. Darkness pulled at the corners of his mind.
-Sleep my child.-
That was all that was needed. He fell limp into the arms of the woman.
She laid him back down on the stone make-shift bed, and went back to
healing him. She started to hum out loud, then softly sing the
lullaby.
"Close thy eyes, welcome the night.
This day has gone by, fast enough.
Now is time, to rest you eyes.
And tomorrow, when you wake,
There will be new things to see.
And new friends to make.
Live, love, laugh and learn.
But now my child, O my child,
Sleep now. Sleep is
calling
Sleep my child.
Night is calling for you to lie down,
Lie down your tired body to a cool bed.
O dream happy dreams my dear.
Dream of bubbling brooks, the song of the birds,
Warmth of the Sun, and the talk of trees.
Dream of the ones you hold dear.
Live, love, laugh and learn.
But now my child, O my
child,
Sleep now. Sleep is calling
Sleep my child.
There was much more, but as a rule, old songs that were sung in whole
back before we came, shall be only known in part.
(HAILDIR POV)
All night, he had worked to help Samwe, her blood was every where. And he was no Healer.
If the dawn began to creep through a window high up, the three people took no notice of it.
'She's dieing... oh Vala, Samwe don't die! No! Good, Eowyn is here... press down on this wound, No! She's losing too much blood, push harder... Eowyn! Samwe don't move! Please hold still! Here take my hand... no, breathe! Breath dammit!'
Haldir gave up hope when Samwe's body had stopped all movement of any kind. He began a prayer to Varda and Manwë as he bent over his friends face.
"Samwe?"
((Legolas POV))
"You were out for awhile; I've healed the wound in your thigh and managed to re-grow the lost muscle, nerves and veins in your arm. Don't touch it!
I will have to leave the wound in you hand for your own healing to do.
Your body if confused at the moment, so just rest here a moment before you try anything," the voice paused, "well, stupid."
Legolas cracked
his eyes open, what he saw disturbed him so much he screamed.
The inch of flesh that had been sliced off his arm, was there, like it had never left his body. The only difference was that it had a pink ruddy look to it, like a layer of skin had been pealed back from his arm. He reached out to feel it when his hand was gently moved aside by a smaller, feminine one. Still listening to the woman that was wrapping a piece torn off of his cloak around his wounded hand, he brought his right knee up to bring his thigh into view. It was a little stiff, but other then that, all he could see was a round hole in the fabric where the arrow had gone
through.
'Strange, what magic is this?'
Out loud he asked her again, but this time with more force, "Who are
you?"
The woman took no notice of the scream, as if she had expected it,
"Well I'm not even sure of that after what you called me, but, that
matters not for now. What is your name, elfling?"
Legolas skipped over the proud for his age and answered her telling her nothing about his heritage,
"I am Legolas, Lady, "He stressed the Lady, "I am an Elf of Mirkwood."
Obviously puzzled she asked were Mirkwood was. Legolas thought that
She surely jested, even the race of Men knew
where Mirkwood was, but then he realized that he had no clue of what he talked about.
"It is a large wood Lady, east of the Misty Mountains, south of Ered
Mithrin, west of the Iron Hills, and north of Fangorn Forest."
The woman's face lit up, "Oh! You mean Greenwood the Great,
and-and-and-"she snapped her fingers about three times then she seemed to remember what she wanted, "Fangorn! Ah yes the Ent, ol' Treebeard, how is he and his brother Finglas and Fladrif doing?"
Legolas looked at her face in amazement, "I know not of how he is, for I have never seen him or any other ent for that matter."
((The Lady's POV))
"Lag'las? What--what year is it?" Her voice cracked, the name
of
Greenwood had changed for Pete's sake, and an elf, a Wood elf at that!
Had never seen an Ent, what had happen in the years she had been gone?
"Thirty eighteen-" the elf paused as if wondered if she wanted the day as well, she didn't stop him so he continued, "March
3rd."
Her voice was a complete whisper, "Second Age?" she felt weak.
The elf didn't take long in answering her, "Third Age."
And now she felt defeated. She lowered her head in a sort of failure.
"Oh, I have missed, so much."
Her next question startled the elf to a sitting position, "The Lord
Elrond and Lady Celebrían, The Lady Galadriel, Lord Celeborn, Lord
Círdan, are they... do thy... live?"
"The Lady of Rivendell sailed to the Valinor along time ago." It was a new voice, a man's voice. And he held his sword at the ready.
She turned to look at him, and behind him stood a squad of men. And one dwarf.
The man and dwarf made it to the end of the stairs unscathed. But by then it was too late. Aragorn wiped The
Flame of the West on his pant leg and slid it in its scabbard. There was no formation of Lothlórien warriors to be seen, and only a few elves still fought. It would have been defeated if the Uruk-hai had made it past the doors five hours ago. But they had not, and victory was in their grasp.
"The elves..." Gimli's voice held a tone, of, a degree of sadness for the other race. "They are gone Aragorn, all but a few are gone. And I feel like I could weep for I do not see my own dear elf friend."
Aragorn did not respond but only to lightly touch the dwarf shoulder in shared sympathy.
Then in sudden lull to the noise of battle they heard something that made them grin to each other, an Elvin scream. It was Legolas's scream.
"We now know that he lives, for now." Aragorn took off in the direction of the scream, "Come mellon nin, let us see if he has beaten you at the game."
The Ranger cursed in elvish when a squad of Uruk-hai saw them and came their way. They were drastically out numbered. This was a large squad, clearly trained to work as a team. They had not a chance to defeat them alone. Aragorn placed his hand on the hilt of his sword but a hand stopped him from drawing it out.
"Lord Aragorn, Let us draw swords together!!" It was Èomer and a group of about ten Riders of Rohan, on foot.
"Mellon nin, you do not know how glad I am to see you." He clasped
Eomeron the shoulder then pulled Andúil from the
scabbard. It sang out a shrill note.
Èomer grinned and nodded, pulling his sword out as well. "Forth
Eorlingas!" With a loud scream they ran to meet the Uruk-hai as one body, many minds, and a whole lot of swords.
(HAILDIR POV)
Oh Valar, so much blood, so much blood, everywhere, to much blood,
"Eowyn, help!"
"Samwe! I commend that you return to us." Haldir reached
out his
spirit to the retreated glow of Samwe's life force.
-Samwe, come back, it is not your time to die- He could see her spirit form standing right in front of him. He reached out and touched her shoulder.
-Haldir, I must admit,
you are the first elf who has tried to retrieve me from my death.-
Haldir felt weak, he could feel Èowyn's fear unconsciously pull him back to the real world. He braced him self from the Lady's fear. And managed to stay, just barely, in the between world.
-Come- He joined as much persistence with the thought as he could.
–Please-
She turned about face to him,
–I must go, for I am weary of life. But you will see me again this day, despair not.- She gave a short bitter laugh -Maybe not for another
lifetime, Haldir, but I, Samwe Eerangel will come back to Middle Earth. But now, my friends will forgive me if I stupidly make an error, a Sarah
Eerandgel is here, and she must be explained to. You will know what to say when you see her-
-You confuse me, Samwe, do you do that to everyone you meet? - She was going to die!! How could they see her again if she is dead? And who was this Sarah with her same name. Did Eerandgel mean that you were part
dragon?
Samwe just smiled and cupped his face with both of her hands and pulled him down to her level. Looking him eye to eye, her mind whispered softly,
-May your gods, the Valar, protect all of my friends in this world. And
may my Lord and Savoir, Bless and Keep you, May the Lord lift His face upon you and grant you peace. Aman, And so let it be-
When she had said the benediction to the elf he felt that everything
would be okay, that said she rose up on her tip toes and barely touched her lips to his forehead.
–Give my bag into the safe keeping of Estel. Farewell-
And with that she pushed the elf away from her and back to the world of the living.
He felt a something salty and wet drop to his lips. He felt cold, and
strange. His lungs, he needed air!!
(EOWYN POV)
"Lord Haldir!!" Eowyn had never been happier to see some one breath in her life, tears of joy ran down her face "I thought I had lost you as well."
He opened his eyes and looked up to the eyes of the young human woman who had helped him with Samwe. She was sitting on the floor her legs curled out to one side, he was lying in her lap; they were right beside the table where Samwe had died. He reached out to touch her face. It was wet,
"You cry for me?"
Eowyn nodded tears still dropping, "You had leaned over Samwe for sometime, I thought you to have died, and then you fell back as if... as if someone had pushed you."
Then they both realized that they were in a way holding the other in an embrace, both of their faces warmed slightly and they helped each other to their feet. Haldir hide the sudden feelings for the Lady Eowyn, and looked at Samwe.
Her dark hair framed her face, the life had left her cheeks and under the cloak, her chest did not move. Her facial expression held the most peace he had ever seen on it before. Her wounds had stopped bleeding. And now as he watched the blood congealed itself in to scabs. The had began the healing process too late. Much too late. He reached out to touch the paleface of his friend.
She didn't open her eyes, just like he had expected, but still,
"Samwe!"
His sob was so loud that the seven who stood out side the door could hear him.