Disclaimer: Check Chapter One, Oh and I admit to taking dialogue from the
books for this chapter. My story overlaps a bit of the story in the book so
yeah. Don't sue
AN: Okay, um I kinda screwed up in here and got the book and the movie screwed. So yeah, if it doesn't sound like it's from the book it's from the movie. Or vice versa. :D
The plan went well enough, though he had lost two of his men. None of the Orcs had survived. Marik had returned an hour before the sun rose and they had rode some distance away to have the breakfast and a short rest.
As it was, it was past eleven when they finally departed again, riding hard to the North in hopes of reaching the outskirts of Lorien by nightfall then entering the cursed wood in the morning light after a good nights rest.
"Riders of Rohan! What news from the Mark?" A loud voice called from behind them. With a silent signal they turned, heading back to the callers.
His men silently circled the three, their spears pointed towards them. "Who are you, and what are you doing in this land?" He demanded. They were warriors and could be working for the foul Saruman who had taken over his uncles mind.
"I am called Strider," The Man answered. "I came out of the North. I am hunting Orcs."
Eomer dismounted his stallion, handing the Elf-maid to Marik and his spear to Hattim. He drew his sword and stood face to face with the Man who called himself Strider.
"At first I thought you yourselves to be Orcs" He said; "but now I see that is not so. Indeed you know little of Orcs, if you go hunting them in this fashion. They were swift and well-armed, and they were many. You would have changed from hunters to prey, if ever you had overtaken them. But there is something strange about you, Strider." He said, looking sternly at the Man for a moment. "That is not name for a Man that you give. And strange too is your garb. Have you sprung out of the gras? How did you escape our sight? Are you elvish folk?" He asked with some hope.
"No," Said Strider. "One only of us in an Elf, Legolas from the Woodland Realm in distant Mirkwood. But we have passed through Lothlorien, and the gifts and favor of the Lady go with us."
"Then there is a Lady in the Golden Wood, as old tales tell!" He said, for he had doubted that Elves truly did roam those woods. "Few escape her nets, they say. These are strange days! But if you have her favor, then you also are net-weavers and sorcerers, maybe." He turned his eyes upon the Elf and Dwarve of the party, eying them coldly. "Why do you not speak, silent ones?"
The Dwarve rose up, looking indignantly at the him. "Give me your name, horse-master, and I will give you mine, and more besides." He said, his hands gripping his axe.
"As for that, the stranger should declare himself first. Yet I am named Eomer son of Eomund, and am the Third Marshal of Riddermark." Eomer said.
"Then Eomer son of Eomund, Third Marshal of Riddermark, let Gimli the Dwarf Gloin's son warn you against foolish words. You speak evil of that which is fair beyond the reach of your thought, and only little wit can excuse you." The Dwarve said haughtily.
Anger swept through Eomer at the insolence of the Dwarve, the men behind him murmured just as angry, their spears closing in on the three. "I would cut off your head, beard and all, Master Dwarf, if it stood but a little higher from the ground." He said angrily, his thoughts going back to the beauty of the elf-maid in Mariks arms.
"He stands not alone." The Elf said quickly, his bow already notched with an arrow. "You would die before your stroke fell."
"Your Dwarve knows nothing in the measure of beauty." Eomer said angrily. "There can be none more fair than the elf-maid in our company!"
"So show her then!" Gimli challenged, the Elf had still not yet put his arrow back in his quiver. "Not with weapons drawn." Eomer said quickly. "She has already drawn injury unto herself, I would not risk it again. Not with such quick tempered comrades."
Legolas reluctantly quivered his arrow and shouldered his bow in Elven fashion. Eomer whistled quickly and a big brown horse with a dark haired Man upon it stepped forward. In the Mans arms there lie the elf- maid.
The Elf gave a cry and paled, pushing through the spears of the Men surrounding him to Marik's side. He gently took the elf-maid from Mariks arms, kneeling lightly on the ground. He looked over her, searching for any other injury than the one visible on her temple.
"You will pay dearly for the harm you have caused her, horse-master." Legolas hissed. "You have captured the blood of the Lord and Lady of the Golden Wood. This is Naltariel, their only child." His friendship with the princess of Lorien was little known, but Strider knew her as well. If these Men meant harm to her he knew he would have one ally to stand with him against the tide.
"Harm I have caused her? Harm I have caused her indeed! Without us she would have been dead. A score of Orcs were pursuing her, she was weaponless and exhausted! Her horse stumbled on the river bed and tossed her across the water. She would not have survived without our aid!" Eomer snapped.
Legolas glared at him, obviously not believing the tale. "Legolas, how does she fare?" Strider asked in concern. He had grown up with the presence of Naltariel in Rivendell when he was a child.
"Well enough for the moment, but not healthy. She fades." The Elf replied bitterly.
"Who are you truly? And whom do you serve?" Eomer demanded from Strider.
"I serve no Man" The Man threw back his cloak. He gripped the hilt of his sword and it glittered bright as a flame as he swept the blade from it's sheath. "Elendil!" He cried. "I am Aragorn son of Arathorn, and am called Elessar, the Elfstone, Dunadan, the heir of Isildur Elendil's son of Gondor. Here is the sword that was Broken and is forged again!"
Eomer stared at the Man in awe, Isildur's heir! The lost King of Gondor! Songs and legends had spoken for ages of the return of the line of Elendil to the thrown of Gondor. "Tell me, lord, what brings you here? And what was the meaning of the dark words? Long has Boromir son of Denethor been gone seeking an answer, and the horse that we lent him came back riderless. What doom do you bring out of the North?"
"The doom of choice," said Aragorn. "You may say this to Theoden son of Thengel: open war lies before him, with Sauron or against him. But of these great matters we will speak later. If chance allows, I will come myself to the king. Now I am in great need, and I ask for help, or at least for tidings. You heard that we are pursuing an orc-host that carried off our friends. What can you tell us?"
"That you need not pursue them further," Eomer said regretfully, for surely it would have been the same host as they had destroyed in the night. "The Orcs are destroyed."
"And our friends?" Aragorn asked.
"We found none but Orcs." Eomer said.
"Did you search the slain?" Aragorn demanded. "Were there no bodies other than those of orc-kind? They would be small, only children in your eyes, unshod but clad in grey."
"There were no dwarves nor children. We counted all the slain and despoiled them, and then we piled the carcases and burned them, as is our custom. The ashes are smoking still." He answered.
"We do not speak of dwarves or children," said Gimli. "Our friends were hobbits."
"I know not of hobbits, but I give you my word there were none but Orcs in that host." Eomer gave a short whistle and two horses stepped forward. "This is Arod and Hasufel, may they bear you to better fortune than their previous masters."
"That's it?" Legolas demanded. "What of Lady Naltariel?"
"We are riding North to the woods of Lorien to return her to her home." Eomer answered. "The smoke can still be seen to the South if you wish still to search for your friends. I would not hope for too much though."
Eomer lifted Naltariel from Legolas' arms and back onto the back of his horse, then mounted behind her. They watched in wonder as the Elf took the saddle and rein from Arod, then leapt lightly up. Arod was willing and tame beneath him, moving here and there with a spoken word of elvish. The Dwarf reluctantly was lifted up onto the horse behind the Elf, as everyone knew Dwarves did not ride horses. When finally up, Gimli clutched tight to the back of the Elf.
Aragorn lightly mounted Hasufel then rode to the side of Eomer. "When you arrive at the edge of the wood, look for an Elf named Haldir, he is a border guard. Give him this," He said, pulling the leaf at his throat that held his cloak closed off and handed it to Eomer. "He will know it has come from us."
The two horses turned and galloped away towards the South, towards the smoke coming from the Orc carcases. Eomer sighed and tucked the pin into his pocket so at not to lose it. Then he looked down at the elf-maid in his arms. Naltariel, he thought, looking down upon her features. The name was near as beautiful as was she.
"Come on. We may still reach the eaves of the forest before nightfall." Eomer called, leading his men once more into a quick gallop to the North. He drew his cloak around Naltariel to hide her from hostile view.
They made it to the eaves of Lorien with no more incidents to note of. The forest loomed ahead of them, a feeling of foreboding fell over Eomer's heart. They had reached the forest an hour or two before they had expected, for none had ventured this far North.
"What now, Lord? Do we venture into the wood or wait until morning?" Marik asked at his side.
Eomer had just been pondering that question himself. He looked down at the elf-maid in his arms, she did not look well. "We will venture into the woods a bit. We are to look for an Elf named Haldir."
The men slowly ventured into the woods, riding in rows of three. They did not go far into the woods, barely twenty minutes when they suddenly found themselves surrounded with arrows.
"Who are you? What are you doing in this wood?" A voice demanded harshly from Eomer's left. He turned and saw a stern faced but fair haired Elf standing with his arrow aimed straight at his throat.
"Peace! We come in peace!" Eomer cried. "I am Eomer of Rohan. A lady of this wood ventured into our realm and were are here to return her. She has been pursued by a score of Orcs yet that was not what wounded her. Her horse threw her across a small river. We slew the Orcs but when we found her she was already injured. We are supposed to find an Elf by the name of Haldir, or so Aragorn son of Arathorn told us."
"Then indeed you have come to the right part of the woods," The Elf said, "I am Haldir. Where is the woman, I fear it may be Lady Naltariel who went missing after her morning ride four days ago."
"So the Elf, Legolas, said it was." Eomer said regretfully as he drew his cape away so she could be seen. He heard the arrows around him grow tighter. "I did not wound her! But aided her as best I know how! I have a pin given to me by Lord Aragorn, who also goes by the name of Strider, it is said to vouch my tale."
"Show me this pin, though I have little doubt of your tale now. Her wound was obviously not made by any weapon." Haldir said, cautiously stepping towards the Man. Eomer reached into his pocket and withdrew the pin, handing it to the Elf.
Haldir hardly looked at it before handing it back. "It is of the pins Lady Galadriel gave Aragorn's company."
Eomer looked down as the elf-maid shifted uncomfortably in his arms, the familiar whispering trees awaking her slightly. Her eyes came slightly open and she looked around. "Haldir?" She asked in confusion.
"I am here, my love." Haldir said soothingly, taking Naltariel from Eomer's arms. Eomer stiffened slightly at the adornment but he did not know why. "Elye nar varna si."(You are safe now) Haldir let loose a sharp whistle and a few moments a horse rode to him.
He lifted her up onto the horse then jumped up behind her. "Follow me." Haldir said quickly to the Men behind him, sending silent orders to the other Elves.
The Riders of Rohan rode cautiously behind Eomer, still not trusting the hospitality of the Elves. They rode in silence, Haldir rode before them speaking soft words to Naltariel as they went.
"Eomer of Rohan, you and I will ride ahead. They will want to speak with you before your army arrives." Haldir said. Then he spoke some elvish to an Elf nearby and they galloped on ahead.
A while later they game upon the city, it glittered brightly in the setting sun and Eomer was overcome with awe. Never before had he seen a place of such beauty, not even the White City of Minas Tirith compared with the beauty of Lorien.
Haldir dismounted his stallion and lifted Naltariel into his arms. Eomer followed suit and they soon stood side by side before a low stair leading into one of the great houses of Lorien. A bright light it seemed to emanate from behind two Elves that walked towards them down the stairs. Eomer lowered his eyes in reverence as they stood before him, their beauty great.
Eomer considered the words of Gimli the Dwarve, but could not admit that the Lady of the Woods beauty was greater than her daughters. It was more mature but that did not appeal to him as much as the youth of Naltariel.
"Much sleep we have lost worrying over the fate of Naltariel. Even my own wisdom could not foresee her future." The Lady said, indeed she looked very similar to her daughter, the same bright blue eyes and long flowing blonde hair in waves down her back.
"Injury has come to her though, it seems." The Lord said, his grey eyes piecing Eomer as though a deer caught in the sights of an arrow.
"My Lord, he has met with Aragorn upon his travels and he believed his tale. She was hunted by Orcs and in her haste Laurea stumbled and threw her across a small river. This Man, Eomer of Rohan, has tended to her wounds as best he knows how and has returned her to us now." Haldir said indifferently. "If indeed this is truth, we owe you, Eomer son of Eomund of Rohan, very much." The Lady said slowly, stepping towards him.
Eomer bowed to her. "Any other would do the same as I in the same circumstances." He said humbly.
"If you think that, you are a fool." The Lord said. "Her beauty is rare. Men of less valor would have taken her as their own, condemning her to a life I dare not think of. I name you Elf-friend, Eomer son of Eomund."
"And we welcome you and your Men to rest this night in our hospitality." The Lady said. "Lord Celeborn and I, Lady Galadriel welcome you to the Golden Wood whenever you feel the need." The Lady said. "Haldir, take Naltariel to the healing pools."
Haldir bowed slightly then carried the elf-maid away on a path leading to the left of where Eomer stood. Eomer was led off to the right by another elf-maid, and though by the standards of Men she was beyond fair, it was no comparison to the beauty of Lady Naltariel.
Naltariel opened her eyes slowly, the ice cold water around her was seeping life back into her veins. She looked up into the tender face of Haldir, holding her so her head was above the water.
"Haldir?" She whispered. He nodded slightly and she pulled herself into his arms, hugging him tightly. "I want you to teach me everything."
"Everything?" Haldir asked confused.
"Bow, sword, and knife. You wield all three, I want to learn." She said with stubbornly.
"Naltariel, you are not a warrior. You are a maiden." Haldir said softly.
"And how far did that get me? Had it not been for the Vala that came down to me I would have been slain!" She exclaimed.
"Vala?" Haldir asked. "Describe him to me."
"Well . . . he had deep brown eyes and shoulder length brown hair. Muscular. Strong yet kind. He saved me." She said slowly.
"Naltariel, that was no Vala. That was a Man." Haldir said cautiously.
She pushed away from him, as though he were the Man they had spoken of. Long years had Men been known to take Elven maidens for their own pleasure. It was the downfall of their beauty, that all would wish to possess.
"No!" She cried. "That cannot be!" She looked down across her body but could find no wounds left to convict the Man.
"Hush hush, Naltariel. You were lucky. I do not believe he injured you. You were found by one of the few noble Men left." Haldir said softly as he waded over to her and drew her back into his arms, whispering words of comfort to her. "He did not hurt you. If he had, he would not have made it as far as to the Lord and Lady."
She shuddered and held tighter to Haldir, she had been warned since a child not to trust the likes of Men. Haldir held her half an arms length away and looked down into her glistening blue eyes.
He took a deep breath. "Andave inye harya yetanna vanesselya."(Long years I have looked upon your beauty) He whispered, his hand coming up to caress her cheek. "Rucinnya ahyanello hinamma" (My feelings changed from our childhood)
"Analya?" (Yours too) She whispered, turning slightly away with a blush.
"Inye melme elye"(I love you) He whispered, lowering his lips to hers in a passionate kiss. The ice cold water around them seemed to warm as they were drawn into the kiss, neither ever wanting to stop. Haldir's fingers slipped through her wet tresses as he ran his hand up her back.
"Haldir!" And angry voice yelled from below the arch that marked the entrance to the healing pools.
They jerked away from each other, Lord Celeborn was standing stiffly beneath the arch of green vines. A look of rage was upon his face as none had ever seen before. Haldir slid away from her to the other side of the pool, a look of fear upon his face.
"Get out of the pool, Haldir." Celeborn said angrily.
"Ada! I began it." Naltariel cried, pushing away from the wall to stand beside Haldir.
"No she didn't!" Haldir argued, giving her a stern look and crawling out of the ice cold water. Naltariel quickly followed him out.
Celeborn's jaw was clamped shut in anger and they could see he was grounding his teeth. "Since you both lay claim to this, you will both come to my council. You have one hour to make yourselves acceptable." He turned on his heel and angrily stormed back down the walkway. Once out of view and hearing range Haldir angrily turned to her.
"What are you thinking? It helps you none to get yourself into trouble!" He said angrily.
"And what am I to do? Leave you to stand on your own?" She demanded stubbornly.
Haldir sighed and took her arm, escorting her to her quarters to change into dryer clothes. They parted with a quick kiss.
AN: Okay, um I kinda screwed up in here and got the book and the movie screwed. So yeah, if it doesn't sound like it's from the book it's from the movie. Or vice versa. :D
The plan went well enough, though he had lost two of his men. None of the Orcs had survived. Marik had returned an hour before the sun rose and they had rode some distance away to have the breakfast and a short rest.
As it was, it was past eleven when they finally departed again, riding hard to the North in hopes of reaching the outskirts of Lorien by nightfall then entering the cursed wood in the morning light after a good nights rest.
"Riders of Rohan! What news from the Mark?" A loud voice called from behind them. With a silent signal they turned, heading back to the callers.
His men silently circled the three, their spears pointed towards them. "Who are you, and what are you doing in this land?" He demanded. They were warriors and could be working for the foul Saruman who had taken over his uncles mind.
"I am called Strider," The Man answered. "I came out of the North. I am hunting Orcs."
Eomer dismounted his stallion, handing the Elf-maid to Marik and his spear to Hattim. He drew his sword and stood face to face with the Man who called himself Strider.
"At first I thought you yourselves to be Orcs" He said; "but now I see that is not so. Indeed you know little of Orcs, if you go hunting them in this fashion. They were swift and well-armed, and they were many. You would have changed from hunters to prey, if ever you had overtaken them. But there is something strange about you, Strider." He said, looking sternly at the Man for a moment. "That is not name for a Man that you give. And strange too is your garb. Have you sprung out of the gras? How did you escape our sight? Are you elvish folk?" He asked with some hope.
"No," Said Strider. "One only of us in an Elf, Legolas from the Woodland Realm in distant Mirkwood. But we have passed through Lothlorien, and the gifts and favor of the Lady go with us."
"Then there is a Lady in the Golden Wood, as old tales tell!" He said, for he had doubted that Elves truly did roam those woods. "Few escape her nets, they say. These are strange days! But if you have her favor, then you also are net-weavers and sorcerers, maybe." He turned his eyes upon the Elf and Dwarve of the party, eying them coldly. "Why do you not speak, silent ones?"
The Dwarve rose up, looking indignantly at the him. "Give me your name, horse-master, and I will give you mine, and more besides." He said, his hands gripping his axe.
"As for that, the stranger should declare himself first. Yet I am named Eomer son of Eomund, and am the Third Marshal of Riddermark." Eomer said.
"Then Eomer son of Eomund, Third Marshal of Riddermark, let Gimli the Dwarf Gloin's son warn you against foolish words. You speak evil of that which is fair beyond the reach of your thought, and only little wit can excuse you." The Dwarve said haughtily.
Anger swept through Eomer at the insolence of the Dwarve, the men behind him murmured just as angry, their spears closing in on the three. "I would cut off your head, beard and all, Master Dwarf, if it stood but a little higher from the ground." He said angrily, his thoughts going back to the beauty of the elf-maid in Mariks arms.
"He stands not alone." The Elf said quickly, his bow already notched with an arrow. "You would die before your stroke fell."
"Your Dwarve knows nothing in the measure of beauty." Eomer said angrily. "There can be none more fair than the elf-maid in our company!"
"So show her then!" Gimli challenged, the Elf had still not yet put his arrow back in his quiver. "Not with weapons drawn." Eomer said quickly. "She has already drawn injury unto herself, I would not risk it again. Not with such quick tempered comrades."
Legolas reluctantly quivered his arrow and shouldered his bow in Elven fashion. Eomer whistled quickly and a big brown horse with a dark haired Man upon it stepped forward. In the Mans arms there lie the elf- maid.
The Elf gave a cry and paled, pushing through the spears of the Men surrounding him to Marik's side. He gently took the elf-maid from Mariks arms, kneeling lightly on the ground. He looked over her, searching for any other injury than the one visible on her temple.
"You will pay dearly for the harm you have caused her, horse-master." Legolas hissed. "You have captured the blood of the Lord and Lady of the Golden Wood. This is Naltariel, their only child." His friendship with the princess of Lorien was little known, but Strider knew her as well. If these Men meant harm to her he knew he would have one ally to stand with him against the tide.
"Harm I have caused her? Harm I have caused her indeed! Without us she would have been dead. A score of Orcs were pursuing her, she was weaponless and exhausted! Her horse stumbled on the river bed and tossed her across the water. She would not have survived without our aid!" Eomer snapped.
Legolas glared at him, obviously not believing the tale. "Legolas, how does she fare?" Strider asked in concern. He had grown up with the presence of Naltariel in Rivendell when he was a child.
"Well enough for the moment, but not healthy. She fades." The Elf replied bitterly.
"Who are you truly? And whom do you serve?" Eomer demanded from Strider.
"I serve no Man" The Man threw back his cloak. He gripped the hilt of his sword and it glittered bright as a flame as he swept the blade from it's sheath. "Elendil!" He cried. "I am Aragorn son of Arathorn, and am called Elessar, the Elfstone, Dunadan, the heir of Isildur Elendil's son of Gondor. Here is the sword that was Broken and is forged again!"
Eomer stared at the Man in awe, Isildur's heir! The lost King of Gondor! Songs and legends had spoken for ages of the return of the line of Elendil to the thrown of Gondor. "Tell me, lord, what brings you here? And what was the meaning of the dark words? Long has Boromir son of Denethor been gone seeking an answer, and the horse that we lent him came back riderless. What doom do you bring out of the North?"
"The doom of choice," said Aragorn. "You may say this to Theoden son of Thengel: open war lies before him, with Sauron or against him. But of these great matters we will speak later. If chance allows, I will come myself to the king. Now I am in great need, and I ask for help, or at least for tidings. You heard that we are pursuing an orc-host that carried off our friends. What can you tell us?"
"That you need not pursue them further," Eomer said regretfully, for surely it would have been the same host as they had destroyed in the night. "The Orcs are destroyed."
"And our friends?" Aragorn asked.
"We found none but Orcs." Eomer said.
"Did you search the slain?" Aragorn demanded. "Were there no bodies other than those of orc-kind? They would be small, only children in your eyes, unshod but clad in grey."
"There were no dwarves nor children. We counted all the slain and despoiled them, and then we piled the carcases and burned them, as is our custom. The ashes are smoking still." He answered.
"We do not speak of dwarves or children," said Gimli. "Our friends were hobbits."
"I know not of hobbits, but I give you my word there were none but Orcs in that host." Eomer gave a short whistle and two horses stepped forward. "This is Arod and Hasufel, may they bear you to better fortune than their previous masters."
"That's it?" Legolas demanded. "What of Lady Naltariel?"
"We are riding North to the woods of Lorien to return her to her home." Eomer answered. "The smoke can still be seen to the South if you wish still to search for your friends. I would not hope for too much though."
Eomer lifted Naltariel from Legolas' arms and back onto the back of his horse, then mounted behind her. They watched in wonder as the Elf took the saddle and rein from Arod, then leapt lightly up. Arod was willing and tame beneath him, moving here and there with a spoken word of elvish. The Dwarf reluctantly was lifted up onto the horse behind the Elf, as everyone knew Dwarves did not ride horses. When finally up, Gimli clutched tight to the back of the Elf.
Aragorn lightly mounted Hasufel then rode to the side of Eomer. "When you arrive at the edge of the wood, look for an Elf named Haldir, he is a border guard. Give him this," He said, pulling the leaf at his throat that held his cloak closed off and handed it to Eomer. "He will know it has come from us."
The two horses turned and galloped away towards the South, towards the smoke coming from the Orc carcases. Eomer sighed and tucked the pin into his pocket so at not to lose it. Then he looked down at the elf-maid in his arms. Naltariel, he thought, looking down upon her features. The name was near as beautiful as was she.
"Come on. We may still reach the eaves of the forest before nightfall." Eomer called, leading his men once more into a quick gallop to the North. He drew his cloak around Naltariel to hide her from hostile view.
They made it to the eaves of Lorien with no more incidents to note of. The forest loomed ahead of them, a feeling of foreboding fell over Eomer's heart. They had reached the forest an hour or two before they had expected, for none had ventured this far North.
"What now, Lord? Do we venture into the wood or wait until morning?" Marik asked at his side.
Eomer had just been pondering that question himself. He looked down at the elf-maid in his arms, she did not look well. "We will venture into the woods a bit. We are to look for an Elf named Haldir."
The men slowly ventured into the woods, riding in rows of three. They did not go far into the woods, barely twenty minutes when they suddenly found themselves surrounded with arrows.
"Who are you? What are you doing in this wood?" A voice demanded harshly from Eomer's left. He turned and saw a stern faced but fair haired Elf standing with his arrow aimed straight at his throat.
"Peace! We come in peace!" Eomer cried. "I am Eomer of Rohan. A lady of this wood ventured into our realm and were are here to return her. She has been pursued by a score of Orcs yet that was not what wounded her. Her horse threw her across a small river. We slew the Orcs but when we found her she was already injured. We are supposed to find an Elf by the name of Haldir, or so Aragorn son of Arathorn told us."
"Then indeed you have come to the right part of the woods," The Elf said, "I am Haldir. Where is the woman, I fear it may be Lady Naltariel who went missing after her morning ride four days ago."
"So the Elf, Legolas, said it was." Eomer said regretfully as he drew his cape away so she could be seen. He heard the arrows around him grow tighter. "I did not wound her! But aided her as best I know how! I have a pin given to me by Lord Aragorn, who also goes by the name of Strider, it is said to vouch my tale."
"Show me this pin, though I have little doubt of your tale now. Her wound was obviously not made by any weapon." Haldir said, cautiously stepping towards the Man. Eomer reached into his pocket and withdrew the pin, handing it to the Elf.
Haldir hardly looked at it before handing it back. "It is of the pins Lady Galadriel gave Aragorn's company."
Eomer looked down as the elf-maid shifted uncomfortably in his arms, the familiar whispering trees awaking her slightly. Her eyes came slightly open and she looked around. "Haldir?" She asked in confusion.
"I am here, my love." Haldir said soothingly, taking Naltariel from Eomer's arms. Eomer stiffened slightly at the adornment but he did not know why. "Elye nar varna si."(You are safe now) Haldir let loose a sharp whistle and a few moments a horse rode to him.
He lifted her up onto the horse then jumped up behind her. "Follow me." Haldir said quickly to the Men behind him, sending silent orders to the other Elves.
The Riders of Rohan rode cautiously behind Eomer, still not trusting the hospitality of the Elves. They rode in silence, Haldir rode before them speaking soft words to Naltariel as they went.
"Eomer of Rohan, you and I will ride ahead. They will want to speak with you before your army arrives." Haldir said. Then he spoke some elvish to an Elf nearby and they galloped on ahead.
A while later they game upon the city, it glittered brightly in the setting sun and Eomer was overcome with awe. Never before had he seen a place of such beauty, not even the White City of Minas Tirith compared with the beauty of Lorien.
Haldir dismounted his stallion and lifted Naltariel into his arms. Eomer followed suit and they soon stood side by side before a low stair leading into one of the great houses of Lorien. A bright light it seemed to emanate from behind two Elves that walked towards them down the stairs. Eomer lowered his eyes in reverence as they stood before him, their beauty great.
Eomer considered the words of Gimli the Dwarve, but could not admit that the Lady of the Woods beauty was greater than her daughters. It was more mature but that did not appeal to him as much as the youth of Naltariel.
"Much sleep we have lost worrying over the fate of Naltariel. Even my own wisdom could not foresee her future." The Lady said, indeed she looked very similar to her daughter, the same bright blue eyes and long flowing blonde hair in waves down her back.
"Injury has come to her though, it seems." The Lord said, his grey eyes piecing Eomer as though a deer caught in the sights of an arrow.
"My Lord, he has met with Aragorn upon his travels and he believed his tale. She was hunted by Orcs and in her haste Laurea stumbled and threw her across a small river. This Man, Eomer of Rohan, has tended to her wounds as best he knows how and has returned her to us now." Haldir said indifferently. "If indeed this is truth, we owe you, Eomer son of Eomund of Rohan, very much." The Lady said slowly, stepping towards him.
Eomer bowed to her. "Any other would do the same as I in the same circumstances." He said humbly.
"If you think that, you are a fool." The Lord said. "Her beauty is rare. Men of less valor would have taken her as their own, condemning her to a life I dare not think of. I name you Elf-friend, Eomer son of Eomund."
"And we welcome you and your Men to rest this night in our hospitality." The Lady said. "Lord Celeborn and I, Lady Galadriel welcome you to the Golden Wood whenever you feel the need." The Lady said. "Haldir, take Naltariel to the healing pools."
Haldir bowed slightly then carried the elf-maid away on a path leading to the left of where Eomer stood. Eomer was led off to the right by another elf-maid, and though by the standards of Men she was beyond fair, it was no comparison to the beauty of Lady Naltariel.
Naltariel opened her eyes slowly, the ice cold water around her was seeping life back into her veins. She looked up into the tender face of Haldir, holding her so her head was above the water.
"Haldir?" She whispered. He nodded slightly and she pulled herself into his arms, hugging him tightly. "I want you to teach me everything."
"Everything?" Haldir asked confused.
"Bow, sword, and knife. You wield all three, I want to learn." She said with stubbornly.
"Naltariel, you are not a warrior. You are a maiden." Haldir said softly.
"And how far did that get me? Had it not been for the Vala that came down to me I would have been slain!" She exclaimed.
"Vala?" Haldir asked. "Describe him to me."
"Well . . . he had deep brown eyes and shoulder length brown hair. Muscular. Strong yet kind. He saved me." She said slowly.
"Naltariel, that was no Vala. That was a Man." Haldir said cautiously.
She pushed away from him, as though he were the Man they had spoken of. Long years had Men been known to take Elven maidens for their own pleasure. It was the downfall of their beauty, that all would wish to possess.
"No!" She cried. "That cannot be!" She looked down across her body but could find no wounds left to convict the Man.
"Hush hush, Naltariel. You were lucky. I do not believe he injured you. You were found by one of the few noble Men left." Haldir said softly as he waded over to her and drew her back into his arms, whispering words of comfort to her. "He did not hurt you. If he had, he would not have made it as far as to the Lord and Lady."
She shuddered and held tighter to Haldir, she had been warned since a child not to trust the likes of Men. Haldir held her half an arms length away and looked down into her glistening blue eyes.
He took a deep breath. "Andave inye harya yetanna vanesselya."(Long years I have looked upon your beauty) He whispered, his hand coming up to caress her cheek. "Rucinnya ahyanello hinamma" (My feelings changed from our childhood)
"Analya?" (Yours too) She whispered, turning slightly away with a blush.
"Inye melme elye"(I love you) He whispered, lowering his lips to hers in a passionate kiss. The ice cold water around them seemed to warm as they were drawn into the kiss, neither ever wanting to stop. Haldir's fingers slipped through her wet tresses as he ran his hand up her back.
"Haldir!" And angry voice yelled from below the arch that marked the entrance to the healing pools.
They jerked away from each other, Lord Celeborn was standing stiffly beneath the arch of green vines. A look of rage was upon his face as none had ever seen before. Haldir slid away from her to the other side of the pool, a look of fear upon his face.
"Get out of the pool, Haldir." Celeborn said angrily.
"Ada! I began it." Naltariel cried, pushing away from the wall to stand beside Haldir.
"No she didn't!" Haldir argued, giving her a stern look and crawling out of the ice cold water. Naltariel quickly followed him out.
Celeborn's jaw was clamped shut in anger and they could see he was grounding his teeth. "Since you both lay claim to this, you will both come to my council. You have one hour to make yourselves acceptable." He turned on his heel and angrily stormed back down the walkway. Once out of view and hearing range Haldir angrily turned to her.
"What are you thinking? It helps you none to get yourself into trouble!" He said angrily.
"And what am I to do? Leave you to stand on your own?" She demanded stubbornly.
Haldir sighed and took her arm, escorting her to her quarters to change into dryer clothes. They parted with a quick kiss.