Boromir, Thou Shall Live
By Priscilla Stafford
Author's Note: I can't believe, I've beaten the recorded again! Chapter 12 is the longest chapter written so far, surpassing Chapter 11! I hope you're all pleased!
As you guessed from the title of this chapter, this is the chapter before the battle of Helm's Deep. This chapter is separated into four chapter, for four different characters. Enjoy!
Many reviewers appreciate the fact that I included Gwaihir in the last chapter! Thank you, thank you, thank you for mentioning that! Special thanks to all my reviewers are at the bottom of the chapter as usual!
Chapter Twelve: Evening Approaches
Haldir looked back over his shoulder, making sure that all the Elves were keeping up. He had good reason to keep up a good pace, the weather was grim and all of his instincts told him that there would be rain that night
The Elf kept his eyes forward, his mind somewhere else. He could hardly believe it was only yesterday that he had left Lothlorien. The Elves with their swift feet and keen sense of direction had traveled nonstop, neither stopping for rest or food. Haldir knew they had to be at Helm's Deep before the night had passed or it would be too late.
Haldir's mind wandered as it usually did every moment of silence. The Elves did not speak much, they did not waste breathe or time with words. So Haldir would always retreat into the comfort of his mind with the memories of only the day before.
Isilme, lovely Isilme. He had spoken truthfully when he had told her that she haunted her dreams. Yet now, not only did she haunt his dreams, she entered his head at all times. Isilme, with the radiant eyes.
He still could not believe he had been a fool so long to deny his true feelings for her. Now that his love for her was out in the open, he could not stop thinking of her. Of how it would be when he returned. Returning home would never be the same, for from now on, she would be waiting, for him and only him.
Maybe it was folly for having spoken to her before his departure. Because now his thoughts swirled around her entire being. And yet, Haldir knew that because of her, he would fight like he had never fought before, swifter, stronger, and more deadly.
For now he had one more reason to come home. Not just to return home to the beauty of Lorien, or to see once more his family who he loved. Yes, he had one more reason to return home, and this reason surpassed all the others for it was the most important reason of all. To go home to his love.
His hand wandered to absently pat an object underneath his chest plate. Around his neck was the necklace and pendant given to him by Isilme. Sweet Isilme.
But there was one other object which he kept safe behind his armor for protection. He had tied a small pouch around his neck. Inside the pouch was a ring, one which he treasured dearly.
The ring had been a gift to him from Lord Celeborn and Lady Galadriel. It had been presented to him so many years ago when he had left the woods of Lothlorien to got to battle. The ring's design was of three silver vines interwoven together with niphredil, the white flowers which grew in abundance in Lorien, delicately placed around the ring.
It had become a habit for Haldir to place the ring on his little finger whenever he left Lothlorien. It would always in a way bind him to his home. It had kept him safe for all of his life, an omen of peace and hope of returning.
Yet now, he did not wear it for the simple reason that he knew what he wished to do with it now. He wished not to have it bind him to Lothlorien. Instead, he wanted to place it on Isilme's finger, to bind him to her for all eternity.
Haldir smiled through the haze of the grey weather. With an image of Isilme firmly planted in his mind, he quickened his pace, trusting the others to keep up.
**********
Eowyn stared out of the window of her room, thoughts swirling around her head. The sun had yet to set but the sky was grey and already the weather was dark and cloudy. Eowyn's mood matched the weather perfectly.
She was standing as still as if she was made from stone, her shoulders thrown back in a stiff manner and her chin raised up in what may have been a defiant gesture. Even her clothes were stone gray in color, the material finely woven to keep off the evening chill.
Her hands were placed on the window sill, still and unmoving as the rest of her body.
The door opened to her room yet Eowyn did not acknowledge the entering of whoever it was. The servant she knew had come to bring her something warm to drink. The servant moved quietly across the room to place a tray on a corner table then just as silently, left the room. No words were spoken.
Still, the lady did not move. She was too absorbed in her thoughts. Thoughts which did nothing to ease her heart.
Eowyn still felt confused over her feelings for the mysterious Aragorn. She remembered the event which still caused her great unease, the event which had happened before the men had left for Helm's Deep.
She had brought a cup filled with wine to the departing men. She had first given the cup to the King of Rohan who had taken a sip. One by one she proffered the cup to the other guests.
When she stood before Aragorn she had paused, for she saw him smile at her. His smile took her breath away, for throughout every moment she had been with him, not once had he really looked in her eyes and smiled. But at that time, he had taken the cup with a smile upon his lips.
Their hands had met when he took the cup and Eowyn had felt a shiver course through her from his touch though she tried to hide it. Suddenly, Eowyn had strangely felt tears form in her eyes but did not let them fall. Why did she act so in front of Aragorn? Maybe she was afraid, afraid she would lose him.
With a tremble in her voice, she had said softly, only for his ears, "Hail Aragorn son of Arathorn!"
He too returned the greeting. "Hail Lady of Rohan!" But Eowyn's heart was torn in two when she saw that his face had gotten troubled and he smiled no more.
At the memory of his handsome face troubled with worry lines, Eowyn bowed her head. But she did not bow her head in shame, but in total frustration. Aragorn was the epitome of frustration to her, and she hated that feeling. She hated... she hated... nothing and everything! How can one man give her so much confusion?
She knew what she wanted. She wanted him to respect her, not pity her. Yes, it must be pity he saw in her. Pity for her loneliness. But she didn't want pity.
Instead, she wanted, needed to have someone to lean on. Someone to love, and someone to love her. For years her Uncle Theoden had slowly become under the influence of Wormtongue. And all through those years, Eomer and even her cousin Theodred had struggled to take care of Rohan, so that Saruman would not overrun the country with his minions. And throughout those years, never had Eowyn felt more alone.
Alone she had taken care of her uncle, slowly watching him waste away. She had never felt so much despair. Then Theodred had been taken away. Sweet, sweet Theodred! She had loved him as much as she had loved her own brother. Then that evil, wretched Wormtongue had banished Eomer from Rohan! It was only the fact of her Uncle Theoden could she continue her life full of depression and fear.
Then Gandalf had come, with Aragorn and his friends. From that moment, she felt that maybe, just maybe, everything would be all right. After all, Aragorn was the heir of Isildur, the future king of all Middle Earth. Shouldn't everything be all right.
Yet, everything was not all right. Theodred was still dead, her brother could not be found, the land of Rohan was still in danger, and Uncle Theoden had left for battle. But worst of all, it was the fact that she was a woman shunned and rejected by one man she had she could be happy with.
Eowyn shuddered as she felt a cold chill run through her back. She knew she had to sleep, for these thoughts were not healthy when one was alone. With firm steps she walked towards the corner table where the tray had been laid out for her.
On the center of the tray was a cup of hot herbal tea. Eowyn had for years now taken to drinking the tea each and every night before retiring for bed. It helped to soothe her depressed mind, warming her thoughts and body before sleeping. But sometimes the tea still did nothing to help her, at times sleep still eluding her grasp. Just like tonight.
Eowyn went to sit on the bed, only warming her hands on the warm tea. She did not drink it though. She turned was again into her thoughts.
Looking down into the tea, anger coursed through her veins as though her blood was as hot as the water itself. Anger at herself that she was one so weak she had to rely on this drink to soothe her soul.
Maybe Aragorn had reason to reject her. Weak she was for her heart quaked with fear at the growing darkness of night.
In a sudden burst of fury, Eowyn threw the cup down, shattering it against the wall, the contents spilling out over the carpet. In irritation for her behavior, she jumped up from the bed and ran to her chest. Throwing the cover open, she reached for her sword.
With a cry of strength she drew out her sword and threw the scabbard against the wall. She went through a series of warm-up exercises, swinging her sword this way and that.
Every second her frustration grew, and every moment her moves became more violent. Everything was a haze to her and she realized that she was sweating freely, the sweat blurring her sight.
She knew not how long she parried and thrust her sword, how long she panted from want of air. Her movements became clumsy and finally, with an erratic swing, the sword flew from her grasp onto the ground.
Gasping for air, Eowyn fell to her knees as the struggled for breath. A drop of sweat trickled down her cheek. Then another drop fell, and another until Eowyn realized they were tears. The tears began to drop freely from her eyes and she couldn't stop them.
Eowyn knew why she cried. She cried because she had no one to lean on, no one to love her, and just simply, no one. She was all alone and the thought was what tormented her every day and especially every night, all through the night.
With that thought, Eowyn brought her hands up to her face and openly cried into the emptiness of the night. But she knew, that even if morning came, the emptiness wouldn't disappear.
**********
"That is no orc horn."
Aragorn agreed with Legolas's observation and ran out of the room leaving Gimli still clad in the oversized mail shirt.
They were now at Helm's Deep and the darkness of night already covered the land. As Aragorn raced through the halls, he noted the old men and young boys preparing for battle. He gritted his teeth that this battle would be a battle between a few hundred farmers and lads against thousands of seasoned warriors, creatures of the dark.
'Well, they will not fight alone,' Aragorn thought with grim determination. He was pleased that Legolas had come to just moments earlier. He did not want any dissension between himself and one his good friends, and he knew that he felt the same despair which Legolas felt.
But now, leaning over one of the wall of Helm's Deep, Aragorn saw something that caused him to open his mouth in shock. For inside the walls were about two hundred Lothlorien Elf warriors, standing at battle attention.
Aragorn's expression of shock turned to one of pure happiness as he saw who lead the Elves. Haldir of Lothlorien was now placing a bow before the King of Rohan, his head slightly bowed. As Aragorn continued running to meet the Elf, he heard Haldir speak clearly through the stillness of the night.
"I bring word from the Lord and Lady of Lothlorien. An alliance once existed between Elves and Men. Long ago we fought, and died together." Aragorn saw that Haldir had caught sight of him. Haldir nodded his head in greeting and continued, "We come to honor that allegiance."
The heir of Isildur did not stop until he stood right in front of the Elf. Overcome with feeling, Aragorn brought his arms around Haldir in a tight embrace. Aragorn felt the Elf stiffen then relax, returning the embrace.
Aragorn pulled back. "You are most welcome."
Haldir nodded his head once more, a gesture full of understanding. In that moment, all the Elf warriors as if of one mind turned their heads, did a left face in perfect synchronization, and stood at attention.
Haldir himself turned to face King Theoden. "We are proud to fight alongside men once more."
Aragorn at those words looked over at Legolas and saw the Elf standing just behind Haldir. Legolas was too standing at attention, drawing himself to his full height. And in his eyes, Aragorn saw pride. Aragorn smiled for he felt happy for the Elf. The man knew that Legolas had of late been dispirited of the fact that none of his kind seemed to show much assistance to the men of Middle Earth. And with good reason, too. All of Elf kind had to protect their borders from the same Evil.
Yet now looking at Legolas, Aragorn saw that the other seemed at peace. And for that he was thankful for.
The battle for Helm's Deep will begin soon. And the men of Rohan will not fight alone.
**********
Eomer stared glumly into the fire burning before him. How helpless he felt, and he did not like the feeling.
It was now one week since his banishment from Rohan. In the memory of that day, Eomer clenched his hands into tight fists. How he hated Wormtongue for what that traitor had done to Rohan. Rohan was now so obviously in the grasp of Saruman, and Eomer could do nothing to stop it.
Or so he thought. He hoped in vain that there was still a chance that this country he loved so dearly could be saved. That was the reason for not leaving Rohan entirely. Even now, he and his army of a few hundred men stayed on the western shores of the Entwash. He was far enough away from Edoras that he doubted Wormtongue would send out what few soldiers that were left. And even if he and his men were pursued, Eomer doubted very much that they would be pursued further than the boundaries by the river Entwash. So here Eomer would wait, wait for his chance.
A few days before, he and his men had camped here. Then immediately, Eomer had dispatched seven riders to different parts of Rohan, hoping to bring back any news of the country. So far, none had returned and Eomer feared for their safety. Besides the countless small bands of Uruk-Hais scoring the lands, Wormtongue also had his spies scattered about.
So here Eomer would stay, stay until the chance came to him to return to his uncle. And to his sister.
At the thought of Eowyn, Eomer winced. What did she think of him now? Did she deem him a coward for leaving? No, he thought, she would never think that. She understood that his banishment had been given to him cruelly by that wretched worm who dared called himself an advisor. Eomer would like nothing more than to cut that traitor's tongue out, thus ridding the land of his lies and treachery.
But, what to do now? Eomer was a warrior, not a politician. He knew that now he could not go to Gondor for help. 'Gondor,' he scoffed. Eomer knew that Gondor had her own troubles with the growing strength of Mordor. No, Rohan must protect her own land, though it was hard at times to distinguish friend from foe.
Eomer heard a murmur go through the camp, his men stirring from their sleep. The sister-son of the King got up, wondering what the disturbance was. A sentry ran towards him and came to salute Eomer. "I'm sorry to disturb you my lord, but we have caught sight of a man on horseback approaching from the north."
Eomer knew without a doubt that the man couldn't miss the fires from their campsite. "Tell them men to be on their guard, I shall handle this." The sentry left after saluting in respect.
Taking his sword but leaving his helmet, Eomer went to the northern side of the camp and along with his other men watched the horseman approach.
The man on horse was coming straight towards them at a leisurely walk. Eomer cast his eyes around but saw no one else. With a quick whisper, he sent two of his men to silently leave the camp and search the area for any other intruders.
The stranger finally stopped when he reached the perimeter of the camp. Eomer, knowing that all of his archers were arming their bows in case of any danger, stood up and approached the horseman. "Who are you that you should ride up so casually to our encampment."
The other only turned his head this way and that, staying silent. Eomer took the time to study the man, for man he appeared to be. He wore a long, dark cloak, his head covered by the hood. Glancing at the man's boots, he saw that it was well used, as if the man had been on a very long journey. He had come to them from the north, perhaps he was one of those rangers from the North who wandered the lands. Yes, he must be so. Eomer strained to glance upon the face but could only distinguish a dark beard on the man's chin.
Eomer grew frustrated as the silence lengthened. Finally, he spoke with a touch of anger. "Speak quickly, for every second of your silence only gives evidence that you are foe, not friend."
The stranger raised both hands in a gesture saying that he carried no weapon in his hands. "Peace, man of Rohan. I know of the scouts you sent to check the perimeter. I only wait for them to return, so they will confirm that I am alone. Only then I know you will not trust whether I am friend or foe. In either case, your men have returned."
At that exact moment, Eomer's two men materialized from the darkness. Seeing their expressions, Eomer only pondered the strange behavior of this man, for strange behavior it was. How could this man have so much confidence, unless he really intended no harm? Or was he trying to ensnare them in a trap. He spoke plainly. "Stranger, I urge you to explain yourself."
"Once again, I say peace, man of Rohan. All will be explained to you. I only ask that you let me speak with Eomer, sister-son of Theoden."
"Once again, I say explain yourself, for I am Eomer."
The man chuckled deep from his throat. "Then I am very pleased. I ask that I be allowed to speak to you in private, for what I wish to say are for your ears alone."
Eomer pursed his lips. Indecision kept him from inviting the man into the camp. Yet, he had to admit that the man did not appear to be dangerous. The fact that the man was so calm though might be cause to worry of the man's intentions.
But Eomer too could play the confidence game. "Then I invite you to my fire. Do not worry for you horse, we men of Rohan know how to care for our horses."
The stranger nodded and lightly got off his horse. Immediately, while one of Eomer's men went to take the horse, another went to check the stranger for any weapons. The hooded figure shook off the other's hands. He pulled back one side of his robe to reveal a sword. "A sword I carry. What say you, Eomer?"
"A sword you may carry, but I hope you won't be affronted if I too keep my sword at hand." The stranger only chuckled then went to stand in front of Eomer. Eomer was a little displeased to see that hooded man was slightly taller than himself. So drawing himself to his full height, Eomer motioned for the other to follow him.
Soon the two were settled comfortably on either side of Eomer's campfire. Eomer had ordered his men to stay out of earshot but within sight in case of trouble. But even when the precautions were made, the stranger did not speak, only sat still, watching Eomer under hooded eyes.
Eomer sat with his sword lain across his knees, a reminder that the other was only a guest. Finally the stranger spoke. "I come to you, Eomer, with grim news."
"Speak quickly, I say to you. My patience wears thin. I hope sincerely that you have something important to say."
"Then speak quickly I will. Rohan is on the brink of being taken over by Saruman."
Eomer laughed without humor. "I have known this for long. Say something new for you begin to lose interest."
Eomer could see a humorless smile play on the features of the face which were visible from the light of the fire. "Then do you know this? Isengard has been emptied, its armies ready to destroy all free men of Rohan. Even now, what remains of Rohan's soldiers are preparing to keep a defense at Helm's Deep."
Immediately, Eomer leaned forward in interest. "This is indeed interesting. Who is it that inspired the Rohirrim, and now leads them at Hornburg."
"King Theoden, who else."
Eomer stood up in anger, his hand on the hilt of his sword. "Now I know you speak lies! For I know the condition of King Theoden and his health permits him to lead his men!"
The stranger too had stood up with some anger. "Do not call me a liar for you know me not! I know not of his health, but one thing I do know! Aragorn son of Arathorn, Legolas the Prince of Mirkwood, and Gimli son of Gloin are now at his side!"
He tried to speak more but Eomer silenced him. In shock he said, "You know of the man, Elf, and Dwarf who travel together?"
"I see you know of them."
"Maybe he does speak the truth," Eomer said out loud, but mostly to himself. "What else do you know?"
"The Rohirrim do not stand a chance against tens of thousands."
Eomer's jaw dropped. "There is no army so big!"
"Yet march they do, towards Helm's Deep."
The man of Rohan stared hard into the other's face. All of his warrior instincts told him to not listen, that it was surely a lie to trap him. To bring him back to Edoras to await execution from Wormtongue. Yet, all of his being, his heart, told him to trust him. But why? There was nothing remarkable about this man! He had still not even gazed into his face!
Eomer struggled with himself to decide. To believe, or not to believe? I hard question to answer.
The stranger seemed to sense his inner struggle. The man hesitated, then said, "If you are finding it hard to trust in me, then there is one thing I can do to make you believe me."
Narrowing his eyes, Eomer peered into the hooded face. "What is that one thing."
More hesitation. Then, "I will go with you to Helm's Deep. If it is a lie, my life is forfeit to you. If I speak truth, then I am just one more soldier to aide in your fight against Saruman's armies."
Well, Eomer certainly admired this man. He appeared honest, maybe his honesty was not in jest. Finally, he spoke with determination. "In either case, Rohan shall not fall, not while Eomer, sister-son of Theoden still lives."
The other's shoulders dropped as if in relief. "Then you will go to their aide?"
"Aye, we leave for Helm's Deep. Now, at this very minute." Eomer gestured for one of his men to come. In urgent tones, he told his guard to summon everyone to awake from their slumber, for they will ride for Helm's Deep.
As soon as the man left, Eomer turned to prepare the abandoning of the camp. But he stopped as he caught sight of the stranger, for he had almost forgotten about him. The figure was now sitting, staring into the fire.
Eomer went over to place his hand on the stranger's shoulder but the other did not even stir. "I hope you speak the truth, stranger."
"I do."
"Then I must have your name, for I cannot call you 'stranger' forever."
Eomer felt as if he had said something wrong for the man tensed. After a few moments, the man finally relaxed and stared up into Eomer's face. And for the first time, Eomer could see that the stranger's eyes were greenish- grey in color.
"You may call me Lavlaisi."
**********
Author's Note: DUM DU DUM! So, was that a shocker ender for this chapter? I really hope it was a good plot twist! I've always wanted to do a really good one, please tell me if it came out ok! Hee hee! Anyway, the next chapter will explain a bit more about why 'Lavlaisi' is with Eomer.
I hope you don't mind the change I did, saying that Haldir brings word from 'the Lord and Lady of Lothlorien'. I still can't understand why in the movies it says that the Elves were sent from Elrond! I mean, am I the only one that thinks that's a bit strange?
Honest to goodness, Eowyn's part was the hardest to write. I hope you like my characterization. I really wanted to delve more into Eowyn's loneliness and frustrations since the movies and sometimes the books don't really explore that. I hope it comes out all right.
Special thanks to:
*Diadora* ~ I really hope you like this chapter! Thanks for always e- mailing, I'll always try to write you back as soon as possible, and include a special thank you in my chapters. So, what do you think, were shocked with the ending? ^_^ About whether I kill Haldir or not... it's still a secret of mine! Glad you liked Windlord! Oh, I've read "Captain, My Captain" too! Isn't that a fantastic story? What do you thinkg, should Hethlin marry Imrahil or Elrohir? In my humble opinion, I simply LOVE Elrohir! No offense to Imrahil but he's a bit too old I think....
*Maria* ~ So, still guessing whether I'm going to save Haldir, huh? Well, don't worry, the battle of Helm's Deep will be coming up soon. All your questions will be answered!
*BoromirDefender* ~ Thanks for mentioning Gwaihir! The Denethor and Boromir meeting (although it'll be coming out later than you would have expected because of the surprise twist to this chapter!) is definitely going to be a challenge! But because of all the endless support from my wonderful family of reviewers, I feel as if there's nothing I can't do! Hee hee!
*Melodist* ~ Hmmm... technically I'm still a 'young'un' so I'll probably have to wait to see Lady Chatterley. ^_~ Anyway, thanks for liking the fact that I put Gwaihir into the story! Hope you like this chapter!
*you-know-who* ~ Well, here's another LONG chapter. Hope you enjoy it! I'm sure you'll find the ending surprising.
*bookwrym* ~ Welcome to my family of reviewers! Thanks for the recommendations on the Sharpe series. I'll definitely try to pick of "Sharpe's Eagles" since that's the next in the series. I'm really glad you're enjoying the story, hope you like this new updated chapter!
*~C~ and Ice50* ~ Hi, guys! I TOTALLY understand what you mean about sisters. I have one older sister, she's not exactly 'evil' but... well, you get the idea. Hee hee! *wink!* Besides, friends are the best of the best! Sorry that I spoiled your ideas about Boromir going to Minas Tirith! I decided to put a little plot twist. Hope it's ok with you guys! Once again, thanks for the reviews!
*Aelimir* ~ Glad you like Gwaihir! Yes, an image of seeing Boromir talking with an Eagle is VERY cool! Majestic vs. Kakkoi! Hee hee! I hope you find this chapter enjoyable! Thanks for your reviewage!
*iwantboromir* ~ YAY! I nice long review from one of my most faithful reviewers! Oooh, a 50 hour long Lord of the Rings movie, now THAT I could really get into! *wink*! I mean, think of it! I can call in sick so I can skip school for a week, and just watch the whole thing nonstop... hee hee! Anyway, thanks for your tips on the Sharpe series. Maybe I'll try picking up Sharpe's Eagles which is the next DVD in the series. Good luck on completely your Sharp collection! I really hope you enjoy this chapter, it was really lots of fun to write!
*Alex92* ~ I'm really glad you loved chapter 11! Chapter 12 is a bit longer than the previous chapter, hope you really like it!
*story reader* ~ Hello story reader! Welcome to my family of reviewers! I'm thrilled that you like my story! I'm so glad that you were able to enjoy story on your birthday! Here's an update, I really hope you enjoy the new chapter!
By Priscilla Stafford
Author's Note: I can't believe, I've beaten the recorded again! Chapter 12 is the longest chapter written so far, surpassing Chapter 11! I hope you're all pleased!
As you guessed from the title of this chapter, this is the chapter before the battle of Helm's Deep. This chapter is separated into four chapter, for four different characters. Enjoy!
Many reviewers appreciate the fact that I included Gwaihir in the last chapter! Thank you, thank you, thank you for mentioning that! Special thanks to all my reviewers are at the bottom of the chapter as usual!
Chapter Twelve: Evening Approaches
Haldir looked back over his shoulder, making sure that all the Elves were keeping up. He had good reason to keep up a good pace, the weather was grim and all of his instincts told him that there would be rain that night
The Elf kept his eyes forward, his mind somewhere else. He could hardly believe it was only yesterday that he had left Lothlorien. The Elves with their swift feet and keen sense of direction had traveled nonstop, neither stopping for rest or food. Haldir knew they had to be at Helm's Deep before the night had passed or it would be too late.
Haldir's mind wandered as it usually did every moment of silence. The Elves did not speak much, they did not waste breathe or time with words. So Haldir would always retreat into the comfort of his mind with the memories of only the day before.
Isilme, lovely Isilme. He had spoken truthfully when he had told her that she haunted her dreams. Yet now, not only did she haunt his dreams, she entered his head at all times. Isilme, with the radiant eyes.
He still could not believe he had been a fool so long to deny his true feelings for her. Now that his love for her was out in the open, he could not stop thinking of her. Of how it would be when he returned. Returning home would never be the same, for from now on, she would be waiting, for him and only him.
Maybe it was folly for having spoken to her before his departure. Because now his thoughts swirled around her entire being. And yet, Haldir knew that because of her, he would fight like he had never fought before, swifter, stronger, and more deadly.
For now he had one more reason to come home. Not just to return home to the beauty of Lorien, or to see once more his family who he loved. Yes, he had one more reason to return home, and this reason surpassed all the others for it was the most important reason of all. To go home to his love.
His hand wandered to absently pat an object underneath his chest plate. Around his neck was the necklace and pendant given to him by Isilme. Sweet Isilme.
But there was one other object which he kept safe behind his armor for protection. He had tied a small pouch around his neck. Inside the pouch was a ring, one which he treasured dearly.
The ring had been a gift to him from Lord Celeborn and Lady Galadriel. It had been presented to him so many years ago when he had left the woods of Lothlorien to got to battle. The ring's design was of three silver vines interwoven together with niphredil, the white flowers which grew in abundance in Lorien, delicately placed around the ring.
It had become a habit for Haldir to place the ring on his little finger whenever he left Lothlorien. It would always in a way bind him to his home. It had kept him safe for all of his life, an omen of peace and hope of returning.
Yet now, he did not wear it for the simple reason that he knew what he wished to do with it now. He wished not to have it bind him to Lothlorien. Instead, he wanted to place it on Isilme's finger, to bind him to her for all eternity.
Haldir smiled through the haze of the grey weather. With an image of Isilme firmly planted in his mind, he quickened his pace, trusting the others to keep up.
**********
Eowyn stared out of the window of her room, thoughts swirling around her head. The sun had yet to set but the sky was grey and already the weather was dark and cloudy. Eowyn's mood matched the weather perfectly.
She was standing as still as if she was made from stone, her shoulders thrown back in a stiff manner and her chin raised up in what may have been a defiant gesture. Even her clothes were stone gray in color, the material finely woven to keep off the evening chill.
Her hands were placed on the window sill, still and unmoving as the rest of her body.
The door opened to her room yet Eowyn did not acknowledge the entering of whoever it was. The servant she knew had come to bring her something warm to drink. The servant moved quietly across the room to place a tray on a corner table then just as silently, left the room. No words were spoken.
Still, the lady did not move. She was too absorbed in her thoughts. Thoughts which did nothing to ease her heart.
Eowyn still felt confused over her feelings for the mysterious Aragorn. She remembered the event which still caused her great unease, the event which had happened before the men had left for Helm's Deep.
She had brought a cup filled with wine to the departing men. She had first given the cup to the King of Rohan who had taken a sip. One by one she proffered the cup to the other guests.
When she stood before Aragorn she had paused, for she saw him smile at her. His smile took her breath away, for throughout every moment she had been with him, not once had he really looked in her eyes and smiled. But at that time, he had taken the cup with a smile upon his lips.
Their hands had met when he took the cup and Eowyn had felt a shiver course through her from his touch though she tried to hide it. Suddenly, Eowyn had strangely felt tears form in her eyes but did not let them fall. Why did she act so in front of Aragorn? Maybe she was afraid, afraid she would lose him.
With a tremble in her voice, she had said softly, only for his ears, "Hail Aragorn son of Arathorn!"
He too returned the greeting. "Hail Lady of Rohan!" But Eowyn's heart was torn in two when she saw that his face had gotten troubled and he smiled no more.
At the memory of his handsome face troubled with worry lines, Eowyn bowed her head. But she did not bow her head in shame, but in total frustration. Aragorn was the epitome of frustration to her, and she hated that feeling. She hated... she hated... nothing and everything! How can one man give her so much confusion?
She knew what she wanted. She wanted him to respect her, not pity her. Yes, it must be pity he saw in her. Pity for her loneliness. But she didn't want pity.
Instead, she wanted, needed to have someone to lean on. Someone to love, and someone to love her. For years her Uncle Theoden had slowly become under the influence of Wormtongue. And all through those years, Eomer and even her cousin Theodred had struggled to take care of Rohan, so that Saruman would not overrun the country with his minions. And throughout those years, never had Eowyn felt more alone.
Alone she had taken care of her uncle, slowly watching him waste away. She had never felt so much despair. Then Theodred had been taken away. Sweet, sweet Theodred! She had loved him as much as she had loved her own brother. Then that evil, wretched Wormtongue had banished Eomer from Rohan! It was only the fact of her Uncle Theoden could she continue her life full of depression and fear.
Then Gandalf had come, with Aragorn and his friends. From that moment, she felt that maybe, just maybe, everything would be all right. After all, Aragorn was the heir of Isildur, the future king of all Middle Earth. Shouldn't everything be all right.
Yet, everything was not all right. Theodred was still dead, her brother could not be found, the land of Rohan was still in danger, and Uncle Theoden had left for battle. But worst of all, it was the fact that she was a woman shunned and rejected by one man she had she could be happy with.
Eowyn shuddered as she felt a cold chill run through her back. She knew she had to sleep, for these thoughts were not healthy when one was alone. With firm steps she walked towards the corner table where the tray had been laid out for her.
On the center of the tray was a cup of hot herbal tea. Eowyn had for years now taken to drinking the tea each and every night before retiring for bed. It helped to soothe her depressed mind, warming her thoughts and body before sleeping. But sometimes the tea still did nothing to help her, at times sleep still eluding her grasp. Just like tonight.
Eowyn went to sit on the bed, only warming her hands on the warm tea. She did not drink it though. She turned was again into her thoughts.
Looking down into the tea, anger coursed through her veins as though her blood was as hot as the water itself. Anger at herself that she was one so weak she had to rely on this drink to soothe her soul.
Maybe Aragorn had reason to reject her. Weak she was for her heart quaked with fear at the growing darkness of night.
In a sudden burst of fury, Eowyn threw the cup down, shattering it against the wall, the contents spilling out over the carpet. In irritation for her behavior, she jumped up from the bed and ran to her chest. Throwing the cover open, she reached for her sword.
With a cry of strength she drew out her sword and threw the scabbard against the wall. She went through a series of warm-up exercises, swinging her sword this way and that.
Every second her frustration grew, and every moment her moves became more violent. Everything was a haze to her and she realized that she was sweating freely, the sweat blurring her sight.
She knew not how long she parried and thrust her sword, how long she panted from want of air. Her movements became clumsy and finally, with an erratic swing, the sword flew from her grasp onto the ground.
Gasping for air, Eowyn fell to her knees as the struggled for breath. A drop of sweat trickled down her cheek. Then another drop fell, and another until Eowyn realized they were tears. The tears began to drop freely from her eyes and she couldn't stop them.
Eowyn knew why she cried. She cried because she had no one to lean on, no one to love her, and just simply, no one. She was all alone and the thought was what tormented her every day and especially every night, all through the night.
With that thought, Eowyn brought her hands up to her face and openly cried into the emptiness of the night. But she knew, that even if morning came, the emptiness wouldn't disappear.
**********
"That is no orc horn."
Aragorn agreed with Legolas's observation and ran out of the room leaving Gimli still clad in the oversized mail shirt.
They were now at Helm's Deep and the darkness of night already covered the land. As Aragorn raced through the halls, he noted the old men and young boys preparing for battle. He gritted his teeth that this battle would be a battle between a few hundred farmers and lads against thousands of seasoned warriors, creatures of the dark.
'Well, they will not fight alone,' Aragorn thought with grim determination. He was pleased that Legolas had come to just moments earlier. He did not want any dissension between himself and one his good friends, and he knew that he felt the same despair which Legolas felt.
But now, leaning over one of the wall of Helm's Deep, Aragorn saw something that caused him to open his mouth in shock. For inside the walls were about two hundred Lothlorien Elf warriors, standing at battle attention.
Aragorn's expression of shock turned to one of pure happiness as he saw who lead the Elves. Haldir of Lothlorien was now placing a bow before the King of Rohan, his head slightly bowed. As Aragorn continued running to meet the Elf, he heard Haldir speak clearly through the stillness of the night.
"I bring word from the Lord and Lady of Lothlorien. An alliance once existed between Elves and Men. Long ago we fought, and died together." Aragorn saw that Haldir had caught sight of him. Haldir nodded his head in greeting and continued, "We come to honor that allegiance."
The heir of Isildur did not stop until he stood right in front of the Elf. Overcome with feeling, Aragorn brought his arms around Haldir in a tight embrace. Aragorn felt the Elf stiffen then relax, returning the embrace.
Aragorn pulled back. "You are most welcome."
Haldir nodded his head once more, a gesture full of understanding. In that moment, all the Elf warriors as if of one mind turned their heads, did a left face in perfect synchronization, and stood at attention.
Haldir himself turned to face King Theoden. "We are proud to fight alongside men once more."
Aragorn at those words looked over at Legolas and saw the Elf standing just behind Haldir. Legolas was too standing at attention, drawing himself to his full height. And in his eyes, Aragorn saw pride. Aragorn smiled for he felt happy for the Elf. The man knew that Legolas had of late been dispirited of the fact that none of his kind seemed to show much assistance to the men of Middle Earth. And with good reason, too. All of Elf kind had to protect their borders from the same Evil.
Yet now looking at Legolas, Aragorn saw that the other seemed at peace. And for that he was thankful for.
The battle for Helm's Deep will begin soon. And the men of Rohan will not fight alone.
**********
Eomer stared glumly into the fire burning before him. How helpless he felt, and he did not like the feeling.
It was now one week since his banishment from Rohan. In the memory of that day, Eomer clenched his hands into tight fists. How he hated Wormtongue for what that traitor had done to Rohan. Rohan was now so obviously in the grasp of Saruman, and Eomer could do nothing to stop it.
Or so he thought. He hoped in vain that there was still a chance that this country he loved so dearly could be saved. That was the reason for not leaving Rohan entirely. Even now, he and his army of a few hundred men stayed on the western shores of the Entwash. He was far enough away from Edoras that he doubted Wormtongue would send out what few soldiers that were left. And even if he and his men were pursued, Eomer doubted very much that they would be pursued further than the boundaries by the river Entwash. So here Eomer would wait, wait for his chance.
A few days before, he and his men had camped here. Then immediately, Eomer had dispatched seven riders to different parts of Rohan, hoping to bring back any news of the country. So far, none had returned and Eomer feared for their safety. Besides the countless small bands of Uruk-Hais scoring the lands, Wormtongue also had his spies scattered about.
So here Eomer would stay, stay until the chance came to him to return to his uncle. And to his sister.
At the thought of Eowyn, Eomer winced. What did she think of him now? Did she deem him a coward for leaving? No, he thought, she would never think that. She understood that his banishment had been given to him cruelly by that wretched worm who dared called himself an advisor. Eomer would like nothing more than to cut that traitor's tongue out, thus ridding the land of his lies and treachery.
But, what to do now? Eomer was a warrior, not a politician. He knew that now he could not go to Gondor for help. 'Gondor,' he scoffed. Eomer knew that Gondor had her own troubles with the growing strength of Mordor. No, Rohan must protect her own land, though it was hard at times to distinguish friend from foe.
Eomer heard a murmur go through the camp, his men stirring from their sleep. The sister-son of the King got up, wondering what the disturbance was. A sentry ran towards him and came to salute Eomer. "I'm sorry to disturb you my lord, but we have caught sight of a man on horseback approaching from the north."
Eomer knew without a doubt that the man couldn't miss the fires from their campsite. "Tell them men to be on their guard, I shall handle this." The sentry left after saluting in respect.
Taking his sword but leaving his helmet, Eomer went to the northern side of the camp and along with his other men watched the horseman approach.
The man on horse was coming straight towards them at a leisurely walk. Eomer cast his eyes around but saw no one else. With a quick whisper, he sent two of his men to silently leave the camp and search the area for any other intruders.
The stranger finally stopped when he reached the perimeter of the camp. Eomer, knowing that all of his archers were arming their bows in case of any danger, stood up and approached the horseman. "Who are you that you should ride up so casually to our encampment."
The other only turned his head this way and that, staying silent. Eomer took the time to study the man, for man he appeared to be. He wore a long, dark cloak, his head covered by the hood. Glancing at the man's boots, he saw that it was well used, as if the man had been on a very long journey. He had come to them from the north, perhaps he was one of those rangers from the North who wandered the lands. Yes, he must be so. Eomer strained to glance upon the face but could only distinguish a dark beard on the man's chin.
Eomer grew frustrated as the silence lengthened. Finally, he spoke with a touch of anger. "Speak quickly, for every second of your silence only gives evidence that you are foe, not friend."
The stranger raised both hands in a gesture saying that he carried no weapon in his hands. "Peace, man of Rohan. I know of the scouts you sent to check the perimeter. I only wait for them to return, so they will confirm that I am alone. Only then I know you will not trust whether I am friend or foe. In either case, your men have returned."
At that exact moment, Eomer's two men materialized from the darkness. Seeing their expressions, Eomer only pondered the strange behavior of this man, for strange behavior it was. How could this man have so much confidence, unless he really intended no harm? Or was he trying to ensnare them in a trap. He spoke plainly. "Stranger, I urge you to explain yourself."
"Once again, I say peace, man of Rohan. All will be explained to you. I only ask that you let me speak with Eomer, sister-son of Theoden."
"Once again, I say explain yourself, for I am Eomer."
The man chuckled deep from his throat. "Then I am very pleased. I ask that I be allowed to speak to you in private, for what I wish to say are for your ears alone."
Eomer pursed his lips. Indecision kept him from inviting the man into the camp. Yet, he had to admit that the man did not appear to be dangerous. The fact that the man was so calm though might be cause to worry of the man's intentions.
But Eomer too could play the confidence game. "Then I invite you to my fire. Do not worry for you horse, we men of Rohan know how to care for our horses."
The stranger nodded and lightly got off his horse. Immediately, while one of Eomer's men went to take the horse, another went to check the stranger for any weapons. The hooded figure shook off the other's hands. He pulled back one side of his robe to reveal a sword. "A sword I carry. What say you, Eomer?"
"A sword you may carry, but I hope you won't be affronted if I too keep my sword at hand." The stranger only chuckled then went to stand in front of Eomer. Eomer was a little displeased to see that hooded man was slightly taller than himself. So drawing himself to his full height, Eomer motioned for the other to follow him.
Soon the two were settled comfortably on either side of Eomer's campfire. Eomer had ordered his men to stay out of earshot but within sight in case of trouble. But even when the precautions were made, the stranger did not speak, only sat still, watching Eomer under hooded eyes.
Eomer sat with his sword lain across his knees, a reminder that the other was only a guest. Finally the stranger spoke. "I come to you, Eomer, with grim news."
"Speak quickly, I say to you. My patience wears thin. I hope sincerely that you have something important to say."
"Then speak quickly I will. Rohan is on the brink of being taken over by Saruman."
Eomer laughed without humor. "I have known this for long. Say something new for you begin to lose interest."
Eomer could see a humorless smile play on the features of the face which were visible from the light of the fire. "Then do you know this? Isengard has been emptied, its armies ready to destroy all free men of Rohan. Even now, what remains of Rohan's soldiers are preparing to keep a defense at Helm's Deep."
Immediately, Eomer leaned forward in interest. "This is indeed interesting. Who is it that inspired the Rohirrim, and now leads them at Hornburg."
"King Theoden, who else."
Eomer stood up in anger, his hand on the hilt of his sword. "Now I know you speak lies! For I know the condition of King Theoden and his health permits him to lead his men!"
The stranger too had stood up with some anger. "Do not call me a liar for you know me not! I know not of his health, but one thing I do know! Aragorn son of Arathorn, Legolas the Prince of Mirkwood, and Gimli son of Gloin are now at his side!"
He tried to speak more but Eomer silenced him. In shock he said, "You know of the man, Elf, and Dwarf who travel together?"
"I see you know of them."
"Maybe he does speak the truth," Eomer said out loud, but mostly to himself. "What else do you know?"
"The Rohirrim do not stand a chance against tens of thousands."
Eomer's jaw dropped. "There is no army so big!"
"Yet march they do, towards Helm's Deep."
The man of Rohan stared hard into the other's face. All of his warrior instincts told him to not listen, that it was surely a lie to trap him. To bring him back to Edoras to await execution from Wormtongue. Yet, all of his being, his heart, told him to trust him. But why? There was nothing remarkable about this man! He had still not even gazed into his face!
Eomer struggled with himself to decide. To believe, or not to believe? I hard question to answer.
The stranger seemed to sense his inner struggle. The man hesitated, then said, "If you are finding it hard to trust in me, then there is one thing I can do to make you believe me."
Narrowing his eyes, Eomer peered into the hooded face. "What is that one thing."
More hesitation. Then, "I will go with you to Helm's Deep. If it is a lie, my life is forfeit to you. If I speak truth, then I am just one more soldier to aide in your fight against Saruman's armies."
Well, Eomer certainly admired this man. He appeared honest, maybe his honesty was not in jest. Finally, he spoke with determination. "In either case, Rohan shall not fall, not while Eomer, sister-son of Theoden still lives."
The other's shoulders dropped as if in relief. "Then you will go to their aide?"
"Aye, we leave for Helm's Deep. Now, at this very minute." Eomer gestured for one of his men to come. In urgent tones, he told his guard to summon everyone to awake from their slumber, for they will ride for Helm's Deep.
As soon as the man left, Eomer turned to prepare the abandoning of the camp. But he stopped as he caught sight of the stranger, for he had almost forgotten about him. The figure was now sitting, staring into the fire.
Eomer went over to place his hand on the stranger's shoulder but the other did not even stir. "I hope you speak the truth, stranger."
"I do."
"Then I must have your name, for I cannot call you 'stranger' forever."
Eomer felt as if he had said something wrong for the man tensed. After a few moments, the man finally relaxed and stared up into Eomer's face. And for the first time, Eomer could see that the stranger's eyes were greenish- grey in color.
"You may call me Lavlaisi."
**********
Author's Note: DUM DU DUM! So, was that a shocker ender for this chapter? I really hope it was a good plot twist! I've always wanted to do a really good one, please tell me if it came out ok! Hee hee! Anyway, the next chapter will explain a bit more about why 'Lavlaisi' is with Eomer.
I hope you don't mind the change I did, saying that Haldir brings word from 'the Lord and Lady of Lothlorien'. I still can't understand why in the movies it says that the Elves were sent from Elrond! I mean, am I the only one that thinks that's a bit strange?
Honest to goodness, Eowyn's part was the hardest to write. I hope you like my characterization. I really wanted to delve more into Eowyn's loneliness and frustrations since the movies and sometimes the books don't really explore that. I hope it comes out all right.
Special thanks to:
*Diadora* ~ I really hope you like this chapter! Thanks for always e- mailing, I'll always try to write you back as soon as possible, and include a special thank you in my chapters. So, what do you think, were shocked with the ending? ^_^ About whether I kill Haldir or not... it's still a secret of mine! Glad you liked Windlord! Oh, I've read "Captain, My Captain" too! Isn't that a fantastic story? What do you thinkg, should Hethlin marry Imrahil or Elrohir? In my humble opinion, I simply LOVE Elrohir! No offense to Imrahil but he's a bit too old I think....
*Maria* ~ So, still guessing whether I'm going to save Haldir, huh? Well, don't worry, the battle of Helm's Deep will be coming up soon. All your questions will be answered!
*BoromirDefender* ~ Thanks for mentioning Gwaihir! The Denethor and Boromir meeting (although it'll be coming out later than you would have expected because of the surprise twist to this chapter!) is definitely going to be a challenge! But because of all the endless support from my wonderful family of reviewers, I feel as if there's nothing I can't do! Hee hee!
*Melodist* ~ Hmmm... technically I'm still a 'young'un' so I'll probably have to wait to see Lady Chatterley. ^_~ Anyway, thanks for liking the fact that I put Gwaihir into the story! Hope you like this chapter!
*you-know-who* ~ Well, here's another LONG chapter. Hope you enjoy it! I'm sure you'll find the ending surprising.
*bookwrym* ~ Welcome to my family of reviewers! Thanks for the recommendations on the Sharpe series. I'll definitely try to pick of "Sharpe's Eagles" since that's the next in the series. I'm really glad you're enjoying the story, hope you like this new updated chapter!
*~C~ and Ice50* ~ Hi, guys! I TOTALLY understand what you mean about sisters. I have one older sister, she's not exactly 'evil' but... well, you get the idea. Hee hee! *wink!* Besides, friends are the best of the best! Sorry that I spoiled your ideas about Boromir going to Minas Tirith! I decided to put a little plot twist. Hope it's ok with you guys! Once again, thanks for the reviews!
*Aelimir* ~ Glad you like Gwaihir! Yes, an image of seeing Boromir talking with an Eagle is VERY cool! Majestic vs. Kakkoi! Hee hee! I hope you find this chapter enjoyable! Thanks for your reviewage!
*iwantboromir* ~ YAY! I nice long review from one of my most faithful reviewers! Oooh, a 50 hour long Lord of the Rings movie, now THAT I could really get into! *wink*! I mean, think of it! I can call in sick so I can skip school for a week, and just watch the whole thing nonstop... hee hee! Anyway, thanks for your tips on the Sharpe series. Maybe I'll try picking up Sharpe's Eagles which is the next DVD in the series. Good luck on completely your Sharp collection! I really hope you enjoy this chapter, it was really lots of fun to write!
*Alex92* ~ I'm really glad you loved chapter 11! Chapter 12 is a bit longer than the previous chapter, hope you really like it!
*story reader* ~ Hello story reader! Welcome to my family of reviewers! I'm thrilled that you like my story! I'm so glad that you were able to enjoy story on your birthday! Here's an update, I really hope you enjoy the new chapter!