Chapter Nine:
Mairen groaned, rolling over in her bed, pulling the thin blanket over her head to block out the ray of sun glaring into her eyes, while also trying to block out the intense pounding in her head. It was loud and incessant, and suddenly was joined by an irate male voice that made her sit up with a start, realizing the pounding was not only in her head but also upon her door.
She swung her legs over the edge of the bed, staggering a bit as she stood up, holding the side of her head as she stumbled toward the door. She unlocked the door and stood back as it flew open with a crash that shook the wall behind it.
"By the gods, Mairen. I thought you were dead!" Willem snarled, pushing his way into the room, brushing past her to feel for a chair and sat down with a relieved if annoyed sigh.
Mairen shut the door carefully, and turned toward her brother. "Can a person not sleep, Willem?"
Willem swiveled in the chair to face her. "Is that what you call it now? I've been pounding on your door for fifteen minutes. Are you all right?"
Mairen sat down next to him at the small table, resting her head on her arms. "Aye, and I was sleeping, Willem. What else would I have been doing? Can one not sleep?"
Willem snorted. "Sleep, aye, but until nearly four in the afternoon? You'd think you'd been up all night?" He leaned forward on the table, his brows drawing over his eyes. "You weren't up all night were you?"
Mairen rubbed her temples. Why such a headache today? Four O'clock? She sat up staring at her brother. "Four? Is it that late?" she sighed and rubbed harder. "No, I have not been up all night, what makes you think that?"
Willem leaned back into the chair, and it gave a loud squeak in protest. "No reason, sister. Only Eamon said the elf Haldir followed you outside last night from the hall. Should he have followed?"
"Should who have followed?" Mairen asked, deliberately misunderstanding Willem's question. They must not have worried overly much of her welfare for she had seen no one.
Willem smiled, and Mairen sat back staring at her amused brother. "I think you know exactly what I mean, Mairen. Do not play the coy maiden, for you are not. I know that Haldir followed you, for I followed him."
Mairen blushed, thankful for once for Willem's blindness. "So you don't trust him?"
Willem grinned. "I trusted him to do what he felt needed to be done. And I trusted him to follow those codes most elves abide by, he more so than most I have ever met. I feared not for you, Mairen, but more for him." Willem chuckled and leaned forward to stare at her with his luminous blue eyes, eyes that could still stab through you.
Mairen stood up, but Willem caught her wrist. "You have feelings for this elf, Mairen. How much?"
She looked down at her brother. "What does it matter, Willem?"
Willem rose to stand beside her. "It matters a lot, Mairen. Will you not admit to anything anymore? Where is the sister I once knew, who told me her hearts desires, and wishes? Her dreams." He slid his hands up her arms to pull her close. "I only worry about you, Mairen."
She hugged him for a moment and then moved back. "I know. I cannot explain right now." She strode to the window, noting the sun was indeed high.
"So you will not be sad to know the elves have left."
She froze as dismay swept through her. He had said he was leaving. They had really not said good-bye. Was he sorry? She wondered. She touched her lips, thinking of his kiss. How different it had been. She had lain awake most the night thinking of it, wondering what it meant to him. What she meant to him. That kiss said he felt something. But was it for her, or someone else? She shook her head, for those thoughts had hounded her all night.
Willem moved to the window, resting his hands on her shoulders. "They left but Haldir said to tell you he will be waiting. For you cannot deny what you must do."
Rolfe sat at the table, waiting for the inevitable, knowing in his heart his decision was sound, but also knowing the furor it would create would be as difficult to handle as fighting off a hoard of Orcs. He rested his head in his hands, groaning at the image and waited.
Mairen strode into the stables, her boots clicking on the wooden planking as she made her way toward Epona's stall. She nodded to Gamling, who stood in the next stall, brushing his horse, and then turned to Epona to stare in shock at the empty stall.
"Where is Epona?" she asked Gamling, as he stared at her curiously.
He shrugged. "Renny took her with him this morning, I thought you were leaving as well? Did they not tell you?"
Mairen stared at the captain in horror. "Renny? He's gone?"
Gamling moved to the stall door. "Aye, he traded patrols with Frenden, although I do not know why, and they left this morning for the borders."
Mairen stepped back and then spun, running out of the stable.
Rolfe heard her coming and braced himself, still holding his head in his hands. The door was flung open, slamming loudly against the wall as Mairen strode into the room.
"What have you done with Epona?"
Rolfe sighed and straightened to look at his sister. "She is gone."
Mairen curled her hands into fists and Rolfe winced slightly. "I realize that, Rolfe. Where has she gone?" she asked tightly, her green- brown speckled eyes narrowed in anger.
Rolfe leaned his elbows on the table. "With Renny. She will be gone until I give him word to return."
Mairen stared at her brother in shock. "Word to return? She is my horse! You have no right to send her off with him!"
Rolfe stared up at her, his brown eyes dark with determination. "No right? I am head of this family, Mairen, and will do what I must to protect us."
Mairen marched forward to lean on the table, her eyes flashing with fury. "I don't care if you are the King! I want Epona, now!"
Rolfe sat back, one brow lifting slowly as he stared at her, and Mairen straightened. "You don't care? Don't care?" he growled, rising to lean his fists on the table, his eyes narrowed now in his own fury. "You have had dreams that you do not speak of, you nearly burned to death in the great hall, and the elf says this will only continue until you weaken and die unless you accept what they mean. And you don't care? Dammit, Mairen. I do!" He stood up, shoving an agitated hand through his hair. "I sent Renny with Epona and you are hereby ordered to stay within this city until I say otherwise. You have been released from duty."
Mairen stared at him in horror. "Released from duty? You can't do that, Rolfe."
Rolfe moved away from the table to stare out the window. "I can. I have already spoken to Eomer. So he will not help you."
"Why are you doing this to me?"
Rolfe turned back to face her, his demeanor inflexible. "Because I must, to protect you. Until you find some way to cure yourself of these visions and dreams, I will not endanger my men, or anyone else with your distraction."
Mairen stumbled back as if physically hit. "I would not endanger your men, Rolfe. But this is not fair. What am I to do?"
Rolfe frowned, his gaze sliding over her. "I don't know, Mairen. That will be for you to decide."
Haldir stood at the edge of the flet with distant gaze toward the edge of the forest. The sunlight filtered through the leaves of the canopy above him, dappling the wooden platform in blotches of green tinted light. The wardens with him watched his back, their concerned gazes touching him briefly before they too turned to face the forest.
How long had he stood here, staring at the distant border of his lands, yet his mind flew miles from there, seeking a connection that was as yet still closed to him. He frowned, gripping the long bow in his hand. It was too close, the day of her reckoning was fast approaching; he could feel it. He glanced behind him at the wardens gathered on the flet, but then turned back to stare once more out into the distance.
The messenger slipped through the trees, and his approach quickly caught Haldir's attention. Haldir slid his bow over his back, and climbed down out of the flet, gracefully dropping out of the tree to meet the elf.
"By your leave, March Warden," the elf greeted him, with a hand to his heart. "I bring word from Orophin and Rúmil. Orcs, a large party, heading their way."
Haldir frowned and with a quick glance at the wardens who hovered near, nodded. "Well done, I will send for reinforcements." The elves slid through the trees, disappearing quickly into the shadows of the forest.
Rúmil crouched down on the sturdy branch, only a few trees separating him from the open expanse of grassy verge that separated the woods of Lórien from the banks of the Celebrant. He glanced down, noting the elves below him as they spread closer to the edge of the woods, the rank smell of Orc burning his nostrils as he waited.
They were irrational, these Orcs to come so boldly to the edge of the wood. Rúmil gripped his bow, an arrow nocked and ready, as he crouched.
Orophin moved to the last tree facing the river, sliding behind the narrow trunk, to peer around it. Like Rúmil above him, his thoughts pondered the reasons for the Orcs being so foolhardy, for they camped within broad site of the wood, just outside of bow range.
Were they baiting the elves? Did they think to draw them out into the open to fight, while more hid among the rocks along the stream? Did they think the elves so foolish? He didn't think it likely and that worried him even more.
The elves settled in to wait, and Orophin sank down in a crouch, leaning on his bow as he watched the Orcs carefully. How long he leaned there he was not sure but the pressure of Haldir's hand on his shoulder was welcome as he rose to face his brother.
"They sit as if waiting. I don't like it." Orophin muttered softly, his glance returning to the far camp. He turned back to Haldir. "Do we advance?"
Haldir shook his head, his gaze scanning the forest, noting the elves that waited. "Nay, it is what they want. Let them wait, as we wait. They can make the first move." He gestured to another, and the elf slipped through the trees toward them. "I will send word to the Lady to reinforce the other borders. I know not if this is only a diversion, but will not take any chances."
The elf left quickly with his message, and Haldir climbed high into the tree with Orophin, returning Rúmil's signal with a trilling whistle. Haldir leaned against the trunk of the tree as Orophin settled on a branch below him.
"The Orcs grow hungry," Orophin murmured quietly. "I have had word they come from Moria in large packs, hoping to snare an unwary elf during the night." He glanced up at Haldir. "It does not bode well for any travelers."
Haldir frowned, gripping his bow tightly. "I am aware of that, Orophin. We can only protect those who are near." He settled back against the tree, his icy gaze trained on the far camp.
Celeborn paced restlessly, his silver hair falling in a soft sheen down his back as Galadriel followed him with her gaze. He turned, flashing her a brief glint of icy blue eyes and then turned back to pace again, his hands gripped together behind his back.
"It does no good to pace, Celeborn," Galadriel said softly, smiling as she rose to walk toward him.
Celeborn glanced at her, an ironic smile easing the frowning lines from his face. "Ah, of course not, but one must do something. I fear it is times like this that I grow impatient."
Galadriel's eyes twinkled with laughter, amid her own concern. "Impatient? Dear Celeborn, you are a patient as a rock, and as solid. Fear not for them, for they stand firm." She rested her hand on his arm and he relaxed, squeezing it tightly.
"I do not fear for Haldir, Galadriel, or his wardens. The Orcs play their games. We have countered their attempts at distraction and the borders are guarded well. Nay, it is other thoughts that have me concerned."
Galadriel pulled Celeborn to sit, staring at her husband with a frown. "I know well of your worries. Haldir too grows concerned, for her time nears quickly. The weeks since his return have flown past. She reaches her age of majority soon, if what Haldir told me is true. Her brothers say her birthing day lies late in the summer."
Celeborn sighed, gripping Galadriel's hand. "I have not been able to connect again since that first time. The maid guards her thoughts now. I cannot tell how she fares."
Galadriel rubbed his hand. "Haldir has a slim sense of her, though nothing really tangible. She has the stone. She knows what it can do. She will use it."
Celeborn looked at her. "Will she? Does she truly understand? Haldir said she would not listen. A story too farfetched for her to comprehend her danger."
Galadriel smiled. "Aye, for the Rohirran. But inside her mind lies someone else, and I have to believe eventually she will understand what she must do."
Celeborn glanced at her with a worried frown. "But will it be in time, Galadriel? Will it be in time?"
Mairen threw the mug against the wall of her room as the ache grew inside her head, spilling ale over the wood to run in pale streaks to the floor. Another headache, another vision, they had grown worse as the days passed. The elf had been right and it irritated her to know how much.
She sank against the wall, rubbing her forehead in an all too familiar habit. The dreams bombarded her every night now, and she often sat morosely staring at the fire, unable to prevent them and unable to understand what they meant. All she knew was that she was beginning to despise the person whose memories she shared.
That's what they were, she realized. She grasped that concept even with her vague understanding of Haldir's explanation, memories. Not her own, but of another. What did that mean? Why was she receiving these memories, now all of a sudden? She leaned her head back, groaning in frustration. Why?
She rested her forehead on her hand, staring blankly at the sodden wall. Weeks and weeks of forced inactivity with only the growing memories to hound her had driven her nearly insane. Rolfe was adamant and had not recalled Renny. And Willem had not helped either. Since when had he become Haldir's ally? He had sided with the elf, and she wondered perhaps if the blow to his head had addled his brains. He had not thought that funny and had avoided her for days.
She wished she had not been so stubborn. Now what to do? She knew she was growing weaker. The thought of food made her nauseous, and sleeping was a rarity anymore. A few spare minutes of complete exhaustion to fall asleep, and then the dreams would return. She didn't dare walk to the walls anymore, fearing she'd not be able to walk back up the hill. And she feared more that her brothers would see her as weak and helpless.
She never wanted to be weak. Had learned to bear the fiercest pain in silence. Had trained countless hours to be an equal. And now it was all gone. She wondered if she could even throw a lance with any skill?
And for what? What purpose lay in her mind to stubbornly refuse the help that was offered? She shook her head, unable to voice an answer that would not sound childish. She brushed away a tear roughly with the back of her hand.
Fear. In all her years she had fought against fear, hiding it, trying to control it, but in the end, it had reared its ugly head and swept away her control. Fear of the unknown, fear of her lack of control of her mind, fear of caring for a creature so unlike herself. Fear of her own emotions. She pushed herself to her feet, and made her way to the door.
It was time to acknowledge her fear.
Willem stared at Mairen; his eyes trained on her, but his expression distant, his gaze dim. She sat with her head on her arms, wearied beyond measure and he seemed to feel it, reaching out to rest a comforting hand on her shoulder.
Eamon leaned against the door, his arms folded over his chest, his face inscrutable as he gazed at Mairen. Rolfe sat next to her and leaned closer to put an arm around her shoulders.
The night had been long, as she described dreams, memories of what she saw, avoiding the few she could not bear to tell. Her brothers had listened, at first unwilling to believe, but now sat around her in silence, unsure of what more to say.
"Why did you not tell us sooner, Mairen?" Rolfe asked softly, squeezing her shoulder.
Mairen did not look up, only sighed. "I am afraid, Rolfe." She sat up, her eyes dark, her face pale. "I am afraid of what it all means. Haldir told you I have the fëa of an elf inside me? That I have been reborn? But I am not an elf I am Rohirran. I have parents that are of a long line of Rohan people. You are my brothers. It makes no sense."
Rolfe frowned. "I know, but what he says fits. You are having memories of an elf, things you should never know, words you can speak as if you were born to them."
Mairen shuddered, hiding her face in her hands. "I know, but I am afraid. I do not want to be this elf... I do not like her!"
Rolfe sat back. "You are not her, Mairen, you are who you are. No matter what her memories are, you will not become her."
Mairen took a deep wavering breath. This had been so hard, and she was so tired. "I wish I could believe that. Truly I do."
Rolfe gripped her arms, pulling her around to face him. "You must, for if Haldir words are true, if you do not then you will die, Mairen. You have to accept these memories as yours."
Mairen sighed staring at her brothers in defeat. "I do not know how."
Rolfe glanced at Eamon, and Willem, reaching out to touch the blind one's hand. "Then you must go to Lórien."
Mairen watched as Renny rode into the stable, dimly aware that Epona followed, but her sight blurred as another memory took hold.
Seothlindë. She knew the name now. Not that it mattered. She was a separate entity in her mind. Controlling her thoughts, her feelings, nearly overwhelming Mairen with her memories. Mairen had come to despise her.
The elf was young, from what Mairen could make out, but yet a warrior of great strength and ability. She had felt this, known it inherently as she fought in her remembrances. She had trained among the best. A trait Mairen found too similar to her own.
But the last memory had shaken Mairen, the last memory of the elf as she stood guard duty, at the harbor. She faced the sea, her keen eyes seeing far out into the horizon, the bustle of the wharf a distant murmur as she focused on the tiny vessel sailing into the bay.
It was not unusual for the elven city to gain visitors of all nations, for indeed they were a harbor, and many sailed to and from the elvish port in trade. Humans, a few dwarves, races that to Seothlindë defiled the pristine elvish stronghold with their presence. But one she was often forced to endure.
She followed the vessel, and then ignored it, noting its human origins. Weak, pathetic creatures, they knew no honor. Understood nothing of what grace and elegance and knowledge stood for. No, they only sought supremacy through greed and corruption. They destroyed beauty in the name of power. She sneered at their efforts to rule the world, and was dismayed at the retreat of her own people.
How could they give in? How could they relinquish the hold of their lands, leaving them to the humans? Seothlindë did not understand, and found fault in the race of men.
Mairen shuddered at the emotions she felt, agonized over the unwillingness to see another side. How could the elf be so cold? She didn't understand her. Didn't want to.
She rubbed her forehead, preparing once more for the onslaught of memory, unaware of the concerned gazes that flew to her as she slid in a heap in the middle of the stable.
She stared at the vessel, watching it weave erratically toward the shore, angling first one way and then the next, as if no one handled the rudder, or did so while distracted by something else. They couldn't even sail true, she thought irritably, as the vessel narrowly missed another, angling once more toward the wharf.
Seothlindë marched toward the pier, signaling the other guard to follow, gripping the long sword at her hip in irritation. Her father was gone for the day, and as Harbor Master he would have inspected the vessel as it docked. She would have to do it for him, and frowned in distaste.
The warden paused beside her as she waited for the vessel to draw near, stepping back as the humans rushed to toss ropes to the elves on the pier. The vessel bumped roughly against the stone, and several men sprang out, turning quickly to face her.
"Where have you been, and what is your purpose here?" she asked diffidently, her eyes narrowed as they bowed for a moment.
"We seek aid, warden. For we have sick on board."
Seothlindë frowned. "There is none here who can aid you, seek out another harbor, where there are human healers." She turned around, but one of the men caught her arm.
"We have sought other harbors, and healers. They cannot help, but told us that the elves are great healers in themselves. Please, it is my mother, you must help us."
Seothlindë stared rudely at the man's hand, and he released her.
"There are none who will aid you, human. Leave, for you will find nothing here." She spun around and marched away from the dock, her cloak flaring out behind her. The man stared and then raced behind her, turning her roughly around only to back away at the sword that was drawn and pointed at him.
"Touch me not," she hissed.
The man dropped to his knees, shaking. "Please, I beg you, it is a matter of life and death."
Mairen sat up, sweating profusely, horrified at the coldness that filled her heart. I would have helped him, she thought desperately. No matter, I would have helped.... She drifted off into a welcome darkness, unaware of the arms that carried her home.
Haldir sheathed his sword, scanning the forest around him as the elves gathered close. Orcs lay in heaps, their recent battle still echoing in Haldir's mind. The Northern fences had been harried constantly in the past few weeks, along with the southern border by the Moria Orcs. Bereft of the power by Sauron, the Orcs were no longer controlled, and fell into packs of snarling evil that preyed on everything. If they would only fight among themselves, Haldir thought, but the Orcs had thought to gain other fare for dinner, to their demise. But still the attacks had to be rebuffed, and Haldir had spent the past weeks plotting defense after defense, tracking the creatures, and sending his brothers to the southern fences to guard them while he traveled north.
He had a nagging feeling that he would regret that choice.
He strode away from the carnage, thrusting past a large thicket of brush, to reach the trees that held the guard flets. He rose into the canopy, climbing effortlessly and pulled himself onto the platform. One of his messengers waited and Haldir spoke with him, sending him quickly back to the city with news.
That done, he moved to the edge of the platform, watching the work below with a distant gaze. The elves worked tirelessly, piling the bodies of the Orcs and burning them. Haldir was thankful the wind blew the stench away from him. He knew that in itself was also a disadvantage, as it would lure more of the Orcs to his borders.
He gripped the hilt of his sword, his grey eyes narrowed in distaste. A whisper brushed his mind; a tiny tendril of thought that slowly seeped into his consciousness. With a start Haldir stiffened, cocking his head, searching his mind for an echo of that thought. He gripped his bow in frustration, knowing that the slim connection he had to Mairen was tangible yet tentative. With her inability to focus and unaware of how to use the inherent magic of her soul to join their thoughts with any strength, she was using more her own willfulness to connect with him. But she did, if fleetingly, a brief moment of clarity that brought a sudden curse to his lips and he spun, shouldering his bow as he flew down out of the tree.
He could not reach the border before she did. She was riding straight for his southern border, and the Orcs.
Mairen leaned back precariously, her mind too weary to think, holding onto the pommel of the saddle as she swayed in the slow gate of Epona's steps. Willem leaned beside her, feeling for her arm and pulled her upright.
"Even I can tell that you do not sit your horse as you should, Mairen. Do I need to make you ride with me or Eamon?"
Mairen forced her mind to clear. She gripped the reins, gritting her teeth. "Nay, I will not ride with another. I will tie myself to the saddle if need be, but will ride my own horse." She glanced at her brother as he shook his head.
"You will arrive only because of your stubbornness." He groused, but patted her knee.
Mairen sighed, and fumbled in the pocket of her tunic, finally drawing out the worry stone to stare at it. She remembered Loriel's words, and Haldir's. Had he truly been able to see her thoughts, as she had, by its power? She knew he had seen her memory of him, known instantly the moment he had connected. Was it the stone that had enabled him to do so? And would the stone connect them again, this far? She hoped so. She gripped the stone in her hand, closing her eyes briefly, feeling it warm, the heat spreading up her arm. She focused her thoughts to one thing, picturing Haldir as she remembered him, consciously keeping that other vision of him in the recesses of her mind, but seeing him as the warrior he'd been, at Helm's Deep, fighting Orc after Orc in a graceful dance of death. I am coming she thought desperately again, having done so several times as they rode toward the lands of Lothlórien. The darkness seeped in on the edges of her thoughts. I am coming to you for aid. She bowed her head, but then sat up as an image of trees she could not see flashed in her mind, their golden leaves fluttering in a breeze she did not feel, and heard a curse in elvish that she was sure she did well not to understand. The darkness grew, and she knew no more.
"Please I beg you, it's a matter of life and death!" the man had said.
Seothlindë ignored him and turned back around only to come face to face with the very elf of her dreams. She had not known he was coming. She stepped back as he frowned, pushing past her.
"Such little compassion, warden. Have you no heart?" The March Warden gripped the man's arm pulling him to his feet. "Where are your sick?"
Seothlindë gasped. "You do not intend to heal them?"
Haldir turned back to the harbor warden. "Indeed, I do. The Valar give us gifts, Seothlindë, to use them, not to hoard them for ourselves."
He turned back, following the man onto the docks, disappearing into the hold of the tiny vessel.
Seothlindë hurried after him, drawing back at the stench of the hold, holding her nose as she stared through the gloom.
Haldir was bent over a prone woman, her face nearly gray, resisting the pull of death with a last effort, her watery eyes locked with the March Warden's. He eased beside her, his large frame blocking much of Seothlindë's view. He spoke softly, soothingly, and bent over, placing his hands around the woman's damp face.
After a few long moments, she sat up, clutching the elf's tunic desperately, her face flushed suddenly with color, and then Haldir gripped her arms gently, lowering her back to the cot. In moments she closed her eyes, her face no longer gray, but pale, her breathing soft, but unhampered. The man bent to his knees, clutching Haldir's hand.
"I cannot thank you enough, my lord."
Haldir pulled the human to his feet. "I am no lord, but only a warden, a guardian. She will sleep, and will need food as soon as she wakes." The man nodded and Haldir made his way out of the hold back into the bright sunlight.
Seothlindë followed again, and pushed past the other elves to grip Haldir's sleeve.
"They are insignificant, mere mortals! Why?"
Haldir stopped, his grey eyes narrowed on her face. "Who are we to think ourselves above them, Seothlindë? I would aid a dwarf, though I like them not, as I have the human, for I carry a gift that I must pass on. You would do well to leave the ill feeling you hold behind you, for I fear the tidings of evil will sweep you away."
Seothlindë gasped, stepping back out of his path and the March Warden bowed slightly.
"I thought we might have some things in common, but I see you have yet much to learn about life. Perhaps when you grow in both age and spirit we shall find each other again." He smiled, a bit sadly. "I do not think you are yet ready."
Mairen woke with a start, remembering the scent of the hold of the tiny ship, and it still stung her nose. She rubbed it unconsciously and then froze as the realization of just what the smell she now breathed was hit her.
"Orcs!" she screamed at the same time Willem did, drawing back on her reins, spinning Epona around as the patrol began to splash through the river in front of them. Willem bent over the side of his roan to avoid a black arrow that hurdled only inches from his face. The other Rohirrim split, forming their lines of defense and Mairen urged Epona through the shallow water, releasing her lance to grip it tightly in her hand.
The Orcs swarmed out of the rocks, and a Rohirran guard fell in front of Mairen.
The Rohirrim spread out, lances thrown with deadly accuracy, but Mairen gripped hers, knowing she would not be able to wield her sword. She gripped Epona with her knees, whirling the lance to strike the advancing Orcs as they drew near, while Epona snapped and bit anything that came close. They moved back out of her reach and Mairen suddenly was afraid.
She had not the strength to kill, nor barely maim. Around her Rohirrim fought bravely and Orcs fell, but more flooded out from the rocks. The great trees of Lothlórien swayed in the near distance, close yet too far.
Willem charged past her, still gripping his lance. He swung at the Orcs that had backed away from Mairen, scattering them. She didn't know if it was merely luck or his intuition, but was grateful for his intervention.
The Orcs were howling, the horses screaming, and Mairen twisted as several advanced rapidly toward her. The darkness hovered on the edge of her vision and Mairen shook her head to clear it. She would not let it take her; she could not. She drew her dagger from her boot, and with a brief shudder jabbed the point into her thigh, hissing at the shock of pain.
The darkness fled amid the pain, and Mairen bent over, trembling as she held the bloody knife in her hand, her lance leveled toward the advancing Orcs. The other Rohirrim had moved away from her, and she spun Epona in a circle, swinging the lance around in an arc to hold off the evil creatures.
They laughed, seeing her as easy prey. Mairen snarled, swinging her lance over her head and swiping it at the closest Orc. To her horror the creature caught the lance, laughing at her shock, and with a jerk that was far too easy, swept her off Epona to land in the shallow water of the river.
Mairen stood up, still gripping her knife and whistled a keening note. Epona snorted, and spun around, leaping into the air. With amazing strength the horse kicked out her hind feet, slamming the Orc nearest her in the head. He fell back and Epona screamed, rearing up on hind legs. Mairen spun as an arrow whistled past her head, ducking the shaft, and then crouched shivering amid the boulders of the river, watching in despair as the other Orcs advanced on her slowly.
One picked up the lance that floated near the fallen Orc, staring at it in anger, and snapped it cleanly in two, throwing aside the tail end. He hefted the short spear in his hand, and turned to Mairen, wading toward her in the shallow water.
Mairen drew back, but the Orc guessed her intention, slamming the spear across her stomach. She bent over gasping for air, twisting to embed her knife into the Orc but it only growled slapping the thin dagger out of her hand. It lashed out with a beefy arm throwing her onto her back into the river. She had only a moment to prepare for the worst, throwing her arm protectively over her face, but then dragged herself back to her feet when the blow never came. The Orc lay face down in the water, and she sucked in a deep breath at the elvish arrow that protruded from his back.
She heard the elves, calling out to the others, and picked up the remains of her lance. She whistled for Epona, turning to search for the horse when she was knocked off her feet once more into the water. She fell face down, gasping at the shock of the cold water, and struggled to rise again. She stood up, flinging off her helmet and shoving her wet hair out of her face to stare at the Orc looming over her.
She wasn't fast enough to avoid the fist that knocked her back off her feet, groaning as the cold atrophied muscles far too weak for this fight, and she resisted the Orc feebly as it grabbed her tunic, lifting her into the air.
She slammed the short spear across its face, and the Orc snarled, drawing her closer to its leering mouth, rank with decay.
Mairen writhed desperately, and it dropped her. The Orc raised its sword, but froze as he swept out his arm, finally falling toward her into the water with another elvish arrow in his back. She looked frantically around for the elves and could see them running toward the river.
Mairen slogged through the water, her feet numb, and then gasped as she was spun around, moaning as the Orc arrow slammed into her shoulder and she sank into the water once more.
She was going to drown. The will to move her limbs was gone, and she held her breath, struggling to gain control. She was yanked roughly out of the water, rolled onto her back on the rocks and she opened her eyes to find Orophin bending over her, his blue eyes raking over her body.
"Anything else other than the arrow?" He asked quickly, unable to tell for sure from the blood that splattered her clothes.
Mairen's teeth chattered. "N...no." she gasped, with cold as well as pain.
Orophin glanced quickly around him. And then bent close. "I have to break off the end, and push it through. It has only hit muscle, but cannot pull it out, the tip is barbed."
Mairen nodded feebly.
Orophin quickly snapped off the end of the arrow, ignoring her hiss of pain, and then shoved the shaft through her shoulder. Mairen shuddered violently, and she groaned, gritting her teeth to hold in her cry of pain.
Orophin rose, shouting for Rúmil and he ran over, dragging Epona with him. Orophin gripped Mairen's tunic and hoisted her onto Epona's back quickly, as Rúmil left them to hold off several Orcs heading their way.
Orophin turned as Loriel gripped his shoulder. "I will ride with her. You are needed here more," she stated and mounted quickly behind Mairen as Orophin nodded.
"Ride quickly, Loriel. Haldir will be coming on the road from the north. She is very weak."
Loriel nodded, kicking her feet and Epona leaped forward, over several Orcs to fly toward the tree line and safety.
Haldir raced down the path, drawn by fear and frustration as he ran swiftly, his bow held in his hand, over the well-worn trail.
He could feel her fear. The connection had been opened and he felt the terror that rushed over her. And could do nothing.
He leaped over a shallow dip in the path, landing solidly on the other side, hardly breaking his stride, his cloak flaring out behind him as he ran.
She was still there, and for that he was thankful. He could feel the connection growing thin again, as if stretched. He grasped for it in his mind, aware of his steps yet focused on the tiny thread bridging him with Mairen.
Only a few more leagues, he thought, and then drew back as the sound of the horse galloping toward him echoed in the forest. He drew aside the path, and waited the few moments it took for Loriel to appear amid the leaf- covered trail, reining in the roan. Epona reared back, but settled down quickly as Loriel let go of Mairen and Haldir pulled her into his arms.
Mairen groaned as Haldir laid her gently on the ground, spinning to look at Loriel. "The others?"
Loriel frowned, gripping Epona's reins tightly. "Still fighting. The Rohirrim fight well, I only saw one or two down. But the odds are evenly matched."
Haldir waved his hand. "Go back, I will take her. More are coming."
Loriel nodded and spun Epona around, urging the balking horse to her command to ride back the way she had come. Haldir bent down, gathering Mairen in his arms to stride back along the path. In moments the elves following him passed him, a brief questioning glance answered by his gaze and then he was once again alone with Mairen.
She was trembling, whether with cold or pain or both he was not sure and he stopped, laying her again on the ground.
"Mairen, can you hear me?"
Mairen opened her eyes, fully green now and blinked, biting her lips to stop them from quivering. "Aye." She whispered.
"You're freezing, and injured. I have to take off your tunic to get to the wound on your shoulder, and rid you of the wet clothes."
Mairen smiled feebly. "You can't look though." She laughed weakly and Haldir shook his head in exasperation, reaching out to unbuckle the armor at her sides. She shivered violently, and he pulled the leather armor away, pulling his knife out of his boot. With a quick slice up the sides of her tunic, he eased the woolen garment off.
"Where is your mail? Mairen, you have no chain mail on."
Mairen gripped his sleeve. "T..too heavy. I couldn't s..stand it."
Haldir frowned. "How often do they come?"
Mairen curled into his arms as he wrapped his cloak around her. "Too much, I get n...no rest." She shuddered as the leggings came off, along with her boots. The rush of cool air did not help and her teeth chattered loudly.
Haldir pushed her back against the ground, sliding his hands along her body, noting the thinness with narrowed eyes, and then probed her shoulder gently. "Who pushed the arrow out?"
Mairen blinked, as the warmth of his hands sent a different kind of shiver through her. "O..Orophin."
Haldir gave a sigh of relief, and then pressed on her shoulder. Mairen closed her eyes as the shock of the heat swept through her shoulder, and suddenly the pain ebbed to a dull ache. She took a deep breath, still frozen but at least free from most of the pain. She gasped when Haldir's hand brushed her thigh.
"This is not from an Orc blade," he hissed, drawing her attention to his face. The grey eyes stared at her, searching.
"N..nay.. I did it."
Haldir's chin rose in surprise. "Why?" he whispered.
"The d..darkness.. was coming. I couldn't let it take o..over..." she whispered back, and shook as a violent tremor swept through her.
Haldir's lips thinned and he bent over her, drawing his cloak around her body. "I have to get you back to Caras Galadhon."
Mairen closed her eyes, but shook her head. "No! My brothers, you must help them."
Haldir picked her up, holding her close to him. "They are in good hands, Mairen, do not fear for them."
Mairen sighed, enfolded in Haldir's arms felt glorious, the warmth of his cloak calming the shivering of her limbs.
"Am I in good hands, Haldir?" she whispered, resting her head against his chest as his arms tightened around her.
"Aye, you're in mine, Mairen. You could have no better."
Mairen groaned, rolling over in her bed, pulling the thin blanket over her head to block out the ray of sun glaring into her eyes, while also trying to block out the intense pounding in her head. It was loud and incessant, and suddenly was joined by an irate male voice that made her sit up with a start, realizing the pounding was not only in her head but also upon her door.
She swung her legs over the edge of the bed, staggering a bit as she stood up, holding the side of her head as she stumbled toward the door. She unlocked the door and stood back as it flew open with a crash that shook the wall behind it.
"By the gods, Mairen. I thought you were dead!" Willem snarled, pushing his way into the room, brushing past her to feel for a chair and sat down with a relieved if annoyed sigh.
Mairen shut the door carefully, and turned toward her brother. "Can a person not sleep, Willem?"
Willem swiveled in the chair to face her. "Is that what you call it now? I've been pounding on your door for fifteen minutes. Are you all right?"
Mairen sat down next to him at the small table, resting her head on her arms. "Aye, and I was sleeping, Willem. What else would I have been doing? Can one not sleep?"
Willem snorted. "Sleep, aye, but until nearly four in the afternoon? You'd think you'd been up all night?" He leaned forward on the table, his brows drawing over his eyes. "You weren't up all night were you?"
Mairen rubbed her temples. Why such a headache today? Four O'clock? She sat up staring at her brother. "Four? Is it that late?" she sighed and rubbed harder. "No, I have not been up all night, what makes you think that?"
Willem leaned back into the chair, and it gave a loud squeak in protest. "No reason, sister. Only Eamon said the elf Haldir followed you outside last night from the hall. Should he have followed?"
"Should who have followed?" Mairen asked, deliberately misunderstanding Willem's question. They must not have worried overly much of her welfare for she had seen no one.
Willem smiled, and Mairen sat back staring at her amused brother. "I think you know exactly what I mean, Mairen. Do not play the coy maiden, for you are not. I know that Haldir followed you, for I followed him."
Mairen blushed, thankful for once for Willem's blindness. "So you don't trust him?"
Willem grinned. "I trusted him to do what he felt needed to be done. And I trusted him to follow those codes most elves abide by, he more so than most I have ever met. I feared not for you, Mairen, but more for him." Willem chuckled and leaned forward to stare at her with his luminous blue eyes, eyes that could still stab through you.
Mairen stood up, but Willem caught her wrist. "You have feelings for this elf, Mairen. How much?"
She looked down at her brother. "What does it matter, Willem?"
Willem rose to stand beside her. "It matters a lot, Mairen. Will you not admit to anything anymore? Where is the sister I once knew, who told me her hearts desires, and wishes? Her dreams." He slid his hands up her arms to pull her close. "I only worry about you, Mairen."
She hugged him for a moment and then moved back. "I know. I cannot explain right now." She strode to the window, noting the sun was indeed high.
"So you will not be sad to know the elves have left."
She froze as dismay swept through her. He had said he was leaving. They had really not said good-bye. Was he sorry? She wondered. She touched her lips, thinking of his kiss. How different it had been. She had lain awake most the night thinking of it, wondering what it meant to him. What she meant to him. That kiss said he felt something. But was it for her, or someone else? She shook her head, for those thoughts had hounded her all night.
Willem moved to the window, resting his hands on her shoulders. "They left but Haldir said to tell you he will be waiting. For you cannot deny what you must do."
Rolfe sat at the table, waiting for the inevitable, knowing in his heart his decision was sound, but also knowing the furor it would create would be as difficult to handle as fighting off a hoard of Orcs. He rested his head in his hands, groaning at the image and waited.
Mairen strode into the stables, her boots clicking on the wooden planking as she made her way toward Epona's stall. She nodded to Gamling, who stood in the next stall, brushing his horse, and then turned to Epona to stare in shock at the empty stall.
"Where is Epona?" she asked Gamling, as he stared at her curiously.
He shrugged. "Renny took her with him this morning, I thought you were leaving as well? Did they not tell you?"
Mairen stared at the captain in horror. "Renny? He's gone?"
Gamling moved to the stall door. "Aye, he traded patrols with Frenden, although I do not know why, and they left this morning for the borders."
Mairen stepped back and then spun, running out of the stable.
Rolfe heard her coming and braced himself, still holding his head in his hands. The door was flung open, slamming loudly against the wall as Mairen strode into the room.
"What have you done with Epona?"
Rolfe sighed and straightened to look at his sister. "She is gone."
Mairen curled her hands into fists and Rolfe winced slightly. "I realize that, Rolfe. Where has she gone?" she asked tightly, her green- brown speckled eyes narrowed in anger.
Rolfe leaned his elbows on the table. "With Renny. She will be gone until I give him word to return."
Mairen stared at her brother in shock. "Word to return? She is my horse! You have no right to send her off with him!"
Rolfe stared up at her, his brown eyes dark with determination. "No right? I am head of this family, Mairen, and will do what I must to protect us."
Mairen marched forward to lean on the table, her eyes flashing with fury. "I don't care if you are the King! I want Epona, now!"
Rolfe sat back, one brow lifting slowly as he stared at her, and Mairen straightened. "You don't care? Don't care?" he growled, rising to lean his fists on the table, his eyes narrowed now in his own fury. "You have had dreams that you do not speak of, you nearly burned to death in the great hall, and the elf says this will only continue until you weaken and die unless you accept what they mean. And you don't care? Dammit, Mairen. I do!" He stood up, shoving an agitated hand through his hair. "I sent Renny with Epona and you are hereby ordered to stay within this city until I say otherwise. You have been released from duty."
Mairen stared at him in horror. "Released from duty? You can't do that, Rolfe."
Rolfe moved away from the table to stare out the window. "I can. I have already spoken to Eomer. So he will not help you."
"Why are you doing this to me?"
Rolfe turned back to face her, his demeanor inflexible. "Because I must, to protect you. Until you find some way to cure yourself of these visions and dreams, I will not endanger my men, or anyone else with your distraction."
Mairen stumbled back as if physically hit. "I would not endanger your men, Rolfe. But this is not fair. What am I to do?"
Rolfe frowned, his gaze sliding over her. "I don't know, Mairen. That will be for you to decide."
Haldir stood at the edge of the flet with distant gaze toward the edge of the forest. The sunlight filtered through the leaves of the canopy above him, dappling the wooden platform in blotches of green tinted light. The wardens with him watched his back, their concerned gazes touching him briefly before they too turned to face the forest.
How long had he stood here, staring at the distant border of his lands, yet his mind flew miles from there, seeking a connection that was as yet still closed to him. He frowned, gripping the long bow in his hand. It was too close, the day of her reckoning was fast approaching; he could feel it. He glanced behind him at the wardens gathered on the flet, but then turned back to stare once more out into the distance.
The messenger slipped through the trees, and his approach quickly caught Haldir's attention. Haldir slid his bow over his back, and climbed down out of the flet, gracefully dropping out of the tree to meet the elf.
"By your leave, March Warden," the elf greeted him, with a hand to his heart. "I bring word from Orophin and Rúmil. Orcs, a large party, heading their way."
Haldir frowned and with a quick glance at the wardens who hovered near, nodded. "Well done, I will send for reinforcements." The elves slid through the trees, disappearing quickly into the shadows of the forest.
Rúmil crouched down on the sturdy branch, only a few trees separating him from the open expanse of grassy verge that separated the woods of Lórien from the banks of the Celebrant. He glanced down, noting the elves below him as they spread closer to the edge of the woods, the rank smell of Orc burning his nostrils as he waited.
They were irrational, these Orcs to come so boldly to the edge of the wood. Rúmil gripped his bow, an arrow nocked and ready, as he crouched.
Orophin moved to the last tree facing the river, sliding behind the narrow trunk, to peer around it. Like Rúmil above him, his thoughts pondered the reasons for the Orcs being so foolhardy, for they camped within broad site of the wood, just outside of bow range.
Were they baiting the elves? Did they think to draw them out into the open to fight, while more hid among the rocks along the stream? Did they think the elves so foolish? He didn't think it likely and that worried him even more.
The elves settled in to wait, and Orophin sank down in a crouch, leaning on his bow as he watched the Orcs carefully. How long he leaned there he was not sure but the pressure of Haldir's hand on his shoulder was welcome as he rose to face his brother.
"They sit as if waiting. I don't like it." Orophin muttered softly, his glance returning to the far camp. He turned back to Haldir. "Do we advance?"
Haldir shook his head, his gaze scanning the forest, noting the elves that waited. "Nay, it is what they want. Let them wait, as we wait. They can make the first move." He gestured to another, and the elf slipped through the trees toward them. "I will send word to the Lady to reinforce the other borders. I know not if this is only a diversion, but will not take any chances."
The elf left quickly with his message, and Haldir climbed high into the tree with Orophin, returning Rúmil's signal with a trilling whistle. Haldir leaned against the trunk of the tree as Orophin settled on a branch below him.
"The Orcs grow hungry," Orophin murmured quietly. "I have had word they come from Moria in large packs, hoping to snare an unwary elf during the night." He glanced up at Haldir. "It does not bode well for any travelers."
Haldir frowned, gripping his bow tightly. "I am aware of that, Orophin. We can only protect those who are near." He settled back against the tree, his icy gaze trained on the far camp.
Celeborn paced restlessly, his silver hair falling in a soft sheen down his back as Galadriel followed him with her gaze. He turned, flashing her a brief glint of icy blue eyes and then turned back to pace again, his hands gripped together behind his back.
"It does no good to pace, Celeborn," Galadriel said softly, smiling as she rose to walk toward him.
Celeborn glanced at her, an ironic smile easing the frowning lines from his face. "Ah, of course not, but one must do something. I fear it is times like this that I grow impatient."
Galadriel's eyes twinkled with laughter, amid her own concern. "Impatient? Dear Celeborn, you are a patient as a rock, and as solid. Fear not for them, for they stand firm." She rested her hand on his arm and he relaxed, squeezing it tightly.
"I do not fear for Haldir, Galadriel, or his wardens. The Orcs play their games. We have countered their attempts at distraction and the borders are guarded well. Nay, it is other thoughts that have me concerned."
Galadriel pulled Celeborn to sit, staring at her husband with a frown. "I know well of your worries. Haldir too grows concerned, for her time nears quickly. The weeks since his return have flown past. She reaches her age of majority soon, if what Haldir told me is true. Her brothers say her birthing day lies late in the summer."
Celeborn sighed, gripping Galadriel's hand. "I have not been able to connect again since that first time. The maid guards her thoughts now. I cannot tell how she fares."
Galadriel rubbed his hand. "Haldir has a slim sense of her, though nothing really tangible. She has the stone. She knows what it can do. She will use it."
Celeborn looked at her. "Will she? Does she truly understand? Haldir said she would not listen. A story too farfetched for her to comprehend her danger."
Galadriel smiled. "Aye, for the Rohirran. But inside her mind lies someone else, and I have to believe eventually she will understand what she must do."
Celeborn glanced at her with a worried frown. "But will it be in time, Galadriel? Will it be in time?"
Mairen threw the mug against the wall of her room as the ache grew inside her head, spilling ale over the wood to run in pale streaks to the floor. Another headache, another vision, they had grown worse as the days passed. The elf had been right and it irritated her to know how much.
She sank against the wall, rubbing her forehead in an all too familiar habit. The dreams bombarded her every night now, and she often sat morosely staring at the fire, unable to prevent them and unable to understand what they meant. All she knew was that she was beginning to despise the person whose memories she shared.
That's what they were, she realized. She grasped that concept even with her vague understanding of Haldir's explanation, memories. Not her own, but of another. What did that mean? Why was she receiving these memories, now all of a sudden? She leaned her head back, groaning in frustration. Why?
She rested her forehead on her hand, staring blankly at the sodden wall. Weeks and weeks of forced inactivity with only the growing memories to hound her had driven her nearly insane. Rolfe was adamant and had not recalled Renny. And Willem had not helped either. Since when had he become Haldir's ally? He had sided with the elf, and she wondered perhaps if the blow to his head had addled his brains. He had not thought that funny and had avoided her for days.
She wished she had not been so stubborn. Now what to do? She knew she was growing weaker. The thought of food made her nauseous, and sleeping was a rarity anymore. A few spare minutes of complete exhaustion to fall asleep, and then the dreams would return. She didn't dare walk to the walls anymore, fearing she'd not be able to walk back up the hill. And she feared more that her brothers would see her as weak and helpless.
She never wanted to be weak. Had learned to bear the fiercest pain in silence. Had trained countless hours to be an equal. And now it was all gone. She wondered if she could even throw a lance with any skill?
And for what? What purpose lay in her mind to stubbornly refuse the help that was offered? She shook her head, unable to voice an answer that would not sound childish. She brushed away a tear roughly with the back of her hand.
Fear. In all her years she had fought against fear, hiding it, trying to control it, but in the end, it had reared its ugly head and swept away her control. Fear of the unknown, fear of her lack of control of her mind, fear of caring for a creature so unlike herself. Fear of her own emotions. She pushed herself to her feet, and made her way to the door.
It was time to acknowledge her fear.
Willem stared at Mairen; his eyes trained on her, but his expression distant, his gaze dim. She sat with her head on her arms, wearied beyond measure and he seemed to feel it, reaching out to rest a comforting hand on her shoulder.
Eamon leaned against the door, his arms folded over his chest, his face inscrutable as he gazed at Mairen. Rolfe sat next to her and leaned closer to put an arm around her shoulders.
The night had been long, as she described dreams, memories of what she saw, avoiding the few she could not bear to tell. Her brothers had listened, at first unwilling to believe, but now sat around her in silence, unsure of what more to say.
"Why did you not tell us sooner, Mairen?" Rolfe asked softly, squeezing her shoulder.
Mairen did not look up, only sighed. "I am afraid, Rolfe." She sat up, her eyes dark, her face pale. "I am afraid of what it all means. Haldir told you I have the fëa of an elf inside me? That I have been reborn? But I am not an elf I am Rohirran. I have parents that are of a long line of Rohan people. You are my brothers. It makes no sense."
Rolfe frowned. "I know, but what he says fits. You are having memories of an elf, things you should never know, words you can speak as if you were born to them."
Mairen shuddered, hiding her face in her hands. "I know, but I am afraid. I do not want to be this elf... I do not like her!"
Rolfe sat back. "You are not her, Mairen, you are who you are. No matter what her memories are, you will not become her."
Mairen took a deep wavering breath. This had been so hard, and she was so tired. "I wish I could believe that. Truly I do."
Rolfe gripped her arms, pulling her around to face him. "You must, for if Haldir words are true, if you do not then you will die, Mairen. You have to accept these memories as yours."
Mairen sighed staring at her brothers in defeat. "I do not know how."
Rolfe glanced at Eamon, and Willem, reaching out to touch the blind one's hand. "Then you must go to Lórien."
Mairen watched as Renny rode into the stable, dimly aware that Epona followed, but her sight blurred as another memory took hold.
Seothlindë. She knew the name now. Not that it mattered. She was a separate entity in her mind. Controlling her thoughts, her feelings, nearly overwhelming Mairen with her memories. Mairen had come to despise her.
The elf was young, from what Mairen could make out, but yet a warrior of great strength and ability. She had felt this, known it inherently as she fought in her remembrances. She had trained among the best. A trait Mairen found too similar to her own.
But the last memory had shaken Mairen, the last memory of the elf as she stood guard duty, at the harbor. She faced the sea, her keen eyes seeing far out into the horizon, the bustle of the wharf a distant murmur as she focused on the tiny vessel sailing into the bay.
It was not unusual for the elven city to gain visitors of all nations, for indeed they were a harbor, and many sailed to and from the elvish port in trade. Humans, a few dwarves, races that to Seothlindë defiled the pristine elvish stronghold with their presence. But one she was often forced to endure.
She followed the vessel, and then ignored it, noting its human origins. Weak, pathetic creatures, they knew no honor. Understood nothing of what grace and elegance and knowledge stood for. No, they only sought supremacy through greed and corruption. They destroyed beauty in the name of power. She sneered at their efforts to rule the world, and was dismayed at the retreat of her own people.
How could they give in? How could they relinquish the hold of their lands, leaving them to the humans? Seothlindë did not understand, and found fault in the race of men.
Mairen shuddered at the emotions she felt, agonized over the unwillingness to see another side. How could the elf be so cold? She didn't understand her. Didn't want to.
She rubbed her forehead, preparing once more for the onslaught of memory, unaware of the concerned gazes that flew to her as she slid in a heap in the middle of the stable.
She stared at the vessel, watching it weave erratically toward the shore, angling first one way and then the next, as if no one handled the rudder, or did so while distracted by something else. They couldn't even sail true, she thought irritably, as the vessel narrowly missed another, angling once more toward the wharf.
Seothlindë marched toward the pier, signaling the other guard to follow, gripping the long sword at her hip in irritation. Her father was gone for the day, and as Harbor Master he would have inspected the vessel as it docked. She would have to do it for him, and frowned in distaste.
The warden paused beside her as she waited for the vessel to draw near, stepping back as the humans rushed to toss ropes to the elves on the pier. The vessel bumped roughly against the stone, and several men sprang out, turning quickly to face her.
"Where have you been, and what is your purpose here?" she asked diffidently, her eyes narrowed as they bowed for a moment.
"We seek aid, warden. For we have sick on board."
Seothlindë frowned. "There is none here who can aid you, seek out another harbor, where there are human healers." She turned around, but one of the men caught her arm.
"We have sought other harbors, and healers. They cannot help, but told us that the elves are great healers in themselves. Please, it is my mother, you must help us."
Seothlindë stared rudely at the man's hand, and he released her.
"There are none who will aid you, human. Leave, for you will find nothing here." She spun around and marched away from the dock, her cloak flaring out behind her. The man stared and then raced behind her, turning her roughly around only to back away at the sword that was drawn and pointed at him.
"Touch me not," she hissed.
The man dropped to his knees, shaking. "Please, I beg you, it is a matter of life and death."
Mairen sat up, sweating profusely, horrified at the coldness that filled her heart. I would have helped him, she thought desperately. No matter, I would have helped.... She drifted off into a welcome darkness, unaware of the arms that carried her home.
Haldir sheathed his sword, scanning the forest around him as the elves gathered close. Orcs lay in heaps, their recent battle still echoing in Haldir's mind. The Northern fences had been harried constantly in the past few weeks, along with the southern border by the Moria Orcs. Bereft of the power by Sauron, the Orcs were no longer controlled, and fell into packs of snarling evil that preyed on everything. If they would only fight among themselves, Haldir thought, but the Orcs had thought to gain other fare for dinner, to their demise. But still the attacks had to be rebuffed, and Haldir had spent the past weeks plotting defense after defense, tracking the creatures, and sending his brothers to the southern fences to guard them while he traveled north.
He had a nagging feeling that he would regret that choice.
He strode away from the carnage, thrusting past a large thicket of brush, to reach the trees that held the guard flets. He rose into the canopy, climbing effortlessly and pulled himself onto the platform. One of his messengers waited and Haldir spoke with him, sending him quickly back to the city with news.
That done, he moved to the edge of the platform, watching the work below with a distant gaze. The elves worked tirelessly, piling the bodies of the Orcs and burning them. Haldir was thankful the wind blew the stench away from him. He knew that in itself was also a disadvantage, as it would lure more of the Orcs to his borders.
He gripped the hilt of his sword, his grey eyes narrowed in distaste. A whisper brushed his mind; a tiny tendril of thought that slowly seeped into his consciousness. With a start Haldir stiffened, cocking his head, searching his mind for an echo of that thought. He gripped his bow in frustration, knowing that the slim connection he had to Mairen was tangible yet tentative. With her inability to focus and unaware of how to use the inherent magic of her soul to join their thoughts with any strength, she was using more her own willfulness to connect with him. But she did, if fleetingly, a brief moment of clarity that brought a sudden curse to his lips and he spun, shouldering his bow as he flew down out of the tree.
He could not reach the border before she did. She was riding straight for his southern border, and the Orcs.
Mairen leaned back precariously, her mind too weary to think, holding onto the pommel of the saddle as she swayed in the slow gate of Epona's steps. Willem leaned beside her, feeling for her arm and pulled her upright.
"Even I can tell that you do not sit your horse as you should, Mairen. Do I need to make you ride with me or Eamon?"
Mairen forced her mind to clear. She gripped the reins, gritting her teeth. "Nay, I will not ride with another. I will tie myself to the saddle if need be, but will ride my own horse." She glanced at her brother as he shook his head.
"You will arrive only because of your stubbornness." He groused, but patted her knee.
Mairen sighed, and fumbled in the pocket of her tunic, finally drawing out the worry stone to stare at it. She remembered Loriel's words, and Haldir's. Had he truly been able to see her thoughts, as she had, by its power? She knew he had seen her memory of him, known instantly the moment he had connected. Was it the stone that had enabled him to do so? And would the stone connect them again, this far? She hoped so. She gripped the stone in her hand, closing her eyes briefly, feeling it warm, the heat spreading up her arm. She focused her thoughts to one thing, picturing Haldir as she remembered him, consciously keeping that other vision of him in the recesses of her mind, but seeing him as the warrior he'd been, at Helm's Deep, fighting Orc after Orc in a graceful dance of death. I am coming she thought desperately again, having done so several times as they rode toward the lands of Lothlórien. The darkness seeped in on the edges of her thoughts. I am coming to you for aid. She bowed her head, but then sat up as an image of trees she could not see flashed in her mind, their golden leaves fluttering in a breeze she did not feel, and heard a curse in elvish that she was sure she did well not to understand. The darkness grew, and she knew no more.
"Please I beg you, it's a matter of life and death!" the man had said.
Seothlindë ignored him and turned back around only to come face to face with the very elf of her dreams. She had not known he was coming. She stepped back as he frowned, pushing past her.
"Such little compassion, warden. Have you no heart?" The March Warden gripped the man's arm pulling him to his feet. "Where are your sick?"
Seothlindë gasped. "You do not intend to heal them?"
Haldir turned back to the harbor warden. "Indeed, I do. The Valar give us gifts, Seothlindë, to use them, not to hoard them for ourselves."
He turned back, following the man onto the docks, disappearing into the hold of the tiny vessel.
Seothlindë hurried after him, drawing back at the stench of the hold, holding her nose as she stared through the gloom.
Haldir was bent over a prone woman, her face nearly gray, resisting the pull of death with a last effort, her watery eyes locked with the March Warden's. He eased beside her, his large frame blocking much of Seothlindë's view. He spoke softly, soothingly, and bent over, placing his hands around the woman's damp face.
After a few long moments, she sat up, clutching the elf's tunic desperately, her face flushed suddenly with color, and then Haldir gripped her arms gently, lowering her back to the cot. In moments she closed her eyes, her face no longer gray, but pale, her breathing soft, but unhampered. The man bent to his knees, clutching Haldir's hand.
"I cannot thank you enough, my lord."
Haldir pulled the human to his feet. "I am no lord, but only a warden, a guardian. She will sleep, and will need food as soon as she wakes." The man nodded and Haldir made his way out of the hold back into the bright sunlight.
Seothlindë followed again, and pushed past the other elves to grip Haldir's sleeve.
"They are insignificant, mere mortals! Why?"
Haldir stopped, his grey eyes narrowed on her face. "Who are we to think ourselves above them, Seothlindë? I would aid a dwarf, though I like them not, as I have the human, for I carry a gift that I must pass on. You would do well to leave the ill feeling you hold behind you, for I fear the tidings of evil will sweep you away."
Seothlindë gasped, stepping back out of his path and the March Warden bowed slightly.
"I thought we might have some things in common, but I see you have yet much to learn about life. Perhaps when you grow in both age and spirit we shall find each other again." He smiled, a bit sadly. "I do not think you are yet ready."
Mairen woke with a start, remembering the scent of the hold of the tiny ship, and it still stung her nose. She rubbed it unconsciously and then froze as the realization of just what the smell she now breathed was hit her.
"Orcs!" she screamed at the same time Willem did, drawing back on her reins, spinning Epona around as the patrol began to splash through the river in front of them. Willem bent over the side of his roan to avoid a black arrow that hurdled only inches from his face. The other Rohirrim split, forming their lines of defense and Mairen urged Epona through the shallow water, releasing her lance to grip it tightly in her hand.
The Orcs swarmed out of the rocks, and a Rohirran guard fell in front of Mairen.
The Rohirrim spread out, lances thrown with deadly accuracy, but Mairen gripped hers, knowing she would not be able to wield her sword. She gripped Epona with her knees, whirling the lance to strike the advancing Orcs as they drew near, while Epona snapped and bit anything that came close. They moved back out of her reach and Mairen suddenly was afraid.
She had not the strength to kill, nor barely maim. Around her Rohirrim fought bravely and Orcs fell, but more flooded out from the rocks. The great trees of Lothlórien swayed in the near distance, close yet too far.
Willem charged past her, still gripping his lance. He swung at the Orcs that had backed away from Mairen, scattering them. She didn't know if it was merely luck or his intuition, but was grateful for his intervention.
The Orcs were howling, the horses screaming, and Mairen twisted as several advanced rapidly toward her. The darkness hovered on the edge of her vision and Mairen shook her head to clear it. She would not let it take her; she could not. She drew her dagger from her boot, and with a brief shudder jabbed the point into her thigh, hissing at the shock of pain.
The darkness fled amid the pain, and Mairen bent over, trembling as she held the bloody knife in her hand, her lance leveled toward the advancing Orcs. The other Rohirrim had moved away from her, and she spun Epona in a circle, swinging the lance around in an arc to hold off the evil creatures.
They laughed, seeing her as easy prey. Mairen snarled, swinging her lance over her head and swiping it at the closest Orc. To her horror the creature caught the lance, laughing at her shock, and with a jerk that was far too easy, swept her off Epona to land in the shallow water of the river.
Mairen stood up, still gripping her knife and whistled a keening note. Epona snorted, and spun around, leaping into the air. With amazing strength the horse kicked out her hind feet, slamming the Orc nearest her in the head. He fell back and Epona screamed, rearing up on hind legs. Mairen spun as an arrow whistled past her head, ducking the shaft, and then crouched shivering amid the boulders of the river, watching in despair as the other Orcs advanced on her slowly.
One picked up the lance that floated near the fallen Orc, staring at it in anger, and snapped it cleanly in two, throwing aside the tail end. He hefted the short spear in his hand, and turned to Mairen, wading toward her in the shallow water.
Mairen drew back, but the Orc guessed her intention, slamming the spear across her stomach. She bent over gasping for air, twisting to embed her knife into the Orc but it only growled slapping the thin dagger out of her hand. It lashed out with a beefy arm throwing her onto her back into the river. She had only a moment to prepare for the worst, throwing her arm protectively over her face, but then dragged herself back to her feet when the blow never came. The Orc lay face down in the water, and she sucked in a deep breath at the elvish arrow that protruded from his back.
She heard the elves, calling out to the others, and picked up the remains of her lance. She whistled for Epona, turning to search for the horse when she was knocked off her feet once more into the water. She fell face down, gasping at the shock of the cold water, and struggled to rise again. She stood up, flinging off her helmet and shoving her wet hair out of her face to stare at the Orc looming over her.
She wasn't fast enough to avoid the fist that knocked her back off her feet, groaning as the cold atrophied muscles far too weak for this fight, and she resisted the Orc feebly as it grabbed her tunic, lifting her into the air.
She slammed the short spear across its face, and the Orc snarled, drawing her closer to its leering mouth, rank with decay.
Mairen writhed desperately, and it dropped her. The Orc raised its sword, but froze as he swept out his arm, finally falling toward her into the water with another elvish arrow in his back. She looked frantically around for the elves and could see them running toward the river.
Mairen slogged through the water, her feet numb, and then gasped as she was spun around, moaning as the Orc arrow slammed into her shoulder and she sank into the water once more.
She was going to drown. The will to move her limbs was gone, and she held her breath, struggling to gain control. She was yanked roughly out of the water, rolled onto her back on the rocks and she opened her eyes to find Orophin bending over her, his blue eyes raking over her body.
"Anything else other than the arrow?" He asked quickly, unable to tell for sure from the blood that splattered her clothes.
Mairen's teeth chattered. "N...no." she gasped, with cold as well as pain.
Orophin glanced quickly around him. And then bent close. "I have to break off the end, and push it through. It has only hit muscle, but cannot pull it out, the tip is barbed."
Mairen nodded feebly.
Orophin quickly snapped off the end of the arrow, ignoring her hiss of pain, and then shoved the shaft through her shoulder. Mairen shuddered violently, and she groaned, gritting her teeth to hold in her cry of pain.
Orophin rose, shouting for Rúmil and he ran over, dragging Epona with him. Orophin gripped Mairen's tunic and hoisted her onto Epona's back quickly, as Rúmil left them to hold off several Orcs heading their way.
Orophin turned as Loriel gripped his shoulder. "I will ride with her. You are needed here more," she stated and mounted quickly behind Mairen as Orophin nodded.
"Ride quickly, Loriel. Haldir will be coming on the road from the north. She is very weak."
Loriel nodded, kicking her feet and Epona leaped forward, over several Orcs to fly toward the tree line and safety.
Haldir raced down the path, drawn by fear and frustration as he ran swiftly, his bow held in his hand, over the well-worn trail.
He could feel her fear. The connection had been opened and he felt the terror that rushed over her. And could do nothing.
He leaped over a shallow dip in the path, landing solidly on the other side, hardly breaking his stride, his cloak flaring out behind him as he ran.
She was still there, and for that he was thankful. He could feel the connection growing thin again, as if stretched. He grasped for it in his mind, aware of his steps yet focused on the tiny thread bridging him with Mairen.
Only a few more leagues, he thought, and then drew back as the sound of the horse galloping toward him echoed in the forest. He drew aside the path, and waited the few moments it took for Loriel to appear amid the leaf- covered trail, reining in the roan. Epona reared back, but settled down quickly as Loriel let go of Mairen and Haldir pulled her into his arms.
Mairen groaned as Haldir laid her gently on the ground, spinning to look at Loriel. "The others?"
Loriel frowned, gripping Epona's reins tightly. "Still fighting. The Rohirrim fight well, I only saw one or two down. But the odds are evenly matched."
Haldir waved his hand. "Go back, I will take her. More are coming."
Loriel nodded and spun Epona around, urging the balking horse to her command to ride back the way she had come. Haldir bent down, gathering Mairen in his arms to stride back along the path. In moments the elves following him passed him, a brief questioning glance answered by his gaze and then he was once again alone with Mairen.
She was trembling, whether with cold or pain or both he was not sure and he stopped, laying her again on the ground.
"Mairen, can you hear me?"
Mairen opened her eyes, fully green now and blinked, biting her lips to stop them from quivering. "Aye." She whispered.
"You're freezing, and injured. I have to take off your tunic to get to the wound on your shoulder, and rid you of the wet clothes."
Mairen smiled feebly. "You can't look though." She laughed weakly and Haldir shook his head in exasperation, reaching out to unbuckle the armor at her sides. She shivered violently, and he pulled the leather armor away, pulling his knife out of his boot. With a quick slice up the sides of her tunic, he eased the woolen garment off.
"Where is your mail? Mairen, you have no chain mail on."
Mairen gripped his sleeve. "T..too heavy. I couldn't s..stand it."
Haldir frowned. "How often do they come?"
Mairen curled into his arms as he wrapped his cloak around her. "Too much, I get n...no rest." She shuddered as the leggings came off, along with her boots. The rush of cool air did not help and her teeth chattered loudly.
Haldir pushed her back against the ground, sliding his hands along her body, noting the thinness with narrowed eyes, and then probed her shoulder gently. "Who pushed the arrow out?"
Mairen blinked, as the warmth of his hands sent a different kind of shiver through her. "O..Orophin."
Haldir gave a sigh of relief, and then pressed on her shoulder. Mairen closed her eyes as the shock of the heat swept through her shoulder, and suddenly the pain ebbed to a dull ache. She took a deep breath, still frozen but at least free from most of the pain. She gasped when Haldir's hand brushed her thigh.
"This is not from an Orc blade," he hissed, drawing her attention to his face. The grey eyes stared at her, searching.
"N..nay.. I did it."
Haldir's chin rose in surprise. "Why?" he whispered.
"The d..darkness.. was coming. I couldn't let it take o..over..." she whispered back, and shook as a violent tremor swept through her.
Haldir's lips thinned and he bent over her, drawing his cloak around her body. "I have to get you back to Caras Galadhon."
Mairen closed her eyes, but shook her head. "No! My brothers, you must help them."
Haldir picked her up, holding her close to him. "They are in good hands, Mairen, do not fear for them."
Mairen sighed, enfolded in Haldir's arms felt glorious, the warmth of his cloak calming the shivering of her limbs.
"Am I in good hands, Haldir?" she whispered, resting her head against his chest as his arms tightened around her.
"Aye, you're in mine, Mairen. You could have no better."