Author: Fianna
Rating: R
Warnings: Mild Violence
Disclaimer: The characters of Lord of the Rings belong solely to J.R.R. Tolkien. I use them with the greatest respect and for personal enjoyment only.
Chapter 16
It was Time
The heavy wooden door slammed shut with a resounding thud as she stood frozen in place. She felt numb. The image of Haldir lying still on the stone steps of Meduseld as she was forcefully dragged away haunted her. Thrust into the Great Hall without another word, she'd been unable to go to him. And now she stood staring at the closed door with a growing sense of horror because she had no idea whether he lived or died.
Behind her the hall was deathly quiet, too quiet as Mairen leaned forward to rest her hands on the door, curling her nails into the wood. Between the fear that perhaps the elf was now torn from her forever and the fact that she'd been wrenched aside, thrown into the hall like she had no business fighting, her heart was now constricted into a painful dull throb in her chest.
She rested her forehead against the door, struggling to contain the emotions that choked her, weighing so heavy she could hardly breathe. All of her struggles and trials of the past year, all her convictions meant nothing if he were gone. Haldir had been her rock, unconsciously driving her, tantalizing her, teaching her what it was to be an elf. He had made her remember, and now… now he was lying on the cold steps far away from her, and possibly because she had interfered.
Loriel's words troubled her. She had disobeyed Haldir's orders to stay behind. She had forced herself into the midst of the fight. She'd attracted Harad's attention, and perhaps worse, distracted Haldir, but the fight was as much hers as anyone else's. Had she not been promised to Harad? Hadn't she?
She squeezed her eyes shut, willing the hot rush of tears away. She was such a fool. How many times had she denied Haldir? How afraid she'd been of the very emotion that had driven her before as Seothlindë? She could hear the muffled shouts from outside, yet she could only stand there, frozen against the door.
How many battles had she fought? Side by side with her brothers despite her gender, fighting and knowing she was welcome as the next man? Only to be shoved aside like a child or a woman with no battle skills at all?
She had believed she could accept a life in Rohan, alone. She had thought she could accept marrying Harad, but she knew she'd been lying to herself. All along she'd denied what her heart felt, denied that she could be anything but what she was, an elf, inside if not in body, and a warrior. Harad would have accepted neither.
She turned around, leaning back against the door, and gazed into the hall dazedly. It was filled with many of the Rohirrim, a few injured warriors, all staring at her in silence. What must they think of her? All this past month, news of her engagement and wedding had had tongues wagging. Had they known just who had asked for her? And what now?
She pushed away from the door, making her way past the curious and sank down on a low bench near the fire. A fire Haldir had saved her from in front of many of those watching her now. And she had repaid his kindness with fury, a slap to his face and his reputation. Yet he had opened the path to her recovery, accepting her role as a marshal of Rohan, a shield maiden, and fighter as much as he was a warden of Lórien.
She felt a hand touch her shoulder and looked up to find Éowyn bending down beside her.
"'Are you injured, hurt?"
She could only shake her head, unwilling to speak; afraid that once she did the tide of emotions would pour out, a flood of fear and despair. She rubbed her temple in an attempt to hide the tears that she knew were just beneath the surface, unwilling to reveal her weakness.
Éowyn grasped her hand, drawing it away from her face, studying her carefully. "What has happened? The battle continues. Where is your sword? Has someone been hurt? Éomer?"
Mairen shook her head again. "Nay, the last I saw of the King he was well. It is Haldir who has been injured." She bit her lip and looked away, struggling to contain her grief. "I do not know if he lives or not."
Éowyn clasped Mairen's hands in hers tightly. "I am sure he is alive, you must keep faith."
"I have lost my faith, Éowyn. I have been a fool to think I could have married Harad."
"Harad?" Éowyn repeated sharply.
Mairen met the shield maiden's startled gaze. "I believed when Éomer first spoke of his proposal that he had meant me to be with Harad." She rubbed her temple as it throbbed painfully. "It seemed so logical, it all fit so well with what had happened."
Éowyn drew closer, wrapping her arm around Mairen's shoulders. "You know it was not Harad! How could you think that?"
Mairen closed her eyes, unsure of why she had believed it and feeling foolish she had not asked. "But when Harad arrived and Éomer said he had not expected the Anorien, leaving me floundering with who else he could have meant … " She took a deep breath, unwilling yet to voice the hope that sat like a lead weight in her stomach.
Éowyn's grip on her hands made Mairen open her eyes. The shield maiden was frowning, her brows drawn together over her eyes. "It was never Harad. Had I realized this was what you thought …" she shuddered faintly. "Éomer has used you as a means to draw Harad to Edoras, as well as the elves. But you were never promised to him, Mairen, even though he's asked for you several times."
The woman sighed faintly. "You were but a pawn in a larger net. Éomer received a request from Harad, yes, but it was not agreed upon. Who do you think he would deliver you to? Who has been your shadow for over the past year, Mairen? It can only be a person who cares very much for you."
Mairen drew back, sliding from beneath the comforting hands of Éowyn with a faint moan of despair. "And who may lie prone outside, his soul fleeing to the Halls of Mandos as we speak."
Éowyn's brows lifted, her eyes searching Mairen's for a long moment. "Does your heart tell you he is gone?"
Mairen shook her head. "I dare not believe it." She wrapped her arms over her chest as if to shield her heart from the thought. "But then I should have seen the battle to come. Rolfe's patrols, Harad's anger, it all should have been apparent that something was brewing. And I missed it all. But to lock me away from Haldir and the fight! Éowyn, I have fought beside them since I was young, wielding sword and spear as well as the youngest marshals. Accepted and welcomed. And now they drag me away. They did not allow me a moment to see if Haldir lived, telling me that this was not my fight."
Éowyn slid back away from her, dropping her hands to her lap. "You must have faith. Do not dwell on the chance that he is gone. You don't know everything. Your answers will become clear to you when the time is right. The only thing you can do now is wait, and decide what you will do when Haldir crosses through that door. For it was he, Mairen, that asked for you, and it is the March Warden of Lothlórien that you accepted to wed.
Rumil bent over Haldir, reaching out with concern when the March Warden opened his eyes with a quiet gasp and sat up. Rumil crouched down beside him, mindless of the chaotic battle raging around them, with great relief.
"I feared you were dead for a moment."
Haldir gripped Rumil's shoulder, using the elf for leverage to stand with a faint groan. "I have too much live for, Rumil, to allow the Valar their games as yet." He smiled faintly if a bit painfully as he stood, accepting the bow Loriel held out to him. Around them the Anorien soldiers were being disarmed and Harad surrounded by a bevy of Rohirrim spears. Haldir took a step forward but Rumil held him back with a hand on his shoulder.
"Éomer will deal with him, Haldir. You may be alive, but you are in no shape to fight the man."
Haldir's eyes narrowed, his lips tight, but he said nothing merely brushed past Rumil silently. Rumil turned to watch him press through the crowd with a slight shake of his head.
"He is stubborn. What injuries do you think he has taken with that kick?" Loriel reflected quietly as she pulled an arrow from her quiver, smoothing her fingers down the lean shaft. She sent a brief frown toward Rumil as he sighed heavily.
"I am sure the effort to lift his sword will be extremely painful, yet he would do it if necessary. What wounds he has taken remain to be seen, he will not reveal them to the Rohirrim." Rumil watched closely as Harad was being pushed backwards, the Rohan warriors making way for Éomer. Haldir had paused on the edge of the crowd, folding his arms over his chest.
"He acts like it was nothing."
"He always does, Loriel." Rumil stood behind Haldir, watching the scene play out before them. Harad was bent warily, sword held out defensively as Éomer stopped in front of him. Faramir made his way to Haldir's side, followed closely by Gamling and Rolfe as Harad whirled frantically, his sword clattering against the spear points that gleamed only a few feet from him.
Rumil gripped the smooth wood of his bow, held close ready at the slightest provocation from the Anorien, as most of the elves did, nearly hidden among the Rohirrim. Loriel touched Rumil's sleeve, bringing his attention to the tall Rohan marshal as Rolfe sent a discreet glance toward Haldir.
His quick look back at Rumil received a faint nod, Rumil's assurance that Haldir was indeed injured and the Rohirran's disproval was clear as he turned back to the scene before them. Harad leered at Éomer, his eyes clearly lit by madness. Harad glared at the king as he spat on the ground at Éomer's feet.
"It was to be mine, all of it mine, promised to me."
Éomer's brows drew together, his hand resting carefully on his hip. "Indeed? I think this shall end now, Harad. Your promises were falsely given; you have been deceived like the rest of us."
Harad stiffened angrily, his movements desperate as he threw aside his sword. "You will rue the day you bartered with the elves for their allegiance." He whirled to face Haldir and found Rolfe and Faramir stepping forward to block his view. He waved them off with a sneer, returning his glare to Éomer. "Mortals are meant to rule this world. I … was meant to rule. But you," his words were nearly slurred as he shook his fist at Éomer. "You and Theoden nearly destroyed us, fighting against the greater powers of Saruman and Mordor! We should have never went to Helm's Deep, nor allowed the elves inside the fortress." He drew his hand across his mouth, stepping back as Éomer scowled, drawing his sword from his hip to tap the point against Harad's chest.
"The elves have aided Rohan at great cost. I hold them in the highest esteem and if such an allegiance can be made, I would be a fool not to accept it. You have tried to destroy our people; it is you who will pay the price for such treason."
Rumil found Éomer's command of his temper admirable, familiar in a way. Haldir also controlled a deeply buried fury toward the Anorien. The man had nearly killed Mairen, for that he would never be forgiven.
Harad laughed, shaking his head and then stepped forward suddenly, knocking aside Éomer's sword. "The maid is not worthy of any bargain," he growled, shifting a disdainful gaze toward Haldir and then back to Éomer.
"You should have never been king; you will be weak like Theoden! He was nearly spent, his destiny to die a wreck of a man, his mind lost to a stronger power. I would have taken the mantle that should never have been yours." He turned around, glaring at the men surrounding him. "He will lead you to your deaths, if not today then soon. The elves should have left long ago; they do not deserve our support. They will leave you all to die while they save themselves, sailing to the west while we struggle here. Fools! Can you not see it?"
Harad spun rapidly toward Éomer, his eyes insanely bright as he leaped forward; gripping a slim dagger he had hidden in his outstretched hand. But before the blade could come near the Rohan King, Harad twisted sideways, clutching an arrow that pierced his chest and drove him backward against the men around him. Harad staggered a few steps, dropping his dagger with a grimace and then sank slowly to his knees, struggling to breathe.
Éomer turned slowly toward Haldir in surprise, but Haldir merely dipped his head and then stepped aside, as did Rumil, to reveal Loriel, still in her stance, bow held tightly in her hand.
"He threatened a king; he deserved to die," she stated decisively, dropping the bow to her side.
The Horse Lord nodded sagely and turned back to Harad, who hade rocked back onto his heels. "Your judgment has been met, Harad. I will hope the hell you find yourself in has no elves." Harad's eyes widened in horror, and then with a gasp he fell forward at the king's feet.
Loriel shouldered her bow, following the two wardens ahead of her up the steps of the Golden Hall shrouded in a gloomy mist as the clouds grew heavy with moisture. The day had grown cold and chill, yet the hall gleamed, the gilded images of god and ancestor burnished even in the damp air. Ahead, the two paused as a throng crowded the heavy wooden doors, thrown open to welcome the victorious protectors of the realm, both elf and human. But the two elves drew back for a moment, and she noted absently that Haldir favored his side with his hand resting not on his sword as was his custom, but his hip.
"They celebrate quickly," Rumil noted with a faint grin, gesturing toward the boisterous crowd at the door.
Haldir smoothed the folds of his cloak at his throat, the scarlet fabric muted by the mist, darkened to a deep red. "The Rohirrim appreciate any reason to raise a mug of ale. But this is well deserved."
Rumil folded his arms over his chest, glancing back at Loriel with a lift of his brow. "Indeed, I fear Haldir will find a few mugs toasted on his behalf." He winked at Loriel, yet the elf's blue eyes were dark with worry as he turned to smile at Haldir.
Loriel allowed a small smile, amused to know that was only too true. "Indeed," she teased. "Will it be because he has survived a kick from a Rohirran warhorse with hardly a bruise or limp to show, or because he is courageous enough to bond to a warrior brave as he, that shall be the question?" She drew closer to Haldir, ignoring the icy gaze that settled on her to rest her hand on his arm.
Haldir's gaze did not flicker, but his left eyebrow rose slightly. "What they do not know will not hurt them, Loriel."
She shrugged indifferently, noting the stiffness of muscle beneath her fingers. "That is true, Haldir. But how long will you be able to control the pain of a few broken ribs? From what I have heard of the Rohirrim, celebrations such as they enjoy last the night."
Haldir glowered, the only description of the look he gave her, and then rubbed his side. "I shall endure, warden, have no fear. There is the matter of Mairen to see to. I will not rest until I have spoken to her." He gathered the edges of his cloak, brushing it back over his shoulder. "The answer as to how I may escape the gathering we face will come later, but for now I see Orophin rides in with Mairen's brother, Renny." He turned, facing the steps they had so recently mounted as shouts sounded from the palisade walls and a crisp group of riders ducked under the low gates of Edoras.
Loriel waited beside Haldir as Éomer met the horsemen, accepting the salute from the stalwart captain with a grin.
"The danger has been averted; the enemy destroyed cleanly," Renny announced as he dismounted, glancing behind him to Orophin. "But I cannot take all the credit, as we decimated most of the orcs by arrow alone. The wretches had no clue they were found."
Orophin slid off his horse, landing silently on the ground with a bow of his head. "The orcs were hidden in a valley just over the rise, awaiting a signal that never came. But not all were destroyed by elvish shafts, but Rohirrim as well." He smiled at Renny, his blue eyes narrowed against the mist that now fell as a light rain. "Your men are fearless, your horses even worse. In the end only but a few of our warriors were injured in the rout."
Éomer slapped Renny soundly on the back smugly. "Well done, as I expected. It is an excellent pairing I say, man and elf?"
Orophin's gaze slid to Haldir as Renny turned to the tall March Warden. "Indeed, an excellent pairing indeed."
Mairen tapped her fingers on the table before her, forcing herself to remain seated, ignoring the jovial laughter of the men that paraded before her. How many had entered the hall, shouting and laughing. How many had not spoken one word whether Haldir lived.
Well, she would not ask. She couldn't. She sank her head into her hands. What about her brothers? Had they survived the battle as well? She knew they were most likely fine. All four seemed to have a tenacious grip on life, too stubborn to give in to fate.
Did she as well? How long would she live, fifty years, seventy, a hundred? She was not sure just what it would be. At any rate, it would be a long time for regret and to forget.
A heavy rattle of armor and the rank odor of sweat and damp leather accosted her nose as someone sat next to her. A familiar chuckle and a mug pressed between her hands made her slowly look up.
"Willem?"
"Pouting, Mairen?"
"I do not pout."
The Rohan warrior grinned, his blue eyes glittering as a drop of rain water clung to his eyelash. He blinked, rubbing the offending eye and then buried his nose inside his mug.
"You pout all the time," was the muffled reply, echoed oddly by the metal cup.
Mairen turned toward Willem, leaning forward to slap the bottom of his mug with her fingers. Ale gushed forward, cascading over the lip of the goblet, dripping down Willem's chin as he lowered it with a growl wiping the ale from his lips. "
"That … was not necessary."
She shrugged, turning back toward the table but Willem reached out, grasping her arm. "What ails you, little sister?"
She gave him an annoyed glance, hoping her fear regarding Haldir was not evident. "You have to ask?"
Willem settled the mug in the crook of his arm, smoothing his fingers over his chin. "I guess my memory is not as sharp as it was, unlike my eyesight."
She rolled her eyes, aware he was in a teasing mood. She stood up, wrenching her arm from his grasp. "You have not even mentioned if Haldir lives… I.."
A strong grip on her elbow had her sitting back down in a rush. "I wondered how long it would take you to ask?"
She glared at him finding Willem's expression only one of amusement. "So he is dead?"
Willem's expression softened and he leaned toward her. "You have a low opinion of me if you think I would allow you to suffer needlessly," he protested.
Mairen snorted rudely. "Is that so? Did you know I believed it was Harad to who I was to be wed?"
Willem's eyes widened. "Harad? Over my dead body."
She stared at him sourly. "It might yet be."
Willem set the mug on the table and faced her. "It would never have been Harad. And you know as well as I, it is not. Éomer said as much in the hall when the elves arrived with Rolfe."
"Then who, Willem?"
He arched a brow. "Who else, Mairen? Stop fooling yourself and accept it. It is what you've wanted all along. Admit it and be done with the whole affair." The Rohirran sighed, sliding back to face the table, tipping the mug in his hands. "Perhaps because we are so close, you and I, Rolfe felt he could not tell me knowing I could not hold back something so important. My trial has been to spend the last few months on patrol, unable to speak with neither you, nor he for more than a few moments."
Mairen had to admit this was true. She'd hardly seen any of her brothers. She looked up as a large hand settled over hers.
"But he lives, as he somehow always manages to do. Kicked by a destrier that would have sent another tumbling head over heels, he instead walks easily, if not a bit stiffly. He has not his usual grace."
Mairen felt a flood of relief wash over her. She took in a wavering breath and felt Willem squeeze her hand. "Thank you," she said thickly, trying hard to control the emotion.
Willem shrugged, burying his nose again in the mug. "Tis not I you should thank, but the Valar. Besides, he comes inside you can see for yourself he lives."
Mairen stiffened and without realizing it, stood up as she had done once before, amidst a multitude of cheerful warriors. She found her gaze drawn to the tall elf before her, draped in scarlet and gold with damp hair clinging to his back as he crossed into the warmth of the hall. His eyes searched until they met hers with a steely determination that made her nearly breathless.
'What will you do, Mairen?' The silent question arose in her mind clearly.
Relief turned into consternation as Haldir turned slightly, holding out the slim elvish blade she had dropped. Mairen reached for her hip and realized in horror that the weapon so often encased there was missing and looked up to find the March Warden still as he was, but a faint lift of a brow sent a clear challenge.
'If you want it, Mairen, you must come and get it.'
Had she heard him or had his taunt been only in her mind? Mairen felt Willem stand up beside her, but she ignored him stepping away from the table as Haldir stood yet in the doorway. Loriel, Rumil and Orophin moved back, leaving him framed by the darkness outside, illuminated by the fires within the hall.
If you want it come and get it.
Did she want the sword, or more importantly, did she want him?
The answer was tangible, a taste of honey on her tongue. She moved around the table to stand a few feet from him.
"Tis mine."
Haldir glanced at the slim blade. "Indeed, made for you long years ago before you were called Mairen."
"That is an old story."
"Told in my lands, but yours?" he asked wryly, glancing at the men around him.
Mairen felt more than saw the men turn around to look. "Does it matter?"
"Do they consider what you have become, the clues that point to where your path lies?"
She stared at the slim blade in his hand, the strong fingers wrapped so easily around it, holding it just out of her reach. "I think they know better than I have at times."
She heard him take a shallow breath. "Indeed? Have you been so blind?"
She kept her eyes on the sword, knowing once she met those silver eyes she would be lost. "I have been more than blind, but no more."
The blade came closer as he drew near. Long fingers brushed her chin forcing her to look up at him. "What do you then see?"
His eyes glittered, challenging her to answer truthfully. "I see you, Haldir. I see that you have come for me as you said once you would. But not in this lifetime, but another before, when I was Seothlindë."
She smiled, grasping his fingers from her chin and pressing them lightly to her lips. "I have forgotten perhaps the night we were together," she began, forcing her words out, bringing up a memory that had lain just inside her thoughts, a niggling whisper that had flickered at the edge of her mind. "The ocean was calm for once, the night bright with a moon so large I thought it might fall from the sky it seemed so heavy. The rays illuminated the water, glittering bands of silver etched in starlight. I prayed that night, to Elbereth, to send me a sign."
Haldir's lips curved slightly, his eyes holding hers, the sword still held between them. "The water was warm, but the maid in my sights cool to me, unsure of what it was she saw for a moment."
Mairen felt the laughter bubble up in her throat, nearly breaking free. "Indeed, I had prayed for a god and what arose before me was but a silver-haired elf instead."
Haldir stepped closer again, the sword nearly pressed between them. "A lesser gift?" he asked quietly, his eyes searching hers.
Mairen closed her eyes against the pull of his gaze, savoring rather the memory of skin glistening with the sheen of sea water, strong arms and chest, hips and below barely hidden by the shadowy waves. Shivering slightly she opened her eyes again. "Nay, you were never that, only an answer to a belief that I belonged with you. But one at that time I was not truly ready for."
"And now?" Haldir's head tilted slightly, and behind him she caught sight of Rolfe and Willem, arms folded as they watched closely.
"And now, the answer lies before me yet again, if I only open my eyes to see."
The sword settled heavily into her hand, his fingers wrapping around hers as she grasped it tightly. "There are reasons why we ask things we do, why we are given commands that perhaps are not to our liking. We cannot question them."
"I know that."
"But there are times when we must question and not answer blindly."
"A good lesson learned perhaps."
"A painful one that was not necessary."
She blinked as the tears suddenly welled behind her eyes. "That is true."
"And your answer?"
She bowed her head to take in a deep breath, and found Eamon a step away, with Renny. Her brothers would accept whatever she decided. "I have accepted- that does not change."
Strong fingers gripped her chin and she was suddenly aware they were the center of attention once again. How many times had she drawn the Rohirrim around her, shocking them, questioning their lives, their ideals, revealing her differences? Haldir forced her to look at him, only his fingers touching her.
"I would have you answer truthfully. Not for Rohan, nor me. But for you."
His fingers she realized in surprise were trembling. Faintly, hardly noticeable but for the thrumming she felt on her skin. "My answer is I would have you, Haldir. If that is what you truly want."
His answer was not so gently given. With a relieved sigh she was dragged against his chest as his lips claimed hers in a fierce kiss, bruising her lips but she found she didn't care. The feel of him brought on a rush of memory, the sensation of his hand on her neck, his smooth skin against hers brought a night forgotten into such a clear image of clarity that she gasped, breaking his kiss but unable to step out of his embrace.
Grey eyes gleamed with a knowing satisfaction, understanding immediately she had remembered. A pair of hands on Haldir's shoulders interrupted the stare, drawing them apart abruptly.
"Now that that is all taken care of without anyone getting hurt, although I had my doubts when you gave her the sword back," Rolfe announced dryly, forcefully shoving himself between them. "What I want to know is just what you meant by that fascinating… little story."
Mairen could see Haldir was not going to get near her again as her brothers had surrounded the March Warden with faces sternly disapproving. "Rolfe, let me explain."
Rolfe looked over his shoulder with a shake of his head. "Nay, I think Haldir will explain."
Mairen settled her hands on her hips, brushing aside the lingering memories that now crowded her mind with a faint blush. "It doesn't matter, Rolfe. It was a long time ago."
"Before you were born," Haldir agreed with a lift of his chin.
Rolfe turned back to the elf. "Don't try to confuse me. It sounds pretty suspicious; Mairen has never been to the sea."
Mairen sighed, resting a hand on Rolfe's arm. "Nay, but when I was Seothlindë I lived near the sea."
Rolfe chewed on his lip, his thoughts clearly confused. "Ah, this second life thing. So you and he already… you…" a deep frown creased his forehead.
She didn't dare tell him it was much more recent. "Nay, we did not do what you are thinking. What kind of girl do you think I am?" She laughed, trying to step around Willem who conveniently moved in her way. "Haldir is not at fault, leave him be."
Rolfe eyed the March Warden and instead of backing off, grasped his cloak. "I don't like this."
Haldir's grip on Rolfe's fingers made the Rohan marshal wince and the cloak was quickly released. "It matters not, the decision was never yours," Haldir stated firmly, brushing the cloak back over his shoulder.
Rolfe glanced at the two elves standing casually a few feet away. "Aren't they going to come to your defense?"
Haldir's lips curved into a wry smile. "They have no need."
"So you will admit that you have never touched my sister intimately." Rolfe folded his arms over his chest, watching closely as Haldir met his gaze calmly.
"And if I cannot?"
Mairen sighed, shaking her head.
Rolfe's eyes narrowed to slits. "Then I shall have to kill you."
Haldir bowed his head slightly. "How would you like to try?"
Mairen threw up her hands. "Stop this. I have accepted Haldir's proposal, my wedding is tomorrow and you will not kill my intended."
Rolfe gripped her arm, drawing her a few steps away. "Mairen it is your honor here that we ..."
"My honor is firmly in tack. I am no blushing maid of fifteen to be paraded as a virgin. Your outrage is unnecessary. It was by my choice alone."
"And Haldir had nothing to do with it?" Rolfe snorted.
"Of course he did, the chase was indeed a merry one. But that is beyond the point. You will not spar with him tonight."
Rolfe suddenly sighed, leaning an arm heavily on her shoulder. "You take all the fun out of it, Mairen."
She shoved off his arm. "Aye, I know your tricks. You'll not play them on Haldir."
The Rohirrim sent an amused glance at her remaining brothers. "No? But I think it only fair for the elf to understand just what he's getting into."
Mairen bit her lip as the four turned toward Haldir.
The room was crowded, those who had fought filling every table, chair and bench, those who had been protected or too ill and injured to fight filled remaining floor space so one could hardly move, let alone breathe in the smoke filled hall.
Haldir leaned back against the large post, surveying the large mug pressed into his hand with distaste. A glance at the group of Rohirrim standing next to the reeking barrel of ale assured him his choice of drink was not going to change anytime soon.
Éomer was leaning next to him, shaking his head. "Rolfe, we have already seen the effects of ale upon the fairer race. Out-drinking that spindly prince of Mirkwood is certainly not going to be a problem for Haldir."
Rolfe shrugged, handing another mug to Willem. "So you think our traditional toasts for the health of the maid in question not deserving, my lord?"
Éomer sent an amused glance toward Haldir with a –I tried to help- expression. "Indeed, no. I believe of anyone these two shall need all the help they can get." He snorted quietly and nodded to Haldir before slipping into the crowd.
Rolfe raised his tankard high. "I agree. Who ever said marrying an elf was going to be easy?"
Haldir lifted one brow, muttering under his breath. "I think it more the Rohirrim end of it."
"So will you drink? Or does the ale turn your tongue."
"Green!" another warrior belched.
"Ah, tis no fun to bait this one," someone else called out. "He's too cool, that one. Better to bait Mairen. She will rise to fight!"
Rolfe sipped his ale thoughtfully. "That is most likely true." He grinned, waving the mug at Haldir. "But I think nay, our March Warden here should join us."
Haldir stared at the frothy liquid briefly and then lifted the mug to clank with Rolfe's. "Here is to having brothers, four too many, I might add." He lifted the tankard to his lips as the men around him laughed, but then eyed Rolfe as the man frowned suddenly.
"I think that was an insult, Haldir."
The March Warden smiled into his mug.
Galadriel brushed her fingers gently across the surface of the water, dispersing the image, watching as the tiny waves dissolved the picture until the surface calmed, leaving only her reflection staring back at her. She drew back, sliding her sleeves from her wrists, clasping her hands as she pondered the mirror's answers to her questions. How much could she trust it? Her magic of late seemed sketchy, answers forthcoming with great difficulty, if they were answers at all.
Had Haldir arrived safely? A nagging sense of doubt hovered in the back of her mind. Had the Rohan accepted the bargain as they had said? Did Haldir return even now with Mairen?
She shook her head. No, the wedding was slated for this evening. A ceremony for the Rohirrim, an appeasement that the woman was not just being carried off to be Haldir's mistress. It was a show of respect for her status and who she was. It mattered little, this ceremony, for the real bonding had already taken place. She smiled faintly. Did either realize it at all?
Haldir had pushed aside the knowledge; his fears and distress the next morning had made him forget. Or did he? Her warden was so often closed, his emotions hidden even from her. Mairen certainly did not remember; the Valar had hidden that from her mind. Too soon, it had happened too soon and the stress of both her reawakening and a bonding might have pushed her too far.
Haldir, she knew, had not intended such a bonding and perhaps was a reason why he did not completely realize that they had done so. The Valar had so often played with Haldir and Mairen; Galadriel wondered if they even realized what paths they had set the two on.
It seemed unnatural that an elf would not know, yet she had seen the signs although few others would have. Only in that brief vulnerable moment when Haldir had carried the unconscious Rohan maid to the healing tent had she seen that glimmer in his eyes, quickly replaced by fear and self loathing. Mairen's reaction to their night together had given rise to his fear that he had forced her into the changes too soon. But Mairen had known, if not all, what might transpire.
The time for both to reawaken, to finally connect was at hand.
That niggling doubt flared in her mind. If - they had arrived safely. More was at work than a simple marriage between two kindred souls. Nay, there was yet a battle to be played out. Haldir had known this as well. There always seemed to be that extra aspect of danger, of a chance for a life to be cut short between them. Was it to make their union that much more important? Or perhaps it was a way to help an elf understand the implications of what a mortal must face when loving an elf. But was she mortal? They did not yet know the answer to that question. She had to believe Mairen's fëa would control such destiny.
A touch on her cheek brought her out of her introspection.
"You worry too much."
"It is all I have of late, Celeborn."
"She is well, I can sense it still."
Galadriel moved away from the mirror, her gown trailing behind her. "The questions only create more questions, with few answers."
Celeborn drew closer, wrapping an arm around her waist to draw her against him. "Then you must leave behind the questions and do what we must do and that is to wait. This is in the hands of the Valar, as it has been since the beginning. We are only bystanders, watching the story unravel before us. What will be, will be?"
"Your strength is unwavering. I wonder where you draw it from?"
Celeborn kissed her cheek. "From you, my love. We are as one, as Haldir and Mairen will be. You must have faith."
"Indeed. Trust in the Valar?" She smiled, drawing her fingers along his jaw. "They brought me to you."
Celeborn pressed his cheek into her hand. "Indeed, my greatest treasure. This will end well, have no doubt."
"Have you felt her at all?"
Celeborn closed his eyes. "Only a sense of her, nothing emotional, merely that she lives as yet. The problems facing the Rohan are nothing. They will deal with it as they do, it is their time."
Galadriel slid her arms over his shoulders, looking deep into the dark blue depths of Celeborn's eyes. "It is their time and ours draws soon to a close."
Celeborn pulled her against him, holding her tightly. "It comes too soon. I am not yet ready to leave, Galadriel."
She drew back, holding onto his arms. "Nay, not just yet. We have time, Celeborn of Doriath. Come, let us make good use of our time." She smiled coyly, taking his hand to pull him toward the stairs rising out of the shadowy grotto.
Celeborn grinned, scooping her up into his arms. "Indeed, we have much time but yet we must use it wisely. Her laughter echoed amid the stones, the mirror shimmering slightly, the water forgotten. But an image appeared, misty in the depths although no one saw it. An image of two who watched unseen.
Loriel sat on the thick mattress of Mairen's bed, studying the array of gowns laid out shaking her head mournfully. "They will not do, Mairen. You will look like an old maid."
Mairen laughed, holding up a dull grey gown. "But I am an old maid, by Rohan standards. Should I not dress the part?"
Loriel pursed her lips, her blue eyes twinkling. "If you wish to dress the part, my lady Mairen, then I shall have need to run back to Lórien for the correct attire."
Mairen tossed the dress on the bed with a faint laugh. "Not if you're thinking of one of your gowns. I would have the whole of Rolfe's patrol standing between me and Haldir. Indeed, I would be lucky to step foot from my room."
Loriel clucked her tongue. "Men! They enjoy the view, yet are unwilling for others to appreciate it." She chuckled suddenly, leaning over her folded knees. "Although I have no doubt you could very well include Haldir in that group as well." She grinned and flipped through a few more layers of fabric and then paused, reaching for a pale gold dress hidden on the bottom.
"What is this? The color suits you."
Mairen turned from the window, she had been easing away from the bed and Loriel was certain the maid's mind was not on choosing a dress. "Oh that? It was my mother's. I had forgotten I still had some of her clothes. I have no idea what it looks like."
Loriel pulled the garment from beneath the others and held it up. The fabric gleamed, heavy and formal, yet the cut was simple with a flared skirt and low neckline. "This does seem promising. It is heavy but the lines are clean."
Mairen gathered the dress, holding it up to her cheek. "I don't remember her wearing it, but then I don't remember her much at all it's been so long." She sighed and turned to the mirror, holding up the dress to her shoulders. "Do you ever forget, Loriel?"
The elleth shook her head, her reflection in the mirror made Mairen look over her shoulder. Loriel was staring at her, yet her eyes were distant. "Forget? Elves never forget, Mairen, as you will find out."
Mairen frowned and then turned back to the mirror. "I don't know if that is good or not." She laughed wryly and then threw the dress at Loriel. "At any rate I think I shall just wear my armor; do you not think it will suit just as well?"
Loriel caught the dress, leaping from the bed gracefully. "No, it does not. You will wear a dress, for Haldir. You are not just a warrior and tonight you will prove it again to him, and to your brothers and all of Rohan."
Haldir sat against the back of the stall, having found the narrow confines of the pen one of the few where he had found some small measure of peace, his horse contentedly munching on the hay he'd given him a few moments earlier. The day was sunny and sunlight streamed from the high windows over the stalls, the rays illuminating the dust mites that drifted in the warmth of the light.
He settled into the straw lying back to rest a hand on his ribs. Two were definitely broken, if not more. The effort to breathe was becoming difficult. He should have allowed Orophin the time to heal him last night, yet he'd been unable to find an escape from the four Rohan brothers so intent on making the night last forever. Where had Mairen gone? He worried, yet he knew she was not far.
Rumil and Orophin had chosen to remain close by, yet not within the narrow group of men. Haldir had matched toast for toast, trading insult for insult, returning many with good-natured jesting. Had they understood the depths he had gone to, allowing the four to taunt him openly, without consequence. It was a rare opportunity that few if any were ever allowed, except perhaps his brothers.
It was necessary, he supposed, if he wished to take Mairen from them. They would never allow her to leave, had they thought she would not find the happiness they wanted her to have.
This gave them in their minds the right to harass him, attempt to get him drunk, and ply him with more questions than Galadriel could imagine in a hundred years. He groaned, pushing the rib most paining him back into place with a gasp. The Valar take him, he grew tired of the closeness, wishing only for the cool breezes of Lórien amid the green tinged leaves. The dull color of the plains, the last clutches of winter here made the elvish lands even more enticing. Mairen would grow to love them as much as she did the bleak harsh lands here.
"I can aid you if you would but ask?" Orophin rested his arms on the stall door, looking over the side to where Haldir was lying amid the hay.
Haldir sat up slowly. "Had I but a moment to do so, I would have. The Rohirrim drink nearly as much as the dwarves." He moved over as Orophin sank down next to him.
"Rumil was concerned. Their ale is a thick brew to swallow. He was afraid after three or four your light constitution would not handle such punishment." He snickered, pushing Haldir back against the wooden partition.
"I suppose you had wine?"
"A fine red, I would say treasured by Éomer. His offer of the drink was taken gladly for the ale turned my nose, had it reached my tongue I am not sure I would have been as stoic as you to actually swallow it."
Haldir laughed painfully. "A lesson one must learn to accept if one is an emissary to the Lady of Light. Had I refused I would have insulted not only Mairen's brothers, but the whole of the Rohirrim cavalry, and then all would have seen to it that I'd not see a hair of Mairen's head in a month of full moons."
"Do these men frighten you so, Haldir?" Orophin grinned, but he placed his hands on Haldir's chest as Haldir closed his eyes.
"You know better than that. I will not face any more obstacles when it comes to Mairen. She will be with me when I leave Edoras, she will be at my side if I have to fight my way out, with her approval or not."
Haldir could feel the tendrils of heat flow from Orophin's fingers, easing his pain. He took a deep breath, gripping the elf's shoulder as the magic flowed deeper, becoming one with his soul, melding into his very bones.
Orophin let go, sitting back on his heels. "The day will end with you tied not only by elven standards but Rohan as well. The journey has been long, but the end is in sight."
Haldir clapped a hand on Orophin's arm. "Indeed. But I shall lie here for a while. Search for her and see that she is well." He settled back into the straw, aware that Orophin was studying him. "What is it?"
"Nothing, Haldir." A hand brushed his forehead and without a chance to complain, Haldir felt the rush of sleep overtake him.
Orophin leaned against the wall of the stables, arms folded as he watched the bustle around him. Repairs were being rapidly made from the damages of yesterday. Men rushed about, carrying everything from logs to food to armor to be cleaned and polished. Children rushed about screaming, reenacting the battle while goats and chickens ambled about, tripping the would-be warriors sprawling into the dirt.
The elf reached down, hauling one unsuccessful warrior up from the icy mud. "The fiercest orcs find odd ways to gain advantage. But a true warrior will always put the thought of embarrassment aside and jump right back into battle."
The young man brushed at the mud with a grin. "Dang orcs! Never saw him coming." He kicked at the goat now trying to chew on his leather armor.
Orophin frowned, crouching to become level with the boy. "You should always try to be aware, young master. Orcs are devious; they play tricks and will rarely come at you from the open. It is to your advantage to scan the road before you, anticipating where the enemy might be hidden. And if accosted, as the best of us can be, then you must be strong and fall back on your skills. And have faith that the day will end well."
The young man bowed and then stepped back, shoving aside the goat. "Like Haldir did, when Mairen saved him?" The warrior-boy shook his head with a snort. "Saved by a girl."
The elf, far quicker than the boy could imagine, caught him by the shoulder as the boy turned away. "A girl?" Orophin argued. "Not a girl, but a warrior as much as any man among you. Had she not been aware, as I have explained, then yes, my brother Haldir would now be among those in the Halls of Mandos. I for one am thankful the girl had the ears of a fox and the eyes of an eagle. Had she not I would have been dealt a great loss."
The boy frowned, kicking at the dirt. "But they are still girls. They should be cleaning, doing women's work."
Orophin crouched again in front of the boy. "They should be doing what the gods wish them to do. What skills have you, young master? Should you be the stable boy, cleaning after the animals? Nay, I see that you wish to ride the plains, fighting those that harrow your lands. Would you wish another choice to be pressed upon you?"
The boy shook his head. "So if the girls can fight we should let them?"
Orophin smiled. "If that is what they wish to do. Not many find that role appealing."
The boy sighed, turning as a few friends called out to him. "I must go."
"Do not let me keep you then."
The boy ran a few steps and then stopped. "Will she follow Haldir then?"
Orophin rose gracefully to his feet. "Yes, she chose that path a long time ago, only did not realize it."
The boy scuffed his boot in the mud. "I think she should have gone a long time ago. She played with me and my friends before…" he squinted into the sun for a moment. "Before she became sick. I guess I really don't mind girls being warriors. Mairen taught us a lot."
Orophin smiled, waving as the boy shrugged and turned back to his friends. "Indeed, Mairen has taught us all to follow our dreams."
Mairen sank against the door, alone finally, dressed in her mother's gown yet shivering with anticipation. Shivering as the thoughts of what would happen, of what had happened, and most of all, shivering with the memory of her night with Haldir.
How she could have forgotten such a night? And how easily the memory was revealed by the very elf who had given her both? Just as he had triggered her final recovery, his kiss had awakened the shadowy past, drawn aside the black curtain of forgetfulness in an instant.
How she faced the remaining day and night with those thoughts churning in her mind made her laugh. How many times had questions, so innocently given been rewarded with an unseemly answer? How many odd looks had she received as her mind wandered, not with fearful anticipation as some suspected of the ceremony to come, but more with the heat inducing memories of a night with an elf.
She rubbed her cheeks, aware that they even now were flushed with a blush as she sank down to her feet. Soon she would be alone again with Haldir, caught in his net, ensnared once more by those silver eyes. She sighed aware that her nerves even now tingled with anticipation, her fingers itching to feel the softness of his skin.
His skin was so deceptively soft. Gilded with moonlight, gleaming under a starlit sky, it was velvet to the touch, yet beneath lay muscles toned by years of sword play and fighting. Yet tenderly had he caressed her, his fingers barely brushing her skin, eliciting a reaction she could not control, even now.
How could she walk through a ceremony of such reverence, with the image of Haldir, hair glistening in the starlight, eyes smoldering with a heat that flared as she returned his touch. The images would become tantalizing, the memories sweeping her away, making her forget just where she was. She would be frozen, lost in her thoughts. Would he know? Of course, Haldir had understood the instant she remembered. His smile had said as much.
She sighed faintly, plucking at her dress. Her brothers had easily kept them apart. It had been a Rohirran tradition that the eve of a wedding be spent in drink. She was sure Haldir handled the evening with his usual aplomb. The elf would have most likely lasted long past all four of her brothers. Had they enjoyed their games? Had he suffered their intentions stoically as she believed he would? There had been no news of any fighting. That in itself was a rarity for the Rohirrim on such a night.
But it did not matter, for the day was past. The more important ceremony loomed only an hour away.
A journey of two lifetimes was coming to an end.
Mairen rose to her feet, brushing off her skirt, as well as pushing aside the tempting memory of Haldir. He would be before her in the flesh, not just a memory to hold dear. It was time to meet her destiny head on, to accept the gifts given her by the Valar.
A gift she was not going to refuse again.
It was time.