A/N Huge plot twist in this ch!
We arrived in Edoras only a few hours before the men who rode to Isengard, I knew we traveled slowly, but didn't realize it was that slow.
I avoided Éowyn since our conversation that night, I didn't want to face the truth nor did I want her to bluntly force me to face it. My pondering only led to more pondering and the realization that the thing I wanted was right in front of me. Every single person I have ever met has either used a nickname for me based on my appearance or given me one themselves, well-meaning or not. All except Legolas. To him I was always Lady Calliope or just Calliope, even in his frustration he never stooped low enough to call me an ugly cow, he treated me the way I craved, and when the horn sounded and their cavalry raced up the steps of the city I found myself anxiously trying to spot his blonde head.
It was common in Middle-Earth to have a name based on appearances; Galadriel loosely translates to Maiden crowned with gleaming hair.
The Wardens set off as soon as the Riddermark horses came into view, many of the Elves were anxious to return home. Barasil urged me to accompany them several times, trying to remind me of the good times we shared under the canopy, when that didn't work he tried a different approach, begging.
I knew I would be useful there, and I wanted to return home, but something about him wanting me to go made me not want to. He was the last Elf to depart, "Please Calli," he begged again.
"I'll be home soon," I replied sitting down on the same spot I had found myself before on the great stone steps of Meduseld. I felt torn watching the Elves march along the plains, Barasil never turned back and I'm glad for it. He would have seen the tears that coated my cheeks that poured from my uncertain eyes.
Would Legolas find me foolish for staying? Would he argue with me and call me a child? I watched the procession and again chastised myself, I'm almost 25, yet I didn't feel I could enter the Golden Hall without intruding. The sound of hooves echoed through the city, with it a cadence of cheers and cries from those the soldiers passed.
The horse's manes and tails flowed like silken banners in the breeze, a testament to the meticulous care and grooming lavished upon them. I stood then as the steps became crowded with those awaiting husbands and loved ones from the front.
Tears of joy flowed freely, their expressions a mix of sheer relief and overwhelming happiness. "You came back," A woman next to me said, her voice cracked as she ran into the fray of horses her eyes centered on a bearded man that paused the entire procession behind him in order to embrace her.
With unrestrained enthusiasm, children ran forward, their faces beaming with delight, to greet their fathers. Their tiny arms reached out, yearning for the warmth of a father's embrace, and their laughter echoed like music through the streets. Horse and rider halted, and fathers swung down from their steeds, their eyes lighting up with love and pride as they scooped their children into their arms.
The procession dwindled as loved ones picked off soldiers one by one and dragged them home, only a handful remained and I could spot the one I awaited for easily.
His eyes were searching the landscape for something, roving continuously; he had a deep frown on his face that disappeared when his eyes landed on me. They held my gaze as he dismounted, even when Gimli who rode the horse behind him made a comment to him about enchanting the horse he didn't even glance in his direction.
It was then that I realized, I was at falling in love with him if I wasn't already there. Legolas saw me, he didn't see the spots, he saw the foolish child, he saw my faults and even when I infuriated him he didn't look away. But he was bonded.
"How was your trip?" I had awkwardly asked when he finally stood in front of me before he had a chance to answer my awful attempt at communication I was tackled by two Hobbits. How was your trip? Calli?! He went to war!
"Wha-" I started to say.
"Milady, milady!" Pippin and Merry both exclaimed.
"It is good you are here, you can settle a debate for us." Merry pulled away and grinned smugly.
"Notice anything different Milady?" Pippin drawled taking a step back and gesturing to himself.
I tilted my head to the side, "your hair is longer?" I offered.
Gimli laughed finally getting off the saddle and joining us on the steps, "Lad even a Seer doesn't see the height difference,"
I blinked then assessed him once more, he did look taller, almost at eye level with me. "Did you stuff your boots?" I asked.
"Ent-draught," Merry answered with an air of nonchalance.
Éowyn came out onto the crowded steps then, "Pray allow me to show you to your room," she didn't wait for a reply and swiftly turned on her heel with an air of authority and confidence that I craved.
We all followed swiftly, she led us to a large room, it had a mishmash of furniture I couldn't tell if it was an old study or a bedroom. Several armchairs and sofas along with a few cots and side tables, maybe it was a storage room. "I apologize we are not able to give you better quarters with the city being so overrun with refugees I'm sure you can understand." She bowed her head in our direction then just as swiftly left.
"The divan is mine!" Pippin cried claiming it for his own.
"Where's Gandalf, and Aragorn?" I asked after finally realizing they were missing.
"They're in counsel with the king," Legolas answered from my side causing me to jump.
"Gimli where are you sleeping?" Merry asked, to which the dwarf patted the armchair in the middle of the room.
"Ok…I will be all the way over here then." Merry dramatically picked up the end of a cot and dragged it across the floor, coming only to a screeching halt when he was pressed against the wall.
"Lad it can't be that bad," Gimli argued, "I don't even hear it."
That then led to Pippin and Merry each trying to one-up the other with witty comparisons to what Gimli's snores sounded like.
"Milady you best get your pick now," Merry urged still teasing Gimli as he gestured dramatically to another armchair across the room.
How do I tell him sleep won't find me here? How do I tell him I've only found rest in an Elf's arms? I deflected with a smile, "I take from your countenances we won in Isengard?"
"Treebeard did most of the work," Pippin shrugged.
The mention of Isengard made everyone visibly stiffen, even the hobbits with their playful attitudes tensed slightly. If I were wiser I wouldn't have pressed.
"What happened?"
"Don't trouble yerself lass," Gimli answered.
Do you think I heeded? Did Calliope hearken? No, I reentered the chat with the brashest of blank stares and an unwillingness to read the room.
Merry and Pippin both told me of the fall of Isengard, when they got to when they approached the Orthanc their voices faded out, their minds clearly somewhere else.
I pressed again, rudely. Pippin visibly squirmed but they both started talking, each trailing off at certain instances then seeming to skip over other parts and jumping to Saruman's demise.
They were vague, but I could tell Saruman said something; he got under their skin somehow. I dropped it.
It was awkward after that, and I was glad when Éowyn reentered the room and requested me. "You can take a moment to freshen up here. The journey has been long, and a sponge bath might offer some comfort." She said leading me into a dimly lit room where a wooden bucket of water and a bar of soap awaited me.
The water was questionable and held floaties. "There is a dress hung on the door," she gestured behind her to the golden dress more fit for a princess than me that hung loosely on a hook.
"Thank you Eowyn," I spoke hesitantly as she turned back and faced the door.
"Women of Rohan don't have the luxury of meekness or hesitation." She said as she left the room.
Éowyn is fiercely courageous, unafraid to face the perils of her world head-on. She is independent and resolute, often choosing to forge her path rather than conforming to traditional gender roles. As the niece of King Théoden, Éowyn bears the responsibility of leadership and the well-being of her people. That I already knew prior to meeting her from Dargan's books.
What I didn't know was the bluntness of the Rohirrim, the aggressive conversation style that leaves you always on guard in their presence. She doesn't mince words and is known for speaking her mind directly and honestly. Often I've noticed in her interactions with others it'll be the same as it was with me, she'll say exactly what's on her mind, even if it's a subject change and the conversation no longer flows. Maybe the Rohirrim are a bit autistic.
I'm not meek! And so what if I was hesitant upon seeing a cold bucket of stagnant water? Who wouldn't be hesitant? The water was freezing, cold was an understatement, and when I was finished the fabric of the dress seemed to catch on every goosebump.
The dress was only slightly too long, if they had heels in Middle-Earth it would be fine, but without I would need to be careful so I don't trip and fall on myself. It was beautiful and probably belonged to Éowyn herself. The neckline was low, not scandalous like the Elven dress I wore but I would need to be careful when bending or stooping, the sleeves were long and flowing, the fit was a bit tight as Éowyn was a tall reed of a woman, it hugged my curves even the ones I was ashamed of.
I walked back to our sleeping chambers after getting dressed carrying my now wet clothing back with me, I gave them a decent scrub but orcblood was a hopeless stain.
Only Merry was still in the room when I entered, he was all one for dramatics, "Lady of the Golden Wood," he bowed dramatically.
I flushed and tugged against my sleeves, "Where is everyone?"
"There's a feast in the great hall, a celebration of victory, shall I escort you Milady." He extended an arm out to me which I took, he was much taller now, before if I had linked arms with him we would have looked like mother and son, now we look more like siblings.
Massive wooden beams crisscrossed above, supporting the weight of the world above, and the flickering torches cast a warm, amber glow that danced upon the walls. The air was filled with the sweet and smoky fragrance of a hundred candles, setting the stage for a grand and celebratory feast. The hall was crowded with many bodies, but Merry paid no mind deftly weaving in between them.
Long wooden tables stretched the length of the hall, draped in vibrant cloths and laden with an abundance of food and drink. Goblets of ale and wine sparkled in the soft light, their contents promising merriment and camaraderie. Merry spotted Pippin and beelined for him, I didn't see any others from the Fellowship but I knew they had to be here.
The centerpiece of the hall was the great dais, where King Théoden's throne sat in all its majesty, adorned with furs and banners. It was a symbol of the strength and unity of the Rohirrim, a reminder that, even in times of turmoil, the people of Rohan could come together to celebrate their victories and commemorate their traditions. Théoden King sat upon the throne, Éowyn and Éomer stood behind him their gazes were hard as they surveyed the congregation before them.
I sat down next to Merry at a table full of Rohirrim and Pippin, "Lady of the Golden Wood," Pippin bowed dramatically in the same fashion Merry did.
"Tonight we remember those who gave their blood to defend this country." Théoden's voice rang out through the hall as he stood lifting a goblet high into the air.
"Hail the victorious dead!" He shouted.
Everyone around me grabbed for goblets or tankards themselves, Pippin handed me one just in time, "Hail!" The Rohirrim shouted returning the toast.
I hesitated before drinking, not because I was afraid of getting drunk but because of all the ailments I tended to due to the drink. The taste was sour and bitter. Lively chatter and laughter filled the air, punctuated by the joyful sounds of minstrels playing their instruments and singing songs of valor and adventure.
"Remember Daisy Baggins? She had the prettiest blue eyes I'd ever seen." Merry turned to Pippin after emptying his tankard.
"Well, I always thought that Lily Cotton had the most captivating smile. She could light up a room, she could." Pippin added. Their banter was filled with cheeky grins and playful nudges.
My tankard never seemed to empty as each hobbit was studious in refilling it. The warmth of the alcohol spread through me, and a pleasant, slightly dizzy feeling settled in. Merry and Pippin, noticing my giddiness, shared knowing smiles, and I couldn't help but join in their laughter. The world around us blurred, and for a brief moment, the weight of our journey and the shadows of our past seemed to fade away.
That was when I saw him; he stood to his full height with a playful smile on his lips as he carried the stumbling dwarf back to our sleeping chambers. I leapt to my feet and followed, "What happened? Is he alright?"
I stumbled and by the time I reached him the poor Elf needed to steady both me and Gimli, I could hardly walk in the long dress before, and now with the drink coursing through me I was hopeless.
"He can't hold his ale," Legolas answered lifting the dwarf and carrying him like a child back to his room. Gimli drooled and muttered incoherent grumblings as I trailed them to make sure he was safe and didn't need a healer.
The dwarf was snoring like a freight train by the time Legolas laid him down in the armchair he had chosen. I felt suddenly intrusive and awkward standing in the room, why had I followed them? Legolas clearly didn't need my aid and how much aid could I have been when I myself was inebriated.
I couldn't help but fixate on his graceful movements, his elven beauty, and his piercing blue eyes that seemed to hold a world of mysteries. How much had he drunk himself?
He too observed me from where he stood next to the sleeping Gimli, "He'll be fine."
I nodded, "he'll have to put his theory to the test, we'll see tomorrow if an ale for your ail really works."
He threw his head back and laughed, I walked toward one of the couches and plopped down, he sat down next to me. He didn't seem drunk, but definitely looser.
"I was surprised to see you; I thought you would have returned with the Elves." His voice was gentle, and I felt myself scooting closer to him, I could blame the couch of course. He was heavier and the divot he left only made it natural for my body to sink in and tumble toward him, I had no choice and he would understand of course it was logic not impudence.
"I don't know if it's the right decision." I lamented swinging my arms out wide almost hitting him in the process. "I can't run away to the Golden Wood with Dargan out there though," I stated resolutely.
His arm, warm and comforting, draped over my shoulder, I was flushing but logically the ale was to blame. "You are the only one who doesn't call me names," I yawned leaning into him; I rested my head against his chest, feeling the steady rhythm of his heartbeat beneath my ear.
"What?" He answered; his arm that draped over my shoulder pulled me closer to him.
"All my life, I've only been a spot. I know the Elves don't mean anything by their nicknames and phrases, and even the Rohirrim. You're the only one who hasn't regarded me as a spot." The soothing sound, combined with the gentle rise and fall of his chest as he breathed, offered a sense of comfort and tranquility that seemed to envelop us both. "Thank you for that," I said quietly.
The soft, almost imperceptible sound from earlier had given way to a more pronounced rhythm, a subtle yet unmistakable increase in pace. "You smell so nice," I snuggled into him, the hem of my dress hiked up as I climbed into his lap without asking permission. I was definitely drunk, and I was definitely in love with Legolas. Who, is bonded.
My ear pressed against his chest, I could hear the racing rhythm of his heart loud and clear. Each beat seemed to quicken with every passing moment, he cleared his throat, "Thank you, Calliope." He acted as if he had never received a compliment before; he acted as a flustered human, not an Elf.
His body was stiff and moved almost mechanically, he was thoroughly uncomfortable with my position on top of him. That did not sway me from squirming against him until I got comfortable. He was taken, he was bonded, but he didn't shove me away. And suddenly Barasil didn't seem so wrong, if I lived as long as Elves I don't know if I could wait for my soulmate. His arms came down around me and held me close to him his hands began trailing small pathways into my back, his movements no longer mechanical and stiff.
"In the morning," his voice was soft; the hum of his chest seemed to vibrate through me. "We-"
I interrupted him, "What happened in Isengard, what happened with Saruman?"
"Pay no mind to what he has said," he dismissed with a sigh.
I sat up placing my hands on his chest to steady myself, "Tell me what was said and I'll decide what to pay mind to."
So he did, with a great exhale he quoted the entirety of Saruman's encounter to me, even including his cackling for effect. "-Then he said, 'Gandalf does not hesitate to sacrifice those who are closest to him? Those he professes to love! Tell me, what words of comfort did you give the Halfling before you sent him to his doom? The path that you have set him on can only lead to death.' " He quoted to me at least 30 minutes' worth of dialogue and I was again amazed at Elven memory. He didn't lose focus either when Gimli's snores rose in volume.
His voice took on a different note when he continued again, " 'And the girl! Temptress of the White Hand, the Great Eye has seen her! Even now he presses his advantage! You will all die, and she will lead you to your death. Locked within Barad-dûr she will be! His Seer!' "
I was quiet for a long time after, his hands continued trailing my back, "I will not let him take you melme nin," [my love,]
The ale had worn off enough for me to realize I was taking advantage of him, I was reluctant however to climb out of his lap and sit next to him once more. "Thank you for telling me," I said numbly. Sauron knew of me, knew I had tricked Saruman, and knew I was out here, he was hunting for me.
"The night is still young," Legolas stood to his feet holding a hand out to me. "Let's not end it on this note, I'm sure there is still more ale to be had."
I shook my head, "I think I just need some fresh air actually," I stood on shaky legs. He didn't retreat his hand, if I were wiser I would have told him I needed to be alone. But I didn't, I took his hand and allowed him to walk me back down passed the great hall, and when we reached the steps outside I was reluctant to let go of his arm. But I reminded myself, Legolas is an Elf, he is bonded, he is taken.
We walked side by side circling the nearby blocks that lay around the hall, "I like the gold." He said as we rounded another corner of cobblestone, I ended up needing to hold the skirt of my dress in one hand while we walked so I didn't end up falling.
I paused my step, I blinked once then twice. "What?" I asked refusing to look up and meet his eyes.
"The gold, it brings out your eyes." His voice held a slight tremor as if he were nervous.
"Why would you say that?" I hissed at him taking a step back into the dark street hoping the moonlight didn't show my flushing face. "Don't say that to me! Don't say anything of the sort to me!"
I was being rude, he wasn't flirting, he was bonded and had been nothing but polite but to me his simple comment had set me afire. "The air is much too fresh I must retire now, goodbye."
Elves were ignorant of all social cues, not only did he not take the hint I wished for my space he took it upon himself to walk me back to our sleeping chambers. "Yes, thank you, goodbye," I stated once we reached the steps of the hall.
"Yes, we've arrived, goodbye," I stated once we were in the corridor and could hear Gimli's snoring.
He never replied, his eyes never left me though, and he held the most confused expression on his face. Every time I would turn around and try to think up a polite way to get rid of him he would have his head tilted slightly to the side and his brows furrowed as if I were a complex puzzle. I'm sure I was to him, what kind of person gets upset over a simple compliment?
He was even more annoying and bothersome when I was reaching for my damp clothes to change into to sleep in, no, nobody wants to sleep in wet clothes, but did I want to sleep in and damage Éowyn's dress? No, so wet clothes it was.
He was silent the entire time I bent and examined them then upon me scooping them up and deciding they would do, he popped up behind me, not saying a word but holding his own clothes out to me.
My face burned and I scowled at him, why is he so nice? "I have clothes here," I held my sad pile up.
"They're wet." He stated, his hands didn't retreat.
"They're damp," I corrected.
"You will fall ill," he took a step closer, his neatly folded pile was now eye level with me and my damp heap was pressed against his stomach.
"Good thing I'm a healer," I swallowed unable to take a step back. "They're not that wet, I don't want to ruin Éowyn's dress. I don't think I'll get much sleep tonight anyway," I admitted.
"Because of your nightmares?"
I felt my throat closing, "H-how did you…" I trailed off already knowing the answer. He knew because he wasn't deaf, and when Barasil wasn't present and I couldn't mindlessly pace to keep myself awake my sleep was haunted. In the Golden Wood sometimes if Barasil wasn't there I would wake myself up screaming so loudly.
"I can help you sleep if you would like," he offered still holding the clothes out to me.
"I would not." I answered taking a step back and putting distance between us once again. How inappropriate would that me? Me using him and selfishly relishing his touch as he lulls me to sleep and is none the wiser to my impure thoughts. No, I couldn't do that to him.
He frowned, "You need not be ashamed,"
I opened my mouth to reply, but he was gone. Gimli's snoring was gone, Edoras was gone. I felt a wave of disorientation and anxiety wash over me. The cacophony of car horns, the dazzling headlights, and the rush of traffic made the world seem like a chaotic dance of metal and light.
"Get out of the street! Go back to the Ren fair!" A man rolled down his window and flipped me off zooming past me.
The rush of air created by their speed tousled my hair and sent a shiver down my spine. Each passing vehicle seemed like a streak of motion, a fleeting moment of life in this bustling urban landscape. Amid the urban chaos, the streetlights above me flickered erratically, casting eerie, stuttering shadows on the pavement. Their unreliable glow added an element of unpredictability to the scene, making the night feel even more surreal.
"No," I whispered.