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Notes: I know, I already used this whole jealousy thingy already in "An Unexpected Love". However, here it is essential once
again for the future of my couple. I also gave another explanation for these misunderstandings and such. So please bear with me and
you shall see that it will all turn out well...
Translation of Elvish: Mellonen - my friend. Ada - father. Ion - son. Anor - the sun. Haldir ó Lórien - Haldir from Lórien.
Arda - Middle-Earth. Saes - please. Melethen - my love.
Chapter 10 - A Gentle Embrace
Slowly opening her eyes, and meeting the soft candle light that filled the chamber, Éowyn moaned as
spikes of pain seemed to split open her skull. Lids fluttering shut, she turned towards where Haldir
lay, and encountered nothing but emptiness. And when the memory of the previous day returned to her,
she drew his cushion to her chest, tears staining the silken fabric. 'How could it come to this?'
---
The moment Thranduil re-entered the dimly lit room, he heard the sound of soft weeping. Slowly he
approached the bedding, kneeling by Éowyn's side. "My child, do not cry. Everything will be alright;
I promise..." Almost the same words he had used all those years ago, when he held an unconscious
Celebrían in his arms after finding her in the claws of the goblins of the Misty Mountain. History
would not repeat itself, not this time!
Large, tearstained eyes opened to meet his gaze, silently asking if he truly believed so. Reaching
out a hand, he gently caressed her cheek, brushing away silvery tears. Bringing a small vial to her
mouth he whispered, "Drink this. To ease the pain..." For one moment Éowyn wondered which pain the
King was referring to. Both her head and heart were aching, both seeking healing. Then she opened her
mouth and swallowed the potion.
"Sleep, my child. You need to rest." He leaned in, kissing her forehead. When he drew back, Éowyn's
eyes were again closed, her breathing slowing down. Sitting back on his heels, he took in the picture
that met his gaze. The proud Shield-maiden clutching a cushion, probably Haldir's, to her chest as if
drawing strength from it. A weak smile played around the corners of his mouth, and he softly said, "I
shall not fail you, not this time. You need him, as he needs you. You only need to understand his
actions..."
---
As soon as his anger had abated, Thranduil once again sought out the company of his son. He made him
repeat again and again what exactly had come to pass in the small glade. And Thranduil found himself
not only understanding the March Warden, but had seen that he himself had acted the same way in a
similar situation...
---
Two days after Celebrían's departure, Serinde had spoken to him, had told him to, if only once in his
life, follow his heart's greatest desire. She had made him defy both Lórien and Imladris and keep his
beloved where she belonged, by his side. Especially now that she was with child. But still he had
been uncertain. However, when he saw Celebrían in a dream, surrounded by a dark cloud, threatening to
suffocate her, he had made up his mind to follow her, to claim her for himself, to stop this charade
they had been keeping up for over two millennia.
Upon the fifth day after she had left the Caverns, the King and his heir set out to follow her. After
two days they caught up with her and her faithful guards. Too late. Goblins had waylaid them.
Celebrían's guards lay slain on the cold ground, their souls already travelling to the Halls of
Waiting. Celebrían herself had fallen to her knees, her hands covering her stomach and the small
elfling growing within. The largest of the goblin stood towering over her, kicking her. Another
approached from behind, a large club raised above his head. He was about to bring it down upon
Celebrían's head when his heart was pierced by one of Legolas' arrows.
Before long, the goblins lay in their own dark blood, Thranduil's sword embedded in the chest of
their leader. His eyes were searching for any remaining orcs, when he felt a small hand touch his
thigh. Whirling around he had been prepared to strike down yet another orc when he saw the face of
his beloved...
---
Had it been like this for Haldir? It appeared to be just so. The only problem was that Celebrían had,
at all times, known she never had anything to fear from Thranduil, that he would give his life and
soul to protect her. True, he could feel a bond between Haldir and Éowyn, could almost see it. But it
was a mere shadow of what he had shared with the Daughter of the Golden Wood, what he still shared
with her.
How had this happened? Haldir should have known not to bind himself to Éowyn, at least not yet. Was
their love and desire to be one this strong? Had the bond formed itself on its own volition? And when
Haldir realised what was happening he broke away? Had Galadriel taught him nothing? The bond had to
be completed, consumed... Or else both Haldir and Éowyn would fade, and fall into darkness...
Grasping her hand in his, he listen to her even breathing, vowing to do everything in his power to
protect her from such a fate, even if it was the last thing he ever did.
---
"It is no use, you know, sitting here, pitying yourself." Legolas was short of losing his temper.
Ever since he had told his friend that Éowyn would not see him, Haldir had been sitting by the fire,
staring into the flames. "She will not come out and fling herself into your arms as if nothing had
happened. You have to go in there and talk to her..."
Why was it so hard to reason with the March Warden? He was a warrior, had led an army to Helm's Deep.
But now he had gone back to the time when he was an elfling, only past his majority. Or was it
something graver? The light that seemed to surround the Lórien elf every time Éowyn was near had gone
out. It could not mean... But Haldir had known where to find his beloved... Fear took hold of the
Prince's heart. "Mellonen..."
As if guessing Legolas' thoughts, Haldir nodded, "I was foolish enough to let it happen, but too
scared of what it might mean. I drew back too early. And now it might be too late." He turned towards
the Mirkwood elf, eyes bloodshot, his chest moving heavily with every breath he forced into his
lungs. How much Legolas wished for Gimli to be with them in that very moment. The dwarf would surely
be able to raise the spirit of the usual so arrogant elf, who now seemed to be fighting a losing
battle.
Both were so lost in their thoughts and fears, that the sound of the door closing startled them, and
Legolas spun around too fast, almost tripping over his own feet if his father's arms had not catched
him. "Ada, how is..." Haldir finished his friend's sentence, quickly raising himself to his feet,
"How is Éowyn, King Thranduil?"
The King studied Haldir, searching his face for some sign of his emotions. What he found was proving
him right, but set terror into his heart. What if he was too late to reach through to him? Helping
his son to regain his footing, he said, "Ion, I would have you sit with Éowyn. She sleeps now, but
should she wake, call for me immediately." Legolas inclined his head, and walked towards the door his
father had just come through. He was about to reach for the door handle, when he turned to Haldir
again, "Everything will turn out fine, mellonen. You will see..." Then he was gone, leaving
Thranduil and Haldir alone.
The King moved to the second chair by the fire, lowering himself in an elegant motion. Haldir, unable
to form a coherent sentence or question, followed suit. Thranduil's gentle voice seemed to envelope
him like a soft blanket, "There is much we need to discuss, Haldir ó Lórien..."
---
Sighing deeply, he closed the door behind him, anxious not to make any noise to wake the fair maiden
on the bedding. When he turned, his breath was forced from his lungs as if he had been hit onto the
chest. Legolas held Éowyn's hand, softly whispering to her. Sweet Elbereth, no! He had held
Celebrían's hand like this, in those dark weeks after the attack. After Elrond had found out the
truth and blamed Thranduil for what had happened. And was it not his fault? Celebrían had come to
him, and only because of him had she been in the mountains that terrible day. Was it not his fault
that now Éowyn lay on the sickbed as well? He had not kept his realm safe for her...
Legolas finally became aware of his father's presence in the room and whispered, "She is stirring,
Ada. And all the while she has whispered Haldir's name. I was hard put not to fetch him to her side."
What had disabled Thranduil to see the kindness in his son's eyes before? Every time he had come to
his father, eager to help him, eager to please him. And always he had been turned away, hurt and
wounded deeply. He could still see the scars on his son's heart, on his beautiful soul. One day he
would have to thank that human ranger, Aragorn, for saving Legolas from breaking with sorrow and
grief.
It was partly thanks to Éowyn that he was blind no more. And then there was Elrond's faithful
advisor... Smiling to himself, he remembered that very soon he would be united with his bonded again,
would be able to hold her in his arms... But now he had to take care of Éowyn, his child...
"Give it a little more time, Legolas. Go to Haldir, and send him here when Anor's light fills the
woods again and brings hope to all that roam Arda." Responding to his son's worried gaze, he added,
"You were right, Ion. Everything will be alright again. And soon..."
Kissing Éowyn's hand, Legolas let go of it and left the room in search of his friend. A faint whisper
made the King's attention centre on Éowyn. The sound of Haldir's name, so pained and aching, the
image of her still clinging to the pillow in her arms, made the King's heart once again go out to
her. She, who had suffered so much already. Now it lay in Thranduil's hands to bring the smile back
to her eyes, to rekindle the fire that seemed to burn her from within...
Gently calling her name, he smiled when he saw her eyes open and focus on him. "How are you feeling,
my child?" The weak smile that appeared on her features would probably have melted a heart of stone.
"I long for him, my Lord. But how can I face him again after what happened? Did he really wish to
kill me in that moment or..."
Thranduil halted her by raising his hand, "It was not you he saw there. He would never consciously
bring you harm, or hurt you." Drawing a deep breath, he settled next to her on the bedding, gathering
her in his arms. "Will you listen to me? There is a tale you must hear as it might help you
understand Haldir's actions."
Éowyn's eyes filled with tears as she nodded. "I will listen to whatever you have to say, my Lord.
Nothing could be worse than this... I wish for him to be near, and yet I fear it at the same time.
I'm certain of his love, but I'm terrified that he hates me."
Shaking his head, Thranduil whispered, "If there is one person in Arda he hates in this moment, it is
himself. He never hated you, not even when he thought he did. You must have been a rather harsh
nurse..." If her smile had been able to melt his heart, the chuckle the memory of her nursing Haldir
had forced from her throat warmed the whole room. Indeed, she had not been very gentle in taking care
of his wounds. She should have been ashamed of herself. But Haldir had brought it upon himself,
hadn't he? Always challenging her and reminding her of what she, back then, thought she had lost. How
long ago it appeared to her now, though it was little more that seven months.
Kissing her forehead, the King for the second time this day forced himself to relive the incidents of
that day on the pass through the Misty Mountains. When at last he had finished by relating to Éowyn
how Celebrían had taken ship to Valinor, the Shield-maiden softly cried into his robes. Now she
understood what had come over Haldir, and also why she had been so terrified. Yet one question
remained unanswered.
"Why did he draw back, when he felt the bond taking shape? Doesn't he wish for us to be as one? I
can't say that I sensed it the moment it happened, but I felt somewhat different. As if all his
feelings, his very soul, were hidden only by a veil from my eyes. I could see shapes but never the
real thing. I long for nothing more that this veil to be lifted, for my eyes to finally see the
beauty of his eternal soul, of his heart. To feel enveloped by his love at all times and not only
when we..." She stopped abruptly, her cheeks reddened by a deep blush.
Pretending not to have heard her last words, Thranduil answered her question, "You have never spoken
of a bond. He did not know if it would be your wish as well as his. He told me that he was afraid to
lose you because he had assumed too much. He had planned to talk to you about it, this very night.
But fate caught up with you it seems..." Gently taking hold of her hands, he extricated himself from
her grasp. "You should get dressed, my child. I feel that Anor is already rising in the skies and
Haldir soon will be here..."
Éowyn smiled, sitting up, "And I no longer fear his presence, thanks to you, my Lord." When she tried
to stand, she swayed. For a moment the world around her turned black, and she grasped for something
to keep her from falling.
When her eyes opened again, she found herself in the arms of the King of Mirkwood. Strong, yet gentle
hands caressed her back, whispered words muffled by her hair in which he had buried his face. "My
head," she commented unnecessarily. Resting her head against his chest, breathing in the scent of the
forest that had calmed her while listening to his tale. Her eyes closed, feeling protected and safe
from all harm.
This was how Haldir happened upon them...
---
Legolas had found his friend by the gates of the Caverns where he sat, listening to the sounds of the
night. His face was relaxed again, calm radiating from his form. "Your father is wise, my Prince. Far
more than I would have given him credit..." he whispered into the dark.
The Mirkwood elf sat down beside Haldir, and for a while they remained like this in companionable
silence. When at last Legolas spoke again, Anor was sending his first fiery rays through the woods.
"He would do anything for Éowyn, and thus for you as well. To him, she is Celebrían's lost child,
reborn. There is nothing he would not do to secure her happiness. You should be glad of that, as
otherwise..."
"Otherwise I might not be able to regain her trust so easily, I know. Her love I have not lost, but
for a moment she feared me. I shall never forgive myself for that. Never again shall harm befall her
because of me, this I vow..." The Prince smiled to himself, knowing that the two lovers would be
united again in little more than an hour, when Anor had fully risen on his path across the sky.
---
When the moment had finally come, Haldir almost raced back to the rooms he shared with his beloved,
yanking the door to the bedroom open ... and stopped dead in his tracks. Everything fell into place
as he saw the couple standing by the bedside, locked in an embrace. Of course, Thranduil cared about
Éowyn, very much indeed. But he had never intended her for Haldir. Only for himself. The way he held
her, the way his head was resting against her cheek... 'What of Celebrían, my Lord!' And Éowyn? Her
hands were clutching the King's robes, her eyes closed while she inhaled his scent. Whatever he had
imagined he would find, this was not it.
"Traitors," he growled, quickly closing in on the two. Éowyn's eyes opened with a start, her hand
reaching out for him. Taking hold of it, he forcefully flung her back, causing her to tumble against
the wall. Thranduil, about to speak, had not anticipated Haldir's wrath. His hand closed about the
King's throat, eyes shooting angry sparks at him.
Éowyn, unable to comprehend what was happening, only knew she had to calm her beloved. Sending all
the love she felt his way, she slowly approached him, resting her hand on his arm. As if in a haze
did she see Haldir's grip of the King's throat ease, and his attention shift to her.
His voice was cold, oh so cold, cutting right through her, "Traitor! I should have known it, the
moment I saw you in Aragorn's arms. But you were smart enough to make me believe you then, against my
better judgement. Not again. Not this time! You would throw yourself at every man or elf that pleases
your eye. I am surprised you never tried to get Lord Celeborn to bed you! With him," he pointed at
the King, who stared at Haldir, too stunned to speak, "it was easier I guess... I have heard that he
would lay with anyone who resembled his lost love."
This could not be happening, not again. Stopping the King, who finally was about to bring Haldir to
his senses, with a pleading gaze, Éowyn whispered, "Saes, Haldir... Melethen..." This only fuelled
the Lórien elf's rage. "Never dare to call me that again! You are not worthy of anyone's love, you
whore!" Then he turned and stormed out of the room, slamming the door behind him.
The sound echoed in Éowyn's ears long after Haldir had left, when she lay in Thranduil's arms, her
tears soaking the velvet robes, the bleeding of her heart driving her mad with pain that would not abate...
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