Translation of Elvish: Calen Glad - Greenwood; Elvish name of Mirkwood. Iëll - daughter. Anor - the sun. Anoriel - sun-maiden. Seron vell - beloved. Saes - please. Baw - no. Melin chen - I love you. Ada - father. Meleth - love. Peredhel - half-elven. Pen-neth - young one. Ion - son.

Chapter 13 - Rescue

Éowyn had once again woken in the quarters of Thranduil, having sought out the Woodland King late at night, unable to find sleep in her own, quiet chambers. No one else knew her thoughts and feelings; not Arwen, not Legolas, and least of all that insane elf, who seemed to be stalking her to entertain her with his wonderful and heroic stories. It was Thranduil who held her trough the dark hours when the pain grew worst and almost unbearable. Only he seemed able to understand her, to bring her at least some consolation. Slowly, and almost imperceptibly, he had claimed that place in her heart, which had belonged to Théoden before he had fallen for the lies of Gríma. He was like a father and friend, not wanting to lecture her, but only to help.

Now, the Shield-maiden of Rohan and the Ruler of Calen Glad were sitting in one of the many gardens surrounding the Last Homely House, deep in conversation.

"Legolas told me that Haldir is no longer himself. He looks like a mere shadow of the proud March Warden he once was, the elf you fell in love with." Gentle fingers raised Éowyn's head until her eyes met the silvery ones of the Mirkwood King, "This cannot be the way you want this to end. You are both miserable, and yet it would be so easy for you to be happy again. If only..."

Shaking her head, the Shield-maiden got to her feet, "He doesn't want me anymore. Whenever I see him, he all but runs away. He can't even stand my presence around him. And I," turning her back to Thranduil so that he wouldn't see the tears that were beginning to fall from her eyes, she went on, "I can't go to him, can't make the first step if all he would do is leaving me alone, or worse, laughing at me."

"Why would he? He loves you, loves you so much that he is fading in front of our eyes. He does not fight it, does not wish to prolong your misery. He thinks that once he is gone, you will be able to be happy again. He believes everything he does is to bring you pain and only by leaving you..."

Whirling around, Éowyn stared at the Woodland elf. "But how can he? Doesn't he know that before I met him my days were filled with darkness and sorrow? That only he was able to bring me hope and love and happiness?"

"He thinks he is unworthy of you, of your love. Show him that it is not so, or else it might be too late for you." Taking her small hand in his, he felt it shaking, her big, blue eyes filling with tears. "He is dying, and only you can save him." Pleadingly he gazed at her. She was so much like Celebrían, and yet, not like her at all. Over the weeks, he had come to love her like a daughter and it grieved him to see her in such a state. However, there was nothing he could do to still her tears. Only one could, and he had given up.

Burying her face in Thranduil's robes, Éowyn whispered, "I cannot be without him, but will he allow me to be with him? Will he allow me to save him?" The King's arms had come up around her and now a hand was slowly caressing her back in a calming motion while the other was resting in her golden hair. Suddenly she pushed the startled elf away, eyes huge in shock.

"What have I done..." Hands flew up to cover her mouth as she took another step backwards. Thranduil quickly got over the initial astonishment and inquired, "What are you talking about? What could you have done?"

Shaking her head, she whispered, "I... That night before we left the Caverns, I sent a note to Éomer. He will soon reach here to take me home. But before that, he will seek out Haldir to avenge me." And no matter what she could tell him now, he would go through with his plan. She knew her brother, once he had made up his mind... And he had never truly trusted the March Warden anyway.

Raised voices could suddenly be heard from the direction of the main courtyard and suddenly two figures came into view. One was wearing the armour of a warrior of the Mark; Éowyn paled, Éomer had arrived. Behind him was a seemingly furious Arwen, telling the King off for his idiocy. No matter what was currently happening to her, seeing her brother at a loss for words brought a smile to Éowyn's lips.

But it died the moment Arwen saw her and their eyes locked, "How could you? I thought you cared about him. Why did you tell your dearest brother that Haldir..." Raising a hand, Éowyn implored the raven-haired daughter of Elrond to stop. "What happened?" she asked, her voice weak and tired.

"Your smart brother mistook Haldir for a punchbag, that is what happened." Éowyn's eyes flew to her brother, catching his gaze. "Éomer, no. Tell me you didn't do that..."

"Your letter... You wrote he called you a... Well, you know what. He's not good enough for you. I simply wanted to help you..."

Arwen interrupted him, "Help her by breaking him completely? Did you notice that he did not even try to defend himself? You may as well have signed his death-warrant, King of Rohan." She spat his title as if it were something offending. Turning to Éowyn, eyes still blazing, she said, "He left the courtyard about an hour ago and we tried to track him down, but we had no luck. I fear that it is too late now."

The calm voice of Thranduil made them all turn towards the Mirkwood King, "You know what you have to do, Éowyn. Only you can do it, Iëll." Moving until he stood in front of the Shield-maiden, he gently kissed her forehead. "Open your heart to him, the bond will lead you to him..."

---

Anor's rays were caressing his face, but even her warmth could not penetrate the cold that grew around him, slowly filling his whole being with icy pain. The broken rib made breathing harder and harder, and every breath was shallower than the previous. "Anoriel," he whispered into the emptiness surrounding him, his right hand coming up to cover his heart.

He had always hoped to find death on the battlefield, to die nobly as a warrior, perchance saving others by giving his life. But fate had other plans for him. He had failed everyone who had ever looked up to him, beginning with his brothers, whom he had let down when they had needed him to replace their father, especially Rúmil. And no matter what the youngest of the three brothers had done, Haldir had not even once told him how proud he had been of him. At least he knew him to be happy now. He and Lord Faramir appeared to be deeply in love when last he saw them. And Orophin, he had his beautiful wife... No, his family would not miss him.

All those soldiers who had fallen at Helm's Deep... He had been their Captain, should have protected them, his friends and brethren. The Deep. That one fleeting moment when he had seen Éowyn, her sad eyes piercing him. She had hated him then. Why could she not hate him still? Then it would be easier for her... In her arms he had been able to find a happiness he had never known existed. And the love that made her eyes shine whenever she beheld him.

Suddenly warmth flooded him, chasing the coldness out of his body. Haldir smiled, leaning his head against the cold stone behind him. Death was not terrible at all it seemed, but warm and gentle. Closing his eyes against the bright light of the sun, he beheld Éowyn's face, smiling at him. She had been so carefree in Lórien, and he prayed to the Valar that she would be again once he was gone. The memories of the Golden Wood intermingled with those of Mirkwood, and suddenly he heard himself utter the words that had triggered his downfall. And saw, what he had not seen back then, Éowyn's expressive eyes staring at him in utter confusion and shock. He witnessed her breaking down in Thranduil's arms and heard her broken voice murmur the same question over and over again. "Why?"

How often had he asked himself the same thing these last few weeks? And never had he been able to find an answer. There was none. Only his ability to hurt everyone around him. Éowyn's tearstained face turned towards him, pleading with him, pleading with him not to go?

Unable to bear more, he opened his eyes again and turned around when hearing a noise...

---

Tears streamed down Éowyn's face, but she walked on, feeling that she was getting closer to Haldir. She could feel his pain as much as her own, his agony at reliving the days after the Battle of the Deep, his hope when remembering the Golden Wood, and eventually, his self-loathing at thinking back at what had happened in Calen Glad.

'Don't give up, seron vell, not now...' Urging herself to move faster, she finally saw his crouching form, back resting against a large rock. His eyes were closed, and for a terrible moment she thought she had found him too late. But then she saw his chest move as he drew air into his lungs.

He looked like a ghost and not like the proud March Warden she had fallen for with all her being. Why had she not seen it before? He was more dead than alive, and the light that seemed to glow from within the First-born had almost completely seeped out of him. Her breath caught in her throat when his eyes fluttered open and turned to her. 'Haldir...'

---

"Éowyn," he whispered, more to himself than to anyone else. His heart cramped inside his chest. She had come to him, on last time he was to see her before Éomer would take her away. No, he could not lose her, could not be without her. She had taught him to live, to love, and he was nothing without her. her.

She stood before him like a marble statue, cold eyes traveling over him. Slowly he raised himself to his feet, the world beginning to swim before his eyes. 'No, not yet. Please, Elbereth...' One step towards her, another one, and he fell into darkness. With a last whispered 'Melethen' on his lips he sank to his knees. He never heard her pained cry, never felt as her arms suddenly wrapped around him, never saw her eyes, clouded with tears...

---

She had been petrified when Haldir slowly stumbled to his feet. Could only gaze at him when he moved towards her. Only when he fell to his knees was she able to break the spell that seemed to have fallen on her. Releasing a cry of horror, she rushed to his side, halting his fall and moving his head so that it rested in her lab. "Haldir," she wept, fingers stroking through his hair, "saes, baw! Melin chen..." The last words were hardly audible anymore as she gave way to her own grief. Kissing his forehead, his cheeks and lips, she slowly rocked his motionless body, willing Haldir to come back to her.

Her heart was almost frozen in pain, but there was that tiny sparkle of light. Haldir was still alive, barely, but alive. Putting forth all the power and strength she still possessed, she held on to the little flame, drawing it back towards her. 'If you leave me, I shall follow you...'

It seemed to be hours later that she heard the gentle voice of Legolas behind her, whispering her name...

---

"Ada, what happened? Arwen came rushing into our room, telling us to come and meet you here immediately." Legolas' gaze shifted and fell upon Éomer, "What are you doing here, my Lord?" Clearing his throat, Thranduil regained his son's attention and began to explain what had come to pass. The Prince's eyes widened in fear for his friend, and before his father had finished the last sentence of his narrative he had turned on his heels to follow Éowyn.

He would not stand by and watch Haldir die, not when it seemed that his beloved was ready to fight for him again. He would never forgive himself for leaving the March Warden alone so often ever since they had reached Imladris. He had been so happy to be reunited with his bonded and had quelled Aragorn's doubts and fears as soon as he had heard that the Queen would soon give birth to a child. And his father, he had changed completely, and every day Legolas discovered a new alteration in the ruler. He was again the kind and loving elf he had know all his childhood, all these long years until Celebrían's departure.

Over his joy, he had completely forgotten about his friend. Haldir had helped him so often, long before Legolas had met the man who had completed his soul. It had been the March Warden he had turned to after his father's love had sailed, and Thranduil locked himself in his rooms for days at a time. Haldir had listened to him, had taken care of him after Legolas had seen his mother take her own life. And now?

Now he would do everything in his power to safe his friend. He would force Haldir to live if he had to. But according to his father's tale, that might not be necessary anymore. Gazing around, he spied the golden hair of Éowyn, shining in the light of Anor. Approaching her, his breath caught in his throat. No! He could not be too late.

"Éowyn," no more than a whisper it was, but it still made the Shield-maiden jump. "He is not..."

Shaking her head, her left hand began to caress Haldir's pale face, "No, he lives still. But for how much longer, I cannot say. He needs help, Legolas, the help of a healer."

Legolas bowed down, picking the March Warden up and cradling his head to his chest. He was so light, too light, as if he had not eaten anything since they had come to Elrond's house. Memories of Helm's Deep flashed through his mind, and as his eyes met Éowyn's, he knew that she was thinking the same.

"We must take him to Elrond. He will know what is to be done." Éowyn just nodded and they turned back the Last Homely House and help.

---

"Ada, come fast," Too late did Elrohir see that he was apparently interrupting. Erestor and Elrond were lying in front of the fire, unclothed. "I told you to lock the door, meleth," the advisor growled, sending a glare towards his former pupil. But as soon as he saw the face of the young Peredhel, he grabbed both Elrond's and his robes, ushering the Lord of Rivendell to get dressed.

"What is amiss, pen-neth?" It had to be something grave if Elrohir did not even respond to this nickname. He just stared at his father, pleading with him to hurry. "Tell me what happened, Ion," he finally inquired, motioning for his son to lead the way.

"It is Haldir. He almost... That is..." Drawing a deep breath, he murmured, "He almost died today. Éowyn's brother arrived, apparently to take her home to Edoras. Haldir heard and... Had Éowyn not found him, I believe he would no longer draw breath. But he is weak, Ada, awfully weak. Elladan and I have tried what we could, but he said I should get you."

"Where is the King of the Riddermark?" Elrond inquired, and suddenly an evil smirk appeared on Elrohir's face. "Oh, do not worry about him, Ada. Arwen is taking care of him." Erestor just shook his head at that. He could very well imagine how his lover's daughter was taking care of Éomer, and suddenly he felt pity for the human.

By now they had reached the House of Healing and Elrond quickly walked up to his son and his patient. Out of the corner of his eye he saw a movement and suddenly found himself face to face with a weeping Éowyn. "It is my fault. All of this. I should have forced him to talk to me, no matter how hurt I was. I turned a blind eye to his suffering and now... I almost lost him."

Placing a hand on the maiden's shoulder to calm her, Elrond asked, "What happened?" Blue eyes met grey, and a weak smile appeared on Éowyn's face, reaching her eyes. "The bond, I used the bond to pull him back. I don't think I would have been able to had he been stronger. He would have fought me... I can still feel him, growing a little stronger with every passing minute."

Turning towards the March Warden, Elrond placed his hand on the Lórien elf's forehead. Yes, Haldir would live; the flame of life within him had been rekindled. But why... "Elladan, his breathing is too shallow. Did anything happen I do not know yet?"

Sinking down by Haldir's side, Éowyn whispered, "It's my fault. I told Éomer what had come to pass in Mirkwood and he came here to avenge me. He broke Haldir's ribs..." Taking hold of Haldir's hand, she added with a broken voice, "Forgive me, seron vell."