Chapter 4 - Lost in the Dark

The light of the day was slowly fading away. Dark clouds from the east filled the sky; there would be no stars that night. An air of unease was upon them; especially the elves were affected by it. Those who had survived the battle stood outside the room Haldir had been taken to. Softly they spoke among each other; the elvish tongue was like a murmur to Éowyn, like a warm summer rain. So beautiful and sad the words seemed. When she reached the door some bowed to her, she smiled back, encouragingly. "He's much better, don't worry."

Silently she opened the door and entered the room. The elf was lying on sleeping furs now; on the same bed her cousin had lain when he was drawing his last breath. But this one wasn't Theódred; no, he was different, completely. And he would live. She straitened herself while taking a few steps towards the wounded. The memory of the previous night came back with full force, but now she knew how to handle him. The day had given her new strength, and she had finally accepted. Yet still the love for the ranger could not be undone so easily. It still tormented her soul to think of him. She brushed the thought aside. She would need all her strength now, once again alone with the elf.

Haldir had heard her enter, but he had not turned around to face her. Legolas' words were still echoing in his mind, 'You had no right.' Had he really gone too far with her? It could not be. She was as cold as ice; nothing could reach her heart. Nothing? Aragorn had. And she had lost him, nay; he had never belonged to her. But she had hoped. And last night Haldir had used this, used this as his weapon. 'But it had been her fault,' he kept telling himself. 'She was not sincere, she wishes for my death.' And yet, the pain in her eyes when she turned away from him. That had been real, real sorrow, created by him.

His back was turned to her. 'Even better,' she thought. "I hear that you slept most of the day. I'm here to once again change your bandages. Unless you wish for another healer to do this. You no longer have to bear my presence. There are others..." She was stopped when he turned over. His breath heavy, eyes fixed upon her. "No, I do not wish for another healer." His voice little more than a soft whisper. Was there an apology in it? She nodded. "As you wish."

She gasped in surprise when she had removed the bandage upon the elf's back. The wound was already barely more than a scar. "What is that with you elves? You heal much faster than we do." He smiled to himself, "Do not forget that we are the First-Born." There it was again, his arrogance. For a moment she had forgotten about it. "Then what do you need healers for," she countered; her skilled hands putting some powdered herbs on the wound. "Who said we do?" he challenged her. "Without a healer you for one would have bled to death." She didn't say 'without me' but thought it.

The wounds again covered with bandages, she turned to the window. Darkness crept into the room, causing for Haldir's elven skin to shimmer. His long hair gleamed silver. He was beautiful, as long as he didn't open his mouth. For the first time since she had laid eyes on Aragorn when he had arrived at Edoras with his companions, a genuine smile formed on her lips.

Haldir looked at her, puzzled. She smiled, but this time it reached her eyes. A light started to glow in them, a light that touched his soul. Her words were daggers, but this smile was only warmth. For a fleeting moment he longed to reach out for her, touch her face. But then she spoke again. "I think we should bathe you tomorrow. Your body must be weary from the battle and the journey here. And your wounds are no obstacle anymore."

'We should bathe you?' Was he not able to do that himself? Now he saw something new in her smile, mockery. Bathe him, how weak did she think him? "I think I can manage that on my own," he spat. "I am no child after all." - "I should like to see you try, master elf. Even though your wounds heal fast, strength has not yet returned to you. You will be dependant on the help of others for some time yet." And with yet another smile she added, "Of course if you're ashamed of bathing in front of me I can ask one of your comrades to assist you." A new tone in her voice, teasing him. If she had been near him he would have throttled her. As it was he could only growl, "Maybe it is you that is ashamed?"

For a moment she considered, then said with a chuckle. "Don't flatter yourself, elf. You have nothing I haven't seen before. Except perhaps an exceptionally big ego." She bit her lips; this could lead nowhere good.

Quickly she turned to the window, looking out. The clouds had now taken every small piece of sky, but they were no normal clouds. They were too dark, too thick. The air seemed to get heavy, fear creeping into the proud heart of the Shield-maiden of the Rohirrim. "This darkness, it's not normal." Haldir felt it too; a dread was growing upon his mind. "Sauron, it is his doing. The Dark has started, in will not be long now until he reaches out one last time to destroy those, who still oppose him. This darkness is to fill his enemies with fear. Fight it!"

She barely heard his voice. Before her eyes she saw images of things that had been, shadows of her own past. The day her uncle had come to her brother and her telling them that their parents were no more. She saw Éomer carrying the limp body of Theódred. And she saw Aragorn, holding the hands of Legolas. Tears were filling her eyes, and she collapsed on to the ground, weeping.

Now he saw her, saw her for what she really was. This coldness about her was nothing more than a wall she had built around herself, to protect her from others. 'Others like me,' he thought. But inside she was nothing more than a frightened child. "Éowyn," he called her softly. "Proud Lady of Rohan, raise yourself, do not let yourself be consumed by your grief, be strong for those that need you." And with a deep sigh, "Be strong for me."

But she didn't hear him. As if in a dream she stood again, and slowly walked over to Haldir's bed. She reached out for his face, stroking it softly. "Theódred," she whispered, "beloved cousin. Stay with me, don't go, don't leave me alone in the dark." Her eyes were clouded, tears still streaming from them. Haldir took her by her shoulders, shaking her while saying her name again and again. Slowly her eyes cleared again, and she withdrew her hand from the elf's cheek. "Forgive me," she said with an almost breaking voice.

"It is his power, fight it. Do not allow him to confuse your mind. You must be strong, you can be strong, I know it." His voice was soft, soothing. His eyes looking up at her worry in them. He was worried about her. Maybe he was not the monster she had thought him to be after their last encounter, after the incident in the tent last night. Slowly she raised herself again, his arms gliding from her shoulders, reluctant to let her go.

"Those elves who survived as well, they are crowding beyond that door. Would you like to see them now?" She had to fight to make her voice stable. Trying to be stronger, trying to fight the shadow that was upon her. He nodded. "Very well, I'll return later if you wish me to." Another nod. Slowly she turned and left him.

His thoughts were still with her when he was surrounded by his kin, the few who had survived the terrible battle of Helm's Deep. Yet the war had not even begun. He heard the sound of elven voices, but his inner eye still saw her, falling to the ground, so lost; lost in the dark.