Chapter 6 - Growing Attraction

Haldir's head was spinning; he saw a great battle before him, proud warriors falling to the cruel weapons of orcs. Poisoned arrows filled the air, and he was in the midst of it. It was not Helm's Deep; there were no ruins about him. It was a plain, a white tower rising against a mountain. He had seen the tower, but could not remember where. He heard a cry of terror on the air, a Nazgûl. But instead of turning away from the loathed creature he rode towards it. Why? And then he saw something that made his blood freeze...

Someone called his name, he could not hold on to the vision. Eyes looking down at him, blue eyes, her eyes. For a second he had not known were he was, but now he saw her, Éowyn. Once again she leaned over him, gazing down at him. "Haldir, yet another nightmare ... everything's fine." Unable to resist the urge he raised his hand and touched her face. It was only her moving away that stopped him from pulling her down to him.

Slowly his senses came back to him, why would he want to kiss her? She was nothing to him. But then he remembered what had happened the previous day, and still he told himself that it was impossible. That it was nothing more than gratefulness, yes; after all she had saved his life. He only admitted that to himself, and even that was hard.

"There was no dawn, I fear that we may never see the sun again," her voice was strong, but also filled with grief. "We will light candles, remember, you are to take a bath." A smile formed on her face, teasing him. There was nothing to be loved about her. She was cold and arrogant and proud. He did not admit that he shared these qualities, would not, could not.

"I will have to take the bandages off your wounds, I don't think you will need them anymore anyway." Her hands upon his skin again, burning on him. What was happening to him? Why could she touch his soul like this? He was weak he reasoned, too weak to withstand her. It would pass once he had regained his strength. Once she had finished, Éowyn opened the door and called to someone outside.

A bathtub was carried into the room, servants following with bowls of hot water. Two elves also entered, they were to help Haldir get up. To him it was unbearable. All these people, only here because of his weakness, and Éowyn even took delight in it. This mocking smile that was still on her face, her gleaming eyes fixed upon him. The servants bowed to their lady and left. She now nodded to the elves that now approached the bed. Éowyn herself took a few steps towards the window, staring in the darkness outside, unwilling to turn around.

Haldir almost shouted at his comrades, the humiliation of having to lean on to them was too great. Slowly they led him to the tub and helped him climb into it. The warmth was embracing him. He leaned back his head to give in to the sensation. Éowyn bowed to the elves. "Call for us when you need help," one of them said in the Common Tongue on his way out of the room.

They were alone. Reluctantly Éowyn turned around to face the elf. He had his eyes closed, his head leaning backwards. His marble chest was exposed to her gaze; only her strong will prevented her from reaching out to touch it. Instead she said, "Would you please lean forward so that I can wash your back, I will leave the rest to you." She could feel herself blush and turned around to hide it from him.

With a sigh Haldir opened his eyes again and leaned forward. He could see that she tried hard not to look at him, was he so repulsive to her? Or rather too appealing to her eyes. He chuckled softly to himself. No matter what she had told him, this was no sight she was exposed to usually. He felt her fingers close around his long hair, holding it up while the other hand was washing him. The cloth she used was soft, almost as soft as her skin.

She tried to avoid touching him directly, too great was the need to do so. She wouldn't give in to it. Not with him, not after his friend had broken her heart. As much as she longed for someone to comfort her troubled soul, she wouldn't allow him to be the one. The wounds he had only taken two days ago were already scars, had she not known their origin she might have thought that they were from a battle a long time ago. He didn't flinch when she touched them, the last sign that he was indeed recovering.

Too soon did she hand the cloth to him; too soon did her hands leave his skin. He almost gripped her wrist and pulled her into his arms. For a fleeting moment did their eyes meet and he thought he could see the same need in them, the need he felt right now. Only then did he remember why she had awoken compassion in his heart. She was in love with another. Anything between them would be nothing to her, and even if his pride was unable to accept it, he knew that he would not be able to forget her if he had been so close to her. He would be no substitute, especially not for Aragorn who would be the downfall of Legolas. His body was aching to feel her, feel her hands upon him again. But his mind was controlling him once more.

She had felt it too, had wanted to let her fingers glide over his muscular body, feel his silken hair against her cheek. But she wasn't going to give into her physical needs. She turned away from the elf; "I think you can manage without me now. I will call back your friends." Without a further look she left the room, her heart beating fast in her chest, her body craving for the touch of the elf.

---

Her brother had found her, sitting in the darkness outside of Meduseld. Her breath was still heavy, and when he sat down beside her, putting an arm around her shoulder she broke down. Tears were welling from her eyes; she flung her arms about Éomer's neck seeking to feel the comforting warmth of his body. He held her tightly, stroking her hair and whispering to her soft words to soothe her. He didn't know what had brought her to the edge, but he thanked his ancestors that he was here with her now. It was good that Aragorn was gone; maybe her heart would find rest with the reason for her agony gone.

For how long they sat thus he did not know, but finally Éowyn's sobs stopped and her regular breathing told him that she fallen asleep. 'Yes, dearest sister, rest. You will need your strength before the end, no matter what it will be. Forget about him, think of those that love you, your family.' He kissed her brow, then lifted her up and carried her to her own chamber. There she lay, lost in her dreams. She saw him, his silken skin wet under her fingers, and in her dreams nothing held her back from sinking into his arms.

She woke with a start, her arms wrapped around her. Remembering clearly her dreams of the elf only a few doors away. He was poison for her, consuming her thoughts and now her dreams also. She would hide from him; he needed no healer anymore, only rest. And rest he would, without her.

---

That night a messenger arrived to inform Éomer and his sister of the return of the King. He would gather all his troops around him in a great muster, then set out for Gondor, which was now under war. It was clear that Éowyn would be left behind again. Only this time she would not allow it. An idea formed in her head, and silently she went to the armoury. Life had nothing to offer her anymore; maybe she would at least find an honourable death on the battlefield.