Categories > Books > Lord of the Rings > What Gain Was Theirs

Chapter 2

by Corvis 1 review

During the battle at Helm's Deep, Haldir is near fatally wounded. His questions about that night rise to the surface during a meeting, can they be answered?

Category: Lord of the Rings - Rating: PG-13 - Genres: Action/Adventure, Drama - Characters: Eomer, Haldir - Warnings: [V] - Published: 2007-01-25 - Updated: 2007-01-26 - 1956 words

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A/N - The previous chapter was meant as a one-shot. I decided to continue the story after this long because a lot of people said they wanted me to continue it. I wanted to too, so I picked the proverbial pen up after more than a year. So it was hard to get back into the frame of mind I was in when I wrote the first part. So needless to say, I don't know if this chapter is going to be as good as the first, but I plan to continue it until the end. So I'll let you all know if I make any changes to it in the future. Anyway, long story short, I hope you don't think this chapter stinks, I'm getting back into the swing of it. Thanks!

Chapter 2

Haldir paced. He seemed to pace more and more lately. Elves had different ways of dealing with stress. Some had an eerie stillness that only the weight of centuries could bring. It was as though staring at a great mass of calm water. Others hid their fears in their eyes. That one small fissure in their facade. Haldir paced. Steady movement seemed to calm him, and his light steps made to show the pass of time and thoughts.

There was a lot on his mind, and his footfalls irked the elves in the talan below him. He shrugged it off, knowing that he was making it apparent that there was something on his mind. He thought of all the things that had been said between Eomer and himself.

After the healers had given the news that he would indeed live, Eomer had seemed to choke on some emotion caught in his throat. There had been tears in his eyes, ones that he seemed determined not to let fall. Haldir had feigned sleep, letting his body take over the rest of the healing and not his spirit.

It was the second night that Eomer was to leave. Haldir knew that it was to be, there was still much that had to be done against the rising evil, and the fate of all of them rest in the hands of two small hobbits crossing the plains of Mordor. Eomer whispered urgent words that he would return to him, note his progress. Haldir had nodded, never saying a word.

To be so attached to another was disconcerting. He knew not where the bond had come from, nor why it chose the two of them. Rare was it for the Valar to play their hand in the affairs of Men. Why had Eomer been chosen? Haldir pushed those thoughts from his mind, farbeit for him to unravel the mysteries laid before him. There was nothing he could do but speculate.

Instead he turned his attentions to the things that he did know for a fact. After he had healed sufficiently, he was given leave to return to the Golden Wood. He had travelled with a group, away from the growing darkness that was consuming the sky. The same bruised sky that Eomer was fast approaching. It was painful, a tugging in him that he could not describe.

Haldir had a long time to heal, there was more damage than he had imagined, and he still to that day bore a silver scar, always a reminder of what he had endured. But all movement had been restored, and he had been appointed back to guarding the realm after he had sufficiently healed.

In this time, he wondered what had become of Eomer, only scattered news was brought to them, and he dared not be so bold as to ask on the affairs of one man.

At last there seemed to come a time when the Lady of the realm seemed to fade. Just a small thing, but as the days went on, her light was no longer as bright as it once had been. It was with a heavy sigh she had announced that her time in this land had come to an end, the days of the elves were over. She and Celeborn were to sail.

Haldir had been in a quandry. What was he to do? Sail with them and risk never recieving answers to the problem that still vexed him? At the time, he was sure that it was the thing to do, for there seemed to be no place for him in this land after all was said and done. It was a trip to the gardens that had changed his mind, and he remembered the wise words that the Lady had said in her parting.

There was more to Haldir now that met the eye, he had been changed in a way that she did not understand. His fate was now tied to this land, and there was no room for him on the ship. His burdens were too great. Haldir had faltered under her advice, but Galadriel had not swayed. There was more for him to accomplish here, in the last days of the Elves.

Haldir had been passed the privilege of commanding the last of the Elves that stayed behind. In time, they would all be gone, but until then, until the leaves of the wood fell, he would stay behind.

He had a shadow in his mind, one that told him his fate was coming to fruit.

+++++++

There was comfort here, Eomer thought. Although worries should be chasing through his mind of what had happened to the messengers before him, he could not bring his mind to think on what could have befallen them. There was an air here of time standing still, he was in no hurry to think on anything other than the conversation he had shared with Haldir that morning. It lingered in his mind and he smiled lightly.

There was to be a feast at dusk. Small lights had begun to spring from the barks of the trees around him, and a soft singing could be heard wafting through the air. He listened intently, not knowing the words that were spoken, but understanding the meaning behind them nonetheless. It was a soft tune, and as he readied himself for the feast, it set him at ease.

Haldir had found what he had sought for so long. Answers to questions that had plagued him since he had returned to Lothlorien no doubt. Eomer had felt his peace of mind as he told Haldir of what had happened. There was a connection between them, of that he had no doubt.

Eowyn had traveled with him, and she came to his room to meet him for the feast. She had long found her happiness with Faramir, heir of the steward. They had made their life rebuilding the city of Osgiliath, one that held so many memories for Faramir. He had given up his father's dream of leading the House of Stewards to claim the title of King, and he lived peacefully under the respect of the new King. Never had there been a more patient man to deal with the ambitions of his sister, and they were well matched, neither displacing the other, both of them complimenting the other.

Eomer longed to have the same with another. Eowyn's happiness radiated on him and he couldn't help but smile as he looked at her.

"What is it that bothers you so?" Eowyn asked, her keen eyes knowing that there was something amiss.

"It is nothing." Eomer said. How could he tell her that he had thought he found his happiness? There were many complications to what he was proposing of the Elf. He had never wanted anything more that how he wanted this, but the practicalities of such a union did not balance in his favor. Eowyn seemed to understand what was vexing her brother and she walked over to him.

"There is something that you long for?" She asked. "You feel alone."

"I do." Eomer said, sighing. "I have found what I have been looking for, and I fear that my title and all that comes with it would deny me the simple right of happiness."

Eowyn regarded him for a long moment. She at first didn't seem to understand what he was implying, but after some thought it had become clear. "The Guard? He was the Elf you pulled from the Wall?"

Eomer said nothing, simply nodded. There was no way he could have kept what had happened from his own sister, they shared everything together. And something so significant, he could not keep from her. Her practical advice had steered him right too many times to count. She looked at her hands for a long time before she spoke again.

"Have you any idea what this means?" She asked. "Is there such a connection as you thought there was?"

"Yes. We both feel it." Eomer said.

+++++++

There was a time when everything in life was dependant on a single ring. A trinket of a man wielding more power than was possible. A ring that a circle in itself was made to travel in a full circle back to the fire from whence it came. A ring that though so small, carried the fates of all in its grasp.

Eomer had traveled with Aragorn, Legolas, Gimli and others to the Black Gate and look at it with the same sense of deepening dread. What they could do there was no more than provide a moment for the hobbits to pass unnoticed. It meant certain death, and Eomer lamented the fact that he would not be able to upkeep the promise that he had made to the elf upon leaving. It was almost as if the battle had already been lost.

Eomer raised his sword and stormed the army at the gate side by side with his fellows. It seemed for a moment that they were making headway, there were signs from the other side that they had made an advance. Eomer's hopes almost renewed themselves before he lowered his sword and saw the new King of Gondor fall to the ground.

There was a shift, a faltering, and for a moment, Eomer felt the crushing weight of despair on him. The army before them surged, and he saw for the first time the hopelessness of their plight. There was no victory to be had here. There was only death. And the rise of a power so dark it threatened to engulf them all.

Far away in Lothlorien, where the ages of man seldom made a ripple in the placid calm, another faltering breath heaved. Leaves rustled and fell from branches. Chimed clanked above the heads of a gathering. A single efl rose from where he had been lying and took a step, only to crumble to the ground.

There was a silence, even from the mouths that opened to speak, nothing was heard. The elf grabbed onto the nearest post and tried to pull himself to his feet, the crushing weight falling on his shoulders.

+++++++

Everything stood still for a moment, the only movement throughout the realms was a single small being. He lunged forward and grabbed for the fate of the world. It was out of anger, spite and malice, and with that he pushed the ring over the edge. Knowing full well that if he could not have it, no other could. As the tiny ring was engulfed in fire and scattered to the flames, everything moved again.

The elf rose from the ground and took a breath. The men fighting at the Black Gate watched as the armies of evil were swallowed into the pit. Eomer rose to his full height and breathed for what seemed like the first time.

There was life again.
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