Rating: PG-13 (battle scenes are never nice)
Summary: Three days in the life of Haldir and his sister
Status: Complete
Author's notes: ladies, gentlemen and elves - the very first fanfic that I've ever written - and it's the worst one, too! Good grief, this is quite some stinker! There is melodrama, sap and whining galore! But you know how it is: the ugliest kids you love the most, and so I keep "Three Days" up here for your amusement, and as a reminder to myself how I should NOT write. :-D
THREE DAYS
Chapter 3
"The day of her search"
Wounded warriors everywhere, huddling together under narrow stairs, trying to escape the merciless rain. Some were just wandering around with empty eyes, others waited for their wounds to be tended to. Very few of the survivors were Elves.
Mirwen led her mare slowly through the fortress, her eyes wandering from face to face, hoping to find her brothers alive and well, hoping ...
"This is not a place for you to dwell."
She felt a heavy hand on her shoulder, spun around and saw the tired, pale face of Aragorn. He was covered in blood and grime, the deep wound on his arm still bleeding.
She straightened up. "'This was not a place to dwell for my brothers either, but still they came to your help." She realized she'd spoken in a sharper tone than she had intended, so she lowered her voice when she added: "I came to take them home."
For a second, something like pity flashed up in the ranger's face, then he said, "Rúmil was wounded, but do not fear, he will heal."
She studied his face, she read the grief and despair, and this was all the answer she needed on the question she hadn't dared to ask. She swallowed the hard lump which began to form in her throat, then she asked briskly, "Where?"
Aragorn let his eyes wander around, then he pointed vaguely in one direction. "Up there, I think. It was dark. It happened so fast. I can't remember." For a moment, his mind seemed to be somewhere else, in a dark place, then he focused on her again. "I was with him."
Mirwen bowed her head. "My thanks." He mirrored the gesture, then he watched her climbing the stairs to the top of the wall, over the dead bodies of Men, Elves and Uruk'hai.
She looked at every fallen elf, turned around bodies, forced herself to face this horror, because she had to find him. Hours and hours she searched, seeing the madness of war in every pair of soulless eyes.
But Mirwen kept on searching, side by side with the women of the Rohirrim who were looking for their fallen husbands, sons, fathers and lovers. A procession of grief, and a silent one, only interrupted by a wail or a sob when a familiar face was found among the fallen. Also Mirwen found friends of her childhood, friends of many centuries, found the mutilated body of one who had courted her once.
But she didn't find Haldir.
Dusk had come, and for a moment, she gave in to fatigue, ran her hand through her hair, combing back the strands hanging in her face and leaving a streak of blood and dirt on her forehead in the process. It would be pointless to continue the search once the night had come. She had to rest, and she had to see Rúmil, making sure he really was alive.
When she stepped over some stones broken out of the fortress wall, she saw it. Once it had been a blue band, woven into a braid of silver blonde hair. It was all she could see of Haldir, her brother, buried under the carcasses of two Uruk'hai.
She tore at the bodies, but they seemed to get heavier with every pull and tug. "Get away from him!" she repeated over and over, as if she could will the lifeless bodies to move. She was so tired, and her arms seemed to have lost all strength; she started to beat on the unmoving pile of flesh in front of her with her bare fists, when finally four strong hands grabbed the first Uruk'hai by his arms and dragged him away.
It were Aragorn and Legolas, who, worried about her restless wanderings amidst the dead, had come to take her back for food and rest.
The second Uruk'hai was rolled aside, and there he was. His hair stuck together in a revolting mixture of blood and dirt, his eyes wide open, and he was a little elfling again to her, wondering with big eyes about a butterfly or a flower, asking her a thousand questions about the "why's" and "how's" of life, and she just couldn't believe that this mouth would never speak and these eyes never see again.
Mirwen sank down on her knees, and took the lifeless figure in her arms, hugging him close.
Haldir moaned.
For a few seconds, Mirwen was petrified - a state she shared with Aragorn and Legolas, who stared down at their supposedly fallen brother in arms. Had their ears betrayed them? Had Aragorn not witnessed Haldir's death? Had he not died in his arms?
There was another sound coming from the badly wounded man.
Now he slowly, slowly turned his head to his sister.
"Why are you here?" Haldir slowly and almost inaudibly asked.
Mirwen starred at him for a moment, collecting her thoughts, almost unable to believe what she saw, heard and felt. Then she took off her cloak, wrapped it around her brother, and tucked the garment in tightly.
"The night is cold. I thought to bring you an extra cloak, brother."