Faril Nin [My Huntress]

Title: Faril Nin My Huntress
Genre: Romance, Angst, Hurt/Comfort
Rating: PG-13 – R (for graphic violence detail)
Characters: Orophin/OFC
Time: Begins before the Fellowship come into Lórien in TA 3018… Ends FA 250.
Chapter(s): 11/12
Summary: “Gwaeron… Are you sure of what you are doing? You must know that he cannot choose between mortality and an elf’s age as my line can. When you die it could likely break his heart, and to an elf, my daughter, that is fatal.
Author: Codi Lyn
Disclaimer: I realize that Arwen was the last elf born in Middle Earth but I am changing it with my license as the author. Also, I don’t know quite what season it is when the Fellowship are in Lórien but I’ve also changed a bit of stuff in the timeline as well (i.e. Legolas having just left and then a few months later they’re in Lórien, which is not movie or book-verse…oh well). I don’t own anything (except for my OC’s) and it all belongs to Tolkien, the mastah.
Author’s Note: “Orod nin” means “my mountain.”

Chapter 11

Things came together quickly the next day concerning their belongings and then happily discovered that the rest of their party was to include Rúmil, Anameleth and a few other elves, one of which being Gwaeron’s sparring-mate, Daugion. He seemed quite joyful that particular day and greeted them both with a slightly hidden grin. Véredhiel seemed to catch his eye, especially.
“Is this the elfling you talked of, ranger?” He stopped his work briefly and turned to Gwaeron and the small child she carried on one hip. Verry smiled and hid behind her shoulder, playfully flirting with him.
“Yes, this is our daughter, Véredhiel.” Gwaeron took the baby’s arm and managed to get her to wave at the tall elf, causing his seemingly stern features break into an enthralled smile as he stepped toward her. Once his hand came close enough Véredhiel leaned forward and grabbed his forefinger in her petite hand, giggling wildly.
“Perhaps you would like to hold her, Daugion? She’s been blessed as a great judge of character, I think.” Gwaeron remarked with a knowing grin and she easily helped the child into his arms once she received a dazed nod from Daugion, the little one already reaching out for him. Bouncing her slightly against his broad chest, Verry reached out and clapped her little hands to his jaw and mouth, pulling his lips inadvertently into a smile.
“You like to make faces for me, do you?” He asked the baby sweetly and she started mouthing ‘d’ words to try and reply. Gwaeron turned away at the sound of her name being called by her fiancée and let Daugion have a moment with her daughter to go to Orophin. Her beau stood leaning heavily against Rúmil, for his injuries bothered him most in the mornings, both standing beside the large half-draft palomino that she remembered as Voronwië, Haldir’s horse. She came up to Orophin and he shifted his weight to take her hand, addressing her with a reminiscent quality to his voice.
“Rúmil and I have agreed that you should be the one to inherit Haldir’s mount. You have a way with creatures, I know. I believe he would trust you with his Voron, you are too kind to deal harshly.” Gwaeron smiled sorely and reached out to rub the stallion’s great muzzle.
“We should leave soon, the sun is almost up.” Rúmil suggested and with a nod from his elder brother left to help everyone finish readying for the journey. Orophin led her to the side and helped his lady ranger to mount the tall horse, strapping a few extra belongings onto Voron’s back.
“He will serve you well, faril nin.” Orophin said to her while brushing the horse’s mane meaningfully, no doubt thinking of when Haldir had sat in her place upon Voronwië’s back. Gwaeron leaned down slightly and put a supportive hand on his, gaining his attention and a faint smile.
Orophin’s massive dappled gray was brought to him and he stubbornly mounted on his own, wincing only a little as he swung his right and injured leg over. Bringing the brutish mare around to face Daugion’s mount ahead, he trotted over and retrieved his daughter from the galadrim’s lap, placing her carefully in his own so that she played with his fingers intermingled with the mare’s long mane. A grim, very protective, look passed between the two edhil before Gwaeron beckoned Orophin and he led the dark gray over beside her equally large palomino.
“Is everyone ready? I was told that the Lord and Lady would meet us at the gates of the City.” She informed her fiancée and he looked around and nodded, guiding his horse into a comfortable trot, smooth even for the mare’s magnificent size. They made it quickly to the edge of the wooded city of Caras Galadhon and were given beautiful leaved brooches- not unlike those given to the Fellowship- and a fond goodbye from Celeborn and Galadriel.
Their plan was to follow the Anduin South until the South Undeep, and there they would meet with the party from Imladris, traveling through the East emnet of Rohan and over the Entwash through to Minas Tirith in the East. It would take little over a month at the leisurely pace they intended to keep to, and by nightfall the day they had reached the beginning of the field of Celebrant. Every other horse had a tent packed onto it and it was not long before the efficient elves had set up light camp and a singular fire for cooking. The company not in such a rush this time as to only eat waybread for the length of the trip.
After thoroughly rubbing down Laesneniel, Orophin let his steed loose to graze with the others and limped through the medium length reeds and grass to his huntress and their daughter. Verry lay stretched out on her back in her mother’s crossed legs, her healthy baby’s belly rising and falling with each breath of slumber. Her ada knelt stiffly by them and sat on the grass with a grimace thinly concealed. He wrapped his arm around Gwaeron and kissed her temple as she leaned against him.
“How are you? It was a long ride today.” She asked him and commented quietly, looking up at him from his shoulder. Orophin sighted gently and glanced down.
“I have never been so sore in my life. It is frustrating beyond belief.” He growled the last and looked skywards. Gwaeron stroked his knee and smiled, gazing down at her little one sleeping soundly. The smell of wood fire and boiling soup wafted over to them and eventually Orophin’s stiffness relaxed and she felt him melt into a more comfortable position.
“You could have stayed home, my love.” She murmured in jest and he turned to her sharply.
“Never would I allow you to leave me… it is impossible to rid yourself of me now, faril nin.” Orophin declared in all sobriety before tightening his hold on her shoulders. That was all she needed to hear.
The next few days passed in much the same manner, and finally the night before they were to meet with the Rivendell troupe, Gwaeron managed to convince her betrothed to let her tend his injuries. He brought her into his tent and hooked the flap open so that anyone could freely see within. She knelt on the ground and laid out her fresh bandages and salves, bidding Orophin to lie down beside her. He took off his large tunic and made a pillow for himself before lying on his back.
“You should have let me change these the other day when I first asked, my love. Your poison wound is still partially infected.” He plucked a few reeds from the earth as she peeled off the encrusted cloth pressed against his shoulder, grimacing though he bit his tongue in attempt not to. She wet a small rag and wiped at the dried puss around the puncture wound, pressing her other hand against his chest when he would not be still.
“I could swear, Orophin! How did you act when Lady Galadriel tended you?” She exclaimed and he smiled through a grunt, baring his teeth at her like an animal.
“Lady Galadriel,” He ground out,
“Had four strong elves and my Lord Celeborn himself holding me against that bed. You are strong, faril nin, but I doubt strong enough to overcome my stubbornness.” She laughed and flashed him a warning of a grin before pushing heavily on his gut, making him groan for the loss of breath. As he growled and gasped for air she quickly finished cleaning the injury and put a fresh amount of ointment and bandaging on top.
“Blast you, wicked woman! You’re going to kill me.” He caught his breath at last and cursed her with a mischievous glint in his bright blue eyes. Gwaeron pretended to pout and leaned over him to kiss his nose.
“Forgive my actions, love. It’s reflexive, I’m afraid, if someone challenges me.” She giggled and finally managed a chuckle out of him, his hand reaching up to hold the hair out of her face and against her head.
“I shall be certain never to do it again.” He murmured gently and pulled her forward until their lips almost touched.
“It’s a good thing you left that flap open! Who knows what could’ve happened otherwise!” Rúmil bellowed in a boisterous voice and the two jolted away from each other, blushing profusely at having been caught. Gwaeron rose and stamped menacingly toward her soon to be brother-in-law.
“Now leave us be, you dunce! I can hardly expect you didn’t steal a kiss from Ana before you got onto binding yourselves in secret!” The elf ran from her with a laugh and she threw a well-aimed clod of dirt and weeds at his rear end before returning to Orophin with a self-conscious chuckle. Kneeling once more beside her betrothed and pushing him onto his back from where he had so suddenly sat up, she wrapped a roll of gauze around his shoulder and across his chest silently, not fully meeting his gaze.
Orophin studied her first with amusement at the blush that covered her cheeks and neck, but then reverently as she cared for his infirmities quietly and more proficiently than he had seen anyone besides the Lady do herself. She glanced at him sidelong and her blush deepened to crimson on fair skin in the dark of the firelight.
“You’re quite a mother hen, you know that?” He remarked to lighten her embarrassment and she laughed and tilted her head modestly.
“I can only hope you’re right on the ‘mother’ account at least. It has been too long since I had an example on the matter.” She shrugged, though the thoughts of her own mother could be plainly seen in the emerald pools that served as her eyes. He steadied her busy hand upon his right side and drew her attention as calmly as he could, though his blood pumped nervously through his veins at their proximity and his desired topic.
“I can assure you, I would like to prove that you are. I confess I have thought, perhaps a bit much, of Véredhiel having brothers or sisters. Would, once we are married, would you be opposed to such?” Gwaeron’s gaze grew darker and softened at his tone of voice, causing her to glow beautifully.
“I must say I would not at all be opposed. There is no doubt between the two of us we’ve enough love to supply a couple or few children.” She helped him back into his tunic as she said this and she noted his smile only grew brighter. Orophin took her by the shoulders and ran one hand up to touch her cheek, his expression elated.
“Gwaeron, you cannot know how much I love you.” His voice was deep and allowed no argument to oppose this statement as he took her lovingly and parted her lips with his own, caring not that their entire camp could come upon them if they wished.
“Arwen!” Gwaeron called to her step-sister without decorum, receiving an enthusiastic wave from the young Evenstar. Their respective parties met near the river’s edge and all dismounted to greet and make something of a lunch. Véredhiel sat before her father on his great mare and watched the curious exchange between her mother and this unknown dark-haired elleth.
“Gwaeron, how I’ve needed you since you left! I have such wonderful news to tell, and I want to hear everything that I’ve missed.” Elrond’s only daughter gushed to her best friend while the Lord of Imladris himself went to greet Orophin, the latter in the process of his painful dismount. Taking Véredhiel off the tall horse and holding her comfortably to his chest, Orophin bowed to half-elven lord, receiving one in turn.
“It is good to see our kin from the Golden Wood once more.” Elrond greeted very diplomatically and the marchwarden briefly wondered if he had done something offensive to receive so cold a welcome. His fears were soon allayed, however, when the dark-haired elf looked down and smiled at the sleepy infant in his grasp.
“And this is the little one my mother-in-law has told me of, is it?” He got a tired smile from her as he reached for her tiny hand and Orophin held her proudly for him to see.
“Yes, my lord. This is my daughter, Véredhiel.” Elrond glanced up to him.
“Your daughter?” Orophin nodded, glancing with a spark in his eyes to Gwaeron.
“Yes, lord. It has been agreed that Gwaeron and I are to be her parents, we will be married soon in Minas Tirith.” Gwaeron then came up to them at hearing her betrothed speak her name and stood on his other side facing her step-father. Arwen cooed and scooped Verry gently out of the warden’s grasp, the little one playing up to her attention and grabbing at the long braids of her newfound aunt’s hair. Elrond looked expectantly to Gwaeron and the seemingly small ranger shrank back slightly under her foster-father’s scrutiny, looking like a child who had broken an expensive furnishing.
“Ada, will you not congratulate us?” She asked him hopefully, begging him silently to approve of their mortal and Firstborn union. He paused for a long moment as she held her breath. His smile appeared seamless once the tension was at last broken and he reached out to grasp Orophin’s forearm in a companionable gesture, but Gwaeron saw an air of duality in it though she said nothing at present.
“Of course I will congratulate you, I was simply waiting until the evening meal when it would be more appropriate to toast you both in front of everyone.” Sensing his underlying purpose to stall for time, Gwaeron received his embrace naturally but sent him a silent look to inform him she wanted to have a word. He understood, perceptive as he was, and linked her arm into his. She turned to Orophin and gave him a small, lingering kiss on the lips before assuring him,
“We’ll be back soon, love.” He nodded and kissed her cheek as well, glancing warily to the Rivendell lord as he took his faril away.
“Ada, where are you sons? Arwen only told me that they were not in your party.” Gwaeron began, attempting to draw his attention away from her betrothed for a moment at least. He sighed and looked away from her at a few wild flowers springing out of the hardened ground.
“They went with a group of Dúnedain to aid your brother. It was they that brought him the shards of Narsil re-forged into Anduril. They wait with him in Minas Tirith for us to arrive.” Her eyes brightened naturally at the mention of the sword and her brother. Somehow the mention of it all was so surreal, she could hardly believe their prayers had finally been answered. Elrond stopped then and gently turned his foster-daughter to face him in all seriousness.
“Gwaeron… Are you sure of what you are doing? You must know that he cannot choose between mortality and an elf’s age as my line can. When you die it could likely break his heart, and to an elf, my daughter, that is fatal. It was almost so for me when Celebrían left for Valinor. Who would be a parent for that child? This is not something to be taken lightly.” She remained obediently silent for most of his speech but could not help herself when he implied that they had not thought deeply or simply decided this on a whim.
“It has not been taken lightly!” Her green eyes blazed gem-like in her gaze and they, for a moment, took him aback.
“Ask any elf in our travel party and they can assure you how long and hard we’ve deliberated over this. I spent nearly months in agony after having rejected him upon my arrival. I was plagued by visions of his death and could not eat or sleep because of it! Orophin, also, was so close to fading when I released him to find his own mate. Had not Lady Galadriel, herself, given him hope of my love before their departure to Helm’s Deep, he would have let himself be killed for our love! He would die for me and we would both gladly give our lives for Véredhiel’s safety. Ada, please let me assure you, not one of our actions in this has been made lightly or in haste.” Tears fell down her cheeks after prodding such fresh wounds in her memory and she watched as Elrond’s expression changed from surprised, to concerned, then to admiration at each turn.
“I had no idea, Gwaeron…” He murmured but as she made to turn away, he pulled her to him in a fatherly embrace, nestling her head against his shoulder.
“So there’s no telling you he’s not good enough?” He added slightly in jest and she looked up to him with a smile and shining eyes.
“I’m not letting go of him again, Ada. The last time nearly killed me.” He smiled sorely down at her and glanced back to their bivouac, seeing Orophin on the ground feeding their daughter a bottle. She would be well protected and cared for, that was certain above anything.
“Blast it.” He mumbled remorsefully though his expression was not bitter and his daughter looked up to him in surprise, he rarely cursed.
“What is it?” He looked back to her and sighed, forcing a smile.
“It’s just that I seem to be losing both of my daughters at the same time. My only commiseration is that they are both going to good men.” His face was sad and she knit her brows together before going on her tiptoes to kiss his cheek warmly, like she used to every cold morning in Rivendell when she awoke. The elven lord smiled at her, remembering that time as well as her, and wrapped his hand around her waist as they began to walk back to their parties.
“You look well, lad. It is a blessing you returned from Rohan when you did.” Glorfindel came up to Orophin as he sat feeding his daughter and knelt down beside him to get a glimpse of the sleepy infant. The golden elf gave him a secretive smile and nodded to the babe in his lap.
“It would seem you had more to live for than you originally thought… She has your eyes.” The balrog-slayer said and carefully brushed his palm agin to Véredhiel’s curly hair, silently recognizing where she got that trait from as well for he knew that coloring better than most. Orophin only nodded, beaming down at his child until he looked up to see Gwaeron coming to him with a slightly moistened face. She came to kneel at his side and smiled at Glorfindel warmly before beginning to rub her beau’s stiff shoulders. The golden lord inclined his head and smiled in turn as he took in the precious sight of their small family. There was no doubt in his mind their circumstances had been divinely thought out and planned. He rose with an informal nod and left to help with the setting up of a lunch.
“Where is Arwen, my love?” She asked Orophin lightly, for she knew he’d seen her distressed state and hoped to take his mind off it for a small moment. He shook his head and then lolled it to one side as she rubbed a particularly pleasing spot between his shoulder blades.
“I’m not sure, perhaps assisting with the meal.” Véredhiel burped gently when he sat the lethargic child up and he nestled her into the crook of his arm to sleep. Gwaeron smiled down at their daughter, sighing when Orophin turned to kiss her near her ear.
“Are you all right, faril nin?” He asked her quietly and she leaned on his back contentedly, surveying the surrounding commotion and enjoying their little oasis of calm.
“Right now I am perfect, orod nin… perfect.”
The next few days riding into Rohan were pleasant until one morning dawned darker and every elf was on edge with the feeling of alarm. Orophin didn’t let Gwaeron stray from his side and likewise kept Véredhiel close in arms or in his betrothed’s care. Gwaeron had never seen him tenser and she was convinced along with everyone else that there was something terribly wrong in these horse-lands she had so often frequented in her ranger years.
“Daugion, take someone ahead and scout for danger.” Rúmil ordered the galadrim and he and Meldiriel galloped out of line and over the nearest knoll of boulders in their immediate path. The caravan halted for several moments instead of going through the rocky area that could very well hide a small army behind its boulders. The horses became fidgety and the silence was broken only by their snorts and Tar’s uneasy whimpering as he paced around them. Gwaeron glanced to her fiancée and noted he had already strung and readied his long bow.
Their attention was drawn quickly at the sound of a mangled bellow that was certainly not elf-kind. Orc. Meldiriel was quickly seen hurrying back to them on her faintly painted mare and shouted her warning as more noise formed behind her.
“Yrch! Yrch! They are nigh upon us, three score at the least!” She pivoted her high-strung animal and drew another arrow as more hastily armed elves rode to aid. Those that walked were quick to lead the supply horses away and Anameleth rode instantly to Gwaeron and took Véredhiel out of her arms.
“Go with them, quickly! You are needed.” Ana pushed her ranger friend in the right direction and Gwaeron hesitated only to draw her sword before digging her heels into Voronwië’s girth and bolting the stallion into forward motion. Tar barked and ran after the fleeing horses to help get in on the action.
As Gwaeron rounded the nearest rock she was surprised to see clearly more than thirty orcs and goblins attacking them from behind near every stone and bush. Arrows buzzed in the air of both elven and orcish design and she rode fearlessly through their hasty flights to plow over an unfortunate monster in her path. The war-horse crushed many an advancing enemy and it was not long until the abundant black blood stained her long blade.
A shriek from above shocked her and a thrawn goblin jumped down on top of her from a tall rock formation, knocking her clear off the tall steed with a crash onto other fallen orcs. Their landing jarred her head terribly but before she could think of defending herself, the sallow creature sat stunned and fell to the side away from her. At second glance she saw a long elven arrow protruding from the beast’s back and thanked the Valar her death her not had been so needless a one.
“Above! Watch from above!” Someone called out and Gwaeron drew her attention to the taller rocks where nearly half of the enemy had been hiding in wait. Her sword had fallen out of her grasp earlier and she stood to look for it when it appeared behind an advancing orc with its spear pointing to her chest. Reflexively, she ducked to her belly and then rolled into his way to try and trip him. But the monster hopped over her easily and dragged a spurred boot against her side in the process. She gathered her sword quickly and stood on guard as he swerved and thrust his long pike at her several times before, with a well-aimed hack, Gwaeron chopped the volatile end off and made quick work of the defenseless creature.
There was hardly time to look about her and twenty uruk, at least, had fallen by her hands when all was settled and over. She glanced up when Tar barked and bounded towards her, Orophin following close behind. His expression visibly eased when their gaze met and he ran the last few strides before crushing her against him with a deep sigh.
“When I saw your horse running without you, I feared you had been got.” He breathed heavily into her hair and stroked her back to reassure himself that she was all right.
“Voronwië bolted when an orc jumped on me and I was pushed from his back. I’m all right, but what of you?” She checked him over and he could help the grin from crossing his features, grimacing only when she grazed his right shoulder.
“I could be better. But I am in no great danger, I assure you.” He comforted her and was granted only a wary look before Lord Elrond rode up to them and confirmed that they were both all right.
“We have accounted for everyone, I think. The yrch must have come from Mordor, for I have not seen this kind myself in long years. I would not have believed them to be so violent without a leader whipping them on.” Orophin looked at the carnage around him in disgust.
“They’re desperate. They must know there is no longer hope for their survival.” His voice was grim. With one foot he flipped over a shield to reveal the faded symbol of a blood-red eye, and he felt Gwaeron shiver at his side. Looking down at her, he brushed gently through her hair with his fingers and felt a small amount of blood staining her scalp. Before he could reproach her she put a hand to her brow and shut her eyes with a sigh.
“I don’t feel well… a headache.” Orophin caught her arm as her knees gave way suddenly and she held to him with the last of her strength. Elrond called her name in alarm and Orophin instantly let out a shrill whistle to beckon his draft mare to him. Running obediently to her master, Laesneniel sidled up beside them with a nicker and at his command folded her fore legs beneath her while Gwaeron was helped into the saddle. Orophin mounted behind her and dug his heels into the mare’s flanks to speed them alongside lord Elrond’s hastening dark andalusian.
“She told me an orc felled her from the horse’s back. It could be from the fall she was hurt.” Orophin informed his destined father-in-law as they rode back to the ellith and supply horses. They rode over the hills before finding the rest of their party and Elrond dismounted and carried his daughter from Orophin’s grasp before the galadrim could even swing a leg over, himself. Gwaeron held her head where it hurt and groaned once she was laid down.
“Hush, rest now Gwaeron. You will be taken care of.” Elrond soothed and passed a hand over her eyes, allowing her furrowed brow to ease and relax. Orophin was soon at her side and took her hand, only then noticing the cut on her side.
“Shall I fetch you some bandaging? Gwaeron carries them in her saddle-bag.” He offered but the peredhil Lord waved him off.
“That will not be necessary. I have salves enough to care for her wounds.”
“Orophin…” She murmured his name softly and turned toward the silver-haired edhel though her eyes remained closed. Elrond glanced between them as he cleaned the spots of blood away from her head and a sudden spike of jealousy overcame him.
“Orophin let her rest. She stays awake only for your sake. Go and see to your child, leave me to mine.” The Lorien elf glared at him only a moment before leaning down to press a lingering kiss against her cheek
“I’ll be back when you’re finished.” Elrond acknowledged him only with a slight nod and Orophin stood to tether his horse to a proper hitch.
“Orophin! I have your wife’s steed.” Glorfindel rode up to the injured galadrim with Voronwië close in tow beside his Asfaloth. Orophin smiled.
“She is not my wife yet, my friend. I thank you.” Glorfindel laughed and tossed him the reins of the great palomino before dismounting his own pearl-white thoroughbred. Glancing to his half-elven friend and his injured step-daughter, Glorfindel then watched Orophin carefully.
“How is your huntress? I caught an orc upon her during the battle with my bow, I did not see her again after that.” Orophin turned his head around back to her and frowned when he saw her already up and talking with her father.
“She appears fine now. Not a moment ago I had thought her unconscious. I think lord Elrond does not approve of me.” He sighed and turned back to his golden-haired friend. Glorfindel only put a hand over his good shoulder and explained,
“You must understand, Orophin, that Gwaeron is very much a daughter in Elrond’s eyes. He has always been her only living father figure and that is not something one gives up willingly. You will understand soon enough when it is your turn to give a daughter away. Elrond must now have two taken from him.” Before Orophin thought of how to respond he was called behind him by Anameleth and turned to see her approaching with Véredhiel reaching for him in her arms. She giggled happily when he took her and clapped her little hands against his chest with a squeal. Orophin smiled genuinely and cooed to his daughter, rubbing his nose into her cheek playfully as her lips formed nonsensical baby words in a high-pitched voice.
It was then that Glorfindel’s words hit home and he could think of nothing worse, short of seeing Gwaeron taken from him, than Véredhiel leaving him alone. Ana left them upon seeing her husband approach and Glorfindel needed only to look Orophin in the eyes to see that nothing else need be said. Orophin had now, a small taste, of what Elrond would probably feel for the rest of his life. Véredhiel placed her chubby hands on either side of his face and seemed to study him closely as tears began to well in his eyes. She jabbered something unintelligible in a softer voice and then simply laid herself on one shoulder close to his neck in exhaustion, breathing deeply while he rubbed her back with one large hand. All he knew was right then, he would hold and protect her as a father only could.