The Dare

This chapter involves a crossover with Novedhelion's Trust to Hope. I am grateful that I could be a part of such a great story. Thank you, Nove!

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I awoke with a start. I had fallen asleep next to Eored. He was still sleeping but his breath was strong and even. I touched his hand and did not feel the bone-chilling cold that had been there before. I took the black and silver cloak that had been tucked around me. It was Dior’s. I shook my head. He seemed to think my wool forest cloak inadequate. I carefully folded it and laid it near Eored’s bed, then went to find water to splash on my face. Ioreth passed me in the hallway. “Good, you’re awake. You’re wanted in the halls.” She pointed toward the large hall in front of me. It was one of a series of interconnecting large rooms and they were all full of wounded. I sighed.

Ioreth looked at me sharply. “You alright, girl?”

“Yes, Mistress Ioreth. Just tired.”

“Your brother?”

“He lives. Lord Aragorn and the elves with him healed him.’

“Praise the Valar! I knew that man was special.” Then she took a good look at me. “You need a bath, girl.”

“As do we all. But I would settle for a bowl of clean water and a clean tunic.” I said with a smile.
She led me to a small alcove where a stand was. On it was a pitcher of water, a bowl and a towel. “I’ll go try to find a clean tunic or apron for you.”

I splashed the water on my face, trying to clean some of the grime off. My hair was sticky and tangled. I pulled it back with a kerchief . I daydreamed about the bath at my Aunt’s home. Large, made of marble, and filled to the brim with soapy sweet smelling bubbles. Somehow, a vision of Dior entered the picture. I was in the tub and he was leaning over to give me a kiss… “Here, this is all I could find.” Ioreth’s voice interrupted my dream. I blushed.

“Thank you Mistress Ioreth.” I stammered out as she handed me a clean tunic. She looked at me but said nothing. I changed and went to the first room.

In the afternoon, I went to check on the White Lady and the perian.
“My Lady?” Eowyn looked up.

“You are not one of the old women I usually see. You are Éothéod too.” she quipped.

“Yes, my Lady. My name is Eolindë. I am from the Southfold. My uncle Léod supplies the court with monscinan.”

“Ah, and fine monscinan it is.” she said with a slight smile. “But how did you come to be here?”

“I am a trained healer. My father is from Minas Tirith, I was visiting here when the battle came. My brother serves under the Lord Faramir. May I see your arm?” She nodded. I carefully looked at the arm and retied the sling. “You are healing, my Lady. You should eat,” I said, noting the tray near by. A bleak look was in her eyes.

“I don’t feel like eating,” she said as she turned away.

“Please try anyway.”

“I said I don’t feel like eating.” she said sharply with an angry look.

“Very well.” I stood up and turned to leave. Something inside compelled me to speak. I turned to face her.
“My Lady. I must tell you that you inspired me.” The words tumbled out and I blushed furiously. “Because of you, my father taught me to fight. I am able to defend myself and my loved ones if need be.” She eyed me curiously. “Learning to fight also gave me the courage to seek my own path, as a healer, which has led me here.” I finished with a whoosh of breath.

“I did not ask to be admired.” she said coldly.

“Nonetheless, you are and I think I am not the only one who feels this way.”

I turned and left the room as she began to sip on some broth. I next checked on the perian Merry. He was sitting up in his bed with Pippin beside him. He looked up.

“Well aren’t you a pretty one?” he said with some cheek. Pippin cuffed him.

“Don’t be silly. This lady is a healer. She is the one who had the athelas that helped you.”

“My apologies, my lady. I have only seen old women until now.” I smiled at his cheekiness.

“Apology accepted Master Meriodoc. I understand that you rode with the King.” I said as I checked him over.

A frown crossed his sweet face. “He is dead,” he said flatly.

“But he died with honor and you have honor of your own. You stood by the Lady Eowyn. Not many can boast of attacking a Nazgul,” I said.

He shuddered involuntarily and a shadow crossed his face.

“Master Merry, you are on the mend. Go out in the courtyard and get some air,” I said patting his head. He smiled and Pippin led him away.

I hesitated before going into Faramir’s room. Would it be presumptuous of me to visit him? As I struggled with my propriety, Master Cirin walked by. “Ah, there you are. The Lord Faramir was asking about you.”

I looked up startled. “He was asking about me?”

“Yes. Now go on.”

I stepped quietly into the room. Faramir lay on his bed. I held my breath. His shoulder was in a sling and he looked pale but that did not detract from his looks.

“My lord?” I asked quietly.

“Eolindë!” he sat up with a smile.

“My little healer from Rohan. How are you?”

“I should be asking you that, my lord.” I said

“Well, I am better as you can see. What of your brother?”

“He is on the mend. He fell under the Black Breath as you did. The Lord Aragorn, with help from some elves, was able to heal him.”

“I am glad. Your brother is a brave man. He stayed with me to the end and almost paid for it with his life.” he said quietly. “Master Cirin tells me you were the one who supplied Lord Aragorn with the athelas.”

“Yes, my lord. I harvested it while on our foray.”

“I remember. Tis a good thing I let you come then isn’t it?” he said.

“The ways of the spirits are mysterious. But, I must be going. I have other patients to see. It is good to see you healthy again.”

“But what of you, Eolindë? How are you? The past few days can not have been easy for you,” he said gently.

“I am as well as can be expected when one has little rest or food for 3 days.” I said in a jesting tone.

“Seeing men die while you are helpless. That is no laughing matter.” he said seriously.

“No, my lord. But if I do not laugh, I will cry. Besides, there were so many that you didn’t have time to grieve the ones you could not save.” I replied.

“You are wise beyond your years, Eolindë. But do not forget to grieve. It can be healing in it’s own way.” he said gently.

I looked at him curiously and then remembered that my king was dead.

“Speaking of grief, I must go pay my respects to my king. He lies your great hall.”

“I have heard. I am sorry for Rohan’s loss.” he said quietly.

“Rest well, my lord.”

“You too Eolindë.”

I told Annith where I was going. She murmured some words of sympathy. I gathered my cloak and belted on my sword. After a few wrong turns and many questions, I was able to find my way to the great hall where my king lay. He had been laid on the dais, his body covered with a cloth of gold. His sword lay unsheathed upon the covering and his shield at his feet. I made my way towards him and kneeling before the king, I began to sing quietly. It was an old tune but a familiar one. Words of praise for the heroic deeds of my king who fulfilled his oath and died with honor.

I bowed again and stood. I finished by saying, “Hlaford ac Cyningmín, restest nú arlice freod binnan se hus fæders eower.” Then I turned and was surprised to see the young woman I had seen earlier standing by the door.

She smiled at me with a nod of recognition. “Who are you?” I asked her. “I saw you in the Houses earlier.”

“I am Anhuíl,” she answered.

I looked her over. She was not dark like most of the Gondorians I knew. “You are not of the Éothéod,” I observed.

She smiled. “No, I am not. Dol Amroth is my home.”

“Éolindë, I am called, daughter of Telmenir of the Southfold. Do you come to pay respects to our king?” I asked. I was curious about this woman from the sea coast. Most people from the south looked down on the Eotheod.

“Yes, I do.” She walked slowly to the dais, kneeling before the king. “Tego le i Melian le na mar,” she said softly, before rising to her feet. The lilt in her voice was strange one. I had not heard it before. Her words sounded elvish but she spoke so softly that I could not tell. She turned to me and said. “I am not familiar with the customs of Rohan in such matters. I apologize for my ignorance.”

“Do not apologize, my friend,” I responded. “I am equally ignorant of the customs of Gondor. And of the language.”

She smiled at me while we walked slowly toward the arched doorway. “It seems we could learn much from each other, Eolindë,” the princess stated as the guards creaked open the heavy doors to allow the women passage. “You are a healer? You are very young.”

“Yes,” I answered. “My family would have much preferred I choose another path, but this is the one my feet are upon and I will not falter. What about you?”

“I am no healer,” Anhuil admitted. “I was trying to help where I could. I fear I did little but fold bandages and hold hands.”

“Touching the dying is often as important as saving lives,” I said flatly. “It is not always something we healers can do, as our focus is upon the living. Do not discount the gift that the small comfort of a hand to hold is to a dying man.”

“You are wise beyond your years, Eolindë,” Anhuíl commented.

I laughed softly, remembering Faramir’s words to me earlier. “Only of some things.” I replied.

We walked in silence for a moment. “Eolindë, did you ever meet your king, or any of his kin?”

Halting my steps, I looked at her, startled by the question. “I have visited Edoras a few times.” I replied slowly. “I was there when my brother swore his oath as a knight of the Mark, and my uncle supplies monscinan to Edoras.”

“Monscinan?”

“I believe your word for it is silith.” I answered with a smile

She giggled slightly. “Silith? The appeal is universal, I see.”

I continued. “I never met king’s kin, although the Lady Éowyn did inspire me to learn to fight.” Her eyes flickered to the sword that hung at my side. “But I am a healer at heart, and I will only fight if necessary.” I walked slowly to the edge of the bridge before the Citadel, stopped and leaned on the stone rail. I paused, taking a deep breath. Maybe she knows something about men. I thought, ‘I should ask her. It can’t hurt.’ “Anhuíl, this may sound a trifle silly, but I have no sister and no other women close to my age with which to speak. May I ask you a question?”

“Certainly you may ask,” she answered, “and I will try to answer.”

“What do you know of love?” I blurted out.

Anhuíl seemed a bit taken aback at my question. While trying to formulate her response, I continued quickly. “I thought I was in love with someone, but he did not return my affections.”

“That is sometimes the way of it,” she said sadly.

“But there is another. Someone close to me. A friend. I think he may have feelings for me.” I looked away and stared off into the distance, across the Pelennor.

“You think? Has he kissed you?” she grinned mischievously.

I felt the heat rise in my face as I answered shyly. “Yes.”

“And?”

“It made me feel...tingly and safe, at the same time. But I am afraid.” I turned to face her.

“Afraid of what?”

“I do not know,” I answered. “My father fell fighting with the Rohirrim. My twin brother rode with Faramir to Osgiliath, and was grievously wounded. I have lost so many friends, both Rohirrim and Gondorian. Men I cared for, men I sparred with. I was in the House of Healing, treating the wounded. I have closed the eyes of many to this life. I have seen more death in the past few days than in all my life before. I am afraid to feel, lest I lose another I care for.” I said quickly.

She seemed to think for a minute and answered carefully, “Eolindë, I am no expert on love. But I fail to see how being in love with one’s best friend could ever be a mistake. Who better to spend your life with than someone with whom you already have common ground? You cannot let the death of others rob you of your own life, healer or no. I, too, was in the Houses, and held the hands of many of the dying. You cannot allow your fear of the future to rule your present, Eolindë. Do not shun happiness in favor of complacency. If love be not reason enough to take a risk, than what is? Do you love him?”

“I do not know,” I answered honestly. “I fear I might. How do I know?”

Anhuíl’s lips curved into a knowing smile. “You will know, Eolindë. When he is the first thing you think of when your eyes open and the last thing you think of before they close, when you find yourself thinking of him at odd times during the day, or you see something and think to yourself that he would have liked to see that, or when you have a bit of good news and the first person you want to tell is him...you will know.”

“It all seems like such nonsense, when I think about it. I mean, how can I be in love with a man I have known my whole life?”

“Think not with this,” she said, tapping my forehead. “Think with this.” She lightly tapped my chest. “Do not try to make sense of love, Eolindë. It will defy you at every turn.”

I chuckled at this statement. “You sound as if you speak from experience, Anhuíl.” I said.

“Let us just say that you should count yourself fortunate to make this decision for yourself.” she said with a sad smile.

I was puzzled by her answer and wanted to ask what she meant. But the look on her face told me that it was a sensitive subject so I held my tongue.

“Eolindë! I have searched everwhere for you!” A familiar voice called out, loping up to where we stood.

“Dior!” I said in surprise.

He bowed politely Anhuil. “Begging your pardon, miss, but Eolindë is needed in the Houses.” He turned back to me. “Your brother is awake, and he is asking for you.”

‘Awake? Elred is awake? Herigean Bema!” I turned to Anhuíl. “I must go.”

“Of course,” she agreed. “I was headed there myself to check on a few patients. We can go together.”

“Come on, Eolindë! He is most anxious to see you.” Dior took my hand and began pulling me down the street. After seeing Elred, who complained of beign hungry, I went hunting for my new friend.

“Anhuil!” I called as I spotted her in the hallway.

Turning sharply at the sound of her name, she faced me.

“I wanted to thank you, Anhuil. You have given me much to think about.” I said.

“You are welcome, Eolindë. I do hope soon our paths will cross again.”

“You will be at the Houses, will you not?” I asked.

Anhuil shook her head. “I am sorry, Eolindë, but I have been called home to Dol Amroth. I will be leaving on the morrow, at first light.”

“That is sad news. I had so hoped we could become friends.”

“I believe we have,” she answered with a smile.

“I wish I could repay you for the kind words,” I said.

Anhuil thought for a moment. “Tell me something, Eolindë. How do you say ‘I love you’ in Rohirric?”

“Ic freonde ge. Why?” I asked curiously.

“I was curious. I love languages,” she answered innocently.

“Would that you were going to be here longer, I could teach you much,” I told her.

“I will have to take you up on that on my next visit, Healer,” she teased. “Take care of your twin. And your soldier.” I blushed at her mention of Dior.

“Wes ðu hâl, Anhuil,” I said as I held out my hands. “Be thou well.” I translated.

“Namarië, mellonmin,” she answered, grasping my hands in her own. “Farewell, my friend.” she translated. And at that we parted.