Chapter Thirteen

***

Corwyn awoke early that morning. She stood up, feeling disoriented. When she remembered where she was, her heart fell. Even though she had held Haldir’s dead body in her arms, she had still somewhat hoped it had all been a dream. But as she looked around her, she realized it wasn’t.

She walked out of the small enclosure, leaving Éowyn sleeping peacefully. She picked her way through the still dozing Men and Elves, finding her way to the exit and stepping outside.

The air was cool and damp, bringing a slight chill to her arms. She treaded to the stone wall and gazed into the distance, which was just beginning to show signs of the coming dawn. But the rising sun did not shine, for the sky was a plain, flat grey. She wrapped her arms about her and headed down a row of steps, going to Haldir’s body.

She stopped when the body came into sight. There was someone crouched down beside it. And that someone had long blonde hair and carried a quiver.

As Corwyn approached, she could hear Legolas speaking softly to Haldir.

“You weren’t supposed to fall, my friend,” he whispered, “you know as well as I that seeing her saddened is like being so yourself.”

Corwyn stopped, touched by Legolas’s words, and the concern in his voice. Legolas continued. “I know you wanted me to take care of her if you fell, but now I ask you, how I am to do that?” he paused thoughtfully.

Corwyn was incredulous. Haldir had told Legolas to take care of her?

“I do not know if she will be open to me, Haldir, even if we were both her eldar, for she loves you. But I promise you I will do my best.” Legolas lowered his voice as he spoke a bit more. Corwyn strained to hear it, but could not make anything out. She took a step closer, but as she did so she stepped on an orc blade, which clattered loudly. Legolas turned around, surprised. He look a bit embarrassed when he realized it was Corwyn.

“You are up early, my lady,” he said, hoping she had not heard him.

Corwyn walked over and sat beside him, staring at Haldir. She figured it would be for the best to pretend she had heard nothing. “My sleep did not stay for long. I fear my mind is too preoccupied.”

“As well it should be. But you do not weep today, Haldir would be pleased.”

Corwyn looked at Legolas. Then she looked at the sky again. It was the same insipid shade of grey. Only now a few fat raindrops were falling, splashing onto the stone.

“It is a very grey day, Legolas. The sky reflects my mood. I feel flat, impassive. I have no more tears to shed that might make the day darker, nor do have any smiles to brighten it. I am simply nothing. Not here nor there.”

“Even on the darkest of days, we know the sun will return.”

Corwyn reached a hand out and stroked Haldir’s matted hair. “I fear the rest of my days are destined to be grey.”

Legolas looked at the sky, then at Corwyn’s face. They did look remarkably alike. No longer did Corwyn’s green eyes sparkle. They now were blank, showing no emotion as her hand ran repeatedly over Haldir’s cheek. Even her hair seemed dull. It did not shine, but instead hung limply about her face. He reflected for a moment.

“Grey is not such a bad color,” he said quietly, turning her face to his. “For it is made up of both black and white. Evil is black, good is white.”

Corwyn was surprised to find that she was losing herself in Legolas’s deep eyes. She averted her gaze guiltily, upset that she was forgetting about Haldir.

“And today, Corwyn, there is much evil,” Legolas continued, not noticing Corwyn’s discomfort. “But you yourself observed that it is a grey day. For it to be grey, doesn’t that mean that there must be white in it as well?”

Corwyn mulled over this. It was true, the day was grey. She knew what the black was, as well: her Haldir was dead; she would never hear his voice again, she would never feel his touch. And today he was to be buried, proving those facts to everyone. But then where was the white? What was the white? Something good must be happening to her… though she could not think of anything at the present time.

Legolas reached over and took her hand. She looked at him. He stood up, pulling her to her feet.

“Go in, Corwyn. I will ready Haldir for burial. You do not need any more discord in your life.”

Corwyn nodded slowly, tiredly. She began to walk away, but turned and watched as Legolas picked Haldir up, his eyes full of sadness and reverence. She felt like crying, but no tears came. Legolas turned, holding Haldir’s limp body.

“What is the white, Legolas? I cannot see any.” Corwyn asked, her eyes fixed on Haldir.

“You must allow your eyes to see, my lady,” Legolas answered softly. “They will find the good.”

Corwyn closed her eyes for a moment, and then turned back around, heading to the Keep. “I’m just afraid that I might be blind to the white, no matter how hard I try,” she said to herself.

She walked back into the Keep, and found her way to Orophin’s bedside. His skin was back to a normal color and he appeared to be sleeping soundly, showing no signs of being near death. She sat down and pulled her knees to her chest, then buried her head in her arms, and allowed herself to succumb to the grayness.

***

It was Éowyn who finally came over to Corwyn and roused her.

“We are leaving for Edoras now, Corwyn of Lorien,” she said. “Here, this is for you.”

Corwyn lifted her head as Éowyn deposited a garment in her lap. Corwyn picked it up, revealing it to be a long, silver dress. It was beautifully made, elegant and tapered, with long sleeves that flared out at the elbow and a neckline trimmed in glittery silver ribbon. And with it was a long silver veil.

“I cannot accept this from you, Éowyn,” Corwyn breathed.

Éowyn smiled and helped Corwyn to her feet. “It is not from me, so no worries. It is from Legolas. He said that it was a grey day indeed, and that there was enough black in the mix already, so you are to wear this on the ride to Edoras.”

Corwyn’s eyes crinkled at the edges, but she did not say another word as she headed to change before the procession would begin.

***

The sky has not changed shades, Corwyn observed as she allowed Eomer to help her onto the back of the little bay horse. It is still grey. And I still have my black…

She flipped the veil over her face and looked ahead of her. Four elves from Lothlorien were heaving a carved wooden slab to their shoulders. On that slab rested the body of Haldir. Legolas had managed to clean him up somewhat, Corwyn was grateful for that. At least now he was lying peacefully, dressed in his now clean armor and with his golden hair spread around him.

The Men of Rohan were mounting their own horses, readying themselves for the journey back to Edoras. Some remained, of course, to tend to those too ill to travel, and to dispose of the remaining bodies. After being pestered for a decision, Corwyn had given permission for the remaining Elves to be buried, though with markers for either Rivendell or Lothlorien. She didn’t feel she truly had the authority to give such orders, but she knew having the elves buried was better than leaving them to decay above ground, and the men seemed to think her opinion was the deciding factor.

All who were traveling were mounted or ready to begin walking. A mournful horn cry sounded, and the procession began. Corwyn allowed her horse to begin walking. The line of elves and men began slowly making their way towards Edoras.

As the procession continued, the elves began to sing laments for the fallen. The sky was still pale grey, an occasional plump raindrop falling, and deadly still, highly unusual for the Riddermark. The only sound was the constant thudding of hoofbeats and footfalls, and the shifting of leather and chainmail. Even the words of the mournful dirges seemed to hang in the still air.

Corwyn turned her head and looked back at the fortress. It was becoming smaller and smaller as the group crossed the rocky plain. As she turned her head back to face forward, an unexpected wind picked up from out of nowhere. It whistled past the processions’ backs, blowing sharp streams of damp air forward. Corwyn could feel her delicate silver veil blow forward, whipping violently in the wind. Even the words of the laments were lost briefly.

Corwyn closed her eyes against the wind. It died down quickly, leaving only a slight breeze blowing across the rocks. She opened her eyes and something immediately caught her attention.

Blowing over the scraggly grasses was a chain of yellow flowers. She turned the bay out of the line and trotted over to where the chain was now stopped, caught on a rock. She dismounted.

Eomer was about to ride over to her, but Legolas stopped him. “She’ll be on her way in a moment,” he said, watching as Corwyn gently picked up the broken necklace, the one she had ripped off the night before.

She held it gently, and draped it over her horse’s neck. Then she swung back onto her mount, and picked up an easy canter, heading back to the group. She made her way back to her place in line, and then slowed to a walk. She examined her broken wreath. Just a little more black, she thought to herself, and the remains of my love.

***

Strange, how the sky has not changed over the past two days, Corwyn thought to herself as Gandalf recited a soft prayer.

The procession had arrived easily in Edoras that morning. Theoden had been more than obliging about burying Haldir, and now the marchwarden was forever resting next to the graves of the Kings of Rohan.

It was evening now and the sky was still the same unemotional grey, and Corwyn found she still had no tears, not even as she thought of the King’s pained face and how he had hugged her upon hearing the news of Haldir’s death.

A small group stood around the fresh brown mound of dirt that rose from the grassy plains on the western edge of Edoras. It was Haldir’s interment, and Corwyn imagined that he would have been honored at the guests.

Theoden, king, stood by one side of the new grave, his grey head bowed. Beside him stood Eomer and Éowyn. Then, of course, there was Gandalf, Aragorn, Gimli, and Legolas. A few of the Elves, some from Lothlorien and some from Rivendell, were there as well.

As for Corwyn, she stood a bit separated from the group, and everyone seemed to understand and respect that.

Theoden then stepped forward and lit the torch that stood in front of the grave.

“It seems in these times, too many of these torches have had to be lighted,” he said. “My son, Theodred, lies in his own grave, next to this, the newest.” He met eyes with Corwyn. “I know death and grief and sorrow as though they were personal friends. But I also know that the strong in life are also strong in the afterlife, and that Haldir of Lorien, who led his people into a battle they did not have to fight in for a cause they were not a part of, will live ever on.”

The flame on the torch shivered and blew every which way in the breeze. Corwyn watched the it dance, but did not take comfort in the words that had been spoken.

There was silence for a moment, then a brief prayer by Legolas in Elvish. The elf then stepped forward and reached into his quiver. He gingerly pulled out a beautifully crafted arrow of Mirkwood. The shaft was deep green and painted with golden elvish lettering. Legolas took it and with one strong push, shoved the tip into the dirt so that only the shaft and feathers stuck up above ground.

Orophin and Rúmil followed next, inserting a white arrow of Lothlorien beside that of Mirkwood. Then came an elf of Rivendell. His hand did not pause as he presented one of the arrows of Imaldris.

When the three arrows stood from the foot of the mound, Legolas spoke again. “You lived as a warrior and died as such. May you always be remembered by Elven kind as the leader of the Reforged Alliance. Goodbye, my friend. Namarie.”

“Namarie,” the whole of the group said, the voices of Elves and Men blending together in a final farewell.

With that, it was over.

Corwyn stood, unmoving, as everyone faded away. She was barely aware that most were departing and she now stood alone at Haldir’s grave.

She looked at the fresh dirt and was shocked. Small, fair flowers were already beginning to creep over the brown. They were snow white, and reminded Corwyn of the niphredils that grew back in Lorien. She crouched down and turned one of the flowers’ white faces to her.

It was beautiful, an unblemished white dotted with a crimson center.

“Simbelmynë.”

Corwyn turned her head to face the one that stood behind her, Legolas. “Excuse me?” she said.

“The flowers, they are called simbelmynë. In the tongue of the Rohirrim, they are labeled evermind. They are a very peculiar flower.”

“Why is that?” Corwyn asked, feeling the soft white petals.

“They grow regardless of season. Spring, summer, autumn, winter, evermind does not heed to restrictions. It grows rapidly, and only on the graves of those buried here. It marks the burial site everlastingly.”

Corwyn looked at the blanket of white that was slowly covering the brown earth. “I think Haldir would like the evermind,” she said quietly.

Then, she stood and flipped her silver veil off of her face. She walked to where the three arrows were standing and reached into a small pocket on the side of her dress. She pulled out two elenor wreaths. Both were wilted and trampled, but they were the last things that Corwyn had to tie herself to Haldir. Carefully, she entwined them both around the base of the arrows. Then she backed up and stood for a moment, surveying the grave and the fiercely burning torch in the darkness.

She looked at Legolas, who smiled softly. She felt her eyes well with tears for the first time in two days. She turned to Legolas and cried on his shoulder.

“When will I find peace from this?” she sobbed. “When will I forget?”

Legolas put an arm about her shoulders. “I doubt you ever will. But I do know that peace cannot be found by avoiding life. You must learn to live again.”

She nodded through her tears and allowed Legolas to lead her back up to the city. She turned her head back only once, and in the eastern edge of the sky her eyes found a star she had never noticed before, it was new. It twinkled dimly. She looked at it hopefully, feeling somehow lighter inside. Seeing the small dot in the sky was like seeing Haldir again.

“Come on, Corwyn,” Legolas said quietly, “you will be staying in Edoras for a bit, until you decide you want to head back to the Golden Wood.”

“I was actually rather hoping you could show me Mirkwood,” she replied. Haldir’s star flickered. He approved. Corwyn felt both miserable and glad at the same time.

“Then I will,” Legolas answered. “When this war is over I will take you to visit my home.”

The pair walked in silence through the quiet town.

Legolas stopped at a small cottage. “Here you are, you’ll be staying here.”

Corwyn thanked him and went inside. She remembered what Legolas had been saying to Haldir back at Helm’s Deep. I know you said to take care of her… but I do not know if she will be open to me… we are both her eldar…

As she let her hair down and brushed it she pondered this. So Haldir had told Legolas to take care of her if he died… and they had both been her soulmates, if that was possible. Remembering those words made Corwyn feel much less guilty about her growing feelings for Legolas, but something inside of her was still locked away. She could feel it. It was as though she had a box of emotions that could only be opened by one person…

and that person was gone.

Corwyn knew her inner voice was right, but part of her struggled against it. She stared out the window and craned her neck to be able to see Haldir’s star. She watched it for a moment. And then, suddenly, she heard him. It was his voice, as clear as though he had whispered into her ear.

Corwyn, mela en’ coamin, just go to him. Be happy again. Go, go be ha

***

Corwyn’s eyes flew open. She looked around her. She was on the ground surrounded by trees. It took a moment for everything to register.

She was in Mirkwood, it was morning, but the stars were still out, and Legolas had left last night. She pushed herself onto her shaky legs. Everything in her dreams had seemed so real! She had relived her life, from meeting Haldir to his death.

But that voice, she thought, it wasn’t just a dream…

She looked around again, assured that she was back in Mirkwood, back in the present, and then walked back into the house. She entered the large room where she and Legolas had spoken the night before. She looked over at the chair he had been in. The book he had been reading was still sitting, opened, waiting for him to return.

Corwyn walked over and picked up the book. She closed it softly and set it down. Her heart suddenly ached for Legolas.

When I was with him I spent all my time wishing for Haldir, she realized, instead of being happy with him, as Haldir would have wanted. Now he’s run off and I am left alone!

But she suddenly remembered what Legolas had said last night. Your heart will lead you to me, if indeed it wants to.

With a start, Corwyn realized that perhaps her heart did want to go find him. She grabbed a cloak from the wall and went outside again. She whistled softly and within a few minutes the little bay Lorien horse, now older but still willing and able, the one that was now called Mela, love, cantered out of the woods and stopped by her.

Without much thought, Corwyn swung onto Mela’s back. She patted the strong neck.

“Should I do this, Mela?”

The bay whinnied and stepped forward, eager for something to do. Corwyn smiled, but restrained the horse. She looked up to the sky, where morning’s light was coming and the stars were fading. She found Haldir’s star yet again.

“Do you think I should do this, Haldir?”

The star glowed brightly. Be happy… a voice whispered in her ear once more.

Corwyn nodded. “Yes, all right,” she whispered. “It’s taken me this long to figure things out, but I’ll go now.”

With that, she let Mela go, and he galloped happily through the dark woods, heading to where he knew the master was waiting for the mistress.

The wind whipped about her, blowing one final tear from her eye. It flew back and landed in the dirt, a memory of sorrowful times now in the past.

As Mela slowed, entering a clearing where Legolas was standing with his grey mare, Corwyn looked at the sky.

It was not grey. Morning was dawning bright and clear.

She looked at Legolas, who smiled and held out his arms. As she embraced him she knew that she had finally found the white in her grey skies.

***