Rides A Pale Horse

Title: Rides a Pale Horse
Author: Emmess
Rated: NC17
Genre: Romance, Angst, movie verse, to a point.
Summary: The Elves arrive at Helm's Deep

Rides a Pale Horse, Part V

The city of Caras Galadhon was beyond Amaryn's ability to describe. Dumbfounded, she stared in open-mouthed, childlike wonder all about her as Haldir and his brothers led her up many spiraling staircases and across equally as many suspended bridges, past life-size scenes of battles and celebrations sculpted in bas relief into the mighty mellyrn trees themselves. Lanterns flickered everywhere, their tiny dancing flames adding an air of enchantment to her surroundings. It was, of course, the mellyrn themselves that lent the city its most wondrous attribute, coating each corner and straightaway with glimmers of gold and silver.

Haldir led her across a final bridge to a large wooden structure, which he had told her was called a talan in his language. This particular talan boasted carved railings and walls studded with many pieces of warm, softly glowing amber, some pieces as large as duck eggs, and a silvery material that glinted brightly in the lantern light. Obviously the home of someone of very high standing among the Elves, and she strongly suspected that it belonged to none other than Haldir's Lord and Lady.

Amaryn knew she had surmised correctly when a pair of Elves, unequaled in beauty to nearly any she had seen before with the possible exception of King Elessar's Arwen, appeared in the doorway, framed by the carved entranceway. The Lady's hair was as golden as the finest chalice Amaryn had ever seen grace King Theoden's Hall, and as gleaming. Dressed in a flowing white gown, trimmed with many tiny stones of a twinkling blue, she seemed ethereal in the twinkling lantern-light. Lord Celeborn's hair, intricately braided and crowned with a shining metal circlet, was nearly the same silver color as Haldir's and his brother's hair. Broad shouldered, his robes as white as his wife's gown, he seemed a tower of strength and fortitude, a Lord that would and could verily protect his people against any foe.

Haldir and his brothers approached the royal couple, dropping to one knee before them. Amaryn stood back, unsure of how to proceed without direction from any of the three Elves with whom she had traveled.

The Lord and his Lady graced Haldir and his brothers with sweet, welcoming smiles for their city's returning sons, their proud, brave warriors who had sacrificed much and traveled far for the sake of the peace, and who had returned to them victorious. They spoke in soft, hushed tones, their voices like the gently trickling waters of a clear forest stream.

Lifting her deep blue eyes from Haldir's upturned face, the Lady cast her vision toward Amaryn, still standing well back from the small group of Elves. Amaryn felt a sudden warmth flood through her, an almost invasive feeling, a light flicking at her innermost self, gone almost before she had even realized it had been there. The Lady smiled at her, and Amaryn heard her welcome her to the heart of Elvendom, although, curiously, she was almost certain she had not seen Galadriel's lips move. Suddenly Amaryn felt quite dizzy, the light seemed dim to her eyes, the sounds of the city fading, becoming hollow and distant to her ears, and she grabbed hold of the railing beside her for support.

"Haldir...it would seem your lady-wife is feeling ill," Galadriel whispered to the kneeling Elf.

Standing and spinning on his heel in one swift, graceful movement, Haldir caught Amaryn before she could even begin to crumple to the ground in her faint.

"Bring her to your talan, Haldir...she needs rest...your son taxes her."

Her last words did not register on Haldir until after he had carried Amaryn to his talan, had tucked her safely into his bed, covered her with a warm blanket, and had sat himself on the bed's edge, stroking her hair.

His son.


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Amaryn stood on the wide wooden stoop of Haldir's talan, good hand holding the weak over the enormous swell of her belly under the warmth of her cloak, looking out over the crisscrossing walkways of the city. This was her favorite time of day, and she made certain to stand outside whenever possible to watch as the sunlight dimmed through the thick foliage of the mellyrn and the lanterns winked on, lit as if by unseen hands.

A shiver went through her as a chilling wind blew, a reminder to all that winter was fast approaching.

She felt strong arms envelope her as Haldir wrapped his around her middle, his hands laying over hers, warming her. Just at that moment, the baby gave a strong kick, lifting up both sets of his parents' hands.

Amaryn smiled, Haldir laughed, and together they once again marveled at the miracle that grew, safe and loved, within her.

"He grows stronger each day," Haldir remarked, nuzzling his wife's neck as his hands settled back over her stomach, grown very round with the new life she carried.

"He is his father's child," she offered, turning her head to smile at her husband. She sighed, leaning back against his strong chest, allowing him to support her fully.

"You are tired, Amaryn...you surely heard Orophin the last time he visited you. Would you that he tied you to the bed as he has so often threatened? You must rest. And eat...you must eat. You grow too thin."

Truer words had never been spoken, for Amaryn's arms and legs had grown quite thin even as her belly expanded as the baby grew, her eyes shadowed by the sleepless nights she spent kicked awake by the active child within her. Orophin had told Haldir privately that he felt that bearing this child was taking its toll on Amaryn's health, and he worried for her. If Orophin was worried, then Haldir was doubly so...he valued his brother's expertise and knew his opinion was never given lightly.

"I do eat, Haldir...stop worrying. But I do think I will rest awhile."


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Winter snows came, coating the mellyrn with a soft blanket, turning the enchanting city into a wonderland of sparkling white. Amaryn rarely went far beyond her talan's door unless escorted by Haldir or one of his brothers. Wrapped in a heavy, woolen cloak against the cold wind that sometimes whistled across the bridges and stairways, she would stand on the wide porch of the talan smiling and nodding to Elves who passed, exchanging a word to two in her limited Sindarin with them.

Haldir and his brothers spent a portion of each day trying to teach her their language, but usually ended up laughing at her clumsy attempts at pronunciation...she had no gift for language, it seemed. Amaryn had once tried to answer a question from Galadriel herself in the language of the Lorien Elves, only to have the Lady burst into merry laughter. It seemed Amaryn had said something relating to the Lady's gift to the baby of an embroidered mantle, and the mating habits of frogs. Gracious as always, the Lady had brushed off an apology, but still Amaryn had never again ventured to attempt to answer either of the two Elven leaders in their own language.


Ever his Lord's Captain, Haldir had been away on an extended tour of the fences. Midwinter approached and along with it a festival and feast that everyone seemed to look forward to with a great deal of anticipation. Singing, dancing, and merrymaking in general would be enjoyed along with a vast quantity of food and drink, in particular the thick, sweet wine that the Galadhrim were particularly fond of imbibing. Rumil and Orophin spoke of little else, even Amaryn and Haldir's impending blessed event seemed not to hold their interest as much as the upcoming festival. Amaryn couldn't blame them in the least...Haldir's brothers had been ever attentive to her needs and health ever since arriving in Caras Galadhon, and she felt that they deserved time to themselves and the right to enjoy the celebration without worrying about her.

The day of the celebration dawned crystal clear and cold, although more snow could be smelt on the wind...that sharp, fresh scent that heralded a goodly fall before the night was through. Amaryn had been feeling a bit ill that morning, and begged off attending the early festivities. Rumil and Orophin, in Haldir's absence, had offered to stay with her, but she had assured them that she was fine and needed no company. Reluctantly, they left her, heading off to the communal feasting hall.

Haldir was due back at any moment, although Amaryn was certain that his first stop upon arriving in Caras Galadhon would be a briefing with Lord Celeborn, and so did not expect to see him until later that evening.

And so Amaryn was alone when the first of the contractions began. She was not worried in the slightest for the beginning contractions were mere twinges, hardly uncomfortable at all. A slight backache and a few leg cramps were her only complaints, but she stoically ignored them, preferring to busy herself preparing the baby's layette for his imminent arrival.

The day progressed, sound of singing and laughter drifting up to Amaryn's talan window from the feasting hall, and she smiled when she was certain that one of the voices was Rumil's, singing a song about the coming of Spring. He had such a lovely tenor voice, clear and sweet, and she so loved listening to him sing that she paused in her busy work to stand at the window, listening.

It was as she stood at the window leaning on the sill though the air was frigid, that her water broke, gushing from between her legs and forming a puddle on the floor.

Suddenly, before she could even comprehend what had happened, the first strong contraction hit her with a force that nearly brought her to her knees. Bent in double, she staggered to her bed, her good arm cradling the baby that had evidently just announced his intention of arriving in the world.

The second contraction hit with an even greater force than the first just a few moments later, forcing a moan of pain from between Amaryn's lips. Not since that day on the Wall in Helm's Deep did Amaryn know such pain, and by the time an hour had passed during which the contractions continued to grow steadily stronger, she was past thinking at all.

Writhing on the bed, drenched in sweat, her hands fisted in the sheets, her body arched over and over as each contraction ripped a new scream from her throat. As barely one passed another would start, so that her existence became one long, unending, all-consuming pain. It filled her world completely, this pain, blocking out all thoughts of Haldir, the baby, everything that meant anything to her...all her senses knew at that point was the wracking, muscle-rending all-encompassing pain.

Her legs lay akimbo on the bed, the sheets bloodied and bunched around her, her body drenched in sweat as she fought against the waves of agony that tormented her. Flashes of and bits of memory seemed to jump before her eyes...Yrch attacking her village, seeing her father's body lying in the dirt outside of their tiny hut, her mother's face, tending Lady Eowyn in her bath, Haldir falling on the Wall, her own horrible scars...

Her screams went unheard over the singing and laughing, and music of the celebration. After a while, her voice ran hoarse, her screams dying into raspy moans too low to be heard by anyone not in the room. She fought against the grayness that seemed to be encroaching on the field of her vision, valiantly striving to stay alert for the sake of her baby, fearing for its life should she give in to darkness that threatened.

Her one last conscious thought before blackness claimed her was a prayer to the gods that Haldir would arrive in time to save his son.

TBC...