Vaniel, My Heart

Disclaimer: All familiar characters are owned by JRR Tolkien and are used without permission. No monies are being made from this work. Original characters are part of the story and owned by the author.

Vaniel, My Heart
by Sienna Dawn


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Chapter 7- The Foundling in Haldir's Arms

...In the woods of Tharbad....

Haldir moved quickly and reached Vaniel before her body slid to the ground. Gently, he dropped to one knee and supported her body. With uncomprehending eyes, he saw her body convulse in his arms, her face darkening as the spasms turned violent and her hands reached out for the metal band that encircled her neck. Gasping, her face began to turn blue and she fought for air.

Suddenly knowing what was wrong, Haldir placed his strong calloused hand over the torque and with his entire being forced the magic of the cursed thing to break free of Vaniel. Its will was strong, he could feel, but so was his mind and spirit. With worried eyes, he watched Vaniel's body contort less violently as the energy of the damned band lessened its hold. Within moments Vaniel's breathing became less labored and the sickly blue sheen of her face was fading. Still holding his mind over the torque, Haldir concentrated until he could no longer feel its icy fingers penetrate his mind.

Reaching out with one hand, Haldir smoothed the hair away from Vaniel's face and studied her, dismayed at the extent of her suffering. Her eyes were closed and she was breathing less forceably now. But he saw that her face was covered in welts, bruises and cuts. Her lips swollen.

Lowering his gaze, Haldir brought one of her hands closer to him. He saw that they were calloused and scraped, bleeding in places, the nails torn and ragged. Haldir rested her arm inside the niche of her breast and brought her body close to his in a tight hug. He allowed his own lifeforce to cover the battered body in his arms, silently praying for a blessing from the Valar.

Lowering her back into his embrace, Haldir reached for Vaniel's left arm and searched. In seconds he had verified Vaniel's identity for there was the star mark on her skin. The mark Eryniel's child bore.

Certain now, Haldir stood and carried Vaniel gently out of the wood, looking down at her once and whispering, "Hush now, little Vaniel. You are safe now." But his words, he knew, fell on deaf ears, for Vaniel was still lost in the world of darkness and pain, a remnant and parting gift of the torque she had worn as a slave for more years than she had lived as a free elf.

Haldir's heart constricted in compassion as he looked down at the elleth in his arms and clearly saw, by the light of day, the complete ravage of her suffering. Obviously, she had been beaten and starved, for the numerous cuts and welts on her face and arms only hinted at the extent of her captor's savagery. He could clearly see the dried bloodstains on her tunic, bloodstains where no doubt she had been beaten until she bled. Her body was light and she looked small for an elleth, perhaps a testimony to the lack of proper nourishment. Her hair was dirty, he could see, and matted, dull without the glorious waves all elleths proudly wore. The pallor of her skin was unlike the pale ivory of the Quendi, and lacked the ruddiness of humans. Her cheekbones jutted and her face was a tight mask of hunger.

That she had survived this long was in itself a miracle. Haldir marvelled at the resilience the elleth no doubt had to have possessed in order to survive her ordeal. Slave to the Wild Men for more than sixty years was no mere feat, it was a testament to her willpower. This trait, as a warrior, Haldir recognized instantly. Distantly, he acknowledged admiration beginning to dawn in his spirit for the maiden he carried. This elleth in his arms was far stronger than many warriors under his command.

Turning his head to barely glance at the fallen corpses of the Wild Men, Haldir felt an uncharacteristic hate emerge in his heart. War to a warrior brought with it the risk of pain, capture, torture and death. But he knew that innocents, such as the elleth in his arms, had been sacrificed and butchered when Saruman had let loose the Wild Men on Rohan and then left them to wander aimlessly over Middle Earth. How many innocents, both elven and human, the half-human creatures had stolen was beyond count by now.

As Haldir walked, he saw his wardens beginning to clear the path and move the corpses of the Wild Men aside. Children had been spared and so had the females whom they were able to identify as females. Haldir watched dispassionately as the elves urged and herded the survivors back toward their village, ignoring the gnashing of teeth and implied threats screamed at them. But the elves did not react to the threats of the wild creatures, for soon enough they would disappear and blend into the forests where the creatures could not follow.

Breaking out of his reverie briefly, Haldir saw Orophin turn to him. It had taken them many decades to find Vaniel, his brothers even putting off sailing to the West, bound, like he, by oath to their kinswoman to leave no stone unturned in their search for her adopted child. Although Haldir had never met Vaniel, he knew that Rumil had. So, he would not only rely on the star mark for identification. But he wondered if Rumil would recognize the child that had once been Vaniel. Silently, he thanked the Valar for the one great grace he had been given today: that he had found her after nearly searching all of Middle Earth.

Raggedly he sighed, and walked forward, cradling her still body in his arms as effortlessly as if she were made of a summer wind.

Orophin's gray eyes dropped to Haldir's arms and his eyes questioned. Haldir nodded, "It is she. She bears the mark, but she has suffered."

Quickly, Orophin came to Haldir's side and was stunned at what he saw, for the creature in his brother's arms resembled more a wild beast than one of the First Born.

It was then that Rumil came running to their side and exclaimed, "Have we found her, brother?"

Haldir nodded, "What they left of her."

Rumil's kind eyes dropped to Haldir's arms and the light left his eyes. Reaching for Vaniel's forehead, his gentle touch caressed her, "Sweet Elbereth...." his voice a sad whisper. "What have they done to you, child?"

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