Days had turned to
weeks; weeks had turned into months. In
fact, it almost seemed as though it had been years. Haldir had to admit that he had never been so
happy in his entire life. Never had he
had anything worth living for. Of course
he had his love for the woods and his Lord and Lady, but it was nothing like
the love he had towards Anitra.
“Who would’ve have even considered that the child I saved
two hundred years ago would grow up to be my wife to be,” he said during a
break to his brother Rúmel.
“I am happy for
you, my brother,” Rúmel told him as he ran a cloth over his sword. “Anitra is a beautiful and intelligent young
Elf. You are very lucky indeed.”
Haldir took
every opportunity he could to visit with Anitra. Usually it would be late at night when he was
not on a watch. They had decided just
the other day that they should be wed to each other. It is an old wives tail that when an Elf
falls in love, it is permanent.
“You have been
different lately,” Anitra told him after sharing an arrival kiss.
“How so?”
She shrugged
her shoulders. “I’m not quite sure. Its almost like your
heart has been lifted of a great burden.
You seem to share smiles much more often than when I first met you.”
“That is only
because of you, my love,” Haldir replied kissing her gently.
Their hands
explored the other as their mouths met in a gentle, yet furious, embrace. The night was still young and they had all
the time in the world to be with each other.
It was Anitra
who led the march warden into her flet, and he held
her to him as if she was the most prized possession one could ever have
although he was careful of her growing condition. They both knew that this could have waited
until after the wedding, but it was too late for the passion had already
blossomed this night.
Anitra didn’t
know what time it was when she came back to her senses and out of her dreamless
sleep. She became aware of Haldir’s
presence behind her, who was contently asleep with his arm around her. However, what woke the she-Elf was a knocking
on the door.
“Haldir,” she
whispered while trying to turn over in his hold. “Haldir, someone’s at the door…”
Haldir moaned
slightly as he realized what she was saying.
He sighed as he got up and quickly put his leggings and under-tunic back
on and made his way towards the door.
The Elf’s lazy
eyes shot open at once when he saw the face of Celeborn, Lord of
Lothlórien. He immediately felt
embarrassed that the wise Elf had found him in a dwelling other than his own
for an obvious reason.
“L-lord
Celeborn…” Haldir tried to find his voice.
“What a surprise.”
“Haldir,
forgive me for this visit during such a time at night,” he seemed to have a
hint of sarcasm in his voice, yet Haldir knew that he was sincere about his
apology. “But I have a favor to ask.”
“Of course, my
lord,” Haldir said. He wondered what
could possibly be so important that Celeborn came here instead of
calling Haldir to Caras Galadhon.
“You are aware
of the Fellowship of the Ring, Haldir.” The Elf nodded. “The Fellowship has broken. The ring-bearer, Frodo Baggins, has gone
forward alone.
Haldir listened
carefully, having a terrible feeling where all of this might lead. Celeborn went on. “It is somewhat known that 10,000 Orcs march
towards the small fortress at the base of the mountain and are due to arrive in
three days.”
Haldir’s mouth
almost dropped. “Ten
thousand? Are you quite sure?”
“The number is
correct. Lord Elrond has contacted Lady
Galadriel and myself and he feels that the Elves
should aid the Men in their struggle. If
the Orcs win this battle, Sauron wins but another battle and becomes more
powerful.
“We have agreed
to send our own people to their aid.
Haldir,” he paused for a brief moment looking into the eyes of the
warrior. “I trust you the most of all
the Elven warriors. I ask you to lead
our kin to Helm’s Deep and be the messenger to Aragorn and the King
Théodén. However, please understand
there is no guarantee what the turnout could be.”
Haldir stood
there in disbelief. Never had he thought
this would have come to pass this night.
Finally,
though, Haldir of Lórien looked into the eyes of Lord Celeborn with an
expressionless face. “I will do as you
ask and lead the Elves to Helm’s Deep.”
Celeborn smiled
and put his hand on the other’s shoulder.
“This is a great sacrifice you are committing, Haldir. I ask that you leave tomorrow no later than
high noon. That shall give our people
time to prepare. Good night.”
Haldir watched
the Lord of Lothlórien depart from the talon.
There was only one thing that he could think about now. Would he ever see his beloved Anitra again?
When the Elf
returned inside the flet, Anitra was sitting up in bed waiting. She knew something was going to happen and a
look of deep concern rested on her face.
“Why do your
eyes follow the floor?” She asked him softly.
Haldir didn’t
speak until he was next to her on the bed.
“I am to leave tomorrow.”
“Leave? Why? To where?” She inquired quickly.
“Lord Celeborn
has asked me to lead the Elves to Helm’s Deep near the
“But—the
wedding…our future…”
Haldir moved
closer to her and held her face in his hands.
“Listen to me, Anitra. I love you
more than the world itself. And I will
protect you from whatever harm would be done.
It is important that I leave and help the men. If this army of Orcs prevails, the future of
Middle-earth will just fade further away.”
Anitra threw
herself at him and tightly wrapped her arms around his neck. “I can’t bare to
lose you.”
Haldir kissed
her neck and cheek several times before saying, “I promise I will return to
you.”
“Alive,” she
finished for him.
He smiled. “Alive.”
The next
morning was somewhat slow and quiet. A good deal of the Lórien Elves were preparing themselves to
leave. Once they were dressed and their
quivers were filled with the sleek arrows, they said their good-byes to their
families.
Haldir sat
silently holding Anitra by the
“Haldir,” his
brother Orophin called from a few feet away.
“Celeborn requests our departure.”
Anitra’s head
shot up and looked painfully into Haldir’s blue eyes. “I’m so scared.”
Haldir kissed
her forehead. “Do not be. I shall be fine. When I return we shall be
married at once.”
“I love you
with all my heart,” came her respond in a whisper as she drew him into a
deep kiss.
Haldir stood
up, holding Anitra’s hand and then leading her to the army of Elves that
waited. He gave her one last kiss on the
cheek and then turned to join his fellow warriors.
Elves from
Rivendell had arrived and they would march together to Helm’s Deep. It would be a two-day journey if they did not
stop for long rests.
All of the
Elves were clad in the golden armor similar to those worn during the Last
Alliance of Elves and Men. Elaborate
helmets hid all the golden haired warriors’ heads and a dark gray hooded cloak
covered all of their armor. They each
held a longbow, and quivers full of arrows were strapped to their backs.
Haldir took the
stance at the front of the army where Celeborn, Galadriel, and Elrond of
Rivendell stood waiting.
“Nai tiruvantel
ar varyuvantel i Valar tielyanna nu vilya,” Elrond said to the entire
group.
Celeborn and
Galadriel also bestowed their luck to their kin. “Lead them forward, Haldir,” Celeborn said
stepping aside so the high warden could start the procession.
Haldir bowed
slightly, his eyes quickly glancing to his left where Anitra stood trying her
best to keep the tears concealed. He
smiled at her before raising his head and then shouting “Forward!” into the
afternoon air.
The army of
Elves marched forward in half a dozen straight lines, and Anitra feared that
she would never see his face again as he led the Elves out of Lothlórien and to
the south.
“““
The journey to Helm’s Deep was indeed tiring, but it was
very important that the get their before the Orcs did. Haldir knew that a great deal of the Elves
behind him feared the battle that lay ahead and even he had to wonder what the
outcome would be.
The morning of
the third day that Celeborn himself had predicted the Orcs would arrive had
come. The Elves of Rivendell and
Lothlórien were less then ten miles away.
“We must not
stop!” Haldir called over his shoulder.
It wasn’t that he doubted them, but more of a coaxing to prepare them
for what lies ahead.
At long last,
only hours before the sun was due to set, Haldir
caught the first glimpse of Helm’s Deep.
It was simply a small building, shaped like a miniature castle the kings
of men would build, planted into the base of the mountain, almost blending in
from an untrained eye. A large stonewall stretched across the fortress, blocking the
insides from any type of foreign exposure.
Haldir knew
that the tension inside would be high, and he only hoped that the people inside
appreciated their coming.
The loud
footsteps from the Elves must have been a warning to the men at the large
wooded doors at the end of the ramp, for they opened slowly and the Elves were
able to march right in.
The entrance of
the fortress was filled with the men, women, and children that lived under the
rein of King Théodén, and each seemed confused and frightened at the sudden
arrival of the Elves.
King Théodén
had pushed his way through the muttering crowd and Haldir took that as a cue to
step forward. “What business do you
have?” the king asked, although knowing quite well that the visitors meant no
harm.
Haldir greeted
him with a hand gesture, (his hand touching over his heart and coming forward),
and portrayed an emotionless face. “I
bring word from Elrond of Rivendell. An
alliance once existed between Elves and Men.
Long ago we fought and died together.
We came to honour that allegiance.”
As his message
came to an end he caught sight of Aragorn, son of Arathorn, making his way to
the Elves. “Many welcomes!” He said
advancing to Haldir and pulling him into an unexpected hug.
Haldir was
reluctant at first to acknowledge the friendly gesture, but finally returned
the greeting. When they parted a moment
later he said, “We are proud to fight alongside Men once more.”
Haldir greeted
Legolas, son of the Elven king Thranduil, and even the Dwarf Gimli who had also
been apart of the Fellowship and came to Lothlórien during their quest. Then Aragorn and Théodén pulled him aside to
explain what the plan would be.
“We shall line
our forces up on the wall and wait for the Orcs to arrive. At my command we shall attack them with
everything we have,” Théodén explained.
“Who are those
that fight alongside?” Haldir asked glancing around at the common folk.
Aragorn let out
a concerned sigh. “Our forces are
limited. We are giving weapons to any
grown man or boy that can hold one.”
“They shall not
last a moment!” Haldir exclaimed.
“I am well
aware,” Théodén snapped. “But it is all
we have. Your coming has been a blessing
indeed.”
The sun had
long since set and the night sky drew darker with storm clouds. In the very far distance only the Elves could
notice the torches of fire the Orcs carried.
Even from the distance they saw that the numbers were no lie; they were
definitely outnumbered.
Rain began to
pour down after a low rumble of thunder boomed overhead. Each Elf and Man stood in straight lines
across the top of the great wall, holding their weapons at their sides. All they could do was wait
and watch the monsters coming towards them.
Aragorn gave
the signal to ready their weapons, and in unison each Elf raised their bows and
drew an arrow from their quivers.
Haldir already
spotted his first victim walking towards him with a long pole in its hand. Even with the rain pouring down on his body
he kept concentration and did not blink away the drops of water.
The massive
army of Orcs stopped. They suddenly
began to growl and holler into the night while banging their long poles on the
ground in a thunderous beat. Everyone
knew that they were trying to intimidate their targets; and on some it worked.
“Wait!” Théodén
called overhead from his spot on a platform while the Orcs started to advance.
Suddenly a lose
arrow from a man went flying forward and hit an Orc in the front row. Its comrades looked at its dead body in
amazement and then they came. All of
them started running forwards to bombard the wall.
“Wait!” Came the common voice of Théodén while Aragorn spoke the
same in Elvish.
“NOW!”
Every person
holding a bow shot their first arrow, most of them hitting their targets. The front row of Orcs fell and the next
trampled over them.
Haldir pulled
another arrow from his quiver and quickly shot it, repeating this movement as
quickly has his hands would allow.
The Orcs were
not as stupid as one would think, however.
They started to bring up tall ladders they had made themselves, loaded
as many warriors as they could onto each step and then pushed the ladders into
the air and towards the wall.
If possible,
Elves and Men together used their strength to push the ladders away, causing
the Orcs to fall to the ground. But the
ladders kept coming, along with grappling hooks they would use to climb the
ropes they threw up.
Haldir started
to focus his efforts on the closest possible Orcs, but it was starting to
become too much. His arrows were almost
spent and he would have to go face to face with the vicious beasts.
Haldir saw an
Orc climbing up the way directly to his left.
He knew he had one arrow left, but had no other choice but to use
it. He loaded the arrow in the bow and
pulled the string back to his ear, focusing on the Orc so he would have a
direct hit that would kill the opponent even before it hit the ground.
However, the
heavy sound of boots running towards him caught his ears. Out of the corner of his eye he noticed an
Orc racing towards him with a raised sword.
Not thinking about the action twice, Haldir fired his last arrow into
the skull of the Orc only inches before the beast slit him down the middle.
Having no more
use of his bow, the Elf dropped the wooden weapon to the ground and quickly
withdrew his long and arched sword. Now
he would finish off the Orc who would’ve been the receiver of the last
arrow.
Most of the
Elves now were relying on blades rather than arrows. But it was apparent that although they were
strong, the Orcs were many in numbers and were coming too fast.
Aragorn’s voice rung through the storm of rain and Orcs giving
commands to the Elves and Men.
Haldir was
showing his years of skill and knowledge of fighting with his swift
actions. He would slit the throat of one
Orc and his sword had already begun to slay yet another who was coming forward.
Atop his
platform, King Théodén watched his people and the Elves being slaughtered. Many Orcs were falling, but it was nothing
compared to the wounded and slain of the side of good. “This is no good,” he told one of his men who
stood by his side. “Aragorn! Bring them in! Back to the fortress!!”
Aragorn looked
up to the king with confusion, yet relief.
This was probably the best way to go and they all knew it. However, if they retreated into the fortress,
all would be trapped and at the mercy of the remaining Orcs, which was still
far into the thousands.
“Pull back to
the fortress!” He yelled to the Men all around him. Then he started speaking in the Elvish tongue. “Back into the keep! Haldir, bring your people back!”
Haldir heard
Aragorn’s command and was quite surprised.
He did not understand what they would accomplish by leaving the
battlefield so they could line up to die.
But an order was an order, and he was not one to disobey.
“Return to
the keep! All of you! Back into the fortress keep!”
As Haldir
turned to tell the Elves behind him he met the force of an Orc sword cutting at
his arm. Shouting, his sword fell from
his hand, which began to go numb with pain.
His free hand instinctively clutched the bleeding wound and held it tight.
Unfortunately
for the high march warden, his moment of pain would only grow worse. He did not even hear his attacker
coming. All he sensed was the tremendous
agony he felt in his back as what turned out to be an axe was driven through
his flesh.
“Haldir!” Came Aragorn’s cry over
the crowd of people moving back into the fortress.
Haldir could
feel his body overcome with heat and his face tingled. For a moment he could not hear anything, but
only see his kin who had fallen all around him.
He had done nothing but lead them all to their dooms.
Haldir barely
noticed Aragorn jumping through and slashing the murderous Orc with its own
axe. Haldir’s knees gave way and his
body started to fall back towards the hard stone floor of the wall, but Aragorn
had caught him and tried to keep him in a sitting position.
For the first
time in his life Haldir felt the urge to cry.
He had never experienced such agony as he was suffering now. It was extraordinary how the thought of a
wound was so different from the actual feeling.
“Haldir, do not
leave us now. Hold on, Haldir!” Aragorn
yelled at the fallen Elf, whose eyes had begun to close and his body became
limp.
“Help me!” the
heir to the throne of Gondor called to another Elf standing nearby who was still
fighting with his sword. The Elf knelt
down and was traumatized to look over his leader.
Aragorn worked quickly to remove Haldir’s cloak and wrap
it around his torso to hopefully subdue some of the bleeding the axe had
created. “Bring him into the keep and
see to his wounds.”
The Elf nodded
and called for another to help him lift Haldir.
The two Elves, one at each end of their leader, moved quickly down the
stairs of the wall and into the fortress where others scrambled to get in.
Two more Elves
came along; one being Haldir’s brother Orophin, and the four aided the wounded
one to a sidewall.
Orophin held
Haldir’s trembling hand and spoke to him as the others worked together to
remove the armor and tunics. “Do not
give into the pain, my brother. Remember
what waits for you back home.”
Haldir let out
a small cry as the fabric of his tunic ran over the fresh wound that was
bleeding uncontrollably. Then the words
his brother had spoken ran over in his head.
Anitra.
If he let himself die, she would be all alone in Lothlórien, and he
would have broken his promise. He was
one to never break a promise.
“Its very deep,” one the Elves said once Haldir’s upper
clothing had been removed.
“We have no
special resources to help his healing,” another said.
“We must make
the best of what we have,” Orophin told them all. “Go find bandages. I saw a man being wrapped in some just over
there.” The Elf at Haldir’s side
sprinted up and moved towards where the finger was pointing.
It seemed
almost like eternity for the Elf to return.
Haldir could feel his body weakening by the minute and it was becoming
more and more painful to draw breaths.
“Orophin,” he spoke in a whisper.
“Take care of her for me…”
Orophin showed
signs of outrage. “How can you give up
so easily? I will not let you pass this
without a fight! You are Haldir, the
high march warden of Lothlórien, one of the Lord and Lady’s most trusted Elves! You shall not let this take you!”
Haldir could
feel a hot tear streaming down his face.
How could he possibly live through this?
The axe had journeyed deep into his flesh and he was losing an enormous
amount of blood. It would not be
possible to live on with such a mortal wound.
Finally the Elf
returned and they began to wrap the cloths tightly around Haldir’s entire back
and then one or two around his arm where the sword had come in contact.
One of the
women came over to them with a blanket and offered to let Haldir lay down so he
could rest his weary body. They took it
graciously and gently laid Haldir down on his unscathed side.
“How is he?”
said a voice, which belonged to that of the ranger.
“He is
suffering from such a mortal wound,” Orophin answered Aragorn.
“You there,
boy,” the ranger called to a boy who sat alone on a rock. “Bring this Elf some water and keep him
company.” He turned back to the
Elves. “I am sorry to draw you away, but
we are still in need of your help. That
boy will look after him during the time of your absence.”
They agreed and
departed once the boy arrived with a canteen of water. He knelt down at Haldir’s head, which was
propped up on his bloodstained tunics that were curled up into a makeshift
pillow.
“Drink this,”
they boy said as he brought the canteen to Haldir’s mouth. Ever so gently did he let the liquid pour
down the Elf’s throat, as to not drown him.
“Thank you,”
Haldir said trying to force his mouth to form a smile.
The boy set the
canteen down and then himself next to Haldir so that he could see his
face. “I have never seen an Elf before. Today I have seen so many I shall never
forget it.”
Haldir could
not help but smile. It was so strange to
meet people who were in awe over his heritage.
“What is your name, young one?”
“Kieran, son of
Andoire, sir,” he answered hesitantly.
“What is your name?”
“I am Haldir of
Lórien. Where is your family? Perhaps they aught to know you are here with
me.”
Kieran’s face
seemed melancholy. “My mother died
bringing me into this world. My father
died just moments ago due to an Orc’s sword.”
For a brief
moment Haldir had forgotten about his own pain and could feel the pain of the
boy’s empty heart. “I am sorry to hear
that. Have you no one else?”
“No, sir.”
They sat in
silence for a long while until Kieran looked at Haldir with curious eyes. “May I ask you a question, Mr. Haldir?”
“If you wish it so.”
“I have heard
Elves live forever. How long have you
been living?” He seemed to have a sort of boyish smirk of curiosity.
It hurt when
Haldir’s throat produced a small chuckle.
“I am 1226 years old. Not half as
old of some Elves I know.”
“Yet you are
still older than I! I am not older than
10 years! You are lucky to be an Elf.”
Haldir thought
for a moment. He was lucky and he knew
it. Elves never suffered from sickness
or died of old age. However, the one
thing that could kill an Elf was coming to Haldir. Although he had always hoped if he were to
die he would die like this, but he did not want to suffer. On the other hand he did not want to leave
the world he had known to love for the past millennium.
“You are yet
lucky as well, Kieran. You have your
youth still around you.”
“I have no
chance of survival now though unless I work for it. I have no other family or friends. We only moved to live under King Théodén two
years ago and my family was poor. Do you
have a family, Mr. Haldir?”
“Yes. I have two brothers and a future wife waiting
for my return back in Lothlórien.”
“I bet she’s
really pretty,” Kieran smiled.
“She is,”
Haldir said and then to himself, “she is.”
Haldir spent
the next hour listening to the sound of Kieran’s young voice telling him of the
fun he would have with his father. It
seemed he had a sister who died of a plague only last year. The Elf felt terrible for this boy and wished
there were something he could do for him, yet it seemed useless; especially in
his currant state.
For a while it
seemed quiet from outside the fortress.
As far as everyone knew the battle was still underway, however it seemed
as more warriors had arrived. Many
thought it to be only more Orcs, but when Rohan riders came into the keep led
by the great wizard Gandalf the Gray, (or now seemed to be Gandalf the White), a great cheer filled the room.
Haldir saw his
brother making his way towards him with a gleeful smile upon his face. “We have won, Haldir! Gandalf came just in time and now the sun has
come up and a beautiful day is before us.”
Haldir couldn’t
have been happier that his kin hadn’t died in vein. And neither would he.
“We shall be
departing soon, my brother, and soon you will be home with Anitra.” Orophin
left to talk to Aragorn who celebrated with Legolas, the Dwarf, Théodén, and
Gandalf.
“What is your
home like?” Kieran asked and then quickly apologized. “Forgive me.
I have done nothing but bother you in such a terrible time.”
“Tis quite all
right,” Haldir said softly. “You have
taken my mind off the pain.” He smiled
when the boy seemed much happier to hear this.
“Lothlórien is like a dream.
There is no other place in the world like it. The trees are unique to our lands and stand
hundreds of feet tall. The leaves never
fall, but turn a golden color in the winter and the ground is covered with
silver and white flowers.”
“I wish I could
see such a place,” Kieran said just before Orophin returned.
The Elf knelt
down next to his brother and looked over to the wound. “The bandages will have to be changed before
we leave. Do you feel up to the
journey?”
“I have no
other choice. I must return to Anitra…I
promised I would return alive.”
Orophin knew
that his brother was aware of the fate that quite possibly lay ahead.
“““
The Elves were happy indeed to see that Haldir had made it through
the night, but it was apparent that his strength was lessening quickly. The young boy Kieran had taken it upon himself
to find a blanket and sleep near Haldir, who seemed to be somewhat of a father
figure in the ten-year-old’s eyes.
The sun was
rising in the east and Haldir had already been awake for several hours. The pain in his back was still immense and he
did not know if the long journey home was overlookable.
Orophin,
followed by several Elves, including Legolas, Aragorn and the Dwarf, Gimli had
come to Haldir’s section of the fortress with a farmer leading a horse drawn
wagon.
“This kind man
has given us permission to make use of his horse and wagon to bring you home,”
his brother said. “Is there anything you
need before we put you in it?”
Haldir slowly
shook his head, finding it hard to speak with such little strength.
Kieran had
awoken and sorrowfully watched the Elves gently lift Haldir to lie in the back
of the wagon. He gave a small smile and
said goodbye to Haldir as he walked over to no one.
Haldir was able
to see the boy walk away and felt a terrible ache in his heart. He summoned his brother and Aragorn over to
him with his gaze still on the boy.
“The boy has no
one now,” he told them trying to think of the words needed to persuade his
question. “Would it be such a terrible
thing to ask to bring him with us?”
“To live amongst the Elves in Lórien?” His brother asked
mockingly. “What has that wound done to
you, Haldir?”
“It has shown
me the kindness and want of the boy. He
has been there for me since you placed me on the floor and has kept my mind
astray from my present state.”
Aragorn watched
the young boy find a seat far from others.
“Do not forget the message Lord Elrond sent with your company, Orophin.”
Orophin
rethought of the alliance over in his head several times and knew that the
Ranger was right. “Very
well. Tell the boy to prepare his
belongings, for we leave within the hour.”
Kieran was
never happier to hear such news. He had
quickly grabbed the small bundle of clothes he had packed to come to Helm’s
Deep, and then climbed into the cart next to Haldir.
The Elves set
out for Lothlórien in a march, the horse-drawn wagon in the lead with Orophin
holding the reins.
Haldir tried
his best to conceal the pain he felt every time the wheels hit a bump in the
path, but it jerked his body around enough to feel exactly how damaged he really
was. Kieran, however, had a deck of
playing cards in his hand and was showing the Elf a few magic tricks his father
had taught him.
“Alright, guess
what this card is,” the boy asked showing Haldir the back of a card.
“Seven of
hearts,” came the answer. He knew he was wrong instantly when Kieran’s
smile only grew wider. “You did it once
again. You are very good at this.”
“You’re just
untrained with magic tricks,” Kieran informed him as he shuffled the
cards. “Play again?”
It took them
four very long and very stressful days to reach the borders of Lothlórien. Haldir’s wound was still bleeding, and it was
an absolute miracle that he was still alive.
An Elf led the
horse through the trees and tried to find the easiest route to take for the wagon. It wasn’t easy to say the least.
Rúmel, who had
stayed behind to continue his patrol on the borders, met them as the Elves
returned from Helm’s Deep.
“Orophin, my
brother, you return with a great deal less than expected,” he said holding his
arms for a warm embrace.
“Yes,
unfortunately the Orcs put up a very good fight. We would not have gained victory if Gandalf
the Gray had not returned with more forces.”
Rúmel glanced
around the large group of Elves that were behind his brother and the wagon. He seemed to realize that someone was
missing. “Where is Haldir?”
Orophin’s gaze
grew hard and he stepped close to his brother to whisper. “He is sleeping in the wagon. Haldir was severely wounded by an axe to his
back. He grows weaker every day and I
cannot even tell how much longer he might last.
I believe he has forced himself to live until he saw Anitra again.”
Rúmel nodded
and then led the troops deeper into the woods.
They continued for another hour until they came to a clearing that
supported many flets perched high into the trees. “Can we get him up the ladder?”
Orophin surveyed the climb and
had never looked upon it with such distaste.
“It’ll be difficult. One of us
will have to carry him on our backs.”
Haldir had
awakened during this time and agreed to move from his somewhat comfortable
position. Rúmel gently pulled Haldir to
the end of the wagon and Haldir tried his best to move his arms around
Orophin’s neck to hold on. The agony
surged through his back and his arm was numb from the sudden movement, although
the sword wound was starting to heal.
It was hard
work, but the Elves were able to carry Haldir to his flet and gently lay him on
top of the bed. Kieran had followed and
stood in a corner while he watched the Elves.
“We have sent
word for Anitra to come here,” Rúmel told his brother.
Haldir was
finding it difficult to draw breath and sweat formed all over his body. Any slight bit of movement was like an arrow
piercing his heart. He did not know how
much longer he could hold on like this.
It wasn’t long
before a she-Elf’s voice was heard outside of the flet and soon Anitra ran into
the room with tears of joy running down her face. Haldir’s brothers asked Kieran to accompany
them outside, and the two lovers were left alone.
For a few
moments there were no words to be shared.
Haldir took in Anitra’s beauty with every breath and his eyelids grew
heavier by the minute. Anitra brought
her hand to Haldir’s face and stroked away a lock of hair that fell over his
ear.
“I’m sorry,
Anitra,” Haldir finally said breaking the silence with his forced speech. “I did not intend for this to happen. I have failed you.”
Anitra shook
her head quickly as his words left his tongue.
“You have kept your promise. I
knew you would come back to me. Now we
shall be together again…”
Haldir smiled
and reached out to her. The palm of his
hand rested against her cheek and she leaned into it. “I only wished we had more time.”
Anitra couldn’t
hold the rage of tears that flowed through her eyes. “I love you Haldir. Please hold on…”
“I have. I refused to give up until I saw your face
one more time.” His hand wondered down
her shoulder, arm, and then rested on the swell of her stomach. “I only wish I had enough strength to see our
child being born.”
Anitra knew
that it was pointless to argue with him.
She knew he was going to pass into the next world, and she did not want
to spend the last moments of his life telling her that she was denying the
inevitable.
“Finding you
was the best thing that has ever happened to me, Anitra. And I am glad you came to Lothlórien. I do not regret a moment of our time, and I
hope you do not either.” He paused for a
long time to catch his breath.
“You must
rest,” she said taking hold of his hand.
“I will.” His eyes struggled to stay open. “Come here.”
Anitra leaned
forward and their lips met. It pained
her to feel his mouth barely moving and his attempts to give one last kiss were
failing.
“I love you,
my dearest Anitra…” was his words after their kiss departed. His head lay back down on the pillows, and
his hand became limp in her own.
Anitra watched
his lifeless face lie still on the heap of pillows. He looked peaceful, as if he was fast
asleep. She said a prayer in her native
tongue over in her head as she kissed his fingers and rested his hand on the
bed.
She sat there
for several moments gently raking her fingers though his golden hair. Finally, the time came when her soul told her
it was time to leave him. As she pushed
herself to her feet, Anitra planted one final kiss on Haldir’s cheek. She left the room without turning around.
Outside
Haldir’s brother and a young human boy stood waiting. Rúmel and Orophin knew that their beloved
brother had passed when Anitra emerged in silence and a mournful expression
rested upon her face. They went into the
room in silence, leaving the boy with the she-Elf.
“You’re Anitra,
aren’t you?” he said softly as she made her way to the railing of the balcony.
“Yes, I am.”
She said giving the boy a glance.
Kieran
smiled. “Haldir spoke of you the whole
way here. You’re even prettier than he
described.” This brought a small smile
to Anitra’s lips. “He loved you very
much.”
Anitra walked
outside onto the balcony of the flet and peered over the railing. She looked around the area for any signs of
movement. However, the only movement she
noticed was a Man making his way up the ladder.
“I have brought
you the fruit you asked for,” Kieran said holding a sack full of freshly picked
and ripe fruit.
“Thank you,
Kieran. Set it on the table
inside.” Anitra continued her search
with her eyes. “Have you seen Haldir by
any chance?”
“He’s over by
the river again,” the eighteen-year-old called from inside.
Anitra let out
a heavy sigh as she sauntered over to the ladder and climbed down. It didn’t take her long to get to the River
Anduin, which flowed through the heart of Lothlórien.
The area was
quiet and no sign of Elven life was in sight, except for the traces of
garments, which included boots, a cloak, and a small long bow, lay around a
rock near the water.
Anitra found a
familiar place and sat down, knowing quite well that he would not be able to
stay under the water forever.
After almost
ten minutes of waiting, a head poked through the water gasping for air. The Elf noticed the she-Elf sitting with a
stern look upon her face and he knew that he was going to get yet another
lecture for swimming down to the cavern again.
“Haldir, how
many times must I tell you not to go in the river unless someone is with you?”
Anitra gently scolded as the Elf made his way out of the water and stood before
her. His wet golden hair shinned in the
afternoon sun and his blue eyes sparkled.
“Forgive me,
mother. But I brought you
something!” He held out his hand and
gave her a shining blue stone.
Anitra couldn’t
help but smile. “Please do not disobey
me again, Haldir.”
As mother and
son walked home, Anitra glanced down to her son who walked with his hand in
hers and the other clutched his small bow.
She chuckled lightly and said, “You are just like your father was.”
“Really?” Haldir replied anxiously.
“Very much so. You’re
just as stubborn, and I can see your arrogance, just like he had.”
“Can we go see
him?”
Anitra
sighed. “Yes, but only for a short
while. Kieran is waiting for us back
home.”
The two Elves
walked hand in hand to the outskirts of Caras Galadhon, where a small memorial
sight was found.
There were a
good deal of white stones in the shapes of angels, flowers, and ancient Elves,
but the one they sought was a younger stone carved into an Elven warrior clad
in full armor and held a bow in its hand.
Haldir broke free from his mother’s hold and ran to the
stone and knelt down. Although he was
still very young, he could read very well and knew the excerpt on the stone by
heart:
May it be shadows call
May it be your journey on
To light the day
When the night is overcome
You may rise to find the sun
Believe and you will find your way
A promise lives within you now
Haldir looked up to his mother with a smile. They often came here together to pay respects
to his father, who died before he was born.
He had heard of all the tales of his father’s deeds, and he hung on
their every word. All who were to recall
Haldir of Lórien were proud to say they knew him once and long ago, for he was
a faithful and trusted Elf like one had never seen.
That night, after Haldir was fast asleep and Kieran had
returned to his own flet only next door, Anitra
silently left and wondered into the woods.
Her footsteps brought her to the
So many wonderful memories filled her head and she took a
deep breath of the summer air. It was
like one so many years ago when she had found love and hope.
After a while, Anitra did what many Elves would do for
pleasure. Her voice carried only a small
distance, not wanting to disturb those who slept peacefully. She sung words she remembered reading only
days after Haldir died:
When the cold of Winter comes,
Starless night will cover day
In the veiling of the sun
We will walk in bitter rain
But in dreams
I still hear your name
And in dreams
We will meet again
When the seas and mountains fall
And we come, to end of days
In the dark I hear a call
Calling me there
I will go there
And back again
Anitra silently returned home to only to fall into a
joyful sleep filled with memorable dreams of the one she would love for
eternity.
aThe End b