Disclaimer: I don't own a diggity dog gone thing. All belong to Tolkien and New Line Cinema.
A/N: Written for the LJ's Yet hope remains Comment ficathon and lj is down, down, down. Prompt: The Two Towers (Movieverse) - Haldir - He lives. Thanks Spockside for the inspiration in directing me there. My love for thee grows even more!
Blessed Brother
Surely it was unseemly to feel amused; covered in gore, soaked thoroughly with as much blood as he was with the pelting rain. But the stupefied look on the Uruk-hai's face as Haldir rose up from what should have been a death blow and turned to stare back at it—the ax the creature had intended to snuff out his life still hanging, grotesquely displayed, where it was embedded along the path of his spine caused amusement to bloom brilliantly in the elf and he could not prevent his lips from melting from a thin line into a condescending smirk.
So stunned was the Uruk at the unfathomable image before it, the beast remained transfixed by the sight, disgusting mouth agape, even as arrows with the fairest of fletching pierced its neck and chest. The blow it received from the Marchwarden's sword a shallow breath later took its head from its body.
Before another of Saruman's army could engage Haldir, Orophin had taken up arms before him.
"Sweet Elbereth, Haldir! A few times I've seen it in my life as I battled beside you, Brother but still…the image stops my heart!"
Orophin heard a low chuckle from behind him and he frowned as he worked to dispel the orcs nearest their position.
"Ai, Brother!" And how think you mine fairs?" Came Haldir's strained reply as he wavered and dropped to one knee. He examined the arm not wielding his sword, now hanging useless at his side while he toiled to regain the breath knocked from him.
Rumil materialized a moment later from a flood of Galadhrim surging toward their fallen Captain and ordered Haldir to hold fast while he and another warden quickly began to scrutinize and free the chipped blade that had partially cleaved and then become ensnared in the chinks of his brother's armor. The youngest of the three siblings muttered ceaselessly throughout the ordeal of wrestling the black instrument loose. He rained curses down on all the vile wretchedness that Isengard had spat out and then moved seemingly without drawing breath to praise the Valar, tears silently streaking down his face, that of the three brothers, the Gods had guided their father to bequeath the chainmail of mithril he'd been gifted by Galadriel to the eldest of them. Their Adar had foreseen which of his sons would one day wear the mantle of Marchwarden that he himself had held.
Rumil began a litany that consisted only of, 'He lives, he lives, he lives…', knowing that though the skin under the mail was not broken the bone beneath most certainly was.
"Peace, Rumil." Haldir attempted to soothe though his ever rough voice was tenuous. "I remain still. Let us make haste. I would not risk any who tarried on my behalf." He drew in as great a breath as he could manage and once more a strange chuckle erupted in the midst of the chaos. "By my Lady!" He wheezed. "Did you see the look upon its ugly face?"
Orophin mouth twisted as he fought to keep a wild smile threatening to overtake his countenance at bay. Rumil did not fight the urge and grinned through his continuing tears. Their big brother was unbelievable. And praise the stars, they both thought, very much alive.
The blade snapped free with a dull scraping hiss. Rumil swiftly delivered the foul weapon back to the closest of the fallen Uruk-hai's brethren from whence it came, sinking it into the approaching creature's chest, yet not pausing to watch the beast fall. Instead he gathered Haldir to him, wedging himself carefully beneath the wounded arm he'd noted upon his arrival at his brother's side. Orophin came to Haldir's other side to support him and the three stood. Surrounded by the now full host of Galadhrim that had remained behind in the ordered retreat to give aid they made their way to the keep.
Adar-Father