Gone
It would never be the same. The world still looked the same. In the tall mallorn trees, golden leaves danced, embracing the wind. Through the small areas where their were no leaves, bright blue sky could been seen, and the warm yellow light shone through. It looked the same, but it wasn't. It would never be.
Galadriel stood with her head to the tree tops and thought bitterly to herself, I loved him as a son, I knew he would fall if I sent him and yet I did so anyways. I thought I could be wrong, I wasn't, and he died. My fault. Withthese words slipping through her mind, a single tear fell from a crystal clear, blue eye.
Her blonde, wavy hair fell down her back, her hands gripping the cold railing until they turned white. Leaning on the rail for much needed support, another tear fell. She had always wanted a son, and she had loved him as her own.
Her mind betrayed her, painful images flashing behind her closed eyes. His handsome face looking at her, betrayal and hurt evident in his blue eyes. As if he knew, knew that she sent him to fall to the blade of the enemy. She saw him shooting arrows, hitting the target every time, saw him raise his blade to defend himself. He was so brave and strong, the best of the best. Her march warden. No, ex-march warden. Another tear.
What most people didn't see was the other side of him, the side he rarely let anyone see. He was kind, gentle and companionate. He had honour and loved fiercely. Beneath his arrogant attitude and smirk, was a vulnerable, unsure elf with a sweet smile.
The worst visions were yet to come. Haldir as a child, playing with her husband, Celeborn's hair. Haldir teaching his two younger brothers to fight. What would she tell his brothers? The worst was last. Slowly, as if being played back far to slowly than necessary, she saw his death.
The swinging of the sword. She wanted to scream, run, help, do anything, but not being able to move or speak. His head meeting the sword. The shocked look crossing his face, looking around for help, for his attacker? Falling to his knees. Watching the light leave his eyes, watch his face go stone cold. Lying there, meaning nothing to anyone in the midst of the battle. Aragorn screaming, begging him to come back. Aragorn giving up, placing a hand on his chest and whispering a blessing.
Then nothing. Black. Gone. Gone forever. More tears. Opening her eyes and blinking away the tears, she looked over the bridge into the bright blue water. This was his favourite place in Lorien. He used to say that when you looked into the water, you could see who you really are.
Galadriel looked and saw her beautiful face clouded with pain, grief and guilt. She saw a murderer. She had loved him. No, she still loved him. It was her fault. He was so pure of heart. He loved life, his brothers, Celeborn and his home. He loved her. What would he think of her now?
When his time was up in Mando's she would sail and meet him in Valinor. What a long time away, and so short all at once. What could she possibly say to him? Walking beneath the trees, his trees, all she could think of to say was "I'm sorry Haldir, why did you have to die?'