Disclaimer: Peter Jackson is solely responsible for Haldir's Death™, but Tolkien owns everything in Arda.
The battle was over. One warrior surveyed the lines. They had won. Now, where was his captain? He needed to share this victory.
The Elf wandered aimlessly about. So many had fallen, both his kin and mortal Men. He tried to comfort himself, saying that he could not mourn them all. It was a fruitless effort. Of course, his captain was not among the fallen…his captain was invincible.
The Rohirric women and children were coming out as well, looking for fathers, brothers, sons. A light, misty rain fell over Helm's Deep. It was nothing like last night's storm, but was wrought with sorrow nonetheless.
One Rohirric woman embraced Aragorn, glad to see him alive. The Elf walked over to them and saw Legolas and…and…the dwarf—what was the dwarf's name? Had they ever been introduced? He shook his head and greeted them both courteously before turning to Aragorn and the woman. She smiled at him.
"Milady." He spoke uncertainly. He had none of his captain's skills in foreign languages.
"Eowyn," she answered kindly.
"Lady Eowyn"—and then he fell into Elvish—"Aragorn…Haldir. Where is Haldir? We were separated…the fortress is large…"From the corner of his eye, he saw Legolas and the dwarf bow their heads. Something inside him twinged, but his face and manner showed no change.
Aragorn waved a hand to the side. "There," he said, avoiding the Elf's eyes, "but not as you remember him."
The Elf tucked a lock of bloodstained golden hair behind a delicate ear. Yes, war had changed everyone. He would not forget the children standing confused by their sobbing mothers, though he wished to.
He walked over to a group of Elves, warriors he knew well. They were…lamenting? He joined the pitiful circle and then reeled back in a wild mix of emotion.
Haldir…no, this was not he. This was a body…lay still, eyes glazed over, though not in sleep. He was arrayed in his red cape, stained with the blood of orcs, as well as…no, he would not think of it.
Haldir's friends sang for him, for the brave warrior fallen at last. Their bright voices rose into the air and melted into the mist.
The Elf returned to the circle, weeping quietly. He knelt beside his fallen captain, unable to bear it. Someone behind him grasped his shoulder and whispered his sympathy.
"I am sorry, Rumil."