I do not own Glóredhel or Haldir, they are entirely the creation of Tolkien. I also do not claim credit for Lothlórien, Nírnaeth Arnoediad or Cerin Amroth. I am only an honoured fan.
Nyérë o Glóredhel
-XLightfoot-
What is left, oh fair Lothlórien, when all that I ever loved is lost? I walk now amidst the golden flowers and mallorn-trees of Cerin Amroth blind to their beauty, overwhelmed with grief.
Oh fair Haldir!
Time seemed to have stopped since your untimely end in Nírnaeth Arnoediad, if only for me. How can I linger on without you by my side? Your hand around mine, your smell, your presence, how can I ever go on?
What needless death has befallen you my love, my life, protecting those that are ignorant of peace and wisdom?
Galadriel was a fool to have sent you. The deaths of many fathers and sons lay upon her hand. Why did you have to go? What did you have to prove, fair Haldir?
Lothlórien seems just the same, but to me it feels alien, as if I had been deserted within Mordor. The grass feels as rough and unforgiving as the stones of the Bürád-Dür, without your grace beside me. The Golden crown of the mallorns seems to press down restricting my every breath.
Oh fair Haldir!
Life is but a shadow of what it was. My every breath and the very beating of my heart is a lamentation of your loss. Every second without you feels like all the years I have spent on this earth, if I had but a choice I would join you in death.
Oh but I do, fair Haldir!
Already my heart withers with grief. My muscles slow in your absence. The concerned eyes of those around me hurt, but how can they understand? They have not lost the one they love as I did... why should I stay then?
To live my life until its bitter end? Bitter in every sense?
No, I shall not! I can't.
Oh fair Haldir!
Would you wait for me in the forests of Aman? Oh fair Aman with its golden forests and shining mountain. Who could stay behind when everything I want and wish for is with you?
I will not linger, no; nothing is of concern for me here in Middle-earth, nothing but your lifeless form. I will not stay...
Glóredhel glanced up at the white flet on Cerin Amroth and a tear escaped her eye.
Good bye, Galadriel, Celeborn, Lady and Lord of Lothlórien. Good bye, fair and wondrous Lothlórien.
Glóredhel turned away from Cerin Amroth and started her long and lamenting walk to the Anduin. Her lips parted as she cried; trying to remember the last time they had touched those of Haldir.
Within the trees around her, upon the flets high in the trees' branches, saddened eyes followed her, eyes of her kin. A lamenting song began to follow Glóredhel as she walked.
The song told of an elven-lady and a gracious elven-lord, told of an unbreakable love between the two elves that even death could not break. In the end the lady could not stand the loss of her husband and followed him into death. The lady found her husband again in Valinor and they lived until the end of time.
That is the end I want oh, fair Haldir, gracious lord. Nothing would make me happier than to lay cradled in your arms.
Abruptly Glóredhel's footsteps faltered and she collapsed upon the soft grass next to the Anduin. A smile graced her lifeless face, a smile meant for Haldir. The elves in the flets jumped down to gather around Glóredhel, their song lingering in the air as they sang.
None blamed her or were angry, they knew that she had found what she wanted and in a life of immortality that is sometimes impossible.