The ground trembled under their feet.
Bracing herself, Haleth tightened her grip on the hilt of her sword and shot a look to her comrade, Hagar. The older man, who had been her father's close friend, kept his dark, wide gaze on the misty horizon. Even the orcs paused in their onslaught. As the clear sound of approaching trumpets rang out through the grey dawn, their foul enemy shrunk back slightly in their attack.
Haleth brought the blade of her battle hatchet, black with the blood of many foes, hard into the skull of a distracted orc. The bone cracked, the sound stirring the creature's fellow insurgents from the interruption. The trumpet sounded again and a cry went up from the bloodied remnants of her people. Haleth jerked the axe from the twitching corpse of the orc. She swung around the short sword in her other hand as a company on horses with blades shining in the pale morning light materialized out of the mist. Their enemy let out blood chilling cries as they were mowed down by the Elvish host. Arrows with fine feathers quivering in the wind found their way to jugular veins and eye sockets. The leader of the horde, an elf who sat tall in the saddle of a black steed, beheaded one of the vermin in one clean stroke. His gleaming helm hid most of his face, keeping Haleth from recognizing him.
"Haladin!" Haleth let out a raw scream at the top of her burning lungs.
Holding her sword in the air, she rushed headlong into the remaining horde of Morgoth and her people followed. After an hour, the remaining members of the orc company had either been cut down or sent screaming into the mist as it burned away. The sun was piercing through the heavy cloud cover that had laid over them like the death they thought had been certain for days.
"We have been saved." Hagar breathed coming up alongside Haleth and clapping a hand firmly on her armored shoulder, "We will live. Our people will live."
"I must thank them." She murmured, her breath turning to plumes of smoke in the damp air.
"Thank ye self, girl." Hagar commented, "Tis you who had kept us hoping and living since your father and brother-"
"But without them, we would all be dead." Haleth cut him off, "I did no more than any other in my position."
Coming out from under the old soldier's well-meant grasp, Haleth approached the tall elf with the heavy helm.
"My lord," Haleth spoke in near perfect Sindarin. She bowed slightly as the stallion nervously danced on the bloodied ground, "My people and I are indebted to you. We most certainly would have perished if not for your aid."
"Where is your leader?" He demanded brusquely, spurring the horse to the side, "I desire to speak with him."
Haleth paused but only for a moment, "I am the leader of the Haladin now, my Lord."
The elf narrowed his eyes and studied her sharply through the silver helm, "You?"
Haleth held herself to her full height, "My father was our leader but he and my brother were both slain seven days ago. I have taken on the responsibility of leading my people and will continue to do so as long as they will have me."
She jutted out her chin, refusing to feel cowed under the scrutiny of the Elf Lord before her. Though her body felt it might give at any moment, she would hold her head high as the daughter of the honorable Haldad.
The elf was silent as he dismounted, grasping the reins of his horse in his gloved hand. With the other, he removed the helmet from his head, dark hair pulled back harshly in a tight braid down his back. In the dim light, Haleth studied the sharp angles of his jawline and high cheekbones. The elf had distinctly heavy dark brows, under which almond shaped eyes, almost black in color, studied her with a mixture of curiosity and unguarded disdain.
"My host has brought provisions for your men." He stated plainly, his gaze traveling up and down her worn form.
"We are grateful but there are starving women and children behind us at the edge of the stockade. Our young ones must eat first." Haleth replied.
The elf smirked, "I should have assumed the first concern of a female leader would be the young."
He jerked his head towards a nearby elf and barked out a command in a dialect of the Eldar with which she was not familiar. The man nodded and sped towards the supply carts being led towards them. Haleth shifted, unsure of how to continue such a stilted conversation. Her head swam with hunger and fatigue. She couldn't remember the last time she had slept more than an hour's time.
"After you have eaten and rested, my lady," He said these last words with a twinge of irony that Haleth chose to ignore, "I wish to speak with you again of other matters."
He turned towards his horse once more, swinging one long leg over the side of the heaving animal with ease.
"Yes, my Lord." She answered, realizing she did not know who he was, "May I have your name?"
"I am Caranthir of the house of Feanor." He answered curtly, before riding away without asking her own name.
Haleth was too exhausted to be bothered by the slight. They were alive, for the moment at least. That was all that mattered.
Author's Note: As far as I am concerned, Haleth is a super hero and deserves to be written about as such. She is TOTALLY one of my favorites in "The Silmarillion" even if she only appears for a split second. I cannot tell you how mad I get when I hear someone say that Tolkien was anti-feminist. HELLOO? Really? Really now. Come on.