A/N I do not own Tolkien, The Lord of the Rings, or any character therein. This is set after the Battle of Helm's Deep and contains some SPOILERS for the movie. If you haven't seen the movie and don't want any surprising little details, DON'T read this. All Elvish phrases and sentences are italicized and translated at the bottom of this fic. I used The Languages of Tolkien's Middle-earth by Ruth S. Noel for translations.( I don't own the rights to that either.) Thanks to Sagan Fox for beta reading. Please read and review.
A small group of archers huddled together in front of the Deeping Wall. They spoke quietly, if at all. The army of Isengard had been destroyed, and the wounded were receiving care. The Elves, however, gathered in small groups of their own. Some wandered alone, searching for the dead and wounded.
"Vanelmet rimbë," commented one of the Elves of Rivendell.
The others nodded solemnly, unable or unwilling to look at anyone else. They loitered near the wall until Legolas approached on horseback.
"Haldir le cení?" he asked, looking at the group.
An Elf of Lothlórien shook his head and responded.
"Ú-cenilmet hon dú vedui."
"Hi na lúmenn' dim," Legolas responded.
The others agreed silently, gazing about with mournful eyes. They managed to ignore most of the lamenting voices, but one caught their attention. A piercing keen echoed throughout the Coomb, originating from high on the wall.
"Na firn Haldir!"
The Elves glanced at one another, hesitating. After a moment, they moved, finding a way up the wall. At length, Legolas and two other Elves stumbled upon an Elf of Lothlórien. He had collapsed over Haldir's corpse and was sobbing.
"Ai Elbereth, na Haldirion," muttered one of the Elves with Legolas. He turned to the third Elf. "Utuvo Fereveldir."
The Elf nodded and ran to do as he'd been told. The first Elf knelt beside his mourning comrade.
"Elinlúva, ú-nallo. Ú-maro déniesse."
"Kelo!"
Legolas glanced at Haldir's body. The corpses of Elves and Uruks lie strewn about him. Everywhere he looked, Legolas could see the Rohirrim gathering their dead.
"Gurthon. Seregon," he murmured softly.
Fereveldir approached slowly, mindful of Elinlúva's fragile state. He knelt beside Elinlúva, laying a hand on his shoulder. Elinlúva didn't respond, merely continued to sob.
"Ú-vano estel, Elinlúva. Le hon encenéath."
Elinlúva turned slightly and nodded, allowing Fereveldir to help him up. For a moment longer, he considered Haldir's corpse.
"Namárië atar."
Legolas moved to aid Fereveldir as he lifted Elinlúva to his feet. He seemed to have trouble standing without assistance.
"Na sériel!"
A large arrow jutted out of Elinlúva's chest and seemed to have been there for some time.
"Utuvathon cuithoniel."
Fereveldir and Legolas carefully made their way to the Keep, mindful of the bodies at their feet and the wounded Elf between them. With some effort, they reached the interior of the fortress. There, they found a seething mob of people trying to remove the dead or help the wounded. Legolas went to search for an Elven healer, stopping another Elf that passed by.
"Cuithoniel le cení?"
"Ú-na si.
Legolas glanced at Fereveldir, who did his best to shrug his shoulders. They stood for a moment before Legolas caught sight of Éowyn. He moved to her side through the crush of people around him.
"Éowyn, we need your help."
She turned to him and followed, glancing at the wounded Elf to whom he led her.
"The wound is no doubt serious," she commented.
Éowyn led the trio of Elves to a bench. With Legolas' help, she began to remove Elinlúva's breastplate. Fereveldir lingered nearby, allowing the other two to help. Once the breastplate was gone, he gasped in shock. The arrow had not only pierced Elinlúva's chest, it had also passed through the back of his shoulder.
"Can you treat this, Éowyn?" Legolas questioned her.
Éowyn considered the wound. The bleeding had slowed, though a large quantity of blood had become matted in the cloth of his tunic. It was to this clot she gestured.
"We need to remove his tunic first of all. We also need to find a way to remove that arrow without causing further damage."
Legolas nodded and turned to Fereveldir. "Utuvo nen."
Fereveldir hastened away to do as Legolas bade him. Legolas took out a knife and carefully began cutting the fletching off of the arrow. When he succeeded in that, he began removing the arrow head. By the time Fereveldir returned, Legolas had reduced the arrow to a simple wooden shaft. Both Elves began to soak the cloth around the wound, loosening the fabric until it pulled free of Elinlúva's skin. They removed the tunic and considered the arrow. With a tacit agreement, they began to remove that as well.
Legolas stood behind Elinlúva, gripping the remains of the arrow. Fereveldir sat in front of him, holding his shoulders. In a single fluid motion, Legolas pulled the arrow through the wound. Elinlúva tensed and shut his eyes but did not cry out. As the Elves moved away, Éowyn rinsed the wound and began treating it with herbs. She glanced at Legolas.
"Does he speak the Common Tongue?"
"Yes."
Éowyn was startled, since Elinlúva himself had spoken. He gazed about vacantly with an expression of pain and sorrow. Finally, his eyes rested on Fereveldir.
"Haldir na firn?"
Fereveldir looked surprised but nodded. He glanced at Legolas, who turned to Elinlúva.
"You found him, remember?"
Elinlúva's eyes clouded and his brow creased. After a period of thought, memory overtook him, and he recalled.
"Oh, right."
Fereveldir looked worried but left to search for his brother. Legolas watched as Éowyn dressed the wound. He too left to search for Gimli and Aragorn. Éowyn looked into the Elf's eyes, trying to judge whether he had lost too much blood . . . or the will to live. In Elinlúva's stern gray eyes, she saw grim resignation and faint curiosity.
"Who is Haldir?" she asked, moving away.
Elinlúva winced at the mention of Haldir's name, but chose to respond.
"He was commander of the Elven army, watcher of the borders of Lothlórien, and my foster father."
"He died?"
Elinlúva nodded, tears forming in his eyes once more. He looked up, transfixing Éowyn with a mournful glance. She paused, unable to continue her inquiries and unable to look away from the reflected grief in his eyes. Her breath caught, and her own pain threatened to overwhelm her. Without encouragement or further questioning, Elinlúva continued speaking.
"My father was killed by orcs when I was young. He too was a guardian of the borders. My mother died of grief shortly thereafter. Haldir raised me, taught me, as if I had been his own son. He was all I had for family."
Elinlúva paused, seeing that his grief and pain had an effect on Éowyn.
"My apologies, I had no idea that my sorrow touched you so near."
"There's no need to apologize."
Éowyn turned and caught sight of her uncle and brother speaking with Aragorn.
"Excuse me."
Elinlúva watched her leave and sighed. With careful attention for his wound, he went in search of a clean tunic.
"Edain," he muttered.
~ ~ ~
The day passed slowly as Men and Elves sought for their dead or tended to their wounded. As the sunlight waned, both groups congregated in the Keep. The Elves kept to themselves, eating lembas and talking quietly. Only Legolas stood among humans, listening to Théoden and Aragorn or Gandalf argue about the next step in the war.
When most of the argument died down, the Rohirrim began mourning in choked sobs and keens of grief. Those melancholy sounds faded, however, when a soft, clear voice began singing.
A Elbereth Gilthoniel
silivren penna míriel
o menel aglar elenath!
Na-chaered palan-díriel
o galadhremmin ennorath
Fanuilos le linnathon
nef aear si nef aearon!
Legolas hearkened to the music, turning from his companions to watch the Elves. They began singing the hymn in unison, a chorus of silver voices. As the group ended the verse, a lone Elf stood forward, singing a lament while the others softly chanted the hymn. When one finished, another took his place. Slowly, Legolas approached the group. At last, Elinlúva stood forward and began singing a lament in a clear, sorrowful voice.
A hallatir le keli?
Le nuin lumbule lanti?
Le kelan dagnir edaineva.
Leoli lindë firi Lórien mi.
Le ú-entulath donoreva.
A vana eledh thingollo,
Námon mardi le kelo!
Unable to remain silent, Legolas joined his kin in song.
Ai edhilrim, lintu vani yení!
Lindelaurië vedui lini?
Le kelo hin felaith thingiresse
a kelo hin eryn yassen guini.
Le guini a hirigurth ennorathesse.
A astaldorim si gurth hiranta,
nai le na I vedui lanta!
The singing died down. Slowly, the Elves finished their chant. For some time, they remained silent, glancing at each other. None of the Men dared to break the silence and began finding places to sleep. Aragorn remained with Éomer, but Gandalf took leave of them both and went to sit among the Elves. After a brief hesitation, Gimli followed and took a seat near Legolas.
"My lord," Éowyn whispered to Aragorn, "my uncle would like to speak with you."
Aragorn lingered briefly, glancing at the Elves, separate and safe in their own group. Finally, he sighed and went to see Théoden. He turned his back to the Elves and followed Éowyn as she led him to her uncle.
Translations of Elvish
Q-We lost a great number.
S-Have you seen Haldir?
S-We haven't seen him since last night.
S-This is a gloomy hour.
S-Haldir is dead!
S-Alas Elbereth, it's Haldir's son.
S-Find Fereveldir.
S-Elinlúva, don't cry. Don't dwell in lament.
S-Go away!
S-So much death. So much blood.
S-Don't lose hope, Elinlúva. You will see him again.
Q-Farewell father.
S-He's bleeding!
S-I'll find a healer. (Lit. Life kindler)
S-Have you seen a healer?
S-They aren't here.
S-Find water.
S-Is Haldir dead?
S-Humans.
Hymn to Elbereth
O Star-Queen, Star-Kindler
white glittering slants down sparkling like jewels
from firmament glory of the star-host!
To-remote distance after having gazed
from treewoven middle-earth,
Snow-white, to thee I will chant
on this side of the ocean, here on this side of the great ocean!
Elinlúva's lament
O watcher tall, where have you gone?
Have you fallen into shadow?
You went to a battle of men.
Your song has faded in the Golden Wood.
You will not return to the land of trees.
O fair haired Elf of the gray cloak,
to Mandos' halls you now must go!
Legolas' song
Alas, elfhost your years have passed swiftly!
Have you sung your last golden song?
You must leave these shores in ships of gray
and leave this forests in which you've lived.
You have lived and died in Middle-earth.
O valiant host that has found death here,
may it be you are the last to fall!