Screams and shrieks of dying elves and orcs mingled in the night. A heady scent of blood was thick in the air and the fray was bathed in the full light of the moon. Arrows flew through the night sky, and elven and orc blades scythed through their respective enemies. The tide of battle had turned for the worse only hours after a messenger had been sent back to Caras Galadhon and the orcs were gaining the upper hand. Rumours were beginning to spread throughout the elves that their captain, Haldir, had been killed. This was very disheartening as many saw him as their leader in battle, even though he was in fact not first in command.

Suddenly a shrill whistle echoed over the fray. It was a signal. Fall back! The remaining group of elves retreated back to the Lorien border and drew arrows on their bows and began to fire at the orcs as they charged towards them. Seemingly from nowhere, a storm of fiery bolts rained down on the orcs; many arrows with smouldering or explosive heads. The remaining group of elves were startled at the rain of fire showering down on the orcs. Within a matter of minutes, almost the entire force of orcs, or what there was left of them, had been shot down or blown up. The rest were easily picked off by the remaining elves.

The battle had been won, and the small band of elves that had split off from the main group finally revealed themselves again. As the group began to show themselves, the other elves could see that Rúmil and Orophin, Haldir's brothers, were in the group, as well as a few others. Haldir was no where in sight. The elf in command came up to the brothers.
"Where is Haldir?" he asked them, peering around nervously.
"He was with us only moments ago… He had been with us the entire time as we fired burning arrows down on the orcs…"
"But now he is disappeared." The elves gazed into the darkness worriedly.

"I do hope that you are not anxious on my account." The brothers and the commander turned to see the arrogant countenance of a well respected elf paling rapidly. An orc arrow had ripped through his side, and he staggered.
"Haldir!" Both of his brothers rushed to support his stumbling frame.
"Can we leave this place now?" he whispered weakly.
"Yes, but what of the one who shot you?" asked the commander.
"He is dead, and so are his five brethren. Let us go back to Caras Galadhon."
"Surely we could at least remove this arrow from your side--" Orophin conjectured.
"It is one of the orcs arrows. They are not smooth and straight like ours, but they are jagged. Designed so that they cannot simply be removed. You know this brother, why do you ask?"
"I did not think. I apologise, my brother. Let us go now." Haldir, Rúmil and Orophin, with permission from the commander (although none was needed), left the battlefield immediately, Haldir supported on either side by his brothers. The remaining elves piled the bloodied carcasses of the orcs into a pile and set them alight, before collecting their own injured and dead warriors and carrying them back.

He was weakening, and barely conscious, yet he still kept walking. Orophin found that the weight of his brother on his shoulder was steadily growing. He knew that his brother's resilience and unwillingness to accept defeat would get him killed one day, and he hoped for Haldir's sake that he wouldn't die today. He hoped for his own sake that Haldir would not die today. He respected his brother, and he cared for him. If Haldir became too weak to go on, he would volunteer to carry to Caras Galadhon – That is, if Haldir would let him. Stubborn pride would disallow Haldir from being carried anywhere, even on a litter. He would not be carried, unless it was to his funereal pyre.
"Orophin," he turned to his head to glance at his twin. Rúmil's face was lined with great worry. "That arrow in his side has to be removed soon. He may die if it is not."
"I cannot die… I will not abandon my duty to the lady before it is done…" Haldir whispered, barely audible.
"The Lady Galadriel knows this, Haldir." Orophin chided him gently.
"Not the lady Galadriel… My lady…" Haldir's usually light body sagged and hung like a dead weight between them. An hour later they were glad to finally see Caras Galadhon come into sight. The day was nearly spent when they finally reached the city of trees. Haldir had become almost completely unconscious as they reached Caras Galadhon. Upon arrival, immediately other elves rushed around them to help. They took Haldir to his bed and called a healer. Only then did his brothers leave him. There was nothing more they could do for him, and they went to report to the lady and lord of Lorien.

"The battle has ended." the elven queen spoke as they bowed before her and the lord.
"Yes, my queen. The battle is indeed over." Orophin replied.
"How fares your brother? He has been hurt, has he not?"
"Yes, he was shot with the arrow of an orc. He still lives, but he is weak. A healer is with him now." Galadriel seemed to the brothers far more formidable then ever. Rúmil wondered at this. "I know you are weary, warriors, but go now and tell the lady Rhyiel what you have told me. She must be most anxious now to hear news of the battle."
"Of course, my queen." Bowing once again, they left the company of their lord and lady.

Rhyiel looked up as she saw Haldir's two younger brothers approaching her. She had perched herself precariously on the step outside her room. Arwen had left her for Rivendell a few hours before, as had Legolas for Mirkwood. She doubted that she needed aid for the moment at least, if at all. So much of her energy had returned since she had replaced Galadriel's ring to her, and she felt that the ring must have been draining of so much significant energy. The energy she had regained would not be enough though. She had been irreparably damaged, and was now eternally weak, and slow to heal. When she was bound, she would still die. She sighed.

The two brothers were quite taken aback as they approached the lady Rhyiel. She appeared to have changed since they last saw her. Suddenly she was the most beautiful thing that they had ever seen, and so obviously one of the Noldor . She seemed to glow with that joyous sorrow that all of the High Kindred appeared to be attributed with.

"Lady Rhyiel," Rúmil began, "The battle --"
"The battle is ended. I know this." She glanced away idly and stared off into the distance. "What of your brother?"
"…" Suddenly she turned to the two with a sharp urgency in her eyes.
"I have to know."
"Haldir lives, but he is weak. He was shot down with an orc's arrow, and we were unable to remove it before we reached Caras Galadhon. A healer is with him now." She rose at once.
"Take me to him. I have to see your brother with my own eyes."
"Of course, my lady." Orophin lead the way, and Rúmil followed close behind Rhyiel as they lead her to Haldir's small quarters. Once they had reached their destination, the brothers left her, and she stepped inside the door without knocking. The healer apparently did not notice her presence in the room, and continued to dab at the wound in his side, cleaning it. Haldir was stripped to the waist to allow the healer to right his wounds with little fuss. As Rhyiel gazed upon Haldir's partially naked form, she felt no embarrassment or shame as she had before, but she stepped towards his bedside and gently took the cloth from the healer at his side. The healer was startled by her presence.
"My lady Rhyiel, I did not realise that you were here." he whispered to her, as he allowed her to take the cloth and dish of water from him.
"How is he?"
"He is better. He rests now." Rhyiel glanced over at Haldir once more. He will not rest so easily if I can help it. she thought to herself.
"You may go now. I will monitor his health." The healer nodded to her, and immediately left, leaving her alone in the room with Haldir. She sat beside him and dabbed at his wound as the healer had done, but also she spoke aloud the words of an ancient healing spell. Rapidly his wound melded together into apparently undamaged flesh and bone, and his breathing became easier. She would not let him rest though. She dropped the cloth onto the floor beside her, and with the most graceful flick of her wrist, she splashed the contents of the bowl over his chest and face. He jolted up in his bed with a start and grabbed the wrist that held the bowl, before he realised who she was. As if he had been touched by lightening, he dropped her hand and stared at her. He too noticed the change in her, and he felt in her that joyous sorrow. It was the first time since he had met her that he had been utterly lost for words. "My lady…" he murmured.
"I did not think that you deserved rest, after all of the times that you have caused me to wake." She smiled coquettishly.
"You are too cruel, my lady." He said, and smiled. She was still the same Rhyiel that he knew, but she had definitely changed somehow. "What do I deserve then, melamin?"
"When you say that, do you truly mean it?"
"You know that I do, my lady, now more than ever."
"Do you know that your absence has been destroying me?"
"I wouldn't have had it so, my lady, if I had but known."
"You will not leave me again will you?"
"Never. I will see out the last of your days, and then meet with you again in Valinor, should the time come." Rhyiel smiled a sorrow-filled smile and Haldir was quick to pull her slight frame into his embrace. She lay with her head resting on his chest, drawing circles around his non-existent wound.
"Your arrow-wound has healed up rather nicely." she commented, and he realised that he seemed to be in no pain whatsoever from his injury. "Do you feel any pain?"
"No my lady, I do not."
"And where you should not." she purred, curling her fingers into his ashen hair. Gently, Haldir pulled her back down to the bed with him and rolled over so that she was staring up into his emotive grey eyes.

Rhyiel pushed her torso up from the bed, meeting his, and threw her arms around his neck, kissing him full on the mouth and dragging him back down upon her. As they broke apart their kiss for a moment, Haldir laughed and looked slyly into her red-gold eyes.
"My lady, you do confuse me so! But I love you anyway." He stroked her cheek and brushed loose strands of hair from the side of her face. "I really do, melamin…" her murmured to her softly in a more solemn after-tone.
"I know that you do, warrior. It burns so bright in you that you could be mistaken for a follower of Feanor²!" she whispered gaily back, although sorrow clawed at her voice like a warg to a meal of manflesh. Again and slowly they kissed, their lips locked together in mutual longing. Rhyiel's hands were once again entangled in his beautiful ash-white hair. Haldir supported himself with his left arm, but his right hand traced freely down her side and over the graceful curve of her waist. "Wait…" she whispered to him, breaking away from him once again. "Your door is not locked." Haldir glanced over towards the door idly.
"Yes it is, my lady." "Battle magic." He smiled at her with a glint of malice in his eye. "A spell I know that can turn an entrance into a solid barrier. We are quite effectively trapped, my lady." His smile widened to a wicked grin, and Rhyiel's red-gold eyes flickered as she traced a line down his chest with her finger.
"It is as I presumed." She looked him directly in the eye. "You are still an arrogant bastard, but I love you anyway." His eyes widened in surprise, but she pressed her lips to his before he could say anything.
"You love me?" He gasped in awe and amazement.
"Yes warrior, I really do."

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¹ Noldor - the high elves
² follower of Feanor - a high elf