Disclaimer: The characters, settings, places and languages used in this work are the property of J.R.R. Tolkien, the Tolkien Estate and Tolkien Enterprises. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.
Notes: *SPOILERS* - Do NOT read if you don't want to know what happens at the end of the Return of the King.
Based on canon (i.e. book-verse, not movie-verse. The Elves were not at Helm's Deep in the book – this is why.)
Originally written for the www.haldir-lives.org Fan Fic Challenge. Huge thanks to Kissaki and everyone else at www.haldir-lives.org. All reviews will be greatly appreciated.
Prologue
Gandalf arrived in Lothlórien the day after the Fellowship had departed, carried there by Gwaihir the Eagle. During his brief stay, the wizard warned Lady Galadriel to beware of an attack from Sauron's old fortress of Dol Guldur in Southern Mirkwood, where he had dwelt until the White Council had driven him away in the year 2941 of the Second Age, which was the year Bilbo had found the Ring.
The Dark Lord may have left, but great evil still remained: a black cloud lay over the area, and the surrounding forest was dark and fell. Now the Shadow stretched out from there, not just over Mirkwood, but over fair Lothlórien also. Many Elves in Lórien had never known another home; others had lost their previous land to the Dark Lord. All now faced losing the Golden Wood of Lothlórien. And so the Elves prepared to fight for what was fairest in Middle-earth, to save it from falling into darkness as so much before it had.
Chapter I
Haldir looked out into the night from his vantage point in the trees. From the very edge of the Golden Wood he stared out across the land to the Misty Mountains. He mused that they seemed closer this evening, but that was surely just a trick of the fading light. The sun had long disappeared over the mountains, and would soon dip below the horizon, far in the West, where the sea and sky met. He thought about the past few days. Caras Galadhon had been fortified against an attack; though it was hoped any attackers would be repelled before they reached the city.
A movement in a nearby tree caught Haldir's attention and he looked over, but it was only his youngest brother Orophin, shifting his weight on the branch. Haldir's other brother, Rúmil, was standing utterly still, staring into the gloom. They and seventeen other Elves were spread out along the trees, keeping watch on the northern borders. Quietly Orophin joined his brother.
"You look worried brother."
Haldir smiled. His brother seemed to love stating the obvious.
"I wish I could have a full watch here tonight. I dislike reducing the number of march wardens guarding the northern border."
"But Gandalf said the attack would come from the East, from Dol Guldur."
"And who said there would be but one attack? We should be guarding against enemies from all directions. The Enemy is cunning. With his thought guiding his minions we cannot hope to guess where or when they will attack."
There was no arguing with Haldir when he was in a mood like this, and since the last of the daylight had vanished Orophin knew he should return to his position. With a parting pat on his brother's shoulder, Orophin turned to leave. That was when he spotted them, coming out of the shadows. At least eight hundred orcs were scampering towards the edge of the forest.
"Yrch!"1
The Elves passed the short message along their line, and Orophin realised with horror that his brother's fears had been justified: they were hopelessly outnumbered, and there was no time to send a warning to Caras Galadhon. Quickly Haldir shouted out a few orders, and the Elves retreated a little way into the forest, arrows notched on their bows, ready to fire. As the first line of orcs ran under the eaves of the wood, Haldir gave the order to fire.
"Hado I philinn!"2
Twenty arrows felled twenty orcs, but there were plenty more to replace those who had fallen. Again and again the march wardens fired, but to little avail, the enemy's number was simply too great. Many of the orcs carried crude bows and fired their own arrows into the trees, but hit nothing, as the Elves were too well hidden: their green and grey clothes blending in with the foliage. Other orcs started small fires, trying to burn the trees protecting the Elves. Haldir and his party were driven back, and slowly surrounded by orcs.
Orophin gave a shout, Haldir realised with dismay that his brother had no arrows left, and as he reached back to his quiver he discovered he too had run out. All around him, the Elves under his command fired their last arrows. They had depleted the number of orcs, but not made them fall back, as Haldir had hoped. As they stopped firing, the orcs below began to howl with glee. Haldir gave the order to retreat further into the forest, and the Elves started climbing nimbly through the trees, over the heads of the orcs below. However, their movement allowed the orcs to spot them, and their black arrows flew with more accuracy. Two march wardens cried out and fell from the branches into the crowd below, to the delight of the ravening orcs. Haldir turned to go down and help them, but Rúmil grabbed his arm.
"No Haldir!" Rúmil shouted. "There is nothing we can do for them!"
Haldir's answer was cut off by another cry. Orophin had been shot in the shoulder, and was desperately clinging to a bough with just his left arm. Frantically Haldir raced over to him, not even attempting to conceal himself from the orcs' view, but fortunately reached his brother without being hit. Haldir dragged his brother back onto the limb and quickly examined the wound. Orophin hissed in pain.
"Orophin, I mean to hold the orcs here. I will not let them go any further into Lórien, if I can help it! You must travel quickly to Caras Galadhon. Tell Lord Celeborn or Lady Galadriel that Lórien has been invaded by orcs from Moria and get help!"
"I am not hurt so much I cannot fight!"
"Nay brother." Haldir shook his head. "You cannot fight properly left-handed, and in any case, our blades are designed to be used with two hands. Do not argue! Go now, we will cover your retreat!"
"Yes Captain."
Those two words told Haldir that Orophin obeyed only because that was his duty. Orophin leapt through the trees with great speed despite his injury. Meanwhile Haldir once more shouted his orders to the march wardens. At once they drew their long Elven-blades and dropped from the trees. Taken by surprise, the orcs ran back a little way, enough to allow the Elves to form a defensive line. Snarling in anger, the orcs charged, but Haldir and his party stood firm and many goblins met their end on those sharp blades. For a long while the Elves managed to hold the orcs back, their swords whirring about so fast they were impossible to see. Haldir and Rúmil fought side by side, covering each other as best they could; Haldir was determined not to allow his other brother to come to harm.
But despite their best efforts, they were driven slowly back, right to the bank of the Nimrodel. They could not afford to cross it; they would be easy targets as they waded through the rushing waters. Haldir and the others were tiring; several of the wardens had slight injuries that were slowing them down. All hope was fading, when suddenly a horn blew in the forest nearby. A volley of arrows flew over Haldir's head and struck the leading orcs. Along the bank of the Nimrodel came a host of the Galadhrim, swords drawn, led by Lord Celeborn. Orophin's message had been heeded. Soon the tide turned, and the orcs were driven back through the forest. Several of them perished in the fires they had started, though more than one hundred made it out of Lothlórien. Unseen by the Lórien Elves they headed not west, to the Misty Mountains, but east into Mirkwood, called by the dark power to Dol Guldur.
Author's note.
1: "Orcs!"
2: "Release arrows!"
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