Disclaimer: NO! I do not own Lord of the Rings unfortunately, and I don't
know why I even bother putting this up seeing that no one reads it.
Author's Note: Just a heads up warning, there is going to be some violence, angst, and stuff now and the next chapter will have just a little bit of slashy stuff in it. Nothing that serious but just to let you all know. I don't want to be responsible if you all are scarred for life or something.
We Are One
Fate is Cruel
Haldir read and reread the letter. He couldn't believe it! How could Ambaril think about that at a time like this? Hithiel's life was in danger and all he could think about was getting her in his bed. How could he put a price on her life? 'Ai, Valor, why must you be so cruel?'
Haldir's eyes widened with worry as another sharper pain rippled across his back. She wouldn't survive if she didn't get any reinforcements soon. He didn't have a choice. He quickly grabbed a spare bit of parchment and wrote the following words: 'I swear it.'
The golden eagle took flight again and Haldir watched as it disappeared into the clouds. It was gone. There went the last bit of hope that he had of ever seeing the Hithiel that he knew again. He could not go back on it no matter what. Hithiel would probably hate him for doing that but at least she'll be alive.
With a heavy heart, Haldir slowly went back out his talan, silently cursing at Ambaril for ruining his life. He walked quietly to Rumil's talan where he was tending to Legolas. Haldir climbed the wooden stairs slowly. He was no more than a dark shadow in the fading light of Lorien. He found Legolas lying on Rumil's bed with most of his wounds bound. His golden hair was brushed back behind him and his eyes were closed. A look of complete bliss was upon his lips. Rumil looked up at Haldir's approach and smiled at his older brother. "How is he?" asked Haldir.
"He'll live," said Rumil shortly. He turned back to his Prince and began to caress the beautiful form before him. A gentle smile crossed his features and he planted a small kiss on the sleeping Prince's forehead. He turned back to Haldir. "What troubles you?" he asked, cocking his head innocently, reading Haldir's emotions perfectly.
"Ambaril. Hithiel is on the path that Legolas took when he was ambushed by orcs. She is wounded and needs help but Ambaril won't send anybody unless I promise that I'll give him a potion that will make Hithiel forget me and only love him." The truth ripped out of Haldir before he could stop himself. Tears of hurt and grief streamed down his handsome face. "I had to say that I'll give it to him. She was going to die if I don't," he said through his sobs. "She won't remember me after. I'm lost to her, Rumil. Gone. She won't remember anything! I'll die without her!" Haldir buried his face in his brother's robes muttering all the curses he knew in Elvish for Ambaril.
Rumil was in a complete state of shock. He had never seen his brother cry before unless you counted the time where he had to watch his beloved parents die. Haldir never cried nor lost control over his emotions. It just wasn't right. He tried to think of something to say to comfort his grieving brother but his mind stayed blank. After a while, Haldir's sobs reduced to nothing. He put on the calm mask that he wore most of the time on guard duty. Rumil grabbed Haldir by the shoulder and forced him to meet his eye. "Will you be alright?"
Haldir nodded without saying a word. His eyes were clouded with neither grief nor sadness. He got up and went to the door. "Where are you going?" called out Rumil after him.
"After her," was the only reply he got. Haldir stopped and looked at his brother one last time. "Take care of Legolas, Little Brother." And with that he swept gracefully out the talan.
Outside, Haldir let the cool air sweep over him. The last rays of the sun glanced over him, making him shine out like a god. He had made up his mind. He had to see her one last time before he gave Ambaril the potion. He walked swiftly towards the fields where his horses were kept. He walked absentmindedly and all of a sudden, met with Lady Galadriel. "Haldir," she called out in her misty low voice.
"Yes, milady?" he answered with a respectful bow.
"Some things are just not meant to be. You know of whom I speak of. Hithiel was never meant to be yours. Do not grieve over the past, Haldir. Let her go." The words were spoken with loving care but instead of easing the burden on Haldir's chest, it increased it.
'I will never let her go. As long as I still live, she will always be mine,' he vowed.
The White Lady seemed to have read his thoughts for an amused smile played over her lips. "Trust me, Haldir. There are others. Do not dwell too long in your grief and self-pity for it will destroy the warrior you were meant to be." She took out a silver vial from her long sleeve and handed it over to him.
Haldir took it hesitantly. "It is what you wanted, is it not? A potion that would erase you from her heart and put Ambaril there instead." She gave him a knowing smile.
Haldir bowed low. "Thank you, milady. I'm sorry for all the trouble I've caused."
"You're forgiven, March Warden," she said in her low voice. She turned and walked lightly across the leafy ground, her white mantle dragging behind her like a snake.
Haldir gripped the potion in his fist. 'I could not give it to him. Then Hithiel will still know me.' Those thoughts raced around in his mind, tempting him but his honor would not let him do it. He whistled and summoned the eagle to him once more and put the vial in the pouch. "Once more, my friend." And the eagle took flight, taking with it, the potion.
With a sigh, he walked to the fields. His mare trotted eagerly to him, nosing his pockets for a treat. Haldir stroked her lovingly. Tinuviel was the beautiful mare's name for its fleet-footedness matched Tinuviel's delicate dance. Haldir expertly mounted her and steered her towards the Mirkwood path. He gently held on to Tinuviel's light gold mane with one hand and drew his sword out with the other, ready for the orc ambush. They were not going to get Hithiel. Ever.
~*~*~With Hithiel~*~*~
Gwathir carried her swiftly along the path to the dark Elven realm. She longed stay in Lorien with Haldir but she knew she couldn't and for that, she blamed Ambaril. She didn't not think about it for long though. She had to take care of Gwathir who traveled so long without a break. The great stallion's chest was heaving, its coat matted with sweat and dust from travel. She dismounted and led her stallion to a shady spot in the trees. "I'm sorry, Gwathir," she murmured as she untangled a knot in his mane. She tried to brush some of the dirt of his black coat but it was too hard to do without a brush. She sighed and started to walk, leading him by a short rope she kept in the saddlebag.
They walked for a while before Gwathir started to paw the ground. Hithiel dragged him a little but he refused to budge. She looked at her stallion, confused but then her eyes saw the mangled corpse of an orc. She gasped in surprise and surveyed the scene before her. Dead orcs littered the mossy ground, black blood stained the green, and forgotten weapons were tossed aside carelessly. Her eyes widened and she unsheathed her long knives in case there were any surviving orcs. Her sharp eyes saw a faint glitter in the ground and she walked over to it. A bloody white knife was buried up to its hilt inside an orc. She grimaced and pulled the weapon out. It slid free with a sickening squish. She examined the knife. It was gracefully arched, much like her own. Bone-white handle slid into her grip easily, worn with centuries of use. The sharp blade had inscriptions on it and she struggled to read what it said. With some difficulty, she wiped the dried blood of the metal and read, "Utúlie'n aurel Aiya Eldalie ar Atanatari, utúlie'n auré." [The Day has come. Behold, people of the Eldar and Fathers of Men, the Day has come.]
Hithiel's eyes widened with realization when she read it. This knife could only belong to one of great power. One that could only be Legolas. "Legolas," she whispered into the gathering darkness.
But he would never leave such a marvelous weapon in a foul orc unless he was desperate. Her heart filled with worry for the young prince. She carefully cleaned the blade and set it in her saddlebag. She started to lead Gwathir but her mount still won't move. "What's wrong with you?" she asked her mount.
The stallion reared up, its magnificent head thrown up proudly and pawing the air. She turned around just in time to see a spear thrown at her from an innocent looking bush. She rolled to her side to avoid the spear and looked up. The bushes around her seemed to be alive. All around her, more orcs sprang out of them. She wasn't ready for them.
Orcs surrounded her from all directions and she sprang up to avoid a sword. She swiped her long knives from her sheathe on her back and swung it hard at her nearest opponent. The unlucky orc fell but a dozen more came to take its place. The Silvan Elf drew her blades up and lunged at a random orc. The creature blocked the strike with a jerky, yet precise parry. Hithiel flung the enjoined blades high, then pivoted to the side and kicked out hard at the creature's knees. The bone cracked and it fell to its stomach. The Elf brought a knife down in a sweeping backhand and cut its spine.
The orcs around her shrieked with uncontrolled rage and flung themselves upon the warrior. She blocked the high sweeping cut of another sword, then spun back to parry the lunge from an orc who crept up behind her. She dropped low to the ground in a crouch, and then brought down both of them with a deft leg-sweep. She stabbed the first one, then the other creature, before either had the chance to rise. Two more orcs rushed at Hithiel while she was down. She rolled aside once more, and rolled back, bringing the sharp edge of the blade to meet one of its disgusting hairy legs. The Elf leapt to her feet and quickly ended its misery.
The tide of orcs thinned slightly but the Elf was tired. She muscles begged for a pause but her instincts and training overpowered it. Her will to live was too strong. She cut down a few more orcs who were in her way but out of the bushes sprang yet another orc. It brought down the blade on her. Hithiel, who was too surprised to parry, leapt off to one side to avoid it. It didn't quite work. The blade missed her heart but slashed her left forearm, cutting it right to the bone.
Hithiel let out a cry of pain and used her remaining good arm to block deadly blows. She could no longer use her left arm. It hung useless at her side. She was loosing too much blood though to hold out for much longer and the pain was intense. She didn't even want to look at her wound, fearing the worst. Her right arm quickly grew sore from knocking heavy blows aside. She tried to make her way towards her horse to escape the orc army but was unsuccessful. Orcs came at her from every direction. She made as if to run towards it but the orcs closed in around her as if knowing what she was planning.
While her back was turned, an ugly orc buried its sword into her back, cutting into her. It was a shallow cut but it seared with pain. It felt as if she was being branded on her back with a white-hot sword. She stumbled and fell to the bloody ground. She looked up to see a disfigured face jeering at her. With a burst of strength, she kicked up into its groin. An expression of shock then pain flitted across its face. Hithiel used this and quickly buried her dagger into its throat. She ripped it out roughly and let it fall into the sea of orcs. She sprang up and with her remaining strength, rammed herself into the orcs, making a lot of them stumble. She quickly stabbed a couple and ran to her horse unaware of the wounds she was receiving.
Cuts covered her upper body and arms but she paid them no attention. She pulled herself up and kicked him into a fast gallop. Orcs roared angrily at her, shaking their swords and spears at her. She kicked out at those trying to pull her down and started to gallop out of the crowd in which she worked herself into. Suddenly, she heard a loud thunder of horse hooves. She looked up and saw about two dozen armed Elven warriors galloping at her, led by Ambaril and Sayda. Even though she hated Ambaril, she welcomed his presence now.
The warriors rushed the troop of orcs and cut them down easily. Their horses pushed into the black mass, trampling several in the process. Ambaril looked up at her and threw her a cocky grin, cutting the head off an orc. Hithiel was in pain. Cuts covered her fair skin and her left arm was useless and bleeding badly. Her back was cut and the blood plastered her hair to her face. Blood was smeared over her face and her arms. The knives which she used her covered with black blood that burned her hands. Her eyes blurred and she struggled to stay conscious. Her ears heard nothing but the terrible roar of battle all around her.
Then a shrill whinny pierced the air around her. She whipped her head around to the source and saw Haldir rushing into the battle towards her. Her eyes locked with his stormy blue and she fought with renewed strength. Haldir's beauty shone out through the foul darkness of the creatures from Mordor like a beacon of hope. Unfortunately, this also attracted many orcs to him. His sword swiped at the creatures, ending their miserable lives as he pushed his way towards Hithiel.
Hithiel saw none of this though. The last burst of energy flew from her wrist and she fell into darkness. The blood from her arm flowed freely and matted the dark stallion's hair with her blood. Her head dropped onto Gwathir's powerful neck.
Gwathir neighed in alarm. His rider was fallen and he struggled to make his way out of the battle. Trees lined up both sides of the path and there was no way he could jump without making his rider fall. He snapped his teeth at an orc who tried to sink his filthy dagger into his rider. Gwathir laid his ears back and neighed again, nostrils flaring with both excitement and fear.
Haldir heard. He saw Hithiel drop motionless onto her horse and his heart practically stopped beating. 'Don't die on me now, Hithiel!' He turned his horse and struggled to push his way through the crowd but orcs came out of nowhere to cut him off. He was forced to delay and kill them first in order to get past.
He slashed with fury unlike any other. The numbers he eliminated were great but they kept on coming. He realized that orcs on the path were not here by accident. They were there because they were planning a great invasion on Mirkwood. If only Hithiel wasn't there, he would watch Mirkwood get invaded and overrun and gloat as Ambaril fall.
Haldir yelled when the horse carrying Hithiel broke into a gallop. It carried her farther and farther away from him. He desparatly tried to make Tinuviel follow him but she couldn't. Orcs pressed on them and she was surrounded. Haldir tried again to kick her into a gallop but it was too late. He had spent too much time trying to make his mount go that he didn't pay attention to his surroundings. He had spent too much time gazing after her with worry that he didn't see the dagger coming so when it hit him, pain exploded in his side. He looked down and saw a small dagger buried up to its hilt protruding from his side, right below his ribs. The orc wrenched it out of him roughly and a small cry of pain escaped from his lips. He fell sideways off Tinuviel who let out a terrified whinny before bolting off after Ambaril and his warriors, who left after they saw Hithiel's horse leave.
Pain rolled over Haldir's body and he forced himself to stand up, using his sword to support him. 'I can't die here. Not now.'
He stood up with great effort and swept his sword up and into the chest of another orc. It fell immediately like a puppet with its strings cut. He whirled around to block another blow and turned his parry into a thrust. Another small victory for him but from behind, another orc clubbed his head with the butt of his sword. Haldir swaggered but quickly steadied himself. He swung his weapon around with skill and killed several more before another orc kicked him in the hollow of his knee. He fell on to his knees and tried to get up but fell back under pressure. One more flick of his wrist and his weapon went flying to the ground. Haldir fell and a tall orc went forward, ready to drive its sword into Haldir's heart.
Haldir watched as the blade got closer and closer but just before it hit him, he rolled out of the way and punched the orc. He grabbed his forgotten sword and killed it swiftly, only to fall down again as a knife slashed into his thigh.
He managed to stand up and raise his sword into a guard position as a blade came swinging to meet it. The orcs formed a circle around him and the lead Uruk-hai came to meet the lone Galadrim. Shock coursed through Haldir's arm when the blades met in a ringing clash. He struggled to stay alive. Another blow followed and he raised his weapon over his head to block it, but a knee came at his unprotected chest. The breath was knocked out of Haldir as he bended over in pain. His ribs were bruised, if not broken. Orcs jeered around him and laughed at the fallen warrior. "Kill him! Kill him! Kill him! Kill him!" cried the orcs all around him in their horrible rasping voices.
The Uruk advanced on the Guardian and kicked him in the face. Blood spurted from Haldir's nose and he fell onto his back, sword still clutched in his hand. The chanting around him grew louder and faster but instead of killing him, as Haldir expected, it kicked the sword from his hand. It skidded over the ground beyond his reach and it lay there shimmering like a jewel amidst all the rubble. Unarmed and helpless, Haldir closed his eyes and embraced the death that fate had given him. He waited for a few seconds but he did not feel the cold steel on his neck. His entire body was seized with pain.
A few more seconds passed by and he opened his eyes. The laughter and chanting stopped. The Uruk held up a commanding hand. It kneeled down in front of Haldir and took his face into his claw like hand. He tilted Haldir's head this way and that and finally stood up. "Bind his hands!" he shouted at the orcs around him. "We'll take him to Mordor and give Sauron a new Black Elf to add to his collection!" Spit flew from his mouth as he shouted his command but the orcs paid no heed. They laughed and jeered at Haldir, making faces at the unresisting warrior.
'No!' thought Haldir. 'I'd rather die then give my life and skill to Sauron.' He struggled to grasp his sword but he was simply too weak. He was dimly aware of orcs tying his hands behind his back. "No tricks now," said a foul voice in his pointed ear. "One more thing and we'll kill you straight."
"Then kill me," whispered Haldir.
The orc laughed. "No, you'll just wish you've never been born." The creature ran a pawed hand down Haldir's muscled chest and to the juncture where the legs met the body. An audible gasp was heard from Haldir and that made the creature laugh even harder. "Yes, my pretty. You know what I mean so be - good."
The ugly orc left Haldir with his hands bound behind his back. He struggled to break the rope but only succeeded in making his wrists bleed. More orcs came and dragged him up but his legs were too weak to support him. He crashed back down onto the bloody floor. And orc slapped him across the face, leaving a red imprint on the handsome face. Haldir didn't even feel it. He was in too much agony already and slipped into unconsciousness.
~*~*~In Mordor~*~*~
Haldir awoke to a terrible stench. His head was pounding and his entire body ached. All the memories rushed back to him and he shuddered. He glanced around at his surroundings and noticed that his wounds were bound and his hands were free. He was in a small dark cell with a single window. He poked his head out the window and looked at the sky. There was nothing. Nothing. Only dark smoke rising up like a serpent. He realized with a jolt that he was unconscious the entire journey to Mordor. 'Mordor.' The name already filled him with fear. He looked up when he heard soft footsteps on the cold marble floor of Barad-dur.
A tall slender figure made his way towards him and when he stepped into the light from a near-by torch, Haldir could see that it was a Black Elf. It still possessed the grace but all beauty of the Eldar was gone. Silently, it unlocked Haldir's cell and spoke on single word: "Come."
Haldir couldn't do anything but follow the sad monstrosity. He led Haldir through a maze of tunnels and finally stopped at a set of double doors. He spoke a single word in the dark language and the doors creaked open. The room was both freezing and burning at the same time. The cold marble floor chilled Haldir to the bones but the heat of Sauron burned his flesh.
The Black Elf led Haldir to the far end of the chamber where there was a huge black throne with its back faced to them. "Master," the Black Elf said. He got on his knees and bowed his head low.
The chair slowly swung around to face the lost Guardian. Haldir gasped when he saw him... or it... His heart filled with fear and he forced himself not to tremble as he looked upon the face of Lord Sauron, Master of the One Ring.
Author's Note: Hmm... It seems like my chapters are getting longer, but sadder. *evil grin* Should I, or shouldn't I? Heehee. Review Review Review or I won't update anymore!!! Ok, I know that a pathetic threat but so what? REVIEW!!! PLZ!! FOR THE SAKE OF HALDIR!!!
Author's Note: Just a heads up warning, there is going to be some violence, angst, and stuff now and the next chapter will have just a little bit of slashy stuff in it. Nothing that serious but just to let you all know. I don't want to be responsible if you all are scarred for life or something.
We Are One
Fate is Cruel
Haldir read and reread the letter. He couldn't believe it! How could Ambaril think about that at a time like this? Hithiel's life was in danger and all he could think about was getting her in his bed. How could he put a price on her life? 'Ai, Valor, why must you be so cruel?'
Haldir's eyes widened with worry as another sharper pain rippled across his back. She wouldn't survive if she didn't get any reinforcements soon. He didn't have a choice. He quickly grabbed a spare bit of parchment and wrote the following words: 'I swear it.'
The golden eagle took flight again and Haldir watched as it disappeared into the clouds. It was gone. There went the last bit of hope that he had of ever seeing the Hithiel that he knew again. He could not go back on it no matter what. Hithiel would probably hate him for doing that but at least she'll be alive.
With a heavy heart, Haldir slowly went back out his talan, silently cursing at Ambaril for ruining his life. He walked quietly to Rumil's talan where he was tending to Legolas. Haldir climbed the wooden stairs slowly. He was no more than a dark shadow in the fading light of Lorien. He found Legolas lying on Rumil's bed with most of his wounds bound. His golden hair was brushed back behind him and his eyes were closed. A look of complete bliss was upon his lips. Rumil looked up at Haldir's approach and smiled at his older brother. "How is he?" asked Haldir.
"He'll live," said Rumil shortly. He turned back to his Prince and began to caress the beautiful form before him. A gentle smile crossed his features and he planted a small kiss on the sleeping Prince's forehead. He turned back to Haldir. "What troubles you?" he asked, cocking his head innocently, reading Haldir's emotions perfectly.
"Ambaril. Hithiel is on the path that Legolas took when he was ambushed by orcs. She is wounded and needs help but Ambaril won't send anybody unless I promise that I'll give him a potion that will make Hithiel forget me and only love him." The truth ripped out of Haldir before he could stop himself. Tears of hurt and grief streamed down his handsome face. "I had to say that I'll give it to him. She was going to die if I don't," he said through his sobs. "She won't remember me after. I'm lost to her, Rumil. Gone. She won't remember anything! I'll die without her!" Haldir buried his face in his brother's robes muttering all the curses he knew in Elvish for Ambaril.
Rumil was in a complete state of shock. He had never seen his brother cry before unless you counted the time where he had to watch his beloved parents die. Haldir never cried nor lost control over his emotions. It just wasn't right. He tried to think of something to say to comfort his grieving brother but his mind stayed blank. After a while, Haldir's sobs reduced to nothing. He put on the calm mask that he wore most of the time on guard duty. Rumil grabbed Haldir by the shoulder and forced him to meet his eye. "Will you be alright?"
Haldir nodded without saying a word. His eyes were clouded with neither grief nor sadness. He got up and went to the door. "Where are you going?" called out Rumil after him.
"After her," was the only reply he got. Haldir stopped and looked at his brother one last time. "Take care of Legolas, Little Brother." And with that he swept gracefully out the talan.
Outside, Haldir let the cool air sweep over him. The last rays of the sun glanced over him, making him shine out like a god. He had made up his mind. He had to see her one last time before he gave Ambaril the potion. He walked swiftly towards the fields where his horses were kept. He walked absentmindedly and all of a sudden, met with Lady Galadriel. "Haldir," she called out in her misty low voice.
"Yes, milady?" he answered with a respectful bow.
"Some things are just not meant to be. You know of whom I speak of. Hithiel was never meant to be yours. Do not grieve over the past, Haldir. Let her go." The words were spoken with loving care but instead of easing the burden on Haldir's chest, it increased it.
'I will never let her go. As long as I still live, she will always be mine,' he vowed.
The White Lady seemed to have read his thoughts for an amused smile played over her lips. "Trust me, Haldir. There are others. Do not dwell too long in your grief and self-pity for it will destroy the warrior you were meant to be." She took out a silver vial from her long sleeve and handed it over to him.
Haldir took it hesitantly. "It is what you wanted, is it not? A potion that would erase you from her heart and put Ambaril there instead." She gave him a knowing smile.
Haldir bowed low. "Thank you, milady. I'm sorry for all the trouble I've caused."
"You're forgiven, March Warden," she said in her low voice. She turned and walked lightly across the leafy ground, her white mantle dragging behind her like a snake.
Haldir gripped the potion in his fist. 'I could not give it to him. Then Hithiel will still know me.' Those thoughts raced around in his mind, tempting him but his honor would not let him do it. He whistled and summoned the eagle to him once more and put the vial in the pouch. "Once more, my friend." And the eagle took flight, taking with it, the potion.
With a sigh, he walked to the fields. His mare trotted eagerly to him, nosing his pockets for a treat. Haldir stroked her lovingly. Tinuviel was the beautiful mare's name for its fleet-footedness matched Tinuviel's delicate dance. Haldir expertly mounted her and steered her towards the Mirkwood path. He gently held on to Tinuviel's light gold mane with one hand and drew his sword out with the other, ready for the orc ambush. They were not going to get Hithiel. Ever.
~*~*~With Hithiel~*~*~
Gwathir carried her swiftly along the path to the dark Elven realm. She longed stay in Lorien with Haldir but she knew she couldn't and for that, she blamed Ambaril. She didn't not think about it for long though. She had to take care of Gwathir who traveled so long without a break. The great stallion's chest was heaving, its coat matted with sweat and dust from travel. She dismounted and led her stallion to a shady spot in the trees. "I'm sorry, Gwathir," she murmured as she untangled a knot in his mane. She tried to brush some of the dirt of his black coat but it was too hard to do without a brush. She sighed and started to walk, leading him by a short rope she kept in the saddlebag.
They walked for a while before Gwathir started to paw the ground. Hithiel dragged him a little but he refused to budge. She looked at her stallion, confused but then her eyes saw the mangled corpse of an orc. She gasped in surprise and surveyed the scene before her. Dead orcs littered the mossy ground, black blood stained the green, and forgotten weapons were tossed aside carelessly. Her eyes widened and she unsheathed her long knives in case there were any surviving orcs. Her sharp eyes saw a faint glitter in the ground and she walked over to it. A bloody white knife was buried up to its hilt inside an orc. She grimaced and pulled the weapon out. It slid free with a sickening squish. She examined the knife. It was gracefully arched, much like her own. Bone-white handle slid into her grip easily, worn with centuries of use. The sharp blade had inscriptions on it and she struggled to read what it said. With some difficulty, she wiped the dried blood of the metal and read, "Utúlie'n aurel Aiya Eldalie ar Atanatari, utúlie'n auré." [The Day has come. Behold, people of the Eldar and Fathers of Men, the Day has come.]
Hithiel's eyes widened with realization when she read it. This knife could only belong to one of great power. One that could only be Legolas. "Legolas," she whispered into the gathering darkness.
But he would never leave such a marvelous weapon in a foul orc unless he was desperate. Her heart filled with worry for the young prince. She carefully cleaned the blade and set it in her saddlebag. She started to lead Gwathir but her mount still won't move. "What's wrong with you?" she asked her mount.
The stallion reared up, its magnificent head thrown up proudly and pawing the air. She turned around just in time to see a spear thrown at her from an innocent looking bush. She rolled to her side to avoid the spear and looked up. The bushes around her seemed to be alive. All around her, more orcs sprang out of them. She wasn't ready for them.
Orcs surrounded her from all directions and she sprang up to avoid a sword. She swiped her long knives from her sheathe on her back and swung it hard at her nearest opponent. The unlucky orc fell but a dozen more came to take its place. The Silvan Elf drew her blades up and lunged at a random orc. The creature blocked the strike with a jerky, yet precise parry. Hithiel flung the enjoined blades high, then pivoted to the side and kicked out hard at the creature's knees. The bone cracked and it fell to its stomach. The Elf brought a knife down in a sweeping backhand and cut its spine.
The orcs around her shrieked with uncontrolled rage and flung themselves upon the warrior. She blocked the high sweeping cut of another sword, then spun back to parry the lunge from an orc who crept up behind her. She dropped low to the ground in a crouch, and then brought down both of them with a deft leg-sweep. She stabbed the first one, then the other creature, before either had the chance to rise. Two more orcs rushed at Hithiel while she was down. She rolled aside once more, and rolled back, bringing the sharp edge of the blade to meet one of its disgusting hairy legs. The Elf leapt to her feet and quickly ended its misery.
The tide of orcs thinned slightly but the Elf was tired. She muscles begged for a pause but her instincts and training overpowered it. Her will to live was too strong. She cut down a few more orcs who were in her way but out of the bushes sprang yet another orc. It brought down the blade on her. Hithiel, who was too surprised to parry, leapt off to one side to avoid it. It didn't quite work. The blade missed her heart but slashed her left forearm, cutting it right to the bone.
Hithiel let out a cry of pain and used her remaining good arm to block deadly blows. She could no longer use her left arm. It hung useless at her side. She was loosing too much blood though to hold out for much longer and the pain was intense. She didn't even want to look at her wound, fearing the worst. Her right arm quickly grew sore from knocking heavy blows aside. She tried to make her way towards her horse to escape the orc army but was unsuccessful. Orcs came at her from every direction. She made as if to run towards it but the orcs closed in around her as if knowing what she was planning.
While her back was turned, an ugly orc buried its sword into her back, cutting into her. It was a shallow cut but it seared with pain. It felt as if she was being branded on her back with a white-hot sword. She stumbled and fell to the bloody ground. She looked up to see a disfigured face jeering at her. With a burst of strength, she kicked up into its groin. An expression of shock then pain flitted across its face. Hithiel used this and quickly buried her dagger into its throat. She ripped it out roughly and let it fall into the sea of orcs. She sprang up and with her remaining strength, rammed herself into the orcs, making a lot of them stumble. She quickly stabbed a couple and ran to her horse unaware of the wounds she was receiving.
Cuts covered her upper body and arms but she paid them no attention. She pulled herself up and kicked him into a fast gallop. Orcs roared angrily at her, shaking their swords and spears at her. She kicked out at those trying to pull her down and started to gallop out of the crowd in which she worked herself into. Suddenly, she heard a loud thunder of horse hooves. She looked up and saw about two dozen armed Elven warriors galloping at her, led by Ambaril and Sayda. Even though she hated Ambaril, she welcomed his presence now.
The warriors rushed the troop of orcs and cut them down easily. Their horses pushed into the black mass, trampling several in the process. Ambaril looked up at her and threw her a cocky grin, cutting the head off an orc. Hithiel was in pain. Cuts covered her fair skin and her left arm was useless and bleeding badly. Her back was cut and the blood plastered her hair to her face. Blood was smeared over her face and her arms. The knives which she used her covered with black blood that burned her hands. Her eyes blurred and she struggled to stay conscious. Her ears heard nothing but the terrible roar of battle all around her.
Then a shrill whinny pierced the air around her. She whipped her head around to the source and saw Haldir rushing into the battle towards her. Her eyes locked with his stormy blue and she fought with renewed strength. Haldir's beauty shone out through the foul darkness of the creatures from Mordor like a beacon of hope. Unfortunately, this also attracted many orcs to him. His sword swiped at the creatures, ending their miserable lives as he pushed his way towards Hithiel.
Hithiel saw none of this though. The last burst of energy flew from her wrist and she fell into darkness. The blood from her arm flowed freely and matted the dark stallion's hair with her blood. Her head dropped onto Gwathir's powerful neck.
Gwathir neighed in alarm. His rider was fallen and he struggled to make his way out of the battle. Trees lined up both sides of the path and there was no way he could jump without making his rider fall. He snapped his teeth at an orc who tried to sink his filthy dagger into his rider. Gwathir laid his ears back and neighed again, nostrils flaring with both excitement and fear.
Haldir heard. He saw Hithiel drop motionless onto her horse and his heart practically stopped beating. 'Don't die on me now, Hithiel!' He turned his horse and struggled to push his way through the crowd but orcs came out of nowhere to cut him off. He was forced to delay and kill them first in order to get past.
He slashed with fury unlike any other. The numbers he eliminated were great but they kept on coming. He realized that orcs on the path were not here by accident. They were there because they were planning a great invasion on Mirkwood. If only Hithiel wasn't there, he would watch Mirkwood get invaded and overrun and gloat as Ambaril fall.
Haldir yelled when the horse carrying Hithiel broke into a gallop. It carried her farther and farther away from him. He desparatly tried to make Tinuviel follow him but she couldn't. Orcs pressed on them and she was surrounded. Haldir tried again to kick her into a gallop but it was too late. He had spent too much time trying to make his mount go that he didn't pay attention to his surroundings. He had spent too much time gazing after her with worry that he didn't see the dagger coming so when it hit him, pain exploded in his side. He looked down and saw a small dagger buried up to its hilt protruding from his side, right below his ribs. The orc wrenched it out of him roughly and a small cry of pain escaped from his lips. He fell sideways off Tinuviel who let out a terrified whinny before bolting off after Ambaril and his warriors, who left after they saw Hithiel's horse leave.
Pain rolled over Haldir's body and he forced himself to stand up, using his sword to support him. 'I can't die here. Not now.'
He stood up with great effort and swept his sword up and into the chest of another orc. It fell immediately like a puppet with its strings cut. He whirled around to block another blow and turned his parry into a thrust. Another small victory for him but from behind, another orc clubbed his head with the butt of his sword. Haldir swaggered but quickly steadied himself. He swung his weapon around with skill and killed several more before another orc kicked him in the hollow of his knee. He fell on to his knees and tried to get up but fell back under pressure. One more flick of his wrist and his weapon went flying to the ground. Haldir fell and a tall orc went forward, ready to drive its sword into Haldir's heart.
Haldir watched as the blade got closer and closer but just before it hit him, he rolled out of the way and punched the orc. He grabbed his forgotten sword and killed it swiftly, only to fall down again as a knife slashed into his thigh.
He managed to stand up and raise his sword into a guard position as a blade came swinging to meet it. The orcs formed a circle around him and the lead Uruk-hai came to meet the lone Galadrim. Shock coursed through Haldir's arm when the blades met in a ringing clash. He struggled to stay alive. Another blow followed and he raised his weapon over his head to block it, but a knee came at his unprotected chest. The breath was knocked out of Haldir as he bended over in pain. His ribs were bruised, if not broken. Orcs jeered around him and laughed at the fallen warrior. "Kill him! Kill him! Kill him! Kill him!" cried the orcs all around him in their horrible rasping voices.
The Uruk advanced on the Guardian and kicked him in the face. Blood spurted from Haldir's nose and he fell onto his back, sword still clutched in his hand. The chanting around him grew louder and faster but instead of killing him, as Haldir expected, it kicked the sword from his hand. It skidded over the ground beyond his reach and it lay there shimmering like a jewel amidst all the rubble. Unarmed and helpless, Haldir closed his eyes and embraced the death that fate had given him. He waited for a few seconds but he did not feel the cold steel on his neck. His entire body was seized with pain.
A few more seconds passed by and he opened his eyes. The laughter and chanting stopped. The Uruk held up a commanding hand. It kneeled down in front of Haldir and took his face into his claw like hand. He tilted Haldir's head this way and that and finally stood up. "Bind his hands!" he shouted at the orcs around him. "We'll take him to Mordor and give Sauron a new Black Elf to add to his collection!" Spit flew from his mouth as he shouted his command but the orcs paid no heed. They laughed and jeered at Haldir, making faces at the unresisting warrior.
'No!' thought Haldir. 'I'd rather die then give my life and skill to Sauron.' He struggled to grasp his sword but he was simply too weak. He was dimly aware of orcs tying his hands behind his back. "No tricks now," said a foul voice in his pointed ear. "One more thing and we'll kill you straight."
"Then kill me," whispered Haldir.
The orc laughed. "No, you'll just wish you've never been born." The creature ran a pawed hand down Haldir's muscled chest and to the juncture where the legs met the body. An audible gasp was heard from Haldir and that made the creature laugh even harder. "Yes, my pretty. You know what I mean so be - good."
The ugly orc left Haldir with his hands bound behind his back. He struggled to break the rope but only succeeded in making his wrists bleed. More orcs came and dragged him up but his legs were too weak to support him. He crashed back down onto the bloody floor. And orc slapped him across the face, leaving a red imprint on the handsome face. Haldir didn't even feel it. He was in too much agony already and slipped into unconsciousness.
~*~*~In Mordor~*~*~
Haldir awoke to a terrible stench. His head was pounding and his entire body ached. All the memories rushed back to him and he shuddered. He glanced around at his surroundings and noticed that his wounds were bound and his hands were free. He was in a small dark cell with a single window. He poked his head out the window and looked at the sky. There was nothing. Nothing. Only dark smoke rising up like a serpent. He realized with a jolt that he was unconscious the entire journey to Mordor. 'Mordor.' The name already filled him with fear. He looked up when he heard soft footsteps on the cold marble floor of Barad-dur.
A tall slender figure made his way towards him and when he stepped into the light from a near-by torch, Haldir could see that it was a Black Elf. It still possessed the grace but all beauty of the Eldar was gone. Silently, it unlocked Haldir's cell and spoke on single word: "Come."
Haldir couldn't do anything but follow the sad monstrosity. He led Haldir through a maze of tunnels and finally stopped at a set of double doors. He spoke a single word in the dark language and the doors creaked open. The room was both freezing and burning at the same time. The cold marble floor chilled Haldir to the bones but the heat of Sauron burned his flesh.
The Black Elf led Haldir to the far end of the chamber where there was a huge black throne with its back faced to them. "Master," the Black Elf said. He got on his knees and bowed his head low.
The chair slowly swung around to face the lost Guardian. Haldir gasped when he saw him... or it... His heart filled with fear and he forced himself not to tremble as he looked upon the face of Lord Sauron, Master of the One Ring.
Author's Note: Hmm... It seems like my chapters are getting longer, but sadder. *evil grin* Should I, or shouldn't I? Heehee. Review Review Review or I won't update anymore!!! Ok, I know that a pathetic threat but so what? REVIEW!!! PLZ!! FOR THE SAKE OF HALDIR!!!