Disclaimer: See Chapter 1 for full disclaimers.
Diola lle, my friends!
Evenstar/Elaine... I guess there are some parallels with the Star Wars idea. I didn't have that in mind when I wrote it, but I can't say it wasn't hovering down there in my subconscious. Thanks for all the terrific (and helpful) feedback.
Utsuri... Didn't mean to imply you were "queen of the obvious!" I've had some people try to turn my writing into all sweetness and light, so I tend to defend my darkness a little, I guess.
Remixer... Welcome, and thank you so much for your kind review. I'm glad you like the story so much. You've come in at the end, but if you like this one, consider reading "The Sword of 'Lorien." (This story is the prequel to Sword).
Chapter 21: Revenge
Haldir set out after the Orcs with a terrifying, single-minded focus. Orophin and Rumil stuck close to his side but said nothing; there was nothing they could say to him that would lessen his pain. They didn't insult him by trying. When the three Elves finally caught up with the Orcs they discovered that the band they were pursuing had joined up with a small scouting party. Rumil and Orophin exchanged glances.
"Nearly as many as before," whispered Rumil.
"Haldir had better save a few for us." Orophin's gallows humor brought a splinter of a smile to Haldir's face.
"There will be none when we are finished," growled Haldir. And with that, he drew his sword and charged the Orcs with an ear-splitting cry.
The Orcs swarmed, grunting and shrieking. Rumil and Orophin made short work of the few who still had their bows. One darted in and caught Rumil in the upper arm with the point of his scimitar. The Elf cried out in pain and leaped back. Orophin made sure the Orc didn't touch his brother again. Near them, Haldir was in the middle of a cluster of Orcs. Sunlight flashed on his blade making it look as if it were on fire until the entire length of it turned slick and dark with Orc blood.
One Orc shrieked as Haldir's blade slid into his belly and up until it severed his heart. He put his foot to the dead Orc's chest and with one strong shove, slid the limp body off of the blade. He didn't have a moment to savor the victory as two more Orcs rushed at him, gnashing their teeth, shrieking, and recklessly slashing with their scimitars. He leaped nimbly back, out of the way of both blades. Haldir parried one with his blade and with his free hand, he punched the other Orc squarely in the face.
As that Orc staggered back, blood spilling from his nose, Haldir's blade coursed through the air. The first Orc's leg was severed at the knee and he shrieked in agony as he fell to the ground. Writhing, the creature quickly bled its life out onto the hard ground. Haldir reversed his blade and thrust it behind him, impaling the Orc's companion as he rushed in, and then, in one fluid move, he turned, neatly removing the Orc's head. He watched it bounce along the ground, spitting blood, with some small amount of satisfaction.
A few moments later, it was over. The three enraged Elves had made short work of the Orcs. Haldir was covered in gore and spatter. His arms and breastplate were slick with dark Orc blood, and not one bit of metal could be seen on his sword. It too was covered in blood. He threw down a last Orc head.
"Burn the bodies," he commanded, and for a moment, Rumil and Orophin did nothing. "Are you refusing the Marchwarden's order?" he growled.
"No," said Rumil. "But what of the heads."
"Leave those to me," said Haldir darkly.
When they left, the bodies of the Orcs were a smoldering pile of ash and bone. Each head was impaled on an Orc spear, a clear warning to intruders who would bring harm into Lothlorien.
Rumil sat down with a grimace. He had a deep cut on his arm and Orophin quickly started to help bandage it. Haldir looked at his brother and then his head turned towards the direction they'd come from.
"Go," said Rumil. "We'll follow you. Go back to Lothlorien, Haldir. That's where your heart is."
Epilogue
Haldir knelt by the bed, stroking his mate's hair. She was dying. Alive when they found her, Runevalas was too far on her way to the Halls of Mandos to be called back. Seeing what the Orcs had done enraged Haldir nearly beyond reason. He'd returned to Lothlorien to find her dying despite the best efforts of Lord Celeborn to call her back. Haldir tried to reach her too, but to no avail. She could not bear the horror of what had happened to her at the hands of the Orcs.
"I don't want you to go, A'maelamin (my beloved), but you will not let us bring you back." The sadness in his voice weighed heavily on his words. Celeborn watched the Marchwarden of Lothlorien sadly. Normally proud and arrogant, it was rare for Haldir to reveal any vulnerability.
"I killed them all, Runevalas," Haldir said softly. "They paid for what they did to you with their blood and their heads. At least take that knowledge with you to Mandos."
She felt so cold, as if all the snows of the north filled her veins. She would be gone in moments. Runevalas had conquered him, healed him, at a time when Haldir had been convinced he would never love again. He was a warrior but her gentle touch and kind smile had brought softness back to his life. And she'd brought to him one additional gift that he'd never expected... Suddenly, a sigh ran through the room as Runevalas' soul skimmed through the quiet of the Golden Wood.
Haldir knew she was gone.
That's all for this story! Thank you all so much for the kind reviews. I'm really pleased you liked it so much. If you haven't read it already, and you'd like read more about Haldir and his daughter, Valariel, please read my other fanfic story called "The Sword of 'Lorien." Again, thanks so much for all of the reviews!