A/N – I acknowledge that the phrase "Seeing is both good and perilous" is a direct rip-off from Tolkien. As my addled brain couldn't formulate a better way of saying it, I admit to "borrowing" it.

I am also writing under the assumption that the elves used pauldrons as part of their plate armor. I don't know this detail to be true, but it's a convenient assumption as I need Haldir's character to live through the Urukai attack in the movie.

Next chapter will be post Helm's Deep with some variations on canon characters and some OC/mine own.

All constructive criticism or inside information is greatly appreciated (and usually heeded) but please don't flame me!

Chapter 2

The stream sparkled softly into the bottom of the ewer, its voice bearing the stories of a thousand lives past as well as the tales of thousands more yet to come, if only one was wise enough to interpret them.

The keeping of Nenya, while being a great burden, had also gifted The Lady of the Wood with abounding secrets of Nature. Through the study of ages beyond human reckoning the earth, water, fire and air had become almost as familiar to her as her own flesh and bone. And like the sudden slice of a knife through flesh, or the unforgiving creak of old age on mortal bones, the elements had whispered to her that changes were coming, both sudden and slow.

The water lost its voice, filling the ewer and sliding silently over the sides into the dark pool below. Turning to face Haldir, the Lady Galadriel gracefully lifted the vessel from the pool and glided over to the carven table, emptying it gently into the center of the mirror and then replacing it next to the stream reverently. It was time.

Facing Haldir across the table she gestured with a pale hand, beckoning him to stand, and then move closer to the mirror. Her golden hair tousled slightly in the night wind, Galadriel inclined her head in a brief nod and then spoke without speaking, her greeting sounding as a thought in his mind.

"Creoso (Welcome), Haldir." Haldir gave a slight bow in acknowledgement. She continued slowly, her words carefully chosen. "My Lord Celeborn and I have entrusted you with a great undertaking. Yet despite your willingness to perform this task, I sense within you a great unrest."

Two sets of eyes locked across the table in understanding. Galadriel's eyes flashed at Haldir, blue like sunlight refracting off a piece of cobalt glass. Hesitating for a moment, she directed her gaze back to the mirror.

Haldir looked down at the surface, first seeing nothing but water as clear as liquid crystal and the polished metal beyond. Slowly the surface of the water began to ripple as a long silent pond ripples from a stone cast by some lonely traveler. Then the surface seemed to gradually blossom a deep black color, infinite like the sky on a starless night.

Haldir saw himself as he was a short time ago. He stood in one of the ancient trees on Lorien's borders, hands grasping a rail at the edge of a flet. Grey cloak and silvery hair blowing carelessly, bow and quiver slung over one shoulder, his eyes sightlessly scanning a distant horizon. His face wore an expression of pensiveness, a most unusual demeanor for the Marchwarden. He remembered the exact moment. He had been considering what this war would mean - to his race, to his city, to his own brothers. Was there a purpose for him in Valinor, should he live to journey there?

Haldir raised his eyes to the Lady questioningly.

"I offer you no counsel, except what windows into History the mirror may reveal. The Past has buried its own demons, the Future is ever changing, and only you may decide how best to spend the Present. Seeing is both good and perilous."

Haldir inhaled deeply, feeling the breath expand through his chest. "I will see," he said quietly, looking Galadriel directly in the eyes before returning his gaze to the mirror.

The unrelieved black of the abyss returned, rippling quietly. Out of this came an image awash in blue moonlight. He stood on the edge of a battlement, a burgundy cloak covering his heavy armor. The deafening roar, the sharp din of swords and armor clashing surrounded him. Urukai of Isengard were everywhere.

Far away he could hear Aragorn's voice straining to shout over the clash in the elven language "Pull back to the Keep!" Swinging his blade wide he disemboweled the Uruk standing in front of him, black blood splattering the edge of his sword.

Again Aragorn's voice could be heard off to the right down a stairwell half cluttered with the corpses of Uruks and elves. "Haldir, Pull back to the Keep!" Sparing the split second it took to find Aragorn's face in the writhing black sea of Urukai armor, Haldir nodded his head curtly to convey his understanding and waved his arm in direction for the surrounding elves to follow him.

His mind enthralled by the mirror, Haldir leaned forward intently, hands grasping the edge of the table with a force that made the bones of his fingers ache. Instinctively he could sense the event that would lead to the most profound change of his life was unfolding before him in the glass.

A tall Uruk towered menacingly in front of him, roaring a challenge and wildly swinging a heavy iron weapon. Throwing all the leverage he could behind his blade Haldir spun, slicing his opponent's abdomen open, determined to grant safe passage back to the Keep for as many of his archers as he could.

That reflected Haldir, the one warring so valiantly towards his destiny, had made a grievous error. In turning aside for that tiny instant he had unwittingly created an opening for the enemy.

A squat Uruk stood behind him, black and stunted yet broad and enduring as the burnt stump of a hewn oak. This foe possessed the most dangerous kind of intelligence – cunning. Schooled in the ruthless art of warfare, the Uruk sensed the opportunity for a kill.

Heaving its great iron bar to the side, the Uruk smashed Haldir in the back, the barb on the end shattering through the layers of the elf's pauldron, chain mail and tunic. As the Uruk tore his weapon loose Haldir used the force to wheel about, burying the end of his sword in his opponent's ribcage.

As the Uruk collapsed in a heap at his feet, Haldir hunched forward stunned, clutching his right arm tucked close to his body with the palm clenched, fingers curling upwards in agony and shock. Raising his eyes he could see the dim reflections of the moonlight glinting off the armor of his remaining brethren, retreating towards the Keep.

The lesson was as yet unlearned, for behind him was a third Uruk determined to finish him. Bellowing with rage the Uruk brought its weapon overhead, crashing down on Haldir's back, the corner smashing through armor and chain with enough force to shatter ribs from the spine.

Falling forward onto his knees, Haldir could hear Aragorn screaming his name from the stairs nearby. The spirit in his eyes appearing to grow dim, with great effort he raised his head to look at the pale, lifeless faces of his comrades. Seeing the wreckage of their bodies crushed and strewn carelessly on the edge of the stairway he wondered if this allegiance, this great battle, had all been for naught.

Aragorn rushed to him, propping him from falling backwards by bracing his forearm under Haldir's back. As the reflected Haldir's eyes slid closed, the mirror faded to black in shades like ink droplets staining the clear water.

Releasing his hands from their tense grip on the edge of the table, Haldir straightened and took a step back from the mirror. Eyes empty he stared blindly at the grass at his feet. He kept watching the last scene replaying in his mind. If this was the entirety of what the mirror had to show then there was little point in lingering. His future set, his purpose remained unwavering. Lifting a booted foot, he turned to leave.

Galadriel held up a hand, staying him. Her voice in his mind washed over him with gentle waves of calmness and reassurance. "Do not be troubled, this is not an ending but a beginning. The glass holds more than one future."

The depth of Galadriel's eye seemed to hold a spark and for a fleeting second Haldir imagined that an enigmatic smile curled the corners of the Lady's mouth. Mercurial, it had passed almost before Haldir perceived it. Turning back, one eyebrow held arched, he followed her eyes back to the mirror.

The sun was shining brightly in a clear blue sky, causing sharp flashes of light to bounce off the waves in the surrounding sea. Haldir stood at the bow of a wooden ship, the weaving of the bowsprit and forestays extending in front of him attached to a mast high above.

In his usual garb of grey tunic and cloak, bow slung casually over one shoulder, he was staring ahead intently at a distant shoreline blazing in green forest. A beach of rocks and sand could be seen at the shore's edge, the land further up the hill of the shoreline dotted with the pearly white spikes of birch trees swaying in the breeze.

Eyes alight, mouth curving into a radiant smile, he whispered slightly under his own breath "Valinor!"

While that image faded, the surface of the water began to stir slightly again, metamorphosing from the image of a ship to the more familiar sight of the silvery bark of the mallorn tree and its wide girth with stout branches.

Daylight was spent, the light fading quickly to burnished sunset turning the bark of the mallorn a coppery red hue. Haldir stood in a light green velvet tunic and cloak heavily embroidered in knot work, one hand leaning on the railing at the edge of a talan, the other hand pointing to some far off view in the distance while looking down at a person next to him.

At his knee lightly grasping the edge of his cloak stood a child of 3 or 4 moons dressed in a beige colored tunic, leggings, and tiny boots. Fawn brown eyes gazed up at him in rapt attention, mussed waving light brown hair falling to the shoulders of his tunic.

While the child's frame was minutely heavier in comparison with that of an elfling, his stance still conveyed a certain willowy grace only attributed to elven kind. His face contained features familiar as Haldir's own, and yet others were different. The nose more snubbed, the eyes a shade of Men.

Eyes sparkling with intelligence and mischief, the child's rosebud mouth smiled slightly with innocence. Giving the cloak an insistent tug, he turned his face upwards questioning insistently. "Ada? (Father?)"

This time the water in the basin faded to a dull dead slate black the shade of coal, afterwards slowly clearing to its normal clarity with wisps of steam rising from the surface.

Haldir slowly raised his eyes to Galadriel's face, wearing a startled expression. He took another step back distancing himself from the mirror, waiting for his mind to quiet. Watchful, he looked to the Lady for whatever guidance she might offer.

She was ageless and radiant in her white gown, and yet Nenya's wisdom had stamped her with a certain melancholy of vast experience. "I can offer you only what sight Nenya permits as its Keeper, and what histories the water channels. These events are not settled, only possibilities."

Inclining her head slightly in dismissal she paused, speaking softly in parting. "Tenna' ento lye omenta (Until next we meet), Haldir of Lorien."

Feeling oddly both apprehensive and reassured, Haldir collected his thoughts and bowed in return. "Tenna' san', Arwen en amin (Until then, My Lady)." Treading lightly around the edge of the stand past Galadriel he slowly mounted the stone steps. He could only offer a prayer to the Valar that what should be would become. In the morning he would lead the army out of the city to the fate that awaited them at Helm's Deep.