Welcome back to my fic! How nice of you to come. I must thank you for all of the nice comments I have been receiving lately. I'm glad that you all like it. Well, in honor of all of this, here is a new chapter for you to enjoy!

Disclaimer: I do not own anything associated with Tolkien Enterprises or Lord of the Rings.

ooOoo

To Be Forever Faithful

By: Ponytail Goddess

Chapter 16: Alarm and Chaos

Eltirwen jumped out of her bed immediately upon hearing screams for help outside of her talan. Not even bothering to put a robe over her silken, wine-colored nightdress, she flew down the hall, surrounded by the darkness, towards the elf shouting for her. Eltirwen's feet reached the doorway just as the door flew open, making her jump back in shock.

"Eltirwen!" Rumil cried, hoisting himself and a limp figure into the talan. "Make haste, she is in a bad way!"

The healer, however, could already tell the elleth he was holding was in critical condition. At first glance, she could see that Belegwen's face was bruised, her middle bleeding significantly, and the smell of burnt flesh was lingering in the air, making her question whether or not the elleth had been on fire.

"Follow me!" She exclaimed, running towards her healing room as fast as her legs could carry her. Upon entering, she immediately tied her hair back haphazardly, then washed her hands.

"Set her on the bed!" She called back to Rumil as she tried to dry her hands. Her adrenaline was pumping and her hands were shaking slightly from trying to make haste. She struggled to finish quickly, though she knew she needed to.

"What now?" Rumil called back to her, his voice sounding equally anxiety-laden. She glanced over her shoulder at him as she started mixing liquids and herbs in a frenzy to make a poultice.

"Cut the fabric away from the stab wound so I can inspect it!" She cried, pointing with her free hand towards Belegwen's abdomen. She then turned her full attention to her concoction, which was sloshing out of its beaker as she stirred it messily. Behind her, she could hear Rumil ripping the fabric off of her so the wound was visible.

Out of the corner of her eye, Eltirwen spied something amiss from her window. Though time was of the essence, she allowed herself a quick glance, then gasped with disbelief at what she saw. The woods were on fire! She could see red and oranges flames shooting up out of the silvery woods in the distance.

"Rumil, you need to go and wake up the other healers, then sound the alarms! There is a fire out there! Hurry Rumil, there is no more you can do here!" Eltirwen shouted as she began to apply pressure to Belegwen's wound with a clean rag.

Rumil looked confused momentarily, as if he could not decide whether staying or leaving was more important. He started to object, but was cut off by Eltirwen's authoritative voice.

"Go Rumil, now!" She screeched, infuriated that he was not attending to his duty. Rumil stepped away when she shouted at him, took one last quick look at Belegwen, then ran out of the room and down the talan stairway as fast as he could manage.

"Oh no!" Eltirwen moaned as she hurried over to Belegwen, spilling a few drops of the poultice on the floor. As she set the glass beaker on the table next to the bed, she quickly inspected the stab wound. It was a clean cut, right into Belegwen's oblique muscles. Luckily, it seemed to have missed her internal organs, though it was close enough to her ribs that it might have bruised or possibly broken the lower ones. She cleaned off the wound as carefully as she could then went to work applying the poultice.

"You have lost a lot of blood tonight. Oh Belegwen, I told you not to come back here for a while!" She muttered to herself, her large grey eyes filled with worry. She was going to have to watch her carefully tonight; patient's facing this sort of injury could go downhill quickly if left improperly attended.

"Come on Belegwen..." She whispered as she began to bandage her middle with care. "Stay with me."

ooOoo

"Help! All wardens, you are needed! Help!" Upon hearing this, Haldir bolted up in his bed, immediately alert. He cursed, then jumped out of bed.

Grabbing some leggings and tying them quickly, he stumbled to the doorway and burst into the hallway to see what was going on. The hall was filled with frantic wardens, running this was and that. He was nearly knocked down by one warden who banged into his body amid the chaos.

Quickly running down the stairs, Haldir ran right into the ellon who was screaming out the warnings. "Heledhril! What is the meaning of this?!" He shouted, alarmed with the scene playing out before him.

Heledhril, appearing to be in a very bad way, took a second to gasp for breath before answering his Marchwarden. Haldir could tell by the look on his face that something ghastly was happening. "Sir, orcs sir! Hundreds are attacking the northern border! There is a fire in the wood as well!"

Haldir did not need to hear any more. Not bothering to grab a shirt or his sword, he flew down the stairs at a speed unimaginable, pushing elves out of the way as necessary. If a war was being forged at the border of his glorious homeland, he was going to be there to fight it with every last bit of determination he had. Out the door and into the woods he ran, his blonde hair unbraided and flying every which way as he flew through the brush.

The run was a blur which passed quickly. Soon, he could see the blazing trees ahead and was greeted with screams of agony as his wardens were meeting the orcs in a devastating battle. As he entered the pandemonium, he saw an orc crawling across the ground with a sword sticking out of its chest. Without giving it a second thought, he pulled the sword out of the hideous creature and used it to remove its head. Now armed for battle, Haldir jumped into a scuffle immediately, slashing and stabbing at a few orcs who had cornered one of his wardens against a burning mallorn tree.

Looking to his right, he saw a small group of orcs starting to head away from the fire and towards the city. "Not a chance." He growled, running after them. They would not make it to the civilians and his lord and lady. Haldir would never allow such a thing to occur. No innocent elves were going to have to suffer as long as he could prevent it.

The first two orcs in the group were much too slow and were beheaded almost immediately. The other two were a bit more clever though, weaving through the trees, purposefully trying to confuse him. He launched the sword at the farthest one and watched as the impaled orc fell to the ground, unmoving. The last one he pounced on and tackled. The two rolled painfully down a hill and through some tree branches before wrestling one another, each trying to gain the upper hand. Spying a large rock nearby, Haldir rolled over to grab it, then smashed it into the orc's head, stilling his movements immediately.

Gasping for breath and wiping orc blood from his face, Haldir ran back up the hill and retrieved the sword for a second time. He could feel the heat of the flames around him as he looked to the skies. The treetops around him with filled with fire and the large amount of smoke was making it hard for him to see his surroundings.

"No!" He whispered mournfully, in utter disbelief as he saw one of the trees start to lean as though it would fall to the ground. Everything was going to be destroyed!

"Our home," he thought to himself, shocked to the core at the searing loss he felt within his heart. "Not our home!"

The wardens were running amuck around him, still deeply engaged in the chaotic battle. Distantly, he could here the alarms going off in the city over the roaring flames and shouting voices.

It was surreal.

"Haldir, you must stop the flames." The Lady Galadriel whispered in his head, effectively returning him from his shocked state. Suddenly, he regained his focus and called several wardens over to him. They quickly climbed into the less dangerous trees in search of buckets, then took the few they were able to find and went to fill them in the nearby river. Haldir organized the wardens into a line to pass the full buckets to the flaming trees quickly, with runners ready to return each bucket to the riverside to be filled again.

Soon, more buckets turned up with the arrival of additional wardens from the city, each joining a line and attempting to put out the inferno. Once the project was well-underway and the orc danger seemed to have subsided, Haldir quickly joined them. Bucket after bucket of water was given to him to throw onto the persistent flames. His strong arms ached from the weight of the buckets, but onward he pushed himself, knowing the fate of their very homes were at stake.

It seemed like he was working for hours, receiving the heavy buckets and throwing them onto the fire to dull the flames. On and on he went, though their progress was very slow. Smoke filled his lungs, leading to fits of coughing and exhaustion. His body was screaming for him to stop and rest, but he knew in his heart that he could not until the job was done.

Finally, as the very first signs of daylight started to appear, the task had been accomplished and the flames were no more. Heavily fatigued, Haldir fell into a sitting position, propping himself up against a wet mallorn that was scorched and still smoldering above his head. He coughed and sputtered, closing his eyes for a few seconds before opening them again as he struggled to breathe deeply. Smoke was still billowing in the air. Hot and heavy, it draped around him and the remaining wardens like a thick blanket on a winter's night. Inside, Haldir felt nothing but dread. He had been surrounded by death all night long and was filled with sorrow. Evil was filling Arda and it seemed like there would soon be no goodness left within it.

As he looked around, he noticed the wardens around him had finally slowed, many frowning or shedding a tear over what had been lost. Haldir found the scene to be more than he could bear, so he looked away and found his eyes resting on his lap. Idly, he stared down at his bloody hands and the sword that was in them. Suddenly, a look of disbelief crossed his face as he looked over the elven blade with recognition.

The sword he had carried all night was none other than the infamous Nimrodel.

"Belegwen!"

ooOoo

Edited by P.G. on 05/20/20.

I hope you enjoyed this chapter. Feel free to comment on it. I'll try to update soon. Have a nice weekend!

-P.G.