Chapter Ten - Teetering On The Brink
Haldir gazed around the cove as he swiftly led his company towards the Deep. Galadriel had told him that she had witnessed the fall of Rohan, and subsequently the rest of the world, in her mirror. She had declared that now was the time to re-establish the old alliances which had crumbled over three thousand years ago on the Plains of Gorgoroth. Knowing that the camaraderie between Elves and Men, had dwindled over the years, particularly between those of Lothlórien and Rohan, and that they were embarking what amounted to a suicide mission for the sake of the mortals, Haldir had requested volunteers to accompany him. Two hundred had stepped forward. Galadriel had asked Haldir to stay in Lothlórien, she herself having misgivings about Haldir's presence at the upcoming battle but when Celeborn had informed him that the Dúnedain twins were caught up in the troubles, Haldir was determined to lead his troops. Reluctantly, Galadriel allowed the silver-Elf to march at the head of the army.
Within his cohort were his younger brothers, Rúmil and Orophin. Haldir had slight misgivings about the pair going to Rohan but neither could be dissuaded. As Orophin had told him, they three of them had never separated before and they were not about to start. There was no hope of persuading one of them to stay in the Golden Wood while the other marched to war. They may have been a century apart in age, but Rúmil and Orophin were as close as the twins of Imladris. Haldir could only pray that they would remain as safe as one could in pitch battle.
They had past through the Dike with little trouble, the men there delighted to welcome anyone who was willing to help them fight and now they were approaching the causeway. Nodding to Orophin, he signalled for the trumpet to sound around the cove, announcing their presence and the fact that they were not Orcs. As they marched up the stone path to the main gate of the Deep, the wooden structure was drawn open and the Elves filed in. Around them, the faces of the Rohirrim seemed to lighten, as though some immense weight had been lifted partially from their shoulders. Glancing around, Haldir looked for someone who looked like they commanded the Men as saw him wandering down the steps towards him, apparently in a daze.
"How is this possible?" asked Théoden as he took in the army of Lothlórien. Haldir came to a halt at the base of the steps and saluted the King of Rohan. Behind him, his warriors came to a halt before turning in unison, the standard bearers planting the ends of their staffs on the ground.
"Three thousand years ago, there existed an alliance between the Elves and Men. Together, our people fought, and died, for the sake of the world," said Haldir. Théoden took another dazed step down towards the Elves but before he could say another word, a figure came charging down the stairs and, without ceremony, Aragorn flung himself at Haldir almost knocking him off his feet. Slightly startled, Haldir caught him about the back and hugged him back for a brief moment.
"You are most welcome," said the Man once he had withdrawn. Haldir gave him a brief nod before gripping Legolas' forearm and opposite forearm in greeting. Dídauar didn't approach the Elves, instead remaining on steps behind Théoden, an unreadable expression in her eye and on her face. Haldir looked at her, concern shining in his eyes though he was careful not to allow Théoden see such an emotion. It would not do well to appear condescending.
"We have come to rekindle that alliance," said Haldir, as Éomer and Háma appeared behind Théoden. Théoden, still slightly amazed at the arrival of the Elves, nodded in gratitude before turning back to Éomer and muttering something. Éomer nodded sharply and hurried back up the steps. Giving both Rúmil and Aragorn a meaningful look, Haldir took hold of Dídauar's arm and pulled her away from the steps while the other pair led the Elven army to the battlements.
"You are troubled," said Haldir, resting his index finger beneath Dídauar's chin and tilting her face up so that their eyes met.
"'tis only now that the Lady sends her aid," said Dídauar. "It was needed many days ago."
"What has happened?" asked Haldir.
"The Fellowship is asunder," replied Dídauar. "For certain, I know that two are dead. Legolas, Aragorn and Gimli are here. Where the Hobbits are, I cannot, and will not, guess."
"Wait. Two are dead?" asked Haldir. Dídauar nodded.
"Boromir was slain by Orcs in the forest near Sarn Gebir not long after the Fellowship left Lothlórien," she said. Haldir stared.
"How do you know that?" he asked.
"I watched him fall. When I arrived in Rohan, Legolas confirmed what I saw," said Dídauar. Her voice remained emotionless, but she rubbed one hand up and down the opposite forearm in a gesture Haldir recognised as her mutely asking for comfort. He pulled his charge to him, one hand coming up to cradle the back of her head which was resting on his shoulder while the other wrapped itself tightly around the waist. Haldir rested his temple against the top of Dídauar's head as she continued.
"Four times, I watched him fall," she said, her eyes fixed firmly on the stone wall behind even as she wrapped her arms about Haldir's back. "After the third, Lord Elrond promised me that he would speak to your Lady, warning that Boromir was in danger, yet still he fell!"
"So that is why you are here," said Haldir in realisation. "You are here to avenge his death."
"I am here to ensure that Rohan does not fall into darkness by Saruman's hand without a fight," replied Dídauar, pulling away. "Boromir was not the only one I watched fall to the Enemy."
"Was it a Rohirrim? There is a sadness and anger that lingers about these people," asked Haldir. "Particularly the King."
"Their prince is dead," said Dídauar. "Slain whilst defending his people from the same Enemy we are about to face."
"Your colt," murmured Haldir. Dídauar's head shot up.
"Glorfindel said the same thing," she said. "Am I really that protective?"
"Of the ones you hold to your heart," replied Haldir. "But I cannot fault you for it is for that same reason I am here."
"Not you as well!" protested Dídauar. "I am perfectly capable of holding my own."
"At the risk of sounding nostalgic, to me you will forever be the eight-year-old child who unknowing wormed her way into my heart," said Haldir allowing a small smile. "And I am not the only one who refuses to believe that you have grown."
Dídauar groaned causing Haldir to chuckle slightly.
"Kalya, promise me that you will be careful tonight," he requested, taking Dídauar's head between his hands. "You cannot protect anything if you are dead."
"I promise," said Dídauar. Haldir pressed a kiss to her forehead, and Dídauar one to his cheek, before the two separated for their respective peoples.
"Now, this is more to my liking," proclaimed Gimli as the defending army stood watching Saruman's horde approach, gradually cutting off any hope of escape. "A wall which is thick enough for four men to stand abreast."
The atmosphere about the Keep being so tense, his gruff voice carried a substantial distance. Most of the Elves hadn't a clue what he had said but some of the Human's smiled slightly in amusement. Legolas, who was standing beside the Dwarf, offered a response but his musical voice did not carry as far.
"What I wouldn't give for a hundred of his people," muttered Halbarad from beside Dídauar. "But the skilled archers of Lothlórien are appreciated."
Gimli, being only four Elves away, heard the Dúnadan's comment. "It is dark for archery," he called back. "Indeed it is time for sleep!"
"As soon as battle starts he and Legolas will be in competition with each other," muttered Aragorn as he appeared between his kin.
"……Give me a row of Orc necks, and room to swing," Gimli was saying, only to be cut off by a crack of thunder and flash of lightening which illuminated the black sea that was encroaching on the Rohirric soil. A cry went up suddenly as horse hooves could be heard heading for the Deep. Five minutes later, another fifty men appeared along the battlements and Gamling was hurrying towards the twins and Haldir.
"They have breeched the Dike," he reported. "Their march is slowed but even now they press forward."
"At least they know that Rohan will not be as easy a victory as they have been assured," said Dídauar, the venom in her voice causing Aragorn to start. Yes, Dídauar hated the Orcs with almost the same intensity as the Elven twins but the elder child of Arathorn had the distinct impression that Dídauar was hiding something. He looked over at Halbarad, questions shining in his eyes but the older man shook his head. If Aragorn knew why they were in Rohan, his attention would be diverted and the people of Rohan could not afford that.
'A Eruchîn, ú-dano i faelas a hyn an uben tanatha le faelas,' Haldir called to his people over another crack of thunder. In response the hundred Elves on the battlements notched an arrow to their bowstrings, though none applied tension to the string. Behind them, Rúmil could be heard giving the command to prepare to fire. (Show them no mercy for you shall receive none)
After what seemed an eternity, the army before them came to a halt just as the rain started to fall. The Captain of the Orcs gave out a roar, resulting in his followers beginning a rhythm on the ground. The beating of 10,000 spears was enough to make pebbles on the walls bounce and the noise was deafening as it was caught by the cove and thrown back.
Too many winters was not necessarily a bad thing, it being believed that with age one gained wisdom which could be passed to the younger generations. However, in a battle it was a curse. It was tiring for an Elf to maintain a bow drawn to fire for a great length of time but for a man who had seen battle for as long as Théoden had been King, it was doubly so. It was therefore no great surprise when an arrow was accidentally loosed from a Rohirrim's bow, imbedding itself in the neck of an Uruk-Hai. The pounding of spears and pikes stopped and a deafening silence echoed around the cove as the as everyone watched the creature pitch forward. Haldir tightened the grip he had on his bow, his men following suit and taking aim, waiting for the Uruks to make the next move.
A scream of outrage from the Uruk leader preceded the start of the attack, the black mass storming to the walls like a swarm of flies.
"Rúmil!" yelled Haldir and the younger Elf was heard giving the call to fire. A hundred arrows flew over their heads and landed in the Uruks, some falling, others just staggering under the unexpected blow. Another hundred arrows flew, this time from the Elves on the wall. Arrows from the Rohirrim sporadically entered the fray but not at the same mechanical rate as the Elves. They continued in the same manner – a hundred arrows at a time, alternating between those on the wall and those behind it - until the Orcs began firing back, striking both Men and Elves. One of the Dúnedain who had followed Dídauar was sent flying back as an Orc bolt stuck him in the chest and Dídauar's eyes flared with a dangerous fire. He was followed closely by one of the Galadhrim which caused Orophin to snarl.
"Ladders!" yelled someone suddenly and the sound of blades being unsheathed sounded about the Deeping Wall, along with a worrying cheerful yell from Gimli. The defenders immediately started to hack at anything that came over the wall as Rúmil's archers continued to fire their arrows. Rúmil himself had found the quickest way possible to the wall and was now fighting back-to-back with Orophin. Aragorn and Dídauar were fighting side by side, Haldir and Halbarad guarding their backs, the four of them continually moving so as not to present an easy target to the Uruks who also continued to fire arrows.
"OROPHIN!" screamed Rúmil suddenly, causing Haldir to swing round, just in time to see the younger of his two brothers fly over the wall, an Orc leering in delight. Dídauar met Haldir's inflamed eyes and nodded.
"Go," she said. Haldir swiftly made his way through the sea of combatants towards Rúmil who was know lashing out violently at anything that wasn't defender. Aragorn and Halbarad immediately shifted their positions so that the three Dúnedain commanders formed a defence triangle.
As suddenly as it started, the battle seemed to stop, causing a strong sense of consternation among those who were defending the Keep.
"Do not tell me that Orcs have suddenly got cold feet!" exclaimed Halbarad. Aragorn smiled slightly but Dídauar, who normally appreciated her cousin's impish, and occasionally inappropriate, humour was not impressed.
"Prepare yourself for the next wave!" she barked before marching over to Haldir who was regrouping his men, his violet-blue eyes shining with an angry fire. Rúmil looked equally volatile.
"Halbarad, tell me what is wrong with her," demanded Aragorn. "And I will make that an order if I have to!"
"The Rohirrim are important to her, you know that," replied Halbarad. "And she has a very justifiable reason for acting like a wounded and cornered she-wolf but it is not mine to tell you. For now, I would suggest that you attend to the matter in hand, namely that trail of fire heading toward the wall."
Aragorn swung on his heel and followed where Halbarad was pointing. Cursing, and ordering Halbarad to remain with Dídauar, Aragorn took off at a run towards the trouble spot, gathering Gimli and Éomer along the way.