Greetings, salutations, and sincerest apologies for taking so long to update. You know the drill. Read, review, make me happy.
Elvish translations at the bottom of the page. Because I'm too lazy to go back and put it within the dialogue.
Disclaimers: Lord of the Rings and its respective characters, place names, etc. are copyright the estate of John Ronald Reuel Tolkien; scenes from the movie are replicated as accurately as possible (and with surprisingly little embellishment ) and are of course the property of Peter Jackson et al.; "Into the West" is the property of Fran Walsh/Annie Lennox. I think those are the only copyright laws I've infringed upon...cough
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Part IV: Helm's Deep
1: Honoring the Allegiance
Legolas heaved a heavy sigh, making a last-ditch effort to rally his hope. The Fellowship had split apart, and he was presently with Aragorn and Gimli, huddled inside Rohan's fortress of Helm's Deep, awaiting a battle which he was certain would not end well. He choked down a wave of despair as it once again became evident that Haldir had been right: "If you go, you will die." He only hoped that Aragorn could lead Théoden and his men safely through the night.
Legolas stood by while Aragorn and Gimli clad themselves in armor. Aragorn donned chain mail and plates swiftly, no doubt from having experienced war far too many times. Legolas handed the Man his sword. Aragorn took it with a nod of gratitude.
"We have trusted you this far; you have no led us astray," Legolas said humbly, his voice dripping with regret. "Forgive me. I was wrong to despair."
Aragorn shook his head a little and put a hand on Legolas's shoulder. He gently replied, "Ú-moe edhored, Legolas.[snp1 "
Legolas felt a pang of sadness as he remembered the night in Mirkwood when Haldir had told him the very same thing.
Gimli struggled into his chain mail with a frustrated grunt. The rings of metal cascaded past his feet and pooled on the floor, about two feet too long. Legolas could not suppress a grin. "It's a little tight across the chest," the Dwarf grumbled.
Suddenly, the echo of fair horns rolled into Helm's Deep. A thrilling jolt shot up Legolas's spine. "That is no Orc horn!" he said excitedly, dashing outside with Aragorn.
Haldir led the forces of Lórien across the bridge into Helm's Deep, wondering apprehensively what the impending battle would hold for him. He had known for days, ever since Galadriel had sent him to Rohan, at Elrond's behest. He recognized the stones of the fortress's walls from the reflection in Galadriel's mirror.
Théoden strode down the steps toward him, looking incredibly relieved as he murmured, "How is this possible?"
Haldir bowed gracefully and addressed the King of Rohan, saying, "I bring word from Elrond of Rivendell. An alliance once existed between Elves and Men. Long ago we fought and died together." Haldir glanced up, hearing some latecomer approaching. His heart caught in his throat when none other than the Prince of Mirkwood himself came barreling into the night air. Haldir grinned at the look of elation on Legolas's and said smoothly, "We come to honor that allegiance."
Aragorn descended the steps, a huge smile of gratitude on his face. "Mae govannen, Haldir,[snp2 " he said.
Haldir inclined his head respectfully to the future King of Men. He was more than a little shocked when Aragorn embraced him in a Dúnadan bear-hug. The Marchwarden stiffened uncertainly before returning the hug awkwardly.
Aragorn stood back, his eyes gleaming. "You are most welcome!"
Haldir's eyes met Legolas's then, and the Mirkwood Elf flung himself at the Marchwarden, arms wide. Haldir grabbed Legolas's shoulders, trying to communicate to him with a stiff expression that this was neither the time nor the place for a heartfelt reunion. Legolas looked a little disappointed, so Haldir flashed a smirk and a wink at him.
Sure enough, every Elf in Haldir's company spun on their heels for a better view of the exchange, curiosity sparking in their eyes. For once, it was Haldir who reddened. Legolas grinned widely and stood at the Marchwarden's shoulder.
Haldir gazed at the King of Rohan and told him solemnly, "We are proud to fight alongside Men once more."
"And we are proud to have such an ally," Théoden responded. "Rohan is forever in your debt, Haldir of Lórien, as well as in the debt of all Elf-kind."
Haldir surveyed the king arrogantly. "Let's not get carried away. I do not see either of my brothers here."
"Ahem!" Orophin shouted.
Haldir continued, ignoring his brother. "You are indebted to Lord Elrond, Lady Galadriel, and myself alone." He paused before adding impishly, "And Legolas, I suppose, whatever paltry contribution he may make."
Legolas grabbed Haldir's wrist and dragged him into the Keep. "I am so glad you are here," the princeling babbled excitedly. "Three hundred against ten thousand! The odds made my head spin. Well, they are not much better, I suppose, but thank Eru you are here. I knew things would end happily somehow."
"Happily?" Haldir echoed weakly, a shadow of sadness crossing his face.
Legolas looked him up and down, the luster of desire evident in his eyes. He traced the scutes of Haldir's gold breastplate with his thumb and murmured, "The armor suits you well. Very handsome. I am particularly fond of the red cloak."
Haldir allowed a small smirk. "Thank you. I suspected that you would like it."
The princeling's face glowed. "Words cannot express how happy I am to see you, Haldir. I have missed you more than anything else. Many nights I lay awake, gazing up at the stars, wondering whether you were still alive to see them. I had no way of knowing whether you were still safe, and it was almost more than I could bear. I had almost forgotten what hope felt like. It had long since faded into the world of night, falling through the shadows out of memory and time. But no more."
"I am glad to hear it," Haldir said feebly.
"You see weakness in yourself," Legolas said, his face aglow with a wide smile. "You think you are a coward. But you are wrong, meleth nîn. You wear no mask. You have become that which you pretended to—"
Haldir silenced Legolas in the only way he could think to, pressing his lips over the other Elf's in a passionate kiss. He buried the fingers of one hand in Legolas's golden hair, voraciously drinking in his scent. He had to pull back when he felt tears rolling down his cheeks.
Legolas picked up on Haldir's anxiety instantly. "Tell me what is wrong," he said. It was almost more of an order than a request. Odd. It was unlike Legolas to assert himself so. Perhaps being around a cantankerous Dwarf for so long had changed him.
"Pay me no mind," Haldir said dismissively, hurriedly drying his eyes with a gloved hand. "I want you to make me a promise. I know you will not listen to what I tell you, but please, for my own sake, I have to know you heard it. Do not look for me during the battle. Do not think of me."
"Why?" Legolas demanded, his face wrought with concern. "This is not like you, Haldir. You have still not told me what is wrong."
Haldir ignored the question a second time. "I want you to stay with Gimli and Aragorn. Do not stray from their sides, do you hear me?"
"What about you?"
"Please. You insult me, Legolas. I am one of the Galadrim. I will be just fine," Haldir said loftily, putting on a smile.
Haldir breathed a sigh of relief when Legolas finally nodded. "Alright. But afterward I will find you," he vowed. "The instant the battle is over, I will find you."
Haldir threw his arms around Legolas's armored shoulders, blinking back tears. "Le melon tenn' Ambar-metta, ernil nîn.[snp3 Never forget."
"How can I forget the one I love?" Legolas whispered.
Haldir held Legolas at arm's length, no longer caring about the tears on his face. "Fetch your bow, princeling. You and I will meet again. Now we must meet both our fates."
True to his word, Legolas found Gimli and never strayed far from the Dwarf's side. The two friends-by-necessity stood upon the battlements of Helm's Deep, watching as Saruman's black army slowly took shape on the edge of the horizon. The men on the ramparts were all deathly silent.
Legolas took comfort in the fact that he could just see Haldir through the darkness, standing among his warriors as they awaited the impending storm. His face was grim as he stared nervously at the black expanse before the fortress, searching for signs of the enemy. Legolas found himself wondering how long he would wait before he could go to his beloved's side.
Legolas had to grin when Gimli growled suddenly and complained, "You could have picked a better spot."
Aragorn appeared behind Legolas's shoulder suddenly. Gimli looked up at the Man and said, "Well, lad, whatever luck you live by, let's hope it lasts the night."
A sudden bolt of lightning lit the plains before Helm's Deep with a jolt of bright-white light, briefly illuminating the enormous expanse of the approaching army. Legolas's eyes grew wide. There were so many. They would break upon the fortress like water on rock.
"Your friends are with you, Aragorn," Legolas said.
"Let's hope they last the night," Gimli added grimly.
Aragorn strode off. Then another bolt of lightning brought with it the first patterings of rain. The drops spattered loudly on the armor of the soldiers, the noise escalating as the rain fell more steadily until it was almost deafening.
The Uruk-Hai crept toward Helm's Deep like a sea of ants, their boots tramping loudly on the now-wet grass. Right on cue, Aragorn began pacing along the line of Elves, instructing them, "A Eruchin, ú-dano i faelas a hyn, an uben tanatha le faelas![snp4 "
One Uruk-Hai climbed atop a bluff and roared threateningly. The army abruptly came to a halt. Legolas's heart pounded, the tension almost unbearable. The Uruk-Hai just stood there snarling at the warriors in the fortress above them, locked in a deadly staring contest.
Jumping up and down, Gimli demanded, "What's happening out there?"
Legolas grinned impishly. "Shall I describe it to you, or would you like me to find you a box?"
2: Into the West
Haldir's heart started hammering wildly when the Uruk-Hai started stamping their spears on the ground—psychological warfare, no doubt conceived by the White Wizard himself. He swallowed hard, fighting to keep himself from descending into panic. He and the other Elves readied their bows.
Aragorn snapped, "Dartho![snp5 " Suddenly, all fell silent, a calm before the storm. Then the Uruk-Hai charged, roaring like the foul beasts they were.
"Tangado a chadad![snp6 " Aragorn ordered.
Haldir instantly fitted an arrow to his bow and drew the string, his chest heaving as he still struggled to swallow his fear.
"Leithio i philinn![snp7 "
"Duty over self," Haldir murmured, then released the first arrow.
The Marchwarden fired arrow after arrow, like a machine. Fear still clamped tightly onto his heart. Any breath could be his last. However, despite what Galadriel had told him, he still believed he could avoid this fate. Many times the mirror's "future" had been incorrect. He would prove the mirror wrong yet again. He would hold Legolas in his arms one last time under the Lothlórien stars.
Panic dropped in his stomach like a lead weight when the Uruk-Hai raised ladders. He drew his sword and licked his lips nervously. He suddenly had no time for fear; in an instant, the first Uruk was upon him, and Haldir was literally battling for his life.
Haldir fought mechanically through the masses of Uruk-Hai, hardly thinking, relying on instinct to preserve himself. He was only snapped back to reality when an enormous shockwave rocked Helm's Deep. Haldir watched in shock as a huge section of the Deeping Wall crumbled, some witchery of Saruman's. The Uruk-Hai started pouring toward the gaping opening until a band of Elves sprinted out to prevent the Uruks from breaching the wall.
How long he fought, Haldir never knew. It seemed like days. Uruk after Uruk fell to his sword, countless in number—or so it felt. The fatigue of battle was overpowering. His limbs felt like rubber, his hands ached from being contorted around his sword for so long. His breaths came in painful, ragged pants as exhaustion overtook him, but out of sheer adrenaline he fought even harder.
He was relieved when he heard Aragorn call from below him, "Haldir! Nan barad![snp8 "
Haldir nodded and beckoned for his warriors to retreat, not sure whether to feel relieved or even more terrified. "Nan barad![snp9 " he screamed, his voice hoarse.
He glanced around to see that his Elves were retreating, then turned to go himself. There was an unexpected Uruk right in his face, and he quickly killed it with a swift swipe of his sword.
Suddenly, Haldir felt a stab of pain in his side. A strangled yell ripped out of his throat as he doubled over in agony. He lashed out with his sword to fend off the attacking Uruk, one hand clamped firmly over his wound. He felt something wet and pulled his hand away. His heart stopped. He stared in utter disbelief. There was blood on his fingertips.
He wheeled about, panicked, ready to make a mad dash for the Keep. Perhaps the wound was not as deep as it felt. Perhaps someone could bandage it, and everything would be fine, and—
Haldir stiffened in anguish as he felt steel in his back. He sank to his knees, overcome by agony and despair. He decided that this could not be happening. He had simply fallen asleep in Lórien and strayed into a nightmare. He would awaken soon, safe in his prince's arms.
The faces of fallen Elves stared up at him, glassy-eyed, seeing nothing. Immortals faced with mortality. Ironic. Elves were not even supposed to die; why was it going to be his fate? The faces spun in his mind as his senses began to grow duller. He drew a soft, excruciating gasp, realizing that he had failed. Failed in his duty to Galadriel, failed Lord Elrond, failed Middle Earth itself. Failed Legolas.
Who would protect Legolas now? Who would welcome him home, who would hold him in the night? He could hardly breathe past the knot in his throat. Every agonizing gasp made his chest burn. His princeling, alone…
He felt Aragorn take hold of his shoulders, but it somehow seemed very distant. The cacophony of the battle had subsided now. Even the intense pain of his wounds was beginning to subside. The gray rain-curtain of the world rolled back, and everything took on a silver glow. He fell limply against Aragorn's shoulder as the storm of the living world diminished. He coud just barely hear a white gull wailing as he drifted into the West.
"Final count: forty-two," Legolas announced proudly.
Gimli paused to puff on his pipe before he acknowledged, "Forty-two? Oh, that's not bad for a pointy-eared Elvish princeling." Legolas grinned warmly in self-appreciation. The Dwarf smirked smugly under his beard. "I myself am sitting pretty on forty-three."
Legolas immediately drew an arrow and shot the Uruk on which Gimli was sitting. "Forty-three!"
"He was already dead."
"He was twitching!" Legolas said defensively.
"He was twitching because he's got my axe embedded in his nervous system!" Gimli bellowed, wiggling his axe to demonstrate.
Legolas scowled in false anger and turned to go. "Oi, where you going, lad?" Gimli demanded.
"I need a drink," Legolas answered, "and I have an appointment with a dear friend."
He picked his way through the fallen Uruks. "Haldir!" he called victoriously. "Haldir, where are you?" He stopped an Elf he recognized as Haldir's brother. "Orifice—"
"Orophin," the Elf abruptly corrected.
"…Oh. Have you seen Haldir?"
Orophin was silent for a split second before he said softly, "He fought bravely. Alas, he did not survive."
Legolas felt the color drain from his face. He shook his head softly, his mouth agape in disbelief. His entire body shook. "No. No, that cannot be true! He's not dead! He promised me that we would meet again!"
Orophin did not respond. Instead, he dipped his head, wearing a sympathetic expression.
Without a second of hesitation, Legolas dashed up the ramparts, desperately wailing Haldir's name. His heart stopped when he saw a flash of red cloak. Haldir laid face-up on top of it. His emerald eyes, once so full of adoration as well as familiar arrogance, stared blankly up at the sky, seeing nothing.
Legolas's knees gave out instantly, and he fell at Haldir's side. With a soft sob, he gathered the Marchwarden into his arms, crying into his hair, "Haldir! Avawartho nîn! Daro a nîn![snp10 " He sealed his lips over Haldir's and fought desperately to revive the fallen Elf, trying to fill his lungs with air. Nothing happened.
He kissed Haldir's cold brow, tasting his own salty tears. A new wave of anguish washed over him when his fingers found the gaping wound in Haldir's back. He suddenly felt profoundly alone in the vast world. Lost.
All Legolas could do was sob. He buried his face in the Marchwarden's shoulder, gathering a fistful of red cloak in each hand. His shoulders shook violently as Haldir's smudged and dented armor became slick with tears. "Le melon tenn' Ambar-metta,[snp11 " he whimpered, gently rocking Haldir in his arms. "Avawartho nîn ave…[snp12 "
Epilogue: Athelas
The fields outside Helm's Deep no longer displayed the scars of the war that had ended years before. The ashes of the pyres had been carried away on the breeze, and the simbemynë now grew thickly on the graves of the fallen.
Three months. Legolas himself would make the journey to the Gray Havens in only three months. Gimli had even agreed to accompany him. Three months until he would be safe in his Marchwarden's arms once again, in a far, green country under a swift sunrise.
Legolas held a fistful of athelas in his hand, turning the weeds slowly in the gentle wind. "You would be happy to know that I am safe," Legolas said, addressing Haldir. "I slew many of Sauron's army. I took down an Oliphaunt all by myself. I walked straight up to the Black Gate." He sighed quietly. "Ah, you should have been there. It was all very heroic. And the Dwarf? He is not as repulsive as we first thought. Though I can certainly out-drink him."
He heard Gimli shuffling up behind him and turned to look over his shoulder. "I've been calling you for hours, lad," Gimli said gruffly. "Where have you been?"
Legolas glanced at Haldir's grave, a tender expression on his face. "I felt the need to decorate the grave of an old friend," Legolas replied, tossing a sprig of athelas onto the blanket of simbelmynë.
"Kingsfoil?" Gimli questioned. "It's a weed."
Legolas smiled softly. "He is more of a weed than a flower himself."
"Elves," Gimli grumbled to himself, then shuffled off.
"Very soon, meleth nîn. Very soon, and I will be in your arms again." Legolas laid the rest of the athelas on the grave and turned his face toward the setting sun. His smile grew as he sang softly, "What can you see on the horizon? Why do the white gulls call? Across the sea, a pale moon rises. The ships have come to carry you home. And all will turn to silver glass, a light on the water, gray ships pass into the West."
A sudden feisty simper lit Haldir's features. He immediately swept his princeling up in his arms and enveloped him in the tenderest of kisses, never wanting to let him go. He tucked a lock of blonde behind Legolas's ear and murmured in a honey-smooth baritone dripping with arrogance, "Le ab-dollen, meleth nîn.[snp13 " He flashed his trademark smirk. "You look terrible."
[snp1There is nothing to forgive, Legolas.
[snp2Well met, Haldir.
[snp3I love you until the ending of the world, my prince.
[snp4Show them no mercy, for you shall receive none!
[snp5Hold!
[snp6Prepare to fire!
[snp7Fire arrows!
[snp8Haldir! To the Keep!
[snp9To the Keep!
[snp10Haldir! Do not leave me! Stay with me!
[snp11I love you until the ending of the world.
[snp12Do not leave me now...
[snp13You're late, my love.
Explanation: Um. So, I kind of twisted the whole "sailing into the West" thing as a metaphor for death. I vaguely remember reading in one of Tolkien's books that Elves who die in battle also go into the West, just like the Elves who go to the Grey Havens. In theory, then, the far, green country is basically heaven, and Legolas and Haldir would be reunited there. Granted, I really skewed the concept, but hey, I really, really didn't want to kill Haldir. Much. I apologize to any fundamentalists out there who take offense to my interpretation.
Now then, I have worked very hard creating this immense fic for your reading pleasure. Let's just say a review rate of less than 1 doesn't make me too happy. '( Please be nice; now that you've slogged through nearly 20,000 words, type a few of your own and tell me what you thought of my very first fic. I will love you for it.