Set in Stone - Haldir's Story -

Chapter 21 - Battleaxe

The orcs were literally everywhere. The walls were crawling with them, they had ladders, they had axes and they looked as if they had climbed straight up from hell. All Haldir wanted to do was send a well-placed arrow between the eyes of the hideous orc-commander, but even quick as he was at notching arrows, he didn't have enough time. One second without concentration would cost him his life. All his wardens were dying around him, yet without them Helm's Deep would've fallen already. The Rohirrim hadn't any decent soldiers left, Theoden in his folly had sent them all into exile with Eomer and now all they had to defend the city were boys and old men. Even Aragorn had looked worn out and was peppered with wounds, Legolas had mentioned something about him having had some kind of fall. Surviving a fall merely to be killed and trampled on by orcs seemed a cruel jape of fate.

When Haldir and his army had arrived at the gates of Helm's Deep it had been dark already and the air had been smelling of rain. "It will be an ugly fight," Elladan had stated. Haldir had suspected the eldest son of Elrond would be leading the soldiers of Imladris into battle - and he had been right, as he had found out shortly after he and his wardens had left the Golden Wood. They hadn't talked about Daera, but Elladan obviously knew what was going on. Haldir was quite sure he couldn't hide it and his unwillingness to speak to the other elf - his subtle coldness when he did - must give him away: show Elladan that his plan had worked. Right before a battle, though, was not the time for such hostilities. Haldir looked up to the sky while they waited for the gate to be opened. He had to agree with Elladan: cold rain would make winning this war just a tad more impossible.

The gates had opened, the elves had walked in and the gates were closed again. Haldir had felt trapped immediately. Shaking the feeling off, he greeted king Theoden and was received in an overjoyed manner by Aragorn. They took their places with the archers and then - waited. The first part of a battle was all about waiting, the second all about staying alive. The first part seemed to stretch on for hours as they could watch the huge orc army approach, but Haldir felt all calm. Elves were really good at that: staying calm and not panicking. They must have seemed rebellious ages ago when they left Valinor to live in Middle-Earth, but compared to humans and dwarves they were... merely watching. They didn't move until the whole world was at stake. Yet then why should the elves bother to try and save human and dwarfish things? Humans, dwarves and everything around them just came and went, was born and died, was built and collapsed; everything was eaten up by time. Everything but the elves.

Haldir had to take a step back when three orcs climbed over the wall and came at him at once. Haldir ducked away under their slashing swords and decapitated one, sticking a dagger into the belly of another. He let go of the knife and dealt the third a blow that send the orc straight back down the wall. The time it took Haldir to free sword and knife from the dead orc bodies was enough to have another set of enemies running towards him. They were too many. The thought had started popping up in Haldir's head and he was struggling to keep it out of his mind. He was still standing on the top of the wall from where he had been shooting arrows at the beginning of the battle; he had hardly moved at all. He hadn't been given the chance to move, since there were always enough orcs coming at him; he had hardly time to breathe at all.

Somewhere to his left he could see Legolas fighting and in between shouting words to the dwarf. They seemed to be getting along quite well. Aragorn was yelling commands not too far away, but Haldir couldn't understand them for all the screaming of orcs and men. If anyone would survive this battle, it was Aragorn - he was such a determined fighter. Yet still there were too many! The soldiers wouldn't be able to hold the wall much longer... Suddenly, the orcs started pulling up ladders that had iron hooks to grip the wall and prevent the defenders from pushing them off. Haldir could just so stop himself from cursing. Not so the dwarf: his creaky voice was audible for miles, it seemed. "Come to me, you damnèd, filthy bastards! To me!"

As if in silent response to the dwarf's cry, the orcs started pushing siege towers to the wall, full up with enemies. They would have to retreat, and soon... The thoughts were racing in Haldir's mind, but all the while he was engaged in fights. Haldir looked left and right, trying to find his wardens, they just had to leave the wall, he couldn't let them all die... "Haldir! Pull back to the keep!" - Haldir could understand Aragorn's words over the noise and turned to find the other elves, or Elladan. Finally. "Pull back!" Haldir turned to slash his way free to get off the wall, only to be met by even more orcs and now - having turned and exposed his back- they were coming from all sides. Not the ideal fighting position, but Haldir just concentrated on pushing on. Or he would have, had there not suddenly been a blade: out of nowhere it was meant to pierce his heart. Haldir didn't have the time to lift his long sword in defence, so whatever happened from then on was mere reflex. Vaguely remembering that he was wearing some kind of armour on his arms as well, Haldir caught the blade with his left forearm. The rusty orc weapon went through metal and fabric and skin all the way down to the bone. Haldir had just about enough time to kill his attacker before the pain set in. His sight went blurry for a second while Haldir stared at the blood streaming onto the floor that was his own. How come pain was always so shocking?! It was true, he hadn't been really injured for a while - not counting his burnt hand, but that hadn't been life-threatening, at least not with Daëra around - but surely he should know how it felt by now? Anyway, he didn't and the pain almost drove him to his knees. He couldn't stop concentrating know, even though he would bleed to death if he didn't figure out a way to stanch his arm... Haldir tried to compose himself, staggered back, one step, two, but now he had to go forward, down the stairs, off the wall, back to the keep... This war wasn't over yet...

It was in this second that Haldir received a terrible blow from behind. And he knew that this war was indeed over - at least for him. From somewhere he heard Aragon call his name, but the seconds were ticking by, time was running out like the blood and life were running from his body. He fell to his knees to join all the lifeless wardens around him. The last thing he saw were the stars - yet they had to be in his mind, since there weren't any stars at the sky that night over Helm's Deep.

Slowly, very slowly the Lady sat down. She thought of her friend Diniel and how much she had loved her sons. Galadriel had wanted nothing more than keeping them alive, for them not to die. She felt her juvenile self bubbling up in her and for a second she would almost have burst into tears. Also we have lost our March Warden before and Celeborn and I are quite firm on which event we would rather have repeated. Now it had happened as it seemed, and still the world was moving on, leaving her at her wisdom's end. It seemed sometimes one could never do the right thing, all the choices led to the same result. She wished her ring was strong enough so she could end all this madness, all this war herself, but it wasn't and she had refused the ring of power. As said before: sometimes there was no right way. Galadriel looked up to the sky, yet there were not stars to be seen.

*Hi guys, I know this was a short and sad one I can't really believe I did this to Haldir, I love him so much! - But stay with me, maybe I'll find a way to... work it out ;) Please remember to comment and vote!!! Love, Jazzlin*