Warriors Proud
Prologue
Quietly he strode among them as they stood in rigid formation, looking each warrior in the eyes as he passed. Courage and intense pride met him in every gaze. These sons of the Noldor, Sindar, and Galadhrim stood shoulder to shoulder, ready to march at his order, ready to die at his command.
The kin of these ellyn, wives, parents, siblings, and children looked on, confident that they would return. But Lord Celeborn did not share that confidence.
He knew what he was doing, ordering these soldiers to Helm’s Deep to aid the desperate mortals in the battle which was sure to come. And he knew better than anyone – including his puissant, farseeing beloved wife – what that outcome would be.
Stopping before Haldir, the captain of Lórien’s march wardens, Celeborn looked long upon him, then clasped him on the shoulder.
“My captain and my friend, what you are leaving to do, I…” Celeborn began.
Haldir flashed him a reassuring smile. “We will bring our people honor in this battle.”
“I know you will. I am just concerned. I just – “ But Haldir cut him off.
“My lord, I have not foreseen my death nor those of my kinsmen accompanying me. Do not fear for us. I will lead my warriors well and we shall return victorious.”
Celeborn closed his eyes for a moment, then sighed, nodding his acceptance. Meeting Haldir’s gaze once again, he clapped him on the shoulder, nearly choking on the blessing as he spoke it.
“May the Belain protect you all and bring you home victorious.”
In a deep commanding voice, Haldir bellowed the orders for his warriors to march.
Galadriel joined Celeborn, wrapping her arm around his waist, but her presence brought him no reassurance. Together, they watched the ellyn stride away to their doom, though only Celeborn fully understood that for some, the doom which awaited would be far greater than any could have imagined.
Chapter 1
The pain that seared through his arm was nothing compared to the agony that flashed across his back, wrenching his broad shoulders as his spine seemed to snap in two.
This was it. It was over.
He never even saw the last blow come – the one that was claiming his life. How had this happened?
He fell hard to his knees, unable even to bend forward against the weight of the pain that dragged him down. Lightning shot across the sky and angry thunder startled back in surprised rage as torrents bathed his wound from above. Even the sky shared his dismay at this fatal blow.
Blinking against the pain, the rain dripped in his eyes, temporarily blurring his vision. He cast his proud gaze to the ground and saw both of his brothers lying nearby, blood smeared on their still and muddy forms. The sound of his heart shattering at the sight was echoed by the thunder ripping apart the night. He had not only failed his Lord and Lady in this ill-fated battle at Helm’s Deep, he also had failed his beloved younger brothers, his only remaining kin.
The next bolt of lightning struck so close that his hair stood on end. A tingling fire coursed through him, numbing the pain of his wounds. The brilliance of the flash blinded his eyes, leaving him staring, but seeing nothing as the world slowly faded from view.
oOoOo
His next awareness brought the sensation of a softness encompassing his body. All around him was darkness, yet there was music which caressed his ears – music which was as gentle as the light of stars in the sky.
So, this is what it is like to be dead and a new arrival in Mandos’ Halls, he thought drowsily.
He lay enraptured by the music until once again, he knew no more.
oOoOo
Something warm and gentle repeatedly brushed his cheek and combed through his hair where it flowed midway down his bare back. He lay on his stomach on something soft and warm. Moving the fingers of his right hand, he realized the softness was fur. He opened his heavy eyelids to gaze in surprise upon bright blue eyes set in a lovely face framed by radiant silver hair that glinted in the candle light as if stars were caught in the flowing waves.
Such loveliness he had never before seen in an elleth. Well, the Lady Galadriel was incredibly beautiful, but she was more like the blossom of dawn in the morning where this elleth was as beams of moonlight in the night when the stars were young.
Mentally, he kicked himself for waxing poetic. What did he know of young stars? He had only seen five thousand years himself – hardly enough time to be able to put a measure of age to the stars. He needed to focus his mind on his current situation.
The elleth who lay stretched out on her side beside him extended her hand to brush his hair away from his eyes and softly caress the side of his face from eyebrow to chin. She smiled at him and it was like the stars touching the deepest part of the sky at the darkest part of the night. He continued to stare, enchanted by her face.
So much for assessing his situation! Annoyance welled within him. He tried to rise but quickly discovered he lacked the strength to even move his arms, let alone roll over or sit up.
“You have slept for a long time. We feared you would die.” Her melodic voice lilted in heavily accented Galadhric. “Are you in pain?”
He struggled to move his lips to answer her, now angry that even something as simple as speech was so difficult. “I feel nothing,” he croaked in the same tongue.
He cleared his throat and considered the messages his body was sending his foggy mind. Slowly, he realized his back and left arm were both throbbing viciously. “My left arm and my back hurt,” he responded in a slightly stronger voice.
She sat up and laid her hands on his arm and back, singing a short gentle song of healing and wholeness. Comforting warmth flowed into him, quelling his anger, easing his pain. When the song ceased, she spoke again.
“It is dangerous to be on the ground out in the open where we found you. We brought you to our dwelling in the forest. You are most fortunate to have survived your wounds. You must serve some great lord to bear the weapons and protective clothing that we found with you,” she observed, awe and admiration clearly evident in her voice. “What is your name and whom do you serve?”
Unable to tear his eyes from her face, he cleared his throat again and softly replied, “I serve Lord Celeborn. My name is Haldir. I am the captain of his march wardens.”
Curiosity filled her face as she inclined her head to him in respect. “I am honored to meet you, Haldir. I am Gilwen daughter of Damrod. I beg your forgiveness for you must be someone of great importance, but I have never heard tell of you or your lord. We are isolated here and only have occasional contact with other settlements. What kindred are you? From whence are you come? Is it a large settlement?”
Now Haldir was the one who was curious! She had never heard of Lord Celeborn? He had dwelt in Middle-earth since before the sun and moon. Every elf he’d ever known had at least heard tell of Celeborn, former Prince of Doriath and current Lord of Lothlórien. An isolated settlement indeed!
“I am of the Galadhrim, from Lothlórien,” he patiently replied. “What of you? How many are in this settlement?”
“We number eighty-three here now that some of our hunters have returned and brought you.” Tears slipped down her cheeks and she turned away to wipe them on a sleeve of her grey dress, all the while keeping her healing hands in place on his body. Anguish filled her face as she met his gaze once again. “Sometimes our people go hunting and do not return. Two of my adar’s brothers never returned. My brother says they were killed,” she sniffed bitterly.
Suddenly images of the fateful battle of Helm’s Deep flashed through Haldir’s mind – the forced march to arrive in time to aid the men of Rohan, his troops lining the walls awaiting the command to fire, the bloody engagement as the orcs and uruk-hai came over the walls, his own injuries and the fall of his brothers. He closed his eyes as he felt his own hot tears trail down his cheeks before he could reign in the intense emotions that suddenly assailed him. When he had command of his feelings again, he asked in a strangled voice, “What of the two ellyn who were lying near me? They were my brothers.”
She shook her head sympathetically. “We found a few others dressed as you were and similar to you in appearance. They, too, were gravely wounded. They lie nearby in the care of my kin and neighbors.”
He sighed in hopeful relief, his body jerking slightly with the pain the movement caused.
“What of the rest of my ellyn?” He asked suddenly.
“What?” She looked confused. “Of what or whom do you speak?”
“The ellyn under my command, the ones I led into battle… Where are they?” he demanded impatiently. “There were two hundred of them. Where are they?”
Eying him warily, she replied, “There were only six whom we found and brought here, including you.”
His mind reeled with confusion then started to go numb again. Struggling with his thoughts, he snapped angrily, “How could that be possible? There was a battle at the fortress of Helm’s Deep. There were hundreds of men and elves, as well as thousands of the enemy. How could you possibly have missed them?”
She looked at him quizzically, concern evident in her voice. “Perhaps your injuries still trouble you such that they cloud your thoughts? What…what is this …this fortress? What is fortress? What are men? Our people sometimes fight orcs, but we move often and live in the trees to stay away from the orcs. No orcs or other creatures of the dark were near when we found you. Obviously, they did you this grievous injury, but apparently they believed you dead and left you to die. We have seen it before, and their black blood was on your clothes. When we found you, Haldir, you were near the forest’s edge, badly injured with only five companions.”
His jaw dropped at her words as he stared in shock. Only five? One does not simply “lose” a fortress and thousands of bodies! Lothlórien is the nearest elven settlement to Helm’s Deep. How could she not know what men are? Nor what a fortress is? She must have misunderstood him.
He squeezed his eyes shut, trying to crush the pounding headache he had suddenly developed. The heat from her hands on his wounds was relaxing his body to the point that he felt consciousness slipping, yet he struggled desperately to maintain his grasp on the present. He needed to understand what had happened!
“How many days have I been here?” He wearily forced out the words.
She looked sad as she worriedly shook her head. “I do not understand what you mean by that.”
What was wrong with this elleth?! Perhaps her brains were addled. Clinging to his ire, he growled, “How can you not understand that? It is a very simple question! How many days ago did you find me? How many days have I been here?”
She sighed as if seeking patience. “The question perhaps might be very simple if I understood the meaning of one word you keep using.” She looked at him questioningly. “What is a day?”
Chapter 2“How can you not know what a day is?” Haldir demanded, his annoyance reaching new heights in spite of his weariness.
Sighing in exasperation, the elleth shook her head, pursing her lips. “I am sorry that I do not understand some of these words you use. Perhaps your clan has different names for things than do we. I have seen this before when we have met clans which were long separated from ours.”
Haldir’s head ached fiercely. Gritting his teeth, he raised his head as much as he could given his current physical condition, and explained very slowly as if speaking to a small child. “A day is the time which passes measured from when Anor rises in the east to when it rises in the east again.”
“Ahhh, I understand now,” she replied clearly relieved. “So, which star do you call Anor?”
Haldir let his head drop back onto his pillow and closed his eyes trying very hard to rein in his anger and frustration at this obviously unintelligent elleth whose lovely appearance and ability as a healer appeared to be her only redeeming qualities if this conversation were anything upon which to judge her.
“No star is called Anor!” He exclaimed
“Very well…” she drew out the words in her reply, her tone of voice betraying her obviously similar assessment of Haldir’s intellect. “So what is an anor?”
Taking a deep breath and slowly letting it out again, Haldir opened his eyes and grumbled, “Anor is that big yellow light in the sky which is so bright that the stars are obscured.”
“Hmmm…I cannot think of any stars which cast so much light that they obscure other stars and certainly not any yellow stars which are so bright.”
“ANOR IS NOT A STAR!”
“Is anor a cloud or perhaps the flash of light which accompanies a storm?”
“NO! Are you insane? Have you completely taken leave of your senses?”
She raised her hands in an open helpless gesture, but then her face lit up and she moved her hands to his head, making a very thorough examination. “Perhaps you have a head injury of which I was previously unaware? Do you feel any pain when I touch your head here? Or perhaps here?”
“Oh, my head certainly pains me,” Haldir responded snidely.
“So your delirium is to be explained by a head injury then. I just do not see the place where you received the blow. When my adar returns from the hunt, I will ask him to look at you. Perhaps he can determine where your injury lies so I may better judge how to treat you. Until then, I think it would be best if you rested.”
Haldir swore vilely under his breath as she placed her hands on his back once again.
“Now that was rude and most uncalled for,” she exclaimed angrily.
Suddenly she started singing again, putting such force behind the healing words that Haldir fell asleep immediately, completely against his will.
oOoOo
When Haldir woke again, it was to the sound of rain. Comforted by the gentle patter, he opened his eyes and saw the lilting dance of droplets on leaves. It was night time and he was home!
Delighted, he snuggled further into the furs on which he slept, reaching out with his fëa to his beloved trees of home.
Something was very wrong. The trees recognized his kind, but not him. He had dwelt among them for five thousand years. How could they not know him?
He raised his head and looked around more carefully from where he lay on his stomach on the talan floor. From what he could see, the shape of the talan was correct. The sounds of the rain were correct. He rested his head on the pillow again as he reached out with his fëa once more, then recoiled in shock.
Somehow the feel of, well of everything was wrong!
There was no sense of the Lady Galadriel’s power here, yet the air and the trees about him were filled with vibrant life. He cast about in his memory for something to compare it to. The wood did not feel like it did when King Amroth or even King Amdir ruled Lothlórien. Yet everything felt young and fresh. How could this be?
With some effort, he rolled over onto his back, then closed his eyes gasping at the newly awakened pain between his shoulders. Once he caught his breath, he opened his eyes and looked about again from this new perspective.
Someone had changed the ceiling. He liked the ceilings of the telain in Caras Galadhon. Why would someone want to use a ceiling like this one?
After Noldorin refugees from Eregion joined with people of Lórien, they replaced the roofing used on telain with a more efficient design, shielding against the elements yet allowing for light and airflow. This ceiling which stared back at him now appeared to be a crude imitation of the oldest style he had ever seen.
There were no walls, just portable wind screens for privacy and for blocking the wind. There was nothing unusual about this. Only in Caras Galadhon did the Galadhrim build permanent walls on telain.
He noticed near the bole of the tree neat stacks of furs, plates, bowls, cups, pitchers, bows, quivers of arrows, some larger items wrapped in cloth, and four wooden chests like one might keep clothing in. Despite the lack of tables and chairs and even framed beds, everything about him was utilitarian. The opening to the ladder down to the ground must be on the other side of the bole from him for he did not see it.
So maybe this was not a settlement in Lórien with which he was familiar, but at least the people had the sense to love and respect the trees and dwell closely among them. This thought comforted him greatly, though he did not know why.
Raising his left arm as much as he could bear, he examined the bandage and flexed his fingers. Moving them did not hurt much though he could not yet straighten his arm without pain. At least he was healing. His back still hurt though.
Carefully rolling onto his right side, the pain in his back eased up. Haldir lay there for a time watching the rain drip on the leaves. Just as he started to doze off, he heard many voices approaching the tree from below. There was naught he could do but lie there, so he waited patiently as many voices drifted away and others grew louder. He heard the creaking of ropes as what he guessed were five people climbed up the ladder and entered his talan.
His guess proved correct as the elleth he remembered from before appeared, accompanied by three ellyn and another elleth – all with the silver hair and blue eyes of the Galadhrim.
“Greetings, friend Haldir,” one of the ellyn called as he bowed deeply along with the other two ellyn, then knelt beside Haldir. “I am Damrod Saelonion. Gilwen who has been tending you is my daughter. This is my adar Saelon. He is the chieftain of our settlement. This,” he gestured to the tallest of the three, “is my son Brethil.” Damrod briefly clasped hands with the other elleth, exchanging a loving glance with her. “And this is my wife Gwilwileth.”
Haldir inclined his head as best he could from where he lay. “Greetings,” he replied. “And thank you for your hospitality and for your aide.”
“You are most welcome. It is an honor to show hospitality to a friend or kinsman in need. Gilwen said you are of the Galadhrim as well and from a settlement called…Lothlórien?” Damrod said looking at Gilwen who nodded her approval.
“Yes,” Haldir answered, a feeling of concern creeping up his spine.
“Where is Lothlórien?” Saelon the chieftain asked.
“You…you are serious? You truly do not know?” Haldir was mortified.
The five Galadhrim shook their heads at him, their expressions blank.
The feeling of concern constricted Haldir’s chest. Choosing his words carefully, he answered, “Lothlórien lies on either side of the River Celebrant, extending eastward to the Anduin and westward almost to the foot of the Hithaeglir.”
“Ah, yes! We left those lands some time ago. It is good to hear that more of our kin have come to join us here,” Saelon replied joyfully. Grasping Haldir’s shoulder much as a comrade or an equal, he continued.
“I was bid to tell you that Angaril, Ferevellon, Fereveldir, Rumil, and Orophin are recovering well from their injuries, though none are yet able to move about easily enough to visit with you. They all awoke in the last while and I had the opportunity to speak to each of them briefly.”
Haldir sighed heavily, offering a silent but deeply heartfelt prayer of gratitude to the Belain at the news that his brothers were with him and safe. He was equally relieved at the news of the survival of the twin sons of his lieutenant Thrandronen who had kept the watch in Lórien for him while he led troops in battle to Helm’s Deep. Angaril was a close friend of Haldir and his brothers and a highly skilled blacksmith when the need for warriors was not dire. His survival was a great blessing to Lórien and a great comfort to Haldir.
Saelon paused, smiling at Haldir’s reaction to the news.
“Your brothers – I can clearly see the family resemblance – and the other three all send their greetings and their relief at hearing that their…their captain is well. Are you their chieftain or perhaps a lord? Is that what captain means?”
Haldir stared at Saelon in surprise turning to angry dismay. Surely he was not having this conversation! Had these folk no respect for the injured? He had nearly died and yet they were jesting with him when he needed facts and…and answers and to heal and news of the battle and…And most of all he just wanted to go home!
Saelon withdrew his hand, sitting back, his expression guarded and serious. “I have offended you. Please forgive me. Long have we been isolated from those of our folk who stayed behind in the trees by the Anduin. Little news travels to us here. Those families tending your comrades in their homes also have encountered words we did not recognize. I ask your patience, friend – Captain Haldir, as we strive to discover and overcome the differences which seek to obscure our similarities. And please, so that I may better understand and accord you the proper respect due your station, tell me what Captain is.”
The apology of this obviously backward ellon seemed sincere enough that Haldir let go of some of his ire as he explained. “Captain is the highest rank accorded one who leads warriors into battle. The position is earned and is bestowed by one’s lord. It is a position of authority and respect and great responsibility.”
The group of elves looked at each other hesitantly curious, then Saelon ventured meekly, “Warriors?”
Haldir sighed wearily giving as simple of an explanation as he could. “People who are specially trained in fighting. Their job is to protect and defend their homes at all times under orders from their lord.”
“Ahhhh! Now I understand! Yes, yes I could see where a settlement might have need of –” Saelon paused obviously straining to recall the proper word, “warriors. That is grave news indeed that the lands we left are now so unsafe that ellyn who fight and defend all the time are needed there. Here all of our ellyn and ellith defend our settlement at need. We are all skilled with the bow. It was dangerous where we lived before so we crossed the mountains and came here as you did. There is still some danger here as well, but not as much as we encountered before.”
Regarding the ellon shrewdly, Haldir noted no deceit or malice in Saelon’s eyes. Yet how could anyone have so much difficulty with such simple words? And to which mountains was he referring? The Misty Mountains? To his knowledge there were no Galadhrim living across the mountains outside of Imladris, Mirkwood, and Lórien. Exactly where had these people taken him? And how? And why?
“Tell me, Captain Haldir,” now it was Saelon’s turn to regard shrewdly. “Why did you leave Lothlórien? Was it ruined by creatures of the greater darkness? Did all of the folk of your settlement decide to make the journey across the mountains and you were the only survivors? What happened to your people?”
“What?!” Haldir replied irritated and not a little offended. “I told you, well I told her,” he gestured to Gilwen. “I led two hundred warriors from Lothlórien into battle at Helm’s Deep. Lothlórien is fine and my people are safe. We marched to lend aid to others who were in need. I have no idea how I came to be here nor where the rest of my ellyn are. But I demand –”
“Captain!” Damrod interrupted, holding up a stern hand, silencing Haldir. “You are in no position to demand anything. You are a guest in my home. Now, I see no deceit in your eyes nor in your heart, but I do not believe all that you have said. You were not provisioned for a journey of as many turns of the stars as it takes to travel from Anduin to here. There is little to no news which ever travels between our kindred there and here. The way is long and arduous and fraught with peril which is why so many of our folk stayed behind beside the Anduin as you should well know.”
Chagrined, Haldir bit back retorts welling up within him. “I swear I have told you the truth about myself. I apologize for my anger and impatience. I am very frustrated and in pain. Perhaps I will understand you better if you tell me at least where I am now.”
Saelon nodded courteously in acknowledgement of the apology and replied. “You are many leagues from the Anduin across the mountains in Celos Galen.”
“I have never heard of Celos Galen. What country or land is it in?” Haldir asked wearily.
The group looked at each other warily other in great concern and alarm as Saelon the chieftain calmly replied, “Why it is in Beleriand of course.”
Chapter 3“Beleriand,” Haldir echoed back to the chieftain of the settlement.
“Beleriand?” Haldir asked again after a few moments pause for he had obviously misheard the ellon.
“Beleriand,” Saelon repeated matter-of-factly and the other four elves with him nodded in sage affirmation.
Haldir closed his eyes. Sweet
Eru, he screamed in his mind. Why do
these folk torment me so? Have they no care for the weariness and injuries of
others? Why do they pretend to not
to know such simple things and yet taunt me with the name of a place long gone,
sunken beneath the sea?
Then another possibility occurred to him.
Gently probing his scalp with his fingers, Haldir worriedly asked “Is this a test of my memory? Did I have a head injury and you are just making certain that I can remember my past?”
“Gilwen and I both examined your head for possible injury and found nothing untoward,” Damrod replied, concern etched deep in his brow.
Haldir slid his left hand over his face, weariness sapping his strength as he struggled to make sense of what he was hearing.
A hand glided down Haldir’s arm pulling his hand away from his face. He looked over to see Gilwen gently straightening his injured arm and taking his hand in hers.
“Haldir, I apologize for our upsetting you so,” she said. “I know not what we have said that troubles you so much, but please know that you are safe here and we will continue to care for you and your brothers and companions. You obviously need more rest. I will fetch you some food and water.”
She gave his hand a slight squeeze, then releasing it, arose and walked away. He followed her with his eyes until Saelon spoke and Haldir was forced to lock gazes with the chieftain once again as courtesy dictated.
“Haldir, our conversations with your brothers and friends went similarly to this discussion with you. They used strange words and shared in your odd difficulties in understanding some of what we said. Considering you all experienced such grave wounds, we are forced to wonder if, and indeed strongly suspect, that you were poisoned by your attackers. You must be very very strong ellyn to have survived this for most whom we have encountered who received poisoned wounds soon died after great pain and struggle.” Saelon looked at those around him and they nodded in agreement with him.
Laying a compassionate hand on Haldir’s shoulder, Damrod spoke reassuringly, “Friend Haldir, you are welcome to stay in my home until such a time as you are able to rejoin your kin. My family will continue to tend to your needs while you regain your strength. We will take our leave of you now. Please rest. We will speak again.”
“Thank you,” Haldir replied simply, unsure of what else to say.
Damrod gestured to his wife and son and together they rose along with Saelon and walked to the other side of the talan.
“Granddaughter,” Haldir heard Saelon address Gilwen. “Watch over him carefully. The poison obviously has affected his mind. I do not know when he will fully recover his wits – if he ever will. Be patient with him and his questions and tell me all that he says. When the ellyn depart on the hunt again, I will ask them to consult with those of the next settlement. Perhaps they will know how to help these hapless ellyn.”
“Yes, daeradar,” she replied.
Haldir heard the sounds of food preparation and beverages being poured as he lay there alone. He had been poisoned?! He softly swore aloud to himself. Poisoned! If this were so and the others suffered similarly, then…then what fate met his other warriors in the battle? So many were injured. He had seen so many fall…
Dear Eru, what if he and his brothers were the only elves who were left? Out of two hundred, what if only six had survived?
He squeezed his eyes shut trying to banish the sting of tears, which still somehow escaped. Covering his face with his hands, he rolled toward the bole of the tree, feeling he somehow deserved the intense physical pain such a simple action brought. Silently he wept for the loss of so many friends and comrades, the gentle patter of the rain no longer bringing him comfort.
oOoOo
Sometime later, he became aware of someone stroking his hair. Carefully, he rolled over onto his back and then onto his uninjured side with the help of Gilwen’s strong hands. Tenderly, she wiped his face with a cool damp cloth. He vaguely registered the presence of her adar nearby watching him intently, but he could not find it within himself to care. Unable to find his voice amidst the tears still falling unabashedly, he accepted the drink she offered him and ate some broth and bread with her assistance.
After the meal, Gilwen and her adar bathed Haldir and helped him see to his needs, then laid him back down again on the furs to rest. Softly speaking his gratitude, Haldir closed his eyes, but his helpers did not leave him.
With a long-suffering sigh, he opened his eyes and met their concerned ones.
“Haldir,” Damrod asked quietly, “for whom or what do you mourn, my friend?”
“For the ellyn under my command who did not return with me,” he replied dejectedly as his tears resumed. Briefly he tried to roll away, but he lacked the strength to manage the pain of so much movement, so he returned to the comfort of lying on his right side.
“It is best to go ahead and face it,” Damrod advised, his voice full of compassion. “Was there aught you could have done for any of those who are no longer with you?”
“I could have done no more for them than I did,” Haldir whispered. “I taught them all that I knew, trained them for many ennin in fact. I would have trusted any one of them with my life. We were so vastly out-numbered and there just…I just…I tried…I fought and I tried…But there was naught I could do. The enemy just kept coming and coming. They breached our defenses. So many of my warriors fell... I saw so many of them fall…And the enemy just kept coming…” Haldir’s voice broke and he wept anew.
Damrod gently gripped Haldir’s shoulder, mindful of his injuries. “I admire you, Captain Haldir, for the obvious love you bear for those whose lives were trusted in your care. I have spoken with the other survivors often during their wakeful times – they have had many more of those than you have so far – and they all told of their respect and admiration for you their captain. I will ask my adar and chieftain to command the songs of mourning for your folk, for are we not all Galadhrim? Does that not make those who were lost our folk as well? You and your comrades are in no condition to sing the songs just now. We will see that your comrades are honored and mourned properly for their great deeds.”
Haldir looked on Damrod, new respect for the frustrating ellon welling in his heart. Struggling as best he could, the captain painfully contorted himself enough to give a proper salute in deepest gratitude. Damrod stared at him bemused then copied the movements as if he had never seen them before, returning a much more fluid and graceful salute to the wounded Haldir.
“Thank you,” Haldir choked.
Damrod nodded, giving a small smile in response, then arose and departed the talan.
A short time later, with the night dark sky still weeping in accompaniment, many voices rose up in song. Age-old laments echoed and dripped from all around. Lilting along with the rest of the Galadhrim of Celos Galen, Gilwen laid down beside Haldir and held him as he mourned voicelessly. He wept, shuddering and trembling many times in her arms before finding his solace and sleep, his head resting on her breast.
Chapter 4“They told us our wounds were poisoned as well,” Rumil replied as he repositioned himself yet again, still favoring his right leg and bandaged right arm.
Haldir looked around as his other brother and comrades nodded in agreement.
“Captain,” Angaril added, “I have been poisoned by orcs six times before, and never did I or anyone else I know suffer as we have now. Why is this time different? Is the poison different? Or is it that our wounds were far more grievous than any others we have received before?”
Shaking his head, Haldir shrugged carefully. “You know as much as I do about this.”
“Did they speak of Beleriand to any of you?” Angaril asked gently rubbing his bandaged head in frustration.
“Careful or you will tear that wound open again,” Ferevellon warned, swatting Angaril’s hand away. “I am surprised they let you come up here after you fell and tore it up so badly the other day or night or…recently.” He paused a moment, his face twisted in confusion. “Have any of you noticed that it is never day when you wake up? I mean…well…yes, I mean it is never day time. I have not seen Anor since I awoke here. Have I completely missed the daylight every single day? I am so baffled by this. I even tried to stay up as long as I could and managed to be awake for three meals in a row without falling asleep and yet...”
“I am so relieved to hear you say that,” Orophin sighed. “I thought I had my days and nights confused and kept sleeping during the day and remaining awake all night.”
The others echoed Orophin’s sentiments then paused looking at each other in confusion.
“The stars turn in the sky and I have seen the same stars pass and return and yet…” Rumil said.”And, yes, to answer your question, Angaril, they did speak of Beleriand as if it were still here and not under the waves. In fact, every member of my…my host family checked me for a head injury when I told them that Beleriand had been destroyed, sunken beneath the waves by the Powers from Valinor when Morgoth was defeated in the War of Wrath.” Looking thoughtful a moment, Rumil added, “Oddly enough, they…even their chieftain had never heard of Morgoth nor the War of Wrath nor did they know what war was and they looked scared when I spoke of the Belain. What is going on here?”
After each in turn related similar experiences, they sat long in silence, troubled looks marring their faces. Suddenly Orophin spoke startling all of them.
“Haldir, do you remember hearing Lord Celeborn tell our daeradar and daeradar’s daeradar about the first warriors whom he had met?”
Haldir stared blankly at his brother.
“Oh, of course you do, Haldir! It was when you had – ” Orophin stopped abruptly, his face flushing in embarrassment. “Oh, I guess you would not remember for Lord Celeborn said it just after you marched away on your first patrol.” Clearing his throat unnecessarily, Orophin continued for his now amused expectant audience.
“Lord Celeborn told us about courageous and mighty warriors he knew in the early times of Doriath in the Night before nights. They carried great long bows unlike any weapon ever before seen in Doriath and bore deadly swords. They came from a settlement called Celos Galen. Lord Celeborn also said that by the time Denethor Lenwion reached Doriath, Celos Galen was no more and no other settlement had borne the name of Celos Galen since.”
Crossing his arms gingerly (yet convincingly) and fixing his brother with his best annoyed captain stare, Haldir asked, “Exactly what are you suggesting, Orophin?”
Orophin chewed his lip for a moment, then met his brother’s steady gaze. “I think I am suggesting that we should not be in Celos Galen because no place by that name has existed since before Beleriand sank beneath the waves. Think about it, Haldir. You have travelled all over Middle-earth by the command of the Lord and Lady for the gathering of news – even as far away as Mordor when we fought with the Last Alliance. We have met elves from every major settlement in Middle-earth many times. Do you not think that at least once we would have heard tell of a settlement by the name of Celos Galen, especially if it were populated by Galadhrim and had contact with numerous other settlements of Galadhrim, however small those settlements may be? And, more importantly, do you not think that they would have heard of Lothlórien? In fact, when I asked, these folk here had never even heard of Lórien across the sea either!”
Haldir glared at his brother for a time then looked away, uncrossing his arms and reaching for the cup of water before him. Draining the cup, he held it loosely in his long slender fingers, then turned to stare out into the ever-present night. A gentle rain began to fall, the soft patter bringing something else to mind.
“Do any of you remember the storm at Helm’s Deep?” Haldir asked after a time, his voice taking an almost wistful tone. “The sky had been so very full of stars and suddenly a storm came up as if Sauron himself had conjured it to hinder us in battle. Many of those around me, including those who had fought for five or six thousand years, even said as much – that Sauron had conjured the storm like he had so many times at the beginning of battles during the Last Alliance.”
“My adar and five of his edair before him told us tales of the storms of Sauron making strange things happen during the battles in Mordor,” Fereveldir whispered darkly. “Of a sudden, orcs or goblins would appear where none had stood before or elves would see things that were not real as if in a fog or men would suddenly sink into stinking marshes where before they had stood on solid ground. And all of it would happen at a sudden stroke of lightning. I remember the edair said they came to fear the storms more then they dreaded any fell stroke in battle. They also said that one such storm sprang up during the fateful charge that caused the deaths of King Amdir and King Oropher. King Gil-Galad blamed the kings for their deaths for their refusal to listen to him, but our kings’ warriors blamed the storm.”
Haldir’s brothers and Angaril shuddered, obviously wrestling with memories of terrible things, but Haldir closed his eyes shaking his head to clear it. Casting his hard gaze on those around him, they all snapped to. “I saw the Ring the hobbit carried. I felt its evil presence, yet I would have thought that even with the Ring found, it still should have been too far away for Sauron to have conjured that storm. But Saruman…The Lady did warn me that Saurman has turned to the darkness and lusts after the Ring himself. He bred orcs with goblin men, creating an enemy which is pretty damn difficult to kill. What other power does a wizard such as he command? Do any of us know? Was Sauron himself not a maia once?”
Gingerly fingering the bandage over his head wound, Angaril stated, his voice strikingly calm for one proposing such impossible things as truth, “I do not believe that we were poisoned. Our memories are too vivid and too sharply clear. I think that these kind simple folk who have nurtured and cared for us are missing so many of our words because they simply have never seen warriors or war or the things for making war or the need for such has not yet occurred – for them. I think that we ourselves have not seen Anor because it is not yet here for us to see. My friends, if I have heard aright all that has been said, I believe we really are in Beleriand before the rising of Anor and Ithil. And given the circumstances of our arrival, I know of no way for us to ever go home.”
Chapter 5The likelihood that they were indeed trapped in the distant past hung like a shroud over each of the hapless survivors of the Battle of Helm’s Deep. Each time they fell asleep, it was with the hope that they would awaken to a bright sunny day in Lórien. However, that desperately desired morning never came. Though their physical strength returned in time, Haldir and his brothers and friends struggled to find healing for their fëar.
After each meal, Gilwen accompanied Haldir on a walk through the settlement. Sometimes she led him along the rope bridges suspended between trees which joined the different telain while other times she introduced him to different parts of the forest nearby. However, the constant darkness wore at him. At the midpoint between each meal, she would lead him to a place where he and his warriors could meet and talk amongst themselves, but even this only seemed to remind them of what they had lost.
At one such meeting, the chieftain and the host families joined them rather unexpectedly.
“My friends,” Chieftain Saelon greeted the small group with the salute he had learned from Haldir as the host families assimilated themselves amongst Haldir and his warriors. “I have been watching you for many turns of the stars. It heals my heart to see each of you grow in health. Every ellon added unto the settlement makes our people that much stronger.” He smiled his pride at the group gathered there.
Haldir and his retinue carefully returned wary smiles in response. The chieftain never met with them as a group – usually preferring to meet with them individually among meals with their host families.
“We have been watching you in your recovery and I have spoken with each of you and your host families many times now. It has not escaped our notice that the color which had come to your faces begins to fade. The daughters who watch over you in your sleep say your dreams remain troubled. They say that you awake in sorrow no matter how peaceful your rest. They also say that no matter what wonders they show you or how fondly the trees look upon you, you still yearn for what you have left behind.”
Haldir heard his fellows’ guilty sighs as they each looked away at the chieftain’s words. Anger ever so briefly flared, threatening his own composure at the chieftain’s admission that their every move was watched – even their sleep! However, even he could not meet the chieftain’s eyes, for despair at being stranded so long and far from home ate away at him as well. Alas for fair Lórien which he loved!
Gilwen, who had seated herself on the ground beside him, quietly took his hand into hers and gave it a reassuring squeeze. He squeezed her hand briefly in return, but did not entirely disengage his fingers from hers, finding her presence oddly comforting.
“It is clear to me that you need some purpose, something for which to strive in our community,” Saelon continued, the tone of his voice drawing the eyes of all present to his face. “A time of hunting draws nigh for your host families. I invite each of you to join the ellyn of your families in their turn at the hunt. I deem you are ellyn of great spirit and I believe that the thrill of the chase may be what you need to draw your breath more deeply.”
The thought of going hunting did not inspire Haldir and, if he correctly interpreted the unenthusiastic glares of his slump-shouldered comrades, they remained uninspired as well.
“Besides,” the chieftain added with a glint of challenge in his soft yet steely gaze, “We have never met warriors before we met you and we would know if spending ennin in training to protect others really does make an ellon a better hunter.”
Almost as one, the warriors met Haldir’s eyes. Pride may have been a bane of the Noldor, but it was one shared by the Galadhrim as well. Drawing themselves up a bit straighter, Haldir received their barely perceptible nods then regarded the chieftain again, silently cursing his own pride and the conniving ellon’s wisdom as he spoke. “If you would allow us some time for target practice to regain our bow arms, then we will certainly join you in the hunt.”
oOoOo
Haldir cursed and swore as he moved through the dense foliage, snagging his hair on yet another branch. When had he become so clumsy among the trees? It was bad enough that the practice sessions had proven just how weak he and his comrades-in-arms had grown from idleness. Their wounds had been quite severe, but still they all unerringly should have hit the center of the mark on the target every time – especially considering how small the bows were that these Galadhrim had given them to use. These bows had none of the power or force of the bows to which Haldir’s warriors were used. The sword play had been disgraceful as well with each of them barely able to swing their weapon with any level of finesse or proficiency. He did not even want to think about how badly they had done with the spear throwing.
Captain Haldir never would have tolerated such sloppiness from any ellon under his command in Lórien – and yet here they were, supposedly Lórien’s finest, but performing as mere shadows of their former selves. Angaril even suggested (only half in jest) that they all commit suicide to keep themselves from having to die of disgrace on the hunt.
Even wearing warrior braids earned them criticism.
“Why not wear your hair pulled back away from your face and bound in a single braid like the rest of us?” Gilwen’s brother Brethil had asked during the fifth practice session. “It is far more efficient than...” he cautiously examined one of the braids which held Haldir’s hair away from his eyes. “It is more efficient than this…this ornamentation. Perhaps putting more time into practicing with the bow and spear and less into fastening your hair would make you better fighters.”
“We earned these braids in combat!” Ferevellon growled. “They are a sign of accomplishment.”
“Is that so?” one of the ellyn had asked mockingly. “A sign of how poorly you can defend yourselves more like it!”
“Perhaps their clan uses the braids to identify the ellyn who the ellith should avoid if they desire mighty sons,” one of the daernaneth with many generations of children had observed.
“For what it is worth, I like the braids,” Gilwen told Haldir after that particularly disastrous practice session. “They do a better job of keeping stray hair away from the eyes than a single braid down the back.”
Carefully, she helped him wash the still tender scar on his back then proceeded to apply a salve to the spectacular new bruises blossoming across his torso and forehead.
When she finished tending him, she sat on the floor across from him, taking his hands in hers. “Haldir, please forgive my people for what they say. You still are very much strangers to us. Who can say how long it will take you to completely heal or if you ever will fully regain what you once had? My people seem to have forgotten that you have endured and overcome so much by simply surviving your injuries let alone the poison.”
When he did not move or respond, she slid closer, drawing Haldir into a comforting embrace. “You and your brothers and friends have my admiration and that of the other ellith who have tended you all since your arrival here. We at least are willing to give you all of the time you need to heal and adjust to living in a strange new place.”
Haldir silently rested his head on her shoulder, too ashamed to even reply.
oOoOo
In all ways, the ellyn of Celos Galen were suitably unimpressed and quite frankly, Haldir could not blame them. To add to the humiliation, he had overheard the edair of their host families talking about how wasteful it was for ellyn to train solely as protectors when gatherers and craftsmen were better with simple bows and spears.
Even worse was when one of the ellith commented to her friends that they must have needed to train all the time because they ‘had such terrible aim that they would have starved as hunters. Lórien was probably glad to be rid of such burdens to the village even if they were handsome ellyn.’
The Lórien ellyn worked themselves as never before trying to regain their skills, but there simply had not been enough time before the hunt. Now they were struggling clumsily with weakened muscles and straining bodies just to keep up with the other ellyn who moved like wraiths through the dark trees and underbrush.
Even after three turns of the stars, Haldir and his warriors had nothing to show for their struggles while the other ellyn carried enough meat to feed the village for a good while.
“I do not hold you ellyn at fault,” Damrod reassured them as they picked their way through some underbrush. They were trailing far behind the other hunters. “Travelling through the trees and using the bow and spear requires great physical strength and prowess. And those ridiculous swords you carry? They are too long and cumbersome for moving with stealth and speed. It may be that in Lórien the need for folk of your… ah…skills… is… well… different from the needs of our village, however…” He paused a moment shaking his head in obvious disappointment. “I will speak with some of the craftsmen upon your return and see if we can find tasks more suited to your abilities. It may well be that the hunt is not for you.”
The six ellyn of Lórien scowled, their faces flushed with shame at these sentiments which they had heard often enough put far less diplomatically throughout the hunt. The snickers from the others on the hunt who overheard this latest comment did not help matters either.
“No matter how politely put, he is saying we are pretty damn useless,” Fereveldir muttered in Sindarin so the ellyn of Celos Galen would not understand.
“It is not fair that they judge us thusly,” Ferevellon added, glaring mutinously at the adar of his host family making his way ahead of them.
“Silence,” Haldir quietly commanded. “I agree it is not fair, but how should they judge us when they have seen naught but this hunt? Now stop complaining for it makes us appear even weaker than we already seem.”
Switching to the language of the Galadhrim, Haldir wearily conceded for all to hear, “I readily admit that we clearly are not at our best right now. I think that our injuries and the poisoning affected us more deeply than we realized. However, it is our hope that you will...”
Haldir stopped suddenly, his hand instinctively going for his sword. A glance to either side told him that his suddenly still Lórien comrades had sensed it, too: a brush against the fëa of something evil even such as they had felt countless times while patrolling the borders near Moria.
They were not alone.
Damrod patiently made a show of stopping though the other ellyn continued on, shaking their heads in disapproval and some laughing at the silently drawn swords and wary stances Haldir and his men had assumed.
“Haldir,” Damrod called in mild exasperation. “What…”
“Hsst!” Haldir warned quietly. “Up in the trees…”
Damrod looked around perplexed. “I see nothing. What are you so....”
But Haldir sternly waved a cautioning hand, hissing. “Be silent! They pass over our heads even now.”
The trees cried out as black shapes moved swift as shadows through the branches. Familiar chills ran down Haldir’s spine while he watched.
As soon as the creatures moved away, Rumil murmured, “I counted ten of them.”
“Damn, they were big.” Orophin quietly exclaimed.
In worried wonder, Damrod whispered, “I never even heard them coming. What are they? How did you know?”
“It is our job to know,” Angaril replied as if that were explanation enough. “The scent of fresh blood must have drawn them.”
“But they ignored us…,” Ferevellon said gesturing to Damrod’s kill.
Nearby, screams rent the air.
“In favor of greater prey,” his twin finished nodding in the direction of the screaming hunters.
Leaving a stunned Damrod behind, Haldir and his warriors charged ahead, the lust of battle surging through them, giving them strength. Reflex took over as ennin of training and the experience of many battles took charge of their bodies. Under a thickness of trees, hideous black hairy creatures with many legs attacked the other hunters. Sharp pointed legs tore elven flesh while other monsters sucked blood from the dead animals. The hunters never had the chance to draw their bows and only the swiftest managed to raise a spear in hapless defense.
Swift and deadly, the march wardens engaged the giant spiders. Swords slashed as the wardens danced around the claws, hacking limbs and stabbing glowing eyes. The twins dove and each rolled under a spider, stabbing upward into the soft unprotected bellies before rolling away again, barely escaping the spray of black blood. In a short amount of time, the spiders all lay dead in crumpled heaps, while the other hunters, many of which were wounded, stared in amazement.
Chapter 6Newly bathed and dressed in fresh clothes, Haldir and his warriors assembled before the chieftain much the same way they had lined up for review before Lord Celeborn on the morning of their fateful departure for Helm’s Deep. A throng of villagers pressed closely, cheering from the moment that the warriors came down among them from the trees until Chieftain Saelon raised his arms, calling for silence.
Each warrior held his head high with shoulders squared and eyes glowing with fierce pride. Saelon paced before the six, looking each one up and down. Finally he stopped before Haldir and saluted him.
“I understand from Damrod that the hunt did not go as planned. He told me of your failure to bring home any meat. Yet, he also told me that the other ellyn in your party likely would not have returned at all if not for your skill and prowess at arms. He and every one of the other ellyn told the same tale of your courage and awareness of the wood around you and your might in defending the party from the giant spiders which attacked and would have slain our hunters.” The villagers applauded and cheered, but the chieftain called for silence.
“What is more, my friends from Lórien, you endured mockery for many turns of the stars and criticism from those who dismissed the idea of ‘warriors’. Yet you rose up and protected from harm those who disparaged you. That took another kind of courage as well, which I hold of greater worth. Beyond that, you proceeded to treat with profound skill the wounds inflicted by the spiders. You defeated this enemy and proved your great worth on many levels. As the chieftain of Celos Galen, I extend to you both my deepest gratitude and my sincerest admiration. I am most proud to count warriors such as yourselves among the ellyn of my village.”
Stepping forward, he embraced Haldir as he would a son, and then proceeded to embrace each of the other warriors in turn, while the crowd remained silent.
When the chieftain withdrew from the last one, he addressed the villagers. “Let us feast and show our gratitude to these new warriors of Celos Galen!”
While the crowd cheered, Saelon called the warriors together and quietly commanded, “Captain Haldir, I would like for you to choose from among our ellyn those who you think would make good warriors and begin training them in your ways of fighting. They must continue in their other duties to our folk as well, just as I would see you ellyn contribute in other ways to our settlement. However, I see the need for defenders such as yourselves and I would have more than six valiant sons of the Galadhrim to protect our folk in time of need.”
Haldir bowed before the chieftain, feeling as deeply honored as if Lord Celeborn himself had just praised him, and replied, “We would be honored to serve you in every way we can.” The other five bowed as well, following suit.
Saelon clapped Haldir on the shoulder, saying, “Thank you, my son.”
The captain only had time to nod in reply, his cheeks flushing with mild embarrassment and perhaps something else as Gilwen suddenly appeared, quietly slipping her hand into Haldir’s and whisking him away from the smiling chieftain and into the crowd.
oOoOo
Over the next several weeks, ellyn of the village came to Haldir and his warriors in groups of six for testing. Used to putting potential soldiers through the rigors necessary to seek out those who possessed the strengths and virtues necessary to become a good warrior, Haldir had little difficulty in setting up a testing ground. With so few villagers to choose from, Haldir was careful to see that everyone who wished it received at least some training while those who excelled were groomed for battle as the soldiers of Lórien had been.
Much to his surprise, all of the ellyn of the settlement showed promise as defenders and an unusually large number of those proved they had the makings of fine warriors. Once the potential warriors were chosen, Haldir set up regular practice sessions for all of them, building on what they knew and teaching what they were lacking. What these ellyn lacked in the awareness possessed by a soldier of Lórien, they made up for in strength, stamina, and determination.
When the ellyn of Lórien were not testing and training, they found themselves being tested and trained as well. Surprisingly though, they had much to teach in other disciplines as well.
“All of those ennin working side by side with the Noldor have to account for something,” Angaril had commented to his comrades as he took a break from forging swords and other tools using techniques the smiths of Celos Galen had never even dreamt of.
“Can you believe they actually accused me of being raised by dwarves?” He asked, thoroughly appalled.
“Well, the Noldor can be as annoying and obsessive as dwarves when they wish to be,” Ferevellon pointed out.
“Which is actually quite often come to think of it,” his twin added with a mockingly thoughtful look.
Angaril swatted him on the head, scowling. “Whatever their faults, the Noldor are amazingly skilled artisans and crafters and we owe them much.”
“Yes, we do owe them much. I am surprised myself at how much their influence has changed our ways and made them so different from those of the Galadhrim here,” Orophin observed. “All this time I used to take so much pride in how close we remained to the ways of our kin before us, yet I look around here and I just…” His voice trailed off with a sigh. “I see how far we truly have advanced.”
Several moments of thoughtful silence later, Rumil asked, “Haldir, is it wrong that we teach them what we know? Are we changing things?”
“What are you suggesting, Rumil?” Haldir quietly asked.
“Could…could we be influencing the future of the Galadhrim by imparting our knowledge to them such…such that it changes the time from which we come?”
“We have been teaching them much about the arts of warfare, the making of weapons, smithying, jewelry making,” Angaril added.
“Farming, pottery, the building of telain…” Ferevelldir further supplied.
“The chieftain already is planning to bring smiths and craftsmen from other villages here in two days…er turns of the stars…” he paused, looking embarrassed at the slip. “ to see our handiwork and share out techniques. What do we do?”
Haldir remained still for a time searching the land around, then scrutinizing the faces of each ellon before him before replying. “We should have thought of this before now. They already know what we can do and they already have learned much from us. I do not think that ceasing to share our knowledge now will be of any use. They cannot and will not unlearn what we have taught and shown them. If we stop now…” he shook his head, sorrow furrowing his brow. “If we stop now then lessons only half learned could in some cases be more detrimental than the damage done by sharing all that we know. And…this is very selfish…but if we stop now, then we could jeopardize our chances at having a life here.”
The others looked on their captain with sadness and regret in their eyes as he added, “Besides, according to what history we can remember, this village won’t last to see the rise of Anor and Ithil. There is a chance that we and the villagers might all be dead before our influence ever spreads beyond the confines of these few small settlements.”
“Well, that is for the future to decide,” Rumil said. “Whatever fate has in store for us, we can at least be thankful for the welcome we have received from the people of Celos Galen and the opportunity to build our lives anew. I suppose there are worse fates.”
To that none of them could disagree.
Adar – father
Anor – the sun
Ithil – the moon
Daeradar – grandfather
Edair – fathers
Daernaneth - grandmother
Ennin – a period of 144 years
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