Fallen 
Author: Minka 
minkagreenleaf@aol.com 
 
PG  - Angst 
 

*sits there sucking on a candy cane* ok, lets get this bitch of an 
idea outta my head! I am also obsessed with the fact that there were 
two Haldir's and two Legolas' in Tolkien's works! It is odd and yet 
really interesting!

Ok, this is for all those people who, like me, where pissed with the 
fact that they killed Haldir at Helm's Deep and were even further 
pissed that it did not show Legolas' reaction to such a tragedy.

It is a one off, one shot, non-slash interlude which I hope will make 
you feel sad all over again for the loss of Elven life.

*****

Fallen

The Two Towers Interlude

By Minka

*****

As the remains of Saruman's impressive army fled before the might of 
the recruits lead by Gandalf and Éomer, Aragorn turned worry filled 
eyes in the direction of Legolas.

The Mirkwood prince sat upon his horse, his brow knotted in worry as 
he watched the fleeing forms of the Uruk-hai and the wild men as they 
retreated into the dawning morning. The sword that he had taken to 
using throughout their last stand and battle to hold the keep was 
stained with the black blood of the fell creatures that lay sprawled 
about his horses feet, some dead, other's withering in pain as life 
ebbed slowly away from their bodies. Even though his head was held 
high and his shoulders square, Aragorn was not fooled like the others 
that surrounded them. He could see through the Elven display of 
perfect composure, see the nervous individual behind the mask of an 
emotionless, age long warrior and all that the aforementioned second 
sight provided Aragorn with was a deeper feeling of dread.

Just by looking at Legolas, Aragorn was able to see that he had not 
been informed of the greatest loss of the fight that had been played 
out during the cold night. As an Elf, Legolas was bound by will to 
feel for all that fell, to see what had transpired as a brutal way of 
settling something while having no respect for the beauty and 
meaningfulness of life and all that it had to offer. It was a curse to 
them - just as mortality was to the humans that walked the plains of 
Middle-Earth - that they should feel sympathy for even the loss of 
life of a dark creature, one long taken from, and no longer able to 
return to the light. Given this, it was easy to see that the sudden 
demise of an immortal was likely to destroy them.

At Gandalf's command, they all turned their horses and rode back to 
the bridge that led to the main gate. Legolas traveled beside Aragorn, 
and yet, all the way back to the keep, the human could not bring 
himself to tell the Elf of the real horror of that night.

Once inside, Legolas was off his horse and had disappeared into the 
thick of the crowd without even a word, and all before Aragorn had 
worked up the courage to confront him. Looking after the prince, 
Aragorn dismounted and handed his reins to a nearby warrior, who 
accepted them with a confused look, knowing that it was not his job to 
take care of the horses.

Rushing through the crowd, Aragorn searched for any sign of the Elf, 
and yet, each time he was sure he had found him, it turned out to be 
one of the few surviving archers of Lothlórien or a mere figment of 
his imagination.

Sighing in frustration, he turned on his heels and made his way back 
towards the keep, hoping that if he found Gimli there Legolas may be 
with him.

*****

Walking through the many darkened, stone passageways of the citadel, 
Aragorn soon found that finding either one of his friends was proving 
to be near impossible in the endless labyrinth of tunnels and 
chambers.

The soft glow of candle light hit filled the corridor he had just 
turned into more then any other had been lit, suggesting a large 
amount of flickering flames within a room that stood with the door 
slightly ajar. Two figures stood on either side of the door, and, as 
Aragorn grew closer, he saw that they were fully armed, Elven guards 
from Lothlórien.

As he approached, the Elves bowed to him, giving Aragorn the feeling 
that he was expected which almost made his heart leap into his mouth. 
Nodding back, he gently and silently pushed open the door only to be 
hit by an overwhelming flood of flickering fire light and yet, despite 
the brightness, there was no heat and it felt as if the room itself 
was made of ice. Stepping around the door and pushing it closed behind 
him, he gasped at what he saw.

The room, one of the larger ones of the keep, was lined with candles, 
each tall and white and not one single one had extinguished itself. 
Even the floor was lined with the burning pillars, making a straight 
pathway through the room and towards a raised dais in the centre of 
the room. Standing at the top of the steps with his back to the door 
was Legolas, his hair shining like the sun in the light of the candles 
as it cascaded down his back. He stood as still and tall as a tree, 
his head bent as he stared at something out of Aragorn's sight.

Knowing that this was his chance and the best place to break such 
grievous news to his friend, Aragorn took a step forward only to 
become rather surprised when the Elf made no move to acknowledge him.

"Legolas," Aragorn said softly while continuing to walk up behind the 
unmoving Elf. Fighting down the want to turn and run, Aragorn closed 
his eyes for a moment, trying to work out the best way the share his 
ill news as he came up the stairs to stand beside his long time 
friend. "Legolas, there is something that I must tell y-" his words 
were abruptly cut short when he reached the Elf's side, opened his 
eyes and followed his line of vision.

There lay Haldir, his face pale and his hair dim as it rested about 
his shoulders, sprayed out like that of an angels glow. His eyes where 
open and staring, horror stricken, out into space and his lips parted 
slightly, showing the disbelief he must have felt when he was struck 
down. No longer did his skin faintly radiate light as was the way with 
the Elves, especially those of Lothlórien, and his eyes, though open, 
saw nothing, their light and magickal sway lost with the fleeting of 
the immortal soul. Though his clothes where splotched with blood, his 
face and visible skin had been cleaned and his blades washed and 
placed beside him. His bow lay upon his no longer rising chest and one 
pale, delicate hand had been wrapped around the dark, gold trimmed 
wood. Everything about him seemed peaceful, unwavering but for the 
terror in his eyes and the taut, thin drawn lips.

Briefly wondering how the Lothlórien guard had found his way to such a 
resting place, Aragorn recalled that not all the Elves where lost. A 
few remained, only a few as most had been destroyed with the crumbling 
of the wall, falling to death at the hands of the brutal Orcs that 
swarmed below.

Haldir had been their leader, their guide and their hope. Even to 
Aragorn, when Haldir arrived at the stairs of the citadel, it seemed 
as if they had been blessed, that somewhere a star shone upon them a 
little brighter, renewing their hope and whispering of things that 
could now come as they stood more of a chance.

"How?" Legolas asked, his voice riddled with restrained grief and 
severing the thread of Aragorn thoughts. After long moments pause in 
which Aragorn could do naught to put his feelings into words for the 
prince, Legolas once again spoke, his tone telling the truth of his 
age. "You knew of this, did you not?" not waiting for confirmation 
from the human that stood statue still by his side, he continued, this 
time a little firmer "then tell me how it happened!"

Swallowing the chunk that had rose in his throat; Aragorn dared a 
lightening quick look at the Elf who had long called him friend. 
Legolas looked as pale as the shell of what once was Haldir, his eyes 
dancing to a sad tune as they looked over the fallen Elf, taking all 
in and not having it register. He seemed drawn and haggard, as if he 
had been fighting his entire life with no pause and the soft dint in 
his left cheek showed that he gently chewed upon the skin in his 
confusion.

"I was giving the order to fall back," Aragorn started, trying to keep 
his voice clear and jolt free for the sake of the prince, wanting to 
lend him the strength that he needed. "He heard and became distracted 
as he carried it on - I could not reach him in time." Voice finally 
breaking from both the lost life and the distant appearance of 
Legolas, he trailed off his speech, knowing that Legolas would be 
satisfied with what he had offered.

"In the back." Legolas stated sadly as he gazed at the body of his 
friend. Haldir had taken a wound to the stomach, but it was the blow 
through his back that pierced his chest which had caused his fall and 
departure to the Halls of Mandos; the Elven Houses of the Dead.

Stretching out a shaking hand, Legolas gently lay it upon the pale, 
cool skin of the Elf's cheek, feeling the marble smoothness which 
would never again redden, no matter what the reason or cause. Tracing 
his curled knuckles over the flesh, his teeth sunk gently into his 
bottom lip, the inside of his cheek forgotten in his careful 
concentration of the study of death.

It was alien to him, death, for rare was it that his kind passed from 
the world and his dealing with the humans where limited to that of 
Aragorn and the late Boromir. The human's death had been an awakening 
to the prince, once so sheltered that he hardly acknowledged the fact 
that, just because he did not see it, a human died almost every day, 
some of age, some of sickness - the two things that would never stand 
to hinder him or his people.

Gandalf had been different, it had been quick and un-witnessed, and, 
as recent happenings had portrayed, it had not been final but more of 
a chance of a new beginning. Boromir he had seen die, had seen the 
colour drain from his face as the blood leaked from his body. He had 
stood as a witness to his last breath, his last word and his last look 
towards the sky above. It had been slow and unavoidable, the man's 
pain obvious and striking the Elf's own heart with a sense of grief 
that he had never before experienced.

Yet Haldir was the worst.

Here, surrounded by death, Legolas could almost see the dark robed 
figure as he came through each room, touching those that he sort to 
take, binding their spirits to his with a mere brush of his fingers. 
The thing that confused the Elf the most was that very concept, the 
fact that he could feel it as if it this conception of death were his 
own belief and not just that of the human's.

He had always thought that with an Elf it was different, that they 
would have to choice to go or stay just as they did in order to pass 
over the Sea, and yet, looking down on Haldir, his face silent in his 
gasp, he knew that it was not so, that life and death, though 
prolonged for the Elves, where the same whether you be of the 
immortals or the mortals.

Haldir had not chosen to leave; he had been taken, touched by the icy 
hand of a mortal's death that now lingered upon his skin, taking it to 
a temperature that even Legolas could feel.

Pulling his hair back over his shoulders, the prince of the Elves 
knelt down beside the small pallet of a bed, unheeding of Aragorn's 
quiet surveillance. He let his nimble fingers trail down the cloth 
covered arm, lightly rubbing the material together and storing the 
feel to memory. Like all Lothlórien archers, he wore no gauntlets of 
thick, harden leather like those of Mirkwood, but through the soft 
fabric under his fingers, Legolas could feel the thin band of light 
doeskin that wrapped around his wrists, protecting them from the 
backlash of the Elven-hair strings.

After that came the Elf's long, slender hands, pale and slightly 
scratched from his fight and fall. Running his own slender fingers 
over the small knuckles and down the length of the fingers to stop at 
the shortly trimmed and clean fingernails, Legolas sighed. "The hands 
of an archer, not a swordsman," he said with dismay and to which 
Aragorn merely nodded his head in agreement.

Shifting his gaze from the pale hands, Legolas once again looked up to 
the face of the lifeless Elf. Haldir looked young, like that of a 
human just into his manhood and yet even Legolas had no real clue as 
to how old his friend really was. Leaning over the face of the archer 
and guard of Lothlórien, Legolas tucked a stray lock of Haldir's 
sliver-white hair behind his pointed ear; hair that would never again 
blow freely in the wind and ears that would never again hear a sound. 
Allowing his fingers to continue their exploration of the Elf's cold 
face, Legolas was enthralled by the fact that nothing moved. Touches 
that would have normally caused one to flinch from the feather light, 
ticklish pressure provoked no reaction or falter in the still 
features.

Looking into Haldir's unseeing eyes, he once again spoke, this time 
causing Aragorn to jump as he was brought out of reverence of the 
sight before him. "They say you can see the image of the killer in the 
eyes of an Elf," Legolas said grimly, while shooting a look up to 
Aragorn, holding the man still with his intense blue gaze, "but how 
can that be so when felled in such a way?" he asked, begging Aragorn 
to provide him with the answers that no living being - immortal and 
mortal alike - possibly could. He wanted Aragorn to tell him that 
Haldir would be safe, that he would be happy where he was going and 
that he felt no grief in passing from this world and yet at the same 
time he knew that he would receive no answer, not even if he were to 
ask it of Gandalf.

Not knowing what else to do, Aragorn took a step forward and laid a 
hand on the Elf's shoulder which, a moment later became covered with 
one of Legolas' own. "Im sinome ni le, Legolas," Aragorn said, trying 
to pour as much comfort into his words as possible while giving the 
Elf's shoulder a light squeeze. [I am here for you, Legolas.]

"Hannon le, nin mellon," Legolas whispered, half to himself, half to 
the man that stood over him. Resting his head upon his hand on his 
shoulder, Legolas stayed crouched on the floor, eyes never straying 
from Haldir's still form. [Thank you, my friend.]

Neither knew how long they stayed like that, Legolas watching Haldir 
as if praying for him to suck in a breath of life and return and 
Aragorn's eyes drifting from his distraught friend to the body of the 
Lothlórien Elf, squeezing Legolas' shoulder whenever he felt the 
archer needed the support.

Finally, with a small sniff and his tongue darting out over his lips, 
Legolas took his hand from atop Aragorn's and gently leaned forward 
and out of the human's reach. Looking down on the Elf one last time, 
he became faintly aware of another presence enter the room, and from 
the breathing and ringing of the footsteps, knew that it was Gimli. 
Ignoring his dwarven friend for the time being, he drew in a deep 
breath and closed his eyes.

Once again running his hand over Haldir's cheek, he whispered softly, 
"Gwend na hae athon i gurth, nin mellon. Lothron lîn erúss cil a le 
hirsidh." Placing a chaste kiss upon the Lothlórien archer's brow, he 
trailed his hands over Haldir's eyes, closing them to save others from 
the horror that still filled the once sparkling orbs.

Gimli, who had stood silently by the door, watching in anguish, leant 
over to Aragorn, and, pulling the human down gently, asked, "what did 
he say?"

Never taking his eyes from Legolas, Aragorn lent his head down and 
whispered so not to disturb the Elf. "He told him that friendship is 
beyond even death and that he hopes that Haldir's journey will be 
swift and that he finds peace."

Lowering his eyes, Gimli said no more, letting the Elf's words repeat 
within his head and their true meaning surface and stay within his 
mind.

The room fell deadly silent, but it was not an eerie silence, more one 
of respect and love and to all three it seemed as if Legolas' last 
words rang around the halls. Within a moment, all the candles 
flickered, as if blown by a gust of wind even though there was no 
draft and just when they thought that the lights would go out and that 
they would be plunged into darkness, the flames righted their selves, 
once again standing tall. A peaceful calm ascended upon the room as 
the candles once again burnt brightly and to Legolas it seemed as if 
Haldir's unmoving face had slackened, as if at last his spirit had 
truly departed and that he was in peace.

Rising somewhat shakily to his feet, Legolas turned towards his two 
friends, tears playing at the corners of his eyes and giving them a 
twinkling effect as he let his gaze fall on Gimli.

It took the dwarf a moment to realize that he was now the focus of 
Legolas' attention, yet once he did, he looked up with a sad smile. 
Glancing from the Elf to the ranger, he could see the questioning in 
their eyes, residing side by side with their grief.

"Gandalf says we are riding to Isengard," he informed them quietly, 
not really wishing to break the strange atmosphere that had fallen 
upon the room after Legolas' blessing. "he wishes to leave on the 
morrow."

A slight sigh came from Legolas at the last words, obviously not 
entirely happy with them, and with a gentle smile, Aragorn walked up 
to him and once again placed a hand upon his shoulder. "You do not 
have to come," he said, while looking right into the sad eyes of his 
friend, "no one will think less of you for it, and you have a duty 
here now, as their prince." he said, referring to the few remaining 
Elves that still walked the halls and battlements of the fort.

Sighing for a second time, Legolas looked to Haldir once again. 
Turning his eyes back to Aragorn, he offered the human the best smile 
that he could. "Nay, I will accompany you," he told him while letting 
his gaze dart quickly to Gimli before meeting Aragon's once again. "I 
want the Ring destroyed. . .and the death to cease."

With that said, Legolas, the prince of the Elves, bowed his head and, 
without so much as a backwards glace at the body of the Lothlórien 
Elf, walked from the room.

*****

The End.

Oh, and I even have some candy cane left! I am happy!

I hope you all enjoyed that - in the way that you can enjoy sad 
things, that is. Please let me know what you think. Thank you.

And yes, there was a place where I used a strange mix of Sindarin and 
Quenya, but I needed the word, and Quenya had it, so don't be angry! 
Also, I think that Haldir did actually wear gauntlets, but it sounded 
better if he didn't and do excuse me if I got anything wrong - I have 
only seen the movie once, so bear with me and call it artistic 
license!

Minka.