The Battle of Helm's Deep

A snort broke their uneasy silence.  Then a thud, and Elrond of Rivendell hopped lightly off his great steed.
“Mae govannen,” said Haldir, standing up at once and bowing.  He brushed his grey cloak to the side and sat back down.
Elrond nodded briefly and turned to Lord Celeborn and Lady Galadriel, who were sitting adjacent to Haldir.  Haldir watched Elrond, who's face was filled with grief and pain.  He knew that Elrond was grieving over his daughter Arwen, who was journeying to Valinor with the rest of the Elves of Rivendell, never to return.  He remembered Celebrían, and felt for Elrond's losses.  His eyes followed Elrond, who strode over to the window watching the line of Elves leaving.
“I amar prestar aen, han mathon ne nen, han mathon ne chae a han noston ned 'wilith,” said Galadriel, cutting into the silence with in her low but soft voice.  “The power of the  enemy is growing.  Sauron will use his puppet, Saruman to destroy the people of Rohan.”  She turned to Elrond.  “Isengard has been unleashed,” she said heavily.  “The Eye of Sauron now turns to Gondor, the last free kingdom of Men.  His war on this country will come swiftly.  He senses the Ring is close.  The strength of the Ring-bearer is failing.  In his heart, Frodo begins to understand the quest will claim his life.”
Haldir glanced at Elrond, who looked up and sighed heavily.
“You know this,” said Galadriel clearly.  “You have foreseen it.  It is the risk we all took.”  As she spoke her eyes fell on Nenya, one of the Three Elven Rings, that she bore on her right middle finger.  “In the gathering dark, the will of the Ring grows strong,” she continued.  “It works hard now to find its way back into the hands of Men.  Men, who are so easily seduced by its power.  The young captain of Gondor has but to extend his hand, take the Ring for his own and the world will fall.  It is close now.  So close to achieving its goal.  For Sauron will have domination over all life on this Earth, even unto the ending of the world.”
Elrond turned around and Galadriel looked around at all of them.  “The time of the Elves is over.  Do we leave Middle-earth to its fate?  Do we let them stand alone?”
They all watched Elrond in silence as he walked over to a wall-painting and gazed at it.  It showed Isildur grasping the sword of Elendil with Sauron upon him.  His back stiffened and he turned around to face them.  “We must fight,” he declared firmly.  “We must go to their aid.”
Celeborn stood up.  “And how do you propose we do this?” he inquired of Elrond.  “Must we sent our people to their deaths and watch Sauron defeat us as well?”
“Send out the Galadhrim to fight alongside of the Men, my Lord,” Haldir put in.  “We are able enough and together we can hold back the forces of Isengard.  We have faced the same Evil and we have defeated it.”
“They are stronger now than they were in the past,” replied Galadriel.  “They have bred an entire army of Uruks all for the purpose of wiping out all of Rohan.  They are prepared this time and they are host of ten thousand.  We do not have that many.  Aragorn has caught a glimpse of the marching army on his journey to Helm's Deep alone.  He will warn Théoden, King of Rohan and together they will gather all the able-bodied men and boys alike to form a defence.  They will all perish; the Rohirrim are leagues away and there is no calling for help at this hour.”
“Then we must do what we can,” insisted Elrond.  “We must not leave Aragorn and the prince of Mirkwood to perish nor can we watch the people of Helm's Deep a brutal massacre.  We must also do this for Arwen.  Haldir is right; we can only send out the Galadhrim to do what they can.  We have no choice.”
“We have a choice,” said Celeborn smoothly.  “We can leave Middle-earth to its fate and we can leave to Valinor before it is too late.  We must save our own people.”
“And leave the Men?” questioned Haldir.  “How will we be able to leave contentedly and peacefully knowing that we have heartlessly and pitilessly abandoned the Men during their hour of need.  They are weak and we all know it.  They know it themselves.  They know that they cannot stand a chance against Isengard.  They will all perish alongside their King and Gondor’s King.”
Celeborn sat down.  “Send the Galadhrim to Helm’s Deep,” he said quietly.  “They must be fully clad in armour and carrying each a bow, a sword and a quiver full of strong arrows.  Ensure that they are all in working order.”
Elrond nodded at Haldir and they left.  Outside, they mounted their steeds and galloped straight for the Realm of Lórien.  When they got there, Haldir dismounted immediately and went straight to the task at hand.  He spoke to his two brothers, Rúmil and Orophin and ordered them to assist him in assembling the Galadhrim and preparing them for battle.  The Elven Smiths were hard at work, sharpening, stringing and making all of their weapons and making sure that too are prepared for battle.
By the end of that day, Haldir had marshaled their host, clad in armor, and had them lined up orderly for their march to Helm’s Deep.  Two of Galadriel’s banners were given to two of the Galadhrim to bear with them on their way to the site.
“We are ready,” said Haldir decisively as his ready army stood before Elrond.
“You will speak to Théoden King on my behalf,” said Elrond.  “Say to him:  ‘An alliance once existed between Elves and Men.  Long ago we fought and died together.  We come to honor that allegiance.  We are proud to fight alongside Men once more.’”
“I will bring this message,” Haldir agreed.  “We had best start moving.”
Elrond nodded and grasped Haldir’s shoulder.  “We will not fail,” he said smiling, but with sad eyes.
“We will succeed,” Haldir repeated in positive words.  “Farewell, my Lord.”  He bowed deeply and turned away, beginning their fast-paced walk to Helm’s Deep; they had naught but a day to arrive before the army of Isengard.  Rúmil and Orophin followed suit and they too bid Elrond farewell before following behind Haldir.
They marched in silence, and as night fell slowly the Fortress appeared before them.  “Helm Hammerhand,” announced Haldir.  “We have arrived.”  He looked up and saw the Men that Galadriel spoke of.  They were racing back and forth and Haldir could sense that they were all frightened and for the most part, they knew nothing of battle.
They marched to the gate and together he and his brothers extracted each an Elven war horn from their belts.  Haldir inhaled deeply then put the horn to his lips and blew hard.  Then Rúmil blew and then Orophin.  Several startled faces appeared at the edge of ledge above the gate.  Haldir heard a hushed voice say, “The Uruk-hai!  They are here!  We are ruined.”
“Alas, we are ill-fated…” said a Man.
Haldir raised an eyebrow and exchanged looks with his two brothers and signaled for them to blow again.  The three Elves blew the horns for the second time.   A pair of Rohan guards appeared at the top of the hedge and stared down upon them.  “Those are not Uruk-hai … send for the King,” muttered one of them to the other, who disappeared swiftly from Haldir’s view.  “Open up the gate!” roared the remaining guard to the gatekeepers.  “Open up the gate!” repeated another shrill voice far off.
The rusted gate groaned and creaked as it slowly lifted, revealing the late refugee of the people of Rohan.  The gate opened completely and the gatekeepers gaped at the Eldar Host as they followed Haldir into the fort.  They traveled up the stone path and through the lot of Men as they parted, making room for the arriving army to march.  Haldir arrived at a set of steps which led into the heart of Helm’s Deep.  As he made towards them, Théoden himself appeared at the top of the stone steps and gazed in disbelief at the army that stood before him.
“How is this possible?” he said, his voice nearly a whisper.
“I bring word from Elrond of Rivendell,” pronounced Haldir, never forgetting the words that Elrond had delegated him to speak.  “An alliance once existed between Elves and Men.  Long ago we fought and died together.”
There were footsteps and Haldir looked up to see a Man and a fellow Elf appear at the top of stairs with a familiar Dwarf at their heels, all of them sharing the same disbelief as Théoden.  “We come to honor that allegiance,” said Haldir, smiling slightly at Aragorn, Legolas and Gimli.
“Mae govannen Haldir!” said Aragorn, rushing up to Haldir.  Then he unexpectedly threw his arms around Haldir, embracing him tightly.  Haldir was taken aback, for he had never been embraced in all of his years of living.  He stood quite stunned for awhile before finally smiling and embraced Aragorn in return.  “You are most welcome,” said Aragorn sincerely when they finally broke apart.  Aragorn stood back as Legolas strode forward and grasped Haldir’s shoulders.  “Mae teli gwador!” said Legolas blissfully, looking radiantly at the assembled army.  In the common tongue, he had said, “Welcome, brother!”
Haldir clasped Legolas’ shoulders and smiled.  “Hannon le Legolas, Thranduilion,” he thanked Legolas.  Then he turned to his host and signaled for them to turn and position themselves to face the opening.  They lifted their bows, turned and reset them in an orderly manner.  Then Haldir turned to face Théoden.  “We are proud to fight alongside Men once more,” he finished triumphantly.
“You will help me thank Elrond upon your return to Rivendell,” replied Théoden in awe.
“We may never return,” said Haldir simply.
“You must not speak in such a way,” said Aragorn sternly.  “We will fight and we will win.”
“Win as you may, many of our lives will not spared,” countered Haldir.  “We come to assist you in your time of need; we are prepared for this.  We have lived thus far and we look not see the next battle come to pass.”
Aragorn’s smile faded and he looked from the unshaken Haldir to the silent army in distress.  Then he pulled himself together.  “I have faith in the Elves,” he said quietly.  Then he looked at Gamling, who was standing beside Théoden.  “Have the Men placed themselves properly?” he inquired.
“They have, my Lord,” said Gamling, bowing.
“Very well then, we may position the Elves on the outer wall to initially stop the mightiest of the yrch,” Haldir decided.  “What say you, Lord Aragorn?”
Aragorn nodded.  “All in order,” he said.  “I will arrange them at your leave.”
“Indeed you may,” said Haldir stepping aside and allowing Aragorn to take his place.  Aragorn led the Eldar Host to the outer top wall and lined them all up directly behind the long and misty stone wall, facing the ominous darkness that lay ahead.
Haldir stood near his brothers, silently vowing to himself to watch over them as long as he might.  As they all waited and motionlessly, they heard the distant sound of marching approach them.  Haldir stood straighter and taller, his heart full of valor and fortitude.  He would bring down as many as he could.
In a short while, the dreaded army of Uruk-hai stood before them, banging their long staves and spears on the ground above the Glittering Caves, in which the women and children were concealed.
Far off, Haldir could hear Aragorn shouting a commands to the Elves.  “A Eruchîn, ú-dano i faelas a hyn an uben tanatha le faelas!”
“We are no match for them,” said an old Man nearby him, quavering.
“Have faith in yourself and in each other,” said Haldir to the Man and those around him.  “You must not show to them your fear.  I drove away all my dread ere arriving here.  You must do the same.”
The Man looked up at Haldir with deep admiration.  “I shall, my Lord,” he said dutifully.  “Bless you for coming to our aid.  You have my honor.”
Haldir only smiled receptively at the Man, before turning back at the loathsome army below.  The Men took out their lances and arrows and notched their bows, all aiming at the Uruk-hai and preparing to fire at them.  The foul horde continued to roar and slam their spears onto the stone ground as loud as ever.  The leader of the Uruk army stood on a huge stone and growled as it glared up at the Men and Elves.
Haldir watched the Men on the far wall with their arrows at the ready.  They appeared to be less and less confident by the second and Haldir wondered how long they would be able to hold for.
Suddenly Haldir watched in surprised as a shaking senior Man let go of his arrow in anxiety and let it fly directly into the heart of the middle Uruk of the front row.
“Dartho!” yelled Aragorn commandingly.
The Uruk-hai slowly ceased their noise and all was quiet.  Everyone – including all of the Uruk-hai standing behind the wounded one – seemed to be staring at that one Orc to see what would happen to it.  It groaned slowly and keeled over on its front, knocking the arrow straight through its own body.  A malicious growl started to form and spread through the gathering of the Great Orcs of Isengard and it gradually grew louder until it was deafening.  The leader roared an almighty roar and held its stong blade high above its head.  The Uruk-hai charged forward and ran at a staggering speed towards the fortress.
“Tangado a chadad!” shouted Aragorn steadily to the Elves.
“Tangado a chadad!” came a repeat call from an Elf far off on the other end of the wall.
Haldir whipped out an arrow from his quiver and notched it in, synchronizing with the other Elves around him.  He aimed at an Orc in the front row, one that was at the end of the line.
“Lheitho i phillin!” Aragorn roared, motioning with his arm for them to release their arrows.
Haldir let go and successfully shot that one Uruk in its left shoulder.  He and his Elves continued free-shooting as the Elves positioned behind the wall shot a set of volleys directed by Aragorn.  “Hado i ribed!” ordered Aragorn as another set of volleys flew neatly over their heads.
Haldir watched in anguish as a few of his fellow Galadhrim were shot down from the wall and fell to their deaths.  He shook himself and reminded himself that in battle they could not waste time grieving.  But in spite of himself, he gazed as one of his comrades received an arrow in the chest and went careening into the crowd of barmy Orcs.  He flared up in anger and whipped out two arrows that he both shot directly into the beating heart of the Uruk who brought his friend down.
He spun around as there came an abrupt call from Aragorn.  “Pendrath!” he bellowed to the Elves.  Haldir scanned the crowd of twisted Orcs and sure enough there were six ladders being hauled to the fortress.  Haldir shook his head and shot at one of the Orcs holding the ladder closest to the wall, sending it crumpling to the ground.  The other Orcs stepped right over its body and kept running to the wall with their ladders.
He reached for another arrow and found that he no longer had any in his quiver.  “Shoot them down!” roared Haldir to the Elves around him.  “Bring them down!  Hold them back!  Ti togdad!  Garo yrch dan!”  Obeying their captain, they shot at the Orcs with the ladders, but they were too quick.  They brought the ladders upon the walls and started climbing them.  Haldir realized that his bow was no longer useful and he tossed it aside, whisking his sword out at the same time.
The Elves who too no longer had any arrows stood at the ladders with Haldir and Gimli the Dwarf, waiting for the Uruks to appear.  An Orc emerged, snarling almost just as Legolas shot it down.  “That was mine!” growled Gimli to the Elf.
Not a few feet away, Aragorn was slashing at the Orcs who were already surrounding them.  An Orc came up the ladder snarly madly.  Haldir gouged its neck with his sword, sending it flying back down to where it had come from.  He turned and an Uruk in front of him raised his sword and was prepared to behead him when Haldir roared and brought his sword about, cutting the creature right through its stomach.
He continued at the same spot all through the night, for the creatures never stopped coming.  The more he destroyed, it seemed, the more would come.  He caught sight of the Elves shooting at the causeway, at the Orcs who were attempting to bring down the doors.
There was a piercing yell and Legolas was the only one who was able to take action.  “Dago hon!” Aragorn yelled in panic.  “Dago hon!”  Haldir roughly lodged an abandoned spear into the stomach of the Orc he was fighting and turned around just in time to see an unarmed Uruk carrying a torch throw himself into the drain beneath the fortress.
There came a groan from the Uruk and the wall was breached.  There was a vast explosion and the Elves, Men and Uruks who were standing over the drain were destroyed and thrown into the army of Uruks.  Haldir stared hard at the wreckage, unable to believe what had just happened.  He looked around frantically, making sure that his brothers were still by his side.  They were not.  “Rúmil!  Orophin!” he cried, darting around uncharacteristically.  “Dambeth enni! Gwanur!”  He blindly slashed at an Uruk and killed it.  He could not find his brothers.  He’d broken his own vow and he would never forgive himself for it.  Tears rolled down his face as he finished off another Uruk.
He heard Théoden shouting something, but he could not discern his words.  More Orcs were running in his direction and he brutally slashed each one.
“Haldir!” Aragorn called to him from the ground.  Haldir pulled his sword out of an Uruk and looked over the edge at the Dúnedan.  “Nan barad, Haldir!  Nan barad!”  Haldir nodded.  If he could not save his own brothers, then he’d save the others.
“Drego Galadhrim, noro!  Nan barad!” he roared, signaling to his Elves to run to the Keep.  An Elf ran by carrying a sword.  Haldir caught a glimpse of the Elf’s face and stopped.  It was Orophin.  “Oroph-” he began before watching a bloodied Elf run by him.  The Elf was Rúmil.  “Nan barad!” Haldir yelled on, watching his brothers and making sure that they weren’t harmed.  Rúmil had looked horrible.  He’d save his brother when they met up later on after the battle.
Two Uruks ran up in front of him and as Haldir stabbed one of them, still watching his brothers flee, the second beast slashed at his left arm and opened a huge gash in his wrist.  He gasped in pain and swung his sword at the Orc, cutting its neck open and killing it.  Haldir paused in shock and agony and stared at his wrist, not quite believing what had happened.  An Elf ran by him.  Blood dripped from his wrist and everything seemed to be happening in slow motion.  Another Elf darted past him.  He looked into the direction where his brothers had gone and he decided that he’d have to make it to the Keep in order to be reunited with them.  With that, he started running after another Elf that came by.
A shadow appeared behind him and there was a loud thud.  Haldir stopped in his tracks and he now wore a stunned expression on his face.  He felt a huge sear of pain on the back of his head and his wrist injury could no longer be felt.  His knees gave way and he fell to the floor, dazed.  All the sound around him became mute and he was left kneeling amongst the dead.  He could feel his life being whisked away slowly and all he could think was, ‘I didn’t watch out for them.  And now I am paying.”  His face contorted in pain as he gazed down at the broken up dead bodies of the Elves of the Galadhrim.  He had failed his brothers and himself.  The only sound he could hear was an eerily soft, but comforting noise.  It was almost like a beautiful voice was singing to him.  He inhaled sharply and thought his last thought about his two brothers. ‘May the blessings of the Valar protect them.’
Fading away, he heard a soft melody blowing past his ear.  Ar sindarnoriello caita mornië, ar ilye tier undulave lumbulë...
As Aragorn rushed to his side and gripped the Elf’s shoulder, Haldir’s head fell back limply upon the Man’s shoulder.  His beautiful blue eyes were unmoving and his mouth was still half open in shock but it breathed no air.  His life had moved on.  Haldir had passed over the seas and into Aman, still vowing to keep a watch out for his brothers.  Even so, he had died a hero.