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.

As he blinked 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.

***********

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.

***********

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,” 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? Celeborn had dwelt in Middle-earth since before the sun and moon. Every elf Haldir had 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 the 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, her voice laced with concern. “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 horrible creatures, but we move often and live in the trees to stay away from them. No horrible creatures were near when we found you. Obviously, they did you this grievous injury, but apparently they believed you dead or 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?”

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXX