I run back to the keep when I sense an uruk behind me.
I was about to turn and run, for I knew I could not fight him. Then I felt a blade cutting through my back. I feel my shoulder bones snapping under the weight and blood streaming from the gaping wound. It is a sharp, cold pain.
Trying not to yelp, I turned and tried to keep running. I hear Aragorn crying out behind me, in some far distant place. And then the orc lunges at me again, his weapon lodged in my back.
This time I fall.
The world has become an echo, and pain has become the world.
Perhaps angels are singing a lament for me in some far distant place, but I doubt it.
I realise now that I am going to die without glimpsing Elven Tirion.
Then I see Rumil, lying on the floor, eyes misty and unseeing. He is dead.
Not you too, I try and say, but I have not the strength.
The sons of Nunaur are all dead. All because of these petty mortals.
Before I hit the floor, Aragorn catches me. I gasp when I see him and want to say something to him like: “get off me you smelly old man”, but can’t.
For I moment, I thought he was going to kiss me.
But I breathe my last breath, of relief. He just heroically thumps my wounded chest. It’s all his fault.
And then he leaves, for the battle has not yet ended.
With my last ounce of energy, I close my eyes. The End has finally come.
I am happy to sit here and rest until I go to Mandos, to meet my brothers and tell them how sorry I am, that I brought them along here to die.
My life is flashing before my eyes.
My childhood: numerous happy days in Lothlorien, under the starlight and the trees.
I remember shooting Galadriel’s newly painted walls, then running away;
Scrawling on the walls of Thranduil’s palace: “Legolas loves Elladan”
And then he got me back by doodling on Galadriel’s tree: “Haldir loves Elladan”
So Elladan graffitied all over Rivendell: “Legolas loves Haldir”
And Elrohir got jealous since he thought no one liked him, so he spread a rumour that Legolas was gay, and everyone’s worst suspicions were confirmed.
I remember first learning to shoot with a bow for the first time. My arrow hit Celeborn in the groin.
I remember teaching Rumil and Orophin how to shoot. They both hit Celeborn in the groin.
I was so proud.
I remember being awarded the title “march warden of Lorien”. Killing dumb orcs and meeting people like the fellowship.
Ah yes; the fellowship……..
~~~~~~~~~~~A long while ago~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
One day, I was just minding my own business, when I saw a bunch of people walking through the woods of Lorien. 2 men, a dwarf, 4 short people…… And Legolas, prince of the Woodland Realm.
I cursed my luck. Of course, this was the “fellowship of the Highly Evil Ring” that Galadriel had been yapping on about for over 16 days. Celeborn had been avoiding her so as not to hear her rendition of: “the world is changed. I feel it the water….”Etc.
So I decided to drop in on them and give them a fright, and hoped to embarrass Legolas in front of his new friends.
Dwarves are joke magnets. Common knowledge. I gave my old: “a dwarf breathes so loud we could have shot him….yada yada yada”
And nobody laughed. I was really losing my touch.
The fellowship stayed in Lothlorien a long time. Too long. I got really sick of them. And I played my share of tricks: tripping them up when they were blindfolded, putting hare’s fur in their food.
Of course Old G’lad’s got really sick of me, and she got her revenge by giving Legolas a lovely new Lothlorien bow.
MY lothlorien bow.
When they finally left to get somewhere with their Highly Important Quest, we held a celebration.
My memories are flashing faster now, images leading up to the present:
I see myself packing for the trip to Rohan, and Galadriel giving my shiny breastplate: My shiny shoddy piece of crap. She KNEW it was crap, and still gave me it. Now I’m bleeding slowly to death because of it, but at least I won’t have to face blood poisoning. Damn this shiny armour.
More images flash before me, and then I reach the battle, and the orc who killed me.
And all goes black.
I’m blind and deaf to the world. There is a sound of orcs yelling, but all I can hear are whispers. The whispers of my people on some far isle.
……I’m actually going to die. Death has come to me: The End of existence, inevitable and irreversible.
There are sounds of horse’s hooves, and I wonder if Aragorn, Legolas and the dwarf called Gimli survived this battle, if it was won at all.
I whisper to myself, in my head, a prayer to Elbereth and pray for the victory of this battle
But it no longer matters. It is none of my concern.
So this is what dying feels like.
Light has appeared. I can see it through my eyelids. A small light peeping over the horizon, gradually getting brighter until it seems the whole sky has been filled with its radiance. And I can see that it is the Dawn.
Dawn has come. I open my eyes and see the Dawn, the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.
I’m still alive.
Haldir lives, apart from his broken bones, torn flesh and huge blood loss!!!
I’m still alive.