The Forgotten Ring
folder
Lord of the Rings Movies › Het - Male/Female
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
51
Views:
5,099
Reviews:
17
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Category:
Lord of the Rings Movies › Het - Male/Female
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
51
Views:
5,099
Reviews:
17
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Disclaimer:
I do not own the Lord of the Rings book series and movie series, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.
A Fallen Hero
Disclaimer: All familiar characters of this story belong to the awesome world and works of JRR Tolkien, who is an unparalleled genius of this genre. All unfamiliar and original characters, animals and places are of my own invention. I do not derive any monies from this work and created this story solely out of the love and respect that I hold for all of the works related to this canon.
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The Forgotten Ring
by Sienna Dawn
Haldir/OFC
NC17
Chapter 1 - A Fallen Hero
Third Age of the War of the Ring - The Battle of Helm's Deep - Year III 3019
Aragorn, proud son of Arathorn, grieved. Holding the fatally wounded Marchwarden of Lorien, he urgently called the elf's name, "Haldir! Haldir!" The roar of battle raged around him, but Aragorn did not hear it.
The elf never stirred, his bright blue gaze fixed to the stars, a silent witness to the death of yet another brave warrior.
Aragorn gently laid the body of the proud and courageous elf back on the bloodied parapet. Such futility, such utter waste, he thought with rage. He looked around him, his strong heart wrenched by the sight of the carnage. Death upon sorrow were his people's legacy, and yet he knew this was their time. The time of Men had come; either they met and defeated this horde, or all of the free peoples of Middle Earth were doomed.
The elves should not have come, he decided. This was not their doom. The blessed lands of Aman were their gift. For nearly six thousand years had the elves fought against the darkness of this evil; first against Melkor, who slew Finwe, stole the Silmarils and after destroying the Two Trees of Valinor, returned to Middle Earth to hide in the deep ancient fortress in Angband. There, thought Aragorn as he watched the battle unfolding before him, Melkor plotted and bided his time, seeking to destroy all that the Valar had created, seeking to destroy the First Born. And when the Noldor and the Valar finally defeated Melkor, it was Sauron with the Balrogs who hid in the depths of Middle Earth, until Melkor, renamed Morgoth, regrouped and with the foul Orcs attempted to overtake the Noldor and destroy them. This had been in the First Age, thousands of years ago, and still the battle raged, and it raged against men and elves, not just against elves. For it had come to Aragorn in the last twinkling of daylight one fine day in Imladris that the great evil wrought on Middle Earth by the enemies of the Valar intended to destroy all life on Middle Earth. By now, at the close of this age, Men had to make the same stand that the elves had once made long ago.
Aragorn looked back at Haldir's still body. His smooth face lined in perfect peace. He sleeps the sleep of forever, and naught will know for how long that will be, thought Aragorn sadly. How long would his spirit wait in the Halls of Mandos and who would weep for him? Aragorn knew that in his heart he would weep for every elf, woman, man and child who had died at the hands of the Enemy. Shaking his head slightly, he remembered he had a battle to wage and a war to win. Giving the fallen Haldir one final and fleeting goodbye, he raced down toward the southern ramparts, where the battle was surging out of control. He barely noticed Legolas running in his direction.
"Aragorn! Aragorn!" cried Legolas, seeing the immobile body of Haldir, blood seeping from the gaping head injury which had claimed his life. Legolas sliced cleanly through an Orc that came racing his way. The foul-smelling creature fell to the side, shrieking in mortal agony. Legolas barely registered the sound. His gaze was fixed on Haldir.
"Ai! Aragorn! Then it is true." Legolas whispered. He kneeled by the broken body of his friend. "Haldir is gone. Cormamin niuve tenna' ta elea lle au. Quel kaima." He studied the face of his friend. Death in battle was a possibility for every warrior, but to an elf, the idea of death was so foreign, so incomprehensible, that in his heart Legolas could only liken the pain he now felt to the pain he had experienced at the loss of Mithrandir in the Mines of Moria. And yet this pain was different. It was an acute pain, as if his lungs could not draw a deep breath. Aragorn came to stand beside him.
"We must move his body inside!" Aragorn's voice was shrill as the sounds of battle rained down upon them. He came round to Haldir's legs. He noticed Legolas did not move.
"No, leave him as he is." Legolas said without taking his eyes off Haldir's body.
Aragorn frowned. What was this? Not any Elvish tradition he was aware of. Perhaps an obscure Lorien custom?
"We cannot, Legolas." Replied Aragorn, keeping his eye on the Orcs below the parapet. "Orc captains hold little with Elvish ways." He fixed his eyes on Legolas. "You know what they will do."
Legolas was ready with an answer. "Yes. But let the stars be his guide to Mandos and let the Valar judge what is to be done now." Legolas stood and turned toward the sound of the fighting. The parapet wall looked ready to give.
Aragorn for once was lost. What was this all about? He shrugged and decided to do as Legolas suggested. Walking away from Haldir, he inched toward the parapet. He did not like what he saw.
"As you wish." Turning to Legolas, "but we must fly inside if we value our necks." Motioning with his head, he nodded toward the parapet, "Orcs take no prisoners during battle, Legolas. We must leave now!"
Running silently, one weary man and one careful elf made their way across the broken rampart, down the parapet, each silently praying that the wall would hold, and toward the entrance to the great house where many of the wounded, dead and dying of Helm's Deep waited for a dawn that would never come.
Key:
Cormamin niuve tenna' ta elea lle au. Quel kaima. = My heart shall weep until it sees thee again. Sleep well.
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The Forgotten Ring
by Sienna Dawn
Haldir/OFC
NC17
Chapter 1 - A Fallen Hero
Third Age of the War of the Ring - The Battle of Helm's Deep - Year III 3019
Aragorn, proud son of Arathorn, grieved. Holding the fatally wounded Marchwarden of Lorien, he urgently called the elf's name, "Haldir! Haldir!" The roar of battle raged around him, but Aragorn did not hear it.
The elf never stirred, his bright blue gaze fixed to the stars, a silent witness to the death of yet another brave warrior.
Aragorn gently laid the body of the proud and courageous elf back on the bloodied parapet. Such futility, such utter waste, he thought with rage. He looked around him, his strong heart wrenched by the sight of the carnage. Death upon sorrow were his people's legacy, and yet he knew this was their time. The time of Men had come; either they met and defeated this horde, or all of the free peoples of Middle Earth were doomed.
The elves should not have come, he decided. This was not their doom. The blessed lands of Aman were their gift. For nearly six thousand years had the elves fought against the darkness of this evil; first against Melkor, who slew Finwe, stole the Silmarils and after destroying the Two Trees of Valinor, returned to Middle Earth to hide in the deep ancient fortress in Angband. There, thought Aragorn as he watched the battle unfolding before him, Melkor plotted and bided his time, seeking to destroy all that the Valar had created, seeking to destroy the First Born. And when the Noldor and the Valar finally defeated Melkor, it was Sauron with the Balrogs who hid in the depths of Middle Earth, until Melkor, renamed Morgoth, regrouped and with the foul Orcs attempted to overtake the Noldor and destroy them. This had been in the First Age, thousands of years ago, and still the battle raged, and it raged against men and elves, not just against elves. For it had come to Aragorn in the last twinkling of daylight one fine day in Imladris that the great evil wrought on Middle Earth by the enemies of the Valar intended to destroy all life on Middle Earth. By now, at the close of this age, Men had to make the same stand that the elves had once made long ago.
Aragorn looked back at Haldir's still body. His smooth face lined in perfect peace. He sleeps the sleep of forever, and naught will know for how long that will be, thought Aragorn sadly. How long would his spirit wait in the Halls of Mandos and who would weep for him? Aragorn knew that in his heart he would weep for every elf, woman, man and child who had died at the hands of the Enemy. Shaking his head slightly, he remembered he had a battle to wage and a war to win. Giving the fallen Haldir one final and fleeting goodbye, he raced down toward the southern ramparts, where the battle was surging out of control. He barely noticed Legolas running in his direction.
"Aragorn! Aragorn!" cried Legolas, seeing the immobile body of Haldir, blood seeping from the gaping head injury which had claimed his life. Legolas sliced cleanly through an Orc that came racing his way. The foul-smelling creature fell to the side, shrieking in mortal agony. Legolas barely registered the sound. His gaze was fixed on Haldir.
"Ai! Aragorn! Then it is true." Legolas whispered. He kneeled by the broken body of his friend. "Haldir is gone. Cormamin niuve tenna' ta elea lle au. Quel kaima." He studied the face of his friend. Death in battle was a possibility for every warrior, but to an elf, the idea of death was so foreign, so incomprehensible, that in his heart Legolas could only liken the pain he now felt to the pain he had experienced at the loss of Mithrandir in the Mines of Moria. And yet this pain was different. It was an acute pain, as if his lungs could not draw a deep breath. Aragorn came to stand beside him.
"We must move his body inside!" Aragorn's voice was shrill as the sounds of battle rained down upon them. He came round to Haldir's legs. He noticed Legolas did not move.
"No, leave him as he is." Legolas said without taking his eyes off Haldir's body.
Aragorn frowned. What was this? Not any Elvish tradition he was aware of. Perhaps an obscure Lorien custom?
"We cannot, Legolas." Replied Aragorn, keeping his eye on the Orcs below the parapet. "Orc captains hold little with Elvish ways." He fixed his eyes on Legolas. "You know what they will do."
Legolas was ready with an answer. "Yes. But let the stars be his guide to Mandos and let the Valar judge what is to be done now." Legolas stood and turned toward the sound of the fighting. The parapet wall looked ready to give.
Aragorn for once was lost. What was this all about? He shrugged and decided to do as Legolas suggested. Walking away from Haldir, he inched toward the parapet. He did not like what he saw.
"As you wish." Turning to Legolas, "but we must fly inside if we value our necks." Motioning with his head, he nodded toward the parapet, "Orcs take no prisoners during battle, Legolas. We must leave now!"
Running silently, one weary man and one careful elf made their way across the broken rampart, down the parapet, each silently praying that the wall would hold, and toward the entrance to the great house where many of the wounded, dead and dying of Helm's Deep waited for a dawn that would never come.
Key:
Cormamin niuve tenna' ta elea lle au. Quel kaima. = My heart shall weep until it sees thee again. Sleep well.
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