Celeborn's Nine - Riders of the Night

Author's musings: Last night at 2AM I awoke from a sound sleep with a voice telling me Aragorn MUST be in this story.....don't know where or how yet, but I think it has something to do with helping Haldir
Hey Marz...as for Haldir...there will a cure that I think EVERY Haldir fan will look forward to. And I'll leave it at that.
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(first idea was deleted)

Bring my bow
Fill my head with flame, and we must
Let them know that the torch is lit again.
Crystalize the pain behind your eyes
Are you ready to fight?.....................A Call to Arms....Mike and the Mechanics
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Celeborn was firm, he didn't want anyone else, not even the King of Gondor on this hunt. And Aragorn chafed at the suggestion that he would just be in the way. And it really bothered him that neither Elladan nor Elrohir came to his defense.

Gimli understood the king's frustration. How could Celeborn look down his elfen nose at Aragorn, while Haldir had himself draped over some expensive furniture counting ceiling cracks.

"It seems to me," the dwarf began, "that if you want to take on a Nazgul, even a solitary one, you might want extra men. He'll have protection, you know."

"WE do well without an army," Glorfindel explained. "WE know and understand each other."

"EVen him?" Gimli asked and nodded at Haldir.

Neither Celeborn nor Glorfindel would change their minds. No one else was going with them. With the discussion at an end, Celeborn told his riders to tack up. Haldir, sitting up, looked at Gimli and smiled....sort of. "Maybe you're the reason Lord Celeborn won't take Aragorn," he said tonelessly and stood up. The dark clothes he wore just seemed to accentuate the paleness of his skin, the tragedy in his eyes.

Gimli bristled at the insult, but Aragorn laid a hand on his shoulder to keep any further insults from being exchanged. "Ride carefully, Haldir," he said, wishing he could remove the misery he saw in the elf's eyes.

Haldir didn't say anything. Turning on his heels, he walked away from the King of Gondor, a man he had once believed was his friend.
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Aragorn was on the battlements when Celeborn and his nine rode away. He envied them their freedom; he didn't envy them where they were going or who they were going to face. Suddenly one of the horsemen stopped and looked back. It was Haldir. Aragorn raised his hand but Rumil didn't see the exchange and reined his horse around Haldir's, turning him. Aragorn knew he had to do something to help the damaged elf, but what?

Riding out of the Minas Tirith gate, Glorfindel touched his horse with the spurs and started at a gallop towards the river. The other horses joined his for a wild run across the plain between the city and the river. He was certain they would be in the Shadow Mountains before moonrise.
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Elrohir, his bow at ready, crouched against the rock face while Elladan continued to climb higher on foot. Farther down the rocky trail, Celeborn waited for Elladan to give the signal. If what they were hearing was orcs, they would dispatch them soon enough, but he needed to be certain they weren't facing more than they could handle.

Elladan looked back and waved. That was the signal. Motioning the Galadhrim past him, Celeborn drew his sword and sprinted up the trail to wait by Elrohir. Glorfindel, higher up somewhere with Haldir, would have also seen Elladan's signal. The moment it was given, they all had a hundred heart beats before they attacked.

"Now," Celeborn whispered to himself as white flighted arrows split the night with their deadly accuracy. Savage screams echoed off the mountain sides. Celeborn hurried highter with Elrohir. An orc suddenly appeared before him. Undaunted by the creature's side, he slashed into it. It did not go down easy, but down it did go. Celeborn had no intention of letting the thing get by him.

Since they arracked by surprize under night's protection, the elves had the small group of orcs dispatched within the hour. Celeborn quickly summized that there were still enough creatures in Mordor to keep them busy for quite some time, but Khamul was obsessing his thoughts. The witch king's lieutenant had escaped the distruction of Mt. Doom. What orc could compare to a Nazgul? And a living Nazgul meant future dangers for Aragorn and Arwen's children. The creature had to be hunted down and killed.

Glorfindel and Haldir were the last to arrive at the small camp from their attack point on the mountain. Celeborn was surprised to see black blood on Haldir's sword, which meant he had actually confronted one. It had been his opinion that they were too high up to actually face this group one on one. But Glorfindel told them that they had run into three of the beasts at a higher level. Running into them had made Haldir very happy; he still had a smile on his face. Sitting between his brothers, he took a rag out of his saddle bag and wiped the blade clean. Fingers that had once caressed a lover's body now ran lovingly over the blade. For a brief moment his eyes shined with life, then the pain returned and the joy left. Rumil and Orophin tried desperately to find a way to keep the light in his eyes, but nothing worked. The terror he had felt at the Deep, the waiting in his own blood, unable to let anyone know he was alive, was ingrained in every nerve and blood cell in his body. When it got too much to bear, he simply curled up in a ball and waited for something to distract him. Many days when they rested and waited for the night, they took turns holding him. He never said anything, never wept or complained of life's unfairness, he simply waited. Some would say that Haldir was paying for his sins, his legendary arrogance and obsession for things of the flesh, but Orophin always believed that Haldir had been sinned against more than he had sinned. Almost everything he loved was gone. Only he and Rumil were keeping him from fading away. That was why Orophin held tightly to him when the demons of the mind came, when the inner pain was too great to bear alone. And he would never let him go.
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Akamanahn pressed himself againt the elf's body and whispered, "Open your mouth my love, and let me taste your sweetness. It has been too long." But the lips did not respond. He caressed the magnificent
body and felt nothing happening. So he kissed the soft lips and grieved that he had lost one of his children.

"He's mine now," Agaz preened and ran her gnarled finger over the lips Akamanahn had just kissed. "See how he responds to my touch."

"A moan of misery?" the beautiful spirit of desire asked.

"You abdandoned him. I claimed him," the crone said unforgivingly. "Is he not more beautiful in his pain than he ever was in your passions?"

Akamanahn had to admit he was never more beautiful. He tried once more to claim the soft lips, but once more it was fruitless. Agaz smiled a toothless grin and caressed the sleeping body. All that was sweet about him filled her with joy. It wasn't often she could take one of Akahananhn's children from him. And he was immortal.
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Rumil saw a single silver tear slide down his brother's face.