The old ways

Theoden urged his army closer to the city and when they had reached a hilltop near the Minas Tirith, they all could see through the pale light of the early day the destruction and mass of orcs and Uruk-Hai.

Even Theoden, so headstrong until now halted in his tracks, terror written clearly across his face.

Then suddenly a bright light erupted from the city and Theoden sprang forward calling his army to war.

Merry hung onto Dernhelm with all the force he could muster. They were charging onto the fields of Pelennor with speed and as soon as they had reached the first foes, the slaughter began.

Merry was behind Dernhelm and had lost track of the enemies slain before his eyes. Haldir was near them all the time, with a hard light in his usually bright eyes and his bow ready. His weakness seemed to have left him completely and he slew orcs as they came.

Suddenly there was a strange noise from above and as the Hobbit glanced up, he saw the most terrifying creature that had ever come before his eyes.

The Witch king of Angmar was upon them, clawing at everybody who stood in his way, until he had reached Theoden. In naught but a second the King was down, when Dernhelm suddenly jumped off his horse, taking Merry down with him, moving in the way of the Nazgûl.

Dernhelm threw off his helm and beneath it lay the shimmering hair of Eowyn, shieldmaiden of Rohan. Merry instantly moved to her side, his sword drawn.

Haldir felt his shoulders ache as he killed foe after foe. His eyes constantly darting from left to right, trying to find any track of Legolas, Aragorn or Gimli.

His strength was pouring from him in the same way as sweat was running down his torso.

Somewhere to his left he heard Merry cry out in vain and from the corner of his eye he could make out a huge form, but he tried to get closer to the city gates.

He would deal with his friends later.

Rain had come up and hindered his view, all he knew was that he had to get to the southern gate and see if his friends and his beloved were there.

He heard Eomer’s voice near him and threw a quick glance at the fighter. He seemed still in good health as he gathered his men from anew and charged forward.

All of a sudden his men stopped dead in his tracks, pointing towards Anduin, their voices filled with dread and waning courage.

"They are corsairs of Umbar. Oh no, now we are lost. We cannot hold back any more foes. The other cities must have fallen, doom is upon us!"

"Then let us hold a last stand, fight as long as we have the strength. We will not give in nor show them any weakness. Come my men, let us show them what real fighters of Rohan are." With that Eomer moved his men in one line, blades ready to strike. Haldir moved with them, all of his hope disappearing, his soul bleeding, willing to fall within this battle, for surely his friends had fallen already.

Their eyes were steadily upon the ships, as the line of warriors moved forward. Heavy rain now came from the west, but with it some pale rays of morning light, bathing the battlefield in an eerie glow.

Just as they were about to charge down where the ships were landing, a banner opened itself in the winds coming from the west.

Dark it was, but upon it gleamed and glistened the White Tree of Gondor and above it twinkled the Seven Stars, the signs of Elendil.

Halting in their tracks at the sight of wonder, they could see Aragorn running from the largest ships slashing his way through the foes that stood in his way. Along with him there were Gimli and Legolas, killing as they ran.

Haldir choked on his own breath when he saw his love as he came running down from the boat.

Without thinking he urged his horse forward into a gallop, trying to get near to his husband as fast as he could. But the nearer he came the harder it was for him to see Legolas. The orcs were still outnumbering them by far, but he could make out more and more men and fighters pouring out of the ships belies. Relief washed over him, and he knew there was a chance.

He could hear Gimli’s battle cries and as he was hacking his way through the vast amount of orcs, Haldir suddenly could see Legolas blocking a blow from an Uruk-Hai with his long knives and stabbing his enemy deep into the chest, when the other orc approached him from behind, sword ready to strike.

For Haldir time seemed to slow down. A few yards to the left side of Legolas was Gimli who had seen the orc as well, but he had spent his throwing axes and there was no time to recollect them. He swung his battle axe screaming at the orc trying to distract him, but realisation clearly written on his face, knowing he wouldn’t make it on time to safe the young elf.

Haldir threw his sword away, not caring if it was lost and drew his bow up, notching an arrow in one swift motion. Holding his horse still with pure will he didn’t take his time to aim properly, praying to the Valar they would grant him a clear hit.

Gimli saw his friend plunging his knives into the broad chest of his enemy, never noticing the orc behind him. The crude blade raised high above his head the orc approached Legolas at a frightful speed. The dwarf screamed and waved his ax at the orc, hoping against hope, that the foul creature would hear him, but it was no use. His eyes fastened on his preys back, the orc came nearer and nearer.

Suddenly Legolas pulled his blades from the large body before him with a sickening sound and spun around to find himself face to face with the blade of an orc.

He knew then that it was over, that all had been in vain, that he would not make it. Some part of him was glad that he would have the chance to see his love again soon, but the other fought, hoping aga the the odds that he would survive, desperately trying to protect his child, letting go off the long knives crossing his arms protectively before his body closing his eyes in defeat.