It was daylight now, though heavy clouds still lay over the sky. The sunlight flashing out through the clouds as Mithrandir rode down the hill had once again slipped away, and only grey clouds remained, left over from the rainstorm of the night. All around him, he could hear voices and footsteps, men and women scouring the battle-field for those who were still alive, and taking away those who had died.
Shaking his head slightly, Aldamir closed his eyes again. It all came back to him now; the battle, the horror of Elves falling about him, the deafening pounding of the enemy army�s spears against the rain-soaked ground, the snarls and roars of the Uruk-hai as they scaled the walls and poured like a stream of deadly poison into the ranks of the Elves. He recalled battling an orc, and feeling the knife bury itself in his side; dimly he remembered feeling something pierce his shoulder. Carefully he moved his right hand to his left shoulder; yes, an arrow was sticking there, and his cloak was stiff with dried blood. His hand dropped to the ground again.
Suddenly a shadow cast itself over his face, and he opened his eyes. Kneeling over him with an expression of deep anxiety in his brown eyes was Lindir. He relaxed slightly when he saw that Aldamir was alive.
�Aldamir! Thank Elbereth; I was sure you were dead,� he said, putting his hand on the Elf�s shoulder. �You�re terribly wounded, though; I�m surprised that you did live.�
Aldamir managed a weak smile. �Takes a bit more than that to kill me,� he murmured. �I�m glad you made it.�
Lindir smiled back, but he became grave as he examined Aldamir�s wounds. �You�ve hung on by a thin thread, and barely that, my friend,� he said. �I�ve got to get you back to the keep; do you think you can walk?�
�I can try,� answered Aldamir.
�All right, but wait just a moment. I need to get this arrow out of your shoulder.�
Aldamir closed his eyes and gritted his teeth, but he could not keep back a cry of pain as Lindir pulled the shaft from his shoulder and the pain seemed to double itself. Quickly Lindir pressed his cloak to the wound to stop the renewed bleeding, and slipped his arm under Aldamir�s shoulders. Leaning on him, Aldamir slowly stood up, biting his lip to keep back a moan of pain as the knife-wound in his side burned agonizingly.
Carefully and slowly Lindir walked back into the keep, supporting Aldamir as he leaned heavily against him, weak and exhausted. All about them as they walked lay dead Elves, Rohirrim, and uruk-hai. Aldamir's heart grew heavy with sorrow as he looked about at the death and ruin wreaked by Saruman's army. The people were taking away their dead; Rohirrim tending first to those of their own folk, and likewise with the Elves. But Aldamir knew there were many more Elves dead than living. His head drooped wearily.
In the keep, Lindir lowered him to the floor and he half-leaned, half-lay against the wall as Lindir bound up his wounds with some clean linen and a bit of herbs he had brought with him from L�rien. His senses were hazy and he felt half-dead, half-asleep as Lindir tended to him, but when he smelt the fragrance of the Elven herbs, his head cleared slightly and he lifted it and opened his eyes.
Lindir sat back on his heels and looked at him. �You�ve still got a sliver of that knife in your wound, I�m afraid,� he said. �Will you be able to stand it if I take it out, or would you rather wait?�
Aldamir shook his head. �I�d rather have it out of there as quickly as possible. Go ahead; I�ll be all right.�
Very gently, Lindir probed the wound for the sliver of metal, but it was a few painful moments for Aldamir before he found it. As he drew it out, Aldamir relaxed slightly and let out his breath. �Thank you, Lindir.�
�It�s nothing. There, now you�re fairly well patched up.� He stood up and smiled at his friend. �Won�t you rest now? I think you need it.�
Aldamir nodded, but then a sudden shock of realization hit him, and he got to his feet, regardless of his wounds. �Haldir! Lindir, where is he? Have you seen him?�
Lindir bowed his head, and when he raised it there were tears in his eyes. Aldamir�s heart tightened apprehensively. Lindir spoke sorrowfully in a low voice.
�He will not return to L�rien...�
Aldamir�s heart wrenched painfully. �No...it cannot be...� he choked. �Lindir, where is he? Where have they taken him?�
Lindir pointed wordlessly in the direction of the Deeping Wall. Gazing into Aldamir�s grief-stricken eyes, he could find no words and turned away.
Heedless of the pain from his side and shoulder, Aldamir ran out of the keep. Half-blinded with tears and grief, he stumbled through the shattered remnants of the Wall and climbed the stairs. Clearing his eyes with his hand enough to see, he looked about, and saw a still figure, shrouded in red, lying close to the wall. Two Elves with heads bowed stood near him, but they drew away when they saw Aldamir.
Slowly he made his way toward his dead companion, hardly aware of where his feet stepped.
Haldir�s body, wrapped in the crimson cloak he had worn into battle, rested limply on the chilly stones. The cloak was torn, the bright Elven armor was dimmed with blood and earth, and his sword, stained with the dark blood of orcs, lay by his side. His face was pale, with a strange sort of calmness, and his lashes lay with striking darkness against his white cheeks. Aldamir knelt beside him, to choked up with emotion to speak or hardly even breathe. He touched his friend�s cold cheek, and closed his eyes in anguish at the touch. Reaching for Haldir�s white, bloodstained hand, he pressed it between his for a long moment.
Aldamir had never thought such agonizing grief was possible, but now he felt as if his heart had been taken and wrenched in two, and cast upon the cold stones beside his dead comrade. Tears filled his eyes as he gazed upon Haldir�s pale face, never again to look upon the fair woods of L�rien. Haldir had loved the mallorns deeply; now he was never to see them again...never to feel the smooth bark beneath his fingers...never to hear the soft sigh of the wind among the dancing leaves...
Aldamir�s hand slid inside his tunic; he drew out the mallorn-leaf which he had borne with him through so many miles. He looked at it for a moment, and pressed it to his lips. Then he gently slipped it under Haldir�s cloak and laid it against his heart; the brave heart which was never to beat again. Pressing it there, he bent down.
�Haldir, brave spirit, noblest of friends, may your spirit find everlasting rest in the halls beyond the stars...�
He kissed Haldir�s brow softly, and took his hand from the Elf�s still heart. Burying his face in his hands, he fell back against the stone wall and wept bitterly.