Title: Death Immortal Author: *Koulagirl Email: n/a Betas: JayRider and Glorfindel Rating: NC-17 Pairing: Celeborn/Haldir Warnings: mentions of character death, descriptions of violence Request: Haldir and Celeborn in love WITH Galadriel's consent/blessings. How about something different this year? Haldir is seriously injured (author's pick on how) and is close to death. ONLY Celeborn can save his life. How does he do it? Make me cry! Summary: The greatest danger is the one you do not know until it is too late.
Author's Note: Italics denote telepathic speech. ******************
I.
II. You need nor fear recrimination here; you did not abandon Haldir in his time of need. His injury was unavoidable, perhaps inevitable. Galadriel's voice echoed through the minds of all in the glade, but none dared to contest her despite their guilt. Tell me of this new evil in our home, Celeborn spoke; his mental voice was calm and even, quieter than Galadriel's but just as penetrating, though he too kept his head down and fought to not betray his own warring emotions. The patrol replied with both images and words, haphazardly relayed in pieces by one Elf and then another, sometimes two or three speaking at the same time. They lived as a unit and so their story was told that way, as best they could. They spoke of creatures with clear, shiny skin that, when pierced, bled something that flowed in a manner like oil. They wielded weapons of a strange make; twisted black metal that shone fireless in the sunlight, bit sharply and narrowly but tore at the skin and left poison behind. The armour they wore was of similar kind and moulded rather than crafted; they stood waist high and appeared like animals in the shadow, indistinguishable and heartless. They attacked indiscriminately, without formation or plan, yet inflicted a high proportion of damage. We did not mean to leave him, said the tallest, an Elf with dark hair and piercing eyes, but we were too few to counter effectively. Haldir ordered us to retreat, but he did not follow. We did not realise that he had been cut off from us until we turned to find him not with us; we returned to find him as he is now.
III. But what of Haldir? It was the only thought he had, and they were the only words he could think of to say. Galadriel reached for his hand with hers and he allowed her to hold it; her touch was cool but did nothing to soothe his heart. The mirror is silent.
IV. Night fell and the city was silent; the lament was over and the air was heavy on Celeborn's shoulders as he stood. It was time; he would not be disturbed until morning, when the healer would take Haldir's body if he failed, and would find them both if he succeeded. There was much to risk, for his memory was clouded and there was no time to send to Mithlond for aid; Haldir's f�a would not linger unsent forever, and already Haldir's face wore an expression of eternal peace rather than pain. Under the light of the full moon, Haldir seemed to have some of his natural light returned to him, but the coolness of his skin and the stained bandage around his waist betrayed the illusion; Celeborn cried as he tore the bandage away. Though cleaned, the wound was long and deep and outlined with black poison; it was an Orc-wound, inflicted by a jagged sword. Celeborn saw the last moments of Haldir's life as he placed his hands on the wound and began to sing. He called to the mellyrn and the spirits within them; he called to the grasses and the lakes that sustained them, and to the animals who shared their home. He felt the spirit of the wood stir within him and he drew on its strength - its vitality and the life within it - as he reached out to Haldir's f�a with his own, calling it back to the forest it called home. If it was the spirit of Lothl�rien alone that Haldir responded to, Celeborn would have been happy enough to see Haldir's eyes open. Somehow, though, Celeborn moved as if he was guided by the hand of Yavanna herself; he found the peace within him that he had not found before and with it a certainty that he had not erred. He drew the poison from Haldir's stomach and cast it away; it was carried by a wind that seemed to pass just for that reason, and did not mar the light of the moon or the trees. The wound closed easily beneath his hands once it was gone, for like a malignant force it had countered all the good that had been done against it. Celeborn felt his f�a strengthen within him and then split; it was a heartache that would have caused him to cry out in pain had he not seen Haldir's chest rise with a breath, and fall again beneath the weight of that half of Celeborn's f�a that passed from him into Haldir's body, replacing the damaged parts of Haldir's spirit with a wood-heritage as strong as Celeborn's own. A leaf landed by Haldir's head and then another on his chest; Celeborn took his hands away and closed his eyes. The mellyrn gave their blessing and guarded his rest until dawn warmed them both. It was Haldir's voice that brought him out of the trance, long after the leaves had ceased to fall.
V. He will pay a price for that choice; if he leaves the shelter of Lothl�rien, he will die. Celeborn cried for Haldir's freedom, though the mirror stayed silent when he asked it how long they would have.
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