The bright orange light of the burning of the Orc-carcasses cast the
courtyard in a ghostly, smoky reddish haze. High up inside the mighty
Hornburg, Orophin watched as the bodies burned, the smell and smoke making
his eyes and throat sting and the pale light forming eerie shadows as it
played across his sharp features. He turned away from the window back to
the small meeting of powers inside the tiny stone tower. His young brother
Rúmil stood at his side, pale but recovering quickly, already regaining
some of his former strength and endurance. The Men conversed in low tones
amongst themselves, although the Elves could hear their every word without
trying. Nearby, seemingly unconcerned or unaffected by the oily smoke and
tense atmosphere, Legolas the Elf stood by his friend Gimli as they spoke
softly of some of the details of the battle. Mithrandir was there as well,
the Istar who had stopped the slaughter and turned the tide of the battle;
but it seemed as though the Men purposed to continue to Isengard.
Orophin stepped forward after an impatient glance from his brother. "A moment, my lords..." He choked on the title, unwilling to call any mere mortal "Lord." "We cannot stay longer. The Lord and Lady desire our return, and we have many comrades to bury and homes to protect."
The King Théoden looked up, triumphant weariness shining in his eyes. "Captain Orophin, if you would bury your dead, a place can be found among-"
"Your pardon, King Théoden," Orophin interrupted shortly, "but I will not lay any to rest here, in a realm of Men. We will return to Lothlórien tomorrow before the Sun rises."
One stepped from the far end of the group, and Orophin recognized the tall dark shape of Aragorn. When the Man spoke, his voice was tinged with compassion. "Orophin o Lórien, we may yet still need your help. If you would stay but a few days longer and continue with us-"
Orophin drew himself up, anger flaring in him. "Lord Aragorn, over half of those that came here under my brother, including their captain, have fallen for the sake of your people and those of Rohan. Our own borders were left weakened for you and these horse-lords, and we cannot sacrifice the safety of the Golden Wood for you any longer. Our very presence here is a gift of the Lady; do not try to take more from us than you were given."
Aragorn stepped back, his dark eyes narrowing. Orophin did not flinch under his gaze, and both stood, eyes locked, tense and alert for any sudden movement on the other's part. A hush settled over those gathered as they watched the proud blond elf-captain contest the will of the dark-haired Lord of the Rangers, and soon the only sound was the snaps and crackles of the struggling fire in the courtyard.
The tension in the room reached its peak, and at that moment both dropped their gaze. Aragorn's shoulders sagged, but he nodded slowly. "You are right, you must return to the Wood. We thank you for your help, Captain Orophin. And..." He looked hesitant, like he wanted to say something important, but Orophin didn't want to hear it. It would be some sentimental condolence for his loss that Orophin knew he couldn't take; how could a mere mortal like Aragorn understand the impact Haldir had had on lives all around him, especially those of his brothers?
Orophin bowed stiffly but formally and swept out of the room without a word, Rúmil following after exchanging a few last words with the leaders in that room. As he glided down the many stairs and through the hallways out to where his people waited, Orophin realized that nothing would be more welcome then to leave this place of death and return to the Wood where, maybe for just a while, the hatred and destruction of the outside world could be held at bay, and Light was allowed to live on for just a little longer before the world was swallowed in darkness.
Orophin stepped forward after an impatient glance from his brother. "A moment, my lords..." He choked on the title, unwilling to call any mere mortal "Lord." "We cannot stay longer. The Lord and Lady desire our return, and we have many comrades to bury and homes to protect."
The King Théoden looked up, triumphant weariness shining in his eyes. "Captain Orophin, if you would bury your dead, a place can be found among-"
"Your pardon, King Théoden," Orophin interrupted shortly, "but I will not lay any to rest here, in a realm of Men. We will return to Lothlórien tomorrow before the Sun rises."
One stepped from the far end of the group, and Orophin recognized the tall dark shape of Aragorn. When the Man spoke, his voice was tinged with compassion. "Orophin o Lórien, we may yet still need your help. If you would stay but a few days longer and continue with us-"
Orophin drew himself up, anger flaring in him. "Lord Aragorn, over half of those that came here under my brother, including their captain, have fallen for the sake of your people and those of Rohan. Our own borders were left weakened for you and these horse-lords, and we cannot sacrifice the safety of the Golden Wood for you any longer. Our very presence here is a gift of the Lady; do not try to take more from us than you were given."
Aragorn stepped back, his dark eyes narrowing. Orophin did not flinch under his gaze, and both stood, eyes locked, tense and alert for any sudden movement on the other's part. A hush settled over those gathered as they watched the proud blond elf-captain contest the will of the dark-haired Lord of the Rangers, and soon the only sound was the snaps and crackles of the struggling fire in the courtyard.
The tension in the room reached its peak, and at that moment both dropped their gaze. Aragorn's shoulders sagged, but he nodded slowly. "You are right, you must return to the Wood. We thank you for your help, Captain Orophin. And..." He looked hesitant, like he wanted to say something important, but Orophin didn't want to hear it. It would be some sentimental condolence for his loss that Orophin knew he couldn't take; how could a mere mortal like Aragorn understand the impact Haldir had had on lives all around him, especially those of his brothers?
Orophin bowed stiffly but formally and swept out of the room without a word, Rúmil following after exchanging a few last words with the leaders in that room. As he glided down the many stairs and through the hallways out to where his people waited, Orophin realized that nothing would be more welcome then to leave this place of death and return to the Wood where, maybe for just a while, the hatred and destruction of the outside world could be held at bay, and Light was allowed to live on for just a little longer before the world was swallowed in darkness.