Haldir said a word that made Frodo giggle and Sam turn red. He had no time to consider what their reactions might say about either of them, because the reason he said it was that the swarm of orcs had almost reached the level they were on and no one had come yet to stop them.

"We are about to be overtaken. We can hide, or we can run. Your choice."

"Let's hide," cried Sam.

"We should run," said Frodo.

And then the battering came against the door. It was about to burst open and neither of those was any longer an option. Haldir reached under the cot he had been sleeping on since arriving in Minas Tirith and pulled out his sword. He had not allowed it to be more than an arm's length away since Helm's Deep.

"Under the cot," Sam said. "We're small enough to fit."

"No," said Haldir, "Go out the window. There is a thick ledge."

He lifted up Frodo by his tunic and shoved him out onto it. Sam scrambled after him, leaving Haldir to follow. The door was kicked open before he could join the hobbits, and he knew that if he went after them now, he would only call attention to the hidden halflings. He would have to fight for as long as he could and hope that Legolas hurried back.

He got back into the corner to protect his back, and swung as they bore down on him. Back and forth, left and right, Haldir hacked and slashed at the orcs until the bodies formed a thick, grotesque wall around him. More orcs kept coming. Was he fighting the whole hundred alone? Already he was tiring. He wanted to close his eyes and let it all go away with one slice of a blade. He felt the cold breath of despair on his soul that it should end like this. At least he had been able to say goodbye to Legolas.

Then came a shout from the doorway. Relief flooded Haldir as he recognized the war cry of Lord Glorfindel. He existed only for these sort of odds, Haldir thought, and a haze of red flowed in an explosion from the portal as Glorfindel slashed his way in. New adrenalin flooded Haldir's veins and the will to live pushed again to the fore.

"Need some help, Captain?" he called out jovially.

"Not at all," Haldir ground out, still swinging his sword, kicking bodies aside with his booted foot.

"You are not starting to tire, are you?"

"Certainly not. To your left, Councilor."

Glorfindel slashed down the orc to his left without looking, working his way to Haldir through the throng. A moment later, Legolas appeared in the doorway behind him. He was covered in greenish-black blood, filthy with it, and even from here Haldir could see he was caught up in battle lust.

"Haldir!"

"Fight now, talk later," Glorfindel called, swinging his sword in a graceful arc, sending a decapitated head flying up in the air.

"You are talking," Haldir pointed out, scanning the room. They had almost cleared it. "Right, Legolas!"

"Yes, you are right," Legolas said automatically, killing the orc that Haldir had actually been indicated.

Glorfindel threw his tawny head back and laughed. It bothered Haldir that he was taking so much pleasure in this. Haldir knew it had galled him to stay at Rivendell with Elrond and Erestor rather than marching to Helm's Deep, and no doubt he would have been an asset there. Still, that was no excuse, in Haldir's book, for taking such joy in death.

"Princeling, you are charming. No wonder the marchwarden was so quick to lead troops to Helm's Deep for your aid."

"He did not come for me," Legolas insisted modestly. "He came for Aragorn, for Theoden, for the sake of the future of the world."

"You give him too much credit," Glorfindel simpered and Haldir felt a cold anger wash over him even though the War Councilor of Imladris was not far from the mark.

"Hold your tongue, or I will take off your head and blame it on the orcs," Legolas hissed.

"Legolas, it would not be worth the trouble," Haldir sighed. He lowered his sword. He could still hear the hiss and clang of swords in the courtyard outside the Houses of Healing. Glorfindel slipped over to the prince, clapped him amiably on the shoulder, and looked out.

"They almost have finished them," he said. "Ai, King Elessar fights like a—"

Before he could finish, Aragorn appeared in the doorway, as bloody as Legolas, his ceremonial robes filthy. He nodded to Glorfindel and Legolas.

"Nobody has seen Sam and Frodo," he said urgently.

"We're right here, sir," said Sam, peeking in the window. He and Frodo were still perched precariously on the ledge. "Is it all right if we come back in now, Captain Haldir, sir?"

"Haldir?" said Aragorn, as if noticing him for the first time. Haldir turned and brought Sam and Frodo back into the room. Sam's big feet slipped and skidded in the black orc blood and he looked ill. The two hobbits ran to the king, who embraced them, checked to see that they were well, then turned to Haldir. "I thought you were lost at Helm's Deep," he said. "Mellon nin, you are a great hero."

The king bowed low to Haldir, and Haldir could not help but feel the greatest respect for him. He would take good care of Lady Arwen, Haldir knew, and that meant much more to him than he might ever reveal. He had know Galadriel's grand-daughter since she was born, and she had been a friend. He wondered if she, too, thought he was dead.

Legolas sheathed his sword, even though it still dripped, and flew across the room. He flung his arms around Haldir's neck even as Aragorn watched. Glorfindel chuckled wickedly.

"You are my great hero, as well," said Legolas.

Aragorn expressed mild surprise. "I did not know that you—" he began, but then cut himself off for the sake of propriety. "Come then, friends. We will all wish to get cleaned up, and I would get back to Arwen. Haldir, come, let me present you to the court. I would have everyone raise a glass to you. There are others who will wish to see you as well, who will find joy in knowing you live."

"It is said that no elf survived Helm's Deep," Glorfindel commented as they made their way out of the room, now stacked with elf bodies.

"The number was very small," Haldir said sadly, the thought overwhelming him. He bowed his head. Aragorn put a hand on his back, offering consolation. Legolas stayed quietly at his other side. Haldir's old wound screamed then, pain slicing through his midsection so that he sucked in a breath. It hurt so badly.

"Are you hurt?" Legolas said instantly, feeling Haldir stiffen.

"It is the old wound. I will be all right."

"You need to rest."

"Later."

The moment they entered the corridor, they were surrounded by Men clamoring to make sure their king was well. Gimli pushed his way forward.

"How did this happen?" the dwarf shouted. He was holding an orc head by its sparse hair in one hand, a bloody axe in the other. "How did these foul beasts get in here?"

"Well, someone let you in," Glorfindel drawled.

"Would you like an axe to the groin?" Legolas asked pleasantly as Gimli nodded in accord.

"Not before you have seen it," the War Councilor purred.

"Go ahead, Gimli," Haldir said wearily. He leaned against the Prince of Mirkwood, hurting too much to care if he looked weak.

Gimli stared at him, blinking. "Master Haldir! You—"

"Yes, yes, I am alive. I trust you are not too disappointed."

"Quite the opposite! Why, Legolas has done naught but grieve day and night fer your loss, laddie. He'll be far more pleasant company now. By the stars, it is good to see you!"

"Now there is something I never thought I should hear you—" Haldir began, but a bolt of pain made him unable to complete the sentence.

Moments later, the world went black.