Many thanks to Orithain for the beta.
Spoilers for LotR: The Two Towers, movieverse.
The Not-So-Pretty Truth
Haldir, marchwarden of the Golden Wood, could safely say that this was the worst day of his life. What made everything so much worse were all the lies that had been spread already. He knew the truth about what had really happened, and he wasn’t afraid to tell all.
“So we Elves marched to Helm’s Deep to aid the Men. All that garbage about alliances not being forgotten was what Lord Elrond - the pillock! - told me to say. He said it would wow King Theoden because Men tended to be stupid.
“We went because Lord Elrond and Lady Galadriel wanted to get rid of some of the … how can I put this diplomatically…” Haldir gathered his thoughts and tried to find a tactful way to use some of the Half-Elven’s more colorful phrases. “Some of the, er, dead wood they wanted to trim from the forest.”
He snorted in disgust. “And I wound up leading this army of rejects and morons into battle because the Lady knew that her Lord preferred my homely talan to her warm bed.” This time Haldir laughed at the memory. He would have liked to have seen the Lady’s face, even though he could well imagine it. “Even though both our bodies be long and lean and golden, my Lord much prefers the fleshly pleasures that can be given to him as well as given away. Something a Sindarin marchwarden can manage that a Noldorian princess cannot.
“She wanted only to be rid of me.
“And have my Lord all to herself again.
“She ordered me to lead the attack, and I dared not refuse, not openly.” Haldir’s voice was sad, filled with the memories of the last time he’d seen Celeborn. “Nor could my Lord speak against his Lady, not during these times. Now, more than ever, we needed to remain as one people undivided.
“There was nothing I could do, but prepare to leave for Helm’s Deep.
“And for my death there.”
Haldir sighed.
“But there were some good things about the journey itself,” he added, in an effort to lighten the mood again. His audience had gotten all depressed, and he didn’t want that.
“It didn’t take us very long to get to where we were going, not by horseback. But, see,” Haldir waved a graceful hand at the Elf nearest him who nodded in understanding, “we didn’t want to show up at Helm’s Deep right away. Not only would that be rude, but there’s also a simply ludicrous number of Orcs headed that way, everyone knows that.
I hadn’t even realized there were that many Orcs in all of Middle Earth. Now suddenly the entire lot of them had gotten their act sorted, all at the same time, and decided to go to Helm’s Deep?” Haldir privately wondered if perhaps the Orcs had planned a party but had neglected to mention the place, date, and time to King Theoden. After all, Orcs had even fewer manners than Men did.
“Why the Orcs or whoever is trying to topple the Rohirrim, though, I certainly don’t understand. A primitive people, even for Men.” Haldir paused to let some of his audience laugh. They obviously shared his opinion of the Secondborn, regardless of what Iluvatar thought.
“We stopped at a particular place, one that we’d agreed on beforehand, so that my so-called army would have a chance to properly prepare. We sent the horses back to the Golden Wood, so it would look like we’d marched the whole way. That had been the pillock’s idea, too.
“Of course, he’d probably spent most of the past two millennia mooning over Gil-Galad and that lost opportunity, the great git. Last Alliance, ha! He only wished it had been a bonding proposal instead of a war over a cursed ring.
“Although as far as I’m concerned there’s not that much of a difference, really.
But that’s just my opinion.”
Haldir ignored the buzzing in the back row. This was his story, and he was the one telling it. If they didn’t like it, tough. “Anyway, we’d just sent the horses on their merry way, and settled down when dinner arrived. Great timing, I must admit.” Grudgingly, of course. “We’d had it catered, naturally. The Lady’s magic has to be good for something besides scaring the piss out of Hobbits. We dined on roast venison, vegetables, fruit, fresh bread, and wine.
“Lots of wine.
It was a wonderful dinner.”
It was a wonderful memory, too. A few others near the marchwarden seemed to get caught up in their own memories of past feasts, and sighed at the thought of such … indulgence. “No one really eats lembas unless they have no choice.” Haldir directed a pleading expression at his audience. “All of you know what it tastes like - like dirt mixed with ashes.”
Most of the room agreed with that statement. A few other suggestions were made to the room at large, but Haldir ignored them. After all, he was the one telling this story. “Lembas is just for show, because it makes us look good.
“Looking good is what it’s all about.”
There was general agreement in the room at that statement, too.
“Which was why, after some sleep and some entertainment -“
A mumbled question from his left stopped Haldir in his tracks. “What do you mean, what kind of entertainment?” He raised an eyebrow in shock. “We’re all adult Elves here, surely we can be candid about this subject.” After an appropriate pause, since all the best storytellers did that for dramatic effect, he continued, “Sex, of course.”
A rumble of agreement followed this time. The audience approved, not that Haldir really cared what they thought.
“The only problem as far as I was concerned was that I didn’t particularly want to fuck any of them. I wanted my Celebear, which wasn’t going to happen. Making matters worse was that I had to listen to those idiots whine, moan, and complain about all those other idiots. You should have heard it,” Haldir played it up for all it was worth, “’Oh, that Durel is such a slut! Can you believe he would sleep with that bitch Lalaith and me? Whine, whine, whine!” He paused dramatically, still playing it up in character, “I wonder if he would do a threesome?” Haldir threw his hands up in disgust and resignation. He wasn’t even sure which he felt more.
“Honestly! And I had to listen to this over and over and over again. I’ll wager none of you had this problem. Of course not.” Haldir drummed his fingers against the wooden table in frustration. He was certain some of the audience members were now snickering at him, but he was determined to be professional about this … this indignation. He was not going to besmirch his reputation for keeping his calm or his temper.
“Of course I changed my mind about sex in a hurry when Aragorn showed up.” Haldir shook his head in amazement. “I still don’t understand how he managed to find us, but I suppose it must have something to do with him having been raised by Elves. Amazing how the right environment can do wonders for even the most primitive people. It makes even a Man somewhat tolerable.”
The Elves closest to Haldir looked doubtful at that, but he ignored them. He was good at ignoring others; it was a skill he’d perfected as marchwarden. Besides, this was his story, damn them to Sauron’s left testicle. “Aragorn came riding up, all sopping wet, blubbering something or other about an Orc and a Warg and the river and how cold he was.” He shrugged. “None of it made any sense to me, and I honestly didn’t care anyway. I told him to shut up and kiss me.”
Haldir smirked. “For a Man whose destiny is to be king, he certainly follows orders well.”
That got plenty of laughs.
“He left, when I was done with him, mumbling about having to get back before the others thought he was dead. I really didn’t pay much attention to it at the time … but I’ll come back to that later. Right then, I had a bigger problem: it was time to start getting ready to leave.”
Now Haldir sighed in earnest. He remembered all too well the chaos that had been caused by the preparation. It had been madness. “Now that we’d eaten and rested, it was time to make sure we all looked good for our grand entrance. Everyone got in standard formation, you know,” he glanced at the audience, “a circle, so everyone could help everyone else. We polished each other’s armor and did each other’s hair. I listened to a hundred-and-fifty versions of ‘Haldir, tell me the truth: does this armor make me look fat?’”
He dropped his head into his hands. “War is hell.”
Most of the audience agreed with that statement, also.
“We got to Helm’s Deep, and it all went down slick like a Dwarf on ice. The Rohirrim practically fell at our feet. It would have all been perfect - aside from this whole Orc-Ring-return-of-Evil-to-Middle-Earth deal, of course - except for one thing.
Well, one thing, besides the Dwarf.”
Haldir smirked again. He liked to do that. This was the best part of the story. “Legolas knew that Aragorn’d attended our dinner party while he was supposed to be dead - or something like that, according to what I overheard - and didn’t even bring him along as his date. Worse yet, Aragorn’d been with me while he was there. Apparently, the Man Destined To Be King had been having it off with me, Lord Elrond’s only daughter, and Mirkwood’s best archer.” The marchwarden leered at his laughing and highly appreciative audience. “Now I don’t know if you’ve seen Legolas or not, but I certainly wouldn’t mind slipping my arrow into his quiver or vice versa.
“That Elf is fine.
“But, right now, the prince from Mirkwood wanted to strangle the Not Quite King because he knew exactly what the Man had done simply because the Man had figured no one would know. I heard them arguing; it wasn’t hard, probably the whole fortress heard them arguing, but only the Elves that were there understood the conversation.”
Haldir remembered it all very well. He’d had no idea that a prince of such a royal house could have such a filthy mouth or such a bad temper. It also sounded like some very expensive crockery of some kind had been broken and over Aragorn’s head, no doubt. Eavesdropping had been interesting as well as informative.
At least he hadn’t seen the need to take notes, like some of the other Elves had done. What a bunch of losers. Haldir rolled his eyes in a very un-Elf-like way.
“Apparently Legolas and Aragorn had been fighting ever since the Man returned miraculously from the dead. It’s no shock to us why, given what we know about what really happened. And, then, well, Aragorn has to pick the worst time to bring stuff up, in the middle of a battle, of all places? He couldn’t have waited until after?
“Aragorn yelled at me, Legolas yelled at him, I yelled at him, and Orc’s-your-uncle, I was on my merry way here.”
Haldir was annoyed.
“All in all, it was a rotten way to end the day. Plus, I think it was raining.”
His audience within the Halls of Mandos was definitely appreciative. Good. Haldir had plenty of stories to tell, and they had plenty of time.
All the time in the World.
THE END
Don't forget to feed the Muses!