The knife slipped in cleanly, and Haldir felt his life ebb from him. Aragorn came to him then, in that last moment, and held him as he passed beyond.
"One stab wound, and you're done?!" came the outraged male voice. Looking around, Haldir spotted Boromir. Boromir!? But he was supposed to be dead! So was Gandalf, come to think of it, but he was a wizard and wizards did that sort of thing! Not Men. Men died. They didn't *go* anywhere, and they certainly didn't come back from wherever it was they didn't go. "You're dead." The elf finally stammered.
"I'm not dead I just fell over." Boromir crossed his arms over his chest, or tried to, as the arrows that killed him were still lodged there. "I thought elves were made of stronger stuff." He stepped forward, the ends of his arrows poking Haldir's armor. "Count 'em, elfboy." He began 'twanging the arrows. "One ... two ... three. THREE arrows to the chest, and I didn't die for another twenty minutes. Hell, I may even have pulled through if Monkeyboy down there-" he gestures irritably at the still fighting Aragorn. "Hadn't decide to get all mushy on me."
"I've been alive a lot longer than you, you know," Haldir protested. "I just ... felt like dying." He drew himself up to his full height, looking down hs considerable nose at Boromir.
"Sure, that's why you volunteered for a suicide mission and wore a giant red cloak that says HIT ME I'M THE LEADER .... Oh."
The two turned and watched the battle for a moment, before Haldir spoke. "So what the hell are you doing here?"
"Beats me."
