Note to readers: All quotes encased in ** for quotation marks have been said in Elvish.
Chapter One: Despair"Farmers, ferries, stable boys…." Aragorn said tossing the sword aside. "These are no soldiers." He was about to add that the King Theoden needed them now, more than ever, but the dwarf spoke first.
"Most have seen too many winters…"
"Or too few," Legolas finished for him.
Aragorn looked at them in surprise. Both their voices sounded uncharacteristically bitter.
He had meant to strengthen and encourage them. He seemed to have enhanced their despair instead.
He was about to say something that sounded more encouraging when Legolas said suddenly, "They're frightened. You can see it in their eyes."
Aragorn nodded, feeling more and more mystified. Legolas never, never, NEVER showed despair. Not in all their years of acquaintance, not once. He watched as his fried turned away from him. He heard the men around them cease talking, and turn to watch.
*And they should be, * Legolas said, still facing the wall. Aragorn winced at the skepticism in his voice. He turned and faced Aragorn again. *Three hundred…against ten thousand?!*
*They have more hope here than they did at Edoras. *
*Aragorn, you know they cannot win this war. They are all going to die! *
"Then I shall die as one of them!" Aragorn shouted, his frustration and doubt getting the better of him. He strode out of the hall, elbowing the watching men aside in his haste.
Behind him he heard the dwarf pacify Legolas, who seemed to have started after him, "Let him go, lad. Let him be."
Aragorn slumped, discouraged, on a stone staircase sitting on the edge so as not to be in the way.
Where are my courageous friends? He thought. What has become of their once undying valor that they are so quick to despair? And Legolas? I may not know the dwarf as well as I think I do, but my years of acquaintance with the elf are long. There is no excuse for him. He is generally more optimistic. Even when his dear cousin died he refused to shed a tear until he was alone. And now…he shook his head, his thoughts distracted by the sight of a young lad not far from him, clad in a big coat of armour and an over-large helmet, looking at the unsheathed sword in his hand with uncertainty and doubt.
"Give me your sword," Aragorn said impulsively, for he was intrigued by the uncertainty on the boys face.
The boy came up to him and handed him the sword.
"What is your name?" Aragorn asked.
"Haleth, son of Hama, my lord. Th-the men are saying we will not live out the night. They say that it is hopeless." The boy sounded distraught. Obviously the "men" were high in his esteem.
Aragon's brow furrowed in consternation. "The men are saying?" he wondered. How strange that these men, who are so high in the boy's esteem, should express their despair about the first battle he is to fight in, when they know that their views will shape a good part of his. First Legolas, and now this…
Aragorn tested the sword, making a few neat cuts in the air. It was light and the blade was sharp.
"This is a good sword," Aragorn said handing the sword back to the boy and putting his hand on his shoulder, "Haleth son of Hama, there is always hope."
The boy nodded gratefully, reassured, and made his way off. Aragorn rose and went to find a room that was empty where he could change.
~ ~*~ ~
The shroud of tense silence was enough to unnerve even the Lady Eowyn as she sat against the wall of one of the central caves. The place was more secluded than others and she had some amount of privacy.
She had retired here after checking that all the women and their children were in the safety of the caves and no lad above fourteen remained. It had wretched her heart to quarrel with so many loving mothers and see the frightened faces of the young boys.
If I could take your places and fight, she thought, then I would do so with no hesitation. If I were able, I would spare your mothers this pain. Oh how I wish I were a man…
It was not the first or last time she had wished this. She had always wanted to be male. When she was young she had been so tomboyish…she smiled in remembrance. Her mother had despaired of her ever acting like a girl. She had played with Eomer all sorts of vigorous games and at that time she had been treated no differently than Eomer. Then a rift began to form. She and Eomer grew more to be brother and sister and less to be boisterous playmates. Eomer started playing with other boys. Everything changed. She hated it. She was never at liberty to be herself. She had lived like this for so many years that she had almost gotten used to it. Almost, but not quite.
"Waahhh! Waahhh!" a baby began to cry. Its mother whispered soothing words to it and pacified it.
The lady next to her also began to cry slightly. She said to the mother, "You are so lucky, Amy, that your son is yet so small. Mine is fifteen and out there, preparing for battle. It is so awful…I wish I were you."
"Do not wish too hard, lest it come true, Elsie. You are far luckier than I. Your husband is eighty-six and hence he is not at war. Mine…mine…" Amy shrugged her shoulders and gestured towards the outside of the Deep and wiped a tear from her eye.
"Oh but you…" started Amy but Eowyn had heard enough. She stepped out of her corner and said to the two ladies, " We are all giving our loved ones up to this war and it is likely we will all lose someone that we love. Will there be any comparison then whose loss is greater? Be brave, Amy and Elsie, for their sakes. Consider yourselves lucky that you are women and not out in that madness." She almost smiled at how ironic she was being.
"S-sorry, my Lady," Amy apologized. Elsie nodded in agreement.
Eowyn retired to her corner. For the first time it struck her how strange it was that all the women were acting so selfishly. It was a strange sentiment, but she felt that with the coming of war, strange things happened in the minds of people. There were always some people who put a brave face about it and acted as if they were glad to send their sons and husbands to serve the king. It was merely an act, but others drew strength from it, and it benefited all. There had been a marked absence of these people, except perhaps for one distinguished man….
She sighed as she rose to resolve yet another argument that had sprung up among the women. It was going to be a weary night.
~ ~*~ ~
Aragorn did up the buttons of his jacket, over his court of armor. He was ready except for…
He turned to find his sword and found Legolas right behind him holding it up. He smiled and nodded his thanks.
"You have led us this far and we have not gone astray. Forgive me. I was wrong to despair."
The smile immediately left his face. Legolas did not seem sorry for despairing but sorry for angering him. This was not like Legolas. He never gave apologies on the basis of identity. In fact, it struck him, Legolas rarely gave apologies at all.
He saw Legolas watching him intently, he forced a smile onto his face and said, *there is nothing to forgive.* And he truly meant it. As the evening went by, he saw many instances of despair. Even on the King Theoden's face. He refused to believe it was a coincidence.
As he stood on the outer wall of the Hornburg, preparing for battle, he remembered his own words of a few days ago, " Some evil shadows this land, sets its will against us." And suddenly he knew. This has something to do with Saruman, he thought. There is no other explanation. So much despair from so many unlikely people…there cannot be so many co-incidences at one time. Oh Saruman, the trouble you cause us…
A sudden clap of thunder distracted him from his thoughts. The clap of thunder had followed a bolt of lightning, which had illumined the entire vicinity. He gasped in awe and horror to see before him the multitude of orcs. He set his will against them and steeled himself for battle. He would have to overcome Saruman, he decided. There was no other way that they would survive the war without their hopes.