Chapter 3
A thunder of hooves echoed across the plains as Legolas and his escort galloped through Rohan. Legolas only gave short rests in between. He had been eager to push the horses, wanting to reach Edoras as quickly as possible. He had no wish to come across any unfriendly Men who wished them harm, and every passing moment felt wasted before reaching Rohan.
Sun rose as dawn broke out. Colors of pink, red and blue splashed across the sky. The birds of the plains were awakening, and small sounds of chirps broke into the silence.
"I have said it before and I will say it again." Dorián called over the sound of the hooves. "It is a beautiful morning."
"Indeed," another Elf replied. "And the beauty of the sunrise is unhindered in a land like this."
It was true. Legolas looked about as he led his horse, avoiding the sharp rocks and preferring the grass. The sun could be seen rising, its light bathing the grass in gold. The lands were different here. The cold felt different here. Back home, the cold came in sharp gusts of wind, biting and cutting. Here, the cold was not as severe.
They had stopped once the sun was fully raised. The Elves had once offered to stop by a town and buy some supplies but Legolas had refused the offer. "Nay," Legolas had said firmly. "I forbid it." He had not explained further, but Fion did it for him, much to his relief. The veteran told the Elves that they were few in number, and if any of the unfriendly kind would try to have, ah, advantage over one of them, they could do little to help. Once the Elves knew the reason, they subsided.
Legolas was starting to grow tenser as they neared Edoras. He was worried for Éomer's reaction and what he could do once he saw Rohan's situation.
"Stop thinking about it when there is nothing that can be done!" Fion had snapped angrily once when they had stopped for a rest. "Continue in this fashion any longer and you just might work up a headache."
"He is his father's son." One of the Elves said dryly. "He won't stop worrying until whatever he is worrying about is finally over."
"I will tell father what you said about him." Legolas told him. The Elf only shrugged.
"Everyone says that about him."
It was a second day in Rohan and they were only a few hours away from Edoras. Legolas was tense as a bowstring and his escort understood his mood. The Elves wisely checked their horses, leaving Fion with Legolas. The former mentor knew Legolas' moods. He understood how to start a conversation with the Prince.
"It is strange that we have not yet met any of the soldiers." Fion commented casually, indicating the empty plains.
"It was not so when we first came here." Legolas replied bitterly. "Éomer had not wasted any time in almost beheading me."
A hand shot out, grabbing hold of Legolas' reins and pulling them. Surprised, Legolas' horse, Arod, jerked to a stop. "What the- Fion! Your hand could have been injured!" Legolas cried, half-shocked at the veteran's daring move and half-angry that he had risked. Fion, on the other hand, seemed unfazed at the scolding.
His escort had not been fast enough to stop their fast-moving horses just behind them. They maneuvered the horses around the two riders. Legolas dimly heard Dorián's angered protests but his eyes were only focused on Fion.
"Are you not too quick to judge?" Fion asked grimly. "Tell me, if thy father banished thee under the pain of death, renounced thee in front of all who knew thee, would thy have been more welcoming than this king when he first met thee? What of those dark times? Your father once nearly put an arrow through an ally whom he once considered an enemy. Do not be so quick to judge others. They have done what was best in those times. The past is of no concern to the present. Make sure that ye remember that! And learn to help this young king without any grudges!"
"But that is where my problems lie. How will I help this kingdom? I know nothing of the ways of men."
"Then make sure ye learn their ways!" Fion answered briskly.
Legolas nodded several time slowly before letting a grin form. "That is all?" Legolas asked, his eyes glinting in mischief. "There was a time when such scolding was accompanied by threats of spanking. I do believe that my former mentor is getting soft. Must be his old age…"
Legolas dug his heels into his horse and shot off, his mentor following close behind. The veteran shouted threats at the fleeing prince, who neatly dodged the furious elf. Dorián and the others followed at a much slower pace, chuckling at the entertainment.
The game continued for the next few miles, and by that time they had neared the city.
The Elves, who were laughing only a few moments ago, schooled their faces to polite grimness. They were, by nature, merry folk but only in the company they were comfortable in.
Legolas slowed his horse to a steady walk as they neared the gates, his escort doing the same. The wooden gates opened, letting them enter. Legolas wondered if he would be recognized. After all, he had been wearing the grey garments of Lothlórien when he came to Edoras the last time, but now he was wearing the black and green of Mirkwood with flowing sleeves and-
"Well, I'll be! Legolas!"
I stand corrected, Legolas thought wryly. Looking down at his side, he recognized Éothain walking beside his horse. The burly Rider grinned at the eye contact. Reaching up, he took Legolas's reins from him and led the horse inside. Looking behind him, Legolas could see the Rohirrim doing the same for the other elves. It was a symbol of hospitality the riders showed for the elves.
They stopped in the middle of the clearing. Legolas dismounted, and his feet had barely touched the ground when Éothain swept him up in a bear hug.
"Legolas!" Éothain roared happily, thumping the slim elf on his back in the process. "It is good to see you, my friend." Legolas winced at the impact.
"Éothain," Legolas said weakly as he tried to pull away. "Truly, the strength of the Rohirrim is not exaggerated."
Éothain understood the jibe and grinned as he released the Elf. The Rider stepped away, not the least upset. Legolas straightened his tunic, which had gone askew. From the corner of his eye, he watched with amusement as Fion was subjected to the same treatment. Dorián, who had guessed what was coming, cleverly evaded any onslaught.
"Well, what are you doing here? It has been long year. Why the sudden visit?" The burly Rider narrowed his eyes at the Elf and understanding dawned on his face. "Ah, Lady Éowyn's work." Éothain muttered.
"She did what she thought was right." Legolas commented defensively.
"That she did, no doubt. But still, 'tis will not be easy. Éomer hasn't been like himself."
"How so?"
"He barely takes parts in our councils, leaving us to decide for ourselves. Of course, he rarely takes part in anything these days. Éomer spends most of his time in his rooms, drinking heavily and without restraint. We tried to speak sense to him, but it was in vain."
Legolas frowned at the news. This was much more serious than Legolas originally thought. For a well-run country it was necessary for the sovereign to take part in the affairs himself. If he does not, and lets his advisors do the work for him, there will be cracks in the government. Worse, corrupted fools would drink the country dry of its wealth and by the time there is help (if any), it would be too late.
"I must write to Lady Éowyn as soon as possible." Legolas murmured. Éothain's thick eyebrows snapped together in confusion. "Write to her? Why?"
It was Legolas' turn to look confused. "She is married to Lord Faramir, is she not? Surely she resides in Ithilien?"
"Surely not!" Éothain roared, smiling. He threw his heavy arm around the Elf's slim shoulders and pulled him towards the steps with astounding strength. "Our White Lady is here with us! Come up and meet her!"
So poor Legolas half-walked and half-stumbled as he was dragged over the stairs by Éothain. He heard Dorián chuckling behind him. Blasted Elf, Legolas thought fleetingly, stumbling when he lost his focus. I will get him for this. His mind was already making plans for revenge.
Legolas was grateful when they finally skidded to a halt on the platform. He gained his balance and straightened, his escort following in a more dignified manner. And they were not alone.
A group of ladies stood at the doors of Meduseld, two of whom held trays of cups full of drink. And one stood in front of the group of ladies.
She was fair, and tall with a proud stance. Her hair flowed freely like a sheet of gold, gleaming in the sunlight. She seemed fragile but cold, unreachable. She was dressed in green and gold, making her look more regal and powerful. Her name was Éowyn, daughter of Éomund. She had slain the Witch-King of Angmar.
And suddenly she smiled. Legolas was brought straight out of the past. He reminded himself that all of that is behind them, and Lady Éowyn was no longer cold and indifferent as she once was.
Éowyn took up a welcoming cup from a nearby lady and offered it to the Prince. "Hail, Legolas Greenleaf, Prince of Mirkwood." She said. Such a soft voice for one who seemed so cold.
Legolas accepted the cup. Other ladies brought forward more cups and greeted the elves.
"It is good to see thee, my lady." Legolas murmured, returning the cup.
"As it is to see thee." Lady Éowyn returned. "I trust your journey went well."
Legolas fleetingly remembered his encounter with the Warg and Fion's constant cutting remarks over his wound and smiled. "As wonderful as a morning walk, my lady."
"That is good to know. With the War finished, it would be best that the travelling roads were no longer hindered by the enemy."
"But come," Lady Éowyn said finally, her skirts whirling about her as she turned for the door. "It would not do to leave our guests at the door while we can offer food and beds for rest inside."
As if the words were a sign, the ladies that had gathered dispersed, and left for the daily chores. Only the elves and Éothain followed the White Lady into the Golden Hall.
The hall showed some definite changes. The gilded pillars gleamed as if polished. A fire burned merrily in the center. The windows on the ceilings were open, letting in the fresh air and sunlight. The Golden all was well-named.
"This place looks better than I came here last." Legolas commented, observing the tapestries that hung at the sides. The first time Legolas had come to Edoras with his companions Aragorn, Gimli and Gandalf, the hall was too dark to make out the tapestries. Now, the light was more than enough, showing the fine details of the sceneries depicted on the rich cloth.
"It was time that Meduseld was restored to its former glory. There are still evidences of what we faced in the War," Éowyn added, looking disgusted. "Regardless, the hall should be renovated by coming winter."
"Some of these tapestries have become too old." Legolas said, his keen eyes quickly picking the old, faded colors and small signs of decay.
"Yes, we are working on refurbishing them." Éowyn said.
A nod towards a nearby maid sent her scurrying to prepare one of the many tables for the guests. Bowls and other cutlery were laid out for a meal.
"Are you overseeing the renovation yourself?" Legolas asked.
"Indeed," Éowyn moved to reply. "It is hard work, but we are seeing results."
Legolas heard a polite cough from Dorián, indicating the presence of the Elves behind him. Legolas hurried to say, "Let me introduce you to my escort." Indicating each Elf, Legolas introduced them to the Lady, who greeted each graciously. Fion was the last to meet her, and as the veteran stepped back, his eyes met Legolas' and an understanding passed between them. Fion had confirmed what Legolas had suspected. There was an air of contentment about the White Lady.
"It would seem that you will be expecting a new arrival in the coming winter, my lady." Legolas remarked. He noted in growing amusement when the Lady blushed. Then Éowyn held up her head in defiance and Legolas grinned. This was the shield-maiden indeed.
"My congratulations to you and Lord Faramir." Legolas continued, now softening.
"You may wish to take it easy from now on." Fion added kindly. Legolas kept his expression intact but inwardly, he smirked. The elves doted on children and soon, the Lady will come to realize, just how much.
"Unfortunately, I doubt it will be possible for me to 'take it easy'." Éowyn replied, her voice still gentle. "I am not the kind to sit idly when there is work to be done."
Éothain entered from one of the many doors opening into the hall. "I have just come from the kitchens informing them for a meal- what are those?" The Rider asked, surprised.
Legolas turned to see what the point of interest was. Two of his Elves had excused themselves and left to retrieve the hawks that had accompanied them on the journey. They had come back, with the two birds of prey settled calmly on their heavily padded arms. Unlike their brethren that lived in the mountains, these hawks had silver feathers instead of golden.
"Many strange animals reside in our forest of which these hawks are one." Legolas explained. "They intelligent, and have become our allies in times of need. They are our friends, companions in battle and when we need to gather information on our enemies."
"We will suffer no harm to our hawks." Fion added. Éothain nodded slowly, understanding the warning in the veteran's tone. Hawks were precious to the Mirkwood Rangers, as horses were to the Rohirric Riders.
"They will be well-provided for in our hall." Éowyn assured smoothly. Just then, one of the hawks glided over to Legolas and perched on his left shoulder. The hawk crooned softly as it nibbled playfully on the Prince's braid.
Éowyn hissed in surprise. "Does it not hurt?" She asked, indicating the sharp talons that sunk into the Elf's shoulder.
The Elves smiled and pulled back the collars of their shirts, showing the beginnings of a heavy padding. There was more on the left shoulder than on the right. "We teach them to sit on our left shoulders only." Legolas explained before adding, "Although, they sometimes forget." Too well Legolas did remember the excruciating pain when a forgetful hawk had sunk its claws into the wrong shoulder. It had been like sharp needles forcing their way into his flesh.
By this time, the ladies from the kitchens had brought hot food and cool drinks for the Elves. Occupying a nearby table, the Elves sat eagerly to eat. It was an excellent stew, though the spices were a bit too much for their taste. Warm bread that went with it had a hard crust and a soft center. Water went well for their dried throats.
For a while, there was only silence. Éowyn was a good host. She made sure their bowls never emptied and did not disturb their meal. Instead, she sat contently nearby, her thoughts elsewhere.
Legolas wiped the bowl clean with a small piece of bread and popped the morsel into his mouth. He pushed the bowl away as he chewed. The other elves were done as well and the servants quickly removed the dishes.
"Do you wish for more?" Éowyn asked.
"Nay!" Legolas replied. "We have eaten to our fill, I believe."
"Then let us return to the matters at hand."
"I have to say," Legolas started thoughtfully. "I had not expected to see thee here, my lady."
"What! And leave you here alone with my brother?" Éowyn said, suddenly laughing. "That would have been far too cruel of me. My brother is not the easiest person to speak to. I wanted to help where I could."
"If truth be told," Éowyn said after a short period of silence. "I had not planned to stay here after my marriage. When I spoke to King Elessar, I decided to leave once the request for your aid was sent. I came here to see what I could do, but as I said, my brother is stubborn. He did not take kindly to my aid. I was about to leave Edoras to return to my husband when I realized what you had realized." Éowyn said, absently massaging her middle. "I decided to stay and wait here, not wanting to risk travelling. I know I can, for it is still early. But I had no wish to endanger my life or the one I have."
"As for my brother. I cannot understand him. He had always been moody but his anger flares up for no reason. I had more than one fight with him, for trivial reasons."
"Well, nothing can be done unless I speak to him." Legolas commented reasonably. "But tell me; is there anything that you or the council expects of him?"
"Mainly that he should take his duties as the king." Éowyn answered. "And that he should marry."
"Nay," Legolas said, gently but firmly. "No marriage until his sober and his kingdom is stable."
"But marriage may help him recover his grief!" Éowyn protested.
"Or it may aggravate it." Legolas said, rubbing his temples. Maybe someday, he just might work up a headache as Fion had always joked about. "Grief works in strange ways, my lady. It would only add to his burden when he is barely keeping his country intact. Besides," Legolas added. "I have no wish to send the poor bride into a breaking kingdom with a," Legolas stopped. He was going to say 'a lumbering, foolish, half-drunken oaf for a husband' but realized that those words could only be used for a friend. Aragorn would certainly not mind.
"A husband who has too much on his mind already." Legolas substituted instead. There, that sounded civilized.
Éowyn tilted her head, considering the Elf's words. "I agree now that you have spoken as such." She replied slowly. "So what would you have us do?"
"I need to see Éomer." Legolas said, getting up on his feet. Éowyn got up as well.
"Éothain will take you to his chambers. But," The White Lady added. "You may not find him as you expected."
"Oh, that wouldn't be a problem, I assure you." Legolas replied smoothly.
Éowyn nodded towards Éothain, who came forward to guide the prince. Legolas turned to his companions, "Fion, Bregon and Dorián will come with me." Legolas said quietly. "The rest of you should help where you can. The ladies seem to have big plans for Meduseld. It would be best to lend a hand."
His companions nodded and got up for their respective tasks. Fion and Dorián stood by his side. Bregon, dark-haired and fair-skinned, stood by as well.
Legolas nodded towards Éothain. "Lead the way." The huge Rider gave a wide grin, and led them into the inner, more private regions of the Golden Hall.
Everywhere, there were carvings of horses and runes. The beauty of this ancient building lay in the intricate designs and the rich colors of the wall hangings and wood. Heads of horses were carved on every pillar, their eyes life-like.
Éothain led them to the door of the King's Chambers. The Rider turned to face Legolas and gave him a lopsided grin. He jerked his thumb at the door and said, "Here we are. Good luck to you."
Legolas winced. They both knew Éomer's temper. "I will need it." The Elf replied. Éothain grinned and turned to leave.
"Lady Winflead is waiting at the end of the corridor. Call her if you need anything, yes?" Éothain said over his shoulder. Legolas did not reply, as Éothain had already left.
"Well, let us get this over and done with." Legolas murmured and pushed open the door.
As soon as the door opened, an unpleasant smell greeted them. Fion hastily stepped back. "Blast!" The veteran exclaimed, wrinkling his nose in disgust. "You had not mentioned this, Legolas!"
Legolas had to agree. Taking a tentative step, the Elf entered the rooms cautiously, followed closely by his comrades.
The bedroom was dark, with closed windows and an extinguished fireplace. A limp figure lay against the wall. Coming close, Legolas recognized the large frame and the muscled limbs.
"Fool!" Legolas hissed, stepping forward. "What has he done to himself?"
"I cannot tell if he is even breathing." Bregon added most unhelpfully.
Dorián stepped forward, prodding the king gingerly with his foot. Much to their relief, the king grunted and turned over.
"Drunk," Dorián announced. "He is dead drunk."
"That is not wise for one so young." Fion commented. His voice was laced with disapproval. The Elves too loved to drink but it was highly discouraged to have too much drink when there was work to be done. "His kingdom is falling to pieces and here he is drunk! I thought you had said this man was sharp-witted, Legolas."
He was, so what had caused such a change? Legolas wondered. He had always remembered Éomer sober. He had not taken any drinks even in the celebrations of the battle of Helm's Deep, and even in the celebrations of the ending of war on the Fields of Cormellen.
Regardless, none of his questions will be answered if the king remained drunk and unconscious at his feet. Taking a glance around the room, Legolas pondered over his next action. As Fion had said, Legolas planned as the time passed. Suddenly coming up with an idea, the elf bounded to the main door. Opening it, the Elf called, "Winflead? Winflead!"
The housekeeper appeared and Legolas flashed his most disarming smile. The lady regarded him suspiciously. "What is it, lad?"
"The king is in dire need of a bath. Would you be so kind as to put out a bath for him?"
Winflead nodded, some of her suspicion washing out of her. As she turned to leave, Legolas added, "Oh and Winflead? There is no need to heat the bath."
There was a twitch around her lips that showed she knew what he was asking, but she said, "As you wish, my lord."
When she left, Fion exclaimed, "Boy, what do you think you are doing?"
Legolas did not answer, but quickly rolled his sleeves back. Pulling his hair out his braids, the Elf deftly re-braided them into one braid. He was about to pull out his knives when his eyes fell on Éomer's famed sword, Gúthwinë. Legolas winced. Maybe he should keep the blades.
"I suggest you three to do the same." Legolas said casually.
Fion sighed as he went to work. "When I am done with this mission, boy, I am leaving for the Undying Lands."
"Good, then I will be able to carry out my impulses in piece." Legolas replied cheekily.
Fion glared at his former student. "Just for that, I will not leave. But at the very least, open the windows!"
"You do realize this might get you into trouble over here." Dorián said, looking over his shoulder at Legolas. "I mean, what you are going to works splendidly if one of us gets drunk and we stay that way back home, but here, you won't be able to escape that easily."
"I do what I do best," Legolas said. "If Aragorn and Éowyn want my help, they will have to live with my rules."
"Valar help the ones Legolas have a mind of teaching them a lesson for having too much drink." Bregon commented.
Legolas had to agree. Soon, the curtains were pulled back and the windows were open. The air was fresh and light, and the room was no longer dark. In the adjoining chamber, Legolas could hear the preparations of a bath. Legolas caught the sight of the empty bottle of wine and curled his lip in distaste. Glancing to the other rooms, he could see the King's study and smaller rooms joined with the King's bedchamber. Catching the sight of the stack of papers on the King's desk, Legolas made a mental note to take a look of them.
Just then, Lady Winflead peered into the room, "The bath is ready, my lord."
"Thank you, my lady. We can manage."
Dorián looked at the burly king, who was still blissfully unaware of what was going to happen. "You are not really going to bathe him, are you?" Dorián asked dubiously.
"Nay," Legolas replied, laughing. "But I do plan to give him a shock. At least, let us take his shirt off."
They did so, and the four Elves took positions to carry the king to his awaiting bath.
"Now, remember." Legolas said as he kept a firm grip on the king's shoulders. "He has a fearsome temper-"
"The things you make me do as a friend." Dorián interrupted.
"He has a fearsome temper." Legolas repeated, his eyes glinting in merriment. "So when you drop him, remember to run."
They carried the king to the other room. The Elves kept a firm hold on the king's body as it hovered over the cold water in the bathtub.
"Remember to run." Legolas repeated.
Dorián, who could make a joke out of anything, said. "If this does not go according to plan, we will meet again in the Undying Lands."
Fion's lips twitched in amusement. "Aye, after all we will be dying for a just cause!"
"Funny," Legolas mumbled. "It is my life in line, not yours."
"Remember to run," Dorián reminded him, his shoulders shaking in mirth.
"Careful," Legolas warned. "You are losing your grip!"
"I am not the one who would be in trouble if I did!" Dorián answered.
"You are a treacherous lot to be called friends!" Legolas muttered under his breath.
"I thought you already knew?" Fion prodded.
"Just drop him!"
"As you wish!" The Elves chorused and let go of their burden. The body fell into the bathtub with a splash, instantly creating a pool on the stone floor. The Elves, surprisingly obedient to their prince's command, ran out of the door, leaving Legolas alone in the room.
If I die, I hope Aragorn lives a miserable life, Legolas thought fleetingly, turning back to the bathtub. He dropped his hand over the knife hidden in his boot as a thoroughly wet head emerged from the surface of the water.