Author's Note: Thanks to Die for Pie and Wollerosekaufn for reviewing! Also, to Samuel La Flame: Wow. You pretty much just told me exactly what I wanted Maelith to be! That was how I wanted her character to fit into the fold, and you nailed it! It's amazing! I'm so honored that you understood!
Also, this chapter is kind of a filler for Gandalf's time in Gondor, so it's full of memories and thoughts and questions. Hopefully, I'll give plenty of you answers you were looking for!
Chapter 12
"Who are you to carry the authority of the signet of the High King?" the silver haired king asked her flatly. His blue eyes bored into hers from beneath the tall silver crown laced with the red leaves of autumn. "Who are you to request the lives of my people?" he demanded, standing from his Elk antler throne beneath the ancient trees. "Who are you to demand I go to war?" All around the throne room stood the king's personal guard, draped in red and armed with dark bows and various blades. Each was clearly Silvan, some with red or auburn hair, others with light brown, and some even with pale gold. Their cold eyes, some green, some brown, were watching her every move.
"I am known by my people as Maelith of Lindon and I am the daughter of Gil-galad, High King of the Elves of Middle-Earth," she replied calmly. Her voice did not falter, nor did her gaze ever waver. One look from the king had the Elf standing beside the stairs walking towards her and she noticed that he was nearly identical to Oropher, the king before her.
"Your signet, please, Princess Maelith," the Prince of Greenwood requested quietly.
"Of course, Prince Thranduil," she replied, slipping the elegant, intricate ring off her right hand.
Glancing down at the silver ring on her right hand, she covered it with her other hand as she stood before the Golden Hall. Her blue eyes were fixed on the plains, watching as the white form of Shadowfax and Gandalf grew smaller in the distance. She knew Pippin was hidden in front of Gandalf, but she was not thinking of the little Hobbit. She was thinking instead of the fact that in her memory she had met Legolas's father when he was still the Prince. What had happened to his grandfather, King Oropher? What war had she requested he aid her in? Where was her father, King Gil-galad? And what had become of Lord Celebrimbor after she'd fled Eregion? What rings had she carried to her father?
Her memories might have begun to return, but she still knew nothing of her past. She knew she had lived in both Lindon and Eregion, but didn't know where those kingdoms were or what had happened to them. All she had was a name for her father, with no memories of him or what he was like. And now she had to explain to Legolas and Aragorn the memories that were returning, leaving her with more questions than answers.
Clouds rolled in across the sky around mid-day, but she did not look up. Instead she gazed out across the plains, seeing not grass and rivers but a battle fought long ago. Wind rippled across the field, drawing out the banners held aloft on either side. Black, gray, and orange flew high before the Black Gates of Mordor while above Maelith flew silver, blue, gold, green, and white. Silence fell like a blanket across the armies, and Maelith quickly looked around. She'd only just arrived to the Bagorlad fields, leading what beasts and Ents had followed her from Lorien.
To her left were the Dwarves. They stood with heavy axes and some swords ready, flying the brown banners of Moria. At their head stood Durin IV. Spread among them were a number of good beasts and the birds who'd answered Gil-galad's summons. Ents, furious with the destruction of the garden of the Ent-wives, were armed and ready for war.
Sauron's answer for the might of the Dwarves were the swarthy Easterlings beneath the gray banners. From Mordor he had created trolls to combat the magnificent strength of the Ents.
To her right were the Men. Beneath the white banner of Gondor were the Numenoreans, led by Elendil's son Anarion. The cream banner of Arnor drifted above the forces of Elendil and his elder son Isildur. Most of the humans were armed with swords, though the front lines bore spears and similar pole weapons.
Against them stood the Dark Numenoreans and their black flags.
Before her were the Elves. Beneath the green banner of Greenwood stood Oropher. His company was the lightest armed, with long knives instead of swords, though their bows were made of the darkest woods. Beside them flew the silver banner of Lorien. Amdir, their king, held command over the Galadhrim, who bore the tallest bows of light wood and long swords. Next came the solid blue banner of Rivendell. Elrond led those that had survived the fall of Eregion alongside the forces from Lindon, armed mostly with straight swords and spears and shields.
The Dark Lord knew well the greatness of the Elves. Orcs stood ready in overwhelming hordes beside the Haradrim archers. Orange banners of the desert flew above them.
But at the front of it all, where the silver banner of Lindon flew, stood the High King of Elves. Gil-galad had no idea what his daughter had done, but at the very rear of the force, three white horses had appeared. "How many strong do we stand?" Pethvain of Greenwood asked her prince.
"Over hundreds of thousands, but it is not yet half of the forces of Mordor," Thranduil, heir of the throne of Greenwood replied.
"Do the banners fly?" Canneth of Lorien turned to the prince on her other side.
"Gold and blue flies from end to end," Amroth, son of Amdir assured her.
"Then I must join my father. He must know we were successful," Maelith, Lady of Lindon, decided. "Go to your kings. Listen for the horn of the High King," she added. The two silver haired males nodded and turned their horses to ride away. Maelith watched them each disappear among their troops and spurred her horse forward. When she reached her father she slid from the saddle and called, "Ada?" He turned from the battle field, his bright silver eyes sad upon seeing her.
She felt his hand smooth over her braided hair before he pressed a kiss to her forehead and placed his own helm on her head. He wore his golden circlet, along with gold and blue armor. His shield was in his hand, his long spear, Aeglos, in the other. In a soft voice, one not trying to turn her from the battle, he told her, "They stand millions strong, my hope."
"What happened to you, Ada? Where are you?" she breathed into the wind. "Why can I not remember?"
"Maelith?" Legolas's voice stirred her from her perch. She turned to see him standing behind her, armed once more. "Are you alright?"
"Shadows grow in the South," she sighed. "Waiting for a signal that may never come is eating at my heart," she admitted.
"Come it will. Gandalf will not fail us," he assured her, stepping up to her side. The day had long sunk into night, twice now, and still Maelith had not left this spot. When he stood beside her, he understood why. From there he could see where Aragorn kept watch for the beacons of Gondor to be lit.
"Legolas, did your father ever tell you of the Battle of Dagorlad?" she asked after a long moment of silence.
"I have heard many stories of it, yes," he told her. One of his eye brows rose in surprise that she knew of the battle.
"I have a memory of the eve of the battle, when I stood beside your father, but of nothing afterwards. Same does it feel now. Upon the edge of battle we stand and yet we know not what will come," she explained.
"You fought in the Battle of Dagorlad?" he asked. That would make her older than him by hundreds of years at least.
"Remember only that I was there; I know not if I fought," the girl said, turning her face back towards the mountains as the sun rose over them. She closed her eyes, reveling in the warmth, then looked back at him. "There was a great silence for many hours. I stood at my father's side, his helm on my head, looking out at odds we should not have been able to beat," she sighed, her eyes dark with memory.
"Your father?" he asked quietly. There was an edge of curiosity to his voice that made her smile sadly. "Truly then, Sarumon destroyed your memory when he sent you away," he realized.
She nodded, then turned to look back at the mountains. "Let us return inside," she murmured after a moment. "Aragorn will let all of Edoras know when the beacon is lit," she smiled softly once more, throwing a fond look to where their friend sat in watch. Legolas nodded and opened the door for her, following as she joined Gimli and Merry at a table off to the side. At the front of the room, Théoden and his captains poured over maps and documents, but of what he did not care to know.
The sun had lit the Golden Hall when Aragorn threw open the doors with a crash. "The beacons of Minas Tirith!" he cried, running forward. Instantly Legolas was on his feet as the man cried, "The beacons are lit!" Maelith came to stand beside him, her cold fingers wrapping around his wrist as Aragorn ran up to Théoden and gasped, "Gondor calls for aid."
Eowyn moved from where she had sat beside Maelith to stand alongside her brother. Everyone in the hall was watching the king and the Elves fixed blue eyes on him in a challenge. "And Rohan will answer," Théoden told Aragorn. "Muster the Rohirrim!" he ordered Eomer. "Lady Maelith!" he called as the friends turned to run from the hall. She faced the king, expecting to be told she was not going, only for him to say, "Perhaps you should change from my niece's dress before you ride to war."
Maelith let out a bell like laugh, bringing smiles to the humans' faces before she nodded and hurried out. Eowyn was just behind her, hands flying down the laces of the dress as soon as the door closed behind her. She watched, laughing, as Maelith danced about the room, pulling on her cleaned leggings, shirts, socks, boots, tunic, cloak, and quiver. "Will you ride with us?" she asked the White Lady when she was done.
"I will not be allowed in battle, but I can ride to the encampment. There is a tradition for the women of the Court that I might use to get me there," Théoden's niece replied.
"Allowed or not, sure I am that you will find a way to ride with us," Maelith murmured. "I will pretend I know nothing of the sword you intend to smuggle out on your saddle," she added in a soft voice.
"Thank you," Eowyn sighed. The women shared a secretive grin as they hurried for the stables. Saddling their respective horses took little time, and Maelith helped Eowyn hide her sword beneath a blanket on her saddle.
Then she led Hasufel from his stall and moved up to Legolas's side. "Will you hold him? I must find Merry," she told her silver haired friend. He nodded, taking her reins and she slipped through the lines of foot soldiers to run back up the stairs of Museheld. When she heard Théoden's voice, she turned, and stopped short. Merry nearly ran right into her in his excitement once the king of Rohan accepted his sword. She stepped aside with a smile, then looked up to meet the dark eyes of the king. He turned away and she darted back down the stairs to take her reins from an already mounted Legolas.
"Horsemen," Gimli grumbled from behind the Elf as she swung into her saddle. "I wish I could muster a legion of Dwarves, fully armed and filthy." Maelith shook her head, remembering the tens of thousands of Dwarves she looked over on the plains before the Gates of Mordor. She was sure the Dwarves had been filthy then too.
"Your kinsmen may have no need to ride to war," Legolas told him. It was then that Maelith could appreciate the differences in their voices. Gimli's was deep, rumbling, and raspy, fir for a man of the mines. True to the people of the Light, Legolas had a smoother, lighter voice that flowed when he spoke, as he did now, "I fear war already marches on their own lands." Maelith exchanged a glance with him before she spotted the banner over his shoulder. The white horse was set on black and bordered by red, a fitting emblem for the people of Rohan. As the wind snapped it out on its pole, she had another memory, one where gold and blue banners flew in a gentle breeze above a quiet city.
Once everyone had fallen into their lines, Eomer yelled, "Now is the hour! Riders of Rohan, oaths you have taken, now fulfill them all! To Lord and Land!" A great cheer rose up from the riders and foot soldiers alike, and Théoden rode to the front of the column. Beside him went Eomer, Aragorn, and Legolas, leaving Eowyn, Maelith, and the two captains to fall in behind him. Merry was in there somewhere, though Maelith could not see him.
"Maelith, a song perhaps?" Eowyn asked her, her blonde hair streaming behind her.
Maelith smiled at her, then cast her mind about for a fitting song. "Sound the bugle now. Play it just for me. As the seasons change remember how I used to be. Now I can't go on. I can't even start. I've got nothing left, just an empty heart. I'm a solder, wounded so I must give up the fight. There's nothing more for me, lead me away, or leave me lying here," she sang as loud as she could, casting her voice back along the column for all the riders to hear her above the thundering of hooves. The memory of Haldir's voice sang with her, and for a moment, she could hear the ghost of his laughter.
"Sound the bugle now. Tell them I don't care. There's not a road I know, that leads to anywhere. Without a light I fear that I will stumble in the dark. Lay right down and decide not to go on," she went on. As she sang, Boromir's deep voice echoed in the wind and she thought she saw a legion of riders in silver armor crossing a plain. Above them flew the black flag of Gondor's steward, but when she blinked, they were gone.
"Then from on high, somewhere in the distance, there's a voice that calls, remember who you are. If you lose yourself, your courage soon will follow. So be strong tonight. Remember who you are." This time she could see Sam, climbing slowly down a steep staircase of black stone. There were tears in his eyes, and she wished he could hear her.
"Yeah, you're a soldier now, fighting in a battle, to be free once more. Yeah, that's worth fighting for," her voice carried in the breeze, and everyone's heads came up. Even if it was just those two sentences they'd heard, they could appreciate the beauty of the Elf's voice, and her words stirred something in them that had been lost at Helm's Deep. Somehow, the burden on Maelith's shoulders seemed lighter. It was as if singing for everyone had brought back Boromir and Haldir and she could forgive herself for letting them die.
When they rode into the encampment, Maelith followed Aragorn and Legolas through the lines of white tents. She rode beside Eowyn, both of them starting to take tallies in their heads of the troops they saw. "Grimbol, how many?" Théoden asked one captain.
"Five hundred men from the Westfold, my lord," the man called back. Eowyn winced beside her; many soldiers had been killed trying to defend their villages from the Wildmen of Sarumon.
"We have three hundred more from Dunbar, Théoden King," another called.
"Where are the riders from Snowbourn?" the king asked.
"None have come, my lord," someone told him.
Maelith glanced at Eowyn at that; the Lady was worried. They'd yet to see Eomer. But when Maelith saw the narrow, zig-zagging path she was going to have to ride up to get to the command post, she couldn't do it. "Aragorn!" she called. "Go up there I cannot."
But it was not Aragorn who responded. Legolas slowed Arod, grabbed Hasufel's reins, and pulled the sorrel after him. "I promised you I would not let you fall," he reminded her, and she swallowed, looking up the cliff. "Look only at me," he instructed.
"We've got you, lass," Gimli assured her, though he was holding Legolas's belt to keep from sliding from the saddle as they began the ascent.
She nodded and an idea struck her. "When you walk through the storm, hold your head up high and don't be afraid of the dark. At the end of the storm is a golden sky and the sweet silver song of the light. Walk on, through the wind, walk on through the rain. Though your dreams be tossed and blown," she sang quietly at first, her voice wavering with her fear. Aragorn glanced down at her from above and saw how she clenched at her saddle. He sighed, having forgotten her fear.
"Walk on, walk on, with hope in your heart. And you'll never walk alone. You will not walk alone," now her voice spread over the camp. It was stronger, her fear having faded to the background as she sang.
"When you walk through the storm, hold your head up high and don't be afraid of the dark. At the end of the storm is a golden sky and the sweet silver song of the light. Walk on, through the wind, walk on through the rain. Though your dreams be tossed and blown." This time her voice was steady, drifting on the wind down the mountain. "Walk on, walk on, with hope in your heart. And you'll never walk alone. And you'll never walk alone." Though her fear was at least somewhat controlled, she dared not glance from Legolas.
"You will not walk alone. Walk on, walk on, with hope in your heart and you'll never walk alone. You will not walk…you'll never walk alone." By the time she finished, they were dismounting at the top of the hill, and Maelith hurried away from the edge. She used the excuse of finding Eowyn's tent to run ahead of Legolas and she was relieved to find Eomer. When she did, she noticed how the horses stirred and fought their bindings, neighing and calling out as though they were uneasy.
"The horses are restless," Legolas said from behind her and she turned to see the Elf and the Dwarf. "And the men are quiet."
"They grow nervous in the shadow of the mountain," Eomer explained quietly. He was definitely not excluded, for he grimaced when he looked up at the mountain. Maelith looked up and the words of a memory returned. It was an oath, one of vengeance and unrest in the face of betrayal.
"That road there. Where does that lead?" Gimli asked. Maelith turned around to see a narrow road cut into the mountain itself, cut like a white thread through the dark stone.
"It is the road to the Dimholt," Legolas told them. "The door under the mountain."
"None who've entered there ever return," Eomer told Gimli. "That mountain is evil."
When the lord of Rohan turned away, Maelith noticed Aragorn standing far closer to the mountain than they. "Gimli, get Aragorn. See if you cannot find him something decent to eat," she murmured, gesturing to their friend. Once the Dwarf had moved off, Legolas turned to her, a question clear in his eyes. "We stand on Dunharrow, overlooking Harrowdale. There is the road to Dimholt, and beyond that the Paths of the Dead under the Dwimorberg mountain, yes?" she asked. He nodded and she sighed, looking up at the mountain. "This is a dark place to spend the night," she remarked.
"You have remembered something?" he asked.
"Words only of vengeance," she sighed, "Though speak them I did not."
He touched her arm gently, then followed after Gimli and Aragorn. He could tell that there was more on Maelith's mind and knew she wanted to be alone. It did not surprise him to hear her voice drift across Dunharrow, though when he looked he saw that she sang to the horses. She was calmly them slowly, and he noticed that the men nearest her seemed a bit less tense. As he watched her, a thought came to mind. 'Men fall so easily to enchantment, though even I have fallen to this one. Her voice is too beautiful to resist. Truly a white rose she is, blooming even in the dark hours. Lucky am I to have her at my back.'
AN: Songs are Sound the Bugle from the Spirit: Stallion of the Cimarron and You'll Never Walk Alone from Celtic Woman: Believe. Please review!
