Tára stood on the seashore, relishing in the peaceful sound of the waves. Looking down, Tára buried her toes in the warm sand. It had been so long since she had been to the ocean and the briny smell was a tonic to her soul. Looking around, Tára noticed that she was alone on the shore. She wasn't worried though. She had not felt this safe since she had come to Lothlorien. With a sigh, Tára sat in the sand, letting the sea breeze blow her hair away from her face.
"Why do you fight us?" a deep, gentle voice spoke. Tára jumped up, looking around for the person speaking. She could see no one.
"Why do you fight us, little one?" the voice asked again. "We chose you from all the children of men because you believed in us. We have blessed you with the skills of the greatest warrior and protected you through many trials. Have you lost your faith in us?"
Tára felt anger build in her chest. "I have not stopped believing in you but why did you bring me here? Why are you leaving me to find my way blindly? Why did you let this happen to me?" Tára said, pointing to her face. She could feel tears starting to run down her face. The breeze blew and for a moment, there was no answer. Then, as soft as a whisper, the voice spoke again.
"Trust us."
Tára jerked awake, her pulse racing. She reached up to her face, feeling the wetness of tears. She wiped them away quickly, casting a look towards Legil-Galad. The elf stared at the thatched ceiling, his eyes seeming to cloud over. He was asleep, or at least elven equivalent of sleep.
Tára sat with her back against the wall of the loft, her heart still pounding in her chest. As quietly as she could, Tára unsheathed her sword, gazing at her reflection in the cool steel. Her eyes stared back at her, as she had expected, the same intense blue as before. Tára shivered, not able meet her own reflected gaze. The scars on her face made her stand out enough without her eyes looking like blue flames.
Letting out a sigh, Tára looked over to Legil-Galad again. She envied the elf's ability to have peaceful rest, the dream she had woken from still ringing in her mind.
Trust us. The words were barely audible but they still rang in Tára's mind as if they were shouted.
Trust them? Legil-Galad would trust them. Tára thought bitterly. Legil-Galad sighed, drawing Tára out of her thoughts. She looked at the elf, seeing his hands twitch. For the first time, Tara noticed how scarred and battered his hands and knuckles were. She remembered how he had incapacitated Wormtongue's men when they arrived and realized his scars must have been from his military training. A memory came to Tára unbidden and she had to stifle an unexpected chuckle. Her brother was always one to pull pranks but one time he had not counted on Tára's reaction. She had lashed out in surprise, punching her bother square in the jaw. Xander had been none the worse for wear, though Tára had split her knuckle. Looking at her right hand, Tára found the familiar scar. As she studied her hand, homesickness welled up in Tára's chest so suddenly it took her breath away. She fought back tears, not wanting to disturb Legil-Galad. To distract herself, Tára once again studied Legil-Galad. After a moment of listening to the elf's rhythmic breathing, Tára felt herself calming. Looking through the miniscule portal in the thatching, Tára noticed with relief the faint pink glow of the rising sun. Only a few more hours, and Tára and Legil-Galad could come out of hiding. Tára leaned her head back against the wall with a sigh, not knowing when she fell back asleep.
Flames licked at Tára's feet. All around her, houses burned and crumbled. People ran about in terror.
A great whistling noise sounded over Tára. She looked up, fear overwhelming her. A giant orb of flame sped towards Tára. She cried out, unable to move to safety.
"Tára!"
Tára jerked her head up, scrabbling for her sword. Strong hands stopped her movement making Tára panic.
"Tára, stop! You were only dreaming."
"What? Oh," Tára looked into the concerned face of Legil-Galad. He smiled at her, any evidence that their conversation the night before bothered the elf remained unseen. Legil-Galad sat back, casually brushing a piece of Tára's hair out of her eyes.
"Did you sleep at all, meldë?" Legil-Galad studied the dark circles under Tára's eyes, a worried look on his face.
"I slept a little." Tára said. Her dream of the ocean shore came back to her and she looked away from Legil-Galad. She did not want to explain to the elf that the Valar had spoken to her. Her pride would not allow her to admit that Legil-Galad had been right. Legil-Galad looked like he was about to ask Tára what she was hiding when he suddenly snapped to attention.
"Listen." Legil-Galad said.
Tára sat still, hearing the faint sound of a horse running through the street. Tára jumped down from the loft, running out of the house. A rider dressed all in black flew past the house, kicking and cursing at his horse to run faster. Tára watched as the rider disappeared from her sight then she turned and looked up the hill to the hall of Meduseld. She saw a crowd of villagers bowing at the feet of a man. King Théoden stood on the steps, a drawn sword still in his hand. The wind picked up his tattered robe as he turned to another man beside him. A thrill shot through Tára as she recognized the man beside the king.
"They're here!"
Tára turned to run back into the house, nearly running into Legil-Galad. The elf put a hand out to steady her and Tára realized that his other arm held all their meager belongings. With a smile, Tára threw her cloak on and shouldered her pack. As she strapped on her sword, Tára noticed the old woman and her grandson standing just outside the door of their house. They had been nearly nonexistent during the time Tára and Legil-Galad had borrowed their loft and Tára was surprised to see them. Smiling, Tára walked up to the old woman.
"I thank you for your hospitality." Tára said, reaching out her hand to the old woman.
"No thanks are necessary." The old woman took Tára's hand with surprising alacrity, a strange look coming over her wizened face. Tára felt a strange burning feeling start to run up her arm and she pulled away quickly.
"Thank you again." Tára said, taking a step away from the old woman. The crone merely smiled, waving Tára away. Looking to the woman's grandson, Tára could not help but shudder at the child's expression. The boy seemed to look through Tára and when he noticed her scrutiny, he smirked and walked back inside the house.
"Let's go." Tára said, turning to Legil-Galad. The elf only nodded, looking behind Tára one last time. After another quick glance over her shoulder, Tára turned away from the old woman and started the walk up the hill.
The old woman stood on her porch for a few moments, listening to the disappearing footsteps of the young woman and elf. She was thankful she had lost her sight long ago, for she did not wish to see the face of the one called Tára, or the elf for that matter. From that one touch, she knew who Tára was, and she knew her master would not be pleased. With a sigh, the old woman shuffled indoors.
"Eonsted, where are you?" the old woman listened, hearing the quick patter of the boys feet.
"I am here. What do you need?" The boy took the old woman's hand, looking into her milky eyes expectantly.
"Tell the Master that They have chosen their messenger and that she walks among us." The old woman felt Eonsted drop her hand and he walked away quickly. She turned away from the boy, knowing that the dark spirit in him would complete the task quickly. As she walked the familiar path through the house to the kitchen, the old woman listened with satisfaction to the dark words rolling out of the young boy. She heard a soft thump from the other room and knew that the task was done. Opening a small cupboard, the old woman took out a loaf of bread and some seed cakes. She shuffled back to Eonsted, knowing the boy would be famished once he woke.
Legolas looked out across Edoras from the steps of Meduseld. The elf looked around the city below, noticing that most of the houses looked faded and desolate. The signs of poverty and neglect were everywhere, though the people of the city now scurried about with a newfound energy. Their king had been healed and Wormtongue had been driven away.
Raising his eyes to the mountains, Legolas thought of the events of the morning. Théoden's revival had been nothing short of spectacular. Gandalf had truly become powerful. Legolas was glad that the Valar had seen fit to send the wizard back to them. Middle Earth still needed Gandalf's wisdom and courage in these darkening days. The wind gusted against Legolas, bringing the many scents of the grassy plain up to the elf. Taking a deep breath, Legolas turned away from the plains and looked to the Golden Hall. A Royal guard stood on the stone steps, blocking the path of two cloaked figures. Legolas studied the pair; there was something familiar about them.
"I am sorry, only guests of the king are allowed." The guards said, resting his hand on the pommel of his sword. He cast a dark look at the shorter of the two people, who kept leaning around the guard.
"We mean no one harm. We only wish to reunite with our comrades. Please, could you just tell them that..."
"I am sorry." The guard interrupted his voice sharp. "The king is not taking any more visitors!"
The shorter of the two stepped back, their cloak moving to show a sword at their waist. The pommel of the sword caught the sunlight, flashing sapphire blue. Legolas stepped forward, not believing his eyes.
"Tára?" Legolas asked, walking towards the trio on the stairs.
The shorter of the cloaked figures looked up sharply, pulling back their hood. Legolas' heart leapt with joy. It was indeed Tára, though what the elf saw made his breath catch. The three diagonal scars that marred Tára's face froze Legolas' smile. The elf wanted to weep and rage in anger all at the same time. How did this happen? Who was responsible? Legolas knew that if whoever harmed Tára was still alive, he would personally hunt the monster down and exact revenge. Realizing that he was being watched, Legolas schooled his features quickly, not wanting Tára to see his inner turmoil. The young woman sidestepped the guard in front of her, rushing up to the elven prince. As soon as she was within an arm's length, Legolas pulled Tára into a fierce embrace.
"Mellonin, it is so good to see you." Tára said against the elven prince's chest. Legolas chuckled at her muffled greeting and pulled back, looking Tára up and down.
"What have you done little one?" Legolas asked. The elven prince ran a finger gently over the scar on Tára's forehead. Tára looked away from Legolas quickly, bringing a hand to her face self-consciously.
"Legil-Galad and I have much to tell you." Tára said, looking behind her at the other elf.
Legolas stepped back at Tára's words. "Legil-Galad?"
"You have heard correctly." Legil-Galad said, casting back his own hood. The elf lord walked up to Legolas and clasped his hand onto his kinsman's shoulder.
"Indeed, there is much we must speak of." Legolas said, noticing a strange shadow in Legil-Galad's eyes. His kinsman gave a nearly imperceptible nod to Legolas, promising answers later.
"Come, we must find Aragorn and Gimli. Follow me." Legolas said, turning towards the Golden Hall. Tára and Legil-Galad followed Legolas gladly, leaving a stunned royal guard in their wake.
"What? You can't be serious?"
Tára could not help but smile at the sound of the dwarf's voice. It seemed like ages since Tára had been in Lórien.
The door Tára stood behind suddenly flew open, causing her to leap backwards. Legil-Galad was behind her in an instant, steadying her with a hand to her back. Gimli, more astute than given credit for, witnessed the entire exchange with a shrewd eye.
"Gimli, it is so good to see you." Tára said, bending to embrace the dwarf.
"All I get is a 'good to see you?' You act as if we've only been on a pleasure trip." Gimli said gruffly, though the dwarf's eyes glinted with mischief. The dwarf's face, though, quickly turned serious. "Legolas told me you had gotten yourself roughed up lass." Gimli said, gesturing at Tára's face. The dwarf's blunt honesty rattled Tára, though she did not let it show.
"It's only a few scars." Tára gave a fading smile to the dwarf, trying to reassure herself as much as Gimli. Thankfully, the dwarf changed the subject, gesturing towards Legil-Galad.
"And who might this be?" Gimli looked up at the elf, his sharp eyes boring into Legil-Galad. To his credit, the elf did not flinch away from Gimli's sharp gaze but merely smiled benignly as Tára introduced him.
"This is Legil-Galad, Legolas' kinsman. He has helped me in my travels." Tára looked back at the elf with a smile, a gesture once again not lost on the dwarf. Gimli greeted Legil-Galad with a short nod.
"Aragorn isn't around; he's off with Gandalf I suppose." Gimli said, abruptly changing subject. "We reunited with Gandalf in Fangorn. Can you believe it, back from the dead..." with that, Gimli turned motioning Tára to follow. A look over her shoulder stopped Tára. Legil-Galad hung back, barely inside the doorway. Gimli, who did not seem to notice that he was not being followed, talked on.
"Is something troubling you?" Tára asked in elvish. Legil-Galad wanted to laugh at how many times he had asked Tára that same question and had gotten no answer.
"Nothing at all." Legil-Galad returned in elvish. The elf mustered up a smile for Tára, following her into the room.
Legolas stepped from behind the corner that he had been standing. He had heard the whole exchange between Tára and his kinsman. Understanding of the situation was an unwelcome intrusion to the elf's thoughts.
Tára sat on the stone steps of Meduseld. The day had been one of many mixed emotions. She was reunited with Aragorn, Legolas, and Gimli, though now they stood on the brink of war.
Tára sighed. Every text of history that she had read was playing out before her eyes. The wonder that such things had happened was overshadowed by the growing unrest in her heart. Absently, Tára reached for Boromir's ring, twirling the oversized band around her fingers.
"How does one like you come by the Ring of the Stewards?" a voice spoke behind Tára.
Tára looked over her shoulder at the owner of the voice. The wizard Gandalf stood behind her. The old man moved beside Tára, leaning upon his staff.
"That is a family heirloom, not given away lightly. Last I knew, Boromir, Denethor's son, bore that ring." Gandalf smiled down at Tára though his eyes were sorrowful. Tára looked up at the wizard, his earlier words ringing in her ears.
...the Ring of the Stewards...
Tára looked up, noticing that Gandalf still smiled at her, waiting for an answer.
"Have my words fallen on deaf ears?" the wizard asked a trace of humor in his voice.
"No. I am sorry; it's just something you said earlier. It reminded me of something." Tára looked away for a moment, her homesickness returning full force.
"My question still stands though. How did you come by that ring?"
Tára looked back at the wizard, feeling an ember of agitation at the wizard's persistence, though she quelled it quickly.
"I gained a special place in Boromir's heart, through no merit of my own. This ring was his pledge, though I was loath to take it for his intentions were only owned by him." Tára said, turning again to look at the setting sun. Admitting that Boromir had loved her stung more than Tára had thought it would.
And now, no one will ever love you again. Tára thought, forgetting the wizard for a moment. Her distracted thoughts gave Gandalf a moment to study the young woman before him. He had heard the whispers of the Valar. He knew that she had been chosen. Gandalf could already see the signs of the Valar's blessing. Tára's eyes were an unearthly blue, but they were a familiar shade to the wizard. In the dusky light, a faint glow came from Tára's skin as well. Gandalf studied Tára's profile until the young woman stood.
"It has been an honor speaking with you, Olórin." Tára said, bowing slightly to the wizard then turning away.
"Great things will come of you, Light Bringer." The wizard looked over his shoulder at the departing young woman. Tára paused slightly, and then walked on.
Tára walked down into the Golden Hall, not really seeing where she was going. Though the wizard had not said anything offensive, Tára still bristled at Gandalf's words.
Of course he knows who I am. Tára thought. If the accounts are correct, the Valar themselves sent him back to aid those fighting against Sauron. They probably told the old wizard everything. Suddenly, a chilling thought assailed Tára.
"What if Gandalf isn't the only one that knows?" Tára whispered, voicing her thought aloud. A cold spike of fear formed in her stomach. Tára knew that her identity was no longer a tightly kept secret. Panic started to rise in Tára's chest that she fought hard to suppress. She was about to flee the hall when a voice called to her.
"Lady Tára?"
Tára turned in the torch-lit hallway, her heart pounding. The silhouette of a woman could be seen at the opposite end of the hall. The woman stepped into the light, revealing her face. The lady Éowyn beckoned to Tára, an expression of uncertainty on her features.
"Are you well, Lady Tára?" Éowyn asked, noticing the young woman's pale features. The Sheildmaiden did her best not to stare at Tára but her scarred face made it nearly impossible.
"Yes, my lady, I am well. I was only deep in thought and you startled me." Tára said, walking towards Théoden's niece.
"There is no need to stand on ceremony; that can be left to the men and the throne." Éowyn smiled at Tára though she quickly looked away, a move that Tára did not miss.
"Though my uncle but greeted you, he wishes you and your companion to be treated well. A friend of lord Aragorn is a friend of our hall."
"Thank you." Tára said quietly, noticing that Éowyn had a slightly embarrassed look on her face. Éowyn quickly walked past Tára, motioning for her to follow. They soon came to a door that Éowyn opened. A modest sized chamber greeted Tára. A bed piled high with furs dominated the space, leaving just enough room for a pitcher-stand and a small chest against the opposing wall.
"I am sorry that it is not one of our grander rooms but as you have seen we have been inundated with many important peoples." Éowyn said gesturing to the room's interior.
"It is more than I could ask for. Thank you, again." Tára started walking into the room when she saw the hesitation of Éowyn. Tára turned and smiled at the older woman. Éowyn's look became embarrassed.
"Curiosity has gotten the best of me, but I was wondering how you came to know the lord Aragorn?" Éowyn looked down at the floor for a moment then looked up again, her face showing the truth of her statement.
"Aragorn taught me all that he knows about sword play." Tára stated simply, not wanting to go into further detail. Éowyn seemed to take time to digest Tára's statement, scrutinizing the young woman, though not harshly. Seeming to catch herself, the shield maiden spoke.
"You will have to tell me that story some day for I am sure to find it interesting." Her demeanor changing, Éowyn continued, "If you wish to have anything, you need only ask. You may breakfast with us on the morrow. Goodnight." Éowyn left on these words, leaving Tára standing in the hall alone. Looking into the room, Tára felt the pull to climb into the giant bed and sleep away all that had happened in the past days. Just as soon as that thought entered her head, Tára remembered what she was originally doing before she met Éowyn. Turning away from the door, Tára set out to find Legil-Galad.
Legil-Galad stood on the steps of Meduseld, Legolas beside him.
"She is the Light Bringer then." Legolas said, watching the expressions on Legil-Galad's face. "What drove you to come with her?" Legolas asked, not unkindly.
"You have seen what has been done to her. She needed a protector and I was able to be that." Legil-Galad said. "And she still needs one." He added as an afterthought. "She is fighting the Valar's choice and it is taking its toll. She has become so closed off. It burdens my soul to see her so miserable."
Legolas studied Legil-Galad closely, hearing a strange note in his kinsman's voice.
"Does your concern for Tára stem from concern alone or does it stem from something deeper?" Legolas asked.
Legil-Galad stared at Legolas in astonishment. "I have only known her for a matter of weeks. You cannot be insinuating that…" Legil-Galad got no further with his argument when a familiar voice called to him.
"Legil-Galad?"
The elf in question turned toward the sound. Tára was walking towards the pair. Before the young woman came close enough to hear, Legolas leaned close to Legil-Galad.
"I fear you are straying towards a dangerous flame. Take care that you aren't consumed." Legolas then bade Legil-Galad goodnight, reminding the elf of their ride on the morrow. Legolas touched Tára's shoulder as he passed but said nothing, disappearing into the night.
"What have you told Legolas?" Tára asked, now standing at Legil-Galad's side.
"Everything." The elf answered; his tone and shortness of the answer causing Tára to look up. Legil-Galad quickly changed the subject.
"We have been asked by the Dunedain Ranger to ride with the refugees to the fortress of Helm's Deep. I accepted the offer for both of us for I know you are loath to part with your comrades."
"I'm glad you accepted because I was going to insist that we go along anyway." Tára's tone was light but a strange feeling welled in her heart. Legil-Galad seemed to be bothered by something but the tone of his voice left no room for any questions.
"I came to say goodnight." Tára said quickly. "I will see you in the morning." Tára touched Legil-Galad's arm gently then turned away.
Legil-Galad stood on the stone steps for quite some time after Tára left. Legolas' words still rang in his head and he worked desperately to understand them. Legolas seemed to think that Legil-Galad's care for Tára went deeper than what Legil-Galad had let on. Now, as Legil-Galad stood back and looked from Legolas' perspective, there was no way to deny what Legolas saw. Legil-Galad pleadingly studied the night sky, hoping against all hope that he would not be consumed by the flame he strayed to so closely.
Helm's Deep. One of the most renowned battles in history. Words form historic texts and writings floated through Tára's dreams.
…the Rohirrim were hard pressed to find warriors…
…though the fortress was great, its lone weakness was almost the undoing of all…
…the number of Théoden's warriors could not compare to the army of Isengard…
The fact that the battle would be won seemed non-existent to Tára as visions of war flashed in her mind.
Great uruks cut down men like grass. The screams of dying men and uruks threatened to deafen Tára. Boromir stood in the midst of the surging mass of uruks, hewing down any beast that came near. Tára's view suddenly changed, giving Tára a vantage point high above the battle. Strangely, Boromir fought beside Legolas; Boromir with a sword, Legolas with his knives. Uruks swarmed around the two fighters, driving them apart and a giant berserker filled the gap between the two. The beast swung its giant sword towards Boromir but the man was nowhere to be seen. In his place stood Legil-Galad. The berserker swung again, finding his mark. Tára cried out as Legil-Galad slowly crumpled under the berserker's blow. The last thing Tára saw was Legil-Galad's lifeless face, then the vision disappeared into blackness.
"Legil-Galad!"
Legil-Galad immediately snapped out of his meditation. Legolas stood over him, a look akin to panic in his eyes.
"Tára, she needs you. Hurry! She is causing the whole of Edoras to quake!"
Legil-Galad dashed out of the room, unaware that Legolas, Aragorn, Gimli, and Gandalf followed. Several guards stood before Tára's door with their weapons drawn.
"Let me through!" Legil-Galad said, pushing the men aside. Opening the door, Legil-Galad entered quickly, not caring of the consequences.
Tára knelt in the center of her bed, the covers thrown to the floor. Her skin was glowing the brightest Legil-Galad had seen. The elf approached Tára, laying a hand on her shoulder. Tára suddenly spun around; something like a great blast of air flung Legil-Galad away, pushing the elf against the far wall. Tára looked at Legil-Galad though her eyes seemed to look through him.
"Tára! It is I, Legil-Galad!" the pressure against the elf immediately ceased. Tára blinked, her irises becoming visible.
"Legil-Galad, you...you are not hurt?" Tára asked haltingly in elvish.
"I am fine." Legil-Galad returned in elvish. The elf rose from the floor quickly when he saw the tears streaming down Tára's cheeks. Coming towards him on shaky legs, Tára grabbed Legil-Galad in a fierce embrace. Sobbing, Tára pressed her face into Legil-Galad's chest. One by one, the spectators by the door left. Shortly, Legolas and Gandalf were the only two standing outside the door. Gandalf turned, laying a hand on Legolas' shoulder. Legolas turned as well, though reluctantly. Though he was half-way down the hall, Legolas heard Tára's voice as clear as day.
"It was so real. I thought I'd lost you."
Though it was whispered, Legolas heard his kinsman's reply.
"You will never lose me."
"Why did you not tell me that they have spoken to you?" Legil-Galad asked. Tára had told Legil-Galad about her dream of the seashore and the Valar speaking to her. The elf sat next to Tára on the edge of her bed. He gently wrapped a blanket around Tára's shoulders when she shivered. The young woman gave Legil-Galad a small smile in thanks.
"I did not want to tell you because I knew you would agree." Tára said quietly. "I was too proud." Tára looked down at her lap, twisting a corner of the blanket nervously.
"Though we have only known each other for a short time, have I ever steered you wrong?" Legil-Galad asked, tilting Tára's face towards him with a gentle hand. He smiled when Tára's eyes met his and the young woman knew that he was not angry. A quick expression of relief crossed Tára's face, which made Legil-Galad smile again.
"Legil-Galad?" Tára looked to the elf for a moment, her relieved expression gone. It was replaced with a look akin to fear.
"What troubles you?"Legil-Galad asked, seeing a strange look of panic in Tára's eyes.
"Gandalf knows who I am."
"Yes…" Legil-Galad answered hesitantly, failing to see the reason for Tára's fear.
"If Gandalf knows who I am, don't you think that the Enemy knows who I am? I mean I am not sure what the Valar want me to do just yet but it cannot be to the Enemy's liking. We are heading to Helm's Deep! One of the largest battles in history is about to take place and don't you think that I may be a big target?" Tára could feel herself losing control until she looked at Legil-Galad. The elf sat stock still, looking at Tára with a troubled expression.
"You know of a coming battle and yet you have told no one?" Legil-Galad looked into Tára's eyes and it was then that she knew her mistake.
"It has to be this way, Legil-Galad. If I were to interfere, history could be changed, and not for the better." Tára leaned forward, grasping Legil-Galad's hands. "It has to be this way. We will be victorious but battle is going to happen whether I interfere or not. Please, Legil-Galad, do not think badly of me." Tára looked at the elf pleadingly, surprised when he pulled his hands away.
"You knew the Gondorian was going to die, didn't you?" Legil-Galad asked, his face devoid of any emotion. "You knew the Gondorian was going to die and you did nothing."
Tára sat back from Legil-Galad quickly, her head reeling with the sudden censure in the elf's voice. Boromir's face, alive with a beaming smile, flashed in Tára's vision. She then remembered the look on the man's face when he confessed his love for her and her anger boiled over. She jumped up from the bed, her eyes flashing.
"I could do nothing! Have you not heard a word that I have said?" Tára asked, her voice rising in hurt and anger. "I could do nothing or else I would endanger the fate of all Middle Earth! You were not there, how can you know what I did and did not do? It was not my choice for him to die!" Tára was shouting now. She took hold of the chain around her neck and tore it off fiercely. "I wish he was still alive so that I could give this back to him. To apologize for how I failed him, how I let him down. He was the first man to ever say he loved me, and now..." Tára sat back on the bed heavily, holding her face in her hands. Legil-Galad put a hand to her shoulder that she brushed away angrily.
"Just go." Tára said, sending a scathing glance at the elf. "Do not offer to comfort me if you cannot understand the position in which I have been placed."
Legil-Galad sat back for a moment then rose quickly, leaving the room in silence. Tára waited until she heard the door to the elf's chamber close until she burst into tears. Tára buried her face into the pillows on her bed, trying to muffle her sobs. Legil-Galad seemed to be the only one to understand what she was going through and now Tára did not know what the elf thought of her. Remembering the look of disapproval in Legil-Galad's eyes was enough to make Tára's heart feel as if it had broken in two.
Legil-Galad watched Tára closely. The young woman had been silent for most of the ride to Helm's deep. They were nearly to the fortress now and Tára had barely said two words to Legil-Galad. The elf had held his peace when they left Edoras but now Legil-Galad was ready to confront Tára. Legil-Galad had thought long and hard about what Tára had told him and he realized that he could not condemn the young woman. He, for one, knew that if he had the power to change future events, he would be loath to exercise them. The elf still puzzled over the revelation that Tára knew that the Gondorian was going to die but in the end, decided that Tára had her reasons and he should trust her.
Legil-Galad rode closer to Tára, placing a tentative hand on her arm. Tára looked up at Legil-Galad, surprise in her eyes. The elf looked around quickly and thanked the stars they were away from most that knew them.
"Tára, I cannot bear this silence any more. It was wrong of me to criticize you when I do not know the entire matter. I did not mean to cause you hurt. I beg your forgiveness."
Tára sat silently for a moment, looking out at the horizon.
"I must apologize as well." Tára said quietly. " I should not have sent you away in anger and I should not have kept this space between us. I ask your forgiveness as well. I have already forgiven you." Tára looked at Legil-Galad and smiled tentatively.
"You are forgiven." Legil-Galad smiled dazzlingly at Tára, though her expression turned serious once again.
"Legil-Galad, please promise to trust me. I know things may seem hopeless at times but please trust me that I will tell what I know if it will help." Tára looked pleadingly into her elven friend's eyes. Legil-Galad answered without hesitation.
"I will always trust you, mellonin, no matter what."
Tára started to smile again at the elf when a scream ripped through the air, startling Tára's horse. Legil-Galad reached over, placing his hand upon the horse's neck, quieting the animal. A flash of metal caught Legil-Galad's eye. Legolas ran down a hill in front of the caravan, his knives drawn.
"A scout!" The Elven prince yelled.
A cry went up among the refugees, one dreaded word being repeated the most. Wargs. Théoden called all of the riders to the head of the column and the scene erupted into pandemonium. All the while, distant yelps of pain could be heard as the giant beasts fell under the steady rain of Legolas' arrows. Legil-Galad looked over to Tára who had already unsheathed her sword.
"No." Legil-Galad held out a hand, stopping the young woman. Tára was about to protest when Legil-Galad spoke again. "I think the Lady Éowyn needs you more." Legil-Galad motioned towards Théoden's niece. She was mounting her horse, a troubled look on her face. She then started issuing commands to the remaining refugees.
"Go, please." Legil-Galad said, turning from Tára and riding up to the front of the line. Tára watched as Legil-Galad disappeared over the hill, the sun glinted off the elf's drawn sword. Turning her steed towards the Lady Éowyn, Tára rode to the lady's aid, hearing the clash of battle behind her.
A/N: I know a lot happened quickly in this chapter but I hope you all are still enjoying yourselves. Thank you all for your patience! :)