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to J.R.R. Tolkien.
WickedGreene13: Thanks for your suggestions. I will probably go back and do that when I have the time. And yes, for the activities you have in mind I'm afraid you will have to wait a bit for that ^^ Thank you, as always, for your review
just me: Thank you, that means a lot :) I always hope to bring some form of quality to my writing, though I am afraid this chapter may seem a little rushed.
"Aragorn, behind you!"
I whirled, throwing up my sword, a gasp escaping my lips as my arm absorbed the brutal impact of the blow from an enormous troll. The strike reverberated down into my chest; setting my hand afire as I very nearly dropped Anduril. At the same time, I shoved my shield above me and took another crushing hit, almost driven to my knees. The battle was raging around me, the cries of man and orc echoing up into a sky blackened by the fires of Mordor. Left and right, man fought orc, goblin, and all manner of foul creature. The Eye was turned directly upon us and I felt its pestilent gaze piercing me to the very core. Sauron watched the battle at a distance; locked up in his dark tower encased in shadow. The Black Gates were opened wide like some terrible, gaping maw; Sauron's forces spilling forth like a black wave of unrestrained vomit.
We were overcome.
Surrounded and pressed in upon, we fought with the desperate drive of those having marched to their doom. It seemed a terrible dream, as I watched men fall before me. Stabbed, gutted, crushed, and beaten; I saw the light fade from their eyes as their spirits disappeared into the dank and dismal air around us. Injured men cried for their mothers as their comrades slit their throats in what they saw as a gesture of mercy. They knew too well what orcs did with the 'spoils' of battle. The grit and grime of blood seemed a second skin, clinging to my armor like a heavy coating of mud. My cape was reduced to unrecognizable tatters, an orc had tried to strangle me with it and I'd tore it to shreds rather than risk it again.
At some point, the eagles came to aid us, but they were still vulnerable to arrows and the Nazgul soon engaged them in fierce combat. Their combined screams echoed above us and the field was dotted with the black blood of the monstrous winged beasts whilst feathers floated through the air. It was an ethereal, heart-stopping experience. I had lost sight of the other members of the Fellowship long ago. I didn't know if I fought aside friend or foe, only that I was still upright and that my blade was still swinging. It became exhaustive, grim work, with no possible end but to eventually fall; overcome by the endless hoard.
The third blow from the troll fell between my sword and my shield, striking me square in the chest. All the breath in my body was expelled and a burst of blood blossomed over my lip. My vision tunneled as I landed on my back in a heap. I was temporarily numb, watching as my fingers curled in unresponsive shock. Struggling to regain air, I convulsed and met Legolas' gaze among the writhing throng, his blue eyes widened in despair and terror. His mouth formed the syllables of my name even though I could not hear it. Wrenching him from my focus, I threw up both arms as the troll loomed over me, a wicked and vicious look in its eyes as I lay sprawled and defenseless. I realized that I would never get to say goodbye to anyone. This was the moment Illuvatar had chosen for me, and I felt a grudging but unavoidable sense of acceptance. Even as my foe raised its monstrous club, I felt no fear, only sadness at the fact that I wouldn't get to say goodbye. Breath flooded my body but it was too late, I was an immobile target.
And then Mount Doom exploded.
We watched as the great behemoth of a Mountain spewed forth rivers of gushing lava; darkening the already smoggy sky with ash. The Nazgul gave a terrible shriek and wheeled away towards the eruption, as if some semblance of hope lay within its bubbling destruction. An anguished scream filled the air and the Eye seemed to bulge to a grotesque size. Sauron's rage and fear were felt by all of his servants. They froze in their tracks, eyes turning in horror as the dark tower of their King crumbled down into dust. Great fissures opened in the wide expanse of space where our enemies stood, and they gave a great unanimous cry of terror only to be swallowed up as they raced back towards the Black Gate. The troll above me gave a howl of panic and sprinted away only to be felled by a devastatingly accurate arrow. A tentative cry of victory rose from my surviving comrades as our enemies scattered. Regaining most of my breath, I found my feet once more, watching as Mount Doom spewed forth another wave of lava; this time completely engulfing the mountain.
My heart seemed to slow to a stop as I slowly realized the implications of the explosion. Frodo and Sam were either already dead or close to it. Mordor was falling into itself; crumbling into rubble, dust, and fire. Despair crawled into the back of my throat, crushing my sense of victory with a wave of grief and disbelief. I'm not exactly sure what we'd expected to happen when the Ring was destroyed. A part of me whispered that I should have forseen it, Sauron wasn't going to fall without taking his Kingdom with him. Frodo and Sam had sacrificed their lives to save ours, and I felt it was terribly unfair.
"I've sent the Eagles."
I turned slowly, as if in a dream, to face Gandalf. The old wizard's expression was a terrible mask of fear and sadness, but there was also a glimmer of hope and I clung to it like a moth to flame.
"Do you think they will find them?"
"I don't know" the Maiar replied gruffly. "There is always hope, but right now there is very little."
"Gandalf" I said desperately. "I would never have let them go on their own if I had known."
Kind eyes meant mine.
"Aragorn, no matter what happens, this is not your fault. You did what was best for the quest, and they have succeeded, whatever the price."
He swept away, in the direction of a floundering orc. I watched numbly as he ended its 'suffering' with a quick sword stroke. Around me, the soldiers were celebrating, unaware of the monstrous cost of our victory. My eyes fell once more to the smoldering pillar of Mount Doom, and my hands trembled with consternation and grief. All my life, I'd been a friend of Hobbits and the little things of the Earth. As a Ranger, it was my responsibility to put nature and history to the forefront of my values. I felt I had failed in some terrible, personal, and unforgiveable way.
"Meleth-nin." The voice beside me was barely above a whisper. I turned to look at Legolas, who stared back with eyes full of sadness and sympathy. "'Tis not your fault" he murmured.
"Isn't it?" I whispered.
"Destroying the One Ring was always going to come at a cost" the elf replied, casting a meaningful gaze to the battlefield around us. "The cost of destroying a great Evil is always high, and it is never what we want."
It was as we stood there, gazing at the destruction of Mordor, that the Eagles came flying back. Their conversational cries rent the air asunder and for a moment the soldiers quailed in their presence. In the talons of two were twin figures, both hanging listlessly from sharp yellow claws. After hovering for a minute they winged their way towards Minas Tirith at great haste.
"A good sign" Legolas commented. "They return to the city with the Ringbearer, perhaps they still live."
We did not return to the city immediately. With Sauron's demise, we had time to hunt down the orcs still hiding in various outposts ringing the ruins of Mordor. It was dull, mind-numbing work. Some of the orcs obviously wanted mercy, but their superiors wouldn't hear of it; resulting in mass slaughter. The subordinates were weeded out and dispatched by their Commanders and the Commanders in turn were killed by us since they were unwilling to throw down their weapons. Gandalf stayed behind at the Black Gate to tend to the wounded. The dead were gathered as well as possible, but a second procession would bring the majority back in the days to come. After patrolling Ered Lithui and Ephel Duath, we made our way back to the Towers of the Teeth and out onto the Dagorlad. All of us were weary beyond belief, and I was almost looking forward to our return to Minas Tirith.
We set out in a varying procession, pressing forward only when we had to and taking a great many rests in-between. I tended to the wounded soldiers that were able to make the first journey back, distributing my skills among those of the other healers. People had begun to recognize who I was, and it both gratified and terrified me. Some of the soldiers had begun to address me as 'sire' and I deeply disapproved of it. It made me feel separated from the men who had given their lives just as readily as I had given mine.
"I've been called 'sire' since I was three" Legolas said idly, watching me bandage a banner man. "If that bothers you, wait until they start bowing and standing every time you enter a room."
"If that's the way Kings are treated I'm going to have to rewrite the book on etiquette" I grumbled, fumbling for herbs in my satchel.
"Sire, the Wizard Gandalf asked to see you."
I glared pointedly at the soldier who had addressed me. We were somewhere near the back of the procession; squarely in the middle of a slow-moving healing column. The injured required a gentler pace than the rest of those who accompanied us, and I was more than happy to spend my time there. Sensing he had done something wrong, the infantryman bowed low as if to apologize. Legolas let out something that sounded suspiciously like a derisive giggle and I turned my accusing gaze on him. Smirking, he dipped his head.
"You'd better go and see what he wants" he commented saucily. "Sire."
Throwing up my hands in defeat, I left the elf to his mischief and mounted Roheryn. Turning swiftly, I made my way to the head of the procession and soon located Gandalf atop Shadowfax, riding next to Merry. The Hobbit gave me a cheery wave and I returned the gesture, relieved that at least one person wasn't treating me like a God. Gandalf raised a hairy eyebrow but otherwise gave no comment to my presence until we were riding side-by-side.
"You will be expected to allow the city to recover before your Coronation" he said after we had ridden in silence for a while.
"They can have as much time as they want and then some" I replied stiffly. "I'm in no hurry to claim the throne."
"Just because you don't wear a crown doesn't mean you don't have any responsibility" Gandalf chided gently. "People will expect you to oversee the reconstruction of Gondor, whether you've been instated on the throne or not."
"I'm not taking the throne until I know that Legolas can take it with me" I replied calmly. Gandalf opened his mouth to speak but I held up my hand to stop him. "Hear me out. As much as I want to help Gondor, I want to share my rule with the one I love. I will not take the crown unless I'm to marry Legolas the same day."
"You seem to have faith that Gondor will accept it" the old wizard growled. "I thought you meant to be sensible about this."
"I am being sensible" I replied calmly. "If I don't make my position clear early on, no one will respect me if I spring it on them later down the line. Legolas and I will rule together or I will not rule at all."
Gandalf made a noise that was half disgust and half resignation. Merry appeared to have missed our entire conversation, preferring to chatter happily with Gimli who rode with a soldier to his left. The clatter of hooves announced Arod's approach and I gave Legolas a small smile of greeting before turning to the Captain of the Guard to discuss their plans for Minas Tirith once they'd returned. In times of peace, solidiers were expected to lay down their weapons and give aid to those focused on rebuilding the city. Plans had been laid too send out small scouting parties to flush elusive pockets of orcs from the area; but the rest of the Guard would be expected to help with Minas Tirith's refurbishment. The city needed to heal, and some compensation would be had for those who had lost family members to the war. Children without parents needed housing and the injured would have there recompense.
"You'll have to decide on a set grievance sum" the Captain told me. "Gondor has a treasury but we can't spend it all on the bereaved, some of it has to go to supplies and food."
"I can do that" Legolas cut in. "I'm used to figuring funds. Adar used to make me go over the supply charts in the larders four times a day, especially when I was recalcitrant."
"M'lord" the Captain began dubiously. "It's the King's responsibility-"
"-To boss everyone around, I know" the golden-haired elf replied cheerfully. "Look at it this way, you don't have to tell me to do anything. I'm volunteering for the job, and I'm qualified to do it. You don't have any problem with it, do you?" he looked imploringly at me and I sighed in disgust.
"Legolas, if you're wanting to jump in head first before we've even thought about funeral arrangements, please reconsider. I know you want to do your part but surely you're going to busy."
"Oh you're not going to be free of anything at all, don't think I meant that!" Legolas exclaimed. "My Adar's coming up for the funerals and staying 'till your coronation and I imagine you'll want to have things prepared for him and the rest of the elven delegation. Gimli's relatives are bound to show up, along with a whole slew of nobles from Rohan and Gondor." He smiled, which did nothing to assuage my sudden onslaught of panic. "Oh, and don't forget the rest of Middle Earth, they'll want to meet you too."
"That's it!" I cried, startling Roheryn. "I don't want to be King!"
"I'm afraid you've invested far too much of yourself to bow out now" Gandalf said mildly, casting an amused glance at Legolas.
"Look, there's Osgiliath!" my elven rider cried, spurring his horse forward.
I watched him go with a mild feeling of disbelief.
"How does he just...accept everything?" I muttered.
"I imagine because he's a prince, sire" the Captain said slowly. "Have you given any thought to your chamber colors?"
And so it was that I found myself shouting at the Captain of the Guard, with Gandalf and Merry laughing uproariously. Never mind the fact that I was going to ask Thranduil for his son's hand in a few weeks time; his son seemed rather invested in running the Kingdoms singlehandedly. I rather felt the whole situation was completely doomed, and there was nothing I could do to stop it.
"Aragorn, you can't just tell a dwarven delegation you don't have time to meet them and leave them standing around the first tier for the entire morning!"
Gritting my teeth, I gave the granite piece I was shoving into the wall a final heave. As it fell into place, the five other men I was working with groaned in relief and took a brief break to hunt for something to eat. Folding my arms, I glared at the slender elven figure before me. Legolas scowled endearingly and scuffed his feet on the flagstones. We were standing in the center of the third tier, where most of the catapult damage had been done. I'd spent most of the morning helping the men refurbish the wall, under the blazing heat of the mountain sun. The reconstruction process was going as well as we could hope at three days in. Most of the second and third levels were complete along with the White Tower. Legolas insisted that the Citadel be completed first, as a symbol of the steadfast perseverance of the rulers of Gondor. Under his watchful eye, we'd managed to kick off the majority of the construction work and then some. I realized, with a jolt of dread, that I'd have no reason to postpone the coronation and subsequent marriage ceremony if we continued at such a successful pace.
Frodo and Sam were recovering magnificently. The dark-haired Hobbit seemed melancholy, now that his quest was over. But I guessed it was the sense of purpose that had left him as much as the fact that he had faced so much in order to accomplish what had to be done. I had visited them many times in the Healing Houses, and it warmed my soul to see them doing so well. Sam just seemed grateful to be alive. He attributed their whole success to 'Mr. Frodo' and wouldn't hear anything of taking the slightest bit of credit for himself. It is very hard not to admire creatures of such steadfast loyalty and love. I was more than glad to have them there, especially since times had been so dark. Merry and Pippin were an ever-present sunny accompaniment, and it seemed that all was becoming well with the world once more.
"Gimli wasn't there to greet them" I grumbled, wiping my brow with the cloth my lover passed to me. "I didn't know what to do with them."
"You were supposed to send word to Faramir, so he could show them their lodgings and set them up with something to eat" Legolas replied. "They're very grumpy you know." He sighed and perched on a piece of granite we had yet to inlay. "Gimli's upset with Gloin over something" he continued, pulling a slip of paper from his robe and handing it to me. "To greet them would be some sort of prideful breech that I can't wrap my head around no matter how many times I go over it."
"Illuvatar forbid that a dwarf will get along with a dwarf" I mumbled, unfolding the note and scanning it. "This says your father will be here in three weeks!" I gasped.
"Yes" Legolas beamed. "I'm so excited to see him, aren't you?"
I floundered for a moment, at a loss for words.
"What are we going to tell him?"
"The truth" Legolas hummed, tilting his head and inspecting a spot on his robe. He hesitated. "Is that such a bad thing?"
"It is if he decides to hang me from the Seventh Gate" I replied, leaning on the partially-finished wall.
"He won't" my love said soothingly. "Though he may throw a tantrum for a few days." He hesitated and appeared to consider his words. "He might leave" he added, as an afterthought.
"That makes me feel much better" I said sarcastically.
Legolas chuckled and hopped off his perch, coming to stand in front of me. He hesitated for a moment, before moving forward to take my hands.
"There's something I need to tell you" he said softly.
I smiled and tucked an errant golden lock behind an elegantly pointed ear.
"Hmmm, does it have anything to do with the elven peppermints I found stashed away in my bedside table?"
He flushed red.
"Those are for later. I'm being serious."
"I'm listening" I said gently.
He appeared to hesitate again.
"A long time ago, elven births were greatly reduced due to Melkor's influence on the Light given to Middle Earth" he began slowly. "During that time, Illuvatar gave some male elves the ability to carry children, in order to further his descendants and ensure them a proper future." He took a deep steadying breath. "The gift has been greatly lessened, especially under the power of Sauron's darkness, but it still remained in some."
"What are you saying?" I whispered.
He smiled, a little shakily.
"If-when the time comes-if we should decide that we would want children of our own; I have the ability to give them to you." He swallowed nervously. "If...if you still want me, after hearing this, of course."
I was stunned. I had intended to marry Legolas with the purpose of ruling Gondor with no possibility of any heir. I'd intended to pass my rule to someone who I thought worthy of taking over in my stead, perhaps one of Faramir's sons or Faramir himself. I'd never thought that children were possible in my future.
"Legolas" I began slowly, and he winced. "Legolas, you do me a great honor by proffering this part of yourself" I said softly, releasing his hands and cradling his face. A smile brighter than the sun itself suffused his face, along with the faint glimmer of tears. "I would gladly raise our children with you, it would be my greatest joy."
"Ai, Aragorn" he breathed, bowing his head. "I was hoping you would say that." We stood there for a while, in the brief moment of solitude our busy schedules allowed us. Legolas seemed nearly tearful in his relief, and I was loathe to leave him in such a fragile state, but time and duty dictated that we could not remain their long. After a time, he drew away and straightened his robe, clearing his throat. "Now" he said breezily. "Will you please go and find Gimli, and then the two of you can go and greet the delegation with the muster of two great heroes of Gondor." He smiled wryly. "I can't always hold all the glory you know."
"And you shouldn't" I teased. "It might all go to your head."
"It might" he said lightly, taking my arm and dragging me away from the construction site. "I might decide to become a great Lord and rule over two Kingdom's with you as my helpless consort."
With our laughter ringing in the air, we went to greet the dwarven dignitaries with lighter hearts; and I looked on to the coming of Thranduil with only the slightest feelings of apprehension.
If only I had been better prepared.
Author's Notes: Okay. Did I rush this? *frowns* I felt like this went really fast, not because I was impatient, but because I couldn't seem to find enough to cover. I can't keep doing a chapter every other day or my writing quality is just going to descend into some dark and unmentionable gutter. I felt like there was a little bit of crack in this section, and though I do generally write crack, that's not my aim for this story. Also, I think Frodo and Sam woke up in Rivendell, not Gondor. I take full responsibility for that slight embellishment. I listened to a lot of Enya writing this, I think it addles my brain and makes me write by tempo and not really pay attention to what I'm doing. We're switching over to Legolas POV and I feel like he's a bit less eloquent than Aragorn, that's something I need to work on. Either way we're coming out of book canon and slowly introducing where I want this story to be going...which is a little scary. Dun Dun Dun. Here comes Thranduil! Thanks for reading!
R&R