The War of Light and Shadow

By Freddie23

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Disclaimer: I own nothing Tolkien created.

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Chapter 34 – Nothing To Lose

"Legolas?" Someone was shaking him from his sleep. "Legolas?" And it was hurting. His chest and shoulder felt as though they were burning with fire. He lifted his arm to ward off the disturbance then laid it over his chest defensively but whoever it was shaking him was annoyingly persistent and did not retreat. "Legolas?"

"What?" the Elf finally snapped in anger, forcing his eyes open. Kinnale was stood over him holding a flickering candle to light the room. Legolas was about ready to shout at the man to get out and leave him to his rest – what little of it he was able to get – but upon seeing the look on the Ranger's orange-illuminated face he instead sat up, successfully hiding the wince that threatened to pass over his features, and demanded, "What is it?"

"Aragorn."

Kinnale knew fully well that he needn't to say anything more to gain Legolas' undivided attention. Proven correct, the Ranger had to jump out of the way to avoid being knocked down as Legolas leapt up and strode purposefully from the room.

"He's next door. He won't open the door."

"Why?" Legolas asked, faltering only briefly in his steps to glance behind him at the following man.

"I don't know," Kinnale said as he went with Legolas through the doorway. "I woke up to him shouting but when I went to investigate what was wrong he'd jammed the door shut and he won't let anyone inside." Legolas found that a crowd had gathered in the hallway outside their rooms and he had to push past them to get to Aragorn's door. He blatantly ignored Kinnale when he mumbled, "I'm surprised you didn't hear his shouts too."

"Aragorn?" Legolas called to his young charge, knocking gently on the door, his ear pressed to the wood so he could easily pick up any sound from within. It took only a moment, even with the crowd murmuring in the background, for Legolas to hear soft crying from inside. "Aragorn, it's me, Legolas, can you let me in?"

For a long while the boy was silent but then Legolas heard him call tearfully back, "Go away."

"Please let me in, Aragorn."

"Leave me alone."

Leaning in closer still, the Elf assured gently, "I just want to make sure you're alright."

"I'm fine."

"Can you open the door so that I can see for myself?"

"No," Aragorn called back firmly. Even so, Legolas could still hear him crying within and it worried him greatly. Aragorn had been just fine when he'd left him to sleep earlier. What could have changed so dramatically in only a few hours? "Please leave me alone." This time Aragorn's voice was muffled and Legolas could now picture him crying into his thin pillow miserably.

"Told you," Kinnale said from behind the Elf.

Legolas turned to find the man obviously concerned by Aragorn's behaviour, especially that he was ignoring his trusted guardian, something that he was not prone to doing. However, Legolas ignored the Ranger's worry for the time being and instead asked, "Could you please give us some privacy?"

Looking about at his fellow Rangers, Kinnale could have sighed in frustration. Sometimes he felt that the exclusive relationship that Legolas and Aragorn had formed between themselves would never allow entrance to anyone else, no matter how much the Men of Bree wanted to be involved with this man who had declared himself to be their future King. Rather than voicing his discontent however, Kinnale muttered, "Sure," and then shouted to the dozen or so men gathered in the corridor to determine what was going on, "Back to your rooms now. Come on."

Reluctantly, partly through concern for their future king but also out of simple curiosity as to what was going on with the young man, the Men filed away, doors slamming behind them as they returned to their respective rooms.

"Here," Kinnale handed Legolas the candle, "you might need this."

"Thank you."

Legolas could sense Kinnale's irritation but right then he had little time or patience to worry about one man's ruffled feathers, not when his vulnerable ward was so obviously in need of his presence and attention. So, he turned back towards Aragorn's locked door, leaving the Ranger to return to his own room and sulk all he liked in privacy.

More gently this time, Legolas rapped on the door and assured, "It's just me now, Aragorn. Please open the door."

The Elf said nothing more; if Aragorn wanted to then he would come to the door, if not, well then Legolas would just sit and wait outside until the boy felt ready to come out of his own accord and confide in him, as he inevitably would eventually. Legolas knew all too well how much pressure was being piled onto the young man – to some extent he felt it too – he also knew from experience that although it may have been healthier to share the burden with another, sometimes it felt better to simply lock yourself away and just be miserable for a time. Of course, from the other side of the door, worrying about the upset boy whom he still considered to be in his care, Legolas wished that Aragorn would choose the former and speak to him of his troubles.

And sure enough, after a while, Legolas heard soft footsteps padding across the floorboards on the other side of the door. However, Aragorn did not open the door to his mentor. Rather, the Elf listened closely, easily picturing Aragorn leaning against the door.

He already knew that Aragorn was not yet ready to come out but Legolas asked quietly, "Are you alright?"

There was another long pause and if Legolas had not been listening so hard for the reply then he would have missed the words spoken next. "I dreamt of…of him again."

This fact did not surprise Legolas in the least. Given what had occurred that evening, the touch of Darkness however distant it might have been, it was only to be expected. Sliding down the wall so that he was sat on the floor, Legolas rubbed his eyes but said nothing as he waited for Aragorn to resume speaking again, which he would do once he felt ready. He knew that it wouldn't be long – predictable as the boy was when it came to the endurance of drawn-out silences.

"I saw him again." Aragorn's voice trembled as he spoke just a fraction above a whisper. "He was…He stood in a room blazing with fire. I could feel the heat of his gaze on me. It was as if…as if he too was made of the fire and it burned me. I felt like I was on fire!" he cried in a wavering voice.

"It was only a dream," Legolas assured softly. He could hear how upset the man was and knew that his words, whatever they were, would be of little comfort no matter how kindly they were meant.

Aragorn's voice was choked as he came back, "I know." After a short pause, Aragorn continued, "It felt like he could see me, like he was looking right at me through that…that thing."

"That isn't possible."

"But what if it were?"

For a moment Legolas remained quiet, trying to think of the best way to allay his young ward's quite legitimate fears. "If he could see you, we would know about it by now. And when – if – he does see you, we will have plenty of warning, we will be able to react."

"He would want me dead." The sudden calm in Aragorn's voice was troubling to the Elf and he turned his head to the door as if longing to be able to see through the solid wood but he still made no comment. "He…he wouldn't keep me alive if he found me."

"No," Legolas answered truthfully, "he wouldn't. You are a great liability to the Shadow."

Another thoughtful silence followed and Legolas could imagine the man using the quiet time to compose himself enough to continue. How far the shy, cowering boy he had met on the Old Forest Road had come. It was in a way terrifically sad, watching the loss of innocence happening right before his eyes.

"He wouldn't like what we were doing – if he knew," Aragorn continued after a while, voice ever so slightly stronger now.

"No, he would not."

"For some reason, that comforts me."

Legolas smiled slightly at this. "So it should. If Sauron is displeased at your actions then we can be certain that we're on the right track."

"Good," Aragorn sniffed. For a moment, he fell quiet again, then Legolas could hear him lean closer to the door and ask fearfully, "You'll be with me, right?"

"Of course."

No hesitation, Aragorn noticed, not so much as a second's pause in the answer. His ever-reliable, assured guardian. "You promise?" he nevertheless asked in an uncertain whisper, resting his forehead against the cool wood of the door behind which Legolas sat.

"I promise."

"Even if Sauron himself comes for me?"

"Even then."

"Legolas?" This time, Aragorn's tone turned uncertain, tentative. "There is something I haven't told you."

For a couple of beats, Legolas waited to see if the hesitant boy would continue without prompting. With equal reluctance, he conceded, asking a simple, "Oh?" Nerves fluttered deep down in his empty stomach. What could Aragorn possibly have hidden from him?

"My father…Legolas, he gave me something before he died." Legolas' heart pounded hard in his chest and a cold sweat broke out, trickling down his back and dampening his brow. There was only one thing Aragorn could be referring to even so obscurely and it scared even Legolas half to death. "He gave me something, said that I should never speak of it to anyone, that it was incredibly dangerous. But you're my…You're all I have and I…"

"Aragorn, stop!" Legolas exclaimed as he sat up perfectly straight, unable to bear it any longer.

"What? I haven't said anything yet."

"And nor should you."

"But…you…"

"Don't need to know," Legolas interrupted abruptly, hauling himself to his feet with great effort.

"Legolas…"

"Aragorn, if your father swore you to secrecy then it was for good reason. Honour his wishes and say nothing more now."

"Why would you…?" Working out the hidden meaning behind the Elf's words in his head, Aragorn suddenly realised why Legolas, who thought, when it came to his charge at least, that honesty was always the best policy no matter what the topic, was now telling him to keep the secret that troubled him the most. He thought back to that night, after Legolas had saved him from the Wild Men who'd ensnared him due to his own stupidity, when he had so frantically searched the Men's leader's belongings for the object that had so quickly attached itself to his very soul. Legolas had looked at him so strangely that night. "You know!" he boy suddenly accused as realisation dawned on him.

Although Legolas refused to definitively confirm, just his words were confirmation enough for Aragorn. "We will not speak of this ever again. And you will tell no one. Not Kinnale, not Ciaran, not Eomer. No one. Do you understand me?"

Swallowing the lump in his throat, Aragorn answered, "Yes sir."

"Good," Legolas said more sedately this time, now that the pounding in his chest had subsided somewhat and he could breathe evenly again.

"Legolas, I'm sorry."

The Elf heaved a sigh, leaning wearily back against the wall. "For what are you sorry?"

"All of this. I'm sorry I've made your life so complicated. I'm sorry you're stuck with me now."

"Well, I can hardly blame you for that, can I?"

Aragorn chuckled softly, recognising the Elf's amused tone at once. "No?"

"It was my own fault really, for playing the hero and plunging headlong into the fray with those Orcs."

"I suppose. But I'm glad you did all the same."

Sincerely, the Elf quietly agreed, "So am I." Legolas smiled softly, knowing that on the other side of the door Aragorn was mirroring the gesture, the ice that had frosted the conversation just moments before now well and truly thawed. "Could you open the door to me now?"

For a moment, Legolas heard no activity from inside and thought that despite everything maybe Aragorn was not yet ready to grant him access. But then he listened in relief as he heard Aragorn get up and unlock the door so that his guardian could enter.

Stepping inside, the Elf was immensely relieved that Aragorn appeared unhurt – if not looking a little frazzled. Nevertheless, he asked, "Are you alright?" peering at the boy in the dim light thrown out by the candle.

"Yes," Aragorn nodded, stepping self-consciously away from the Elf's inspection.

"Come, you should go back to bed. There are still a couple of hours before dawn." Legolas took his ward's arm and led him back to the mattress, carefully laying the candle he carried down on the floor. Once Aragorn was settled, Legolas laid his hand soothingly against the boy's forehead, alarmed to find it hotter than was normal. "You have a fever!" he exclaimed, concerned by the sheen of sweat that glistened on the man's flushed face.

"No, I'm fine."

"I'll get you a damp cloth."

"Legolas, I'm fine," Aragorn sighed softly, turning his head wearily away from his guardian then a frown creased his brow. "You look worse than I do," he noted.

"What?"

"Were you asleep?"

Realising that after being woken so abruptly by the panicked commander, he probably looked a complete mess, Legolas smoothed down his ruffled hair and straightened out his creased shirt. "Kinnale woke me when he heard your cries of distress," he said by way of explanation.

Closing his eyes, Aragorn breathed a heavy sigh. "I'm sorry."

"No need to apologise."

"I know how hard it is for you to find sleep."

Legolas found himself caught off guard by this comment. Certainly on occasion his ward had expressed the odd vague concern over him, but in truth Legolas had no idea that Aragorn was so aware of his problems falling into true sleep at night. He had always tried so hard to hide that fact from his charge, wanting neither to concern Aragorn unnecessarily nor bring about further questions from the ever-curious young man. Of course, when Aragorn had been a child, it had been so easy to keep the truth from him; he'd simply ensure that the boy always went to sleep early then spend most of the night occupying his mind someway, warding off his body's demands to give into sleep. He wasn't sure how he felt about Aragorn now knowing that this was the case, even though he understood that the boy's intentions were only good.

Looking back to the man, Legolas was poised to assure Aragorn that all was well with him but as he opened his mouth to speak, he realised that the man was sound asleep once more. With a fleeting smile, Legolas closed his eyes, letting his head fall back against the wall. In all the years that he'd known the man he'd never worked out how it was that Aragorn could fall asleep at the drop of a hat, disregarding all the pressures and worries building up around him; perhaps it was a Human trait.

Still, Legolas wasn't going to disturb his ward's peace out of jealousy, so he lifted his head and dragged himself to his feet. Deciding to leave the candle on the floor just in case Aragorn woke again – he was sure that given his nightmares Aragorn would appreciate the light – Legolas went to the door.

Going back to bed did not seem like a particularly good prospect; his mind was already whirling again and he knew he wouldn't be able to rest anyway. So rather than returning to his room, he banged on Kinnale's door, certain that the Ranger would still be up after the excitement of the night. He was proven correct when the door was flung open after only seconds.

"Legolas." The man seemed surprised and he peered past the Elf to check that he was alone. "How is Aragorn?"

"He is fine. May I come in?"

"Sure." He opened the door fully then stepped aside so that Legolas could enter. "So, did you find out what had him so upset?"

"Another nightmare."

"Getting rather frequent, aren't they?" Kinnale muttered as he shut the door on the dark corridor.

"Ever more so." Legolas took a moment to allow his eyes to adjust to the dark, noting that Kinnale's room was better in condition than either his own or Aragorn's quarters in Meduseld. A sign of respect, perhaps, from commander to commander.

"So, what is it you wanted?"

Legolas turned to face him in spite of the darkness shadowing each of their faces. "You know somewhat of the lands of Rohan?"

"I suppose."

Perching on a rickety chair in the corner of the room, Legolas said without preamble, "Tell me everything."

OIOI

"Whoa, whoa, wait just one minute," Eomer interjected forcefully from across the long table where representatives of the Rohirrim and Rangers and Legolas and Aragorn were all sat. A smile crossed his features but it was mocking rather than gently amused. "You expect us to just follow you into battle on a whim?"

Confidently, bolstered by his long talk with Legolas the night before, during which they had hashed out their overall plan, Kinnale answered simply, "Yes."

The blonde man slumped back heavily in his high-backed chair. "And this is a serious suggestion?" At the Ranger's frown, he clarified, "It's not a joke?"

"No joke, Commander."

"Great. So you are crazy, after all. Pity."

"Many things I may have lost over the years, Commander, but my sanity remains mercifully intact."

"To even consider such a plan would be insanity."

"How so?" Legolas asked strongly from where he sat two seats away from Kinnale. All eyes turned to the Elf who had remained so far entirely silent during the proceedings.

"Excuse me?" Eomer snapped, green eyes boring into blue in an attempt to awe and intimidate. Kinnale had to admire his boldness, futile though it may have been to even try and frighten the Elf. Certainly it was something Kinnale himself had given up on after his first failed attempt. "Are you suggesting that you know my lands better than I do?"

"Absolutely not." Legolas looked affronted by the accusation for it was certainly not what he had meant. "But I do know the world beyond your lands better than you do."

Eomer bristled at the perceived insult and seated himself bolt upright in his chair again – a show of bravado if ever Legolas had seen one. This was, after all, the man's table, his people, in his home and the newcomer Elf seemed intent on making him look a fool. But he would soon put that right. He'd knock that smug look of calm self-assurance off the face of the Elf-prince.

With a smile – or a sneer perhaps would have been a more accurate description – Eomer said, "You don't know the world as well as you think, Elf. The Orcs in these parts are not content to simply whip through the lands of the Rohirrim wreaking havoc. No, they weren't satisfied until they'd made themselves a stronghold in these parts."

Legolas looked to Kinnale in undisguised surprise and then back at a seemingly very self-satisfied Eomer. "Stronghold? Where?"

"A fortress of Men called Helm's Deep."

"Did you know about this?" the Elf asked softly of his Ranger friend and Kinnale shrugged in reply. Turning back to the gathered men of Rohan, Legolas asked, "What is Helm's Deep?"

No one seemed too keen to answer his question but when it became clear to them all that Legolas was not going to do anything but sit and wait with incredible patience for an answer, Eomer sighed and sat forward, hands clasped on top of the pitted, scarred wood table beneath him as if about to launch into a detailed lecture and taking a certain amount of pleasure in doing so.

"Helm's Deep is a stone fortress built by the Men of Gondor centuries ago. Carved into the White Mountains above the Caves of Aglarond, it was thought to be impenetrable. But when the combined forces of Mordor Orcs and Isengard Uruk-hai invaded these lands they took the fortress from us, creating themselves a stronghold to command the surrounding lands from and leaving us with no notable defences."

"Impenetrable?" Kinnale picked up on the word that had interested him the most. "It seems too good to give up on. You never tried to regain it from the Shadow?"

Eomer's head snapped up at that, his green eyes glinting bright in anger. He stood from his chair amidst murmurs of irritation from his fellow Rohirrim. Kinnale, it seemed, had touched upon a sore subject.

"You think we haven't tried? Do you know how many soldiers we lost trying to recapture Helm's Deep?" Sadness shone in his eyes now, plain for all to see.

"Who did you lose?" Legolas asked bluntly of the commander, although Aragorn and Kinnale could hear that sympathy laced the question.

For a long moment, Eomer sat frozen at the words – apparently, he didn't hear the same sympathy in Legolas' tone. Then, as if in a delayed reaction to what had been said and without any warning at all, he launched himself across the table, crashing right into the stunned Legolas opposite. The Elf could do nothing to prevent it as Eomer's weight fell down on top of him and the chair toppled backwards so that both Man and Elf inevitably ended up sprawled in a graceless heap on the floor. Before Legolas had a chance to recover from the unexpected attack, Eomer's hands were hauling him up and he was shoved hard against the wall. Winded, shocked and unable to retaliate, Legolas was pressed up against the hard, uneven stone, Eomer's strong fists, so used to fighting, slamming into him.

"You have no idea!" Eomer yelled at him, kneeing him in the groin and dragging him back up when he doubled over in pain. "You don't know what it feels like to lose someone!"

Suddenly, many pairs of hands were dragging the big man off and Legolas dropped to his knees with a grunt of pain. Only Aragorn crouched next to him. The other men were still trying to hold a furious Eomer back as he struggled to get back at the Elf for what had been said.

Finally coming to the realisation that he wasn't going get be granted another crack at the Elf, Eomer gave up on his endeavour to get at Legolas again. "Get off me." He shoved at the men holding him – Ranger and Rohirrim alike – and stepped away from them. "Get off!" Breathing heavily from his exertions, Eomer jabbed a finger in the direction of Legolas and demanded, "Keep him away from me." With that, he shrugged off the final pair of restraining hands that had remained on his shoulders and slammed out through the door.

"Are you alright?" Aragorn asked of his guardian, gingerly touching his fingers to a cut above Legolas' eye.

Having managed to get his breath back, Legolas assured, "I'm fine."

Kinnale appeared in front of him then, holding out his hand to help the Elf up. "Here." He pulled Legolas to his feet, relieved that he seemed steady despite the suddenness and brutality of the assault. "Sure you're alright?" Kinnale asked once the Elf was stood straight – he kept gripping Legolas' arm just in case he wasn't quite as steady as he seemed.

"Really, I'm fine." He then soothed Aragorn's concerns with a mere touch upon his arm and the boy smiled shakily at him in reply.

"It was his sister."

Legolas looked around the crowd of men to identify whose voice had dared to speak up and found a young man sat at the table, seemingly unconcerned by the events that had just taken place around him. "Excuse me?" Legolas asked as he wiped a thin trail of blood that had slid down his chin with his sleeve.

"His sister," the blonde man repeated calmly.

Another one of the Rohirrim answered this time. "Not dead."

His patience at an end with the vague answers he was getting from the Men of Rohan, Legolas snapped, "What is that supposed to mean?"

"She was taken. The Orcs took her."

Paling, Aragorn asked in a frightened whisper, "They took her alive?"

The Men nodded grimly, all settling back down now. However, their collective calm was broken when Legolas asked, with a bluntness that would rightly test the cool of even the most well-tempered human, "Why?"

"Why what?" the young man who had first spoken up now shot back.

"Why would they take her alive?"

"To possess one of our royal family was a big coup for them."

All the Rangers present looked up at this in surprise. It was once again Legolas who was brave enough to speak up. "Royalty? Eomer is royalty?"

"Well, that complicates things considerably," Kinnale mumbled.

He hadn't meant for it to sound antagonistic or disrespectful but that was how the majority of the Rohirrim took it. Those who were sat around the table rose to their feet confrontationally and those already up in the wake of the fight between their commander and the new Elf amongst them who seemed intent on insulting as many of them as possible stepped in closer still to the grouping of Rangers.

"You seem determined to make enemies here," Kinnale muttered into the Elf's ear.

A sign of surrender, Legolas held his hands up before him. "I meant no offence."

"You'll have to forgive him," the Rangers' commander interjected on Legolas' behalf. "Legolas doesn't have much…flair when it comes to words."

"Nor, it seems, does he possess any tact," the young man spat, although he raised his hand to get his companions to back down.

A retort was poised on the tip of Legolas' tongue but he wisely bit it back and let Kinnale do the talking instead.

"We didn't mean to offend your…leader, king?"

"Leader," a chorus of tight voices corrected.

"Right, your leader. We didn't mean to offend him. As you know, we know little of your culture or your past but we want to learn. From here on out, we have to work together."

OIOI

Eomer was pacing. He hadn't paced like this for a long time. In fact, not since the Palantir had fallen into his care. Wearing out the already woefully threadbare carpet of his chamber was not going to achieve anything. Yet, he had to do something to work off the anger that bubbled threateningly beneath the surface. Punching the smug, blonde Elf in the face had admittedly been tremendously satisfying but it had only served to lessen his annoyance for a while and now, left alone to think, his anger was building again. Yes, the urge to go in search of the Elven prince who seemed to know so much and challenge him to another round was nearly overwhelming but Eomer was surprised that when an impatient rapping came from the door that his hand was already gripping the doorknob.

He looked back to the worn carpet as if expecting to see some device that had magically transported him over to the door without him even realising. Shaking his head at this absurd notion, Eomer turned the handle and threw the door open, part of him longing for it to be Legolas. At least then he would be justified in hitting out at the Elf.

Disappointment that it was merely his Ranger equivalent at the door must have been plain on Eomer's face as Kinnale looked at him with a frown.

"Pleasant greeting."

"Sorry," Eomer mumbled under his breath. "I thought you were…someone else."

"Huh." Although Eomer had been careful to avoid using Legolas' name in front of Kinnale, knowing that the two were probably friends, it seemed that the Ranger could not be fooled. The tall man stepped into the room without invitation and set the tray he carried, bearing two mugs of curious-smelling tea down on the table. "You should go easy on him."

Eomer slammed the door so hard that the ancient stone walls trembled. "Why? That snob knows nothing about me."

"You are not the only one to have lost."

"Well, he had no right to speak to me in that manner."

Sighing, Kinnale tried to explain. "Legolas speaks sometimes without thought but he means no harm by it. Here." He handed Eomer one of the mugs. "Herbal tea." After taking a sip of his own drink, perfect for clearing the head he found, Kinnale continued, "Legolas is difficult to get on with, believe me, I know that all too well."

"And I thought we could agree on nothing."

"But once you get to know him, get to understand why he is like he is…"

"Because he's an arrogant ass?"

"Because he's lost too, more than you could know."

"And if I asked him who he'd lost, what do you suppose his reaction would be?"

"Probably exactly the same as your own," Kinnale laughed, knowing how defensive the Elf could be at times, often infuriatingly so. "Seriously though, he is a good man – kind-hearted and loyal. He raised Aragorn from a child with no thought for himself even though he was under no obligation to do so. Just give him the opportunity to prove himself to you."

"I see no reason why I should."

"Well, for a start, he will never be parted from Aragorn."

"So? That means nothing to me."

"It should. Aragorn is the future, the only way out we have. And with Aragorn comes Legolas."

"Why should I care about some young pretender to the throne?" Eomer growled, turning angry eyes on Kinnale.

However, the Ranger remained calm, almost thoughtful, as he replied, "We should all care about that boy. He could well be the answer to all our problems."

"How? By claiming the right to a throne long-since toppled? Please!" the man scoffed dismissively. "The only thing that will happen upon challenging the Dark Lord's reign is that we'll all be put to death. Where is your incentive with that in mind?" Triumphant, the Man of Rohan flopped down into the hard-backed chair placed next to the table and folded his arms across his chest.

"One look out your window should provide you with all the incentive you could possibly need to promote change. You said yourself that your people have been culled, your lands ruined, your homes destroyed. Now ask yourself this: 'what have you got to lose?'"

The air of confidence seemed to suddenly be sucked from Eomer's spirit as the words and reason behind them sank in. He seemed to shrink in his chair as if only now remembering that there truly was nothing left for the people of Rohan to lose.

"If Aragorn is successful in being the catalyst to uniting the race of Men and thus garnering enough support to defeat the Dark Lord, then you and your people will become free. Yes, lives will be lost in the process, but as a commander you must know that oft times sacrifices must be made to achieve the greater good." This time when Eomer raised his eyes to meet Kinnale's they held a shade of uncertainty. Softly, Kinnale offered, "I am sorry for your sister."

As if burnt by the kindly-meant words, Eomer flinched and looked away towards the window. "I need time to think," he mumbled, his hand running unconsciously over his rough cheek.

Kinnale laid his mug down. "Of course. But think fast, Eomer of Rohan. In two days we are leaving to liberate Helm's Deep – with or without your help."

Eomer's voice stopped Kinnale with his hand on the doorknob to leave. "That is tantamount to suicide."

"Maybe. But, like you, we have nothing to lose."

To Be Continued…