The War of Light and Shadow

By Freddie23

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Disclaimer: I own nothing Tolkien created.

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Chapter 44 – The Fates

"Well, you are healing up satisfactorily," the healer informed his reluctant patient, lowering Legolas' shirt back down once he had finished his inspection.

"As I told you, Valon. Perhaps next time you could heed my assurances rather than insisting on performing this ridiculous ritual every day," Legolas grumbled as he awkwardly tucked his shirt into the top of his trousers, adjusting the ill-fitting belt to ensure that they were secure again.

"And in fine spirits as usual," Valon grinned as he stood, taking a moment to dust down his own trousers with his hands before extending a hand to help Legolas to his feet.

"Thank you."

"Now, you must take the opportunity when we pause for the night to actually get some rest. Not prowl around the campsite all night waiting for dawn. All this travelling after such an illness is bound to be tiring and it will not do to exhaust yourself."

"I am not exhausting myself," Legolas told the healer somewhat curtly as he climbed up to his feet with unusual care, although pointedly rejecting the healer's helping hand, and unfortunately betraying the pain that still lingered within him. "I can handle walking. And I do not prowl."

"That I do not doubt. But nevertheless, you must sleep, Legolas, or you will not recover."

Glancing around, mindful of the others nearby who may have been listening to this conversation despite the healer taking the time to seek out privacy so that he could examine the proud, stubborn Elf, Legolas nevertheless said softly, "Please lower your voice." He did not particularly want the men of Bree and Rohan knowing all about his business.

"My apologies. But my advice still stands."

"Right," Legolas said dismissively, already going to walk away, buttoning up the top buttons of his shirt as he went.

However, Valon grabbed the Elf's arm, effectively preventing him from leaving, at least not without causing quite a scene, which he very well knew Legolas was trying hard to avoid. Blue eyes shot immediately to hand that dared grip him in such a manner, obviously startled by the unexpected action. Not many amongst the Men would dare handle the Elf in such a way, preferring to give the unpredictable creature his space; although whether it was through respect or fear was still unclear, but Legolas had never questioned the great fortune either way.

"Unhand me, please." The request was polite enough but the tone low and dangerous.

Boldly refusing to do as commanded, Valon in fact tightened his grip and moved closer to the Elf, whispering, "Look, if you don't want to take care of yourself for your own benefit, then think of Aragorn. The boy worries for you almost constantly; it is plain to see on his face."

Damn, the physician was smart. Using his own ward; the thing he cared about more than anything in this world, against him. Yes, this healer was very clever, Legolas decided with a certain amount of respect growing beneath his outward indignation. For he too had seen the honest concern on his ward's face, shining in his eyes, even when, now that a week had passed on the road leading away from Edoras, Aragorn no longer pestered him constantly. It had been easy, Legolas had found, to slip back into his old ways without the boy's annoyingly persistent nagging to remind him. Guilt washed over him. He was supposed to be making life easier for Aragorn, not more difficult.

"Now, do you promise to do as you're told?" Valon asked, realising he'd gotten through, on some level at least, to the stubborn Elf.

Swallowing thickly around the lump that had become lodged in his throat, Legolas nodded, adding a quiet, "Yes," for reiteration.

"Alright then." The healer gently released Legolas' arm then patted him on the shoulder to show no hard feelings for the firmness of his approach. "Go get something to eat then go to sleep. You will feel better for it, believe me."

Again Legolas nodded, feeling rather like a naughty Elfling after a scalding for doing wrong. "Thank you," he politely said to Valon as he stepped past the kindly man to return to where he and Aragorn were staying the night on the edge of the camp. They spent most of their time now apart from the Men as Legolas still seemed to be out of favour with many of them; he had not yet been fully forgiven for his deceit.

"How did it go?" Aragorn asked eagerly at his appearance, as he always did when Legolas returned from his daily examination by Valon.

Legolas looked up sharply at the sound of the boy's overly cheerful voice enquiring after him and saw in the dimming daylight the eagerness plainly on his ward's face. For some reason, Legolas found his throat constricting again as the shame and guilt washed over him. He knew why he felt this way, although it hurt to admit it. He was a disappointment to his trusting young ward and that was not how it was supposed to be. Aragorn had made no pledge to his father on his deathbed to care for the Elf who was named his guardian, he had never promised to look after Legolas until the end of his cursed days here on Middle Earth. And yet here Aragorn was, burdened, along with so many other things far bigger than a worn out, exiled, useless prince, with a guardian who had effectively ceased to be.

"Legolas?" Aragorn asked with a frown, laying his bowl of thin broth down on the ground by his feet, even more concerned by his mentor's distant silence. Usually that meant something was wrong. Generally, when he asked his guardian how his time with the healer had gone, Legolas would snap out a quick, rough reassurance and they would get on with their night, both ignoring the tension the question always brought out in each other. Neither would normally dare to mention it again. This silence in response to a probing question from his ward was uncharacteristic for the Elf. "Is something wrong?"

Shaking his head slightly in an action designed to clear his thoughts, Legolas offered the man a smile that felt so horribly shaky that it couldn't have looked any good and answered, "No, everything went fine."

"What did Valon say?" Worry, unconcealed, shone in light grey eyes and Aragorn stood slowly from his place as if bracing himself for any bad news the Elf had to bear. "You do not look yourself tonight."

Finally realising that he was actually adding to Aragorn's anxiety by acting so blatantly out of the ordinary, Legolas cleared his throat and said more clearly, "Valon said nothing other than I am healing well. Everything is good."

Aragorn looked the Elf up and down, scrutinising his appearance to note any differences since the last time he had laid eyes on him. "You do not seem well to me, Legolas. Valon didn't say anything…bad, did he?"

"No, nothing bad at all. I'm just fine, Aragorn, I promise." Legolas hoped that the reassurance sounded more convincing to Aragorn's ears than it did to his own.

Unfortunately, it did not and Aragorn remained stubbornly unconvinced. However, not wanting to push Legolas further for answers, he slowly nodded his head then asked cheerfully, "Do you want some broth? It's a Rohan recipe and it tastes far better than anything clobbered together by the Rangers."

Legolas opened his mouth to reject the offer but, recalling the concern in Aragorn's eyes moments before, changed his mind and instead answered, "Yes. Why not try some Rohan food for a change?"

His face lighting up at the unexpected turn of events, Aragorn took Legolas' arm and guided him to sit by the fire. "You sit down and watch the fire and I'll go get you a bowl."

Doing as he was told, Legolas lowered himself carefully to the ground, mumbling, "Best say that it's for you. If they know it's for me they may very well season it with dirt."

As he left, Aragorn shot his guardian a wry smile, wondering briefly whether Legolas was really kidding or not. If only the Men would just put all this bad feeling behind them then things could return to what passed for normality now. Of course, it would help if Legolas would just apologise to them. But the Elf was tirelessly stubborn and Aragorn knew it wasn't going to happen.

When he returned, Aragorn found his mentor staring listlessly into the flames of their small fire. In his hand, the Elf held a thin twig and was absently peeling away the bark with his long fingers. He was obviously lost in his own thoughts as he didn't seem to notice Aragorn's approach. This in itself was unusual and Aragorn found himself considering again what was troubling his guardian.

"Legolas," Aragorn prompted, touching his fingers to the Elf's shoulder to rouse him.

Blinking rapidly, Legolas raised his head with a smile. "Thank you," he said, taking the small bowl of food – still a larger portion than would normally be dished out, he noticed – from his obliging ward. Under Aragorn's watchful gaze, Legolas slowly ate the contents of his bowl, every last scrap. He still had little appetite but he was grateful for the food offered and would never be purposefully wasteful when there was so little to go around anyway.

"I haven't seen you eat so much in months."

"Well, Valon told me that I must do so if I wish to regain my full strength."

"You're listening to the healer?"

"Of course." Legolas laid the bowl gently down on the floor between his feet and turned his eyes up towards the skies.

Aragorn chuckled softly after a moment. "Alright, what is wrong with you?"

The Elf actually laughed at this and his heart felt suddenly lighter in his chest than it had done in a long while. For now the ache that often resided in the pit of his stomach had faded almost into insignificance and the fierce pain in his side had eased to be properly bearable for the first time in weeks. He found himself becoming pleasantly drowsy in the heat of the fire.

Gentle hands laid a blanket over his shoulders but this time he did not protest at the attention.

"Why don't we join the Rangers tonight?" Aragorn suggested, glancing over to where the Men gathered around the larger fires, enjoying each other's company during their respite.

"You may go, Aragorn, but I fear that I may not be entirely welcomed."

Aragorn looked Legolas over again. Despite the fact that the Elf's countenance was more relaxed than it had been for months, he was still worryingly pale and this sudden change was disconcerting. "No, I won't leave you alone tonight," he decided, leaning back so that he was looking upwards at the sky.

"Why ever not? Valon has declared me to be perfectly well."

Making a dismissive gesture towards his guardian, Aragorn told him, "You do not seem yourself."

"In what way?"

"I don't know. I can't say for sure."

Legolas smiled thinly and looked to his ward. "You worry too much for me."

The young man averted his eyes back down to the ground, undecided as to whether or not speak what was on his mind. Of course, Legolas noticed this indecision immediately in his easy-to-read ward and said nothing, waiting patiently for the boy to get up the courage to speak or to bow out of the conversation entirely.

"Legolas?" Aragorn started, still not daring to raise his eyes to meet those of the Elf. "When you were…fevered, delusional during your illness, you…you spoke, said some things."

"What kind of things?" He remembered very little of his dreams during his time spent in the healing hall of Edoras and now he feared what he may have said in the throes of fever that he might regret speaking before his ward. What exactly had Aragorn heard?

Now that he had started though and seen his guardian's initial reaction, the boy seemed reluctant to continue, uncertain whether Legolas would allow such an invasion of his privacy. When he finally dared to look up, however, Legolas was watching him in calm anticipation, waiting for whatever his ward had to say to him. So, he started, "What does…'ada' mean?"

Legolas' eyes widened slightly. He could not recall ever using that word around Aragorn, although he supposed that it did actually make some sense that he had spoken it whilst he was unwell and in the throes of fever. He had dreamed of his lost home more often than not and he vividly recalled seeing his father's face as well.

"It means…It is Elvish for 'father'," Legolas answered after a while of thoughtful – or was it fearful? – silence. He found that he could not refuse to answer Aragorn's innocently meant question.

"Oh." Uncomfortable with the unexpected confession, Aragorn stared into the fire for a moment before returning his gaze to his guardian. Now that he had started, he figured he might as well continue with his compulsive questioning. He might find out something he hadn't known before about the person who was assigned his official guardian. Quietly, he asked, "Is that what you were seeing as you slept?"

"My home, my father. Quite natural, I would say."

"Yes, of course." Offering some small consolation, Aragorn told him, "I still dream of my father. I see him as he might now have been. My protector." He smiled softly at the pleasant thought of his father, not as he had last seen him – dying and scared – but rather as he was before he had first gotten sick and they had found themselves in the cruel clutches of the Orcs. It was of great comfort to him, even with his guardian ever-present to protect him. Legolas' face, however, was not tranquil, but rather held that familiar glimmer of pain and torment that Aragorn had seen countless times before. "What was your father like?" he asked all the same.

Immediately, Legolas opened his mouth to snap out a strict refusal to answer but then he thought better of it.

"My father was…strong. He was always strong, right up to the end. He was a great ruler; feared and loved in equal measure for he adored his people above all and fought hard for their safety and happiness." Legolas smiled softly at the memory of his father overseeing court, answering the questions and fears of his subjects, even though it burned hot in his chest. "And he was a kind father. The best one could hope for."

Aragorn smiled in turn at the praise, the gentle smile gracing the Elf's lips. "What was his name? I can't recall you ever telling me."

"Thranduil." The name sounded so strange coming from his mouth for the first time in decades and his chest burned so hot that he had to raise his hand in a futile attempt to cool it. Realising that he had closed his eyes involuntarily, Legolas opened them to find his ward watching him with open sadness. With difficulty but determination, Legolas pushed the dark thoughts to the very back of his mind where they resided buried carefully behind painstakingly constructed walls. He smiled then and said, "That does not matter anymore."

"Legolas…"

"Go join the Rangers, Aragorn," the Elf told him softly.

"What about you?"

Pulling the blanket tighter around himself, Legolas answered, "I'm going to sleep, so I will not even be able to miss your presence. Go on."

"Well, if you're sure."

"Absolutely sure."

Legolas knew that it was important that Aragorn continue to mingle with the Men. He would, after all, one day be required to command them so it was imperative that he not distance himself from them now, even if Legolas himself remained, at the moment, very much an outsider. Keeping Aragorn by his side was not viable and tonight when he felt like just being alone, was perfect.

Once Aragorn had left him, after several uncertain glances back as he left, Legolas slowly laid down on the ground close to the fire. He was tired, so following Valon's instructions wasn't going to be difficult.

OIOI

"What? What is it?" Aragorn exclaimed, gripping Legolas' arm so tightly that surely it must have hurt them both although neither seemed to feel it. "Legolas, answer me!"

Legolas, however, continued to stare blankly off into the distance, looking but not seeing. Water poured in heavy drops from the dark grey skies above, drenching Man and Elf entirely but Legolas paid the weather absolutely no heed.

"Aragorn? What is wrong?" Kinnale called above the roaring of the rain as he caught up with the pair. He peered at Legolas and took a step backwards in surprise. Legolas' face was so pale that it was not natural and his eyes were glazed as if he had descended into a living death where he stood. "What's the matter with him?"

Wild panic dancing in his eyes, Aragorn snapped emotionally, "I don't know! He just…stopped suddenly…" Looking into Legolas' blank face, Aragorn asked again of his guardian, "Legolas? Are you all right? Please answer me."

Still Legolas made no attempt to reply, as if he couldn't even hear his ward's desperate pleas. Doing the only thing he could think of, Aragorn put his hands on Legolas' shoulders and tried to shake him out of it. He was frightened – partly because Legolas was not responding but also because he had seen this state in his mentor before. On the road to Rohan, Legolas had frozen in the same manner, stared into space, both alert and distant at the same time. Aragorn tried to remember the details of that day but they were so fuzzy; so much had happened since then.

"Legolas, come back to me, please." It was so soft that only sensitive Elven ears could have picked up the words. Yet it still had no effect.

"Kinnale, help," Aragorn turned to plead to the clueless Ranger.

At a complete loss as to how exactly to help, Kinnale shrugged helplessly.

"Thank you," the younger man ground out in aggravation.

Just as he was looking desperately around for another source of aid, a strong hand fell upon his shoulder, making him literally jump in surprise.

"We have to go!" Legolas voice came above the sound of hammering rain, hoarse but urgent at the same time, as he gripped Aragorn's arm so tightly that it hurt. When the two men before him did not immediately follow his command, Legolas shouted at them and those surrounding him, for the group had all stopped whilst Aragorn had tried to rouse his guardian, "Now! Hide!"

The request was ridiculous. There were over two hundred of them – Men, woman and children – there was no way every one of them could actually hide. So, they stared in confusion at the Elf, who in turn stared back at them expectantly. In his continued confused state, he couldn't understand why they were just standing there, completely unresponsive to his warning.

"Legolas, are you well?" Kinnale asked of him as murmurs came from amongst the crowd.

"Kinnale, we have to go now."

The man shook his head, took a step closer and said softly to the prince, "No, my friend, we should take a moment." In a whisper, he added, "Clearly you are not well."

Reaching out to the man, Legolas grabbed his arms, fear shining in his eyes, and instead said, "We must move, get away from this place." His eyes darted all around then, although what he was searching for no one knew. "Something isn't right."

"Legolas, you are trembling," Kinnale exclaimed as he took the Elf's arm to steady him.

"Something is wrong," Legolas cried out, desperately wanting them to understand. His senses weren't just tingling at the disturbance in the air, they were positively screaming at him. Unfortunately, he seemed to have been struck inarticulate and could not communicate this to his friends.

"What?" Aragorn asked hurriedly, his eyes wide with panic. "Should I fetch a healer?"

"No." Legolas shook his head desperately. "That's not what I mean."

"Then what?" Helplessly, Legolas shook his head again, unable to explain. "Kinnale?"

Looking skywards, Legolas murmured to himself. "I don't know what."

Kinnale gazed into the Elf's upturned face for a moment and his features did nothing to ease his worry. Legolas' naturally pale face was now completely devoid of any healthy colour, a sheen of sweat coated his brow even as he trembled and his hands left unnaturally cold to the touch.

"Aragorn, run and fetch Valon, now," the Ranger commanded decisively.

Legolas looked back down at the man in confusion and said shakily, "I have no need of a healer."

The assurance had no effect on Aragorn whatsoever and he immediately dashed away through the crowds in search of the healer who had previously tended to Legolas' injuries. "Come and sit down for a minute," Kinnale told him, pulling him gently by the arm to the edge of the crowd.

Resisting only slightly, Legolas protested, "I do not need to sit. I am not ill."

"You are not well."

"I will be well once we're on the move once more."

"Whatever has you so spooked can wait while you sit quietly for five minutes and regain your breath," Kinnale insisted, helping Legolas to sit down on the grass. "Here, drink something."

A flask was thrust into his hand and Legolas raised it to his lips, hoping that it was simply water and not the Ranger's potent alcohol; that would do little to clear his confused mind. He paused in the simple action, however, when he found that he couldn't keep his hand steady. The flask shook horribly and Legolas raised his other hand before his face to confirm the tremor. It was perhaps not surprising that he trembled, he rationalised despite his shock. In the wake of – whatever had happened to him – it felt like his blood had frozen to ice crystals in his veins; his chest ached fiercely with the cold and his head pounded almost unbearably in the beat of a warning. Something evil had touched him and it still caressed his mind.

"Legolas? Look at me," Kinnale's voice demanded and Legolas blinked to find the man crouched before him, staring into his eyes with concern mixed with intent, one hand holding the base of the flask to keep it steady. "Are you all right?"

"Yes, I am well."

"Move aside. Let me through." Valon the healer fought his way through the crowd that had congregated to see just what was going on with the strange Elf. When he reached Legolas, he knelt down before him. "How are you feeling?" he questioned without preamble.

"I am not entirely sure."

Not exactly the answer Aragorn had been hoping for as he stood anxiously awaiting the healer's diagnosis. To him, Legolas seemed almost unnaturally dazed and it had not improved in the time it had taken for him to track down Valon.

"Well, let's take a look at you."

A quick examination showed that, aside from the completely understandable inflammation around the wound still decorating the side of his abdomen, the Elf was physically in fair health; certainly he was no worse off than he had been when last examined. There was no sign of fever that may have indicated delirium as the cause of the Elf's strange turn.

And yet, despite him appearing to be in good health, Legolas remained obviously distant and distracted. Blue eyes gazed constantly upwards as though searching the skies for some indeterminate danger. This, in turn, also put the others on edge – Kinnale and Aragorn especially. With the Elf so unsettled, they too now felt the urge to flee from this place with all haste, as Legolas had advised. But they stood determined to wait until the healer had given the all-clear. Legolas' health would not be jeopardised for the sake of a case of the jitters.

"I can see no physical signs of ailment. No fever, which is a blessing," Valon declared, rocking back on his heels as he continued to crouch in front of Legolas. It frustrated him that he couldn't find a cause for this strange turn.

"Is that good or bad?" demanded Aragorn with unusual impatience.

"Good, surely," put in Kinnale. Whilst he'd sent the other Rangers and Rohirrim away to give Legolas some space to breathe, the commander had continued to loiter nearby.

"Good in the sense that his injury has not worsened but then there appears to be no explanation for this strange turn," Valon explained. He was a healer, trained in medicine and he liked how the lore of healing could explain any condition of the body with basic logic and knowledge. That he could not seem to determine what was causing these unusual symptoms in Legolas was frustrating. Perhaps, he reasoned to himself as he pressed his fingers to Legolas' wrist to check his pulse, this was some ailment confined to the race of Elves, in which case he had little hope of identifying and rectifying it. "Your heart rate is improving," the healer announced in relief when he noticed that Legolas' pulse was no longer pounding quite so wildly. Just moments before, the Elf's heart had been beating so fast that Valon feared it would do the Elf lasting damage should it continue for too long.

"I feel much improved," Legolas assured all those surrounding him. The fog was beginning to lift from his mind, leaving him able to think with more clarity and he realised that his friends, still gathered around him, all looked deeply concerned. "Truly."

Valon looked up at Kinnale and said, "I recommend pausing for a while."

At this, Legolas shook his head firmly, at the same time getting to his feet. "No, that is not necessary."

"Legolas, if Valon recommends it…" Aragorn started to reason but was cut off.

"I am quite well, Aragorn, as Valon himself has stated, and I am perfectly capable of walking."

Valon quickly put in, "I said that you seemed to be physically well, master Elf. But you are still worryingly pale. I would not want you to over-exert yourself."

"I will not."

With a sigh, Aragorn groaned, "Legolas, do not argue."

Suddenly, Legolas' face turned upwards again, panic glinting in his eyes. This was no false alarm though, no intangible feeling pricking his senses.

"Get down!" Legolas yelled in warning.

No one reacted to the initial shout, stunned into inaction by the sudden command. However, upon seeing this, Legolas grabbed Aragorn and forced him down to the ground, covering his ward's head and his own with his arms to shield them both before the threat reached them.

"Kinnale, get down!" Legolas shouted urgently when he dared a glance up to find that he and Aragorn were the only ones on the ground and everyone else was staring in confusion or fear; not of what might be coming but rather that the Elf had finally snapped.

From amongst the crowd, someone yelled, "Commander, look!" and pointed up to the clouded sky.

Everyone's eyes followed the direction the man was pointing in only to see a vast cloud, blacker than any others drifting in the bitterly polluted atmosphere and moving too fast to be anything so innocuous. It was mere moments before the source of this preternatural dark cloud became apparent and panic rippled through the watching people.

"Crebain! Get down!" Eomer yelled and similar shouts of warning went up amongst the men.

The Crebain of Dunland were big, black-feathered crows, spies of the Shadow and by no means unknown to the Rohirrim. Far from simply spying upon their enemies though, these creatures were also notoriously vicious if provoked. Aiming arrows at them did very little good because they generally moved in great flocks across the lands, making it impossible to fell every one of them. Usually, the Crebain flew over the villages of Rohan, taking special interest in Edoras where the Shadow knew the survivors of the purge dwelt.

In their current position, on a well-known route and completely exposed, it would be impossible to hide their position from the crows of Dunland but they could at least attempt to shield themselves from the flock's attack as Legolas had already done.

The noise of the birds was dreadful as they, as one being it seemed, swooped low over the Men. High-pitched calls were almost drowned out by the sound of the loud beating of many wings through the air and the Men instinctively covered their ears to muffle the racket. Sharp claws scratched and ripped at exposed backs as the crows broke over them, screeching and squawking and flapping. Cries of pain erupted from the Men and they tried to attack the creatures raining down upon them with swords but there was no defence. All they could do was wait for the vicious creatures to pass them by.

It wasn't long before the birds grew tired of pecking and clawing at the terrified men, women and children and as one they soared back up into the grey skies, retreating to report back to their master on what they had discovered on their patrol.

As the chaos of the sudden attack slowly died down and the squawking and beating of large wings grew distant, Eomer lowered his scratched arms from where they had shielded his head from the mobbing and lifted his head. Black feathers and fluffy down drifted listlessly through the now still air but none of the birds remained any longer, fleeing once they had had their fun.

Slowly, the people started to rise from the ground where they had cowered now that the danger had passed them by. Children began crying, frightened by what had just happened, and the warriors uselessly drew their weapons once more, more for comfort than anything for there was nothing left to fight.

"Is everyone alright?" Eomer shouted above the noise, looking about at the gathered Men for any injured.

Automatically, he sought out Aragorn, worried that the younger man may have been hurt in the assault, but fortunately he seemed well enough as Legolas helped him to his feet. Eowyn too was unharmed, much to his immense relief. In fact, besides a few scratches and bruises there seemed to be surprisingly few injuries. Certainly, the birds, although larger in size and greater in strength than ordinary crows, could not cause any serious harm to the Humans.

"Kinnale!"

Eomer looked around sharply for the source of the loud bellow. It was clearly Janor's voice but he could not see where it came from. He noticed that Legolas had also heard and was searching the crowd for the Rangers.

It was the Elf who spotted the man first and suddenly it was Legolas calling for Valon the healer. Eomer ran over to the Elf, reaching Kinnale in the same instant as the summoned healer. Kinnale was sat on the ground, having been helped up from his front by Janor. One hand was covering his left eye. Through his fingers copious amounts of blood was dripping.

Breathing hard, the Ranger was clinging with his free hand to his second in command and pain was etched onto the blood-caked features that were left exposed.

"Let me see," encouraged Valon, trying to prise Kinnale's hand from his face. "Lower your hand so I can take a look."

It was plain that the man was in utter shock. The skin visible between streaks of blood was deathly pale and the Ranger trembled uncontrollably.

It was Janor and Legolas who between them finally managed to pry Kinnale's arm down so that the healer could get a look at the injury caused in the attack.

Eomer immediately turned away from the gruesome sight but one look was enough to burn the image into his memory forever. Kinnale's left eye was simply no longer there. In its place was a vacant and bloody mess. No wonder the Ranger was in shock, thought Eomer as he fought nausea. Perhaps the crows were not quite as harmless as the Rohirrim had always believed them to be.

In the wake of the attack, Eomer called for the party to halt for a while. He would not move on too soon after such a traumatic event. People were in shock; they needed time. As he moved through the people, reassuring and assessing their general state of well-being, Legolas suddenly appeared before him, blocking his path. Despite the shock of all that had just occurred, the Elf looked enviably unflustered.

"May I speak with you for a moment?" he asked softly.

"Can't you see that I'm busy?" the commander ground out, going to move away. He had little patience for Legolas right then.

"Yes, I can see." When Eomer walked past him to check on an elderly Rohan couple in an obvious state of distress, Legolas continued to follow him persistently. "Eomer, we cannot stay here," he went on, giving up on trying to give the man the opportunity to speak in private; he knew stubbornness when he saw it and in this mood the commander would be unmoveable. "We have to move on."

Eomer scoffed humourlessly at this. "In case you haven't noticed, people are very shaken and are in no mood to start trudging onwards. And Kinnale is seriously hurt."

"Nevertheless, we should leave."

"Do you have no feelings at all?" Eomer snapped, turning on the Elf in anger. "My people were just attacked! Do you understand that? They are frightened and shaken. Are you even aware of those emotions, Legolas?" The insult was cruel, he knew, but the man was too angry to care.

"Yes, I am."

Damn the stupid Elf's calmness. Eomer sighed then said with equal measure, even though it was forced, "We have no need to run from this place. The Crebain will not return any time soon."

Legolas' eyes drifted away from him, towards something unseen in the far distance, a troubled look on his face. After a moment, he replied softly, cryptically, "It is not the Crebain that worry me."

"Then what?"

"I am unsure. Something dark comes our way, Eomer. Something far worse than a flock of crows."

"Something dark? Care to be a little more specific?"

Legolas looked back to the man and shook his head. "I cannot."

"Great! That's really helpful, thank you."

"Legolas?" Janor approached them, ignoring Eomer completely, much to the commander's irritation. In lieu of Kinnale, it was he, Commander of the Rohirrim, who should now take control of the Rangers as well. That was the proper way things should be done. But it seemed that these people did nothing in the proper way.

"How is Kinnale?" Legolas asked of the Ranger as they both turned away from Eomer and started to walk away from him.

Casting a brief glance down at the dark blood that still clung to his hands, Janor answered, "Valon says that his injury is not life-threatening. But…he will never see out of his left eye again."

"I am sorry for that."

Janor nodded and slowed to a halt, bringing Legolas to a stop as well, now that they were in relative privacy away from the majority of the Men. "Legolas, the Rangers…we feel like we should carry on along the road." Legolas looked up sharply in surprise at this statement, at the fact that the Ranger's sentiments mirrored his own. It was a surprisingly rare occurrence. "Eomer may be unconcerned by crows who'd willingly and maliciously peck out the eyes of men but we are no so ambivalent."

"Eomer has called a halt for the night," Legolas confided in a whisper as two Rohan warriors walked close by. "He is convinced the Crebain will not return."

"And you? What is your thinking?"

Legolas again felt his gaze drawn up to the grey horizon and a shudder rippled through him, the chill that had formed in his heart before the Crebain attack returning once more. "Something dark comes our way, Janor, something much worse than…We should leave now; find somewhere to hide out until the threat passes."

"Hide?" Janor had never heard Legolas – or any other person in a position of commanding warriors – speak of hiding from danger before. Innocents certainly had to be protected and often the best way of doing so was to conceal them somewhere safe. But warriors – Rangers, as self-proclaimed protectors of the Free Peoples – did not hide. However, he then remembered how scared Legolas had been earlier. The Elf seemed no more settled now that one threat had passed them by. So, he asked, "Where would we hide?"

"Eomer mentioned this morning that there was a network of caves around about five leagues ahead of us. We should head for there."

"What is coming, Legolas?" the Ranger asked fearfully.

"I wish I knew."

Janor sighed heavily, still undecided. Even though he had been named Kinnale's Second in Command approximately seven years ago, he had never actually been required to take full command of the Rangers before. Kinnale had always had the last word, had always been the one to make the difficult decisions.

After a while of thought though, he nodded and looked back to the Elf. "All right. I'll go check with Valon that Kinnale is well enough to walk." He went to leave but then turned back to the Elf with a knowing smile. "I'll leave you with the pleasure of informing Commander Eomer of our decision."

"Thank you for that great honour," Legolas mumbled to Janor's back as he left to consult with the healer.

OIOI

As they had expected, Eomer had been furious that his decision to remain had been over-ruled and he had let them know in quite plain terms. Initially, he had outright refused to move. Let the Rangers go on ahead and push themselves unnecessarily - he wanted no part in it! Unfortunately, his unrestrained anger had, in this case, been his undoing, for as he yelled at Legolas for coming to this stupid and resentful decision in a blatant attempt to undermine him, he had also informed the Rohirrim of the Rangers' plan to head for shelter. The news had spread like wildfire and pretty soon the whole camp had been buzzing with the idea and for the most part they were eager to go too. Startled by the attack by the Crebain though they may have been, they were still afraid enough of a repeat assault to shrug off their doubts and want to carry on.

Thoroughly over-ruled and fuming with anger at pretty much everyone, Eomer had had little choice but to submit to the wants of his people.

"I believe it is going to rain," Eowyn's soft voice came from her place by his side, startling Eomer from his vengeful thoughts and he tore his eyes away from the blonde Elf walking just ahead of him and turned them instead to his sister. "Look at those heavy clouds. I hope we do not get caught in a storm."

"That would be just our luck."

Eowyn looked up at her brother who'd once again returned to staring at Legolas, and tightened her hold on his arm. "Don't be angry at them. They were only doing what they thought was best."

"Best for himself, more like," muttered Eomer under his breath.

She sighed heavily; they may have been apart for many long years but Eowyn knew her brother's impulsiveness and stubborn streak better than all too well. Nevertheless, she felt compelled to softly ask, "Why do you dislike Legolas so? He saved my life."

"And for that at least I am eternally grateful." That was indeed true. Forever would he be indebted to the Elf for the bold risk he had taken in single-handedly rescuing his entrapped sister from the filthy dungeons of Helm's Deep and their depraved masters. And yet he still found the Elven prince to be utterly infuriating. Perhaps it was his short-sightedness when it came to the rule of the race of Men, or maybe it had been his horrible deception with regards to the taking of the Deep that had cemented Eomer's opinion of him. What irritated the commander more than anything else were the airs he insisted on putting on. It was obvious to even the least observant man that the Elf cared and felt very deeply. He had, after all, fought for his kingly ward when it appeared that he was under no special obligation to do so. And he liked the Rangers, it seemed.

When Eomer had come to him that night after the fierce battle at Helm's Deep to thank him profusely for saving Eowyn's life, he thought he'd seen a glimpse of actual friendliness in usually unreadable blue eyes. And when he had been hurt, vulnerable, Legolas had become fairly likable – as much as Eomer hated to admit it. Maybe it had been because his guard had been down. If only the Elf was more like that all the time.

But he was not like that. He was…infuriating.

"I really wish you would make the effort to be nice," Eowyn sighed, briefly resting her head against her brother's arm.

Taking a moment to ensure that her coat was securely wrapped around her as the sky darkened even further, he answered with a crooked smile, "I am always nice."

"Hm."

As the woman of Rohan had predicted, the rain came moments later; a downpour so heavy that it soaked them through almost instantly. They moved onwards though, the Rangers guiding them on. The whole time, Legolas felt Eomer's gaze burning into his back and he fought to ignore it. Let the man be angry at him. There were bigger things to worry about.

"I wish this rain would stop," Aragorn said from his side.

"We will reach shelter soon."

Before the man could continue the conversation any further, Legolas moved away from him, falling into step with Kinnale, who was being helped and supported by the healer and his son Ciaran. Bearing a bandage, already spotted with blood, covering the left side of his face, Kinnale walked with surprising steadiness for a man who had been through what he had. He was pale though, and shaky and seemed thoroughly miserable with the weather.

In spite of all of these observations, Legolas asked, "How are you doing, my friend?"

"Just great, thank you," ground out Kinnale through gritted teeth.

"It will not be much longer before we reach our destination and then you can rest."

Kinnale laughed, although it lacked any humour, and said, "Look forward to it."

Although he tried his best to disguise it, Kinnale was in pain. For all the healer's skills, he was lacking in any herbs that could ease the Ranger's discomfort, which was no doubt great. Bravado was ever the mask of the brave and the stubborn though. Legolas himself knew this all too well. Kinnale would carry on. It was not in his nature to give in or show weakness.

"Would you like my coat?" Legolas offered helpfully even though the man wore his own.

Chuckling, the Ranger asked, "Will it bring my eye back?"

Lips turning up into a smile, Legolas' had to confess honestly, "That is doubtful."

"Then no, I don't want your coat."

"Very well."

Danger still pricked at his senses, proving more of a distraction with every passing minute and Legolas looked about himself almost constantly even though he did not expect the threat to be made obvious any time soon.

In spite of the fact that Legolas did not anticipate any kind of attack, great relief surged through him when at last they reached their destination.

The caves were vast. A quick exploration of the natural structure revealed a network of tunnels, some large enough to crawl through but most far too small to even fit a child. The main caverns proved perfect shelter, however – although the horses had to be left outside. Eomer stayed outside until all the others had been shepherded inside, then he too entered the cave. He had to admit that it was nice to be out of the rain.

It was deemed too dangerous to light the fires so with the lack of any meaningful daylight it was dark inside. People were packed together, once more adhering to their set groups – Ranger and Rohirrim. Legolas, Eomer noticed as he pulled off his sopping wet coat, was stood at the cave's mouth staring out into the pouring rain, heedless of the fact that he was stood so close to the mouth that he was still getting wet. Resisting the urge to roll his eyes at the Elf, Eomer sat down beside his sister and tried to rub some warmth back into his hands.

"Kinnale is resting now," Aragorn informed his guardian as he approached.

Legolas blinked to clear his mind and was surprised to find that darkness had fallen and that the people behind him had quietened down for the night. He'd been so deep in thought that he had failed to even notice.

"Ciaran won't leave his side though."

"Understandable," Legolas reasoned, rubbing his hand over his forehead. He sighed then and returned his gaze back out at the rain. "The weather has not improved."

"No. Everyone is feeling miserable." Looking his guardian up and down with critical eyes, Aragorn asked, "Do you feel well now?"

"A shadow still weighs heavily on my mind, Aragorn."

Squinting uselessly out into the night, Aragorn shuddered, a reflex that had nothing to do with the chill in the damp air.

Legolas felt his ward's discomfort and instinctively fought to reassure him. "Don't worry. Whatever is coming we can fight," the Elf smiled, laying his hand on Aragorn's shoulder.

"I hope you're right."

Again Legolas smiled, feeling that it must have looked forced, and told Aragorn, "Get some rest while you can."

"What about you?"

"I'll join you in a moment. I just want to get changed first."

That made sense; the Elf's clothes remained almost dripping wet. Normally, Aragorn would not have believed his guardian's words but in the past few days, Legolas had been sticking to his healer's advice so Aragorn supposed that if he felt tired, which he obviously did, he would rest. So, the man went to lie down, not far from where Kinnale and the other Rangers were all asleep. He was pleased to discover that Ciaran too had finally succumbed to sleep, although he remained at his injured father's side.

For a while longer, Legolas stared out into the darkness, which was broken up only by the occasional flash of lightning to reveal a quick assurance that nothing lurked out there. The heavy weight of expectation pressed against his heart and mind, unrelenting. And yet its cause remained intangible. It frustrated him to no end that he simply could not identify the upcoming threat. Stretching out his un-practiced senses did little good.

Shaking his head in defeat, Legolas pried himself away from the mouth of the cave. He got the impression that he could stand there all night long, staring into the darkness, and still be none the wiser.

After quickly changing his outer garments, Legolas laid down in the gap Aragorn had left vacant for him. Instinctively – and rather annoyingly – he found himself still facing the mouth of the cave, looking for something. With a determined sigh, Legolas turned over so that he was instead facing Aragorn, and closed his eyes. Moments later, though, he opened them again. He found that he was too on edge to feel deeply tired as he had done recently so instead of true sleep he instead settled for the more alert state of reverie.

To Be Continued…