Hiya! I just wanted to say that I'm planning on updating this story regularly on every Sunday :) Sooo look out for more updates and don't forget to tell me what you think, I'll be answering reviews at the beginning of the next chapter! :D x love as always, J x

XXXI - The Bells of War

"Is this necessary?" The elleth asked, rolling her eyes as Legolas adjusted her grip on her short bow for the sixth time that morning. They had woken up early and headed to the archery range as the moon had set and still stood before the targets now, long after the sun had risen.

"Yes." He challenged, stepping back to admire his handy work. "Your grip is still tense despite the healing of your wound."

Mirren released the arrow and sighed in satisfaction when it once again hit the center of the target, laid out for them by Eomer's men the day before. She lowered her bow, sighing.

"This isn't fun anymore, my love." She hummed lowly, enjoying the tinge of pink that stained Legolas' ears at the soft term of endearment.

Gently, he plucked her hand from the smooth white wood of her bow and traced his finger along the knotted scar at her hand.

It had been over a month now, since she had all but caught an arrow in their escape from the Mines of Moria. Despite the gentle ache that seemed to throb in her palm in the moments before battle, it felt completely healed. The silvery scar that marked her skin was the only visible sign of the damage.

Still, Legolas saw the stoic-ness of her hands motion and Mirren silently admitted to herself that her use of it was not what it once was despite her years of training.

Slowly, she wrapped her fingers around his palm, so that their hands were clasped together between them.

"Perhaps Gimli would make a better training partner?" She mused, raising an eyebrow in jest as they both turned to look at the dwarf who was fighting his shadow across the field from them. "Then again… he is a little more dangerous in practice than me..."

Not one to over exert himself, the dwarf's thrusts were heavy, unpredictable and wild; it was just the thing that made him and so many of his kin lethal in battle.

"And not as beautiful either." Legolas suppressed a smile, dodging the light swing of Mirren's palm as if he had expected her reaction.

"Don't leave?" He asked poorly, "I don't trust the dwarf not to accidently kill me."

Mirren laughed, pushing him gently towards their friend as Merry eagerly joined them on the field, brandishing his shining dagger.

"I'm going to find Estel…" She told him as she knelt to collect the rest of her arrows and place them back in her quiver with practiced ease. Once it was full, she offered it to the Prince who took it gratefully.

As their hands grazed between them, Legolas saw the flash of silver gently in her eyes and stopped her from walking away. Gently, he pulled her closer and lifted one palm around the back of her neck to tilt her head and kiss her.

Surprised, Mirren's eyes lingered shut for a moment, relishing the warmth of him as their foreheads pressed together. When her eyes met his once more they were the stunning shade of blue that set his heart afire every day.

"You should do that more often." She smiled softly. Quickly, she planted another kiss, a quick and chaste one, on his lips before they parted.

Legolas smiled lazily, turning happily towards Gimli as Mirren slowly retreated towards Théoden's halls.

The Daughter of the Sea did not have to walk far, just around the stables and up the hill of Edoras, Aragorn sat alone by a small hut, eating some stew as grey clouds rolled gently overhead. He looked kingly, she thought, seeing his hair moving around him in the cool breeze. She could almost imagine him in The White City, clad in silver, surrounded by friends. He wore his old traveling clothes with a new maroon shirt underneath, but still this cloth was ripped and broken.

"You will be the King of Broken things, Estel." She hummed, smirking slightly as she sat down beside him. Not that long ago, Grima had spat onto Aragorn's hands near here as the ranger had offered to help him from the floor. That man was dead now, Mirren mused sadly, …and so many others would be before this all ended. The Dunedain raised an eyebrow questioningly and looked fixedly into her stunning blue eyes, holding her gaze as always with little difficulty,

"Is that a prophecy or are you just tormenting me?"

"You are the leader of our broken fellowship, the heir of a broken line…you are even the true owner of a broken sword." She explained, grinning as his eyebrows furrowed, and then looking at him more soberly, "…Perhaps your Kingdom will be broken too by the time we get to it…"

As he pondered her words, Mirren fixed her gaze back on the training grounds below them. Legolas still practiced with Merry and Gimli. The three of them looked carefree for once, smiles gracing their faces despite all the reasons they each held to be sorrowful.

"Have you seen the road we must travel before the end?" He asked, following her gaze.

"Some of it." She confessed, lowly. "The path of the dead…is not easily followed."

"But we must travel by that road?"

"If we want to win, yes." Even as she spoke the words aloud, Mirren knew they were true…and not completely hers. Her visions were a gift; it was fascinating to see the valar speak through them…and thus, through her.

"You are a remarkable elleth, my friend." Aragorn complimented, as if he had been privy to her chain of thought. His voice then returned to its usual teasing tone as he remarked, "The Prince of Mirkwood is very lucky."

Mirren scoffed a little, but smiled anyway. Her gaze captured by the elf as he laughed lightly at something Gimli had said. "... I will make it my business to remind him of that fact everyday." She joked, enjoying the free bark of laughter that Aragorn let out at Legolas' expense.

"Truly, my lady, your humility knows no bounds."

Mirren rolled her eyes, picking at a loose thread on her riding trousers. "My father would be proud."

The friends settled into a comfortable silence then, as a cold westerly wind drifted past them and softened the unexpected heat of the midday sun.

"Will you sit up here and wait all day for the beacon to be lit?" She asked, remembering the flash of amber, red and gold she had seen in her dream over the mountains.

Aragorn looked at her, finding it unnerving how she always seemed to know his thoughts.

"Gondor must call for aid." He repeated again, softly this time in deep contrast with his outburst in the Golden hall a few days before.

"Gandalf will see it done." She reassured him, leaning back as he eyes scanned the horizon across the plain. He must see it done, the thought to herself.

They retreated into a real silence then. For a while Mirren watched the remainders of the Fellowship below them but eventually allowed herself to relax a little, reclining on the porch of the hut leisurely. She closed her eyes to the warm rays of the sun and felt the red pressure of its heat through her eyelids. She tried to imagine her home and found she had difficultly recalling the passages past her fathers study. Was the sound of the Sea loud or soft in her bedroom and the lofty, lonely halls of Lindon?

Her thoughts sucked her in like a fresh spring tide.

She wondered how Galdor was faring on his journey back to Mithlond... If he had yet reached Galadriel and was escorting her to their homeland while she soaked in the Riddermark's sun.

Mirren lost herself in her thoughts and it was only when something blocked her skin from the heat of the sun and Aragorn hit her gently, letting out a small grunt, that she snapped her eyes open once more.

She saw what he was looking at immediately,

"The Beacons!" She breathed in more than a gasp than a shout.

Sure enough, atop the snow capped hills a red flame was erected before their eyes and was soon clearly summoning the Riders of Rohan from across the plain.

Even as she spoke the words, Aragorn was up and flying up the last of the steps. The elleth followed him swiftly, keeping on his toes even as he started to take two strides at a time.

Reaching the great Hall of Meduseld, he thrust the doors open dramatically, bursting into the chamber with a wild light in his eyes.

"The Beacons of Minas Tirith! The Beacons are lit!" He shouted, breathlessly.

Stopping up short behind him, Mirren watched the severity of his words dawn on Théoden's face as he turned from Gamling to the heir of Gondor.

"Gondor calls for aid!" Aragorn finished, stiffly, doubting, the Kings reply.

For a moment, even Mirren thought the King might turn his back on the summons. She visibly relaxed when she saw the steel in Théoden's gaze.

"And Rohan will answer." He decided, fiercely. Turning to his general he slapped him heartily on the back, looking to Eomer first. "Muster the Rohirrim!"

The Kings nephew bowed proudly, exiting the room.

Still standing by the doors Aragorn had burst through, Mirren clasped his shoulder tightly in reassurance, looking behind her to the glowing flame across the mountains.

So this is truely to be the fate of Men, she thought proudly, allowing Aragorn to pull her with him towards Legolas, Gimli and Merry who had gathered together in the hall at the sound of the unrest.

There was some relief in each of them of what Gandalf had achieved, but still the call to war was always a heavy burden.

"Prepare to leave." Aragorn told them, strength alight in his eyes, "We ride to war."

Around them, even as the ranger spoke, the bells of war began to ring.

The rest of the morning came together with the certainty of a dream.

Eomer skillfully had his men mounted and prepared to leave as Théoden arranged his war council and dressed in full battle armour. Mirren made it her mission to stay close to Merry as men rushed to and fro around the small Hobbit with little care. She could sense the growing restlessness in his heart and offered as many reassuring smiles as she could whenever he met her gaze worriedly.

"Assemble the army at Dunharrow, as many men as can be found… You have two days." Théoden told Eomer loudly as the Lords of Rohan moved from the Great Hall. Stopping for a moment, the King caught his nephews arm so that he could talk to him face to face. "On the third, we ride for Gondor… and war!"

"Will we make it in time?" Merry asked Mirren quietly behind them, watching as Eomer nodded stiffly and his the riders began to mount in the roads of Edoras. Some of the Rohirrim were wounded but all of them made little complaint as they readied their horses.

"We can only hope." Mirren murmured, unable to lie to her companion.

Beside her, Legolas offered back the quiver she'd lent him to train and the elleth shouldered it gently as he moved with Gimli towards the stables where Arod and Hausfel awaited them. Frowning, Eowyn came to stand beside them, taking his place and together they watched as her brother led his men from Edoras. The Marshall would gather men from the Westfold and meet them before the ride to battle. The thought left a question on Mirren's lips.

"Lady Eowyn…Will you ride with us?"

"To the encampment..." She answered shortly, meeting the elleth's suspicious gaze. "There… is a tradition that will get me there if my Uncle is distracted enough." She added softly.

Mirren eyed the woman almost proudly, glancing mischievously to the blade fisted in the Lady of Rohan's hand.

"I'm sure that blade will be very useful…on the road." She smiled.

"More useful than it would be here at least." Eowyn nodded.

Mirren grinned then, enjoying the stubbornness of the woman she had come to call a friend. Who was she, afterall, to say that the lady could not fight? The elleth knew they undoubtedly needed every able bodied fighter they could get.

As such, when Merry stepped forward from her other side, his small sword held aloft in his hands, she did not stop him.

"Excuse me!" His awkward cough gathered the attention of the King who turned and looked down upon him, "I have a sword. Please accept it! … I offer you my service Théoden King."

Slowly, Théoden moved over to him and raised him up from his knees.

"And gladly, I accept it." He smiled warmly, "You shall be Meriadoc, Esquire of Rohan."

Grinning, the Hobbit turned back to Mirren and Eowyn who were waiting for him.

"Esquire of Rohan." She repeated, bowing low, "Master Meriadoc, you have come a long way from The Shire…"

"And it seems we have farther to go!" Merry nodded anxiously.

"Let's find you a pony so you can ride amongst the Rohirrim." Eowyn decided, sweeping away the Hobbit's concerns in a way only the blonde haired woman could. His eyes lit up and he happily followed both of them down the steps to the stables where Legolas and Gimli were waiting for them with their horses.

"Horsemen!" Gimli scoffed from behind Legolas when Mirren joined them and swung herself onto Hausfel's saddle. "I wish I could muster an army of Dwarves, fully armed and filthy."

Mirren shook her head, she had seen an army of dwarves like that before; it seemed an age ago now and, she supposed, it practically was.

"Your kinsmen may have no need to ride to war." Legolas replied softly, his voice smoother and more sorrowful than the dwarf's. "…I fear war already marches on their own lands."

Behind him, Mirren caught the flash of Rohan's banner as it flattened out in the breeze. Men, dwarves, elves, she agreed silently, they would all affected by this foul enemy. Catching Legolas' eye she knew he was also speaking of his own homeland, of Thranduil and the other elves that loved him there. Consciously she pushed Hausfel closer to him and waited patiently for the summons to ride.

When it came, Aragorn was mounted in front of them and Merry somewhere behind; she was thankful for the presence of her friends and prayed to the valar for those who were missing. For Gandalf and Pippin, who would no doubt face Sauron's armies before them and for Frodo and Sam, who they each held in their hearts as they finally began the ride South.

Then, as Hausfel matched the pace of the King, she finally thought of Boromir, who had died to protect them all. And, although she was silent, she thought of him last and for longest because they were finally heading to the White City, along a path he should have ridden with them which was saddest of all.

It was evening when they settled on the plain. Théoden had lead them towards the White Mountains, riding hard and fast so that even Legolas and Mirren who were the most tireless amongst them desired a break from Horseback.

Dismounting, the woodland Prince turned to the elleth he loved and helped her off Hausfel before she could object.

"I don't need you to help me with every task." She muttered under-her-breath despite the light flush that graced her cheeks at his smile. Legolas merely winked mischievously and turned to do the same for Gimli.

He enjoyed the glare the dwarf gave him as he settled Gimli's boots firmly on the ground.

"Perhaps you could find us some food, my friend." Legolas asked the dwarf, "Mirren and I will find us a spot by a fire for the night."

Gimli grumbled something about elves and real food but eventually left them alone. Mirren blushed slightly at his obviousness but took Legolas' hand gently in her own and the woodland Prince gently led her around the camp that slowly unfolded around them.

"Do you remember searching for the creature Gollum?" She asked the ellon as they squeezed through a group of wounded Rohirrim.

Legolas' mouth tilted into a half smile. "Yes, although it seems like more than an age away from us now."

"I cannot help but think that we were so naïve..." Mirren mused, shaking her head a little, "But then again things felt more simple then."

Legolas nodded thoughtfully, spotting Merry and Eowyn standing on the slight rise of a hill at the northern edge of the camp. Slowly making their way towards them, the elven couple conversed quietly about their small adventures with Aragorn in the wild before the Fellowship had formed.

By the time they reached Merry and Eowyn, who greeted them with kind words and friendly smiles, Mirren was more relaxed than she had felt since the beacons had been lit in Edoras.

They sat opposite the Hobbit and the Lady as night began to quickly fall about them. Hundreds of fires scattered across the hill, revealing the sweeping army of Rohan. This was but a part of it, but Mirren already found herself analyzing its strengths and weaknesses and chided herself for her doubts. The problem with being a trained warrior was forever the war of odds that played itself out in her mind. If only she could have unwavering faith- like Arwen, She thought, but then again, Mirren supposed, her foresight would forcibly convince her to doubt no matter what.

"The first casualty of war is innocence." She finally murmured to Legolas in elvish, looking at Merry beyond the fire nervously. He was merely a child in their eyes, so young and yet... the weight of the world seemed bound to him and his friends from the Shire.

"And yet who are we to stop him from fighting for his friends?" Legolas hummed, "Are we not doing the same for Aragorn?"

Reluctantly she smiled, "Yes... But still… I worry."

Mirren leant further towards him then, so her head lay on his chest. She could hear his steady heartbeat beneath his tunic. Legolas sighed comfortably and found himself absent-mindedly winding his hands through the braids in her hair.

"My hair is knotted now unlike before...The wind tangles it when I ride." She commented, raising her eyebrows at his actions. "It infuriates me that yours stays so straight." Her mouth curved gently into a smile as she sat up to trace the small braid that kept his corn-coloured hair away from his face. Her fingers grazed his ear slightly and his breath stalled. Mirren heard it catch and smiled devilishly.

Legolas gulped slowly, watching the fire dance in her eyes. Did she know what her presence did to him? How he lost himself when he was without her?

"Well…" He started, clearing his throat, "My hair is better than yours."

Mirren looked shocked for a moment and then started laughing quietly.

"-Legolas!"

She was about to continue but she caught Aragorn's eye as he finally approached their fire.

"Estel!" She greeted happily, sitting up once more. Legolas kept his arm securely draped about her waist and smiled at the ranger.

"Join us, my friend." He encouraged.

Aragorn looked at them and a teasing smile wiped the tension from his face for a moment.

"Are you sure?" He asked mellowly, "You seem a little busy…"

Mirren rolled her eyes and caught the corner of his cloak with her hand, pulling him down to sit beside them.

"Shut up." She scoffed in a tone only he could emit from her. The elleth's eyes were bright blue despite the red glow from the dying fire across form them.

"I am happy you two have stopped ignoring your feelings for one another." He said genuinely, scanning over their joined hands; although Mirren sensed a despair and loneliness in his eyes and knew he was thinking of Arwen. "If there is one thing I have learnt from elves it is that for all their knowledge... you can still be blind."

Mirren rolled her eyes, "I'm sure Elrond would not love to hear that from you."

Aragorn smiled, nodding. "He never shall." He assured. Something in his voice made that sound too final. Mirren frowned.

Before she could say anything more, Gimli promptly returned baring food for them all. Dishing out his spoils evenly, their company ate happily for a while as the smoke from the fire separated them from the rest of the camp.

Not long after they had eaten, Aragorn once again became restless and clapped Gimli on the shoulder.

"I am thankful that you're are with me, Mirren. Gimli. Legolas." He nodded to each of them and then stood once more, walking solemnly away from the fire and into the night.

"He grieves for what he has not yet lost." Mirren observed, leaning once more against Legolas, curling into his warmth. She watched his eyes linger into the night, following the ranger as he disappeared amongst the Rohirrim.

Legolas' brows creased, "Is there still hope?" He despaired in his own way, Mirren moved closer to him, gripping his hand in her own.

In the wake of his question, silence fell. It hung heavily in the air and the others had fallen asleep by the time Mirren had sifted through her thoughts and fears for an answer.

"While we still stand there is." She assured, noting the distance in his eyes before he looked to the floor. "What is it?"

"If we make it out of this Mirren…Will you return to Mirkwood with me?"

At the suggestion, her voice caught unexpectedly in her throat and her mouth felt strangely dry… Mirkwood? She had longed to go back there for many years when she still had not acknowledged the feelings rooted inside of her that she held for the Woodland Prince. The greenwood forest had always been a refuge to her, even if her presence had been more of a hinderance to it's ruler than a help throughout the years.

Legolas went to withdraw his hand from hers but she only gripped it tighter, shuffling towards him do that her body rested over his, with the ellon balancing her with his left arm. In his eyes she read the slight hint of hurt she thought he might be feeling.

"It's just- I miss the sea." She confessed, looking into the blue of his eyes. It was only truth and that was all she could tell. The slight curves of Legolas' mouth dropped a little but he gently raised her palm to his lips and lightly kissed her knuckles.

"Then we will go to Mithlond." He decided.

"Together?"

"Together."

"I have to make peace with my father... And then-and then we will go to Mirkwood together." She squeezed his hand tightly with her own and then lowered her gaze once more; stopping this time at the glint of her mother's brooch, resting still over Legolas' heart. The moon and the sea. Tracing it with one finger, she could feel Legolas' gaze fixed upon her and the shallowing of his breath as she lay her palm flat across his firm chest.

"I'm entirely in love with you Legolas." She whispered lowly. The tone of her voice snagged on the sound of his name so that it became something private, between them. The words made the Prince shiver and he thread his hands through her soft hair once more, bringing her face closer to his own.

"And I you, my love." He breathed, crossing the small distance between them to kiss her deeply.

The pressure of his lips bought a small moan from her and Mirren blushed deeply, pulling him closer still. The ellon merely grunted in amusement, cupping her cheek with his palm so that his fingers could trail across the point of her ears and thus make her come undone around him.

They remained wrapped in each other and blind to the rest of the camp until the first of dawns light graced the small hill and the calls to war sounded loudly over the plains once again.

Hope you enjoyed! Definitely a fluff filled chapter before some more hard hitting angsty stuff hits us imminently! x J