"What is it that brings a dwarf out on to the streets of Minas Tirith so late at night?"
"Elves! Can't you people make noises like every normal being?" Gimli startled and turned around, a scolding on his lips.
The exaggerated offense in his expression turned into real irritation at once when he saw Tarisilya. The two of them sadly hadn't been able to have an actual conversation so far, but by now, Tarisilya was being well-known at the court of Minas Tirith. The dwarf looked her over with an unintelligible murmur, her dark robe and the bright dress below, the number of red stains that the streetlights revealed. "Her Highness is seeing patients?" The dislike in Gimli's deep, rough voice confused Tarisilya more by the syllable. Actually, the Ring Companion had been described to her mostly as resourceful support for Men during the reconstruction.
"In this case, it's the patient's parents I went to see." Pulling back her hood, Tarisilya looked up to the lit windows of the timeworn, wooden two-story house, she'd just left. "I hope they'll hurry. And me, I can't linger either, as much as I'd hate to miss the chance to talk to you. Will you accompany me to the Houses of Healing?"
Gimli didn't show a lot of enthusiasm but agreed with a short shrug. "The boy from the fire attack?" His curiosity was stronger than that palpable, dull anger he was additionally expressing by the distance that he kept to Tarisilya.
Tarisilya nodded uneasily. "Ninor's condition has suddenly turned highly critical again. Actually, I thought, he was finally out of the woods; but he's had such bad dreams today that he developed a high fever. He's being in terrible pain once more."
The only answer was another grunt that had her look down at Gimli in growing confusion. She was tempted to just kneel down, to be able to look him in the eyes. The way he had his red-haired head lowered and was staring at the almost deserted street, she couldn't tell why he was acting like this.
"Is there something troubling you?" She knew how close Legolas was to this one special Companion and that he'd missed him very much on their journey to Imladris. Maybe she could do something for him.
"Everything's alright. Everything is fine." With exaggerated force, Gimli straightened the many layers of his dark felt clothes as if her gaze made him uncomfortable. "Nothing that Her Highness of Eryn Lasgalen needs to bother with."
That oozing sarcasm just upset Tarisilya more. So far, she had never been met with rejection because of the title she had acquired by her wedding and the Decree that her father-in-law had subsequently issued. The elves were far too happy that the millennia-old dispute between Lórien and Eryn Lasgalen was finally resolved for that. Gimli almost gave her the feeling that she had done something wrong, marrying Legolas.
She tried it another way. "My husband always talks so much about you, Master Gimli. He is happy that he can be close to you again. I'm sure once you're living in Aglarond and we live in Ithilien, we'll find many opportunities to meet."
"I doubt it." Gimli sounded only gloomier. "I have no idea how well you know your husband but my experience with that elf is that he's very quick to erase commitments like that from his memory. It seems, there's no room for short-lived friendship in the existence of a Firstborn. Don't bother, Your Highness. I'm sure, your work in Ithilien will keep you too busy for neighborly relations. Dwarves and Elves apparently just can't get along forever."
Tarisilya was dumbstruck. This couldn't possibly be the same dwarf that Legolas was always regarding with so many affectionate words. Was this all that was left of the friendship that Dwarves and Elves were singing cheerful songs about so shortly after the war already, praising how their folks were finally growing closer? "Please, Lord Gimli, wait."
When the other moved to hurry his steps, trying to leave her alone, she knelt down in front of him after all. "That you're feeling this way pains me deeply. I can assure you that my husband doesn't even know. If he would, he'd have long come to see you."
"With all due respect, Your Highness, but that is something, I highly doubt." Gimli tiredly braced himself on his ax and let his eyes roam afar. "I'm tired after all the work I did today. There's still much to take care of in this city until it will be safe. Excuse me."
"But …" The open anger on Gimli's face directed straight at her, now that she was being so close to him, had Tarisilya's heart clench. She should have known.
Legolas should have known. This bond was still far too loose to neglect it the way Legolas had by taking this trip west instead of helping out around here or start the journeys with Gimli that he had promised him. For an elf who measured time entirely differently, this was but a delay, but it had obviously hurt Gimli deeply.
"Really, it was not his intention …"
"Good night, Your Highness." Gimli didn't even let her speak but passed her by, again with quite a bit of distance, and left her standing there to vanish in the shadows.
"The Lord of the Glittering Caves doesn't behave like the High-Born Lady wishes him to, does he?" A malicious, half-drunk voice from a few feet away frightened Tarisilya. "Good to know that at least the Dwarves haven't fallen for elvish sweet-talk like our precious King."
Her jaw tight, Tarisilya straightened up and carried on, approaching the man. If he thought that he could get to her, he'd soon get closely acquainted with the anger of a she-elf. Besides, she wanted to see his face. Maybe it was one of the rebels.
"Are you too much of a coward to say that to my face?" she asked in challenge as the small, stocky shape immediately withdrew into a house entrance. "If you dare to utter things like that only in the protection of the dark, you should contemplate the truth in your words."
"Elves! You all think you're so unbelievably clever and superior! You think you can lead other Folks by their noses, huh? The one thing you can't do is actually be useful for a country for once."
It was the second time tonight that Tarisilya heard someone say the name of her kin in contempt. Not in jest this time though, like Gimli had earlier, but with so much honest loathing that a cold shiver ran down her spine. Especially because that voice had come from behind and sounded far soberer than the first one. The man wasn't alone.
Her posture stiffened instinctively, but she didn't stop, not yet.
Thanks to the security measures that Aragorn had arranged, the streets had always been well-guarded lately, and even more since Arwen's kidnapping. If these men would try to give her trouble, a soldier would come to defend her sooner than they'd even realize.
"If you hate my people so much, shouldn't you be happy that we're going?" she asked as calmly as possible, trying in vain to find the emotional distance that Legolas displayed in such situations; that always allowed him to keep a steady hand in fights as well. While this wasn't exactly a fight – not yet, a thought that she suppressed with a shudder … Losing control still wasn't a good idea. If only there hadn't been happening so much today already that had robbed her mind of its serenity, dampening her sense …
"It's the deeds of Men that are partly responsible for us leaving our common world. It's really not necessary to put the blame for that on us on top of that." She didn't manage to take a look at the first man when she passed him by; he wasn't standing in enough light for that. She should turn around, try at least to memorize the face of the other one, but quickly growing fear was choking her. If these guys had maybe not only come to talk, in a completely empty side-street like this, she was defenseless until help came …
No panicking. The gate of the sixth level wasn't far; there would definitely be guards standing there.
"Our world." The first man laughed loudly. "You hear that? Our world, she says! So where were the elves when Sauron's troops almost destroyed Minas Tirith? Where were they when our people fell by the hundreds in Mordor? What did you do to make the war end?" The scorn mixed with honest rage.
As soon as Tarisilya was in front of him, the man left his hiding place and followed her.
Unnerved by the stupid game for good, Tarisilya abruptly turned around.
She looked into the round faces, swollen up from alcohol, of simple workers who had probably never touched a sword in their lives. No matter if these men belonged to the active King's enemies or not, these people's poison had already influenced them sufficiently, that much was for sure.
"Where were we? At the first front. You should be happy and grateful that the Prince of Eryn Lasgalen led the troops by the King's side, or this city would lay in ruins. And Gondor would still be waiting for the return of the King, given it wasn't in Sauron's chains already."
"No one asked us if we wanted a King." Suddenly, there were more steps and another voice more, coming from behind again. Additional ones approached from the side.
Her heart racing in her chest, Tarisilya found that she had been surrounded without even noticing. The bewilderment that there were seriously some citizens who were so blinded had distracted her. What her father had always warned her about when they'd rode to settlements of Men on their big journey through Middle-earth back, suddenly seemed to become cruel reality. The guys came closer and closer, sporting superior, sadistic grins.
Her hand instinctively wandered to her belt, to the handle of her brand-new dagger. But what was she supposed to do with that? Striking lucky and taking out a single, unprepared Uruk-hai was completely different from eliminating a whole group at once. That she was physically stronger than a man didn't make any difference since she was hopelessly outnumbered and didn't want to kill anyone.
Especially given this night's alarming development regarding her recent patient, she couldn't risk that easily. That it suddenly looked like she couldn't rely on her healing powers like she'd used to after all, after one single kill out of self-defense, was enough of a lesson.
And there was something else worrying her. If these really weren't major enemies but citizens impressed by a few whispered words and tattered parchment, who gathered in such large groups … Then the danger had already spread further than people in the Citadel thought. She had to warn Faramir, and Aragorn, as soon as he got back, together with one of her best friends, hopefully. For that, she had to get off this damn street first though.
"Stay back!" She did her best to sound commanding but that had somehow worked a lot better in the meeting in the evening. The hand on her dagger was trembling.
"So rude, Your Highness?" One man reached out for her, only laughing even louder when she flinched, running straight into another one who yanked her arms behind her back and held her tight whereupon the cloud that was the smell of wine on his breath almost made her retch.
"You don't send your patients away, do you? Does a simple citizen not deserve the same treatment?"
"If the simple citizen doesn't want a special treatment by my ax, he takes his dirty paws off Her Highness immediately."
The sound of Gimli's voice at the end of the street had the men scatter immediately. The man behind Tarisilya pushed her away from him roughly and ran off with his friends as quickly as he could.
Gimli didn't dream of pursuing them but leaned over Tarisilya. "Did they hurt you?"
"Only my pride." She happily let him help her up, squeezing his shoulder gratefully. "I … Thank you. Why did you come back?"
"Because the effect of too much ale has lessened and I remembered my manners. Other folks often like to forget that, but Dwarves have those too." He shifted from one foot to another in embarrassment. "You don't just leave a woman standing there. Come on. The Steward has to learn about this."
Tarisilya just nodded. She sensed that Gimli still didn't like her very much. In his eyes, it had to look like she was responsible for Legolas neglecting him so much which wasn't even wrong, in fact. It was up to Legolas to settle this with him. She could only try to gain the friendship of Gimli whom she'd just become just as fond of as of Aragorn.
"I wish I would have gone with Legolas. A few of these people are really dangerous." She looked up at the sky in sadness, turning towards where Legolas and Aragorn were being right now, searching for someone for whom it was maybe too late already. A thought that immediately tried to elicit tears. Frantically trying to distract herself all day couldn't wipe it out that maybe one of her closest friends would never be there for her again with her wise words and her passionate character.
"Nothing will happen to him," Gimli remarked lightly. "He's come back unhurt from almost every battle so far, hasn't he?"
"Exactly. Almost. So we better hope that we can deal with Aragorn's enemies for good soon."
"As if that was so easy. You clearly haven't spent the last months on these streets," Gimli replied through his teeth. "You can never underestimate these people; you should just have noticed that. That's a mistake that Aragorn should stop making, too."
"Believe me, Lord Gimli …" Shivering, Tarisilya thought back on the anger in Aragorn's eyes this morning. The worry about someone who was more important to him than anyone else. "He knows that now."
After a few feet, she put on the hood of her cloak again, regarding Gimli's sad expression with a bitter smile.
Aragorn was once more about to lose patience. They were getting so close!
Their enemies' tracks led farther and farther into the mountains of North Ithilien. It didn't take a practiced hunter to follow them. Aragorn knew that Faramir and his people had once had a base here but not exactly where – ironic enough, given whom Aragorn was looking for here. Were there maybe even members of Faramir's people among his enemies?
No. He immediately wiped away that thought. Not Rangers. Absolutely impossible.
But then, suddenly, the track split into two trails in a narrow section of a valley. One stopped right in front of a cliff, the other changed course and led into the woods, along a continuously narrow path. After they had combed the immediate surroundings for the second time to try and make out which track was the real one, they had to face the fact that the enemies had split up into two equally large groups.
They had even arranged for signs that both units could have taken Arwen with them, seeing as blood could be found in prints on both sides. Arwen's blood, as Legolas' keen scent confirmed. The enemies obviously wanted Aragorn and Legolas to split up before they would face them. They were dealing with very skilled warriors indeed, and high treason was no longer impossible.
"They found the only thing that unhinges a Dúnadan." Aragorn kicked away a rock fragment in frustration and tilted his head back with his eyes closed.
And now? In a battle against a bigger group, Legolas and he had been relying on each other's strengths for decades. Aragorn trusted the sharp senses of an elf warning them from approaching danger, and Legolas trusted Aragorn's advantages in a close combat fight, his cover.
"Don't even think about it. It would be the stupidest thing to fall for this trap."
The consolation he half and half expected never came; Aragorn's new little friend in his saddlebag was the only one who gave a quiet, solidary bark. A sound that fortunately sounded a lot stronger than earlier already.
Legolas had dropped down on a boulder a few feet away, staring absently at the sky where the day was coming to an end at last. When the moon fought its way out from behind the clouds almost at the same time, as if it had hidden from his charge in Minas Tirith the whole time, Legolas tilted his head back against the almost vertical cliff and closed his eyes.
First, Aragorn wanted to ignore him since Legolas apparently didn't want to confide in him about anything anyway. But even when it came to his most stubborn friends, he couldn't just turn off his protective instinct.
With a deep sigh, he sat down on a tree trunk close by. "Can you manage to not blame me for my inconsiderate words from today for a moment? Right now, I'm missing the strength to try and figure first what the reason for your grief is. And we don't have any time for it either."
"I'm not angry with you, Aragorn. We both were tense and negligent. I'm just trying to clean my mind. Maybe then I can feel which direction we have to follow. Arwen and I don't have that kind of deep connection that exists between Ilya and me especially since our wedding if we concentrate on it properly, but it's there to some extent. To be able to concentrate though, first I have to get rid of what is weighing down on my soul. I just wish I knew how. Since Rohan, it feels like nothing changed for the better. As if all the suffering in the war was for nothing."
Aragorn couldn't remember when he had last seen Legolas so overwhelmed. Even when Tarisilya had been on the brink of death after the Battle of the Black Gate, there had still been a small amount of energy left in him, even though it had been only been enough for guilt, self-hate, and arguing. Now Legolas suddenly looked as if he would never be able to get up from that rock again. The thing with the baby had indeed been the final nail in the coffin for his soul that had already been so shattered since Helm's Deep at the latest.
"When I asked Ilya to marry me, her father blamed me for putting her heart in chains, so that she would be able to be parted from her family. Never have I felt the truth of his words so clearly. I thought I couldn't make it through the war without her. I bound her to me and then left her alone for almost twenty years, a few meetings at the edge of the woods aside. It's easy to hind behind duty to ease your conscience. Ilya's heart is too pure for her to blame me, but I always failed her, even today. I'm doing the same thing to her that I always hated so much about my father." His words came faster, more upset with every syllable until he had to pause, out of breath.
"It's often in the nature of our duty to hog us when actually, we have something entirely else to do," Aragorn answered cautiously. He wasn't sure how much advice Legolas was able to accept right now. But for what he was doing here right now – opening up completely, against his nature, only to help Arwen and him –, Aragorn wanted to try at least and give something back.
"You are not your father. Nothing against the King of Eryn Lasgalen, but your mother was probably the only one able to melt the ice in his eyes for some time. He fails everyone since he never meets anyone without distance. You on the other hand are giving Ilya what she's yearning for most. Or she wouldn't have waited for you for so long."
"I wish she was only waiting. She keeps on getting herself into danger because of me. She even rode through the very shadows of Isengard, just to free my soul from the blackness of death." Legolas' hand was on his right shoulder, with unwitting, massaging movements when an old pain flared up, from a scar that Aragorn knew only too well.
That Legolas was never talking about it, probably not even with Tarisilya, didn't mean Aragorn had forgotten what had almost carried off another member of the Fellowship of the Ring, when the battle against Saruman's troops had actually already been over. But delving into that would have meant, Legolas wouldn't have been of any use to him for the rest of the hunt which his friend would never have allowed; so he remained silent.
"And what did I do since they took from her the first real hope for a better life after the war? Now I'm even leaving her alone in a foreign city, on a day when I actually should be trying to make her look forward." A tremble going through Legolas' narrow upper body revealed that he was fighting tears. "I'm not helping her one bit. I should finally send her to her family until I'll turn my back on this world. She doesn't deserve a life of waiting."
"She had that chance already, more than once. She would have left if she really wanted to." A hint of harshness entered Aragorn's voice. "An elf can't be kept, not even with all the love you have when the gulls in the harbor are screaming for them. Ask ada. Apparently, you must have done something right, because Tarisilya keeps on standing by you. She could have ridden from Rohan straight into the west. Instead, she came here with you though there isn't even a finished home waiting for her here. Think about that before you just want to give up a love for many decades that can survive even things like that."
When Legolas looked up, there was finally no anger in his eyes left. It had been replaced by weak hope and gratitude. But they didn't stay there for long either once his senses turned back to their immediate surroundings; he jumped up unexpectedly.
"We're not alone."
Instead of turning around, Aragorn followed Legolas' look from the corner of his eyes. There was someone, somewhere in the thick undergrowth. With a gesture of his hand invisible to that someone, he signaled Legolas to remain calm and nodded at his bow. "You must be mistaken. These criminals surely wouldn't be stupid enough to stay here when we're so close on their heels."
Another gesture had Legolas grab an arrow within split seconds. Nocking it, he shot at a spot right next to the bush where the noise of nervous breathing was coming from.
Before the frightened scream from their watcher even came, Aragorn had jumped up. He firmly grabbed the man by the collar and tugged him out of the scrub. With his dagger put to his throat, he forced the man back to the cliff where he could easily hold him tight.
Grinning, he eyed the enemy who could only just have reached manhood. "Apparently, I was mistaken. They're recruiting children. They must be stupid and despaired."
After Legolas had faithfully collected his arrow, he came to stand next to him. The trembling of the boy who did really seem quite small and helpless compared to them made it hard for him to bite back a laugh. One could almost feel sorry for the kid. "What do you think? Should we take revenge for the bloodstains on the way? Or do we just tie him up and get him later so you can judge him back in the city?"
"No!" The young man stared at the blade shining in the moonlight in panic. "Please! I want to help!"
"Who's to say you're not lying? So far, your people did nothing to deserve my trust." Aragorn increased the pressure of his weapon a little more and earned another choked scream.
"You have to believe me, please! Or Lady Arwen will die soon!"
"Why do you suddenly care about that? What is your name, anyway?"
Legolas' eyes quickly searched the edge of the woods; he listened towards there repeatedly to make out if there were possibly more enemies close by, but no one could be seen.
"They call me Ryscfin. I swear, I never wanted the she-elf to get hurt. But now …" Aragorn's dark expression and that the weapon was still resting on his skin had Ryscfin fall silent for a moment.
"I know you from the Battle at the Black Gate, Lord Legolas. One of your arrows saved my brother. And we're all only alive because of His Majesty. I remembered that now; I should never have let them tell me different. I can't make it up to you two after all that the Stewardaides did already; I know that. So I'm trying to do right by your she-elf-friend." He gasped in surprise when the dagger was taken away.
In spite of Legolas' doubtful expression, Aragorn put his weapon away. "He might have made a mistake, but no one lies about things like a life debt."
He took a closer look at Ryscfin, at the black hair, the narrow face, the quite slender stature. He could still see the fear in the bright, slightly asymmetrical eyes. "Where are the others? How is Lady Arwen?"
"In a cave about a mile east from here. After the first men had made the climb, they pulled the elven maid up with ropes. She's injured but not very badly, it's mostly some cuts. They actually meant to maroon her in the woods, tied up, but they haven't yet. I don't know why." Ryscfin spoke quieter with every word because the growing anger in Aragorn's eyes intimidated him again.
"They probably haven't noticed yet that I'm gone. If you hurry, you'll hopefully get there in time. There's a hidden entry. Go around the mountain a bit, headed west. That one is just guarded by two men."
"Let's go." The collapse threatening Legolas earlier already seemed to be forgotten again, or he'd suppressed it so well that it didn't influence his behavior anymore. It was exactly that distance to his emotions that he'd already built up in the war to leave behind the burdens of previous battles and focus on the next ones.
An ability that Aragorn sometimes envied him for, of which he now knew though how burdensome it could be if it pushed the essentials to the background.
Nodding silently, he hurried towards Tercelborne. "You stay here, Ryscfin. Light a fire."
"Here? But why …?"
"You'll do as you're told." Aragorn had to keep telling himself that the man was helping them, only to shut it out that Ryscfin had also allowed for Arwen to be tortured. "From the distance, your companions will believe that Legolas and I are resting here. And it keeps the wargs away from you. Here." He thrust the whelp into Ryscfin's hand. "Take care of him. You should pray to the Valar that Lady Arwen will be with us when we return. Otherwise, you'll be wishing you were back with your friends."
Without another word, Aragorn came to stand next to Legolas whose eyes were inspecting every inch of the cliff.
It must be hard even for an elf to make out details in the dark, but finally, he found the spot where scratch marks showed that the Stewardaides had climbed it.
Aragorn only understood the satisfied grin on his friend's face though when Legolas took a cleanly rolled-up rope from his belt, with a small barbed hook on its end. "I had a feeling, we might need that. From Lady Galadriel. A rope like that has already helped our Hobbit friends across difficult stretches of their path. Let's allow ourselves the same luxury."
He let the rope dangle loosely in his hand a few times and then threw it towards the said ledge with all of his strength. From his doubtful frown, Aragorn gathered that he wasn't entirely sure he'd hit. But the mysterious magic surrounding elves and their environment didn't exclude this special gift. The rope tensed and stood the first endurance test without a problem.
"Kings go first." Legolas threw the end of the rope that there wasn't much left of at Aragorn.
"How gracious, Your Highness."
Aragorn shot a last warning glance at Ryscfin before he started to pull himself up. They finally had an exact destination. Now, all that mattered was reaching it as quickly as possible.