PLEASE NOTE: AS AN EXCEPTION THIS WEEK, THERE'S A DOUBLE UPDATE! THIS AND THE NEXT CHAPTER ARE NEW. This is due to the length of the scenes and the uneven word distribution in the chapters, and also because the next chapter consists mostly "only" of a smut scene which I know some of my readers like to skip. AND it's because I'm stupidly excited about finishing to upload this series part, because the next two series parts build the height of the Stewardaides Crisis. I'm very proud of them and I can't wait to share them with you. I'm sorry for the word vomit this week though.
While it had sounded as if Arod had left the camp at a dashing pace, Legolas did indeed not seem to have made it far.
Shortly after departure, the horse that Arwen had borrowed already raised its head, flehming, and sped up with a satisfied snort. The mare was apparently attracted to Arod and did therefore quickly find her friend again. The stallion from Rohan was known to be a heartbreaker; there was probably more than one secret descendant in Gondor already. In this case, that was helpful.
It was just a short distance between the clearing that they spotted the bright animal grazing on and the stream where Arwen found Legolas then. She couldn't tell if he didn't hear her because he was too busy cleaning the wound at his side with clenched teeth or if he was ignoring her.
It hurt, remembering where he had got this ugly scar initially. It had been Aragorn who had saved Legolas from this injury given to him by a couple of Haradrim back then. The beginning of a friendship that had become indestructible in the war – until the Stewardaides had come.
"And here they always told me, a seasoned warrior doesn't know pain."
Arwen signaled Thondrar to stay in the background and sat down in the grass next to his leader.
For a few long seconds, she just eyed that face that had become so frighteningly pale, hoping to see at least a little bit of kindness in it, but Legolas still didn't seem to be willing to talk. Her – admittedly somewhat clumsy – attempts to give him first aid, he stopped with a sharp gesture as well. It was not for the first time that Arwen wished she hadn't neglected what little knowledge her father had once taught her about the art of healing so much.
"Fine, have it your way. Will you at least finally tell me then what this is all about? I don't exactly enjoy getting myself into danger for nothing or dragging the people around me into it. Before you say anything though, I'm asking you to remember who it is you're dealing with here. That the quarrel between you and Aragorn weighs down on me heavily, and that I've been calling you my best friend for centuries, that by now, I'm calling your wife my best friend as well, doesn't change that."
Arwen sighed in frustration at the continuous lack of reaction, at Legolas just pressing his lips together tightly. Maybe he just didn't know what to tell her without getting himself in even more trouble or hurting her. She hadn't missed his honest reluctance towards having to do just that in that hurtful conversation she'd overheard earlier.
She herself couldn't go easy on him anymore though, not today. "Legolas, please … I know how hard this thing at the Dead Marshes was for you, for all of you. You think it doesn't make me angry? But you can't expect me to ignore everything happening here because of it right now. Why didn't you just refuse my visit if you don't want me to help you anyway? That would have been easier for me than you treating me like an enemy. Is Aragorn right, did you really just want to demonstrate that you can get what you want? He's been yearning to make up with you for a while now, although you've hurt him very deeply. But do not think that I will sugarcoat anything when I get back to the city."
Legolas was done preparing a bandage and briefly lay his hand on the wound once more before wrapping the fabric firmly around his muscular upper body.
"Doesn't feel so good, having a sword pierce you, does it? Isn't it ironic that we're sporting a similar scar after having been saved from these wounds by the same man? Good old Thondrar back there tends to forget that I have already been around at the beginning of this Age, just like him, and that I'm not as slow in learning a lesson as he thinks. I don't need the pain of an open scar to know how distant someone that I love like a brother has become to me. Or that this former Ring Companion is seriously thinking, that I would repay this life debt by trying to plunge his realm into misery. I'm not trying to start a war, why can't none of you understand that? All I want is justice to compensate for our losses, but those are obviously not important enough for you to actually contradict your husband for once. So please, go home now. For a moment I thought, your visit might get us somewhere. I sincerely apologize for that. There's nothing we have to say to each other as long as our opinions differ so much. I hope that you won't get dragged into this conflict any further."
"There's no way I won't be, seeing as the elf who, unfortunately, seems to be my husband's former best friend is planning an attack on him." Arwen firmly grabbed Legolas' arm before he could straighten up to avoid her sharp glance, taking advantage of him not being able to break away as quickly as usual thanks to the fresh bleeding.
"Can you stop taking me for a fool at least? We know what's going on here. None of us expects you to try and hurt Aragorn directly. But do you think we'll sit around idly in the Citadel if your people storm the prison? You think you'll face neither of us with a blade then? Or that the citizens won't be the next to call for vengeance if you kill even one of our soldiers in the heat of the moment? Just like you, I would not shed a single tear for these misguided villains, you know that damn well. But unlike you, I'm not willing to risk the peace of my realm for their death. And what do you think it will do to Aragorn if he has to lead a military attack against beings that he's calling his family? I'm begging you, as your friend and as an elf who knows exactly what it's like to live at war: Stop before it's too late!"
Arwen briefly wiped her eyes, because it was showing in Legolas' expression that had been so petrified for months already, that he did still not have the slightest bit of understanding. "Do you really want to raise your child in a world that sees the hate between Elves and Man rekindling?"
"This hate already exists. Sadly, I had to realize that more than once since the beginning of the war. Unlike my father, I will not just watch. You already know my answer, Arwen, so please bring it to your new home: The King of Gondor has nothing to fear from my people."
With some effort, Legolas broke away from her, got up on his horse, and slowly steered Arod away from his current flame in spite of the stallion's protests. "Don't try that again. People say about me that just like ada, I can't be found if I don't want to. My patience with visitors in these woods has run dry for one day."
"And what if I come back because your answer won't satisfy Aragorn? Because he won't rest until he can be sure that you won't harm any of his people either, out of revenge, or that in your blind fanaticism, you won't destroy everything that the Secondborn are only just rebuilding? Will you personally tell your people to shoot me down from my horse then? I hope you will never wear the circlet that haruni gave you, Legolas. It's been long since you deserved the name Breath of men."
Arwen let Thondrar help her get on her horse and looked back over her shoulder once more, with one eyebrow raised. "Is there something I should tell Ilya in my next letter from you? I might be wrong, but now that you're being so busy, I surely have more contact with her than you, don't I?"
For a moment, she thought she'd actually brought Legolas out of his shell, but then he left silently, in a quick trot, though this was the pace that thanks to the new wound had to hurt the most. That way of handling pain on the inside almost reminded Arwen of the many scars that she had seen on Erestor. It seemed that elves with such preferences felt drawn to Tarisilya in particular.
Together with Thondrar, Arwen started on her way to the edge of the woods. It would hopefully not take long until someone would get her there. She had rarely ever been so disgusted by a place.
This time, nothing went wrong. Arwen's worried question about Ranír and the other members of her soldier group was being answered with soothing words as well. The disguise had worked tolerably though it would probably not be successful for a second time. Except for a few men and horses lightly hurt by arrows, the trip had had no bad consequences.
Yet it wasn't easy for Arwen to speak before Aragorn's advisors in the White Tower then.
Since she still cared very much for Legolas – about the Legolas that she knew from the past – in spite of everything, she was relieved that none of the men saw a necessity for immediate action, though they were holding the elf's audacious impoliteness against him, especially with him being a representative of a big Kingdom.
Unfortunately, Legolas was having the upper hand right now: As long as he was not guilty of a direct act of war, Aragorn couldn't take any counteraction without people's mistrust of the Elves growing because the citizens would then think he knew something still hidden from them.
From the way, Aragorn was constantly grinding his jaw and his conspicuous silence in the meeting, Arwen could easily tell how much he hated this helplessness. Legolas was condemning him to wait for the next catastrophe almost as the Stewardaides did.
And Cair Andros wasn't the only center of the conflict. Arwen knew only too well what news about further dubious actions of Faramir could have caused in the city. So she kept silent about the incident with the soldier that she had just witnessed by chance anyway, until Aragorn and she met with Mithrandir over a glass of wine in Aragorn's chambers in the evening.
After the long day, Arwen was glad to be able to sit down. Aragorn of course did not rest until he had personally cleaned her wounds again so that it took a while until Arwen finally got around to talk about her further experiences.
"That boy is right." Mithrandir fidgeted with the pipe in his hand without reaching for some new weed from the bag on his belt. It wasn't hard to see that he was being worried about the Steward who was so dear to his heart, who owed him his life more than once.
"These conversations find their way from Emyn Arnen to the surrounding villages and to Minas Tirith as well. Since the last fight with Aragorn, the air in the halls of the Steward's palace is growing thinner. It's not only weighing down on the soul of the White Lady of Rohan. Instead of talking to his King, Faramir shares his critique with servants who would probably want to see him sit on the throne rather sooner than later. And these people know exactly that you can't officially ask Faramir about this without causing unrest among the folk again immediately, Aragorn. So far, the Stewardaides have fortunately kept the secret about Faramir's riot against his father. One spark is enough to ignite a fire of hate."
"But now I'll have to talk to him. If he's really being manipulated with some substances, he has one of the Stewardaides living in his own house, and he doesn't even realize it. Who knows what else will happen if I don't step in?" Aragorn started to slide the Ring of Barahir on his finger back and forth and questioningly turned his head to Mithrandir, uncertain about what to expect, what the wizard would have to say about this fear.
"I agree. Every minute of delay brings us closer to the darkness. Still. Let me give it a shot first, Aragorn. I have to know for sure first what's wrong with Faramir. And if we are right, how to stop it." The wizard put away his pipe and got up, impatient and full of thirst for action. "I'll travel to the big Firstborn realms. I hope I'll know more when I get back.
"Would letters not do for that, Mithrandir? We need you here." Aragorn was not exactly about someone else wanting to leave Minas Tirith who would have been of a much bigger use here.
"I will not be here forever to alter the fate of this world, Elessar. I can only assist you with advice and knowledge, as I always did, but you have to learn to solve your conflicts yourself. And at the moment, I just don't know enough to intervene. Until I do ... "
He came to stand in front of Aragorn and looked him in the eye, ever until his friend got up too, with his eyes lowered though. "Hide your mistrust deep in your heart. Your father is very worried about you and Arwen, and about Gondor too. About all of the free folks, once more. You owe it to him to put a peaceful end to this matter. Stray but a little and stars will burn out. There are few things that cut as deeply as an elf's hate. You and I, we know best that in the war, in Helm's Deep, Legolas has been confronted with the worst abysses your folk has to offer. That is something, the heart can't just forget even if in your head, you know better. A soul that has seen war for the first time needs support, not rejection."
"And what if that soul can't accept any support?" Tired of these thoughts that he was having himself nonstop recently and that were robbing him of his sleep, Aragorn backed away.
"Don't you think I'm trying, Mithrandir? There's nothing I wouldn't do to prevent a war! But today, it clearly showed what's going on in Legolas' heart. How am I supposed to get through to him when he wouldn't hesitate to hold a dagger to my throat? I have to think about the good of my people. If we don't make any progress soon, I will have to send messages to the elven realms that I can't tolerate their former residents in North Ithilien any longer, because otherwise, poisoned words would endanger the relationships to other friends as well."
"Just have a little patience. I'll be back as fast as I can." Mithrandir sighed heavily. "Time has become the most crucial factor."
"Your Majesty, is something wrong? You look so pale, even paler than usual!" Ranír startled and bent down to pick up the bridle that had slipped from Arwen's hands.
Arwen had been feeling annoyingly exhausted for a few days now. And Ranír was right: In spite of the undimmed sun shining down on the city's white walls, unusually warm for this time of the year, her skin just wouldn't start to tan.
But she shook her head. "I just can't recall a single year in this century that the heat scorched the earth so much in. It's crushing, even here." She tiredly braced herself on the door of Alagas' stall, wiped her eyes, and paced the aisle between the stalls a little.
Until a few minutes ago, she hadn't had the drive for anything but sitting around. The sun was giving her a headache, too, a condition of her body that had turned so mortal after the war that she could gladly have done without. In fact, she was tempted to lay back down. Given how often she was having nightmares recently, in spite of the beloved closeness to her husband in his bed, it felt like she hadn't been sleeping at all. And there was little comfort.
Her husband was in Osgiliath, checking on how reconstruction was proceeding there, something he'd been doing again and again in these last few weeks, to distract himself a little from his major worry regarding the elves. The city by the Anduin had almost started to shine in all its splendor again. The work could be finished any day now. Aragorn very much wanted to be present at that important moment.
Arwen wanted to be back on her feet by then as well, but taking it easy hadn't really seemed to help so far.
"It's nothing, really." She refused Ranír's offer to get her some water. "Maybe I caught a cold again. You don't have to worry. The King would surely know if something was wrong with me. Remember how often he's been working in the Houses of Healing in the past."
"Of course, Your Majesty." The handmaiden curtsied in approval but kept on watching Arwen skeptically as she looked for the right tools to groom her horse.
"Stop staring at me. If one never leaves their chambers, it's no wonder you get tired. I've been missing my horse. Alagas doesn't even recognize me anymore." Arwen had far too few chances to spend time in the stables since everyone was still worrying that the Stewardaides were only waiting for such an opportunity.
"Forgive me, Your Majesty. It's just that your husband was so worried about you when this thing at Cair Andros happened." Ranír shyly lowered her head, visibly scared because she had dared to make an objection.
Arwen gently grabbed her shoulder to make her look up. She hadn't been Queen long enough yet to deal with people treating her with a kind of awe almost bordering on fear, especially when they actually only wanted the best for her. Besides, Ranír had more and more become like a friend for her after risking her life for her at Cair Andros.
"My husband knows me long enough to be aware that I have already wasted far too much time of my life sitting idle. Besides, feeling a little dizzy during such weather is not unusual for women. Even I know that, though I've been mortal only for a little while." She gave the handmaiden an encouraging smile and then entered the box to make amends with her stallion. Maybe a bit of fresh air would indeed help her head clear up and finally get rid of that queasy sensation that had been in her gut ever since getting up.
As expected, Alagas was highly offended. He pawed at the ground and threw his head back again and again when Arwen wanted to caress him.
Shaking her head in amusement, she swung his headgear back and forth a bit.
The answer was a loud neigh. Except for Aragorn and Arwen, Alagas usually didn't let anyone ride him. Strangers could only bring him to the little meadow outside of the stables, and even that often proved difficult since he allowed only a few people to approach him. He really needed some exercise.
"Suddenly you love me again, huh? Come on. We haven't been on the fields for far too long."
Arwen ignored her handmaiden's question if she really wanted to walk that far in this heat, too. She couldn't and didn't want to be limited in everything she did, especially not because of the weather. And as long as she did always have soldiers nearby, there wouldn't be an unpleasant meeting with enemies in front of the gate in store for her again. Besides, she always had her dagger on her as a precaution.
Moreover, Arwen willingly stayed by her companions' side the whole way down to the gate.
The men were not clad in their usual heavy armor today; right now, that would have been unbearable. They weren't any less attentive though. Upon arrival, they sat down in the shadow of the city wall and started searching the plains.
After slapping his flank encouragingly, Arwen led Alagas a few feet away.
The stallion that was still lame on his foreleg after the incident at Cair Andros, trotted on the dried-up ground calmly, happy about every step he could take in spite of the pain.
Relieved about the quick progress of the animal's recovery, Arwen only turned around when it was looking for the way back to the city by itself, exhausted from the sun now standing at the zenith. Alagas wanted to get back inside the shadowy stable and to his water trough.
But they didn't make it there. Arwen had to stop abruptly because a slight stagger almost had her fall. Her stomach was suddenly rebelling so much that she had to retch, without a warning. Trembling, she held on to Alagas' mane. All of a sudden, she was even dizzier than earlier; it felt like she was about to blackout. She had been out here for too long, of course, she was probably having a sunstroke ... These damn mortal weaknesses would drive her crazy one day. She had to get back to the gate … But she didn't have enough strength to carry on.
Alagas noticed her struggle and neighed in panic, alerting the guards about what was going.
The men who had been taught to mind signals of horses in particular after Arwen's kidnapping came running immediately. They could catch her just in time when the blackness in front of her eyes grew worse.
"Your Majesty!" One of the men grabbed Alagas' reins. "You don't look good. We'll take you to the Houses of Healing."
Arwen tried to voice a protest, to back away, but she only fell right into the other man's arms. At the second attempt, she made it at least to pull away from him.
"Nothing's wrong, really. I'll be better in a minute. Just help me get on my horse. People can't see that you have to help me walk; that would only disturb them."
She didn't like it that she had to burden Alagas when he was already being lame, but her body which on the outside was fortunately still very elvish, did hardly have any weight; so she would hopefully not cause him any pain.
The man who held her carefully by her waist was listening at least to that last request but remained stubborn.
"That's something that a healer should rather judge. If something happens to you, the King will be very angry."
Arwen got Alagas going with a sigh, though the very last thing she wanted right now was seeing a healer. They wouldn't do anything but telling her to drink something and then lay down anyway.
On top of that, upon arrival at the gate, the other soldiers called one of his mates over to them and instructed him to send a messenger to Osgiliath to report everything to the King.
"Get him back immediately!" Arwen put one hand on her hips. It was entirely needless, making such a fuss. "The King will be angry if he's being bothered with something like this. Learning about it upon his return will be early enough."
"Forgive me, Your Majesty, but this is an order coming straight from His Majesty himself. I am to inform him about any complications, especially regarding you. I only do as I was told." The guard briefly bowed to her, ignoring Arwen's growl. "Let's carry on."
Rolling her eyes, Arwen spurred her horse on again. "Don't say I didn't warn you."