A fire had been hastily built, in an attempt to chase away the lingering sensation of wrongness that had descended along with the cloud. Men huddled around it, hunched into their cloaks to keep themselves warm, and the conversations were muted. Legolas and Nimoë walked over to the fireside and took a seat next to Gimli and Eomer who were trying to appear unruffled, but their swiftly darting eyes, watching the sky and the area outside the firelight, belied their apparent nonchalance.

Gimli looked over at them and asked, "With your Elven sight, could you tell what it was that dwelt within that thing? Truly I was chilled through to my very bones."

Both Elves shook their heads. Legolas replied, "It was too well shrouded to tell anything. You would do better to ask Gandalf." Then he paused, looking over the assembled company. "Where is Gandalf?"

Eomer pointed off into the darkness. "He is with Theoden and Aragorn. I think they are discussing what will happen when we reach Isengard." He brought his eyes to rest upon Nimoë, and he smiled. "I see that you have recovered. I am glad." He face grew serious as he continued. "I cannot tell you how much the knowledge of your suffering has weighed upon me. I should have done more to keep you from the eyes of Wormtongue. I should have guessed his reaction to your association with Galadriel. Can you ever forgive me for my stupidity?"

Nimoë smiled at him reassuringly. "I have long since forgiven you Eomer. It is true that I suffered much, but it seems that I will recover completely. You did what you thought was right, bringing me before your king, and in happier days nothing untoward would have happened. There is indeed no part of your actions which requires my forgiveness. You need only to forgive yourself."

The crackling of the fire was the only sound then for many long moments. "I do not know that I will ever be able to do that, Lady. I will strive, however, to work off my debt to you. If ever there is anything that you need, do not hesitate to ask for it."

Nimoë reached across Legolas to grasp Eomer's hand in her own. "Eomer, I do not know what I can say to you that will relieve you of this burden of guilt. It avails you naught! You have been a friend to me. You brought me away from the gate of Helm's Deep when I would have stayed. I see now that it was the right choice, although I did not understand it then. You shared your grief with me when Hama was found brutally slain. Does not this counter any debt you may feel you owe? I tell you truly, Eomer, I wish nothing for you but happiness, and I hold you no grudge. What more can I say?"

Eomer's heart had caught in his throat when he felt her slim hand take his own, which suddenly seemed large and unwieldy when he compared it to the graceful, strong fingers of the Elf Prince seated beside him. Why had he ever thought that he might stand a chance with this lady? This Elf! He was a mortal, destined to die in a matter of decades. Such a time was to her like the lifespan of a flower, from sprout to bud to glorious blossom, then just as quickly to withering rot.

Still, she was so unfailingly kind! Always she made it her purpose to bring happiness to him, never standing aloof, cold and cynical, like the few other Elf women he had ever met. How could he fail to respond to her forthright manner and luminous face?

He raised his eyes to meet hers and managed, through a brutal struggle of will, to smile back, showing none of the turmoil which roiled inside him. "If it will ease your heart to hear me say that I will put the whole thing behind me, then I will do so. I will not speak of it again." A flutter of white caught the corner of his eye, and he sat straight, releasing Nimoë's hand. "Gandalf is coming."

#

Gandalf, Theoden and Aragorn came up to the rim of the light which radiated from the fire. Gandalf spoke, his voice low, but clearly audible. "Dawn will come in less than an hour. We will mount up and ride. The shadow which passed over us I do not believe to have come from Saruman. I think perhaps it was directed towards him. Keep your wits about you, for I know not what we will find when we arrive at Isengard. And beware the voice of Saruman. Great is his power, and the greatest when he can work his wiles upon you with his words. Hold fast to what you know, and do not bend to his will. That is all that I can tell you. Go to your horses."

All of the men at the fire arose, and two began casting dirt over the flames, smothering them until they were dead. Legolas turned to Nimoë and told her, "Finduél was brought with us on this journey. Do you feel strong enough to ride?"

"I do. Thank you for having brought my horse. I understand the need to have ridden upon Arod with you, when I was unable to sit on my own, but I was afraid that I would continue to be a burden upon you when I was well."

"You will never be a burden, but I thought that you might feel as you do. You will stay close to me, though, won't you?"

Nimoë almost laughed at the pleading note it his voice. "Of course I will." They had reached the horses by that time, and Nimoë greeted Finduél with a caress upon his noble nose. Mounting was a bit of a challenge since, like all Elves, she rode without saddle, but, unlike all Elves, she was not unusually tall. Legolas finally offered his hand as a boost, and she found herself high over the ground, with a frisky horse between her legs. She buried her hands into his mane and held on with dogged determination.

"Are you sure you are alright?" asked Legolas.

Eomer's laugh rang out behind them and they turned to face him. "Have you not seen her ride before, Legolas? Not the most comfortable one to watch, but she will not fall." He then addressed Nimoë. "Would you accept some instruction from one who may say, with some little modesty, that he knows something of the ways of horses?"

Relief washed over her face and she smiled back at him. "Any little thing you could teach me would not be taken amiss."

#

Seeing that Nimoë was taken well in hand, Legolas went to find Arod. Hearing his familiar nicker, the Elf followed the sound to the horse's side. Aragorn was sitting astride his own horse nearby and once Legolas had mounted he walked Arod over to him. "Aragorn, I wish a word with you."

"What is it, Legolas?"

Keeping his voice low, so that he would not be overheard, he spoke, "When we come to Isengard, if it is at all possible, I do not want Nimoë to come before Saruman. He does not know of her presence among us and I dearly wish to keep it that way. Will you stand beside me in this if it comes to such a time?"

Aragorn nodded his understanding. "I will. The less that Saruman knows about us, the better. Nimoë's presence is something which could work in our favor as long as she is kept secret, although somehow I think that was not why the thought crossed your mind."

Legolas spoke simply. "I love her."

Aragorn reached out and clasped his friend about the arm. "Legolas, I am happy for you both. I wish you only the best. But do not think ill of me, for I must caution you in this. If the time comes that you must chose between Nimoë and the quest, you must chose the quest. The fate of Middle-Earth could depend upon you. You must not allow your heart to rule your mind."

Angrily, Legolas shook free of Aragorn's grip. "Do not speak to me of this. It is not something I wish to think about."

Aragorn remained unshaken by the Elf's outburst. "I know of what I speak, Legolas. I had to leave Arwen behind, and do not make the mistake of thinking that choice was easily made. Every fiber in me screamed out against it. But it is my duty to fight the shadow, to take my rightful place as King of Gondor." He took a breath to calm himself. "Go now back to your love. Take comfort in the time that you have with her. But if the time comes, do not turn your back on your duty."

Aragorn spurred his horse away, leaving Legolas staring after him, turmoil raging within him. Could he do it? In the heat of a desperate moment, could he sacrifice Nimoë for the sake of the quest? His hands were clenched into fists at his sides, and the knuckles were white with the power of his distress. Could he make that choice?

The rest of the company had already moved out by the time he was able to calm himself to the point of rational thought. Soon he would know the fate that would befall them at Isengard and then decisions would have to be made. Decisions that he feared would break his heart. He kicked into Arod's side with more power than was necessary and the great beast leapt forward, chasing down the rest of the company, on the final leg of the trek to Isengard.