My dear readers;
It seems like many have taken the last part of the former chapter to be Irulan's fall to Fever. It was not meant to be so. She merely decided to Shift till the end and face whatever came with that. Let's not forget that she is outside the fortress, alone, facing thousands of Uruks. It is only normal that she would think she will not make it.
As to the process of healing and Shifting. No doubt that the healing had an incredible effect on Irulan, for both the quality of her Shifting and her stamina in that field has changed. Yet, healed or not, how much can a human body take of such a tiring process before the mind begins to sag behind? And perhaps we would have to think of healing not as a prevention of Fever, but as a possibility of its reversal. Well...so much love and dedication is bound to make a difference - as you will see in this chapter. It is not the last one, so I will save explanations for the next one.
Alas, once more thank you for reading, reviewing and sharing. Don't think that I am exaggerating when I say that the world seems to be a brighter place for it!
Act 24 - the curtain opens and war continues. This chapter was partly written to Requiem for a Dream from the TTT soundtrack.
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The first thing Aragorn did when he reached the top of the wall, was to fall on Legolas and try to hold him with all his strength, because he knew exactly what his old friend was going to do. To his surprise, Gimli seemed to understand it as well, for he, too, threw himself on the blonde elf's legs and hung on as if his life depended on it. Needless to say, that they had no effect on Legolas, whose elven strength surpassed them both easily. He shook them off, like swatting away flies and made for the wall, ready to jump down. Aragorn dashed ahead and once more, embraced him from behind. Legolas did not even turn to look at him. His entire focus was fixed on Irulan. Aragorn did not follow his gaze in fear of seeing something horrible happening to her. He wished to jump down himself, but not like this! Not this way!
"Legolas! We will join her! But you can not jump alone!" he yelled into his ear, but Legolas was deaf to him, even though he must have heard the ranger perfectly well from this distance and with his sensitive hearing. He gave Aragorn a soft but effective nudge in the stomach with his elbow and Aragorn felt his hands slipping off the elf as the breath left him momentarily. Legolas had reached the wall and he would jump any minute. Once more, Gimli got hold on to one of the elf's legs and hung on. Suddenly Eomer was on Legolas' left, holding him and trying to drag him back. It would have been futile, of course, but to Aragorn's surprise, Legolas' right side was now full with other men, holding the prince from leg, arm, waist, tunic and neck, trying to drag him back.
Legolas blinked and woke up from his trance, realizing that he was being hindered in his aim far more strongly than to his liking. He began to thrash and struggle, trying to break free, but as soon as he knocked a man down, another was there to hold him. The Rohirrim simply followed the lead and command of their captain and Eomer looked like he had absolutely no intention of sending Legolas to his death. "Irulan!" screamed Legolas, his arms held in iron grasp on both sides, now. "Irulan!" he tried over and over again, but Irulan would not hear him.
It took seven men and a dwarf to drag Legolas away from the wall. Aragorn had never seen him like this. His eyes were heavy with something that the ranger could only describe as madness. Suddenly a thought occurred to him. 'Good thing we are fighting Uruk-hai, not elves,' he thought. They would never succeed against the elven kind. Knowing that the others were capable of holding him now, he swiftly walked around and stood before the elf. But instead looking at him, he turned to look down, towards Irulan. And so did the rest of the company, all struggle forgotten. He heard someone murmuring a prayer and even though it should have been extremely odd, it was not. It was only normal to seek refuge in divine powers when one faced something like this.
The stone path that led to the gate was no longer made of stone. It was made of heaps of dark flesh and even darker blood. Steel weapons and pieces of armory were scattered on it, glittering like jewels in the mud. It was not battle. It was massacre. Irulan was standing a good distance away from where they had last seen her, and she was continuing to advance, though it was an advance that was undetectable by the eye. As far as they could see, she was a blur, disappearing and reappearing, but never in the act of slaying itself. Mostly she looked as calm as she had decided to take a stroll in the park, frozen in the act of walking, her staff dangling from her hand, her hair softly stroked by the breeze and flowing in behind her. And as she walked, the Uruks seemed to fall apart around her.
Aragorn had been all over Middle Earth and his eyes had witnessed some very strange and disturbing things. Yet he knew that what he was witnessing now would stay with him till the end of his life. In fact, unknown to him, he would wake up many nights from nightmares in which he was reverted to his current post on the wall of Helm's Deep, watching the unthinkable happening right in front of his eyes. And with that instant, came the realization of what Darma Druids were. They were not human beings. How could they be? How could this be of human doing?
His eyes swept over the stone path, up to where she was standing. He had turned his back to her for only moments and yet, how many did she slay? Hundreds? Several hundreds, for sure. Even the slaying itself was brutal and cold, for the Uruks were very seldom stabbed or cut. Mostly they seemed to fall down in heaps and pieces, like a child's toy falling apart. A chill went down his spine once more, as his mind tried to grasp the battles the Darma Druids had led along with the elves against Sauron. Even the Dark Lord stood no chance against something like this...no wonder he was defeated over and over again and forced to escape to the Ash Mountains the last time. And here she was - a remnant of those times, killing once more the evil her people had faced many times before her.
Aragorn turned to look at the rest of the company and he was not surprised to find them frozen as well, staring out at the scene before them. Their eyes were widened with disbelief, their mouths hung slightly open. Only Gimli, who had approached to stand next to him, looked oddly sad.
"Irulan," said Legolas again, but this time it came out like a desperate whisper. 'She will not fall. She can NOT fall. She is healed,' he told himself over and over again, as if repeating those words often enough would indeed cast a spell and make it happen. This woman...this slayer....standing there in the field of lifeless meat....could it be Irulan? Memories flooded back to him. How gorgeous she had looked under the giant tree by Chemarit's hut, with her dark hair pinned up, the white linen dress flowing around her on the green grass, while the sun was throwing golden patches on her! How beautiful her voice had been when she had asked for his promise at the River Anduin that he would not leave Middle Earth before her time! How her eyes had glowed in the moonlight that night and how soft and yet strong her embrace -the very embrace that had changed him forever- had felt! How desperate she had looked at Parth Gallen when he had dared to embrace her broken spirit, leaning against a tree, her knees drawn up, her face a mask of sorrow - the child of terrible power. How tired she had seemed when she had joined him to sit at the cliff, dangling her feet down, to share his sleepless moments and how soft her lips had been when he had kissed her, confessing his feelings. How sad her torture had been when he had failed to understand her by the river in Rohan, and had only ended up trying to soothe her by stroking her back as she lay in his lap. Irulan...the majestic beauty who had called him the most precious gift in Fangorn and who had made him the happiest of all elves by leaning back on him on their ride to Rohan. Irulan, who had shared her bed in Rohan with him, holding his hand when he had been weak and ashamed of himself. Irulan, who had walked with him on the rocky hills of Rohan and who had felt and tasted like the very flame from which all other flames had sprung forth. Irulan, who had said that she loved him and thereby, given him a gift beyond any - beyond immortality itself. Was that her now? He blinked back tears. 'I will not lose her!' he screamed silently. 'Not now! I can NOT lose her!'
"What...what is she doing?" whispered Eomer and swallowed softly as he tore his eyes away from her to look at the ranger.
"She is saving our lives," said Aragorn softly, not wishing to look back over his shoulder again and instead, seeking refuge by locking eyes with Legolas.
"She is lost to us," whispered Gimli suddenly, his eyes washing over the figure of Irulan, as she advanced further and further, forcing the Uruks into a retreat. "The Fever has taken her from us."
"No!" said Aragorn suddenly and all looked up at the voice of a king unlike any Middle Earth had ever seen before. The rage and desperation in Legolas' eyes lifted for a moment and hope flowed into Gimli's fallen appearance. Aragorn looked from one to the other, ignoring the confusion that had set in on the rest of the company. They both nodded back. "She is ours. Nothing can take her from us." Everyone held their breath for a moment as Aragorn's eyes swept over the company, returning once more to his friends. He pushed his chin up and motioned for Eomer to let go of Legolas. The Rohirrim blinked and slowly obeyed. Legolas did not sprint away. He stepped closer to the ranger and looked down at Gimli. None looked back to Irulan. "If the Fever has her, we shall take her back!" said Aragorn with a low growl and strode away towards the Keep. Legolas and Gimli exchanged blank looks and immediately joined him, still refusing to check back on Irulan in fear that they would change their minds and jump off anyway. Their movement set everyone else into motion and the men hastily followed them, as the Uruks jumping from their ladders finally conquered the last wall of Helm's Deep.
***
Irulan did not know how long she had been fighting. It could have been only moments, it could have been centuries. Never had she Shifted so often, though. Even her rather scary experience in Parth Gallen had lasted much, much shorter than this - she was sure about that. And yet, she felt the exhaustion only now creeping slowly into her system. She should have been done, she should have fainted with the effort, but she felt as raw and unused as she had first Shifted. Her staff was like a black adder in her hands, striking and killing instantly, cutting through the dark wall before her with the ease of cutting through water. And just like water, soft liquid beads and droplets of orcish blood landed on her face, immediately cooling in the cold, crisp air of Rohan.
'Perhaps I am healed,' she thought suddenly. She could still think and feel in the void and although it had irritated her in the beginning, now she felt a little bit more secure for this ability. If she could keep conscious throughout this whole incidence, it meant that she would not end up doing something that was beyond her conscious and beyond her control. For Irulan feared nothing more than losing control. The idea that she would lose her sanity and never know about it woke unspeakable terror in her.
'Perhaps I can truly not fall any longer,' she thought and hope bloomed in her like a single flower in endless plains. Just then, she felt something heavy enclosing her, like a cloak. She continued hacking, but remained focused as to what this feeling was. Ever since her experience with Legolas, Shifting had become a strange and new experience for her. Not that she knew what the Fever exactly felt like, for obviously she had never fallen to it before. And yet, she could recall the empty dullness that had enveloped her in Parth Gallen and she knew that Fever itself had probably not been too far. Perhaps it had brushed by her, gently caressing her. She shook off the memories and tried to concentrate on the moment. Physically, she did not need to. All her training, all her education came to life before her eyes. Her body reacted with a preciseness she would not have expected herself to be capable of. But her mind....
Yes, the heavy cloak was there. It was like a second bubble of calmness, dampening and dulling the outer world even further. And yet, Irulan still did not feel tired or done. Yes, the effort was pulsing through her system, and she was absolutely sure that she would have to sleep for at least a week when this was over ('IF this will be over, Irulan,' corrected an amused inner voice instantly), but for the moment, she felt like she could continue doing this on and on. And that's when she saw a figure at the corner of her vision. She instinctively turned to look, but found only other Uruk-hai. Her heart did a flip. Her body kept turning, reeling, sprinting and bending, killing with every move, but her mind forced her eyes to look around again and again. She had seen someone there, she was absolutely sure of that....and yet....it could not have been.
So Irulan continued Shifting in and Shifting out. With every step she took away from the fortress, the distance between herself and her past was growing. She was not aware of it, but memories and feelings of that other Irulan were waving her goodbye even now, standing like a solitary figure back at the walls from which she had jumped minutes ago to save Aragorn and Gimli. Her past was fading from her mind, as Irulan was once more turning into the cutting blade itself. The reason why she was here right now this very moment was forgotten. She needed no reason. She was here and doing what she was supposed to do. The people she had been fighting for since many hours now were losing name and form as she continued to slay.
A hazy mist came over her mind, slowly cooling the fire of recognition. Unknown to her, Irulan was so far gone, she would not have recognized her own mother if she had come face to face with her this moment. And again unknown to her, she had Shifted far more often and with far more depth than any Sister in the entire history of Darma Druids. Irulan, who was quickly ceasing to be Irulan, had finally arrived at the base of the wall that was bordering the known lands. No other had made it this far. If she had stopped right then, if she had dealt another stroke and then ran back to the Gates in the void, she would have returned home having accomplished something that no Druid would have imagined possible. She would have ended with the rest of the fellowship once more, having killed hundreds, but having found sanity and refuge in the end. Because her healing had given her the unique chance to go beyond the endurance of any Sister before her.
But Irulan did not stop. Instead, she sprinted on the wall itself and then landed softly onto the earth that belonged to a strange and new territory. What she found there, though, was more familiar to her than anything she would have expected to see. There would be no return, for the idea and thought of return faded from her mind as well, and Irulan stood facing what she had come here to face.
She turned around to see the same figure, walking the perimeter of her vision. This time she managed to catch a glimpse before, once again, the figure darted away from her vision with incredible speed. 'No,' she thought as icy desperation shook her body. 'No....I will not fall.' Even as she was thinking, the figure of the woman danced back into her field of vision and disappeared behind the tall Uruk-hai that stood before Irulan, frozen in the attempt to defend themselves. Irulan hacked away the first row and Shifted out to see more clearly. There! She caught sight of the long brown hair as it seemed to float amongst the orcs. Irulan Shifted again and killed three more, all the time her head frantically turning to see more. There...the tip of a staff with silver blades! She swallowed and charged, cutting away all the orcs that stood in her path, as well as those that were desperately trying to run around her, towards the Gates.
Moments later she saw the woman's complete figure and turned to lock eyes with her. Yes, it was her. The woman smiled back at her as she continued her running and disappeared to her left. Irulan frantically Shifted and turned a full circle, trying to locate her like a dog trying to catch his own tail. Uruk-hai were falling around her like leaves catching fire before they even hit the flame itself, yet Irulan neither saw nor cared. Suddenly she saw the woman again, off in the crowd, this time standing calmly, her legs apart, both hands on her staff that was resting right in front of her. The tall and dark bodies of the orcs surrounded her, but she seemed oblivious to them. Irulan hacked her way towards her, but once she arrived there, the woman was gone.
"Show yourself!" she screamed, and her voice echoed painfully in the void, thrown back to her again and again, until she felt like she had been asked to do that by someone else. "I am here, show yourself!" she yelled again, all the time trying to see both ahead of her and over her shoulder, while Shifting in and out of the world. "I am here," echoed her own words back at her, "show yourself!"
"I am here! YOU show yourself! Coward!" she screamed back, slicing through dark meat as if slicing through inanimate, lifeless and soulless beings. Fury began to bubble up in her, finding ever more strength from her frustration. No matter how hard she tried, she failed to see more than little glimpses of hair or clothing or staff. "YOU show yourself!" rang back the echo of the flat voice, "Coward!" it screamed at her, followed by deep, amused laughter.
Then the woman was right in front of her, oddly holding an orcish blade, meaning to bring it down to her right shoulder. Irulan acted immediately and ducked, whirled and sliced through her. She regained her posture with deep satisfaction blooming in her, expecting to see the woman falling into half right before her eyes, but instead, only another Uruk-hai fell, still holding the blade that was meant to kill her. Stunned, she walked up to the fallen figure and ignoring the tumult before her, momentarily bent down to pick up the creature's head. Disgusted, she dropped the head of the orc back and another wave of fury hit her as she Shifted again, to charge. "I am here!" echoed a voice in the void, "Coward!"
Irulan felt both fear and fury dancing in her, one replacing the other instantly, and now that the Shifting itself had changed, neither left her even when she was in the void. "Who are you?!" she screamed in desperation, knowing the answer perfectly well, but fearing it more than she had feared anything else in her life.
"Who are you?" whispered the echo back and it sounded so close to her ear, she shrank back, instantly turning around to see if the woman was there. She was alone, surrounded by frozen statues of orcs, lost in a forest of foreign creatures. Her sense of direction set in and she quickly ran up in the void to cut the Uruks that seemed to have passed by her, heading towards the direction she had come from (it was the direction of Helm's Deep, of course, but Irulan had long ago forgotten about the fortress). "Who are you?" the whisper came back once more. Irulan's heart was pounding painfully now, her pulse speeding up to frightening limits. Although the feeling of pain and effort was still masked in the void, she felt them lurking behind the door. The moment she opened the door, they would clash into her.
"I am Irulan!" she screamed back, fury burning her nerve endings with such intense fire, it literally hurt. She could hear a chuckle then and did not know which direction it came from. She felt already dizzy from all the turning in circles, her futile attempts to glimpse the Other. "*I* am Irulan," the woman whispered back and appeared right in front of her, another orcish sword hanging limply from her right hand, a smile adorning her lips. Irulan grinded her teeth and approached her, her staff buzzing in her hands, ready to slay.
"No, *I* am Irulan," she hissed and attacked. Once more, an instant satisfaction and joy set in as she felt the blades of her staff slicing the head off the creature. And once more confusion gave way to fury when she turned around to find an orc in the place of that damn woman!
"Coward!" she heard her voice suddenly and looked up to see her standing once more amongst the first ranks of the orcs, once more oddly oblivious to their existence. "I am here!"
"Show yourself!" said another exact duplicate of the Other, appearing right next to the first one. Their staffs flickered, disappeared, then flickered and were instantly replaced by Isengard swords.
Irulan remained rooted for a moment. Suddenly her senses returned for a brief blink of an eye. She realized that she was only fighting mirror images of herself..that they did not exist..that she had begun to see things and react to the echo of her own words as if they were spoken by someone else. Without knowing how, she knew that she should never give in to the temptation and fight them, for they would keep luring her away from...from...from where? She frowned as she tried to remember, but failed. She looked up, confused, all the world halted in motion - that is, all the world except the two twins before her. They smiled at her, the corners of their lips turning upward in perfect unison. "Who are you?" they said, their voices so perfectly overlapping, that it sounded like a single voice and a single utterance.
A hate like no other overcame Irulan. She did not fight it, but even if she had, she was sure that she would not have succeeded in suppressing such a force. All shriveled and died at the sight of such fervor. She inhaled its sharp scent and felt hate raging in her, like an airborne disease that had found a new host. Her past and her future melted away. The moment remained. Nothing mattered any longer. Hate needed neither reason nor motivation. Its being alone provoked such energy, that it HAD to be put into motion. Irulan felt it boiling in her, burning her like hot water burns a vessel.
She Shifted out and impaled an Uruk, forcefully driving the staff into the ground. The creature and the staff stood erect, bound to remain like that like a grotesque monument. She reached and pulled the sword from behind her back, its slender form and comfortable weight odd in her hands. "Very well," she said and walked towards the Uruk-hai who were partly falling back from this frightening creature before them. Irulan was so lost in her own battle that she did not see that more and more Uruks were slipping past her now, and once more returning to their task of invading Helm's Deep. She had killed countless, and yet even with her healed state, this much Shifting was bound to unearth unwanted guests. The Uruk-hai before her began to fall, while others closed in on her. Darma Druid or not, a single person was no match for an army like this.
But Irulan was not engaged in this battle any longer. Her body killed orcs left and right, but her mind was fixed on her twin sisters before her, waiting calmly and with amused looks for her to come closer. The blade in her hand sang of long forgotten songs as she swung it. "Very well," she said again when she was close enough and looked up to see a third Irulan joining the duo before her. "Dance with me," she said and the other three joined her words in perfect unison, their voices exactly her own voice, "Sister."
***
Legolas held Arod's reins as the horse softly neighed and backed away from the gate that was opening before them now. "You better bring her back, elf!" said Gimli from below and he looked down to meet eyes with the dwarf.
"I will, Gimli!" he said and his voice was cold determination itself.
Aragorn appeared by them, then, on his own horse, his sword in his hand, his other hand holding the reins. Legolas could see Theoden and Eomer right beside the ranger, their eyes locked to the gate, their own swords drawn. Aragorn gave elf and dwarf one last look and then dug his heels in. Legolas mimicked him instantly and bolted out momentarily. Gimli glanced at their receding forms for another moment, then ran up to blow the horn. The dawn was breaking and he told his heart stubbornly that it would not be the last dawn he would witness.
Legolas was greeted by the soft bluish light that spoke of a very near dawn. The air was cool to the touch, but it felt comforting, for a fire was burning in him. The idea of Irulan occupied his mind like something he had never encountered before. His world swam, his feelings drowning, floating like dead bodies on the ocean that was her. Memories flooded back to him, mercilessly beating down on him again and again and again. "Irulan," he thought. "Irulan, be safe. Be well. Stay with me." His anxiety was the storm beating on the dark ocean in his mind. Thunder cracked the sky; the salty waters slapped him like sharp blades. He had never seen the ocean itself, but only drawings of it in books. Yet, it was as vivid as if his own eyes had observed it. He blinked away the water in his eyes to see Irulan. They rode on and on, and although they encountered a few Uruk-hai running up to the gates, it was nothing compared to the bodies lying on the floor, growing cold with the lack of life. So many! So many! 'She is healed,' he told himself once more, 'She can not fall.' And yet...so many!
Suddenly he saw her staff, driven through an Uruk-hai from shoulder to leg, forcing him to remain erect even in his death. He should have been terrified. He should have been disgusted. But he felt nothing but the salty clash of waves on him. With one swift moment he pulled the staff out of the creature and continued his riding, for he had glimpsed Irulan ahead, swinging her narrow blade. There was a clumsiness and oddness to her movements that had not been there before. Legolas felt eyes on him and turned to look at Aragorn. "We will protect you, Legolas," the ranger said and rode ahead to engage in a battle with the Uruks who grew ever more in number now, as the stone path had become wider and as Irulan seemed incapable of stopping all from flowing by her. Legolas jumped from Arod and ran up to her. He was perfectly aware that Irulan might not and most probably would not recognize him any longer. He should have jumped off that damn wall! He should have gone to her while he still had the chance. And yet...he felt no fear. If Irulan would slice through him now, he would feel only relief. He would not live to see her failing and falling. He would not live to see her pain. As sick as it was, happiness surged through him with the thought of death at her hands and he ran faster.
***
Irulan was surrounded by images of herself. The thought of orcs and Uruk- hai had faded from her mind as had everything else. The world did not exist. She was under blankets of silence and heat, pushing down on her like natural forces. Her blade met other blades, crossed them, parried them, attacked them, then cut through flesh and bone. And yet, her sisters kept re-appearing again and again. She looked up at the uncountable mass of Irulans, dancing around her and though she should have felt fear, she felt nothing but hate. Her muscles ached and even in the deepness of the void she had begun to feel the wounds that were bleeding mercilessly. And yet, she did not care. Even if her blood would flow out of her now, she knew that she would continue hacking, for hate would replace her life energy and would drag her on. She charged again and again, she Shifted again and again, not really paying attention any longer.
Then something very strange happened. Suddenly the world stopped completely. She was forced to a freezing halt herself and even though she could not move her head, her eyes took in the other Irulans, arrested in utter surprise and shock as well. A pain flew through her and it felt as if the source for this pain was somewhere behind her, and as if the fire erupting from there licked through her entire existence, hitting her back and leaving her face. Then another wave of pain hit her, and then another. At the same moment she heard a strange sound - it sounded like a mixture of breaking glass and the howling of a gust of wind as it surged through a hole in the wall. She felt something around her collapsing and tried to instinctively bring up her arms to cover her face, but failed doing so for she was still frozen. Instantly the howling wind turned into a storm and Irulan watched in amazement as it blew away all the other Irulans around her, throwing them off into the air. A moment later, all had disappeared, and with them vanished the pain as well as the wind itself and her own stiffness. She stumbled a few steps ahead, completing the motion she had meant to before the spell had taken a hold on her and immediately turned around to see the source of this tumult.
It would have been a mistake to say that Irulan felt surprised to see Legolas standing before her, for surprise was not the feeling. Neither was it astonishment or shock. It was not relief or understanding either. Her mind failed to grasp what her eyes were perceiving; much less did she realize his identity. All she saw was a man looking down at her with impossibly blue eyes, and embedded in a light that was painful to behold. Her eyes watered with the intensity of it, so she turned to look away, but found herself locked to the blue eyes of the man, who stepped closer. Time was frozen. Irulan took a step back. She neither saw the Uruks around her, nor the elves or men fighting with them. She was not aware of Rohan or Helm's Deep or the battle for survival. The blade was forgotten in her hand, and slid from her grasp, meeting the stone floor, along with her own name and every other memory she had once possessed. She was as empty as a blank piece of paper, waiting to be written upon. The man was right in front of her in the blink of an eye, and the light that seemed to pour from him seemed almost painful at the moment. She tried to step back again, but he grabbed the front of her tunic and jerked her to himself so hard, she almost lost her footing. She felt his lips meeting hers and it was only then that Irulan felt surprise.
Only bare moments had passed since Legolas had spoken the words embedded in Irulan's mind...the only words that would wake her up. His own voice seemed foreign to him when he had said them and when she stopped and turned to face him, he had no idea how to proceed. He had often tried to imagine the moment, had often thought of what to do. He knew he had only very few precious moments before the darkness would set in on her mind again and take Irulan from him forever. Images of himself grasping a shocked Irulan and binding her hands and feet, then hauling her onto his shoulder to run back had come to him. He had dreamt of images of himself knocking her unconscious and then once more carrying her back to safety. Yet, when he stood there at the break of dawn, facing the woman he loved in that state, he forgot them all. And he did something that he certainly would have believed to be foolish if he had thought of it before - he grabbed her and kissed her. She remained stunned for a moment, then he felt her trying to fight him off, but Legolas quickly discarded the staff in his hand and pulled her into a tighter embrace, deepening the kiss. His love, his anxiety, his fear and concern for her exploded in him and he could not help himself holding her stronger and claiming her lips, even though she resisted him as if he was a complete stranger.
She could just go on and kill him now. He did not care. The world meant nothing without her. For three thousand years he had been experiencing it, day in and day out, and he felt absolutely not the slightest regret at this moment as he let go of the wish to continue this habit. He thought of neither Mirkwood, nor his father, Aragorn or the Ring as he surrendered - though these thoughts and people had a much longer history in his mind. Irulan was the sole object in his mind, she was the only flame. If she meant to burn him as well as herself, he would join her gladly.
He broke the kiss, but held her shocked figure even stronger, afraid of losing her. "I love you, Irulan," he whispered and it was the only thing he could think of. It was the only thing worth saying. Those three words said it all. Let the world end here and now - for everything that needed to be said was said. Moments passed. Then more moments passed. And yet she did not strike. Moments passed again, and Irulan remained in his arms. Her breath was warm on his cool skin, gliding down his cheeks and his neck. She felt so small, so much like a child. And yet, this was no child. He desperately tried to think of something else to say, for love could certainly not be expected to draw a response from a Darma Druid. And yet..what worthy words could be said in a matter of seconds? "I love you," he said again and closed his eyes, waiting for her blow.
But the blow never came. Irulan stood in his arms, stiff and alert, not knowing what to do as memories flew and hacked through her mind. A storm of the past was here, hurling every single detail and every word of every conversation back at her in a matter of instants. And she only realized that she had forgotten them when she perceived them again, now. A lifetime had been taken from her and was granted back to her. A lifetime blessed with so much love, so much sacrifice! So many had shared it with her, so many had touched her heart and spirit. And in the middle of all was standing Legolas.
Legolas, who had loved her despite all her imperfections. Legolas, who had waited patiently through her immaturity, who had dealt lovingly with all her blows; who had accepted all her mistakes, even though she had stubbornly repeated them again and again. Legolas, who had always been ready to throw everything away, for a single embrace from her. Legolas, a creature worth everything she had to offer, and so much more. "Legolas," she whispered, as her eyes fluttered, her mind trying to slip away into the darkness.
Legolas tensed immediately. He knew that he had heard her whispering his name, and yet...it was so unexpected, it was so miraculous, he dared not believe it. He felt her giving in to his embrace, then and could not prevent the tiniest of hopes from glowing in his mind. There was no return from Fever. There was no undoing Fever. Yet....she had whispered his name. "Legolas," he heard her again, weaker this time and he hastily leaned back to look at her. Irulan felt limp in his arms and she sagged against his chest when he drew back. Panic seized him.
"Irulan," he said softly, trying not to scream with the anxiety. He did not know what else to do, so he quickly lifted her up and she leant her head on his shoulder, not looking up at him, but encircling his shoulder with her right arm. "Talk to me, Irulan," he said, but she remained silent. Irulan lifted her head to look around, the assault of consciousness and memories slowly taking mercy on her now. They were standing in the battlefield, with Uruks fighting Rohirrim on horses. The absurdity of their current situation would make her smile if she had had the strength for it.
Suddenly Legolas gasped. "Irulan," he said softly, not looking down at her, "Gandalf has come, Irulan." Her head snapped up at that and her eyes hastily looked for the beloved sight of the Wizard. And indeed, there he was - riding down from a hill towards the east, like a god. Rohirrim were following his lead, drawing ever nearer to the dark army of Uruks below. The sun came up then, and the golden light washed over the valley of Helm's Deep. Instantly it was Rohan again and the dark territory of the battle arena that would remain in their minds for many years to come, disappeared as the daylight brought back hope. Elf and woman remained frozen, watching the tiny shining figure of Gandalf reaching the Uruks and delving into them like a white lightning. "Gandalf is here, Irulan," Legolas whispered again and looked down at her face that was lost in the amazement of the moment. He watched her for a long time while she watched Gandalf, trying hard to keep her eyes open. "I love you, Irulan," he whispered again and she frowned and looked up at him.
"Legolas," she said then, and her voice was a soft brush in the clatter of battle, "take me from this place." Legolas looked at her for another moment, suddenly not knowing whether she meant the battlefield or Middle Earth altogether. Finally, still not sure but knowing that in either case he would have to take her back to the fortress first, he nodded and walked over to Arod, mounting the horse in one fluid movement, with Irulan still in his arms. He looked up in time to see the remaining Uruks turning around and running off, accepting defeat. So many were lost, and yet good had won over evil this night. He gently placed Irulan sideways on the saddle, holding her back with one arm while he reached out to the reins with the other. Suddenly he realized that both his hands were covered with thick blood. He brought his free hand up in confusion, looking at the warm red liquid gently dripping from his wrist down on the white mane of Arod.
"Irulan!" he said with haste now, and shook her gently. "Are you wounded?" Irulan did not answer him. She seemed to be sleeping. He quickly traced his hand up her torso and found a rather large wet spot on her side, right above her right kidney. Legolas slightly pushed himself back to take a better look at it and the sight took the color from his face. The bleeding was strong, for his entire tunic was covered with the blood that was slowly spreading and now even penetrating his inner shirt. His red hand shot up to tilt up Irulan's pale face, leaving markings on her chin. "Irulan!" he said, but her eyes remained closed and unmoving. Taking the reins once more, he dug his heels into Arod probably a little more painful than he needed to and the horse dashed towards the fortress in surprise.
It seems like many have taken the last part of the former chapter to be Irulan's fall to Fever. It was not meant to be so. She merely decided to Shift till the end and face whatever came with that. Let's not forget that she is outside the fortress, alone, facing thousands of Uruks. It is only normal that she would think she will not make it.
As to the process of healing and Shifting. No doubt that the healing had an incredible effect on Irulan, for both the quality of her Shifting and her stamina in that field has changed. Yet, healed or not, how much can a human body take of such a tiring process before the mind begins to sag behind? And perhaps we would have to think of healing not as a prevention of Fever, but as a possibility of its reversal. Well...so much love and dedication is bound to make a difference - as you will see in this chapter. It is not the last one, so I will save explanations for the next one.
Alas, once more thank you for reading, reviewing and sharing. Don't think that I am exaggerating when I say that the world seems to be a brighter place for it!
Act 24 - the curtain opens and war continues. This chapter was partly written to Requiem for a Dream from the TTT soundtrack.
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The first thing Aragorn did when he reached the top of the wall, was to fall on Legolas and try to hold him with all his strength, because he knew exactly what his old friend was going to do. To his surprise, Gimli seemed to understand it as well, for he, too, threw himself on the blonde elf's legs and hung on as if his life depended on it. Needless to say, that they had no effect on Legolas, whose elven strength surpassed them both easily. He shook them off, like swatting away flies and made for the wall, ready to jump down. Aragorn dashed ahead and once more, embraced him from behind. Legolas did not even turn to look at him. His entire focus was fixed on Irulan. Aragorn did not follow his gaze in fear of seeing something horrible happening to her. He wished to jump down himself, but not like this! Not this way!
"Legolas! We will join her! But you can not jump alone!" he yelled into his ear, but Legolas was deaf to him, even though he must have heard the ranger perfectly well from this distance and with his sensitive hearing. He gave Aragorn a soft but effective nudge in the stomach with his elbow and Aragorn felt his hands slipping off the elf as the breath left him momentarily. Legolas had reached the wall and he would jump any minute. Once more, Gimli got hold on to one of the elf's legs and hung on. Suddenly Eomer was on Legolas' left, holding him and trying to drag him back. It would have been futile, of course, but to Aragorn's surprise, Legolas' right side was now full with other men, holding the prince from leg, arm, waist, tunic and neck, trying to drag him back.
Legolas blinked and woke up from his trance, realizing that he was being hindered in his aim far more strongly than to his liking. He began to thrash and struggle, trying to break free, but as soon as he knocked a man down, another was there to hold him. The Rohirrim simply followed the lead and command of their captain and Eomer looked like he had absolutely no intention of sending Legolas to his death. "Irulan!" screamed Legolas, his arms held in iron grasp on both sides, now. "Irulan!" he tried over and over again, but Irulan would not hear him.
It took seven men and a dwarf to drag Legolas away from the wall. Aragorn had never seen him like this. His eyes were heavy with something that the ranger could only describe as madness. Suddenly a thought occurred to him. 'Good thing we are fighting Uruk-hai, not elves,' he thought. They would never succeed against the elven kind. Knowing that the others were capable of holding him now, he swiftly walked around and stood before the elf. But instead looking at him, he turned to look down, towards Irulan. And so did the rest of the company, all struggle forgotten. He heard someone murmuring a prayer and even though it should have been extremely odd, it was not. It was only normal to seek refuge in divine powers when one faced something like this.
The stone path that led to the gate was no longer made of stone. It was made of heaps of dark flesh and even darker blood. Steel weapons and pieces of armory were scattered on it, glittering like jewels in the mud. It was not battle. It was massacre. Irulan was standing a good distance away from where they had last seen her, and she was continuing to advance, though it was an advance that was undetectable by the eye. As far as they could see, she was a blur, disappearing and reappearing, but never in the act of slaying itself. Mostly she looked as calm as she had decided to take a stroll in the park, frozen in the act of walking, her staff dangling from her hand, her hair softly stroked by the breeze and flowing in behind her. And as she walked, the Uruks seemed to fall apart around her.
Aragorn had been all over Middle Earth and his eyes had witnessed some very strange and disturbing things. Yet he knew that what he was witnessing now would stay with him till the end of his life. In fact, unknown to him, he would wake up many nights from nightmares in which he was reverted to his current post on the wall of Helm's Deep, watching the unthinkable happening right in front of his eyes. And with that instant, came the realization of what Darma Druids were. They were not human beings. How could they be? How could this be of human doing?
His eyes swept over the stone path, up to where she was standing. He had turned his back to her for only moments and yet, how many did she slay? Hundreds? Several hundreds, for sure. Even the slaying itself was brutal and cold, for the Uruks were very seldom stabbed or cut. Mostly they seemed to fall down in heaps and pieces, like a child's toy falling apart. A chill went down his spine once more, as his mind tried to grasp the battles the Darma Druids had led along with the elves against Sauron. Even the Dark Lord stood no chance against something like this...no wonder he was defeated over and over again and forced to escape to the Ash Mountains the last time. And here she was - a remnant of those times, killing once more the evil her people had faced many times before her.
Aragorn turned to look at the rest of the company and he was not surprised to find them frozen as well, staring out at the scene before them. Their eyes were widened with disbelief, their mouths hung slightly open. Only Gimli, who had approached to stand next to him, looked oddly sad.
"Irulan," said Legolas again, but this time it came out like a desperate whisper. 'She will not fall. She can NOT fall. She is healed,' he told himself over and over again, as if repeating those words often enough would indeed cast a spell and make it happen. This woman...this slayer....standing there in the field of lifeless meat....could it be Irulan? Memories flooded back to him. How gorgeous she had looked under the giant tree by Chemarit's hut, with her dark hair pinned up, the white linen dress flowing around her on the green grass, while the sun was throwing golden patches on her! How beautiful her voice had been when she had asked for his promise at the River Anduin that he would not leave Middle Earth before her time! How her eyes had glowed in the moonlight that night and how soft and yet strong her embrace -the very embrace that had changed him forever- had felt! How desperate she had looked at Parth Gallen when he had dared to embrace her broken spirit, leaning against a tree, her knees drawn up, her face a mask of sorrow - the child of terrible power. How tired she had seemed when she had joined him to sit at the cliff, dangling her feet down, to share his sleepless moments and how soft her lips had been when he had kissed her, confessing his feelings. How sad her torture had been when he had failed to understand her by the river in Rohan, and had only ended up trying to soothe her by stroking her back as she lay in his lap. Irulan...the majestic beauty who had called him the most precious gift in Fangorn and who had made him the happiest of all elves by leaning back on him on their ride to Rohan. Irulan, who had shared her bed in Rohan with him, holding his hand when he had been weak and ashamed of himself. Irulan, who had walked with him on the rocky hills of Rohan and who had felt and tasted like the very flame from which all other flames had sprung forth. Irulan, who had said that she loved him and thereby, given him a gift beyond any - beyond immortality itself. Was that her now? He blinked back tears. 'I will not lose her!' he screamed silently. 'Not now! I can NOT lose her!'
"What...what is she doing?" whispered Eomer and swallowed softly as he tore his eyes away from her to look at the ranger.
"She is saving our lives," said Aragorn softly, not wishing to look back over his shoulder again and instead, seeking refuge by locking eyes with Legolas.
"She is lost to us," whispered Gimli suddenly, his eyes washing over the figure of Irulan, as she advanced further and further, forcing the Uruks into a retreat. "The Fever has taken her from us."
"No!" said Aragorn suddenly and all looked up at the voice of a king unlike any Middle Earth had ever seen before. The rage and desperation in Legolas' eyes lifted for a moment and hope flowed into Gimli's fallen appearance. Aragorn looked from one to the other, ignoring the confusion that had set in on the rest of the company. They both nodded back. "She is ours. Nothing can take her from us." Everyone held their breath for a moment as Aragorn's eyes swept over the company, returning once more to his friends. He pushed his chin up and motioned for Eomer to let go of Legolas. The Rohirrim blinked and slowly obeyed. Legolas did not sprint away. He stepped closer to the ranger and looked down at Gimli. None looked back to Irulan. "If the Fever has her, we shall take her back!" said Aragorn with a low growl and strode away towards the Keep. Legolas and Gimli exchanged blank looks and immediately joined him, still refusing to check back on Irulan in fear that they would change their minds and jump off anyway. Their movement set everyone else into motion and the men hastily followed them, as the Uruks jumping from their ladders finally conquered the last wall of Helm's Deep.
***
Irulan did not know how long she had been fighting. It could have been only moments, it could have been centuries. Never had she Shifted so often, though. Even her rather scary experience in Parth Gallen had lasted much, much shorter than this - she was sure about that. And yet, she felt the exhaustion only now creeping slowly into her system. She should have been done, she should have fainted with the effort, but she felt as raw and unused as she had first Shifted. Her staff was like a black adder in her hands, striking and killing instantly, cutting through the dark wall before her with the ease of cutting through water. And just like water, soft liquid beads and droplets of orcish blood landed on her face, immediately cooling in the cold, crisp air of Rohan.
'Perhaps I am healed,' she thought suddenly. She could still think and feel in the void and although it had irritated her in the beginning, now she felt a little bit more secure for this ability. If she could keep conscious throughout this whole incidence, it meant that she would not end up doing something that was beyond her conscious and beyond her control. For Irulan feared nothing more than losing control. The idea that she would lose her sanity and never know about it woke unspeakable terror in her.
'Perhaps I can truly not fall any longer,' she thought and hope bloomed in her like a single flower in endless plains. Just then, she felt something heavy enclosing her, like a cloak. She continued hacking, but remained focused as to what this feeling was. Ever since her experience with Legolas, Shifting had become a strange and new experience for her. Not that she knew what the Fever exactly felt like, for obviously she had never fallen to it before. And yet, she could recall the empty dullness that had enveloped her in Parth Gallen and she knew that Fever itself had probably not been too far. Perhaps it had brushed by her, gently caressing her. She shook off the memories and tried to concentrate on the moment. Physically, she did not need to. All her training, all her education came to life before her eyes. Her body reacted with a preciseness she would not have expected herself to be capable of. But her mind....
Yes, the heavy cloak was there. It was like a second bubble of calmness, dampening and dulling the outer world even further. And yet, Irulan still did not feel tired or done. Yes, the effort was pulsing through her system, and she was absolutely sure that she would have to sleep for at least a week when this was over ('IF this will be over, Irulan,' corrected an amused inner voice instantly), but for the moment, she felt like she could continue doing this on and on. And that's when she saw a figure at the corner of her vision. She instinctively turned to look, but found only other Uruk-hai. Her heart did a flip. Her body kept turning, reeling, sprinting and bending, killing with every move, but her mind forced her eyes to look around again and again. She had seen someone there, she was absolutely sure of that....and yet....it could not have been.
So Irulan continued Shifting in and Shifting out. With every step she took away from the fortress, the distance between herself and her past was growing. She was not aware of it, but memories and feelings of that other Irulan were waving her goodbye even now, standing like a solitary figure back at the walls from which she had jumped minutes ago to save Aragorn and Gimli. Her past was fading from her mind, as Irulan was once more turning into the cutting blade itself. The reason why she was here right now this very moment was forgotten. She needed no reason. She was here and doing what she was supposed to do. The people she had been fighting for since many hours now were losing name and form as she continued to slay.
A hazy mist came over her mind, slowly cooling the fire of recognition. Unknown to her, Irulan was so far gone, she would not have recognized her own mother if she had come face to face with her this moment. And again unknown to her, she had Shifted far more often and with far more depth than any Sister in the entire history of Darma Druids. Irulan, who was quickly ceasing to be Irulan, had finally arrived at the base of the wall that was bordering the known lands. No other had made it this far. If she had stopped right then, if she had dealt another stroke and then ran back to the Gates in the void, she would have returned home having accomplished something that no Druid would have imagined possible. She would have ended with the rest of the fellowship once more, having killed hundreds, but having found sanity and refuge in the end. Because her healing had given her the unique chance to go beyond the endurance of any Sister before her.
But Irulan did not stop. Instead, she sprinted on the wall itself and then landed softly onto the earth that belonged to a strange and new territory. What she found there, though, was more familiar to her than anything she would have expected to see. There would be no return, for the idea and thought of return faded from her mind as well, and Irulan stood facing what she had come here to face.
She turned around to see the same figure, walking the perimeter of her vision. This time she managed to catch a glimpse before, once again, the figure darted away from her vision with incredible speed. 'No,' she thought as icy desperation shook her body. 'No....I will not fall.' Even as she was thinking, the figure of the woman danced back into her field of vision and disappeared behind the tall Uruk-hai that stood before Irulan, frozen in the attempt to defend themselves. Irulan hacked away the first row and Shifted out to see more clearly. There! She caught sight of the long brown hair as it seemed to float amongst the orcs. Irulan Shifted again and killed three more, all the time her head frantically turning to see more. There...the tip of a staff with silver blades! She swallowed and charged, cutting away all the orcs that stood in her path, as well as those that were desperately trying to run around her, towards the Gates.
Moments later she saw the woman's complete figure and turned to lock eyes with her. Yes, it was her. The woman smiled back at her as she continued her running and disappeared to her left. Irulan frantically Shifted and turned a full circle, trying to locate her like a dog trying to catch his own tail. Uruk-hai were falling around her like leaves catching fire before they even hit the flame itself, yet Irulan neither saw nor cared. Suddenly she saw the woman again, off in the crowd, this time standing calmly, her legs apart, both hands on her staff that was resting right in front of her. The tall and dark bodies of the orcs surrounded her, but she seemed oblivious to them. Irulan hacked her way towards her, but once she arrived there, the woman was gone.
"Show yourself!" she screamed, and her voice echoed painfully in the void, thrown back to her again and again, until she felt like she had been asked to do that by someone else. "I am here, show yourself!" she yelled again, all the time trying to see both ahead of her and over her shoulder, while Shifting in and out of the world. "I am here," echoed her own words back at her, "show yourself!"
"I am here! YOU show yourself! Coward!" she screamed back, slicing through dark meat as if slicing through inanimate, lifeless and soulless beings. Fury began to bubble up in her, finding ever more strength from her frustration. No matter how hard she tried, she failed to see more than little glimpses of hair or clothing or staff. "YOU show yourself!" rang back the echo of the flat voice, "Coward!" it screamed at her, followed by deep, amused laughter.
Then the woman was right in front of her, oddly holding an orcish blade, meaning to bring it down to her right shoulder. Irulan acted immediately and ducked, whirled and sliced through her. She regained her posture with deep satisfaction blooming in her, expecting to see the woman falling into half right before her eyes, but instead, only another Uruk-hai fell, still holding the blade that was meant to kill her. Stunned, she walked up to the fallen figure and ignoring the tumult before her, momentarily bent down to pick up the creature's head. Disgusted, she dropped the head of the orc back and another wave of fury hit her as she Shifted again, to charge. "I am here!" echoed a voice in the void, "Coward!"
Irulan felt both fear and fury dancing in her, one replacing the other instantly, and now that the Shifting itself had changed, neither left her even when she was in the void. "Who are you?!" she screamed in desperation, knowing the answer perfectly well, but fearing it more than she had feared anything else in her life.
"Who are you?" whispered the echo back and it sounded so close to her ear, she shrank back, instantly turning around to see if the woman was there. She was alone, surrounded by frozen statues of orcs, lost in a forest of foreign creatures. Her sense of direction set in and she quickly ran up in the void to cut the Uruks that seemed to have passed by her, heading towards the direction she had come from (it was the direction of Helm's Deep, of course, but Irulan had long ago forgotten about the fortress). "Who are you?" the whisper came back once more. Irulan's heart was pounding painfully now, her pulse speeding up to frightening limits. Although the feeling of pain and effort was still masked in the void, she felt them lurking behind the door. The moment she opened the door, they would clash into her.
"I am Irulan!" she screamed back, fury burning her nerve endings with such intense fire, it literally hurt. She could hear a chuckle then and did not know which direction it came from. She felt already dizzy from all the turning in circles, her futile attempts to glimpse the Other. "*I* am Irulan," the woman whispered back and appeared right in front of her, another orcish sword hanging limply from her right hand, a smile adorning her lips. Irulan grinded her teeth and approached her, her staff buzzing in her hands, ready to slay.
"No, *I* am Irulan," she hissed and attacked. Once more, an instant satisfaction and joy set in as she felt the blades of her staff slicing the head off the creature. And once more confusion gave way to fury when she turned around to find an orc in the place of that damn woman!
"Coward!" she heard her voice suddenly and looked up to see her standing once more amongst the first ranks of the orcs, once more oddly oblivious to their existence. "I am here!"
"Show yourself!" said another exact duplicate of the Other, appearing right next to the first one. Their staffs flickered, disappeared, then flickered and were instantly replaced by Isengard swords.
Irulan remained rooted for a moment. Suddenly her senses returned for a brief blink of an eye. She realized that she was only fighting mirror images of herself..that they did not exist..that she had begun to see things and react to the echo of her own words as if they were spoken by someone else. Without knowing how, she knew that she should never give in to the temptation and fight them, for they would keep luring her away from...from...from where? She frowned as she tried to remember, but failed. She looked up, confused, all the world halted in motion - that is, all the world except the two twins before her. They smiled at her, the corners of their lips turning upward in perfect unison. "Who are you?" they said, their voices so perfectly overlapping, that it sounded like a single voice and a single utterance.
A hate like no other overcame Irulan. She did not fight it, but even if she had, she was sure that she would not have succeeded in suppressing such a force. All shriveled and died at the sight of such fervor. She inhaled its sharp scent and felt hate raging in her, like an airborne disease that had found a new host. Her past and her future melted away. The moment remained. Nothing mattered any longer. Hate needed neither reason nor motivation. Its being alone provoked such energy, that it HAD to be put into motion. Irulan felt it boiling in her, burning her like hot water burns a vessel.
She Shifted out and impaled an Uruk, forcefully driving the staff into the ground. The creature and the staff stood erect, bound to remain like that like a grotesque monument. She reached and pulled the sword from behind her back, its slender form and comfortable weight odd in her hands. "Very well," she said and walked towards the Uruk-hai who were partly falling back from this frightening creature before them. Irulan was so lost in her own battle that she did not see that more and more Uruks were slipping past her now, and once more returning to their task of invading Helm's Deep. She had killed countless, and yet even with her healed state, this much Shifting was bound to unearth unwanted guests. The Uruk-hai before her began to fall, while others closed in on her. Darma Druid or not, a single person was no match for an army like this.
But Irulan was not engaged in this battle any longer. Her body killed orcs left and right, but her mind was fixed on her twin sisters before her, waiting calmly and with amused looks for her to come closer. The blade in her hand sang of long forgotten songs as she swung it. "Very well," she said again when she was close enough and looked up to see a third Irulan joining the duo before her. "Dance with me," she said and the other three joined her words in perfect unison, their voices exactly her own voice, "Sister."
***
Legolas held Arod's reins as the horse softly neighed and backed away from the gate that was opening before them now. "You better bring her back, elf!" said Gimli from below and he looked down to meet eyes with the dwarf.
"I will, Gimli!" he said and his voice was cold determination itself.
Aragorn appeared by them, then, on his own horse, his sword in his hand, his other hand holding the reins. Legolas could see Theoden and Eomer right beside the ranger, their eyes locked to the gate, their own swords drawn. Aragorn gave elf and dwarf one last look and then dug his heels in. Legolas mimicked him instantly and bolted out momentarily. Gimli glanced at their receding forms for another moment, then ran up to blow the horn. The dawn was breaking and he told his heart stubbornly that it would not be the last dawn he would witness.
Legolas was greeted by the soft bluish light that spoke of a very near dawn. The air was cool to the touch, but it felt comforting, for a fire was burning in him. The idea of Irulan occupied his mind like something he had never encountered before. His world swam, his feelings drowning, floating like dead bodies on the ocean that was her. Memories flooded back to him, mercilessly beating down on him again and again and again. "Irulan," he thought. "Irulan, be safe. Be well. Stay with me." His anxiety was the storm beating on the dark ocean in his mind. Thunder cracked the sky; the salty waters slapped him like sharp blades. He had never seen the ocean itself, but only drawings of it in books. Yet, it was as vivid as if his own eyes had observed it. He blinked away the water in his eyes to see Irulan. They rode on and on, and although they encountered a few Uruk-hai running up to the gates, it was nothing compared to the bodies lying on the floor, growing cold with the lack of life. So many! So many! 'She is healed,' he told himself once more, 'She can not fall.' And yet...so many!
Suddenly he saw her staff, driven through an Uruk-hai from shoulder to leg, forcing him to remain erect even in his death. He should have been terrified. He should have been disgusted. But he felt nothing but the salty clash of waves on him. With one swift moment he pulled the staff out of the creature and continued his riding, for he had glimpsed Irulan ahead, swinging her narrow blade. There was a clumsiness and oddness to her movements that had not been there before. Legolas felt eyes on him and turned to look at Aragorn. "We will protect you, Legolas," the ranger said and rode ahead to engage in a battle with the Uruks who grew ever more in number now, as the stone path had become wider and as Irulan seemed incapable of stopping all from flowing by her. Legolas jumped from Arod and ran up to her. He was perfectly aware that Irulan might not and most probably would not recognize him any longer. He should have jumped off that damn wall! He should have gone to her while he still had the chance. And yet...he felt no fear. If Irulan would slice through him now, he would feel only relief. He would not live to see her failing and falling. He would not live to see her pain. As sick as it was, happiness surged through him with the thought of death at her hands and he ran faster.
***
Irulan was surrounded by images of herself. The thought of orcs and Uruk- hai had faded from her mind as had everything else. The world did not exist. She was under blankets of silence and heat, pushing down on her like natural forces. Her blade met other blades, crossed them, parried them, attacked them, then cut through flesh and bone. And yet, her sisters kept re-appearing again and again. She looked up at the uncountable mass of Irulans, dancing around her and though she should have felt fear, she felt nothing but hate. Her muscles ached and even in the deepness of the void she had begun to feel the wounds that were bleeding mercilessly. And yet, she did not care. Even if her blood would flow out of her now, she knew that she would continue hacking, for hate would replace her life energy and would drag her on. She charged again and again, she Shifted again and again, not really paying attention any longer.
Then something very strange happened. Suddenly the world stopped completely. She was forced to a freezing halt herself and even though she could not move her head, her eyes took in the other Irulans, arrested in utter surprise and shock as well. A pain flew through her and it felt as if the source for this pain was somewhere behind her, and as if the fire erupting from there licked through her entire existence, hitting her back and leaving her face. Then another wave of pain hit her, and then another. At the same moment she heard a strange sound - it sounded like a mixture of breaking glass and the howling of a gust of wind as it surged through a hole in the wall. She felt something around her collapsing and tried to instinctively bring up her arms to cover her face, but failed doing so for she was still frozen. Instantly the howling wind turned into a storm and Irulan watched in amazement as it blew away all the other Irulans around her, throwing them off into the air. A moment later, all had disappeared, and with them vanished the pain as well as the wind itself and her own stiffness. She stumbled a few steps ahead, completing the motion she had meant to before the spell had taken a hold on her and immediately turned around to see the source of this tumult.
It would have been a mistake to say that Irulan felt surprised to see Legolas standing before her, for surprise was not the feeling. Neither was it astonishment or shock. It was not relief or understanding either. Her mind failed to grasp what her eyes were perceiving; much less did she realize his identity. All she saw was a man looking down at her with impossibly blue eyes, and embedded in a light that was painful to behold. Her eyes watered with the intensity of it, so she turned to look away, but found herself locked to the blue eyes of the man, who stepped closer. Time was frozen. Irulan took a step back. She neither saw the Uruks around her, nor the elves or men fighting with them. She was not aware of Rohan or Helm's Deep or the battle for survival. The blade was forgotten in her hand, and slid from her grasp, meeting the stone floor, along with her own name and every other memory she had once possessed. She was as empty as a blank piece of paper, waiting to be written upon. The man was right in front of her in the blink of an eye, and the light that seemed to pour from him seemed almost painful at the moment. She tried to step back again, but he grabbed the front of her tunic and jerked her to himself so hard, she almost lost her footing. She felt his lips meeting hers and it was only then that Irulan felt surprise.
Only bare moments had passed since Legolas had spoken the words embedded in Irulan's mind...the only words that would wake her up. His own voice seemed foreign to him when he had said them and when she stopped and turned to face him, he had no idea how to proceed. He had often tried to imagine the moment, had often thought of what to do. He knew he had only very few precious moments before the darkness would set in on her mind again and take Irulan from him forever. Images of himself grasping a shocked Irulan and binding her hands and feet, then hauling her onto his shoulder to run back had come to him. He had dreamt of images of himself knocking her unconscious and then once more carrying her back to safety. Yet, when he stood there at the break of dawn, facing the woman he loved in that state, he forgot them all. And he did something that he certainly would have believed to be foolish if he had thought of it before - he grabbed her and kissed her. She remained stunned for a moment, then he felt her trying to fight him off, but Legolas quickly discarded the staff in his hand and pulled her into a tighter embrace, deepening the kiss. His love, his anxiety, his fear and concern for her exploded in him and he could not help himself holding her stronger and claiming her lips, even though she resisted him as if he was a complete stranger.
She could just go on and kill him now. He did not care. The world meant nothing without her. For three thousand years he had been experiencing it, day in and day out, and he felt absolutely not the slightest regret at this moment as he let go of the wish to continue this habit. He thought of neither Mirkwood, nor his father, Aragorn or the Ring as he surrendered - though these thoughts and people had a much longer history in his mind. Irulan was the sole object in his mind, she was the only flame. If she meant to burn him as well as herself, he would join her gladly.
He broke the kiss, but held her shocked figure even stronger, afraid of losing her. "I love you, Irulan," he whispered and it was the only thing he could think of. It was the only thing worth saying. Those three words said it all. Let the world end here and now - for everything that needed to be said was said. Moments passed. Then more moments passed. And yet she did not strike. Moments passed again, and Irulan remained in his arms. Her breath was warm on his cool skin, gliding down his cheeks and his neck. She felt so small, so much like a child. And yet, this was no child. He desperately tried to think of something else to say, for love could certainly not be expected to draw a response from a Darma Druid. And yet..what worthy words could be said in a matter of seconds? "I love you," he said again and closed his eyes, waiting for her blow.
But the blow never came. Irulan stood in his arms, stiff and alert, not knowing what to do as memories flew and hacked through her mind. A storm of the past was here, hurling every single detail and every word of every conversation back at her in a matter of instants. And she only realized that she had forgotten them when she perceived them again, now. A lifetime had been taken from her and was granted back to her. A lifetime blessed with so much love, so much sacrifice! So many had shared it with her, so many had touched her heart and spirit. And in the middle of all was standing Legolas.
Legolas, who had loved her despite all her imperfections. Legolas, who had waited patiently through her immaturity, who had dealt lovingly with all her blows; who had accepted all her mistakes, even though she had stubbornly repeated them again and again. Legolas, who had always been ready to throw everything away, for a single embrace from her. Legolas, a creature worth everything she had to offer, and so much more. "Legolas," she whispered, as her eyes fluttered, her mind trying to slip away into the darkness.
Legolas tensed immediately. He knew that he had heard her whispering his name, and yet...it was so unexpected, it was so miraculous, he dared not believe it. He felt her giving in to his embrace, then and could not prevent the tiniest of hopes from glowing in his mind. There was no return from Fever. There was no undoing Fever. Yet....she had whispered his name. "Legolas," he heard her again, weaker this time and he hastily leaned back to look at her. Irulan felt limp in his arms and she sagged against his chest when he drew back. Panic seized him.
"Irulan," he said softly, trying not to scream with the anxiety. He did not know what else to do, so he quickly lifted her up and she leant her head on his shoulder, not looking up at him, but encircling his shoulder with her right arm. "Talk to me, Irulan," he said, but she remained silent. Irulan lifted her head to look around, the assault of consciousness and memories slowly taking mercy on her now. They were standing in the battlefield, with Uruks fighting Rohirrim on horses. The absurdity of their current situation would make her smile if she had had the strength for it.
Suddenly Legolas gasped. "Irulan," he said softly, not looking down at her, "Gandalf has come, Irulan." Her head snapped up at that and her eyes hastily looked for the beloved sight of the Wizard. And indeed, there he was - riding down from a hill towards the east, like a god. Rohirrim were following his lead, drawing ever nearer to the dark army of Uruks below. The sun came up then, and the golden light washed over the valley of Helm's Deep. Instantly it was Rohan again and the dark territory of the battle arena that would remain in their minds for many years to come, disappeared as the daylight brought back hope. Elf and woman remained frozen, watching the tiny shining figure of Gandalf reaching the Uruks and delving into them like a white lightning. "Gandalf is here, Irulan," Legolas whispered again and looked down at her face that was lost in the amazement of the moment. He watched her for a long time while she watched Gandalf, trying hard to keep her eyes open. "I love you, Irulan," he whispered again and she frowned and looked up at him.
"Legolas," she said then, and her voice was a soft brush in the clatter of battle, "take me from this place." Legolas looked at her for another moment, suddenly not knowing whether she meant the battlefield or Middle Earth altogether. Finally, still not sure but knowing that in either case he would have to take her back to the fortress first, he nodded and walked over to Arod, mounting the horse in one fluid movement, with Irulan still in his arms. He looked up in time to see the remaining Uruks turning around and running off, accepting defeat. So many were lost, and yet good had won over evil this night. He gently placed Irulan sideways on the saddle, holding her back with one arm while he reached out to the reins with the other. Suddenly he realized that both his hands were covered with thick blood. He brought his free hand up in confusion, looking at the warm red liquid gently dripping from his wrist down on the white mane of Arod.
"Irulan!" he said with haste now, and shook her gently. "Are you wounded?" Irulan did not answer him. She seemed to be sleeping. He quickly traced his hand up her torso and found a rather large wet spot on her side, right above her right kidney. Legolas slightly pushed himself back to take a better look at it and the sight took the color from his face. The bleeding was strong, for his entire tunic was covered with the blood that was slowly spreading and now even penetrating his inner shirt. His red hand shot up to tilt up Irulan's pale face, leaving markings on her chin. "Irulan!" he said, but her eyes remained closed and unmoving. Taking the reins once more, he dug his heels into Arod probably a little more painful than he needed to and the horse dashed towards the fortress in surprise.