Blind to Hope

Italics means Elvish or thoughts

Bold means translation of Elvish

Disclaimer: I own nothing but a binder of geometry homework.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ Legolas's POV *~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

It is crowded.

Everywhere, men, women, and children are preparing. Men who have never before wielded weapons are taking up arms. Wives are bidding farewell to their husbands, some sobbing and pleading for them to stay. Children cry in their mothers' arms, asking where daddy has gone. I see a little child, twelve years of age at the most, pick up a sword. He grasps it awkwardly, obviously not knowing how to use it. They're not ready! I want to scream.

How did it ever come to this? That we would be trapped here within the walls of Helm's Deep, trapped, like rats in a cage. We were too few, too inexperienced to battle against the orcs that were coming. So few…what hope did we have of winning this battle?

I do not know why such despair has come over me…all I know is that I cannot see hope. No hope…my mind seems to whisper.

//Flashback//

"Farmers, farriers, stable boys. These are no soldiers." said Aragorn.  

"Most have seen too many winters." Gimli spoke

 "Or too few. Look at them. They're frightened. I can see it in their eyes." I said. "Boe a hyn: neled herain dan caer menig." And they should be. 300 against 10 000.

"Si beriathar hýn ammaeg nâ ned Edoras." Aragorn said. They have a better chance defending themselves here than in Edoras.

"Aragorn, nedin dagor hen ú-'erir otheri. Natha daged dhaer!" I said with despair. They cannot win this fight. They are all going to die!

"Then I shall die as one of them!" Aragorn shouted before turning and striding away.

//End flashback//  

I regret the words I spoke to Aragorn…just because I could not see the hope did not mean that I should discourage him. He is truly a valiant leader of Men. I stride up the stairs. I need to be up high, in the open air, where I can feel the wind on my face and see nature all around me. I need to find hope.

The people here glance at me as I pass by. Some are curious—they have probably never seen an Elf before. But some glance at me with fear, and that saddens me. That we should come to this…trapped within the walls but still fearing each other, fearing those that were allies.

I reach the ramparts. Below me is a field of grass, greens and browns blowing in the wind. The wind…it refreshes me, reminds me of all that is good and green in the world. It seems to me that beyond the walls of the Deep is another world altogether, one that seems so far away right now, untouchable, unreachable. And tonight, I mused, many will never again see that world again… No. I shake my head, trying to dispel these dark thoughts, this despair that seemed to cloak me, wrap me in an impenetrable fog…suffocating me.

But why? I ask myself. Why should I feel like this? Why can I not see hope when so many others can? Am I afraid? Afraid that tonight, my life will be blown out, like a flickering candle in the wind? For in the end, can I truly make a difference? For what am I but a small trickle of water, flowing against the large rock? For what am I but the tiny raindrop that beats once, uselessly, against the roof of a stone house, disappearing as soon as that vital splatter is made? But, many small trickles create a river, just as many raindrops create a storm, I remind myself.

The wind blows…unaware of the trouble of this Middle-earth. It cares not for Man, Elf, nor Dwarf. And suddenly, I wish that I could be like the wind, free, free to wander anywhere I choose, free from the burdens of responsibility and life itself. I can almost hear it laughing, playing as it tumbles, flying far and fast into the vast regions of the world. It lightens my heart. To me, the wind seems to say, worry not, for I will still be here when the night is over. Worry not, for tonight is not the end. Let your fears fly from your heart. Sing and dance and make merry right now and forget about the troubles of the world! But that is the nature of wind and not of living beings. For living beings must take care of what goes on about them and cannot sit and make merry all day.

My present mood lets itself be known through a song. Melancholy words flow from my lips. It is an Elven song, one used for sad occasions. Many faces turn toward me, but I ignore them. As I sing, I become angry, angry at myself. Was I just pitying myself? I, an experienced Elven warrior, was here, singing while everyone else prepared for battle. Was I truly such a coward? But the song seemed to take a life of its own, new words entering, words that talked of darkness and shadow. My mind seemed to be full of it right now…no hope…

"Well, Master Elf," a gruff voice booms out, startling me out of the poignant tune. "I come searching for you and find you singing prettily to yourself!"

"I needed a change of scenery, Master Dwarf." I reply lightheartedly, hiding all the emotions I had been feeling before. "And hearing your voice all day has been hard on my poor ears!"

Gimli grumbles a little bit, and I laugh, a true laugh. Gimli never seems to become depressed. He is always a solid anchor of stability and strength. For a moment, I envied that. "Tell me, Gimli," I said, becoming serious. "Have you seen Aragorn about?"

"No," he replies, "I have not, but I would be willing to go search for him with you." And so we set out to find Aragorn. I ponder what I will say to him. I do not feel we can win this battle. We stride in silence back down the steps, receiving more curious gazes. An Elf alone is strange enough, but an Elf and a Dwarf together! What will I tell him? I wonder. How can I talk to him of hope when I can see none? For now, the dark mood had once again settled over me. We stop at the armory first. Aragorn is not there, but we decide to put on armor while we're there. Gimli disappears somewhere, searching for something that will fit him. I choose my armor and don it quickly, though I usually do not wear armor.

Deciding to go ahead and continue searching for Aragorn, I leave the armory with long strides. My mind seems to be in turmoil. Part of me wants to tell Aragorn my true feelings…yet, I do not wish to destroy his hope. That would be selfish, to bring my black despair onto him. I finally see him in a far off room, strapping on his armor. I observe him for a second. He has a look of determination about him and power seemed to radiate from him. He is truly a king of Men, I think to myself. As he reaches for his sword, I hand it to him. Our eyes lock.

"We have trusted you this far and you have not led us astray. Forgive me. I was wrong to despair." I say softly, though inwardly, I knew that I still despaired. But better to let Aragorn have the hope that I could not see.

"Ú-moe edhored, Legolas." There is nothing to forgive, Legolas. We clap each other on the shoulder, and my guilt increases. We cannot win! my mind screams at me. This is suicide! A battle in which none will emerge alive! Aragorn believes that I have seen the light, that his friend now fought beside him with hope in his heart. But nothing else could be done.

Gimli comes in, dressed in his armor, then looks down hopelessly. The armor falls to the ground drags across the floor, a few feet too long. "If we had time, I'd get this adjusted. It's a little tight across the chest." he says. Aragorn and I glance at each other, laughing silently.

A horn sounds outside the gates.

"That is no Orc horn!" I cry excitedly, racing down the steps. Elves from Lord Elrond have come to aid us in this battle. I embrace my kin, but my heart grows no lighter. Even with this added number, did we truly stand a hope against Saruman's army of 10,000 soldiers? Did we have a chance?

I see, as if from a distance, all of those whose faces show relief at this new addition, this new hope. I see people with grins on their faces. I see those who are with friends, joking and laughing. I see Aragorn conversing with the newly arrived Elves and Gimli standing nearby. But I do still do not see hope.

Why? Why can I not see it?

Why can I not see hope?

For there is none…

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

ok…that was one of the weirdest, most spontaneous things I have ever written. I was reading stories and just suddenly opened up word and began typing… no clue why… Probably one-shot, depending on the feedback I get (hint, hint). U can flame if u want to…probably deserves it…I'm really bad at portraying the LOTR characters…well any feedback is fine with me…this was my first LOTR angsty thing from a character's point of view. I have sort of an idea for another thing sort of like this or a continuation but if everyone just hates it, I'll stop.

                                                                            ~Lady of Dreams~