Sarah here, for the last time! *snifflesnifflesob*
Lina: *ducks as a happy Rohirrim goes staggering past* Oh dear. *dodges as Thorongil, with Lina steering, goes dancing past* Oh my! *sees the Rohirrim, en masse, about to drop 100 bottles of mead from the top of a wall* Oh NO! AAAAH!! *right on Lina's cue, the mountains tumble and the sky falls* …… *Sarah suddenly falls so silent that the crickets can once more be heard* Shreep, shreep, shreep…. (that'd be the crickets, not Sarah) Lina. We have an award for you. It's called the LACE-COAT Award, and no, it has nothing to do with us giving you a jacket made out of eyelet — actually, it signifies: Largest Amount of Chaos Ever Caused On A Thread. You are a master, my dear, and we bow before your genius! Now then. No drinking, leave Aragorn alone, and don't provoke wizards: it's unhealthy! ;D
Eomer: As part of all of your bonus Hannah and I are providing cold showers, black coffee, and in the morning: sunglasses. *raises root beer bottle* Cheers.
Wellduh…: Thanks! We take pride in our Mallyrn. :)
Gwyn: Aww, thanks! Glad you liked it! :D
Asen: No, not forgotten! We just wondered what particular disaster was keeping you (Real Life strikes everyone, we know full well), and hoped it wasn't life-threatening. So glad you're back and haven't lost any limbs!! ;D Thanks on behalf of the happy couple! We had a lot of fun with that. And yeah, Gandalf is cool! :)
Saige: *hands saige a glass of water* Sorry we wore you out, but ever so glad you enjoyed it! And yeah, we're going to miss Nethtalt as well, not to mention you guys. *sniffle*
None: Only this last chapter, so I'm afraid we don't have time to spring anything else on them! And thank you for the respect, but this time we have decided to be good, cannon-abiding citizens and not have Legolas visit Lorien before FOTR. As it winds up turning out, Aragorn will be seeing it alone before he sees it with Legolas, but they *will* wind up seeing it together. :D
Maranwe: *doses out some Aspirin* For what's left of the headache! Glad that chapter worked a bit better for you! Hopefully this one will as well. ;) 'Tis a special compliment that you like our Gandalf, in spite of not much caring for Gandalf! Thanks! And thank you also on our happily married couple! :D Don't worry, *I'm* not as forgiving as they are either. *considers hunting Galmod down, even if he *is* technically Tolkien's* I believe at the end of our trailer we put our time estimate down on summer/fall… We'd choose a specific month like we did last time, but we have a very busy summer ahead and we decided it was better to be vague than to risk overshooting our deadline. Sorry about that, but if it makes you feel better, we will be e-mailing an alert to all our old readers when we start posting! :) And ours are the only ones you've ever reviewed?? Whoa. We're honored!
saber crazy: LOL! Yes, Duurben has joined! Should we get him a little badge? ;D Yes, only one chapter left, no, the good ones never last (Stars of Harad… sniff!), yes, we're already at work on a new one, and no— wait, um, could you define 'forever'? Okay, I'm kidding, but the most I can tell you is that we are *shooting for* summer/fall and that we'll e-mail you when we start posting! Until then, there's a trailer in Special Features. :) *dodges as saber goes after Galmod with a flamethrower* Sigh. And we're hoping to go see X2 soon, so I'm glad to hear it's good! As for Duurban: the real question is not 'how many Aragorn's are there in Middle Earth?', but 'how many people know that the heir of Isildur's name is "Aragorn" in the first place?' ;D
Mouse: *accepts jelly bean* Thank you so much! And so glad you liked our little ending party! :D
Hiro-tyre: My condolences to your brother, computer-hog though he may be. ;D And a very great thank you from Hannah and I on your review! Quality can easily equal quantity in these situations, and yours exceeded it, so you needn't worry about not having time to post more regularly. I'm sorry if I couldn't help laughing over the muddled state of our story as you began to see it! I think it was the Findel as a man thing that did me in… ;) On Galmod: I see your point. What we were trying to put across about Galmod was that he was very self-centered — that it was pride that drove him to work so hard at archery, and pride also that caused him to fight and to be jealous of Legolas. One thing we did not cover very well about him, though, was his fear of the unknown (also a contributor to his dislike of Legolas), and 'death' would have gone on that list. When it became clear that he was caught up in a lost cause, the combined forces of his selfishness and his fear were supposed to be what drove him from the field, but as I said: we didn't make as big an issue of his fear as we probably ought to have done, and that point likely got lost in the shuffle. :) *starts to laugh so hard she has to stop typing for a while* Okay, that run-on fight description of yours was *hilarious*! Hannah and I cracked up! We are equal parts thrilled and relieved that we hit the middle line in the battle scenes… we've read enough of the sorts you describe to seriously want to avoid both pitfalls! And I don't think I'll be reading Crossroads of Twilight. ;D Thank you so much on our climax/recovery!! Such things as that come of thoroughly enjoying those portions of other stories we've read. :D …and after that you will write more, and I will review more. Sounds good to us! *smiles brightly and heads off to write more*
Anarril: Yeah, that was kind of intended… Have you ever met a boy who *wasn't* fascinated with fireworks, though? ;D There may be a sequel to it somewhere down the road, but I'm not quite sure when… If we do ever write one, there's a good chance Duurben will be in it, but not our Rohan cast. *sniffle* Still, nothing is concrete yet, and we're currently involved in a completely different fic. :) Good eye! 'Findel' is the same elvish word that's in Glorfindel's name, and 'green' is indeed part of Kelegalen's name as well! The specific definitions are in Special Features. :D Thanks so much!
w: Once again: thank you so much! On our flow especially, since that is something that is hard to judge in one's own writing. So is humor, come to think of it… ;) The 'home' conversation just sort of came up, really. It was something we'd been thinking about, and Legolas' hesitant reaction ('home?') came more from us than it did from him. Fortunately, Thorongil had the answers, even if we didn't. ;) I'm glad you liked my firework! (yes, I'll go ahead and claim something from this fic) I absolutely loved the party scenes in the movie and wanted to get some of that in here! And you even liked Findel's giggle? Wow. That's great! :D Last of all: yes, we're going to miss Duurben too! *sniffle* There may be at some future date a fic with him in it again, but for now we just don't know. I think what we're hoping the most is that we don't wind up duplicating him in the next fic… ;P We'll miss ya!
And now *sob* the last chapter… *blows nose LOUDLY* Hwwoooonk!!
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Thorongil
By Sarah and Hannah (Siri)
(disclaimers, explanations, and summaries
available at the top of chapter 1)
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Chapter 30
Entulesse: The Return
Mavranor's litter had been brought to her when her people had first prepared to set out. She had gazed long at it, remembering her coming journey on the soft cushions behind the scarlet curtains. Then she had been queen of a mighty people; a people bent on conquest and new lands. No longer. Queen she was still, but not the soft being she felt she had been then. Hard she was inside, and chill as she gazed ahead at the road she had still to take. The road south and farther away. No more desire was left in her for desperate fights for foreign lands and other pointless endeavors. Had she any will left it was only for revenge — to take back a little of what had been taken from her. Gwanur first and then Harnwe. At the thought of her husband's name, the Southron queen mourned afresh, but silently and her eyes were dry.
But no. Her army was almost completely decimated. There was nothing left with which to take revenge. Nothing left at all. And so she had taken her seat, not in her litter, but upon the back of one of the remaining mûmakil. There was no one to care for her complexion anymore, so she sat, her face turned full into the harsh wind, and gave the order to march forward.
Now, days upon days later, they were again leaving Mordor behind. Ahead lay their old lands, and if Muindor had faired as badly in his battle against Gondor as she had heard, she would still be able to take back a portion of the lands that had once been freely hers. Already lines had formed around dark eyes that had once been bright and beautiful. Inside her mind remained alert and quick, but her heart had perished. There was no gathering it back.
"Harnwe," she whispered one last time, recalling that it had been she who had brought them to this place… But there was no good in speaking. Never again would she say his name. Empty words. Empty thoughts. And endless time to dwell on both.
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Thengel rested his hand against his horse's neck, feeling the weariness of the creature. "Soon," he assured his mount in an undertone, "soon."
His leg was sore and his men were tired as well, but he knew they would wish to rest in their own houses, and not on yet another strip of native, yet unfamiliar land. Tonight they would be home.
The setting sun was a brilliant orange and it stained the land beneath their feet as they at last came in sight of the golden halls of Edoras. The burnished pillars reflected the light, making it seem as thought the building were on fire, and lanterns were being lit amongst the houses around the hill. At the encircling wall could be seen the faint glitter of the sentries' armor. Above the gate there snapped the familiar banner: deep green with a prancing white horse.
The men assembled at the gates, there to be dismissed by their captains and to return to their homes. Thengel himself rode on through the streets, his personal guards alone following him. As he passed, women rushed from their houses, so eager at the news that their husbands and sons had returned that they nearly forgot to show the proper respect for their king. Thengel barely noticed them at all. He had eyes for only one woman at that moment.
As he entered the courtyard outside his halls, he caught sight of someone hurrying down the great stone steps. He dismounted hurriedly, wincing only slightly, and handing his reigns to the nearest soldier. A moment later Morwen had reached him, her arms twining about his neck as he kissed her. In that instant, he was home.
"How faired you in my absence, dearest heart?" he asked.
"Very well, my lord. Your son arrived from the western border only yesterday," she smiled through wet eyes at his look of surprise.
"So soon?"
"He is truly his father's son! The enemy was routed in but half the time we expected, and he is quite well. Theodwyn has been pleased beyond all forms of expression."
"I am sure of it," Thengel smiled as he guided his wife back up the steps. They reached the door as the last sliver of sun disappeared behind the hills, leaving only a pink glow in the west.
He entered the hall and found his children waiting. Théoden, taller than his father remembered, and stronger looking, both in body and in mind. Taetho, her hair neat and her expression unutterably relieved. Theodwyn, dancing around his feet like a sprite, crowing excitedly over his return and begging to be held, even as she moved far too fast for him to catch her.
He removed his cloak and laid it aside, and the wooden door closed behind him.
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'Well, here we are, just the four of us that started out together,' said Merry. 'We have left all the rest behind, one after another. It seems almost like a dream that has slowly faded.'
'Not to me,' said Frodo. 'To me it feels more like falling asleep again.'
— The Return of The King
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Green sunlight filtered through the trees and the leaves rustled with the same tone as the rushing river just out of sight. Gandalf was humming a song under his breath, his staff moving in time to the rhythm of the tune, and Legolas allowed himself to relax into a steady walk. His hair was neatly braided once again, and though his clothing was still such garments as he had managed to borrow from Thorongil and Nethtalt, he barely noticed its poor design any longer.
A few minutes later, the wizard came suddenly to a halt, "Here is where I leave you, Prince Legolas."
The elf blinked, glancing up in surprise, "Leave?"
"I told you we should part at the Anduin, and that is not the Brandywine you hear." The wizard tipped his hat with a smile, "Farewell wherever you fare."
Legolas brought his palm to his shoulder and inclined his head in response, still dazed somewhat by the wizard's abrupt announcement. It was not until Gandalf had nearly passed out of sight between the trees that he found his tongue.
"Mithrandir, when will I speak with you again?"
"When next you see me, of course!" the wizard called back, and was gone.
For a moment there was silence as the elf paused to ponder the characteristic answer. It felt strangely like he was progressing back in time, slowly losing the people who had gathered about him on his journey. Now all who remained were those who had set out originally. Or at least, one of them.
With a sigh, Legolas turned towards the lonely road ahead and then froze. A faint sound came to him from the bushes and he crouched low, wondering if this area was truly as full of wargs as it seemed, or if he merely attracted them for some strange reason. When the creature spoke, he only barely kept himself from tumbling into the leaves as he dropped his arrow.
"You ought to have a physician examine your ears, Trelan."
"I *heard* him!" came the short reply, followed soon after by the appearance of a short elf. He glared over his shoulder at his taller companion and did not watch his footing in consequence. Thrusting out his bow Legolas caught the elf across the shins, tripping him up.
With a startled cry Trelan fell, but even as he landed practically on top of his 'attacker', he had drawn his knife to defend himself. Twisting about, the elf planted his knee in Legolas' stomach and brought the knife to his throat. "What are you about, you—" Trelan started to demand, noting only the clothing at first, and then caught the raised eyebrows of his prince above the sharp blade in his hand. "Legolas!"
The taller elf cleared the bushes, took in the scene, and sighed, "Trelan, we were to *find* him, not *finish* him. I told you your hearing was bad."
Trelan had backed up hastily, offering his hand to Legolas even as he retorted, "Well, I was right, Raniean. He *is* here — albeit oddly dressed."
"That I am, and what are you doing here?" Legolas asked, brushing himself off calmly.
Raniean smiled, relieved to see his prince looking so well, "Searching for you, naturally. You don't honestly think that your father would simply accept your disappearance without another thought, did you? Let alone Trelan and myself."
"It's happened so often, I wouldn't be surprised."
Trelan perched on a stump and shrugged, "Unfortunately, you can no longer blame these things on Strider."
Legolas flashed the elf a wicked grin, "Oh, perhaps I can…"
"What?" Raniean demanded.
Legolas laughed, but waved him off, "I'll explain later. But I wonder that you both left your company at the same time. Were you truly that worried?"
"Yes, if you must know, but it was to have been only Trelan originally." Here Raniean jabbed the shorter elf in the ribs, his lips quirking, "Then I reminded the king that anything strong enough to detain you for so long would be more than capable of squishing Trelan in one step, and, well…"
Trelan glared darkly at his companion, dodging away from the playful nudge and looking offended to the last degree, "If you continue on, Ran, I will have to give a complete account of what became of your bedroll."
Legolas chuckled and touched his arm, "Peace, my friend. I would fain have both your company on the way home, and if you kill each other now, I fear it will be quite impossible. Not," he added slyly, "that I would mind hearing what became of the bedroll."
Trelan brightened considerably, quite eclipsing his friend's frown, and said, "Well, to be fair to poor Ran ("Which you never are," Raniean muttered.), it wouldn't have happened but for one of those horribly acidic tree frogs and an owl who mistook it for a mouse. Then again, it wasn't the owl's fault that you sleep so close to the fire either."
Legolas rose and gestured to them both. "Come, we really must travel while we talk. We have a fair journey before us, and we should begin as soon as possible."
Trelan followed with alacrity, and Raniean moved to Legolas' other side. As they traveled out of hearing, the last sounds were of Legolas' laughter.
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For a time, the two men had talked of many things: Duurben's life in Ithilien, the outcome of Denethor's battle with the Southrons, and Thorongil's many mishaps while in the company of his elven friend. Now they seemed to fall into the rhythm of traveling and spoke little, merely enjoying each other's company.
It was by no means unpleasant, but Thorongil sensed that his lieutenant had something on his mind. Several times he caught the faint sounds of Duurben preparing to speak, and then faltering midway and falling back into silence. The day after they passed back into their own land, they made camp in the evening and Thorongil finally determined to draw his everlastingly taciturn friend out.
Putting steel to flint, he struck a small fire with unconscious ease, and when he looked up to see Duurben gazing hard at him, he spoke suddenly, "You might as well tell me all that is on your mind, my friend. I should prefer to be in your confidence and discuss it openly rather than have it running loose in the dark. Especially when it seems to be consuming so much of your thought."
The soldier started, "I do not think that—"
"Please do," Thorongil retorted dryly, easing back against a tree and giving his companion his full attention.
He had been prepared for Duurben to ask a thorny question, or even confess some perceived misdeed, but he was unprepared for the other man's sudden bold announcement.
"I've discovered something about you."
Thorongil tried not to look nervous as he responded, "Oh?"
Duurben's dark eyes were keen, "You are not truly a foreign adventurer here to join in our wars."
"What makes you think that?" Thorongil asked, feeling his anxiety rise, yet realizing he had no one to blame for this moment but himself.
"Your skill in the forests, your wide knowledge, and especially your familiarity with the elves — which has come out before now, though I did not at first recognize it — they all point to one very plain truth."
Thorongil braced himself.
"You are a native of Gondor, in every pore and fashion, and no stranger as you claim."
If Duurben had doubted his long considered guess, it was confirmed in his eyes by the very real shock on his companion's face.
"Your loyalty to this land, your strength, even your manner of speech and appearance speak of it… I am amazed that it has taken so long for anyone, especially myself, who has been with you so long, to realize what those characteristics mean! You are a Dúnedan, a Ranger of the South — such as now roam the groves of my old home in Ithilien." He paused, twisting the fastenings on his bracers between his fingers, then continued, "And if I have seemed presumptuous in finding you out, I hope you will not hold it against me. It was you who begged me to make my thoughts known to you. I will, of course, say nothing to anyone, nor will I ever mention it aloud again, even when we are alone."
"No, you had best not," Thorongil agreed, finding himself abruptly faced with the task of hiding a great many different emotions at once. "But do not fear, I am not angry with you." He paused, then added, "You are much more curious than even I ever gave you credit for, Duurben. That could be useful, if you're careful not to let it carry you away."
He smiled and Duurben looked relieved.
"Thank you, Captain Thorongil. I will keep that in mind."
//And Legolas will never believe this…//
End
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For any of you who like to watch Special Features on DVDs, we have included our own for this story. Proceed to the next page at your own risk!! ; )