Author Notes: Finally I was able to update this!
I want to thank those incredibly nice people who actually sent me e-mail to feedback me so sweetly on this story. It was the best moment of my awful day. I also wish to thank all of those who reviewed here on the page (while it was still possible) your words mean the world to me.
English is my second language so I apologize for any mistakes made on this story. Elvish is the way I believe it to be, most likely mistaken. Quotes are taken from the book, with parts of my own in-between and…please, R&R?
Master in Deceiving
By Yours Truly
Now men came bearing raiment of war from the king's hoard and they arrayed Aragorn and Legolas in shining mail. Helms too they chose, and round shields: their bosses were overlaid with gold and set with gems, green and red and white.
Legolas was vaguely aware of extra weight being added to his body. Sighing softly to himself, he recognized the weight of armor, and knew it was time for battle. A battle *he* had to be on, not the ghost that he knew was out there with his face right at this moment.
{'Tis time I go outside, now}
{You believe so, then?}
{Nay, I know so, and I will not be swayed. War needs a warrior, and the not the façade of one}
{Nay}
{I will go}
{You will...}
{Si!} (Now!)
{Impatient, are we not? Very well, princeling... Go to your war, face what you must…just remember one thing}
{That I am weak?}
{I do not need remind you of that. Just remember that the only mask you have now, is the one you are denying to use}
{I shall not risk my friend's lives for an illusion of strength}
{Not again, you mean?}
Gandalf took no armor, and Gimli was given a cap of iron and leather that fitted well upon his round head; and a small shield he also took. It bore the running horse, white upon green, which was the emblem of the House of Eorl.
"May it keep you well!" said Théoden. "It was made for me in Thengel's day, while still I was a boy"
Legolas fought his way back, just in time to hear those words, and in days long forgotten he knew he would have smiled at the king's words. Now, he could not even begin to try. Laughter was light, and light did not seem to touch him any longer.
The elf saw Aragorn staring into his face and lifted his fair head to meet grey eyes. But before anything could be seen by each of them, the ranger's attention was pulled from the elf towards a beautiful, and obviously interested, young woman, who was serving the wine and hailing each of them. Éowyn had paused with Aragorn and seemed to tremble slightly. Legolas sighed sadly for the disappointment he was sure she was going to feel later on.
Éowyn reached him shortly after and with a small smile; she had welcomed the Prince of Mirkwood. He had attempted to smile back and nodded to her, as she passed on to another. When they had all drunk, the king went down the hall to the doors. There the guards awaited him, and heralds stood, and all the lords and chiefs were gathered together that remained in Edoras or dwelt nearby.
While it was decided who the new leader of the Rohan folk would be, Legolas turned his head away from business of a land that was not his own. As if he resurfacing from the strongest nightmare, he felt really awake for the first time since…Lothlórien it seemed. His eyes could stare into the beauty of the hall, and the scenery beyond the windows. He could see, he could hear, he felt like himself…
There was something wrong then…there just had to be…
"It shall be so," said Théoden, startling him. "Let the heralds announce to the folk that the Lady Éowyn will lead them!"
And once said so, Lady Éowyn was handed a sword and named as the Lady of the house, until the king's return…or the new king's return. She took it to the doors with her, when the company followed the king, to leave the castle on their way to the East.
Aragorn looked back as they passed towards the gate. Alone Éowyn stood before the doors of the house at the stair's head; the sword was set upright before her, and her hands were laid upon the hilt. She was clad now in mail and shone like silver in the sun. To Legolas, she seemed like some Elven Queen of old, ready for battle. Perhaps, more ready for the upcoming battle than most of them.
Gimli, having noticed the change in the elf, now walked with Legolas, testing his observations while walking with his axe on his shoulder. "Well, at last we set off!" he said. "Men need many words before deeds. My axe is restless in my hands. Though I doubt not that these Rohirrim are fell-handed when they come to it. Nonetheless this is not the warfare that suits me. How shall I come to the battle? I wish I could walk and not bump like a sack at Gandalf's saddlebow."
Legolas turned his face towards his friend, and Gimli saw for himself that the now familiar fog in cerulean eyes was gone. "A safer seat than many, I guess," said Legolas. "Yet doubtless Gandalf will gladly put you down on your feet when blows begin; or Shadowfax himself. An axe is no weapon for a rider."
The elven voice was calm, and held the smallest hint of amusement in it, while he looked at his friend for a reaction. Gimli was surprised to find that without this…sort of façade Legolas had always shown him, he seemed…different…much younger, to start.
"And a Dwarf is no horseman. It is orc-necks I would hew, not shave the scalps of Men," said Gimli, patting the haft of his axe, stealing a glance at the elf. Yes, he seemed younger, and much less protected that he had before. He seemed much less…Legolas.
At the gate they found a great host of men, old and young, all ready in the saddle. More than a thousand were there mustered. Their spears were like a springing wood. Loudly and joyously they shouted as Théoden came forth. Some held in readiness the king's horse, Snowmane, and others held the horses of Aragorn and Legolas.
Legolas noticed sadly that there were many young boys between the men, who seemed to have left their houses ready for battle no more than an hour or so ago. Éomer stood beside Gimli now, speaking with the dwarf and trying to make peace. Legolas turned away from the conversation as he neared his horse. The animal seemed glad to see him, and gently nuzzled his neck. He smiled sadly at the mane, patting the strong body gently. The horse suddenly was staring at him, and he almost laughed. Even this sweet horse could see something was wrong.
'Sîdh, mellon nîn' (Peace, my friend) He whispered gently and the horse nuzzled his neck again in response.
When finally reaching an agreement with Éomer, Gimli noticed Legolas' sad gaze as he caressed the four-footed nightmare that he called a horse…maybe not so bad, but the horse was no place for a dwarf…
"I thank you indeed," said Gimli to Éomer, greatly pleased. "I will gladly go with you, if Legolas, my comrade, may ride beside us."
"It shall he so," answered Éomer. "Legolas upon my left, and Aragorn upon my right, and none will dare to stand before us!"
The elf looked up at the mention of his name, and focusing on the words that had been said, he nodded, almost to himself. "Very well, my friends" His voice whispered, but none heard him. He mounted his gentle horse swiftly, moving to the left of Éomer's horse, where Gimli was riding, as he had heard that he should do.
"Behold the White Rider!" cried Aragorn, startling Legolas, and all took up the words.
"Our King and the White Rider!" they shouted. "Forth Eorlingas!"
The trumpets sounded. The horses reared and neighed. Spear clashed on shield. Then the king raised his hand, and with a rush like the sudden onset of a great wind the last host of Rohan rode thundering into the West.
{You should have been left behind}
{You are no warrior}
{Shell of an elf}
{Useless}
{Weak}
{You shall die}
{You shall kill them all}
{You shall slaughter innocent men}
{You will be the doom of all who ride with you}
Far over the plain Éowyn saw the glitter of their spears, as she stood still, alone before the doors of the silent house. Her keen eyes focused on the fading figures, before she looked to the sky and hoped for strength.
Strength for the men, for the young, for the heir to Gondor, for her own king, for herself…and for the elf that she knew, would probably die in battle. To her gaze, he had seemed to be dying all ready.
****
The host rode on. Need drove them. Fearing to come too late, they rode with all the speed they could, pausing seldom. Swift and enduring were the steeds of Rohan, but there were many leagues to go. Forty leagues and more it was, as a bird flies, from Edoras to the fords of the Isen, where they hoped to find the king's men that held back the hosts of Saruman.
Night closed about them. At last they halted to make their camp. Wearily the men mounted down their horses, in a great circle, under the starry sky and the waxing moon, they now made their bivouac. They lit no fires, for they were uncertain of events; but they set a ring of mounted guards about them, and scouts rode out far ahead, passing like shadows in the folds of the land. It was quiet all around; just a few whispers between comrades could be detected.
Legolas looked to his right when he jumped off Arod, and saw one of the youngest of the company looking sadly towards the dark sky. Silent steps took the elf next to the boy who looked no older than fifteen winters. Focusing dimmed senses on the silent figure he noticed the air of complete loneliness that the kid seemed to radiate, and the Prince just knew that someone close to this soul had been lost to the unknown fate that waits for mortals once they go beyond the body. Making sure the boy noticed his presence; he stood beside him for a moment.
"Eru gave your kind a gift that no elf will receive, young one, do not believe it to be a curse. Whoever is gone, will be with you once again… if that is to be" the melodic voice of the elf traveled in the silence, and some men turned their heads towards the conversation.
The boy turned shocked eyes to the elf standing next to him, and after a few tries, his voice finally whispered. "How did you…do you…how?"
{A dead one, can sense death}
A sad smile gazed the immortal lips. "I saw you" he whispered "looking at the stars…a sign of hope, are they not?"
The boy nodded silently, and turned his gaze back to the sky. "You believe him to be all right?"
{Better than here}
"'Tis a gift, young one, a gift many of my kind hope for, and shall never know"
{And should know}
The kid's eyes turned to look at the elf, but Legolas was gone to tend to his horse. With a small smile the kid nodded to himself, and with a last gaze to the stars his father had loved, he went to rest for the night.
Legolas lay down on the hard ground, after making sure that Arod was all right, and focused his own gaze on the sky. The stars blinked back at him from their dark home. He felt someone lay down next to him, and turned to look at the new arrival. Aragorn sat on the ground, looking at him with a small smile on his lips.
"That was very noble of you, my friend" the man whispered, "How you knew that, I know not, but you did exactly what that young man needed"
Legolas looked back towards the sky, and answered after a moment of silence "It is a gift, Aragorn" he spoke softly, without glancing at the ranger "Indeed…one that should not be given to those who still have ties to this lands. What that young one needs, 'tis the one he lost…so many important mortals gone, Aragorn…and too many immortal ones, that should leave the land"
{Nay, 'tis just me who should leave the land}
{You should have left it long ago, and many of the mortal ones would still be among this earth}
{I cannot leave it}
{Aye, you can}
{I am immortal…I would still live}
{Do you wish to leave the land?}
{With each passing instant…}
{Let me help you, my princeling}
Grey eyes studied the face of his elven friend with worry, and the unguarded features caught him by surprise. Never had he seen the Prince like this: his face alive with emotion, and his blue eyes…dead.
"Legolas" He whispered, and the dying gaze regarded him "Is this really you?"
{You can help me?}
{Aye}
A small smile crossed the lips of the elf, and the penetrating blue eyes burned deep into Aragorn's grey ones. "Is it not horrible, when your true face is the unrecognizable mask?"
Aragorn closed his eyes briefly, and he placed a hand on the slim shoulder of the archer. "You shall beat this, Legolas, you are strong…'tis the shadow…"
Silence answered the ranger, and he noticed the small tears that wanted to escape Legolas' eyes as he turned his face away from him. The elf shook his head wordlessly, and his eyes went unfocused in sleep. The slow night passed without tidings or alarm. At dawn the horns sounded, and within an hour they took the road again.
To be continued.
R&R please…just in case, my mail 'tis fox_angel18@hotmail.com
I want to thank those incredibly nice people who actually sent me e-mail to feedback me so sweetly on this story. It was the best moment of my awful day. I also wish to thank all of those who reviewed here on the page (while it was still possible) your words mean the world to me.
English is my second language so I apologize for any mistakes made on this story. Elvish is the way I believe it to be, most likely mistaken. Quotes are taken from the book, with parts of my own in-between and…please, R&R?
Master in Deceiving
By Yours Truly
Now men came bearing raiment of war from the king's hoard and they arrayed Aragorn and Legolas in shining mail. Helms too they chose, and round shields: their bosses were overlaid with gold and set with gems, green and red and white.
Legolas was vaguely aware of extra weight being added to his body. Sighing softly to himself, he recognized the weight of armor, and knew it was time for battle. A battle *he* had to be on, not the ghost that he knew was out there with his face right at this moment.
{'Tis time I go outside, now}
{You believe so, then?}
{Nay, I know so, and I will not be swayed. War needs a warrior, and the not the façade of one}
{Nay}
{I will go}
{You will...}
{Si!} (Now!)
{Impatient, are we not? Very well, princeling... Go to your war, face what you must…just remember one thing}
{That I am weak?}
{I do not need remind you of that. Just remember that the only mask you have now, is the one you are denying to use}
{I shall not risk my friend's lives for an illusion of strength}
{Not again, you mean?}
Gandalf took no armor, and Gimli was given a cap of iron and leather that fitted well upon his round head; and a small shield he also took. It bore the running horse, white upon green, which was the emblem of the House of Eorl.
"May it keep you well!" said Théoden. "It was made for me in Thengel's day, while still I was a boy"
Legolas fought his way back, just in time to hear those words, and in days long forgotten he knew he would have smiled at the king's words. Now, he could not even begin to try. Laughter was light, and light did not seem to touch him any longer.
The elf saw Aragorn staring into his face and lifted his fair head to meet grey eyes. But before anything could be seen by each of them, the ranger's attention was pulled from the elf towards a beautiful, and obviously interested, young woman, who was serving the wine and hailing each of them. Éowyn had paused with Aragorn and seemed to tremble slightly. Legolas sighed sadly for the disappointment he was sure she was going to feel later on.
Éowyn reached him shortly after and with a small smile; she had welcomed the Prince of Mirkwood. He had attempted to smile back and nodded to her, as she passed on to another. When they had all drunk, the king went down the hall to the doors. There the guards awaited him, and heralds stood, and all the lords and chiefs were gathered together that remained in Edoras or dwelt nearby.
While it was decided who the new leader of the Rohan folk would be, Legolas turned his head away from business of a land that was not his own. As if he resurfacing from the strongest nightmare, he felt really awake for the first time since…Lothlórien it seemed. His eyes could stare into the beauty of the hall, and the scenery beyond the windows. He could see, he could hear, he felt like himself…
There was something wrong then…there just had to be…
"It shall be so," said Théoden, startling him. "Let the heralds announce to the folk that the Lady Éowyn will lead them!"
And once said so, Lady Éowyn was handed a sword and named as the Lady of the house, until the king's return…or the new king's return. She took it to the doors with her, when the company followed the king, to leave the castle on their way to the East.
Aragorn looked back as they passed towards the gate. Alone Éowyn stood before the doors of the house at the stair's head; the sword was set upright before her, and her hands were laid upon the hilt. She was clad now in mail and shone like silver in the sun. To Legolas, she seemed like some Elven Queen of old, ready for battle. Perhaps, more ready for the upcoming battle than most of them.
Gimli, having noticed the change in the elf, now walked with Legolas, testing his observations while walking with his axe on his shoulder. "Well, at last we set off!" he said. "Men need many words before deeds. My axe is restless in my hands. Though I doubt not that these Rohirrim are fell-handed when they come to it. Nonetheless this is not the warfare that suits me. How shall I come to the battle? I wish I could walk and not bump like a sack at Gandalf's saddlebow."
Legolas turned his face towards his friend, and Gimli saw for himself that the now familiar fog in cerulean eyes was gone. "A safer seat than many, I guess," said Legolas. "Yet doubtless Gandalf will gladly put you down on your feet when blows begin; or Shadowfax himself. An axe is no weapon for a rider."
The elven voice was calm, and held the smallest hint of amusement in it, while he looked at his friend for a reaction. Gimli was surprised to find that without this…sort of façade Legolas had always shown him, he seemed…different…much younger, to start.
"And a Dwarf is no horseman. It is orc-necks I would hew, not shave the scalps of Men," said Gimli, patting the haft of his axe, stealing a glance at the elf. Yes, he seemed younger, and much less protected that he had before. He seemed much less…Legolas.
At the gate they found a great host of men, old and young, all ready in the saddle. More than a thousand were there mustered. Their spears were like a springing wood. Loudly and joyously they shouted as Théoden came forth. Some held in readiness the king's horse, Snowmane, and others held the horses of Aragorn and Legolas.
Legolas noticed sadly that there were many young boys between the men, who seemed to have left their houses ready for battle no more than an hour or so ago. Éomer stood beside Gimli now, speaking with the dwarf and trying to make peace. Legolas turned away from the conversation as he neared his horse. The animal seemed glad to see him, and gently nuzzled his neck. He smiled sadly at the mane, patting the strong body gently. The horse suddenly was staring at him, and he almost laughed. Even this sweet horse could see something was wrong.
'Sîdh, mellon nîn' (Peace, my friend) He whispered gently and the horse nuzzled his neck again in response.
When finally reaching an agreement with Éomer, Gimli noticed Legolas' sad gaze as he caressed the four-footed nightmare that he called a horse…maybe not so bad, but the horse was no place for a dwarf…
"I thank you indeed," said Gimli to Éomer, greatly pleased. "I will gladly go with you, if Legolas, my comrade, may ride beside us."
"It shall he so," answered Éomer. "Legolas upon my left, and Aragorn upon my right, and none will dare to stand before us!"
The elf looked up at the mention of his name, and focusing on the words that had been said, he nodded, almost to himself. "Very well, my friends" His voice whispered, but none heard him. He mounted his gentle horse swiftly, moving to the left of Éomer's horse, where Gimli was riding, as he had heard that he should do.
"Behold the White Rider!" cried Aragorn, startling Legolas, and all took up the words.
"Our King and the White Rider!" they shouted. "Forth Eorlingas!"
The trumpets sounded. The horses reared and neighed. Spear clashed on shield. Then the king raised his hand, and with a rush like the sudden onset of a great wind the last host of Rohan rode thundering into the West.
{You should have been left behind}
{You are no warrior}
{Shell of an elf}
{Useless}
{Weak}
{You shall die}
{You shall kill them all}
{You shall slaughter innocent men}
{You will be the doom of all who ride with you}
Far over the plain Éowyn saw the glitter of their spears, as she stood still, alone before the doors of the silent house. Her keen eyes focused on the fading figures, before she looked to the sky and hoped for strength.
Strength for the men, for the young, for the heir to Gondor, for her own king, for herself…and for the elf that she knew, would probably die in battle. To her gaze, he had seemed to be dying all ready.
****
The host rode on. Need drove them. Fearing to come too late, they rode with all the speed they could, pausing seldom. Swift and enduring were the steeds of Rohan, but there were many leagues to go. Forty leagues and more it was, as a bird flies, from Edoras to the fords of the Isen, where they hoped to find the king's men that held back the hosts of Saruman.
Night closed about them. At last they halted to make their camp. Wearily the men mounted down their horses, in a great circle, under the starry sky and the waxing moon, they now made their bivouac. They lit no fires, for they were uncertain of events; but they set a ring of mounted guards about them, and scouts rode out far ahead, passing like shadows in the folds of the land. It was quiet all around; just a few whispers between comrades could be detected.
Legolas looked to his right when he jumped off Arod, and saw one of the youngest of the company looking sadly towards the dark sky. Silent steps took the elf next to the boy who looked no older than fifteen winters. Focusing dimmed senses on the silent figure he noticed the air of complete loneliness that the kid seemed to radiate, and the Prince just knew that someone close to this soul had been lost to the unknown fate that waits for mortals once they go beyond the body. Making sure the boy noticed his presence; he stood beside him for a moment.
"Eru gave your kind a gift that no elf will receive, young one, do not believe it to be a curse. Whoever is gone, will be with you once again… if that is to be" the melodic voice of the elf traveled in the silence, and some men turned their heads towards the conversation.
The boy turned shocked eyes to the elf standing next to him, and after a few tries, his voice finally whispered. "How did you…do you…how?"
{A dead one, can sense death}
A sad smile gazed the immortal lips. "I saw you" he whispered "looking at the stars…a sign of hope, are they not?"
The boy nodded silently, and turned his gaze back to the sky. "You believe him to be all right?"
{Better than here}
"'Tis a gift, young one, a gift many of my kind hope for, and shall never know"
{And should know}
The kid's eyes turned to look at the elf, but Legolas was gone to tend to his horse. With a small smile the kid nodded to himself, and with a last gaze to the stars his father had loved, he went to rest for the night.
Legolas lay down on the hard ground, after making sure that Arod was all right, and focused his own gaze on the sky. The stars blinked back at him from their dark home. He felt someone lay down next to him, and turned to look at the new arrival. Aragorn sat on the ground, looking at him with a small smile on his lips.
"That was very noble of you, my friend" the man whispered, "How you knew that, I know not, but you did exactly what that young man needed"
Legolas looked back towards the sky, and answered after a moment of silence "It is a gift, Aragorn" he spoke softly, without glancing at the ranger "Indeed…one that should not be given to those who still have ties to this lands. What that young one needs, 'tis the one he lost…so many important mortals gone, Aragorn…and too many immortal ones, that should leave the land"
{Nay, 'tis just me who should leave the land}
{You should have left it long ago, and many of the mortal ones would still be among this earth}
{I cannot leave it}
{Aye, you can}
{I am immortal…I would still live}
{Do you wish to leave the land?}
{With each passing instant…}
{Let me help you, my princeling}
Grey eyes studied the face of his elven friend with worry, and the unguarded features caught him by surprise. Never had he seen the Prince like this: his face alive with emotion, and his blue eyes…dead.
"Legolas" He whispered, and the dying gaze regarded him "Is this really you?"
{You can help me?}
{Aye}
A small smile crossed the lips of the elf, and the penetrating blue eyes burned deep into Aragorn's grey ones. "Is it not horrible, when your true face is the unrecognizable mask?"
Aragorn closed his eyes briefly, and he placed a hand on the slim shoulder of the archer. "You shall beat this, Legolas, you are strong…'tis the shadow…"
Silence answered the ranger, and he noticed the small tears that wanted to escape Legolas' eyes as he turned his face away from him. The elf shook his head wordlessly, and his eyes went unfocused in sleep. The slow night passed without tidings or alarm. At dawn the horns sounded, and within an hour they took the road again.
To be continued.
R&R please…just in case, my mail 'tis fox_angel18@hotmail.com