Disclaimer: *Rolls on the floor laughing* …so…no, not mine…
Author Notes: Last I saw, I had reached 280 reviews, and I have no words to thank you all, but I shall find them by my final author note, when all of you who supported me through the chapters will get my personal thank you. Please, if you can, continue to review this story and make the writings of the last 4 (or so) chapters easier and hopefully faster. My gold was to end this by my birthday, but I couldn't manage thanks to the horrible Real Life…
IMPORTANT NOTE: This chapter will probably be the last update in a considerable amount of time, since after this, I found myself officially stuck! I'll try and work my best to get the next chapter up soon, but I guarantee nothing. I tried to have something of the next chapter written by the time I posted this, but it soon became obvious that I would keep you waiting for too long if I did.
Also, in my hurry, I really had no time to double check this chapter for mistakes, so it must have a couple of extra ones…
A big thank you goes out to my newfound Beta who will start helping me to fix this whole thing soon! I will post the final and grammar-checked version of this story along with the last chapter of the aforementioned.
Enjoy!
Master in Deceiving
By Yours Truly
On this day, as the Grey Company kept on moving towards Edoras, Legolas seemed to have regained some shred of control. He was tranquil and focused upon the task at hand, unwilling to allow feeling to rule over his actions. Yet, as time moved forward, it was becoming extremely difficult to pretend everything was fine, and the exaggerated calm he irradiated at these times of war managed to be anything but convincing…most of all to the one whose eyes had never left the Elf and the source of the Prince's current predicament.
Aragorn.
Aragorn, Son of Arathorn, who had been watching over Legolas like a hawk, with eyes filled with concern and some twisted sense of understanding that Legolas loathed to see.
{He cannot understand}
What added to the burden the Elf carried, was the voice again. Not attacking him this time, not confusing him further, but doing something that frightened the Elf to the very core, more than anything else he had so far faced.
The voice now sounded…pleased…
And the fact Legolas himself now found calm in this new turn of events was the hardest part of all. He hated himself for the knowledge that every event was intertwined, that every burden was the chain reaction that had begun for one reason only. Had begun for his own weakness. And with every breath he took and every step he moved this knowledge was enough to overwhelm whatever strength he tried to cling onto.
Whatever the consequences of this, the voice was pleased, and although pained, Legolas was composed…and angry…increasingly angry.
Angry at the voice for being a hidden part of himself he had never wanted to meet, angry at himself for being weak enough to let this happen, angry at his friends for they still didn't know what ailed and hence they could not help him, angry at himself again, for not being able to tell them of this…
Angry most of all, at Aragorn for giving him an overprotection that was not what he needed, that was only aggravating him…angry at Aragorn for…for…
{For dragging you into this, Princeling?}
{Nay…}
{For him being the real cause behind all of this? Because these are Aragorn's lands and this is Aragorn's war? Because you're in the middle of all that is painful?}
{Nay…}
{Admit you need someone to blame}
{I never denied it}
{Then deny my allegations no further! For you know them to be true, do you not little one? You need someone, something that is not yourself to blame for all this pain?}
{I deny nothing, then}
{Then you finally do what's right, little one…you are finally seeing reason}
{Am I?}
{Aye, you are…you see what is true now…you shall soon feel as you should, as well}
The Grey Company continued with its course, not halting for the confusion lurking beneath the blue orbs of the only elf in the group, riding on for a day and more until they reached Edoras. Soft lips gone dry curved into the ghost of a sad smile as they descended upon they one they found in the Palace, for there stood Éowyn, Lady of the Mark, graced by great beauty and courage, whose gaze found its delight upon the Ranger; Aragorn son of Arathorn engaged to Evening Star of the Elves.
When Legolas was sure he should feel sorrow for the Lady, he found her misplaced interest strangely amusing. Her heart was where it did not belong, and the ghost of her own hope was inviting her to approach the man she desired. But Hope…Estel…did not really call for her, even as her eyes betrayed her heart's desire and told the entire world where her interest lay. Even as Aragorn told her of Helm's Deep and a secret flame shone in her eyes, and Legolas could not bring himself to feel anything but…pleasure…at the sight
{I am impressed, Princeling}
{You are?}
Legolas' silent steps carried him away from the meal, after thanking the Lady Éowyn with a forced smile, accompanied by the loud ones of Gimli the dwarf who walked next to him. Refusing his friend's offer to go along with him on a short walk, Legolas then bid his friend goodbye and turned to walk towards his accommodations for the night. He was surprised then, when a rough hand grabbed his wrist.
{Do not touch me!}
"What is it, Master Dwarf?"
Cool eyes regarded him, and were not for the flash of…something…in the pools of blue, Gimli would have reconsidered what he was about to say.
"I find my mind troubled, my friend" The dwarf said, looking straight to the eyes of the Elf "I find no comfort in the knowledge you are riding to war with us"
Fury blazed in Legolas' eyes as he ripped his hand away from the grasp of Gimli, who stood amazed at the amount of feeling those eyes now held. Turning his back on his friend, Legolas took a step towards his room without a word, and desperate for some kind of reassurance, Gimli hurried to stop the Elf taking a step forward of his own and placing a hand on the lithe shoulders.
{Don't you dare touch me…}
The gesture proved to be a mistake.
Legolas' body tensed at the contact, and before Gimli could react, the Elf did. Fast as lightening Legolas' right arm went behind his back and took a bruising hold of Gimli's limb, the rest of the slim body whirling around with a speed that dazzled the Dwarf. His left arm joining the right in the hold on Gimli's extremity, Legolas used his strong grasp to yank the Dwarf to collide hard against the harsh stonewall of the hall they stood on. The surprised yelp of his friend and loud sound of the armor Gimli wore hitting against stone didn't disturb the Elf as the nimble being let go of the arm and went to grab the stout shoulders, turning his friend around so he was left facing Legolas.
It took a few moments for his eyes to focus, but when they did, Gimli still wasn't sure whom he was facing.
Legolas eyes danced with fury and his breathing was labored with the effort of holding it back. To Gimli, that effort was still not enough. Legolas' body was pressed against his own, crushing him to the wall and a pale hand found the neck of the dwarf, turning into a fist and pushing against his windpipe.
"Do. Not. Touch. Me" Legolas hissed out, his face…frighteningly controlled. A mild flush of his cheeks the only thing betraying his feelings.
Gasps for air escaped Gimli's lips and the pressure just increased.
"Unfortunately for you all…I am going to War…and I am going with you"
Black spots danced in front of Gimli's eyes before the Elf relented, letting go and stepping back, his body loosing its tense demeanor. Walking away towards his room through the dark hallway, leaving behind his friend kneeling on the floor and gasping for much needed oxygen, Legolas' last words drifted to Gimli's ears just before the Elf turned the corner.
"Do not make me show you again that I am a capable warrior, Gimli" Legolas said softly, stopping for a moment on his walk, never turning back "The next time, I might give you a full demonstration of a battle"
His silent steps carrying him away, the only sounds left on the hallway were those of Gimli's labored breathing.
****
{What did I do?}
{He thought you weak}
{Well, I proved him wrong…}
{Aye that you did} The voice laughed
It *Laughed*
It was frightening…and strangely reassuring.
{How will I explain my actions later?} Legolas wondered as he entered the lodge, remembering suddenly that to his annoyance, he was to share this space with Gimli and Aragorn.
{To whom must you explain them? You know why you did it, do you not?}
{Aye, of course I do, he touched me and accused me of being incapable of handling myself…}
{Then that is enough. You answer to yourself only, little one, not even your Father has a right to question anything from you…and not even your Father is here}
Nodding to the logic of his thoughts, he lay down on his blankets and slept.
Facing away from the window and the stars it showed and with his eyes closed. He didn't wake when Gimli entered, staring at him as though he were a stranger and neither did he wake when Aragorn entered and was told the story of what had transpired…not even with the argument that ensued…
And he didn't wake when Aragorn stared at him sadly, his eyes resting upon Legolas' calm face well into the night.
****
When the light of day was come into the sky but the sun was not yet risen above the high ridges in the East, Aragorn made ready to depart. His company was all mounted, and he was about to leap into the saddle, when the Lady Éowyn came to bid them farewell.
Legolas observed coldly as she wept, the picture more grievous in one so proud, yet his heart offered her no comfort. His heart hardly offered anything.
That morning he had awoken to find Gimli staring at him, Aragorn long gone to attend his various duties. He had risen from his blankets, folded them carefully, and pulling his face into a repentant expression, he turned to face the dwarf. Walking closer and looking straight into his eyes he had apologized and Gimli had nodded briskly, apparently looking for something he did not find in Legolas' gaze. Whatever he did not find seemed to please Gimli and although the silence between them was still tense, the distrust evaporated slowly from the dwarf's eyes.
Legolas could live with the silence. Preferred it in fact. And he content with the fact Gimli had requested of him no explanations, and had required no further apology. There was only so much Legolas could pretend, after all.
When Aragorn denied the Lady's request, and turned away her begs, he jumped onto the saddle, greatly troubled and rode away. Legolas went on Arod after him, sparing no further glance to Éowyn, and ignoring Gimli's yelp and the tighter hold he had placed on Legolas at the horse's sudden movement.
The light was still grey as they rode, for the sun had not yet climbed over the black ridges of the Haunted Mountain before them. Legolas could see the great distress of the humans as they passed ancient rock walls, and had to admit to being slightly disturbed himself when they reached the shadow of black trees. A suffocating shadow that surrounded them, as the trees cried out in a pain that managed to move the Elf's unnaturally cold heart. Beneath this shadow, the company found a hollow place opening at the mountain's root, and right in their path stood a single mighty stone like a finger of doom.
"My blood runs chill," said Gimli, his voice breaking the silence like a shout. Legolas looked around him to the faces of all his gaze could reach, and found cold fear reflected back at him. He could sympathize with none, though, for his heart was only touched by the mournful and painful song of the trees that wept for the suffocating darkness around them. The voice of Dwarf went unanswered, as the men looked around the place, lacking the words to express their state of mind.
The horses would not pass the threatening stone, until the riders dismounted and led them about. Legolas did so with Arod, offering a hand for Gimli to dismount. The dwarf accepted it warily, and Legolas had to struggle to hide his small smile from the stout being. And so they came at last deep into the glen; and there stood a sheer wall of rock, and in the wall the Dark Door gaped before them like the mouth of night. Signs and figures were carved above its wide arch too dim to read, and fear flowed from it like a grey vapour.
The company halted there, and Legolas could feel the terror eradiating from the humans around him. The ghost of men did not scare him; indeed they were nothing but thin air in his eyes. Memories of what was and was lost, tortured enough to leave an imprint upon the land.
At least Aragorn went in, and the riders reluctantly followed, leading the terrified horses with them. Only the animal's love for their riders drove them to face the terror of the door, and Legolas soon had to struggle with this himself when Arod, the horse of Rohan, refused the way, and he stood sweating and trembling in a fear that was grievous to see.
Sighing sadly for having to force the horse into anything, Legolas laid his hand over the horse's eyes and begun to sing a melody that went soft in the gloom, until the horse suffered himself to be led. Knowing Gimli was behind him, and having seen the fear in his stance, Legolas found himself smiling as he passed in. And there stood Gimli the Dwarf left all alone.
{He didn't think you worthy, little one} The voice laughed {but look at him}
Soon hearing the heavy steps behind him, hurrying to catch up with Elladan who carried a torch at the rear, Legolas forgot about him and focused on the whispering that could now be heard. They had no tongue and their voices carried a unique quality that seemed to unsettle them all. Legolas just murmured softly a blessing in his own tongue. Maybe he could not understand their words, but he could understand their pain. His bright blue eyes glittered in the gloom when he turned to look back and saw their shapes following them. He felt strangely comforted when some of the whispers lost a little of its despair.
When he saw gold reflect the light of the torches the company carried, he turned his eyes in that direction as Aragorn went to investigate, Elladan not far behind. He even saw Gimli approach them.
{Probably for the torches' light} Legolas thought with a small smile that no one saw. He heard the voice laughing.
Without wanting to distance himself from Arod, Legolas just looked from a distance, knowing already what lay there because the light had reached the form of the bones that were once a mighty man with belts of gold and garnets and a helmet rich with gold.
It was then that Aragorn's voice broke the silence.
"For that is not my errand!" the man cried, completing some early murmuring that Legolas had not been able to catch, turning back and speaking to the whispering darkness behind. "Keep your hoards and your secrets hidden in the Accursed Years! Speed only we ask. Let us pass, and then come! I summon you to the Stone of Erech!"
There was no answer to Aragorn's voice, unless it were an utter silence more dreadful than the whispers before; and then a chill blast came in which the torches flickered and went out, and could not be rekindled.
Legolas murmured words of comfort to his horse, even as he smiled. Kept murmuring even as he had to suppress his laughter in fear of alerting the others of his strange amusement. He did not know why but this darkness did not frighten him or bothered him in any way. He felt good here, and his spirits were high. He didn't know why, but the voice seemed so content here as well. He almost regretted he had to leave…
{Why do I feel like this?}
{Perhaps you feel good among other tortured souls, little one}
{Perhaps}
Legolas nodded to himself, as he walked forward. An hour or more, he didn't know, wasn't paying attention as he advanced. Whispers started slowly again only to go quiet again. Legolas could almost hear the step of the large mass of…what…people…? Ghosts…that followed them…that followed Aragorn.
{Aragorn of course…who else would they follow?}
{Does that anger you little one?}
{Aragorn angers me}
{Has he done anything today to gain that anger?}
{Look upon me with distrust, he has, he has done it all day}
{I see then…do you hate him now?}
{I hate what he is doing}
{Do you blame him?}
{I have admitted it to be so}
{Do you hate yourself?}
{That has never been a question}
{All right, little one…all right…}
After hours of tireless walking they were out of the dark, guided by the sound of water that had reached his ears while still inside that place. Passing through another gate, this one less frightening, to be out into a place he did not recognize. His horse was relieved to be outside once more, and Legolas was thanked for his actions by the beast when it nuzzled Legolas chest gently. Legolas patted the animal tenderly as Gimli approached him to ride.
The Company now mounted again. They rode in file, and evening came on and a deep blue dusk; and still fear pursued the men. Legolas turned to speak to Gimli, instead looking back and the Dwarf saw before his face the glitter in the Elf's bright eyes. A different emotion than the anger he had witnessed last night lay in those blue depths; there was now…excitement? Shining proudly with no haze to cover it. Gimli wondered about what he saw in his friend.
Behind them rode Elladan, last of the Company, but not the last of those that took the downward road.
"The Dead are following," said Legolas, starling Gimli with the clear sound of his voice. "I see shapes of Men and of horses, and pale banners like shreds of cloud, and spears like winter-thickets on a misty night. The Dead are following."
"Yes, the Dead ride behind. They have been summoned," said Elladan, looking at the younger Prince with careful eyes, as if he had noticed something amiss. Perhaps he had…Legolas' voice was light and calm, not at all like any other of the company could sound like at this moment in time. Legolas just smiled at the other elf's inquisitive gaze and turned back to look ahead.
He barely listened as Elladan explained to Gimli they were now in the place men called 'Blackroot' as he focused instead in what he saw ahead.
The Morthond Vale made a great bay that beat up against the sheer southern faces of the mountains. Its steep slopes were grass-grown; but all was grey in that hour, for the sun had gone, and far below lights twinkled in the homes of Men. The vale was rich and many folk dwelt there.
Suddenly, without turning, Aragorn cried aloud so that all could hear: "Friends, forget your weariness! Ride now, ride! We must come to the Stone of Erech ere this day passes, and long still is the way."
It was with a smile that Legolas urged his horse onwards, going faster and faster, enjoying the pace as with it, they seemed to fly over the fields. As they passed, doors closed and windows slammed shut, the cries of the people loud on his ears.
"The King of the Dead! The King of the Dead is come upon us!"
Legolas laughed when he heard the shouts, ignoring Gimli's query at his behavior. He had felt like he should laugh. 'The King of the Dead', Aragorn was for them, and he was seen here as a part of a Dead army. To his eyes the title held honor, and where this thought came from he did not know.
{Does that even make sense? Proud of being counted as a part of this army of dead and haunted souls?}
{It does seem appropriate do you not think so?}
He went even faster, urging Arod to the poor beast's limit, forcing Gimli to cling onto him tightly in order to prevent the dwarf's deathly fall. Without turning, he could visualize Gimli's wide eyes and panicked expression at the speed they were going at, and the thought brought another laugh out of him.
Something strange was happening with him, and he felt it coming. But he didn't see why should he even try to stop it now…it felt…well…it made him feel alive…
{And it shall feel better, little one…soon…}
To be continued
Author Notes: Last I saw, I had reached 280 reviews, and I have no words to thank you all, but I shall find them by my final author note, when all of you who supported me through the chapters will get my personal thank you. Please, if you can, continue to review this story and make the writings of the last 4 (or so) chapters easier and hopefully faster. My gold was to end this by my birthday, but I couldn't manage thanks to the horrible Real Life…
IMPORTANT NOTE: This chapter will probably be the last update in a considerable amount of time, since after this, I found myself officially stuck! I'll try and work my best to get the next chapter up soon, but I guarantee nothing. I tried to have something of the next chapter written by the time I posted this, but it soon became obvious that I would keep you waiting for too long if I did.
Also, in my hurry, I really had no time to double check this chapter for mistakes, so it must have a couple of extra ones…
A big thank you goes out to my newfound Beta who will start helping me to fix this whole thing soon! I will post the final and grammar-checked version of this story along with the last chapter of the aforementioned.
Enjoy!
Master in Deceiving
By Yours Truly
On this day, as the Grey Company kept on moving towards Edoras, Legolas seemed to have regained some shred of control. He was tranquil and focused upon the task at hand, unwilling to allow feeling to rule over his actions. Yet, as time moved forward, it was becoming extremely difficult to pretend everything was fine, and the exaggerated calm he irradiated at these times of war managed to be anything but convincing…most of all to the one whose eyes had never left the Elf and the source of the Prince's current predicament.
Aragorn.
Aragorn, Son of Arathorn, who had been watching over Legolas like a hawk, with eyes filled with concern and some twisted sense of understanding that Legolas loathed to see.
{He cannot understand}
What added to the burden the Elf carried, was the voice again. Not attacking him this time, not confusing him further, but doing something that frightened the Elf to the very core, more than anything else he had so far faced.
The voice now sounded…pleased…
And the fact Legolas himself now found calm in this new turn of events was the hardest part of all. He hated himself for the knowledge that every event was intertwined, that every burden was the chain reaction that had begun for one reason only. Had begun for his own weakness. And with every breath he took and every step he moved this knowledge was enough to overwhelm whatever strength he tried to cling onto.
Whatever the consequences of this, the voice was pleased, and although pained, Legolas was composed…and angry…increasingly angry.
Angry at the voice for being a hidden part of himself he had never wanted to meet, angry at himself for being weak enough to let this happen, angry at his friends for they still didn't know what ailed and hence they could not help him, angry at himself again, for not being able to tell them of this…
Angry most of all, at Aragorn for giving him an overprotection that was not what he needed, that was only aggravating him…angry at Aragorn for…for…
{For dragging you into this, Princeling?}
{Nay…}
{For him being the real cause behind all of this? Because these are Aragorn's lands and this is Aragorn's war? Because you're in the middle of all that is painful?}
{Nay…}
{Admit you need someone to blame}
{I never denied it}
{Then deny my allegations no further! For you know them to be true, do you not little one? You need someone, something that is not yourself to blame for all this pain?}
{I deny nothing, then}
{Then you finally do what's right, little one…you are finally seeing reason}
{Am I?}
{Aye, you are…you see what is true now…you shall soon feel as you should, as well}
The Grey Company continued with its course, not halting for the confusion lurking beneath the blue orbs of the only elf in the group, riding on for a day and more until they reached Edoras. Soft lips gone dry curved into the ghost of a sad smile as they descended upon they one they found in the Palace, for there stood Éowyn, Lady of the Mark, graced by great beauty and courage, whose gaze found its delight upon the Ranger; Aragorn son of Arathorn engaged to Evening Star of the Elves.
When Legolas was sure he should feel sorrow for the Lady, he found her misplaced interest strangely amusing. Her heart was where it did not belong, and the ghost of her own hope was inviting her to approach the man she desired. But Hope…Estel…did not really call for her, even as her eyes betrayed her heart's desire and told the entire world where her interest lay. Even as Aragorn told her of Helm's Deep and a secret flame shone in her eyes, and Legolas could not bring himself to feel anything but…pleasure…at the sight
{I am impressed, Princeling}
{You are?}
Legolas' silent steps carried him away from the meal, after thanking the Lady Éowyn with a forced smile, accompanied by the loud ones of Gimli the dwarf who walked next to him. Refusing his friend's offer to go along with him on a short walk, Legolas then bid his friend goodbye and turned to walk towards his accommodations for the night. He was surprised then, when a rough hand grabbed his wrist.
{Do not touch me!}
"What is it, Master Dwarf?"
Cool eyes regarded him, and were not for the flash of…something…in the pools of blue, Gimli would have reconsidered what he was about to say.
"I find my mind troubled, my friend" The dwarf said, looking straight to the eyes of the Elf "I find no comfort in the knowledge you are riding to war with us"
Fury blazed in Legolas' eyes as he ripped his hand away from the grasp of Gimli, who stood amazed at the amount of feeling those eyes now held. Turning his back on his friend, Legolas took a step towards his room without a word, and desperate for some kind of reassurance, Gimli hurried to stop the Elf taking a step forward of his own and placing a hand on the lithe shoulders.
{Don't you dare touch me…}
The gesture proved to be a mistake.
Legolas' body tensed at the contact, and before Gimli could react, the Elf did. Fast as lightening Legolas' right arm went behind his back and took a bruising hold of Gimli's limb, the rest of the slim body whirling around with a speed that dazzled the Dwarf. His left arm joining the right in the hold on Gimli's extremity, Legolas used his strong grasp to yank the Dwarf to collide hard against the harsh stonewall of the hall they stood on. The surprised yelp of his friend and loud sound of the armor Gimli wore hitting against stone didn't disturb the Elf as the nimble being let go of the arm and went to grab the stout shoulders, turning his friend around so he was left facing Legolas.
It took a few moments for his eyes to focus, but when they did, Gimli still wasn't sure whom he was facing.
Legolas eyes danced with fury and his breathing was labored with the effort of holding it back. To Gimli, that effort was still not enough. Legolas' body was pressed against his own, crushing him to the wall and a pale hand found the neck of the dwarf, turning into a fist and pushing against his windpipe.
"Do. Not. Touch. Me" Legolas hissed out, his face…frighteningly controlled. A mild flush of his cheeks the only thing betraying his feelings.
Gasps for air escaped Gimli's lips and the pressure just increased.
"Unfortunately for you all…I am going to War…and I am going with you"
Black spots danced in front of Gimli's eyes before the Elf relented, letting go and stepping back, his body loosing its tense demeanor. Walking away towards his room through the dark hallway, leaving behind his friend kneeling on the floor and gasping for much needed oxygen, Legolas' last words drifted to Gimli's ears just before the Elf turned the corner.
"Do not make me show you again that I am a capable warrior, Gimli" Legolas said softly, stopping for a moment on his walk, never turning back "The next time, I might give you a full demonstration of a battle"
His silent steps carrying him away, the only sounds left on the hallway were those of Gimli's labored breathing.
****
{What did I do?}
{He thought you weak}
{Well, I proved him wrong…}
{Aye that you did} The voice laughed
It *Laughed*
It was frightening…and strangely reassuring.
{How will I explain my actions later?} Legolas wondered as he entered the lodge, remembering suddenly that to his annoyance, he was to share this space with Gimli and Aragorn.
{To whom must you explain them? You know why you did it, do you not?}
{Aye, of course I do, he touched me and accused me of being incapable of handling myself…}
{Then that is enough. You answer to yourself only, little one, not even your Father has a right to question anything from you…and not even your Father is here}
Nodding to the logic of his thoughts, he lay down on his blankets and slept.
Facing away from the window and the stars it showed and with his eyes closed. He didn't wake when Gimli entered, staring at him as though he were a stranger and neither did he wake when Aragorn entered and was told the story of what had transpired…not even with the argument that ensued…
And he didn't wake when Aragorn stared at him sadly, his eyes resting upon Legolas' calm face well into the night.
****
When the light of day was come into the sky but the sun was not yet risen above the high ridges in the East, Aragorn made ready to depart. His company was all mounted, and he was about to leap into the saddle, when the Lady Éowyn came to bid them farewell.
Legolas observed coldly as she wept, the picture more grievous in one so proud, yet his heart offered her no comfort. His heart hardly offered anything.
That morning he had awoken to find Gimli staring at him, Aragorn long gone to attend his various duties. He had risen from his blankets, folded them carefully, and pulling his face into a repentant expression, he turned to face the dwarf. Walking closer and looking straight into his eyes he had apologized and Gimli had nodded briskly, apparently looking for something he did not find in Legolas' gaze. Whatever he did not find seemed to please Gimli and although the silence between them was still tense, the distrust evaporated slowly from the dwarf's eyes.
Legolas could live with the silence. Preferred it in fact. And he content with the fact Gimli had requested of him no explanations, and had required no further apology. There was only so much Legolas could pretend, after all.
When Aragorn denied the Lady's request, and turned away her begs, he jumped onto the saddle, greatly troubled and rode away. Legolas went on Arod after him, sparing no further glance to Éowyn, and ignoring Gimli's yelp and the tighter hold he had placed on Legolas at the horse's sudden movement.
The light was still grey as they rode, for the sun had not yet climbed over the black ridges of the Haunted Mountain before them. Legolas could see the great distress of the humans as they passed ancient rock walls, and had to admit to being slightly disturbed himself when they reached the shadow of black trees. A suffocating shadow that surrounded them, as the trees cried out in a pain that managed to move the Elf's unnaturally cold heart. Beneath this shadow, the company found a hollow place opening at the mountain's root, and right in their path stood a single mighty stone like a finger of doom.
"My blood runs chill," said Gimli, his voice breaking the silence like a shout. Legolas looked around him to the faces of all his gaze could reach, and found cold fear reflected back at him. He could sympathize with none, though, for his heart was only touched by the mournful and painful song of the trees that wept for the suffocating darkness around them. The voice of Dwarf went unanswered, as the men looked around the place, lacking the words to express their state of mind.
The horses would not pass the threatening stone, until the riders dismounted and led them about. Legolas did so with Arod, offering a hand for Gimli to dismount. The dwarf accepted it warily, and Legolas had to struggle to hide his small smile from the stout being. And so they came at last deep into the glen; and there stood a sheer wall of rock, and in the wall the Dark Door gaped before them like the mouth of night. Signs and figures were carved above its wide arch too dim to read, and fear flowed from it like a grey vapour.
The company halted there, and Legolas could feel the terror eradiating from the humans around him. The ghost of men did not scare him; indeed they were nothing but thin air in his eyes. Memories of what was and was lost, tortured enough to leave an imprint upon the land.
At least Aragorn went in, and the riders reluctantly followed, leading the terrified horses with them. Only the animal's love for their riders drove them to face the terror of the door, and Legolas soon had to struggle with this himself when Arod, the horse of Rohan, refused the way, and he stood sweating and trembling in a fear that was grievous to see.
Sighing sadly for having to force the horse into anything, Legolas laid his hand over the horse's eyes and begun to sing a melody that went soft in the gloom, until the horse suffered himself to be led. Knowing Gimli was behind him, and having seen the fear in his stance, Legolas found himself smiling as he passed in. And there stood Gimli the Dwarf left all alone.
{He didn't think you worthy, little one} The voice laughed {but look at him}
Soon hearing the heavy steps behind him, hurrying to catch up with Elladan who carried a torch at the rear, Legolas forgot about him and focused on the whispering that could now be heard. They had no tongue and their voices carried a unique quality that seemed to unsettle them all. Legolas just murmured softly a blessing in his own tongue. Maybe he could not understand their words, but he could understand their pain. His bright blue eyes glittered in the gloom when he turned to look back and saw their shapes following them. He felt strangely comforted when some of the whispers lost a little of its despair.
When he saw gold reflect the light of the torches the company carried, he turned his eyes in that direction as Aragorn went to investigate, Elladan not far behind. He even saw Gimli approach them.
{Probably for the torches' light} Legolas thought with a small smile that no one saw. He heard the voice laughing.
Without wanting to distance himself from Arod, Legolas just looked from a distance, knowing already what lay there because the light had reached the form of the bones that were once a mighty man with belts of gold and garnets and a helmet rich with gold.
It was then that Aragorn's voice broke the silence.
"For that is not my errand!" the man cried, completing some early murmuring that Legolas had not been able to catch, turning back and speaking to the whispering darkness behind. "Keep your hoards and your secrets hidden in the Accursed Years! Speed only we ask. Let us pass, and then come! I summon you to the Stone of Erech!"
There was no answer to Aragorn's voice, unless it were an utter silence more dreadful than the whispers before; and then a chill blast came in which the torches flickered and went out, and could not be rekindled.
Legolas murmured words of comfort to his horse, even as he smiled. Kept murmuring even as he had to suppress his laughter in fear of alerting the others of his strange amusement. He did not know why but this darkness did not frighten him or bothered him in any way. He felt good here, and his spirits were high. He didn't know why, but the voice seemed so content here as well. He almost regretted he had to leave…
{Why do I feel like this?}
{Perhaps you feel good among other tortured souls, little one}
{Perhaps}
Legolas nodded to himself, as he walked forward. An hour or more, he didn't know, wasn't paying attention as he advanced. Whispers started slowly again only to go quiet again. Legolas could almost hear the step of the large mass of…what…people…? Ghosts…that followed them…that followed Aragorn.
{Aragorn of course…who else would they follow?}
{Does that anger you little one?}
{Aragorn angers me}
{Has he done anything today to gain that anger?}
{Look upon me with distrust, he has, he has done it all day}
{I see then…do you hate him now?}
{I hate what he is doing}
{Do you blame him?}
{I have admitted it to be so}
{Do you hate yourself?}
{That has never been a question}
{All right, little one…all right…}
After hours of tireless walking they were out of the dark, guided by the sound of water that had reached his ears while still inside that place. Passing through another gate, this one less frightening, to be out into a place he did not recognize. His horse was relieved to be outside once more, and Legolas was thanked for his actions by the beast when it nuzzled Legolas chest gently. Legolas patted the animal tenderly as Gimli approached him to ride.
The Company now mounted again. They rode in file, and evening came on and a deep blue dusk; and still fear pursued the men. Legolas turned to speak to Gimli, instead looking back and the Dwarf saw before his face the glitter in the Elf's bright eyes. A different emotion than the anger he had witnessed last night lay in those blue depths; there was now…excitement? Shining proudly with no haze to cover it. Gimli wondered about what he saw in his friend.
Behind them rode Elladan, last of the Company, but not the last of those that took the downward road.
"The Dead are following," said Legolas, starling Gimli with the clear sound of his voice. "I see shapes of Men and of horses, and pale banners like shreds of cloud, and spears like winter-thickets on a misty night. The Dead are following."
"Yes, the Dead ride behind. They have been summoned," said Elladan, looking at the younger Prince with careful eyes, as if he had noticed something amiss. Perhaps he had…Legolas' voice was light and calm, not at all like any other of the company could sound like at this moment in time. Legolas just smiled at the other elf's inquisitive gaze and turned back to look ahead.
He barely listened as Elladan explained to Gimli they were now in the place men called 'Blackroot' as he focused instead in what he saw ahead.
The Morthond Vale made a great bay that beat up against the sheer southern faces of the mountains. Its steep slopes were grass-grown; but all was grey in that hour, for the sun had gone, and far below lights twinkled in the homes of Men. The vale was rich and many folk dwelt there.
Suddenly, without turning, Aragorn cried aloud so that all could hear: "Friends, forget your weariness! Ride now, ride! We must come to the Stone of Erech ere this day passes, and long still is the way."
It was with a smile that Legolas urged his horse onwards, going faster and faster, enjoying the pace as with it, they seemed to fly over the fields. As they passed, doors closed and windows slammed shut, the cries of the people loud on his ears.
"The King of the Dead! The King of the Dead is come upon us!"
Legolas laughed when he heard the shouts, ignoring Gimli's query at his behavior. He had felt like he should laugh. 'The King of the Dead', Aragorn was for them, and he was seen here as a part of a Dead army. To his eyes the title held honor, and where this thought came from he did not know.
{Does that even make sense? Proud of being counted as a part of this army of dead and haunted souls?}
{It does seem appropriate do you not think so?}
He went even faster, urging Arod to the poor beast's limit, forcing Gimli to cling onto him tightly in order to prevent the dwarf's deathly fall. Without turning, he could visualize Gimli's wide eyes and panicked expression at the speed they were going at, and the thought brought another laugh out of him.
Something strange was happening with him, and he felt it coming. But he didn't see why should he even try to stop it now…it felt…well…it made him feel alive…
{And it shall feel better, little one…soon…}
To be continued