Authors Note:

The timing of this story bears some unfortunate parallels to the events taking place in the world at the moment. A recent review forced me to consider how this story would be taken and in that sense, I feel compelled to clear the air so to speak. I would like to state for the record that Field of Battle and Heart of Darkness were plotted at the same time and that I have no particular desire to force my views on the current Iraqi situation on anyone through the medium of this story. If you see similarities, it is not intentional though I will confess that I believe, with very few exceptions, can a people be entirely blamed for the actions of their governments. This story will reflect not only an Easterling and Haradrim point of view but on the nature of war for both sides and the fine line between justice and revenge.

Also, it's just a story.

Chapter One

The Wrath of Elves

The dry heat burned into his skin beneath his clothes and for once Aragorn Elessar was grateful that his armour was packed away for the moment and he had no need of it. Gazing upwards, the sun seemed to glare back with indifference and forced the king of the Reunified Kingdom of Gondor and Arnor, to wipe the sweat forming on his brow. Lowering his eyes to the road ahead, he longed for a view of rolling green hills, tall trees whose roots ran deep into fresh loamy soil and the light mist of morning drifting across the land. He thought of his days in the wild, enjoying the quiet beauty of the forest and wished more than anything that he could be there today instead of this desolate place they were forced to traverse.

Ahead of him, there was nothing but empty dry, craggy terrain, where scorpions lurked under every stone as some of his men had learnt the hard way since this journey had begun. Water was a commodity more valuable than gold in this place and during the past weeks, they had learnt to ration it carefully. Watering holes did exist but they were rare and since the maps of this part of Middle earth spoke of no rivers for quite some distance, their advance into enemy territory could grind to a halt if they wasted their water supplies. It was not to say that they were unsupplied. In truth, they were exceedingly well equipped because Aragorn's first order after the decision to invade was made was the creation of an efficient supply line, which they had done.

He looked over his shoulder and saw Faramir too had given his armour and was clad once again in the clothes that he had worn as a Ranger. It was an idea Aragorn had subscribed to even though he was force to don sufficient regalia to ensure that no one mistook him for anyone but the king. In terms of morale, it was a necessary evil unfortunately. The Prince of Ithilien was staring into the distance but Aragorn doubted he was aware of anything ahead of him, preferring to let his horse to do the work of riding. The king suppressed a little smile, perfectly aware of what thoughts were running through the younger man's head especially after learning that he was going to be a father.

"Have you thought of a name?" Aragorn could not resist teasing.

Faramir turned to him with question in his eyes, realising that Aragorn had spoken if not exactly what he had said. "You spoke?"

"I see you are going to be no good to anyone until this child is born," the king joked.

Faramir laughed conceding defeat.

"I apologise Aragorn," Faramir replied, familiar with his king well enough to know that the man liked to be addressed by his name, not by his title. Faramir suspected that this allowed Aragorn to keep some semblance of his former life intact, to know his identity had not been absorbed entirely into the persona of the king. "My thoughts are elsewhere," Faramir confessed.

"That is no surprise to me," Aragorn smiled, remembering how he had behaved when Eldarion was born and was planning to take great delight when Faramir exhibited those same symptoms. "I asked if you had thought of a name."

Faramir nodded, recalling the few days he had spent in Ithilien before the council had made their decision to take the offensive in their war against the Confederacy. Eowyn was still recovering from her injuries during the battle at their fortress of the Eastern Eye and he had spent most of his time at her side, when he was not required to deal with preparations for their march into enemy territory. Even though the event was months away, both of them had delighted in enjoying what scant time they had together discussing it like any proud couple about to bear their first child.

"If it is a girl, Eowyn wishes to name her Théodwyn after her mother," Faramir revealed.

"That is a pretty name," Aragorn nodded, recalling that Theoden's only sister had passed when Eowyn and Eomer were children. "And if it is a boy?"

"If it is a boy then he will be named Boromir," Faramir said quietly.

"That would be fine indeed," Aragorn replied meeting his gaze and showing his approval of Faramir's choice. Even now, Aragorn missed Denethor's oldest son deeply and knew that Boromir would have thrilled in the war they were waging upon the enemies who had plagued Gondor for all his life. He remembered their drinking sessions during their journey with the Fellowship and the memory of all of Boromir's dreams for Gondor. The One Ring had used his love for his homeland to break him but Aragorn would never begrudge him for that. Boromir was his friend and would be for all time.

"I think he would have liked to have been an uncle," Faramir added sadly.

A moment of awkward silence followed where neither man spoke. Instead, they cast their gaze upon the road ahead and continued their trek across the dry, parched land. It had been almost two months since they had departed from Ithilien and began the journey southwards. Travelling along the Harad Road, they crossed the River Pouros into the lands of Haradwaith, home to the Haradrim. During their incursion into enemy territory, there had been a few engagements but nothing matching the intensity of battle that had taken place when the Confederacy had invaded Ithilien, Gondor and Rohirrim lands. Aragorn suspected that the Haradrim were consolidating their forces to defend more important targets deeper in their territory.

The elven army had taken the lead in the offensive because they required less rest than an army of men and were able to cover greater distance. Aragorn wanted them to conduct reconnaissance of the terrain they travelling since their knowledge of Haradwaith was scattered at best. An accurate knowledge of where the local watering holes were, what communities might aid them in exchange for mercy and perhaps some supplies of grain - because Aragorn knew the country was in the grips of a famine - might lessen the cost in lives for both armies. They were journeying to rendezvous with Legolas and hoped that the elf and his folk had succeeded in securing the valuable information required.

The sound of hoofs beating behind them caused Aragorn to look over his shoulder and see Eomer approaching. The King of the Mark had departed earlier to inspect the ranks of the Rohirrim cavalry and offer words of encouragement during this long trek. It was a duty that Aragorn had advised all the leaders riding with him to attend, having done the same for the Gondorian foot soldiers. It was purely for the purposes of morale because Aragorn believed firmly that kings should never become too set apart from their people. He marched with them for a few paces, soliciting their opinions on any improvements that could make the journey smoother and employed them when suggestions were good. He knew Eomer and Imrahil were of similar mind and the effect seemed to improve the speed of their advance.

"How are the Rohirrim today? Aragorn asked when Eomer joined them.

"Hot and bothered," Eomer said shortly, removing his helmet when his horse sidled along side of Aragorn's steed, Roheryn. "They do not mind the journey as much as they mind the heat and the anticipation of battle. Its this slow, moving caravan that bothers them."

"Typical cavalry men," Faramir snorted, "always believing that their component of the army is the most important."

"Well," Eomer gave him a look, "it is difficult to imagine why anyone would choose to fight without a horse."

"You Rohirrim have been spoiled by your saddles," Aragorn laughed. "There is nothing like keeping one's feet to the ground in order to gain true perspective of a situation."

"I will remember that during the next battle when you are all being trampled to death by mumakils, " Eomer said dryly.

"There should be a village ahead," Faramir remarked, studying one of the few accurate maps they had of the area. Legolas had provided it during their last meeting and as Faramir looked across the dry, arid landscape, he could see no signs of it yet. Still, they were moving uphill and would most likely see it once they had passed the crest of the rise.


"Axinar," Aragorn nodded, remembering it from his own study of the map. "It is meant to be a small farming community. Their principal crop is corn."

"Corn?" Eomer stared at him. "Judging by the land, their rains have not come in quite some time, are they able to sustain growth?"

"Meagrely, I understand," Aragorn replied. "The Rangers who have come this deep have claimed that many communities, now deprived of Sauron's tributes were forced to make their own food. Maize is a coarse grain but I believe it can grow with very little rain."

"If they had followed through with the treaty," Faramir shook his head, despising the fact that they were warring needlessly with an enemy whose people were the verge of starvation.

"Yes," Aragorn nodded sombrely. If it were not for the shape shifters who destroyed the treaty that the Reunified Kingdom was attempting to forge with the Confederacy, they would not be here now. The ruination of the treaty had driven the Confederacy to adopt desperate measures to feed their people and those measures were nothing less than an assault upon Middle earth.

Lebethron, Lossarnach, Edoras, Ithilien and Eden Ardhon had been summarily attacked and the cost in lives had mobilized the greatest army of men and elves in the Western lands since the War of the Ring.

"Do you hear that?" Faramir asked as they approached the top of the hill.

"What?" Aragorn looked at him.

"Listen," Faramir instructed his king and his face became taut with concentration.

Aragorn and Eomer exchanged puzzled looks before focusing as best they could on this elusive sound that Faramir was speaking of. A moment passed and then another where there was nothing and then, they could hear it. It was soft still because of distance but there was a sharpness to it that carried in the wind.

"It's weeping," Faramir raised his eyes to Aragorn. "I think it is weeping."

"Look," Eomer said a moment later when they reached the top of the hill and looked down at the village of Axinar below them.

"Sweet Elbereth," Aragorn's voice escaped him as he saw what had driven the voice from both Eomer and Faramir in seconds.

Beneath them was a village no bigger than Lebethron which had been the first to suffer the brunt of the enemy invasion. The community was small in comparison to the cornfields at its northern face. The fields of green was a stark contrast to the rest of the parched landscape and Aragorn saw water bores positioned around them to irrigate the dry soil. The field was untouched and looked pristine, a welcoming sight for a people who were accustomed to forests and great, rolling hills of green. However, the rest of Axinar turned his blood cold in his veins.

The sound of weeping was still too far to be heard clearly but Aragorn had no need to hear it any sooner. Bodies were strewn across the street, blood draining into the dry sand. Women were lamenting the fate of their men, some cradling bodies rocking back and forth, holding their children in their arms, children who were now fatherless. Some buildings were gutted with fire, the embers of which had already started to cool because they had seen no evidence of a fire before this. A great calamity had swept through this village and committed an act of butchery he had not seen since Lebethron.

"Who did this?" Eomer demanded, the man of Rohirrim so much like Boromir at times in the fact that he shared the man of Gondor's strong sense of outrage as well as temper. "Most of those men look like farmers."

Aragorn did not speak but a dreadful suspicion was creeping up his spine, one he dared not voiced even though he could see the same conclusion dawning upon Faramir, if not Eomer. Eomer's senses were too filled with disgust at the carnage to think clearly as to who might be responsible but for Aragorn and Faramir, who were not as impulsive as the horse lord, the answer screamed out in their minds.

"Faramir," Aragorn said staring at head at the devastated village, not even turning to his Steward as he spoke, "tell everyone we will hold here for now. I want a small detachment of men to help with the bodies and see what rations we can spare. With the men gone, these folk have no one left to harvest the corn. Also, we will need Pallando. I believe he is riding with Imrahil at the rear. We will need him to speak for us."

"It will be done," Faramir nodded, tugging the reins of his horse gently and retreating up the column of the army.

Aragorn nudged Roheryn forward, his expression one of stone.


"You are going down there?" The King of the Mark asked the obvious question.

"Yes," Aragorn nodded sombrely, seeing nothing but the dead,. He prayed that he was wrong but deep inside of him, he knew he was not.

***************

Eomer would not allow Aragorn to go into the village of Axinar alone. While the army halted their progress on the outskirts of the community, the two riders made their way into the village and saw the aftermath of a bloody night of terror. Women were weeping next to their men, children were wandering about, the horror of last night's events reflected in their dazed expressions. At the sight of them, the women screamed and ran away in fright, picking up their children and vanishing into their home of mud brick. Goats, which appeared to be the primary meat source in this part of the realm, brayed anxiously in their pens at the human stampede. The heat of the sun was taking its toll upon the bodies, bloating them as the stench of dust began to take on a decidedly rancid odour.

Aragorn dismounted and swept his gaze across the village, at the faces too despaired to run in fear. There were trails of blood leading from the open doors of houses, a clear indication of what violence transpired here the night before. He wiped his nose at the smell of charred wood and stared at one home long enough to see the burnt skeleton within its ruins. A child peered out a window and quickly retreated as flies buzzed noisily around the corpse in front of her home. Aragorn walked to the dead man and waved away the flies feeding off his blood and torn flesh. He studied the man's hands briefly and noticed the worn leather of his flesh, the hard calluses. Whatever, this man did for a living, it was not soldiering.

His eyes caught sight of a brooch and reached for it. Examining the fine piece of silver in his hands, his stomach hollowed and he clenched his fist around it, not caring that the pin dug into his skin or that after a moment, rivulets of blood were running down his hands. He wanted to scream but he was almost beyond anger. He had not been so angry since he had found Boromir but this time, it was not a murderous Uruk-Hai that had earned his rage and that realisation made his anguish even worse.

"Aragorn," Eomer came to him and saw the blood. "Your hand."

The King of Rohan took Aragorn's hand and Aragorn did not have the will to stop him. Eomer opened his palm and saw the blood drenched brooch in his hand. It did not take him long to reach to the same conclusion as Aragorn and his intense green eyes met Aragorn, wanting the Gondorian king to tell him that he was wrong but Aragorn said nothing of the sort and Eomer could understand why Aragorn had acted as he had.

"This is elvish," Eomer exclaimed, staring at the ornate design of the elven brooch. He had seen the trinket against the cloaks of Legolas' soldiers. "How could it be elvish?"

Aragorn could not bring himself to answer because he feared the worst. Ever since Legolas had offered to use his army as an advance party, Aragorn had prayed that the elf had no ulterior motive for the gesture. Now it appeared that he had been right and Legolas had an agenda that none of them were aware.

"They would not have done this," Eomer stated, "they could not have. These people are farmers and common folk by the look of them. They are not soldiers." His gaze wept across the lay of village and absorbed the full measure of his tragedy.

"We will wait until Pallando arrives," Aragorn said quietly. "He knows the Haradrim tongue, perhaps he will be able to learn what happened here."

"You think that the elves did this, do you not?" Eomer met his gaze, astute enough to see past the anguish Aragorn was trying so hard to hide.

"It is possible," Aragorn finally confessed.

"You are wrong," Eomer declared because he counted Legolas Greenleaf of the Woodland Realm as one of his friends. The elf was always so calm and collected. To imagine that he could be party to such butchery was beyond Eomer's ability to grasp and yet Aragorn, who knew the elf best, believed it. He believed it so much that his blood had run red over his hand at the discovery of the brooch.

"Oh Elbereth," Eomer hissed because now, he was starting to believe and as his skepticism gave way, the ramifications of the truth began to take shape in his mind. "We cannot let him do this."

"It will be difficult to stop him," Aragorn said turning away and wondering if there was anyone left alive that could benefit from his skills as a healer or were the elves thorough enough to have left no wounded behind, only the dead. "Firstly, we need their numbers in this war since we have not even penetrated the heart of Haradwraith and secondly, as disgusting as this butchery may appear to us, he is clearing our way."

"Clearing our way?" Eomer swung around and faced Aragorn, "is that what you call this? This people are dead! These are fathers, uncles, brothers and husbands who have been murdered before their people. I agreed to ride with you to conquer these lands to ensure peace, not to become party to this slaughter. What has been done here today will be branded into the minds of every child in this village and they will grow up thinking that we are not better than murderers. All that has been done here is to laid the seeds for future acts of vengeance when children become men!"

"DO YOU THINK I DO NOT KNOW THAT!" Aragorn shouted with just as much rage. "Do you think it does not tear me apart inside seeing that this violence may have been the result of my friend's anger? Ever since Eden Ardhon, he has been a different person and I cannot reach him. He blames himself entirely for what happened to Melia and his people and the utter annihilation of the Confederacy had become his obsession!"

Eomer swallowed, understanding Aragorn's turmoil and like the King of Gondor had no adequate response. "What are we do if they are responsible for this?" he asked quietly even though the notion that someone else had perpetrated this crime was dwindling fast in Eomer's mind.

"I do not know," Aragorn spoke honestly, "but at the moment I do not know how we can stop the elves. He has filled every elf in his army with outrage over what was done at Eden Ardhon. To them, there is no greater sin than rape. That it was done to the women of an elven colony, there is no forgiveness and there will be no restraint. I suppose if they are responsible for this, we ought to be grateful that they only killed the men."

"That is not a consolation that I can live with," Eomer said sourly and drew in a deep breath because he did not like the taste of Aragorn's words and yet he would have to swallow it. He would have to because Aragorn was right.

If the elves were on a crusade then Elbereth help them, no one would be able to stop them.

******************

They would not linger long at Axinar.

Aragorn could not stomach being forced to look at the faces of despair in the wake of the attack the night before, particularly after Pallando the Istar confirmed irrefutably from the survivors that it was the elves who responsible for the massacre. From what he had been able to ascertain from the distraught womenfolk who were questioned, Legolas and the elven army had swept through the village after dark and killed every man who opposed them and then continued on those who did not. The elves had been extremely precise in their actions throughout the village, moving from home to home in a methodical manner and ensuring that when they left no adult male was left alive in any household in Axinar.

While the army camped on the hill where he had left them, Aragorn assisted the detachment of men with the disposal of the bodies. Pallando had informed Aragorn that the Haradrim did not bury their dead but rather sent them into the afterlife in a pyre of flame. It was sensible considering the terrain of hard earth made it difficult to dig for purposes other than farming. Cremation ensured a quick efficient means of burial without unnecessary exposure of the body, which would decompose quickly in the heat.

Aragorn had sent for Pallando prior to their departure from Ithilien. The wizard had been in Isengard for the past months, offering guidance to the acolytes trained by Gandalf before he departed across the sea. While Pallando did not wish to become master of Orthanc, remembering all too well the corruption of the last person to bear that title, he did remain close enough to ensure that all of Gandalf's students could seek him out if they needed assistance. Aragorn could not deny that it was comforting to have the older man's presence during this campaign. The last time Aragorn had led an army, Gandalf had been at his side to most extent and the wizards's counsel had been valuable indeed. Pallando was proving to be a similar asset since he knew the terrain to some degree having journeyed through here once before as well as knowing the languages spoken by the Haradrim.

Pallando, who had a deep friendship with King Thranduil of the Woodland Realm, was clearly disturbed by the massacre in Axinar. They no longer deluded themselves into believing that it could be anything else. Legolas had been the first member of the Fellowship to encounter the wizard and they had formed a deep friendship. It was Legolas who had encouraged Aragorn to meet the one of the last remaining Istar in Middle earth. For Pallando, it was difficult to believe that the passionate, noble elf had been responsible for this carnage.

As the day stretched into night, Aragorn and his men ensured that the village were supplied with what rations they could spare which was to say less than adequate, considering that the harvest was months away and there was not enough livestock to sustain them in the interim. Even if there was, the traditional role of women in Haradrim society ensured that they were knowledgeable only in matters involving the household and the rearing of children. Some were skilled in the crafts, namely weaving and basket making which was considered acceptable pursuits by Haradrim society but farming was entirely a man's duty.

"Perhaps we could leave some of our men behind," Faramir suggested as they discussed what to be done as it drew closer to their time of departure.

"We could never be assured of their safety," Aragorn replied, having thought that. "We assume that the Haradrim have marshalled their forces to engage us further ahead but if we are mistaken, they may well return here and it would not bode well for our soldier if they were found in a village where all the men were murdered."

"I have difficulty believing that Legolas did this," Eomer confessed. His previous disbelief still lingered even though he no longer doubted the culpability of the elves in the massacre. It was just so impossible to believe.

"We all do," Pallando said sympathetically, "but in their time, they have known wrath and in their wrath, they can be terrible indeed. Take heart that there is some measure of restraint in their actions. They could have killed everyone here, they did not."

"We must keep moving," Aragorn said finally moving away from the subject since there was little they could do about it, "we will meet up with Legolas soon enough and discuss the matter fully."

"I doubt you will make him see reason," Faramir added.

"I do not expect him to see reason, but I am hoping that he has not done to all the villages ahead what he did here," Aragorn declared grimly.

"You do no think…." Eomer exclaimed in horror at the full ramifications of Aragorn's statement.

"Axinar is perhaps the first village of size we have encountered," the king answered, "from this point on they will grow until we reach the larger cities. If Legolas is conducting a methodical cleansing of all havens the enemy might attempt use to launch an attack upon our forces, then it is very possible. I pray that it is otherwise."

"We will need more than prayer if the elven army has embarked on a crusade," Pallando replied, remembering the exodus of Feanor, the Kinslaying that followed and all the destruction that was wrought in the world when the elves had decided to avenge themselves against Morgoth or die trying. In the end, Beleriand had been destroyed and Feanor, as well as most of his kin, was dead.

Pallando hope it would not come to that for Legolas.

**************

In the city of Mahazar, on the banks of the river Sanara, Dallanar, king of Haradwraith pondered how the grand scheme to restore the pride of his people had taken such a disastrous turn. Staring out of the balcony window, the king's gaze swept across the line of trees that kept the city from the grounds of the palace. With the exception of the palace, Haradrim architecture ensured that most buildings in the city were constructed low to the ground, following the traditional belief that the king should always stand higher above ordinary folk. It was a bit of nonsense that Dallanar did not himself subscribe to but it would have been considered a grave insult to remove the tradition.

Fortunately, from the balcony of his throne room, he was afforded a panoramic view of Mahazar and the Sanara that ran along its eastern border. Canals had been built centuries ago to bring water into the city, turning Mahazar into a true oasis in the desert. The Sanara was the main waterway in Haradwraith and along its banks, the great cities of Near Harad and Far Harad had been built. The river connected both parts of the Haradrim nation and was not merely a primary water source but also an important transit way. In the centre of this winding river system was Mahazar, the undisputed capital of Haradwraith for that had been established by the forebears of Ulfang, almost five centuries ago.

It was not a city of tall spires and white towers like Minas Tirith. Other than the palace, no building in Mahazar was built higher than three floors. Instead of spires, the main architectural characteristic of Haradrim buildings was its domed shape. The domed shape had been adopted primarily to combat the harsh sand storms that sometimes blew in unexpectedly from the desert. The occurrence was rare but the damage wrought had taught Haradrim architects to relinquish the traditional concepts of construction. Erected from either sandstone or mud brick, depending on economic circumstances, Mahazar was now a domed city with the short palms trees littering its streets. During the interludes of war, it was a busy place, with traders, merchants and people from all walks of life going about their business.

Gods, he loved it.

As a child he would wander the streets, becoming lost in smells, sights and sounds. In those days, Mahazar had been a grand place indeed during the pause between wars. Though it was a fact of life that they could be called on to serve the lord of Mordor at any given time, for most past Sauron was some distant force that provided their outer regions with tributes while demanding their industry be devoted to the business of war. They knew that he had plans for a great battle and that the enemies of the west would be quick to infringe upon their territories if they did not display a show of strength. The men of the west were always encroaching upon their lands, claiming lordship of Middle earth.

They had been bred to think of the races of the western lands as the enemy. The dislike for Gondor had become so ingrained into their existence that they no longer knew how to exist in any other way. When Dallanar had embarked upon his war, it had been for as much as territory as an assurance that Gondor did not attempt to conquer them in their weakened state. The famine had yet to reach the cities along the river but the rest of the Haradrim nation was suffering, as terribly as the Easterlings in their own lands. More and more starving people were flocking to Mahazar and cities like it, and though the Sanara was a healthy river with plenty of bounty, even Danallar knew that it was dangerous to overfish. If the Sanara were to run dry, it would be nothing less than disaster for the Haradrim.

The drought had yet to break in many parts of the country with crops failing everywhere. Driven by hunger, the people of Haradwraith were being forced into the cities but the relief they found there would only be temporary. Dallanar had thought the invasion of the Reunified Kingdom would provide him access to grain rich lands that would feed his people. The Gondorian king was weak and too filled with notions of peace to be able to mount a suitable defence if Dallanar could keep him off balance. The horse lords, though formidable, were no match for the mumakils. He had sent agents across the enemy territories in secret, gathering allies from disaffected races that had been defeated in the War of the Ring. To reclaim pride and vengeance, they were happy to assist in the war effort.

The only gamble had been the elves.

He knew that if there were any elf remaining in Middle earth that would become involve in the affairs of men, it would undoubtedly be Legolas Greenleaf of Eden Ardhon. His ties with the Gondorian king were too well known. Dallanar had gambled on the elf wishing to protect his own when he had ordered the slaughter at Lebethron. However, that had done little to keep the elves from aiding in the defence of Lossarnach, a strategic target that would have been invaluable to the eventual downfall of Gondor. In anger, he decided the elf needed a more prolific lesson and so the order was given to attack Eden Ardhon.

In truth, he found rape distasteful but it was a useful tool and employed against elves, whose especial hatred of it was infamous, Dallanar was certain that it would enough to teach Legolas the abject lesson he needed to learn. There were rumours that the elf had married a human and an Easterling at that. The possibility had been discounted because the notion was absurd. The Eldar did not join with mortals. However, in the wake of Eden Ardhon, Dallanar was faced with the unexpected news that the elf lord's wife was indeed an Easterling and that she had been one of the women violated.

His words to Legolas during their battle had been nothing more than posturing. In reality, he had not been at all happy to hear that she had been defiled and had assumed that the lady would have been removed from Eden Ardhon as any queen would have been under the threat of the attack. When he had learnt that an Easterling female had been among the violated, Dallanar realized he had made a fatal mistake because it was one thing to inflict such an evil upon his people but to ravage a wife? That was an entirely different kind of hate and one not so easily quelled. In Haradwraith, a wife could be assured of her husband's utmost protection even if her freedoms were limited. It was a mistake that had culminated with the elven forces swarming to the rescue of Ithilien and almost annihilating the bulk of the Confederacy's army.

Now, he stared through the balcony at Mahazar while behind him, his generals read reports of the enemy's advance into Haradwraith. Axinar, Laxor, Brecat and Turazon had fallen to the elven advance, villages and towns that had been savagely attacked with every man in the village slaughtered. The outer lands were swiftly becoming a population of women and children. The elves were spearheading the push towards the capital cities and following behind, wiping out any lingering resistance was the Gondorian king and his allies. So far both sides had avoided major engagements because Dallanar was determined to choose their battlefield. As much as he despised it, he would have to abandon the outer regions for the defense of the larger cities.

"Enough," he turned around and faced his war council," I have heard enough."


"Sire," Khamis, the supreme commander of his army wore no repentance on his face for the grim delivery of news. "We must amass our remaining forces to defend Sanara belt. The Firstborn do not sleep as we do. They require little rest so they cover great distances. In a matter of weeks, they will be upon our doorstep."

"What about our allies in Khand?" Dallanar asked.

"The Variags are marching as we speak but they will not arrive for at least 45 days," his prime minister replied. "The Easterlings are conscripting since it is believed the Firstborn will turn their attention to Rhun once they are finished with us. It is in their best interest to prevent Haradwraith from falling. If the Firstborn can be halted at the Sanara belt, they may reconsider the invasion of Easterling territories."

"Then we have a sizeable army at our disposal if we can hold them," Danallar looked at them for confirmation.

"Yes," Khamis nodded. "However, we ourselves suffered losses at Ithilien, our ranks are low."


"Then we will follow the lead of the Easterlings," Dallanar declared seeing no other solution and refusing to concede defeat, no matter who the enemy, "we will conscript. Every man past his eighteen year will make himself available to military service or face the consequences. I will speak to our people and tell them that there are barbarians at our gates, that the murderers of our Lord Sauron seek to destroy us just as he predicted. We will stoke the fire of outrage in them so fiercely that it will overwhelm the First Born and the Alliance of the Reunified Kingdom."

************

"Are you alright Master Gimli?" Haldir of Lorien asked of the dwarf who was perched on rock at the edge of the elven encampment, staring out into the horizon of desert terrain watching the slow descent of night upon the land.

During the day, the land of Harad was warm and dusty but at the night, the temperatures lowered considerably and it was actually quite pleasant. There was a light breeze sweeping across the desert on this night but not enough to assail them with grains of sand though they had become more than accustomed to it in recent weeks. Gimli had endured the worst of it for he was constantly shaking dust out of his beard, which seemed to perfect catchment for the infernal particles. However, the physical discomfort was the least of the dwarf's worries at this moment. What caused him grave concern had nothing to do with the desert and everything to do with the state of mind of his best friend.

"I am well, Master Elf," Gimli said gruffly, wishing to be left alone. He and Haldir did not have a relationship that could be considered warm. In truth, he wished he had reconsidered Aragorn's offer to journey with the king instead of accompanying Legolas in this advance expedition into enemy territory.

"I merely wished to be left alone," Gimli added. He had no desire to be rude, however he needed solitude at this time and had little patience for conversation.

Haldir was not an elf capable of being deterred by an unruly dwarf and lowered himself next to Gimli who was staring at him in growing annoyance at not being left alone. The march warden ignored the muttering noise of disapproval made by the dwarf, remembering with fondness their first meeting, which was less than amicable. Dwarves and elves seldom saw anything eye to eye, which was why he had been somewhat surprised by the friendship forged between the Prince of Mirkwood and the Lord of Aglarond. However, Haldir sensed that he had an ally in Gimli and at this moment, he needed to be in the company of someone who was just as distressed about what was happening around them as he.

"These have been difficult days," Haldir stated tentatively as he gazed up at the stars and found no comfort in Varda's light.

"Is that what you call it?" Gimli answered, his voice barely managing to sound biting.

"I do not know what to call it," Haldir confessed. "I know that I will not be able to look at myself in the mirror for many years after this."

Gimli turned sharply to the elf, surprised that one whose prejudice for dwarves was infamous, would make such a personal comment. He saw Haldir's gaze devoid of its usual arrogance or haughtiness, which stayed his urge to make a sarcastic comment.

"I doubt you will be the only one," he admitted after awhile.

"It was not meant to be like this," Haldir replied, grateful that Gimli had deign to speak to him instead of brushing him away. "This was meant to be a campaign to prevent what happened to Eden Ardhon from happening once more. When I heard that the Lady Melia had been defiled, I was outraged."

In truth, he had been more than outraged. As one who once thought he might have loved the lady, he had been furious despite his reconciliation with his feelings about her. One only had to see Legolas and Melia together to know that they were made for one another and Haldir had was not one to pine for someone he could not have, especially when she was human. However, despite all the very sensible reasons why he should not love her and had learned not to, he still cared for Melia. To hear that she had been harmed so callously had made him more than willing to join Legolas on this crusade to end the Confederacy threat.

"I wanted to avenge her honour almost as badly as the Prince," Haldir continued to speak, "it was my counsel that aided Thranduil efforts in convincing my lord Celeborn to sent troops under the Prince's banner. It was meant to be a righteous cause, to avenge and cleanse the world of men from a people that not only threatened our allies but also ourselves but I never imagined it would come to this."

Until he had spoken, Haldir had not realised how unsettled he was by what had been transpiring since they had entered Haradwraith. He had stood loyally at the princes' side, issuing orders that made him baulk in horror but delivering them nonetheless because duty demanded that he did. He knew others were similarly discontent by the orders given by Legolas Greenleaf but the lingering anger at what had taken place at Eden Ardhon quelled their objections. Yet he had seen their eyes in the aftermath of carrying those orders and while they were not ready to disobey, they would not be able to forget what they had done for a long time to come.

Haldir knew he would not that was for certain.

"There is a fine light between justice and revenge," Gimli replied after awhile, sympathizing with Haldir because his axe had been similarly stained in the first battle at Axinar, "I think what we have done can hardly be called justice."

Haldir did not disagree with him. Since Axinar, Gimli had only attacked in order to defend himself despite Legolas' orders to the contrary. Too much did the actions of the elves resemble the butchery at Lebethron, and it was to Gimli's everlasting shame that he had taken part in the bloodshed. He suspected that when Aragorn arrived at the rendezvous point where they were now awaiting him, the Gondorian king would be no less happy by the path of destruction they had left behind.

"I had hoped you could reason with him," Haldir looked at Gimli.

Gimli snorted derisively before responding, "he does not listen to any reason that would rob him of his revenge. Legolas made an oath to the Haradrim king that he would pay in blood for what was done to Melia and Eden Ardhon, I do not think that it was an idle threat. He means to destroy the Haradrim king for unleashing the Easterlings upon Melia and once he is done here, it would not surprise me if he turns his attention to Rhun."

"There are enough of us who will follow him," Haldir replied. "The audacity of defiling an elven colony has sparked a fury in my people not seen since Finwe's death."

"As I recall," Gimli looked at him, "that ended very badly for everyone involved. I am not letting that damned fool of an elf bring ruin to himself and everyone else, including the lady for whom all this is about. If she were here, she would be utterly horrified by what he has done."

"Then perhaps you should bring her the news," Haldir met his gaze.

"You mean return to Gondor and bring her here?" Gimli exclaimed in shock.

"If I could leave to do the deed myself I would," Haldir replied. "However, it cannot be me because I must stand with the prince as his lieutenant in this conflict. You are his friend but you are not bound by any oath to remain at his side."

"Aside from the oath of friendship," Gimli pointed out.

"You will be preserving that friendship if you were to bring Melia here," Haldir returned. "You know as well as I do that she is the only person that may reach him before he destroys himself to avenge her."

Gimli shifted uncomfortably, unconvinced that this was the best course but there was logic to what Haldir was saying. It was true, Melia would never stand for this. She had been unhappy as it was to learn Legolas had embarked upon the quest to acquire an army of elves to fight in the war. She had as much spoke it though Legolas was hardly capable of listening at the time.

"I must consider this further," Gimli spoke after a moment. His mind was not yet set to go but he was being drawn to Haldir's proposal because of its sense. He loathed going to Melia and bring her such new, almost as much as he hated betraying his friend by this action but Haldir was right, if they did not do something, Legolas would destroy himself and possibly what good will that existed between elves and men. Aragorn and Eomer may have been angered by the actions of the Confederacy in their territories, but neither man was believer in vengeance and it had been Aragorn's fervent wish from the beginning of his reign to unite the races of men.

"I cannot leave just yet," Gimli explained himself, "When Aragorn arrives, there will be a council of war and I must be present for that."

"For all the good that it will do," Haldir sighed. "I sense that the Elfstone will have little desire to discuss anything after he learns of what has happened at Axinar."

With that, Gimli could not disagree.

************

When Aragorn had voiced his suspicions, or rather fears, that the fate of Axinar might have befallen the other communities on the road to their rendezvous with the elven army, he had prayed that suspicions were all that would come of his worries. However, upon reaching the townships of Laxor, Brecat and Turazon, he came to the conclusion that the situation was indeed as terrible as he feared.. In each community, they were told the same terrible story about the invaders who attacked under the cover of dark, killing with impunity every male they came across during the night. Only the women and children were left to see the dawn and the wail of anguish that chased the passing army as they departed, burned into the hearts and minds of all who heard its sorrow.

Furthermore, the news of elven savagery had traveled far according to the Rangers who intercepted the army some days before their rendezvous with elven forces.

While Faramir and Imrahil followed him with without question because they were both princes by Gondor's grace and were loyal to their king, Aragorn knew that Eomer and the Rohirrim seethed in disgust at the sight of the slaughter. Eomer had said little but Aragorn could sense that the horse lord was beginning to question his part in this campaign against the Haradrim. If something was not done soon to assure Eomer that their path of conquest was nothing more than an organized reason for murder, the King of the Mark would return to Rohan with his much needed cavalry. Unfortunately, Aragorn could offer him no assurance until he saw the Prince of Mirkwood for himself.

As it was, he was in no fit mind to talk to Legolas because Aragorn was furious and it was an anger that built over the course of their journey. A part of him was unable to believe that Legolas had been responsible for the bloodshed he had seen. Legolas, who had been his friend for the past sixty years, who had been at his side as a member of Fellowship and had battled more evils with him than any other person alive. Legolas had always been the paragon of elven dignity, the calm voice whenever all others about him were steeped in panic. If there was one thing Aragorn could rely upon, it was Legolas' ability to offer his sound counsel when his own blood was boiling with the unrestrained heat of human temperament.

How on earth had it come to this?

Aragorn supposed that if it had been Arwen, he would behave no differently. The very thought of someone defiling her as Melia had been defiled hollowed his stomach and made his hands clench into fists. However, he did not have the luxury to examine his own hypocrisy, not when so many were dying around him. The journey to the rendezvous was sullen among his companions and when the elven camp came in sight, Aragorn was forced to call for calm since Eomer's first instincts were to confront the elf and shake a satisfactory answer out of him. Fortunately, the king of the Mark was more accessible to reason than Legolas was at this time.

The elves had chosen to camp on the tributary of what was Haradwraith's main waterway, the Sanara. Like the Anduin, though lesser in scale, the Sanara provided irrigation and water for many hundreds of villages scattered throughout the region. After making the crossing through the harsher terrain of the country, the respite by the river was more than welcome, though the mood within both camps was sombre. The elves were still festering their anger at Eden Ardhon close to their heart, along with some other burdens of which they did not speak, while the human army were trying to come to grips with the realisation that their allies in this conflict might have gone mad.

Aragorn bid the others to refresh themselves while he went to see Legolas first. Eomer's blood was too hot to risk a meeting straight away and as Aragorn was directed to Legolas' tent in the elven camp, he wondered if he was in any better state of mind. He strode across the encampment, barely aware of the greetings that were offered him as he passed, though he did manage a cursory acknowledgement, trying to calm himself before he faced his friend. The images of Axinar and all those smaller villages were appearing before his eyes in quick flashes, taunting him with the grim memories of their doom.

Legolas occupied the largest tent in the elven camp, notably because it would also serve as the venue for his conferences with his lieutenants. As he approached the open flap, he could hear the voices within. His entry into its confines was permitted by the elves on guard, who knew who he was and stood aside without offering any challenge. Aragon stepped inside and saw Nunaur, Haldir and Gimli gathered around a table with Legolas at the head of it. There were maps splayed across the surface though none of the elves were staring at it. With their senses, they would have known he was approaching even before he reached the guard.

"Well you're a sight for sore eyes!" Gimli said boisterously as he approached the human and hugged him warmly. Aragorn was grateful to see the dwarf in one piece but wondered if Gimli had done anything to talk Legolas out of his murderous course. No sooner than the thought left his head, Aragorn knew that Gimli would have most likely tried but Legolas was no longer listening to anyone.

"It is good to see you Master Dwarf," Aragorn smiled faintly and met Gimli's gaze. In doing so, he saw that Gimli's relief was more than just because they had not seen each other for a time. In that one instant of contact, Aragorn could tell that Gimli was just as unhappy at what was happening as he was.

"Aragorn," Legolas started to say with a smile when Aragorn cut him off.

"Gentlemen," Aragorn said coolly, "I would like a moment with the Prince."

Nunaur and Haldir exchanged anxious glances while Legolas' smile faded from his face. The elf and the human met

each other's eyes and as the others quickly vacated the tent to give the king of Gondor his private audience. Even Gimli left without saying a word.


The moment they were alone, Aragorn who had been ordering himself to maintain his calm, that shouting, screaming and violence would avail him nothing, lashed out with his fist and sent the elf sprawling backwards. Legolas stumbled against the table, almost toppling it with the weight of the impact. He had little time to recover when he felt Aragorn's hands on his tunic, pulling him to meet Aragorn's gaze.

"I take it you are displeased with my progress," Legolas said dispassionately as he glared at Aragorn.

Nunaur and Haldir had made a hasty return to the tent upon hearing the commotion. As Legolas wiped a smear of blood from his lips, he looked past Aragorn's shoulder at the two elves and bid them to leave. Aragorn cursed himself for his temper and used the pause to calm down once more. This was not how he had anticipated their reunion to transpire but then Aragorn had expected a great deal from Legolas that had not come to pass.

"You murdered innocent people," Aragorn accused once they were alone again. "I saw what you did at Axinar and all those others places. You murdered every man in the village!"

"I did," Legolas returned sharply. "From what I have been able to discern, the battle of the Eastern Eye drained the Haradrim ranks. Their army, what is left of it, is in tatters. The Easterlings, out of fear that we would be turning our eye to Rhun, parted company after their failure at Ithilien and returned home to fortify their defences. In order to counter us, the

Haradrim will have to conscript to fill their ranks. What I did was merely a pre-emptive strike."

"A pre-emptive strike?" Aragorn stared at him, unable to believe that this was the excuse that Legolas was using to justify his actions. He had fought in many wars during his time but even Aragorn was stunned by the callousness of the elf's reasoning. "Are you telling me that you murdered those men to keep them from fighting for the Haradrim in the future?"

"It would seem the sensible course," Legolas said dispassionately.

"Do you take me for a fool?" Aragorn hissed. "Do you think I do not know what this is? You are not so cold or ruthless without reason and your reason has nothing to do with this war!"

Legolas' eyes became hard as flint and he returned with as much venom, "my reasons are none of your concern. My participation in this war is. We have done what we have set out to do; we have ensured that your way here was clear of threat. Beyond that, you have little reason to complain."

"Complain?" Aragorn stared at him as if it were a stranger before him, not his best friend.

"Legolas, listen to yourself. You are not a murderer. In your heart, I know you do not mean this bloodshed you have caused. You are angry and rightly so. If it were Arwen, I cannot say I would behave any differently but this is not the way to win. To take it out on innocents makes us no better than the animals who harmed Melia."

"I did not rape anyone!" Legolas exploded. "Have you forgotten what they did at Lebethron? Have you forgotten all those people who were butchered, men, women and children! They were strung up like meat and not before their women were raped, everyone of them? They spared no one not even children! How dare you compare me to them? I killed men because they will become our enemies. Sauron has poisoned these people! All they know how to do is kill in his name. What I did was ensure that the old ways that they had been taught, die with them. The new generation will be spared his malice."

"No," Aragorn shook his head; "all you have done is ensure that the next generation will see us as nothing more than the butchers who murdered their fathers."

"Perhaps, that may teach them some fear," Legolas returned, "Perhaps they will understand that there are consequences to invading someone's homeland, that one cannot murder and rape without impunity."

"I think you have taught them that lesson most prolifically," Aragorn declared, "but it stops now."

"Stops?" Legolas stared at him. "Are you presuming to command me Aragorn? I believe my father and Celeborn gave me command of the elven army."

"Unless you wish to fight this war on your own," Aragorn said coldly, unable to believe that he was using this tone with his friend, a member of the Fellowship, no less. How in Elbereth's name had it come to this? Aragorn asked himself for the second time this day. "You will hold back because if I see another village rorted as Axinar and the others were, I swear to you that Gondor will withdraw. As it is, it took some convincing to keep the Rohirrim from leaving after what Eomer witnessed in Axinar."

"We can fight this war on our own," Legolas declared but Aragorn sensed a little crack in his seemingly impenetrable façade. "We were alone before your people awoke at Hildorien, we will manage just as well without you."

"You think so?" Aragorn returned. "Fortunately, my Rangers are better informed than you. The news of what you did at Laxor, Brecat and Turazon has spread across the entire eastern lands. They know of the massacre as far as the Inland Sea. The Easterlings fear that once the elves are done in Haradwraith, you will march to Rhun and commit the same slaughter. So they no longer think it is in their best interests to protect their borders, they are amassing to join the Haradrim to fight you here before it reaches their territory. There is also talk that the Variags are sending an army five thousand strong from Khand, so as much as you think you do not need us, it is my duty to tell you otherwise."

There was a long pause and Aragorn saw that Legolas was seeing the wisdom of his words and was forced to concede the point but the edge of his hatred was still sharp and unabated. As much as Aragorn loathed admitting it, Legolas would obey because he had to, not because it was the right thing to do.

"It appears that I have little choice but to agree," Legolas said stiffly.

"You have more choices than you know," Aragorn declared. "Legolas, I am not your enemy, I am your friend and we have been together through more things than it is possible to name. I grieve with you for what was done to Melia, it tears at my heart because she, like you, is part of my family. I want to make those who harmed her pay just as much as you but not like this, not at the costs of innocent who did nothing this brutality."

"She did nothing to warrant this brutality!" He shouted. "And you have no right to say anything because you do not know how I feel! You did not place Melia in the path of danger! I did that and I was not even there to when they defiled her!"

"Legolas…" Aragorn stared to say because he could see the open wound in the elf's heart, the terrible anguish he felt because he considered himself culpable for all that had transpired not merely to his wife but to his people.

"I do not need your pity," he snapped. "I will do as you ask. I will tell my army to exercise restraint but hear me in this. I will not tolerate any compromise when it comes to this war. The Haradrim will fall. I made oath to burn his city around his ears and I do not intend to break it."

************

Aragorn left the tent shaken.

Not even when he had seen Gandalf and Boromir die had he been so unnerved by any one event. If he were any less of a man than he was, he would have wept in the wake of his exchange with Legolas. It was as if when the Easterlings had raped Melia, they had succeeded in killing his best friend too. Aragorn wished there was a remedy to heal the wound inside Legolas because words were doing little to move the elf.

"I take it, it did not go well," Gimli remarked, stepping out of the shadows when Aragorn emerged from the tent.

"Not at all," Aragorn said meeting his gaze, knowing that in Gimli, was the one person who could understand his pain regarding Legolas because Gimli was the third part of their trinity. "I do not know to reach him. He cannot see anything beyond vengeance."

"I tried to reason with him," Gimli said softly, "but he is beyond listening. He is beyond everything I fear."

"Do not blame yourself," Aragorn placed a comforting arm on the dwarf's shoulder. "I do not think Galadriel herself could talk any sense into him at this moment."

"Perhaps not Galadriel," Gimli replied and raised his eyes to Aragorn, "but certainly it is a lady he needs to hear."

It took but a fraction of a second for Aragorn to grasp his meaning before the king was opening his mouth to speak.

"I will ride out in the morning," Gimli answered before Aragorn could say the words.

"Yes," Aragorn nodded, "bring her here and if she is unable to talk any sense into him then I do not know what other course there is left to us."

"Other than to let him kill them all?" Gimli looked at him.

"I will not allow that," Aragorn said firmly and prayed that he was as good as his word.


BACK TO MAIN PAGE