Chapter Three

The Road to Sanara

If Aragorn had believed sending Gimli alone to Gondor had been difficult, it was nothing in comparison to the mission he was allowing Faramir to embark with Pallando.

Even as he watched the younger man and the wizard preparing to depart from the camp a mere two days after Gimli had left for his journey, Aragorn wondered if he had not taken leave of his senses by permitting Faramir to accompany Pallando into the heart of enemy territory. As king, he knew the decision he had made was sound. No one was better suited for the task of entering the Haradrim stronghold than Faramir. Aragorn was forced to agree with Imrahil that Denethor's youngest son would be more than capable of assessing the strength of the enemy. However, the part of him that was Strider, disliked intensely the notion of sending Boromir's brother and his friend into such a perilous situation.

With Gimli journeying across Haradwraith to Gondor, Eomer unbidden in his distaste for the manner in which the elves waged their wars and Legolas, so far beyond himself that to Aragorn he might as well have been a stranger, Aragorn had no wish to part company with another friend, be it a spiritual or a physical separation. However, as always, the desires of Strider had to be put aside for the needs of Elessar, king of the Reunified Kingdom. There were days when Aragorn wished his life were not complicated by the trappings of his lineage. At least, then he could do as his heart desired, not as his mind willed. Besides, were he to forbid Faramir from going, the Prince of Ithilien would never forgive him and rightly so. Like his brother, Faramir was a patriot and serving Gondor was more than just a duty but borne of a genuine love for the land of his birth.

Faramir did not look much like a Prince of Ithilien when Aragorn approached him. The Steward of Gondor was dressed in rather non-descript clothes that made him difficult to place. Aragorn knew the garb well. He still owned the clothes he had worn when he was Strider for the occasions when he needed to travel anonymously. Faramir's clothes were in slightly better condition and the combination of dark fabric and hooded cloak seemed to suit the mission he was undertaking. As Aragorn looked upon him, he could very well believe that Faramir was just as capable of vanishing from sight, as Aragorn had been when he was still a Ranger.

"I brought you something," Aragorn announced, carrying in his hand the elven cloak provided to him when the Fellowship had paused through Lothlorien.

"A gift?" Faramir raised his brow as he noted the greyish cloak of elven design in his king's arms.

"Not quite," Aragorn said with a little smile as he handed Faramir the garment. "Consider it a loan. It will help to conceal you when even a Ranger's skill is not enough. This has accompanied me through some perilous times and it served me well. I hope it will do the same for you as well."

Faramir met his gaze, touched by the gesture and once again asked himself in silence what good fortune had brought the king to Gondor in the guise of this noble man. Knowing Aragorn had lessened the pain of losing Boromir and though the king could be overly protective at times, it was good to know that there would be someone to watch his back in battle.

"Thank you," Faramir said with more emotion then he would like to show. "I will return this to you when I have completed my mission."

"The mission is important," Aragorn agreed but added further, "however, do not risk your life unnecessarily because of it. Intelligence has never been worth the weight of a man's life, not to me."

Faramir nodded in understanding and held his king's gaze for a moment. Behind them, the sun was setting quickly into the horizon. Pallando and he had agreed that it would be best if they travelled by night and rested during the day. The travails of the weather was less likely to affect them and the cover of dark would ensure their secret advance into enemy territory be maintained for as long as possible. Faramir saw Eomer approaching in the distance, no doubt the Rohirrim king was coming to bid him farewell and Faramir knew that the opportunity to speak his mind on a particular matter would be lost when Eomer reached them.

"Aragorn," Faramir said quietly, "sometimes when a man is burdened by guilt and anger, he can lose his way. I do not think that the elves are any different. We have held them as the ideals of purity and enlightenment for so long that it is harder for us to accept their imperfections then it is for them to acknowledge them. What was done at Axinar is not to be taken lightly but we have reacted so strongly to it because the deed was committed by an elf. If were it a man who had directed the slaughter, we would be better able to cope because in our hearts, we know our race is capable of such darkness. It is because this deed was carried out by elves that we find it so difficult to bear. Men expect better of elves but we should remember that immortal or not, when they are cut, they bleed the same as we do."

Aragorn stared at Faramir, somewhat taken by the Steward's impassioned statement and could not deny the truth of his words. This was so much harder to bear because Legolas was an elf. Aragorn had become accustomed to the elf's serene manner these past sixty years and this side of Legolas not only shocked the king of Gondor but made him fearful as well. Legolas had always been the one person he could rely upon with unquestioning faith. However, Faramir was right, until Aragorn was able to empathize with Legolas' pain, the elf would continue on his path to self-destruction

"You are far wiser than I," Aragorn found himself saying with admiration.

"Only through experience," Faramir said sadly, "my life is filled with the passing of loved ones who have lost their way."

Aragorn did not ask him to elaborate even though they both knew he was speaking of both Boromir and Denethor. Fortunately, the sombreness of the moment was broken by Eomer's arrival. The king of the Mark approached them with Pallando and Imrahil at his side. The wizard was dressed in robes of sand coloured material and judging by the wide weave of the fabric would serve quite well in the desert heat. Aragorn swept his gaze over the area to see if any one else was coming to see Pallando and Faramir off on their journey and was disappointed when there was not. He knew that it was unlikely that Legolas would appear when everyone was so uneasy around him but Aragorn had hoped secretly that he would nevertheless.

"I see he has given you his cloak," Eomer remarked, noticing the garment in Faramir's hand.

"It is rather bedraggled," Imrahil commented unaware of its history.

"You can see why now I viewed him with such scepticism when he claimed to be the son of Arathorn during our first meeting on the road to Rohan," Eomer joked. 'Isildur's heir indeed."

"You should consider becoming a court jester," Aragorn returned sarcastically, "you are wasted in cavalry."

"The fabric is elven," Pallando declared, observing the cloak with far keener eyes than any other present. "I assume it is enchanted?"

"Not quite enchanted," Aragorn explained, "but it does allow the wearer a certain amount of stealth when the situation requires it."

"Anything that keeps your head attached your neck will be an improvement, nephew," Imrahil replied, looking at the young man with concern.

"I will endeavour to return your property and keep my head and my body in close proximity," Faramir replied with a smile before turning to Pallando, "we should begin our journey wizard, the night is almost upon us."

"Will you be able to find your way in this darkness?" Eomer inquired because unlike Rohan with its rugged mountains and familiar hills, he could not discern one sand dune from another.

"The stars do not change," Pallando answered before Faramir could. "We will keep our eyes upon the stars and allow Varda's light to guide us."

"Safe journey Faramir," Eomer said grabbing the steward's arm. "I will look to the east for your return."

"Ride well Eomer," Faramir returned the greeting with just as much heart felt emotion.

Imrahil gave Faramir, who was son to his only sister, an uncharacteristic embrace when similar sentiments were passed among the company to their departing comrades. Imrahil had been feeling of late that he should not have allowed Denethor's indifferent manner in the wake of Finduilas' death keep him away from his two nephews. Since Denethor's passing, it appeared to the Prince of Dol Amroth that they would have benefited from the association with a family whose affections were a little warmer than it must have been in Denethor's house. Strangely enough, it had not struck him until Lothiriel's arrival at Minas Tirith when she regarded her cousin like a stranger and drove home how much alone Boromir and Faramir must have felt in their youth, explaining somewhat the close bond between the brothers.

The sun had well and truly set in the horizon when Faramir and Pallando finally departed, with Aragorn staring after them as their horses crossed the landscape and disappeared into nothingness. Aragorn did not know how long he remained watching the two figures vanish into the dark and took note in passing when Eomer and Imrahil left to return to their camps. He wondered if he was mellowing with age because he worried greatly for Faramir.

If Pallando were to be harmed, the Istar's soul would return to Mandos. Death was not an inevitability for a Maia but Faramir passing would mean that once again, he had failed to save a son of Denethor. It was not just the oath he had made to Boromir at Parth Galen but also because Faramir was his friend and had behaved with amazing grace in the aftermath of his return to Gondor. In truth, the Steward could have fought him for his kingship but Faramir never did. He saw Aragorn as his king from the first and gave up his claim because it was the right thing to do. Such nobility was rare and Aragorn did not wish to see it wasted by an unnecessary death.

"I have learnt that if you worry too much about the fragility of mortal existence, you will only twist yourself into knots," a familiar voice said next to him.

Aragorn did not turn because there was only one person who could advance upon him without Aragorn having the slightest inkling.

"I did not think you would come," Aragorn said as Legolas stood next to him. The elf's blue eyes were fixed upon the same point as Aragorn's own.

"He was my friend too," Legolas replied with a sigh, "and a member of the Fellowship. Do you think you are the only one who felt guilt over Boromir's death? Gimli and I share the same grief and Faramir is a great deal like him and yet subtly different as well. He is wiser and far more cunning than we give him credit."

In light of what Faramir had said to him before Eomer's arrival, Aragorn could not disagree. "You should have shown yourself," he glanced at Legolas finally, "Faramir would have like to have seen you."

"I think we both know that it is best that I keep my distance for the time being," Legolas returned.

"You think they will be alright?" Aragorn asked, deciding to avoid any difference of opinion at this time by revisiting old territories of discussion.

"I think so," Legolas answered confidently. "Pallando knows the country and Faramir knows the language of stealth. You have been in this realm have you not?"

"I have," Aragorn nodded, "but that was some time ago and I did not delve much further than this into Haradrim territory."

"If you would care to dine with a war monger like myself, I would be happy for the company," Legolas replied meeting his eyes with a hint of anxiety that he might refuse. For the moment at least it appeared that his old friend was back and Aragorn's spirit yearned too much for their friendship this night, to decline the invitation. Perhaps on some level, Legolas was starting to feel his isolation. He had taken the news of Gimli's return to the west under the guise of some crisis at Aglarond, with little comment although Aragorn was certain that Legolas would miss the dwarf's companionship.

"You are not serving lembas again are you?" Aragorn looked at him with a playful smile.

"How can you have lived in Imladris for twenty years and not learn to appreciate lembas?" Legolas retorted as they turned back to the camp together.

"The same way you have been my friend for the past sixty and still have no ability to retain hard spirits," Aragorn returned smoothly.

"Good point," Legolas answered conceding defeat.

"I thought so," Aragorn smirked and decided for tonight at least, they could forget the war and remember they were friends.

For as long as it was possible.

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

For Arwen Evenstar, having her dearest friends share the hospitality of her home while Aragorn was away should have been cause for joy. Marriage ensured that they would always be saying their goodbyes when they each returned to the lands of their husbands' lordship and while the occasions when they saw one another was not as infrequent as it could be, the time spent together was always cherished. They were each women who loved extraordinary men, who in their own way were somewhat extraordinary themselves and had formed a kinship that was no less binding then that shared by their husbands.

Thus whenever Eowyn and Melia came to stay, Arwen was reminded fondly of her youth when she lived in Lothlorien. In those days, she was just another maid in the house of maidens, enjoying camaraderie with others her age who knew her only as Arwen, instead of the Arwen Undomiel, the Evenstar, Elrond's fair daughter. These days, the title had changed to the Queen of Gondor but the need to simply be herself among those who knew her simply as Arwen had not abated. Unfortunately on this occasion, the joy she would have derived from their stay had faded away because of the circumstances of their arrival.

Despite invitations to Rohan, newly wedded Lothiriel of Dol Amroth was determined to remain in Edoras as a gesture to her husband's people that as their new queen, she would not abandon them. Arwen could not fault her decision and admired that delicate young woman for being determined to serve Rohan. However, with all the trouble Edoras had endured in the recent siege, Arwen would have felt a good deal better if Lothiriel were afforded the protection of the White City. Fortunately, Lothiriel was more than capable of protecting herself, if the reports that Arwen had heard about her role in the attack upon Edoras by the Dunlendings was at all true.

Meanwhile, Eowyn who had been forced to journey to Minas Tirith to sit out her pregnancy in the safety of Gondor's capital city, was not impressed at having to abandon her fortress home in the wake of the Battle of the Eastern Eye. While the fortress had withstood the siege by the Easterlings and Haradrim, the mumakil onslaught had inflicted considerable damage to its structure and Arwen could appreciate why Faramir would send her here. Unfortunately, Eowyn was not one to be ordered to hide away in safety especially when she felt it her duty as the Lady of Ithilien to stand her ground. This coupled with the emotional turbulence that came with being in her condition, made Eowyn's mood temperamental to say the least. At last count, she had made at least five maids and two servants flee in terror.

Melia in contrast hardly spoke at all.

Since her arrival in the White City, the lady of Eden Ardhon had remained understandably out of sight. While she emerged from her room to ride her horse Lomelindi and dine with Arwen and Eowyn occasionally, for most part Melia spent a good deal of her time alone. Arwen and Eowyn did not impose themselves upon her because they knew of the ordeal she had endured and understood that Melia needed time to come to terms with her experience. Also, neither of them knew how to approach her regarding a subject that was not only difficult to discuss openly even, among women, but was also impossible to empathize unless one suffered a similar experience.

Seeing Melia in this way disturbed Arwen more than she cared to admit. When her mother Celebrian was returned to them after her abduction by orcs in the Misty Mountains, there was no doubt of what had happened to her during her captivity. Her brothers, Elladan and Elrohir would not say for certain in what condition they had found their mother, particularly to their father, but even Arwen was old enough to discern what everyone suspected. Even when she had returned home, Celebrian's manner had been detached, silent and very much in keeping with how Melia was behaving now. She had sailed across the sea in order to heal and Arwen hoped that she had done so sufficiently by the time Celebrian and her father were finally reunited.

However, there was no Undying Lands for Melia to flee to, no magic salve or words that could make the pain of what she endured disappear. Arwen was not even certain that the violation was what entirely burdened her mind. There was something else eating away inside Melia and try as she might, Arwen did not know how to help her. As Elrond's daughter, she too had her own healer's instincts and it pained the Evenstar considerably to be so helpless when her friend was in such dire need.

"We cannot let her go on this way," Eowyn remarked as they sat on the balcony, watching the day go by in the White City. It was a beautiful afternoon where birds chirped on tree branches and leaves rustled with a slight breeze, a day too beautiful when one remembered that elsewhere, the world was rife with war.

"Eowyn, there is little we can do," Arwen replied, understanding the lady's frustration because she felt it herself, "we can offer her our support but we cannot force her to talk until she is ready."


"How can she heal herself?" Eowyn replied, picking up the cup of hot tea in her hands and took a small sip before declaring," she pines for the child she could not save, as if there was anything she could have done to prevent it. She blames herself for something that is not fault of her own."

"You know that and I know that," Arwen said gently, "perhaps in some way Melia knows it as well but a person's heart and mind seldom speak in instances like this."

"Legolas should not have left her," Eowyn returned acerbically. "It is just like a man to abandon a woman and ride off to deal with his own guilt. He does not think that she might need him, he simply cares for the fact that he must avenge her. What good is the destruction of the Easterlings going to do for Melia? It is likely Legolas will never find the men who actually did the deed, if they are even still alive and it will not bring back the little girl."

The mention of Legolas immediately filled Arwen with her own concerns about the elf. Their friendship had spanned almost three millennia stemming from the days when Legolas would come to stay in Imladris during the summers.

Galadriel had been aware of Thranduil's concerns for his son because the boy was growing up without a mother. Like the doyen she was, Galadriel decided to take matters into her own hands by suggesting Celebrian make an invitation the Woodland king to have his young son come to Imlardis for a visit. Arwen smiled faintly, recalling the conversation that Celebrian and Elrond thought none of their young children could hear, regarding the Prince of Mirkwood's impending visit. Elrond had been reluctant mostly because he and Thranduil were polar opposites and did not think that a son of Thranduil would be any different. However, Celebrian would not be denied and was determined that Legolas would stay with them, putting forth her case with the stubbornness that could only come from a daughter of Galadriel.

Against that sheer will, not even Elrond had been able to refuse.

When Legolas did finally arrive, Arwen had found a rather shy, quiet boy who said little and held everyone at arm's length. He was so different to Elrohir's extroverted personality and Elladan's more sedate but no less confident manner. For the first few days, he had taken to hiding in the woods whenever it was possible to slip away. It appeared that the skill of stealth for which the Woodland elves were renown was something Legolas had possessed with astounding aptitude. Arwen almost laughed out loud when she remembered how Celebrian had taken Elrond's suggestion to tie a bell around the boy's neck so that they could find him.

It took a good deal of time for Arwen to find his hiding places and when she did, she discovered that he was not so much shy as he was accustomed to being alone. Thranduil loved him without doubt but as king, had little time to spend with a son who should have been a wife's responsibility at this early age. It was Arwen who befriended him first and she learnt that there was a great deal of complexity behind those intense blue eyes. She learned that he felt things deeply and when he decided you were his friend, he was loyal beyond reason. Arwen could have easily fallen in love with Legolas but somehow, they both knew that it was not meant to be and remained dear friends instead.

In learning to open his heart to her friendship, he was soon able to let others in as well and for more summers than even she could remember, Legolas had been a regular visitor to Imladris. Arwen knew him far better than possibly anyone alive save Thranduil or perhaps Aragorn. When she went to live in Lothlorien, he had paid regular visits, aware that she missed her father and her brothers. He taught her how to shoot a bow and Arwen was to learn that he had no equal in this skill anywhere in Middle earth.

Ironically enough, it was Legolas who had first brought Arwen the news from Imladris that Elrond had welcomed a human woman and her young son Estel, into his house.

"He is very quiet," Legolas had said to Arwen, "but there is a strength to him. One can just discern its shape behind his eyes."

"Much like you were as a boy," Arwen had pointed out.

"I think you might be right," Legolas smiled faintly, "perhaps that is why I like him so."

Arwen blinked away the memories of the past and looked upon Eowyn in her present. The Lady of Ithilien was starting to show the effects of impending motherhood by the slight swell of her abdomen through the fabric of the lavender shift she was wearing. They say women glowed when they held life in their bodies and though Arwen could not honestly say she felt the least bit luminescent while she had been carrying Eldarion, she could not deny the luster on Eowyn's skin that resembled a fresh rinsed peach under the sunlight.

"It is not his fault Eowyn," Arwen spoke out in Legolas' defense. "He takes things to heart deeply, he always has. I think he is so blinded by his pain and by his perceived responsibility for what happened to Melia that he is unable to think of anything else. I fear for him."

"He was very different at Ithilien," Eowyn pointed out, unable to deny that Arwen's observations regarding Legolas' behavior was very accurate. The elf had not returned to Minas Tirith after the destruction of the Eastern Eye, having chosen to continue ahead into Haradwraith before the others set out. Faramir had remarked that perhaps Legolas ought to have waited, to have at least seen how Melia was faring. However, the elf was more than a little determined to begin his hunt for the enemy. She had noticed the shadow of concern in Faramir's eyes.

"I fear his anger," Arwen confessed, "he does not bear it well."

"Would any man or elf bear it well?" Eowyn looked at her in question.

Arwen could not answer because there was no answer to such a question. It curled in on itself, like a serpent eating its tail into infinity. If Estel were in the position that Legolas now occupied, she had no doubt his reaction would be any different. However, Aragorn was more than accustomed to dealing with his emotions than Legolas who had for as long as she remembered, had hidden them behind a mask of elven calm. He felt things passionately, which was one of the reasons why he was so restrained. Perhaps he knew himself, hot intensely the fury inside him could burn if it were allowed unleashing.

Arwen feared what he could do if his fury was well and truly enraged. The Queen of Gondor prayed that the reports she was hearing of his conduct since Ithilien were exaggerations of the truth because if there were not then war was the least of the Haradrim's problems. It had been burned the history of her people what the elves were capable of when they were unleashed upon the world in fury. Arwen prayed that Melia would never be confronted with the news that her husband may be leading his people on a crusade to murder innocents in her name.

And yet inwardly, remembering the sweet prince who had been her friend for so long, Arwen knew that unless she failed completely in her judgement of Legolas, that was precisely what was going to happen.

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

Across the desert landscape, the land of Haradwraith seemed unrelenting to the unsympathetic eye but to one who was able to see past their reason for being here, there was much to wet the appetite. There was a kind of beauty to the place, harsh and unyielding but distinctly its own, One could see it in the sand dunes and craggy mountains that were so unlike the lushness of the Misty Mountains and the lands of west. As the armies of Gondor, Rohan and the First Born moved across the dunes towards the range of mountains known as the Wall, Aragorn could begin to see it. The people who lived in these lands had to be admired for it could be no easy thing to eke a living in such seemingly barren waste.

Aragorn wished more than anything that the treaty he had set out to forge between the Confederacy and the Reunified Kingdom had come to pass. It would be quite something to learn more about the people who dwelt in this land. Years ago, he had journeyed to the Haradrim realm but what he had learnt was a splinter when one considered the many cultures that inhabited the southern and eastern corners of Middle Earth. All the west had ever known of these realms were that its people served Sauron and Morgoth. Since meeting Melia, they had been given the opportunity to learn that the Easterlings and the Southrons had their own traditions and beliefs. At the failed treaty ceremony, General Castigliari had shown Aragorn that they were also capable of honor and it had been the King of Gondor's deepest wish to see a peace forged between their realms.

Of course that was before Lebethron and Eden Ardhon.

Now there was only once course before them and it was a warrior's course. The peace that he had hoped to establish would only come from more war and with the defeat of the enemy. As much as he knew this had to be done, he despised having to bring the Haradrim and the Easterlings under Gondor's banner in this fashion. Unfortunately, what had been done at Eden Ardhon made any negotiation impossible. The leader of the Confederacy had committed the one crime that elves would not forgive and for that, the First Born were prepared to kill every Haradrim warrior able to raise a sword against them.

The army of men and elves continued their journey deeper into Haradrim territory with a shadow of uneasiness hanging over the heads of all who had seen the destruction of the villages and knew that it was the elves who were responsible. While the armies of Gondor and Rohan were comprised of seasoned soldiers who were disciplined enough to obey orders without question, they could not ignore what they had seen at Axinar and the memory of it forced them to look upon the elves in a different light. Faramir's words haunted Aragorn as he saw his men glancing at the elves with eyes that no longer bore the look of silent awe but rather trepidation.

Faramir was right, Aragorn thought as he led his army. It was far easier to bear the burden of the massacre than it was to know that elves were responsible for it.

And yet the elves had committed the atrocities and there was no denying it. Whether or not they noticed the shift in the way they were perceived by men, Aragorn could not say but knowing the perception of elves, he doubted very much that they were oblivious. The morning after Faramir's departure, Aragorn and Legolas found themselves standing upon the edge of different shores once more, an ocean of pain between them. They had dined together the night before and for a short time, were the companions they had always been. However, with the morning came the same distrust because the face Legolas wore was no longer that of his best friend but rather the cold, angry commander who had ordered the slaughter of innocents.

At night when the army rested and made camp, there was no sound of lively chatter or the camaraderie he was accustomed to hearing in a battle field encampment. Everyone seemed so sedate, speaking in soft voices and threading carefully like it was not sand beneath their feet but rather the fragile substance of unbroken eggshells. Aragorn wondered if the war in which his ancestor Isildur had cut the ring from Sauron's hand had been like this. It could not be easy for two races to integrate into a single fighting force. How had Elendil and Gil-galad overcome this hurdle? However, even as the thought crossed his mind, Aragorn knew that the reason for the pall was not because humans and elves were fighting alongside under the same banner, it was because the elves of this particular conflict had proven themselves to be merciless killers.

And the men of Rohan and Gondor were afraid of them.

The situation was not aided by the discovery upon entering deeper into Haradrim territory that many of villages between them and the wall were summarily abandoned. The armies of Gondor, Rohan and the Eldar would arrive at these communes, usually built around a watering hole and find the town completely emptied of its inhabitants. One after the other, they were confronted with empty homes, vacant streets and the evidence that the villagers had fled quickly. It took no feat of genius to understand what had caused this mass exodus. No doubt after what had been done by the elves, the people of Haradwraith believed that a similar fate awaited for any village that lay in the path of the advancing army. Aragorn wondered how many people had been displaced by this flight and it concerned him where they might have gone since the barren wasteland did not offer many places where a large number of folk could hide.

Fortunately, the question was answered when the army arrived at the city of Cordoba.

In a land filled with sporadic watering holes, Cordoba had been given life because of a small tributary that had somehow carved a path through the passageway of the Splinter to culminate beyond the mountains of the Wall. This position gave Cordoba a certain amount of strategic importance, as it had become the gateway to the Splinter, ensuring that any advancing army would first have to contend with the garrison of soldiers that were stationed within the walls of its high fortress like construction. Unfortunately, in the wake of the recent attacks upon the rest of the country, most of these soldiers were withdrawn to the Sanara Belt to defend the capital cities, leaving only a skeleton force to protect the city walls. However, the void left by departing soldiers was soon filled by the hundreds of people who had flocked to the city, fearing the onslaught of the invading army.

Aragorn stared across the plain and saw the great length of the Wall running from one end of the horizon to the other with Eomer, Legolas and Imrahil next to him astride their own mounts. Unlike the Misty Mountains, the Wall was devoid of lush green forests or high snow covered peaks. The peaks of its ranges appeared as a jagged tear running across the blue sky, with sparse vegetation that were in Gondorian eyes little more than shrubbery. Aragorn could understand why it was called the Wall for the slopes of these mountains were sharp indeed and in some places, appeared to climb straight into the sky in a sheer cliff face. Against it, Cordoba seemed small but Aragorn was not deceived into thinking that the slabs of sandstone that enclosed the city were anything but formidable.

From a distance Cordoba seemed peaceful but Aragorn did not doubt that its inhabitants were aware of their presence. If nothing else, the influx of so many refugees would have given them away long before the armies of the Reunified kingdom made their appearance. Aragorn had no doubt that even as he and his comrades stared across the craggy terrain at the city; sentries placed on the watch towers along the wall were giving out the alarm that the enemy had finally arrived.

"Those walls will not be easy to breach," Eomer stated first as the King of the Mark studied the construction of the fortress. It did not look very different from the fortress of the Eastern Eye which had been formidable to say the least, certainly enough to take the brunt of savage attacks from a number of mumakils.

"And they know we are coming," Imrahil added.

"We must take it," Legolas declared firmly, having no wish to linger on the difficulties when their purpose was clear. "The fortress is large enough to conceal a sizeable force. If we bypass it and continue towards the Wall, we are leaving our rear guard to the possibility of attack."

"Legolas is right," Aragorn nodded in agreement, even if he did not like the calculation in the elf's voice as he made the statement. "We have to take the city but a siege is going to be difficult."

"We have the tools for it," Eomer commented, "however, I do not wish to linger here too long. As you have said, if the Haradrim king wishes to attack, we would be most vulnerable when we are passing through the Splinter. If these people delay our advance…"

"Then the Haradrim king may be able to intercept us with the reinforcements from the Variags and the Easterlings," Aragorn concluded.

"Those walls are capable of fending us off for weeks if they are determined enough," Imrahil pointed out. "I do not wish to waste all our resources attempting to breach that city. We are far from home and no way to acquire reinforcements if they tax us too greatly."

"I say we dam the city and burn it down," Legolas stated promptly.

All eyes turned to the elf in shock, unable to believe that this suggestion had come from Legolas.

"Burn it down?" Aragorn stared at his friend, wondering if he had taken leave of his senses. "That is not a military fortress, it's a city filled with women and children."

"It is an obstacle that we must hurdle if we are continue into the Sanara Belt," Legolas reminded while staring at them as if they were children with no stomach for war. "We dam the flow of the river into Cordoba and begin bombardment with fire and the city will be ours in a matter of hours."

There was no denying the effectiveness of Legolas' plan but it was also extreme and likely to engender the outrage of all the eastern and southern kingdoms that had so far chosen to remain neutral in the conflict.

"No," Aragorn shook his head, refusing to even contemplate such a course of action. "I will not condone such brutality. We are not even certain of what kind of detachment has been left in that fortress. They may not have the soldiers to keep us out and I would rather attempt to negotiate with them before we turn to such brutality."

"You cannot fight this war trying to be noble Aragorn," Legolas declared haughtily and saw the flint in Aragorn's eyes before he wisely softened his words. Aragorn had a warrior's spirit and he was an excellent commander but he was not a man who thirsted for the blood of others even when it was necessary for the greater good. "I know you mean well but you are no novice at this, you know that time is of the essence. We must cross the Splinter before the arrival of the Haradrim reinforcements."

"This has nothing to do with nobility," Eomer interrupted abruptly. "There are women and children in that fortress. To embark upon the course you have suggested would endanger them most of all and inspire even the lowliest, most cowardly man to pick up a sword to avenge them."

"Then we should count ourselves lucky that he showed himself in time to be put down, before he chooses to throw in with the army of the Haradrim king when we leave here," Legolas countered just as sharply.

"Is that all you think about?" Eomer burst out, unable to restrain his anger any further following that statement. "The reason that city is full of women and children is because you and your elves have terrified them into running for their lives. Thanks to Axinar and the others like it, the Haradrim think we're butchers! The possibility of surrendering will not even be considered because they think it will only give us leave to ride in and slaughter them all, not an entirely far fetched notion after seeing what you and your people are capable of!"

"How dare you question my methods!" Legolas hissed. "Thanks to what my people are capable of, we have entered this realm virtually unopposed! The look of war is far different on the ground and we cannot all fight as nobly or appear as kingly as you from your horse! Down here there is blood and sometimes one must spill it in order to win the day! Has that thought escaped the Rohirrim who prefer to defend their people from outside the walls of very high fortresses where the risk to them is minimal? We do not all have a fortress to sequester our people and when we war against those who have harmed our own, we do not mince words with the trivialities. We need to take that city one way or another. The method I propose is not one I would wish upon any folk but it must be done and I would have assumed my comrades had stomach enough for it." He stared at Aragorn and Imrahil in accusation.

"What we have stomach for is not murder," Eomer glared at him.

"Gentlemen," Imrahil stepped in at this point, seeing the gleam of menace in Legolas' eyes. "This avails us nothing."

"Is your intention to kill every man, woman and child in this country?" Eomer asked, ignoring his father-in-law's wise counsel. "That will not remove the stain on Melia's honor. Nothing can."

"Do not bring my wife into this !" Legolas shouted angrily at the mention of Melia's name and the rest of Eomer's accusation, grabbing the horse lord with his fists in readiness to strike. The Rohirrim lord was more than prepared to meet the elf and retaliated in kind. Imrahil had somehow maneuvered himself in between both men trying to separate them. Meanwhile their horses were neighing in protest at their masters' behavior before man and beast were suddenly frozen by an abrupt bellow of rage.

"THAT WILL BE ENOUGH!" Aragorn Elessar fairly roared.

Legolas, Imrahil and Eomer stared at Aragorn who was breathing hard, his face red with anger. The king of Gondor glared back at the trio with narrowed eyes and spoke in a low voice, little more than a growl once he had their undivided attention. "I will hear no more of this bickering from any of you! Do you understand me?" He turned his steel gaze at Eomer. "We are allies in this conflict and until now, I had believed friends as well. I will not have us fighting like children in front of our warriors who rely upon us to keep a cool head upon our shoulders to lead them!"

No one spoke and Aragorn continued to speak, trembling as the words left in a litany of controlled rage.

"We will camp here and in the morn, we will send a message to Cordoba informing its people unless they capitulate and surrender to us, we will begin a siege of incendiary bombardment."

"You cannot…"

"I am not finished," Aragorn cut Eomer off sharply before he continued. "We will give them a day to agree and if they do not, we will give them another day and allow the safe passage of anyone who wishes to leave the city."

"You cannot let them simply walk out!" Legolas exclaimed.

"SAFE PASSAGE I SAID!" Aragorn snarled angrily. "I will agree to your plan but I will not be party to the killing of innocent folk whose only crime is that they chose this city as their sanctuary after you frightened them out of their wits with the possibility of a massacre. If the city does not yield to us in those two days, then we will take those extreme measures that we've discussed but not before then, are we clear?"

"If provision is made for the safe passage of women and children, I will agree," Eomer conceded the point. It was not often that they saw Aragorn in this state of mind and even though they were equals, Eomer could not help be intimidated by his fury.

"Anything that can stop this bickering and bloodshed falls in my favor," Imrahil replied, offering Aragorn a look of sympathy for the difficulties he was enduring on this campaign.

Aragorn turned to Legolas who was connected to his willful gaze with one of their own. Their eyes bore into each other, trying to see who would break first under the tremendous pressure of their hard gaze. In this instance, no one could match Aragorn for sheer will and Legolas broke away first, turning his eyes away to avoid any more of that penetrating glare.

"I will concede to let the women and children go," Legolas replied softly.

"Good," Aragorn replied with a hoarse sigh and dismounted Roheryn. He took the animal by the reins and started to lead it away from the three riders.

"Where are you going?" Imrahil asked Aragorn with concern as both Eomer and Legolas were still recovering from their outburst to feel anything for the king other than a hint of shame.

"Away," Aragorn said quietly. "I need a moment."

He was glad that Imrahil did not question him further because Aragorn needed to catch his breath and prayed that Gimli would return soon with Melia because for the first time in his life, Aragorn had never felt so alone even though he was surrounded by so many.

***********

It did not take long for the army of the alliance to establish itself outside the city of the Cordoba whose awareness of their presence was soon revealed by the number of soldiers that gathered quickly on the wall as they began to set up camp a short distance away. The Haradrim made no effort to emerge from their bastion, deciding to hold position as they observed the enemy taking a clearly offensive position before them. Both armies regarded each other with barely concealed hostility, perfectly aware that there was a kind of protocol to be followed in these affairs and that neither side would attack until the appropriate moment which the Haradrim soon concluded would not be immediate. Instead, they watched the Gondorian foot soldiers, Rohirrim cavalry and elven archers spread out across the plains before them in a giant net, ensuring that though it had not been declared, war almost certainly was upon them.

The night that followed was one of deathly silence with both armies keeping guarded eyes upon each other. In either camp, fortifications were made as Cordoba prepared itself for a siege and Aragorn drafted the message that would be sent to the city's leaders at dawn. He knew that the wording of such documents were important and he crafted it with all the sincerity he could put into the written word, praying that it would convince the enemy that negotiation was possible and that the Reunified Kingdom would not sanction bloodshed if it could be avoided. However, it was difficult for his cause to have any real weight when Gondorian artillerymen were preparing the machines of bombardment. This much, they had learnt at Lossarnach because the Confederacy's assault upon the city had been very effective indeed.

Thanks to dwarf ingenuity, the design of the Haradrim trebuchet was improved for Gondor's purposes and the range and the ability to crumble walls was much improved. The Haradrim watched grimly as soldiers gathered the fodder for these weapons while elven archers sharpened arrows and cast their steely gaze across the distance to see far more clearly than their human counterparts. Aragorn counted no more than several hundred Haradrim soldiers and it was with irony that he remembered how he and the Rohirrim were similarly outnumbered at the battle of Helm's Deep.

At first light, the herald was sent to the walls of Cordoba, to deliver to its leaders the message for a noon meeting in order for their situation to be discussed. Aragorn looked to the meeting with hope, praying that he could convince Cordoba that yielding would not open its people to the slaughter. Undoubtedly, this was what they must believe after the tales of Axinar had returned to them through the fleeing refugees from the villages. Legolas was skeptical that any agreement could be reached and had become more sullen then ever now Eomer had made it clear what his comrades thought of his actions prior to their meeting at the rendezvous.

At noon, with the sun at its highest, Aragorn emerged from his tent and mounted Roheryn once more. Clad in the mail of a king and carrying Anduril in its scabbard, he rode toward the meeting place flanked by Legolas, Eomer and Imrahil. Providing escort was a contingent of elven guards, led by Nunaur whose proficiency as Legolas' bodyguard would ensure that the kings of men accompanying his lord would be similarly protected. They rode to the center of the field, on the flat plain between their encampment and the city of Cordoba and waited. On the walls of the city, the enemy soldiers watched while the armies of the Alliance maintained a presence that ensured that protocols of warfare were observed during this meeting.

The great wooden doors of Cordoba parted just enough for a single file of riders to emerge from its inside. Aragorn had expected to see men astride horses but the beasts that emerged were nothing he had ever seen before and it looked absurd in comparison to a horse. Long ungainly necks, with a decidedly goat like head bobbing upon it. The creatures were larger than horses but their backs were humped and their toes splayed wide and did not at all resemble hooves. Eomer's expression of shock almost made Aragorn smile, while Imrahil and Legolas merely stared with brows raised. Three of these beasts made their way towards the party from the west and perched rather comfortably upon their backs were men who had the look of Haradrim warriors with their red robes and their scimitar weapons hanging from their waists.

"What is it?" Eomer whispered at Aragorn before the trio approached.

"I am not certain," Aragorn answered truthfully, "when I wandered these lands some years before I heard of a creature they called the droma that is the preferred method of travel for the deep desert dwellers, I suppose this could be that beast."

"It does not look very impressive," Eomer replied, his mind filled with questions typical to cavalrymen. "Do you suppose they ride them into battle?"

"I could not say," Aragorn confessed though he could not imagine the fearsome Haradrim warriors entering a battle riding these ridiculous looking creatures.

His curiosity faded however when the Cordoban leaders closed the distance and finally reached their position. The leader was a man not much older than Imrahil however, his brown skin glistened with sweat and showed little signs of age. Beneath the rather elaborate headpiece he was wearing, Aragorn suspected that he had little hair. His facial hair however remained abundant by his beard and by the thick eyebrows over his brown eyes. The rest of him was covered in the customary red worn by most Haradrim and his neck was adorned with gold with one ear pierced. The other two were younger men who resembled the first and Aragorn suspected that they were most likely his sons.

"I am King Elessar," Aragorn introduced himself.

"We know who you are," the man spoke coldly but his eyes were fixed clearly upon Legolas. "You are the king of the Reunified Kingdom, your companions are the lord of Dol Amroth, the horse king of Rohan and," his eyes narrowed as he glared at Legolas, "the butcher of Axinar."

"Lord Legolas of Eden Ardhon if you please," Legolas responded as he stared back at the man stonily.

"Would we have the honor of knowing with whom we are negotiating?" Aragorn interrupted, sensing that this was going to be a futile exercise but was compelled nonetheless to make the effort. Unfortunately, the Cordoban's reaction to Legolas did not bode well for this outcome of these proceedings.

"My name is Satarin," the man introduced himself, "I am First Minister of Cordoba and these are my sons, Oneyros and Caifas."

Acknowledgements were made of these introductions before Aragorn drew a deep breath, hoping his argument could sway this man. As it was, the hatred in his eyes for Legolas ensured that the idea of surrendering would be a difficult proposition at best, if not outright impossible. "First Minister, we have no desire for bloodshed but we must secure your city. If you surrender, you have my word that your people will be treated fairly. No one wants to see needless death here."

Satarin shifted his gaze from Legolas to Aragorn long enough to laugh derisively, "needless bloodshed! Do you think me a fool! I know what was the result of your needless bloodshed at Axinar, Laxor, Bracat and Turazon! I have their women and children here in my city, weeping tales of how the Eldar have done insane, butchering and murdering. This animal here was seen murdering a child!"

Aragorn turned sharply to Legolas in astonishment and saw that the accusation had penetrated the elf's aloof mask and shook the stony expression from his face for a brief instant. However, Legolas was too adept at hiding his emotions to allow the lapse to continue for longer than that and soon the impenetrable veil lowered over his eyes once more. Aragorn however, could not dispel the shock of the news so easily and neither could Eomer and Imrahil who dropped their eyes to the ground because they could not meet Satarin's with anything but horror.

"What was done before," Aragorn said in a low voice, trying to hide just how much Satarin's statement had affected him, "will not occur here. We have no wish to kill innocents but we are at war and your armies were nowhere as considerate when they rode into our lands and butchered and raped our people."

"I cannot say what my king has done with his army," Satarin replied, clearly unmoved by Aragorn's speech. "However, I know what your Eldar allies have done and we will not submit to you. We will not allow you to murder our men who are not all soldiers. Some are farmers, farriers, stable hands, tailors, smiths and craftsmen. You have wiped out the fathers of families who now have no one to provide for them. If you think for one instance I will throw open the gates of my city to let you slaughter them the way you slaughtered the others, then you know less about Haradrim courage than this murdering elf!"

"Enough!" Aragorn shouted, unable to hear that insult once more because he would have to think about what Legolas was accused and this was neither the time nor place for that. "We are assembled here under a banner of truce, I will remind you to afford him the civility due of such an occasion."

"I will offer no civility to a murderer of children," Satarin hissed venomously, "nor I will entertain any idea of peace or surrender, not to one who could condone such behavior, even from an ally."

"And we have no mercy for those who would defend the actions of a king who has committed far worse atrocities than what you are accusing me of," Legolas returned with just as much vehemence. "We will take your city one way or another. I had hoped for the sake of my allies that this could be done amicably but like all the Haradrim, you are poisoned by hatred."

"Legolas enough," Aragorn spoke up trying to keep the talks from turning into a shouting match but it was too late and he knew it.

"You can try but we will make you pay in blood before we yield," Satarin threatened. "While there is breath in my body, we will never surrender not I or any of my sons."

"Then your family will end with you and your sons," Legolas bit back with a gleam of such menace in his eyes that it made Aragorn shudder. "We will take your city and you will be eternally grateful that we were nowhere as brutal as your king was at Eden Ardhon and Lebethron."

"Enough!" Aragorn clutched his arm to silence him. Facing Satarin, he conceded defeat at being able to convince the man of their peaceful intentions and uttered calmly, "I will not take this as your irrefutable answer until you have time to ponder our offer. However, I shall expect a response by the time sun reaches noon tomorrow. If I do not have your surrender, consider yourselves given a further day to remove your women and children for you surely do not want them in the city when we come for you an hour after that time has passed."

Satarin tugging the reins of his mount as he turned back to his city, concluding their 'negotiations' with a chillingly final statement of defiance.

"We will be waiting when you do."

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

Aragorn did not speak until he saw Satarin disappear into Cordoba's walls once more.

He remained on the field where their discussions had failed so disastrously, unable to prompt Roheryn into moving because his thoughts were too filled with horror at what Satarin had revealed to him. Legolas was still staring at the ground unable to meet his gaze while Eomer's expression was unfathomable. Imrahil was quiet, too seasoned the diplomat to show his true feelings but Aragorn, Aragorn could only stare at Legolas aghast because his mind could not accept that his friend, for all that he had seen in Axinar, could have taken a blade to a child. Yet, Legolas' inability to meet his eyes seemed only to confirm the truth of the First Minister's words.

"Is it true?" Aragorn asked after what seemed like an eternity of time. He could not even look at Legolas when he asked the question and the words escaped him through a clenched jaw.

Legolas' voice trembled when he answered, "it was an accident."

"An accident?" Aragorn raised his eyes to the elf's. "How can the murder of a child be an accident?"

"It was not murder," Legolas said and wondered if Aragorn knew what it had been like for him to discover that mistake, to see the blood on his hands and know that the boy's death had forced him unwillingly over a line he had never intended to cross. When he had taken that child's life, Legolas came to the conclusion that he had not only torn apart Melia's soul but his own as well.

"He came up behind me," Legolas whispered, wanting desperately for Aragorn to believe him. Until this moment, Legolas had not comprehended how important it was for his best friend to understand that he had not meant to kill that boy. "I did not realize that he was a child until it was too late. I would never hurt a child intentionally, you know that."

However, Aragorn's eyes betrayed him when he looked at Legolas. Before this war had begun, Legolas was the last person that Aragorn would believe capable of such a brutal act but seeing Axinar and all the villages following it had forced him to alter his perception of the elf. He saw the anguish in Legolas' eyes and wished he had been able to shield his thoughts because the elf really needed his belief and Aragorn was unable to give it.

"I see," Legolas said with a quivering voice, turning away from Aragorn. Digging his heels into Arod's flanks, the horse bolted forward carrying Legolas away from the three men.

Eomer looked up at Aragorn after Legolas had gone, the unfathomable look that Aragorn had been unable to discern earlier had withered away into something that surprised the king of Gondor somewhat when he recognized what it was.

Pity.

"What?" Aragorn demanded of the Rohirrim king, flinching beneath the hard stare Eomer was giving him. Even Imrahil's initial horror had waned and the older man remained silent because he knew not how to counsel the king in this matter.

"I think you should have believed him," Eomer stated to Aragorn's astonishment.

"I would have thought that of all people, you would have been the first to agree with me on this," Aragorn returned sharply, feeling even worse now.

"There is no excuse for what he has done," Eomer replied quietly, "but it does explain greatly what has happened since."

And with that, Eomer rode away leaving Aragorn the terrible suspicion that he had failed his best friend when Legolas had needed him most.

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