Disclaimer: Reading LOTR it is almost unnecessary to write a disclaimer; for only by the use of words it is obvious that I'm no Tolkien. I do not own anything that he wrote or thought up.
19. Sûmob Slaiumlob Mordôrob
That day none of the elves spoke to Thûlocuil. They silently followed her lead, only rarely whispering to each other. Legolas tried to alter the mood but neither his men nor Thûlocuil reacted to any of his remarks. The elf-ranger was more closed than ever, leading them without a word. As alive as she had been yesterday, so withdrawn she was today. How proud she had looked in the morning light, as the day wore on, she looked more and more defeated, like she had given up hope. The words from that morning haunted Legolas. Instead of answers he only had more questions now.
Her mood forced him to reflect on his feelings for her. He was deeply affected, actually hurt himself, by her hurt. It felt like what he had experienced when he had heard the cry of the gulls in Pelagir, riding with Aragorn and the Shadow Host. The things she did, the way she moved; it stirred something deep inside of him. It hurt and it ached. But it also made him determent that he wanted to make this world a place where she could find happiness. The smile on her face when she was battering with Rhovalon last night, or even better, the roguish look in her eyes when they first encountered General Ragnor told him that there was a humorous and relaxed Thûlocuil hidden inside this serious and cautious being. And he felt that it was worth anything he could do to let her surface again.
Thûlocuil was at a loss. From the moment she met Legolas her feelings gradually had become more and more like mud on a training field after rain: slippery, unreliable and unclear. She had built up her life these past twenty years, she had roamed Middle Earth and had been in contact with a lot of its people. She had been asked questions before. Most of the times answering did not bother her, yet she frequently handled the truth creatively. Even to people like Arwen and King Elessar she occasionally did not tell the complete truth, although they just did not ask the wrong questions.
Legolas did. He asked all the questions she could never answer without lying to him or telling him the truth. But she did not want to do either. He, who had been so hurt by the acts of Sauron; had she not seen it in his eyes when he spoke to her about the loss of his friends? She couldn't tell her truth to him nor to anyone. So why, in the name of the Valar, did she wanted to do just that? Why did she wanted to tell him everything? Everything and everything, from the moment of her birth to this walk through the marshes?
When the night fell they rested again on one of the floating islands. They did not make a fire this time and they had double watches again. No-one asked Thûlocuil to take a watch and so she tried to sleep, for she knew she should benefit from the company. Although they were not that friendly anymore, they were no foes and it could be some time before she would have the luxury of a watched camp again. However, sleep was something that would not come easy that night. She just laid stargazing, hearing the soft whispers of the watches, feeling the gentle moves of the island when they were relieved. Although lost in thought and the sky above, she heard someone approach by the time Menelvagor* had reached its zenith. Her hand moved to the hilt of her sword that she kept very close this night.
"Pen albaur megil, egor anírach milui maeth?" (One (does) not need (a) sword unless you desire (a) friendly fight?) Legolas said. Thûlocuil did neither move, nor say anything, so Legolas continued: "I think we can reach the Morn Dant tomorrow..." still only silence. "Gimli will be there, I hope with some of Aragorn's man and maybe some other generals... if they have reached an agreement by now." She remained silent and so did Legolas for a moment. Then he too looked at the stars and softly spoke: "Do you regret our conversation last night? Because I don't want you to think that I might. I want you to know I feel rather the opposite." He heard her release her breath and then her voice came out of the night: "I'm glad for the people of Eryn Lasgalen; they will have a caring and loving king one day. Please stay open to other people even if some may hurt you." He glanced at her and then said: "Only what touches the heart might hurt us." And with that he turned and walked away.
Thûlocuil could hear the beat of her heart like drums in the night. How could she, after some twenty years of seeing men of all races, fall in love with this one? Her first instincts had been right: this elf was dangerous to her very existence! And he didn't know, yet what if he did? He would turn away from me, she thought; and even the thought of that hurts, devastates, because... because... I already love him too much! That night sleep did not come at all for Thûlocuil.
The next day Legolas felt strangely at ease. When they reached Dagorlad, he walked the Battle Plain like he entered his own memories. He had not been here since he stood here with Aragorn and Eomer, with Gandalf and Gimli and an army of less than six thousand to withstand the powers of Mordor. Here they had fought the final battle in the War of the Ring. A battle that, on forehand, had seemed useless. He remembered the moment when all the hosts of Mordor had trembled, the moment that the earth itself had risen under his feet. Here he had witnessed the downfall of the Towers of the Teeth and the crumbling of The Black Gate into the Morn Dant. Here Gandalf had summoned the great eagles to search for Sam and Frodo. In this place he had thought all of Middle Earth would be lost and here he had felt washed over with happiness when Gwaihir, Landroval and Meneldor returned with their precious loads.
When he saw the tents and the flags of Gondor, Ithilien, Rohan and Dol Amroth it was like his memories had come to life before his very eyes. A rider came forth from the camp and halted a few passes from Legolas and Thûlocuil. "Hail Master Warrior and Prince of Eryn Lasgalen, tents have been put up for you and your company, you can rest and refresh. The generals request a meeting at sundown." Thûlocuil answered: "Thank you for your concern, it gives hope to see so many of you gathered here, I'm looking forward to meeting the generals again". She slipped into her 'Master Warrior'-personality: if no-one can touch me, no-one can hurt me, she thought. You were oh so right there Legolas. She smothered the little voice of her heart that said: "Save that it's already too late", mounted her horse and with a nod to Legolas she rode towards the tents.
Legolas also thanked the herald and the man accompanied them to their tents. Legolas followed Thûlocuil with his eyes, but soon she disappeared between the tents and from his view. Being a captain, he got his own tent, and yet, on entering, he found it already occupied: on the cot sat Gimli. He was carefully whetting his axe with a whetstone, his short legs dangling over the bedside. The dwarf looked up inquisitively when Legolas entered. "Twenty seven" Legolas said and put down his bow and quiver. "You had more luck than I: only four!" a bit of disappointment was on the rim of Gimli's voice. Since they started this at Helm's Deep they always compared their slain adversaries. "But I heard you not only got lucky fighting orcs..." Gimli continued his whetting while speaking. Legolas stopped unbuckling the belt that hold his long knives and stared at his short friend. "Meaning?" "Well, you entered this camp in the company of a certain she-elf, didn't you?" Gimli closely eyed the blade of his axe and discovering a virtually non-existent burr on it, he started whetting it again. "Meaning?" Legolas repeated. "Well, you probably had some time to ask questions, didn't you?" Legolas did not answer, but slowly continued stripping himself of his armour. "So, you did." Gimli stated. Reluctantly Legolas gave in: "Since otherwise you'll probably hear this from someone else and they'll just lay it on..." he gave a short account of their journey. But whereas he presumed his men to lay it on, he himself laid quite a bit off. When he had finished his tale, he had put on clean clothes and was lying back on the bed. Gimli carefully tried the sharpness of his axe with his callused thump. Content, he sighed, lowered his axe to his lap and said: "You were right about one thing Legolas; you did ask the wrong question!" "Meaning?" Legolas said once more. "What is so interesting about where she learned to speak that tongue?" "Meaning?" Legolas repeated, raising not only his eyebrow but also himself on his elbow and eyeing his dwarf-friend. "You are using the full range of your broad vocabulary today, are you master-elf?" The dwarf smirked: "Meaning: what if you had asked the question I told you to ask: whether she likes you or not, would that not have made all the other questions insignificant? Would you then still be so eager to know all the other answers?" And when Legolas with a thud fell back on the bed, he continued: "Yeah! You think about that now for a while!" He muttered on: "Elves! I know why you live an eternity; you need it because you make things so complicated, you'll need an eternity to clear them up again!" Legolas got up to a full sit this time and started angrily: "And what if she was on Sauron's side during The War? Or what if she was tortured by him or his servants? What if she has something to do with the downfall of Eregion? What if..." But he was boldly interrupted by his friend. "Yeah, yeah, yeah what if all your 'what ifs' are true? What if she has a nasty secret? What then Legolas? What if you know a bit more and think a bit less, eh?" and then Gimli's tone became suddenly softer and kinder, he brought his face close to Legolas's, looked him in the eyes and said: "What if you had asked this question Legolas? What if she had given you a positive response? Would that not have whirled away all your 'what ifs' or at least made an entry for you to get some answers?" He kept their gaze locked for a moment and then, as sudden as the intimate mood had appeared, it vanished again. Gimli eyed the blade of his axe once more and he continued light-hearted: "Gladly I'm a dwarf and have nor the time nor the will to wander on 'what ifs'. So what do you say to: What if we get a bit to eat and after that I'll smoke a pipe and you'll think just a bit more and then we'll attend the meeting?" and with that he took his axe and left the tent.
They did as planned. Only while smoking Gimli was forced to answer Legolas's questions about his travel to Minas Tirith and the Morn Dant. Aragorn had trusted his old friends' judgement without a doubt but, like Gimli predicted, he also was reluctant to offend his generals by sending too many men with Gimli. So he let some thirty of his most skilled men join Gimli. This had a side-effect: hearing of the men that Aragorn sent with his old friend, the generals decided that they could also continue their debates near the Morn Dant. Messengers were sent to Edoras, Minas Ithil, Minas Thirith and Dol Amroth and they moved their tents to Dagorlad.
In his turn Legolas told Gimli that his father had an army of dwarves ready when they were needed. All Gimli had to do was send word.
Gimli and Legolas went to the same big tent in the middle of the camp when the sun set. There they met with the thirteen generals again and also with Thûlocuil.
When they were all seated, one of the generals rose and welcomed everybody. He introduced all those present. Then he stated what they already knew: an increasing amount of orcs where roaming Ithilien and Mirkwood. Even from Rohan there were reports of plundering orcs. The creatures seemed to randomly attack villages and murder people and animals. Where they came from and the reason for their increased activities no one could tell. The generals had made guesses and assumptions, but that had not got them far. When the first speaker sat down he asked Legolas and then Gimli and finally Thûlocuil to share with them what they knew. Legolas told them about the orcs they had met during their journey, Gimli told Aragorn's point of view: to strike any evil before it became more powerful. Thûlocuil told them she had found out that the main host of orcs was still in Mordor. "They have strongholds in Udûn, but mostly they hide in tunnels and holes in the defiles of the Ash Mountains, but not near that place where once stood Barad-dûr; they avoid that area at all costs." One of the generals asked if they would ever be able to defeat any army, even small, if it was hiding in tunnels and holes only known to the locals; those very orcs. "I do not like sending my men into an orc-trap, and that's just what this sounds like." "I wouldn't ask you or your men to walk into a trap if there was no necessity," Thûlocuil answered. "Luckily, some already found it a necessity some years ago, and from their information I can draw you a map of the main tunnels and holes. I think we could seal the majority of their exits and at the others wait for them while some of us rout them out." There was a discussion about the feasibility of these plans, but most of the generals were willing to at least try. Then another general spoke up: "I think there might be a change for success if we know what drives these creatures. They seem to have a mission. It is not like them to work together like they do now, at least not without a leader." When he sat down, another one rose, he was from Dol Amroth, his name was Pharazbâr, for his hair was the colour of a cornfield just before the harvest. "I have heard all your assumptions for several days. As you know, our Lord Imrahil is a direct descendant from Galador Half-elven. And from the days of Galador there is a legend about these days; that is the days after the fall of the Zigûrun, the Wizard Sauron. It is written that when the Zigûrun falls, an Heir will rise from the ashes of his realm. This Heir will bring prosperity and new live to his realm. We believe that it is him that these creatures are looking for throughout Middle Earth. They have no leader, they are searching for one. They are searching the Heir of Sauron, the new leader of Mordor." All were silent. Then one of them said: "Are we going to believe in vague stories from shadowy times? Are we to take council in old women's talk?" It looked like another discussion would start when a soft, honeysweet voice said: "Now, now, let's not judge in advance. I've heard a legend only some days ago that tallies with this lore from older days." All turned their heads to look at the speaker. It was Ragnor. He first looked at Legolas, then at Gimli and finally his eyes turned to Thûlocuil. "So we meet again 'Master Warrior'." he mocked, "But you are a master indeed, having so much information that we, simple man, are not able to gather. You can draw us a map of the secret hiding places anytime we want. You no doubt have entered them yourself and slew a large number of orcs all by yourself. And the fact that you speak the Black Speech like a native, is just very convenient, isn't it?" Legolas went pale, one of his man had talked with this puffed up 'I'm the man'-general, whoever did that would have to justify himself!
Thûlocuil did not even blink. "Well, like I told somebody not so long ago, I prefer to know my enemy instead of stupidly rush in. I do not want to think where my enemy is, what he is doing or why he does it, I want to know! I guess it's a Ranger-thing" Legolas did not know what to think. First it seemed like she was putting him coldly in his place, then she used, of all phrases, this one! Ragnor did not seem impressed. "Ah, yes, the mysterious ranger-elf-warrior identity. How strange that we did not hear from you during The War 'Master Warrior'. You are what, at least 2000 years old? Where were you during the war, you, who seem now so eager to lead good men to unholy places like orcslairs and dark and obscure holes? Where and how did you learn to speak that filthy language so fluently? Who taught you 'Master Warrior'?" Wrong question! Legolas thought. Thûlocuil got up, looked round the circle and said: "Twice I was stupid enough to try and reunite the people of Middle Earth against a rising darkness. I will not try again." She turned and walked away when Ragnor jumped from his chair and blocked her path. "Wait! You did not hear the legend I was talking about. Is your name not Thûlocuil? Breath of Life? Is it not Thûlocuil O'Môr? Or should I say: Sûmob Slaiumlob or even better: Sûmob Slaiumlob Mordôrob? It doesn't matter, it all means the same: Breath of life of MORDOR! And did not the Dark Lord himself call you so? Didn't he? Are you sure you're not the one they are looking for?" Thûlocuil looked him in the eyes, then without a word stepped past him and left. If Ragnor had accidentally set off one of Gandalf's famous fireworks inside the tent, the devastation would not have been greater nor would the racket.
No one noticed the Prince of Eryn Lasgalen slipping away. He knew where the horses were kept and there he sat down on the fence that kept them from wandering through the camp. He did not have to wait long. She had not taken any time to change and was still wearing the long, rust-coloured tunic she had worn to the meeting. She saddled her horse and hung her sword and a shield, it was a Gondorian one this time, Legolas noticed, on her saddle. Then she drew a breath, took one look at him and mounted.
He took the reigns. "Tell me that it is not true." he said, looking at her. Her eyes wandered away from his face, towards the Morn Dant and the mountains. But she did not say anything. "Tell me!" Legolas repeated, his voice sounding desperate. "Tell me something, anything! Tell me this man was lying!" But she just sat in her saddle, quiet. Legolas bowed his head. He knew she uttered that name to the Uruk. Slowly his hand let go of the reigns. The horse began to move. When she was almost past him she whispered: "Bain men, Legolas; elin sílar am i meth o men." and with that she urged her horse into a trot.
[Fair road Legolas, may the stars shine upon the end of your road; the last part is from LOTR, FOTR chapter III]
*Menelvagor, the Swordsman of the Sky, is the constellation of stars that today is called Orion.
A/N: Reviewers thank you so much!
Kalenniphredel: I too hope you find inspiration again. I really like to know how she will manage.
Es: Thanks for your review, glad you like it.
Albinofrog88: Thank you.
13 September 2003: changed some spelling.
