Broken Alliance Chapter 4: Rules of Engagement, a lord of the rings fanfic

Author: Mirrordance

Title: Broken Alliances

Summary: A man kills an elf and starts a chain of revenge-killings, resulting in a war between the races. Now, Aragorn and Legolas must face the only enemy that could make them fall in battle: each other.

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Part 4: Rules of Engagement

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"You say you had nothing to do with this," snapped Aragorn, "well you damn well should have. You are their king. They are your people. And you cannot control them."

"I cannot control my people?" said Thranduil, enraged, "How dare you speak of such a thing when it was your people who had started this massacre?"

The two mighty rulers were alone in Thraduil's hall, though the King of Mirkwood respectfully deigned to sit upon his throne in an effort to project equality, a fair meeting of minds. But Aragorn was angry, fresh from seeing his ruined towns, fresh to his pains, and was aching to fight. Thranduil, on the other hand, was a spring waiting to snap, just as caught up in his indignation, so helpless and frustrated was he over what his men had done.

"All this could have ended yesterday," Aragorn sighed, "I had accepted your sign of peace. And now your fools have raised such a clamor that my people demand nothing less than a war."

"We would eat you alive," said Thranduil darkly.

"We will take most of you with us," retorted Aragorn, insulted.

The two rulers held steel gazes for a breathless moment.

Thranduil relented, sighing. "Sleep on it, Elessar. Your pain is fresh. You do not want this war. Perhaps all that your people need is time to think as well."

"What we need," said Aragorn tightly, "And what I desire, in the very least, is that you turn those rogue soldiers over to me, that they may pay for their crimes in my court, and face a public trial. That may quench my people's thirst for elf-blood, and end the possibility of this war."

"I will not have it," Thranduil argued, "Your people would skin them alive! And my people would find great displeasure in it."

"I see no other recourse—"

The doors to the halls burst open, and one of Thranduil's soldiers said to the King, ~Sire. Some humans along the southern border. They attacked our forests with flame-tipped arrows. The fire is spreading quickly…~

Thranduil looked at Aragorn with eyes wide in anger. ~I find out you have something to do with this…~

~I've been with you all this while,~ said Aragorn, ~And at the heart of this very danger. The idea is preposterous.~

~Then we both have problems with control,~ said Thranduil coldly, ~Excuse me. I must settle the mess your humans have created.~

~Let me aid you,~ Aragorn said sparingly.

~We do not need your help,~ retorted Thranduil.

~I nevertheless desire to give it,~ said Aragorn, ~It's a wide forest, and you would undoubtedly need all the hands you can find. Mine are capable, and true towards helping you. Let me settle the mess my humans have created.~

* * *

~Timber!~

Legolas dodged the falling, burning log, as he quickly maneuvered through the raging forest. A plan had been hastily set; the best climbers would go up some of the trees that are beginning to burn, and cut off the lit branches so that they would not spread to the canopy of the trees beside it. Down upon the ground, they could burn themselves out. The strongest were digging a ditch around the already affected area, also to keep the fire from spreading and to just let it burn away its rage. Others were hastily moving about with pails of water, which wasn't as useful in killing the flames as it was in treating burns or giving refreshment to the ardent workers; elves though they were, the smoke was thick and made the work all the more cumbersome.

A handful of elves had taken to pursue the humans responsible for the razing, but their aid was soon demanded elsewhere; the fire spread quickly in the richly forested land.

Getting a solid grip on the trunk of a tree, Legolas made his way up along the length of it, his sword upon his back. The activity was making his old injuries smart slightly, but he kept moving, and let his concerns lie elsewhere.

He stopped climbing beside a burning branch, and he secured himself as best he could, as he began to hack at the edge of the branch.

~Timber!~ he yelled, as the branch sailed downwards to the ground. He climbed a few steps higher, cut at another branch, and yelled out his warnings. The tree needed more trimmings, and after, Legolas hurriedly descended from it. Breathing heavily from the exertion, he eyed the many other trees yet to climb, and their many branches left to cut.

It was going to be a long night.

* * *

Aragorn coughed deeply, regained his breath for a moment, before picking up his shovel again and continued with his digging. By now, the fire had raged for hours, and he had been working for that same amount of time against it.

Beside him, elves labored intensively, also with his men. It was the way he thought to lend his help; climbing these high old trees was beyond him. Thranduil himself worked with him in the ditch-digging, yelling commands now and then, disturbed once in awhile by his aides who either pleaded with him to stop and rest, or updating him with the progress of the fire-fighting.

Aragorn coughed again, and heard an elf beside him do the same. By now, the smoke had thickened so much, it made for an environment that suited nobody, not even the sturdy frames of the elves. But the dim yellow glow of the flames were receding, darkening the night once more, and that was hope enough for him.

~That's deep enough, King Elessar,~ the elf beside him said politely, ~Let us move on.~

~I'm sorry,~ Aragorn said, ~Our eyes are not as good as yours.~

It was true; he could barely see an arm away from him, and he could not even see his work, or the face of the elf who was speaking to him.

~I know,~ said the elf, ~I will guide you.~

Together they worked, paused for coughs and breaths every once in awhile, though moved ceaselessly until the ditch was perfect and done. They had stepped back to survey their work, and had moved further enough away from the dying fire for the smoke to clear, and for Aragorn to see the face of his companion at last.

~I am Asti,~ said the elf, who seemed almost as old as Thranduil, ~I have watched our Prince grow, and have seen you with him. I prize these lands and these trees, and despise the humans who did this. But you make this anger less acute. It is in knowing you that I could not hate humans completely. If I meet you in battle, I do not think my hands could slay you.~

~Yet we must set such feelings aside,~ Thranduil said suddenly, appearing beside them, ~This is the way of a war. Enter it with finality, and without hesitation. Else all you will have are losses and regrets.~

~Of course, sire,~ murmured Asti, bowing slightly and excusing himself, leaving the two monarchs to discuss their war.

~You do not wish to sleep on this?~ Aragorn asked Thranduil flatly, quoting the elf-king from their past conversation almost verbatim, ~Your pain is fresh. You do not want this war.~

~Do not sass me,~ Thranduil snapped, ~You were right. I see this as our only recourse. At least in an official battle, the rules are clear, the ending definitive.~

~And we can take the fight away from our women and children,~ added Aragorn, ~I do not want this war, you are right as well. But I do not want any more uncontrollable rogues—elf or human—running around wildly with their own brand of justice. We end this with a war.~

~Any who surrender will be kept alive and taken care of,~ said Thranduil, ~We identify ourselves with banners and uniforms. We set a place and time. There will be honor. And order. Whoever is defeated will be treated fairly, and will retreat graciously. We let this bloodlust rest.~

~Agreed,~ said Aragorn softly, ~Let us give each other a few days to recover. I… I wish to send my wife back to Rivendell, with her father. I trust that land will be kept neutral and safe for both our races?~

~As it always was,~ said Thranduil, ~And what of Rohan? They are humans too. Is this their war?~

~As long as they are unharmed,~ Aragorn replied, ~Eomer may find no reason to join it. His loyalty to the race may bring him into our fold, but I guarantee you I will not bring them into this unless they themselves find the need, or desire to.~

~You have always been very wise and fair,~ Thranduil told him approvingly, ~May this end well for all of us. Somehow.~

* * *

~Keep him safe,~ Legolas whispered upon Aragorn's horse, as he personally arranged the saddle for his friend in the quiet stables.

The sun was rising, though it did not give as much hope to him as it used to. All it introduced were partings. And though painful enough as they already were, much more so, this time around.

He handed the reins to the porter, who was watching him perceptively, ~The King Elessar asks for his horse. Take this to him.~

~He needn't.~

Legolas glanced to find Aragorn at the door. He had been caught unawares, so deep was he within his thoughts. Legolas waved the porter away, busied himself with the already-ready horse, as Aragorn walked over to him.

~He is good and ready,~ Legolas said, patting the horse's flank, sinking into trivialities that Aragorn would not allow.

~You weren't even going to say goodbye," Aragorn pointed out.

~I already have,~ Legolas said to him, handing over the reins, ~That was yesterday.~

~It hadn't really been much of one,~ Aragorn commented, taking the weathered leather from his friend's hands. They fell to an awkward silence.

Would things ever be the same between us again, Legolas wondered uneasily.

~Things have been said, that shouldn't have been,~ Aragorn said quietly.

~Do not think about it,~ Legolas told him quickly.

~How could I not?~ said Aragorn.

~Then don't bother to say it,~ said Legolas.

~Time may deprive us of the privilege to waylay such things,~ Aragorn told him, ~I'm sorry. My friend. My brother.~

~I'm sorry too,~ said Legolas quietly, ~We have both been borne away by our hurts.~

Aragorn nodded in acceptance, his fist tightening around the reins, as if he wished to say more, but could not find the words.

~You've heard, from your father…?~ asked Aragorn.

~The war, yes,~ replied Legolas, ~Of course.~

~Be careful,~ Aragorn said.

~And you,~ said Legolas.

~If there was another way…~ said Aragorn haltingly.

~I know,~ said Legolas, ~I know.~

~You seem to know a lot of things,~ Aragorn told him, not finding anything else to say but refusing to leave things as they were.

~We have good ears,~ Legolas said inanely, wincing at the uselessness of what he had just said, though he too, found himself compelled to stay where he was.

~When this is over,~ said Legolas, ~It may be awhile before I could once again come to your kingdom for a visit.~

If I ever do again at all…

~I will live long,~ Aragorn guaranteed him, with a ghost of a smile, that the elf hesitantly returned.

"Sire," one of Aragorn's men appeared by the door, "We are ready to leave as soon as you are."

Aragorn turned back to Legolas, whose face had closed once again.

~Have a safe journey, Estel,~ said the elf, ~I will see you soon.~ The elf winced, feeling that really did not sound right, considering they will next see each other at the opposite sides of a battle.

Although I would rather not see you again at all, thought Aragorn similarly hurtfully, If it is at the other end of my sword.

* * *

The sound of clanking horse's hooves had borne him away long ago, though Legolas still imagined he could hear the fading steps, taking his friend further and further away from him.

Who'd have thought things would come to this…

Alone in his room, he found no solace. The sun had risen up into the skies, and he found its light was profoundly oppressive.

The days are dark, why must you shine?

* * *

Aragorn rode so hard and so furiously, that even his seasoned soldiers struggled to keep up.

He said nothing, and stopped for nothing, as if the faster he went, the more he could escape his thoughts, or what had recently transpired around him.

I'm a fool, he thought bitterly, almost laughing at himself.

He was speeding towards a destination that did not promise much of a future. Perhaps if he slowed down, he would get there later, or things would happen before he arrived and be over by the time he got there.

Could he truly kill an elf, he wondered. It was analogous to asking himself if he could kill his friends. But the war answered a practicality that he could not deny. At least war had rules that they could all uniformly abide by. It was a release of an anger that could not be suppressed, in a controlled manner. But he despised it still.

Why must we all be so vindictive?

He slowed down his horse. It was a foolish, useless idea. But he wished to arrive at this bleak future as late as he could afford to.

* * *

The fires have long since smoldered out, the crowds who had fought to stop it long since retired for the night. The guards were assigned at a distance, and Legolas found himself alone among the gray ruin, tinged with the silver of moonlight.

The trees that were burned had died, of this he was sure. The leaves have burnt out, and the brown barks were singed and heavily black with soot. The ashes beneath his feet stuck to his shoes and clothes, and the smell of the retched smoke still carried by the stirring air was just as relentlessly oppressive.

Asti, and old hand at the palace, had told him that the great Elessar had worked these fields valiantly, alongside the elves. That covered in soot and surrounded by smoke, they all looked the same.

He closed his eyes as he pondered their cruel fates. He loved Aragorn as a brother. And human lives were short enough for an immortal elf to enjoy just as fleeting moments, without these senseless wars to shorten them further.

Had I seen the last I ever would of Aragorn, he wondered, the idea making his heart sting, his eyes water.

I wish I had apologized better, he thought, Or made a joke. I miss his laughter. I wish I had said more.

His regrets were great, and sadly and profoundly useless as he let them swirl around his already-tortured mind. How had he been so unkind? And so misunderstanding? How had they all?

~It has always been said that love and hate are not contrary feelings,~ It was Thranduil's voice, his light steps stopping behind his son, ~They are more of brothers. The more you love, the more you expect, and the stronger you hate when these expectations are not met. The more you love, the more you build between you. And the more there is that is built, the more there is to destroy. The more you once had, the emptier you feel at the end, when it has been taken.~

~You are speaking of elves and men, ada?~ Legolas asked.

~I am speaking of you and Elessar,~ replied Thranduil, ~I noticed you have not been in accord. I know you must be torn. But your loyalties must lie in the right place.~

~I know where my loyalties stand,~ Legolas retorted, ~You must rest easy that I will not betray our people.~ Legolas could have laughed most bitterly; accused of deceit not only by Aragorn a few days ago, now by his own father. And they find him to blame that he is torn when it is they who are confusing everything!

~One day you will be king,~ continued Thranduil, ~And I must say these things to you as a leader to our people. They will count on you being there. They will need you there. You will be their leader one day, and they have to be able to trust--~

~I already know this,~ seethed, Legolas, ~Your doubt is stifling me. Your doubt is stifling me!~

~I do not doubt,~ Thranduil told his son quickly, ~You are responsible, and true. As your king I have to say this: do not betray your people. But as your father… I beg you not to betray yourself.~

Legolas stared at his father, at a loss for words.

~If these contrast each other than you are in a fix,~ sighed Thranduil, ~And you have to decide who you most truly are. Are you our Prince? Or are you just Legolas, with your own loyalties, your own friends?~

~Then let me ask you, ada,~ said Legolas after a moment, ~Have you decided who you are? Are you my King, more than you are my father?~

~I am your father before all else,~ Thranduil told him quietly, for all that this statement meant and implied; Thranduil was telling him not to betray himself. Thranduil was telling him that he could skip this war. That he could leave, and forever be severed from his people, if he truly wanted to keep his ties with Elessar.

~I am no coward,~ said Legolas shakily, ~But this war I could not fight. Not on any side.~

Thranduil closed his eyes, sad but accepting. He engulfed his son in a tight embrace, knowing that after Legolas flies, they most likely would not see each other again. Legolas could not return to the elves from this perceived abandonment. For all that Thranduil himself could forgive, he knew his son's pride, and he knew the elves' fierce rules and loyalty. They would never see each other again, after this silver-gray night.

~I will leave at once,~ Legolas told him quietly, ~Goodbye, ada. I am so sorry.~

TO BE CONTINUED…