CHAPTER 7: RENEWAL
Aragorn stood above the great gates, heedless of the darts of the enemy. As he looked forth he saw the eastern sky grow pale. Then he raised his empty hand, palm outward in token of parley.
The Orcs yelled and jeered. "Come down! Come down!" they cried. "If you wish to speak to us, come down! Bring out your king! We are the fighting Uruk-hai. We will fetch him from his hole, if he does not come. Bring out your skulking king!"
"The king stays or comes at his will," said Aragorn.
"Then what are you doing here?" they answered. "Why do you look out? Do you wish to see the greatness of our army? We are the fighting Uruk-hai."
"I wait for the dawn," said Aragorn.
"What of the dawn?" they jeered. "We do not stop the fight for night or day. We come to kill, by sun or moon. What of the dawn?"
"None knows what the new day shall bring him," said Aragorn. "Get you gone, ere it turns to your evil."
He leapt down from the wall, and the Orcs laughed with loud voices. A hail of darts and arrows whistled through the air behind him, mocking him.
"The end will not be long," said Théoden as Aragorn strode into the Citadel. "But I will not end here, taken like an old badger in a trap. I will bid men sound Helm's horn at dawn, and I will ride forth. Will you ride with me then, son of Arathorn? Maybe we shall cleave a road, or make such an end as will be worth a song - if any be left to sing of us hereafter."
"I will ride with you," said Aragorn.
Taking his leave of the king, he returned to the walls and passed round, rallying the men, lending aid wherever the assault was hot. Blasts of fire leaped up from below shaking the stones. Grappling hooks were hurled, and ladders raised. Again and again the Orcs gained the summit of the second wall and the Riders cast them down.
Aragorn leaned on his sword, surveying their defenses. He looked at the pale stars and at the moon, now sloping behind the western hills that enclosed the valley. He watched the men of the Mark marshal their strength, weary and downhearted, but still with heads held high and spears raised. Pride swelled within him even as he sighed for them all. And always, his eyes swept the battlefield for a glimpse of a flashing battle-axe or the glint of an elven bowstring.
There had been no sign of Gimli or Legolas when he had returned to the Citadel. The last he had seen of them, they were upon the defenses at the Deeping-wall. The men who were there who had escaped Saruman's hell-fire and the fierce fighting at the culvert could tell him nothing certain as to the fate of his two companions, and he only hoped they had managed to keep together and had fled to the caves. His heart was heavy, but there was work to be done and he could not afford to dwell upon emotion.
"This is a night as long as years," said Aragorn. "How long will the day tarry?"
"Dawn is not far off," said Gamling, who had now climbed up beside him. "But dawn will not help us, I fear.
"Yet dawn is ever the hope of men," said Aragorn. His shoulders lifted and his eyes grew hard. "We will make them rue the light, Uruk-hai or no. Come! Let us see to the preparations."
Legolas awoke.
He remained still for a moment, recalling where he was, letting his dreams melt away to reality. He rose quietly, extricating himself from Gimli's arms without waking the Dwarf. He took a few uncertain steps. He was relieved to find that the pain was gone, though he felt still a great heaviness he had not known before. He steadied himself and then dressed swiftly. He took a draught from the store of water and returned to Gimli to sit cross-legged beside him.
Legolas paused. He reached out and tickled the Dwarf's beard with nimble fingers. Gimli stirred and moved his hand to wave away the unwelcome intrusion into his sleep. Legolas smiled at him fondly and studied his companion as he slumbered.
Gimli's face was peaceful. The Elf absorbed the detail of every line upon the scarred and weathered face; he pondered the rich brown hair, the stern brow, the dark beard. Not fair, thought Legolas. This was a face that had seen too many shadowed caverns, too many sorrows, too many battles and all the hardships mortals bore. But it was a profoundly comforting face and good. There was a strength there that touched the Elf's heart.
With great deliberateness, Legolas tipped the cup in his hand and emptied what was left of the tepid water over the Dwarf's head.
Gimli came to with a sputter and shout. He sat upright with an outraged expression, and his eyes fell upon the Elf. Legolas had thrown himself backward and was standing at a safe distance laughing merrily, quite aware of the peril of a rudely awakened Dwarf with an axe within reach.
"Good morning, Gimli," said Legolas. "The Sun does not yet grace the sky, but I did not think you would want to miss the fun the dawn may bring for us." The earth rumbled beneath them as if in response to his words and a thunderous blast echoed in the distance.
The Dwarf muttered words that were much less polite as he shook off sleep. He cast the Elf a disgruntled look. "It seems you are in better spirits this morning."
"Much better." Legolas gave a slight, mocking bow.
"I am very glad to see you on your legs again, but I would ask that you let a Dwarf fully wake before plaguing him with an overabundance of cheerfulness," said Gimli. He gave a mighty yawn and reached for his clothing.
Legolas clasped his cloak over his shoulders and checked his knife ere then tucking it back into its sheath. He was moving slower than was his wont, but steadily. Gimli shrugged his chain mail over his shirt and tugged his boots on his feet. He gingerly fit his helm over his head, trying not to aggravate the wound above his eye. He fetched his battle-axe from the corner and also Legolas's bow and quiver. He approached the Elf.
"I'm stiff and I'm starving, but I suppose I am up for another round of Orc-bashing, if I must be," said Gimli. He swept an appraising look over his companion. "Have you recovered, Legolas?" he asked. "Do not play games. Are you truly well?"
"I feel well enough," said Legolas.
Gimli felt suddenly ill at ease, faced with the Elf there before him, his bright eyes sparkling as if he had never suffered, as if last night were but a fading dream. The Dwarf searched him over and caught still a lingering weariness about the Elf's shoulders and upon his face. He thought he should say something more, perhaps, but all seemed so different this morning, so new, and he could find no words to express it.
Legolas sat upon the storage chest before the door. He took his bow from Gimli's hand, and then strapped his quiver of arrows to his back. He watched the Dwarf, noticing the slight flush that had risen in his face and what became a concentrated effort from Gimli not to look directly at him. Legolas gave a disapproving frown. He stood and retrieved Gimli's cloak from the pallet on the floor, shaking the dust from it. He swept to the Dwarf's side and hurled it about his companion's broad shoulders.
He knelt before him and delicately fastened the leaf brooch at Gimli's throat. He reached up, forcing Gimli to meet his gaze.
"Do not doubt, beloved," said Legolas. He lifted the Dwarf's hand and touched it to his forehead, then to his lips. "I know not what today might bring for us, whether it be death and darkness or light and triumph, but if you will have it, my heart is yours, Gimli."
Gimli looked sadly at the Elf. He closed his eyes as if steeling himself, and when he spoke it was with a heavy voice.
"I cannot ask it of you, Legolas. I will not. I will not bind you to me." He turned his head; he couldn't bear to see those penetrating eyes looking back at him, but he heard Legolas draw a disappointed breath and his stomach clenched painfully in response. "You are not mine, Legolas, and I will not let you pledge yourself to me. I am only a passing curiosity to you. Love between us could come to naught but grief. One desperate night of fumbling in a guard-house cannot change this. Nay, I will not let you do this."
There was silence for an uncomfortable instant. And then Legolas rose to his feet.
"You will not let me?" The Elf's voice was angry and his words were brittle as dry leaves. "It seems to me you have very little say in the matter, Master Dwarf!" Gimli jerked up his head, taken aback by Legolas's sudden manner. There was no jest upon his face. Legolas stood before him, not light and laughing, but tall and fearless, every inch an Elven Lord and his pale face shone.
"You do yourself an injustice, Gimli son of Glóin," said Legolas. "I threatened the Lord Éomer when he insulted your honour, and yet now I am to stand by and allow you to disparage yourself? Do you think I would pledge myself to anyone but the worthiest of friends, the bravest of comrades, the brightest spirit I have ever known? Have no illusions, Gimli; I choose to give my love not lightly! And yet you would find fault with my choice, deem unworthy the one I have come to hold more dearly than my life? You would deny me the right to stand by his side, to share his sorrows and his triumphs as if they were my own?" The Elf lifted his chin willfully and in a stern voice he declared, "I will not give you up that easily. Set aside your pride and misgivings, child of Durin. I have not yet known a Dwarf to lack courage."
Gimli's dark eyes blazed. He drew himself up and made to speak, but Legolas cut him off. "If you refuse me, that is your choice and I shall leave you, Gimli. But if you make that decision out of fear and uncertainty and cowardess, I will not forgive you."
"Enough!" barked Gimli.
"Does the truth of the matter upset you?" demanded Legolas. "Perhaps you care nothing for me. Is my heart wasted? If so, speak it! I shall leave this place and find death upon the battlefield, if that be my fate!"
Gimli stepped forward, quaking with emotion, and stood before the Elf. Legolas did not back away, but remained there unwavering, his expression defiant, as if daring Gimli to strike him. The Dwarf struggled for a moment, hands clenched into fists, and then he cast his helm from his head to the floor with a smash.
They stood silently staring at one another for a long moment, staring daggers, breathing fire.
And then Gimli snorted and shook his head. His mouth twitched, and then he roared with laughter. "Master Elf, at the very least, my life is not dull when you are with me." He tossed a surly glance at Legolas and then turned to retrieve his helm, plunking it back on his head. "There is war enough out there. We need not start one of our own in here." He sighed and sat down upon the chest beside the door. "Very well! We are not given to know our destiny, nor what paths we must travel, nor who we may meet along the way. I have been given companions upon this journey who have become dearer to me than I should ever have guessed they would when we first set out from Rivendell. And it seems that you, son of Thranduil, will be the life or the death of me. So be it! Have your way, though you may come to find such love a cruel jest."
Gimli's face grew troubled once more and he looked up at the Elf somberly. "I will grow old, Legolas," he said. "You must understand this. I will age, and though my life is not as brief as these Men around us, you will still be young and fair when my time has come to leave this earth. Would you be as passionate about your devotion to me then? Even as you walk the lands still in your prime, bound to a Dwarf in his dotage, decrepit in body and mumbling nonsense?"
Legolas arched an eyebrow. "Moreso than you do now? That would be a marvel indeed that I must live to see." Swift and certain, he stepped up to Gimli and stooped before him. He traced the deep lines running from the edge of Gimli's eyes with light fingers, admiring him. "I might ask the same of you, dear friend," he murmured. "Will you become weary of my face and find me unchanging and tiresome as the years pass? I cannot grow old with you, Gimli," he said with soft regret. "Will you love me even then?" The Elf drew near and kissed him. "I will understand if you must turn from this course, but by my soul, I would have you, Gimli. Will you deny me?"
Gimli swallowed and caressed Legolas's face. "The Valar protect me from elves and their confounded persistence," he whispered. "I cannot deny you." He took the Elf's hands in his and held them. "I am and always shall be yours."
Legolas laughed merrily, blinking back tears of joy. Then he sprang away and swept up his bow. He donned his silver helm and nodded. "Come, Glóin's son! The morning awaits, and we have a game to see to its finish. I feel a little more up to the challenge this day. At this moment, in truth, I believe I could face the forces of Saruman alone and triumph."
Gimli shouldered his axe and pack. "I have no doubt you could, Master Elf, but if you would not mind the company, I would like to try my axe on a few more Orc necks. Leave us go. If we tarry longer we will arrive too late and miss the excitement. Let us see what trouble Aragorn has managed to get into without us."
