Let your soul be your guide

Chapter 5

~''~

Seeing to Théodred's last resting place had played its toll on everyone's hearts. The King's only heir was now dead and the kingdom had never face darkest times. The threat of Mordor and Isengard hung heavily over their heads, and Gandalf's warning words about an eminent attack on Edoras, did not bode well.

Rohan and its King needed time to heal, but time was something that they could ill afford.

The sun had already set when Aragorn went in search of his companions. He found Gimli seating in the kitchen, a pitch of ale in one hand and a roasted chicken leg in the other.

"Have you seen Legolas?" the ranger asked when he realized that the elf was nowhere around.

Gimli set the mug on the table and whipped his mouth to his long beard.

"Last I saw him" he belched with an apologetic look on his face, "one of the servants was showing him to our quarters"

~''~

The Golden Halls of Meduseld were bigger inside than what they looked from the outside. After asking for directions to a number of servants, it was the King's niece that ended as a guide for the lost guest.

Éowyn she was named, and from the start, Aragorn could feel the strength in her character, the steely resolve that long had he learned to associate with all of Thingel's house.

"I wanted to thank you for the help you have given us, my Lord Aragorn", she spoke softly while they travelled the long corridors.

"It was nothing" he replied politely, "the credit of freeing your uncle goes to Gandalf… we had little to do with it."

The King's niece smiled sadly.

"Our times have been troubled", she confessed. "To us, you and your companions' arrival was the answer to the prayers we had not dared to voice"

Aragorn refused to meet her eyes. If he had done so, he would have seen in the blue depths the same trust and hope he had seen in Boromir's dying face. A trust and hope that he would play an important part in the events that were yet to come, that he would, somehow, turn their hopes in to a grasping reality.

'I give all my hope to Men… I keep none to myself'

The words were as daunting as his fear of failure, of falling in to the same traps his ancestors had fallen, of showing the same weaknesses when it would matter the most. His presence seemed to give hope to the hearts of Men, and yet, he could not find enough of that feeling for himself.

"We have arrived" Éowyn told him, unaware of the turmoil her words had unleashed.

Aragorn pushed all other thoughts from his mind. Right now, he needed to talk to Legolas, make sure that the elf was all right. All doubts about placing his friend in danger were coming back to haunt him once more. He knew that Gandalf's confrontation with the possessed King would not be a peaceful one, and still he had dragged his friend in to those halls, wrongly assuming that Legolas, being an elf, would still be a match for whatever foes they met, despite his handicap. His friend had almost lost his life because of that mistake and the resulting guilt was eating at Aragorn's heart.

 He opened the door and entered, Éowyn close behind.

"I hope that you and your companions will find everything to your nee.."

The words died in her mouth.

Orders had been given to make the rooms ready for the King's guests, so the chaos that greeted her was not expected. The room looked as if the winds outside had found their way in to this place.

"I must apologize" Legolas voiced from near the large window, his seated silhouette blending with the shadows cast by the heavy curtains that hung from the wall.

Aragorn looked at the destroyed room. Small, everyday objects lay on the floor, broken. A tray had been thrown against the wall, food splattered all over the ancient looking tapestries. But at the moment, none of that registered in the ranger's head. He couldn't believe his eyes. Legolas had done that?

"What happened?"

The elf's face was hidden, but the ranger could hear the embarrassment in his voice.

"I stumbled."

"You… stumbled?" Aragorn repeated slowly, looking at the mess around them. It seemed as if nothing had been left untouched by the wave of destruction.

Legolas could read the disbelief in his friend's tone, but he didn't care to further explain what had happen, mainly because he couldn't understand it himself. He had simply lost control.

The servant that had led him to their quarters had said that his weapons had already been brought ahead. They were on the table, he said before leaving. Legolas had tried to find the white knives, a gift from his father before he had left for Rivendell, but the only thing he met was the furniture's edges, colliding with his legs.

The frustration of not succeeding in a task as simple as that of finding his own weapons had proven to be too much. And he had completely lost control over his anger.

That alone, brought more shame to him than the knowledge that he had, in the rudest of ways, offended his hosts.

"I will see that a another room is made ready for you" Éowyn said, her voice not angered as Legolas had expected, but sad.

The soft murmur of a woman's dress across the floor filled the room before the door was closed. For a moment, Legolas thought that Aragorn had left with her, until he heard his friend's steps crashing the debris on the floor. The sound of water being poured in to a metal basin was followed by his nearing presence.

"Let me see your arm" the ranger said, seating on the floor in front of the elf.

Legolas frowned.

"What for?"

"You are bleeding" Aragorn explained, taking the elf's left arm and unlacing the arm protection on his wrist. Most of the blade had hit the leather cover, but the ranger could see blood soaking the blue sleeve above it.

Now that Aragorn was cleaning it, Legolas could feel the sting of the cut. The sword had been nearer than he had guessed.

"It's true, you know… what Gimli said in the forest" Aragorn slipped in to elvish as he went on working, "your friends are here, by your side… if you allow us to help you"

The ranger wrapped a soft, clean linen cloth around the elf's wrist. Legolas hadn't said a word, but alas, he didn't needed to. Aragorn could see it all in his eyes.

They say eyes are the doors for one's soul. And Legolas' soul was lost in a sea of emotions, the tides too strong too keep anything afloat.

Legolas rose in one fluid movement as soon as the bandage was done, escaping the gaze he could feel burning in to him.

"I shall leave this place"

Aragorn stood from the cold ground and crossed the small distance that separated them.

"I thought we had already come to an agreement about that"

"I place you all at risk!" Legolas said, moving away from his friend, one hand ahead, as he searched for a safe path that would not send him colliding with anything.

Aragorn grabbed that hand. His voice was soft in contrast with Legolas' angered tone.

"No more than we place ourselves."

The elf dropped his head in defeat.

"I would have died today."

There was no accusation in the elf's voice, and Aragorn suspected that his proud friend would have faster feel ashamed of himself, for what he would see as his failure as a warrior, rather than blame the ranger. Even so, the words stung Aragorn's guilty conscious.

Legolas' face, however, registered more surprise than shame or anger, as if he had only now realized that, had it not been for Aragorn's warning, death would have found him this day, completely unaware.

Mortals did not spend their days considering their own mortality and, to immortal beings, that thought was even further away from mind. It wasn't something that they could easily understand or usually associate with their existence.

Legolas had, however, become painfully aware of his own mortality.

"But you didn't" Aragorn simply replied, tightening his hold on the elf's hand, trying to communicate in that simple gesture all he was leaving unsaid. Forgive me. Don't give up, Have faith in us. Have faith in you. Use your strength. Take my strength. 

Legolas' free hand searched his friend's face, his fingers tracing the age lines that had started to grow deeper, the beard he favoured to grow, fierce and soft, as the man himself. Aragorn's face was a map that could be traced with fair accuracy, telling of all the days spent under the sun and stars, of all the laughs shared around a campfire, of all the tears shed for fallen friends, of all the battles won and lost. Such were the faces of Men, opened books that told the story of their lives to any willing to read them.

Legolas could tell, by the slight frown in the man's forehead, that he was worried, but the set of his stubble covered jaw told only of strength and resolution.

"Help me" Legolas voiced the hardest words for him.

And it was all Aragorn needed to hear.

~''~

Despite their lack of time, it took some for the King to take the painful decision of leaving Edoras behind and escape with his people to Helm's Deep, Rohan's long time fortress and refuge.

After so long under Saruman's control, it was hear tearing for Theoden that his first action after such a dark period was one so sad and desperate.

But it was either flee and fight later or stay and be slain by their enemies, for Edoras was a place of meetings and feasts, not a defensive stand.

If anything, after disappointing his people so, Theoden needed to prove his valour as a leader. More than ever, Rohan had to survive.

To empty a city of all its citizens was a matter that also took time, and none of it when wasted by Aragorn. With Gimli's help, they had taken upon themselves the task of helping Legolas in relearning how to fight.

The elf had been a warrior all of his adult life, so, what he now needed, above all, was to adapt to his new condition, change his fighting skills in a way that he could compensate for his lack of sight in battle.

For Legolas, that proved to be the biggest challenge, for a part of him refused to let go off his former self and accept his new limitations.

Elves possessed a natural ability to use their senses to their fullest, sharp tools that, when in battle, allowed them to judge their adversaries moves and strikes in a way that almost resembled a sixth sense. Legolas needed to learn how to still achieve the same but without his sight. And, slowly but steady, Legolas began losing the fear of a blind fight, managing to form in his mind, rather than in his eyes, a picture of what surrounded him.

Éowyn stood at the entrance of the small yard that the three friends had been using for their practices. She had been watching them for a while, mesmerized.

Legolas could be mistaken for an ice sculpture, frozen in the middle of the sunlit square. His eyes were closed, hands relaxed by his side, each holding a wooden short sword, normally used by the younger apprentices, but the only ones that resembled in shape and size the elf's white knives.

Without warning, Aragorn attacked from behind, his speed defying his mortal man condition, broad sword held high. In one quick move, the wooden blade cut through the air, aimed at the elf's neck. One shorter weapon, as Legolas swirled around to face him, met it.

Taking advantage of his opponent's turn, Gimli stroke too, the heavy hammer he'd been using as a weapon ready to strike the elf's backbone. The elven warrior duck low and rolled to the side. The dwarf's axe met Aragorn's blade, as the human attacked again.

Legolas said something that Éowyn couldn't hear and she saw Aragorn smiling at him. Without breaking stride, their movements increased in speed, but for every attack either man or dwarf made, Legolas led an effortless defence, followed by a lightning quick attack.

Gimli lost his hammer with a kick that left his right hand knuckles red raw. The dwarf cursed.

Left alone with a single opponent, man and elf seemed to move even faster, each fighting as Éowyn had never seen before.

The hammer had landed near the wall where Éowyn stood. When a complaining Gimli came to retrieve it, he met her eyes and saw the fire that burned there. There was a warrior inside of this woman, anxious to take part.

With a knowing smile on his face, Gimli directed her gaze to the discarded practice sword on top of a wooden barrel, one of the spares they had taken. Without words, not wanting to alert the elf of their game, Gimli invited her to join them. He knew she was no stranger to this sport, he had seen her practice before.

Éowyn didn't need any better excuse. With a bright shine in her eyes, she picked up the sword and followed Gimli.

A sweaty Aragorn had succeeded in disarming Legolas of one of his wooden knives, forcing the elf to face his weapon with a much shorter blade.

The ranger smiled when he saw Éowyn nearing them. Long had he noticed that underneath her pretty cloths and court rules laid a true Rohan shield maiden, and a brave one too. She would provide a good support to their usual two-against-one sparring sessions with Legolas.

Taking advantage of Aragorn's momentary pause, Legolas pushed the ranger out of balance with two fast moves of his knife and went in search of his fallen blade. Guessing the weapon should be somewhere near him, Legolas quickly scanned the dirt for it. Instead, his fingers brushed upon the wood of his new staff, the one that one of the guards had presented him with, so that he would not damage his Galadhrim bow.

'Just as good' Legolas thought with a smile.

With one knee on the floor, the elf raised his knife holding hand towards Aragorn's descending sword. As the blades clashed with a sturdy wooden sound, Legolas swirled his staff around, catching his attacker's legs and effectively sending the ranger to the ground.

Rising to his full height, Legolas turned to where he could hear Gimli's heavy breathing coming from, as he raced on his short legs to attack again. The dwarf's advantage was, contrary to what most believe, his short figure, for he could strike lower than his opponents, forcing them to change their balance centre.

The heavy hammer cut through the air on Legolas' left side, aimed for his calf. A lightning quick pass of Legolas' staff blocked the attack and send Gimli to join Aragorn on the floor.

Believing all of his opponents were down, Legolas was slightly surprised when the blunt side of another sword hit his right hand, the unexpected pain causing him to lose his second knife. Armed with nothing but the wooden stick, Legolas managed to block his opponent's next blow with ease.

The sound of skirt as his new attacker moved had soon revealed he was fighting a woman. Lady Éowyn, he guessed. Legolas tried to trip her in to falling, using is staff close to the ground as before, but Éowyn had seen the move before and jumped. The elf smiled, pleased with the level of her skill.

Her following attack, however, was her undoing. Raising her sword over her shoulder, Éowyn aimed to strike in strength and disarm the elf. Legolas sense her move and dropped one knee to the floor, the staff between his hands.

Éowyn had not been prepared for such a fast move, and realized her mistake when her sword sunk lower than what she had prepared for. Her balance was lost, leaving her vulnerable to the elf's attack.

The last thing that Éowyn saw was the wooden stick approaching her face.

~''~

Éowyn opened her eyes to a cloud free blue sky, and a tanned face where grey eyes stood out like light beacons.

"Lord Aragorn?" she asked, not doubting to whom those eyes belonged to, but rather confused about why she was laying on the floor.

"Can you seat?"

Éowyn started a nod, but thought better of it when the motion woke a painful throb in her face. She let out a muffled 'yes' as her hand searched her swollen nose. She was glad to find little blood in there.

A hand touched her arm, searching for hers, as she sat. Éowyn looked from the fingers grasping her to Legolas' guilty face.

"I am deeply sorry, my Lady" he said, bowing his head in shame.

The shield maiden blushed as she remembered why she was on the floor. She had embarrassed herself as a warrior.

"There is no need to apologize, master Elf" she grabbed his hand too, "you won. It was a fair fight"

Seeing that the elf was about to protest that, Éowyn closed his lips with a finger.

"It was my decision to enter the fight" she pressed the point, "besides, no harm was done!"

And to prove just that, the Rohan princess rose, brushed her dirty skirt and with a pleasant 'stay well', left them.

Seeing the still concern look in Legolas' face, Aragorn placed a hand on his shoulder.

"Relax, my friend. Her words were sincerely meant, not born of mere politeness"

"Hell of a lass!" Gimli whispered, impressed by the woman's sturdiness and courage. "Fine qualities that one… could've mistaken her by a dwarven lady"

"Minus the beard, I hope," Legolas offered with a concerned look in his face.

The laughter of to males and the curses of another filled the small yard.

~''~

The darkness was so dense that he could almost grasp it, a thick matter that involved the very air around, leaving him breathless.

He knew the place he dwelt in was large and high, for he could hear the deep sound of his footsteps, echoing around the walls as he walked.

He had no idea how he had come to be in such a place. He just was. As if he was part of that blackness and that void of colours had spurred him in to being.

The voice had always been there, but only now did he pay attention to it. The words were blurred, as if coming from very far away and the act of crossing such heavy blackness, left them lacking strength and definition.

He followed the sound of the voice, curious to discover what it was saying to him. He sensed it was important that he understood it.

"Legolas!"

~''~

Legolas woke up to find that the blackness from his dream had not vanished, but the voice had been replaced for one he could understand.

Aragorn was moving around in the room, handing the elf his tunic, cloak and boots.

"Come sleepy head! Gandalf is leaving and he wishes to say farewell"

Aragorn offered his arm, as it had become a habit between them when they were going to somewhere far or needed to get there fast.

They met Gandalf at the stables' entrance. Gimli was with him.

"Well met Aragorn! Legolas!" the wizard greeted them.

Inside of the stables, a blur of people and animals busied with last minute preparations.

"All is ready to move to Helm's Deep today" Gandalf explained, "but a different task awaits me elsewhere"

At the end of the majestic horse settlements, Shadowfax stood alone, waiting.

Gandalf patted the white animal.

"Three hundred lives of men I've walked this earth and now I have no time. But my search will not be in vain."

As it was normal with him, the wizard didn't tell what was on his mind, but the three companions knew how important and urgent Gandalf's mission was for Rohan's survival. Éomer, the cast out Riddermark Marshal, needed to be found and brought back. And if anyone was to succeed in such a task, they knew it would be Gandalf, aided by the great speed of the white steed.

Aragorn waited till the old man had sat comfortably on the horse to hand him his staff.

"Rohan will need you before the end" Gandalf warned the ranger "their defences have to hold!"

Aragorn nodded. He would do his best.

"They will hold," he promised.

"Look to my coming at first light on the fifth day. At dawn, look to the East." the wizard granted in a tone that raised no question.

The Istar sighed, thinking of the long journey ahead. His parting words were for Aragorn and Legolas.

"Do not despair. Remember, the path isn't always clear," he smiled, "but it never fades"

The words might seem vague now, but he knew they would understand when the time was right.

"Farewell!" his words were carried back by the wind, as he galloped away in a blur of white.

~''~