Chapter 7
~''~
It wasn't hard for Gimli to find Legolas. He needed but to follow the sound of his song. Although the words were a mystery to him, the sadness that poured from the beautiful melody was familiar. He had heard it before, in the woods of Lorien. A lament, for Aragorn this time.
"Your song eases my heart." Gimli said when Legolas' voice faded in to silence.
"Pity it fails to ease mine."
Silent tears that he didn't bother to wipe, ran down his fair face. "I would be left alone, if you please".
The dwarf ignored him. This was no time to respect his wishes; this was a time for friends to support each other. Gimli took a step forward to seat near Legolas on the edge of the outer wall, but thought better of it when he realized just how high that wall stood.
From that point, the plains of Rohan stretched for miles around. Groups of refugees were still arriving at the keep, their feet raising tiny clouds of dusts at a distance. Beyond them, the snow-capped mountains surrounded the valley, their peaks catching the last sunrays in tones of red and gold. Ageless monuments, untouched and untouchable by the troubles of those who walked in their shadow.
"It wasn't your fault lad." Gimli said when the silence became too heavy to stand.
"You heard the orc's words." Legolas whispered.
"An orc!" Gimli spat, "And you would believe in the words of an orc, when you know, as well as I do, that nothing brings them more pleasure than to torment one of your kind?!"
"Can you prove him wrong?"
"I..." Gimli knew not what to say. Truly he had not seen where the elf's last arrows had hit. "That's not the point! That warg beast killed Aragorn, not you!"
"The warg I failed to stop…"
Gimli felt ready to strike the elf. It was like trying to break stone with a feather!
"You failed! … I failed!" he snarled, "We all failed!"
Gimli took a deep breath, trying to calm his temper. Patience was not the best of dwarfish virtues. "It's the way things are… they do not always work as we wanted them to and no matter how hard we try, we all have our failures to face!"
Legolas turned in his direction, a cold smile in his lips.
"And how would your dwarfish wisdom advise me to face the fact that I have killed a friend?"
Gimli threw his hands in the air. No matter what he said, the elf would find a way back in to his own self-pity.
"Stubborn elf!" he mumbled, storming away.
~''~
The sun was lazily braking through the snow peaked mountains, giving birth to a new day.
Éowyn had searched for Gimli everywhere, but now realized that she should have started by the kitchen. The dwarf was half lying on the table, looking like he had spent a good part of the night trying to drown his grief in ale.
"Master Dwarf," she said, slightly out of breath, "you must come with me quickly!"
Gimli raised an eyelid with effort.
"Are we under attack?" he asked in a slurred voice.
Éowyn took the ale from his hands.
"Legolas is leaving." she explained, "He asked for his horse."
Gimli took the mug back and quaffed the rest of the drink.
"And why should that concern me?"
The woman sighed.
"The people are frightened as it is… if they see him go, they will despair!" she pleaded the dwarf to understand. Their arrival had been a sign of hope, the only ones to come to their aid. They had lost Aragorn… to see another leaving would be a hard blow to the people' spirits.
Gimli wasn't drunk enough to not see the truth in her words. He placed the empty mug on the wooden table and rose slowly, waiting to see how hard would the world tilt. When it finally stopped, he rubbed his tired and sleepy eyes and adjusted his chain mail over his chest. "I'll talk to the elf."
~'~
Gimli could not understand how he had passed from hate of all elvish things to Legolas' caretaker. He knew the elf was suffering for their friend's loss, but by Aulë, so was he!
No, he reasoned, not in the same way. He had learned many things about Legolas and his kind since joining the Fellowship. And he now knew them to be special creatures that not only had a different understanding of all things in Middle-Earth, but also a different way of feeling them. A deeper, unforgiving way that, when too strong to bear, could even take them away from this shores.
Legolas had once told him that Elves possessed extraordinary long memories, able to remember events that had took place ages ago as if they had happened the eve before.
Amongst his own kin, Gimli knew and understood grief. When one was lost, all suffered and mourn his passing, but eventually, with few exceptions, life would move on. The ones gone were never forgotten, but the pain of their deaths eventually ebbed away.
Gimli tried to imagine how it would be like to be unable to do so, to carry inside your heart that pain and lost always as fresh as it was in the beginning, a wound, raw and unclosed until the end of times. The dwarf shuddered at the thought, knowing he could never fully understand what it would be like for an immortal being to suffer so, but his mortal heart understood one thing. He had lost a friend this day… he would make sure he would not lose another!
Quickening his short steps, Gimli soon arrived at the keep's gates.
Among all who were still arriving, it was fairly easy to locate the single figure walking out.
"Where do you think you're going?"
Gimli's voice stopped the elf.
"And why should that be a business of yours?" Legolas asked in annoyance, ignoring the dwarf and walking away with Arod quietly trotting behind him.
"Because I care."
Legolas stopped again, his hand searching the horse's warm mane, the steady heartbeat in the strong neck acting as a smoothing balm for the emotions and memories he had been fighting through all the night.
"I need to find answers to my questions." he finally said. "My heart is heavy with grief and doubts and I cannot bear its weight under these walls. As I am now, I would be of no use to anyone in the coming battle."
Gimli approached him. The people that passed by them ignored the strange pair.
"You were going in search of his body?"
Legolas nodded.
"And how did you intend to achieve such a task?"
"Arod will help me." the elf said, patting the proud animal.
Gimli shook his head.
"You're being a fool."
The elf's face hardened.
"And you are drunk." He could smell the ale in the other's breath.
"Aye… but you're still being a fool."
Legolas grasped the horse's reins, ready to get on his way.
"You will not stop me!"
"Stop you?" Gimli said, his eyebrow rising, "Nay, I plan to join you!"
The elf looked confused.
"We can't both leave the Rohans now… they will need you here."
Gimli shook his head.
"Nonsense! We will have to make haste, I know, but we can go and be back before aught happens… besides, you will never succeed in that fool's errand of yours without me!" Gimli said, enjoying Legolas' surprised face. "Now, do we ride this beast or do you plan to just walk him around?"
Legolas knew Gimli was right. And a smile spread across his lips for the support the stout creature was showing towards him.
"Let us waste no more time then!" he said, mounting on the horse and offering his hand to his friend.
~'~
Aragorn had no real recollection of what had happened after he had fallen off that cliff. He figured he must have hit some body of water, probably the river he could hear nearby. His clothes were still damp and cold, and he had no idea how his horse had found him, or how he had come to be ridding him.
He trusted Hasufel to know his way to Helm's Deep, as his mind dived in and out of conscious thought.
The day was already fading when the ranger managed to stay alert long enough to seat straight on top of the horse and look at the surrounding plains. Behind him, the river's waters shinned like diamantes as sunlight hit it, showing the snake-like path it traced across the desert plains. In front, the terrain became rockier, with small hills and high mountains sprouting from the earth like mushrooms.
They were trotting alongside the river, guiding themselves by its course as the sun begun to dip behind the distant mountains, following the slope of a hill that gave birth to a deep ravine. Below him, hundreds of lights littered the ground, as if sky and earth had switched places. The sound of metal echoing through the rock walls reached his ears in a harsh murmur.
The army Uruks stretched as far as his eyes could see in the growing darkness. An army marching towards Helm's Deep.
Silently leading his horse away from the camp bellow, Aragorn asked Hasufel to make haste to the keep. Théoden had to be warned about this.
Racing throughout the night, they reached the fort before the sun broke through the eastern hills, the blood red sky announcing its arrival soon.
The ranger hurried through the front gates at full gallop. The startled faces that greeted him along the way seemed to be gazing upon a ghost. Aragorn realized that they must have thought him dead.
A woman's gasp turned his attention to Éowyn, as she crossed his way on the steps to the grand hall.
"Lord Aragorn," she breathed out, her pale face lighting with a smile "you live!"
The ranger bowed in appreciation for her concern.
"My Lady… Where is the King? I must speak to him with all haste"
"He is in the hall." she pointed up.
Aragorn took two more hurried steps before stopping again and turning to her.
"Lady Éowyn… have you seen my companions? Legolas and Gimli?" he asked.
The woman refused to meet his gray eyes.
"Are they well?" his voice was now laced with concern, "Please my Lady, you must tell me!"
"They left, yesterday eve" she finally said.
"Left?" he asked, confused, "At this hour?"
But Éowyn could not answer, nor could she understand. To the ranger, it seemed odd for both elf and dwarf to turn their backs on these people when they needed them the most. He trusted them to have their reasons. For his part, he needed to warn the King. Defenses had to be planned, the warriors had to be ready. War would be upon them all too soon.
~'~
"Do you even know where to start?" Gimli asked the elf ridding in front of him.
"Arod is taking us to where the river's bank is shallower… there is a good chance we'll find him there" Legolas explained.
Gimli mumbled something about trusting too much in beasts and held on to the elf with all of his strength, in his lips a pray to Aulë, protector of all dwarves who didn't like speeding horses and crazy elves.
Arod was not a large horse, he could even be considered small by Rohan standards, but his speed, especially in the hands of an elf, almost rivaled Shadowfax's. Speed that aided them to reach the river's shore by nightfall.
"Great evil has passed through here." Legolas whispered, "It still lingers not too far."
The horse seemed to sense it as well, his back tense under the two riders, nostrils flaring with hot breath. Gimli shifted and twisted behind Legolas, trying to see anything that could remotely be their friend's body, grim task as it was. The moon in the sky was still too small in form to provide much light, leaving Gimli almost as blind as the elf.
"This is foolish" Gimli complained, "We could be passing right beside him, and still see aught!"
"He's not here." Legolas said with a confidence that made Gimli's brow rise.
"And I suppose the horse tol…" the dwarf's voice faded away and his grip on Legolas' tunic tightened.
"What is it?" the elf asked, "What do you see?"
"Lights."
Leaving Arod by the river, the two companions silently made their way towards the firelights that Gimli could see at a distance.
"An Uruk-hai camp." he whispered.
"How many?"
Gimli tried to guess a number, but from where they stood he couldn't even see the end of the camp, stretching towards the ravine.
"Too many," he finally said, "and if they continue to follow this path, there is only one place they could be heading…"
"We must warn the king!"
"Aye." Gimli agreed. In the camp ahead, he could see some fight brewing between an orc and one of the uruk-hai. Their crescendo screeching echoed through out the valley's throat.
Alerted by the commotion, the group of orcs that had been standing watch nearer to the river, abandoned their post to join the quarrel. Before they got there, however, their attention was caught by something else.
They say Elves reflect the light of the stars and the moon, but so long had Gimli traveled with his elven companion that he had stopped taking notice of such thing. The orcs noticed though.
A shout of 'elf!' that showed how much hatred there was towards Elven kind, brought all the orcs' attention to the two spies. Legolas and Gimli found themselves trapped between the Uruk camp and the watchers group.
"Bullocks!" Gimli cursed.
Taking their chances with the smaller group, the two warriors raced to meet them head on, their weapons drawled.
As the first blades met, the sound of metal and screams of the felled orcs fending the silent night, Legolas called for Arod. They needed to make their way soon, before the rest of the camp joined the fight and they lost any chance of escaping.
Fighting back to back, the two friends struggled to clear a safe path for the horse. And he did not fail them.
The Uruks from the camp were getting too near, arrows flying through the air and landing too short a distance from elf and dwarf.
"Get on the horse!" Legolas shouted, his blades slashing around, covering Gimli's back.
The dwarf didn't leave his side. The horse was too tall for him to be able to mount on his own.
"You go!" he shouted back. His axe swung around, catching the chests of two orcs. The fight was so close handed that he could no longer tell which blood was his and which belonged to his enemies.
Legolas kicked the nearest orc in his stomach and cut off the hand of another coming behind the first one. The Uruk archers' aim was getting better as they got closer, and the elf feared that some lost arrow might struck Arod, him being a larger target. If they lost the horse, they would both be doomed. He had led them there; he had brought this upon them. And he would not let another friend die because of his mistakes.
Grabbing the dwarf by his chain mail and breeches, Legolas threw him on top of the horse like a sack of potatoes, turning his back on their enemies.
The orc that had been kicked by the elf didn't waste his chance, his black sword turning red as it crossed the elf's back. A piece of Legolas cloak fell to the ground.
Gimli was furious, cursing the foolishness of all elves and this one in particular. He never heard Legolas' sharp intake of breath.
Legolas turned, his blades once more in his hands and beheaded the orc standing behind him, hearing the other's sword clashing to the ground. At a short distance, he could hear more armored Orcs and Uruk-hai, closing in on them. Wasting no more time, Legolas jumped on to Arod's back, in front of the fuming dwarf and urged the horse away.
"Ride fast mellon… make haste to Helm's Deep. Stop for nothing!" he whispered in elvish.
Arod rode fast indeed, getting them out of the arrows' range. The orcs didn't bother to chase them. They knew they would never catch their prey now. They had no need to keep their forces a secret. The more frightened their victims were, the easier their victory would be.
"Just what did you think you were doing back there?" an angry Gimli asked as soon as they were far enough for Arod to slow down and for him to ease his grip on the elf. "I am not a barrel of ale to be tossed around!"
Legolas tried to fight the pain in his back, but was having little success. Already could he feel his grasp on reality slipping away.
"I am sorry." he whispered, "I am sorry we failed to find Aragorn, and I am sorry to have failed him… but I won't be sorry for bringing you to safety"
Gimli frowned. The elf's voice seemed odd, spaced out and too carefully phrased, as if he was having trouble in mouthing the words.
"Are you alright lad?" he asked, concerned.
"I shall never know Ara…" Legolas' voice faded away as the elf's upper body fell forward.
"Legolas?" Gimli instinctively grabbed the elf. He got no response back. What little light the stars provided in that night was enough for the dwarf to see Legolas' cut cloak and the glittering dark wetness that covered most of his back. Gimli sniffed it. The smell of rusty iron couldn't be mistaken. "Blood!"
Gimli tightened his hold on the elf, struggling to grasp both his tunic and the fallen reins. "Damn you lad!" he cursed in angst, "Damn you for the fool that you are!"
Knowing that if he stopped to tend to the wound he would never get neither him nor the elf back on the horse, Gimli trusted Arod and urged him to lead them swiftly to the Rohan keep.
~'~
The place seemed to have no end, and as he moved further and further ahead to follow the voice, the air felt increasable dense, more oppressing than ever.
His lungs screamed for fresh air, but all he could offer them was the spur of this contaminated darkness, a dusty feeling that seemed to engulf all.
Still, he followed the incomprehensible voice, trapped in its mysterious words. Sometimes, the voice would seem near to him, almost within his grasp… others it stood so far he could barely hear it.
Legolas had tried calling to the owner's voice. But only the echo of his own words answered him.
He was tired… so tired. As if his life had been ten thousand times longer and time passed ten thousand times slower than what it should. The voice called to him, but he did not follow. He felt too tired to keep on going.
~'~
When the sentinels at the gate first saw the light colored horse ridding through the plains, they had initially thought that perhaps Gandalf had returned to aid them. But, as it got closer, they realized that the steed was gray instead of white, and that he bared two riders.
"Open the gates!" one of the guards shouted, recognizing whom the riders were.
Gimli was exhausted and, as much as he didn't harbor any particular love for horses, he felt for Arod. The horse, true to his master's request, had ridden all night at a breath taking speed, with no pause for rest and with the weight of two on his back. The dwarf could feel the animal's flanks trembling beneath his legs. The poor beast was on the verge of collapsing.
Gimli had fought the entire ride to keep the elf on top of the horse, and his arms hurt from the strength he had kept around Legolas' body for so long. He let go of the reins, forcing his fingers, rigid and claw-like as they had become, to stretch and relax.
He, however, couldn't bring himself to relax. Apart from a few mumbled words that he could not understand, the elf had failed to awake and Gimli feared for him.
As the sun's first rays faintly shone upon them, the dwarf could finally see the extent of Legolas' wound, a clean cut that ran from his right shoulder blade to the middle of his back, where it ran down to meet the rim of his leggings. A wound that still bled.
"A healer!" Gimli shouted as soon as they passed the wooden gates, "Hurry, he needs a healer!"
A messenger had run to fetch Aragorn as soon as his companions had reached the keep. The ranger hurried to the entrance, his heart racing with worry from what he had seen in the messenger's eyes. Aragorn gasped as he caught sight of the bedraggled dwarf holding the fallen elf. The horse's mane was covered in blood.
"Ai, Ilúvatar!" he prayed as he raced to meet them.
Gimli released his grip on the elf with a tired sigh, as the Rohan gently took Legolas away. Amongst the blond Rohan folk, Aragorn's dark hair caught his attention. Gimli's eyes widened in surprise.
"Aragorn?!"
The brown orbs crossed over his nose, and Gimli fell off the horse.
~'~
