DISCLAIMER: see Chapter One for a full disclaimer.
A/N: this chapter is a repost! I had the "final count" wrong in the original posting! My thanks to the website COUNCIL_OF_ELRDOND for the transcripts to fix a faulty memory.
Chapter Six: What Do You See?
Full daylight came on a scene of death and destruction beyond imagination. The dead---friend and foe alike---were stacked upon each other in the Hornburg and upon the walls. Hundreds of Uruk-Hai lay dead before the walls: those the Elvish arrows had not slain outright had been trampled to death in the charge of their comrades.
The cost had been horrendous.
Dozens of the defenders of Helm's Deep lay dead. More were wounded and maimed. The wall had been breached by the monstrous explosion of wizard fire and was missing a section some thirty paces wide. How many died in the explosion would never be known for certain because no bodies could be found.
Aragorn ignored his own aches and pains to do what he could, helping the wounded and giving mercy to those beyond aid. The dead Uruk-Hai were stripped of anything that could be useful and burned in a massive funeral pyre. Dead Rohirrim were identified before being turned over to kin or being consigned to another fire. There was no time for ceremony.
Legolas moved among the dead, helping where he could but searching as well. Of the two hundred Elves who had fought for Helm's Deep, only he had survived. He gathered each body and carried the fallen Elf to a fire to be burned.
"The Elf has chosen a lonely task," someone said behind Aragorn.
He turned to find himself facing Eomer, brother to Eowyn and Third Marshall of the Riddermark. He had shed his plumed helm and loosened the straps of his armor as he helped gather the dead. His features were grim as he looked across the courtyard to Legolas.
"It is their way," Aragorn said. "Only he can give them proper honor."
"The battle would have gone badly without them. We owe them much."
"The debt is also owed to you. This battle would have been lost if not for the arrival of the Rohirrim."
"It was our fight. The Elves had nothing to hold them here."
Aragorn stared into the fair-haired man for a long moment. "This war is for all races," he said, recalling Legolas' words during the battle. "We will win or lose together."
Eomer nodded, clapped a hand on his shoulder, and moved to help several Riders. Legolas had ceased his search and was looking around. Aragorn followed his gaze and smiled. Gimli was seated on a dead Uruk-Hai, puffing at his pipe. His axe was buried deep in the orc's skull.
Legolas strode toward Gimli, nonchalantly inspecting his bow. "Final count," said the Elf, "forty-two."
Gimli raised his bushy eyebrows. "Forty-two," he said, blowing out smoke. "That's not bad for a pointy-eared Elf princeling. I myself am sitting pretty on forty-three."
A slight frown crossed Legolas' face and, in a move faster than many could follow, he nocked an arrow and let it fly. Gimli gave a startled cry as the slender arrow passed between his legs and sank into the body beneath him. Legolas raised his head.
"Forty-three, then."
"He was already dead!" protested Gimli.
A smile tugged at Legolas' lips as he said, "He twitched."
Gimli grabbed the hilt of his axe. "That's because he's got my axe buried in his nervous system!"
He emphasized each word with a jerk on the axe handle. The body spasmed with each movement. Smiling, Aragorn went back to work. A few moments later, he saw Legolas standing high on the outer wall, staring into the distance. He stood motionless except for stray locks of hair blown by the wind. Aragorn climbed the stairs and joined him. He scanned the open plain as well but failed to see anything but work crews and corpses.
"What do you see?" the Man asked quietly, speaking Elvish.
"Death," Legolas answered in the same language. "Death and loss and great sorrow. But something else as well." The Elf turned his gaze on Aragorn. "I see hope."
THE END