Chapter 4:
A/N: I'm glad everyone has been enjoying this thus far. As I've said before, I crave reviews so please feel free, leave one...several, lol. I think I've said everything else I've wanted to.
Disclaimer: Nope, don't own any of em, Tolkein does. I just own Dani.
~*~
Saruman's heart beat faster. He could see it, the knife poised, ready for the last strike. The future King was still unaware. IN his mind's eye the wizard could see the blade begin to tremble. The Elf's unconscious was fighting him, battling his control. Beads of sweat marred his brow, running down between his eyes. Saruman's eyes squeezed shut, face screwed up in concentration. He was so close. He yearned for blood, for the sight of dull, lifeless eyes staring up to nothing.
The great black door of Orthanc swung open with a bang. Saruman started, wheeling to face the interloper, his concentration broken. Grima Wormtongue stood before him, gasping, the long, greasy tendrils of his dark hair marring his visage. "You fool!" he bellowed, his face shaking with barely controlled fury.
Wormtongue cowered. "Master I......."
"I care not for your excuses," he raged. In two steps he crossed the open floor to the side of his trembling minion. He swung his polished black staff in an upward arc, striking Grima just beneath his ribs. The man fell, clutching his stomach and hacking. "If you ever disrupt me again you will pay in blood." With that warning, Saruman swept from the room, robes billowing behind him.
--
Legolas convulsed. His right arm went limp, his fingers unclasping his Elven blade. The power to control his body fled him and his knees bucked, even as the knife slipped from his grasp. He stumbled back and to the right, away from Aragorn, reaching out instinctively at a low table. The heavy stone slab slid along the floor, generating a deep groan. The dagger slid beneath the bench where Aragorn sat.
Legolas righted himself quickly, drawing his feet beneath him. He blinked once and his eyes once again mirrored a cloudless sky. He felt cold. His eyes flitted about the room, wondering how he had come to the chambers of the Grey Company, when last he remembered he'd been walking in the corridor outside.
"Mellon nin." Aragorn was at his side in moments. His hand clapped down on Legolas' shoulder. The Ranger's slate blue eyes searched the Elf's face, his face etched with concern for one of his oldest friends.
"I stumbled," Legolas lied. He would not burden his friend with his own worries. Aragorn already bore with him his conscious knowledge of the Ring, the anxiety before the forthcoming battle. Aragorn felt the weight of a race's hope upon his shoulders already and Legolas would let him bear no more. The matter of an absent minded elf was of no concern, though Aragorn would surely give the matter undo attention.
"I have never seen you trip in the middle of a vacant room. I can barely remember you ever faltering at all," Aragorn pressed gravely.
Legolas forced himself to speak lightly, even choke out a laugh. "Indeed it has been many years since my feet have left me. But I suppose the failing of my feet once or twice in a millennia may be forgiven."
Aragorn let out a breath. "Of course. My mind is simply ill at ease, and the smallest of things lends me concern."
"I know. You worry yourself too much. But do not heed my carelessness, for my mind was elsewhere," the blonde reassured.
"Perhaps," the man conceded. His mouth quirked. "Or perhaps you have lost a step in your.........advanced years. The mind is the first to slip with age after all."
Now Legolas did laugh truly. "Only a man would consider me 'aged' Estel. I am no more ancient than Gimli is tall."
"Whatever you say mellon." Strider's eyes twinkled as he ducked the oncoming swipe of Legolas' hand.
"Enough of this absurdity. I have come to bear news from Theoden. His people are ready, they set out on the long, dangerous road to Helm's Deep. We ride now, and leave this hall for a time." The ranger nodded. He grabbed his satchel from the bench and turned to follow his friend. They left the room, and the dagger lay forgotten in the shadows upon the floor.
--
The vast line of people moving from Edoras to Helm's Deep could be seen from nearly any hillside in the Mark. The moved slowly, a meandering snake of dark shapes among the undulating hills. Dani rode near the middle. Eowyn had left her company almost an hour before, to ride up next to Aragorn. The Lady of Rohan even volunteered to walk, lending her horse to Gimli. Though the short, bearded dwarf probably would have preferred to remain on his own feet, he would not refuse such a kind offer.
Dani held back, watching. Eowyn gazed up at Aragorn with what could be called nothing but adoration. It had been a long time since Dani had seen a smile grace the fair features of her lady. Not since Theodred's death and Eomer's banishment, and the sight of it brought a light to her eye. Still, she fretted, a doubt settling upon her mind. Though Aragorn smiled, returning her gaze, Dani could not sense any return of emotion. He was as he had been in the stables, calm, exuding the aura of a wise and noble man, and slightly aloof. There was friendship in his eyes, but nothing else.
A horse riding up beside her broke her from her thoughts. The man that rode beside her was dark for man of Rohan. He was tall, as tall even as the heir to Gondor's throne. His mail gleamed dully in the sunlight, armor draped across his thick, broad chest. Hazy gray eyes studied her face. "Ride with me for a while." It was not a request and Dani was not so foolish as to take it as one.
"What ominous counsel do you send me now Eorman?" She could not see his face, as he rode on her blind side, but it mattered not. He was scowling she was sure; he always scowled.
"You would do well to heed me Danuriel. I do not so easily trust these companions of the wizard Gandalf as does our King. Do not speak with the Elf or Dwarf, for their kinds are treacherous and rarely seen. And the man, he pursues Eowyn, a man no doubt bent on power."
"All I know is what I see," she argued. "They have done nothing here but give us aid and ride now to fight beside us. And besides that, the horses trust them. Shadowfax, Lord of Horses answers only to Gandalf, and the Elf needs no saddle or rein for Arod. Our horses are not easily swayed by men outside our own realm."
Eorman grunted. "You place to much stock in the instincts of animals. Do not defy me on this Danuriel, it is my will."
"And it is my mind," she snapped, "and I will judge them to my own satisfaction."
A call from the front of the line halted Eorman even as he opened his mouth to argue again. "This is not finished," he told her before riding off at a canter.
The keeper of the stables closed her eyes, letting her horse find his own way. She let her head tip back, soaking in the warmth of the sun. The horse's rhythmic footfalls lulled her flustered nerves in minutes. Then she heard hoof beats come up beside her, slowing to match her pace. "I refuse to enter into a debate with you Eorman. Go away."
"Would you still want me to go," a lilting, musical voice asked, "if I was not the man of whom you speak?" her eyes snapped open and she sat straighter in the saddle. Dani flushed nearly crimson. "My apologies Master Elf. Of course you may ride with me. I would have thought though, that you would prefer your own company," she nodded toward Gimli and Aragorn.
"Gimli is deeply invested teaching Eowyn of his female kin. Aragorn rides with them, and I have no real desire to hear the tale again."
Dani smiled warmly, watching Gimli as Eowyn's horse took off with him. "He is a different sort, isn't he? Unusual."
"Yes. But Gimli tends to.........grow on you after a time. We would no be complete without him."
"And Aragorn? You trust him? You would follow him?"
"Yes," the elf answered quickly, assuredly. "To the end and back. Now, Danuriel you have had your day. What do you think of our order now?"
"I still distrust the powers of wizards, but one day a single deed will not ease years of doubt on the matter, nor did I expect it to. As for you and the rest," she shrugged, "my faith in you grows in spite of my mind. And it is obvious, though we did not hold council, where my lady stands on the matter. Though the look in her eye grieves me, for I do not see it returned in kind," she admitted.
Legolas' face hardened. "Eowyn's pursuit will be in vain. The heart of the Ranger lies elsewhere, and it is no longer his to give. The end to her longing will be bitter, though she may be the better for it in time."
Dani bit down on her lower lip. It was as she had feared. "Let us speak of some other, less dreary matter. The heart will go where it will, unbidden, and I wish to no longer foresee doom in it."
The blonde elf nodded graciously. "As you wish. A question then. Who was it you mistook me for earlier? You did not sound pleased when you thought it was he."
"Eorman, son of Eonal and my betrothed. And I did not sound pleased because I was not."
His slender brows arched mildly. "I see. So then I have embroiled myself in a quarrel of lovers."
Dani stiffened. "We are not lovers," she seethed through clenched teeth.
"So what then? Betrothed, but not beloved?"
"I care very much for him," she countered. "Long has he been in service to the Mark and the King. It is seen as an honor to wed such a man."
"You care for him, but you do not love him." This was not a question and she did not treat it as such.
"It is not a question of love," she returned coldly.
"Then what is it a question of? When does your life cease to be a duty and become your own?"
Her green eye blazed and the haze over her blind eye seemed to thicken. She turned her head to glare at him. "You are being pert. You do not know me or my heart, so do not speak of things you do not understand! We are not all so gifted as the Eldar with unending days. I have not forever to seek out a love."
The elf was admonished. "You are right," he conceded quietly. "It is not my place to lecture you and I have spoken out of turn. I apologize."
They rode in a tense silence for a moment, while Dani fiddled with her reins, scarping at the leather with the thumb of her nail. "Do not," she sighed a moment later. Her shoulders slumped, and the angry edge fled her voice.
"Excuse me?"
"Do not apologize. You may not know me, but you are not wrong. My anger spurned from truth I did not want to hear from another. I wed you see, not for duty, but for myself. There will come a day when Eowyn weds, and Theoden is no longer King and I will be utterly alone. I do not care for the thought. Can you understand?"
Legolas was quiet as he reflected. His mind drifted to his friends, Aragorn, Gimli and the rest of the Fellowship. He would long outlive them all and it was not a thought he often dwelled on. He, better than most elves, knew of the harsh sting of mortality and the slow burning of loneliness. "Yes, I believe I can." She nodded and the two rode for a while in companionable silence.
--
Later in the journey Legolas left Dani's side. Eorman had been shooting the Elf dark looks for over an hour and he tired of the constant scrutiny. Leaving Arod with a Rohirrim guard, he made his way over a hillock beside the road. He knew not what drove him there, only following the instinct that led him. Azure eyes scanned the horizon, and for a moment all was peaceful. Still, the knot in his stomach grew. "Wargs," he whispered to himself. He knew what came even before he saw them.
His eyes narrowed as he watched the first bound over top the hill. "Wargs!" he cried out. The two Rohirrim guard riding behind him wheeled their mounts, galloping back to raise the alarm. He did not look to them, simply pulled an arrow from his quiver and brought it to his bow. Legolas shot arrows so quickly that at fleeting glance it would seem that he did not sight his quarry at all. But one, two, three arrows in quick succession hitting their mark, made obvious his skill.
He disliked Wargs intensely. A few wild ones roamed the forests of Mirkwood, and many an Elf had been caught unaware. A few died, almost none returned without a severe wound. Wargs were filthy, rough coated beasts with dripping fangs. They were the chosen animals of the Orcs, and they rode them as men did horses, sitting astride the large hump between the animal's shoulders. Wargs were slightly shorter than horses, but broader and thicker in muscle. Their teeth were sharp and their claws razors that could slice a man open from gullet to toe in one swipe. He loathed them.
A rush of hoof beats behind him told of the coming of the Rohirrim. The Orc riders streamed at them in huge numbers and for every one that fell, there seemed two to replace him. Legolas let fly two more arrows before whipping around, grasping the horn of Arod's saddle. He sprang lightly off his feet, pulled higher by the speed of the galloping horse and swung neatly into the saddle.
Gimli muttered something about showboating elves, but he paid the Dwarf little mind. Aragorn raced alongside them on the chestnut Hasufel, and down the line legolas spotted Theoden aboard his stalwart Snowmane. The horses of Rohan were stout in heart indeed, and not one faltered as the flung headlong into the mass of Orcs and Wargs. The smells of death and decay assaulted them, but not one slackened in pace.
Arod leaped forward up a small incline and Gimli tumbled off to the rear. Legolas pulled the horse up just long enough to assure himself of his friend's safety before hurrying on. A litter of horses, men, Orcs and Wargs lay scattered amongst the grass, the blood of all mixing in emerald blades. Aragorn was off his horse now, slicing and hacking with his sword. Theoden and others let loose victorious cries. They were winning.
Then, at the far end of the field, Legolas spied two Orc riders that had slipped through the line. They charged up the crest of the hill and vanished on the other side. His blood ran cold. The people of Edoras hurried along now, but they were virtually defenseless. He heeled Arod into a gallop, urging the horse to flight as he raced after the Orcs. His quiver was bare of arrows and he leaned from the saddle, plucking two from the body of a slain Warg praying to the Valar that he would not be too late.
--
Eowyn had taken charge of the front of the line. She urged all to move as quickly as they were able, toward the safety of the Deeping Wall and the fortress inside. She yearned to be with the others, to fight alongside the men, but her arguments with her uncle had been futile, so she remained to guide them all. Dani rode farther down the line on her bay, calling for haste. The two women spurred the group on with all the will they had to muster.
The sight of the Orc rider coming at them down the hill, instantly sent a chill through Eowyn. She grasped the hilt of her sword and pulled it from its sheath, as those behind her cried out and cowered. She moved her horse away from her people, leaving a clear space for defense. Still, her face paled as he neared and she realized, his intent was not to fight her, but to drive through her. No sword stroke she could muster would halt the crushing onslaught of Orc and beast. Face grim, she steeled herself for the impact.
The Warg gathered himself to leap, drawing his heavy muscled haunches beneath him. Then, at the last possible moment, an arrow sliced through the Warg's neck. His jump faltered and he crashed to the ground, sliding to a halt near the hooves of Eowyn's mare. The Orc was readily on its feet again, but Eowyn held no fear of a mere Orc. She pushed her horse onward and she swung her sword, meeting the dark, curved blade of the enemy in mid swing.
Twice more the blades locked before she felled him. She swung her mare around, slamming the horse's shoulder into the Orc and he stumbled. She buried her sword in his gut, drawing it up the soft flesh of his belly and bled him dry. She breathed deeply, face alight with victory. Then her gaze swept around her and found Dani some yards away, still holding her bow.
Eowyn's grateful smile died even as it came to her. Another Warg and rider came down on them, this one from behind Dani on her blind side. "Dani!" she screamed a warning, too far away to offer any other assistance.
Dani paled at the sound of Eowyn's terrified cry. She twisted in the saddle just in time to see the slobbering face of a warg bear down upon her. She drew her bow, but it was too late. Her horse reared, attempting to spin out of the way of the charge. Dani felt the impact of the Warg's chest against her leg, and her the snapping of his teeth as she and her mount fell and the Warg flew over them. She fell clear of her horse, drawing her knees up to her chin and shielding her head with her arms. One claw snagged the fabric of her shirt and a searing pain tore up her arm.
She lifted herself off the ground. Behind her, her horse scramble to his feet. Her eyes met those of the Orc, who looked utterly satisfied. He raised his blade. An arrow sailed through the air, striking the Warg in the soft flesh behind its forearm, piercing its heart. A second imbedded itself in the Orc's eye. Both crashed to the ground, mere inches from her face. Dani wheeled. Legolas sat atop Arod at the crest of the hill, bow at the ready. He said nothing, just spun Arod and went back to the fray.
--
Aragorn's thoughts were not on the rough terrain over which he was being dragged. Rocks tore at his clothes, bruising and slicing his legs, but he barely noticed. His mind was not even on the Orc rider inches away from him. Instead he concentrated on loosing his hand, and trying not to tear his shoulder apart.
He was not sure at exactly what moment Arwen's token was lost to him. Though in the following moments that he recalled later, he was sure that the sky had darkened then, and the weather had grown colder. And he could still not free his hand. The Orc grinned at him viciously, revealing rotting, crooked teeth. Then he flung himself off the Warg. Aragorn craned to look over his own shoulder and he drew a sharp breath when he sighted the edge of the cliff.
The Warg fell and Aragorn's arm was wrenched once again. A spray of dirt hit him in the face and he shut his eyes against it. They were still shut when the Warg slipped over the edge of the cliff. And suddenly the sharp sting of rocks and the threat of swords an bow seemed far preferable to the vast emptiness in which he found himself falling.
The river below roared, an in an ironic play, his hand freed itself a moment before he struck the water. The icy water struck him like a thousand small knives and he flipped end over end. A veil of tiny bubbles obscured his vision and he knew not which way was up and which down. The strength of the river current held him under, sweeping him along till his breath was used up. He sprang to the surface, gasping for air. He had not gone another few yards when the current hurtled him into a rock, and he remembered nothing more.
--
Legolas could barely make himself pick up the necklace. The shining token of the Evenstar twirled on the end of its chain. Legolas's heart was filled with dread. The necklace was something Aragorn would never willingly part with. The interrogation of the Orc only increased the fear in his mind. He and Gimli both walked with leaden feet to the edge of the cliff.
Both friends peered over the edge together. There, on the rocks below lay the battered body of a Warg. Legolas's hand clenched more tightly around the silver token. "He is not down there," Gimli's voice was low and Legolas was not sure if the words were meant to be reassuring. Aragorn was lost. The Elf was not certain what vexed him more, the thought that Aragorn was dead, or the feeling of grim satisfaction that once stole on a black cloud through his mind.
Chapter 4
Hope you've enjoyed so far. Please tell me what you think, good bad or ugly.
A/N: I'm glad everyone has been enjoying this thus far. As I've said before, I crave reviews so please feel free, leave one...several, lol. I think I've said everything else I've wanted to.
Disclaimer: Nope, don't own any of em, Tolkein does. I just own Dani.
~*~
Saruman's heart beat faster. He could see it, the knife poised, ready for the last strike. The future King was still unaware. IN his mind's eye the wizard could see the blade begin to tremble. The Elf's unconscious was fighting him, battling his control. Beads of sweat marred his brow, running down between his eyes. Saruman's eyes squeezed shut, face screwed up in concentration. He was so close. He yearned for blood, for the sight of dull, lifeless eyes staring up to nothing.
The great black door of Orthanc swung open with a bang. Saruman started, wheeling to face the interloper, his concentration broken. Grima Wormtongue stood before him, gasping, the long, greasy tendrils of his dark hair marring his visage. "You fool!" he bellowed, his face shaking with barely controlled fury.
Wormtongue cowered. "Master I......."
"I care not for your excuses," he raged. In two steps he crossed the open floor to the side of his trembling minion. He swung his polished black staff in an upward arc, striking Grima just beneath his ribs. The man fell, clutching his stomach and hacking. "If you ever disrupt me again you will pay in blood." With that warning, Saruman swept from the room, robes billowing behind him.
--
Legolas convulsed. His right arm went limp, his fingers unclasping his Elven blade. The power to control his body fled him and his knees bucked, even as the knife slipped from his grasp. He stumbled back and to the right, away from Aragorn, reaching out instinctively at a low table. The heavy stone slab slid along the floor, generating a deep groan. The dagger slid beneath the bench where Aragorn sat.
Legolas righted himself quickly, drawing his feet beneath him. He blinked once and his eyes once again mirrored a cloudless sky. He felt cold. His eyes flitted about the room, wondering how he had come to the chambers of the Grey Company, when last he remembered he'd been walking in the corridor outside.
"Mellon nin." Aragorn was at his side in moments. His hand clapped down on Legolas' shoulder. The Ranger's slate blue eyes searched the Elf's face, his face etched with concern for one of his oldest friends.
"I stumbled," Legolas lied. He would not burden his friend with his own worries. Aragorn already bore with him his conscious knowledge of the Ring, the anxiety before the forthcoming battle. Aragorn felt the weight of a race's hope upon his shoulders already and Legolas would let him bear no more. The matter of an absent minded elf was of no concern, though Aragorn would surely give the matter undo attention.
"I have never seen you trip in the middle of a vacant room. I can barely remember you ever faltering at all," Aragorn pressed gravely.
Legolas forced himself to speak lightly, even choke out a laugh. "Indeed it has been many years since my feet have left me. But I suppose the failing of my feet once or twice in a millennia may be forgiven."
Aragorn let out a breath. "Of course. My mind is simply ill at ease, and the smallest of things lends me concern."
"I know. You worry yourself too much. But do not heed my carelessness, for my mind was elsewhere," the blonde reassured.
"Perhaps," the man conceded. His mouth quirked. "Or perhaps you have lost a step in your.........advanced years. The mind is the first to slip with age after all."
Now Legolas did laugh truly. "Only a man would consider me 'aged' Estel. I am no more ancient than Gimli is tall."
"Whatever you say mellon." Strider's eyes twinkled as he ducked the oncoming swipe of Legolas' hand.
"Enough of this absurdity. I have come to bear news from Theoden. His people are ready, they set out on the long, dangerous road to Helm's Deep. We ride now, and leave this hall for a time." The ranger nodded. He grabbed his satchel from the bench and turned to follow his friend. They left the room, and the dagger lay forgotten in the shadows upon the floor.
--
The vast line of people moving from Edoras to Helm's Deep could be seen from nearly any hillside in the Mark. The moved slowly, a meandering snake of dark shapes among the undulating hills. Dani rode near the middle. Eowyn had left her company almost an hour before, to ride up next to Aragorn. The Lady of Rohan even volunteered to walk, lending her horse to Gimli. Though the short, bearded dwarf probably would have preferred to remain on his own feet, he would not refuse such a kind offer.
Dani held back, watching. Eowyn gazed up at Aragorn with what could be called nothing but adoration. It had been a long time since Dani had seen a smile grace the fair features of her lady. Not since Theodred's death and Eomer's banishment, and the sight of it brought a light to her eye. Still, she fretted, a doubt settling upon her mind. Though Aragorn smiled, returning her gaze, Dani could not sense any return of emotion. He was as he had been in the stables, calm, exuding the aura of a wise and noble man, and slightly aloof. There was friendship in his eyes, but nothing else.
A horse riding up beside her broke her from her thoughts. The man that rode beside her was dark for man of Rohan. He was tall, as tall even as the heir to Gondor's throne. His mail gleamed dully in the sunlight, armor draped across his thick, broad chest. Hazy gray eyes studied her face. "Ride with me for a while." It was not a request and Dani was not so foolish as to take it as one.
"What ominous counsel do you send me now Eorman?" She could not see his face, as he rode on her blind side, but it mattered not. He was scowling she was sure; he always scowled.
"You would do well to heed me Danuriel. I do not so easily trust these companions of the wizard Gandalf as does our King. Do not speak with the Elf or Dwarf, for their kinds are treacherous and rarely seen. And the man, he pursues Eowyn, a man no doubt bent on power."
"All I know is what I see," she argued. "They have done nothing here but give us aid and ride now to fight beside us. And besides that, the horses trust them. Shadowfax, Lord of Horses answers only to Gandalf, and the Elf needs no saddle or rein for Arod. Our horses are not easily swayed by men outside our own realm."
Eorman grunted. "You place to much stock in the instincts of animals. Do not defy me on this Danuriel, it is my will."
"And it is my mind," she snapped, "and I will judge them to my own satisfaction."
A call from the front of the line halted Eorman even as he opened his mouth to argue again. "This is not finished," he told her before riding off at a canter.
The keeper of the stables closed her eyes, letting her horse find his own way. She let her head tip back, soaking in the warmth of the sun. The horse's rhythmic footfalls lulled her flustered nerves in minutes. Then she heard hoof beats come up beside her, slowing to match her pace. "I refuse to enter into a debate with you Eorman. Go away."
"Would you still want me to go," a lilting, musical voice asked, "if I was not the man of whom you speak?" her eyes snapped open and she sat straighter in the saddle. Dani flushed nearly crimson. "My apologies Master Elf. Of course you may ride with me. I would have thought though, that you would prefer your own company," she nodded toward Gimli and Aragorn.
"Gimli is deeply invested teaching Eowyn of his female kin. Aragorn rides with them, and I have no real desire to hear the tale again."
Dani smiled warmly, watching Gimli as Eowyn's horse took off with him. "He is a different sort, isn't he? Unusual."
"Yes. But Gimli tends to.........grow on you after a time. We would no be complete without him."
"And Aragorn? You trust him? You would follow him?"
"Yes," the elf answered quickly, assuredly. "To the end and back. Now, Danuriel you have had your day. What do you think of our order now?"
"I still distrust the powers of wizards, but one day a single deed will not ease years of doubt on the matter, nor did I expect it to. As for you and the rest," she shrugged, "my faith in you grows in spite of my mind. And it is obvious, though we did not hold council, where my lady stands on the matter. Though the look in her eye grieves me, for I do not see it returned in kind," she admitted.
Legolas' face hardened. "Eowyn's pursuit will be in vain. The heart of the Ranger lies elsewhere, and it is no longer his to give. The end to her longing will be bitter, though she may be the better for it in time."
Dani bit down on her lower lip. It was as she had feared. "Let us speak of some other, less dreary matter. The heart will go where it will, unbidden, and I wish to no longer foresee doom in it."
The blonde elf nodded graciously. "As you wish. A question then. Who was it you mistook me for earlier? You did not sound pleased when you thought it was he."
"Eorman, son of Eonal and my betrothed. And I did not sound pleased because I was not."
His slender brows arched mildly. "I see. So then I have embroiled myself in a quarrel of lovers."
Dani stiffened. "We are not lovers," she seethed through clenched teeth.
"So what then? Betrothed, but not beloved?"
"I care very much for him," she countered. "Long has he been in service to the Mark and the King. It is seen as an honor to wed such a man."
"You care for him, but you do not love him." This was not a question and she did not treat it as such.
"It is not a question of love," she returned coldly.
"Then what is it a question of? When does your life cease to be a duty and become your own?"
Her green eye blazed and the haze over her blind eye seemed to thicken. She turned her head to glare at him. "You are being pert. You do not know me or my heart, so do not speak of things you do not understand! We are not all so gifted as the Eldar with unending days. I have not forever to seek out a love."
The elf was admonished. "You are right," he conceded quietly. "It is not my place to lecture you and I have spoken out of turn. I apologize."
They rode in a tense silence for a moment, while Dani fiddled with her reins, scarping at the leather with the thumb of her nail. "Do not," she sighed a moment later. Her shoulders slumped, and the angry edge fled her voice.
"Excuse me?"
"Do not apologize. You may not know me, but you are not wrong. My anger spurned from truth I did not want to hear from another. I wed you see, not for duty, but for myself. There will come a day when Eowyn weds, and Theoden is no longer King and I will be utterly alone. I do not care for the thought. Can you understand?"
Legolas was quiet as he reflected. His mind drifted to his friends, Aragorn, Gimli and the rest of the Fellowship. He would long outlive them all and it was not a thought he often dwelled on. He, better than most elves, knew of the harsh sting of mortality and the slow burning of loneliness. "Yes, I believe I can." She nodded and the two rode for a while in companionable silence.
--
Later in the journey Legolas left Dani's side. Eorman had been shooting the Elf dark looks for over an hour and he tired of the constant scrutiny. Leaving Arod with a Rohirrim guard, he made his way over a hillock beside the road. He knew not what drove him there, only following the instinct that led him. Azure eyes scanned the horizon, and for a moment all was peaceful. Still, the knot in his stomach grew. "Wargs," he whispered to himself. He knew what came even before he saw them.
His eyes narrowed as he watched the first bound over top the hill. "Wargs!" he cried out. The two Rohirrim guard riding behind him wheeled their mounts, galloping back to raise the alarm. He did not look to them, simply pulled an arrow from his quiver and brought it to his bow. Legolas shot arrows so quickly that at fleeting glance it would seem that he did not sight his quarry at all. But one, two, three arrows in quick succession hitting their mark, made obvious his skill.
He disliked Wargs intensely. A few wild ones roamed the forests of Mirkwood, and many an Elf had been caught unaware. A few died, almost none returned without a severe wound. Wargs were filthy, rough coated beasts with dripping fangs. They were the chosen animals of the Orcs, and they rode them as men did horses, sitting astride the large hump between the animal's shoulders. Wargs were slightly shorter than horses, but broader and thicker in muscle. Their teeth were sharp and their claws razors that could slice a man open from gullet to toe in one swipe. He loathed them.
A rush of hoof beats behind him told of the coming of the Rohirrim. The Orc riders streamed at them in huge numbers and for every one that fell, there seemed two to replace him. Legolas let fly two more arrows before whipping around, grasping the horn of Arod's saddle. He sprang lightly off his feet, pulled higher by the speed of the galloping horse and swung neatly into the saddle.
Gimli muttered something about showboating elves, but he paid the Dwarf little mind. Aragorn raced alongside them on the chestnut Hasufel, and down the line legolas spotted Theoden aboard his stalwart Snowmane. The horses of Rohan were stout in heart indeed, and not one faltered as the flung headlong into the mass of Orcs and Wargs. The smells of death and decay assaulted them, but not one slackened in pace.
Arod leaped forward up a small incline and Gimli tumbled off to the rear. Legolas pulled the horse up just long enough to assure himself of his friend's safety before hurrying on. A litter of horses, men, Orcs and Wargs lay scattered amongst the grass, the blood of all mixing in emerald blades. Aragorn was off his horse now, slicing and hacking with his sword. Theoden and others let loose victorious cries. They were winning.
Then, at the far end of the field, Legolas spied two Orc riders that had slipped through the line. They charged up the crest of the hill and vanished on the other side. His blood ran cold. The people of Edoras hurried along now, but they were virtually defenseless. He heeled Arod into a gallop, urging the horse to flight as he raced after the Orcs. His quiver was bare of arrows and he leaned from the saddle, plucking two from the body of a slain Warg praying to the Valar that he would not be too late.
--
Eowyn had taken charge of the front of the line. She urged all to move as quickly as they were able, toward the safety of the Deeping Wall and the fortress inside. She yearned to be with the others, to fight alongside the men, but her arguments with her uncle had been futile, so she remained to guide them all. Dani rode farther down the line on her bay, calling for haste. The two women spurred the group on with all the will they had to muster.
The sight of the Orc rider coming at them down the hill, instantly sent a chill through Eowyn. She grasped the hilt of her sword and pulled it from its sheath, as those behind her cried out and cowered. She moved her horse away from her people, leaving a clear space for defense. Still, her face paled as he neared and she realized, his intent was not to fight her, but to drive through her. No sword stroke she could muster would halt the crushing onslaught of Orc and beast. Face grim, she steeled herself for the impact.
The Warg gathered himself to leap, drawing his heavy muscled haunches beneath him. Then, at the last possible moment, an arrow sliced through the Warg's neck. His jump faltered and he crashed to the ground, sliding to a halt near the hooves of Eowyn's mare. The Orc was readily on its feet again, but Eowyn held no fear of a mere Orc. She pushed her horse onward and she swung her sword, meeting the dark, curved blade of the enemy in mid swing.
Twice more the blades locked before she felled him. She swung her mare around, slamming the horse's shoulder into the Orc and he stumbled. She buried her sword in his gut, drawing it up the soft flesh of his belly and bled him dry. She breathed deeply, face alight with victory. Then her gaze swept around her and found Dani some yards away, still holding her bow.
Eowyn's grateful smile died even as it came to her. Another Warg and rider came down on them, this one from behind Dani on her blind side. "Dani!" she screamed a warning, too far away to offer any other assistance.
Dani paled at the sound of Eowyn's terrified cry. She twisted in the saddle just in time to see the slobbering face of a warg bear down upon her. She drew her bow, but it was too late. Her horse reared, attempting to spin out of the way of the charge. Dani felt the impact of the Warg's chest against her leg, and her the snapping of his teeth as she and her mount fell and the Warg flew over them. She fell clear of her horse, drawing her knees up to her chin and shielding her head with her arms. One claw snagged the fabric of her shirt and a searing pain tore up her arm.
She lifted herself off the ground. Behind her, her horse scramble to his feet. Her eyes met those of the Orc, who looked utterly satisfied. He raised his blade. An arrow sailed through the air, striking the Warg in the soft flesh behind its forearm, piercing its heart. A second imbedded itself in the Orc's eye. Both crashed to the ground, mere inches from her face. Dani wheeled. Legolas sat atop Arod at the crest of the hill, bow at the ready. He said nothing, just spun Arod and went back to the fray.
--
Aragorn's thoughts were not on the rough terrain over which he was being dragged. Rocks tore at his clothes, bruising and slicing his legs, but he barely noticed. His mind was not even on the Orc rider inches away from him. Instead he concentrated on loosing his hand, and trying not to tear his shoulder apart.
He was not sure at exactly what moment Arwen's token was lost to him. Though in the following moments that he recalled later, he was sure that the sky had darkened then, and the weather had grown colder. And he could still not free his hand. The Orc grinned at him viciously, revealing rotting, crooked teeth. Then he flung himself off the Warg. Aragorn craned to look over his own shoulder and he drew a sharp breath when he sighted the edge of the cliff.
The Warg fell and Aragorn's arm was wrenched once again. A spray of dirt hit him in the face and he shut his eyes against it. They were still shut when the Warg slipped over the edge of the cliff. And suddenly the sharp sting of rocks and the threat of swords an bow seemed far preferable to the vast emptiness in which he found himself falling.
The river below roared, an in an ironic play, his hand freed itself a moment before he struck the water. The icy water struck him like a thousand small knives and he flipped end over end. A veil of tiny bubbles obscured his vision and he knew not which way was up and which down. The strength of the river current held him under, sweeping him along till his breath was used up. He sprang to the surface, gasping for air. He had not gone another few yards when the current hurtled him into a rock, and he remembered nothing more.
--
Legolas could barely make himself pick up the necklace. The shining token of the Evenstar twirled on the end of its chain. Legolas's heart was filled with dread. The necklace was something Aragorn would never willingly part with. The interrogation of the Orc only increased the fear in his mind. He and Gimli both walked with leaden feet to the edge of the cliff.
Both friends peered over the edge together. There, on the rocks below lay the battered body of a Warg. Legolas's hand clenched more tightly around the silver token. "He is not down there," Gimli's voice was low and Legolas was not sure if the words were meant to be reassuring. Aragorn was lost. The Elf was not certain what vexed him more, the thought that Aragorn was dead, or the feeling of grim satisfaction that once stole on a black cloud through his mind.
Chapter 4
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