Band of Brothers
Cheryl W.
Disclaimer: Disclaimer: I don't own The Lord of the Rings or anything in conjunction with The Lord of the Rings. I also do not own Band of Brothers or anything in conjunction with Band of Brothers. Nor am I making a profit from this story. No copyright infringement is intended.
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Chapter 3
Pride and duty warred within Legolas. He did not want to endure the humiliating tongue lashing Denethor would unleash on him if he asked the captain to repeat his orders. But, on the other hand, he also wanted to perform his assigned duty. He owed that to these men that surrounded him now. Inhaling the crisp cool air of the forest, Legolas tried to come to a decision on what to do. Of its own accord, his mind thought of what he would do if he had this exact occurrence with Aragorn...if it were Aragorn's orders he had not heard. The answer was instantaneous and without doubt: He would request Aragorn to repeat the orders.
Even with that clear indication of his correct path, Legolas remained immobile. 'Aragorn would not chew me out though,' he silently argued but then painfully realized he spoke of his friend as if he were still among the living. A sob began to climb up his throat. Never again would he share the exasperated 'can-you-believe-the-mess-we're-in' looks with Aragorn. Or hear the other man's steady voice amid the chaos of battle, quelling his men's fears and steering them unswervingly through danger. But worst of all, Legolas would never again be engulfed in the comfort of his friend's presence.
Quickly, Legolas cut through the forest, past the men and the foxholes to a secluded area that still knew the quiet of winter. Bracing his hands on a tree, he bent his head until it rested on the tree trunk and he let the sobs escape his barriers. Yes, he had seen many die..some quick, some painstakingly slow and a small part of him mourned for all of them. But this loss...this was like a knife into his heart. Aragorn was the brother he had always dreamed of having ...and the rest of the company...they had come to mean more to him than he realized...until now. This pain could not be locked away...to try to do that would break him. More sobs tore from him as memories flashed through his mind. Surviving was turning out to be the worst fate he had ever envisioned.
Drawing in a steadying breath moments later, Legolas pushed away from the tree and wiped at the tears that still tracked down his ice cold cheeks. He could not bring them back...nor could he change his own fate. There was only one thing he could do for his brothers....carry on...fight the good fight...and maintain the honor that was Fellowship Company.
Determinedly he headed back to the fox holes, to Denethor. He would not let these men down, not for the sake of his pride. He would ask the captain to repeat his orders and he would take the abuse he knew he rightly deserved for his inattention. He did not have the luxury of letting his emotions reign, not here, not now.
Reaching the nearest fox hole, Legolas bent down and questioned the two soldiers who were shivering in their hole. "Where's Captain Denethor?"
The younger looking soldier pointed north, "He's checking out the front line, sir."
"Thanks," Legolas said as he stood and began to walk through the snow enshrouded forest to the front line...the front line that was the last resting place of his company. At first his steps were strong, unwavering, the white world around him somehow comforting to his troubled soul but when he caught sight of the charred trees, the blackened ground his steps faltered and he couldn't draw in a breath. The fires had burned fiercely, without mercy, leaving only black ash in it's place...in their place. Swallowing hard, he tried to not be ill.
He jumped when a hand came down heavily on his shoulder and he swung around to see Captain Gondor at his side, wearing an expression of displeasure. "What are you doing here, lieutenant?!"
Off balance at the sight before him, Legolas's prepared words would not come.
"I'm waiting for an explanation, Mirkwood."
Meeting the captain's eyes head on, Legolas steadily asked, "What were my orders again, sir?"
Frustration swept over Denethor's features and he let out a string of curses. "You're useless, Mirkwood. You know that, right?"
Sensing the man wanted an answer, Legolas replied, "Yes, sir. I am useless."
"I don't need any more useless "officers"," the captain sneered.
"No sir, you don't. I will not disappoint you again," Legolas promised, his oath more to honor his fallen comrades than any respect he gave to the man before him.
To this, Denethor snorted but his verbal response was cut off as a low whistle rent the air. Immediately Denethor unslung his rifle. With the white fog holding the forest in its grip, visibility was poor within a couple of yards from the captain's position. All he could do was sight his weapon in the direction he perceived the sound to have emanated. When the whistle came again, Denethor cocked his gun and waited for a target to come within his sights.
Hearing the whistle the first time, Legolas had stiffen as if struck. It could not be...it was a trick of his mind...a wish of his heart. But when the short whistled tune came again out of the white world around him, he could not deny it's reality. Turning to Denethor, he was terrified to see the captain ready to release a round.
"No!" Legolas yelled as he stepped in front of the other man and yanked the gun's muzzle upward. Before the captain could vent his anger, Legolas explained, "It's Fellwoship Company's code, sir."
"Look around, Lieutenant!" Denathor hissed back, his eyes searing into Legolas's as he ripped his gun from the other man's hold. "No one survived this!"
"Someone has!" Legolas countered, turning and letting his eyes scan the woods around him as he sent out his own whistle of reply. His heart thudded in his chest in anticipation and fear. He did not know who would walk from the woods...and he could not bear to hope falsely...he could not bear to feel the loss anew.
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A moment later, Legolas could see movement in the north of their position. Slowly the white fog gave way to a number of figures trudging through the snow. Legolas and Denethor tensed, but for entirely different reasons. Denethor tightly gripped his gun, fearing an attack, while Legolas grasped onto the renewed hope for the return of those he believed lost to him.
Finally the men began to emerge from the thickness of the fog. "Legolas, that you?" came echoing through the still forest.
Joy and relief tore through Legolas. He knew that voice. "Merry!" Forgetting Denethor's presence, Legolas ran forward to greet the returning soldiers. As he came upon the group of men, he readily took in the presence of every man in the group of fourteen. His eyes swept over the twelve privates and two sergeants, quickly assessing them, finding them looking exhausted but uninjured. His focus returned to the two men he considered some of his closest friends. "Pippin! I shoulda known where there's one of you, the other is bound to be near by!" he called out before pulling the two sergeants into a fierce three way hug.
"Report, soldiers!" Captain Gondor's demanding voice broke the men apart like scolded school boys. "Where have you been? Are there any other survivors?" his look swinging from Sergeant Brandybuck to Sergeant Took.
Sergeant Brandybuck swiftly answered, "We've been holding on the outskirts of Foy."
Before the sergeant could continue his narrative, Denethor cut in with sharp disapproval, "Outskirts of Foy?! No orders were given to advance that far."
Impatience ate at Legolas, goading him to cut into the military squabble and demand that one of the sergeants answer Denethor's second question, the question he himself could not find the strength to utter. 'Are there any other survivors?' But his training kept him quiet. Always he had to be a soldier first.
Offended at the captain's words, Sergeant Took firmly relayed the prior night's events. "When the shelling started last night, fire swept everywhere. We were cut off from retreating and to the east and west were enemy troops. So Captain Thorongil ordered us forward."
Relief drenched Legolas at the mention of Aragorn and, abandoning the disciplines of his rank, he interrupted Captain Denethor's interrogation. "The captain...where is he?"
Overriding the lieutenant's question, Denethor reacted to Pippin's report, "He didn't have the authority to make that order. Our orders are clear: to keep the front line here," and he pointed emphatically to the forest ground, "not to go traipsing over the countryside of Foy!"
It was Merry who sharply retorted, "If the captain didn't make that decision, our whole company would be gone!" Seeing the anger flare in the officer's eyes, Merry compliantly added, "Sir."
But Denethor's anger could not be soothed by a "sir". "He will answer to command for that decision," he darkly promised, eyeing all three soldiers before him. Then he settled his look upon Pippin, "And when can we expect Throngil to make an appearance?" his disdain tainting every word.
A worried look passed over both sergeants' features and Legolas felt like he was again in the aid station...dreading the news from the front.
"When we were advancing forward, Boromir's platoon, which was taking point, stumbled upon a large enemy contingent. Captain Throngil decided to use the platoon to draw the enemy away from the rest of the company." Here Pippin's eyes swung to Legolas and he quietly addressed his next words to the 2nd lieutenant. "The Captain led the platoon. We heard them engage the enemy for a long time as we made for Foy...and then everything got quiet."
Stunned, Legolas could not move, could not draw in a breath. He knew what Pippin was telling him.. what he was not telling him. Chances were high that Captain Aragorn Thorongil had sacrificed his life in the defense of his men. For the first time, Legolas cursed honor and loyalty and even love. They all came at too high a price.
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Over the next hours, more men from Fellowship Company straggled into camp, all cold, some wounded but amazingly alive. Denethor had put Legolas in charge of giving out orders to those returning survivors of his company, getting the wounded to the aid station and tallying the dead. It was both a joyous task and a heartbreaking one. For every friend who stepped from the fog, he found himself forced to tally another onto the death toll. So far he knew the shelling had killed 15 men from the company and wounded 11 and 3 more had been killed and 5 more wounded when they were discovered on the perimeter of Foy.
Happiness and sorrow waged war within Legolas. Seeing Pippin and Merry, knowing that he was not the last of Fellowship Company, that had surely saved his very soul. But now, as he wrote down another name to the death toll, sorrow tried to reclaim him. The fallen had been good men, his friends, his brothers, no matter what ranks separated them.
"Any word on Frodo?...Sam?" a voice said quietly behind Legolas, startling him. Turning around, he saw the anxious look on Pippin's face.
"No..none. Do you know where they headed last night? East? West?" Legolas questioned, hoping to cover up his own worry for his friends.
But Pippin shook his head, "Aragorn ordered us to scatter quickly and we all did that." The horrible memories of the attack darkened his eyes. "We were supposed to all rendezvous back here. He said we couldn't hope to take Foy on our own or even keep our positions a secret for long."
"How are Foy's fortifications?" Legolas asked, studying the other officer closely.
"Strong...too strong," the 2nd sergeant admitted bitterly.
Legolas put a hand on Pippin's shoulder, "We'll get the job done, Pippin. We always do," but the confident tone was forced and the twinkle that was usually in Legolas's eyes was overshadowed by sorrow.
Rallying marginally with the lieutenant's words, Pippin smiled back weakly, "You're right, Legolas. Let me know if you hear anything about...well about the other officers, alright?"
"I will," Legolas agreed and watched as the other men walked back into the camp.
Turning his focus again to the north, he waited to hear the whistled tune of his company, heralding more returning brothers. As night began to fall, he still waited on the edge of the forest, straining to hear above the night sounds a faint whistle that Aragorn had taught his men as a signal, a signal that had surely saved Pippin and Merry from being shot this afternoon.
"You're still protecting your men, Aragorn," Legolas thought and a sad, proud smile pulled onto his face.
He almost jumped when that very whistle came from the darkness. Whistling back he waited as the figures drew closer, all the while the two privates flanking Legolas sighted on the unrecognizable visitors. The two guards had been posted at the order of Denethor, who worried that the enemy would try to enter the camp just by mimicking the ridiculously childish code Aragorn had created for his company..
When the moonlight allowed Legolas to see the approaching soldier's faces, he announced softly to the two guards, "Clear," and was relieved when they lowered their guns. The fear that some of the returning company would get shot by friendly fire was a constant in Legolas's mind. That was at least one of the reasons he stood on the border of the forest all day long...even after Denethor had tried to have someone replace him at the post.
A smile lit up Legolas's face as a group of 20 men emerged from the darkness of the forest, two of which he knew better than he knew his friends back in the states. "You two are always bringing up the rear," he taunted but his smile belied his words.
2nd sergeant Frodo Baggins laughed, "Better to be in the rear then point." And he engulfed Legolas in a hug as 2nd sergeant Sam Gamgee ordered the rest of the men with them to head into the camp.
Then Sam came up to Legolas, and scolded with humor in his eyes, "You're AWOL from the aid station, aren't you? You just couldn't stand the fact that we might be off getting more medals while all you were going to get was a purple heart."
True laughter broke from Legolas, "There's no fooling you, Sam," and he pulled the other men into a hug.
When they broke apart, Legolas felt the weight of the two men's stare upon him. He knew the question they wanted to ask. "So far 18 dead and 16 wounded."
"22 dead," Frodo corrected before clarifying the tally with names, "Philips, Marsh, Fulton and Harris."
Legolas's jaw clenched as he tried to not recall the last time he had spent with Marsh. But it did no good. He vividly remembered his debate with the other man on which big band was the best. The other three men he had not known well but he had liked them all the same.
"And from our group?" Sam quietly inquired. He did not need to say their names for Legolas knew to whom he referred. The officers of Fellowship Company had bonded together from the very start...it was their fate Sam needed to know.
"Pippin and Merry were the first back here...Denethor almost shot them," he began with the easiest to tell, tacking on the humor.
"Typical Denethor," Frodo chuckled, 'Shoot first and ask questions later."
But Sam could see the sadness Legolas was trying hard to conceal. "Gimli? Boromir? " then he paused and forced out as if he didn't dare say the name, fearing that it represented some hope, "Aragorn?"
Meeting his friend's eyes, Legolas shook his head, "I don't know. We still have twenty nine of the company unaccounted for ..." he let the sentence fall away unwilling to offer up hope when it seemed there was so little.
Seeing how this news sat heavily upon the sergeants, Legolas again tried to lighten the mood, "You better head to camp. Word is Merry's going to do some impressions of Denethor after chow," and he nodded toward the camp.
"If he gets caught at it..." Sam began as he led the way to the camp.
But Frodo interrupted, as he trailed his friend. "Now that would be entertaining!"
Legolas again turned to the dark forest around him, wishing to hear again the crunch of footsteps upon the snow or the faint whistle he had come to dearly love. But the night had fallen silent and the darkness hid the purity that the white snow had offered him in the daylight. Taking up his vigil again, he knew deep down that he was waiting for the one person odds said was never going to appear. But hope was a hard thing to abandon.
TBC
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Thank you my reviewers and everyone who took a moment to read this fic.
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Leap: Thanks for the review!!! I'm glad you "love" it!!! Everyone else seems a little leery of the AU idea so I REALLY appreciate your positive response to it. Hope to hear from you again!
Frodo16424: Thanks for the review and not hating me for making everyone human!! Looking forward to your next review.
Elfmage: Hey, you're still reading!! Great! I'm glad you haven't been disappointed yet and are understanding about my mistakes. Yes Denethor is evil and see, the whole company is not lost. Can't wait to hear your thoughts on this chapter
Rabbit of Iron: I guess I'm glad I'm got an original idea with this plot but it seems a little lonely out here on point. I feel like I'm setting myself up for the slaughter but I just couldn't not write and post this story. As for the title, as you can see I took your advice. I truly stink at titles and descriptions so any help is always appreciated.
Raiden: If you're still reading...a big thank you for the military info you supplied. It's really helping with the writing of this story.
Till tomorrow...
Cheryl W.
Cheryl W.
Disclaimer: Disclaimer: I don't own The Lord of the Rings or anything in conjunction with The Lord of the Rings. I also do not own Band of Brothers or anything in conjunction with Band of Brothers. Nor am I making a profit from this story. No copyright infringement is intended.
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Chapter 3
Pride and duty warred within Legolas. He did not want to endure the humiliating tongue lashing Denethor would unleash on him if he asked the captain to repeat his orders. But, on the other hand, he also wanted to perform his assigned duty. He owed that to these men that surrounded him now. Inhaling the crisp cool air of the forest, Legolas tried to come to a decision on what to do. Of its own accord, his mind thought of what he would do if he had this exact occurrence with Aragorn...if it were Aragorn's orders he had not heard. The answer was instantaneous and without doubt: He would request Aragorn to repeat the orders.
Even with that clear indication of his correct path, Legolas remained immobile. 'Aragorn would not chew me out though,' he silently argued but then painfully realized he spoke of his friend as if he were still among the living. A sob began to climb up his throat. Never again would he share the exasperated 'can-you-believe-the-mess-we're-in' looks with Aragorn. Or hear the other man's steady voice amid the chaos of battle, quelling his men's fears and steering them unswervingly through danger. But worst of all, Legolas would never again be engulfed in the comfort of his friend's presence.
Quickly, Legolas cut through the forest, past the men and the foxholes to a secluded area that still knew the quiet of winter. Bracing his hands on a tree, he bent his head until it rested on the tree trunk and he let the sobs escape his barriers. Yes, he had seen many die..some quick, some painstakingly slow and a small part of him mourned for all of them. But this loss...this was like a knife into his heart. Aragorn was the brother he had always dreamed of having ...and the rest of the company...they had come to mean more to him than he realized...until now. This pain could not be locked away...to try to do that would break him. More sobs tore from him as memories flashed through his mind. Surviving was turning out to be the worst fate he had ever envisioned.
Drawing in a steadying breath moments later, Legolas pushed away from the tree and wiped at the tears that still tracked down his ice cold cheeks. He could not bring them back...nor could he change his own fate. There was only one thing he could do for his brothers....carry on...fight the good fight...and maintain the honor that was Fellowship Company.
Determinedly he headed back to the fox holes, to Denethor. He would not let these men down, not for the sake of his pride. He would ask the captain to repeat his orders and he would take the abuse he knew he rightly deserved for his inattention. He did not have the luxury of letting his emotions reign, not here, not now.
Reaching the nearest fox hole, Legolas bent down and questioned the two soldiers who were shivering in their hole. "Where's Captain Denethor?"
The younger looking soldier pointed north, "He's checking out the front line, sir."
"Thanks," Legolas said as he stood and began to walk through the snow enshrouded forest to the front line...the front line that was the last resting place of his company. At first his steps were strong, unwavering, the white world around him somehow comforting to his troubled soul but when he caught sight of the charred trees, the blackened ground his steps faltered and he couldn't draw in a breath. The fires had burned fiercely, without mercy, leaving only black ash in it's place...in their place. Swallowing hard, he tried to not be ill.
He jumped when a hand came down heavily on his shoulder and he swung around to see Captain Gondor at his side, wearing an expression of displeasure. "What are you doing here, lieutenant?!"
Off balance at the sight before him, Legolas's prepared words would not come.
"I'm waiting for an explanation, Mirkwood."
Meeting the captain's eyes head on, Legolas steadily asked, "What were my orders again, sir?"
Frustration swept over Denethor's features and he let out a string of curses. "You're useless, Mirkwood. You know that, right?"
Sensing the man wanted an answer, Legolas replied, "Yes, sir. I am useless."
"I don't need any more useless "officers"," the captain sneered.
"No sir, you don't. I will not disappoint you again," Legolas promised, his oath more to honor his fallen comrades than any respect he gave to the man before him.
To this, Denethor snorted but his verbal response was cut off as a low whistle rent the air. Immediately Denethor unslung his rifle. With the white fog holding the forest in its grip, visibility was poor within a couple of yards from the captain's position. All he could do was sight his weapon in the direction he perceived the sound to have emanated. When the whistle came again, Denethor cocked his gun and waited for a target to come within his sights.
Hearing the whistle the first time, Legolas had stiffen as if struck. It could not be...it was a trick of his mind...a wish of his heart. But when the short whistled tune came again out of the white world around him, he could not deny it's reality. Turning to Denethor, he was terrified to see the captain ready to release a round.
"No!" Legolas yelled as he stepped in front of the other man and yanked the gun's muzzle upward. Before the captain could vent his anger, Legolas explained, "It's Fellwoship Company's code, sir."
"Look around, Lieutenant!" Denathor hissed back, his eyes searing into Legolas's as he ripped his gun from the other man's hold. "No one survived this!"
"Someone has!" Legolas countered, turning and letting his eyes scan the woods around him as he sent out his own whistle of reply. His heart thudded in his chest in anticipation and fear. He did not know who would walk from the woods...and he could not bear to hope falsely...he could not bear to feel the loss anew.
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A moment later, Legolas could see movement in the north of their position. Slowly the white fog gave way to a number of figures trudging through the snow. Legolas and Denethor tensed, but for entirely different reasons. Denethor tightly gripped his gun, fearing an attack, while Legolas grasped onto the renewed hope for the return of those he believed lost to him.
Finally the men began to emerge from the thickness of the fog. "Legolas, that you?" came echoing through the still forest.
Joy and relief tore through Legolas. He knew that voice. "Merry!" Forgetting Denethor's presence, Legolas ran forward to greet the returning soldiers. As he came upon the group of men, he readily took in the presence of every man in the group of fourteen. His eyes swept over the twelve privates and two sergeants, quickly assessing them, finding them looking exhausted but uninjured. His focus returned to the two men he considered some of his closest friends. "Pippin! I shoulda known where there's one of you, the other is bound to be near by!" he called out before pulling the two sergeants into a fierce three way hug.
"Report, soldiers!" Captain Gondor's demanding voice broke the men apart like scolded school boys. "Where have you been? Are there any other survivors?" his look swinging from Sergeant Brandybuck to Sergeant Took.
Sergeant Brandybuck swiftly answered, "We've been holding on the outskirts of Foy."
Before the sergeant could continue his narrative, Denethor cut in with sharp disapproval, "Outskirts of Foy?! No orders were given to advance that far."
Impatience ate at Legolas, goading him to cut into the military squabble and demand that one of the sergeants answer Denethor's second question, the question he himself could not find the strength to utter. 'Are there any other survivors?' But his training kept him quiet. Always he had to be a soldier first.
Offended at the captain's words, Sergeant Took firmly relayed the prior night's events. "When the shelling started last night, fire swept everywhere. We were cut off from retreating and to the east and west were enemy troops. So Captain Thorongil ordered us forward."
Relief drenched Legolas at the mention of Aragorn and, abandoning the disciplines of his rank, he interrupted Captain Denethor's interrogation. "The captain...where is he?"
Overriding the lieutenant's question, Denethor reacted to Pippin's report, "He didn't have the authority to make that order. Our orders are clear: to keep the front line here," and he pointed emphatically to the forest ground, "not to go traipsing over the countryside of Foy!"
It was Merry who sharply retorted, "If the captain didn't make that decision, our whole company would be gone!" Seeing the anger flare in the officer's eyes, Merry compliantly added, "Sir."
But Denethor's anger could not be soothed by a "sir". "He will answer to command for that decision," he darkly promised, eyeing all three soldiers before him. Then he settled his look upon Pippin, "And when can we expect Throngil to make an appearance?" his disdain tainting every word.
A worried look passed over both sergeants' features and Legolas felt like he was again in the aid station...dreading the news from the front.
"When we were advancing forward, Boromir's platoon, which was taking point, stumbled upon a large enemy contingent. Captain Throngil decided to use the platoon to draw the enemy away from the rest of the company." Here Pippin's eyes swung to Legolas and he quietly addressed his next words to the 2nd lieutenant. "The Captain led the platoon. We heard them engage the enemy for a long time as we made for Foy...and then everything got quiet."
Stunned, Legolas could not move, could not draw in a breath. He knew what Pippin was telling him.. what he was not telling him. Chances were high that Captain Aragorn Thorongil had sacrificed his life in the defense of his men. For the first time, Legolas cursed honor and loyalty and even love. They all came at too high a price.
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Over the next hours, more men from Fellowship Company straggled into camp, all cold, some wounded but amazingly alive. Denethor had put Legolas in charge of giving out orders to those returning survivors of his company, getting the wounded to the aid station and tallying the dead. It was both a joyous task and a heartbreaking one. For every friend who stepped from the fog, he found himself forced to tally another onto the death toll. So far he knew the shelling had killed 15 men from the company and wounded 11 and 3 more had been killed and 5 more wounded when they were discovered on the perimeter of Foy.
Happiness and sorrow waged war within Legolas. Seeing Pippin and Merry, knowing that he was not the last of Fellowship Company, that had surely saved his very soul. But now, as he wrote down another name to the death toll, sorrow tried to reclaim him. The fallen had been good men, his friends, his brothers, no matter what ranks separated them.
"Any word on Frodo?...Sam?" a voice said quietly behind Legolas, startling him. Turning around, he saw the anxious look on Pippin's face.
"No..none. Do you know where they headed last night? East? West?" Legolas questioned, hoping to cover up his own worry for his friends.
But Pippin shook his head, "Aragorn ordered us to scatter quickly and we all did that." The horrible memories of the attack darkened his eyes. "We were supposed to all rendezvous back here. He said we couldn't hope to take Foy on our own or even keep our positions a secret for long."
"How are Foy's fortifications?" Legolas asked, studying the other officer closely.
"Strong...too strong," the 2nd sergeant admitted bitterly.
Legolas put a hand on Pippin's shoulder, "We'll get the job done, Pippin. We always do," but the confident tone was forced and the twinkle that was usually in Legolas's eyes was overshadowed by sorrow.
Rallying marginally with the lieutenant's words, Pippin smiled back weakly, "You're right, Legolas. Let me know if you hear anything about...well about the other officers, alright?"
"I will," Legolas agreed and watched as the other men walked back into the camp.
Turning his focus again to the north, he waited to hear the whistled tune of his company, heralding more returning brothers. As night began to fall, he still waited on the edge of the forest, straining to hear above the night sounds a faint whistle that Aragorn had taught his men as a signal, a signal that had surely saved Pippin and Merry from being shot this afternoon.
"You're still protecting your men, Aragorn," Legolas thought and a sad, proud smile pulled onto his face.
He almost jumped when that very whistle came from the darkness. Whistling back he waited as the figures drew closer, all the while the two privates flanking Legolas sighted on the unrecognizable visitors. The two guards had been posted at the order of Denethor, who worried that the enemy would try to enter the camp just by mimicking the ridiculously childish code Aragorn had created for his company..
When the moonlight allowed Legolas to see the approaching soldier's faces, he announced softly to the two guards, "Clear," and was relieved when they lowered their guns. The fear that some of the returning company would get shot by friendly fire was a constant in Legolas's mind. That was at least one of the reasons he stood on the border of the forest all day long...even after Denethor had tried to have someone replace him at the post.
A smile lit up Legolas's face as a group of 20 men emerged from the darkness of the forest, two of which he knew better than he knew his friends back in the states. "You two are always bringing up the rear," he taunted but his smile belied his words.
2nd sergeant Frodo Baggins laughed, "Better to be in the rear then point." And he engulfed Legolas in a hug as 2nd sergeant Sam Gamgee ordered the rest of the men with them to head into the camp.
Then Sam came up to Legolas, and scolded with humor in his eyes, "You're AWOL from the aid station, aren't you? You just couldn't stand the fact that we might be off getting more medals while all you were going to get was a purple heart."
True laughter broke from Legolas, "There's no fooling you, Sam," and he pulled the other men into a hug.
When they broke apart, Legolas felt the weight of the two men's stare upon him. He knew the question they wanted to ask. "So far 18 dead and 16 wounded."
"22 dead," Frodo corrected before clarifying the tally with names, "Philips, Marsh, Fulton and Harris."
Legolas's jaw clenched as he tried to not recall the last time he had spent with Marsh. But it did no good. He vividly remembered his debate with the other man on which big band was the best. The other three men he had not known well but he had liked them all the same.
"And from our group?" Sam quietly inquired. He did not need to say their names for Legolas knew to whom he referred. The officers of Fellowship Company had bonded together from the very start...it was their fate Sam needed to know.
"Pippin and Merry were the first back here...Denethor almost shot them," he began with the easiest to tell, tacking on the humor.
"Typical Denethor," Frodo chuckled, 'Shoot first and ask questions later."
But Sam could see the sadness Legolas was trying hard to conceal. "Gimli? Boromir? " then he paused and forced out as if he didn't dare say the name, fearing that it represented some hope, "Aragorn?"
Meeting his friend's eyes, Legolas shook his head, "I don't know. We still have twenty nine of the company unaccounted for ..." he let the sentence fall away unwilling to offer up hope when it seemed there was so little.
Seeing how this news sat heavily upon the sergeants, Legolas again tried to lighten the mood, "You better head to camp. Word is Merry's going to do some impressions of Denethor after chow," and he nodded toward the camp.
"If he gets caught at it..." Sam began as he led the way to the camp.
But Frodo interrupted, as he trailed his friend. "Now that would be entertaining!"
Legolas again turned to the dark forest around him, wishing to hear again the crunch of footsteps upon the snow or the faint whistle he had come to dearly love. But the night had fallen silent and the darkness hid the purity that the white snow had offered him in the daylight. Taking up his vigil again, he knew deep down that he was waiting for the one person odds said was never going to appear. But hope was a hard thing to abandon.
TBC
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Thank you my reviewers and everyone who took a moment to read this fic.
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Leap: Thanks for the review!!! I'm glad you "love" it!!! Everyone else seems a little leery of the AU idea so I REALLY appreciate your positive response to it. Hope to hear from you again!
Frodo16424: Thanks for the review and not hating me for making everyone human!! Looking forward to your next review.
Elfmage: Hey, you're still reading!! Great! I'm glad you haven't been disappointed yet and are understanding about my mistakes. Yes Denethor is evil and see, the whole company is not lost. Can't wait to hear your thoughts on this chapter
Rabbit of Iron: I guess I'm glad I'm got an original idea with this plot but it seems a little lonely out here on point. I feel like I'm setting myself up for the slaughter but I just couldn't not write and post this story. As for the title, as you can see I took your advice. I truly stink at titles and descriptions so any help is always appreciated.
Raiden: If you're still reading...a big thank you for the military info you supplied. It's really helping with the writing of this story.
Till tomorrow...
Cheryl W.