Disclaimer: I asked my cat if I owned LOTR. He stared at me and then closed his eyes and went back to sleep. I'm pretty sure that translates to something along the lines of "No. I want food. Feed me."
A/N: Well, this chapter would have been up sooner, had it not been for the fact that it's been rather difficult to write. Anyway…
Does anyone remember the good old days on ff.net? When the music group categories were still up and they let the occasional actor fic be posted in the LOTR section? I've been cleaning out my hard drive and transferring files to my laptop (which I have to use for school—they think it will help if I type my notes in class rather than write them—so now I'll just get Carpal Tunnel Syndrome and die—well, probably not die…sorry, me and my irrational fears again…) and I found the very first fic I posted on ff.net. It was called That Summer and it was a Backstreet Boys fic—not a very well-written one mind you (I've just reread it and in some parts I'm not sure what I was talking about), but it bears sentimental value for me. Anyway, I got to reminiscing about how the site used to be before they banned lists, interactive fics, the music group fics, and messed with other parts of the site. Sigh. I wish they'd reverse their policies, but I guess there's not a lot I can do about it except sigh wistfully with a far off look in my eye. Well, maybe not to that extreme, but you get the idea.
Thank you all for the fabulous reviews! You all rock! Ah…reviews make me giddy…particularly because we're nearing the 500 mark. Gasp! (puts a hand to her forehead and faints overdramatically).
Oh…quick shout-out type thing—to Ashes Kittyhawk: Sorry I made you choke on your water! Don't sue! Just kidding! At least it didn't get on the screen! And Ravyn: nooo…it doesn't have anything to do with my driving abilities (shifty eyes). I'm a good driver! I brake for squirrels!
The time issue—as far as I can tell, it took about three days to get to Helm's Deep from Edoras and the battle with the Wargs occurred on the third day. Please let me know if I've grossly over or underestimated (or misunderestimated, if you're the president…sorry, couldn't resist the Bushism…). I swear, someone needs to write a LOTR guide for fanfic writers because this time thing is confusing…
ALSO: Regarding Helm's Deep (cue dramatic music)…PJ and Company took some liberties with the plot (i.e. the Elves coming to save the day and Haldir dying). I'm keeping the Elves in because they rock and using the script and movie for battle sequences is one heck of a lot easier than trying to use the book. ANYWAY, I've received several pleas (mostly from Sephoria) to use my Mighty Authoress Powers and let Haldir live. So, I thought I'd put it up for you all to decide: should Haldir die (cue tortured sobs from Haldir fan girls) or live (cue cheers from previously distraught fan girls) in this fic?
Haldir: I have fan girls?
Kat: Well, Hal, it appears that every male in LOTR (especially elves) has some sort of cult following of obsessively devoted fan girls (maybe with the exception of Gimli, but anything's possible…), so I'm guessing that you do too.
Haldir: Yay! Wait till I tell Legolas! (skips off screaming "I'm going to get glomped!")
Kat: …Well, that was rather disturbing…
Correction: Whoops. Wind Elf has since changed her name to Piratess of the Caribbean. Sorry about that. I need to pay more attention. Anyway, her lyrics still rock and all that good stuff. Sorry again!
Okay, I gotta say it: GO CUBBIES! WOO HOO!
[EDIT (OCTOBER 16): Dammit. WHY? One game! Just one! Well it's not like I wasn't warned. Oh well…maybe next year. So…my support goes to the Red Sox (who will hopefully win tonight. Knock on wood).]
[EDIT (OCTOBER 17): Dammit! WHY? WHY DO ALL MY TEAMS HAVE TO LOSE?!?!?! Arghhhhhhhhh…this is crazy…they were winning! Damn. Well…I normally don't care about these things…but it was the Cubs and the Red Sox…I wish the Bulls would get their act together. They kicked ass in '98. Why do Chicago sports teams have to suck? Okay, I'm done. Onto the fic…
WARNING: For those faint of heart…Haley uses the f-word. Once. But I thought I should mention it just in case.
Chapter Thirty-Three
The second day of our journey passed uneventfully—in fact, I believe that I would have received the same amount of mental stimulation had I decided to sleep through the entire day rather than plodding along at Legolas' side, regularly complaining about everything within a ten foot radius. Consequently, Gimli and I bickered constantly, the subject usually being something ridiculously stupid (as in I was laughing too frequently or too loudly, an infraction that Gimli felt was punishable by death or something equally unpleasant). Legolas was often forced to act as a mediator in these delicate situations and his so-called solutions can be summed down to: "Gimli, put the axe down. Haley, I need to speak with you for a moment." The both of us would then take an extended leave of absence from Gimli (apparently Legolas has not yet been informed that a moment traditionally lasts a little over a minute) so he could deliver a quiet lecture without Gimli's unhelpful interruptions. I would listen for about three minutes before my mind started to wander, floating briefly back to reality only when Legolas gently tugged on my sleeve and demanded to know if I was listening.
He really needs to stop asking stupid questions.
Aragorn was oddly detached throughout the entire day, rarely bothering to throw a look of reproach in my direction, which was highly unusual to say the least. Instead, he stared quietly off into the distance, his eyes focused on something visible only to him, his hand often resting on the crystal pendant he wore about his neck. Even if I hadn't already known that it had previously belonged to Arwen, I would have been able to make that conclusion solely by his rather sappy expression, which was slightly reminiscent of "My Little Pony".
I stared intently at the horizon as Legolas yakked on. It was the first time in months that I had really given much thought to Arwen—during that time she had quietly and almost unnoticeably slipped into the part of my mind filled with the faces of those who were once a large part of my life. The sight of the pendant had suddenly brought about the stunning, yet glaringly obvious realization that Aragorn had been bearing this grief for the past few months without comment. It struck me as both odd and stupid that I had never noticed before. I had come to think of Aragorn as totally devoted to the quest for the Ring and not possessing any other personal issues. He must have thought about Arwen every day and I don't doubt that he dreamt mostly of her at night. It was difficult to imagine the amount of pain this separation caused and nearly impossible to determine how he managed to keep it to himself.
Then again, it would probably help if I paid closer attention…
I glanced up at Aragorn again and tried to subtly get a closer look without attracting the attention of both him and Legolas. There was a noticeable change in his eyes that was nagging at me incessantly. For one of the first times ever, I could see through the walls he had so carefully built around himself—it was like I was watching his heart break over and over again through the windows of his eyes, a ceaseless cycle that could move even the hardest of heart. Worried, concerned, and generally troubled by this display, I tapped him on the knee (Mr. Lecturer of Tedious Doom and I had been walking alongside him for quiet some while).
"Hey," I said quietly. He started slightly in his saddle. I regarded him thoughtfully before continuing, "Are you okay?" He relaxed slightly at this, his eyes clouding over in that familiar veil that I had always incorrectly assumed was normal. He offered a weak smile.
"I…I'm rather tired…" he replied unconvincingly. I nodded hesitantly and made an attempt at a consoling smile.
"Well…uh…if you need to talk or anything…" I trailed off. It was extremely bizarre trying to offer help and support to someone who had appointed himself as my own personal mentor (I'm still not sure why—safety issues and preservation of sanity, most likely). He nodded softly in response
"Thank you," he said, patting me on the head as an afterthought. I tried my best sympathetic smile again, but I felt like some sort of Disney cartoon character on drugs (specifically Bambi) and decided that it was best to just look concerned and leave it at that. There would be no getting through to him, especially if I scared the crap out of him with odd faces.
Legolas suddenly cleared his throat rather noisily and raised his eyebrows disapprovingly in my direction. I immediately recalled that he had sort of been in the middle of a sentence when I had started talking to Aragorn. Oops.
"Um…hi!" I tried, grinning widely in attempt to prove my innocence. "You know, this isn't what it looks like." He raised an eyebrow again, completely unconvinced. "I was really paying attention to what you were saying…I was just distracted for a moment…or two…" I smiled again. "Really, I was," I added for effect.
"You were not," he replied, uninfluenced by the unelaborated lie I had spontaneously constructed. There is just no appreciation for true art these days.
"Yes I was," I insisted, nodding enthusiastically, hoping for once that the Jedi Mind Trick really worked.
It was a losing argument and the Force had apparently abandoned me. Legolas eventually beat me into submission through torture (i.e. constant eyebrow raising and giving me that little look of his). As punishment, I was forced to endure another ten-minute lecture on my short attention span complete with helpful hints and friendly advice from Aragorn (who, as far as I'm concerned, should've stuck with his ruminations and kept his big mouth shut). Eventually, they both came back to my tendency to pick fights with Gimli, which they avidly discussed for the better part of the hour. In the end, they came to the conclusion that I needed to behave myself, lay off the sarcasm, and pay more attention. At least I think that was the gist of it. I was busy debating whether or not to bring about my revenge in the form of song and dance at the time of their discussion, and that alone is distracting enough without having to actually listen to what was being said.
***
The next morning dawned bright and clear, the air cold enough to feel sharp and fresh in my lungs, but warm enough to get away with wearing lighter clothing. The brightness of the early morning sun and the pleasantly cool air promised a good day ahead.
Too bad Gimli had to go and ruin it.
I admit that it was partially my fault, but it wasn't at all intentional. I would like to stress that Gimli was the one who woke up in his usual cheerful mood that is often associated with irate mountain lions. Our disagreement broke out over a milk spillage I had accidentally caused at breakfast. Now, a sane person would be a little annoyed, but able to shrug off the incident as a mere attack of klutziness and not become homicidal. Needless to say, Gimli is not a normal person nor is he completely sane, and therefore his reaction was completely irrational, or in other words, stupid. Since most of the milk ended up in his lap, he saw this as cause enough for nuclear war.
"Gimli…friend…buddy…pal…" I said to the disgruntled Dwarf, trying to ignore the growing ache in my head. My monthly friend had arrived that morning in all its glory and I was feeling hideously bloated and incredibly crabby. "I'm sorry that I got milk all over you. But you have to realize it was an accident."
"It was deliberate!" he retaliated, glaring fiercely at me as he wiped at the spill with a napkin. Anger and general bitchiness boiled in my stomach (or maybe it was just the porridge) and I fought to remain calm.
"It. Was. An. Accident," I replied through clenched teeth, twisting my shirt in my hands.
"I'll have none of your lies!" Gimli snapped, throwing the napkin down and smashing it beneath his boot. "It was intentional!"
Breathe deeply…count to ten before you say anything… I told myself, sucking air in through clenched teeth. One…two…three…four—what the— screw it! That little twerp just called me a liar!
That was about the point when the Big Mean Menstrual Monster took charge of things. Our argument quickly escalated into a shouting match as I started slinging insults. Gimli retaliated by shouting back until his face grew red with anger. Our quarrel was quickly and rather unexpectedly ended by Aragorn when he loudly declared that he needed Gimli's help elsewhere. He frowned at me as he calmly took the Dwarf's arm and forcefully yanked him along. Legolas took the hint and oh-so-conveniently remembered that I had promised to help him saddle up the horses (which is a bunch of crap, but he wasn't listening to me at that point). We departed with Gimli calling me a "lying, good-for-nothing, idiot Elf" and me replying that he was just a "stupid midget with PMS and a brain the size of a walnut." I had wanted to add that his beard looked like a dead squirrel, but Legolas, having decided that he heard enough, firmly clamped his hand over my mouth before I could do more damage.
Which, despite the circumstances was kind of nice.
"He started it," I insisted once Legolas released his hand. "I apologized and he starts acting like a friggin'…" Legolas silenced me with a wave of his hand. I grumbled irritably.
"I think you've done enough talking for the time being," he replied once I stopped talking. I sighed and fumed in silence, occasionally grumbling aloud.
"One Midol! Just one! Is that so much to ask?" I demanded sometime later. Legolas looked at me curiously before shaking his head, no doubt deciding that it was better not to ask.
***
Aragorn appeared some time later while Legolas and I were saddling up the horses (or rather, I handed him stuff while he did most of the work that required actual thinking). The Ranger's eyebrows were drawn together in a frown and the corners of his mouth pointed downward, suggesting that he was more than a little stressed. However, I couldn't really blame him, seeing as he had just spent half an hour with an angry Dwarf.
"Haley," he began tiredly. I sighed.
"Okay, I know that I was maybe a little out of line saying some of the things I did, but I was totally provoked…" I interrupted, gesturing wildly with my hands. After having a little time to cool down and reflect on what had transpired, I had determined that I might not have reacted in the best way possible, despite the fact that I did have some snappy comebacks.
However, I still blamed Gimli for pretty much everything.
"Haley," he repeated, holding up a hand to discourage further interruption on my part. I reluctantly shut my mouth and waited for him to continue. "You will not be anywhere near Gimli today. You will be spending your time near the front of the procession so that you might do something useful. I would have that you reflect on your actions so that you might not be so rash in the future." He was clearly disappointed in me, and despite my tendency not to give a horse's ass about things like authority and what others thought about me, I was embarrassed. I guess it was mostly because Aragorn obviously wasn't having such a great time yesterday and I felt bad for causing him to go through unnecessary stress.
"I'm sorry," I offered after a moment. Aragorn looked at me contemplatively for a moment before placing a hand on my shoulder.
"No apology is necessary," he replied. "However, you do owe one to Master Gimli and I expect you to have made amends by nightfall." I hesitated before nodding reluctantly, hoping that he'd give up and leave me alone so I could fume in peace. He smiled slightly and gently squeezed my shoulder and spoke briefly with Legolas before departing and leaving us to the horses.
"Let me guess," I said as soon as Aragorn had left. "I have another fun-filled day of Legolas to look forward to." I picked up one of the saddle blankets lying on the ground, absentmindedly picking at the dead yellow grass that had clung to the wool.
"Essentially, yes," Legolas replied, taking the blanket from my hands and gently smoothing it over the horse's back.
"Could we at least forgo the whole Sindarin part?" I asked hopefully as I bent down to retrieve the saddle, nearly dropping it twice in the process. He shook his head.
"No."
"Why not?" I inquired, shifting the bulky weight in my arms.
"Punishment," he replied with a hint of a smile. "Aragorn suggested it." I groaned and he laughed softly. I held out the saddle for him to take.
"You're both insufferable."
***
The worst part of the whole ordeal was that we had to walk because Gimli had decided he wanted to be a pain in the butt and insist upon riding Legolas' horse (I don't know why, seeing as he hates riding with a passion). So I reluctantly plodded alongside Legolas, leading Larien by the reins and speaking only to translate something from Sindarin into English or vice versa. I'd occasionally say something in French just to be annoying (like "You are wearing a blue hat" or "It is raining outside. Would you care for an umbrella?"). I thought it was pretty funny, but the amusement started to wear off when he started saying things about me in Sindarin or some other obscure form of Elvish.
The hours passed tediously in one big blur of Sindarin, which was not very pleasant, mind you. I walked almost in a half-sleep, responding only when asked a question. In short, it was incredibly boring, despite the fact that I was spending a large amount of time with a person I found very attractive.
It wasn't until about midday when Legolas stopped asking questions altogether. Instead he concentrated on the landscape surrounding us, his eyes rapidly flicking back and forth across the horizon.
"What's wrong with you?" I asked after several minutes of this unexplained silence. He didn't respond right away and continued to search the surroundings meticulously with his keen azure eyes. He then halted unexpectedly, causing me to trip and almost fall, which started Larien slightly. She snorted indignantly and pawed at the ground.
"I do not know," he said finally as I attempted to untangle myself from the reins. "Something draws near…" I nearly dropped the reins as a shudder ran up and down my spine. The last time he had said something similar we had been ambushed by Uruk-Hai and lost about half of our party. My grip on the reins tightened and my heartbeat increased steadily.
"What is it?" I asked as I transferred the reins to my left hand as I instinctively reached for the hilt of my sword. He shook his head and listened intently for a moment.
"I do not know…" he repeated.
"Well, what do we do? I mean we can't just stand here like a bunch of idiots…" I felt a sense of foreboding mixed with my general paranoid nature.
"Wait…" he said, silencing me as two guardsmen rode forward. They too had evidently noticed whatever had tipped Legolas off in the first place and were cautiously peering at their surroundings, tightening their grip on their reins as they narrowed their eyes at the rocky cliffs around them. One of the horses whinnied shrilly, tossing its head defiantly, and refused to go further. Larien suddenly stiffened and snorted loudly, the whites of her dark eyes visible. A sudden uneasiness gripped me. Larien possessed what appeared to be an incredibly tiny amount of actual intelligence and the fact that a horse that not only has the common sense of a cupcake but also routinely tried to consume substances that are not meant to be ingested, was significantly frightened by a lurking enemy scared the heck out of me.
"What is it?" one of the guardsmen asked over the horse's snorts and whinnies. "Hama?"
"I'm not sure…" the other replied uneasily.
It happened without warning, before I or anyone else could find the words to warn them of the shadow high upon the rocks. There was a snarl and the all-too-familiar skin-crawling screech of an Orc as the shadow sprung forth from the rocks up above. Unfortunately, the rogue Orc was not alone. It was perched atop a beast I had never seen before. It struck me as a slightly prehistoric combination of a hyena and a pit bull, with a large hunch in its back and large and bulky paws that appeared to hinder it slightly in the accuracy of its movements. Its face reminded me of a pug—its nose was slightly pushed inward, like it had run head on into a cement wall or something. Yellowed fangs glinted dangerously as it snapped at the empty air and coarse brown fur covered the entire expanse of its body, spiked in long tufts at its spine. The Orc was riding it like a horse, kicking it sharply as it made its quick descent down the rocks.
They were upon the guardsmen in seconds, slamming forcefully into the one called Hama. His horse was knocked over, most likely dead, and he was thrown to the ground several feet away. The creature snapped and growled while drool dripped from its horrible fangs as it made its way toward the fallen man, who was paralyzed with terror. I turned away as his horrible screams echoed through the air.
"Stay here," Legolas instructed, taking off before I could protest. Even though I resented the fact that he thought I couldn't handle it, fear and shock had me so paralyzed that at that point, I doubt I would have been able to do anything useful.
Hama's cries suddenly ceased and my stomach contracted in horror.
"Wargs!" shouted the remaining guardsman as he exchanged blows with the Orc. I hesitantly looked up just as Legolas released an arrow. The furred creature quickly fell to the ground with a strangled cry as the arrow found its mark in its heart. The Orc was flung to the ground several feet away. Now defenseless, it screamed in terror as Legolas drew near. Its cry was soon ended with a flick of a silver-bladed knife.
"A scout!" Legolas shouted to Aragorn, who had suddenly appeared at the top of the hill. He nodded and ran back down the other side as Legolas angrily kicked the lifeless body aside.
"What is it? What do you see?" I heard Théoden shout worriedly.
"Warg! We're under attack!" Aragorn yelled in reply. Screams and cries of adults and children alike quickly erupted in the air, the fear almost tangible.
"Haley!" Legolas shouted suddenly. I snapped out of my trance. "Get on the horse! Hurry!" I suddenly realized the gravity and urgency of the situation and quickly stuffed my foot in the stirrup and hoisted myself up into the saddle.
"All riders to the head of the column!" I heard Théoden yell over the din. I grasped the reins tightly in my hand.
"Be careful!" Legolas called as he ran off, most likely in search for the rest of the mounted Orc army. I got that familiar tweak in my stomach at the sound of those words despite the fact that he probably meant it simply as a friendly gesture. But it was enough.
"What the…this romance stuff is going to be the death of me," I muttered, shaking myself out of the sappy stupor I had fallen into. I gave Larien a sharp nudge and she shot up the hill.
The other side was complete mayhem, with women and children running every which way and the riders trying to make their way to the front. The noise had reached a spectacular level and the air was filled with screams and cries as fear set in.
"C'mon, get me up here, I'm a rider!" I heard Gimli growl. I looked up and saw a handful of guardsmen attempting to lift him up onto a horse. Since when? I thought to myself as he nearly fell off, provoking a shadow of a smile to tug at the corners of my lips. However, all traces of amusement quickly vanished as the faint sound of barking and howling reached my ears.
"You must lead the people to Helm's Deep," an authoritative voice close to my ear said. I turned around abruptly, wondering who in their right mind would trust me for a minute with something so important. I breathed a sigh of relief once I realized that the comment was directed at Éowyn. "And make haste." The speaker was Théoden, who had somehow managed to evade my attention in all the confusion.
Then again, that's not too hard in the first place…
"I can fight!" protested Éowyn, sticking her chin out defiantly.
"No!" Théoden responded, seeming slightly put out with his niece. Éowyn regarded him coolly and then shot a pointed look in my direction. I pretended to be incredibly interested in the reins, which probably didn't show off my competence, but there weren't a whole lot of other options. I felt a twinge of pity for her, seeing as she was being forced to stay behind; I would have gladly traded places with her, but I had no idea where Helm's Deep was, so I probably would have been more of a hindrance rather than an aide. "You must do this," Théoden said in a quieter tone. "For me." She turned from him, relaxing her hold on her horse. He seemed to take this as an act of submission and turned shouting "Follow me!" I risked a pitying look back at Éowyn before starting forward. She regarded me with an unreadable expression before turning away. Sighing, I gave Larien a nudge and merged with the team of riders heading forward into battle. I fell into place beside Aragorn, who gave me a weak smile before urging his horse onward. Éowyn's cries of instruction slowly faded as we rode onward to meet our foes.
As we climbed the hill, I heard an arrow sing as it flew through the air and distant canine howl as its deadly deed was done. Legolas slowly came into view, his bow drawn and arrows flying. As we mounted the crest of the hill, I could see the Orcs and wolfish creatures (or Wargs, as Aragorn and the other guardsman had called them) filling the valley below. I caught a glimpse of feet flying up in the air out of the corner of my eye, and for a moment I panicked, assuming Legolas had been run over in our advancing procession. However, it soon became clear that he had somehow managed to sling himself up onto his horse, without doing injury to himself or Gimli (who had been guiding the horse with an astounding lack of skill).
I made a mental note to later ask Legolas how the hell he did that and why didn't he teach me something useful like that instead of Sindarin.
As Larien galloped onward with the other horses, it soon became clear to me that we would be fighting this battle on horseback. I had sort of expected everyone to dismount and then run at the Orcs with weapons drawn. Instead, we were hurtling toward them at something like twenty miles an hour, and I had still failed to draw my sword. My thoughts on this were as follows:
Oh shit. WHY do I have to be such an idiot?
Grasping the reins with one hand, I managed to clumsily withdraw the sword from its scabbard, and not a moment too soon. Literally seconds after I had settled into a semi-comfortable position with my sword waving haphazardly in the air, the two forces met. Man and horse collided with Orc and Warg, smashing together with a sickening crunch, lifeless and unconscious bodies flung in every direction. Larien's frenzied cries rose to mingle with those of the other horses and I found myself screaming at the top of my lungs as I lunged at an Orc, sword pointing forward. Hissing, the reptilian creature dodged the brunt of my blow, escaping with a long scratch down the side of its cheek. It grinned hideously at me as its mount snapped and growled, preparing to lunge at Larien's throat.
However, at that point, Larien, relying on instinct passed down from generations of horses before her, immediately decided that whatever I thought we should do was wrong, ignored my sharp tugs on the reins, and bolted.
I spent a large amount of time trying to regain control of the black mare, hacking and slicing at the air around me, hoping to hit an enemy in a particularly vital area. I caught brief glimpses of men and beast alike falling to the ground in death as I struggled with Larien, and praying each time that the individual in question was not one of our men.
I know that I did kill several Orcs and severely disabled some (as in partially hacking off an arm before Larien got it in her mind to gallop off in another direction), but by the time Larien ceased to act on terror and began to calm down a little, the battle was just about finished, save for a few random half-dead Orcs and Wargs still crawling around on the ground (some, I noted, missing an arm).
"Larien…Larien…STOP DAMMIT!" I shouted, pulling back hard on the reins. Surprisingly, Larien came to a dead halt, the momentum throwing me forward in the saddle. Relieved and more than a little angry at the horse, I immediately dismounted, deciding that going on foot would be one hell of a lot safer than trying to ride Larien again, especially since most of the riding Orcs had since been disposed of, in addition to their canine mounts. I left her to graze on the hill, hoping that she wouldn't run off on me, and picked my way around the bodies, delivering a quick blow to those who were still living, mindful of the corpses of our own men scattered among them.
"Aragorn!" I heard Legolas call over the moans of the dying. I looked up from the Orc I had just decapitated, frowning thoughtfully at the groups of men wandering around the battleground. Not finding Aragorn's familiar tall form among them, I ran to catch up with Legolas.
"You haven't seen him?" I asked worriedly, scanning the landscape for clues. Legolas shook his head. I inhaled sharply as my heart tightened in my chest. This did not bode well…
"Aragorn!" shouted Gimli.
No response.
We drew near to the edge of one of the cliffs that had shaped the valley and a sickening feeling grasped my stomach. Legolas knelt down and examined the ground for some unknown reason. I wanted to point out that yes, that was the ground, but that shrewd observation didn't really help us in terms of finding Aragorn, but I thought that it was hardly appropriate to try to bring in humor into such a grave situation.
I was about to suggest checking for him among the wounded when a rattled and wheezing laugh broke through the air. I turned and found an Orc lying on the ground, face mutilated with various lacerations (or maybe that was just how it looked), black blood trickling out of its mouth, stomach heaving with laughter. I warily approached him with Legolas.
"Tell me what happened and I will ease your passing," Gimli offered menacingly, holding his axe over the dying creature. The Orc laughed again, coughing pathetically. Anger and hatred boiled in my cheeks.
"Where is he, you fucking bastard?" I snapped, infuriated that this wretched and useless creature would dare laugh at something that had the potential to affect the lives and fate of many. It continued to laugh and my fingers balled into fists.
"Gehh…he's…grhhh…dead," it gurgled in malicious delight. Fury turned into shock and I blanched, nausea brewing in my stomach. "He took a little tumble off the cliff." My heart stopped. It couldn't be true. It couldn't. Legolas stood over him a moment before kneeling down and forcefully taking him by the collar of his leather vest.
"You lie," he hissed vehemently, with more anger than I thought he could ever possess. The Orc was unaffected by this and continued to laugh. It suddenly choked and made a guttural sound, and then slowly let its last breath flow from its lungs, deflating slowly like a balloon. Legolas released him and let him drop to the ground. He then looked curiously at the Orc's hand before reaching and withdrawing something silver and sparkly. My breath caught in my throat.
Arwen's pendant.
I darted toward the cliff's edge where Théoden had been standing. I peered over the edge and into the rushing river below, searching for something, anything to discredit the Orc's testimony. There was no sign of him—not even a crumpled body on the rocks or a fragment of a familiar sword.
Just the pendant.
At that moment, my entire world collapsed. I wanted to scream and sob all at once, but all I could do was stand at the rocky precipice and stare into the cold, unfeeling water below. My heart contracted painfully in my chest as I realized what this meant. Aragorn was the heir to the throne, the one man who could unite the people, one who would lead us in victory against the forces of Mordor. Without him, there was simply no hope.
But even with all the prophecy stuff aside, Aragorn still was special to me—he was someone who didn't seem to have a specific role in my life; he was just Aragorn, someone who I could rely on. Now that he was gone, his presence seemed more essential than ever before and it seemed nearly impossible to leave that valley without him at my side, nagging at my lack of attention span, giving me that familiar warning look, or simply just being there, a comforting presence in this messed up world.
"Get the wounded on horses," Théoden said suddenly, snapping me out of the trance I had fallen into. "The wolves of Isengard will return." Even this failed to motivate me to leave. I didn't care anymore, not even for my own safety. Everything seemed pointless. "Leave the dead." I tensed up at his last words. How dare he even suggest we just leave without looking for Aragorn? If it wasn't for him and Gandalf, Théoden would still be under Saruman's control and his entire kingdom would be screwed. I weakly opened my mouth to protest and give the King a good piece of my mind, but found that I could no longer speak without feeling sick to my stomach. I slowly shut my mouth and stared intently at the river, searching for a sign of our lost companion. "Come," he said a little more gently, placing his hand on Legolas' shoulder. Legolas did not respond, looking instead at the water below, his brow wrinkled in worry. Théoden suppressed a sigh and departed from us, his cloak billowing in the wind.
I stared at the river for quite some time, immersed in my own confused and grief-stricken thoughts. I was in shock. I couldn't feel anything other than my heart beating in my chest. As the murky waters slipped away below, memories flooded through my head. Waking up in the hospital waiting room to a strange nurse informing me that my aunt had just passed away. Gandalf disappearing into the black abyss of Khazad-dûm with the fiery Balrog. Boromir taking his last breath in that Godforsaken forest on the Anduin. Sam and Frodo leaving for Mordor without a goodbye. Merry and Pippin being taken by the Uruk-Hai. And now this. Aragorn, the rock and foundation, the one who had assumed leadership of the Fellowship as we ran out of Moria, the one who had kept us going through everything, was gone. The future was now uncertain and about a thousand times scarier than it had been before.
But one of the worst parts was that I could not even begin to think of what I'd tell Arwen or imagine how painful this would be for her.
"Haley," Legolas said, gently tapping me on the shoulder. His face was slightly drawn and for the first time ever, a flicker of fear was present in his eyes. I looked at him blankly. "We have to go…they are preparing to depart." I looked at the river at back at him. Aragorn was dead. Legolas had silently confirmed it, leaving me feeling hopeless. Suddenly, I felt too tired, too world-weary to continue—I just wanted to go to sleep and wake up and find out that this whole tragedy was just a nightmare. Aragorn and Boromir would be alive, the hobbits would still be with us, and Gandalf would have ditched the white robes for his old, but familiar grey, ragged ones. Everything would go according to plan and we'd kick the shit out of Sauron and Saruman and all live happily ever after.
But at that point, it looked like things were going to continue on their crappy way, and everything seemed doomed to failure. A single hot tear rolled down my cheek. Legolas looked at me, his eyebrows slightly drawn together, before hooking his arm around my shoulder and gently guiding me away from the cliff, Gimli following closely behind. Incredibly conscious of the arm on my shoulders and the way that he pulled me closer when another tear trailed down my cheek, I felt a surge of mixed emotions: my extreme sadness did not change the way I felt about Legolas or the way I reacted (mainly by a huge adrenaline rush), but at the same time I hated myself for enjoying the warm presence on my shoulder when everything else was so screwed up—why should I, of all the people, be happy about something so trivial when there were so many others suffering because of Aragorn's death?
But the most overpowering thought of all was not about Aragorn or anyone else who died that day. As we made our way toward the remaining soldiers, that single thought echoed throughout my head:
I don't want to lose him next.
A/N: I know it's a little angsty…but Aragorn's near-death experience is kind of a emotional low point for everyone. And I've got some things in mind…hopefully this wasn't sappy. I tried to keep it down to earth and all, but it's hard to do that sometimes with really painful stuff…anyhow…this was a hard chapter to write and I really hope it turned out okay…I'll try to update soon. Twelve pages. I'm on a roll. Well…sorta…