Reviewer responses for Chapter 11:
Mornflower: Yep..trouble will be brewing soon. HEHE. Hope you like this post...
Tonianne: Thanks for reading, hope you enjoyed the vacation and sorry to hear you were sick.
Gozilla: Thanks!
Kelsey: I don't think Legolas really knows Graelath's feelings...but he IS perceptive I guess. The journey will be hard...but you shall see how it becomes easier for at least ONE of them...and as for Arwen..evil grin wait and see...
Chapter 12: A Healing and A Loss
A few days later...
Legolas and Gimli had never been to the Shire and Merry and Pippin delighted in telling them of it. "Oh, you will love it, Gimli!" Pippin laughed. "There is plenty to eat, all day long, and plenty of ale! And you will love the trees and fields, Legolas! We do not live in a cave, after all!"
The elf smiled. "The Shire does sound like a wonderful place, Pippin. I am certain we will enjoy it. But the trip is not all fun and games, for we ride to the Shire to protect it from attack."
The company had slowed to a trot; they needed to give the horses a break. Already, they had been riding for a few days and many of them were growing weary of the little rest and long hours riding.
Gimli was grumbling about the horse's uneven gait and how he longed to be on his feet. "We have feet for walking you know!" He muttered to no one in particular. "We were not made to ride on beasts such as this one!"
Legolas laughed. "If you really want to walk, Master Dwarf, by all means do so. But I doubt you will reach the Shire in three months time if you do!" His comment was met by laughs from the hobbits and a grunt from the dwarf.
"Just like an elf to enjoy the company of a horse. For someone who walks with such ease, you sure don't do a lot of it. If I remember correctly, elves do not even leave footprints; you were made for walking!" Gimli was happy with this retort.
But Legolas was undeterred. "We leave impressions, just not large holes in the dirt like dwarfs who may be short but weigh a lot. True, we may have been made for walking, but we are smart and know we cover greater distances on a horse."
Gimli groaned. "Smart. Yes, I am not saying riding a horse isn't smart. Just somewhat annoying, as well as being a literal pain in the backside." He shifted now, showing Legolas the real reason for his complaints.
"Oh, I see." The elf said, chuckling. "You have what I like to call, 'rider's rear', which is something that affects inexperienced riders. Funny, it doesn't seem to bother me at all."
The hobbits were laughing so hard now that it seemed like they would fall off the horses. Gimli turned a brilliant shade of red at the term "rider's rear" and huffed. "Rider's rear, my foot. This is the only horse in this whole group with such an uneven gait! It is his fault, not my inexperience, which gives me this pain."
Arod suddenly reared, throwing Gimli right off his back. Legolas tightened his legs around the horse, wincing at the pain it caused, but keeping his perch on the animal's back. Gimli, now sitting on the ground, looked at the horse with loathing. "Why you!"
Legolas glared at him with a look of warning, stopping the dwarf's impending tirade. "I would not insult him again, Gimli. He may not let you ride him and you'd have to ride with one of the soldiers." Legolas now turned his attention to the stamping horse and spoke to him in Elvish. Soon he looked up smiling. "Arod will once again carry you, if you apologize."
Gimli grunted. "Apologize to a horse!? I don't speak your tongue, Legolas, he wouldn't understand me anyway."
The elf shook his head. "He will understand your tone, so make it sound like you mean it."
Gimli stood at the horse's side now, sighing. "All right, Arod, I am sorry for insulting you. I am unable to admit that my own pain is my own fault. Please forgive me." The dwarf's tone was sincere and the horse nickered, tossing his head back a little.
Legolas offered Gimli a hand up. "That was good, mellon nin. I did not think a dwarf would be able to do such a thing as apologize to a horse."
Gimli glared at the elf. "We are not so stubborn that we can not adjust to the situation, Master elf. I knew if I did not apologize I would be walking to the Shire and as you so elegantly pointed out earlier, it would take me over three months to get there. We dwarves do know how to adapt."
Legolas couldn't help one more jest. "Well, if you are so good at adapting, adapt to Arod's gait." He tensed, waiting for the smack he thought he would get from Gimli. Instead, he heard a low mutter.
"Elves..." The prince smiled; satisfied that he had won this round.
Aragorn slowed the column to a stop, wearily setting up a watch rotation for the night and instructing some of the men to water and feed the horses. He turned his attention to Frodo and Arwen, helping the hobbit off the horse's back.
"How are you faring, Frodo?" He asked as he set the hobbit down next to the horse. "Do you feel pain? Are you lightheaded?" Concern was evident in his voice.
Frodo slowly spoke. "Your herbs have helped mask the pain. I feel as well as I can expect to in this situation. I would not venture to walk about yet; I feel I would topple over. The riding has not done me a lot of good!"
The king of Gondor nodded gravely. "Yes, I thought as much. Such hard riding has no doubt affected all our men with wounds." Speaking of wounds, Aragorn turned around to locate Legolas. Word of the mishap with Arod and Gimli had reached the man and he wanted to be certain Legolas had not injured his leg further by gripping the horse.
Seeing the Elf off to the right side of the camp, he looked to Frodo and said, "Would you like to camp out near Merry, Pippin and Sam? They are with Legolas."
The hobbit managed a slight nod and Aragorn lifted him easily and bore him to where their companions were making a small fire. Legolas had laid out a blanket and was seated on it, humming a tune to himself.
Aragorn sat beside him after setting Frodo down beside Sam who quickly began tending to his Master. "Legolas? How is that leg? It is not bleeding?"
The Elf looked at his friend and smiled. "No, it is all right. Now that there is no poison to hinder my healing, I am left with minimal pain only when jostled. Do not worry about it. By the time we reach the Shire it will be but a memory."
Aragorn nodded again, watching Merry and Pippin prepare dinner. "When will you heal Frodo? I know that you already are planning to."
Legolas smiled again. "I was hoping to do that now. Frodo looks to be fidgety. But he can not move as he is now and I have no need to heal myself. I thought I would lend him a little hand. We want him to be well when we arrive."
The hobbits had heard the Elf and they were delighted with the idea. Sam looked a little wary, but he trusted the Elf with his life so he nodded that he too wanted to see Frodo better. All eyes turned on Frodo. "Please, I would greatly appreciate it," the hobbit mumbled, his wound was paining him.
Nodding, Legolas hauled himself to his feet, careful to avoid any signs of the pain it caused him to feel. He was pretty certain he had convinced even Aragorn, who was normally so perceptive. He made it a point to discuss the man's lack of attention later.
Sitting himself in front of Frodo, Legolas spoke quietly. "I won't hurt you, but I do need to touch it. Without contact, I can not do anything." When Frodo nodded in understanding, Legolas reached forward tentatively, lightly resting his hand on the now uncovered head wound.
The hobbit cringed a little, but was surprised by how light the touch was. He looked into the Elf's eyes, momentarily mesmerized at the deep pools of wisdom that were buried there. Frodo felt his eyes locked on Legolas', he couldn't have torn them away if he wanted to. For a wild moment, he thought that someone much older and wiser than Legolas claimed to be was staring at him out of the prince's eyes.
Then Legolas blinked and the odd sensation Frodo had felt was gone, but the deep blue pools that were Legolas' eyes remained, and Frodo found he still couldn't break his gaze. He had never noticed how much expression they held. Then, Legolas began to speak, and his eyes closed as he concentrated.
Elvish was an elegant language, not gruff like the language of the dwarves, more musical then the Common Tongue. To those who didn't understand it, Elvish sounded like a song. Though Legolas wasn't singing, his words lulled the hobbits and Aragorn into a peaceful stupor.
They watched in fascination as his hand began to glow light green. Legolas seemed to take no notice of this change, his eyes were closed and he continued to speak almost as if the words were coming straight from his mind, not his mouth.
Frodo was still staring at the Elf, not sure if moving would hurt him. Just as suddenly as the light had appeared, and as easily as the Elvish words had lulled them, everything returned to normal. Legolas opened his eyes and looked into Frodo's before moving his hand.
Even Aragorn gasped. The gash in the hobbit's head was completely gone.
"Legolas? Did you mean to completely heal it?" Aragorn asked, resting a hand on the Elf's shoulder. "That would have taken a lot out of you."
To his surprise, Legolas looked just as confused as he was. "I didn't mean to heal it completely." Looking at the hobbit's head, his eyes widened. "Hmm... that is rather interesting! But as I've said before, the magic seems to work of its own accord." He moved to stand, but suddenly found he couldn't.
Realizing that the healing must have greatly affected him, he decided to stay where he was for the moment, discreetly glancing at himself to see if anything was bleeding. Seeing a bright red spot on his legging, he frowned. You overdid it again, Legolas. You have a tendency to do that; perhaps you should have healed yourself first instead of trying to seem all mighty!
His gaze was quickly followed by Frodo who was about to speak when Legolas put a hand to the hobbit's lips. "Say nothing, please." He whispered, barely loud enough for Frodo to hear. The hobbit hated to do it, but after what Legolas had just done for him, how could he argue with the Elf? Surely he knows what he is doing.
Legolas looked weak, but no one spoke on it. Even Aragorn was giving the Elf the benefit of the doubt, only insisting that he eat. He offered Legolas a bowl of stew filled with vegetables and meat they had brought from Eomer's feast.
"I know you are weak from healing Frodo," the man said. "Something tells me you are going to need to eat to regain your strength."
The Elf took the proffered bowl and slowly ate it. It was warm and tasted good. He was happy they traveled with hobbits that had an appreciation for food. He could always count on something good to eat when he was with them.
Suddenly, Frodo put a hand on his shoulder. "You should heal yourself next," the hobbit whispered, knowing that no one but the Elf heard him. "You have been hiding your pains; you have been pretending you are fine when you are not. I can see it in your eyes; I saw it when you were starting to heal me. Please, my friend, heal your self next."
Legolas saw the guilt in the hobbit's eyes. He sighed and smiled. "You are right, mellon nin. Do not feel guilty about this. I chose to help you. I will do as you ask and heal myself next. Thank you for your concern."
Frodo nodded and smiled now. "Good. But I do not believe you; therefore I wish to witness you heal yourself."
To his surprise, Legolas laughed and nodded. "Frodo, you are the first person to so boldly say you do not believe me! Because of your boldness, I have no choice but to acquiesce to your wishes. I will allow you to watch."
Aragorn had heard the interplay between Elf and hobbit and it pleased him that Legolas was going to allow someone to watch him heal himself. At least this way they would know that he actually did.
"All right, let me know when you will do it." Frodo turned away now and joined Merry, Pippin and Sam around the fire.
Legolas beckoned for Aragorn to join him. "You seem worried, Estel. And to see you so off guard worries me in turn. Is there something wrong?"
Elves are too perceptive, Aragorn thought to himself before answering. "A great many things have been bothering me. Arwen seems to not be herself lately; she is quiet and elusive, especially in the mornings. I fear that Graelath will attack Gondor and Rohan while we have a good number of the two kingdoms' forces with us in the Shire. I fear you are not well and we can ill afford you passing out on us during a battle." He sighed. "There is much troubling me, mellon nin."
Legolas took a deep breath. "I see that. Well, I do not know what ails Arwen, but I can speak on the other things. I too feel that Graelath will use the attack on the Shire as a diversion. But both Rohan and Gondor are not easily defeated. Graelath will be fighting on three fronts. Plus, we do not yet know what has befallen Lord Elrond, Lady Galadriel or Gandalf."
Aragorn's eyes widened. "Yes, why did I not think of them? So long I have been preoccupied with the quick turning of events. They are powerful, perhaps they know where Graelath is, and perhaps they are on their way to stop him."
The elf frowned. "No, I do not think so. They would have destroyed him long ago if they knew where he dwelt. But something tells me we are soon to find out. We are only two days off from the Shire; I feel they draw near each day, for the earth is speaking to me, telling me that it is so."
Aragorn paused before answering, watching Frodo and the other hobbits laughing at something Gimli had said. "We were right to go to the Shire. Of the three realms Graelath will attack, they have the least defenses. Rohan has the fortress and some horsemen. Minas Tirith is a gated city, well equipped to defend itself, and Osgiliath has the river as a defense, which should buy the people time to get to Minas Tirith if it is attacked. The Shire is little more then farms."
Sighing with fatigue, Legolas nodded in agreement. "You are right. The Shire is where we belong now. But, to speak on your last matter, I am quite weak and need to rest now. I hope I will be able to heal myself in the morning, before we ride on to the Shire. I do not wish to arrive there in this condition."
The king nodded and moved to stand. Legolas stopped him. you rebind this wound? I did not wish to worry the others, but I have not the strength to do it now." He gestured to his thigh, where the blood was already ruining another pair of leggings.
Aragorn nodded. "Of course." He had expected something like this had happened when Legolas had overdone the healing on Frodo. But he was surprised that he had not noticed it earlier. He would have to be careful to pay more attention to his surroundings, not worry so much. It was dangerous to be unaware.
Once he finished bandaging the wound again, Aragorn sought out Arwen and the company fell into fitful sleep.
Sometime during the night...
"Awake! We are under attack!"
The cry startled Aragorn from his slumber. He surged into a standing position, grabbing hold of his sword as he did so. Arwen was standing beside him, shaking sleep from her eyes, also holding her sword. He could see Legolas and Gimli, equally as confused as he was.
"Where, who called the warning!?" The king shouted, looking around to find the threat. Suddenly, orcs poured over a nearby hill. There was no need to shout another warning; everyone had seen the threat.
Legolas' arrows soared past the king and queen, sailing into the unprotected areas of the orcs. Aragorn, with a cry of "Elendil" clashed weapons with the nearest orc, spinning quickly and slicing the creatures' head off.
He worried for Arwen, but the queen seemed to be holding her own for now. He felt Legolas and Gimli join him, the elf being a little unsteady, but not unable to fight. He frowned, knowing this was not what Legolas needed right now.
Stabbing forward with his sword, Aragorn impaled an Uruk through the chest with the blade, then pulled it out and lobbed off a limb. These Uruk's seemed to be swarming around himself and his closest companions. They seemed to have a purpose.
But what IS it? What could they possibly be after? He swung another blow at the nearest orc, crying out in fury as he did so. How did they sneak up on us? Why didn't we have more warning? Who was on watch? Grimacing, he pushed all thoughts from his mind, worrying only about surviving this battle.
Spinning on his heel, avoiding the blade of an orc, Aragorn searched for his friends, finding them in the heat of battle with Uruks. All of them seemed to be holding their own for the moment. A ring of guards had fallen alongside the hobbits, helping them and keeping them from becoming overwhelmed.
Legolas and Gimli were fighting close beside Aragorn, and they were wrecking havoc among the lines, with Legolas' lightning-swift arrows taking out orcs before they could reach the encampment or the other soldiers, and Gimli guarding his friend's back and giving him time to employ his deadly bow.
It wasn't long before the orcs were all either dead or fleeing. The soldiers began moving among the fallen, finding the wounded and marking the dead. The Fellowship grouped over by Aragorn, and all of them were present and uninjured, but there was one face that Aragorn immediately noticed missing. "Where is Arwen?"
Legolas turned and gazed across the encampment-turned-battleground. His keen gaze pierced the darkness of the night, seeking the Queen, looking to see if she was tending to the wounded. "I do not see her, Estel."
Aragorn didn't like the sound of that. He called to a group of guards standing nearby. "Spread out and find the Queen, immediately!" The soldiers responded instantly, fanning out and checking every fallen body, looking for any sign that the Queen was nearby.
The Fellowship spread out as well, looking around in the vicinity where Arwen had last been seen, when the fight began. Merry and Pippin went off in one direction, and Sam and Frodo split up, taking the other two directions not being covered by Aragorn, Legolas, and Gimli.
Sam was concentrating on the faces of the fallen orcs and humans in the area, so when he tripped over a wadded up blanket that had been thrown aside in the chaos, he grumbled to himself, then froze as he saw something gleaming in the weak light cast by the many torches that had been lit, and he grew curious. I wonder what that could be, the Hobbit thought to himself as he quickened the pace a bit to reach the object. A sword! I wonder whose it is? Glancing around, Sam saw no one around and stooped to pick up the long blade.
Turning it over in his hands, he saw it was beautifully decorated and incredibly light. He didn't know much of anything about swords, but something told him this weapon was made by the Elves. With this in mind, he turned toward the camp again and sought out Legolas.
Spotting the elf slowly moving in his direction, Sam hurried over, calling out to the fair-haired prince. "Excuse me, Mr. Legolas? Could I talk to you for a minute?"
Turning, the Elf was about to ask Sam to speak to him later, after they'd found Arwen, when he saw the Hobbit carried a long sword. A flicker of recognition passed through him. Where have I seen that before? Surely that isn't the weapon of a Hobbit. "Yes, Sam?" He walked slowly back to the Hobbit.
"I...well...here...I found this in the grass over there," Sam said, offering the sword to Legolas. "It looked like something the Elves would have made. I figured you would know what to do with it."
He hurried away now, feeling rather stupid. Legolas stood still, turning the sword over and over in his hands, momentarily forgetting Aragorn. Where in the world do I know this from? It is so familiar to me for some reason.
He studied the blade. It was definitely of Elven-make, with a long recurved blade that was sharpened along the lower edge and tapered to a sharp point. In the flowing Tengwar letters, an inscription had been engraved along the length of the blade.
Aen estar Hadhafang i chatholhen, thand around dan i thang an i arwen. {This blade is called Hadhafang, a noble defense against the enemy throng for a noble lady.} Then he had it. Arwen! This is her sword!
Turning around he gazed at Aragorn's back. This would only sadden the man further, but it was Aragorn's right to have the sword, not his own, and he needed to know. He carefully continued on and covered the remaining distance between himself and his friend.
"Estel. Come here a moment." He waited until they were out of earshot of the rest of the group. "I believe the orc attack was for a purpose. They came to kidnap Arwen. Graelath undoubtedly knows about you, you are the heir of Isildur. He knew he could control you through her. Why we didn't think of the threat earlier, I can not say. It is a horrible turn of events."
Aragorn paled. "What do you mean, Legolas?" Then his gaze fell on the sword that the elf carried, and he gasped, half in denial.
Legolas swallowed the lump in his throat. He held the blade of the sword, careful not to cut himself, offering the hilt to Aragorn.
Taking the weapon, Aragorn studied it and his eyes betrayed his emotions. "Arwen," the man whispered, grief overcoming him again as he held his wife's sword tightly. He looked around frantically, intent on finding the trail of the orc or Uruk who had taken his wife.
A hand on his shoulder brought him to a grinding halt. "You can not go after her."
The man looked at Legolas as if the Elf was out of his mind. "What do you mean I can't go after her!? She is my wife; she has been kidnapped by our enemies! I must seek her, I will not lose her." He was both angered and upset, but Legolas held firm.
"Estel, I know the turmoil in your heart. I love Arwen like a sister. But we can not go. We leave the hobbits to die if we do. You would be doing exactly what Graelath wants you to do. The orcs will not kill her; they will bring her to him. He will use her to control you, he will need her alive."
Aragorn took no comfort. "He will torture her to control me. I can not allow it. You take the men on, lead them to the Shire, you don't need me."
Legolas shook his head. "The men will not follow me, Aragorn. Their hope wears thin; they need you now more then ever. I can not do this and you know it. I need to conjure the shroud; I can not command your army." His eyes lowered and his voice wavered. "We must leave Arwen's fate alone for the moment."
He could see the rage rising in Aragorn and feared his words would not stop the man from pursuing Arwen. But he knew in his heart that the king had to go on to the Shire. Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, with the eyes of all present on the two of them, Aragorn spoke. "You are right. I hate the choice, but we must go to the Shire."
His voice was hard and stern. He walked away from Legolas now. The elf felt a sting at his friend's harshness, but knew that Aragorn needed to be alone, needed to come to grips with what had happened. The Elf sought out Frodo. "Bear your witness now, mellon nin. I will need all my strength sooner then I thought."
That said Legolas began to heal himself in preparation of the coming events.
Well, I hope to post the next chapter on Thursday. My beta is away on vacation and we crammed to get a few posts ready for you! Sorry for the delays! We'll be back to more frequent posts soon! Please r/r!!! Reviews are GREATLY appreciated.
Thanks to all my repeat reviewers and welcome to those who just found this story!
-Gwenneth
