Author: Mirrordance
Title: Love, War
Summary: The War brought them together, but the peace will tear them apart. How much is a man willing to pay to keep a friendship, and how much is a friend willing to lose for revenge? Slash.
TIMELINE: the story happens about a year or two after Return of the King— the exact year is immaterial really, just as long as certain future events operate as a given: one, peace is yet to be attained with the Eastern tribes of Middle-Earth. Two, Ithilien is already restored and Legolas lords over the elven colony there, just as Gimli is lord of the Glittering Caves. Three, Eomer is already engaged, as is Eowyn and Faramir. Four, that Elrond and Galadriel have already sailed away to Valinor. The fic is generally faithful to the book and the movie with respect to the major events, although some factors about it may be considered as an AU; the irrepressible Haldir, for instance, is very much alive in this piece.
ORIGINAL CHARACTER GUIDE:
The Sang-age Tribe: a tribe name created from Latin roots which means 'belong to blood.' They are a creation of the author and is supposed to be one of the multitude of Easterling tribes, not particularly powerful but also influential. Their land is situated east of Rohan.
The Doloresi: another tribe of author-imagined Easterlings, whose land is situated east of Eryn Lasgalen.
King Nathaniel: the King of the Sang-age tribe.
Prince Nicolo: Heir of Nathaniel, and a renown and vicious warrior.
King Danielli: the king of the Doloresi, and a dear friend and ally to Nicolo.
Princess Nadina: Nathaniel's daughter, Nicolo's sister, and Danielli's wife.
Dorjan: Nadina and Danielli's son.
Lilian: Legolas' murdered betrothed. An elf from Lothlorien.
Mikael: Legolas' personal guard.
PART FOUR: Endings
Chapter Nineteen: Positioning
Eryn Lasgalen
I believe I've erred against you hideously, my love.
The Prince of Eryn Lasgalen was once again on his knees before the grave of the elf Lilian, the woman he once loved, she who once owned the promises of his heart. The last time he knelt here, he vowed to avenge her, and that had been some years ago.
"I've spoken with my father," he told her softly, laughing at himself a little in nervousness and discomfort. "I am… I am to marry another, you see."
He fell silent, as if expecting a response from her, as he remembered his beloved father's wise words.
You came home to us after the war and you were much changed. And then I told you Lilian was dead, and you tore across these lands in anger- far more anger than there was grief, far more hatred than there was loss. You were different, and your love was different. And you hated yourself because she was dead. Because you hadn't been here to save her or be with her. But more because you didn't want to be. You were elsewhere, and you did not regret being there. A father knows. You were different, and your love was different, and you wanted little to do with any of us who knew you for what you once were. You fought, you toured, you left, you built a kingdom elsewhere. A father knows…
"He made me see some things," Legolas continued, "Some things I may have blinded myself to."
It was silly, he kept thinking, to speak to the dead, for one. To expect them to answer, secondly. And silliest of all that he was shy, wary of his words, weighing them carefully, as if those who were dead could listen and care about… about something as trivial as appropriate phrasing.
"I've been bearing your name in vengeance all these years," he said to Lilian, "When in truth I was bearing my own. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry, for misusing your name, tainting it by the disgrace of my actions. I was doing it all for myself, after all. I was angry for all that I lost, rather than grieving for the losses themselves. I had no right to use your name. Remember…" he chuckled at himself sadly, "Remember the last time I was here? I was so steeped in myself that I did not even speak to you. I was speaking only to myself. How could you have loved one like me, hm…?
"I cannot imagine it," he murmured, raising his hand to- for the very first time, he realized- touch the stone that marked where she was laid to rest. His digits shook, but they found their way to trace the marks of her name.
"I am to marry at last," he told her softly, closing his eyes, imagining her face was the surface that graced his fingers, rather than cold, still stone.
"Not to Aragorn, of course," he continued, "You know him. You must have read my mind. And I know now that you must have loved me enough to want me to be happy. But no, not to him. I get to wed an Easterling."
He sighed. "I know. They killed you. But war is war. I've killed many of them too. I've killed their fathers, sons, brothers. Lovers, even. War is war. There is no greater foe than war itself, I suppose. And I find, suddenly, that I'm in an honored position to end it.
"I know you won't mind," he said softly, "I know you won't mind."
He opened his eyes, and for a breathless moment he saw her eyes and her smile linger, as if she really was sitting before him. He smiled too.
"I find suddenly," he went on, "That I am in a position to save this land. And… and to make up for my errs. I believe I have a chance to save my soul, too."
He let his hand fall to his sides, and looked up to nearing footsteps. Lilian's grave was at the royal site, not far from the palace he called his home, not far from where his mother rested. It was secluded, and quiet, especially in the heart of the night. The only ones who were ever here was himself or his father, and the footsteps he heard most certainly did not belong to the King. His senses did not betray him, of course, and indeed he looked up to find, not Thranduil, but the faithful Mikael.
"My lord," said the old soldier, handing Legolas a parchment of paper, "An Eastern party bid me give you this. They are in the hall, in an audience with your father."
Mellon-nin,
Estel sent me on a mission to the East, to retrieve your bride Nadina and bring her to Gondor for your nuptials. But alas, I should have predicted this outcome, for I cannot remember the last uneventful trip I've taken under Estel's bidding.
Not all is well in the East; the West is not its only foe, there is also dirty politics from within. A decade or so ago, a Sang-age captain and his regiment went missing. This captain's name is Morgetti. Now, Morgetti and his men, fortified by bandits and mercenaries he gathered, seeks to attack the Sang-age and other defenseless Eastern lands and claim these lands as his own. The lands are populated by women and children and a few aging soldiers; they've dispatched their best warriors against the West after all. They are defenseless. Morgetti is ruthless. We are expecting a massacre.
I am at Dolores- Danielli's land- with your wife-to-be. She refuses to leave her people behind. She also sent many of Dolores's soldiers to the Sang-agen, where she expects Morgetti to strike first. She, however, sent her son to you. His name is Dorjan. He is intelligent and inquisitive… a lot like Estel when he was younger and posed less of a problem, heh.
So what do I ask of thee? Well, to look after the boy, of course. To apprise Aragorn and our other allies of the Eastern situation as well- we could not afford to loose any more soldiers as a multitude of messengers. I know you can spare some of yours.
Also. Hm. How do I go about this. We found out about Morgetti when we stumbled upon his camp. Enclosed is a map and some directions, but well, any of the Easterlings I've sent you with this letter can guide you there. There was a fight. Nadina and I escaped, but they have Gimli and Haldir and a few others. They said they wanted ransom, but we're unsure. It could've been a ruse, to have us lay down our arms, make more cooperative victims when they decided to kill us because we found out where they were. Or perhaps… perhaps they really did want ransom, to fund their campaign. There were, after all, many mercenaries and bandits in their fold. Either way, I have great hope that our friends remain alive and relatively well.
In short, dear Prince, I need soldiers, if you can spare them. Your Easterling prisoners of war at the very least, to return here and help defend their homes. Or perhaps even, if you can find it in yourself, some of your own men. As for our hostage-friends… I have less of an idea what to do for them, but I'm sure if you spoke with Aragorn-madman over there, he'll come up with something.
Hannon-le. And the gods bless your path, my friend.
- Elrohir
The child was understandably nervous.
Dorjan of Dolores had never stood in a room of full of elves, and some of the highest born ones too. The King and the Prince - Father and son- looked a lot alike, the boy thought. They were even glancing at him in the same careful way.
Prince Legolas, who was introduced to him moments ago, gave him a low, formal bow. The Eastern prince gulped and did the same. He stared at Legolas unabashedly, such that the elf quirked an inquiring eyebrow at him.
"You killed my father," Dorjan said carefully, "I heard about you, my lord. My mother, she does not say so expressly. But I have ears, and hers is not the only voice, where I come from."
Legolas held Dorjan's bold, accusing gaze for a long moment, before he glanced at his father the King. The Prince discreetly nodded at Thranduil, as if to motion him away. The King coolly exited the hall, bringing his entourage with him. The Easterling escorts of Dorjan held their ground, however, until their young prince bid them do the same.
Legolas thus mused that in the East, as in many warrior tribes the world over, boys grew up only too quickly. Their eyes were aged and wiser. These eyes in particular, may have seen too much.
The elf fell to a knee before the child, so that their gazes met squarely. "So I have," he said with narrowed, thoughtful eyes, "What do you want from me?"
Dorjan seemed caught off-guard by the question. But he was still of the Royal House, and he was every bit Danielli's son. There was quite a bit of spirit and nobility to him yet, enough to stand the ages-old elvish gaze.
"An apology?" asked Legolas, "Revenge?"
"I want nothing," Dorjan answered warily, after a long pause, "But it needed saying, my lord. You must know that I know, and yet I am here. My mother, she trusts you. She said Lord Elrohir said it's all right."
"Oh did he say so?" murmured Legolas.
"Was he wrong?" Dorjan asked boldly.
"Not most of the time," Legolas said, wistfully. He rose to his feet. Danielli's son was indeed as intelligent and inquisitive as claimed by Elrohir. But he had spirit too, and honor. Interesting indeed. He wondered how a marauding beast like Danielli could have fathered someone like this. Then again, from the perspective of the Easterlings, he was sure to be regarded as a murderous animal himself.
"Are you sorry?" Dorjan asked him, suddenly. They both knew he was referring to the death of the boy's father.
Legolas was the one caught defenseless now. He gave the question an honest moment of thought. "Not at the time," he answered, wincing, "But yes. Ultimately."
The boy bit at his lips, and his brows furrowed. But he nodded, accepting the answer as fair and honest. "All right." He took a deep breath, as if to brace himself for another question.
"Anything else?" Legolas asked him, encouraging.
"My mother…" hesitated Dorjan, "She did not take the journey with me, and everyone is nervous."
"Your lands are very dangerous at the moment," the elf explained, "You are safe here."
"Will she die too?" Dorjan asked.
"Not if I can help it," Legolas answered quickly, as if it was so easy. He seemed to have surprised the both of them.
I find suddenly, that I am in a position to save this land. And… and to make up for my errs. I believe I have a chance to save my soul, too…
The Gondor Front
A white flag, a tent, and the rulers of a long-contested land.
The table was low, such that all the kings present sat on the silk and carpet-laden floors of the Gondorian tent. The table was round, a specification of the Reunited Kingdoms of Gondor and Arnor, a subtle but effective hint of the promises of an equal voice.
The Southeastern tribal kings looked resplendent in their best formal court silks mixed in with their gleaming warrior's effects. Their sun-weathered, exotically handsome features were unmasked, freed of their cloaks here in the shade.
Nathaniel was the oldest of them; many of these Eastern kings after all, were married to one of his multitude of daughters. Nathaniel served as the interpreter of the negotiations- it was only he, in the length of his long, warring life, who may have seen this moment. His grasp of both languages was astute.
The eleven tribe leaders read through the treaty and its conditions, periodically asked questions. It seemed to Aragorn that they kept glancing at the Sang-age king, observing him for signs of distress and mistreatment, perhaps. Nathaniel was looking extremely well, proud of his actions and also hopeful of peace. He seemed a fantastic example of the best face of the treaty.
Aragorn let them take their time- this was serious business that must not be hurried. Every word counted, when the effect had a bearing on a land's history, the lives of its people. Eomer beside him was watching the Eastern kings with less calm, but just as much silence. Elladan was with them as well, having come from Imladris to take part in the historic talks, as well as to represent his considerable kin.
It was at a distinct moment of thoughtful silence that one of the royal guards manning the tent- ordered not to disturb upon pain of significant punishment- burst into the room, seeking the eyes of his slightly irate King.
The soldier knelt beside Elessar and whispered hastily in his ear. The quiet of the tent was so great that his urgent murmurs seemed to engulf them all.
Elessar's eyes narrowed in thought, upon hearing the news. He dismissed the soldier with a wave of his hand, before turning to Nathaniel. "My lord. We must postpone these negotiations. We have a situation that demands immediate attention."
Nathaniel was not at all pleased about that, and not at all shy to speak his mind, especially when their Eastern would-be allies could not understand a word of his Westron. "Do you value my counsel, Elessar?" he asked Aragorn sternly.
"You know so," the man replied.
"Our Eastern allies have been looking at me, wanting to find something wrong, seeking a reason to distrust you," said Nathaniel plainly, "Think on this urgent matter quickly, and weigh it with caution. They look to us now, wondering what it is we are speaking of, why your soldier disturbed us. Why, why? Does it have anything to do with them? Is it a trap, is it a trick…? Think on this carefully. Is this nothing you cannot speak of in front them?"
Aragorn chewed at the inside of his mouth. "It concerns the Sang-age more than it concerns me," he said at last, "It might be more your decision to make."
"If this treaty is to be built up on trust," said Nathaniel, "Then I give leave for our allies to hear about it."
Sure enough, some kings had already turned to Nathaniel, asking in their own tongue what it was the commotion was all about. Nathaniel replied to them, and then everyone in the room turned to Aragorn expectantly.
"The wedding party," said Aragorn carefully, "The group that escorted Princess Nadina from the Sang-agen, they ran into a group of rebels, one known as the Lost Army of Morgetti."
Nathaniel missed a beat, hearing the name of his wayward adopted son. Apparently, the legend was known to the other Easterlings, such that they looked alarmed upon the saying of Morgetti's name, even before Nathaniel found it in himself to translate at last.
"The Princess Nadina escaped," continued Aragorn, and at this most important piece of news, Nathaniel was quicker to relay the message to his Eastern kinsmen, "along with one of the members of the envoy." This time, he looked at Elladan reassuringly. The Rivendell elf nodded, understanding that Aragorn was referring to the safety of Aragorn.
"They've taken refuge in Dolores," said Aragorn, "And made arrangements as to the protection of the Sang-age from the rebel army by sending some of the Doloresi soldiers there. As you well know, many Eastern soldiers are out fighting the west, away from their homes, out in the battle fields instead. Many of your lands are practically defenseless against any aggression from within."
The Easterlings murmured worriedly amongst themselves. Nathaniel told Aragorn that the others felt the danger the Sang-age was facing could be a danger to their kingdoms as well, since their palaces and main cities were indeed as defenseless as was logically claimed by Aragorn, given the situation of war.
"Nadina's son," said Aragorn, "Is safe in Eryn Lasgalen where his mother sent him to be with her future husband, Prince Legolas. Prince Legolas was also the one who sent his messengers here, that we may be apprised of the situation. He, along with his army, have also crossed to the East to lend their arms against Morgetti."
Nathaniel was once again stunned to hear this piece of news. He neglected his translation in favor of his urgent questions. "She sent my grandson to that murderer?"
Aragorn tossed him a warning glance. "Be wary of thy words, my lord. And your kinsmen await your rendition."
Gritting his teeth in irritation, Nathaniel nevertheless did as he was told, before turning to Aragorn once again. "I cannot believe he'd send his soldiers, much less go himself, to aid us."
"When he agreed to marry your daughter," Aragorn told him edgily, "He took with it all its responsibilities- the defense of her life, the defense of the land given him, the defense of those who are now- though he may or may not wish it – his people. He will look after her, and Dolores. Just as he will look after the land and people of his wife's father's home. Because he's always kept his word. And also because these people are defenseless women and children he can aid. You've known him more for his anger, my lord, but I suggest you know him best for the rest of him. He is much loved for a reason."
Nathaniel stared at him for a long time, measuring the truth of his words. With set jaws, he turned to his Eastern allies emphatically.
"What of Masters Gimli and Haldir?" Eomer inquired of two of the partymembers who was best known to him, so often were they to be found about Rohan.
"The belief is that they've been captured and are held for ransom," replied Aragorn with a wince, "Perhaps even killed. But I prefer to hold onto the hopes of the former."
"What is your choice of action?" Elladan asked.
"I need to know more of precisely what Legolas is doing there," said Aragorn, "so I can see where we can apply our own forces--" his voice drifted, when he noticed that the Eastern Kings were one by one, hurriedly preparing their seals and signatures to sign the treaty. With wide eyes, he turned to Nathaniel questioningly.
"What you say of your friend had better be true, Elessar," the Sang-age King said to him, "I just told them that the bind of marriage had not even been sealed yet, and your elven Prince is already running to the East in defense of my lands, risking his own life. As I said. This is about trust, Elessar. If Legolas can find it in himself to bleed for us, and you fervently promise the same… perhaps we've been brothers all this while after all."
Just like that, though Aragorn, still quite shocked over what had just transpired. Peace.
Almost, he corrected himself. Morgetti was still unfortunately making a rather expensive nuisance of himself. From what Nathaniel told him, the man had a fifty-soldier army at the very least, and suspected networks in bandits that could number in the hundreds, if he got all the Eastern brigands together. All in all, no greater than several hundred rebels, and most of them mercenaries who did not believe in Morgetti's cause, just eagerly awaiting a pay-off.
This meant that Morgetti's defeat in terms of military terms was a certainty. On a battlefield, he and his forces will be slaughtered. But if he laid claim to the towns, the palaces, and all of its people… a massacre could be at hand too. Everything now was no longer a question of strength, but of positioning, and timing.
Now that Morgetti knows he's been discovered, he'd have to lay siege to the towns quickly, because they were his sole ace in the deck. Without them, he had no hope of success, no ransom, no high ground to bargain from. He must know he can never win a straight-out war. But if Legolas beat Morgetti to the land of the Sang-age and fortified the kingdom, therefore keeping the rebel army out in the desserts, the battle could be simple and quick in favor of the West and its newfound allies.
The peace talks gave way ironically to more talk of war, except this time, the East and the West were allies toward staving the rebel threat. Legolas' chief envoy was ushered into the tent, and unsurprisingly it was Mikael. He laid out a map of Arda before the room of rulers.
In a red marking, the elf drew a straight line that began from the Sang-age capital and ran west toward Rohan. "This," said Mikael, "Was the road home of the traveling party after fetching Princess Nadina."
In a quiet murmur, Nathaniel translated to their new allies, as Mikael continued, "But at a watering stop here," he placed a black dot somewhere along the red line, at the outskirts of the Sang-age dessert, nearer to the West than to the Eastern kingdom's capital, "the party was attacked."
He changed his ink to blue, and began with the black dot and drew a straight line north to Dolores, where he placed another dot. "Princess Nadina and Lord Elrohir escaped, and traveled north to the land of the late King Danielli, where Nadina was his queen. She dispatched some Doloresi soldiers to the defense of the Sang-age, where she suspected Morgetti was going to attack. They also dispatched messengers to Eryn Lasgalen, to apprise Prince Legolas of the situation."
Shifting to a very appropriate, light green ink, he drew a straight line from Thranduil's court in Eryn Lasgalen east to Dolores. "My prince sent his soldiers to Danielli's land to ensure that it can withstand any potential attacks from Morgetti. Though the most danger is to the Sang-age, the protection of this land is just as vital to him."
And then in a more royal olive green, he drew a straight line from Thranduil's court in Eryn Lasgalen southeast to the Sang-age, traveling right over the dot that marked the sandstone mountains where the first encounter with Morgetti was made.
"The prince and a larger contingent," continued Mikael, "Rode to the Sang-age capital for its defense with the country's best riders. They were hoping to beat Morgetti's forces to the capital with elf-raised horses, and a ceaseless ride pressed on by elvish stamina. We surmised that some of Morgetti's band may not have horses, may travel with camels instead, perhaps even mumakils. They will have considerable might, but not as much speed.
"The Prince bid me tell you," said Mikael, "that he will send word should he change his strategy after a better look at what he has to work with. He said he is also amenable to any changes you may wish to make. He also said that the hostage situation is more of a mystery to him. They've not even heard of any demands yet."
Aragorn stared at the map. Legolas left him little to do really, except deal with the rescue of Gimli and the others.
"My lord," said Aragorn to Nathaniel, "What are the odds that Morgetti will keep our friends here," he pointed to the black dot marking the sandstone mountains, "where they were captured?"
"Slim to none," replied Nathaniel with certainty, "they are lacking in men, Elessar. I'm sure they could not have spared the manpower to attack my lands and maintain a prison. Either they've already been killed, or they were brought along for the assault, kept in the traveling camp."
One of the Eastern Kings beside Nathaniel murmured something to him, and Nathaniel shook his hand gratefully, before turning to Aragorn.
"Our allies have offered to retreat their forces immediately," said Nathaniel, "that they may look to the protection of their own territories in case of attack, and that they may send some of their men to my people as well."
"Tell them to leave their wounded and save time," Aragorn said, "They will be cared for, as our own soldiers are cared for. I will send some of my army as well. We can all ride together."
Just keep our foes in line, Legolas, he thought fervently, We have our peace now. We have our peace at last. All we've bled for, all we've given up for. It is so near. We just have to take care of this one last thing, and then we, and all this world, should have the rest of our lives to look forward to.
To be continued…
HEY GUYS!
guess what? as of yesterday, this fic has actually already been completed, haha. i'm still tentative though about the ending. we'll see... i usually have a basic piece of work, and then i look to reviews to get a feel of what might be missing, what i could add. for those who've read my stories from long before, my style was to post, post, post. i couldn't wait to post, if it was finished already, the whole thing goes up. but formy later works, i was advised to pace my posts, because not onloy do i get more reviews and more people get to read if it is kept updated, it actually makes the story better because i get to improve on the latter parts as i hear feedback. so, point being, haha, review if you can guys, c&c's are always welcome, and already i'm very very very THANKFUL for all your support. i'm in a bit of a rush right now, but that's your update, and i'll definitely be addressing your concerns and questions soon. THANKS SO MUCH AGAIN and 'til the next post:)