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.
Rebekah: Nadina's personal maid.
Dorjan: Nadina and Danielli's son.
Lilian: Legolas' murdered betrothed. An elf from Lothlorien.
Mikael: Legolas' personal guard.
Adriano: a young Easterling aide and valet.
Jonah: an old Easterling warrior.
Tadeo: an old Gondorian warrior
Morgetti: Nathaniel's ward turned rebel leader who wants to take the kingdom of the Sang-age from Nathaniel.
Danesh: a Doloresi captain
Hector: a Sang-age captain
PART FOUR: Endings
Chapter Twenty: Learn to Love
Dolores,
The Northeast
The Rivendell elf was on his feet, making the lady who attended him frown in irritation. Yes, she heard that race was made strong. But risking one's health for one's impatience and pride, this ability of some men to set aside their health in favor of their vanity, was annoying her to the very pits of her stomach. Having grown up amongst warriors, and having married one of the greatest and most stubborn of them, Nadina was not unused to the quality. But it was no less of a nuisance.
Elrohir was standing before the window of his room, looking out over the dessert. Danielli's Doloresi citadel shared the architecture of Nathaniel's: a domed palace standing mightily over an incline, surrounded by the domed homes of his people. He heard Nadina's distinct footsteps, and tightened his borrowed sleeping robes over his bandaged chest before turning around to face her.
Her lips quirked, as if she was wrestling with teasing him about the misplaced modesty. He caught her look, and lifted an eyebrow at her, wordlessly acknowledging the barb that had never been, daring her to try his cleverness.
"You shouldn't be on your feet," she told him instead.
"There are things that need doing," Elrohir said.
"There always is," she commented mildly, "You must simply put recuperation as an item on your list, my lord. Make time for it."
"I need not," Elrohir said, "We heal much quicker than men do."
She stared at him for a long moment, before accepting his answer with a shrug. She walked to stand beside him, looking out over the dessert as well. "I wonder how my son is faring in Eryn Lasgalen."
"A tricky question," murmured Elrohir, "He must be encountering his step-grandfather by now. The King Thranduil, you must have heard of him. Even I am afraid of him."
"He is unkind?" she asked, brows raised, almost accusingly, asking him with a look if he just got her to throw her young son out to the wolves.
"Oh no," replied Elrohir quickly, "He's just… well, stern, you know. But he was never lacking in caring. I've seen Legolas court a smile from him with ease. Then again, no one else has that effect on Thranduil but his beloved son."
"It is strange," Nadina murmured, "So strange to think on old enemies in terms of their fathers, their smiles…" she shook her head in dismay, "After all the blood, only to find there are more things we share than there are things that separate us."
"As long as we've finally realized this," he said wistfully, "It is never too late for me."
Nadina smiled at him thoughtfully, before staring out at her dessert once more. He watched her intriguing face, where so many emotions were lodged. They colored her stunning blue eyes.
"Legolas will send his army, you told me," Nadina said.
"Yes," he replied, "I am quite certain."
"Why?" she asked.
"I've known him a long time," Elrohir assured her, "He's known his share of pains, he wishes to impart none of it to the innocent. You will not find a better elf to be with. He will suit you better than anyone else."
She stared at him for a long moment. "Will he?"
He met her turbulent, questioning gaze. It was easy enough to deduce what it was she meant. He decided to soften the topic by smirking out what had actually been an honest answer.
"Well there is still me, of course," he said with a deceptive chuckle, "But some would beg to disagree."
Her eyes clouded, but she smiled back at him. It was as if she was in approval of both his honest answer and the clever diversion that made the circumstances more bearable.
"Ahh," the Rivendell elf breathed, his finer senses sighting the approach of the Eryn Lasgalen colors. "Here comes the cavalry."
Her hands shot up to her hair, matting it down carefully, self-consciously. She was expecting to meet her husband-to-be for the first time after all.
"Relax," he told her wryly, "I've seen you look like the beauty of the world even in dust and grime, Nadina."
It was with some relief and some disappointment that they discovered Legolas was not with the elven army that crossed into the lands of the Doloresi.
Nevertheless, they brought the promised relief. Fifty elven soldiers on horseback with their impassive faces and gleaming armor, was dispelling all the fears of the small dessert country. Aside from the considerable elven force, they brought with them all the Doloresi prisoners of war they captured and cared for during the war, setting them free to their homes and families and to help in the defense of their own kingdom.
"My lord," one of the royal guards bowed to Elrohir. The Rivendell elf recognized the soldier as one of Mirkwood's highest ranking ones.
"General," Elrohir answered, bowing as well.
"Princess Nadina," the Mirkwood elf bowed even lower before his Prince's future wife. She returned the formality gracefully.
"We are very grateful that you've come to us in this our trying hour," she told him sincerely.
"I regret that the Prince Legolas is not with us," said the elven General, "But he bid me bring to you all the assistance you could possibly need."
"I was told he would," Nadina said softly, glancing at Elrohir.
"The Prince is leading the campaign for the Sang-age," said the soldier, "Two regiments left Eryn Lasgalen some days ago. We rode with all speed toward here, and the other rode toward the more pressing situation in Nathaniel's land. Though the Prince would have been honored to meet you at last, he felt his expertise would be more of use there, where the enemy is likely to strike."
"Typical," muttered Elrohir.
The General glanced at the younger elf with a measure of disapproval, but also with some amusement. Having known Legolas since he was a princeling, it was not a sentiment he didn't share.
"With your permission," said the soldier to Nadina, "I want to survey your defenses to lend my aid, and find positions for our own soldiers in case of an attack."
"Of course," she told him with a smile, "You have my leave to do whatever you feel is necessary. I am hoping all our precautions will not be needed in that Morgetti wouldn't attack, but it always pays to be careful."
With a bow, the elf left them to do his work. Nadina looked after him as he walked away with his wide, domineering strides.
"Prince Legolas sent us the very best," she said softly, surprised by the generosity of her future husband. She wondered if she could ever learn to love him.
The Land of the Sang-age
The Doloresi soldiers were told to expect the arrival of the elves, but thundering horse hooves from impeccable-looking, heavily armed soldiers always stirred the blood and gave rise to considerable fear. Especially since many of the older soldiers recognized the Prince of Eryn Lasgalen leading the charge, he whom they've long known only as a dreaded foe.
Legolas halted his horse before the limits of the Sang-agen city, and raised his hand to order his soldiers to do the same. His battle-ready horse was stomping excitedly, having ridden for days without rest and sensing the urgency of his master. Legolas soothed the beast by patting his flank, as he surveyed the city.
It was unfortunately not walled, and there were only humble, domed homes situated at its periphery marking where the city started. Soldiers stood every few paces along these homes, and Legolas noted with some dismay that they looked quite scant and certainly less than enough to defend the kingdom.
The elven prince stopped before the city's main entrance, a paved road that led deeper into the capital. There, a Doloresi captain and a seasoned, old Sang-agen one were standing side by side to meet him.
Legolas dismounted his horse and stood before them. The two soldiers bowed at the Prince, and he returned it quickly. There was more important business to attend to.
"My lord," the Sang-agen Captain greeted him, "My name is Hector, and this is Danesh of Dolores. We are in charge of the defense of the city. I'm sure you've noted that we are not in a very good situation."
"I agree," Legolas said, "I'm surprised to find your city is not walled. It's defense poses a greater problem than I thought it might."
"Walls are inconvenient to our lifestyle," Danesh explained, "A risk that needed to be made, I'm afraid."
Legolas looked about him, noted the homes and all of its inhabitants peering at him from their doors and windows. Straight ahead was a mighty dome he deduced must be Nathaniel's palace, bordered by low walls and situated at the top of an incline. His eyes narrowed in thought. Now that is much easier to defend.
"I will speak plainly," said the elven prince.
"We were advised to trust your judgment," said Hector, "And know quite well from our experiences of battle against you that such advice is not without merit."
"Tell the people to leave their homes," said Legolas, "And move to the palace. We will concentrate our defenses there. In that palace, we will have walls and just as importantly, the high ground. Not to mention a smaller, more manageable area to protect."
Hector hesitated. "It's never been done before, my lord. But I see your wisdom. We will do as you order."
"I suggest you act on this right away," said Legolas, "We were lucky to beat Morgetti here, but my scouts told me they are not far behind. Go."
Hector nodded, and busied himself with his subordinates. The elven prince called upon his next-in-command to walk with him and Captain Danesh.
"The palace, being on top of the hill will give us the view," said Legolas, "We can have archers there at the walls, and though Morgetti could get into the city, I guarantee he cannot get up into the palace, since we can rain arrows down on them as they climb. But to inconvenience them further, around the incline I want ditches to be dug. Fill these with thorns and spikes, perhaps even bits of glass. Anything sharp that you can find. Hide them with a thin layer of sand."
Danesh's eyes lit with appreciation. The soldier in him was relishing the thought of sitting up at the high ground, seeing Morgetti's forces breaking into the city and heading straight for the palace. The palace, where archers will welcome them with bows and arrows, shooting down on them. Where any attempt they make to climb the hill could be derailed either by the hale of arrow-fire, or slipping and falling into the spiked ditches.
"We will leave the rest of the city unoccupied?" Danesh inquired.
"Archers up on the palace," said Legolas, "And some footsoldiers as well, in case by some miracle Morgetti manages to break through. But the best of the soldiers with close-contact combat must hide amid the houses around the city. When Morgetti's forces go straight for the palace and meet with the archers, the combatants in the houses can then close in from behind them in surprise, cut off their retreat. But ensure these soldiers know the risks of this particular job. Urban warfare gives our foes many places to hide, and many weapons to improvise with."
"Of course, my lord," said Danesh gravely.
"Make haste," Legolas ordered. Danesh nodded and scurried away to make the proper arrangements, as Legolas turned to his own people.
Morgetti's Camp
The Outskirts of the Sang-age Capital
They won't kill him, they won't kill him, was the mantra running inside the dwarf's tortured mind, as he watched the Easterling mercenaries drag the blonde elf away from them.
"These men are deserters and bandits," Adriano said to Gimli softly as he watched as well, "But they are not without kin or loved ones in the Eastern kingdoms. Legolas is well-known to them, and much disliked."
The Easterlings threw Haldir to the ground, spat near his head, to show their profound disgust with him. A band of the rebels formed a circle around him, but left some view for Gimli, Adriano, Jonah and Tadeo, as well as for their leader Morgetti, who was watching the proceedings with a warm, hungry eye and a bit of a smile.
Haldir's hands were tied behind his back, but he pushed himself up to his knees and glared at his tormentors defiantly. One of the bandits uttered something at him, just before backhanding him across the face, sending him to the ground once more. The bandit turned to Adriano, screamed at him and pointed to Haldir.
"What does he want?" Tadeo asked.
"He wants 'Legolas' to understand what he is saying," Adriano translated, shaking his head in amazement, "I understand the frustration of wanting vengeance, and feeling insignificant when all that has consumed you for years is not at all remembered by your foe. All of this man's brothers were killed in the war, and witnesses told him it was by the elf prince's hands."
"Of course they'd say that," growled Gimli, "they can't name and blame anyone else! He is the only recognizeable face of their nightmares." He wasn't sure whether or not to be insulted that he did not count as a nightmarish foe. He had, after all, been on practically all the battles the elf had ever faced!
Tha bandit barked at Adriano again, pointing at Haldir insistently. Adriano did as he was told, telling 'Legolas' that he killed all of the man's brothers.
"I'm going to kill you," Haldir said to Adriano under his breath, blood trailing down the corner of his mouth, "You told me Legolas' name will save my life, you forgot to tell me they will kill me first before they ransomed me off."
Adriano's lips quirked, appreciating the dry humor. There were, after all, a precious few things one could appreciate while watching a newfound friend in suffering.
Another Eastern rebel came forward and struck Haldir as well, with his own set of accusations. The Lothlorien elf bore all of these quite calmly, except that one instance when a bandit's spit managed to reach his face and the insult reflexively grated at his pride. His eyes narrowed in irritation, and his gaze was cold and clear despite the fact that his face was by now swelling and coloring with all the hits he had taken. Almost casually, he swung his legs at the spitting bandit and sent him stunned and sprawling to the ground.
The Easterling sputtered curses at him, and then the game got more heated and more violent. The ease by which the elf brought down one of them was ruffling the feathers of the others. Someone brought out more rope, and bound the elf's feet. And then someone brought out a spiked whip, making even Morgetti worried enough to order them specifically, to have their fun with the elven prince but to stop short of killing him.
Growling, the dwarf pushed forward when the first lash began to descend on Haldir. With his hands tied behind his back, and the injuries already acquired from the earlier battle, it was not long before he was subdued and held still, a blow to his head blurring his vision and giving the brutality before him a surrealistic look.
Adriano watched with his young, scarred eyes. He liked Haldir, enough that every strike to the elf's body made him wince in shared pain. He wondered how it would feel, if he was watching Legolas of Mirkwood instead. Would he feel some vindication? He was an Easterling too and had, after all, also once tried to kill the elven prince in all of his anger. Legolas had been cold, callous and insulting to him. The elf was an unapologetic murderer. It was the only Legolas Adriano knew. But then Adriano saw too, that the elf's friends adored him. Thus, he realized there always were two sides to a story, as the old adage goes. That in the elf prince's eyes, they were the villain. Knowing all of this now, he guessed that maybe if he was watching the torture of Legolas instead of the torture of Haldir, he'd share in the prince's pain as well.
Adriano apprehended that somehow, along the length of this journey, he's learned that whoever was on the hurting side of a vengeful whip, he'd feel sorry for them- foe or friend. He was sick and tired of war, sick and tired of being angry.
What did my old master say, he thought back to Nicolo, that night his life was ended by the elven prince's angry blade, 'Let me teach you one final thing, dear prince. All that is truly grave and tragic begins not with death and killing, which is a given as long as there is life, especially in times of war. All that is truly grave and truly tragic begins with vengeance…'
Vengeance… It made everything seem unending. It made Legolas of Mirkwood kill. It made all those who loved his victims want to kill him back. It made Morgetti want to kill Nathaniel and reclaim the Sang-age. Where vengeance began no one could know. But everyone had to know that this ridiculous ride could end with them.
We are almost at peace, he thought achingly, I wish it for myself, just as I find I wish it for those I once knew only to be foes.
The Land of the Sang-age
Legolas stood beside Danesh and Hector at the palace walls. The three of them represented the ranking heads of three kingdoms- the Doloresi, the Sang-agen and the elves. They stared out over the distance at the dessert.
"They are coming," Legolas said softly, his elven eyes the first to see. But such an observation was not left solely to the eyes; the two men beside him were folk of the dessert, and they knew full well too that Morgetti was coming, because the air tasted different, the winds whipped at the sands in agitation.
"If Morgetti is smart," said Danesh, "he will know to withdraw and even to surrender. We may not match his numbers, but we do have the best position. He doesn't stand a chance."
"Have you prepared your terms, my lord?" asked Hector of Legolas, "As a starting point for negotiations. There will be talks of course, the very breath he sees that he'd have to deal with the lot of us."
"I want nothing short of them laying down their arms and rejoining the rest of the Kingdom," replied the elf, "the men can go free as they will, back to their homes, back to whatever it was they were doing before they were pressed into service in this rebellion. But Morgetti must stand trial for his crimes- desertion from the army, treason… it is up to Nathaniel, ultimately. In the short-run, I just want their arms laid down, and their cooperation until Nathaniel comes here. It is his kingdom, it is his business."
"That's more than fair," commented Hector, "Considering we can easily slay all of them from where we stand, strategically speaking."
The air was wavy with the heat, making everything from the near distance ironically seem as if one was looking at them from underwater. The horizon's dessert lines was suddenly broken by one shadow, and then another, and another, and the shadows and forms thickened into a column of riders and soldiers, and more columns behind them. The man at the head of the pack was riding a black horse, holding up a banner of faded colors, the colors of Morgetti's fallen royal House.
"I thought all those flags had been burnt," said Hector softly, "The child must have long thought of this moment, that he could raise it up again and claim his lands. But he is dreaming."
Legolas' eyes narrowed as he watched the approach of Morgetti and his army. He was confident of their ultimate victory, of course, he just didn't know how much it would cost. Coming from the desperate desires of his vengeance not too long ago, he knew full-well that there was very little logical arguing with one's broken heart. When one could finally answer, What would it be like, to wake from sleeping and dreaming and instead live out all these desires? To live a dream? His heart once longed to kill those who wronged him, just as much as Morgetti desired to reclaim his lost kingdom.
We are alike, he thought toward the rebel leader bearing his House's colors proudly, You and I, and all of us surrounding. We all pray for a better world, except we cannot seem to get around it. I let my anger consume me for too long. I wonder how far will yours take you…?
Morgetti's army stopped some paces from the borders of the city.
"Ready my horse," Legolas murmured to his elven aide, "We will try and talk them out of this madness."
To be continued…
hey guys!
faster updates now, since i'm essentially done with the fic and i'm excited to get it all out and concentrate on my new project. i might even post a chapter a day, haha, depending on if i find the time and my mood. this was chapter twenty, and the fic is a very round-sounding 25 chapters long :)
keep the c&c's coming if you can, i don't always have the time to reply but i swear they're really, really helpful. thanks for taking the time to read and 'TIL THE NEXT POST!