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-One: The End of the Fire
Dolores,
The Northeast
"It was just as we thought," Nadina said to Elrohir with relief, "Morgetti's forces will not be striking here. Our scouts have observed their movements deeper east, to my father's lands."
The Rivendell elf nodded at her, grimly. "That means," he breathed, "That means I should be somewhere else."
She raised a brow at him. "You're being ridiculous. By the time you get there, the elves would have already fortified the city, would keep you from entering just as they would keep the rebels away. Your late presence there could press them to give you an opening into their fortress that the rebels can use to go in as well. No, no. You stay here. You heal. You wait."
He chewed at his lips, thoughtful. She was right, of course. But he hated, hated waiting. And besides, he knew for a certainty that upon getting word of these happenings in the East, Aragorn and surely, Elladan too, would be going to the Sang-agen from the South. Gimli and Haldir were already there, and so was Legolas.
In short, he berated himself wryly, You're feeling left out.
She watched his face, knowingly. He hated too, that she was quite clever and was unabashedly proud of it. He offered her a half-hearted scowl, which only made her eyes shine in good humor.
"That wasn't the desired effect," Elrohir told her wryly.
Morgetti's Camp,
Outside the City of the Sang-age
"Haha," exclaimed the dwarf excitedly, for the rebel army paused upon the scout's announcement and their collective realization that they've been beaten to the city by the elves.
The five hostages were traveling at the back of the pack, the weakened, hurting Haldir being carried between Jonah and Tadeo. Injured as he was, he of course couldn't readily share in Gimli's enthusiasm. Neither could young Adriano.
"You know what this means for the rest of us," said the Easterling wistfully, "The army protecting the land is predominantly made up of elves. Morgetti is thinking he can barter 'Legolas' for some concessions."
"And all he has is me," drawled Haldir, "Morgetti won't be very happy when he finds out. And he will find out, the very moment the elves refuse to buy me out."
"Why wouldn't they pay your ransom?" asked Tadeo.
"It's because he's irritating," growled Gimli, almost-cheerfully. His excitement apparently could not be dampened. "I see Mirkwood colors. Is Legolas there? He's one of the few elves who'd be willing to pay for you."
"And one of the few willing to pay for you," snapped Haldir.
"No one's going to pay for me," Jonah pointed out, sadly.
The group fell silent, when the rebels pressed them forward, pushing them toward the head of the column. Morgetti's army stood some dozen paces away from the edges of the city. From the front of the lines, they could see that the capital resembled a ghost town, emptied as the houses were. They could see that the raised palace was quite heavily defended, however, leading them to the logical conclusion that everyone must be there instead.
The five hostages were deposited before Morgetti, who grabbed Haldir by the collar and brought him to his knees, dragging him forward. At the top of his lungs, he screamed something in his native tongue, out toward the city. And then, he hastily motioned for Adriano to repeat what he said in Westron.
"To the elves," Adriano called out. The silence of the capital was unnerving, and the winds were carrying his voice out further than he ever thought it could go, "We have your prince!"
A long moment of silence followed the pronouncement, before it was broken by the muffled sounds of horse hooves hitting rock and sand, preceding the first sight of the real Legolas of Mirkwood riding toward them. The elven prince rode between two Easterlings, one bearing the colors of the Sang-age and the other bearing the standard of Dolores. Legolas himself carried no flag that showed the banner of his Royal House, but instead bore a white one in peace. The colors of Eryn Lasgalen were borne by some elven soldiers who were flanking the three head riders.
They stopped at the edge of the city and dismounted their glorious steeds. Legolas gave the reins of his horse to one of the flanking elven soldiers. He, Danesh and Hector took their time, looking at their enemies and walking forward, stopping at the halfway point of the distance between Morgetti's army and the borders of the city.
"We have terms," Legolas said, and Adriano translated it to Morgetti. "It may benefit you to come forward and hear them."
Morgetti stared at the elf, his eyes narrowing in thought, before he motioned for one of his soldiers to drag Haldir and Adriano forward as he walked to meet the negotiating party.
'Who am I speaking with?' Morgetti said to Adriano, 'Tell him to introduce himself to me. I am the lord of these lands upon which he trespasses, what right does he think he has to summon me?'
Adriano gulped, and licked his lips nervously. He had to think fast. "My lord," he said to Legolas, knowing Morgetti wouldn't be able to understand him, "When we were captured, we told the rebels that Haldir was you, that they may keep him alive to ransom. Morgetti thinks he has a valuable Prince in their clutches, and is asking me who you are."
Legolas glanced at the Lorien elf, injured and kneeling on the ground, the rebel holding him steady poising a knife threateningly at his tender neck. 'You're all right?' he asked his old friend in Elvish, 'I cannot believe you tore across these lands bearing my name with your antics.'
'On the contrary,' said Haldir wryly, 'It is carrying your name that's brought me unimaginable penalties, mellon-nin. I do not think my bearing it was detrimental at all.'
'What is he saying?' Morgetti growled at Adriano.
'He is merely greeting his prince, as is their custom, my lord,' Adriano lied quickly, before turning to Legolas, "Give Haldir a bow, quickly."
The Mirkwood elf's brow quirked, but he did as he was told, albeit a bit cavalierly. "Tell him… tell him I am Haldir, a Captain of the Royal Guard." To the smirking Haldir, he said in Elvish, 'Isn't that fitting? A swap.'
Adriano translated to Morgetti that Legolas was indeed Haldir, sent there to protect the land and to handle the ransom for the elven prince's life. Morgetti made his terms known at once, which Adriano offered up to Legolas with some dismay.
"He says the prince's life for your departure from the city," said Adriano, "he has no quarrel with you, he only wants what is rightfully his."
Legolas shook his head, "In the failure of him and his family to serve, he lost this land long ago. Its people do not want him to be their King. Tell him my terms are for him to surrender his arms, and in doing so come to no harm."
Legolas did not need to hear translations of course, to know that the answer was a mocking 'no.' Morgetti even laughed at the offer cruelly, and then spat on the ground in his disgust, scowling at Legolas as he spoke to Adriano in their native tongue.
"He says," relayed Adriano hurriedly, as if struggling to keep up to the fast, frustrated words of the former prince of the Sang-age, "He says your prince will die. He says your prince will die before your very eyes, and he will storm the city. It is his by birthright, it was stolen long ago. His father was killed, his mother was killed. It is his by right, and even more, it is his by what is just, by all that he's lost and paid for it. The land is his. You got here first, he says, but he is far hungrier. That means he will win."
Legolas looked at Morgetti. "I understand your anger," he told the rebel earnestly, "It is not unfamiliar to me. Your anger will kill your foes, but it will kill you too, in the end. Move toward the route of peace. You will live, and your men will live, and the people you wish to reclaim will live too. Is that not the best service?"
The rebel leader's face did not soften, nor did his tone lighten when he conveyed his reply to Adriano.
"He says," said Adriano, quietly, his young eyes boring into Legolas, "He says he is offended by your nerve. That you should have the stomach to say you can understand him. His ire is softened only by the possibility that you truly believe what you are saying. In that case you are not offensive, you are ridiculous. Silly to think that your words can stem this war he's waited so long to stage."
"You will die," Legolas implored Morgetti, "look to our posts, I find no joy or malice in this simple proclamation of fact. You do not stand a chance."
Morgetti narrowed his eyes in thought as Adriano told him what Legolas said. He chewed at the inside of his mouth, thinking, considering. He blinked, set his jaws as he looked toward the elusive Sang-age palace, as if asking himself, what are you worth? Can I let you go…? But the answer was one he's known for too long. The land is everything, and if he turned away, he might as well be dead.
Legolas let him have the time he needed to think. Vengeance was dangerously irrational. It was insistent, and it gave no room for the logical. But perhaps Morgetti… perhaps the rebel leader can make these realizations sooner than he did.
Morgetti made a casual sort of wave at someone from behind him, and his soldiers brought forward Gimli, Jonah and Tadeo. Like Haldir, they were pushed to their knees. They looked a bit the worse for wear, but their eyes were alight. Of the five, only the dwarf and Adriano had their hands tied in front of them, for the other two had helped Haldir walk.
'Begin with that one,' Morgetti told the soldier holding Tadeo softly, and coolly. Such calm was so brutally misplaced in the dessert…
"No!" Adriano exclaimed, shooting forward toward Tadeo. But the blade that dug itself into the old Gondorian soldier's neck was far quicker, and it slid with such ease… how easy it was to end a life. His blood hit the sand, a breath before his body did, as it was released and kicked forward.
The hand-bound Adriano lunged angrily at the soldier who had done the foul deed. Adriano took the rebel soldier to the ground with the strength of his fury. They rolled in the sand as they struggled.
Things began spiraling out of control. The scent of blood and the sight of fury was wont to do such things to people. Haldir, Gimli and Jonah struggled against their own captors in equal rage over the death of the old Gondorian. Legolas watched, aghast, as the enemy's archers began to aim at his friends.
Morgetti's mad eyes were flashing with glee, but he held his ground as everything around him moved. He laughed, and screamed at the air in his mysterious tongue, screamed at no one in particular.
The elven riders bore empty horses toward the negotiating area in a rush to reclaim their allies and bring them back to the safety of the city, seeing that the talks had fallen apart at the seams. Morgetti's army began to run forward as well.
Danesh and Hector moved to assist Haldir, Gimli and Jonah. Legolas ran toward Adriano, and pushed the young Easterling away just as the first of the arrow shafts were released toward them.
Legolas could not hold back a cry of pain, as he was brutally struck by two shafts. His body jerked back, and then fell forward. He rolled on the sand with the momentum of the strike he'd taken, and for a long while he lay there unmoving, blinded and stunned by his pain.
Adriano barely felt the elf pushing him away to save his life. The rebel he attacked was on the ground, struggling to get his bearings. Adriano sighted one of Legolas' white knives thrown to the ground. He picked it up and stalked toward the disoriented rebel.
Gasping and coughing, Legolas pushed himself to his hands and knees, facing down at the sand and dizzily watching blood from his wounds taint the ground. He felt nauseated at the sight of the shafts in his body, and his arms shook as he took to the ground once more. Groaning, he shook his head vigorously in an effort to regain alertness. He noticed then that Adriano had scurried away from the his grip and lunged himself against the Easterling murderer again, this time having stolen one of Legolas' knives. The young man screamed as he hacked, and the rebel did not stand a chance.
"No more!" Adriano yelled at the corpse, stabbing in his anger, so consumed was he that he was oblivious to the arrows that rained around them, "We were so near! I've had enough of this!"
Legolas watched him with haunted eyes. "Adriano," he called shakily, "Stop, now. Let it end…"
The young aide gasped as he caught his breath midway through another strike. The rebel beneath him was already a bloodied, faceless corpse. He stumbled away from the body, and turned toward the grievously injured prince lying on his side on the sand.
Let it end, the elf implored him.
What was I just thinking some days ago, he thought, Where vengeance began no one could know. But everyone has to know that this ridiculous ride could end with them.
It can end with me…
"I'm sorry," Adriano said, disoriented suddenly, looking at his bloodied knife and his bloodied hands and clothes. The elf coughed thickly, tearing him away from his realizations. The young Easterling noticed with some alarm that an arrow was embedded so deeply into the elf's stomach that he could only see the end of the shaft. Another pierced his chest at a downward angle.
Legolas' hands shook as he reached for one of the arrows, and Adriano waded the sand and ducked at the shots fired around them to fall to his knees next to the elven prince.
"My lord…" Adriano whispered, his eyes raking over the prince's pale, sweating face. Blood trickled down the side of the elf's chin. He grasped Legolas' hands to keep him from pulling the arrows out himself. "Leave it to the healers."
"We cannot travel thus," the elf argued, tearing off the feathered end of the shaft in his stomach. He gasped, for even the slightest movements were jarring the wound and sending raging fire across his senses. "I need you… to pull it out from behind me. It went straight through…"
Nervously, Adriano looked at Morgetti's army, running toward them. He's never pulled out arrows from bodies before, but they did not have much time. Closing his eyes tightly and muttering a prayer, he quickly pulled at the pointed end of the arrow that went into the elf's stomach and out his lower back. The elf beneath him cried out and curled up, hands flying to clutch at his stomach.
Legolas struggled with every breath as spots danced before his eyes. He gagged, and felt the warmth of his lifeblood come out of his mouth, threatening to choke him.
"We have to go, we have to go," Adriano said anxiously, hands flailing in panic, "My lord, what of the other one? Do I pull as well?"
Gods no, Legolas thought desperately, both for the pain that he'd taken from the first pull, and the knowledge that the arrow his chest had taken will be much trickier to remove. It did not go through him cleanly as the other did, and the pointed end of the arrow was probably piercing something important.
"My lord?" Adriano called to him, shaking his arm. The elf's eyes seemed vacant, staring up to the blue skies. He seemed lost to the world, his only ties to it was the burning pain in his body, and the screaming of an angry madman.
"What's he saying…?" Legolas asked Adriano suddenly, distractedly. His eyes leveled at the young Easterling aide's confused and worried face.
"Who?" Adriano asked, as he waved urgently for a horse-borne elven soldier to fetch them.
Legolas tiredly pointed toward Morgetti, who was still gleeful amidst the chaos that surrounded him. The rebel leader by now had also taken toward shredding the white flag Legolas had brought earlier into shreds and tossing them about with spite.
"He says our conventions do not bind him," Adriano said hastily, motioning anxiously for one of the elven riders to come quicker. Morgetti's army was closing in; the rebel archers ceased from shooting because many of their allies were charging and coming into the line of fire.
"Conventions…?" Legolas asked, confused.
"White flags and negotiations and talks of peace," Adriano said quickly, "He says we are trespassers in his land. We can offer him nothing, not life and not peace, because there is no peace, even at the end of the fire, for one whose life and loves was stolen, until he can get them all back."
The elven rider Adriano summoned forward was bearing a free horse. The soldier ceased beside them, and threw the reins of the free steed to Adriano. He glanced at his prince worriedly, before covering their retreat with arrow-fire.
The young Easterling struggled with collecting the elven Prince in his arms. Adriano embraced Legolas, wary of the prince's wounds, and rode the horse hard at once. The elf who had come to their rescue rode beside them, firing arrows as they raced toward the Sang-age palace.
Shaking in pain, Legolas nevertheless turned to look behind him, past the shoulder of Adriano, who was holding him tightly. They breezed past Tadeo's body, limp as a doll on the ground. It was a pitiful, regretful sight, but he knew it was necessary to leave the old soldier's corpse behind for now. He could only be relieved that none other of his friends and allies were left behind as well.
Morgetti was madly leading the charge toward the city. The horses the elves and their allies were much faster, and will get to the palace in good time, far earlier than any rebel could. In this way, Legolas did not at all fear for their safety. He found the rebel leader's madness was more terrifying. How close did he come to a rage such as that, he wondered.
I tried to save you, Legolas thought toward Morgetti, But you leave us with no choice.
Much blood will be spilled this day, he knew. It was strange now, that he'd remember what Prince Nicolo told him not so long ago.
"Adriano," he said to his fellow rider softly, blinking as his eyes blurred and threatened to shut forever, "Your master, he was right. 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," he coughed, and felt more of his blood streak down his chin. Irritated, he raised a quaking hand to swipe at it as he continued, "All that is truly grave and truly tragic begins with vengeance. Look at him. Did I look like that?"
"No my lord," Adriano said, clutching the fading elf more tightly in his arms, "I think we saved you in time."
How right you are, thought Legolas, as his body shook and he coughed all the more. He pressed a hand to his mouth, vaguely disturbed to find rich, bright red blood in his palms, before he was distracted by a completely different line of thought.
Some things we really do realize only near death, he mused as he closed his eyes, It's almost tragically useless.
To be continued…