Chapter Three

"Hang on, mellon nin," Legolas whispered to Merry. He was doing his best to keep the Hobbit conscious, but Minas Tirith seemed so distant and Merry's strength was fading. Every now and again, the Hobbit would mumble something indecipherable and then dose back off to sleep. These occasions, however were few and far between, but it comforted Legolas to know that his companion was not lost.

The road to Minas Tirith was eerily silent. Even Legolas' sharp ears could hear nothing but the breath of the wind and a few breathing creatures that were nearby. No birds sang, nor could he hear the battle cries of the army he had left behind. The elf had rarely known such a silence. In the midst of it, Merry sat straight up, startling the elf. His brown eyes could not have opened any wider and were bloodshot as red as the morning sun.

"Theoden!" he hollered, causing the frightened horse to rear up, pawing the air in terror. Legolas clutched it's mane tightly to prevent the two passengers from falling to the ground below. Then the horse jolted to the ground, nearly throwing the elf and the Hobbit into the air. After regaining his balance, Legolas whispered to the frightened mare.

"Stille nu faeste. Norolim. Steady now, ride fast" The horse regained her composure and returned to her course, bolting even more rapidly toward Minas Tirith.

"Legolas?" Merry questioned. He sounded as if he had just awoken from the long sleep of night and was unsure if this was a dream or if he had indeed awoken. "Where are we?"

"We're returning to Minas Tirith, little one," the elf replied gently, grateful that the Hobbit was conscious enough to have recognized his voice. "You were injured at the battle. Do you remember it?"

"Yes," Merry whispered as if he were recalling an event that had happened a thousand years past. "When did you get here? We thought you, Aragorn, and Gimli were certainly dead. We saw the black ships of the enemy and feared the worst." The Hobbit groaned in pain. "Oh, where is Theoden? I'll give him a good piece of my mind. Imagine! He thought he could leave Meriadoc Brandybuck to whither away in Rohan while there was a war to be fought. This will show him." Legolas was certain he heard the Hobbit chuckle slightly.

"Yes, this will certainly show him something, my brave Hobbit," Legolas agreed. He knew that it was best not to tell Merry of Theoden's death, yet he did not speak in falsehood. Surely Theoden, wherever he was would be proud of his young esquire of Rohan.


"My lady, you should not have risen yet," Faramir's voice startled Eowyn. He was too obedient, she thought, mentally cursing the young steward for worrying about her so.

" I am fine, my lord. I was ready to fight when the soldiers set off for battle. I was not permitted to accompany them, so the least you can do is permit me to keep watch for their return," she challenged.

"I have no authority over you, milady, but lord Aragorn advised that you were to rest until his return," Faramir gently reminded her.

"Yet he allowed the Hobbit Merry, wounded as much as I, to set out with the soldiers. Why can he fight for his freedom while I must stay here to be a trifle for the men when they return?" Eowyn demanded furiously. Faramir stepped toward her.

"You are not a trifle, my lady, Eowyn,"he assured her. His voice was tender, for that Eowyn resented it. His interests were obvious to her. He did not value her as a soldier or a ruler any more than he did a speck of dust. She stepped away from him and turned to face the east again. Faramir sighed. He longed to stroke her hair, to reassure her that she was of great value to many, including him, but he could not. Her fury held him at bay. Not looking at her, he ventured a bit closer and gazed out to the east as well. At that instant, both spied a single horse quickly approaching the city. As the steed proceeded, Eowyn recognized the rider's long blonde hair blowing with the wind. It was Legolas, back from the battlefield.

"Open the gates!" she cried. The Gondorians obeyed her command and moments later, Legolas had entered the city of Minas Tirith.

"What news from the battle?" Eowyn inquired anxiously, not noticing Merry. Before replying, Legolas placed the Hobbit in Faramir's arms. The lady's expression turned from one of excitement to one of horror and she rushed to Faramir's side, gazing up at Legolas for an explanation.

"Take him to the houses of healing and find a nurse to care for him," Legolas instructed. As Faramir started off, Eowyn clasped Legolas' arm and followed the steward. The elf broke free of her grasp, but continued to accompany the group. Eowyn's attention was now focused on the Hobbit who rested in Faramir's arms.

"Merry," she called his name, pleadingly. "Merry!" At the sound of his name, the Hobbit's eyes slowly opened. For a moment, they looked expressionlessly at the sky. Then they gained focus and rested upon Eowyn. A smile passed the Hobbit's lips.

"Milady." Eowyn's eyes met his and a smile came to her face. Faramir was amazed how it affected her, for he had never seen the lady smile before. He contained his joy, however, for he knew this was not the time or place for his passion. "It's good to see you," the Hobbit commented. He was about to speak again, but the lady silenced him.

"Save your strength, Merry. You will need it later." By then they had reached the houses of healing. Faramir scurried off to find a nurse. Merry closed his eyes and slept on the soft pillow.

"Sleep, my friend," Eowyn whispered, kissing his forehead. She then walked out of the houses of healing with Legolas.

"What happened to him?" she asked Legolas once they were outside. She had to work hard to restrain her tears, but the elf could see them regardless. However, he did not speak of it.

"He was inured badly in the battle; I don't know exactly how. His previous wound must have worsened the situation. For that reason, it is good that you did not come with us," he replied, knowing Eowyn was still angry that she had not gone to fight. Eowyn sighed, acknowledging the possibility that Aragorn's decision had been a wise one.

"What of . . . the others?" she wanted to ask the elf plainly if Aragorn had survived, but knew that would be inappropriate by her standards.

"Most sustained minor wounds. Your brother is unscathed, as are Pippin, Gimli, and Aragorn." At this news, Eowyn breathed a sigh of relief and silently thanked the Valar. Legolas knew he could stop there, but there was one more essential contribution to the tale. "Sauron has been defeated." For a moment, Eowyn stared at the elf in disbelief, hardly daring to hope such a thing might be true. She searched his face for any sign that this was a cruel joke to be played on an inferior person who wouldn't know any better, but she saw none. She perceived only the sincerity of one speaking to an equal who had missed a grand event, but had contributed to it in her own way. After a moment, a smile grew on her face and Legolas saw sheer joy make it's way into her features. Faramir emerged from the houses of healing to the sight, and the lady no longer cared if he saw her joy. Because of this, the steward did not need to ask the result of the battle. He knew in his heart what had happened. Just as Faramir started toward them, the sky darkened.