Author's Note: (Sorry I didn't answer these last chap) Yes, I hope I finish the story as well. (I probably will). And yes, Freak and Proud, I suppose you could put it like that… More mushy-gushy romance stuff in this chapter kiddies. A little Berethor/Morwen never killed anyone.
CHEERS! I BEAT THE GAME! WOOT! (This is now very AU. I'm not following the game line. Completely, anyway.)
-------------------------------------------------
For the next few days or so, Berethor, his friends, and the four remaining members of the Fellowship waited anxiously for any word on what to do. Berethor waited in particular unease- he was worried about his home. If Denethor refused to light the beacons and call for aid (and Berethor had a nasty feeling that he would), it could be the end of Minas Tirith.
So he waited, staring at the mountains beyond Edoras in hopes he would see a lit beacon. Due to his worry, Berethor got very little sleep. On the third day of his watch, there were bags under his eyes. Morwen, who had watched her friend sit and stare at the mountains for three days, had finally had enough of it.
She stomped out towards Berethor, a scowl set on her pretty features. "Berethor!" She barked. The Gondorian grimaced and turned around.
"Yes, Morwen?" He asked coolly, already suspecting the reasons for her attitude towards him. Morwen walked around him, arms crossed, and stood directly in his line of sight.
"You have been sitting out here," She said crossly, "For THREE DAYS! You have hardly eaten, you have hardly slept, you've hardly blinked, for the love of Elbereth!" Berethor had to bite his lip to keep from snickering. Morwen, the woman with the strength and occasional attitude of a Cave Troll (Though certainly with more brains) was nagging him about keeping watch!
"I am looking for-" He began to explain.
"I KNOW WHAT YOU ARE LOOKING FOR!" She snarled, leaning forward and glaring dangerously at him. "But as I have just stated, it has been three days with no sign of Gondor calling for aid." Berethor's face fell. Another painful reminder that Denethor would be too stubborn to save his own people. Morwen saw the look on his face, and she softened a bit. Perhaps yelling wasn't the best route.
Sighing, the Axe-Maiden sat down next to Berethor. "I know how you feel, Berethor, for I feel it too." Berethor looked at her, a vague look of confusion on his face. "I was once a resident of Minas Tirith myself. My father was an advisor of Denethor."
Berethor's eyebrows shot up. "He was?" Morwen nodded. "Why didn't you tell me?"
"It never came up," She responded, shrugging. "My family was… banished from Minas Tirith when I refused to an arranged marriage." Berethor's eyebrows narrowed instantly.
"To whom, precisely?" He asked, a hint of resentment in his voice for the unknown man.
"I don't know. Which is exactly why I turned down the arrangement- when and if I marry, I'd prefer to be in love with the man first." She said smoothly. Berethor shifted his weight and sighed.
"Then you do know of my thoughts. I apologize for not thinking, Morwen." Morwen waved it off and looked away. There was a long, though not awkward pause.
"Will you get some rest then?" Morwen asked softly. "It's not like we're going to not tell you when the signal does come."
"All right," Berethor murmured. He took another look at Morwen, and it suddenly occurred to him exactly how close they were. A strange desire overtook him, his clear senses left him, and Berethor leaned forward and kissed Morwen. For one, stunned moment, the Axe-Maiden did not respond. She caught on quickly, though.
"Ahem." The two broke apart instantly, and whirled around to see Aragorn there. The Ranger was observing the couple with a high eyebrow. "Well, Morwen." Morwen blushed to the roots of her copper hair. "You told me you were going to convince Berethor to come in at all costs. Somehow it never occurred to me that you would try this method."
Morwen groaned and covered her increasingly red face with her hands. She muttered something along the lines of: "But he kissed me." Berethor carefully grabbed her arm and pulled the woman up, indicating he wanted her to come with him. Aragorn smiled knowingly.
"Ah well. I shall keep watch, Berethor, and report if anything happens." He said. Berethor mumbled his thanks and pulled Morwen, still hiding her face, back inside. When he was certain they were gone, Aragorn sat down, shook his head and snickered.
"Kids," he muttered.
-------------------------------------------------
In the armory, Idrial was coolly examining her sword, and occasionally wiping off any stains she caught with her super-sharp vision. She had been meaning to get around to cleaning her sword after Helms Deep, but everything had been in such tumult that she had forgotten. A very seldom occasion for the Elleth. She had been thinking about so much, like Lothlorien, her brother, the fate of Minas Tirith, and a certain Elven Prince…
Stop that! She hissed at herself. I can't think about him. I can't get interested in him. It'll just end like it did with Berethor- a pretty, charming young human will come along and he'll get completely enraptured with her, and I'll be left with a broken heart again. She determinedly scrubbed at another stain on the sword. Idrial was quite certain her heart couldn't take another beating like that. Not again.
Though Idrial was not willing to admit it, her coldness towards Berethor was beginning to ebb away. The sore spot of his falling in love with Morwen was beginning to heal. And it terrified Idrial that this may have been because her feelings were now being directed towards another. She groaned inwardly. Of all the times to get these feelings, it had to be during a war when anyone could be killed. Idrial didn't dare trust a hope that these feelings would bring joy instead of sorrow.
"Hello Idrial." If not for the two Millennia of learned patience and control, Idrial probably would have fallen out of her chair and impaled herself on her sword. It was Legolas. D-mn him, She thought bitterly, He's the only person in Middle Earth that's capable of doing that. She turned to the door. Legolas was there, sporting his usual brown and green clothing, though it did nothing to diminish the glow that being an elf granted him.
"Greetings, Legolas." She responded. "What brings you here?" Legolas hesitated before answering.
"I was simply walking around… and I wandered here." He said. The pause between his words told Idrial everything she needed to know. He had not simply been walking around aimlessly and happened upon her in the armory- he had been looking for her. A charge of excitement and happiness hit the Elleth just then, and she furiously scolded herself. She was not some elfling with a silly infatuation. Oh no.
She was a full-grown Elleth, and she was in love. Argh! Idrial shrieked in her head when that "L" word appeared in her head. Never think of that! She snapped to herself. On the inside, she was tearing herself to pieces, but on the outside, she was calm, cool and collected. She raised a delicate eyebrow at the Prince.
"Wandering aimlessly around?" She asked. Legolas' cool though friendly expression wavered a moment, seeing his credibility was being questioned, but decided to keep up the cover until he was certain Idrial knew.
"Yes," He said. "There is really nothing else to do today." He was unbearably tense for a moment, thinking that any moment Idrial would ask why he was lying. But the other elf simply gave a small shrug and went back to her sword. Legolas relaxed, greatly relieved that Idrial had not seen through him. Or so he thought. Idrial, as was mentioned earlier, was quite aware that Legolas was lying to her. But she didn't dare think that he might be interested in her.
There's more to love than having a heart-to-heart while everyone else was off getting drunk.
But Idrial was beginning to read signs she didn't want to see- like the fact that Legolas had tensed after she had asked about his "wandering". Like he had been afraid she might guess he was lying? Maybe. Maybe not. Perhaps Idrial was simply imagining it all, because her own emotions were making quick work of her mental health. Legolas glanced around, and gestured to a chair near Idrial's.
"May I?" He asked.
"Go ahead," Idrial said lightly. Out of the corner of her eye, she observed him carefully. He was still tense. Perhaps she could have a little fun with this. "It's strange," She said, after a moment's pause. There. He twitched slightly. Idrial knew that, if he thought she was looking (She was currently pretending to look at her sword), he could and would have easily concealed it. "I was just thinking about you." There. Another twitch.
Elbereth, Idrial thought. He's a wreck. Mind you, since they live so long, Elves are able to master some control over the urge to make involuntary movements- like twitching. They also taught themselves how not to tense up so an enemy would not sense they were worried or afraid. So when Idrial saw these slight movements, she knew that Legolas was probably very agitated about something. Most likely, her (Though she did not admit this to herself).
"Really?" Legolas said, his tone cool and calm as ever. Idrial looked up and smiled serenely at him.
"Yes, actually. I wanted to thank you for what you said the other night." She responded, setting her sword aside. "It has truly calmed my nerves."
"It was nothing," He said, bemused. "I merely spoke the truth. Lothlorien was one of the first Elven cities in Middle Earth- It has endured the Kin Slaying, the first War of the Ring, and it shall endure this one." Idrial looked at her hands, which were folded neatly on her lap. She enjoyed the sincerity in his words. Another attribute she appreciated about him. Rarely did any man, Elf or dwarf speak with such honesty and confidence in his words.
She opened her mouth to respond, when suddenly yells could be heard from the entrance hall. The two elves turned to the door, and suddenly Elegost rushed in, looking breathless and excited.
"The call has come- Gondor calls for aid." He said, Legolas jumped up, Idrial following quickly behind him. Together, they went to the entrance hall where Aragorn was speaking quickly with King Theodan.
"Gondor calls for aid!" He cried. All eyes were then switched to the King. There was a breathless pause.
"And Rohan will answer it." Theodan said, nodding his approval.
"Yes!" Berethor, on the opposite side of the hall with Morwen, hissed. Then he caught Idrial's eye and froze. There was a pause, and Idrial seemed to think for a moment. Then, slowly, she smiled at the Gondorian. Grateful that their friendship was renewed, Berethor returned the smile.
-------------------------------------------------
There was much to be done that night- weapons to be sharpened, shields to be examined, horses to be prepared. "'Twill be a sleepless night, you mark me Ranger." Hadhod muttered to Elegost grumpily.
"Now Hadhod," Elegost said in a mock scolding tone as he saddled his horse. "Is that any way to prepare for a battle that may very well take your life?" Hadhod glared at his old friend and gave a mocking laugh.
"Funny, Ranger. Positively comical." He remarked, sitting against the wall and lighting his pipe. Just then, Gimli trudged up to them looking troubled.
"What worries you, Master Gimli?" Elegost asked. Gimli grumbled to himself before revealing his news.
"Three-hundred there are here. Two hundred or so more joining us at the camp the night before battle. Merely five hundred soldiers, against some thousands of Orcs and Uruk-Hai! I really don't see what help we can be!" The dwarf commented, pulling out his pipe and joining Hadhod against the wall. Elegost looked at the pair.
"You really shouldn't talk that way. Remember Legolas' little speech before the battle of Helms Deep?" He asked coolly, crossing his arms. Hadhod shifted uncomfortably, a bit humbled, and Gimli grunted.
"Be d-mned if I don't. Ruddy Elf rose the fires of Udun itself that night." He remarked scathingly.
"Are you going to give us a repeat of his performance, Gimli?" Elegost asked sardonically. "Going to get Aragorn into a bad mood?" Gimli seemed to realize that Elegost was right. And the last thing the dwarf wanted to do was get the older Ranger angry again. Under this pressure, it was like jumping into a pit of Uruk-Hai unarmed.
"You know I wouldn't," The dwarf finally said. Elegost nodded.
"I didn't think so. If you want to brood about the likelihood of us winning the fight, then do it where no one will here you." He advised, going back to adjusting the saddle on his horse.
-------------------------------------------------
That's all I have for now. I know Aragorn would never say "Kids", but it was for ironic purposes. Expect another update soon.