Chapter 24

Ice white eyes met startling blue ones. She opened her mouth to speak, but found her throat scratchy and dry with dirt and soot, rendering her voiceless for the moment. Evelyn starred at Legolas, unable to look away, and hating herself for her weakness. The eyes stared back at her, cold, and not emotionless, but she could not explain what she saw in their depths.

"What, in the Valar, are you…"

"…Doing here?" Two angry voices shouted, finally able to break her gaze from Legolas, Evelyn's eyes darted to her brother's, she winced from the anger she saw there. Once again, she opened her mouth to retaliate, to explain herself, but her voice continued to betray her.

A voice spoke up from behind her coming to her aid, "I believe, my lords, she was coming to your aide," Lindir, spoke up, wiping the blood from his sheath, only raising his eyes to greet the twins when he was done. The groups, took their focus from the woman before them and looked out to the gathering elves behind Evelyn, eyes wide and mouths agape.

"But, how is this possible?" Aragorn spoke up.

"Word was sent to us from the Queen, requesting the aid of her kinsmen. We answered her call." He replied nonchalantly, moving to clean his dagger.

"That still does not explain…"

"…Why Evelyn is here." Elladan and Elrohir spoke together again. They dropped their angry gaze back to the woman.

"Of course it does! She chose Rivendell as her home, and therefore she too is coming to the aide of her people as requested. A good thing to, I would say, looking at how you faired against the fires."

For a moment, no one spoke. They had not the words. Finally, it was Elladan who broke the silence around them, "She should not be here…" Aragorn held up a hand, silencing his brother's protest.

Aragorn looked at the woman before him, sagging on her mount, exhaustion written all over her, though she attempted to hide it. She was covered in ash and blood, her pale face and neck blistered from burns from the fire. "I spoke true in Gondor, I did not want you in this fight." Evelyn felt her heart drop at his words. Would he send her back, could he send her back? "While that is still true," He paused, taking a deep breath, "I am gladdened for your aide, I was wrong when in declining your request. I ask your forgiveness."

"It is forgiven," Evelyn croaked out, voice barely audible. Lindir held back a chuckle at her voice, earning a glare from the woman.

"And Lindir, I thank you for your help and men as well. Your timing could not be more perfect." He gave his old friend a wistful smile.

Lindir inclined his head and smiled in response, acknowledging the king.

"Let us collect our wounded and give our resects to our fallen." Aragorn announced, turning to go back to the battlefield.

"Here, drink this." Lindir handed up a skin to Evelyn, "It will help."

"What is it?" She asked, eying the skin warily, still remembering this last drink her friend gave her.

"Miruvor."

Nodding her head in acceptance, she took the skin and took a long sip of the drink. Instantly she felt heat radiate through her body, expelling the cold and bone weary exhaustion that plagued her. "Thanks."

Lindir nodded and followed behind the others, Evelyn followed, Elladan and Elrohir on her tail.

…

After speaking with Aragorn, Evelyn set herself up in the tent for those with the most grievous of injuries. Though her brothers were still mad at her, and not speaking unless patient related, they worked well together, helping those who normally would not otherwise survive. The ice she created, easily and securely closed and cauterized severe injuries.

"Lord Beriadan!" She exclaimed, rushing over to the soldier's side.

The ellon looked at her weakly, a feeble smile on his face.

"My lady, it is a right pleasure to you see in such a time." Beriadan coughed, blood spurting from his lips, splattering on the floor and his already bloodied armor. Quickly she scanned his body for injury, removing his armor and tunic. His skin held a few second-degree burns, but she could see no open wounds. His torso, however, was mottled black and blue.

"What happened?" She questioned, already fearing the worst.

"Caught a bludgeon from one of the Uruks, hurts like no other I will tell you that." He tried to laugh, his face contorting in pain. Evelyn's fears were confirmed. He had internal damage and bleeding. She could not see where the damage lay, and she could not heal what she could not see. It had been a long time since she had felt so helpless. She choked back the tears, they would not help her or the Mirkwood guard.

"What can I do?"

"Sing me a song of your homeland." He smiled at the look that crossed her face, "And find Legolas."

She swallowed hard, "Aye, I can do that." Looking around she called over the first elf she saw, "Find the Lord Legolas, tell him his friend request him in the healing tent." She looked back to the elf before her, his face contorted in pain. She stroked his forehead and cheek gently, as she began to sing.

'Seal da rabhas I'm' mhaighdean shéimh,
's anois I'm' bhaintreach chaite thréith,
Mo chéile ag treabhadh na dtonn go tréan
De bharr na gcnoc is I n-imigcéin.

'sé mo laoch, mo ghile mear,
'sé mo chaesar, ghile mear,
Suan ná séan ní bhfuaireas féin
Ó chuaigh I gcéin mo ghile mear.

Bímse buan are buaidhirt gach ló,
Ag caoi go cruaidh 's ag tuar na ndeór
Mar scaoileadh uaim an buachaill beó
's ná ríomhtar tuairisc uaidh, mo bhrón.

Ní labhrann cuach go suairc are nóin
Is níl guth gadhair I gcoillte cnó,
Ná maidin shamhraidh I gcleanntaibh ceoigh
Ó d'imthigh uaim an buachaill beó.

meaning

byheatheromeara

Marcach uasal uaibhreach óg,
Gas gan gruaim is suairce snódh,
Glac is luaimneach, luath I ngleo
Ag teascadh an tslua 's ag tuargain treon.

Seinntear stair are chlairsigh cheoil
's líontair táinte cárt are bord
Le hinntinn ard gan chaim, gan cheó
Chun saoghal is sláinte d' fhagháil dom leómhan.

Ghile mear 'sa seal faoi chumha,
's eire go léir faoi chlócaibh dubha;
Suan ná séan ní bhfuaireas féin
Ó luaidh I gcéin mo ghile mear.'

She felt as Legolas approached his friend, though she could not bring her eyes to look at him. As Evelyn saw him bend down to take his friends hand, she turned and fled as her song ended, Beriadan, passing from the world, a small smile on his face.

She walked briskly through the cool night air, the desert landscape quickly losing the heat of the day. Pulling he hood of the cloak up, she quickly passed through the milling soldiers to the edge of the camp. Away from the voices and the cries in the tent, Evelyn let the silent tears fall.

Her heart clenched. She had seen death, more often than she would like since coming to Middle Earth. What she had not seen was the death of a friend, not since Boromir, and then, she had been so preoccupied with her grief and fears to focus on his passing. Now there was nothing to numb the death of Beriadan. Evelyn had only known the elf a short time, but she had come to have a fondness for the troublesome ellon. The image of him lying there, with her helpless to stop the bleeding, would not leave her mind. So, she did what she did best and fled. In hindsight, Evelyn knew it was wrong. Legolas had just lost a friend and companion of more years than she could fathom, and she left. It was selfish of her, but she was not sure she could safely stay around the elf in her current state, she needed to keep her wits about her.

"Evelyn," Elladan spoke from behind. She did not turn to acknowledge his presence. "I came to see how you fared."

He was trying to apologize for his earlier behavior she knew, but she was in no mood for small talk or attempted apologies. "I'm fine." She replied shortly.

"Ah, well, if you need, ah, anything, I shall be at my tent." He stated, shuffling his feet on the ground. Elladan stood there a moment longer. When he received no response, he trudged away down the hill towards camp, leaving her alone again with her thoughts.

Legolas watched from the sparse tree line around their camp. He had followed Evelyn not long after Beriadan's passing. He watched one of Elrond's sons approach her. From where he stood, he could not hear the conversation, but it was clear she had quite clearly dismissed the elf.

The Prince paced, digging a track in the sand. Beriadan was not the first friend and fellow guard he had lost in his life, but he felt the loss like a throbbing wound in his heart. There were few he considered true friends, he had been one of them. Legolas swallowed the lump forming in his throat; war held no time for emotions. He did not understand why he followed the woman. No that was not correct, he knew. He wanted the comfort of her presence, but acknowledging that fact was easier said than done. After their last meeting, he did not expect comfort from Evelyn—she had made her opinion of him and their…whatever it was they had…quite clear. The hollowness it left in him, ran deeper than that of Beriadan's death. He growled in frustration. Legolas stopped abruptly, starring into Evelyn's bloodshot eyes. When had he started walking towards her? He did not remember. Now that he was before he, he found himself at a loss for words.

"A red sun shall rise." He finally stated, pulling his eyes away from Evelyn's.

Evelyn eyed the elf, her gaze narrowed and suspicious. She felt his presence as he approached and braced herself for whatever it was he was going to confront her with. His aura, battered against her own, she could feel his anger, his unease…his pain. The statement caught her off guard. It seemed to have no rational thought behind it.

"Why do you say that?" She asked, wondering where he was taking the conversation. Evelyn knew she should just send him on his way as she had done Elladan.

"Blood has been spilt this day, and so the sun will rise red in remembrance, or so they say." Legolas looked across the horizon, many of the stars hidden from the lingering smoke and ash.

Evelyn studied him for a long moment, realizing he was looking for a distraction as much as she was. Letting out her frustration in a sigh, she decided to oblige him, perhaps it would help her own grief.

"How did you meet?" She cringed at her question, the words slipping out before she could stop them. However, much to her surprise, a ghost of a smile flittered across Legolas' face. It was one of the few times she could remember him smiling. Internally she berated herself for wishing he smiled more. The ellon beside her remained quiet, seeming to be lost in his memories, causing her to jump when he did finally speak.

"He was the son of my father's captain of the guard at the time, and a very persistent elfling." Evelyn frowned slightly at the mention of Thranduil, but worked quickly to control her features. "He was forever pestering me, never leaving my shadow. Beriadan chose me to be his friend, I was given no choice in the matter." He stopped speaking for a moment, a shadow passed over his features. "He was constantly getting me into trouble, but he was always there to help get me out, of taking the brunt of our punishment." He chuckled, remembering an incident that came to mind. His father had been furious, he could barely even remember how long he had been kept from his friend. Thranduil had then decided it was time he start learning the ways of ruling a kingdom. Through all his father's lectures and rebukes, added responsibilities and training, Beriadan remained by his side.

"What?" He questioned, noticing Evelyn jerk her head around to stare at him.

"Nothing." She replied quickly looking away, noting his raised brows she sighed and continued, "You don't laugh often, I was caught off guard. It must have been a good memory."

"Aye, but a story for another day."

Evelyn only nodded, not wanting to push him further. The motion causing the dried tears to glisten under the occasional moonlight.

"Come with me." He stated suddenly. Evelyn raised a brow in question, skeptical of his meaning and intentions. He sighed, seeing the trust they once had was gone.

"You are filthy. I will show you where you can clean up." Even after his explanation, he could sense her hesitation.

"Very well." She conceded, realizing for the first time, just how dirty she felt. She was covered in the blood of orcs, Haradrim, and those of her fellow soldiers. The thought made her cringe, she did not want to know how bad she looked.

Nodding his head at her consent, Legolas strode off towards the small stream they had found. There were not many such oasis in the desert lands of Harad and they were loath to leave this one. He did not look back or wait to see if she followed.

Elladan watched from the outskirts of the camp as he leaned on a wooden tent post. He felt his anger boil as Evelyn accepted the other elf company where she shunned his. The fact that she chose to leave with the Mirkwood Prince, only added fuel to the fire. After everything he had put her through, she chose him over him and the others who spent years trying to help her heal and recover. Seething, he pushed himself off the post and stalked away back towards his tent.

The sight of the small creek was a joyous sight indeed. She could have squealed with joy had it been any other time. Instead, Evelyn turned and thanked Legolas with a small smile.

"I will stand guard behind the tree." He replied, pointing out the line of trees growing around the spring. She nodded, bending down to splash the cool water on her face, her hands coming back black with muck. Evelyn scrubbed her face raw, the burns on her cheek and neck throbbing, but she ignored it, removing the grime of the day was worth it. Sitting by the edge, she pulled of her boots and rolled up her breeches, letting her feet and legs dangle in the cool water.

Evelyn moved to take off the armor. The leather, although supple, was beginning to wear on her skin after so many days of being on and not taken off. The bracers came off easy enough, but when she moved to unbuckle and unlace the chest piece and shoulder guards, she realized she could not reach the stays and her hair, which was coming unbound from the braid, was a tangled mess in the clasps. She cursed.

"What is going on?" Legolas exclaimed, never moving from behind the tree, but Evelyn saw his hand grip his sword hilt, expecting the worse.

"Everything's fine," She called out, looking back to the spring, letting out a sigh. "I just was trying to remove my armor." Evelyn finished, knowing he would pester her for the cause. He fingers continued to struggle with her hair and the buckles.

"Hold still, you are only making it worse."

The voice spoke right above her, causing her to jump, "Shit!"

Legolas snorted, removing her hands from the snare, working hard to ignore the feeling sparking from the contact. It did not help that her legs were bare before him either. The Valar were torturing him. Forcing such thoughts from his mind he responded in kind, "I had forgotten your colorful choices of expression." It was Evelyn's turn to snort at his comment.

She felt his hands begin to work deftly, detangling her hair from the armor. She knew when he had completed and moved to thank him but his fingers continued. The ellon was working through the rest of her hair, the sensation sending shock waves through her body. She should not be letting him help her, letting him be so close. Her choice was made, and she had to stick to it. Allowing him the chance to become close again, was not an option, yet she could not push him away. It felt right, as much as she loathed to admit it. She sighed as her body relaxed and she pushed the thoughts from her mind.

Working on her hair, his thoughts were a jumbled mess. Thoughts of Beriadan still floated in his mind, albeit happier than they previously where, thanks to the strange woman before him. His thoughts now contained Evelyn, adding to his confusion and frustration. He could not make out what he was feeling now. Being near her felt right, but she had made it clear there was no chance of anything forming between them, and yet here she was allowing him to help her, not shunning him. It did not make sense. The ache was near unbearable. Legolas could not help but wonder what it was she had gone through all those years ago. She had claimed she loved him. Surely her pain had been greater than what he currently felt. The realization made him gulp. Had she the ability to fade, he could have very nearly caused it. He consoled himself with the thought that he was not in love with the woman in front of him, but it did nothing to mask the guilt in his heart or the emptiness he could not fill.

As he finished detangling her hair from the armor, he should have stopped, however, his fingers continued to steadily work through her hair. Soon, Evelyn let out a sigh, the tension leaving her body. Legolas worked to hold back a smile, happy knowing he had been able to help her, though he knew he could not let his guard down.

Finally, he finished, pulling the spaulders over her head and releasing the stays to the chest plate, letting her pull it away from her body. Moving around her, he took a seat next to her, collecting the armor pieces, "I will show you how to clean this." He stated, leaving her no option as he began showing her how to clean the leather.

…

A/N: Lyrics from Mo Ghile Mear (our Hero) Lyrics | MetroLyrics

Literal translation below

Once I was a gentle maiden,
But now I am a spent, worn-out widow,
My consort strongly plowing the waves
Over the hills and far away.

He is my hero, my gallant darling,
He is my caesar, a gallant darling;
I've found neither rest nor fortune
Since my gallant darling went far away.

Every day I am constantly enduring grief,
Weeping nitterly and shedding tears,
Because my lively lad has left me
And no news is told of him - alas!

The cuckoo does not sing cheerfully at noon
And the sound of hounds is not heard in nut-tree woods
Nor summer morning in misty glen
Since my lively boy went away from me.

Noble, proud young horseman,
Youth without gloom, of pleasant countenance,
A swift-moving fist, nimble in a fight,
Slaying the enemy and smiting the strong.

Let a strain be played on musical harps,
And let many quarts be filled on the table,
With high spirit, without fault, without gloom,
That my lion may receive long life and health.

Gallant darling for a while under sorrow,
And ireland completely under black cloacks,
I have found neither rest nor fortune
Since my gallant darling went far away