Dwelling on thoughts

Some of this is in Legolas's POV! Yay! As the title suggests, this is mainly what people are thinking and feeling, so if you don't like that kind of thing you have been warned.

Legolas's POV

The refugees trudged on foot or horseback, across the plains. We had departed the same day as Darke, but later on in the day. Our small company rode at the front, with Eowyn as well. I rode up a little further with Gamling and Hama. We were scouting, just in case trouble arose. Though it was doubtful anything would try to harm a procession of this magnitude.

In the quiet and boredom, I listened to Aragorn, Gimli and Eowyn's conversation. The wind blew it straight to my ears.

Gimli was prattling about dwarf women. "Because dwarf women look so much like men," he explained. "This has risen to the belief that there are no dwarf women. And that we just spring out of holes in the ground!" I turned to look behind me, and see Aragorn make a stroking sign beneath his chin. I recalled a time when I had been greatly surprised at the fact dwarf women had beards. I strongly recall calling a locket with a picture of Gimli's mother on it a 'Goblin mutant.' 'Strange how karma works.' I thought to myself.

Just then Gimli's horse ran away from him, leaving him lying on the ground. I whistled and motioned my head toward the bay. It began to trot back. Gimli was protesting. "I meant to do that!" He exclaimed loudly.

Eowyn let out a clear laugh. This shook me from my relatively empty minded state, and brought back memories from last night. Darke had laughed. She had given a smile- a full smile, not those wry half smiles she had for every circumstance- and she had laughed. It was clear and loud- and quite beautiful I realized. For just those few moments the seriousness etched on her face had fallen away, replaced with happiness. Her lopsided smile- even though the scar on her face stopped her from giving a grin, even though it was a so called vampire smile- it lit up her face and made her beautiful. Not that she wasn't already nice looking, I reasoned, but that smile really changed her whole demeanour.

It was then I mentally slapped myself. Since when in the name of Illuvatar had I ever thought of Darke like that!? Not only was it disturbing, it was downright wrong. She was my good friend, my comrade in arms, and that was all. Never before had I thought of her as beautiful. The logical side of me reasoned that she didn't look bad. There certainly was a beauty in the gracefulness she drew her darts from her quiver or her wry smile. But is wasn't that kind of beauty. When I was told someone was beautiful I usually thought of some pretty douche- head duchess, prancing around in cosmetics and ball-gowns. 'No' I decided 'Darke is pretty, but not in any way like that.'

Which then brought me to another moral problem, as is the way of life.

A note from myself (Legolas) to you-I would like to pause for a moment and tell you that life, and indeed your own mind, can be a git. When you've lived for 2 000 odd years and expect to keep living for the next 10 000 at least, you learn that. Sorry that I had to get that out of my system, but you can continue now. So- moral problem.

How did I even get to thinking of Darke like that? What stupid thing made me even think of thinking like that in the first place? I searched my brain for an answer, but it gave none. So in desperation I searched my heart and found the answer.

Last night. The cover that always covered her eyes had come off. The first time in Lorien, all we had seen was a brief flash of anger and sorrow, but then she had tied the ribbon back around her head and we saw no more. But last night, primal curiosity awoke when it fell off her face. An urge to know why she always kept them hidden. I had forestalled her just so I could catch a glance and know. When I tied that strip around her eyes, I managed to get a good look at her face.

It was true- the eyes really were a window to the soul. On the first layers, all they showed was a determination, and a deceiving calm. But if you looked deeper, you could see desperation, and her real emotions underneath. All the pain and sorrow, even a dash of fear. But it was the middle, hidden deep inside you could see she was truly scared. There was a part of her that just wanted to curl up into a ball and hide- or to just be held like a child and be told everything was alright. But of course that was impossible. She wouldn't allow herself to, ans there was no-one for her. So she kept her weaknesses hidden deep as possible where no-one could see- and the material around her eyes was a physical representation of that.

She had no control over her eyes, I realised. She always noticed when she was being looked at, but when I looked straight into her eyes she didn't notice at all. One could practically read her mind, without her even noticing. A chill went through me. I had seen the grey and gold that she kept hidden, seen into her soul. I had invaded her innermost sanctum and she didn't even know. I shivered. I had done an evil.

Suddenly I was shaken from my thoughts by a cry from Gamling. "Warg's!" he yelled to no-one in particular, as a brown hulking beast with an orc astride raced down the hill and knocked Hama off his horse. Quickly I drew my bow and shot it between the eyes. I ran over to the orc, my long knife in one hand. Swiftly I decapitated it. "A scout!" I yelled back to Aragorn. "We're under attack!"


Darke's POV

A few hours after I took off the fog cleared. Finally I could fly up high in the air, able to navigate winds currents and keep my wings loose. I embraced the feeling of having the wind rush past me and underneath my wings, ripping at my clothes and weapons. For about a day I had stuck to a wind current taking me in the exact right direction. After flying to a height so far up there was little oxygen, I kept myself in a shallow decline for leagues on end to save energy and pick up speed. Flying was exhilarating. Already I had travelled around 270- 300 leagues. Just a quarter day longer and I could go down lower to scout for the riders of Rohan.

The riders were most likely to head for Mirkwood. On their current path they were headed directly for the brown lands, which were not pleasant at all. I heard a caw from a passing crow. Alarmed probably at the sight of a person flying 2 kilometers in the air. I was taking a short route, near the edge of the Fangorn, before I would vear more eastwood towards Mirkwood. This path would save time, and my predictions for where people were hadn't been wrong for at least the last 2 000 years.

Mirkwood. For the past 100 odd years, a sickness had fallen upon that forest. No longer did the finches twitters of the deer frollick. The infestation of spiders did not help matters either. The only place of good left there was the elves realm, and immediate surroundings.

Thinking of elves, and Mirkwood and whatnot made me think of of Legolas, and by extension Aragorn, Gimli and Gandalf. I was worried for them and the Eorlingas. Logic told me that nothing was likely to attack a group of that magnitude, but thinking of my companions reminded me that we alway's seemed to find trouble. I wouldn't be surprised if a pack of foolish wolves decided to attack them. Gandalf should look after them though, I reasoned to myself. And if his idea's don't work Legolas can always work his elf magic and befriend the beasts.

I've got to say that lately Legolas had surprised me a lot. My initial observations and impressions were of a kind, serious and thoughtful person. But as I got to know him, I found he could also be funny and even positivly cheeky when he wanted to be.

A good friend I realised. There was obviously a close connection between all of our company- we had been through so much together that we were all very close. But I couldn't help but feel a deeper connection between the two of us- we just related to each other somehow. Maybe it was just the fact we both use long range weapons, but I think it went deeper than that. It could be that we had both lost much. He had lost his mother, his father was cold and distant toward him, and of course there was the loss of Tauriel 60 years ago- His best friend since childhood, possibly he had felt something a little more. She had gone to find her lover, a dwarf named Kili's, family. I recalled flying above ruins on the lonely mountain after the battle of five armies, and hearing her conversation with the king. She had never even said goodbye to Legolas- and 60 years was still an unhealed wound in the years of an elf.

With a flap of my wings, my thoughts drifted onto last night. Mainly silly bantering, and a lot of laughter about that tunic. But for the first time in millennia I had smiled, and laughed. Just from the mere feeling of being in a good friends company. Had I been alone, I would have probably just shrugged and continued on with what I was doing.

It struck me that this journey was changing me. For the first time, I needed to get along with people, not isolate myself. In the past, I had purposely kept away from contact so I wouldn't have to collaberate, make friends, and prepare myself for their eventual loss. In my whole life there had only been 5 people who I had made friends with, and enjoyed their company. Three of them I had only met from crazed chance or urging from another. As I dwelt on this, a hollow feeling grew inside me as I had not felt from 11 years of age. Loneliness, the longing for the company of those I new. After just a day of no contact I was now feeling lonely, where as before I had spent years on end in isolation. This journey had changed me. For better or worse I did not know.

A warm fuzzy emotion grew inside me. It was nice to have friends, to have company. Maybe it was the thing Galadriel told me that I hadn't had. But then, I have always thought prophecies are a load of rith(cr4p). Why not just see how life plays out?

My thoughts strayed onto the companies different aspects. Merry and Pippin were fun loving, and always lending an amusing perspective to the world. They were not so innocent children in a dangerous world. Frodo was alway's troubled but he did the best he could with that ring. Sam was unwaveringly honest and loyal- no explanation needed. Aragorn and Gandalf both had wisdom and strength at hand. Gimli was- just Gimli. But his constant grumbles always led to laughter among our motly crew. Of course there was poor desceased Borimer- and though he had succumbed to the ring he had stayed a brave and fierce warrior to the end.

And then there was Legolas. Always him. He was an archer to be feared, certainly. But he was always observing- noticing the things we didn't. And when something serious happened he was the silent type, watching and reacting accordingly. I realised he could quite possibly be my closest friend within the fellowship. Apart from the fact that we could relate, we shared things. I remembered when we left Lorien. He had just heard my past, but still didn't act in horror or reverence. He trusted me of all people to know of the nightmares he experienced, and in return I had shared my love of music. There was a connection, a inseperable bond. Somehow I felt that even when our fellows were dead and gone, we would still remain close. The warm fuzzy feeling strengthend. What was this mysterious emotion? I had never experienced it before. I didn't believe that I would find out any time soon, but for some reason I didn't mind.

For the net few hours I drifted into a state of 'not thinking.' It was the closest thing to a rest that I got. Unconciously I navigated air currents, and after two hours of flying straight, I veered east towards mirkwood. Just another hour, and I would be almost on top of the riders. I flew lower, so just the very bottom of the clouds hid me from farmers looking up. It was only mid morning, so they couldn't be told they were drunk. And being clothed in black against a probable blue and white sky, it's hard to remain hidden flying low. After drifting for another hour, I dropped to the ground landing behind a tree. I prayed that no people had seen me, because I couldn't hear people from the distance I was in the air, with the wind ripping at my garments. Unless the person was shouting of course.

Donning my hood and cloak, I walked until I was about 2 miles from the border of mirkwood. Carefully I put my ear to the ground, hoping to hear them within a few miles. Luckily, Illuvatar was with me. They weren't but 5 miles south-west of my location. Speaking of the whole of Arda, that was very accurate. I took off my cloak and hood, and rose into the air. I went into sprint mode, wings rigid, skimming the cloud tops. When I beat my wings, the beats were small and fast, not the slow front to back flaps I usually favoured. Halting for a moment, I could hear and smell the horses around 100 meters ahead, about to round a hill. I dropped like a stone from behind them, then began running behind the hill. I could cut across ways on foot that were inacessable on a horse. I fastened my cape around my neck and flicked my cowl up as I ran. It was time for a meeting with Eomer.

I stood on the top of the hill, waving my arms and yelling as loud as possible. "Riders of Rohan, I bring a message from your king! It is of great importance! Riders of Rohan!" They kept on riding, though I felt some eyes fall upon me. "I bring news from your king!" I yelled again. There was unintelligible talking just drifting over the hoof-beats. I felt vibrations through my boots as a lone rider cantered up to me. He put a sword to my throat.

"Who are you, and what do you want?" He asked. I took a deep breath. This would have to be handled diplomatically, not one of my strong points. I tended to put people off by being overly blunt. "I bring a message from your people. I must talk to Eomer, your leader."

"And who are you?"

"I am a friend of Gandalf the grey. It was he who bid me to give Eomer his message." His sword wavered a little at my throat, betraying disbelief. A silence stretched.

"And do you have proof?" The rider finally asked me.

"I have a note, but that is for Eomers eyes only." I replied. Gandalf had indeed given me a note, as we had been walking to the balcony the morning I left.

"Very well." He said. "Climb on" he patted his horses rump "and I will take you to him. But do not try anything."

"That would be pointless for my goal." I told him. Holding back a grimace I climbed behind the man onto the horse. 'Note to self, avoid riding horses." I thought. Having never learnt to ride, my behind was already sore after just minutes of galloping.

I could feel the Eorlingas looking at me as we drew alongside Eomer. "Sir," the man told him "he brings a message from Gandalf." I fought the urge to roll my eyes at this. People really were unobservant, or too ready to assume. Just because I was tall, had a deep voice and carried weapons does not necessarily mean that I was male. There was different atomony.

"How can we be sure?" Eomer answered the man.

"He says he bears a note sir."

Eomer turned to face me. "May I see this note?" He asked expectantly. I nodded. I pulled a folded piece of paper from my glove. Somehow Eomer managed to read the thing while his horse was at a canter. "Very well." He said. "Lets talk." He exchanged words with a man on the other side of him, probably his depuety. He made a motion for the man who I was riding with to follow him, and we cantered away from the main group, to behind a large boulder. I dismounted, and Eomer did the same. "You may go Manus." He told the other man. He rode off.

"So," Eomer began, "It is quite clear that you do come from Gandalf. It is also clear that this is against the kings wishes, but for the good of the people. What is your message?"

"Your people flee to Helms Deep as we speak. Theoden does not wish to risk open war, although it is already upon him. If you do not come, Helms Deep will be left open for Sauruman to attack, and there will be no proper defenses. Your coming may- persuade Theoden to march upon Saruman while we still have the element of surprise."

"So, the wizard wishes for us to come to his aid?"

"He wishes for you to come and save the lives of your kin."

Eomer thought hard, and carefully. If I could see, there would have been cogs whirring atop his helmet. Was he to help his people in their hour of need? Or save his men from the kings quite possible wrath? It was a tough desicion for him.

"The king has been cured from Saruman's poison, but no-one can guess his thoughts on the banishment." I told him, hoping to be helpful.

As it turned out, it was. As soon as the words left my mouth he straightened up, content with his desicion. "We will come." He said. "We will not abandon our kinsmen in their time of need. We will make sure that the Eorlingas do not fall."

"That's good." I said. I left out the rest of my thought 'or they will all end up as Urak food.' I didn't think it was the right thing to say on a diplomatic mission. "The Eorlingas should be at Helms Deep within the day."

"That is good." Eomer said. "I will get my men to camp for the night, before they set for the journey in early morning. Our journeys have not been easy on them."

"I can guess." I replied.

"Well." Eomer began to finalise. "I would offer you to come back with us, but judging the speed you got here I believe you would just be hampered. The wonders of elves! It has been a pleasure speaking with you Mrs Darke." My eyebrow raised at this.

"Just Darke, I am no mrs."

"Oh" He said surprised. "Yes, of course, you elves are different aren't you?" He said. There was bemusement in his voice.

I myself was confused, until I realised the sun shone into my face. He could probably see my ears. "I am no elf." I told him. "Just a freak of nature."

Another 'oh' came from his mouth. "All well. Nice speaking with you Darke, and I hope the rest of your strange company fare well!" He said. With that he swung up onto his horse and cantered off. I stood for a few minutes until he had gone from where he could see. Putting my cloak and hood back into my belt, I rose into the sky.


Legolas's POV

"A scout!" I yelled "We're under attack!" Aragorn raced to warn Theoden while Gimli tried to get on a horse. Ignoring them, I ran up to the side of the cliff. 50 odd warg riding orcs ran around at the bottom. The Rohirrim came up behind me. I fired several shots before swinging onto my own horse. A trick learned by my old mentor. Use the momentum to propel yourself around.

Theoden made a charge signal with his sword. Horse and warg, orc and man collided. I shot another orc, before pulling out my knife. It was handy in close attacks like this. Gimli fell off the horse from behind me. Luckily he was alright, and began to charge a riderless warg head on. I shot it through the eye before Gimli could land his blow. Gimli ran off in another direction, only to have a warg fall onto him. There was no time to help him now though. Putting my bow into its quiver, I galloped past orcs and wargs slitting their throats and decapitating their heads before they noticed I was coming. At one point I passed Aragorn, who was in a tangle with a particularly disgusting orc. Just as it was going to bite of his hand I thrust my knife through its side.

I then galloped off to help Gamling hold off another three advancing riders. I managed to shoot one rider from behind before the others noticed the attack from behind. An orc leered over me, his hot breath on my face. Arod kept on moving, so I leaped off him just as I pushed the orc in the middle. In a bizarre stroke of luck, this catapulted the beast over my head so it landed on its skull first behind me and broke its neck. Shrugging confusion off, I engaged in a duel with one of the more skilled orcs. After several blows and parries Aragorn give a short yell, before being cut off. Whipping my head around, I struck the orc on the temple with the butt of my knife.

"Aragorn!" I yelled over to him. I couldn't see him anywhere and raced past a choking orc. Kneeling down I looked for tracks. There were warg tracks leading off the edge of the cliff, and a funny looking drag mark alongside the prints. The orc behind me gave a gurgling chuckle and I went over to him. Gimli already had his axe at his face. "Tell me what happened and I will ease your passing." Gimli threatened the orc. The orc wheezed. "He took a little tumble off the cliff..." I was enraged. I grabbed the orcs shirt and brought him up to my face. "You lie." I hissed through a snarl. "Ha- ha- haa" The orc had its last laugh right before it died. Disgusted I threw the body back onto the ground. Something fell out of its hand. I picked it up. A beautiful crystalline pendant, on a chain of silver. The evenstar. I picked it up and walked to see the water rush beneath the precipice. There was no sign of Aragorn, or his killer.

"Get the wounded on horses. The wolves of Isenguard will return. Leave the dead." Theoden commanded his men. I looked at him confused. Death was not a common thing among us elves, so when someone died we made sure to treat them with the proper respect and reverence. We never left them for the carrion birds. Theoden looked at Gimli and I sadly. "Come." Gimli and I stayed for another minute, staring at the blue and white waters. I hung the evenstar around my neck. Two necklaces. Two promises. One was already broken. I couldn't be sure how long the next one would be kept. As is the way of war.


Thank-you for reading:) I hoped you liked Legolas's POV, and please let me know if you don't think that he's in character. Follow, favourite and most of all review! :)