Chapter Four ~ Preparations for War
Salad she would have greatly preferred, but Lossiel wasn't about to complain. She was grateful that there were many fruits before her, and she even discreetly tossed an apple or two in her bag, for good measure. The cheese was good too; it was something she just realized she had missed. Now, her and the others — Gimli, Aragorn, Legolas and Gandalf — were given some food and drink before they would set out to fight Isengard's forces, as the Wizard had previously counselled the king to do.
She drew random designs on the long wooden table as she thought about what had just transpired; she was more like the type that kept quiet unless spoken to. Théoden now looked healthy and seemed to have had years washed away from him. His shoulder-length blonde hair was shiny and thick, and so was his equally golden beard, which now was much shorter. Wrinkles had smoothed away and much strength had been given back to his previously frail muscles.
Éomer had been dismissed from his unfair imprisonment and Gríma had left, sent crawling back to the treacherous Saruman. Théoden and his army were to go to Helm's Deep, and so were Lossiel and the others. They were now sitting by the king's board for a quick meal before they would depart. Only Théoden and Gandalf were talking for the moment. Éomer hadn't spoken up about her presence, but Lossiel could tell he was a bit confused about it. Gandalf was there, so she figured he thought she turned up the same way as the Wizard did, or something quite similar.
"Lossiel?" she heard Legolas start from her right in a slightly hushed voice, making her halt her traced drawings as she looked back at him. "You have mentioned your father had crafted your blades, is he a blacksmith?" he asked. "I have never seen such weapons before."
"Yes, he is," she replied with a small smile. "I possess a creative mind, truth be told," she justified, insinuating that her daggers had been thought up by her.
"Drawing weapons!" Gimli, who sat on Legolas' other side, interjected. "That must be the last thing I would imagine an Elf-maiden do on her spare time."
That made said 'Elf-maiden' chuckle. "My little brother often asked me to think up of odd weapons for him to attempt to craft — for he was an aspiring blacksmith back then. I was, and still am, the most imaginative of us two," she explained.
There was one thing that troubled the other Elf. Well, confused would better fit the current situation, but it isn't the best term either... Last night, Lossiel had been reluctant to speak of her family with Gandalf, whom she seems to know and trust badly — she even stayed silent and categorically refused to speak. And yet, now, she smiled as she contradicted her previous actions with Gimli and himself. Aragorn seemed to listen to what she was saying as well.
"Was a blacksmith's work your own wish as well?" he asked her.
"No, guard duty tends to get dull and repetitive," she replied, gently shaking her head at the same time, her smile still curling her lips. "I thought about them—"
"—And to you, my other guests, I will offer such things as may be found in my armoury," Théoden told them, loud enough to interrupt their practically quiet conversation, as he looked over at them. He didn't have the slightest idea that he had interrupted the female Elf. "Swords you do not need, but we possess coats of mail of great work. Chose from ere we go, and may they serve you well!"
Lossiel's gaze shifted towards some of the large room's doors — many metallic sounds echoed from there. It didn't take too long before men came through it while bearing armfuls of battle equipment. One of the men handed her a few small sets of chainmail, most likely of different sizes, and then gave her directions to a small room for her to change in. To be honest, she doubted that the metal tunics would fit her lithe female Elven body, but she still thanked him before she headed over there.
She, somewhat nervously, found the small room and slipped off both her cloak and her leather armour once she had set down the mails and locked the door behind her. She thought about how long it has been since the last time she wore that same dark leather as her gaze danced across its engraved leafy details. She shook her head to clear her thoughts, and that's when she noticed a tall, slim mirror leaning against a wall in the wooden room, making her head towards it. She still wore her thin undershirt and leather bottoms, by the way.
She stared at her own reflexion, noticing that the scar near her scalp Gandalf had told her she had recently gotten was now gone. Her skin was fully healed, even over such a short period of time, thanks to her Elven blood. She then looked straight into her navy blue eyes, which surprised her with their dullness. She smiled at herself, hoping to see some brightness somewhere, but only found none. She didn't feel at all like what her reflexion gave her, did she always look that depressed?
She shook her head once more to clear her thoughts and she pulled the metallic tunic over her undershirt. She looked back at herself in the tall golden mirror, sticking out her tongue at herself — a little habit she childishly grew into — as she thought it was far too large for her. She took it back once she noticed the piece of clothing practically hugged her curves, if not for the few centimetre difference.
They had mail specifically for women? Shieldmaidens! Of course!
With renewed enthusiasm, she tried on another, and another, until she settled on the one that made her feel less like she was floating it it. It was a pretty close match, truth be told. She put back on her leather armour, and she smiled in satisfaction when it seemed better to wear as such. She stretched a bit to make sure her movements weren't hindered by it.
She passed a hand through her long blonde locks, softening them from what had just transpired and admiring her new military look from the mirror. She gently held onto her daggers' hilts to reassure herself that she remembered their grip's feeling, and stressed a bit from her recent fighting inactivity. She took a deep breath, telling herself that as long as she wasn't alone, surrounded by enemies, she should be fine.
A knock pulled her out of her thoughts, making her look back at the locked door. "Lossiel, are you there?" she heard Legolas' clear voice echo through the wood.
She didn't answer until she shortly opened the door. "As a matter of fact, I am," she told him as she turned around to gather the larger sets of silver mail at the mirror's foot. "I apologize for taking too long," she added as she arrived at her destination.
"Nay, I should apologize for intruding," he replied as she walked back next to him. He reached to hold onto some of the mails for her. "The king had also kindly offered us helms and shields, I simply wished to inform you," he added with a kind smile.
"Thank you," she told him, not voicing the confusion she felt as to why he had sought her out to tell her that, and not once she would have been back.
She didn't have to wonder for too long, for Legolas suddenly blurted out, "Why did you not mention your mother, earlier?" He didn't sound accusing or anything, he was simply innocently asking.
"Because no one asked," she shrugged. Legolas could have said that no one asked about her brother, but he figured Gimli indirectly had. Knowing where the conversation was heading, Lossiel said, "She is high up somewhere in Mirkwood's military, I reckon." She then slightly tilted her head to the side. "Why the sudden interest in my family?" was that innocent question of her own.
"I was only curious," he answered. "I wish to know you better, not only as Mithrandir's friend."
That's when the She-Elf's gaze slightly narrowed. "Yes, because family dictates one's psychological traits," she dryly replied, starting for the opened door.
"Wait," he said in Sindarin, effectively halting her light steps, as he learnt the hard way what troubled her. "That is far from what I meant," he continued in that same language. The girl turned around, silently telling him she was listening to him, but her lifeless expression hadn't changed. "Knowing one's family may help acquaintances, what was the environment in which they grew up and such. It is but a mere guide, at first, from which learnt traits spring."
It took a few moments for his words to sink in, but Lossiel had to admit that he was right, a twitched half-smile remaining onto her lips. "You do have a point, Legolas," she replied in Sindarin as well. Her gaze traveled across the room before she cleared her throat. "I uh, apologize, f-for drawing my conclusions too swiftly," she told him, risking her eyes towards his cerulean gaze.
He smiled at her. "There is nothing to forgive," he said. "Let us go," he then told her, still not switching back to the Common Speech.
She nodded and they went back towards the main hall, exchanging a few words and smiles about their previous horseback ride. Aragorn wore a new coat of mails and held a helm, and Gimli wore a new leather iron-enforced cap, his dwarvish mail much better than the Gondorian one that he had been offered. He held a round shield that fitted his stature, and so did the Ranger.
Gandalf was speaking with Théoden once more and with a few more men, but he still took notice of the two Elves' return and sent a smile their way. Once she had given back her extra sets of mail, Lossiel only chose a helm for herself; a shield would only hinder her double wielding. So did Legolas.
"Receive this cup and drink in happy hour." Éowyn spoke up after a while, holding onto a golden cup filled to the brim with crimson wine. "Health be with thee at thy going and coming!"
She handed the cup to her king first, and he drank from it. The five guests all stood in a line to receive it in turn. Éowyn paused in front of Aragorn, hailing him, and he did the same to her, only, he seemed troubled afterwards. When it was her turn, Lossiel gave her a small smile — she felt like it was what one did in this odd situation. When the guests all had a sip of the alcoholic beverage, Théoden went back towards the hall's doors to speak with some men. The She-Elf held no interest in politics so she didn't even try to listen to what was exchanged over there.
Instead, she looked around and thought about the upcoming battle. She knew that, in human society, females weren't treated equally compared to their male counterparts, but the people here didn't seem to mind her presence. Then again, they had shieldmaidens... She could easily see people glance at her ears — she figured the same was happening to Legolas — but she pretended not to notice even though all she wanted to do right now was to pull up her hood over her features and hide from plain sight. Yes, she could do that, but she wouldn't.
She forced the focus of her thoughts to shift, and that's when the floating fire she had glimpsed a mere hour or two earlier surfaced in her mind. She felt sick to her stomach to have seen Sauron's eye, even from that great distance. She grimaced once more at the thought.
"Something troubling you?" she heard a oh-so-familiar voice inquire from in front of her, making her gaze lock with her interlocutor's as relief already washed over her.
"Nay, no troubles, Mithrandir, only simple unease," she truthfully replied with a slight sigh.
"Yes, civilization tends to have that effect at first," the Wizard jested, even if it held a bit of truth.
It made Lossiel softly laugh before she seriously said, growing a bit grim, "I believe I may have seen... His eye." She didn't feel like saying 'Sauron' at the moment.
Gandalf turned serious as well. "Yes, Legolas informed me as much earlier. Do not worry too much, for many leagues separates us from him."
The She-Elf nodded and half-smiled in appreciation. "Thank you," she told him.
Gandalf nodded in turn, only to look at his right. Lossiel did the same and she noticed that Théoden was making his way back to his seat, only for Éowyn to kneel before him once he was seated. He gave her a rather pretty corset and a sharp-looking sword.
"Farewell, sister-daughter!" the king told his niece. "Dark is the hour, yet maybe we shall return to the Golden Hall. If the battle goes ill, thither will come all who escape."
"Speak not so!" she replied, looking up at him. "A year I shall endure for every day that passes until your return," she added as her gaze shifted towards Aragorn, who stood not too far from them.
"The king shall come again," he said. "Fear not! Not West, but East does our doom await us."
'And I saw it...' bitterly thought Lossiel.
Then, Gandalf walked in tow with the king as he descended the stairs connecting the hall to the rest of the city. The others all followed close behind. Lossiel looked behind her, wanting to see Meduseld once more, and that's when she noticed Éowyn standing there, overlooking all of them. She was garbed in shining silver mail and she held onto the carefully decorated hilt of her new sword, its blade perpendicularly meeting the platform's floor.
The She-Elf was walking beside Legolas and Gimli, who was on the Elf's other side. With their previous conversation, she felt a bit more comfortable around the Mirkwood Elf than the others, but she also figured that the simple fact that they were the only two elves around helped as well. That they hailed from the same place only further proved her point. It would do for now, at least.
"At last we set off!" she heard Gimli exclaim, earning himself her attention. "Men need many words before deeds. My axe is restless in my hands, but how shall I come to battle? I wish I could walk and not bump like a sack at Gandalf's saddle-bow," he continued, looking up at the Elf next to him.
"A safer seat than many, I guess," Legolas replied, looking down at him.
Lossiel wanted to join the conversation, to tell him that she, too, was apprehensive about the imminent horseback ride. Words refused to leave her lips, so she contended herself with humming in agreement with the other instead.
"Yet doubtless Gandalf will gladly put you down on your feet when blows begin. An axe is no weapon for a rider," he continued with a smile.
"And a Dwarf is no horseman," the other replied.
"Neither is an isolated Elf," Lossiel finally added her two pennies' worth as she first wanted to. She smiled at Gimli as she added, "It is even more embarrassing when you are expected to know how to ride — which I do not." She added that last part with a nervous chuckle.
"Yes, I have noticed," Legolas replied with a smirk, making the other gasp in childish mock indignation, a hand on her chest. By the Valar, what would Gandalf— Good, he hadn't been paying attention. She was never doing that again… "You can ride with me again," he offered.
Her act had been dropped for a while now, so she appreciatively smiled at him and nodded, thanking him in their native language, to which he replied in the same language that it was nothing. This Sindarin exchange earned them both a mumbled 'Sneaky Elves and their secrets' from a mock disgruntled Dwarf, but only ended up in making them all chuckle.
It didn't take much more time for them to reach the city's gates, where there already were many men mounted and ready to ride onwards towards battles. Lossiel could estimate that more than a thousand were mounted before them, sharp and well-tended spears tight in their hands. They shouted with joy and pride at their king's sight as he came before them. A few men were standing, holding onto few horses' bridles, namely the king's steed, Arod and Hasufel. There was one more horse, one that the She-Elf figured was for her, for it didn't have a saddle nor a bridle, similar to Arod.
There she stood, mimicking Gimli's ill at ease expression. She really needed to learn how to ride one of these, and she doubted words in the Silvan tongue would compensate for her lack of riding skills, it simply had been much too long. Before she could tell the man holding onto the other horse that she wouldn't need him — for she had accepted Legolas' kind offer — she felt herself being hoisted up onto a horse's bare back.
Looking down, she noticed she was on Arod's back and it didn't take much more time for Legolas to take his own spot, behind her this time. He explained that this way, if battle suddenly came to them, she would be able to fight as well instead of holding onto dear life in the heat of the fight. Still, she couldn't help but feel a bit embarrassed and asked him, if they found the time, if he could teach her how to ride on her own. It was a request to which he gladly obliged.
"Hail, Gimli, Glóin's son!" she heard from not too far behind her, making her crane her neck to see who was talking. "I have not had time to learn gentle speech under your rod, as you promised. But shall we not put aside our quarrel?"
Lossiel looked at Legolas with a puzzled light dancing in her irises, to which he replied, barely above a whisper, that he'd explain when they set off shortly.
"I will forget my wrath for a while, Éomer son of Éomund," Gimli answered. "but if ever you chance to see the Lady Galadriel with your own eyes, then you shall acknowledge her the fairest of ladies, or our friendship will end."
The She-Elf had an idea about what that 'quarrel' was about by now, truth be told, but she told herself that she wouldn't draw her conclusions too swiftly like last time. She would wait for the whole story.
"So be it!" Éomer replied with a nod. "But in that time, in token of pardon, ride with me, if you will."
"I thank you indeed," the other replied, obviously pleased with the outcome of recent events. "I will gladly go with you, if Legolas, my comrade, may ride with us."
"It shall be so," the Rohirrim said. "Legolas upon my left, and Aragorn upon my right, and none will dare to stand before us!" he concluded. Lossiel frowned at the failed mention of her name, only for it to be wiped out by, "Lossiel? Why are you not upon Rapidash?"
She was about to reply, but Gimli's tongue was quicker as he said in her stead, "Lassie here shares my inexperience with horses." This earned him a smile from her. "Even I know these creatures can feel your unease and will try to take advantage of it," he added.
Éomer nodded at that justification, seemingly satisfied with it, and told the men holding onto this aforementioned Rapidash to let it go back to the stables in their own language. Then, Gandalf asked about Shadowfax's whereabouts. The Fangorn Forest's Elf could guess what his own gift had been, for the Wizard wore no new apparel from the king's armoury. In addition, Théoden's words about the gift already been given only added to that assumption. Once he found himself on his beloved steed, Gandalf got rid of his grey apparel and found himself garbed, once more, in a white so pure that Lossiel could compare it to her namesake veiling the mountains.
"All hail the White Rider!" Aragorn shouted, only for the words to be repeated by the She-Elf and many more present.
And they all were then off towards Helm's Deep, still watched over by Edoras' new temporary Lord…
A.N. Rapidash. I had to. I just had to. XD I hope it made you laugh~ ;3 Anyways, here you go, I hope you liked it! How do you think things are going along? I'd love to know! Objections and/or constructive criticism are always welcomed! Have a nice day~ :3