Elwin – Eternal Love
Note: After that horrific amount of delay with the last chapter, and on this one, to make it up to you guys I tried to make this one longer :D My life's been quite hectic but now everything has calmed down (hopefully) and also it's the summer holidays, so we should be back on schedule!
(I think I need like a magic, squawking alarm clock or something that stops me from getting distracted and shouts at me to get on with everything… that would probably be very useful.)
~ Chapter 7 ~
"Legolas! Legolas, wait! Oh, you–" I had to press my lips together, scrunching up my face (which must have looked rather strange to any onlookers) to stop myself from cursing loudly in public.
He cannot have escaped too far away… where could he have gone?
People were pushing past me, enveloping around me like a swarm of angry bees. They took little notice that I was even there at all, far too absorbed in their own daily business to care – for all they knew, I could have been doing the same, shoving a path through them all not because I was looking for Legolas but because I was too wrapped up in my own world to bother about them.
After a good hour or so looking for the elusive Elf, I finally had to admit defeat – I did not quite understand why he seemed so mad at me (I was still pretty angry at him) but whatever I had done seemed to be reason enough for him to avoid me.
I at least hoped Legolas had sought out Éomer to apologise, as I had requested, but some part of me doubted that he would bother after what just happened.
A sigh passed through my lips and if there had not been so many people around I would have liked to sink to the ground and scream to myself. Were all relationships this complicated? Or were Legolas and I just… not compatible? I did not know if what we had even counted as a relationship – an affectionate rivalry, maybe.
Where was Éowyn when I needed her, because I sure could do with someone to hold me right now (and Legolas was certainly no option)? Seeing Éomer I doubt would help me, but Aragorn or Gimli would suffice (if I could find them, that is) – but what I really just wanted was an embrace of some sort, with Éowyn's soft words of advice and comfort drifting through my ears. Éowyn usually knew what to say and do in these situations, being the good friend to me that she was.
With evening on its way, I groaned quietly under my breath, begrudgingly acknowledging the fact that Legolas had long since run off to somewhere by now. It was still busy out, but the city would soon be sleeping and – having made a circle around Edoras – the Golden Hall was close by, so I decided to start making my way back inside to the sleeping quarters. A chill wind accompanied the dark clouds that were beginning to mark the sky, so the prospect of a warm hearth and some food, not to mention hopefully running into Éowyn again so we could talk and relax, was a tempting prospect.
Unfortunately, Eru seemed to have decided that some peace and a little rest was evidently not on my cards for this evening, however much I wished for it to be, for as soon as I entered the sleeping quaters my eyes were met with a rather frustrating sight.
"You have been here the whole time?!" I wanted to scream at Legolas but my voice barely managed above a tight hiss under my breath. "You ran off, I have looked everywhere for you!"
Éowyn was not here, but Aragorn and Gimli were. They looked up at my sudden arrival, alarmed, and their bodies shifted in my direction – they noticed my face red with anger and prepared themselves to run over and split the two of us up if things got too out of hand.
Locking my eyes in cold, unmoving stare, Legolas' mouth tightened into a thin line. "Obviously not everywhere. And it did not appear you cared that much, either."
My lips curled back over my teeth in a vehement scowl, choosing to blatantly ignore that last part. "I did not spend my time searching just to have you back-mouth me. What's wrong, I do not understand?"
Why Legolas was annoyed with me was beyond me – what had I done to insult him? I was supposed to be mad at Legolas, not the other way round!
Voice faltering slightly, Legolas continued to glare at me, nostrils flaring and eyes flashing. "I do not know if this has occurred to you, Elwin, but there are more important things going right now than one of your foolish flings. That is what is wrong."
Whatever you mean by 'flings', I was about to hiss to him, but the room enveloping into darkness signified that (besides Legolas and I, and possibly Aragorn) the rest of our companions were asleep. I must have been staring because after a number of heavy, silent seconds had ticked by, Legolas caught my eyes with another withering look and immediately chose to go and stand outside on the steps. Hood yanked over his eyes, the Elf was gone in a flurry of limbs and soft grey-green material. Aragorn joined him shortly after.
Was I to go after them? I decided against it; whatever they were going to discuss it would not include me (were it battle strategies, plans to advance, or myself that they were conversing about), or Aragorn would have signalled for me to join them. I suppose the most use I would be now would be to stay with the others and watch over them (at least until I drifted off myself) as they rested.
I pitched my things in a corner, emotionally exhausted from the events of today. Something Legolas had said had struck me as odd; what was all this about flings? Did he think I had just tossed him aside now that Éomer had come into the picture? Men…
Though, despite everything, Legolas was right – there were far, far more important things to worry about right now (though he need not have said it in such a boorish manner).
I thought I could occupy the would-be hours with polishing my bow and frivolously arranging what little items I kept in my small pack, but it did not take long for the finals drops of energy departed from my body. There might have been some hushed whispering or scuffling from across the room, but I merely placed it down to my jaded mind hearing things, and eventually I felt my eyes glazing over.
Not long after Legolas and Aragorn had stepped outside and things had settled down, there was a startling shout. At once everyone jumped to their feet, dazedly blinking away the stars and dark spots in their vision that lingered from sleep – feet staggered and heads shaking away the last remnants of slumber still, but weapons at the ready nonetheless.
It did not take us long to seek out the source of the scream – Pippin had suddenly started to hyperventilate, yelping and gasping in terror… the palantir held rigidly before him.
Oh, no. Oh, Eru, Pippin.
I made a move towards the Hobbit but Legolas' hand was quicker and he wrenched me back in one swift movement. I had not even noticed the Elf's presence appear, melting from the shadows to my side in an instant. Graciously, I turned the wrist Legolas had taken into his grip and knotted my fingers through his own; I was far too concerned for Pippin to stay mad at Legolas.
"N'uma, daro," he said, murmuring for me to stop. There was a moment of tense hesitation before slender fingers, chilled from the brisk winds outside, squeezed back – apparently, Legolas had also forgiven me for the moment, and I was thankful for that.
I had been about to question why Legolas was holding me back (in fact, now that I think back, Legolas was always doing this to me, though this was no time to go into that) but as I observed the scene, I realised there was little I – we – could do, except stand back and make sure nobody else got hurt – too many people grabbing and shouting at Pippin would most likely panic the poor Hobbit even more.
Pippin sank to his knees, his mouth open in a soundless scream. He fell backwards, powerless to release the fiery globe. Aragorn rushed forward to his aid, trying to wrench the accursed object from Pippin's paralyzed grip. Meanwhile Merry was growing restless, creased expression and unsteady, twitching movements making his unease increasingly evident.
Following suit of Legolas, I reached forward with my free hand and placed it on Merry's shoulder, squeezing gently before pulling him back against my body. Though it was not particularly cold inside, Merry was shivering, every fibre of his being on edge as he watched Aragorn try to help his best friend.
After a short struggle, Aragorn finally managed to force the palantir from the trembling Hobbit's clutch; Pippin collapsed immediately, while Aragorn spun away, reeling backwards as the glowing orb tumbled from his hands.
Though free from the control of the palantir, from the Pippin was babbling, post-trauma. Merry was the first to reach him, breaking free from my hold and charging forward to Pippin.
I drew in a sharp intake of breath, cowering back a little as the palantir rolled closer to us; Legolas went as far as to take a step back from the offending object, drawing me back with him.
"Fool of a Took!" Gandalf huffed, angry disbelief marring the usually so friendly and twinkling features. Using his staff, Gandalf swept a blanket from the floor and tossed over the palantir – we could relax now. For a few moments while the palantir was uncovered, I could have sworn I had heard horrible thumping and wailing sounds, not dissimilar to the war cries the Uruk-Hai had made at Helm's Deep.
"Is Pippin okay?" I managed to squeak out, while Merry wrapped a comforting arm around the younger Hobbit's shoulder and Gandalf tried to hastily extract what Pippin had seen in the depths of the palantir.
Legolas swallowed, wetting his lips with the tip of his tongue anxiously. "He should be, Gandalf should make sure of that." He did not sound very convinced, but I trusted Gandalf, and not to mention Merry, to take care of poor Pippin.
Everyone immediately fell silent as Merry calmed Pippin enough for him to talk without hyperventilating. "A tree… there was a white tree, and… and… a courtyard of stone, the tree was in the courtyard… it was dead!" Pippin's disjointed murmurs could be heard from across the room. "The city, there was a city… behind the tree… it was burning!"
I knew little of such a city, but Gandalf answered the unasked question hanging on my tongue. "Minas Tirith. Is that what you saw Pippin?"
Terrified, Pippin nodded. "I saw… I saw him… I could hear his voice in my head. I didn't answer him, though!" He added quickly, when a grumbling noise slipped through Gandalf's lips. "He asked my name, he asked me of Frodo, I didn't answer… he hurt me."
Pippin's body began to shudder again. Aragorn tossed Merry a blanket, and in an instant Merry had bundled Pippin up snugly in it – though Pippin no longer shook, Merry insisted on keeping a protective arm around his shoulders. It almost looked like Merry was glaring at Gandalf, daring him to interrogate his terrorized friend further.
After staring for a long while, Gandalf straightened his back and brushed off his robes. "There was no lie in Pippin's eyes," the wizard announced to the rest of the room (and to the newly-arrived Théoden, attracted by all the commotion, who was hovering by the entrance with an unreadable expression in his eyes – his features relaxed at this news however, as did the rest of ours). In fact, the whole room breathed an audible sign of relief. "He is a fool, but at least he remains an honest fool. Sauron is still yet to know anything of Frodo and the ring, nor any of their whereabouts."
Gandalf turned and caught eyes with Théoden. They spoke no words, but Théoden nodded and together they departed together to converse in private; to give the rest of us the remains of our well-needed slumber.
Legolas stayed nearby to me, but we did not speak – now that all the excitement was over, I suppose we were back to being annoyed at each other. He was staring into the dark, and I was worried he might be sleeping, but then he blinked – not asleep then. I waited for complete silence, making sure everybody else had dozed off, before speaking up again. "I– I'm sorry."
"Hmm?" Legolas looked up, slightly startled by my sudden murmur. I gather I was not the loudest spoken just now, but did he really not hear me? Or was he just going to make me repeat myself?
Biting my lip, a thin layer of dust on the floor suddenly became interesting and I averted my gaze to it, drawing feeble patterns instead of maintaining eye contact with Legolas. "I said I was sorry. For your cheek." I risked a moment of eye contact to reach up and touch the small mark that marred the otherwise flawless alabaster skin; it would be gone by tomorrow, and Éomer's nose was surely worse, but I still felt guilty. "I slapped you, remember? And I am sorry for that. Please do not make me repeat myself again."
Legolas was silent, but I knew the Elf was smirking – I could tell. "Yes, I think I remember that," he replied, and I was not amused by his attempt at humour – I was trying to be sincere here, and he was doing little to help my cause. "Forgive me, I should be apologising too," he said after sensing my displeasure. "I should not have stormed off earlier, and I certainly should not have assaulted Éomer… and if you really wish it of me, then tomorrow I shall seek him out to apologise formally."
"You would do that?" I could do little to hide my tone of surprise.
"Of course, if it really means that much to you for us to make peace, then yes."
I smiled and found his hand in the dark, tentatively hooking my fingers through the gaps of his own. The heat of his palm travelled up my arm and spread pleasantly throughout my body. "Thank you, Legolas. I will ask the same of him, to be more civil towards you. It does mean a lot if you two would try to get along."
I would have attempted a kiss with him as well (we had not done so since that time after Helm's Deep) but the timing did not feel right – not that I did not want to, of course, in fact I would have liked nothing better, but we had finally made up and I did not want to ruin the blissful serenity.
Instead, with my hand still securely encased within Legolas', I shifted my position to lie down, and was surprised to find Legolas' arms following my own. As I got comfortable on my side, a delightfully warm arm draped loosely over my waist. I wiggled backwards so it would envelope me more, and soon I could feel the heavy weight of his chest pressing against my back, the arms that had previously spent so long training to nock an arrow and fire in half a second, or skewer an Orc in one fell strike with a knife, (and in once case hitting a drunken man) tightening and sheltering me from the cold.
Maybe I was wrong, maybe we were compatible after all.