"Caran Amrún" (Red Sunrise)

Chapter Four

Yomenie Raumo (Coming Storm)

The sun was low in the sky when Legolas again awoke. He still sat against the wall, his hand held by Mary upon her shoulder. Of Gandalf there was no sign, yet Aragorn was sitting now where he had before slept, holding in his hand the Evenstar, which seemed even now to give off its own pure light. Yet when Legolas' eyes found him he looked up.

"Bein n-lí lóre, Legolas?" Fair be your sleep, Legolas? He asked, his voice low and quiet.

The elf nodded. "Elye?" You also?

The ranger nodded. "Ha na-lú." It is time. Rising gracefully to his feet he stepped to Gimli's side, and crouching, gently woke him. The dwarf grunted as he woke, automatically turning, ready to face an enemy, yet he just as quickly quieted when he saw it was Aragorn. Climbing to his feet a huge yawn opened his mouth wide, and he stretched. Then he made to follow Aragorn out of the room, glancing at the elf as he passed.

"How does she fare?" he whispered, pausing a moment.

A touch of a smile lit his blue eyes. "She has seen much, but her heart is strong."

Gimli nodded. Then his serious eyes turned to the fair face. "And what of you?"

For a moment Legolas did not answer. A shadow touched him, but it was not a shadow of darkness, only of quiet sorrow. "Much has been lost." He admitted. "And my heart grieves. Yet it only serves to urge me all the more to battle against this evil and cut off its hold on the land."

Gimli nodded. "Aye." He glanced down at the sleeping maiden, who's shoulder Legolas still held. Then he looked up. "I shall meet you without, then?"

Legolas nodded. Picking up his ax from where it rested against the wall, Gimli left.

He did not wish to move, sitting there in the silence, his hand upon the warm shoulder. Yet he knew he must. Slowly he rose from the bed to his feet, and then he knelt beside it, and reaching out gently tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear.

"Namárië, meld er." Farewell, dear one. He whispered.

She stirred, turning her face into his hand. Then her eyes opened and looked at him, still blurred with sleep. "Legolas."

"Ha na-lú. Im glenn-an hi. Mín nor-na Isengard." It is time. I go for now. We ride to Isengard.

She blinked, sleep pulling at her. She whispered. "N-tir-pant-o i galadhad. Hain iste-le." Be watchful of the trees. They know you.

Later Legolas sat upon the back of Arod, with Gimli behind, and they approached the trees. At first no one would enter the forest, looming dark and menacing before them, yet Gandalf continued on without hesitation. As the company of men followed they found, to their amazement, that there was already a path prepared for them– a great archway that led into the forest, the trees rising up on either side of the road like tall sentinels, watchful and silent. Legolas looked on either side, his eyes taking in everything around him. Mary's words came back to him, and he wondered that she could even know the thoughts of trees.

Riding close to Gandalf, as Gimli was afraid of the trees, Legolas continued to eye the forest. "It is hot in here." He said, his words directed to Gandalf. "I feel a great wrath about me. Do you not feel the air throb in your ears?"

"Yes."

"What has become of the miserable orcs?"

"That," Gandalf said. "I think, no one will ever know."

In silence they continued through the forest, and Legolas was sorry when Gandalf forbade him to return when he saw eyes within the trees. Then he and all the company saw ents, great ents walking out and sounding loud calls that carried far, and which were answered.

They found Saruman locked in his tower of Orthanc, with naught but Grima Wormtongue as a companion. All around the area was flooded, great waters washing away the filth and corruption. Gandalf spoke with the great ent Treebeard, and while he did Aragorn, Legolas, and Gimli were happily reunited with their little friends, Merry and Pippin, who had a grand tale to tell. So they passed the time, until at last Gandalf returned. Then all went to the tower, and stood outside, and spoke with Saruman. The wizard had lost all but the power of his voice, and he tried to sway those present to his own side. Yet it was in vain. As they made to leave something was thrown from the tower, a great dark orb, which Pippin retrieved and looked at curiously. Gandalf quickly took it from him, and wrapped it in his robes.

"I will take care of this." He said. "It is not a thing, I guess, that Saruman would have chosen to cast away."

Gimli stirred. "But he may have other things to cast. If that is the end of the debate, let us go out of stone's throw, at least!"

Gandalf nodded. "It is the end. Let us go."

So they took their leave of Treebeard and the ents, and they traveled on until the sun sank low and then disappeared altogether, and the night stretched on. At long last they stopped for rest, and made camp, and slept. Yet a terrible cry awoke them when their dreams had only just begun to rise from the mist and take form in their mind. It was Pippin. Gandalf was angry, for the hobbit had taken the orb and looked into it, and shown himself to Sauron– for the orb was one of the last remaining Seeing Stones, a Palantir.

When it became clear that Pippin had told Sauron nothing in his vision, Gandalf was much relieved, yet still anxious. For now the Dark Lord would believe that Saruman had caught the ring-bearer, and he would send his servants to Isengard with all haste. So Gandalf left on Shadowfax, with Pippin riding before him, to go to the white city of Minas Tirith.

"Farewell! Follow fast!" Gandalf called to them. "Away, Shadowfax!"

Now the rest of the company traveled back to Helms Deep. There they would rest for a night, and then away the next day, for Théoden to gather a great host of men that they might go with him to Minas Tirith.

As they rode Legolas kept his gaze firmly forward, yet unfocused, trusting Arod to follow Aragorn and the king. Gimli sat behind, and every once in a while would give a heavy sigh and shift. Finally the dwarf could be silent no longer. "Something troubles you, master elf, or I am a hobbit's mother."

Legolas did not turn. "You are mistaken, master dwarf. I am not troubled at all."

"Indeed! You are as tense and rigid as the Argonath. More, even. A dwarf I may be, and used to digging in the dirt, but I am not blind."

Legolas frowned, a nonexistent retort dying on his tongue. "A shadow darkens my heart." He admitted.

The dwarf twisted behind him. "What?! Is a nazgul on our tail?"

"No, Gimli, it is no enemy that clouds my mind so."

For a moment there was silence. "Ah!" Gimli's voice dropped, its tone suddenly understanding. "The fair lady Mary. Why does she trouble you?"

Legolas opened his mouth to speak, but paused. "I fear for her." He said finally. "War and death the like of which we have not yet seen looms on the horizon, and the hand of Sauron reaches out to sweep us all into his grasp. What will become of her? Will she be caught by the darkness? Will she fade into the night? Will she stay with the people of Rohan?"

Gimli's voice was low. "It seems to me that her nature will cause her to go with us, even to the end."

"It is that thought that worries me the most."

Gimli eyed the elf curiously.

"She is competent with the sword, to be sure, but I fear her falling in battle, cut down by some crude sword of an orc! Or worse yet, to be torn to pieces by a troll or one of their beasts, a warg!"

Gimli made a rumbling sound of understanding. "I would not worry so." He finally said. "It would seem her path is blessed, to live when others die, to offer hope and comfort where others see only despair and ruin. Trust to hope, master elf. It has not abandoned us thus far."

Legolas remained silent, yet he clung to Gimli's words as to a lifeline. He thought back to the time spent with her, of her hands in his hair, of her imperfect yet gentle voice singing, and he hoped that he would see her again at the end of all things, and that this final ride to Helms Deep was not to bid a final farewell to the strange and fair lady.

"You are right, Gimli." He whispered. "Hope has not yet abandoned us. Let us pray that it graces us a while longer."

Mary stood before the gate, waiting nervously. She knew they would return in haste, and leave just as quickly the next day. She knew that, on the way back, Aragorn would have been met by thirty of his kinsman– the Dunedain– and that he would spend the whole night consulting with them.

A moment later the horses thundered past, weary and grim men passing her in a river. Aragorn and Théoden rode at the head, with the Dunedain directly behind, and Legolas and Gimli following. The elf caught her eye as he passed on his white horse, and a small smile graced his tense features, and she smiled back. Yet she couldn't help but notice the tightness of his eyes, and the faint line between his brows.

Following the line of riders, she entered the Keep, and found Legolas and Gimli watching on as Aragorn and the Dunedain took their leave of Théoden and retired to a secluded tower room. As she approached, the elf and the dwarf turned.

"Lady Mary!" Gimli rumbled. He took her hand and kissed it gently, his beard tickling her skin. "I trust you are well?"

"I am much better than I was." Mary said, nodding.

She felt a hard gaze burning into her, and she looked up into the intense, blue eyes of the elf. Gimli glanced at the two of them, then cleared his throat. "I take my leave for the time being." He said. "I wish to rest, and possibly find some good ale to wet my throat."

After he had gone, Legolas and Mary stood, gazing at one another. "Are you well?" Mary finally asked.

Legolas inclined his head. "And you?" he asked.

Mary shook her head, shrugging. "Good, I guess."

Legolas eyed her, noting the shadow of her eyes and the lines of care still upon her face. "Are you sure?"

Her smile faltered, and she swallowed. "As well as can be expected."

He nodded. "It is so with me." One eye squinted at her. "You know what has happened?"

Mary nodded, her arms folding as a gust of cold wind blew in through the open door. "I do. Don't look so worried, Legolas." She chastised. A gleam entered her eye. "If you keep frowning, your face will freeze that way."

He blinked, his eyes widening, then he laughed, and shook his head. "Where did you learn this?"

"My mother." Mary said, raising her chin.

"I thought…" his voice trailed off.

The corner of her mouth twitched. "Yes, but all mothers tell their kids that, so it stands to reason that mine would have told me."

"Have you seen it happen?"

"Oh yes." Mary nodded seriously. "Not so much in my world," she said, moving to walk with him, their feet stepping in sync. "But here I have seen it a lot."

"Indeed? Where?"

"Everywhere. You ever see these horribly ugly things? Their faces all twisted and their teeth rotting? They didn't listen to their mothers, and look where it got them!"

Legolas laughed, his clear voice echoing in the halls. "I had always wondered where the orcs came from."

"Well there, then! That's one mystery solved."

Later that night there was a good meal, and singing, and dancing, and storytelling. Théoden knew that it would possibly be the last chance for many men to celebrate, so he grabbed at the opportunity, and enjoyed many hours of conversation with Merry.

Legolas sat apart from the festivities against the wall, Gimli at his side holding a large mug of ale. The elf watched all with a quiet gaze. He found Mary soon enough, sitting alone at a table. She smiled and laughed when others spoke with her, but when she was left alone a darkness would enter her gaze, and a great sadness veiled her face, and Legolas felt a pain in his chest. She had seen much he wished he could have spared her, and he knew that the burden of knowing what would happen was not a light one.

Eventually Aragorn came down, his face drawn and weary. He made his way to Legolas' side and sat down, his grey eyes troubled.

"What news?"

Aragorn glanced at him. "Much." He said under his breath. "I would think on it a while, then speak with my kin again, before revealing anything. It is a great weight."

"If I can help in any way…"

Aragorn smiled. "I know, mellon nin." He turned as Gimli gave a roaring laugh at Merry's antics, as the hobbit now danced and sang a song of the Shire, surrounded by a circle of men. Then he found the dark haired lady at the table. "The lady Mary looks bent with sorrow and some unhappiness."

Legolas nodded. "She gives hope to us all, yet keeps none for herself."

Suddenly the room became silent. All eyes turned to the front, searching for a reason for the silence.

Théoden looked up from where he was sitting in his throne. "Perhaps the lady Mary would sing." He said. "Sing us a song of her world."

All eyes turned to where she sat, close to the table where Merry danced. She looked around, her cheeks quickly coloring. "I– I can't sing." She stammered.

"None of us can," Éomer laughed, gesturing to the circle of men that had, a moment ago, been belting out a song. There were scattered chuckles.

She bit her lip, her face growing redder. "I really– I don't know any songs that you would– that would please you."

"I don't know any, either!" Merry announced with a grin. "But I'm singing anyway!"

The men and women laughed. Mary still looked unsure, catching the hobbit's eye.

"Please sing." Merry said, looking at her quietly.

For a moment there was silence. Mary glanced at Legolas and Aragorn and Gimli, seeking confirmation. Aragorn nodded with a full smile, while Gimli raised his tankard of ale, nodding enthusiastically, but it was Legolas' reassuring, confident gaze that gave her the courage to finally rise to her feet. Stepping over to where the musicians had left their instruments, she lifted the fiddle and bow from its place, and returned to her place by the table. Setting it to her chin, her fingers stretching instinctively to find their places on the strings, she lifted the bow in her other hand. "I can't sing as well as you," she said. "But I can play some songs." With that she set the bow to the strings, drawing it across in a fluid motion, and a beautiful, aching sound filled the hall– like the call of a strange bird. The song was strong, not slow yet not fast, its notes rising and falling and skipping and then holding out for an impossibly long, drawn out moment, dissolving to a faint echo. Then it would start up again, dancing around them with light falls and steps, weaving amongst them like a faery in spring.

As the last note hung in the air everyone was still, letting the silence lay the note to rest. Then there was applause, many of the men nodding in approval. Merry cheered, raising his mug high.

Aragorn clapped, then he turned to Legolas. "I must return to my brethren." he said, standing relunctantly. "We still have much to discuss."

Legolas nodded. "Be sure to rest, Aragorn." he said. "Tomorrow we ride."

"Indeed." Aragorn's gaze grew dark. "Tomorrow we ride." Nodding to Gimli, he turned and left.

As people got up Mary started another song, this one fast and light, setting their feet to dancing and their voices to laughter. On through the night the celebration lasted, and Mary played all the long hours. Watching from where they sat, Legolas leaned back, his legs stretched and crossed before him. He saw the movement of her body follow the motions of the bow against the strings, swaying back and forth, how at times her eyes closed, letting herself be drawn into the music, losing herself and wrapping herself in its melody, and how at other times her eyes opened and seemed to dance with the high spirited notes, her cheeks flushing and her mouth lighting with a smile. The tension and weariness and sorrow that had hung upon her melted away, laid to rest by the act of playing upon the fiddle– though it could hardly be called that, as she drew sound from it that was more beautiful than simple fiddle-playing.

"It is well that she plays," Legolas murmured. "For it grieved me to see her shadowed with sorrow."

"Indeed." Gimli agreed, his voice soft for once.

"Bein beth a cal lalaith n-hen ant a eruanna." Legolas stated quietly, his fair blue eyes never blinking as they watched her. Fair words and light laughter be her gift and grace.

Gimli nodded, then lifted his tankard of ale to his lips. "May her hope guide us all," he said. Then he glanced at Legolas. "And may she keep yours burning bright."

The End… of this tale.

Please watch the horizon for the final end of this story in "Red Sunset," soon to come.