Chapter Thirty-Nine

~ Éomer~
"Excuse me, but do you know where the Lady Elena is?"

The servant looked completely confused when I mentioned the name. "Who, my lord?"

"The Lady Elena."

"I don't know any lady of that name," the servant said. "And certainly no lady with that name in the healers halls."

I frowned. I knew she was here; I had just seen her this morning. . . Maybe she had left or something? "Has anyone left Helm's Deep?"

"No, sir."

"Then the Lady Elena must be here," I insisted. "I just saw her not a few hours ago."

"You are looking for the Lady Elena?" came a voice.

I turned. It was the one Aragorn had brought with him, a young man clad in the Ranger fashion and carrying the weapons of the Elves. He stood still as he surveyed me, pale blue eyes framed by dark brown locks.

"Yes, I am," I said finally, when it became clear he wasn't going to speak further.

"Why, may I ask?"

"I would like to speak with her."

He locked eyes with me, and it sent a shock coursing down my spine. There was now no doubt in my mind that he was a Ranger; young, but skilled in the arts of war. He was simply too . . . unnatural. He couldn't pass for a full-blooded Man when I was looking at him like this. His movements spoke too much of long training – and grace beyond that of any normal mortal.

"I see," he said quietly. "I will take you to her, then."

I followed him as he turned and strode away. It was obvious that he knew more than he was letting on, and I wondered how much I could push him.

"What is your name, Ranger?"

"Eldarion," he replied.

"An Elvish name," I remarked carefully.

He cast me a sideways look. "Of course. Every Ranger frequents the cities of the Eldar as well as the cities of Men. And with our heritage, we also take Elvish names."

"I see." I really didn't, but what else could I say? He and I were as different as night and day as possible. Comparing him to me was like trying to compare night to day; we were just too . . . different, in every way possible.

"Estel is my sister," he continued.

I blinked. "I'm sorry; who?"

He slowed. "Ah, my apologies." He turned to face me. "Elena is the name my sister uses when she encounters strangers and wishes to protect herself. Surely you understand that?" When I nodded, he explained, "Estel is her real name. So, next time you wish to find her, ask for Lady Estel, not Lady Elena. I can guarantee that you'll find her a lot quicker next time," he finished with a smile.

Then he gestured to the hall. "Here. Just go through this door, and you'll find her. Good day, Lord Éomer."

And then he was gone, just as suddenly and as quietly as he had appeared.

Shaking my head, I walked through the door – and sure enough Ele-uh, Estel was there. I have to get used to her real name, I thought. And the fact that her little trick totally took me in. . .

" . . . down and sleep," she was saying gently to the man. "Some water, and maybe some bread, but that's it; unless you fancy cleaning up whatever comes right back up. You'll be fine; just give it a couple more days."

"Yes, my lady," the man replied. "And thank you." Then he caught sight of me. "Lord Éomer, what brings you here?"

Estel turned, a smile on her face. "Ah, good afternoon, Lord Éomer. Give me a moment, will you? I need to some more check-ups and clean up a bit, and then I'll be with you."

"Of course, my lady."

I had barely counted to twenty before she reappeared.

"Now, did you need to see me?" she inquired.

For a long moment, I couldn't think of anything to say. Then I said slowly, "I met your brother."

"Indeed? And what did you discuss with him?"

I shifted. "Why didn't you tell me your real name when we met?" I asked, changing the topic.

"Ah. . . I see." She sighed. "A name is a sacred thing among my people. It is a sign a trust when given, and not something just given out easily. It is something that defines us, that makes us who we are – not just a random combination of letters and sounds. And I am a woman; telling the whole world who I am is not quite the best idea."

"I am sorry, I just . . ." I rubbed my forehead. "I can't really get my thoughts together." I cast about for another topic that was less offensive and more casual. "I didn't realize Eldarion was your brother."

She smiled. "I know. It's a rare person who can look at us and see that we are related. . . And it's even rarer for a person who cannot to admit that."

"So I'm one of those 'rare' people?"

"Yes."

"I have heard that you participated in the battle," I commented neutrally.

"Yes." She made a face. "Unfortunately."

"You don't like war."

"No," she said flatly. "And I don't think anyone should want for battle either. Enough people die at a young age naturally; why should anyone seek to hasten that?"

"I didn't know you could fight."
Estel shrugged. "Everyone learns at least self-defense in the camps of the Dúnedain; battle is just one step above. And Lord Aragorn took great care that we were educated thoroughly. Even though wielding a sword is something I haven't done in many years, I still can."

"But you put most of your faith in your Elvish weapons?" I noted, nodding at the bow and quiver on her back.

Another small smile played on her lips. "You are very observant. . . But, yes, I do."

I surveyed her as silence fell again. She was young, fair, and educated in battle. What a strange young woman, even out of the rumored Rangers. And she had the skills of a healer as well. A very strange woman. . . But at she's open and friendly, and on our side. I would hate to have to fight against her.

"You're very strange," I remarked suddenly.

Estel laughed at my words – but not unkindly. "So I've heard." She smiled at me again. "I need to get back to my work, I fear."

I inclined my head. "Then, my lady, it would be an honor to speak with you again – when you have some spare time, of course," I added hastily. "I do not wish to distract you from the work you have done for us."

Her eyes sparkled. "It will be a pleasure, my lord. And – "

Someone called her name, making me start. I hadn't heard anyone coming up behind me.

And then the Elf was there beside her, blue eyes alight. He spoke quickly to her, his tone conveying that something exciting had happened even though I couldn't get even the faintest gist of what he was saying. But whatever it was, Estel's eyes lit up as well, so I guessed it was something very good as well as exciting.

"Yes, yes, coming," she said to him. "I'm sorry, my lord, but – "

"Go," I said, half laughing. "You can tell me later."

~ Legolas ~
Halfway to Haldir's room, when I judged that we were alone and no one was in earshot or eye range, I stopped abruptly. Then I grabbed Estel's arm, stopping her as well. She whirled around, startled by our sudden stop.

"~What is it?~" she asked, surprised.

"~Estel . . .~" I hesitated. How was I supposed to tell her this without sounding . . . condescending? I didn't want to offend her or cause anymore damage to her self-esteem, but she needed to know what I had to tell. Now, of course, the question was – how did I word it?

"~Legolas,~" she said, her tone amused, "~telling me might be a good idea.~"

I relaxed slightly. "~Estel, you know no one blames you for leaving.~" Might as well get it out there.

Her expression became strained and she half turned. "~It was weak of me.~"

"~No, it wasn't. We all know you suffered greatly. No one blames you for it, or thinks you the weaker for it. You didn't have a choice.~"

"~We always have a choice.~"

I gripped her shoulder gently and turned her around. "~Estel, listen to me,~" I said fiercely in a low voice. I locked eyes with her, wanting her to understand that I spoke the truth. "~No one blames you. No one thinks you were weak. Do you hear me? No one. If there is anyone foolish enough to blame you or think you weak, then they are the weak ones – and they are sadistic beyond belief in thinking that.~"

"~But, Legolas,~" she tried.

"~No, Estel.~"

"~Legolas, you don't understand!~" She pulled away from my grip and moved to the window, clenching the windowsill so tight I feared it would crack. She was right next to me, but at the same time it seemed that she was far away.

I turned. "~Why don't I?~" I asked softly.

"~Every night, they . . . came for me.~" Her words seemed wrenched out of her, from the darkest, deepest, surreptitious part of her. "~Every night. And after a while I just stopped fighting. I just . . . couldn't fight anymore. I just let them do whatever they wanted. I didn't even fight.~" She laughed bitterly. "~After all that time, they got what they wanted. They broke me, and I couldn't even raise a finger in my own defense.~"

I reached out and tentatively put my hand on her shoulder. "~They didn't break you.~"

"~If they didn't break me, I would have fought back against them. And – And I should have. I should have. . .~"

Her shoulders were already shaking at that point, and I could see tears glittering on her cheeks. Inwardly, I marveled at how deeply she had buried these feelings. Outwardly, I raged at those who had caused these feelings in her – to attempt to break a girl who meant no harm, simply because her background and beliefs.

Carefully, I reached out and pulled her close to me. Elves weren't prone to emotional outbursts and we avoided expressive displays, but after travelling with Estel for this long, I was sort of used to it. Her blood had a great deal of Elvish influence, but her human blood showed as well sometimes. She was as expressive as she was quiet, plain as she was beautiful, simple as she was convoluted. But one thing was for sure – she tended to bury her own feelings down deep.

This particular thought of hers was wrong, of course. I guessed that she only thought it because of the abuse she had gone through. No Elf or Dúnadan would have said the things she was repeating.

"~Estel,~" I said quietly. "~These thoughts ill become you. It was not your fault, nor will it ever be, that they forced themselves on you. If we truly thought you weak, don't you think you could tell?~"

"~You're hard to read,~" she said quietly, still trembling against my side.

"~Estel . . . You know my kindred isn't one to express things lightly, even among friends.~"

"~I know.~"

I hugged her gently. "~Estel, listen to me. No one thinks you are weak, and no one blames you. Especially not me. The only people I blame are the ones who did this to you, and Valar forbid I ever meet them.~"

"~I hope you are joking,~" she said uneasily.

I sighed. "~I'm not, but . . . Never mind.~" Gently, I brushed my fingers under her eyes, wiping away her tears. "~Do you hear me, Estel?~"

"~I hear you.~"

I tentatively stroked her long hair. It was soft, despite the tangles – as Estel hadn't probably had the time or the inclination to fuss about her hair – and if I hadn't know who it was I held, I could have sworn the hair belonged to one of my own kindred.

When she finally stilled, her head still pressed against my collarbone, I spoke.

"~Are you all right?~"

"~Yes. I think.~"

I drew back reluctantly, releasing her. Estel looked better and calmer, but now that I had glimpsed the hurting side of her, I got the feeling I would never be able to look at her and see just the strong, impassive mask that she wore. Not anymore.

I took her hand. "~Come on; let's go, shall we?~"

~ Estel ~
To say that Legolas's actions surprised me was an understatement. To be honest, they flat out astonished me.

After all, Legolas and I were different, separate. We had barely gotten used to casual contact, much less the intimacy of close friends. And yet he had still seen past my deception, found the right words, and then had comforted me, instead of keeping his distance as most Elves would when confronted with over-emotional displays.

That, of course, only made me ever more grateful.

When we entered Haldir's room, I saw that Eldarion and Aragorn were already there. Eldarion was speaking to Haldir rapidly, as if trying to spill out every single thing that had happened since he had left Lothlórien. Aragorn simply looked relieved that Haldir had survived – and amused by Eldarion's actions as he continued to speak as quickly as he possibly could.

Haldir looked up then, and he smiled. "~Legolas, Estel – greetings.~"

Legolas smiled back and, stepping forward, made the traditional gesture of greeting while I looked round the room.

"~Where's my sister?~"

Eldarion shrugged. "~Coming. Eventually.~" Then he returned to talking.

I moved to stand beside Aragorn. "~How is he?~" I asked in a low voice, nodding at Haldir.

"~Better. Much better. He'll survive – thanks to you,~" Aragorn added seriously, clasping my hand with a smile.

"~I did what I could.~"

"~Which was a great deal more of a gift than you think,~" Legolas said from behind me, smiling down at me.

For some reason, his smile made me blush and look down.

"~Yes, I know I'm late, brother,~" my sister said tartly as she entered the room. "~So be quiet, will you?~"

"~The both of you, calm down,~" my mother ordered as she followed.

"~Yes, Mother,~" they said simultaneously. Then of course, they made faces at each other with subtle sideways glances.

Legolas chuckled under his breath, putting his hand on my shoulder. "~Siblings,~" he said wistfully with an amused shake of his head.

I looked at him. "~Do you have any?~"

"~No.~"

I was about to ask more when Haldir suddenly sat bolt upright, startling us all and causing no small measure of concern to all of us. His eyes, larger than I'd ever seen on an Elf, were focused on my sister.

"She's your mother?" he spluttered, so astonished that he spoke in the common language. "And that's your sister? But – But how is that possible? I thought you said your mother was dead!"

Oh, Valar help us, I prayed. We are in so much trouble. . .