Chapter Fifty-Three

~ Eldarion ~
My sister and Éomer arrived as one of last groups to show up and report with how many men they had managed to find and recruit for the King. They brought with them a substantial amount of warriors, which helped to excuse their lateness in the King's eyes, but still . . . I knew my mother was still worried over her lateness.

Of course, my mother wasn't around now either; she was busy with Tinúviel preparing everything, so she wasn't around to scold Estel, but my mother had made it clear that Estel was to see her as soon as possible – especially if she was hurt.

I moved swiftly to her side, and when she had dismounted, I hugged her, torn between disapproval and relief.

"~No lectures, Eldarion,~" she warned, seeing the look on my face.

"~You know me too well.~" She glared at me threateningly, and I sighed, restraining my tongue only with difficulty. "~Very well. . . I'm glad you got back safely, though.~"

She hugged me back finally, relaxing somewhat. "~I'm glad to be back. My butt hurts so much. . .~"

"~Riding a lot?~"

"~That's an understatement.~" She glanced around with a frown and then lowered her voice. "~How many do we have, Eldarion? For real. Don't lie to me.~"

I was ready to deliver the causal, "I'm shocked you don't trust me". But one glance at her face told me she was being serious. She wasn't in the mood for teasing – not now, anyways. The seriousness was sinking into her now, as it had when we had prepared for the Battle at Helm's Deep. She was retreating in her warrior mode now, shedding the casual skin of the innocent, light-hearted girl she normally was.

"~With the new regiment you brought in . . .~" I did some quick math. "~That's about six and a half thousand.~"

Her face fell. "~That won't be nearly enough.~"

"~I know. But we can always hope. . . It's more than last time, and they still made it.~"

She sighed. "~True.~"

Sensing someone's gaze on us, I looked up to find Éomer watching us patiently. He didn't understand what we were saying, so I was impressed at how placid and relaxed his expression was. Normally, people got annoyed.

To my surprise, I felt the urge to spirit my sister away on some made-up excuse.

I knew why, though. Just because Estel accepted that Éomer had feelings for her didn't mean I was totally comfortable with it. Especially after Aragorn's talk with me.

Estel glanced at me and then at Éomer and made up an excuse for me. "We're sorry for that, Éomer. And Eldarion – can you take us to the King? And Aragorn?"

I heard the unspoken question in her voice. "~Who else?~"

"~Um . . .~"

"~Ah.~"

Legolas. She wanted to see Legolas. But obviously, saying that in front of Éomer may not go down well, and Legolas pronounced in Elvish wasn't any different than Legolas pronounced in the common language.

Thankfully, Legolas didn't stray too far from Aragorn. This wouldn't be that hard.

"Come with me," I told her.

~ Legolas ~
"The horses are restless, and the men are quiet." The words came from me without effort, without thinking. I knew – I could feel it. Even if my eyes had been closed and my ears stoppered, I would have known. The air here practically screamed the message – if one knew how to read it.

Another presence intruded then, cutting off my connection.

"They grow nervous in the shadow of the mountain," said a voice.

I knew that voice. Éomer.

"That road there," Gimli said, "where does that lead?"

I didn't know who he addressed it to, but I answered anyways. I knew its legends better than Éomer anyways. "It is the road to the Dimholt – the door under the mountain."

I turned to find Éomer right beside us, his face grave as he studied the road. "None who venture there ever return. That mountain is evil," he said shortly. Then he whirled and moved to join Théoden to give his report.

I closed my eyes, trying to get a better feel for the place. I knew the stories, but I had never been here. I wanted to know –

"Legolas?"

I opened my eyes, irritated at being interrupted, but my irritation vanished and was immediately replaced with unease when it registered just who had chosen to interrupt me now. It hadn't been Gimli; he had wandered off somewhere.

It was Estel.

"Estel," I said without thinking.

She didn't look much better than I felt. Her unease was reflected clearly in her blue-gray eyes, an outright sign of her inward feelings. Other than that, the only sign I could detect was her hands – how they were so tightly and securely clasped in front of her, so as to prevent her from nervously using them. But if someone wasn't watching her carefully, as I was, or didn't know her as well, as I did, one would have completely missed those signs.

"You look well," she blurted out.

I suppressed the urge to blink in surprise. "As do you." Once, I would have teased her. Now . . . Now I wasn't sure exactly where I stood with her.

Unfortunately, it looked like she didn't quite know either.

"Legolas, I . . . I want to talk."

"About?"

She took a deep breath. "About our . . . argument."

~ Estel ~
"You look well."

Inwardly, I kicked myself. What a stupid thing to say. . . That does absolutely nothing; it accomplishes absolutely nothing.

Once, Legolas would have teased me for that. But his blue eyes remained clear, and he didn't say anything other than a formal reply. "As do you."

I knew I didn't. I did not look well after nearly three continuous days in the saddle. But I didn't want to waste time on trivial matters like that – and I certainly didn't want to get into an argument over it either. It was time to talk directly to him.

And hopefully, I could gain at least his forgiveness.

"Legolas," I said hesitantly, "I . . . I want to talk."

There was only a flicker in his eyes to indicate his feelings – but I couldn't tell what. Unease? Curiosity? Disgust?

But none were reflected in what he said. "About?"

I took a deep breath, trying to gather my courage. "About our . . . argument." Then I plowed on before he could stop me – before he could walk away. "I . . . You were right. I was wrong to . . . to do that. I shouldn't have let my temper get the better of me. You were only concerned for my welfare, nothing else and I . . . I thank you for that. Actually, I . . . I want to ask for your forgiveness."

As I spoke, I risked a glance upwards.

Pure shock reigned in Legolas's eyes – a clear sign of how surprised he was. Normally, I couldn't usually tell what emotions he was really feeling; he was that good at concealing them from me. But now . . .

I forced myself to say the last, terrible words. "But if you don't want to . . . I'll understand," I concluded miserably. Valar, they even taste bitter. . .

Legolas didn't speak for a long moment, and I stared down at the ground. I couldn't look at him – I couldn't bear to see the look of disdain on his face that I knew he must wear. I was just a young human girl; what use or value was my friendship to him, and older and more experienced immortal Elven prince?

Just when I was about to give up and walk away, a hand landed on my shoulder as gentle fingers lifted my chin.

I flinched as I looked at his clear, impassive gaze.

And then it softened suddenly. "~Then you have it,~" he said quietly. "~And I must ask for yours as well.~"

I blinked as he released my chin. "You . . . You aren't angry?" I demanded incredulously. "After what I said to you, I thought – "

Legolas held up a hand. "~You were not solely at fault. Young you may be and harsh may have been your words – but that gave me no right to respond in kind. If anything, I should have held my tongue and accepted it as it was. So . . . am I forgiven, Estel?~"

"~If you forgive me.~"

He smiled. "~Then let's just put this behind us, shall we?~"

I let him draw me into a gentle embrace, his arms loose enough so that if I chose to pull away I could. But I didn't want to pull away from him. Instead, I let my head rest on my hands, which rested lightly on his chest.

As usual, Legolas's embrace made me feel . . . safe. I felt simply accepted, as I was and whatever I wished to be. There was no pressure to do anything or be anything or act in any special way. Even when my family held me, I had never felt like this. I already perceived some kind of emotion from them – love, respect, expectance. They loved me, but they also wished me to do things – for my own safety, of course. But despite that, sometimes I felt as though their love blinded them to my flaws.

With Legolas, I didn't get that sense. He had been with me long enough to see my strengths and my flaws, and yet he continued to accept me.

Yes, that was the emotion I got from him, especially now as he hugged me. Acceptance. Acceptance of me, exactly as I was. And somehow it meant a great deal more than love in terms of making me feel perfectly fine the way I was.

"Aragorn!"

A half-shout startled us both – I jumped and Legolas half-turned towards the sound.

But there was no need for alarm. It was just Gimli. And his next sentence proved there was no need for alarm at all.

"Let's find some food," he said.

As Aragorn blinked, stunned, after Gimli, I felt Legolas's shoulders shake and I looked at him questioningly. His blue eyes were filled with mirth as he shook his head.

"~Ah, Gimli, Gimli,~" he murmured.

I laughed. "~Ah, there goes Aragorn after him,~" I said. "~I wondered how long it would be before Gimli wanted food.~"

At the mention of food, Legolas's gaze snapped back to me. "~Have you had any?~"

"~Any what?~"

"~Food, of course.~"

"~Of course,~" I said indignantly. "~Éomer wouldn't let me starve. And I know how to feed myself, thank you.~"

He raised an eyebrow at me, but he was smiling, which ruined the effect. "~Indeed? Well, I fear I cannot say the same to you, Estel, in terms of how well you look,~" he teased, furthering ruining his attempt at seriousness.

"~Oh, hush,~" I shot back, but inside I was pleased.

We were back to normal now, if he was willing to tease me like this and allowing me to retort back to him. And thank the Valar for that.

Legolas placed his arm back around my waist. "~Come – you look starved. If we hurry, we can get there before Gimli and actually get some food. If you can still find it in you to keep up with me, of course.~"

I slid to stop. "~Is that a challenge, Thranduilion?~"

"~Of course not, Elessariel,~" he returned smoothly. "~I would never dream of taunting a lady, much less – ~"

I broke from his hold and took off running. "~See you there!~"

After a single stunned second, I heard musical laughter echo behind me as he followed me easily, and to my great surprise, he even let me win.