The War of Light and Shadow

By Freddie23

OIOIOIOI

Disclaimer: I own nothing Tolkien created.

A/N: A big thank you to everyone who has read and reviewed! Enjoy chapter 25.

OIOIOIOIOIOI

Chapter 25 – Rangers of the North

Two Months Later…

Legolas looked thoughtfully out over the immense flat plains visible to him that made up most of Eriador. There was depressingly little out there to see but vast oceans of dried, cracked mud and the odd dead remnant of some unfortunate tree that had long ago perished in the dry, inhospitable lands. But since their battle with the Orcs two months previous and the very real possibility that the armies of Shadow would soon be hot on their tails once more, he wasn't going to take any chances by dropping his vigilance.

After fleeing the woods as fast as their feet could carry them for fear of further Orc patrols and attacks, they had run for another two days straight before finally conceding that they must allow their shattered bodies some respite from the extended exertion. Once they had both seen to their battle wounds they'd fallen into exhausted sleep and taken some time to regain some of their much depleted strength. After that brief respite they had gotten back on track searching the lands constantly for the elusive Rangers of the North in the continued vain hope that they might possibly remain protectors of this broken, dead land.

Two seemingly endless months of terror-filled days and nights had followed. Their search continued to this very day to be frustratingly fruitless. At long last, Legolas had consented to putting a stop to their quest for more than a few hours. Both were thoroughly worn out and needed time to regain their strength before going on any further. At such a pace as Legolas had been setting, one or both of them would have been dead by the time they found the Rangers. Aragorn had argued that it could not continue and Legolas had been forced to agree with rationality over desire.

So, for three days now they had been camped atop Amon Sul, the great ancient watchtower of Men. Aragorn had been thoroughly overwhelmed by its sheer size in the beginning. Built atop an impressively high hill, it overlooked the great plains so the travellers could see for leagues in all directions when it was clear even though this land was void of anything interesting.

Crumbled and ruined though it was after years of desertion, Aragorn was fascinated by the simple but strong structure of Amon Sul. It had, after all, been built by his ancestors. Legolas had not been able to answer the majority of the boy's seemingly endless questions about the place, knowing relatively little about this region himself. Pretty much all he could recall from various readings during his childhood of long and boring history lessons was of Amon Sul's famous throne, which legend claimed gave the sitter eyesight beyond Human or even Elven capability. Upon telling Aragorn of this legend, the man had insisted that it was at least worth trying, so on their second day of resting there, they'd walked all the way to the pinnacle to sit upon the throne of the enlightened. It had proven rather a disappointment, as nothing more had been visible to either traveller other than that which the naked eye could make out over the continually mist-shrouded plains. Dismissing the legends as false, they'd contented with using the watchtower merely as a shelter from them and Aragorn had spoken no more on the matter, as if it was a personal affront that the legends had proven false.

Dawn had only just risen over Amon Sul as Legolas stood on a low stone wall on the edge of the crumbling ruins. It was typically quiet but for the eerie rumbling from the far Eastern realm, although Legolas expected nothing more.

The thick, damp air around him was chilly and he shivered slightly. This involuntary action was followed by an equally unintentional hiss of pain that slipped through his clenched teeth. Gingerly, he cradled his left arm, waiting for the throbbing to subside before he drew his next breath.

The wound that he had received two months previously still stubbornly refused to heal properly. As far as he could tell, the deep gash had at some point become infected; the result of a filthy Orc blade and no real herbs to counter infection. Fortunately it had not yet brought with it any life-endangering symptoms, just this deep throbbing pain that would not abate. Surely, after all these years with that biting agony wedged inside his chest he could stand an aching shoulder. Still, it bothered him only because it hampered his fighting ability somewhat.

With a careful sigh, Legolas turned away from observing the empty barren lands that surrounded Amon Sul, and walked back around the ruins to the most sheltered part of the hill where Aragorn lay sleeping huddled beneath their blanket. Legolas had sensibly insisted that whilst there was still the risk of Orc patrols discovering them at least one of them be on lookout at all times.

Usually, Legolas took the watch at night then slept for a few hours in the morning whilst Aragorn took over. The rest of their time was spent strategizing, trying to work out what they were going to do next. Unfortunately, they did not get much further than any other time they'd talked it over. All they could do was continue their search for the Rangers. For both though, it felt very much as it had done when they'd been walking the Old Forest Road years ago: like they were getting nowhere.

Legolas did not wake the young man right away, instead leaving him to sleep whilst he himself watched the mists slowly begin to clear. The skies above remained cloudy grey and he felt the claustrophobic weight of the savaged world pressing heavily down on him, threatening to suffocate him if he thought on it too long and he shuddered again in the chill of the dawn.

"Are you alright?" Aragorn's quiet voice broke the unnatural hush, making Legolas startle.

He looked down at the young man, who was now propped up on one elbow, watching him with worried grey eyes. The man always looked worried these days; Legolas didn't like to think that he was adding to his concern unnecessarily. And yet he knew that he unintentionally ended up doing just that most of the time.

So he smiled thinly and answered, "Of course I'm alright."

Aragorn nodded, adding his own small smile, equally as fake as his guardian's. "How's your shoulder?"

"Getting better at last, I think."

This was a blatant lie and Aragorn knew it. He'd been worried that the Elf's wound refused to heal even after months, and although Legolas continually assured him that it was all fine and it would just take some time to get better again, he could see that the stab wound caused his guardian considerable discomfort even in the simplest of movements.

However, as ever, he went along with the lie to save a lengthy argument and incurring his guardian's bad mood, nodding gently in understanding. Climbing up off the ground, Aragorn stretched his arms above his head, looking to the dark skies overhead.

"I hope it isn't going to rain," he said, changing the direction of the conversation to a more neutral and thus safer topic.

"Hm," Legolas agreed vaguely, reluctantly following the man's gaze skywards. "We have good enough shelter here if it does."

Aragorn looked around himself and sighed. "This place is just so bleak."

Legolas couldn't help but scoff at this observation. "Everywhere on this earth is bleak now. Why should this monument be any different?" He too got to his feet, noticeably more carefully than his companion. "It is sad though, a great pity; once this place was probably truly majestic."

"Maybe one day it will be again."

"Maybe." For a moment, the Elf seemed to drift away into thought, his eyes glazing over, unseeing. Aragorn watched him discreetly. He didn't like it when Legolas became introspective, even though he should have been more than used to it by now, it was hardly a rare occurrence, it never had been as a matter of fact. It was not long this time before Legolas surfaced from wherever he had been in his mind and he smiled once again at Aragorn. "Now it is your turn to watch, if you are rested enough."

"Yes. You should sleep; gather your strength before you move on."

Legolas openly laughed at this, making Aragorn blush slightly at his boldness in speaking to his lordly guardian. "As you command, so shall I obey."

Carefully, the prince laid down and dragged the blanket over himself. He trusted Aragorn enough not to worry for his own safety as he slept. The boy would keep his watch just as he swore he would do, just as he had done for the past two mornings now. So, Legolas closed his eyes, tried to relax his tense, aching body and waited for sleep to claim him.

OIOI

A faraway sound made Aragorn shift uncomfortably against the rock he was leaning on. It sounded like footsteps, distant footsteps. Turning his head wearily to one side and not bothering to open his eyes, Aragorn decided that it must just have been Legolas doing one of his regular patrols around the ruins to ensure their security. He sighed to himself and tried to fall back to sleep. Except now that he was disturbed he couldn't quite return to his previous state of peace and he couldn't, try as he might, figure out why - not as he was anyway. To figure out the source of his disquiet he would have to open his eyes. But it was still daytime, he realised instinctively. He surely shouldn't be sleeping during the daylight hours. That was what was wrong. He should be taking his turn to watch.

Aragorn's eyes snapped open at this revelation to discover that it was indeed still daylight out. And the footsteps were getting closer, Aragorn heard. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw a flash of gold and his head snapped around to see that Legolas remained, as he should be, asleep beneath their shared blanket. And yet the footsteps persisted.

He sat up straight in panic, eyes finally fully focusing on the world around him, although he could see nothing out of place in the vicinity, no obvious intruders on the ruins. The footsteps continued to sound though – surely that could only be bad news. Aragorn leapt to his feet, almost tripping in his haste. All his weapons were in the bag, which was resting near to the sleeping Elf where he'd left it earlier in the morning.

"Legolas," Aragorn hissed urgently as he fell to his knees in order to open their bags and retrieve, not Anduril, but his more modest stolen sword just in case they needed to defend their camp from intruders.

Of course, Legolas was up instantly at the sound of his ward's urgent exclamation of his name. "What?" he demanded quietly, his blue eyes already taking in the ruins of Amon Sul around him for the threat he suspected to be present. Then he too heard what had disturbed Aragorn and he snatched up his twin blades that rested on the stone by his side, leaping to his feet in one smooth, well-practiced movement. "Who?" he whispered, looking to Aragorn for answers.

The boy shook his head, already breathing hard in anticipation of what might come. "I don't know." He felt Legolas' piercing gaze settle on him and he couldn't stand up to it, as he had never been able to. He had to be honest. "I fell asleep," he confessed guiltily, eyes flickering briefly over to his guardian for the reaction.

Legolas said nothing but Aragorn could feel his anger nonetheless. At that moment though, they had more important things to think about, such as the possibly dangerous invaders now ascending the hilltop.

They moved forwards slowly towards the sounds of approaching footsteps, weapons clutched and ready to engage any enemy that might appear around the ruins. The footsteps heading in their direction showed no such caution, however, as they progressed steadily up the grassy hill towards the pair. Legolas could tell from their smoothness and weight that they were not Orc feet; they sounded more like Human feet. But that did not allay any of his fears. Men could be just as dangerous and this was their domain he and Aragorn were intruding on.

As they drew closer, Legolas suddenly grabbed Aragorn by the sleeve and pulled him down to crouch and hide behind a crumbling pillar so they could not be seen. He peered over the top just as the first of the enemy came to the top of the hill. Not Orcs but, as he had suspected, Men. A band of around twenty Men appeared in a disorganised huddle, laughing and shoving each other good-naturedly as they walked. All carried weapons on their belts although none of them were drawn so they clearly did not expect company on Weathertop and were not on alert for it. It was odd, Legolas considered, that these Men showed so little concern for the strict procedures any sensible person would enforce in this dangerous land; they didn't even seem to have a scout. Foolish, indeed.

It took the Men mere minutes to settle themselves amongst the crumbling ruins of Amon Sul, throwing down the heavy packs they carried and sprawling on the hard ground as if it were a feather-filled mattress they reclined on and not cold stone.

Only their leader remained standing, glancing around the place with sharp eyes. He turned to his fellow men with a stern expression upon his weathered face, although it softened somewhat when he addressed them.

"Secure the camp and start a fire," the tall man ordered shortly. There were groans of objection and disapproval amongst the other Men, followed by a bustling argument over who was going to do the chores this time. None seemed particularly willing, each recommending the other for the task. "Now," the leader demanded with a humorous roll of his eyes at their disobedience.

The Men got to their feet with exaggerated effort and set about removing wood from their packs – another oddity, Legolas observed – and started to build up a fire. More worryingly, they also seemed to now be deciding who would scout the ruins – too late, perhaps, but it could still mean trouble for Aragorn and Legolas who remained effectively hidden.

As the men split up and began their search for possible threats amongst the ancient ruins of Amon Sul, Aragorn tugged urgently on Legolas' sleeve and breathed, "Let's go." When the Elf didn't comply, he urged again, "Legolas, come on."

"Just wait a moment," the Elf answered in a whisper, laying his hand calmingly on Aragorn's arm to prevent him from moving away as he clearly wished to do.

"What?" the young man asked in increasing confusion.

"Look," Legolas said simply, nodding vaguely in the direction of the apparent leader of the group of Men, who was now overseeing his men in their assigned duties.

"At what?" Aragorn hissed in annoyance. His last experience of strange Men had not exactly been a good one and he had no wish to repeat it, and he didn't understand why Legolas was now lingering amidst the danger. However, he followed the Elf's steady blue gaze, searching for what Legolas saw that he didn't.

"The mark of Gondor," Legolas whispered by way of explanation. When the leader of the Men had dropped his pack on the ground, Legolas had noticed the tattered silver embroidered symbol – the white tree crowned with stars: the ancient symbol of the Southern Kingdom of Gondor. True, the pack could have been stolen but Legolas did not think so; these Men were different from those warped by the changing world, they seemed more sensible, less wild than the others. He couldn't place why but he didn't feel the cold stab of fear with them.

Aragorn did not share his sentiment and remained eager to leave.

So, when, quite unexpectedly, Legolas got to his feet, revealing them both to the Men, Aragorn's heart pounded in fear and shock. What was his guardian playing at? Was he looking to get killed? He wondered briefly whether the Elf was suffering from some fever stemming from the fact that he was injured. Surely that was the only explanation for the Elf's sudden recklessness.

The eyes of every man in the ancient ruins turned instantly to the tall blonde creature who had so unexpectedly appeared amongst them. Despite the undetermined nature of this new person, there was a long pause during which it seemed everyone simply froze to take in the sight. They all looked completely stunned. This was the last thing they had expected to see on Weathertop during their respite and they were embarrassingly unprepared.

However, sense was restored moments later when the Men quickly drew their well-maintained weapons and trained them on the Elf. A moment too late had they been facing a true enemy, Legolas thought.

"Leave this place and we will allow you to live," the leader of the Men commanded strongly, his own sword trained on Legolas.

At the threatening words, Aragorn also sprung up into view, ready to defend his guardian if he had to. It didn't seem possible for the Men to be any more surprised at the appearance of this second intruder. They stared dumbly; amazed that they had been so fooled by not just one but by two people.

Glancing across at Aragorn, who was standing trying to appear as intimidating as possible beside his mentor, Legolas held up his hand to the Men, saying softly, "Put your weapons down."

The leader of the band of Men stared dumbfounded by Legolas' bold command; this was not how he had imagined their brief stay at Weathertop would turn out at all. In fact, he couldn't remember the last time anyone had dared to speak to him so audaciously. For a long while he could think of nothing at all to say and his companions stood anxiously waiting for his next orders, as uncertain about this situation as their leader.

Tired of waiting, it was Legolas who broke the tension and the silence. "I am Prince Legolas Thranduilion and this is Aragorn, my ward," he announced with a formality that Aragorn had never heard from him before. Certainly, he couldn't recall ever hearing Legolas use his formal title with anyone. "We mean you no harm," Legolas quickly assured the astonished Human leader. "In fact, I believe you are the ones we have long been searching for."

Finally, the human found his voice although it was not quite as commanding as he would have wished, "Searching for me?"

"For your people," Legolas clarified calmly at the misunderstanding. "That is, if you are those protectors who call themselves the Rangers of the North."

The Men all glanced at one another in surprise at the tall blonde man's strong words, belaying confidence gleaned from years of experience. Their leader shook his head in amazement before turning back to the two strangers. "We are."

Legolas looked across at his companion and smiled vaguely in an 'I told you so' kind of way. Then, ignoring the concern clearly etched on Aragorn's features, he sheathed his two knives that had been held loosely in his hands and stepped around the stone structure behind which he and the boy had been hiding. Boldly, he walked right up to the man, who was obviously their leader.

"It is nice to meet you…" Legolas greeted, pausing for a name.

"Kinnale," the leader of the Rangers introduced himself vaguely, still a little stunned by all of this. "Nice to meet you, Legolas."

The Elf nodded in return, forcing a bright smile and then turned to look back at his young charge, who remained loitering uncertainly behind the Elven prince, untrusting of the Rangers even though they were the ones whom the pair had been searching for all these months.

"Come and say hello," Legolas prompted encouragingly.

Aragorn stepped forward hesitantly and mumbled, "Hello."

"Hello, Aragorn," Kinnale greeted with equal awkwardness.

For a while they stood in silence, discreetly sizing each other up. It was a strange position for both sides to be in.

The Rangers had met many enemies in their extensive travels and had even come across the odd person who had no evil intent, but usually they killed or left them to their own devices respectively. Very occasionally someone actively sought them out for protection or in the hope of aligning themselves with the well-armed protectors of Eriador but they tended to be denied their wish. Resources were scarce and the Rangers travelled constantly across the lands.

These strange people they were now faced with were somehow different though. Travel-worn and appearing to be half-starved and completely exhausted, they nevertheless radiated goodness. They were not on the side of the Shadow, that much was perfectly clear even at first glance.

Kinnale found himself most intrigued by the blonde one. Standing tall and proud despite the filthy rags he wore and despite his downtrodden countenance, this self-proclaimed 'prince' was clearly a great leader – or at least had been at some point in the past. Of what land, he did not know, but there was an air of royalty about him that could not be faked. He spoke with confidence and strength, his blue eyes wise beyond his years.

The other, Aragorn, was an entirely different creature altogether. Quiet and skittish, he hid behind the taller man despite the blonde's continued attempts to push him forward. He was young, although he held his weapons as though he had used them plenty in his few years.

No doubt the odd pair had seen their fair share of adversity and it had understandably made them wary.

Whilst the Men were observing the strangers, Aragorn was peering around Legolas – who had no such qualms about staring quite openly at the Men – trying to see what they had walked into.

All in all, the Rangers of the North that they had sought for so long were a rugged bunch. They stood tense and prepared for anything that may occur; well-maintained weapons remained close at hand as their leader stared at Legolas in amazement. Clad in woollen cloaks of dull grey or forest green, clasped with elaborately made silver brooches, they all wore similar clothes, an attempt at creating a uniform perhaps, of grey or black, all of which was looked after with obvious care and pride.

They were generally tall, almost as tall as Legolas himself, all with dark eyes, pale skin and stern expressions. In fact, Aragorn noted with a vague sense of bemusement, they all looked very much like him, except that he had neither their height nor their health.

Finally, after long moments of simply staring each other down, Legolas took the next step and broke through the barrier of bemused silence.

"You are stopping here for the night?" he asked almost conversationally.

"We were planning to. But that was before we stumbled upon you," Kinnale replied honestly. "How long have you been here exactly?"

"But a few days. We have been travelling for a long time; we had paused for rest."

"I see. So running into us was coincidence then."

"Ironic, isn't it?" Legolas quirked a smile at the Human.

Kinnale also smiled at him in agreement but then he glanced across at his fellow Men who still looked openly dubious about the strangers. "We don't have any food to spare, or any clothing or blankets."

Legolas held up his hand in protest and assured, "We ask for nothing from you, sir."

"Nothing?"

"Well, perhaps a private word – but that should cost you nothing." He looked then to Aragorn, who had bowed his head further, and then added seriously, "There is much we need to discuss."

Kinnale frowned deeply but then nodded. Talk cost nothing, as the blonde man had said. "Very well." He ordered his Men, "Start a fire and get some food prepared."

As Legolas and the leader of the Rangers went to walk away, Aragorn went to follow them, wanting to remain close to his guardian but Legolas turned back to him and said, "You stay here. Get yourself warm."

"No; I'm not leaving you alone with him."

Legolas laid his hand on the young man's shoulder, looking deep into his eyes. "I'll be fine. There are some things we have to talk about and it will be easier if I do it alone." Kinnale frowned at the seriousness of these words; clearly they meant something to both men as Aragorn nodded grimly in response. He trusted the older man implicitly although it was clear from their completely opposing appearances that they were not relations. "Rest. I shall not be gone long." Legolas softly told Aragorn, squeezing his shoulder and then finally releasing his ward.

Aragorn nodded and this time made no protest when Legolas moved away. Kinnale, increasingly intrigued by this odd couple, followed the blonde away from the forming camp.

"Perhaps we can take a walk around the ruins; for the privacy," Legolas suggested to the Ranger, who nodded in agreement after checking that his sword was within close reach just in case this man meant to do him some harm when they got to be alone, and followed Legolas as he left the area of the camp.

Legolas put a fair distance between them and the other Rangers before he slowed his pace and broke the thoughtful silence.

"Forgive my need for secrecy," the prince finally spoke with a small smile, "but what I have to say is of the utmost importance and I fear it will not be easy for you to accept. I wanted to confide it to you first, so that you may decide, without the complications that would surely arise from hearing the instinctive reactions of your fellow Rangers, how to proceed."

Clearing his throat anxiously, Kinnale answered, "Very well. Continue."

Legolas took a deep, cleansing breath and stepped away, turning his back on the tall Human whilst he gathered his thoughts. What had to be said was too important to word incorrectly. Both his and Aragorn's future now depended upon this man's reaction.

"My ward, Aragorn, came into my care when he was only nine years old. His father was Arathorn. His mother had died in childbirth. That Aragorn himself survived I now believe to be little short of a miracle. Arathorn, rightly or wrongly, raised his son in ignorance of who he is."

"And who is that?"

"Heir to the throne of Gondor."

A long silence followed. The Human was understandably stunned and Legolas kept his silence, knowing it was a lot to take in and that the man needed time to think on what he had just heard.

"Heir…?" The tall man shook his head then suddenly grinned widely, displaying well-kept white teeth. "That…" he started through his laughter, pointing with one finger towards Legolas in amusement, "that is a fine joke, friend." He moved so that he was at Legolas' side then threw one strong arm over bony shoulders. "But all this trouble…You see, Gondor has no king."

"No; it is ruled at the moment, I believe, by a Steward – a guardian to the throne who sits upon it only until the true king is returned."

"The true line of kings is long broken. None can restore it," Kinnale said with some sadness as he moved to start walking again, one arm still across Legolas' shoulders.

"It is restored. Indeed, it was never broken; merely exiled – like so many others."

"And this…Aragorn, son of Arathorn, is such an exile?"

"They are descended from Elendil's line."

"Impossible."

"The boy is living proof."

"No. Whatever delusion this is, I am sorry but it is not so." Kinnale now looked upon the blonde man with unabashed pity and he clapped his hand on Legolas' shoulder. "Come, let's get some warm food into you and then tomorrow we will take you to the nearest village and get you some help."

Pulling away in disgust, Legolas snapped, "I am not crazy! I tell you only the truth."

"I believe that you believe that to be so. But listen closely to me now, for your own good; whispering such things is dangerous. If the Enemy should hear this slander then there would be no place for you to run."

Legolas sighed. "We are already pursued. I fear the Lord of Darkness tracks us already, although we have evaded his servants thus far."

"So you sought us out for your own protection then? No matter what you have heard, we are not guards for hire, no bribe can tempt us."

"You are true to your mission – incorruptible," Legolas smiled in some satisfaction. "I admire that quality greatly. You are all I had hoped you would be."

"Is that so?"

"Indeed it is."

"Well then I am glad for it." The man turned away, increasingly bewildered by this blonde creature proclaiming himself to be a prince and to having found the long lost line of kings. Madness was by no means uncommon but he had rather hoped that this seemingly friendly pair would be different; they appeared to be good people. "Now we will return to our camp and get some food into you. You look like you are about to fade away."

"He carries the ring of Barahir," Legolas informed the man bluntly.

Kinnale stopped abruptly in his tracks. "Excuse me?"

"The ring of Barahir; the ring of the kings of Gondor."

"How…?" Slowly, Kinnale turned around to see Legolas holding up a small band of silver.

"An heirloom tied exclusively to the line of Gondorian kings. No other can possess it. His father passed it to me to give to Aragorn when he came of age. Along with it came the knowledge of his bloodline and the promise to protect him. Arathorn told me that his son would one day be great. But he cannot be so on his own, hence we have been searching for you."

Swallowing thickly, Kinnale asked, "To what end?"

"A king rediscovered requires a force behind him."

"We are but few."

"Enough for us."

"What does he need an army for?"

It was now Legolas' turn to lay his hand on the man's shoulder and he smiled softly. "To take back that which has been stolen from us."

"What?" was all the gobsmacked Ranger could squeak out.

"Our lands, our people; everything that the Dark Lord took from us."

Another long silence followed as the Human openly gaped at the Elf. Only after a while did the man finally choke out, "You intend to take on Sauron himself?"

"Not me."

"The boy?"

"He cannot stand alone. He needs allies. Does he have an ally in you?"

"I…I…What you're asking, it's madness. Surely you can see that."

"It will not be easy."

"No, it is impossible."

"Aragorn can do that which no other Man can: he can reunite the scattered tribes of Men, bring them back together. The only way to triumph over the Shadow is to unite under one banner. The Steward has done no such thing under his rule. Gondor needs a king, a new hope, and Aragorn is that hope. He can do what others have failed at."

"Destroy Sauron?"

"Kill Sauron," Legolas corrected.

"Kill…?" The man walked a couple of paces away, passing his hands over his rugged face and then running his fingers through his long hair.

"The death of the Dark Lord is the only way to end this for good, to restore order and Light."

Kinnale shook his head then almost in anger asked, "Do you have any idea what you're saying?"

"I do not say it without careful thought."

The man gave a scoffing laugh. "I would hope not." He turned his back on Legolas once again, trying to get everything straight in his mind. "What exactly are you asking of me and my men?" he eventually asked.

"Your allegiance."

"Yes, and what would that consist of?" the man persisted with a dash of impatience.

"Standing at Aragorn's side no matter what, teaching him, protecting him against all those enemies he is bound to make and, in time, following him as your king."

The man laughed breathlessly, saying, "That is a big ask."

"I know."

"And what would you give us in return for our allegiance?"

"A king."

Kinnale shook his head and laughed nervously again. "What you're asking is…it is an enormous ask, you must see that." This time Legolas merely nodded his head, knowing he could do nothing more to convince the commander of the Rangers. Now all he could do was wait for the man's decision. "To place all of our faith in one so young, in a mere child, is…I don't know. How can you be certain that the boy will succeed?"

"I cannot be certain," Legolas told him honestly.

"Great."

"All I know is that, for the first time in a long time, we have a cause for hope."

"A very small hope."

"That is more than many of us have had in a long while."

Kinnale shrugged in vague agreement but then pointed out, "Even if Aragorn's heritage is what you say it is, it is a big risk. The line of kings is said to have been weakened since Elendil; people would not have the faith in it they might once have had."

"They can be convinced. He will prove himself to them. He is not like Isildur; he is so much more." Looking deep into the man's grey eyes – strikingly similar to Aragorn's, he noted – Legolas said with all sincerity, "I believe in him."

Kinnale sighed loudly then began pacing around Legolas. The Elf remained quiet, perching himself upon a half-destroyed wall whilst the man deliberated. It seemed ages until the Ranger at last ceased his pacing and looked up with steely determination at the Elf.

"He is truly of royal blood?"

"Yes," Legolas answered simply.

"And you honestly believe that Sauron can be defeated?"

"Yes."

The man nodded, as surprised as Legolas was by the complete certainty in his answer. "And you really do believe that Aragorn can change this world for the better?"

"I really do." Legolas pushed away from the wall, moving closer to the man. "He cannot do it alone. There is still much that he needs to learn - and much that you will need to do. Even restoring him to the throne will be no easy task. But together, Men united stand a chance and that is all we really need."

"The might of Mordor will rain down on this boy, you realise."

This continued to be the most troubling thought for Legolas. He did not worry so much for himself but Aragorn would be hunted for as long as the regime of Shadow continued and if they should fail to overthrow the Evil of the east then it would mean certain death for the child he had come to love.

"I do realise," he answered quietly nevertheless.

"And you are aware that I cannot guarantee you his safety, even with an army behind him?"

"I understand that. Aragorn is fully aware of the sacrifice he makes and he does so willingly for the good of Middle Earth. Neither of us, you must believe, entered into this task lightly. We have both considered the risks to ourselves and to those who help us. But we cannot do this alone."

Another long silence followed as Kinnale, rational and sensible man that he was, made absolutely certain in his mind that his decision was the right one. Then, at long last, he dropped his arms to his sides, straightened his back and breathed deeply.

"What do you want us to do?" he asked firmly of the Elf.

To Be Continued…