The War Of Light And Shadow

by Freddie23

In a world changed by the rising of power in Mordor, Legolas gets entrusted with the life of a young boy. But he gets more than he bargained for as he must fight for his own life, for Aragorn's life and for the very future of Middle Earth. AU. Not slash. Complete.

33. The Darkness Of The Golden Hall

The War of Light and Shadow

By Freddie23

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Disclaimer: I own nothing Tolkien created.

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Chapter 33 – The Darkness of The Golden Hall

By the time they reached the place that the Men of Rohan called home, even the most patient amongst the Rangers were fed up. They were tired and nerves were frayed to near breaking point by the tension that had grown up between the two sets of Humans on the fraught journey. Even Kinnale looked annoyed at their surly brethren as they rode their steeds easily up a steeply sloping hill, leaving the Rangers to trudge up after them on foot. If Kinnale was irked by their unfriendly behaviour then some of the less even-tempered Rangers were positively fuming. Tarsem, the scout amongst them, was glaring daggers almost constantly at Eomer by now. This would have pleased the others had it not been for the fact that the red-haired scout had started taking his foul mood out on those closest to him; namely the Rangers themselves. An angry Tarsem did not make the walk any more bearable.

Only Legolas appeared unmoved by any of the tension in the air. He walked in silence at Aragorn's side, his face as impassive and unreadable as ever. The Rangers actually found themselves a little disappointed by this lack of concern. So far, Legolas had been the only one brave enough to stand up to Eomer and they had rather hoped that he would show off that impressive sense of command he possessed. But, as before whenever they travelled, the Elf had eyes only for his ward, as if none other mattered.

What the wearied Rangers approached now at least gave them pause in their displeasure. It was like nothing any of them had anticipated after looking at the unkempt Rohirrim wandering the plains.

At the top of a steep hill, stood an enormous reinforced stone building – a castle, actually. Eomer had not mentioned that his Rohirrim resided within a castle-fortress. So much for the put-upon Men of the Mark Kinnale had described. Compared to the small, run-down town of Bree, this stronghold was little short of spectacular.

Upon reaching a long, stone-paved path, the Men of Rohan dismounted and began to disperse, not bothered about the new people amongst them. Eomer, meanwhile, passed his reins over to one of his men and turned to wait for the Rangers to catch up.

Slightly out of breath from the long and steep climb, Kinnale surveyed the castle. Looking then to Eomer, he asked dryly, "Your humble abode?"

"The abode of my ancestors, yes."

"Lucky folk," Kinnale mumbled when Aragorn and Legolas had joined him and Eomer started leading them up the walkway.

"Hardly. They were all slaughtered."

This brought Kinnale to an abrupt halt, surprised. When, a second later, he started walking again, he said, "My apologies."

"You did not do the slaughtering."

Eomer guided them through the doors, clearly hastily made of patched-up bits of wood nailed together to replace the real doors that had evidently been breached at some point in the past as they did not suit the style of the rest of the castle at all. In fact, now that they were closer, it was easier to see that the castle had survived numerous attacks in its turbulent past. Its high walls were pock-marked with countless indentations and cracks caused by Enemy weaponry, windows were boarded up and doors broken or, as with the front, replaced with whatever resources had been lying around at the time of the clean-up. No guards stood on duty at any of these doors; the Rohirrim were not concerned about security, odd considering Eomer's obvious paranoia about Enemy spies infiltrating their lands.

"This," the blonde man started to explain as he led them through the entrance hall and deeper into the building, "is the Golden Hall of Meduseld, once the home of the Kings of Rohan and now the permanent base for the Rohirrim – what remains of us." He shoved open another stiff door bearing an enormous crack down its centre. One thing was immediately clear to the Rangers: Meduseld was at one time a castle besieged. They proceeded into a large, beautifully decorated golden hall, from where the fortress had gotten its name, they presumed.

The hall was far more beautiful than anything they had encountered in either Lothlorien or Rivendell in Aragorn's eyes. Great statues, carved of pure white marble lined the length of the walls, standing side-by-side amongst impossibly big, spiralling columns decorated in rich black and gold. At the head of this room stood a high golden throne, although it remained empty and covered in dust; it had not held a king in many years from the looks of it. On ground level was a smaller black throne made of the same smooth stone that created the floor. Murals adorned the walls and the vaulted ceiling as well and tapestries depicting ancient battles Aragorn knew nothing of hung all around, although they were now threadbare from the ravages of time and ripped and dirty as if they had seen battle themselves and had only just survived the purge of Rohan's people.

Everywhere the Rohirrim's pride and joy – their horses – were depicted with great reverence. Massive, proud steeds, carved and painted with love and veneration, more so even than the Human heroes depicted. These creatures were beloved, sacred even. It was no wonder that the people of Rohan were called the Horse Lords.

Stood in the middle of the great room as his guests turned all about to admire the splendour of his home, Eomer turned to the awed Rangers. "My men will show you where you can sleep tonight. Our facilities are few and simple but you are free to use them if you wish."

"We appreciate it, Commander," Kinnale said with a nod.

Eomer then looked to the young Aragorn and said, "I suppose you would like a proper look around, a tour of our home." He did not seem particularly thrilled at the idea.

Uncertain, as the rest of the Rangers wandered away to rest after receiving a nod of approval from Kinnale, Aragorn looked to Legolas, who had remained at his side along with Kinnale. At least he wouldn't be completely alone with the Rohan man. When Legolas nodded shortly in agreement, Aragorn cleared his throat and as boldly as possible, said, "That would be very useful, Commander, thank you."

For a moment, Eomer glared at him as if wanting to roll his eyes in exasperation at the boy's lack of experience in speaking before him; everything that came out of the young man's mouth sounded false and uncertain. However, he avoided commenting upon this by turning on his heels and leading Aragorn across the room.

When Eomer heard two sets of footsteps following him though, he turned to find Kinnale and, more surprisingly given he had not heard a third set of steps, Legolas, walking along with Aragorn.

"I said I would show the boy around. The invitation did not extend to you too."

Legolas met cold green eyes unflinchingly but remained at Aragorn's side regardless of the words. Kinnale looked a little less assured and glanced to the Elf for guidance.

"I would like them to stay," Aragorn quietly said; hardly the stern reply that seemed to be poised on the tip of Legolas' tongue.

A staring match then ensued, with Eomer and Legolas glaring at one another bitterly, neither willing to back down before the other. The tension shot up between them again like a physical force; a silent battle of wills raging unrelentingly. In the meantime, Aragorn and Kinnale could do nothing but watch helplessly. Both would have put money on Legolas coming out the winner in the end though.

And this would have been a wise bet for it was indeed the man who backed down first, breaking the battle of the stares and surrendering, for now at least, to the Elf. Far from seeming pleased at his small victory though, Legolas appeared almost disappointed that he had won with such ease.

"Very well." Eomer curtly turned away again and this time strode quickly from them. He was not at all pleased; his authority had been challenged in his own halls and it clearly grated on him that he had been publically bested by someone that he had taken an instant dislike to.

The man led the three of them quickly out of the Golden Hall and along a long, richly decorated corridor with an impressively high ceiling. The others followed in rather uncomfortable silence.

Quite to Eomer's surprise and distaste, it was Legolas who dared to break the silence in the end and asked the first question. "How is it that a structure as magnificent as this one survived the wrath of the Enemy?"

Only Legolas' referring to Meduseld as 'magnificent' softened Eomer's anger and thus tempered his response. "The building may have survived but its people did not fare so well."

"Yet you live."

Eomer nodded and proceeded to explain, "My ancestors were fortunate; they were out patrolling and defending the borders of Edoras when Meduseld was first besieged by the Shadow's armies. By the time they returned home, the Golden Hall was wrecked and its defenders massacred."

"Why then do you still reside here?"

"Because whilst this building remained standing, the rest of Edoras was completely destroyed during the War."

"No, I mean, this castle is unquestionably impressive, a prominent place in your lands, and yet it seems not to have been attacked for a good couple of decades. Why is it not a more obvious target for the Dark Lord's forces?"

"We are of little consequence to the Armies of Shadow," Eomer chuckled. "We pose no significant threat to Mordor anymore. My men are too few. We are no longer even considered important enough targets for Isengard anymore - mercifully."

"But we were attacked," Aragorn pointed out, referring to their most recent battle with the Orcs and strange Wolf-like creatures the Rohirrim had called 'Wargs'.

"You made yourself noticeable to the Enemy. We know our boundaries."

"And what exactly are your boundaries?" Legolas asked him.

"We try to keep to this fortress and the lands surrounding it. We only defend; we don't make a fuss."

"And in return for your good behaviour?"

"We get to live. A fine deal any way you look at it."

Legolas found that he could not wholly agree with this conclusion. These men may have considered themselves protected but they had also been made prisoners in their own land. Apart from the breeding of their beloved horses and their hilltop fortress long ago breached by the Enemy forces, they had very little. Even the villages they had walked through earlier to get to this opulent place had been dead, abandoned.

"How many people actually live here?" Kinnale asked in Legolas' place.

"As you saw, my guards number approximately twenty. We have around thirty women and a few children but they remain always in the castle."

"Only twenty trained fighters?" the Ranger echoed, surprised and disappointed by the small number. He'd rather been hoping for significantly more.

"There are other threats to our survival besides the Shadow, you know."

"Of course. I did not mean it as a slight, Commander."

"We were not always so few. Many left us, around about ten years ago. They no longer wanted to sit back and do nothing whilst the Dark Lord ruled over our lands. So, packing up their weapons and a few supplies, they rode out, half of them towards Gondor and Mordor and the other half to Isengard to confront the White Wizard."

"I assume it did not go well," Legolas guessed dryly.

Glaring again – he really did not like that Elf – Eomer coldly replied, "Only two men returned, both of them from the patrol set on taking on Isengard. None came back from Mordor. I was but a child at the time."

"A foolish endeavour."

Suddenly, Eomer rounded on Legolas, a knife positioned at the Elf's neck. Breathing heavily with emotion, he growled, "My uncle, my only living relative at that time, was killed in that 'foolish endeavour'. He was the bravest man I ever knew. So I would appreciate if you kept your opinions to yourself."

Blue eyes stared unflinchingly into Eomer's. If Legolas was concerned by the threat then it didn't show. Perhaps it was because Legolas knew that Eomer would not actually shed innocent blood or – more worrying for Aragorn – he did not care.

After a moment though, Legolas took a calm step back away from the knife and, bowing his head and laying his hand over his heart, said, "My apologies. I meant no offence."

It took Eomer a long while to decide that Legolas was indeed genuine but eventually he sheathed his knife and Aragorn and Kinnale drew in a collective breath of relief.

Once he'd taken another moment to gather himself, Eomer turned and started walking again, this time towards a specific destination and as he did, he spoke. "Their sacrifice was not entirely in vain. It proved sufficient distraction from the true purpose of going into the lair of the White Wizard."

"What was their true purpose?" Kinnale asked with a frown.

"Information gathering. The two men who returned were our spies, sent to document the defences of the fortress and its tower of Orthanc. They managed to get past the defensive circle of Isengard and penetrate the tower itself."

"And what did they find?"

"They found much. Although with Rohirrim numbers so depleted it proved all but useless knowledge."

"So the mission was a failure," the Ranger said, his voice again coloured with disappointment. He had been expecting more.

"Not entirely," Eomer smiled enigmatically. He stopped then before a locked, heavy wooden door at the very end of the corridor, which due to a past attack was now exposed to the open air. Outside stood two men, stern-looking, who did not so much as glance at the strangers standing before them. Whatever lay beyond that thick door was important enough to guard even though the men of Meduseld failed to guard even their front door. Eomer pulled a length of string from under his tunic. Hanging on this around his neck was a small iron key.

Immediately and inexplicably, Aragorn felt his anxiety peak. For some reason he did not want to see what lay behind that locked door. He rubbed his suddenly sweaty palms on his trousers to dry them and tried to take comfort from the fact that Legolas still seemed to be perfectly calm. His own heart was pounding so hard in his chest that he was sure the Elf could have heard its erratic pattern and his fingers twitched unconsciously towards the pouch hidden securely in his jacket pocket. He felt Legolas glance in his direction, as if sensing his unease and, licking his suddenly dry lips, Aragorn turned to his mentor to see the inevitable question in the Elf's eyes. He smiled at Legolas, hoping that it would be sufficient proof that he was alright. However, surprisingly, Aragorn thought that he saw a dash of unease in Legolas' eyes too. Did he feel the same nervous, frightening energy thrumming through his body as well?

Before Aragorn could enquire, Eomer inserted the key into the lock and turned it. The lock squeaked and protested at the use; the mechanism had not been turned over in a long time.

"Three years ago those two spies at last returned to us. Where they had been and why it had taken them so long to return home we could not determine."

"Did you try asking them?" Kinnale asked dryly with a small smile.

"Hardly." He slowly pushed the door open. Inside was dark but Eomer did not produce any source of light. "The two spies did not return to Meduseld empty-handed."

Whilst Aragorn noticeably hesitated in following the blonde man of Rohan, Kinnale boldly went after him, oblivious, it seemed, to the bad feelings his two companions were puzzling through. Legolas stepped in after the Ranger, determination etched onto his features. That his guardian was also unsettled only made Aragorn more ill at ease. After a moment though, he too entered the room, unwilling to be left behind on his own.

It was small, seemingly used more as a storage room than for any grander purpose. Dark as it was inside, it took Aragorn's eyes a moment or two to adjust sufficiently.

Whatever had once been stored in this room had been cleared away to make way – unnecessary though the surplus space might have been – for a small table, about five feet high, covered in a square of fine, deep brown cloth that looked to have been hastily cut from a cloak or tunic of some kind.

Aragorn felt his disquiet growing again as he stared at this cloth, in the centre of which stood out a starkly obvious bulge. The cloth was covering something and Aragorn guessed that it was whatever was making him tense. By his side, Legolas seemed just as unsettled and yet he stood firm, unyielding, even as Aragorn fidgeted against the urge to turn tail and run away.

Eomer had clearly been in this position before as, although he looked uneasy, he too stood tall and unafraid. Nevertheless, he moved slowly around the table, keeping to the walls to put some distance between himself and the thing beneath the cloth.

"Our spies returned from Orthanc with only this."

His mouth was dry so he could barely speak but Aragorn forced out of his throat, "What is it?" The weight in his right pocket was growing almost unbearable and heat pounded in his chest. He couldn't explain it but he undoubtedly felt it. It was almost as if something was…calling to him.

"We…we're not entirely sure." Eomer took a step forward and carefully took the corner of the cloth between his thumb and index finger. "See for yourself."

At the same time as Legolas yelled, "No!" taking a sudden step forwards, Eomer dragged the cloth off the object.

Immediately the effect was obvious. Aragorn felt the pressure in the room increase tenfold, pounding down on him until it actually made him feel lightheaded. At the same time, an odd, almost ethereal screeching filled his mind, although it felt distant. Strangely, it was not particularly unpleasant; just unusual. Only seconds later, Legolas' hand once again appeared on his shoulder and Aragorn found himself once more able to focus on the storage room in which he was standing, as if his guardian had brought him back down to earth and everything was made clear once again. Even Kinnale now seemed shaky, his eyes darting from the object revealed on the table to Legolas and back rapidly, looking to the Elf for reassurance.

The 'thing' – Aragorn had no idea what it was called – was small, innocuous looking at first sight and yet it was brutally obvious that the simple orb that sat on the table was of immense power. It practically throbbed with barely restrained energy. It was obsidian black with dark purple veins running across its surface and burrowing deep into its unusual swirling core, for solid though it was it appeared to be moving beneath the surface as if a liquid fire storm were raging inside.

Above all though, the orb was utterly enchanting. Aragorn found it both beautiful and terrible to behold and he found it difficult to pry his gaze away from it.

"Impressive, is it not?" Eomer broke the silence that Aragorn honestly had no idea how long had been going on.

Blinking, Aragorn shook his head and felt the odd pounding in his mind receding further still. Gathering his senses, he asked again in an almost reverent whisper, "What is it?"

Whist Eomer went to reiterate that he had no clue what the spies had brought back to Edoras, Aragorn curiously stepped closer and reached out his hand, compelled to touch the smooth surface.

Suddenly, Legolas' hand clamped around the boy's wrist and pulled his arm sharply down. "Do not touch!" he cried out in horror and panic.

"Wise advice," Eomer agreed calmly. "Those other two men who laid their hands upon its surface now lie under the ground."

"They're dead?" Aragorn asked in surprise, his hands clenching into fists at the near miss averted only by Legolas. He no longer felt the desire to caress the mysterious object's surface. "How?"

Glaring at the orb as if it were a sentient of terrible malevolence, the man answered, "They were driven insane by that thing. When they returned home, they said they had seen in its depths the most terrible visions."

"Visions? Like what?" Kinnale asked, also eyeing the object warily.

"They never said. Within a couple of months of coming back to Edoras both of them took their own lives in the throes of their madness, nothing could dissuade them from that course. After that, the object was locked in this room with the order that no one was to touch it. I have the only key and this room is guarded night and day."

"What could do such a terrible thing to Men?"

Suspiciously glaring at the swirling sphere as if it could somehow know his detest of its power, Eomer muttered, "Something infused with dark, malignant magic, that's for sure."

Eomer's flippant description of this object as 'magic' could not have been more appropriate at that point in Aragorn's mind; the thing fairly exuded an air of dark sorcery so often equated with the creations of the Shadow. This was no simple Orc trickery though. This was something altogether more potent and evil.

"Did Sauron create this…this abomination?" Kinnale growled, although the forging of the magic ball of stone could hardly be counted amongst the Necromancer's more heinous deeds against the world. And yet this thing inspired inexplicable anger in the commander's heart, as though the tendrils of the Shadow were working their way through his body and into his soul and spirit and trying to twist it beyond all recognition. It was a terrible feeling and he shuddered as though trying to shake the thought away and backed further away from the table until he was pressed fully against the wall, but it still did not feel like sufficient distance. He seriously doubted, staring unblinkingly into the depths of cloudy purple and black, that even if he were to cross back over the mountains and journey to the very furthest point from Edoras that it could be considered sufficient distance.

"This is not the work of the Shadow – although Shadow has indeed sullied it," Legolas answered certainly and to Kinnale the Elf did not seem in the least bit frightened by the thing that was causing him to want to run far away.

"You know what devilry this is?" Eomer demanded incredulously of the newcomer to Edoras. It had been in the keeping of the Rohirrim for three years now and the only thing they knew about it was that it had come from Orthanc and had the ability to drive rational people crazy.

Slowly, Legolas nodded, his own blue eyes, shining with curiosity and wonder, locked on the stone of swirling fire. "This is one of the lost Palantiri, the Seeing Stones."

"Seeing Stones?" Eomer repeated the name. "I have never heard of such a thing."

"Just because you have not heard of it doesn't mean it does not exist." It was not said meanly, although had Kinnale not been so distracted, he would have cheered at the blunt way Legolas spoke to the proud commander of the Rohirrim. "I have never seen one either, although I have read of them. Their creation is a popular story in Elven lore."

"Elven?" Aragorn interrupted, startled, head snapping in his guardian's direction. "This was made by the Elves?"

"Yes. Long ago by an Elven prince named Feanor. He created the Palantiri for the Elves; to enable the Wise to see great distances."

"But this…it drives people insane," Aragorn hissed in horror. He did not want to believe that Legolas' people had ever been responsible for producing something so terrible.

"The Elves did not keep the Seeing Stones. The starlight-infused crystals were gifted to the Dunedain, your ancestors Aragorn, in the Second Age of the Sun. My people inevitably lost track of them over the centuries as they were handed out amongst the Edain but they recorded that the Dunedain did not use them freely. I believe that when the Dark Lord rose to power, he gathered the Palantiri to him – they would indeed be a valuable commodity."

"How did one come to be here then?" Aragorn asked in a whisper.

"Saruman is in league with the Shadow," Eomer pointed out, calmed slightly by Legolas' explanation of the Seeing Stones.

"And Isengard – its Tower of Dark Sorcery was built by the Dunedain. Perhaps the previous occupants kept the Stone within the tower and when they gave Isengard over to Saruman long before the rise of Darkness they also left the Palantir in his safe-keeping," Legolas mused, casting his mind back to the books mapping the history of Man he had studied in lessons as a child. They were hardly packed with detailed information of Human lore but the scenario he posed nevertheless made sense.

"Great foresight, the Dunedain," Eomer muttered sarcastically, glancing in Aragorn's direction as if shifting the blame from the Elf over to him instead. Aragorn made no gesture back; his eyes were transfixed upon the Palantir, he had no thought for the Commander of the Rohirrim.

"They couldn't possibly have predicted how the White Wizard would be corrupted. More than likely it was through the Palantir that Sauron reached out to him in the first place."

"Wait a minute! Sauron has one of these things too?" Kinnale suddenly demanded as he put the pieces together, sounding even more frightened than before as he stared wide-eyed into the dark crystal as if he could see the Lord of Arda in the depths staring back at him. "Can…can he see us then?"

Panic lit the eyes of the three men in the room as they all stared into the depths of the Palantir, even though they feared the evil it represented. Only Legolas remained calm as he assured, "No. Only touch can spark the magic inside the Stones. One must want to see." The tension in the room eased slightly now they knew that their every move was not been observed and studied by the Dark Lord. "However, it is wise, Eomer, to keep it obscured from public view. So it must remain until the time is right to reveal our possession of it."

Breaking the spell that seemed to have enraptured them all, Legolas stepped forward and lifted the cloth from where Eomer had draped it over the edge of the table after revealing the Stone, and laid it back over the crystal, taking great care not to lay his hands on the mystical object. Even the strength of the Elves could not stand up to the might of Sauron. Despite the appearance that he was unaffected, in truth Legolas was just as scared of this thing as the others; it filled his senses, pounded in his head and spirit with a dark, malevolent beat. The power given out by this object almost physically hurt him, perhaps in a way that the less sensitive Men in the room could not understand.

"What do you mean 'when the time is right'?" Aragorn questioned the Elf's strange choice of words.

Legolas shook his head and became the first in the room to take his eyes off the table. Seeing that Aragorn had paled so greatly, that Eomer had not yet stopped glaring angrily at the table and that Kinnale was pressed so close to the far wall that it must have been hurting his back, Legolas finally spoke again.

"Come, we should get out of here."

Aragorn nodded and gratefully shuffled past Legolas towards the door and Eomer followed close behind, the key ready in his hand as if eager to shut and lock the door on the thing left to his safe-keeping by the unfortunate spies of Rohan. Only Kinnale did not move. It was as though he was simply incapable of moving his eyes off the table or moving his seemingly lead-filled, heavy body from this room.

Cautiously, Legolas approached the Ranger and took his arm.

At the Elf's touch, Kinnale startled and looked towards him. Beneath Legolas' hand, the man was trembling dreadfully.

"Come away, my friend," Legolas encouraged softly.

It took considerably more encouragement to coax Kinnale away from the room in the end. He wanted to leave this place behind and never set foot inside ever again. But he found that even though Legolas' touch had somehow lifted the majority of the thick fog from his mind, his legs were still not working properly. He was extremely glad that Legolas was at his side because the overwhelming temptation to turn back and snatch up the Seeing Stone and stare into its depths once again filled his heart and mind. Only the Elf's grip on his arm prevented him from doing so.

The moment Eomer closed the door and locked it again, Kinnale felt the weight lifted fully from his mind. His legs felt weak and he struggled not to sink to his knees, a feat aided by Legolas' continued hold on his arm. At his side, he heard the others take similarly deep breaths of relief and he filled his lungs with fresh air, relieved beyond words to be away from that thick, dark magic. He hadn't realised until now just how stifled he had felt all but trapped in that small room.

For a long while, the four of them stayed silent, unmoving, trying in vain to make sense of what had just occurred.

Surprisingly, it was Kinnale, still trembling slightly, who broke the silence in the end. He announced to the others, "I think I need a drink."

Five minutes later saw all four of them sat on a long bench two on either side of the great dining table so that they could see one another. Before each of them sat a full goblet of the Rangers' most potent alcohol. This was in fact their second glass and so far none of them felt that the liquor had eased the echoes of the magical pounding in their heads.

It had been a long while since any of them had spoken and the thick silence only increased the tension over the table. Every time anyone went to speak, they were immediately silenced by some strange compulsion and so the quiet continued and the tension grew.

Eomer cleared his throat as he reclined back in his chair and the others startled at the sound, which seemed impossibly loud cutting through the quiet.

Mercifully, it broke the tension. Kinnale chuckled, leaning back in his own chair, mirroring the other commander's pose, as he relaxed a little bit. And, just like that, the tension snapped and calm descended over them once more.

"Well, I suppose you will want somewhere to rest tonight," Eomer said bluntly all business once more, sitting forward, elbows leant on the scarred wood of the table.

"I know I could use a warm bed for the night," Kinnale agreed light-heartedly. Had it not been for the slight tingling lingering at the back of his tired mind, he could almost have convinced himself that the whole incident with the Palantir had never happened at all – and he would certainly have preferred it that way.

"Well, I can't guarantee a bed but our rooms are warm and dry."

"Good enough."

Kinnale and Eomer heaved themselves wearily to their feet and headed towards the door, eager for rest. More slowly, Legolas and Aragorn followed suit, lagging behind the other two. The Elf could tell that Aragorn remained lost in his own thoughts and he laid his hand on the young man's arm to help guide him safely through the wide halls of Edoras after their host. Worryingly, Aragorn barely seemed to notice his guardian's presence or even that they were moving at all.

Legolas, however, paid attention as Eomer guided them through the abandoned corridors, the only source of light being the candle the man held. It was hard to believe that they were walking in the same building; the corridors seemed so dramatically different from all they had seen so far. Far from the beautifully decorated halls Legolas had been expecting after the splendour of the throne room they had come across upon first entering Meduseld, these hallways, deeper within the castle, were bare and empty, not nearly as well-kept as the Men of Rohan's pride and joy on display to all visitors. Dust covered the floors, only slightly disturbed by passing feet, as if this particular hall was not often used. Doors lines the corridor but all remained firmly closed, rooms sitting unoccupied.

"This is the guest wing. To be honest, we haven't had a whole lot of use for it over the years. But there are mattresses and blankets inside the rooms," Eomer explained as they walked, noticing Legolas looking about himself in curiosity.

"We've slept in worse places," Kinnale assured honestly.

"No doubt."

Eomer eventually came to a halt outside a door at the very end of the long corridor and stepped over to open three of the doors. "Your rooms. Everything you need should be inside. Your men are currently being given food and drink in our dining halls but they will soon join you down here. Do you require food? We don't have a lot to share…"

"We have food, thank you," Legolas answered quietly to the strained hospitality. Now that the Palantir had been identified and Eomer had sufficiently completed his duty as tour guide it was obvious that he was eager to get away back to his own people.

"Right then. I'll leave you to settle in."

The man passed his candle to Kinnale then turned and strode back the way they'd come without another word, leaving the three of them alone. Once he was gone, Legolas, Kinnale and Aragorn all filed into a single room, closing the door behind them to provide some privacy in case of any Rohan residents happening to pass by. It seemed that Eomer hadn't been kidding when he'd said that the guest rooms of Meduseld weren't up to much. An old thin straw mattress sat beneath a boarded-up window but not a single piece of furniture decorated the room. It was easy to imagine that at one time this space had been extremely pleasant, perhaps belonging to some scribe or low-level advisor granted rooms within the Golden Hall, but, like all else, that had long since changed and now it more closely resembled a prison cell than a bedchamber. Nevertheless, they were glad for the blankets and the rooms Eomer had given them, it was better than sleeping outside.

Immediately, Legolas led Aragorn over to the bed and sat him down. The boy allowed himself to be manoeuvred into place without objection.

"How do you think he took it?" Kinnale asked eventually, running his fingers over the bare mantle-piece above the empty fireplace, coming away with a thick layer of grey dust which he rubbed from his finger onto his trousers.

"Our plan, you mean?" Legolas questioned, his attention remaining on Aragorn's blank face for the minute. Kinnale nodded despite Legolas not looking at him, seemingly anxious again. "I do not know. I certainly hope he agreed with us. I believe that when threatened, the Rohirrim are more than capable and certainly willing to defend their people.

"Competent warriors given the chance," Kinnale agreed.

"Let us hope." For a couple of minutes, Kinnale paced up and down the length of the room, stopped only by Legolas' voice. "We all need to rest." His eyes were still fixed on Aragorn in concern. "It has been a very trying day for everyone."

"Yes." The Ranger's eyes also took in Aragorn's slumped form, pale and silent sat on the mattress. "Right, I'll leave you to it." With that, he strode purposefully from the room, pulling the door closed behind him.

Legolas waited until he heard the door to the room across the hall close before he turned his eyes back to Aragorn once more. The boy was staring blankly at his hands, clasped tightly in his lap, and seemed oblivious to his guardian's piercing gaze on him. Gently, Legolas placed his hand upon his ward's shoulder and softly asked, "Are you alright?" The boy nodded, obviously distracted, not so much as sparing Legolas a glance. "Aragorn, look at me," Legolas ordered firmly.

Painfully slowly, soft grey eyes rose to meet sharp blue and after a second Aragorn blinked in confusion, as if he had only just realised that they had left the small room containing the Seeing Stone and that Legolas was sat next to him.

"Are you alright?" Legolas asked again, this time more confident that his charge would answer.

He was proven correct as Aragorn slowly replied, "I think so."

Lowering his eyes again, Aragorn went back to blankly staring at his hands, still folded tightly together on his thighs. For a moment, Legolas allowed the morose silence – so troublingly unlike Aragorn – to continue. Then he reached up his hand and smoothed the young man's hair in a rather uncharacteristically parental display of affection. Softly, he said, "The Palantir…Looking into it upset you."

"Yes," Aragorn muttered.

"It did me too."

Aragorn looked up at his guardian in surprise. Legolas had seemed so unerringly calm in the face of an object so full of evil; impossibly calm, it had seemed at the time. To know that Legolas had in fact also been ruffled was oddly comforting. The Elf was never one to be overly dramatic, so maybe that horrible pressure he'd felt on his own heart and mind as he'd gazed into the swirling black and deep purple crystal was not quite so utterly overwhelming now that it was shared by his guardian.

"You…you felt it as well?"

"Yes."

"Have you ever felt that kind of thing before?"

"No, I have not," Legolas confessed to him honestly.

"What was it?"

"Honestly, I do not know. Evil, maybe; the pressure of the Shadow on our minds." Aragorn visibly shuddered at the mere mention of the Shadow of Mordor and Legolas very nearly did the same.

"I don't ever want to have to feel it again."

Aragorn had rather been hoping for the absolute assurance from Legolas that he would never again have to feel the touch of Darkness on his mind but Legolas remained silent for a long time before finally speaking. "The Shadow is forever growing stronger, Aragorn. Soon you may have no choice but to face that kind of evil again."

Shaking his head, Aragorn breathed shakily, "I don't want to." He willed the hot tears not to gather in his eyes but nevertheless found his vision rapidly blurring and his cheeks burning.

"I know you do not."

Was that sympathy he heard in Legolas' voice? What had the Elf to be sorry about? Did his guardian know something more of his future than he had confided already?

He wanted to demand answers from his guardian, to know all that he knew, and yet he found himself pressing his forehead to Legolas' shoulder and whispering, "I'm scared."

Legolas wrapped his arm rather awkwardly around his young charge and pulled him close. "I know."

"It felt so close to me."

The Elf did not need to ask what had felt so close for he too had felt the cold touch of the Shadow on his mind and heart as he'd looked into the ancient Elven crystal. And, although it would never do to admit to this to the vulnerable young man at this moment in time, it had scared him too.

"I felt it just as acutely," Legolas told him. "But it was just an illusion, Aragorn. He was not here with us."

Grey eyes shot up in sudden panic to meet Legolas', his breathing ragged through his fear. "What if he saw us?" he demanded, terror stealing the breath from his body and making it difficult to speak. His hands gripped hold of Legolas' forearms so tight that it hurt them both. "If he knew what…what we were trying to do, that we were planning to stand against him, then…then what would he do, Legolas?"

Not for one instant did Legolas' calm façade slip and he looked steadily into panicked eyes as he answered with absolute certainty, "There is no way he could possibly have seen anything, so do not worry that he knows anything about you, me or our plans."

"But you don't know - not for certain."

"Yes, I do know."

"How?" Aragorn demanded, his eyes wild now. To think that the eye of the Dark Lord had been fixed on him, no matter how briefly, terrified him. Aragorn knew that Legolas had omitted certain aspects of his grand plan when speaking of it in front of the boy and he feared that now Legolas was simply uttering false platitudes to calm him rather than speaking the truth as he desired. "Tell me, how do you know for sure?"

"Calm yourself, Aragorn. The crystals can only be used when touched, therefore if you do not will to see another then you cannot."

Slowly, under his guardian's cool gaze, Aragorn calmed his breathing and allowed Legolas' presence to comfort him until the pounding fear in his chest eased again. Swallowing thickly, he released Legolas' arm, stretching out his aching fingers before swiping them over his eyes to clear away the unwanted moisture lingering there.

Once he felt that his voice would be strong enough, Aragorn softly said, "I am sorry." He looked up to his guardian and added in all sincerity, "I do trust you."

At this, Legolas simply smiled, not knowing quite how to respond to such a great compliment. It was all he could ask for: the trust of his ward. Hesitantly, Legolas then gave the young man one last reassuring squeeze before leaning away from the embrace. "We should both get some rest; take advantage of Eomer's hospitality, such as it is. I have a feeling that it will be fleeting." At least he managed to draw a short bark of laughter from the boy; that in itself had to be considered a victory after the day they had had. "Do you want to eat something first?" Aragorn shook his head morosely. "Are you sure? We have some cold meat left over."

"I think I'd rather just go to sleep."

"Alright." Legolas could understand just how his ward felt because he felt very much the same way. It was as if all the energy from the Palantir had worked its way into his mind and soul and now that it had left it felt like it had sapped away of any strength he had possessed beforehand.

Legolas shifted aside as his young charge lay down on the mattress and turned onto his side away from the Elf, not wanting to speak anymore that night. The room was warm enough even though no fired burned in the hearth. And yet, Aragorn shuddered slightly. So Legolas delved through his pack until he found the blanket and then laid it over the man, as much for a sense of security as a source of warmth.

Aragorn clutched the blanket around himself tightly but made no effort to acknowledge the actions of his guardian. So, deciding to leave Aragorn alone for a while to gather his thoughts just as he himself longed to do, Legolas stepped silently away from the humble bed.

"Can you stay for a while?"

The voice was so soft that Legolas was sure that without Elven hearing it would have gone entirely unnoticed even in the quiet of the room. He turned back to find that the man had not yet moved and yet he felt in Aragorn that almost desperate need for company, to know that he would actually not have to be left alone with his thoughts.

Walking back to the bed and purposefully treading across the floor so the boards creaked in order to let Aragorn know that he was indeed doing as asked, Legolas answered, "Of course." He sat himself down on the hard, dusty floor beside the bed.

Still Aragorn did not speak but after a while Legolas heard him slowly shifting to get into a more comfortable position.

Perhaps unsurprisingly, it wasn't long before Aragorn's breathing evened out, indicating that he had finally fallen asleep. In his sleep, Legolas knew that Aragorn would never notice his absence at his side, and yet he stayed put, sitting on the wooden floor long after the last of the daylight had faded from the small window. After a while he heard the loud footsteps outside coming down the hall as the Men returned from their meal and then the sound of poorly hushed voices as they gathered together in conference, discussing their arrival in Edoras and the people they had met. Legolas made no effort to pick out specifics and made no move to go and participate in their conversations and none of them came to interrupt them, for which he was grateful. There was so much to think about now that they had at last arrived in Edoras and found the Rohirrim and he didn't really wish to sit with the Men and talk through the details until he had it all clear in his mind. He pulled his legs up, wrapped his arms around them and rested his chin on his knees, focus half on Aragorn and half occupied by thinking of Eomer and the Palantir.

Legolas startled awake at the sound of Aragorn stirring at his side. He hadn't even realised that he'd fallen asleep, sat up, leant awkwardly against the wall, his knees up and his head pillowed on them. Blinking to clear his vision, Legolas looked to the mattress where his ward laid sleeping. Although it seemed that Aragorn had been tossing and turning for a while, the man remained sound asleep, too exhausted it seemed to claw his way back up from the world of dreams he was currently walking.

Yawning widely, Legolas stretched out his stiff arms and legs. He was still weary even after his sleep but at least he was no longer concerned about leaving Aragorn alone; he was fairly confident that the man would sleep for a while yet. So, he climbed to his feet, pausing to straighten the blanket over Aragorn, and went to the door, stepping silently out of the bedroom.

Uncertain which room he was supposed to be in not having paid Eomer much attention when he'd brought them here, Legolas wandered idly along the hallway, not concerned by the darkness.

When he reached the end of the corridor and turned the corner, he very nearly ran into one of the Rohan guards. Muttering an apology for almost crashing into the man, Legolas went to walk away but then turned back and asked, "This place is a maze; could you direct me to a bathroom?"

The man glanced in his direction only briefly before looking away again, almost as if he wanted to answer but had been ordered not to talk.

"Very well," Legolas muttered, stepping away.

"It's no use trying to get any sense out of them."

Legolas turned sharply at the voice, exclaiming, "Kinnale!"

The man laughed at the Elf's surprise and came over to the blonde Elf so that he could be seen in the darkness. "Sorry. I've been trying to search out Eomer but his Men have certainly been no help. Come on," he continued, taking Legolas' arm, "I know where there's a bathroom."

Leaving the silent guard behind, Kinnale led the Elf through corridors that even in the dark Legolas vaguely recognised from earlier that day.

"So, how is Aragorn?" Kinnale broke the silence after a while.

"Sleeping. He's exhausted."

"We all are, I think."

Legolas nodded in agreement, biting back a yawn that threatened to escape him at the mention of sleep. He then turned his head to the Commander of the Rangers and noted, "You look better."

"Mm; sleep heals all ills. From the looks of it, you could do with some yourself."

"Aragorn didn't want to be left alone."

"Understandable under the circumstances."

"Yes." Legolas' mind immediately shot back to the Palantir. He could have cursed Kinnale for reminding him of that feeling he'd tried so hard to forget all evening.

Kinnale stopped outside a door, which Legolas presumed was a bathroom, but did not move out of the Elf's way so he could enter. Waiting patiently, Legolas stood in silence until the man felt ready to speak what was on his mind. "That…thing, Legolas…"

"The Palantir," Legolas boldly spoke its correct name.

"Right. Do you not think we should be thinking of ways to destroy it?"

"As far as I am aware the crystals cannot be destroyed by conventional methods and attempting to could alert the allies of the Shadow as to our whereabouts."

"We definitely don't want that that," Kinnale mused dryly. "Do you believe it is safe, leaving it in the hands of the Rohirrim?"

"Absolutely not."

Kinnale looked up to the ceiling and took a deep breath to compose himself before looking back to Legolas with a murmured, "I was afraid you'd that."

"It may be dormant for the time being but that doesn't mean that it should be underestimated. It is immensely powerful and extremely dangerous in ignorant hands."

"You plan to take it with us when we leave?" the Ranger asked in a whisper as if the Men of Rohan were listening from a distance, which Legolas supposed was entirely possible. "I can't imagine that Eomer will be pleased to hear that, even if he does decide to join with us."

Legolas shook his head. Also keeping his voice low, he reasoned, "The Palantir is not his to possess and given what it represents for his people and for all of Middle Earth he should be glad to be rid of it."

Kinnale made an uncertain face then shook his head. "If he does wish to keep it then he's a damned fool. I'd be quite happy if I never had to look at that thing ever again."

"I fear that despite its unsettling magic, the Palantir may be of help to our cause yet."

"Help? That thing is evil to the core."

"Yes, it is. But for once that might actually work to our advantage."

"How so?"

"I don't know yet." Silence fell between them again - Legolas thoughtful, Kinnale fearful. Truthfully, Legolas' words had surprised even him. He had no idea how exactly the Palantir, conduit of Evil that it had become, would be an advantage to the forces of Light but his instincts told him that it was so and he knew enough to listen to his instincts when they were so clear; they had served him well so far. Once he had cleared that up in his mind, Legolas looked to Kinnale again and offered the obviously worried man a small smile. He laid his hand on the man's broad shoulder and patted. "Do not worry just yet, Kinnale, we are in no danger from the Shadow in this exact moment in time."

"That does not particularly reassure me."

A soft chuckle left Legolas' lips at this and he observed, "You sound much like Aragorn."

"Now, there's a compliment coming from you."

"Indeed."

Relaxed somewhat by Legolas' unwavering confidence that he actually knew what he was doing, Kinnale allowed himself to smile, feeling better now than he had since they'd looked into the dark crystal. Either the Elf really did have a greater plan than he had let on to the Rangers so far or he was a superb actor, but either way it lessened the troubles on his mind so he took the assurances at face value.

"Well, whatever happens, I'm glad I'm on your side, Legolas."

"Thank you."

Suddenly uncomfortable with the unexpected praise from the Ranger, Legolas shifted on his feet, searching his mind for an excuse to depart from the source of his embarrassment.

"Well," Kinnale exclaimed, sensing the Elf's discomfort with what was being said, "I'll let you…" He stepped away from the bathroom door then gestured to the corridor they had just walked down, asking, "Can you find your own way back?"

"I think I can manage, thank you."

"Good." Before the moment could grow any more awkward, Kinnale strode quickly away, leaving Legolas to stare after him in confused wonderment. Over the past months, Kinnale had become a friend and sort of confidante, but he couldn't recall ever being complimented quite so directly by the man before. It left him feeling rather bemused.

Deciding that he was too tired to wonder any longer at the Ranger tonight, Legolas slipped into the bathroom. It was reasonably well-maintained but was also pitch black inside so Legolas had to feel his way around.

Once he'd made himself more comfortable using the meagre facilities, he returned to where the guest rooms were located. No lights burned anymore so he assumed that all the Rangers had at last gone to sleep for the night, although he didn't doubt that their rest would be troubled, sleeping as they were in an unfamiliar realm of Men they were still uncertain about. He contemplated that it was a good thing that so far they knew nothing of the Palantir, this very great weapon of the Enemy that slept just a few corridors away from them.

When Legolas briefly looked in on Aragorn, he found that the man remained sound asleep, uncaring of his new surroundings or his guardian's absence. Smiling gently, Legolas retreated, closing the door carefully so as not to disturb his young charge's peace.

Thankfully, Legolas found that a thoughtful someone, Kinnale he presumed, had left open the door of the vacant room meant for him and he stepped gratefully inside, glad for the privacy it offered. In front of Aragorn, or even before the Rangers' sympathetic commander, he had to remain strong, unbending in the face of the Shadow even though in his heart he was filled with fear and doubt over the task that still lay ahead of him and his young ward.

He had no more of an idea of how to handle the situation now than when Arathorn had first laid the responsibility of the heir of Gondor upon him. Of course, he couldn't let on to the others that he was utterly clueless. For some unfathomable reason, Aragorn still looked to him as a guide and mentor and the Rangers, on the young king's recommendation, seemed willing to follow wherever he led them.

Heaving a world-weary sigh, Legolas flopped gracelessly down on the thin mattress positioned on the floor under the one boarded-up window, not even bothering to take off his boots and jacket. Laid stretched out on his back, staring up at the ceiling, Legolas tried to clear his mind of thought enough to allow at least for reverie but he ended up lying awake for another few uncomfortable hours before he was finally allowed some semblance of rest.

To Be Continued…