The War of Light and Shadow

By Freddie23

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Disclaimer: I own nothing Tolkien created.

A/N: Thanks so much for the reviews. Please keep them coming. I always enjoy reading them so much. Hope you enjoy the next chapter.

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Chapter 55 – Fractures

Once he was certain that Ciaran was safely asleep again, Legolas disentangled his hand from the boy's and gently laid the limp hand back on his slowly rising and falling chest. Satisfied that Ciaran was resting peacefully for now and not likely to wake any time soon, Legolas got up stiffly and stepped away as quietly as he could manage so as not to disturb the boy.

"He'll sleep well for now," Valon said when he caught up with Legolas once the Elf had finished his silent vigil.

"Good."

"Tea?" The healer held out a battered metal cup to Legolas, who took it gratefully, wrapping his hands around the warm container. "And how have you been?"

"I am still standing, am I not? And entirely unaided."

"A miracle indeed. Would you consent to a quick examination?"

"Pleasant as that sounds, maybe later," smiled Legolas grimly before taking a sip of the sweet herbal tea. "Don't you have better things to do with your time?"

"I figured you would say that."

Again, Legolas flashed the well-meaning healer a smile. "How well you have come to know me."

"Yes, a healer always recalls his most troubling patients the most vividly."

Legolas had already moved away, ignoring this last comment, obviously meant in jest. He found Aragorn already asleep and he sat down nearby, finishing his tea in peace. Questions from the rest of the company about the return of Aragorn and his guardian as well as the arrival of the new-comers were put to Eomer rather than the Elf upon their coming back to the camp and the man seemed happy enough to answer them. For this he was grateful. Really, he did not want to answer a lot of complex questions right then. Enough sneering at the implausible tale of the allegiance they had forged with the King of the Dead Men of Dunharrow had occurred already; he did not think he could handle any more.

"Your friend is well?"

Jecha's voice startled Legolas and he looked up to see the Easterling staring down at him. He had not heard the man's approach, which concerned him somewhat. He was becoming lax, complacent within the company of the other Men.

Shaking off his annoyance at himself, Legolas answered, "Uh, no. But he will be in time."

"I am glad."

"Why? You do not know him."

"He is a friend to the king," Jecha replied in a tone that implied that it should be self-evident, showing no sign that he was offended by Legolas' own blunt statement, "therefore I care."

"Ridiculous logic."

Deep brown eyes turned on Legolas, confusion shining in them. "I do not understand. You follow the king also." Jecha lowered himself without invitation down onto the ground beside the Elf.

"Of course."

"In fact, you raised him, brought him up to lead his people to their freedom. You have invested much in his survival and education."

"Yes, I suppose I have," said Legolas softly before tipping his cup up to finish the dregs of his tea.

"And yet you now object to his subjects following him with similar loyalty?"

"I did not say that."

Jecha let the subject drop, indicating so with a slight nod, although he did not seem entirely satisfied with the outcome of the blunt conversation. But then he asked, "I have noticed in the short time that I have been here that these Men look to you for guidance rather than to the king. Why is that?"

Sensing that some kind of veiled insult was hidden in amongst that question, Legolas pursed his lips together to keep from responding unkindly. Drawing on patience he didn't know he possessed, Legolas shook his head and looked down at the dry ground.

"I do not know."

"No?"

Turning to the Easterling, Legolas reiterated with a tight, "No."

"It is not because you do not believe in him, in his skill to lead?"

Offended by the accusation, Legolas almost growled out his response. "How dare you! You know nothing about Aragorn or me."

"My apologies."

"Keep your opinions to yourself."

Ending the conversation, Legolas shot up from his spot by the dying fire and strode away before he said something he would regret. All tiredness had been swept away along with the conversation so Legolas made his way through the camp to the outskirts where he had always felt most at ease. He had always been a solitary creature, even in Mirkwood he had boasted few close friends and preferred to be out training or patrolling his beloved forest home to attending court or be partying in his father's lively halls with his peers.

For a while he paced, trying to work off his anger and excess energy.

Surely Jecha had been wrong in his accusations. He had not held Aragorn back, had he? Ever since he had taken Aragorn under his wing, he had always tried to do his best by him, just as he had promised Arathorn that he would. It had never been easy. He had never looked after a child. Never had he even had to take care of an Elfling let alone a young Human who presented him with such problems an Elf could never have foreseen.

He remembered Aragorn's first illness. He had been curled up miserably in the corner of a cave they had sought shelter in after a particularly savage winter, coughing and gasping for breath. And he had been entirely useless. He could not even give a name to this illness. They had no supplies and that month he had barely been able to scrounge together enough food to keep them alive. There had been nothing he could do to ease Aragorn's suffering.

In moments like those, he had felt like a failure on every level. But Aragorn had never blamed him. In fact, the boy had always reassured him. Even as a child when he still grieved for his fallen father, he seemed to understand that Legolas was clueless regarding the ailments of Mankind. He'd reassured Legolas that it would pass in time and with chance to rest. But Legolas had remained nervous, especially considering how Arathorn had perished; with the same symptoms that Aragorn on occasion displayed.

Of course, Legolas would never tell Aragorn of his fears. He would merely stiffly offer comfort, assuring the man that the illness would pass and soon he would be feeling well again.

And he had tried to teach him well. After they had left the Old Forest Road, Legolas had hoped to set the young man on his path. He had taught him as much as he could, adapting his Elven training to suit the Man. Of course, Aragorn did not possess the strength and speed of the Elves and yet he had been a diligent student when he deigned to put the effort in.

However, the now very real possibility brought forth by Jecha that Legolas had in some way failed his young charge concerned Legolas greatly. After all, it had always been his greatest fear: that he would fail his ward, that Aragorn would not be prepared.

It was not only his pride at stake. There was so much more.

"Legolas!"

The Elf looked up at the sharp crack of his name through the silence. Blinking, the Elf found Eomer standing a few feet away from him.

"Eomer?" How long had he been standing there? The day had progressed, so probably hours. Hours lost in his own winding, self-pitying thoughts. "What?"

"Stop obsessing and get over here."

Straightening out his shirt, Legolas walked over to where Eomer stood waiting for him. "I was not obsessing," the Elf mumbled darkly as he joined the commander.

"Of course not."

Resisting the urge to roll his eyes proved difficult so Legolas distracted himself by saying, "What do you want?"

"For you to quit obsessing."

"Once more, I was not…"

"Whatever you say. I figured you would want to be a part of this discussion," Eomer told the Elf as he led him near to one of the fires where Janor, Jecha and the other Easterling, who Legolas had learned from Jecha was called Sonal, had gathered. "It is decision time." Eomer took a seat on the ground so that the group was organised in a rough circle and Legolas joined them rather more reluctantly. As far as he was concerned, the decisions had already been made and he saw no cause to discuss them further or change them simply for the sake of it.

"Gondor still remains a viable option," continued the Rohan commander, addressing the rest of the gathered group.

"Gondor remains the only option," corrected Legolas decisively.

Eomer looked around at the gathered Men and, bolstered by the fact that there had been no immediate outcry regarding either option, went on, "We have no clue what awaits us in the ancient city."

"The throne awaits its rightful king," Legolas said automatically.

Continuing on in spite of the interruption, Eomer persisted, "Or if there is even a Gondor left. If our lands of Rohan were besieged then surely Gondor will be just as bad, if not worse considering its proximity to the Black Lands."

"Where then do you suggest we go instead?" Janor asked sceptically. Personally, given his past affiliations with Legolas and Aragorn, the Ranger tended to lean more towards the Elf's plans than the Rohan man's.

"Bree."

Janor's eyes widened in surprise at the name of his home being spoken. Of all the places, that had been the one he had expected the least to hear. Warmth filled his heart at the prospect of returning home, of seeing his family once more, of being on familiar soil.

"There is nothing for us in Bree." Legolas' cold voice put an immediate halt to any feeling of home that might have warmed the Ranger.

"You do not know that for sure," Eomer told the Elf somewhat testily. "It might be advantageous for us to go somewhere quiet to regroup."

"Yes, I do know that it would be a waste of our time, which is precious."

"If we gathered more…"

"We have all the help we are going to get. Only those unfit to fight remained behind in Bree when we departed from there. There is nothing there that can help us so it would be pointless to travel out of our way."

"And in Gondor?"

"If we can retake Gondor…"

"If. If we can retake Gondor. It's a big, uncertain if. After we put Aragorn on the throne, then what, Legolas? Do you think it will be any easier to lay siege to Mordor after our resources are depleted in a futile battle for Gondor? Better to gather all forces to us in a place that the Dark Lord is not expecting us to be – like Bree or Rohan – and march on the Black Lands now whilst we still hold the element of surprise. If we take Gondor, the Dark Lord will see us coming and we wouldn't stand a chance against his great forces."

Legolas ran his hand through his hair in frustration. "It won't matter if…He already knows! Don't you people get that? Sauron already knows we're coming! That's why he sent the Orcs and the Uruk-hai and the Nazgul!" Annoyed eyes glanced around all the gathered, shocked faces.

"Then what, Legolas? Tell us. Enlighten us," Eomer challenged mockingly.

"You know what."

"Gondor. That's it? No back-up plan? Don't you think that is a tad arrogant?"

In truth, this was what he had promised Arathorn – take Aragorn to his rightful place in Gondor, make him into the king he was born to be. He had been aiming for Gondor pretty much right from the start and he had never even considered any possible alternatives and he could not now dispel the ideal that remained stuck in his mind.

"No, I have no back-up," he was forced to admit.

A look of righteous justification crossed Eomer's features. How he loved to get one over on the Elf. Only the tiniest hint of guilt ran through him when he realised how he had hurt the prince.

"This is the true course," Legolas said with renewed certainty that seemed ever so slightly forced to those who listened to him. "We must do what is best for the King."

Eomer sighed again. "And what about what is best for the rest of us? Or do we not matter at all?"

"Of course you all matter."

"Ah, yes, but you only really care about yourself and your king, don't you?" the Rohan man sneered without even really thinking about what he was saying. "You've already proven that and my men were the ones who paid the ultimate price."

Legolas had little doubt that Eomer was referring to the regretful events of Helm's Deep where so many men had lost their lives, an event that Eomer and probably many more still considered Legolas to be responsible for. That he would use it in an argument now was low. And Eomer knew that it was low.

Dropping his gaze, the Elf nodded. Rather than arguing any further though, Legolas then quietly got to his feet and simply walked slowly away from them all, not speaking another word.

Naturally surprised, Eomer opened his mouth to speak but he found that he didn't know what to say. He had not expected Legolas to simply retreat. It had never happened before. The Elf had always fought his corner.

"Well," Janor started after a while of tense silence, "that went well."

Although he did feel somewhat guilty for what he had said to Legolas, Eomer shrugged off the unwelcome feeling and said, "If he's not going to fight his corner…"

"Then I will," interrupted Aragorn.

Eomer looked up. He had not heard the boy's approach and had no clue how much he had heard although it seemed he'd heard plenty. "Aragorn, I…"

"We are going to Gondor," the young man stated, suddenly sounding very much like the king it was proclaimed he would be. "Either you are with us or against us. If you are to follow us then you will do so without further complaint, Commander."

Jecha got, with no hesitation, to his feet and announced, "We are with the King of Gondor." His companion also rose gracefully to his feet but simply nodded his agreement rather than speaking it.

The Rangers had been allies to the king pretty much from the moment they had accidentally stumbled across one another on Weathertop and Janor had no intention of going back on the promises Kinnale had made to the king and his guardian. So he too stood up and pledged allegiance to Aragorn.

"Eomer?" prompted Aragorn when the Rohan man remained unresponsive, sitting on the ground with an almost stubborn look on his features.

Mulling over his answer, the Commander found weighing up the options difficult. On the one hand, he wanted to trust Aragorn but he also feared going into Gondor, he feared what awaited him and his people there. He might have demanded more time but the pressure of Aragorn and Jecha both staring down at him expectantly proved too much and he finally nodded his assent.

"Very well," Eomer said, getting to his feet, setting his jaw in irritation, "It seems I have no choice in the matter."

"Your choice is simple. I suggest that you be certain of it."

Surprisingly it was Jecha who gave the warning and that riled Eomer a bit. The strange man barely knew him; what right did he have to judge him and manipulate him?

So, pulling himself up to his full impressive height in the hope of appearing even to match the intimidating posture of the Easterling, Eomer determinedly said, "I am certain. The…king will have the assistance of the Rohirrim." Cold green eyes turned accusingly on Aragorn as if he had somehow been to blame for the whole thing. "No matter what the outcome." With that, he stalked away, leaving the others to watch him go. At least that gave him some small amount of power, having the last word.

After a moment, Aragorn turned to the Easterlings, unlikely allies though he considered them to be, and sighed, "Thank you for your support."

Both Men nodded once, with calmness that Aragorn recognised as similar to that displayed by his mentor and that he had always considered to be a most enviable trait that he had never been able to master. Certainly, Legolas had never been able to teach it and he wondered fleetingly whether Jecha would consent to attempting that feat. He would not ask the other. The taciturn man still scared him somewhat. Even now after he had wordlessly pledged his allegiance, Aragorn flinched away from dark brown eyes staring unblinkingly at him.

"We support our king," Jecha said, repeating his favourite sentiment. He probably didn't realise that it always just made Aragorn feel uncomfortable.

"Well, thank you."

Already, Aragorn's gaze had drifted, searching for Legolas. It was fair to say that he had been disappointed when his trusted guardian had walked away from the fight. Seldom had he seen Legolas look quite so defeated. It was of great concern.

Before he could excuse himself though, Jecha stepped aside; a hint that he should go after Legolas. Smiling appreciatively, Aragorn did just that.

The day was cold, overcast and as Aragorn went in search of his guardian the rain started to fall, patchy at first then more miserably consistent. A steady rainfall brought a further damp chill to the air and Aragorn shivered and pulled his jacket more tightly around himself.

"It is not like you to walk away from a fight, especially with Eomer," Aragorn noted light-heartedly when he finally approached his guardian. Legolas was stood staring out over the misty plains and only acknowledged his ward with a slight tilt of his head. Joining Legolas, feeling somewhat awkward as he stood beside him, the young man asked, "What is wrong?"

"Nothing is wrong."

"No?"

"No."

"All right then."

Legolas glanced his way then for he knew that the insatiable curiosity of the boy would not be sated with such a vague answer. How well he had come to know his ward. It was a far cry from when he had no idea what to do with the chatty young boy he'd been entrusted with.

"Everything is fine, Aragorn. I simply tire of arguing with that man."

"Again, that doesn't sound like you." Frowning, Aragorn fixed his eyes upon the ground, busying his hands tugging at his frayed jacket sleeve. What he had to say was hard to admit, even harder to say out loud, partially because he feared Legolas would take offence. "Things have not been the same recently, have they?"

"How do you mean?"

"You…Do you wish you were…not here anymore?"

Finally looking up to his ward in full, Legolas asked, "What has prompted this question?"

"Just…" Aragorn shrugged uncertainly. "I don't know. It's just a feeling."

Avoidance had always been Legolas' failsafe. Avoiding thinking too hard on his home, on his lost family and friends had been the only thing that had kept him sane since the beginning of the War. Now, as Aragorn spoke the plain-to-see truth, Legolas realised that he did miss his life of simplicity when all he had to concern himself with was how to gather enough nutritious food from the devastated earth to survive. He had been pushing away that ashamedly embarrassing selfishness for the past few years though. For Aragorn he pushed away that dark part of himself. He owed it to the boy he'd been entrusted with to be a better person. And yet, he knew it would always be a part of his nature. He wanted to be alone, unburdened.

"Aragorn," Legolas sighed, first raking his fingers through his hair in despair and then abruptly turning on his ward and dragging him into a tight embrace. He held Aragorn fiercely to his chest, squeezing the unsuspecting boy as tightly as he dared. "I am sorry."

Truthfully, Aragorn was unsure whether to laugh or cry at the strangeness of this encounter. Perhaps, though, he had been expecting this for some time.

Legolas had never struck him as being particularly happy with their arrangement but the Elf had never openly said anything to him. Just lately though, as Aragorn had been relying on him less and less as they met more of Humankind, the Elf had been more distant, more unsettled than ever.

Convinced he may have been that this was no fault of his, Aragorn finally raised his own arms, and hugged his most trusted guardian back, and said in a choked voice, "I understand. It's all right." It did not sound entirely convincing, although Legolas held him tighter still. Trying to keep himself steady, Aragorn continued, "I would understand if you wanted to leave me now."

Even as he said it, the emotion conjured by the words slammed into the young man, stealing his breath from his body and his hands fisted around the back of Legolas' jacket at the pain this statement caused him. What would he do without his guide and guardian? It was almost unthinkable.

To Aragorn's immense surprise though, Legolas laughed at this suggestion.

"After all we have been through, the secrets we share, you think I would now just abandon you to your fate?"

In his guardian's embrace, Aragorn shrugged. "It might be the sensible thing."

"Where would I go?"

"I don't know. Back to the Old Forest Road maybe. Or you could return home."

Legolas let his eyes fall closed as the thought of home brought with it simultaneous blast of warmth and pain. Then he smiled again.

Pulling back and holding Aragorn firm at arm's length, the Elf smiled then raised his hand to gently brush a lock of long hair from where it had fallen over Aragorn's cheek only to become plastered to pale skin by tears.

"Nothing remains for me in the homes of the Elves." He tilted his head thoughtfully to one side, still looking into the watery grey depths of his ward's eyes. "My future lies with you. Maybe one day I will return to Rivendell to see how its lord and warden fare. But if I do it will be with the King Renewed."

Although Aragorn nodded in relief at this declaration, he asked, "And what of Eomer?"

"What of Eomer?"

"Will you at least try to be reasonable with him?" Aragorn sighed.

"See? Not even crowned king yet and you are already mediating disputes. There is hope for you yet," Legolas chuckled as he dragged Aragorn back into a hug.

OIOI

"Well, you have cast the die, Jecha. I hope you know what you are doing."

Looking to his companion, Jecha nodded slightly. "I do too. But you know that it is right. If the boy is to succeed then he will need all the help he can get. We owe it to him to give him that much."

"And if it leads to our own deaths?"

Jecha shrugged at this suggestion. "Then so be it." He glanced up then and there was a smile shining in his eyes. "Don't tell me that you are suddenly afraid of death."

Proud shoulders straightened even further and Jecha saw taut muscles flex ever so slightly beneath the fine fabric of scarlet robes. It seemed he had offended his companion. "I do not fear death. You know this, Jecha."

"Of course, sir."

"I merely meant to imply that this is a great task we are undertaking and with a people who might not necessarily view our lives as worthy of protection."

Jecha sighed at this; he knew what his companion meant. "You speak of the Elf."

"We have been here mere hours and already Eomer's people have been speaking of the Prince Legolas with open hostility."

"There was an incident in Rohan, so I have learned. Legolas pretty much walked them into a trap; a show of strength to the Shadow."

"Commendable."

"In your eyes, perhaps. But the people do not seem pleased over the decision."

"When will people realise that in war sacrifices must be made."

Scoffing at this, Jecha pointed out, "Which is fine until the sacrifice looks likely to be you."

They paused in their conversation as a man from Rohan walked past them. It didn't seem right to be speaking of such things, even when the subject matter was disguised by their own language. Once the interruption had passed though, Jecha continued, "We have discussed this before. You told me to take the side of the king when we got rid of that snake Grima."

"Indeed. The thought of those slimy hands holding the Palantir turned my stomach. I would rather see the sphere in the hands of the king."

"Where you can keep an eye on it?"

"It is indeed a wonderful asset. The boy does not know yet," Sonal said cryptically, looking out over the quiet camp.

"Legolas does though. He's not letting that thing out of his sight again, not after Grima."

"No. But that suits us well, Jecha. At least in his care, the Palantir is unlikely to be abandoned. It appears he is the only one who recognises that."

"Perhaps then he would do well to speak of this to the king?" suggested Jecha.

"Unlikely."

"Why?"

"Because the Elf understands what the king does not yet."

"And what is that?"

"That sometimes one must embrace the Shadow in order to beat it."

Jecha followed Sonal's gaze over the camp. Things were quiet still but he could feel that there was a change coming. The air was singing with the promise of excitement. He both looked forward to it and dreaded it. Things were so unpredictable. That, he supposed, was both a blessing and a curse. As usual, patience would win through. Soon enough they would know what their course would be.

To Be Continued…