Hey kksambo don't be an asshole I have a lot of shit to do
Aragorn said nothing to wake her; she jumped into a sitting position with the lightest touch to her shoulder. He gave her a bewildered look.
She nodded as quickly as she could, bleary-eyed, and pulled herself to her feet once she registered the movement around her. She nodded again, unable to form words. The night had been long and restless. Ever since she had told Aragorn and Gimli the night before about the anticipation heavy in the air, her mind had been whirring. She could feel herself slowly toeing the threshold of dreaming all night, and had woken herself up to prevent it at least eight or nine began to gather her things and wondered offhandedly if there was even any point in avoiding it. After all, just because she saw into the darkness did not mean that the darkness saw also into her.
Dismally, she pulled herself astride her horse, grateful to see that Aragorn, who walked beside his horse with Éowyn, Gimli, and the rest of their small party sans Legolas, had waited for her to do so before beginning forward. Today was their last and slowest day on the road; Miraleth could see the unforgiving walls of Helms Deep in the distance and found herself nearly brought to tears by the thought of even the most flea-infested of straw mattresses. Ahead of them at the front of the long, slow-moving mass of people, a glint of golden hair in the morning sunlight caught her eye, and she fought a pout as Legolas leapt up onto a pile of boulders and back down again before breaking out into a jog, spry and untiring as ever. Unbelievable.
King Théoden trotted up next to her, looking more haggard than the day before. "Good rest, Lady Miraleth?"
"No complaints, my lord." She quirked her brow when he broke out in a smile, but said nothing of his own apparent fatigue.
By midday, the ride was going painfully slow and just as uneventful until Miraleth overheard Éowyn ask her Northern Ranger where he had gotten the jewel over his sternum. Miraleth looked over her shoulder just in time to hear Aragorn's response, and to see Éowyn and her pretty yellow hair wilt in the face of Arwen Undómiel. Pity gnawed at the pit of Miraleth's stomach.
By midafternoon, however, the gnawing sensation in her gut had not dissipated and when the first breeze of the day made waves in the grass, her skin began to crawl.
"…and anyways, that's when I told that bastard he better get his filthy hands off those butterflies or I'd—eh? Something the matter, lass?" Gimli paused his story when Miraleth stopped her horse in its tracks. She had turned over her shoulder briefly to scan the horizon of the grasslands, her face stony and bumps still rising on her arms. There was nothing there.
"Miraleth?" She heard Aragorn, but only through a film of air that was too, too thick. She frowned.
"It's nothing," she murmured, turning back to rejoin the group. "I didn't sleep well last night."
"After you were so anxious to get some rest? Do you feel alright?" Éowyn's face shifted in concern.
Miraleth did not say that she hadn't slept well the night before they left Edoras either. She had not wanted that fact to surface, but two days without sleep was beginning to wear on her. "I'll be feeling better once we get to Helms Deep," she admitted. "Something about these plains is…" Wrong.
"Is what, Miraleth?"
After a moment, she shrugged off her shivers and focused on the throng of people around them and the shortening distance between their party and Helms Deep. "I am not one for the plains, is all."
"This is a very safe road," Théoden promised. "We used to travel it often, you know. It has never brought us danger."
"I am sure," Miraleth allowed, smiling politely. But these are not safe times, King Théoden, and you are a fool of a man to think so. "I think I will—" Go find Legolas and ask him what he thought about the plains, she was about to say, but she was cut off by a series of yells and snarls ahead of the party. Her frown deepened. "Aragorn."
"Stay here." Without another word, he handed Éowyn the reins to his horse and ran ahead to where Miraleth could see Legolas nocking an arrow and leaping off an overpass.
"That sounds like Háma." Théoden dug his heels into his horse and began to follow, leaving Miraleth, Gimli, and Éowyn to anxiously stand by. The man's screaming had stopped, but the snarls continued and Miraleth's horse began to snort uneasily.
"A scout!" She heard Legolas shout to Aragorn, who turned and sprinted back to meet Théoden. "Warg!" Aragorn shouted as he ran for his horse. "We're under attack!"
Panic took root in the women and children around them, and members of the party began to shriek and cry as they turned back towards Edoras. Miraleth, in her worsening exhaustion, couldn't tell what was going on; she blinked and was vaguely aware of Aragorn taking his horse's reins from Éowyn, riding off as Éowyn tried to keep the other under control. Théoden called for all riders to the front of the column, and Gimli demanded to be put up on a horse, shakily and stubbornly making his way there without a second glance back. Barking and snarling sounds grew in the distance, and Miraleth turned her excited horse on Éowyn as she tried to clear her head. "You have a blade?"
"What?"
"Do you have a blade?!" The screaming around them continued, and just as Miraleth was about to draw one of Arwen's blades to force into Éowyn's hands, the girl raised her chin and dove into one of her saddlebags, returning with a two-handed sword of her own.
"Come on," Éowyn yelled over the din to Miraleth as she prepared to mount the horse Aragorn had left her. "We have to help!"
"Éowyn!" Théoden was there, suddenly. "Put that away. You must lead the people to Helms Deep. And make haste!"
"I can fight!"
"No!" Théoden lowered his voice for his niece, his face pleading. "You must do this. For me." Éowyn had no response but for the softening of her features. "Take Lady Miraleth with you. Lead our people to safety." He raised his voice and shouted for all riders to follow him before riding for the front.
Éowyn had a rather strangled look on her face and she turned to Miraleth, who was glaring at Théoden's back with barely concealed distaste and half a mind to ride into battle anyways, his orders be damned. Instead, she nodded at Éowyn. Aragorn, Gimli, and Legolas could take care of themselves. "I'm right behind you," she promised. When Éowyn turned away to gather the women and children, Miraleth made to go after Théoden, who was making his way around the small group of riders he had summoned up.
"My lord!" She shouted as she caught up to him. "My lord!"
"You should be with Éowyn." He shot her a glance.
"My lord, now is our chance to turn back to Edoras. This is Saruman's doing. If he found us on this road, he knows where we're headed."
"Lady Miraleth—"
"Continuing to Helms Deep is a mistake," she interjected, this time more forcibly. "My lord," she added.
"It is not your place to make such decisions for me," he hissed. He rode for the barks and snarls once more, forcing her to follow.
"My Lord Théoden, I have Seen your fortress and its stone walls were soaked in the blood of your people!"
"I do not intend for that to happen!" he thundered. "You will go with Éowyn and accompany her to Helms Deep. You will keep her safe. You will not question me again."
"My lord—!"
"Miraleth!"
Someone shouted.
She turned; something cracked against the side of her head.
There was darkness.
When she opened her eyes, pain exploded behind them. She screwed them shut instantly with a gasp, raising a hand to her temple. Something was dried and crusted over her skin. In her hair, too.
"M'lady?" An old woman's voice floated on the air. Some shuffling sounds, fabric rustling. "Berda, the Lady Éowyn…"
"Éowyn," Miraleth whispered, voice cracking. She was supposed to keep her safe.
"Hush now, dear, I've just sent for her. Here." The mystery benefactor held a goblet to Miraleth's lips. Miraleth drank a sip before backing away, shaking her head. Wine.
"Water," she murmured.
"I have water, Miraleth." Someone new bustled into the room. Éowyn. Another goblet was placed into Miraleth's hands, and she drank from this one greedily. When the last drop was drained, she opened her eyes again, slowly this time. Éowyn came into focus at last, cheeks pink with activity and hair tied back into a messy knot. Her sleeves were rolled to the elbow. Next to her stood a small, old woman and a girl Éowyn's age. The girl's eyes were wide as she observed Miraleth, but the old woman immediately busied herself, pressing the back of her hand to Miraleth's forehead, who jumped at the unexpected contact.
"How do you feel? Sick? Tired? I'm afraid I don't have anything to give for the pain…"
Miraleth shook her head. "No, no. I feel fine. Thank you," She added as the woman brought a candle to her face, dragging one of her eyelids down and peering at the pupil. Miraleth frowned.
"Mm." The woman leaned away and pulled herself to her feet with a cane. "That will do. There doesn't seem to be any lasting damage. Berda, bring the towels." She clicked her tongue before hobbling away to another cot. Miraleth noticed the room was full of them, some of them occupied and others made up with white sheets. The girl with the wide eyes peeped out a yes ma'am and gathered up an armful, curtsying quickly to Éowyn and then to Miraleth before following the old woman.
Miraleth dragged herself into a sitting position, ignoring the pounding in her head. Éowyn handed her a pitcher of water and a rag to clean the dried blood away from her temple. "We are in Helms Deep," Miraleth stated quietly and she began to do so.
"Yes," Éowyn agreed. "My uncle told me what you said. Is it true?"
"Is what true?"
"That you have Seen the walls of Helms Deep soaked with blood."
Miraleth was quiet for a moment, continuing to dab at her temple. The water in the pitcher was turning the color of rust. "Yes. In Edoras. Saruman showed it to me the day Gandalf broke his spell. But," She added when Éowyn's face pale. "Not everything I See comes to pass."
Éowyn nodded. "My uncle is stubborn, I know. But I believe he will protect his kingdom."
Miraleth began to comb water through her hair. "I believe you are very loyal, Lady Éowyn." Éowyn nodded, a slight smile on her lips. "So King Théoden is here, then. They made it back."
Éowyn froze, her smile fading away. She looked down. "A stray orc hit you over the head with a club. My uncle had a rider bring you back to where I was leading the women and children." She sat herself down slowly in a chair across from Miraleth's cot, lacing her hands together in her lap. "We put you in a wagon and brought you here with us. You have only been asleep for a matter of hours, it is not yet nightfall."
Miraleth studied Éowyn, something falling in her stomach. She swallowed. "I asked if…if they made it back, Éowyn."
When the fair Lady Éowyn found the strength to look up at Miraleth, there were tears trailing from her ocean eyes.
Miraleth strode down the stone hallway angrily, her steps small but quick, clenching and unclenching her small fist as she took the twists and turns Éowyn had instructed her to take to find Gimli and Legolas. She couldn't believe she thought he could take care of himself. When she finally got to the brown wooden door, she threw it open and stormed inside, paying no attention to the unrelenting pounding in her head nor the ten or so men of Rohan who were crowded around a table inside, but turning immediately to where Legolas and Gimli sat on a bed attending to their weapons; Legolas was making arrow fletchings and Gimli polished his axe. Both nearly dropped their respective activities at Miraleth's arrival. She came to a stop before them, crossing her arms and setting her jaw. "Where is Aragorn?"
Gimli was the first to break the silence in the room with a loud, exaggerated breath. "Thank the gods, lass! How's the head? We saw you go down and were afraid you'd be a halfwit when you woke up.
Legolas stood. "Miraleth…"
She jabbed a finger into his chest, but he did not budge. "You…" She didn't even know where to start with Legolas. This was the first time she had seen him since he had left her room in Edoras, and while she could feel a mass of feelings about that bubbling in her veins, she pushed it aside for the moment. "Where is Aragorn?"
Even the men around the table on the other side of the room had gone quiet. Legolas gently pushed her hand from his chest. "Miraleth," He was soft. Soft skin, soft voice, soft eyes. For Miraleth, he was soft, always.
Her jaw tightened. "Where is Aragorn, Legolas?" She didn't think any amount of soft could calm her down now, but even as she stood there simmering, her shoulders relaxed and her heart slowed. She felt okay, even, and—
No. "Where is he, Legolas?" She demanded, her voice rising, shoving him in the shoulder. Her chin began to quiver.
"Aragorn lannas," he murmured.
"He…" Miraleth shook her head quickly, stepping back. "He fell, what do you mean he fell?"
"Over a cliff." Gimli's voice was low and gruff; this was one of the first times she had ever heard sorrow in it. "I'm sorry, lass."
"Over a cliff onto what?" It was a demand, not a question.
"Miraleth—"
"Onto what? Rocks? Water? Trees? What?"
Legolas sighed. "Water."
One of the men behind her spoke up timidly. "We all saw it happen, m'lady."
Miraleth spun on him and the men around the table swore a wind blew through the room. "Did I ask you a question, Harulf, son of Harund?"
Harulf, son of Harund, paled and shrank in his chair. "Please accept my deepest and most sincere apologies, m'lady."
Miraleth spun back towards Legolas and Gimli. "He fell into the water, then?"
"It was a long drop, Miraleth."
"But he fell uninjured."
"…Yes."
Miraleth took a breath, uncrossed her arms. "Clumsy boy," she grumbled. "I don't know what you're sitting here mourning for, he'll be fine," she snapped, turning on her heel and walking out of the room. She heard Legolas and Gimli scramble to follow her.
"I'm not sure you understand, Miraleth." Gimli sounded uncertain. "When we say he fell, we mean…he fell."
She strode along the stone walkways, not quite sure where she was going but just knowing that she needed to be moving. Everywhere she looked, there were refugees from throughout Rohan; children and men and women, and wagons of supplies that hadn't been catalogued yet. All of them stopped what they were doing to watch her pass, and some even moved out of the way for her with a murmured m'lady.
"Miraleth, uig lasto nin. Lasto." Miraleth felt his hand reach out and grab her shoulder, and she spun to face him.
"Û, Legolas, le lasto nin." She glared at him and Gimli. "The both of you. Do you think a little fall into a pond would dare finish Aragorn, son of Arathorn, King of Gondor? Please." She rolled her eyes. "He'll be fine."
Legolas and Gimli exchanged a glance. "If the fall didn't kill him, he'll wash up on a distant shore and—"
"And make his way here because he knows that we need him here," she finished for Legolas. Her eyes became gentle as her voice lowered. "If anyone were to survive that and make their way home, it would be Aragorn." She reached out and placed a dirty palm on Legolas' chest. "You know that."
Gimli stared at the two elves before him, wondering if that staring business was going to end anytime soon. He observed them, then, the way Legolas, for all his silence and broodiness over Miraleth for the past few days, couldn't seem to look away from her, and the way Miraleth touching him on the chest was the most natural looking thing he'd seen her do all day. Legolas' whole body pointed towards her. The lass was like a magnet. "Uhhhhhhhhh," Gimli struggled for a way out of the situation. When neither elf paid him any attention, he took a slow step back. "I'm just…going to go...find something to do. Anything. To do." Still nothing. "Don't kill each other," he added before turning on his heel and waddling away, checking over his shoulder as he got further away to see if either of them had moved. They hadn't.
"Gimli is gone," Legolas pointed out once he was out of sight.
"I see that," Miraleth said. She lowered her hand from his chest, and as if a spell had been broken, began to breathe deeply again. Legolas, feeling as if he was breaking the surface of an ocean, stepped back and away from Miraleth. "Aragorn will be fine," she went on.
Legolas regarded her with a familiar half-smile. "I hope you're right."
She hoped she was too.
They stood silently in the middle of the walkway for a moment, eyes shifting downward and away from each other.
"I'm sorry about the other day."
"Where have you been?"
They spoke at the same time and then stopped, giving the other a chance to speak but neither taking it, instead choosing to awkwardly stand before each other without speaking. Miraleth repeated herself, more gently this time. "Where have you been?"
"Scouting," Legolas answered.
"For two days? Even Háma settled down once we made camp last night." In fact, all the riders and guards had rested at some point or other, a handful of them taking perimeter shifts during the night. But Legolas had simply seemed to have disappeared altogether. "You said you would find us."
"I know. I'm sorry, Miraleth."
"Why didn't you?"
Legolas almost couldn't stand to look at her, she was so painstaking. Because my hands shake when I touch you, he wanted to say. Because sometimes when I look at you I can't look anywhere else. "I couldn't sleep," he replied instead. "I took a walk."
She stared at him. "You…took a walk."
"Yes."
"Must have been quite a walk."
"I didn't want to keep everyone awake."
Miraleth sighed, suddenly feeling very, very tired. "Legolas, where were you, really? I—" She stopped short, not quite sure what she was going to say.
"You what?"
"I…" She had wanted him there. Because…why? Why exactly had she wanted him there? What could she say? She was a fully functioning individual unit, after all, and hardly needed Legolas by her side at all hours of the day. "I couldn't sleep either," she finally said lamely.
Legolas studied her. Her eyes were downcast, fixed on the toes of his boots, and she seemed to be struggling with something. Her lips were set in a line and her brow was just starting to furrow. "Was there something else, Miraleth?" He knew he shouldn't have asked her. He couldn't talk to her honestly. Not now. Not like this. Not when he couldn't think clearly.
Miraleth, meanwhile, was thinking at a million miles per second, but couldn't, for the life of her, come to a conclusion over why she was having so much trouble speaking to her dearest friend. She spotted the fingers on his right hand twitching; he was anxious. I could grab his hand right now, she thought. I could grab it and then I would know what he's thinking. Just as quickly as the thought came to her, she cast it away, cheeks burning. She had never, not once in her long years of life, ever come to the point of truly, deliberately invading someone's privacy in such a way. Well, a small voice inside her pointed out. You could always…ask him about it.
"No," she nearly whispered. "No, there wasn't anything else."
He nodded numbly, knowing she was lying but not sure what to do about it considering he was doing the same. He was struck also suddenly by an image of an angered Elrohir and Elladan holding sharp weapons. He swallowed. "Well," His mouth was dry. "I should go find Gimli. He doesn't always get along famously with the men. I will see you at supper, Miraleth." And with that, he turned away from her and forced his feet to take steps, clenching his hands into fists so they would not reach out and touch her hair.
Aragorn lannas — Aragorn fell
Miraleth, uig lasto nin. Lasto. — Miraleth, you are not listening to me. Listen.
Û, Legolas, le lasto nin. — No, Legolas, you listen to me.
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