CHAPTER 3. A SOMBER TRAVELLER
Arwen stormed back to the White Tower, ignoring the looks of shock and alarm on many faces at seeing their queen running in such an undignified manner through the streets. She glided up the stairs (even her raging temper not hindering her natural Elvish grace) and found Aragorn standing solemnly in their personal quarters.
"Estel, what was that?" she asked, using her husband's Elvish name but uttering it in an uncharacteristically brusque manner.
He merely shook his head slowly, gazing blankly out of the window at the city.
"Is it true, what Legolas said about you insulting his kin?" Arwen probed.
Aragorn grimaced, a look of pain flittering across his noble face.
"Yes." he murmured, ashamed. "I... yes."
Arwen pursed her lips impatiently.
"What did you say?" she urged, as though speaking to a small child.
Aragorn hesitated, before reluctantly replying. "I said that the allegiance of the Elves no longer meant as much as it once did. That they were a fading race, and no longer as much use to us as allies."
"Estel," Arwen quipped. "Did it not occur to you that, not only are they Legolas' people, but my people, also? And your family's?"
The king gaped at her. "Arwen, I am so sorry, it did not even occur to-"
"It is not I to whom you owe your apologies." Arwen interrupted. "But unfortunately the one who does deserve it had left the city!"
Aragorn hung his head, and sat down upon the edge of the bed, his body language showing defeat.
"So he has truly left?" he said quietly.
"Of course he has, you saw him leave as well as I!" she replied hotly. "I do not blame him. He is a prince amongst his people, and you insulted them. He had every right to leave. And besides, you are lucky to have had his counsel, of late! Have you no idea of your friend's humility in recent weeks?"
Aragorn stared at his wife blankly.
"You have not exactly been easy to handle of recent. We all understand the strain you are under, of course," she added quickly, as Aragorn opened his mouth to protest. "But, perhaps unknowingly, you have placed much of your burden upon Legolas, though it was not his to bear."
The king shook his head. "Please, Arwen, do not speak in riddles: what have I done? Clearly I have been ignorant to this."
"Think back to your visit a few weeks back, to the southern provinces." she prompted slowly.
Aragorn paused momentarily, before his eyes widened as he recalled the situation.
Faramir, Legolas and Aragorn were chatting quietly about their plans for the audience, when they arrived at the edge of the small city. Legolas was in high spirits, even more so than usual, for he had requested to accompany his friend in one of his exchanges, and had finally been permitted to do so. The people in the streets muttered as the King of Gondor's company rode forth through the town, though he noted that their whispering seemed alarmed rather than pleased at the presence of their leader.
"Faramir, what is the matter?" Aragorn asked quietly of his steward, who rode alongside him.
"I do not know, my lord." he replied, brow furrowed.
The company rode forth, through the town, until they reached the meeting house. Dismounting to greet the dignitaries with which he had come to speak, the king observed that they, too, appeared unnerved.
"Welcome, King Elessar Telecontar." called one of the dignitaries, somewhat nervously. "We are overjoyed by your presence. Your travels have been long and tiring, no doubt: come and make yourself comfortable."
He led the way towards the meeting house, followed by Aragorn, Faramir and Legolas, whilst the guard stayed back to care for the horses. Aragorn was glad of this; perhaps the people in this city were unaccustomed to visitors bearing arms, even if they were there to protect their king, hence their initial unease.
The dignitary stopped suddenly outside the doors to the meeting house, and turned sternly to face the king.
"My lord, we wish not to offend you or your company, but I must insist that the Elf stay outside." He requested, eying Legolas with apprehension.
"Excuse me?" Faramir asked in confusion, beating Aragorn to the question whilst Legolas raised his eyebrows in surprise.
"This is a town of Men; we do not welcome Elves." the dignitary stated tensely.
"And why not?" Legolas snapped, causing the man to jump back a few steps in alarm.
"We have had quarrels with his kind in the past, and we do not easily forget our histories. We do not welcome Elves here." he repeated, slightly timidly.
"This is ridiculous, he is of no harm." Aragorn said impatiently.
"My lord, I must insist." the leader said firmly. "The Elf is not to enter the meeting house. In fact, we would all be far more at ease if it left the vicinity of the city-"
"It?" Legolas said angrily, eyes flashing with fury. "It? I am an Elf, not a horse!"
The Elf and the dignitary quarreled angrily, each unwilling to comply to the other's guidelines. Eventually, despite Aragorn and Faramir's attention, the group of town leaders had come to consensus.
"Perhaps this is not the most opportune moment for our conclave." the head dignitary said finally. "You may return at another time, my lord... But without the Elf."
And with that, the king and his company were unceremoniously escorted to outside the boundaries of the city.
"What idiocy!" Faramir exclaimed, frowning furiously as the townspeople closed the gates behind them. "Not allowing an Elf into the city, because of quarrels hundreds of years ago. Such madness is unheard of!"
But Aragorn was beyond reason with anger. He had cancelled a week's worth of urgent commitments to attend the council with the southern leaders, and after days of riding had simply been turned around and sent back.
"Why did you insist on coming?" he snarled at Legolas, glaring at him. "You know your histories well enough - you should have foreseen this!"
Legolas opened his mouth to protest, before shutting it, unwilling to shift the blame, even if it fell so unfairly upon himself.
"Well? What have you to say to that?" he said loudly, interpreting the Elf's silence as cowardice as opposed to humility.
"I-I am s-sorry, Aragorn." Legolas stammered. "I meant not for this to happen."
"You are naught but a hindrance here; go back to your own people, and burden them with your stupidity." Aragorn snapped in reply, turning away.
Aragorn moaned in horror, as he realized the cruelty of his own words. His features contorted with misery once more, and he put his head in his hands.
"I am a fool, a fool!" he moaned to himself. "They were meaningless words said in the heat of the moment. I did not mean to hurt him so."
"I know, Aragorn, I know." Arwen sighed, and seeing her husband's distress her voice instinctively became comforting. "But even if they were said impulsively, it does not erase the fact that they were said."
"I am well aware of that fact." Aragorn said, before laughing bitterly. "It is strange - if such an argument were to arise between myself and anyone else, Legolas' counsel would be the first I would seek."
Arwen smiled sadly. "He is a loyal friend to you, Estel, and your bond is closer than any other I have ever seen. He is like a brother to you, and you to him. He would not have left his home in the Greenwood to serve in your realm if it were otherwise. But even one with wisdom and integrity such as Legolas' cannot be expected to withstand such harsh criticisms, especially unfounded ones."
"I must ride after him." Aragorn said suddenly, standing bolt upright and glancing towards the door. "I must beg him for my forgiveness-"
"No." Arwen cut across sharply. "You will never catch him. Even with Gimli he can ride faster than any Man, and attempting to chase him will just anger you both. He needs time, and space to think. Allow him that."
Aragorn yearned with every fibre of his being to chase after him, to track his friend down and set things right; but could see the truth in Arwen's words, and knew that to ensue Legolas on horseback was like trying to catch smoke with bare hands. He stared out of the window once more, peering at the horizon in the hope that Legolas could ever find it in himself to forgive him.
~~~{###}~~~
Legolas and Gimli exchanged barely a word for hours on end. Gimli could sense the Elf's anguish as clearly as he could see his sorrowful pose, and asked no questions regarding their sudden departure. He knew that his inquiries would do nothing to resolve his misery, whatever the cause of it may be, and so instead he put all of his focus into attempting to remain secured on the horse's back (a feat not easily performed by a Dwarf such as himself).
They crossed miles of flat grassland, putting a great deal of distance between them and the city. The ground beneath their steed's feet rose and fell gradually, and it seemed that they were riding for no other purpose than to escape Minas Tirith. Gimli began to question their route; they had discussed it, of course, but only briefly, and they had not made certain of anything.
"Legolas," Gimli called, above the roar of wind caused by their speed. "Perhaps we should stop and plan. Our path is uncertain, and I would have much peace of mind if we halted for a moment to properly navigate."
"Plan?" he repeated vaguely. "Yes, I suppose we should discuss that."
He slowed the horse to a stop, and dismounted gracefully before helping Gimli down. The Dwarf stumbled uncomfortably to the ground and collapsed there, wincing.
"My apologies, I had forgotten that you are not used to this means of travel!" Legolas gasped, seeing his friend's discomfort. "I am so sorry. We have ridden for hours without rest, you must be aching-"
"I've felt worse." Gimli interrupted gruffly. "In any case, we did not stop for me - we need to plan our route. There is no point in aimlessly riding without bearings or direction."
"Never a truer word has been spoken." Legolas agreed. "As for the route: what is your opinion?"
"Firstly, I suggest we continue northwest, via Edoras." Gimli stated.
Legolas nodded. "I am in agreement. I greatly wish to visit Éomer and his Men. They were strong comrades in battle, and should remain so in times of peace. But Edoras is at least two days ride away."
"We can make camp in the mountains. There are suitable caves aplenty in this area." Gimli suggested.
"I am not certain about traveling past the White Mountains, let alone camping in them." Legolas contradicted. "I have heard many a tale about encounters there which we certainly do not wish to recreate."
"Old wives' tales, I assure you!" dismissed Gimli carelessly.
Legolas pursed his lips. "I am not so certain."
"We have travelled the White Mountains before, without any such predicaments." Gimli pointed out. "We walked the Paths of the Dead, and emerged alive to tell the tale!"
"We were with... we were with Aragorn." Legolas replied hesitantly, his voice strained. He cleared his throat dismissively. "I merely mean to say that there were more than two of us. We had the Dúnedain, a company of thirty Rangers of the North."
"I just think that, Aragorn or no, we can handle the mountains. And if any trouble should befall us, we have the Mirkwood realm's best bowman to ensure our safety." Gimli announced, throwing in the compliment in a feeble attempt to raise his friend's spirits. It did little to help; the Elf merely stared at him solemnly.
"If you are so certain, than we shall go by your route. I have much trust in you." he stated finally.
"Excellent." Gimli boomed, excessively enthusiastically in the slight hope that his cheerfulness would catch on. "And then, if we continue northwest we will soon enough come to Helm's Deep, which is the quickest way to reach the Glittering Caves. Then we need simply travel further north to reach the Fangorn Forest."
"Indeed, if that is the route you would have us take." Legolas said indifferently.
"It is." Gimli stated firmly. "So let us ride on. This Dwarf has a few more hours in him yet."
Legolas and Gimli remounted and rode on, again in silence, until the sky grew dark and the stars shone above their heads. The night barely slowed them, however, and they decided to stop and rest only when they happened across a small cavern at the base of the mountains. Despite Gimli's sniggering, Legolas insisted on lighting a torch and searching the cave to ensure it was free of unwanted habitants.
"Is this really necessary?" the Dwarf asked, amused. "These are not the Misty Mountains, you know. There are no Orcs or goblins in these hills."
"Perhaps not, but there are worse things than creatures such as those." he muttered quietly in reply, striding ahead to examine the cavern's entirety. "I wish to rest without any hindering queries about the security of my location."
"Fine, fine." Gimli murmured indifferently, allowing Legolas to search the cave if it gave him peace of mind.
"The cave is clear." he announced a few minutes later, after thorough examination.
"I am glad to hear it." Gimli replied, his voice laden with sarcasm. "Now, if there is no more searching or riding to be done, I shall take my rest."
With that, he curled up on the hard stone floor, and fell asleep within moments. Legolas shook his head in amazement. Only a Dwarf could rest on a cave floor as easily as a feather quilt, he thought with amusement.
Legolas stepped quietly out of the cave to check once more that their horse was secured. He tied the reins around a small tree nearby, making sure the knot was tight to ensure the creature would not wander off whilst they slept.
Arod whinnied suddenly, stamping at the ground in distress. The Elf placed a slender hand on the animal's muzzle, murmuring reassuringly in Sindarin. Yet he himself felt suddenly unnerved.
Legolas spun around quickly, almost expecting to see himself surrounded by attackers. But the wind merely blew lazily, and not a stone was out of place at the cave's entrance. However, the Elf's keen senses were not fooled: high up above him, on a rocky ledge far out of view of any Man, was a pair of eyes.
The Elf had no sooner snatched up his bow than an arrow went whistling skyward. The eyes disappeared from view, the arrow missing narrowly and clattering as it collided with stone.
Legolas scowled angrily. We are no longer alone, he thought unhappily. My suspicions, it seems, have come to be more than the mere ramblings of a paranoid Elf.
He stared up at the rocky cliffs above him, considering the hundreds of places in which a scout could hide unnoticed in these mountains. It had been the precise reason why he had not wanted to travel alongside them, but he did not want to discourage his friend by voicing too many of his concerns.
Nor do I want to alarm the Dwarf, Legolas realized suddenly, picturing Gimli sleeping tranquilly in the cave just feet away. I cannot tell him about this. He will fret, and it will ruin the exploration of his beloved Glittering Caves.
Legolas peered around once more, his bow still held poised in his arms and ready to shoot at a second's notice. He saw nothing more, though, and relaxed his stance. He stroked the horse comfortingly one more time, before re-entering the cave.
He placed his bow down beside him (ready to be snatched up in a moment, if need be), and grabbed a blanket out from his pack. He strew it carelessly onto the cave floor, before laying down on top of it, mind still racing at his encounter just moments ago.
Legolas glanced over at Gimli, who was fast asleep, an undisturbed expression on his face.
No, I will not tell him, Legolas told himself firmly. He is at peace; I wish for him to remain so.
That night, the Elf slept uneasily, his head swimming with the image of a pair of eyes, growing ever closer.