~ Three Broken Hearts ~
Legolas couldn't find her amidst the dismounting Lorien elves and their mounts. He stalked through the ranks, searching the faces hidden beneath the hooded cloaks, searching for a creamy horse with a cascading tail of Autumn leaves. Searched for a copper spark, searched for her eyes, her tumultuous eyes which had cut through him with her own pain. The pain which now echoed in him.
His search was in vain, she did not wish to be found by him and his heart tore bitterly. They should have remained in Gondor, remained with Aragorn and Gimli. How dare his father suddenly deign to give his consent that he could be with Tauriel! What cruel joke was this? Why Tauriel, when he had refused to confide in him the identity of Aerlaer all those years ago. What does he play at? Does he enjoy making the hearts of others miserable? Legolas felt a hand on his shoulder and spun around in annoyance. His face softened as he realised it was Haldir.
"Mellon nin, what have I done?" He asked dejectedly and Haldir gave him a sympathetic smile.
"Nothing Legolas, you have done nothing wrong. You know Aerlaer, she will calm and then you will be able to speak with her." Haldir reassured, but he was not so sure.
"Will she truly? She is furious and hurt. I feel like I have betrayed her love." He replied and Haldir looked at him carefully.
"Have you?" He asked quietly and Legolas felt sickened by the very thought. "No, or have I?" He sighed in confusion. "There was a time I thought I might have loved Tauriel, but it was only that, a thought. And she did not reciprocate the feelings I thought I had. I know not why she does now. But my heart has always truly been Aerlaer's, it beats for her alone." He said quietly and Haldir nodded.
"I think you better explain this to Aerlaer, when she has slightly calmed." The Marchwarden advised, and Legolas looked at him with disbelief. He really doubted Aerlaer was going to forgive this. The pain in her eyes was haunting his mind, the look of betrayal...
"She loves you. She has always loved you and this will not change that. You will see, by eve she will be by your side again." Haldir reassured and mutely Legolas nodded. All he wanted was her back by his side. Already he felt the other sea slowly seeping in from the edges of his mind like a tide slowly, slowly coming in.
"Come we must set up camp so we may discuss our strategy with the Mirkwood elves." The older elf said and nodding, Legolas followed him back to the front of the contingent to Arod, where Elrohir and Elladen were finishing unpacking their two mares.
Elrohir glared angrily at him as he returned and then stalked away. Elladan watched him with a mixture of sadness and annoyance and followed his brother.
…
The spacious tent Thranduil had his soldiers set up as a makeshift headquarters was now full of elves gathered around a detailed map of the forest and surrounding fields and streams and Dol Guldur. Along with an old, detailed map of the city while it had been commanded by his father, Oropher. The air was tense, electric from the emotions running high from the young elves seated in the tent upon logs which had been arranged around in a circle around the map.
Legolas refused to look at him from across the circle. He was now a stark contrast to the elf who had strode proudly and lightly to greet him. Now he looked broody as he continuingly let his eyes drift towards the elleth who sat to his left in the circle, the two Elrondion elves on either side of her. The ever so slightly leaner of the two, Elrohir, he assumed, was sending scathing looks towards Legolas, which in turn caused his son to drop his eyes away from the Princess and return to observing the map spread out on the ground before them all.
On one side stood the Lorien Marchwarden who looked decidedly sympathetic towards his son's cause and on the other, one of his own guards Legolas used to command who now commanded his own group of guards, Ceredir, who was openly gazing upon Aerlaer in enchantment. Upon the log next to him sat Tauriel, beside Fael.
The flame haired elleth focussed intently on the maps before them, but he could feel the sadness and confusion radiating off her as she tried to avoid the gazes of the Lothlorien elves. Interestingly, one of the Lorien elves, who looked similar in appearance to the Marchwarden, looked decidedly smug about something as his eyes drifted from the maps to Legolas, and then Aerlaer, then Tauriel, and back again.
Aerlaer sat upon her log, regal and aloof to all else in the room, her eyes bright and dangerous as she studied the maps, ignoring all. Yet her demeanour dared any of them to speak with her as she cast her eyes around the room. Thranduil noted she didn't look towards Legolas and when her eyes glanced over Tauriel, they darkened, and her hair sparked copper before dimming down again. Nearby sat Celeborn and Galadriel, the Lady of Lorien had an amused smile playing on her lips and Thranduil wondered just what she knew.
He held in a sigh and began to address them all.
"We are all gathered here in one common cause. To extinguish the darkness and evil which still plagues the west of the Greenwood and its surrounding lands. Thrice the forces of Dol Guldur have launched cunning and dangerous attacks upon both of our lands under the Nazgul Kamal. The ring has been destroyed and he has fallen with it along with the other wraiths upon its demise." He said and Legolas abruptly stood.
"You are incorrect. One wraith was destroyed by the Lady Eowyn of Rohan and now Gondor, with the aid of Peregrin Took, a Hobbit of the Shire. The other eight were destroyed by the Princess Aerlaer, with the aid of the Lords, Elladen and Elrohir, and, myself." He stated, daring Thranduil to question his words.
Those of his kin present looked at the four elves in wonder and he noticed Aerlaer looked annoyed Legolas had interrupted his addressing of the group, but she said nothing, still refusing to look at him. "Thank you, Legolas, for correcting me." Thranduil replied and continued to address the group of elves as Legolas sat back down, still moody.
"While the wraiths have been destroyed along with the Ring and Sauron, orcs still remain at large in Dol Guldur, and spiders still torment our lands, our beloved trees. We must rid our land firstly of the last remaining forces of Sauron's army. I propose we march on them and take Dol Guldur by storm. Take back our lands and lay to waste the evil which has endured for far too long inside those decaying walls."
Thranduil fell silent as the circle of elves took in the information thoughtfully. Slowly they began to murmur amongst themselves.
He was surprised to see Aerlaer in an animated discussion now with the two Elrondian twins and caught snippets of strategies and such being discussed between them.
"How many estimated are there my Lord?" Elrohir asked him and he turned to Tauriel for she was commander of the entire guard. She held the vital information to how their enemy moved and acted and approximate numbers.
"I would approximate there are at least twelve-thousand orcs remaining my Lord." Tauriel said quietly, answering Elrohir, and the dark-haired elf nodded stiffly as he turned back to discussions with his twin and Aerlaer.
"What is your average kill rate per guard per hour?" Aerlaer asked Tauriel and the red head startled a little where she sat. Aerlaer surveyed her coolly waiting for an answer.
"I am sorry, I do not understand what you wish to know?" Tauriel said warily, watching the other elleth. Aerlaer sighed.
"I wish to know how many orcs each of your soldiers can usually kill within an hour." She explained boredly and Thranduil saw Tauriel trying to keep a scowl from her face.
"An average of ten per hour." Tauriel's demeanour was stiff, uncomfortable.
"And how many does your guard consist of?" Aerlaer asked again.
"We have three hundred armed to fight Princess Aerlaer." Tauriel replied and Aerlaer nodded curtly and turned back to speak with her cousins.
"This is meant to be an open discussion of planning." Celeborn said to the three young elves and Aerlaer and the twins looked guiltily at him. "Speak your ideas to all gathered here." He told them and the three silently nodded.
"I am working out statistics. Aerlaer addressed them all, although she only looked towards the map or Thranduil as she spoke.
"In total there are five hundred of us against twelve thousand orcs. At ten orcs per hour, it will take three hours in the best conditions to take them down. I'll double that to six hours to allow for conditions. We would do well to attack them when the sun is brightest and when it is above the tree line so maximum light filtrates Dol Guldur. It will cause the orcs more panic, I think. If we laid siege two hours before the sun has fully risen in the sky, we should be finished before she thinks to set on us." Aerlaer finished speaking, but her gaze flickered to Tauriel, as if daring his Commander to argue.
"The plan is commendable." Thranduil spoke before Tauriel did. I propose, we leave an hour earlier still, to ensure we may travel at a sedate pace, to allow all soldiers to remain fresh for battle. I am aware the Lothlorien guard have travelled swiftly to be here, and I am grateful to have Lothlorien fighting alongside the Elves of the Greenwood." Thranduil nodded to Galadriel and Celeborn in turn.
"Might I suggest we go over the finer points, devise a strategy?" The Lorien Marchwarden spoke up, his eyes catching Tauriel's. "It has been some centuries since I walked this part of Middle Earth, the land has changed."
"Of course, Dol Guldur is no longer reminiscent of Amon Lanc." Thranduil murmured, recalling the beauty of the once Elven structure, now rotted by evil and darkness alike. "Tauriel, you will consort with Marchwarden, Haldir." He commanded. "Legolas, you too will aid in these plans." Legolas raised his head, eyes flashing, indignant.
"I do not think my presence will be necessary." Legolas's gaze flickered to Aerlaer, and then Tauriel, looking decidedly pale.
"I would appreciate your added input, melon nin." Haldir spoke kindly, nodding at Legolas.
"As would I." Tauriel's words were barely above a whisper, her green gaze full of hope. Thranduil knew the elleth had missed strategising with Legolas, and while she was a perfect commander of his guard, Tauriel had preferred fighting alongside Legolas.
"Very well." Legolas sighed, showing his reluctance plainly. Thranduil noted Aerlaer's lips had thinned, but her hair did not spark now.
"We will all be ready to march an hour past dawn. We will leave our commanders to organise the finer details." Celeborn spoke to the circle of elves. "Any who wish to remain and strategise, may do so." He invited. Elladan, the seemingly level headed Elrondion nodded, but Elrohir, his brother, stood and strode from the tent. Thranduil turned to Aerlaer, surprised to find she had already slipped away. The sorrow in Legolas's eyes told him his son had seen her go.
…
Legolas answered any questions asked of him regarding the upcoming battle, but no more. The stars were out, and the air cool, when he stepped from the spacious tent.
"Legolas, wait." Tauriel's voice rang out softly behind him. "Please, talk to me."
"We have spent the past hour talking." He continued walking, searching, searching for her.
"Of strategy, please Legolas, talk to me. We used to talk about anything…" Legolas shook his head, pushing away the confusion in Tauriel's voice, the hurt.
"I need to find Aerlaer." He dismissed her, and hurried away, ignoring the new layer of guilt which enveloped him. He needed to find Aerlaer and explain everything. He couldn't lose her, he couldn't!
…
"You could easily deal him the same blow." Orophin said, pushing himself off the small pine tree he leant against. Aerlaer shook her head, making to walk past him, on her way to, well, she was unsure where; she was currently avoiding Elrohir's over-protective hovering. Orophin grabbed her hand, stalling her.
"Orophin…" She warned tiredly, but he only leaned closer, as if to share a secret.
"Unlike him, my affections have never strayed." He said silkily into her ear, his lips nearly touching it.
She moved her head away from him and stepped back.
"Orophin." She warned again, glaring at him. He smirked at her and oh how she wished it was Legolas smirking back at her with mirth dancing in his brown eyes. Instead Orophin's dark blue eyes gazed back at her, and her heart ached, and her soul seemed to twist within it, angering her.
How foolish could she had been, falling so easily in the end. Perhaps this is what her father had been trying to protect her from? Had he somehow known? She did not know. She felt half like her breaking heart would bring her to her knees but the anger which also flared within her kept her standing tall and proud.
Orophin's hand released hers and then came up to touch her cheek, stroking it, but she barely felt it, wrestling internally with her emotions. It was not until she felt light, warm breath, not entirely unpleasant, but completely unfamiliar, Aerlaer snapped out of her thoughts to see Orophin's mouth just inches from hers, his intention clear. She hastily took a step back.
"Manwe, Orophin! What in Arda are you doing!" She hissed in shock.
"Trying to kiss you." He answered and snatched up both her hands.
"By Eru, you can be so manlike sometimes!" She snapped as she shook her hands from his.
"That was harsh, Aerlaer." He said looking genuinely hurt by her words.
"It was, I am sorry, but you cannot just try and kiss me, you know I can never feel that way for you." She said, trying not to sound exasperated by the blonde elf before her.
"I hoped maybe you might change your mind." He said quietly and she shook her head.
"No, I'll never change my mind..." She trailed off, the pain within her heart resurfacing.
"He has hurt you deeply. You cannot say that. You are not bound to him, Aerlaer. You can always change your mind. I remember how hurt you were all those years ago when you stayed in Lorien. How sad you were. It angers me, although I wished all these years you had felt something too for me, your heart is true for after all this time you've never seemed interested in any other ellon. Yet, it seems his affections clearly wandered, if indeed he held them for you at all?" Orophin gazed at her, imploring her, and his words hit her heart like poison, creeping into her soul.
Her father had convinced her what she thought of love was wrong but never had she looked twice at another ellon. Legolas had not been subjected to the manipulation she had been and yet another elleth was clearly in his affections. She looked up into Orophin's eyes and saw true sadness in them as he gently pulled her into a comforting embrace.
"You can always change your mind, meleth." He murmured to her. "You are strong, and your heart and soul are yours." He said reassuringly and placed a tender kiss upon her cheek. "I will leave you know to your thoughts but if you wish to find me, you know where my brothers and I are." He said kindly. "Try and get some rest, Aerlaer." He added with a small smile before leaving her alone under the trees.
He is wrong, my heart might still be entirely my own, but my soul is not and perhaps it never was.
…
Legolas couldn't breathe, his heart constricted. He had searched for Aerlaer, hoping desperately to speak with her, only to find her with Orophin, hand in his. He had turned away as the Lorien guard had gone to kiss her, melting back into the trees, but he could not help himself, looking back over the distance he had put between them to see Orophin now holding her, his Aer, in an embrace.
Who was he kidding? She was not his, Aer. Not anymore. He deserved this. He had ruined everything. Why, oh, why did he not tell her about Tauriel? Clearly it was over now. She felt betrayed by him and so she should. He ran his fingers over the ring on his left hand as bitter tears fell down his cheeks. Without her in his life he could not even foresee a future and there was no hope.
Numbly, he walked beneath the trees, not wishing to speak with them but only draw comfort from them. He found a large tree, whose roots created a partially hidden sanctuary littered with soft, dry leaves and it was here he sank down, curling into the space, throwing his Lorien cloak over himself for concealment.
The scent of violets clung to the material, her, and for that he clung to it like it was hope itself he clung to. Hope she would come back to him. He wondered how long it would take to fade from a broken heart. He could not remain here without her by his side and already the real sea was a plague upon his mind without her, and he knew, with the waves crashing in his mind and his heart shattered by his own foolishness, he would not sleep.