Horses flew past Marian as she raced down the hillside toward Éowyn, who had just handed Aragorn the reins to his horse and was speaking to King Théoden with a steely, determined look on her face. Marian drew nearer as he cut her off sharply.
"No!" he insisted. "You must do this, for me."
They held each other's gaze for a moment, and Marian reached Éowyn's side as she turned away and shouted for the villagers to make haste to Helm's Deep. Théoden wheeled his horse around, calling the riders to battle.
"Éowyn?" Marian said hesitantly as the woman suddenly stood transfixed amidst the disarray, staring past her.
Looking round, Marian caught sight of Aragorn, who gazed back at Éowyn for a moment before he, too, turned his horse toward the fight. Immediately, Éowyn snapped back into focus, grabbing Marian's wrist.
"Come," she said, in a tone that was both tense and a little bitter. "We must move quickly, lest the battle is lost and wargs overtake us."
"And that's… likely?" Marian asked anxiously, looking back even as Éowyn pulled her along with the crowd.
At her words, Éowyn's grip faltered, and her voice broke slightly. "I do not know."
Marian took in her friend's pale face, fragmented with conflicting emotions.
"He'll make it back," she said softly. "Both of them will."
"Yes," Éowyn said, seeming to gather herself, now looking pointedly at Marian. "He will."
Marian knew she was no longer talking about Aragorn or Théoden, and found that thinking about Legolas filled her with such trepidation that she tried to force the thoughts from her head.
"Let's go," she said resolutely.
Éowyn regarded her for a moment before nodding and releasing her wrist; they hastened along with the rest of the group, listening to the worried voices around them in silence.
Legolas stood still at last, catching his breath as the few remaining wargs were taken down. He looked around and spotted Gimli, who stumped toward him, using his axe as a walking stick.
"Have you seen Aragorn?" he asked gruffly.
"No," Legolas frowned, dread creeping into the pit of his stomach.
The two spread out from where they stood, calling Aragorn's name. There was no answer- instead, a terrible, hacking laugh rose up from one of the nearby orcs who lay dying on the ground.
Gimli advanced, swinging his axe around, eyes fixed on the orc.
"Tell me what happened, and I will ease your passing," he growled.
"He's- dead," the creature coughed, smiling wickedly. "Took a little tumble off the cliff."
A rush of anger swept over Legolas and he seized the orc, pulling it so close they were almost nose-to-nose.
"You lie," he snarled.
The orc choked out a laugh and then stilled, fingers uncurling from their clenched fists. Legolas saw something glittering within the orc's limp grasp- Aragorn's necklace, he realized. If Aragorn's necklace was here, then...
He picked the necklace out of the orc's hand and rose to his feet, looking over at the cliff where King Théoden stood, staring down into the water.
No, he thought blindly, making his way to the cliff's edge. Gimli followed silently. The river flowed through the ravine far below them, surrounded on all sides by tall, jagged rock walls. If Aragorn had truly fallen that distance... but perhaps, Legolas thought desperately, perhaps he was not wounded, and had only been knocked unconscious by the fall-
Théoden interrupted his thoughts, speaking to his remaining men. "Get the wounded on horses. The wolves of Isengard will return."
He paused, glancing at Legolas and Gimli, who stood motionless, eyes still searching the waters below.
"Leave the dead," he said, meeting Legolas' gaze as his head shot up, grief and disbelief written on his face.
Aragorn was not dead. He couldn't be.
Théoden placed a hand on Legolas' shoulder. "Come."
As the king turned away, Legolas looked down at the gleaming necklace in his hand, slowly coming to the dizzying realization that his friend was truly gone.