A/N Some more of Calli's personality comes out in this chapter, and tons of action!
"Thank you Gríma," I said after he brought me the map I requested. After lying I immediately wanted to apologize, but I knew I couldn't. So I did the next best thing, I tried to make up for it with my wonderful manners.
The reflection I saw when I looked into the basin of water was a bruised scared woman, she didn't look at all like a commander of an army. My vitiligo has spread too, I didn't look like how I did in the mirror of Galadriel but if Dargan saw me now he would definitely Moo.
What am I going to do with thousands of Uruk-hai anyway?! Are their lives not worthy as well? Do I have it in me to use them as pawns? Yes, if Dargan is with Frodo and Sam then I will break any pledge for his sake.
Is storming the black gate with only two thousand wise? No, I would have to lead them somewhere else, I would need to attack somewhere else, and who's to say they would attack their own willingly? I have to try, I have to try to change things, do what I can for Dargan.
"Mistress Meridius," Gríma stepped into the room and gestured toward the staircase. He didn't grip my arm this time and part of me wished for his grip so at least I wouldn't be the only one tumbling down should I fall again.
The map Gríma brought me was a majority of Middle-Earth, and even staring at it for as long as I did I had no idea where to go with my forces. I could take them to Edoras and ask Gandalf what to do, yes I will do that. Edoras is on the way anyway.
"Thank you Gríma, your kindness is appreciated," I said once we stood at the base of the Orthanc. I felt terrible for lying to the little weasel.
The Orthanc loomed above me, casting a long shadow that seemed to stretch out indefinitely. The air around the tower was heavy with a sense of foreboding, and its smooth, polished stone surface appeared as impenetrable as ever.
The quiet and tranquility that was felt above on the balcony couldn't be had here, the sounds of groans and grunts and even wails coming from the depths of Isengard was a decibel higher than safe. Gas-powered lawnmowers and leaf blowers have an average decibel of 85, causing damage to one's hearing after only two hours of exposure. By the time I returned to my time, I would be a deaf cow.
That was when I saw them. As I laid my eyes upon the Uruk-hai for the first time, I was struck by their formidable and menacing presence. They were unlike anything I had ever encountered, standing tall and powerfully built. The mere sight of them sent shivers down my spine, and a creeping sense of dread settled in the pit of my stomach.
"They await your command," Gríma spoke from behind me. Thanks, Captain Obvious.
Their dark, mottled complexions spoke of battle-hardened lives, and their leathery skin bore the scars of countless conflicts. It was as if they had been molded by war itself, their very beings forged for the brutality of the battlefield.
The Uruk-hai were heavily armed and armored, their serrated blades glinting with a cruel sharpness. I want to go back to the Golden Wood.
"Cry havoc and let slip the dogs of war!" I quoted Shakespeare raising my fist into the air. "Who are the sergeants among you?"
Gríma watched in awe from the base of the tower. Their faces were a grotesque sight to behold, with fangs protruding from their mouths and eyes that gleamed with malevolence. Their expressions exuded a ruthless determination, and their gaze, fixated on an unseen enemy, seemed to promise nothing but violence and bloodshed.
About 20 foreboding Uruk-hai stepped forward, each with equally smug expressions. I forced myself to smile, "Ah," I scratched the back of my neck waiting for one of them to speak or do anything and none of them did.
I had to carry the entire conversation, I had to ask each of them their name, over and over, it wasn't something I could ask once and then turn and look at the next and get an answer. No, they didn't understand assumptions; I stood at the base of the tower until the sun began to set just learning their names. It was terribly awkward.
"We march to the black gate," I commanded dismissing the group as Gríma again approached from behind causing me to jump.
"Forgive me for startling you fair commander, I thought you would prefer…" He trailed off as I turned to him. He had a black horse by the reins; it seemed more imposing even than the orcs.
I grimaced thinking of riding, but the thought was better than walking next to the Uruk-hai.
"Thank you Gríma, that was very thoughtful, could you help me up?" I asked, his sallowed skin turned a dusty pink as he took my hand in his and helped me onto the beast.
Play the part Calli, remember every movie you've ever seen, your life depends on it, Dargan's does as well.
"We march the black gate," I stated again this time trotting the horse to the front of the lines. The saddle was such a soft leather, different than that of Aragorn's steed. Why did I watch so many Romance movies instead of Military? Those would have come in handy now.
oOo
It took two days to reach Edoras, the Uruk-hai have been growing reckless under my command, yesterday I was forced to make an example of one of my sergeants.
"What is going on here?!" I screeched after we stopped for a few hours of respite.
A group of Uruk-hai had found a young boy, he was still alive, no older than 8. They were fighting over him, who had the right to eat him. He was terrified it was obvious by the dark stain on his pants. How he got so far out in the wilderness is beyond me.
"Demawe is trying to keep all to himself," One of the brutes explained shoving the other.
"Thoak, sword please." I held my hand out toward my sergeant. He placed a sword far too heavy in my hand.
"Mans-flesh is not on the menu," I hissed raising the sword with both of my hands. "Leave the child; we must be on our way."
Two of the orcs began grumbling as I turned my back and I knew what I had to do. I try even now to block it out and have been partially successful. Though bits and pieces stick out even now.
My hands sticky with thick black blood.
The orc's breath hitting me like a hundred rotten eggs.
The skin of the orc was rough, thick, oddly spongy. The bones underneath feel like a stone slab, and it's extremely heavy. It took several attempts to break the skin. All while the small boy watched.
In the end, I couldn't leave the boy, I knew if another band of orcs went by they would slay him, so I scooped him up into my arms and held him close as we galloped along the plains. He was constantly wet, causing us both to smell of urine and the horse underneath us to become irritated. Migraines became my companion, the scent however was not enough to deter the Orcs from eyeing him.
"No harm will befall you; pray what is your name?" I asked the boy as we reached Edoras. I had asked him several times along our journey, each time the only reply I received was a blank stare.
This time was no different.
As I scanned the horizon, my eyes settled on a dark and menacing sight. In the distance, a band of orcs marched with an eerie sense of purpose. Their silhouettes, with twisted and hunched postures, were unmistakable against the landscape.
"Thoak! Send a scout, find out where they are headed, and report back NOW!" I ordered as the feeling of dread began to overwhelm me.
Edoras was desolate; there weren't even guards along the gate. Gandalf wasn't here and wouldn't be able to help me.
I held the forces still at the gate refusing to allow them entrance until the scout returned. Their presence was like a shadow, a blot on the land that seemed to consume all light and hope in its path.
He returned quickly and not at all out of breath, "And hmmm?" I asked.
"Saruman's forces, he is leading an army to Hornburg," the orc answered.
I spurred my horse and turned him around to face the fleet. "We will intercept them; anyone who disobeys the Ruler will be annihilated. Saruman will not go without punishment, Make haste to Hornburg!"
I had no idea the direction Hornburg was as I squeezed my thighs and signaled the horse to a gallop but I followed the same direction I saw the other orcs run in and soon didn't have to worry about leading in the wrong way because several Uruk-hai outran the horse and led the way.
"My name is Calliope, I am a friend of Gandalf," I whispered to the child I held. I didn't know who I was trying to reassure him or I. I murdered two Uruk-hai in front of his eyes only two days prior, how could I be a friend of anyone?
I was disgusting, and now held a poor child captive. Would he be better if I left him? In an abandoned Edoras? All alone? Killing wasn't what I had expected either, at first it was a strange sense of accomplishment, a God complex, but as the power rushed to my head so did the bile and the reality I now bore the title Liar and Murderer.
When we stopped we never stopped long enough to make camp, it was long enough to use the bathroom, eat a quick meal, and rest the horse and off we set again. The meals were always of questionable origin and often slimy. The Uruk-hai didn't even need to stop, we stopped for me and the boy, but the boy didn't leave the horse.
"My name is Eomah," the boy finally spoke after I had attempted communicating again. Mindlessly speaking about the sky and the weather and anything I could think of. I could never speak much with the Uruk-hai around but when we rode we could get enough distance I felt comfortable enough to whisper in his ear.
"Eomah, that's a good strong name." I patted his knee gently as we rode.
"You didn't let them hurt me," he stated.
I didn't say anything in reply right away, I knew what state of shock he was in, it was the state I continued to relive. I wished I had someone to allow me to quote my life to, speak it into existence, talk myself through what had happened.
"No, I didn't," I whispered back.
"If what you say is true then what will happen to us?" He squeaked.
"What do you mean?"
"The fleet we're following is at least 3 times the size of this one… are we going to die?"
Turns out, hospice is probably not my forte, because I am not good at comforting people who are about to die, myself included. What do you say? Yeah kid, my bad, sorry I saved your life to get you killed again. If Dargan were here he would simply answer the boy with a blank stare and an "Obviously,"
"How many more will we save Eomah? We must be brave, we must be strong."
We were closing in on them, and closing in on the Hornburg as well. The Hornburg was strategically located, built into the natural rock formations that rise steeply on either side. We were coming from the side, as Saruman's forces came up through the valley central. It was night; their torchlights made them appear as fireflies.
Two towering structures, the Deeping Wall and the Hornburg, define the fortress. The Deeping Wall is a colossal barrier that spans the gap between the rocky hills, while the Hornburg is the main citadel and keep. Both structures feature crenelated parapets and sturdy battlements, providing a commanding view of the surrounding landscape.
"Can you ride?" I whispered down to Eomah who for the first time smiled and shown genuine emotion, "Of course!" Yes, I forgot I was speaking to a Rohirrim, they teach them to ride before they teach them to walk.
"I will lead the charge, I want you to take the horse and ride straight to the drawbridge, you are to yell and scream understand? You will be brave and strong do you understand?"
His body shook with tremors and I found myself vibrating along with him with my own terror. "Eomah, ride swiftly."
I dismounted and tried to ignore the pain I felt in my lower body, "Tonight, we lay waste! Orc-flesh is on the menu!"
I didn't have to yell charge like in the movies; I didn't even need to point my sword, they all ran passed me excited for conflict after so many days without.
We met them at the base of the valley, they were confused but fought back, many within their forces joined the inner fighting for the sake of fighting.
"What are you doing? Fall back, you fool! We're on the same side!"
"You're being led by a traitor, and I won't follow your orders!"
The resounding clash of steel on steel filled the air, mingled with the shouts of our warriors and the battle cries of the orcs. It was nothing compared to the chanting, thousands of Orcs in the lines were blissfully unaware of the battle ahead of them and continued their war chants. "Durbgu Nazg-shu, Durbgu Dash-shu" The grunts would seem to blow through me and echo back after hitting the Hornburg.
The sheer weight of numbers on the orc side was staggering, and the fight was fierce and unrelenting. "Do not let their disobedience go unpunished!" I yelled, my sword swung into an orc and got stuck. I yanked on it, pressing my boot onto the fallen body to get a better grip.
"Enough squabbling! We've got a battle to win. Save your anger for the humans!" One of the Uruk-hai commanders tried to reason.
A horse galloped toward me and I frowned deeply, "I couldn't leave you," Eomah said, and I couldn't argue because I did not want to be left. But if I left my fleet they would flip sides.
I climbed onto the saddle behind him. "That was foolish," I stated. I was glad to not be alone and the forces around us were dwindling and more and more orcs were pressing through.
"We're supposed to be following orders, but it looks like the big bosses can't agree on anything." One of the Orcs shrugged holding his crossbow, clearly what he held in height he did not hold in IQ.
My steed remained surprisingly composed. Its ears pricked forward, and its powerful muscles moved with grace and precision as we navigated through the tumultuous fray. Was the horse as inherently evil as the orcs? Or was the animal so used to trauma this was a walk in the park for it?
"Orc-flesh! Orc-flesh!" One cried signaling others to gather around a fallen Uruk-hai so they could collectively pause and consume the best parts.
"Thank you for coming back for me Eomah," I felt the tears and I wouldn't be able to stop them if I tried.
"No deed will go unpunished!" I cried again, spurring the horse and running through the forces, trying to rally what was left, "The true servants will be rewarded."
It was pure bloodshed, it was idiotic, kin slaying. I began counting them, the bodies, the ones still fighting. I even asked Eomah to help.
"You think I trust any of you lot? I'll gut you all if I have to!" An Orc roared in anger after switching sides and attacking his own.
We counted hundreds slain. The clashing of swords, the twang of bowstrings, and the guttural roars of orcs filled the air.
"Backstabbing scum! You'll pay for betraying our kind!"
The acrid scent of sweat, blood, and burning torches mingled in a discordant symphony of war. My ears rang, the earth shook with the never-ending chant from behind us. Deaf I will become deaf if not dead.
"It's almost time Eomah, we might be able to make it."
Amidst the strife, arrows flew through the air, some finding their marks with deadly precision, while others struck shields and armor. The horse was not untouched by the violence. The resolute animal kicked and bit at the enemy, his loyalty to his riders evident as he fought alongside us. He danced through the melee, his hooves and flaring nostrils adding to the pandemonium. I was surprised by his loyalty, especially to Eomah, the child has done nothing but quite literally piss on the poor horse. And as Dargan always said, better to be pissed off than pissed on.
The air was filled with a deadly whistle as the projectiles sped through the sky, their deadly tips glinting in the flickering torchlight.
"Get down," I leaned low in the saddle, practically using my entire body weight to protect Eomah.
"There's too many," I whispered as panic began to rise in my throat. And for a moment all I could do is hold the reins and tremble. Eomah was the one who took the reins as the last of our forces either switched sides or were killed and we became surrounded.
Eomah pushed the horse harder than I ever could, he ran for his life, for all our lives.
We approached the drawbridge and both started waving and screaming, hoping desperately nobody would begin shooting at us. With a sickening thud, an arrow found its mark in my loyal horse. A sharp, pained cry erupted from the brave steed as it reared, its eyes wide with shock and agony. The powerful creature, now wounded and in distress, stumbled, threatening to unseat us.
"No," I growled. The arrow had struck its flank, and the wound was bleeding profusely.
Men along the wall saw us and shouted to us, Eomah replied, though I couldn't tell you what was said as all I heard was my pulse quickening in my ears. Another arrow crunched against the horse's side as we stood along the drawbridge, practically a walking target now for both sides.
Ropes were lowered from the towering walls, and brave soldiers leaned out, extending their hands to lift us. That was when the rain started.
The men were all speaking and asking questions as Eomah and I both collapsed onto the wall. My hands shook as if I had Parkinson's, and I tried desperately to focus. The rain felt like needles of ice, a washing away of my sins.
"Calliope? Calliope!"
"Take them to the caves,"
"No, I will fight, I am brave," Eomah argued in front of me.
Legolas scooped me up into his arms, his voice was panicked and he spoke a mixture of Sindarin and Common. I couldn't focus, all of the resolve I held was crumbling now at the worst time, the battle wasn't over, I knew it wasn't, but as he held me all I could do was sob and gag on my sobs.
"I tried to stop them," I said as my body rocked against his.
"I know, I saw you." His voice was gentle and broken.
"You cannot be here," he muttered against me tightening his grip, he switched to Sindarin and spoke so quickly I just nodded. Yeah brother, let it out.
The chanting grew louder and my tremors could no longer be called tremors it was more like violent shaking.
I swallowed, no, bury the trauma, bury the pain, ground yourself. Focus on the rain; focus on the feeling, the ice that pricks, the goosebumps that spring from your bruised skin.
I took a ragged breath, "Forgive me, I've made a mess of your tunic." I gestured to his tunic which was now stained with orcblood. I stood to my feet like a newborn deer and several sets of hands shot out to steady me, men I've never met and some familiar faces. It was then I realized my hand still gripped my sword, it was almost fused to it.
Legolas looked at me in astonishment as Aragorn came into view, his hair clung to his face, he had a deep purple bruise along his jaw something had definitely happened to him since the last time I saw him.
"My friend,"
I hugged him, tightly. "I will fight, I'm not done." I didn't know if I was convincing him or myself.
He pointed to the far end of the wall, "I will not sway you if you wish to fight, go there," He pointed toward a group of blonde archers. "Haldir." He spoke.
"No! She cannot!" Legolas argued behind me.
"Has she not earned the right to fight?" Aragorn countered.
My feet fumbled underneath me as I began walking on the wall toward the Elves, the wall began to vibrate with the approaching orcs.
Before I made it, my arm was forcefully yanked back and before I could register what was happening I felt a set of lips on mine. It was a wet kiss, not from saliva but the rain and sweat that drenched both of our faces. I could taste the salt on his lips, the sweat in his hair, and the overwhelming smell of the forest. Legolas. I felt his hands slip around my waist, his warmth permeating into my cool body. I remained frozen in shock, unable to will myself to kiss back or react as he pulled away. My wide eyes met eyes full of regret. He regretted kissing me.
I reached Haldir shortly after and he didn't seem quite so cold and to my surprise, Orophin was also one of the archers, along with Barasil. Who ignored his commanding officer when he saw me and abandoned his post in favor of scooping me into his arms and chastising me for being in the same place he was.
The muscles in my legs seemed to twitch on their own accord as he carried me the rest of the way to the end of the wall. "You are full of surprises Little Seer," he murmured as he sat me down.
"Polod,"[strong] I replied causing him to smile.
"Polod," He answered as he moved into position along the wall, but his body was slightly angled as if to still guard me.
"Dartho!" [Hold.] Haldir bellowed, raising a hand up.
"Naur!" [Fire.]
This happened, this already happened. This is Helms Deep. I didn't change anything. All of these people are still going to die. The battlement was slick with rainwater, making each step a treacherous dance on the precipice of danger. It wasn't long before Saruman's forces began firing arrows of their own and meeting many of the men who stood near me along the wall. That was when I realized I was a particular target. I had tricked them, I had forced them to kill their own, and they were out for vengeance.
The archers beside me frantically shot arrows into the storm. Their movements were hurried, their breaths coming in panicked gasps. Barasil acted like a mother lion, stepping back and feeling with his heel until they met one of mine and then he would press his back into mine, shielding me with his body as he shot arrows.
"Ladders!"
The clattering of wood against stone resounded like a dire omen. Soldiers rushed to the walls, desperately trying to dislodge the ladders, but the rain-slicked stone made their footing treacherous. The orcs were relentless, surging up the ladders like a dark tide, their grotesque forms emerging on the battlement in a nightmarish onslaught. They didn't have any self-preservation or regard for life, they willingly climbed over their own dead.
"Swords! Swords!"
The orcs crawled up like ants, as more ladders were raised up. I found myself defending Barasil with a sword while he defended me with a bow. It became glaringly apparent I was a prime target when one of the orcs pointed and said "There she is," before getting his innards cut out.
The adrenalin was wearing off, and the horror of what I'd been doing was setting in. "No, stay with me Calli," Barasil spoke from my side.
"Is this it? Is this all you can conjure, Saruman?" Théoden King spoke arrogantly from the wall.
The pounding rain, the clashing of steel, and the guttural cries of orcs became distant and muffled, as if I were watching the scene from a great distance.
"Look over there, lads. Fresh meat!" Orcs wasted no time dismembering fallen men and biting into the flesh in the middle of the battle.
I felt as though I were no longer a part of the tumultuous battle, but an observer from afar. My senses dulled, and time seemed to slow to a crawl. The world around me became a series of disjointed images and sounds, as if I had disconnected from the grim reality of the battlefield. Yep, this was an 'Ah, Hell' moment, this was a free pass. The cold rain that drenched me seemed to penetrate my very bones, intensifying the quaking that had taken hold of my limbs.
My teeth chattered, and my breath came in shallow, ragged gasps. "Stay with me Calli,"
Then, the ground gave way, the wall of the Hornburg was torn asunder, and I found myself at the epicenter of the cataclysmic event. Debris, stone, and dust billowed into the air, and a shockwave reverberated through the battlement. The remnants of the wall crumbled and cascaded down upon me.
"Back off, scum! I'll be the one to claim her!"
At first, I thought Barasil did it; I thought it was Barasil's way of grounding me. But no, it was far worse, the Orcs had breached the wall, the wall was practically nonexistent now and orcs poured in. The only remaining bits of wall were on the edges.
The guttural war cries of the orcs filled the air, drowning out the sounds of battle and dread. I turned my head to look for Barasil and saw no one, I laid alone, well not really alone I had several dead bodies to keep me company.
"Aragorn! Fall back to the Keep! Get your men out of there!"
I watched in a daze as the White Hand of Saruman stood over me with a wicked grin. "Commander,"
"Deserter," I spit back. Even though truthfully I was the deserter, not him.
"Saruman has requested to bleed you dry himself," he bowed wickedly before he stooped to pick me up and I mustered all my strength to fight back. My sword had flown from my grasp in the explosion so I hit and kicked and did a whole lot of nothing.
"Brace the gate!"
He picked me up in his arms, as I continued squirming, "The Uruk that brings you to him is granted your flesh and a promotion." He licked his lips before squeezing me in an attempt to stop my squirming.
"To the gate. Draw your swords!"
Before I could think up a witty reply, another Uruk tackled the one holding me causing me to fall out of his arms and onto the ground again.
"We cannot hold much longer!"
I limped toward the hole in the wall, while all the men and Elves around me retreated. I knew if I could get enough Uruks fighting themselves we could win.
"Back off, worm! She's mine for the taking!"
I didn't limp long, calloused hands reached down to seize me then within a few steps I was again falling to the ground to only get picked up again and carried a few more paces. The Uruk-hai's grip was unyielding and suffocating, its fetid breath washing over me as it carried me with ease.
"Filthy cur! I'll rip your throat out!"
My plan was working; many of the Orcs that were storming the wall and drawbridge turned their pace instead toward me. Even as I dangled helplessly in the clutches of this abhorrent creature, the defiance and courage of Rohan remained alive within me. One carried me down part of a ladder to only drop me a few steps from the ground.
"Archers!" I heard from along the wall that wasn't crumbled. Arrows whizzed past me, never hitting the orc that carried me, but the orcs that were distracted were easy targets.
Each breath became an agonizing ordeal, and I could feel the sharp stab of pain with every inhalation. It didn't allow me to disassociate however, pain allowed me to keep my soundness of mind and for that I am thankful.
"Archers along the wall!"
I was carried farther now, no longer by the safety of my kind, I was alone. The uruk-hai were still going through the hole, but it was a manageable amount as most were killing each other along the valley for a chance to eat me. They became target practice for the archers along the wall.
"I can smell the fear on her. The meat will be sweet and tender."
The first rays of the sun began to pierce through the dark clouds, painting the sky with hues of crimson and gold. The rain-soaked landscape glistened as the dawn's light broke through the shroud of darkness.
"Rohirrim!"
I turned my head to see a cavalry of imposing force headed towards me, great. Everything in Middle-Earth wants me dead or deaf.
"To the king!" The leader of the army cried.
Their war-torn banners flapped in the breeze, bearing the proud emblem of the Riddermark. The sunlit blades of their weapons caught the morning light, adding an aura of determination and nobility to the scene.
The Uruk-hai holding me froze, they all seemed to freeze, except the ones that were shot by arrows, those ones fell. They were in almost a trance, perhaps they too were disassociating. A figure of resplendent radiance cut through the fray. It was Gandalf the White, the wizard of immense power, wielding his staff with a brilliance that defied the darkness. A radiant light emanated from his staff, casting stark and ethereal glow that dispelled the shadows. The Uruk-hai's malevolent eyes flickered with a mixture of fear and hatred as he beheld the brilliant light that emanated from the wizard's staff.
I didn't squirm, I didn't have the energy. I remained completely still. Gandalf's appearance had disrupted the Uruk-hai's confidence, and it was clear that the wizard's presence struck a chord of fear in the heart of the enemy. They met the remaining Orcs head-on; their horses didn't spook either, acting in similar fashion to mine.
"Forth Eorlingas!" Théoden King yelled as the gate was raised and his own cavalry charged into battle.
I don't remember the Uruk-hai dying that held me. I didn't hit the ground though. I was caught by many hands.
"Healer! Healer!"- "If she awakes everyone in this Keep owes her their life."
oOo
I awoke to an immense calm, I drowsily opened my eyes, I imagined myself in the Golden Wood, Dargan was still there and everything was fine.
That was however not the case, I laid on a cot in the great hall of Hornburg. And instead of being alone, perhaps a bit too much to ask, I was surrounded by far too many faces.
Legolas was holding my hand in his; he was staring intently at the rise and fall of my chest under the blanket. The great hall was turned into a makeshift infirmary, there were cots spread out with no privacy, and very narrow walkways for healers to maneuver.
I pulled my hand out of Legolas's and tried to sit up which resulted in a groan, "rest, rest." He insisted in a mothering voice.
Always treating me like a child, like a burden.
"Wh-" I tried to talk and ended up coughing. He stood up and quickly brought me a glass of water.
"Eomah."
His brows furrowed and I was going to say something more when he finally realized who I was asking about, "He will make a full recovery, he suffered a head wound."
He made to grab my hand again and I shied away. "How long have I been here?"
"Half a day," he frowned deeply.
"Where are Orophin and Barasil?"
"Orophin is…" He took a deep breath, and I tried to sit up again.
"Orophin isn't dead, I just saw him, he isn't dead." My voice took on a shrill raspy note.
"Haldir fell within the Keep; Orophin is preparing for the journey back to the Golden Wood."
"Barasil?"
"Barasil is alive yes,"
I named off every single person I could think up, then in my traumatized state, I named them again, and again. And Legolas patiently gave me an answer on their state. When I asked him to replay the events for me he did.
"We are in Hornburg," he answered, and I would dumbly reply "Oh," I knew we were in Hornburg but still I needed to be told.
"The woman in Edoras, the one with the green scarf and she was talking to a man when we walked by how is she?"
He furrowed his brows, "I will have to check on that for you…"
This happened several times he never lost his patience, it was almost infuriating for me because it was almost as if I were watching a movie, I knew I was asking stupid questions but I couldn't help it, it wasn't me.
When Dargan would ask stupid questions, he learned early on to play the autism card. He would shrug, "It's the autism," causing anyone around to give a collective, "Ooooh." I wish that worked for trauma and I could just say, "It's the trauma," and nobody would ask further questions about my behaviors.
"I'm not mad at you anymore… about Dargan," I said quietly trying to sit up again and successfully propping myself up on my elbows. "I know it wasn't your fault and it was childish of me to blame you."
His expression softened, he opened his mouth to speak as Barasil came and sat on my cot.
"Barasil," I smiled at him as he brushed a hair out of my face, Legolas exhaled deeply next to me.
"Eomah will not stop telling everyone of Commander Calliope." He had a bandage wrapped around his wrist I only noticed as he gestured toward me.
'I'm fine," he read my mind. "Now about this Commander,"
He reached out for my hand and I took it, he glanced at Legolas as I took a deep breath.
"I was trying to come home and I panicked." Barasil wasn't looking at me at all, neither was Legolas.
"Home?" Legolas asked, his voice held a different tone.
"The Golden Wood, I felt like a burden…" I glanced at Legolas, "The Nazgûl grabbed me after I left Edoras and then I was before Saruman."
My hand gripped tightly onto Barasil's, "I panicked, I demanded a fleet of two thousand, I pretended to be a commander and didn't take no for an answer. I claimed to be a messenger from Sauron, I told him an attack would be expected and Sauron commanded him to wait."
I cracked a smile then, "I didn't think it would actually work! Then I had my own fleet of Uruk-hai! I didn't know what to do so I headed back for Edoras," I laughed and tightened my grip as laughing caused the pain in my chest to worsen. Barasil used his other hand to pet my head, the fabric around his wrist caught in my hair and wasn't the least bit comforting, but he tried. "I thought Gandalf would know what to do, but when we reached Edoras nobody was there!"
I glanced at Legolas and noticed him scowling deeply at Barasil who countered the scowl with a smug grin. "I saw an army of Uruk-hai and sent a scout to see where they were going, and he told me it was Saruman's forces coming here. We intercepted them before they reached the wall, we didn't make much of a dent though…" I trailed off.
"Eomah said you were a mighty warrior, said he was afraid to speak for days in your presence," Barasil teased, but his teasing had ill effects as my face crumbled, "I don't want to be her again Barasil," I whispered as silent tears began trailing down my cheeks.
"Shhh," he gave my hand a gentle squeeze.
"Did he tell you what I did?" I squeaked. I didn't look at Barasil when I asked it, I looked at Legolas, for some reason his perception of me mattered more to me.
It took several moments before I got a reply, mostly due to the fact that Legolas was only staring at Barasil and probably didn't realize I was speaking to him.
"No, he didn't," he said carefully, his eyes darted quickly to mine then back to Barasil.
"I don't want to be her anymore; I don't want to be that anymore," I said quickly.
Barasil bent low and kissed my hand, "Polod"
I gave him a watery smile.
Barasil then stood and stretched, "I better go tell your healer you're awake."
I nodded numbly and stared at a fixed spot on the wall.
"The pledge you took is not broken," Legolas said softly from my side. He too seemed to be able to read me well, though not quite as well as Barasil.
"I led thousands into slaughter," I whispered. "I willingly used them as a buffer. Lives, living creatures, I killed them."
Legolas grabbed my chin forcefully forcing me to look at him, "You saved even more." I leaned into his touch, his grip relaxed, and moved from my chin to my cheek. His thumb gently traced the path my tears had made.
"Do you think me a monster now?" I asked, I saw a depth of pain and hurt in his piercing blue eyes. His jaw clenched and his head shook ever slightly.
"If I told you how many I have slain would you think me one?" The reflection of my own perceived inadequacies had found a home in his eyes, and I could see the anguish it caused him. But why? Why would he care what I thought of myself? Why did he kiss me? Why did his eyes hold regret after?
His hands didn't remove from my face, and I didn't pull away from his cradle. "Why didn't you stay behind me?" His voice was calm and level but held a slight tremor as if he were trying hard not to yell.
"What? You were on the other side of the wal-"
He cut me off, "In Edoras, I told you to stay behind me."
I suddenly wanted to scream 'Piss off' childishly. Is he upset because I didn't bend to his will? Because I decided to leave and not follow after him, of course, the egoistical prince.
"I don't have to listen to you."
He exhaled deeply, his hands retreated into his lap, "I am your b-"
I cut him off, "You aren't my prince! I don't have to listen to you! Maybe I wouldn't have left if you didn't make me feel like such a worthless burde-"
He cut me off, his voice rising, "Worthless burden? So me caring for your needs makes you feel worthless?!"
"You treat me like a weak child!" My voice cracked and I wished we could pause our argument so I could drink a glass of water.
"You are one! Do you know how many lifetimes I've lived-"
I cut him off, "Too damn many! Piss Off!"
I don't know what it is about Legolas that gets under my skin. He took a deep breath seeming to calm his nerves, as Barasil rounded the corner with a healer in tow.
"My Lady," the man bowed deeply to me, "My name is Fastred, I am indebted to your courage."
Legolas stood up abruptly and I didn't even glance in his direction as he walked away. "You've suffered a broken rib," he began, his words filled with compassion as Barasil took his seat on my cot again draping an arm protectively around me.
The healer blinked twice then bent low and began pressing on my skin. His fingers probed the tender area, and I winced with discomfort.
"Polod," Barasil whispered in my ear, his hair tickled my cheek.
"There are some contusions and minor cuts," he continued, "but no deeper injuries. The Valar favors you, despite the perils of battle." Wow, so great to be favored.
I bet Fastred's descendants are the type to quote Romans 8:28 after a school shooting. "All things work together for good," Yes, yes thank you.
The next few hours were spent lying next to Barasil, the cot was small but we both were able to fit, it wasn't romantic, he was simply comforting me. We both lay on our sides facing each other, it was slightly awkward in the makeshift infirmary, there were so many people around but it was easy to not focus on them when I looked at Barasil.
"How come you never told me you lived in Mirkwood?" I asked slightly breathlessly as lying on my side didn't do much for the pressure in my chest.
"It's a time I wish to forget." He answered curtly.
"Did you know Legolas when you were there?"
He pulled me closer to him his hand rubbing small circles on my back, "Aye,"
As I opened my mouth with another question he interrupted me, "When you're feeling better I have a confession to make,"
I stared at him with wide eyes and he smirked, "I had torn your gift, after you left I joined the forces fighting Dol Guldur," he paused briefly to pet my hair. "I tried to patch it myself but am utterly hopeless; I think I might have done more damage to it than the yrchs."
I tried to laugh but I couldn't, the thought of Barasil wearing the hoodie and getting torn to shreds was overwhelming. A flood of memories, both vivid and harrowing, surged to the forefront of my consciousness, and I felt as if I were transported back to the heart of the battlefield.
The sounds of clashing steel, the frenzied cries of the orcs, and the overwhelming chaos of the battle replayed in my mind in a relentless loop. My body shook with tremors, "Calli come back," Barasil was underwater, everything was underwater, and when his sweet voice began to sing in Elvish everything was underwater and black.
oOo
"I'm feeling better truly," I reassured Barasil as he helped me to my feet. A broken rib takes 4-6 weeks to heal with modern medicine, with Elvish medicine who knows? The bruising had started to fade already, and it's only been two days.
The remaining Elves were about to leave the Hornburg, though I'm not sure Barasil's plan. Nor do I know the plan going forward, it seems my memory has failed me as of late and though I know what's supposed to happen, it's been recited to me as poetry, I can't remember the next step.
It had been a peaceful two days, Aragorn and Gimli were often at my bedside sharing embarrassing stories of each other, and Legolas when he wasn't brooding over himself he too graced my presence. Eomah was on forced bedrest, which didn't do much for his pee behaviors, a horse or a bed, it didn't matter to him.
"-And then there was the time Gimli tried to outdrink an Elf in Lothlórien. It ended with him singing love songs to a tree." Aragorn teased.
"What how did I not know about this!" I exclaimed.
"Oh, don't listen to him! You should've seen Aragorn trying to cook. He managed to turn a stew into a charred disaster. Even the orcs wouldn't touch it!" Gimli flushed shaking a fist in Aragorn's direction.
"You still ate it," Aragorn countered.
My relationship with Legolas was rocky, to say the least, neither one of us apologized, we both continued tolerating each other pretending there wasn't an elephant in the room. The elephant of him treating me like a child. There was a smaller elephant in the room as well, him kissing me, but that one wasn't so big, it was shadowed by its mother.
We rarely got any alone time however which I was partly glad for, Barasil hardly left me alone, he was like a mother hen. So, we were polite, we didn't argue, he would comment on the weather, which I had not seen, being captive to my cot. And I would dryly comment on food.
"How... how are you feeling? I mean, considering the circumstances." He had asked once, and all I could do was blankly stare. I wished desperately for an excuse like Dargan had to speak my mind.
Elves, renowned for their wisdom, were a bit ignorant.
"Do you enjoy the stars? I find them to be quite comforting, even in the darkest of nights." He had asked a different time.
"Beautiful night tonight," I answered dryly.
Polite small talk nothing more.
"The Healer said you are well enough to travel," Barasil spoke as he stood tall next to me allowing me to lean onto him for support.
"I can't wait to go home and for this bad dream to be over," I sighed.
"Home?" He asked.
"Yeah, I miss everyone, even though Elves are weird." I teased.
He exhaled, "So you'll be coming with us?"
I shrugged. I still hadn't decided, Gandalf had wanted to speak to me and I kept putting the meeting off, I knew if I spoke with him he would spout off some riddle about how I was meant to be there. And I don't want that. I want to selfishly be back in my bed in the Golden Wood, and sleep for an eternity.
Speak of the devil and he will appear, that seems to also be true of wizards. As we rounded the corner Gandalf appeared.
"My Lady, it is so good to see you up," I grimaced, could I fake my death right now? Could I faint on command and get out of this conversation?
"I was just about to retrieve you, thank you Master Barasil," He nodded toward the Elf in dismissal and gave me his arm to lean into instead.
He hummed gently as we walked at a snail's pace through the great hall, several men and women alike threw out their exclamations and joy at seeing me up. It was such a stark contrast to how they looked at me when I entered Edoras.
"Valar be praised!"-" Béma praise be."
It was a bit annoying and I did not want to claim the title they knew me as now. Who wants to be a commander of an army they led to their own death? Not a good track record, please don't follow me into battle.
Gandalf used his staff to tap against a large wooden door that opened swiftly and he helped me into the chamber. The council room exuded an air of timeless solemnity, steeped in the rich history of the fortress. Stone walls, worn by the ages, framed the chamber, their surfaces adorned with meticulously crafted tapestries that depicted epic tales of valor and heroism. The tapestries bore the colors and symbols of the people of Rohan, but they were worn and frayed.
A long, heavy wooden table dominated the center of the room, polished to a gleaming finish, and surrounded by ornate chairs, each one bearing familiar faces. Documents and maps were spread across the table's surface, marked with strategic notations in anticipation of the council's deliberations.
Théoden King sat at the head of the table; next to him on either side were several of the Rohirrim even one woman. Aragorn, Gimli, and even Legolas were in the room. Candles, arranged in wrought-iron sconces, cast warm and flickering light across the chamber. I took my seat in between the Rohirrim and Aragorn.
"Éomer, Marshal of the Riddermark." The man next to me nodded his introduction, I remember him from the field, he was leading the charge with Gandalf.
"Calliope," I answered.
"Éowyn, shieldmaiden of Rohan." The only other woman in the room introduced herself.
Gandalf wasted no time beginning the meeting, "Sauron's wrath will be terrible, his retribution swift."
I glanced once then twice in Legolas's direction.
"The battle for Helm's Deep is over. The battle for Middle-earth is about to begin."
The maps in front of me depicted the intricate landscapes of Rohan, its rolling plains, formidable fortresses, and the winding rivers that crisscrossed the land.
"He will strike again, word will reach him soon of Saruman's failure, a decision on what to do now needs to be made."
"Hornburg is overflowed, we need to move our citizens back to Edoras my lord," One of the Rohirrim spoke to Théoden.
"The Elves haven't left yet?" He asked, staring at Legolas as if he would know more so than the rest of us, bit racist if you ask me.
"No, they plan to leave on the morrow." He answered his gaze flicked to mine.
"Gamling, see if they are willing to travel in our company to Edoras before they make for the Woods. We could use their numbers in another exodus,"
The man at his side nodded quickly.
"Saruman is weak now, and no doubt angry over his defeat at Helms Deep." Gandalf spoke running a hand through his beard, "Ride out with me with your men, he is weak and vulnerable."
Théoden scoffed, "You ask me to make my men ride out into battle after they fought till dawn not even four days ago? We haven't even buried our dead!"
"I ask you to fight for your men, fight for your country, fight so you can come home and not fight again."
"Who will protect the women and children?" He countered.
"We will protect ourselves," Éowyn spoke with a firm voice.
Théoden made to speak but she cut him off quickly, "All your words are but to say: you are a woman, and your part is in the house. But when the men have died in battle and honour, you leave to be burned in the house, for the men will need it no more. But I am of the House of Eorl and not a serving-woman. I can ride and wield blade, and I do not fear either pain or death."
"My men need rest and respite," Théoden shook his head.
"How long will that rest and respite last if Saruman isn't defeated?" Gandalf rose to his feet.
I stared at the maps then zoning out, I had no idea why I was included and it would have been too noticeable now if I tried to sneak out. I was forced to endure.
"-then we will ride out on the morrow," Théoden finally said with a sigh.
"For Rohan." Éomer slammed his fist onto the table.
"For Rohan," the mantra was repeated throughout the room.
When the meeting was dismissed I caught Gandalf by the arm, I didn't care the room hadn't completely cleared out and that Legolas was staring at me again. "Why did you bring me here?"
He rose a brow, "Did you wish to not know?"
I stared at him in exasperation, "I wasn't needed, there was no point to me being here, I thought you would tell me to do something!"
"Your path here on Middle-Earth is not mine to decide," he answered.
"So I can go home?"
"Is that what you wish?" He looked down at me with those hollowed eyes that seemed to see into my soul.
I glanced at Legolas again, he remained frozen, his hand still gripping the chair he previously sat in, eyes fixed on me.
"I'm not any help here," I muttered.
"Who told you that?" Gandalf tilted his head to the side.
"Where you find yourself young Calliope, you will be a help there."
I nodded dumbly and watched as he left and instead of following, I stood there meeting Legolas's stare with my own.
We both didn't move for several moments and the only movement in the room was the flickering candlelight along the walls. I wanted him to like me, I wanted him to be my friend and not have this strained relationship. I wanted more, foolishly, but I would never tell him that.
He took small steps toward me and I felt my feet moving on their own to him until we both stood in front of each other. "You are not a weak child," he spoke.
I wanted to roll my eyes and say 'I know,' but it felt inappropriate to interrupt his bad apology. "Forgive me, I feel like an Elfling around you. I lose all my self-control and nerve."
I gaped at him, is he serious? Is he seriously apologizing yet still putting the blame on me for his behavior?! "So it's my fault that YOU who has lived many lifetimes, and bragged about it." I narrowed my eyes, "cannot control yourself?"
He clenched his jaw and took a deep breath, I waved a hand at him, "Whatever, I forgive you."
I looked down at my feet shifting my weight between them, "I'm sorry too," I mumbled.
He threw his head back and laughed. It was that simple, the tension eased and we fell into an easy conversation. He gave me his arm and we walked out of the room together, me leaning on him for more than just support and him looking down at me with the shyest of smiles gracing his lips.
"Your nostrils flare when you frown," Legolas commented.
I smiled up at him, both of my arms wrapped around his, "Barasil says that too."
His countenance changed instantly and he became a blank rigid board. "You seem very comfortable in his company,"
I laughed, "I didn't like him at all at first. I guess our friendship didn't really grow until I became a healer, before that we mostly just teased each other."
I let out a breath, "He never told me he used to live in Mirkwood, were you two friends?"
He had paused our step; we were now in a secluded corridor, "For some time yes, we had a falling out in the last hundred years."
I didn't press him but he still continued as if a part of him needed to tell me. "Her name was Tauriel," I felt my breath catch in my throat. I knew Legolas was an Elf and Elves are allowed to love, yet selfishly I had hoped he hadn't, and that one day I would hold that love.
"She was head of the Wood-Elf guard, she was beautiful and wild…" he trailed off, "Barasil and I both had eyes for her-"
I interrupted him, "Was she your bonded?"
"No."
"Was she Barasil's?"
"No."
I shouldn't be upset, this was as it was in modern times, sleeping with other people was normal. But something about Legolas knowing he had a soulmate yet refusing to wait on them made my heart break. Soulmates were a fever dream in modern-day, but here they were real.
"It caused tension in our friendship, neither one of us relented in our pursuit."
"Who did she choose?" I asked quietly not wanting to hear the answer.
"A dwarf."
I couldn't help the laughter that bubbled out of me, "That's humbling," I tried to sympathize and failed to hide my smile.
That explains the tension between the two Elves, how one moment they'll be completely civil and friendly and another moment they're caught glaring at each other. How long would you hold a grudge if you lived for an eternity?
We continued our pace; I loosened my grip on his arm, "Barasil told me about bonding, you Elves are so confusing."
He looked down at me with furrowed brows, "We are confusing?"
I slapped my hand playfully against his arm, "Yes! You have someone made for you; he told me that Elves can tell by touch. Yet, instead of waiting for them you… you all have these relations!"
I continued, my voice taking on a bitter note, "When you meet her, don't you think it'll hurt to know she's been with others? Or won't it hurt her to know you fought over someone that belonged to another?"
I looked at my feet as he spoke, "It hurts me every day," he lifted my chin with his finger so I looked at him. "I cannot change my actions; it is a regret I will continue to carry."
I flushed and chewed on my bottom lip before shrugging, "Barasil doesn't share your sentiment, at home, I was his personal therapist when he had Elleth problems."
His body tensed and he withdrew his hand from my chin, "You both are very close." He observed as he walked me back to my cot, I was thankful for it and was beginning to tire already.
Tauriel, head of the Wood-Elf guard. That sounds much more like Commander Calliope than the real Calliope. Perhaps that's why Legolas saw me as a child, but why did he kiss me?