Chapter Six - Here We Are

He awoke a few hours later, feeling physically and mentally refreshed, and so he left to make ready his things.

There was a general buzz in the Hornburg as people did the same as what he intended, clearing away the general inevitable mess that occurred when so many humans were congregated in so small a place.

On his way up to the chamber he had occupied during his sickness, he noticed something that hurt more than any wound ever could: a broken bow. It was not one of the bows of the Men. It was of an intricate design similar to his own, its beauty broken by the splintered ends. There was blood soaked into it, and he knew with sickening certainty that it was from one of his kindred.

His mouth dried at the sight of it as he thought of the fact that it had belonged to one of his brethren. How had its owner died? Had he been felled by an Orc, just as he nearly had been? Or had he come to his end when the Deep was penetrated? But then he thought of how Helm's Deep had been penetrated, and he felt physically sick. It was his fault - many of the Orcs had flooded into the Deep when that hole had been blasted into the Wall ... because he had failed to do his task properly.

He walked away from the ruined weapon, not really seeing where he was going. As it was, his feet carried him to the chamber, and he set to organising his own weaponry. His hands shook as he fitted his bow in its slot in his quiver when he unwillingly brought to his attention the fact that he had a new string - the bow downstairs had had no string. It was Haldir's bow that lay in bits. Haldir had died at the hands of Orcs that had entered through the wrecked Wall.

So woven was he in this gutting truth that he never even noticed Aragorn enter.

'Good evening, mellon nin.' There was no answer. 'Mellon nin?' Aragorn gazed at the golden bowed head worriedly. 'Legolas?'

The Elf's head snapped up at being addressed, something glowing behind his blue eyes that Aragorn had never seen before. What was it? Puzzlement? Confusion? He looked lost.

Legolas turned sharply on his heel so abruptly that it startled the Man who had anticipated no such movement. Before he could even ask what the matter was, the Elf had departed from the room, his speed such that his cloak whirled out behind him as he fled out of the door.

Some part of him had known that the Elf would be out here. The stars shimmered in the heavens, and the wind whipped the Prince's golden tresses out behind his head as he stood on the Deeping Wall looking out over the battlefield that had been.

Aragorn decided that the best approach was to creep up behind the Elf until he noticed his presence rather than to shout out to him; Aragorn knew not what Legolas was doing out here at this time of night in the bellowing wind, and had no intention of disturbing the Elf's train of thought.

He made a steady progression over the rubble that lay strewn over the Wall to the side of the Prince, and came to a stop twenty yards from him. It shocked the Man to see tears that looked like strains of mithril by the moonlight trailing down the fair face, forced to odd angles by the wind.

The eyes that glimmered like silver as they captured the moonlight flickered briefly over to Aragorn. The look was not one of the Prince's usual stares - there was something deep and unfathomable to it as he regarded his friend, caring nothing for the strands of hair that flung themselves across those pools of intense blue. They were powerful to perceive - burning like cold flames as they watched without blinking in the gale that dried any other set of eyes - Aragorn had to blink several times to prevent his own from stinging.

Legolas left his post abruptly and went to perch himself at the very edge of the shattered rock to the side of the blasted Wall, his feet dangling into the gaping chasm. As far as Aragorn read this sign, Legolas wished to be alone - never would he turn his back to his friend in such a manner if he were of a sweeter temper. For Legolas did have a temper - it had never flashed its keen-edged claws while they had been part of the Fellowship (much to Aragorn's relief), but there was something about his behaviour that suggested that the claws had been sharpened for use again.

His very posture as he sat indicated that he wished for solitude - his shoulders were slumped, his back bent and head turned defiantly down into the great gap that had once been stone.

'You required something, Estel?' His words had been uttered quietly, yet the wind had allowed them to carry to Aragorn as if it feared what would happen if it didn't. Despite his politeness, Aragorn thought that he may have well have just snapped 'What do you want?' Aragorn thought before he answered, sniffing and closing his eyes to the pounding of the wind. 'Yes.'

'What?' There was sharpness there; unintentional - may be - but it was there all the same.

He crossed the distance between himself and the Elf to take a place by his side. Legolas neither spoke nor even gave him half a glance as he did so. 'I want you to tell me what the matter is.' This was answered only by a charged silence in which the Elf defiantly chewed at his cheek and kept his lips tightly together, gazing down into the giant gap in the Wall.

'It'll take them a long time to fill that hole,' Aragorn observed.

'They wouldn't need to had I done what I was supposed to properly.' There was pure icy venom in his voice as he spoke these words. So incredibly bitter, they were practically spat from his mouth as though they held some kind of rancid flavour. He just sat and toyed with a piece of stone.

Ah. So that was the problem; he blamed himself for the explosion.

'It was not your fault, Legolas-'

The stone was thrown with such force at the other side of the Wall that when it ricocheted off of the masonry it made some more rock crumble. He gyrated sharply on the Man, his eyes burning with a fierce fire so intense it was frightening to see.

'Of course it was my fault! Who else's could it possibly be? Had I killed that Orc with the torch the Wall would be intact, my kin would still be here, the Deep would never have been penetrated and Haldir would still be alive...' His shout faded and broke on the final words, and he jerked his head back to its previous position angrily, a heavy scowl of rage over his face.

'Legolas, it wasn't your fault; it was a difficult shot to take. It was running-'

'I know what it was doing!'

'You shouldn't put yourself through this over something that-' Aragorn's speech stopped as the Elf rose from his seat and stalked off, his heavy footfalls depicting his anger even above the roar of the wind.

'Don't' walk away from me, Legolas!'

The Elf spun round, breathing heavily, his face contorted with the raw emotion that swept through his body like a storm taking all calm and rational thought from him.

'I am chiefly responsible for the deaths of my own kin and those men! They died because I failed in what I had to do. Do NOT tell me that it was a difficult shot, that it wasn't my fault because it was!'

Aragorn got to his feet to go to his friend. He was so impossible to speak to when he was this angry. 'Victory carries a price, Legolas; you yourself paid some of that price when you were injured.'

Legolas snorted disdainfully at this, tossing his head, an ugly sneer taking over his fair features.

'If I had paid some of the price, Aragorn son of Arathorn-' Legolas practically spat his friends' name from his mouth '-then I would be dead! I paid no price, though I deserve to with my life.'

'You very nearly did.'

'I wish I had!'

'Please don't say things like that when we worked so hard to keep you with us. None of it was your-' His sentence was cut short as a fist connected with the side of his jaw, throwing his head back. The coppery taste of blood invaded his mouth as a cut made by his teeth in his cheek announced its' presence to him.

'DON'T YOU DARE SAY IT WASN'T MY FAULT AGAIN, ARAGORN!'

Aragorn straightened and watched his companion with shock in his eyes. Never had Legolas struck him, even during his worst temper - which did not even rival this one, as the Elf stood before him, his stance ready for another possible hit if provoked, his teeth bared in a terrible snarl, and a hand covering his wound.

'Did you cause yourself pain when you punched me?' The last thing Aragorn wanted was for the injury to open up again.

The Mirkwoodian Prince turned away again, marching off into the night, his cloak billowing out behind him and not even dignifying Aragorn with an answer.

'Where are you going?'

'Away from anyone else I can hurt; I go to receive punishment for my crime.'

'You committed no crime!'

'I am not needed here - I killed the one my people needed.'

Tears came to Aragorn's eyes. The Elf's despair and grief in what he had convinced himself he had done would surely kill him he was so distressed; either by his own hand or another means.

'But you are needed,' Aragorn cried to the retreating back. 'I need you.' It was selfish, he knew, but it was true.

His pace slowed to a stop, but he did not permit himself to turn about.

'I can't do this without you, mellon nin.' These last words had been spoken much quieter, but they had evidently carried to where they were required to be, as the Elf's head bowed as he stood perfectly still, the wind seemingly leaving him well alone as it buffeted everything else.

Aragorn proceeded to his side, and tentatively extended a hand to Legolas' shoulder. The Elf flinched as it touched him, his muscles tense and as hard as the very rock under their feet.

'You are very much loved, Legolas, and believe me, no-one blames you for what happened; if they did we wouldn't have been so desperate to save your life.'

He sank down to the dust and rubble as he emotionally collapsed, becoming a shuddering figure wrapped in grief and confusion as he was swept up in the tide of pain which engulfed his heart. Aragorn was happy - in a respect - that this had come about; this was so much easier to control than an enraged Legolas. Enraged Legolas was dangerous, as his jaw had found out to his great discomfort.

All Aragorn could do was stand by his friend with his hand on the trembling shoulder, occasionally giving it a firm clench of encouragement.

Legolas leaned forward into his hands, sobbing openly into his palms all of the pain and worry and fear that had made him so aggressive and angry.

But then he straightened suddenly as if by some powerful resolve after the course of about ten minutes, no longer crying but taking deep steadying breaths. He then lifted himself from the ground and turned to face Aragorn, his countenance grave as his red glimmering eyes locked with those of the Man.

'I am sorry, mellon nin; I never meant to strike you.'

Aragorn shook his head slowly at this, never taking his grey eyes from the unblinking gaze of the Elf.

'No, Legolas. I want no apology. Not this time. I deserved it - no, I did,' he added when he saw the Prince's mouth move in protest. 'I pushed too much; I really did deserve it.'

Legolas gave a sigh at his words, the very sound of the released breath indicating that he could not agree less.

Aragorn thought presently of all of the things that Legolas had said - or shouted - in his sleep a few nights previous to that. He had to know...

'Legolas, you said some - things during your fever that have made me consider my ability as your leader.'

Legolas shifted uneasily under Aragorn's stare. 'Things I said? I said things?' he asked, the trepidation as clear in his voice as the sun in a cloudless sky. 'What did I say?'

'Well,' began Aragorn, permitting himself a small smile, 'you did say that I was a moron, and you told Gimli he was obsessed with holes in the ground.'

'Gimli is obsessed with holes in the ground - but I actually said that? Aragorn I'm sor-'

'Stop apologising! It made us laugh. But you said something that forced me to consider ... you said that I never listen to you. Do you really feel that way?'

Legolas stood chewing his cheek again as he thought, knowing full well what the answer was and debating with himself as to whether he ought to answer truthfully or not. He decided that he should.

'I gave you two warnings while we were part of the Fellowship, if you recall: one in Moria and the other in the Emin Muil. Both times I said we should leave. Both times you took no action. Both times we lost someone.'

'And what of my leadership? Did I send Frodo to his death when I let him go? If I make such appalling decisions as the leader of seven then what will I be like as a King?'

Finally, Legolas said in his normal, gentle voice: 'I hated being in the Mines - you know that. They made me ill at ease; I was jumpy and desperate for the sun's kiss on my face again.

'Emin Muil unnerved me because it was too quiet. I get forebodings, Aragorn. You shouldn't base any thing about your leadership on them. You have got us this far without leading us astray, and I personally hold no doubt about your abilities.'

He contemplated the words of the Elf for a time, mulling over them in his mind. Legolas was right - he had told him of possible danger and he had ignored him.

'And what about my abilities as a friend, Legolas? What about that? I didn't listen to you when you tried to speak to me. It wasn't even me who went to find your things - Gimli did that. How can I call myself friend when I fail in so many aspects of what friendship requires?' Tears were in his eyes again as he said this, the feeling of betraying the Elf powerful in his breast.

Legolas sighed and observed the Man with his sapphire eyes, a small smile curling his lips. 'Oh Aragorn. True, I love my weapons. But fabled is the real value of those objects that we deem to be close to our hearts - beside our friends. After all, what is a bow? It's a piece of pliable wood, no more. I can't talk to it, or enjoy its presence. It's the same for knives. Just cold steel. You are not dead wood or cold steel. You are flesh and blood, just like me - I can't relate all too well with my weapons like I can with you.

'Yes, you are our leader. But you are more than that: you are our friend - my friend. My very best friend that I have ever had.

'You stayed with me the whole time when I was ill. You pained over my condition - I saw it in your face when I awoke.

'And don't despair like that over your choices- Hope may seem to have faded like the pale light of twilight into darkness, and you may deem all to be lost to the night. But remember this: light may fade into night, but the Sun will always bring light back to the world in the morning, and as long as the Sun rises Hope will always accompany her.'

Legolas' eyes were soft in their gaze now, the moon-light that they caught making them simply cooler and more complacent - the fire had gone out and the embers had been blown away in the gale. There was no anger or hatred or any other kind of strong emotion there any more - save for the fierce adoration and love that he held for Aragorn. They had a friendship that could not be severed by either harsh words, war or death. There was nothing on that Middle-earth that could persuade either of them to think of the other with ill inclination.

'I'm sorry, Legolas.'

The Elf laughed his sweet harmonious laugh into the night - it was, Aragorn noted, the first time he'd laughed for ages.

'No, Aragorn. I want no apology.' He even wagged his finger at him, forcing a smile to crack Aragorn's own features.

'Then I thank you - your words do bring back to me my Hope.'

'That was their intention,' the Elf grinned.

'Come, Legolas, let us go inside where it is warmer and the wind isn't so harsh-'

'-Lest it be Gimli's snoring.'

'I'll not tell him you said that.'

They set off together down the steps, each feeling lighter within themselves than they had half an hour ago, with Legolas singing a tune lightly in Sindarin, Aragorn listening intently to it. Legolas stopped his song suddenly and paused, seemingly contemplating something, before he said: 'The Lady Éowyn is a wonderful woman for sewing my cloths for me.'

'That she is,' Aragorn complied, wondering where this had come from.

'She likes you, Aragorn.' The Elf cut in front of Aragorn so sharply he nearly walked straight into him. 'I fear that she loves you.'

Aragorn could do naught but gape at Legolas, whose face was so serious he was beginning to look like Celeborn.

'And I ask you now, do you love her in return?' He had been so frank in his choice of words that Aragorn could only give an equally frank answer... 'No.'

'You are sure of this?'

'Of course I'm sure of it!'

'Good. Because you have promised yourself to Arwen Undómiel, and it would grieve me to see her hurt if you had found a new love. By all means be her friend, but let it go no further than that - and be sure that she knows there is nothing between you.' He had spoken incredibly bluntly, he knew - but, at that moment in time, he was in no mood to dance about the subject that he had meant to breech to Aragorn for days. He just hoped that Aragorn would listen to his advice this time as he had failed to do on so many occasions. 'And I would hate to think that I salvaged the Evenstar for no reason.'

Aragorn gave a snort at this. 'You have changed greatly since you awoke, mellon nin.'

'I have?'

'Yes. Your tongue is much sharper than it used to be, and you are voicing your thoughts a lot more.'

'Oh. It must be that brandy that Gimli gave me...'

'You've had brandy? Gimli gave you brandy?'

The pure horror in Aragorn's voice made the Elf laugh. 'No, Aragorn, I was jesting. I had some miruvor from Celdan before he departed - which is far better than any brandy.'

'Whatever you have drunk, it's gone to your head!'

'You badger like a Dwarf-maid-'

'-And what's wrong with Dwarf-maids?' Gimli stood framed in the doorway of the Hornburg, his feet staggered and hands on hips, eyes fixed on his Elven companion with a deeply furrowed brow.

'I never said there was anything wrong with them - how could I when we have one of our very own?'

Gimli gave a growl at this jest - but he knew that jest was all that it was and, as he could think of no comeback at that moment in time, he changed the subject. ''Tis freezing out here - you less hardy Men and Elves can't be out in such chill weather.'

This caused two pairs of eyebrows to raise.

'Oh, we forgot,' Legolas chaffed. ''Twas you who had to stop for us to catch you up when we ran after Merry and Pippin.'

'Yes,' acceded Aragorn. 'And it wasn't you who had to be saved from - what was it, Legolas? Two or three wargs? I forget.'

'Actually,' Gimli retorted haughtily, scowling at the pair, 'it was one.'

'Only one, eh?' Legolas jeered.

'Did I not say that the one you shot with your fancy bow counted as mine?'

'And did I not ignore you and add it to my own tally?'

That reminded the Dwarf of something which he had meant to ask the Elf for days. 'What was your tally in the end?'

'Counting or not the wargs and Orcs we got on the way here?'

'Not.'

The Elf stood musing for a time, chewing on his cheek as he tried to remember the numbers that he had slain during the battle. His problem was recalling where he had continued from, as he had included the ones from the road. 'Forty-two,' he eventually declared.

'Ha! Forty-three!' The Dwarf progressed inside, the other two following, both grinning at the euphoria of their companion as he laughed and mocked his tall friend: 'Forty-two! A mere forty-two! Who's laughing now, Master Elf?'

Legolas abruptly began to cough - Aragorn could have sworn that he heard a word in it. So did Gimli, quite clearly, for he stopped in his tracks and fixed the Elf with an accusing stare.

'What did you just say?' His intonation was filled with suspicion as he eyed Legolas.

'Say, Gimli? I said nothing: I coughed.'

'Yes you did, you said something - and you don't have a cough.'

'What did I say?' Legolas crossed his arms on his chest and returned the stare in a mocking imitation of the Dwarf. Aragorn knew that he was teasing him, trying to force him to repeat the word.

'You said ''tossed''-' Something suddenly clicked in his head, and he turned his glare to Aragorn.

'''Don't tell the Elf'', I said: and what do you do? You tell the Elf!'

Aragorn's eyes were on Legolas, who watched him in return with a smirk on his face. 'You were asleep! I only said that to test whether you slept or not, knowing that you would react!'

'Correction, Aragorn: I was on the verge of sleep. I heard what you said still.

'And I believe that that evens us out, Master Dwarf.'

Gimli still glared at the Elf; but his disarming smile soon caused it to fade away. 'I can't stay mad at you, I suppose - you're alive, and for that I am thankful.'

Legolas bowed to these words in his Elven way that declared that this had been taken to heart. 'I shall never mention it again as long as I live.'

Well peeps, there you go! Hope you all enjoyed it – I know that loads of it was quite depressing, but there you go; I gave it a fairly light ending – I hope.