Melting a Heart of Ice

“What is it like, Théoden King?” a fearful and young faerie asked while sitting on his shoulder as Aragorn held a meeting in his tent with a hooded visitor. He had left them to their privacy and was walking quietly through the resting camp with the young faerie man as company.

“What do you mean?” he questioned, glancing over to see the small creature staring off with troubled eyes.

“War. I have heard stories, and they frighten me very much. Your men, they speak of very frightening things.” He answered quietly, looking at his hands.

“Oh? What sort of frightening things?”

“The orcs, they said that they are very terrible beings. Big like you, but without hearts. They say that they will tear me apart with their hands, because I am as small as a bug! They say that in war, during battles, the ground turns red because of the blood! Men are cut to little pieces by orcs, and the orcs are cut up for revenge!

“Will… will I die tomorrow?”

“Life and death is very uncertain, Little One.” Théoden sighed, “What my men speak holds truth; war is a terrible thing and Battle is fierce. However, our hearts are strong in our cause, and that gives us strength. My men speak in fear, and do not mean to frighten you or any of your people.

“If you are frightened, my friend, ride with me and I shall protect you.” He smiled.

The faerie lit up as his wings began to twitch and glow in excitement, making King Théoden chuckle as he watched him. However, the young faerie’s excitement soon died, and he sat quietly once more on his shoulder.

“Tell me, what else troubles your mind, Little One?” he asked gently while taking him to rest in his hand for an easier conversation.

“After we fight, Lady Triina will be riding to Til’Arin to fight for the big city there. But the elf, Legolas, he needs to ride to his home too, in Mirkwood. And they won’t see each other for a very long time until the war is over completely! They will both be sad, and they will both be afraid for each other.

“And I am still frightened of the battle, too. If something happens to any of my new friends here, I will be very sad. I don’t want you to be hurt.”

Théoden smiled warmly at the small creature’s worry, and looked out over his men for a moment. “In battle, many lives will be lost.” He spoke sadly, “However, our cause is great, and we are willing to make great sacrifices for the good of our peoples.”

“But their families will be so sad!”

“Yes, and we will give them comfort should their loved ones fall.”

“I don’t think I’m ready for battle. The pictures and stories didn’t make it seem this frightening. I don’t like war anymore!”

“All will be well, little one.” Théoden laughed and began walking through the camp to look over his men while other faeries joined them.

As Aragorn held his meeting, and Théoden comforted his small guests, Triina dreamt a vision of Legolas walking through a dark, narrow passage in a cave. All around him was death even the spiders from their webs lay lifeless, and their cobwebs long empty. Before him walked a dark haired man, and though she could only see the back of him she knew it was Aragorn. They were searching for something, but she had no guess to what it may be.

Suddenly the dream changed to his body lying amongst the bones that littered the floor of the cave. Blood trickled from his mouth and into his matted hair, as he lay still and pale, bruised and broken. Dead.

“You cannot prevent what is meant to be. Save your heart the torture of fighting for him and return home! Your people need aid, and the battle your heart leads you into is folly. Leave here. Fly, Sillis Triina!” A quiet voice whispered as she stared at Legolas’ broken form, and the Til’Arin gem that lay shattered over his heart. “Leave here! Return home and save your people! Leave him. Go!”

With a sharp gasp she sat up and gave a cry of horror, tearing the blanket from her body and looking around to be sure of where she was.

“My Lady,” a soldier called, cautiously entering the tent to check on her after hearing her in such distress.

“I’m fine. It was a fell dream, nothing more.” She breathed, “Only a dream.”

The man nodded blankly and slowly turned to leave as she sank down once more onto her bed, breathing heavily and staring at her arrowhead. Her hand was shaking as she recalled the detail in her dream. Everything felt so real as she recalled the voice that was so close. She could feel its hot breath on her neck as it hissed in her ear, causing a shiver down her spine as her eyes flickered about her uneasily. “I’ll not leave him.” She announced firmly to the voice. Wherever it may be, and to whomever it belonged she cared not. They would not convince her to give up what she had struggled so long to attain.

As the time passed and things in the camp settled as much as they could on the eve of battle, Calneius noticed that Aragorn was preparing his horse to depart. Èowyn had spoken to him and was left with tears in her eyes for reasons he had no time to learn, though he suspected by the hurt in her eyes and frown on his features, it had to do with a love that was not returned to her. Others around the camp both Faerie and of Men began to question his departure, and it soon became belief that he left because he knew that there was no hope of survival in the coming battle. The Faeries became very fearful, and the men angry.

With a quick shake of his head he flew off to land on Gimli’s shoulder as he sat with Legolas, teasing him about wedding plans.

“You should go with your friend. He travels to a dangerous road.” He announced.

“Who?” Legolas questioned.

“Aragorn.” He answered and pointed off to the distance as he finished readying his steed, feeling his heart fill with comfort when the dwarf huffed and stalked over to meet his friend. Aragorn would not be traveling alone.

“Just where do you think you’re off to?” he demanded just as Aragorn reached the end of the camp.

“Not this time. This time you must stay, Gimli.” Aragorn answered quietly.

“Have you learned nothing of the stubbornness of Dwarves?” Legolas demanded, approaching with a horse of his own.

“Ya may as well accept it, we’re goin’ with you, Laddie.” Gimli announced firmly, causing a twinge of a smile to pull at Aragorn’s troubled features.

“How did you know? I meant for my departure to be secret. Or at least quick and hardly seen.”

“Small eyes watch over us, from hidden places all around. They see many things.” Legolas answered.

“Let’s just say a little bird told us.” Gimli added.

“Yes… let us ride swiftly; the road we travel… I don’t want Triina to follow. It is a dark path and she deserves a peaceful rest, at least on the eve of such a battle.” Legolas nodded.

They rode for quite a while without interruption when Gimli felt a sharp sting in right his cheek. Just as he went to voice his discomfort he saw Aragorn flinch and look quickly to the left.

“What-” Legolas was cut off by two small rocks hitting him, one bouncing off of his forehead, and one off his left collarbone.

Before long rocks from every direction were raining down on them, posing no danger, but causing a great deal of disturbance and discomfort; they could not continue until the rocks stopped falling.

Finally after what felt like far too long, a larger stone hit Legolas hard in the back of his shoulder, knocking him from his horse. After that, all pebbles stopped falling, and small wings began to glow all around them.

“Triina,” Aragorn warned as she stood staring with tears in her eyes at the elf that sat in the dirt before her.

“You left me,” she spoke, but her voice was dark and full of pain.

“Triina.” Aragorn warned again, dismounting his horse. He refused to allow another misunderstanding to tear his two friends apart again.

“This road is dark, and the dangers we ride to face great. I chose to leave you safe in the camp, so that you could rest before the battle.” Legolas confessed, “You seemed at peace when I checked on you as you slept, I did not want to disturb you. You deserve a night of peace after all that we have seen.”

“You. Left. Me!”

“He did it with your best interest in mind, lass, think of things from the elf’s mind.” Gimli interjected, having left Legolas’ horse with the aid of Aragorn.

“Legolas, I awoke from a dream darker than any I have seen, and could not return to rest. I was afraid and went to find you only to learn that you had left me! Do you know what I saw? You lay dead before me in a cave of bones, at the end of a dark road. This Road! Had I not pleaded for these faeries to stop you I fear I would have lost you!” she cried.

Legolas stood as a stab of pain went through his heart. “You would not have lost me.” He spoke in quiet Elvish, pulling her close against him and smoothing her tangled hair away from her face. “Don’t leave me again,” she ordered, being sure to use his native tongue before pulling away and mounting his horse.

“What are you doing?” Gimli questioned.

“Taking his horse. He cannot run faster than I can ride; I’m going with you down this road, to wherever it is you travel.” She answered firmly.

“And where shall Legolas ride?” Aragorn asked, his voice laced with amusement.

“He can ride with me, if he so chooses. Or he can ride with you.” She smirked, taking in her triumph as the elf sighed and mounted behind her, holding around her middle as Aragorn pulled Gimli up behind him.

“You’re cruel in punishments, lassie.” Gimli chuckled, earning a laugh from her as she thanked the faeries for their help and waved as they flew back to Théoden’s camp. With a quick look over her shoulder to Legolas she smiled to see him grinning back at her as she rode off after Aragorn.