An Ode for Cruelty

Gimli looked apprehensively at the blonde Elf as he bustled around the weapons room with uncharacteristic clumsiness. He’d practically run into the blade-filled room and muddled about, something in between disbelief and worry marring his face.
“That’s it,” Gimli grumbled, “What’s got you bothered, Lad?”
He could see Legolas pull his bottom lip in between his teeth as he through another mostly-sharp sword into a barrel for transport, “Nothing.”
“Rubbish,” Gimli refuted quickly, “A man with half a brain and no eyes could see that you’re troubled.”
Legolas looked down at the blunt sword in his hand, running his fingers lightly along its edge, “I heard Faelwen talking with Lady Eowyn. She thought that the two of us had wed. Faelwen laughed at the idea,” He decided on only telling half the story, “She laughed at the thought of a marriage with me.”
Legolas felt Gimli’s heavy hand collided with his shoulder in an attempt to offer comfort, “Instead of moping, maybe you should show her that you’re worth having, then.”

“I’m so sorry, Lady Faelwen,” Eowyn tried desperately to revive the conversation, “The choice must have been very difficult.”
Faelwen shrugged, tossing another dress into the growing pile, “Not really. It’s amazing what a supposedly ‘weak’ woman can do when what they truly love is threatened.”
Faelwen stopped working, her eyes boring into Eowyn, a knowing look behind her pink irises, “We need not hide who we are behind a useless title. Women can be even stronger than men. Men often lack heart and are easily corrupted when compared to us.”
Eowyn’s brow furrowed slightly, “How do you kn-,”
“I am quite perceptive. Just know that you need not be caged, nor treated as a trophy,” Faelwen smirked at the young woman before her, “I was like you once; I so desperately wanted to take action that every tiny obstacle seemed like a mountain in my path.”
Eowyn dropped her gaze, giving the dress in her hands a look of deep sorrow and anger, “And how did you overcome it?”
Faelwen picked up another dress, giving it the same look as Eowyn, “I thought about what was more important; the survival of better people or obeying an outdated set of standards.”
She flung the dress with all her might, taking in every wrinkle and crease left in the fabric as it landed, right on top of the pile of things to be discarded.

Legolas stood, watching the Rohirrim people scampering to secure enough supplies to last in Helm’s Deep; Men fit horses with saddles, bags and carts; Women loaded food and spare clothing into bags, passing them off to men to be thrown onto a cart; The elderly and many young children were loaded into carts or saddles so that they wouldn’t cause the group to move slowly.
“Man presta le, muin mellon? Car’al ped al’bach,” Aragorn spoke from beside him, startling the Elf from his thoughts. (What troubles you, dear friend? Do not say nothing)
“You would scold me for it, lir,” Legolas said lightly, letting joking ebb into his words. (Ranger)
“Again?” Aragorn looked at his friend, an eyebrow raised, “Any woman that makes you think so much must be worth quite a lot. Or is it that you always have women on your mind and I simply never knew?”
Legolas looked at his friend, an amused knot in his brow, “Aragorn, of the two of us, you have certainly spent longer thinking of women in your short years than I. You are already spoken for, whereas I am, to-date, not.”
“But you want to be,” Aragorn quipped quickly.
“Can’t argue against that,” Legolas eyes turned back out over town.”
“Just tell her,” Aragorn too, looked out over the fleeing people, “If you don’t take the time now, you may not get a chance.”
Legolas head turned quickly toward his friend, confusion etched into his fine features as he waited for an explanation, “Not if Theoden has his way. Or perhaps we will all survive somehow, she might be snatched away by another. I’m sure Haldir would be happy to have her; Or perhaps Eomer-,”
“Farn,” His tone came sharper than he realized. He made sure it fell before he continued, “Im henio, Aragorn.” (Enough. I understand, Aragorn)
Aragorn smiled at his friend, “Good,” He stood, clapping the Elf on the shoulder, “We have to get moving soon. Make sure your horse is ready.”