Ithildin - Legolas x OC

Chapter 18: Gentle heart

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A funeral is held for Theoden's son, and whilst he visits his grave, two young children arrive on horseback, their village burned and their people slaughtered.

I stand behind Aragorn with Legolas beside me leaning against a pillar as Aragorn and Gimli sit before us, the latter stuffing his face and drinking ale.

"They had no warning." Eowyn stands from where the children eat across the hall from us. "They were unarmed. Now the wildmen are moving through the Westfold, burning as they go." Aragorn and Legolas share a look. "Rick, cot and tree." She says harshly.

"Where is mama?" The young girl asks. Eowyn hushes her, wrapping a blanket over her shoulders.

"This is but a taste of the terror that Saruman will unleash." Gandalf tells Theoden, his head in his hands. "All the more potent for he is driven now by fear of Sauron. Ride out and meet him head on. Draw him away from your women and children." I watch Theoden slowly look up. "You must fight."

"You have two thousand good men riding North as we speak." Aragorn adds. "Eomer is loyal to you." I look at Theoden at the mention of his nephew, the rider we met two days prior. "His men will return and fight for their king."

Theoden stands. "They will be three hundred leagues from here by now." He walks over to the children across the hall. "Eomer cannot help us. I know what it is you want of me," he says as Gandalf walks down to him, "but I will not bring further death to my people. I will not risk open war."

"Open war is upon you." Aragorn says casually, holding his pipe. "Whether you risk it or not."

I watch as Theoden turns, stalking towards us—towards Aragorn.

"When last I looked, Theoden, not Aragorn, was King of Rohan."

I step forward, anger pulsing through me as I am about to jump to his defence, but without even looking at me, Aragorn quickly sticks out his hand, grabbing my wrist to stop me.

Theoden glares at me, daring me to speak. I glare back, but Gandalf steps forward instead.

"Then what is the King's decision?"

Theoden turns to him, pausing. "We will evacuate the city. We go to Helm's Deep." Without a word more, he stalks out of the hall.

Aragorn turns to me once he is gone and says quietly, letting go of my arm, "There is a time and a place for your loyalty, muinthel."

I scoff, looking away from him and turn to leave the hall.

"Amariel!" He calls, his voice deep, but I don't stop, nor do I look back to him.

I storm out and onto the steps of the hall, staring up at the inky black sky, turning my head when a small white bird perches beside me on the wall.

"Suilad meld er," I say softly, holding out my hand.
(Hello dear one.)

The bird jumps along, then into my open palm. I look down at her, the moonlight catching along her pale feathers.

Legolas quietly approaches. He says nothing at first, but comes to stand at my side, looking at the bird. He tentatively puts out his hand, using a single fingertip to stroke along her head and back.

"Who is your little friend?" He asks quietly.

"Me...in another life." I reply.

"Small?" He tilts his head, watching me smile and shake my head.

"Able to fly—to go wherever, whenever. Nothing remaining to keep me in one place."

"You do not like staying still." He pulls back his hand and posses it as a question, but more out of curiosity.