The Last Othellan

The Call to War

"This should suit your purposes".

Éowyn straightened up with a short sword in her hand and I nodded, satisfied.

"Perfect"

We were in Edoras' armoury. Even though it was small, the weapons it contained were high quality, and being added to every minute by harassed looking blacksmiths preparing for the inevitable war. It was all I could do to stop myself from rushing off and examining a wall full of daggers with exquisite oak handles. Even though they were for ceremonial purposes not for battle, they were as sharp as the ones hanging by my side.

The others in the armoury paid Éowyn and I no attention. Éowyn was the king's niece and was entitled to go wherever she liked, and everyone in Edoras knew I was a member of the fellowship. The inattention was unusual, however. Usually, I had the avid stares of most of the town fixed on me even more than the others since I was female, but it didn't bother me. I had learned to be amused by the stares of men, who never seemed to be able to believe that I could actually fight until it was me saving their lives.

"Come", Éowyn instructed "Merry should be waiting now".

I followed her out of the door to the armoury and up a small pathway between the Golden Hall and a wall, half made of fortified wood and half thick stone. We came out of the alleyway onto the archery fields at the back of the Hall. An irresistible smirk crossed my face while I remembered first feeling Legolas' lips on mine in this very spot. He was there too this morning, having decided to practice with us, not that he really needed it.

He turned and nodded his head politely to the both of us, raising one eyebrow discretely at me. I knew perfectly well he was remembering the same thing as I. Turning back around, he loosed an arrow effortlessly, barely aiming before it hit the centre of the target. Merry was sat on the ground a few feet away from him, nervously fiddling with the Lothlorien brooch on his cloak and watching the path of Legolas' arrows as they flew.

Gimli told us he would come out later, but Aragorn was distracted. He spent his time sitting and staring in the direction of Gondor, hoping and at the same time fearing a light on the mountains meaning the beacons had been lit. I had eaten with him early that morning, and watched with him for a while. The burden he placed on himself, to protect the people of Gondor, was not an easy one to carry alone. He didn't speak much but, whenever one of the fellowship joined his constant vigil, I knew he was grateful for the company.

Legolas had told me Aragorn had sworn to Boromir that he would not let Minas Tirith fall. It was unspoken, as many things between us were, but we both knew it was our burden, too, to avenge our fallen friend, and to honour Boromir's much loved city. I watched the taut muscles in Legolas' shoulders, just discernible under his tunic as he drew back his bowstring. A slight smile played across my lips.

"What are you smirking at?" Éowyn asked. I pulled myself together and turned my head to see her grinning widely. Her eyes flickered between Legolas and me.

"Nothing" I insisted, stopping a blush creeping across my cheeks. I took Merry's new sword from Éowyn and gave it to the hobbit. He took it by the handle and spun it experimentally in his hand as I drew my own sword from my back.

Without warning, I swung my sword at him. Merry caught on immediately, clashing his sword with mine and looking a little alarmed by my sudden start to his practice.

"Good", I praised. "Your reactions are still quick, which is essential for disarming an opponent"

Merry's eyes lit up with excitement, and a little pride. "I won't disarm you" he grinned. I smiled down at him, a gleam in my eye.