Lady of Sky (Legolas/OC)

Book 2: chapter 17

The funeral of the Kings' son was a heart-breaking display. The sorrow of the people of Rohan filled the air as the Kings' heir was put to rest.

I look over my weapons as they have been returned to me, checking if the blade of my sword isn't notched. I nod in satisfaction when I find nothing, strapping it to my side. I do not like the thought of a stranger handling my blade after I worked so hard on it.

Looking up, I lock eyes with the shield maiden, Éowyn. She seems to have a strong character, putting up a brave font despite all that happens around her. As soon as she notices me looking, her eyes flit elsewhere, though her curiosity is still to be seen in them. I wonder what she could find so interesting about me.

My eyes are drawn elsewhere as the door bursts open, revealing Gandalf and the King, followed by guards who carry two greatly weakened children.

I quickly gather they came alone from a village two days' travel from here. It was attacked and they are most likely orphaned. Éowyn makes sure they are fed and recover their strength as they explain what happen.

"They had no warning. They were unarmed. Now the wildmen are moving through the Westfold, burning as they go. Rick, cot and tree." Éowyn exclaims, anger coursing through her.

"Where's mama?" the little girl, Freda, enquires as tears gather at the corners of her eyes. Her brother says naught, nearly too tired to swallow his meal.

"Ssh." Éowyn shushes, stroking her hair.

It's a sad fact that children like them are left without parents every day because of Sauron's and Saruman's doings. It will only be more frequent now that the war is spreading. My heart goes out to them, having been so unfortunate to share their fate.

"This is but a taste of the terror that Saruman will unleash. 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. You have to fight." Gandalf urges the King, hoping to act. Sadly, the King is a stubborn man, as we all will soon learn.

"You have two thousand good men riding north as we speak. Éomer is loyal to you. His men will return and fight for their king." Aragorn reminds him.

"They will be three hundred leagues from here by now. Éomer cannot help us. I know what it is that you want of me. But I will not bring further death to my people. I will not risk open war." he counters.

"Open war is upon you. Whether you would risk it or not." Aragorn states pointedly. His words make the tension in the room grow.

"When last I looked, Théoden, not Aragorn, was king of Rohan." the King retorts his hard words in an equally hard voice.

Looking between the two, I feel the sharp edge of a knife that is cutting the tension between the two men. I nearly roll my eyes as I hear Gimli let out an obnoxious burp in the background.

"Then what is the King's decision?" Gandalf asks, trying to come to a solution without anyone biting another's head off.

"We leave for Helm's deep." are the Kings' words after some careful consideration. Seeing the look in his eyes, there is clearly no room left for arguing over the matter.

Very soon, the formally quiet city is bustling as its residents hurry to gather their things before leaving their homes behind to join the growing group departing for Helm's deep. A long train of people starts down the hills.

"Helm's deep! They flee to the mountains when they should stand and fight. Who will defend them if not their king?" Gimli huffs agitated when we have gathered in the stables.