Adult-FanFiction.org : Lord of the Rings

Love's Redemption	By : mthorsta Category: -Multi-Age > Het - Male/Female Views: 7108 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 1
Disclaimer: I do not own the Lord of the Rings (and associated) book series, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 19
- 20
- 21
The chapter that almost never was�
   A few weeks ago, my hard drive suffered a massive cerebral hemorrhage and died. Now I know what you�re thinking: ELoI, of course you backed up your files, right? Heh, heh, ah, no � which is about as smart as a coal miner not having life insurance. Previous chapters posted on my website are stored on the host�s server, but my current chapter � all 11,000 and some words � subsequently split into two chapters but still largely incomplete, was stored only on my hard drive. Doh!
   But fortune smiled down on me because about two days prior, I received an ominous warning � a serious error which I could not fix. In desperation, I took it to be repaired. They performed C.P.R. (computer processor resuscitation) and brought it back to life. Narrowly escaping disaster, I immediately bought a little zip drive. Although I thought I had plenty of time to get around to backing up my files, I just couldn�t resist my new little gadget and plugged it in to see how it worked. I quickly dumped the Love�s Redemption file and my pictures on to it and rejoiced in my new-found techno-geekdom. Unfortunately, I grossly underestimated the amount of space I needed and that�s all that would fit.
   I shut the computer down that night and in the morning, I discovered it had died peacefully in its sleep. Story and pictures saved! Everything else? Reduced to useless bits of 0s and 1s. Hundreds of dollars worth of music � lost. Documents, financial information, and software � lost. E-mail addressed, saved emails, and my connection to the world � lost. It was then I realized that my life was so completely integrated into my computer, I could possibly qualify as a Borg. With my fiber optic umbilical cord now severed, I didn�t know what to do with myself and I wandered around the house like a cow left out to pasture. After about a week, I picked up my beloved computer from the repair shop complete with a shiny, new�empty hard drive. I got to work right away reloading and downloading my various software programs and am happy to report that I received full cooperation from Wal-Mart and iTunes in the restoration effort of my music although I suspect secretly they are snickering at my idiocy.
   Unfortunately, the stress and time spend rebuilding the padded walls of cyberspace around me completely wiped out any creativity I may have had previously (although that too is questionable). But finally, here it is in all of its mediocre glory for your reading enjoyment � chapter 18. All things told, my story does have a happy ending but I learned a hard lesson about data management and recovery: There are some things money can�t buy. For everything else, there�s MasterCard.
   New hard drive including labor: $230.00

   Replacing the fried video card: $79.99

   Zip drive: $24.99

   Not having to write this chapter over again: Priceless
Chapter 18 - Love Lies Bleeding
   When Jordan woke, the sun having already risen, was streaming into her quarters. Still groggy from sleep, she blinked a few times and shielded her eyes from the sun with her hand. Suddenly, she panicked realizing it was morning and she had overslept.

   �No, no, no!� She shrieked.

   She had only meant to rest for an hour or so! Maybe there was a chance Legolas hadn�t left yet. She ran out the door not caring if she was still in her sleeping gown and pounded on his door furiously.

   �Legolas!� She cried. �If you�re there, open the door, please! I need to talk to you! Legolas!�
   From inside her quarters, Eowyn heard someone yelling and pounding, so she stepped out into the corridor to see what the matter was. She saw Jordan in a frenzy, standing in front of Legolas� door. Apparently, she did not know he had already gone.

   �Legolas is not there, Jordan. The scouting party left at dawn.� Eowyn informed her.

   Jordan covered her face with her hands. �I�m too late.� She wailed. �What if something happens to him?�

   �Nothing is going to happen to Legolas. What in blazes are you talking about?� Eowyn said, completely confused by Jordan�s strange behavior.

   �I know you are probably still angry with me, but if you would come in, I can explain.�

   Jordan looked so forlorn, Eowyn put her own issue with the woman aside and followed her into her quarters. Besides, her curiosity was too great.

   �Now what did you mean out in the corridor? What are you too late for?� Eowyn said as she walked over to the chair to sit down.

   �To tell Legolas that I haven�t left Middle-earth; to tell him how I feel.�

   �Left Middle-earth? Wait, you found the linking book?�

   �Yes, you�re about to sit on it.�

   Eowyn turned around to see the small, leather-bound book lying on the seat. She picked it up cautiously, as if it were somehow dangerous, and quickly handed it to Jordan before she finally sat down.

   �You said it was not in the archives. Where then did you find it?�

   �It was among Turgon�s belongings.�

   �Turgon? Why would Turgon have it? Where did he find it?�

   �No one knows and now no one ever will. It is a secret he has taken to his grave.�

   �So, you told Legolas that you have the linking book and were going to use it to return home. What did he say to that?� Eowyn asked, fully knowing Legolas would not have taken it very well.

   Jordan covered her face with her hands and shook her head as she sat down on the edge of the bed.

   �Oh Eowyn, it was awful. We got into a horrible argument. He tried to convince me to stay. He said he thought we were destined by the Valar to be together, but I didn�t believe him. I wouldn�t listen. In my stubbornness, I still thought what I was doing was for the best.�

   Jordan�s last sentence struck a chord with Eowyn. She was reminded of Aragorn and how, despite his love for Arwen, he tried to push her away, hoping she would choose to be counted among the Elves and sail to Valinor once her reason for remaining in Middle-earth was gone. However, Jordan and Legolas� situation was somewhat different. Legolas would not have to surrender his immortality. He could still take a ship into the west, provided there were any left to take. But until her death, he would be bound to her side and to Middle-earth and afterward, he would spend the rest of his life mourning his love.

   �I think I finally understand now. You were trying to let him go; to save him from suffering after you pass on. Is that the way of it?�

   �That is part of it. I�ve had a pretty difficult time dealing with the fact that Legolas is immortal and that should we decide to marry one day, he will suffer for the rest of eternity after I am gone. I thought how could he possibly bear that? It�s unfathomable! A human at least would be given reprieve by their own passing, but it is not so for him. I felt selfish for wanting something that would cause him pain. I thought by leaving, I could give him a chance for a happier life. I thought maybe he would find another Elf to share his life with.�

   �But now you have had a change of heart?�

   �Well, yes and no.� Jordan told Eowyn about the appearance of Est� and her mystical advice. �After she disappeared, I sat there contemplating the situation. I didn�t know what to do. I was so torn. If I stayed, there was a chance we could be happy, but at what price? If I left, he may be hurt for a while, but perhaps he would find true happiness with one who he could spend eternity with. Both Legolas and Est� spoke of fate. Now, I have never been one to put much stock in fate or destiny but what happened next made me wonder if maybe I was wrong. I opened the linking book while considering my options and discovered that the link was broken. Earlier that evening, when I showed it to Legolas, it was working, but it had become unstable.�
   �Whether by fate or chance, I knew then, with absolute certainty, there would be no going back and I panicked. I thought that to remain in Middle-earth meant I would have to deny what my heart truly wanted and that was to be with Legolas. But I realized that it was not only our differences and the difficulties we faced that kept me apart from him, it was my own fears. I was afraid of being hurt; I was afraid of hurting others by the choices I made. I have never met anyone like Legolas before. He is brave and honorable and fearless. Without hesitation or concern for his own well-being, was willing to trade an eternity of happiness for only just a moment to be with me, and what was I willing to risk for him? Nothing!� She spat. �I was a coward; afraid to face an uncertain future; unable to accept that someone would make such a sacrifice for me. Instead of facing my fears, I chose to run away. As I sat thinking about the last few years of my life, I finally came to understand that whether in my world or his, if I did not face my fears, I would never find happiness � so that is what I intended to do. I decided now was the time before I lost Legolas for good. It was a very difficult and frightening decision for me, but the more I embraced the idea, I felt freed, not trapped. Middle-earth is my home now, but that does not mean I have to live in it alone. I wanted to go to him and tell him how sorry I was for hurting him, that I had made a mistake, and beg of his forgiveness but I was so exhausted, I fell asleep.� Jordan hung her head. �I�m so afraid something will happen to him and I�ll never have the chance. I feel terrible that the last words we spoke to each other were in anger.�

   �I know this is hard for you to understand but here, battle has been a part of life for many years. I worry for Faramir as well, but both he and Legolas are well equipped in skill and strength. Legolas is an Elven warrior. He will return.�

   �I can only hope you are right.�

   Eowyn paused for a moment, then said, �I want to apologize for getting angry with you that day in the archives. I thought you were simply acting foolish and with disregard for Legolas� feelings. I did not realize just how difficult and complex a pairing between an Elf and a mortal really was. Forgive me. I misjudged you.�

   �Thank you. I appreciate that.�

   �May I see the linking book? With all this talk about it, I am quite curious.�

   �Sure, go ahead.� Jordan said and handed the book to her.

   Eowyn turned it this way and that, studying the worn leather covering. It was so strange to think this material was not from her world.

   �Where is the, um, link�linking�� Eowyn began, unable to recall the correct term.

   �The linking panel? In the front of the book.�

   Eowyn opened the front cover to a blank page and looked at Jordan questioningly.

   �Turn the page.� Jordan said. �That�s actually a protective page so you do not touch the linking panel inadvertently, but you don�t have to worry about that anymore.�

   Eowyn turned the page and finally saw the linking panel for herself. She couldn�t believe that this could whisk someone off to a different world.

   �What is this place?� She asked pointing to the linking panel; the tip of her finger almost touching the page.

   �Oh, it�s�� Jordan glanced down at the book and froze. �Uh�Eowyn, don�t touch it.�

   Jordan�s strange tone frightened her and she immediately threw the book away from her and it landed on the floor with a dull thud.

   �I meant the page, not the book.�

   �Oh.�

   Jordan snatched it up and turned to the linking panel. It was clear. There was no distortion.

   �What is wrong?�

   �The linking panel�it is working again.�

   Eowyn peered at it cautiously. Neither woman spoke as they each stared at the linking panel.
   Jordan was utterly confused. Had she imagined the whole thing? Had Est� been there at all?

   �Wait! The handkerchief!� Jordan thought. �I was holding it when I fell asleep.�

   Eowyn watched in bewilderment as Jordan rushed over to the bed and started lifting the pillows up and tossing them aside.

   �What are you doing?� Eowyn asked.

   There it was underneath one of the pillows. Jordan clutched it to her chest, breathing a sigh of relief.

   �I don�t know how the linking panel is working again. I swear it was broken last night. So, I was afraid I had imagined the whole thing, but this handkerchief is proof. She was there. She gave it to me.�

   �May I see it?�

   Jordan handed her the handkerchief and asked, �Do you know of anyone named Est� in the city here? I want to find her and at least offer to return it. It looks special, like an heirloom or something.�

   Eowyn shook her head as she inspected the cloth. �I am not familiar with many of the city folk, but even so, I have never heard of a woman called such.� Eowyn said and handed the handkerchief back to Jordan who tucked it in her sleeve for safe keeping. Neither one spoke for a while, each thinking their own thoughts.
   �Now that the linking panel is working, what are you going to do?� Eowyn asked finally.

   Jordan reflected on it for a moment and then said, �I know I have no possessions. I have no gold or jewels. I am not royalty nor do I stand to inherit anything of value. The only thing I have to offer Legolas is my love. If he will not accept it, the most I will suffer is a broken heart, the prospect of which terrifies me, but at least then I can go on knowing I faced my fears. This,� Jordan said, motioning to the book, �changes nothing. I want to be with Legolas, if he will have me. I cannot imagine going back now.�

   �Why would Legolas not accept your love? When he spoke about a union between the two of you, he spoke of marriage. That is no trifling statement. Elves take the prospect of marriage very seriously.�

   �There is something in my past that may change the way he feels about me.�

   �Let the past remain as such. Whatever it was, it occurred in your old life. Think of this as a rebirth. You have a new life now, here in Middle-earth.�

   �No, I can�t. Legolas must know. I cannot keep this from him.�

   �Will you speak of it to me? Perhaps I can help.�
   Jordan sighed heavily. �Remember when we first arrived in the city and there was the matter of the room mix up?�

   �Yes, I remember.�

   �Well, as you know, this room only has one bed. I offered to share it with Legolas so that he would not have to sleep on the floor or in the chair, but he declined, saying that to share a bed with a female before marriage was forbidden. I realized if that was the custom of his people, then he has never had, um�he has never bedded anyone before.�

   �Why should that matter?�

   �Because I have! Several years ago, I was in love with a man named Christian. I worked with him at the hospital. We were together for a couple of years. I guess here you would call it �courting�.� Jordan paused a moment. �It�s very common thing to do outside of the bounds of marriage in my world.�

   Eowyn�s expression became one of sympathy as she was beginning to understand Jordan�s dilemma. �Oh Jordan, you think Legolas will not want you because of it.�

   �Yes.�
   Jordan explained how, in the time period of her world that best matched Middle Earth�s, any bride of royalty was expected to be pure, so she assumed it would be the same here. Legolas was a prince. She feared that by law he would have to deny her even though he cared about her or worse that he would simply turn his back on her.

   �I was too afraid to tell him. I decided the best thing to do was just leave before either of us became too attached. But I�m not going to be afraid anymore. I am going to tell him everything even if it means that I might lose him.�

   �You keep much to yourself and worry needlessly. Had you talked to someone sooner, you would have learned that this is not so. There is no law that dictates a certain standing of one�s betrothed. What of the woman whose husband is killed in battle? If she desired to marry again, would she not be in the same situation? Although they are immortal, Elves can be killed in battle, and it is not forbidden for one to remarry. Most simply choose not to because they share such a strong bond with their spouse, even in death. I cannot say with absolute certainty how Legolas would feel about it, but he is wise enough to understand the differences between your world and ours. I do not think that he would shun you.�

   Jordan looked at Eowyn with tears in her eyes. �You don�t?�

   �No.�

   She closed her eyes and exhaled completely. �Oh, you don�t know how relieved I am to hear that.�

   It was such an emotional release to feel the burden of her worries lifted and the tears streamed freely down her face.

   �There now, there is no need to cry. It will be alright.�

   Eowyn went over to her and hugged her. Jordan let out an embarrassed laugh through her tears.

   �I�m sorry. I hate crying and I seem to do it so often lately.� She said with a sniff. She pulled out the handkerchief from Est� that she had tucked in her sleeve and wiped her eyes. �Thank you, Eowyn�

   �What ever came to pass between you and this man, Christian?�

   �Um�� Her voice wavered. �I found out he had been sleeping with another woman behind my back.�

   Eowyn looked somewhat confused, so Jordan tried to think of some other way to rephrase it. �Ah, you know. He bedded her too, while he was courting me.�

   �Oh. I see.�

   �She ended up carrying his child, so he left me to marry her.�
   She left out some of the finer details which would only confuse Eowyn - How Christian owned the estate they shared and that he insisted she move out immediately. His new fianc�e Victoria - socialite and heiress to a prominent and powerful business corporation - would soon be moving in. Amidst her heartbreak, Jordan had to scramble to find another place to live. To maintain his reputation, Christian fabricated a lie and told everyone they knew that he had broke it off with Jordan long before he got together with Victoria and that Jordan was entirely aware of their relationship. He made himself out to be a martyr and said at first he took pity on her. He said she was still paying off her student loans for medical school, which was true, but he also said she had maxed out her credit cards, was deeply in debt, and had started drinking again which was a complete lie and said to make her look irresponsible and undermine her credibility. He explained that she was struggling to find an affordable apartment, so he offered to let her stay on at the estate with him and Victoria until she could get back on her feet, which Jordan accepted, but that she treated Victoria terribly and threatened to find a way to blackmail them for money to pay off her debt. They put up with her erratic behavior for a while but it was putting too much stress on Victoria and the baby, so they forced her to leave. Although Jordan�s father was a respected archeologist in his field, they lived a rather modest life. Christian was rich; his family was powerful. He traveled in the same circles as did the social elite, politicians, prominent businessmen and just the plain filthy rich. Women wanted him; men wanted to be him. Everyone wanted to be liked by him, so they believed his story.
   �I am so sorry, Jordan. Men can be cruel sometimes�It is no less true here in Middle Earth.�

   �Well, at least now I can look back and know that some good came out of it.�

   �What is that?�

   �It set me on the path that led to Legolas.�

   �What are you going to do with that?� Eowyn asked motioning to the book still in her hand.

   Jordan walked over to the sideboard. �I�m going to put it away until Legolas returns,� she said shoving it in a drawer, �and then together we will burn it.�

   When she turned around, all the color was gone from Eowyn�s face and it appeared she was about to wretch.

   �Are you alright?� Jordan asked, alarmed.

   Eowyn put a hand over her stomach. Beads of sweat broke out on her forehead.

   �I��

   �Oh no!�

   Jordan grabbed her hand and pulled her into the bathing chamber. She wretched in the wash basin what little was in her stomach while Jordan held her long hair back. When she was finished, Jordan wet a square of cloth with some water from a pitcher and gave it Eowyn to cool her face.

   �Are you alright? Here come sit down.� She said, helping her to the chair.

   �I am better now, thank you.� Eowyn said hoarsely.

   �Do you have any chills or feel feverish?�

   �No. I feel fine otherwise.�

   This might seem a little strange but�� Jordan touched her lips lightly to Eowyn�s forehead. It was cool.

   �What was that for?� She asked, somewhat bemused.

   �I can tell if you have a fever by how warm your forehead feels to my lips. You don�t. Have you been coughing?�

   �No, nothing like that. I am sure I just need to eat.� She said evasively.

   �Eowyn, no one throws up because they haven�t eaten. Is this the first time this has happened?�

   �No. I have experienced this a couple times before, mostly in the morning.�

   Jordan paused, thinking. �Could you be with child?�

   Eowyn�s eyes grew wide at the suggestion.

   �You are, aren�t you!�

   �How did you know?�

   �I�m a doctor, remember? You have classic morning sickness symptoms. Do you know how far along you are?�

   �I have missed two moon cycles.�

   Jordan counted on her fingers. �So�that would put you at about twelve weeks give or take a few weeks.� She squealed and hugged Eowyn. �Congratulations.�

   Eowyn smiled. �Thank you.�

   �Come on, we should get you some food. You�ll feel better.�

   �Alright, but Jordan?�

   �Yeah?�

   �Faramir and I are not quite ready to share this news, so please do not tell anyone yet.�

   �No, of course not. It is not my business to tell anyway.�
~~~~~~
   The first leg of the scouting party�s journey was already set: through the northern gate of the Rammas Echor, skirting past the tip of the Grey Wood, and taking the ancient road through the Stonewain Valley that lay between the northern side of the White Mountains and the southern edge of the Druadan Forest to the foot of the third beacon-hill, Nardol; a rocky, barren outcropping of the mountains. Then, just beyond where the men quarried rock long ago, they would climb out of the valley and continue on down the grassy slopes of the mountains that lay between the Druadan Forest and the Firien Wood. In a protective grove of linden and old oak is where the attack occurred. From there, they could only rely on their senses and skill for tracking foul beasts.
   As they entered the narrow mouth of the Stonewain Valley, the scouting party formed a single line, keeping five or six paces between each person. Mordren led while Legolas served as rear guard; his keen eyes and ears put to good use should an attack come from behind, for the valley was like a steep ravine and there were no exits but forward and back. The road through was rough and strewn with rock though fortunately not overgrown with vegetation, for very little sunlight touched its floor; hindered by the towering forested hills with its tangled mass of thickets on one side and the rise of the mountains on the other. It was only at certain times when the sun was right in the sky that it blazed through the hidden gap. The day was exceptionally warm for the season, even in the shade of the valley walls, and despite their grim task, the mood was light. The group talked and joked amongst themselves quietly to pass the time.
   Eomer glanced back and saw that Legolas had fallen back a bit from the rest of the group. He slowed his pace and let the others pass, waiting for Legolas to catch up to him, so they could speak in private.

   �What say you, Eomer? It is a fine day, is it not?� Legolas asked as he approached the man.

   �It is at that. Let�s just hope the weather holds out.�

   They walked side-by-side for a time until Legolas asked, �Something on your mind, Eomer?�

   Eomer leaned in a bit and said quietly, �It would bode ill for the success of our mission if there is discord among its members, so if you take issue with me, let us rectify it now.�

   Legolas furrowed his brows. �I have no quarrel with you. Of what do you speak?�

   �The night of the delegate�s dinner�the Lady Jordan?� He reminded him. �I only wished to get to know her. I did not realize at the time you like fancied her. I hope you hold no ill will against me.�

   �No oath have we pledged to one another. She is free to keep company with whom she pleases.�

   �Yes, well, I understand it caused strife between you and for that I am sorry. I did not mean to interfere.�

   �Eowyn told you.�

   �Told? No. Rebuked would be a better word.�

   �Well, you need not worry. I accept your apology, though none was required; the fault was my own.�

   �You have my thanks.� Eomer said with a nod. He walked ahead a few paces and then stopped and glanced back at Legolas. �If it is any consolation, she spoke about you the entire time.� Eomer grinned and trotted off to resume his place in line.

   �It would have been that, but it does not matter now.� Legolas thought bitterly.
~~~~~~
   The scouting party was making good time and about midday, Mordren decided it would be permissible to take a short rest. They shrugged off their packs and unburdened themselves of their excess weapons, laying them out on the ground and took the opportunity to stretch their muscles and quench their thirst.

   Eomer, noticing the implements tied to Mordren�s pack, quipped, �Come now, what use have we for a spade? Do we plan to tend to the land as well as Orcs?�

   �A crude tool for a cruder purpose, not to bring forth life from the ground but to inter to it - it is our charge to bury the dead. Too good of men they were to be left as carrion.�

   Eomer said no more.
   At last, the old road took a slight northerly turn skirting around a high barren ridge extending out from the White Mountains that made up the third beacon-hill, Nardol. The sun here was more abundant as the edge of the Druadan Forest turned away from the valley and above them now only lay the grassy slopes of the of the mountain.

   �How much farther, Firindor?� Mordren asked.

   He looked up, judging the position of the sun in the sky, squinting his eyes against its brilliance. �We should reach there well before sundown.�
~~~~~~
   After breakfast, Eowyn went to lie down, so Jordan decided she would stop by the Houses of Healing and check on the injured soldiers. As she wandered through the main room, she did not see anyone about at first. As well, she noticed there were fewer soldiers lying in the beds; by about half. She panicked, thinking they had died sometime in the night.

   �Astrid!� She yelled, but there was no answer. �Astrid!� She yelled again, looking around wildly.

   Mariwen came out from behind a curtained-off alcove wiping her hands off on her apron. �Shh! Not only will you disturb the sick, you will wake the dead!� She said in a harsh whisper. �Astrid is not here. What is it? What is wrong?�

   �Oh, Mariwen, thank goodness!� Jordan said rushing over to the young woman. �Where are all the rest of the men?�

   �They have been moved to the recovery rooms upstairs.�

   Jordan breathed a sigh of relief, clutching her heart. �I was afraid they had all passed away!�

   �No, no. Actually, they are all recovering remarkably well. There are only a few left that require constant care.�

   Just then Astrid came walking in with her arms laden with linens. �Good afternoon, Jordan. How are you today?� She asked cheerfully.

   �Fine. I just wanted to check on the men.�

   �They are all well. Wait right there. Let me put these away and then I would like to show you something.�

   �Alright.�

   �I must get back to my duties. Farewell, Jordan. Come back again�just next time, more quietly.� Mariwen quipped.

   �I will. Goodbye Mariwen.� Jordan said with a friendly wave.
   Finally Astrid came back and led her to one of the men. She pulled back the blanket and lifted his tunic to reveal the bandaged wound on his flank. She carefully pushed aside the cloth bandage and asked, �Did you sew this wound?�

   �Yes, why?�

   �I have never seen a stitch like this. It is good and strong. Will you show me how you did this?�

   �Uh, sure, but I have nothing to practice on.�

   Astrid replaced the bandage and covered the man up again.

   �Come with me.�

   Astrid led her to a small room adjacent to the main room; a supply room of sorts with many shelves and cupboards that lined the walls and a large table in the center. Astrid dug through the cupboards finally producing two pieces of thick hide and set them on the table. She left the room momentarily and came back with thread and a needle, setting those on the table as well.

   �There.�

   �Well, it�s called a pulley suture.� Jordan began and did her best to demonstrate the technique on the two pieces of hide, explaining to Astrid when this particular suture technique is more appropriate than others.

   �Thank you, Jordan. I will use this as an example to practice.� Astrid said holding up the sewn hide, then added, �and thank you for all of the work you have done. I want to give you something in payment.�

   �No, really, that�s not necessary.�

   �No, I insist. The healers are compensated by room and board or with household goods in trade for their work. You have no use for either.�

   She reached into her apron and pulled out a little drawstring pouch. She held out Jordan�s hand and shook the pouch, spilling two gold pieces into her palm. Jordan stared wide-eyed at the gold.

   �You really mean to give me these?� She asked in awe.

   �Yes, I know it�s not much but at least you can replace your dress that was ruined.�

   �No, no, it�s more than enough. Thank you!� Jordan said excitedly. It was the first time since her arrival in Middle-earth that she had provided for herself by her own endeavors.

   �Off you go now. Go on to the market and buy yourself a pretty dress to wear for your Elf-friend.�

   �Pardon me?� Jordan said, slightly taken aback.

   �You know, the Elf that was looking for you last night? I saw you two sitting together in the garden. He�s beautiful, that one.�

   Obviously Astrid did not hear the argument that ensued. The smile fell away from Jordan�s face and she looked down at the ground. �Yes, he is.� She said quietly.

   �Oh dear-is-me!� Astrid gasped in embarrassment. Judging by Jordan�s reaction she must have misread the situation. �I am sorry. I thought�Oh,� she said with a flustered sigh, �Sometimes I do not know when to keep my mouth shut.�

   Jordan held up her hand to stop her. �No, it�s okay. Thank you for these.� She said holding out the gold pieces. �I�ll come by again tomorrow.�

   Closing her fist around them, she turned and left.
   Actually, despite the awkwardness of how it was posed, Jordan liked Astrid�s suggestion. All of her clothing so far had been hand-me-downs from Eowyn, which she was grateful for, but it would be nice to have something that she bought with her own money. The evenings were becoming quite cool and she needed a warmer gown and perhaps a shawl or cloak. She had no idea what two gold pieces would buy her, if anything, but she intended to find out.
~~~~~~
   The market was the central hub of activity in the city occupying a large open semi-circular stone courtyard on the third level. Curved rows of tents and carts out of which people peddled their wares lined the courtyard forming narrow walkways in between and in the center, stood a large fountain on a small grassy knoll where children splashed and played. It was a veritable assault on the senses. The walkways were teeming with city folk and the sounds of talking and laughter, children shrieking, and the squawking and bleating of livestock created a dull roar that rose up and echoed off the walls of the surrounding buildings. All manner of goods could be found at the market; from produce and livestock to colorful fabrics, clothing, jewelry, cookware, wooden furniture, even musical instruments. Some merchants had cooking pots over fire pits selling hot meals to hungry passersby and the smells of wood smoke, braised meats, soups, and stews filled the air.
   Jordan weaved leisurely in and out of the crowds browsing the merchant�s goods as she passed by; occasionally stopping to look at a bit of jewelry or some fabric. She finally came to a tent which had a number of gowns in various fabrics, long hooded cloaks, and shawls hanging from a line, a table lined with pairs of leather shoes and boots, and a smaller table still with all kinds of shiny rocks, crystals, and beads. This one wasn�t quite as crowded as the rest. As she thumbed through the gowns, a large, brutish man came out from behind a curtained-off area in the back. He had the look of a man aged beyond his years by a life of hard labor with browned leathery skin, sagging eyes, and thinning hair that hung in greasy clumps. He wore a scowl under his scruffy beard and looked her up and down, all the while drumming his pudgy, dirt-stained fingers on the table. The few city folk browsing through the tent scurried off leaving Jordan alone.

   �See anything ya like?� He asked coolly.

   Jordan picked up a rather elegant burgundy-colored velvet gown and held it up to herself.

   �How much is this one?�

   He took a couple steps closer to her and cocked his head. �How much do ya got?�

   There was something almost menacing about the man and Jordan decided she did not like him at all.

   �Look, I just want to know how much it is.�

   �And I asked how much you got.�

   Not getting the answer she wanted, she sighed in frustration. She folded the dress over her arm and opened her hand revealing the gold she held. �Fine. I have two gold pieces.�

   He took a step closer; close enough she could smell his stale breath.

   �Two gold pieces, eh?� He said, peering into her hand. �You can have the dress for two gold pieces and this amulet of yours.� He said and closed his thick fingers around the pendant she wore around her neck.

   Jordan grasped the chain it hung from and pulled on it but the man did not lessen his grip.

   �This is not for sale. It is sacred to me.�

   �Everything is for sale, missy.�

   Jordan was quickly becoming annoyed at the man�s rude behavior.

   �Never mind. I don�t want the dress. Let go of my necklace.�

   She tugged harder on the chain trying to pull it out of his hand but the chain snapped and the pendant, now detached, remained in the clutches of the shady merchant.

   �Is there a problem here?�

   Jordan heard a deep voice come from behind her. Like a child caught with his hand in the cookie jar, the man quickly hid his hands behind his back and took a step backwards.

   �No, no problem, Gandalf, sir. We was just, ah, negotiating.�

   Jordan turned around and saw an elderly fellow dressed in white robes and flowing long white hair to match, carrying a long, gnarled wooden walking staff. It was his appearance which surprised her because it did not match his authoritative voice at all.

   �No we weren�t! You broke my necklace and you�ve still got it in your hand!� She said pointing her finger at the merchant.

   �Is this true?� Gandalf asked.

   The man laughed nervously. �Well, ah��

   �Brown-Tom, let me see your hands.�

   He reluctantly held out his fists and opened them revealing the pendant. Gandalf took the pendant and held it up close to examine it before handing it back to Jordan.

   �What about my dress?� The merchant named Brown-Tom said indignantly motioning to the article in question still hanging over Jordan�s arm.

   �I must say Brown-Tom; the color would not suit you at all.� Gandalf said, winking at Jordan.

   �Hrmpf! That�s not what I meant and you know it!�

   �How much did you offer Brown-Tom for the dress?� Gandalf asked Jordan.

   �Two gold pieces.� Jordan answered.

   �Done.� Gandalf said.

   �Not done!� Brown-Tom said. �It�s worth at least ten!� He protested.

   �You will give the lady the dress, take the two gold pieces and you will also give her that matching shawl over there as recompense for the necklace you broke. I will buy no crystals from you today and you�ll do well to remember that next time you want to behave like an ill-mannered lout!� Gandalf boomed.

   �Yes sir, Gandalf sir,� Brown-Tom said, falling all over himself. �Here ya go, miss.�

   He shoved the shawl clumsily into Jordan�s arms and took the gold pieces. Jordan gave Brown-Tom a smug smirk and turned to the intervening elderly fellow.

   �Gandalf was it? Thank you Gandalf.�

   Jordan turned and walked off eager to be away from there and Gandalf followed.

   �Ah, thank you for your patronage!� Brown-Tom called out in a shaky falsetto as they disappeared into the crowd.
   �You never told me your name.� Gandalf said, coming up behind Jordan.

   �Oh, sorry. I am Jordan. So what are you, market security or something?� Jordan asked Gandalf as they walked through the market towards the main street. Gandalf laughed loudly.

   �No my dear. I am a wizard. Gandalf the White am I called by most though I am known by a good many of other names for better or worse.�

   �A wizard; a real wizard.� She said skeptically.

   He leaned in and spoke close to her ear. �Is that so hard to believe for someone who has come from another world? Or perhaps you only stole the trinket you wear with the strange writing of the Travelers.�

   Jordan froze, unable to speak either to defend herself or dispel his claims.

   Gandalf cocked an eyebrow. �So, it is true.�

   �How did you know?�

   �I have wandered far and wide and I can say with certainly nowhere does there exist a language like that here in Middle-earth ancient or otherwise, but more so, I have seen it before. I met and spoke with the Travelers when they came.�

   �But that was hundreds of years ago! That would make you��

   Gandalf chuckled. �My child, I am ageless; as timeless as the sea.�

   �Are you an Elf?�

   �No. I am one of the Maiar; a servant of the Valar.�

   �Pardon me for asking, but if you are a servant of the Valar, what are you doing browsing a market for common city-folk?�

   �Why does one do anything? Because I rather enjoy it. I always stop to look over Brown-Tom�s crystals when I come. He is a rather strange fellow; a bit cracked if you know what I mean, but he has a quite a knack for acquiring unusual goods and rare crystals. That dress you are holding? It is from a region known as Rh�n, whose inhabitants up until a few years ago were enemies of Gondor. Now, if you are quite done changing the subject, I would like to get back to the matter at hand. Are there others like you?�

   �No. I am the only one.�

   �Will more be coming?�

   �I would suspect not. The link in my world was destroyed. Look, you�ve been great, Gandalf. I appreciate your help with the dress, but I don�t know you from Adam. I don�t think I should say anything more about this.�

   �I do not know who this Adam is, but I assure you there are more dangerous folk to tell than I.�

Just then, there was a woman�s voice calling out from behind them as they walked up the street.

   Gandalf stopped and turned around.

   �Eowyn! So good to see you. What brings you to the city?�

   �I accompanied Faramir whom Aragorn summoned to a council meeting but now�well, it is a long story. Hello, Jordan. I see you have met Gandalf. Were you going to tea at Arwen�s just now?�

   �I was heading that way, yes.�

   �I will join you. I think some tea and conversation will fair well with me.� Eowyn said, giving Jordan a knowing look.

   �Now then, it seems we are all going in the same direction as I have business with Aragorn.� Gandalf said.

   Jordan studied the white-haired wizard as they made their way to the Citadel.

   �If Eowyn and Faramir know him and he knows Aragorn, he must be alright, I guess.� She thought.
~~~~~~
   Descending from the base of the White Mountains, the high plains of Anorien stretched north for many leagues and were covered in knee-high bunchgrass and dotted with groves of old oak, beech, and linden trees. Small, unnamed streams wandered down from the mountains, trickling across the plains; whereby some took a more easterly course to the Anduin and some to the lowlands, or Wetwang, flowing through green channels under reeds and rushes to the Entwash. As they crested the ridge of the Stonewain Valley and on to the open plains, they no longer benefited from the protection of the valley�s high walls and they set themselves on edge, keeping their weapons close at hand.
   It was nearly sundown when Mordren spotted the first carcass of an Orc just outside of a large grove of tall trees.

   Rolling the body over with his boot, he said with distaste, �This is no Orc, this is an Uruk.�

   Further on, in the seclusion of the grove, they encountered the main encampment. Some of the Gondorian soldiers had not even made it out of their bedrolls; slaughtered whilst they slept. Elsewhere, the twisted bodies of soldiers, Orcs, and Uruks intermingled; hated enemies that now lay as close as lovers. The ground, darkened by spilled blood, was now tainted and stench of death was outright oppressive.

   Mordren addressed the group: �The situation is perhaps more dire than we thought. Up until now, we have only seen isolated skirmishes between the sparse factions of Orcs that remain and those who were unfortunate enough to cross paths with them in the wilds. It is widely known the Orcs and Uruk-hai share no great love for each other, but yet they have aligned themselves freely as a unified force, increasing their strength in numbers. This resurgence, I can only believe, signifies an organized effort to strike back at those who have oppressed them. This,� he swept his arm out motioning to the bodies, �is only the beginning.�

   All nodded in agreement.

   �Faramir, find a suitable spot to dig a wide grave. Legolas, gather any weapons left about. Set aside anything of use; the remainder will have to be hidden. The rest of us will gather the bodies. We need to work quickly. Night will be upon us and we cannot risk the use of torches to light our way.�

   �What about a fire for warmth?� Asked Firindor.

   �If it is comfort you seek, Firindor, perhaps you should have stayed home with the women and children.� Mordren replied smugly.
   When their unpleasant task was complete, they stood in a solemn line beside the common grave for the fallen soldiers. Legolas turned his face to the sky which was now bathed in darkened shades of pink and gold, and sung a dirge in his native tongue committing their spirits to the hall of their fathers.
   Mordren chose a spot for them to bed down for the night away from the main encampment, on the northern edge of the grove.

   �We will have three shifts of watch, so that no one person goes without too much rest. Who will volunteer?� Asked Mordren.

   �I will take the first shift.� Legolas said.

   �And I, second.� Faramir offered.

   �And I will take the last.� Mordren said.

   Because they had to forego carrying a bedroll in favor of weapons, the men used leaves and other soft debris as a pallet and slept on the open ground, clutching their cloaks tightly about them. Legolas sat down at the base of a tree near the perimeter of the camp and began his watch. He felt not the bodily discomfort of cold or hunger or fatigue, just a heaviness in his heart. His journey thus far had been a welcome distraction but now, in the quiet darkness, sorrow found him once again. He silently cursed himself for not waking Jordan to tell her of his love for her. He stood there right at her feet but could not will himself to act. He, who was a mighty warrior, who had stared into the face of death, had found his one fear; his one weakness: the pain that comes from a love unrequited. He knew not why she stayed. Had she had a change of heart or did she simple want to take some rest before she departed? It was this uncertainty that held him back. He could not bear to be refused again. More than likely she had left sometime during that very day but then why did he still feel that she was near when he turned his thoughts to her?
   Legolas woke Faramir to take over the watch and then lay down on the rough ground using his pack to rest his head on. His eyes were closed but he did not sleep. He sought out the White City in his thoughts but found only a sense of worry and disquiet there.
~~~~~~
   Daybreak was nearly upon them and the land was shrouded in the gray muted light that comes before the sun has yet to rise above the edge of the world. Beyond the grove of trees, a low mist hung over the plains. The ground was damp with dew and the earthy smell was pungent in the cold, crisp air. After a small and decidedly unpalatable meal of dried meat and flat bread, they gathered their packs, eager to resume their mission. From the main camp, it was not hard to follow their path as the Orcs and Uruks tread carelessly on the ground bending and bruising the grass with their iron-shod feet cutting a wide swath across the plains.
   The scouting party did not follow the Orc-path directly but kept it in sight, sticking closer to greener channels where water was accessible and ducking into groves of trees for cover providing it did not stray them too far off course. Their pace was neither frantic nor leisurely but as the day wore on, no closer did they seem to be to the Orcs. The sun rose to noon and then sank into the west. Shadow covered the land and the sky deepened into darkness and still they pressed on through the night and into the next day, stopping only for short reprieves. For two days hence the scouting party tracked the enemy in to the heart of Anorien but never could they close the distance.
   On the afternoon of the fifth day, the scouting party came to a bend in the small stream that had been their only water source on this journey. They stood and stared in dismay at the lifeline of rushing water as it flowed now easterly towards the Anduin and away from their course.

   �Now what?� Faramir asked.

   �Fill up your water skins. Ahead, there is a village that lies along the Great West Road, only a day or so away. If our luck holds, there will be an inn where we can find food, water, and shelter for the night.� Mordren said.

   �Do these cursed Orcs ever sleep?� Eomer yelled. He picked up a small stone and hurled it towards the horizon in frustration. �This is fruitless. Five days and the only sign of our quarry are some broken stalks of field grass. Our food supply is nearly spent. We were not prepared for this. I say we turn back.�

   �No. We will continue on to the village.�

   �Mordren, this is folly! Our mission was only to track them and we have; halfway across Anorien! They could be well within the bounds of Mordor by now.�

   �I agree with Eomer. I think we should turn back.� Firindor said.

   �Look, I understand you are all exhausted,� Mordren addressed the group, �but we will finish what we set out to do. Let us continue on until dusk at which time we will make camp and a good night�s rest will see our strength renewed.�
~~~~~~
   The days stretched on and still there was no sign of the scouting party. Jordan forced herself to get out and be amongst people. She had to keep herself busy and be productive. If she didn�t, she knew she would take to moping around in her room dwelling on the situation and that would only make the time seem to pass slower. Every morning, Jordan would share breakfast with Eowyn in her quarters; then they would go for a walk around the city and Jordan would practice walking without her cane. When Legolas returned, she wanted to be able to walk to him unaided. Every afternoon, the women would gather at Arwen�s house for lunch and tea and she would tell them tales of her childhood and the early days of Rivendell. Occasionally, she still visited the Houses of Healing. Though most of the soldier had recovered and had been sent home, she enjoyed conversing with the two healers in residence, Astrid and Mariwen; discussing their trade and sharing healing practices. Each day that passed, Jordan grew ever more fearful that something had happened to the entire scouting party and that no one was left to send back word. She wanted to go to Aragorn and beg him to send out a search party but feared she would be overstepping her bounds. She knew nothing of the ways of battle and warfare. No one else seemed quite as worried. They were used to this sort of thing, she supposed. Or maybe they just hid it better.
   Night time was the most difficult for Jordan when all was quiet and there was nothing to distract her thoughts. It became ritual to go out to the balcony and think of Legolas before retiring to her bed. One such evening, Jordan stood on her balcony and peered out into the blackness beyond the city. Legolas was somewhere out there. Was he in danger? Was he hurt? Was he saddened to think she had left Middle-earth?

   �I am still here. I haven�t left.� She whispered to the darkness.

   There was a chill in the air and she pulled her shawl tightly around her shoulders. She hated to think of him out there in the dark, sleeping on the cold, hard ground. Jordan blocked out everything else and focused her thoughts on Legolas. It was strange. It was almost as if she could feel his presence. She felt, with a fair amount of certainty, that he was alive and well although passed it off as merely her imagination. She wished she could comfort him somehow, but of course she knew it was impossible. So instead, she sang him to sleep from across the miles.
   (Nocturne - Visit this section of Chapter 18 at elvenladyofithilien dot com to listen)
~~~~~~
   Fall was fast approaching and although the days were still rather warm, the nights were getting colder. Legolas felt fortunate he did not have to fend off its chill as did his companions. He rested comfortably against the trunk of the tree with his legs stretched out before him; fingers interlaced behind his head. He listened to the faint murmurings of the trees as they spoke to one another and took comfort in them. Gazing at the moon that hung like a sliver of gold against the black tapestry of night, his thoughts turned to Jordan as they often did. Had she chosen to remain in Middle-earth? Was she at this very moment gazing up at the same moon? His heart told him yes. It was almost like he could feel her reaching out to him; waiting and worrying. If only he could let her know somehow he was alright.
   A scene unfolded in Legolas� mind: hovering high above the city, looking onto the balcony of Jordan�s quarters. She leaned on its railing with folded arms, looking up into the night sky. She wore a gown of the deepest claret that he had never seen before. Tendrils of her hair caught the breeze and gently danced around her head. She was achingly beautiful, yet sad, with worried brows that shadowed her face. Then she began to sing. Her voice floated on the breeze like cottonwood on a summer�s day and caressed his ears with its gentle tones. It seemed so real, he spied around quickly at his companions to see if they too heard it. Not one of them stirred. He closed his eyes and listened closer, straining to hear the lyrics. He thought it only the rumination of a restless mind, a fragment of a memory perhaps, but it was a song she had never sung to him.
~~~~~~
   At first light, the scouting party set out for the village. They had rested a full night but it had little effect on morale. The food rations they had started the journey with were now gone and it seemed there was little hope of providing any for themselves out in the wilds. Berries in this region could only be found sporadically in wooded areas and were of the poisonous variety. Game seemed oddly scarce for this time of year. They had seen neither live beast or tracks of such for days. Even birds seemed infrequent in their flight overhead.
   The mood was somber and no one spoke much as they trudged on mile after mile. By the afternoon, they were just rounding the base of a small hill. On the other side, the plains stretched on endless to either side of them but up ahead, the plains were broken up by a large grove of trees.

   �Look! There is smoke in the distance beyond the trees!� Firindor exclaimed.

   �It probably rises from the village. We are close now. Soon, men, we will be enjoying a hot meal and ale to wash it down.� Mordren replied cheerfully.

   �I, for one, will be glad to have a soft bed to rest my weary bones!� Firindor said.

   Legolas shook his head �No. It is too large a column to be from the cook fires of a village. If, in fact, the village lies in that direction, perhaps they are burning something.�

   �Or the village itself is burning.� Eomer added ominously.

   �If the course of the Orc-path holds true, surely this is their handiwork and I do not think we will like the end result.� Said Faramir.
   Realizing the village may be under attack, the scouting party quickened their pace. Just on the other side of a large grove of trees, they came to a rocky ridge where the land abruptly fell away. Some distance to their right, the ridge took a gentler slope providing a path to make their descent. Below them lay the village and just beyond, the Great West Road stretched out like a thin black serpent across the land. Wispy gray and black plumes of smoke billowed up lazily and hung in gloomy layers over the village, darkening the air around it.
   The village, which was no more than a small, idyllic community of farmers and merchants, could afford no outer defenses. Its little stone homes and shops were wide open to attack and its residents ill-equipped for battle. As they got closer, they could see everything that could burn had been consumed by flames. Only the blackened shells of stone buildings still stood, but their thatched roofs were reduced to smoldering piles of ash. A few of the larger building were charred but managed to escape complete destruction. Some of the walls of smaller, more poorly built structures had been toppled over and were now nothing more than piles of rubble. Many of the villagers lay dead in the streets; many more were probable dead in what was left of their homes.

   �We are too late.� Legolas lamented.

   Faramir walked over to one of the bodies and plucked an arrow from his side. Holding it up to inspect, its crude design confirmed what they all suspected.

   �Orcs!� He said with disgust and tossed the arrow on to the ground.

   �Split up.� Mordren said. �Search the buildings but be on your guard. It could be a trap. Refrain from yelling out unless absolutely necessary. We do not want to call attention to ourselves until we know the threat has passed�and keep your eye out for a well or any source of water. We will meet up at the far end of the village, near the entrance from the Great West Road.�

   They set off in all directions with their weapons drawn.
   Down each alley and street, house by house, they picked their way through the village to the opposite end. It did not take long to discover that none of the villagers had survived the attack and the Orcs had moved on. As they finished their search, one by one, the members of the scouting party arrived at the far end of the village; all except Firindor.

   �I found the well.� Faramir said as he walked up.

   �And?� Asked Mordren.

   �Poisoned. Tainted by debris and ash.� He replied.

   �Where is Firindor?� Asked Eomer.

   They looked at each other, shrugging their shoulders. They peered down the alleyways from where they stood, searching for any movement, but saw no sign of him.

   �We had better go back and find him. He may have ran into some trouble.� Mordren said.
~~~~~~
   Firindor came to one of the larger buildings that had been spared from the fire. The double wooden doors were hacked and splintered and hanging askew from bent hinges. He sheathed his sword, having to use both hands to force one of the doors open further so he could get through. Inside, the entire space was a single large, open room. The only light came from a few small casements set high in the wall and through the cracks in the main doors. Shadows loomed in every corner. He took a few steps further in and scanned the room, letting his eyes adjust to the dim light. To his left, were several rows of tall racks spanning the length of the room, some of which had been overturned. To his right, large crates and wooden barrels lined the wall. It appeared to be the village�s food stores but it had been ransacked; raided by the Orcs. The shelves were bare save for a few sacks of flour but they had been ripped open and the powdery substance spilt onto the shelves and floor. Most of the crates had been smashed and their contents removed. He walked a few steps further and heard a tiny splash. He cringed, afraid to look down. Slowly, he lowered his gaze to the ground and saw that he had stepped in a puddle of dark liquid. He saw no body, so it was safe to say it was not blood. Looking around, he was relived to see it had come from a broken barrel of wine - apparently split with an axe and the wine had poured out onto the floor.
   Suddenly a crouching figure behind the crates sprang forth from the shadows. With a wild shriek, they stumbled forward lunging at Firindor, a sword outstretched, and ran it clean through his middle. Feeling the sword sink into flesh, the figure dropped the hilt and fell backwards into the shaft of light coming through the casement revealing their face. It was only a thin wisp of a boy who looked to be no more than sixteen or seventeen years of age; his clothes torn and ragged and covered with smudges of ash.
~~~~~~
   The others were just skirting the side of a large building when they heard an awful shriek come from inside. They sprinted around the corner and charged through the doors, weapons drawn. They expected to find a host of the enemy but what they saw shocked them more than would Orcs and it stopped them in their tracks. They looked at Firindor and then to the boy laying on the ground. Legolas already had an arrow nocked when he entered and now took deadly aim at the boy�s heart. He disengaged, quickly shoving the arrow back in his quiver, when he saw that the boy was no longer a threat and his weapon no longer lay in his hand.
   (I Asked For Love - Visit this section of Chapter 18 at elvenladyofithilien dot com to listen)
   �Firindor!� Mordren screamed.

   A gurgling sound escaped Firindor�s lips as he looked down at the sword protruding from his stomach. He wrapped his hands around it and staggered a few steps back. Mordren caught him and slowly lowered his body to the floor.

   �Stay with me, Firindor!�

   Faramir fell to his knees next to Firindor to assist Mordren. Eomer rushed forward and yanked the boy up by the collar of his tunic and shook him violently.

   �What have you done?� He screamed.

   �Eomer stop!� Legolas grasped his shoulder. �Look at him!�

   Eomer�s face froze in shock as he looked into the boy�s lifeless, cloudy eyes - he was blind. Eomer let go and the boy stumbled backwards and fell to the ground. He scrambled to his knees and pleaded with them.

   �I am sorry my lords.� The boy sobbed. �I could not see you! I though the Orcs had come back. I thought you were Orcs!� He wailed over and over.

   �Get him out of here!� Faramir yelled.

   Legolas slung his bow over his shoulder and dragged the boy, still sobbing and shaking, outside.

   �Please, just kill me; just kill me!� He shrieked.

   �I am not going to kill you.� Legolas said sternly.

   Legolas could not make him stand, so he hoisted him over his shoulder and carried him over to a length of fence that still stood near the remains of the stables. A severed lead rope that had once held a horse was still tied to the fence and Legolas used this to bind the boy�s hands in front of him and secure him to the railing.

   �Stay quiet. We will come back for you.�

   The boy had calmed down somewhat though he still gasped in heaving breaths from crying. Tears streamed down his face, washing clean the dirt and ash away in streaks.

   �The man I wounded�is he going to die?�

   �Yes.� Legolas said solemnly and rushed back to the group leaving the boy to anguish in solitude.
   Mordren ripped off his cloak and wrapped it around the sword trying to staunch the flow of blood that seeped from the wound. Firindor gasped in short, ragged breaths and coughed weakly, trying to clear the blood that pooled in his throat. A thin line of red trickled from the corner of his mouth. Legolas came back in and rejoined the men crouched around Firindor.

   �I had my sword sheathed�I�� Firindor choked out.

   �Do not try to speak. You are going to be alright. You are go�� Mordren�s voice cracked. He looked away and covered his mouth with the crook of his arm to hide his quivering jaw and eyes that shined with unshed tears. Growling in anger, he composed himself and turned back towards Firindor.

   �You are doing well; just hold on.� Mordren said, trying to project confidence in his voice.

   Firindor clawed at Mordren� tunic, grasping a handful of the fabric, and pulled his face close to his.

   �Please�� He whispered hoarsely. �Please tell�my wife�� He started to cough causing more blood to spill from the corners of his mouth and his eyes glazed over. �Tell Mariwen�I love her.�

   He released his grip on Mordren�s tunic and went limp.

   �Firindor!� Faramir yelled.

   �He�s gone.� Legolas said softly and brushed his hand over Firindor�s eyes, closing them forever.

   Eomer slammed his fist into the floor. �Curse it all!� He stood up and ran his hand through his hair, pacing back and forth. �Foolish! A foolish waste!� He said angrily. �Where is that boy? So help me, I will kill him!�

   �Eomer, calm yourself. There is no use in rash judgment in the face of mourning. The boy is not the enemy you seek.� Legolas said.

   Mordren hung his head. �So young�He�he was like a son to me.�

   Faramir put his hand on Mordren�s shoulder. �There was nothing any of us could do. The wound was just too grave.�
~~~~~~
   Faramir and Legolas carried Firindor�s body outside and laid him on the ground. Mordren and Eomer followed after.

   �What will we do?� Faramir asked. �We cannot carry his body all the way Minas Tirith on foot.�

   Mordren shook his head and kicked at the ground. �No. These accursed remains will have to serve as his final resting place.�
   The company chose a soft, grassy spot a ways from the village to lay to rest their companion and placed a grouping of stones on top of the mound to serve as a nameless marker. Dark clouds rolled in over the plain covering the waning sun and ushered in the threat of rain. A gusty wind picked up and swirled about them blowing their hair in their eyes as they stood silently beside the fresh grave. This time, Legolas had not the heart to sing any words of comfort.
   Mordren took a step back ending their solemn reverie. �Let us make camp. We will decide our course of action in the morning.� He said resignedly.

   �What of the boy? Shall I fetch him?� Legolas asked.

   Mordren sighed heavily. �No.�

   �I don�t understand. Is it your plan to leave him behind? He will starve to death.�

   �What would you have me do?� Mordren asked.

   �We cannot take him with us, you know that.� Faramir cut in.

   �You should have just let me kill him.� Eomer spat.

   �No! Enough blood has been spilt this day. He was frightened. He did not mean to kill Firindor.� Legolas said angrily.

   �Legolas, you are right in saying he will starve. He cannot fend for himself. Which death would be more appealing to you?� Eomer snapped.

   �We have no food, water is scarce, and we are weary to the bone. We cannot take him with us. He will be a burden on us; one that we cannot bear. As much as it pains me to say so, I agree with Eomer. There is no one left to care for him. The village�s food stores have been ransacked. To let him wander around in the wilderness, blind and lame, would be cruel.� Mordren said. �A quick death would be merciful.�

   Legolas stopped and looked him straight in the eye. �Killing him is not going to bring back Firindor.�

   Mordren let out a strangled growl and charged him; hitting him square in the chest and shoving him backwards.

   �What would you know about death, Elf?� He screamed.

   Legolas clenched his fists and stood his ground but did not retaliate. Faramir rushed over and restrained Mordren.

   �Enough! Both of you!� Faramir commanded. �Now is not the time to turn upon each other.�

   �Mordren, this is wrong.� Legolas implored him. �He is a living being, not a beast that needs to be put down. Release him. Perhaps there is a chance he would survive.�

   Mordren wrestled out of Faramir�s grip, holding his hands up in surrender and Faramir backed off.

   �Fine! I will release the boy; and he will be left to whatever grim fate awaits him.� Mordren growled. �Double back and make camp in the grove of trees up on the ridge. I will catch up.�

   Faramir put his arm around Legolas� shoulder and pulled him away. �Come my friend. You need rest. We all do.�
~~~~~~
   Mordren quickly made his way back through the village, looking back periodically to make sure he was not being followed. He found the boy sitting on the ground still bound to the fence. As he approached, his footsteps alerted the boy to his presence.

   �Who�s there?� He called out.

   �Do not fear boy. It is I, Mordren.�

   �I am sorry I killed your man. I didn�t mean to. Please forgive me.� He whimpered.

   Mordren knelt beside the boy. �What is your name?� He asked gently.

   �Rorindil, my lord, but people call me Rory. It is so quiet now. Where is everyone? I do not hear any voices.�

   Mordren untied the rope around his wrists and tossed it aside.

   �Rory, listen to me carefully. Do you know why the Orcs attacked your village?�

   �They had come several times demanding food and supplies in return for sparing our village. The elders were frightened of them and gave them what they asked but this time they refused. Winter will be coming on and we need all that we have; the crops were short this year. My family runs the inn. If you would be so kind as to lead me there, I am certain they can put you and your men up free of charge, as long as you want.� Rory offered.
   (Rory's Lament - Visit this section of Chapter 18 at elvenladyofithilien dot com to listen)
   �I am sorry to say but the inn has been destroyed.�

   �My parents? My brothers?� He choked.

   �We searched the entire village. There were none who survived the attack. I am sorry.�

   Rory slumped forward, hanging his head, and covered his face with his hands.

   �No, oh no.� He sobbed.

   �Rory, listen to me.� Mordren said grabbing him by the shoulders. �Do you think you can make your way to the next village?�

   �No, my lord. I am blind as you know and my foot is withered. I was born this way you see and I have never once left this village. I do not know the way.�

   Mordren felt a sickening feeling in the pit of his stomach and words failed him. It was not the answer he was hoping for. When Mordren didn�t respond, Rory continued.

   �Please, what am I to do? Will you not help me?� He cried.

   Mordren pulled Rory into his chest and held him for a while, rocking him like a child. �Shh. It is alright now. All is well, do not fear.� Mordren murmured.

   In one quick motion, he reached up and snapped the boy�s neck and he slackened in Mordren�s arms. He held the boy�s lifeless body and wept bitterly.

   �I am sorry, Rory�I am so sorry.� He said over and over, rocking back and forth.

   A streak of lightning lit up the darkened sky and thunder rumbled overhead. Suddenly the sky opened up and let loose a deluge of heavy rain. In mere minutes, the ground turned to mud around him. He turned his face to the sky; droplets splashing on his skin and dripping off his eyelashes mixing with the tears that streamed down his cheeks.

   �The life of a friend has been taken tonight and now I, too, have taken a life.� He said bitterly. Then he raised his voice and cried out to the empty sky. �Eru forgive me for what I have done!�
   Mordren knew he could not linger much longer. He laid Rory�s body gently on the ground and stood up.

   �Be at peace, child.� He whispered.

   He sniffed and wiped the rain and tears from his face in vain. Though defeated in spirit, he composed himself outwardly as best as he could and hurried off to join the rest of the scouting party.
   A.N.: I know you guys are about ready to kill me drawing this out for so long, so I�ll give you a little spoiler: Legolas and Jordan will see each other again�someday.
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Love's Redemption