OOOF

^^^
         

The first one appeared.

Gray wafts of smoke billowed towards the awaiting sky and silence rode the winds. It filled our noses with its acidic essence. I'm sure we'll be smelling it awake and in our dreams for days.

Fire stretched its arms towards the clouds, each tendril of orange and red licking the heavens. Immense heat emanated out like a hug, the air around it warped and danced.

The wooden and straw-thatched homes didn't stand a chance.

My hand came up and covered my gasp.

It looked as if a whirlwind of destruction had passed through this small town of Rohan.

Objects littered the streets, houses and stables burned. The horses' cries had stopped a long while ago.

A little girl's cloth doll lay half in a mud puddle, its right arm drenched in blood.

But that wasn't the worst of it.

The girl herself lay beside the doll, her arm outstretched for her toy. Blood bloomed from her chest while her leg lay three feet away.

An old woman lay in a puddle of her own blood, a couple lay motionless in each other's arms, and a spotted dog lay whining next his owner.

Many lay dead with swords in their hands. Or any other weapon they could find—a knife, a bat, a fire poker. Others had a black-feathered arrow in their throat.

How many were charred in their houses, burnt black to the core?

Orcs had left their mark everywhere in the form of blood, arrows, and death. What would it take to stop the madness?

My teeth ached from clenching and I couldn't stop the shaking.

How could anybody do such a thing?!

I jumped down from the horse and strode to the little girl. I brushed aside her brown hair. She was probably only seven.

Angry tears dripped onto her cheek.

"How could such evil reside in this world?" The words were barely a whisper.

I set the soggy doll in the girl's hands. She was too young, too precious.

My heart wept for Arda.

My soul cried out.

The body Eru made for me yearned to do some good.

To right all the wrongs of evil and to bring peace to the people.

Is that too much to ask?! I cried. Is it too much for the good people in Arda to have their rightfully deserved peace?

"The Creator will right the wrongs, when it is time."

I looked up at the white Mithrandir who sat high up on his horse. The sun crowned his head, making him seem like a holy messenger come down from the heavens.

"Why can't the time be now?" How many other children had died in the massacre?

"Only He knows the time. His will will be done when the time is right."

I saw Mithrandir in a new light now. If he was evil and a friend of Saruman, then how could he spew words like those? Evil does not hand out lasting hope to the good.

I stood, dried the tears that always seemed to fall, and gathered the small child in my arms.

"I'm giving them a proper send-off. I will not let the dead be crow-food."

My companions watched from their horses as I gathered wood that had not been burnt. But before long Aragorn slid down from his horse, and after him came the hobbits and Gimli, then Mithrandir, and finally Melnare. Legolas stayed behind, watching with a brooding glare.

The pyre we built was large, the bodies far too numerable. But we worked into the night, determined to give these Rohirric people the peace after death they deserve.

We did not leave our vigil until their bodies turned to ash and the fire winked out.

Their Rohirric winds carried them far away.

*********

Many more villages and small towns came and went. Each one held evidence of a bloodbath.

But we could not build a pyre for the dead. No matter how much I wanted to honor the elderly, the warriors, and children, there were just simply too many. If we wanted to reach Edoras before we ourselves turned elderly, then we had to pass by.

It only deepened my sorrow to do so.

The people of Rohan do not deserve this.

I feared that we may have arrived too late. The orcs could've skirted around Rohan's capital, but it was unlikely. Still, I could only hope.

And a terrible thought occurred to me. This chaos may be all my fault. If only I hadn't got myself caught on Amon Hen, if only I had kept the halflings safe, then the others would not have wasted time in Isengard.

All my fault.

I bit my lip and rolled over. The stars overhead shone down on my company, casting us in an ethereal glow.

'Do not cast all hope away, if everything changes, we will always have a constant, a hope.'

I squeezed my eyes shut, trying to will the words away.

'And that is the stars, up in the sky above us, nothing can change them.'

I shifted again and pounded my makeshift pillow into shape.

'Their eternal beauty and knowledge will always shine down on us, making a path.'

I threw off my blanket.

That path may not always be clear, but it is enough to lead us on.

My eyes found Legolas.

I see the stars in you, Lumornel.

*********

We rose over the crest of the knoll and there—off in the distance rose a great hill, a sea of grass surrounding it. The hill was home to Rohan's capital.

Edoras.

From here the Golden Hall stood proud at the top of the mound. It seemed as if its roof was made from gold. Wooden houses rose from the ground, along with barns and stables. A wall segregated the city from the world. No sign of black smoke. No evidence of black charred homes.

Hope jumped dangerously in my throat.

I whipped my head to Mithrandir. "Do you think—"

He shook his head, "I do not know. We can only hope."

I turned to the three hobbits. "With any luck, you can be back to eating all the food you'd like." I smiled widely at them.

"It's about time," Merry said, in all seriousness. I snorted.

Shifting on the horse behind Melnare, I thought, not for the first time, that I really wanted my own horse to ride. "You'd think they'd have a garden for you, Sam?"

Sam's eyes lit up. "The earth is its own garden, Ms."

"I hope they have pipe-weed from South Farthing," Pippin pondered.

Merry quipped up from where he sat with Aragorn. "You might need to find a pipe first, Pip. You lost yours somewhere in Fangorn, remember?"

Aragorn rolled his eyes.

Gimli, trying to gather as much dignity as a dwarf failing to ride a horse can, said, "I, on the other hand, am hoping for smoked meat right off the bone. Lembas bread and dried meat does not do a dwarf good."

I jostled Melnare, "your turn."

She glared ahead and didn't say anything. Okay, then.

When it became clear she wasn't going to answer anytime soon, Sam twisted around and faced the ranger. "What about you, Strider? What do you hope to find in Edoras?"

"A warm bed, food, and a nice welcome."

"Have you been to Edoras before?" I asked. There was something in his expression that hinted at it.

He nodded, a small smile on his face as if he was remembering fond memories. "Once, long ago."

"Gandalf?" Pippin inquired.

"Answers."

Hm... okay? I guess that's a good answer.

"What about you, lass?" The dwarf blushed as he caught himself from falling from his horse.

"Ummm... I'd say the same as Aragorn. And to find the people happy." That was an alright answer, right?

We all simultaneously looked to Legolas. And then simultaneously looked away.

We all knew what one of us was going to ask him. And we knew what type of answer we would likely get.

And so, the awkward silence begins.

We descended the mound with the only sound being the vicious winds. The invisible force made our own hair blind us and made the grasses sing. It gave us all similar degrees of wind-rash.

The chance that the people of Edoras could be safe made me giddy. I wanted to burst in song—although that might hurt my fellow companions' ears.

"Stop twitching and sit still. Put the poor horse at ease," Melnare berated.

Had I been twitching? "Sorry," I mumbled.

The birds overhead soared through the air, drafts of wind under their wings keeping them up. Could that be a good sign? If the birds weren't afraid to soar over Edoras, could that mean something good?

For possibly the hundredth time I wished I had my own horse. If only so I could race ahead.

It felt as if this was a milestone... and a changing point. We had Rohan on our minds since my freedom from Isengard. Every move since then has been leading up to this moment, every plan spoke, every step, every action made. And now we're almost to our destination.

The air had that texture to it that meant change. A new leaf was about to turn over. But what would that change be? Would it be good or bad? With my luck, it'd probably be bad.

But oh well. We can't all have what we want.

But what I want I must have. It's essential for Middle-earth.

Looking to Legolas I thought, well, not all of it.

Nerves filled my stomach as I thought of the task that I had put on my shoulders. Not the middle-earth-saving thing (although that did make me anxious and stress-riddled), but the getting-the-ring-away-from-Legolas-thing-since-Sauron-hasn't-done-it-yet thing. I refuse to get him the satisfaction of fulfilling my side first.

Although, I'd rather not do my side of the bargain. I hated the thought of becoming Sauron's disposable puppet.

Or the other thing.

I shuddered at the thought of it.

"Why is it so quiet?"

Pippin's voice knocked me out of my trance. Looking up I saw that we now had come closer to Edoras. Upon closer inspection, it seemed that the Meduseld was not roofed with gold, but straw.

And Pippin's right, it's eerily quiet. As if death rode on the winds.

My heart plummeted in my chest.

I saw no soldier standing guard at the gate to the city. I heard no children laughing, no horses nickering in stables, no dogs barking in streets.

Maybe they're all safely hiding in their homes?

Stop being so naïve, Lumornel.

We rode in solemn silence until we reached the gate. I held my breath and waited for guards to step out and detain us.

But that didn't happen.

We passed through the gate with ease and into a ghost town.

The gravel crunched under the horses' hooves and the wind howled between the houses.

No soul welcomed us. Instead, the acidic scent of death made us gag.

We passed through with grim faces, navigating our horses through the maze of dead bodies. Dark crimson stained the rocks and soil. Some even splashed on the side of houses.

The dead didn't seem to end. They all lay motionless in their lifeless peace. They could've been sleeping, except the blood and the occasional weapon protruding out of flesh said otherwise.

One thing stood out though—all the dead were male. Even with the blood clotted in their golden hair and the grime smeared on their faces, it was still evident that they were all men. They all ranged from ten to seventy.

"The men most likely sent the women and children to a safe-haven," Melnare explained.

Mithrandir nodded, "yes. Without a doubt, they are gathered at Helm's Deep."

"Then we travel there." Gandalf opened his mouth to protest (or was he going to agree?) Aragorn's proposition but I stopped him.

"I agree with Aragorn. We should offer our help to the people." It's the right thing to do.

From the corner of my eye, I saw Legolas whip his head to me, his eyes alight with disbelief and anger.

It's not Legolas, I had to remind myself. Not anymore.

"No! We must head straight for Mordor!" The not-Legolas answered.

Mithrandir suddenly seemed inclined to agree with Aragorn's proposition. "I'm afraid, Legolas, we must abandon our mission for a short while."

"NO!"

We said nothing.

Legolas jumped in front of our horses, making them rear. Gimli and Sam fell to the bloodied earth.

"I've had enough of waiting on you sluggish orcs! WE ARE GOING TO MORDOR!"

Mithrandir shook his head, "Legolas, you must see reason—"

"NO! IT IS YOU WHO MUST SEE REASON!"

Not-Legolas pointed his finger at me. For a moment I thought he meant to strike me dead.

"You! You're coming with me!!"

He stalked forward and for the first time, I noticed he held a crude blade in hand. The end was coated red. He must've picked it up from a dead body when we had looked the other way. How many times had he contemplated killing us in our sleep? He had plenty of chances. Eru! We all know he could easily take on anyone of us when we were on watch.

Melnare extended her arm towards him before he could get any closer to me. "That's far enough," she snarled.

But with unearthly speed, I was taken from my horse. Legolas had me in a death-hold, the sticky blade pressed to my neck.

I tried to ignore his rigid body pressed against my back.

And his very Legolas-y scent.

And the golden hair that tickled my neck—

"We will go our separate ways. If any of you fools follow us, I'll cut her throat!" The words rumbled through his chest to my back. I cringed at the volume and viciously violent voice.

"Unhand her!"

Melnare stood in front of us, her feet spread apart, ready to strike. Her elven skin shone with her brilliant aura, despite the dirt smeared on it. Her river brown hair cascaded down her shoulders in great waves and—

And she held her palms out.

I knew that stance—

—Her palms glowed vivid red and suddenly—her hands were engulfed in fire.

Both not-Legolas and I froze, unsure of what to do. The thought simply did not compute with my mind.

Melnare—fire—what?

I looked from the fire somehow not burning her to her face and back. Then from her face to her not-burnt hands.

What?

Not-Legolas snapped out of his surprise first though. He tightened his grip on me and started walking backward.

"We're leaving now. Don't follow unless you want Tree-Shade to be covered in her own blood."

If I would've been able to think correctly I would've thought, too late. I've already been covered in my own blood.

But instead, I was still thinking, what?

Honestly, it shouldn't have been that hard to understand, since—you know—I'm able to shoot energy out of my body.

But still—What?

I tripped over not-Legolas's boots, making his blade scrape open the scab I had received from Kaylessa.

Melnare's eyes caught on the blood dripping down my neck. And thought the worst.

Her eyes lit with a crazed rage that instilled a bit of terror in me and—fire funneled towards not-Legolas and me.

Not-Legolas pushed me away and I hit the ground hard. My jaw clashed together from the impact and I tasted blood on my tongue.

A roar/scream of agony and anger hurt my ears as it erupted out of not-Legolas. It's not Legolas, I had to remind myself.

I looked up in time to see a great fireball racing for Melnare, somewhere in there I saw the fire hot glint of a knife—Legolas. Not-Legolas.

He outstretches his hands to carry out his promise not on me—but Melnare.

But Gandalf's white staff shot out and collided with not-Legolas's face. Not-Legolas staggered back and—

Mithrandir conjured up a spell. Not-Legolas hurriedly covered his ears to block out the enchantment, but he was too late.

His body started to sway and then—he fell. At first, I thought him dead but as the fire cleared I saw his chest rising and his eyes moving underneath his pale eyelids.

"Hurry! He'll awake before long."

Aragorn and Melnare carried out Mithrandir's command. Sam produced the rope he received in Lothlorien and handed it to his companions to carry out the task.

In a short time, we had not-Legolas bound and riding unconscious with Aragorn. I had let Merry take my riding spot with Melnare, although he seemed unsure he did it anyway.

But I was grateful to walk. I needed to think and move. Melnare would yell at me again if I started twitching.

So, I used the physical movement to think.

Melnare had an ability? No, it couldn't be. It was simply not possible.

But look at yourself, Lumornel. You can do the impossible.

Yeah, because I'm part of an ancient prophecy.

Stop being so vain.

Stop having a conversation with yourself.

"We'll rest in a house on the outskirts of the city. There we can... decide what to do with Legolas. Then we'll leave for Helm's Deep." I nodded to Aragorn's word—as did everyone else.

I decided it was time to share my plans with everyone. Although... saying it aloud would make it real.

Glancing at not-Legolas to make sure he really was unconscious, I spoke.

"I'll get him to hand the Ring over to Sam." Sam looked up in alarm.

I continued, "then he and the hobbits will continue to Mordor to carry out the mission."

Protests ensued.

I let them continue until they died out. "Look, I've heard hobbits are hardy creatures. If they weren't then we wouldn't have considered appointing Frodo and Sam to this task. Right?"

"But they will not make it on their own!" Gimli cried.

"They are small! They can hide well. And didn't I say they are hardy creatures?" But I started to doubt my own ideas.

"What would the rest of us do while the hobbits go to Mount Doom?" Aragorn questioned.

Gimli couldn't contain his outburst. After all, he is a dwarf. "Why are you entertaining this absurd idea!"

"Well, we sure can't go with them. With all nine of us, it would be too noticeable. The task would be impossible."

I openly agreed with Aragorn.

Seeing the gears turning in Mithrandir's head I hurriedly added, "we could go with them until we reach Gondor. It'll be nearly impossible to avoid a battle with the Dark Lord, so we then go gather our armies."

Aragorn nodded while being deep in thought. "I agree. Lumornel and Legolas—" I liked that he had confidence in me—"will go to Thranduil's halls to gather the wood-elves and inform Galadriel. Gimli will gather the dwarves. I'll command the Gondorian soldiers and cavalry."

"But without the Rohan cavalry, we will not have the numbers!" The hobbits agreed with Gimli. But of course they would.

"You're forgetting, Gimli son of Gloin, that we have the Hope of Men and the Tree-Shade on our side."

I smiled at Mithrandir, albeit grimly. I had not forgotten my role in this, but I wished everyone else would.

"I still say it's asking for death," the dwarf grumbled.

"Then we'll die helping Middle-Earth!" I shouted. I knew what would hit his nerve, so I said, "don't you want to be remembered as a hero?!"

But apparently, that was the wrong thing to say. "I want to be remembered as not being a fool!" he snarled.

He stared me down underneath his red brows.

After several heartbeats, I mumbled, "goheno nin."

"Speak in a language we can all understand! Not in Elvish filth!"

My eyes widened, "I'm sorry! It—it's a habit—I can't help it sometimes!"

He still stared.

"Goheno nin—it means 'forgive me.'" My hands trembled.

His beard twitched. He then said something in an unfamiliar language—dwarvish that I did not understand. "It means 'I forgive you.'"

I gave him a hesitant smile. Are we good now?

In return, he gave me a wide, brilliant one.

********

"The sign has been given and the day is not far off"
                   —Aragorn, Return of the King, page 279

*crosses fingers while hoping I put up the right chapter*

So this chapter had to be split in half. You'll get the next part next Monday. I think it was 6,000 words, now it's 3,000.

I don't like finals. Especially for Chemistry and AP World History. Ugh. Wish me luck.

Happy Holidays!!

Novaer, mellyn.

~awatin~