All my stories seem to be about Legolas, I know, but it’s only because he’s the most fun to play with, due to the fact that Tolkien didn’t give us much of anything about him. So all of his family background in this story I totally made up. And this story is unusual for me in that it is completely movie-based. I usually like a mix of movies and book, with an emphasis on the book, so I don’t really know how this story came to me… But here goes! RandR please!!!

There she was.

He had not expected to see her there; indeed, he had not even contemplated the idea that some – other than himself, of course – would be awake at this time of night, much less standing on the Deeping Wall.

Yet she was there.

Her long flaxen hair hung completely free down her back, with some of it caressing her cheeks, persuaded to do so by the slight breeze. He fair face was shining with moonlight reflected off the tears that had evidently flowed for a considerable amount of time. But they flowed no more and she merely stood there, staring into nothing and deep in thought.

He had no wish to disturb her – and, if he was to be truthful to himself, he was rather nervous about speaking to her at all, as he had never done so – and so he turned to leave. He had merely left his room to look at the stars; being surrounded by stone was less appealing to him than to others he knew and to be in such a position for as long as he had been was simply unbearable to him.

Fate, however, seemed to not want to leave it at that, because just as he turned to leave, she gave a quiet sigh and moved to leave as well. She was rather obviously startled to see him there; she had apparently either not heard or not believed the legends of the light feet of the elves. It took a mere fraction of a second for her to remember herself. She quickly rubbed her hands across her face to rid it of moisture and gave a short curtsey.

“Master Elf. Please forgive me. Is there anything you required?”

“No, no, I was merely walking and you need not apologize for anything.”

Normally he would have made more sense than that but he was quite startled as well and her question had anticipated an immediate response, which he did not have ample time for in his state.

“Oh, but I must look a mess,” she continued, exhaling nervously – that was supposed to be a laugh – and proceeded to smooth her dress and hair. It wasn’t working very well.

“Please, Lady Eowyn, do not bother yourself. You are by no means a mess. And after traveling with Aragorn for years…”

The Lady turned again to the Wall. Legolas could have slapped himself. It had just slipped out. A habit that had formed between two friends, one teasing the other for his “scruffiness” and then the former being teased for his “pristine cleanliness.”

“Forgive me, milady. I spoke without thinking and did not mean to cause pain.”

This was his method of handling grief. Its main principle was this: they are worse off than I. No matter that Eowyn had known Aragorn for no more than two days while Legolas had known him for 88 years. He had seen the hope that lit her eyes when she saw Aragorn and though he knew it would never be fulfilled by him he also noticed it had died. He hung his head and scratched one of his fingers.

What was he to do now? Was he to wait until she forgave him or leave her alone? He did know that if she were an elf, she would have immediately forgiven him and embraced him as a brother, no matter how long they had known each other. She would have been able to sense his grief even through her own and rushed to comfort him. Eowyn was not an elf.

Legolas had had few dealings with Men on a personal level. He was a prince, which meant that he was to handle diplomacy and negotiation. Not comforting.

And he also knew that Eowyn still somewhat believed the bedtime stories of her childhood, which spoke of elves as being wicked and dark creatures of sorcery. Yes, she was a grown woman and probably did not acknowledge the fact even to herself, but even a fool would have noticed that she had befriended two of the Three Hunters – and regarded them dearly – and had kept her distance from the third. Perhaps – even probably – she knew not that she did it, but the fact remained.

At last, Eowyn decided to break the uncomfortable silence.

“How long did you know him?”

A simple question with a simple enough answer: “All his life. His foster-brothers were – are – two of my closest friends, so it was unavoidable that he and I should meet.”

Legolas decided not to speak of the fact that Aragorn and he were separated from being brothers only by blood. Speaking of their deep friendship would only bring more pain, and Eowyn had only been being polite when she asked the question.

Suddenly, Eowyn’s eyes narrowed. Thinking that she was trying to recognize something in front of her, Legolas followed her line of vision. There was nothing there. He looked back at her and concluded that she was scrutinizing and organizing her own thoughts.

And indeed she was.

Just as Legolas’ method of dealing with grief was to shift the focus off of himself, Eowyn had her own method. It was to become angry, to fight against something. Normally she would find Eomer and convince him to duel with her. But her brother was not here and she had only Legolas’ words.

Her mind was replaying a conversation she had had with Eomer when they were children. This conversation had occured immediately after their mother had told them that if they didn’t get to bed quickly enough, an elf would come and take them away. Now that she thought of it, it was unnerving how accurate they had been. They had created a situation where an elf took over Rohan. Their childish minds had predicted it quite well.

An elf would never be permitted into Rohan alone; the familiar threat just used on them, not to mention the many other stories concerning elves, were commonly told and even the adults they knew believed at least some of them. The elf would have to come with someone: a friend or something. Even then, people would be suspicious, so the friend would have to be important: a king or some such thing. The elf would have to keep quiet to avoid suspicion while he spied on Rohan and Edoras. And he would have to fake a very close friendship with his companion: maybe almost a brotherhood. If it came to it, he would have to fight the enemies of Rohan in order that he would not be discovered.

Eowyn turned to Legolas. In her mind, which was confused by grief, everything fit perfectly. Had it not been after he came that Saruman finally attacked outright? How did Saruman know which route they would be taking – much less that they had even left – and so where to send his warg-riders? Had not the elf, who came with a king whom he treated as a brother, fought against the warg-riders and kept quiet while here?

And here he stood before her, face dry and eyes not even showing the slightest hint of redness nor any other sign of weeping. Or grief, for that matter, now she noticed it. Having made up her mind, she asked another question of him.

“How well did you know him?”

This was a trap, of course, though Legolas had no way of knowing what had gone through her mind in the past minute, and even if he had there was really no way to not walk into it. So he answered truthfully.

“Very well.”

She had asked outright, so he had no honorable choice other than to add: “He was as a brother to me.”

Eowyn had already made up her mind, but that one word – brother – confirmed it for her. So she took all her anger and grief out on Legolas.

“Why do you not weep, then? Your words are lies of Saruman. They are fair, but they only attempt to hide your betrayal. You never loved Aragorn; you only pretended to do so so you could come here and gather information for Saruman.”

Legolas was taken aback. He had noticed that she must have been contemplating something in her silence and guessed that it was himself when she looked at him. But he knew not what she was thinking, how much less that she was going to be angry at him. Her voice had started softly but grew in volume. She never reached a screaming level, however. She was too tired and did not wish to waste too much of her energy on a traitor.

“And you continue your deception even after he is gone. Can you not even act as if you cared for me in my grief? Do you even care anything for my pain? How could you? You know nothing of grief or pain. You are immortal. No one you love can die, for they are all elves. Only Men die and them you do not befriend, not truly.”

Then she merely stood there. A single tear had escaped her during her tirade and her cheeks had a slight hint of pink, but those were the only changes in her appearance. Legolas looked at her for a moment, then gave a quick bow and walked away.

He knew there was nothing he could say to improve the situation; she had made a decision about him and there was no way to persuade her to abandon it, especially in her mood at present. To Eowyn, his lack of response was further proof – which she needed not – that he was a traitor. Of course, Legolas was right: she wouldn’t admit it to herself, but any response would have been proof to her.

\\\\\\\///////////////

Somehow – and he never fully understood how – the messenger managed to move from the doorway before Eowyn reached it. It was a close call, however, and many people wondered at the stream of golden hair that raced through the corridors closely afterwards.

The one constant thought in her mind was: I must tell him.

She had not even completely realized that Aragorn was back; her deepest regret after “discovering” Legolas was that Aragorn had probably died thinking the elf would mourn for him. Now she had a chance to make sure that would never happen. Though Aragorn would be terribly disappointed finding out that his friend had betrayed him, better that he find out sooner. She had told no one of her musings; she hadn’t really had time. Besides, chances were the elf would run away during the battle anyway.

Then Aragorn stood before her. He looked as if he had indeed died – many times, in fact – and had not quite come completely back to life yet. He gave her a small smile and a look that seemed to say, “Well, I made it.” She smiled as well, then ran to his arms. While they embraced, she whispered into his ear, “I have something of utmost importance to tell you.” They separated and he gave her a confused look, then said, “I have a message for the king, but I will be brief. I will find you.” And he was gone.

After a while, a messenger led him to her chambers. She was sitting in one of two chairs by the fire and immediately indicated that he should sit in the unoccupied chair. Then she began.

She told him everything she believed about Legolas. All her evidence, his behavior, everything.

One might think that once she said it all out loud, she would have realized how foolish it all was. And under normal circumstances this would be a safe assumption to make, as she was more intelligent than she often let others believe. However, the shift from deep grief to deep joy does many strange things to the mind and in this case decided to manifest itself in this way.

Aragorn’s expression changed many times during the monologue. Amusement, offence, surprise, anger, and sadness all expressed themselves at one time or another on his face.

After Eowyn had finished, she sat and waited for him to say something. Finally, he sighed deeply and started speaking.

“I will begin by addressing the things you stated to be evidence of Legolas’ treachery. First of all, what does anyone in Rohan know of elves? There are none who have even seen an elf other than Legolas. None here have the right to tell stories about them.

“As to his quietness: that is simply his nature. He does not make friends easily for the simple reason that he has lost many and the first thing that comes to his mind when he finds a friend is that they will probably die.

“Of course he fought the warg-riders; he is not a traitor.

“He did weep for me; I have no doubt of that. Simply because he did not do so in front of you does not mean he did not do so at all. He is the prince of a kingdom that has been at war for millenia. In many cases, the only strength his people have comes from the belief that their king and prince have nothing to weep for. He has learned to hide his emotions for the sake of his people.

“And regarding my friendship with him….” He paused. This was what hurt him the most.

“Did you think so little of me that I would befriend a traitor? What of Gandalf? Even though he is not very popular in Rohan, surely he is not believed to be capable of bringing traitors into Meduseld. You belittle Gimli’s judgment as well. If you say that we could not have known, you belittle our perceptiveness. Legolas is my brother in heart. I have known him all my life. He has saved my life countless times.”

Aragorn then remembered himself. He had unconciously raised his voice. Then he made his final point.

“Finally, regarding the information you said he reported to Saruman: You have forgotten the Wormtongue and placed my best friend in his position.”

Then he rose from the chair. Eowyn was shocked. How could she have been so thoughtless? She could have kicked herself. All she could think to do was apologize.

“I am extremely sorry, milord. I… I was going to say that I did not think, but that would be a lie, obviously. I was terribly unreasonable and do not now know how I could have thought what I did.”

She wanted to say more, to emphasize that she was sincere, but realized that would probably only serve in annoying Aragorn, who was already cross with her. So she stopped speaking and hung her head in shame.

Aragorn rubbed his face. He was tired and honestly didn’t know if he had been more cross with her than was warranted; he was in no shape to evaluate it at the moment. But she was truly sorry; he did see that, at least.

“I accept your apology, milady.”

He knelt, placing himself in her line of vision. As she looked at him, he said, “But there is another who deserves it more.”

Her eyes dropped again. How could she face Legolas? Yes, Aragorn had forgiven her readily enough, but it was not he whom she had accused of being a spy of Saruman and he was a friend of hers. Aragorn apparently read her mind and said, “Best to do it sooner.” He gave her a small smile. “I need to take some rest.” Then he rose and left the room.

\\\\\\\\\\////////////////////////

She found him on the wall, near the spot where they had met last night, in fact.

He heard her footsteps and turned around before she had even recognized him, but waited silently. Once it was clear that she had seen him and started moving purposefully toward him, he glanced nervously to his left, then back to her. When she got near enough to read his face, she found that task impossible. Truly, it had always been difficult for her to discern his emotions from his expressions; she always figured it was simply because he was an elf. This was true, but now she knew that he was presently a prince and so she could tell nothing.

Legolas himself was rather nervous. He knew not if she had come to her senses yet. If she had not, this encounter would definitely be uncomfortable. If she had, she was there to apologize and he disliked when others apologized to him. He simply did not enjoy the attention, nor the feeling that others were in his debt, even if they were.

When she finally reached him she rubbed her hands for a few seconds, then said, “I have been a fool. My eyes were tainted by sorrow and I did not see the facts correctly. I have spoken to Aragorn and he presented to me the facts in the correct light, as well as the reasons for your actions that I had considered treasonous. All I can do now is offer my sincere and deep apologies for my untrue accusations. I do not expect that you will forgive me at this moment, but if in the future it seems right to you and you feel you can do so, I shall gratefully accept your forgiveness.”

The entire time she spoke, she had been looking at his face but only occasionally did she look him directly in the eye. She was nervous and did not wish to appear bold at this particular moment.

After she finished she cursied deeply, then turned.

“Milady.”

The soft call caused her to turn again. His face had switched back to a normal elf-face: difficult to interpret but not impossible. At the moment he seemed to be nervous and apologetic, but she couldn’t quite be sure.

“You need not wait for forgiveness; I give it to you now freely. I do know what grief is and how it can affect the mind.”

She was speechless for a moment, then discovered her tongue.

“Thank you, milord. If you don’t mind me asking… well… what I mean…”

She decided then that she had made enough of a fool of herself for one apology. But now he was curious.

“What is it? Please do not hesitate. I would rather like us to be friends.”

That last was spoken with a smile on his lips. She decided to take her cue from that and smiled as well.

“Well, I just wanted to ask – and you do not have to answer if it is not your wish – how do you control grief so well if you do know what it can do?”

The answer was simple.

“Practice.”

“But how? Elves are immortal; you cannot die and your friends that are elves cannot die.”

“That is not true. The word ‘immortal’ is used often to describe us, yes, but we are not truly immortal. We simply do not die of old age and are less susceptible – if not immune – to most diseases and poisons. We can be killed by a wound. Most of my elven friends have died. My grandfather and brother died on the same day when I was a child and my mother was killed a few months later. And my best friend will die someday: a fact I was just suddenly reminded of yesterday. So, yes, I do know sorrow well.”

She suddenly felt uncomfortable. Maybe she had said the wrong thing. What she did not know was that, though it was true that Legolas did not volunteer this information to simply anyone, it was sort of a test for him. He had discovered long ago that he possessed a certain – and to his knowledge unique – intuition: if he felt comfortable presenting his grief to someone, that someone was to be a good friend. So if Aragorn had been present when Legolas mentioned the deaths of his friends – and especially his family – Aragorn would have told Eowyn that she was now Legolas’ friend.

Legolas sensed her unease and knew its source, so he realized he had to give a less subtle clue.

“Milady, I wonder if you would like to break your fast with Aragorn and me? I must get him to eat something after his latest fiasco, the only way I shall convince him to do so will be to eat with him, and I think you must eat as well. Am I correct in saying that you have not eaten since Aragorn’s fall?”

Eowyn was surprised at this mood change – she wondered if it was common among Elves and would eventually find that it was – but recovered quickly and smiled.

“Yes, I suppose so. I had not even thought of food, between believing Aragorn was dead and you a traitor…” Legolas gave a laugh at this; a true elven laugh that gladdened Eowyn’s heart to hear. “And I would enjoy company.”

Legolas then bowed and offered her his arm and, still smiling, the new friends went to find food and then the future King of Men.