Ch-10 Rating: PG

Chapter 10 – Remains of Battles

Legolas and Dèorwyn had been true to the oath they made that first night out of Helm’s Deep. From that night on, they were fellow combatants, not lovers. Events happened so rapidly, there was no time to consider otherwise. One thing followed quickly on the heels of the other – all leading inexorably to war.

The confrontation at Isengard turned out differently than expected. There was no battle. The Ents had already seen to the destruction of Saruman’s stronghold. The joy of that journey was in finding Merry and Pippin, alive and well, with all their Hobbit resourcefulness still intact.

Legolas, Gimli and all the Rohirrim returned to Helm’s Deep with Aragorn where the forces of the Dunedain gathered to him. The Elf and the Dwarf steadfastly followed the future king through the Paths of the Dead, on to the battlefields of Gondor – and the finale at the Black Gate.

Aragorn made his decision – Dèorwyn and Èowyn were to remain at Helm’s Deep. But the stubborn shield maidens, assuming the guise of young soldiers, joined the Rohirrim in the battle at Gondor.

It was now six weeks since the end of the war – the destruction of The Ring. Aragorn and his troops had departed immediately from the Morannon to the Field of Cormallen. There they remained while Frodo and Sam returned to health.

Six weeks since he had last seen her.

As they came to the crest of a hill, the Pellenor Fields spread before them. They could see the walls, towers and spires of The White City climbing the mountainside – glittering in the morning sun.

It was like a reward when Legolas saw Dèorwyn in the fields, working with Aredhel.

The poor horse had been scared witless by the sounds of battle and the war cries of men, beasts, and horns. The final damaging terror had come as Dèorwyn stood near Èowyn when she struck down the Nazgul. The black rider’s breath had touched Aredhel, ending her sanity.

Dèorwyn had dedicated herself to healing and retraining the horse that had been her companion for so long; determined that she would again ride this now wild animal.

Legolas turned to look at the gift he brought her. Although no other horse would equal Shadowfax, this one could have been his offspring, so alike was she in appearance. He had taken to calling her ‘Melethant’ – Gift of Love. Maybe Dèorwyn would keep the name.

From the high towers of the City, trumpets sounded, heralding the approach of the King. Their peals brought cheers of triumph and joy from the men of Aragorn’s company. Near to Legolas, the King’s clarion returned the call.

The blare of horns and the shouts of men rejoicing split the air of the quiet afternoon, sounding much as they had six weeks ago when the fields were filled with rallying cries to war.

Inexperienced in ritual or war, Melethant began to dance nervously, tossing her head against the lead. Realizing the loud noises were harsh on the ears of a spirited horse, Legolas quickly soothed her. He then worried about Aredhel.

Below their vantage point, Dèorwyn turned her back on her horse as she shielded her eyes and scanned the horizon, searching the ranks of the returning regiment for one golden head. Her heart leapt as she spotted Legolas, riding at the King’s right hand. It was a glorious sight, banners unfurled and waving in the morning breeze. The sun glinted off armor and clarion. So entranced was Dèorwyn at the sight of the returning warriors, and her love for one in particular, that Aredhel went forgotten behind her. She did not see her horse rear in terror.

~ ^ ~

Legolas chose to remain in the fields with Dèorwyn. At his insistence, Aragorn and his troops had ridden on toward Gondor.

Warm breezes from the south stirred the tall grasses, moving them in ripples that shimmered and sighed. Their sound mingled with Elf whisperings to create a soothing song.

Dèorwyn’s head lay in his lap and Legolas gently caressed her cheek, tracing her full bottom lip with his thumb. Trailing his fingertips along her jaw and down her throat to the hollow, he found the pulse point that now was still. Her eyes no longer saw Legolas but instead reflected the light of the sky. Dèorwyn’s final smile of love and contentment remained.

In her terror, Aredhel had reared and kicked out – her madness seeing threat instead of friend. The horse lay where she had fallen nearby, Legolas’ golden-feathered shaft piercing her heart.

Distracted by Melethant, Legolas had not seen Dèorwyn’s mistake until it was too late. This time his arrow had not been swift enough.

~ End ~