𝐏𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐂𝐄𝐒𝐒 | 𝐥𝐞𝐠𝐨𝐥𝐚𝐬 𝐠𝐫𝐞𝐞𝐧𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐟

𝐮𝐧𝐚𝐯𝐨𝐢𝐝𝐚𝐛𝐥𝐞

Whilst Gandalf informed Theoden of the impending war and rallying, you wandered over to a corner of the grand room. Eowyn followed you, sitting quietly on the chair beside yours, keeping her distance from the King.

"You're afraid," you guessed, making her suddenly look to you. "Afraid that ... Theoden will revert to the cursed form."

"I'd never seen anything like it before." Eowyn's voice trembled. It was melodic, despite her sadness - as though she'd been born to sing. "He wasn't himself anymore. My Uncle would never say the things Grima whispered in his ears."

She sounded like she was trying to convince herself more than you. You noticed how another tear was falling down her cheek, and you realised that whilst Eowyn hadn't been on the front lines as you had, she had still fought her own battles, and still been wounded.

"I'm sorry," you said, wincing immediately at the tiny words. "I too know how it feels to lose someone you love."

Just thinking of your father again made your heart ache, but you shoved the pain away. However, the comment just seemed to have made Eowyn sadder. She inhaled sharply, like someone had stabbed her.

"You lost someone else?" You raised your eyebrows, so sorry and empathetic for the trembling ghost of a girl sitting beside you. "Shit, Eowyn. Are you alright?"

"Theodred." The name slipped past her lips. "He was like a brother to me. And my brother of blood, Eomer, was banished by Grima Wormtongue."

You had just opened your mouth to reply, when a sudden wail ripped through the room. Theoden, you could see, was hunched over himself, incomprehensible cries echoing to where you sat further away.

The only phrase you understood was "My beautiful son."

Eowyn immediately ran to her uncle's side, comforting him with whispered words, and a hint of a melody. You watched them sadly, quietly standing to the side and listening as they made funeral arrangements. You, of course, wanted to grieve, but how much time was there before the war destroyed everything again?

- - -

The wind was cold, biting at your cheeks and whipping your hair around your face. White flowers littered the grass around the newly occupied tomb of Prince Theodred of Rohan. Eowyn sung for him, her bitter voice carried away by the wind, which spared no pity for even a moment of silence.

You could no longer stand to be there, and you slipped away quietly, trudging past grave after grave until you finally found a secluded little hill overlooking a valley. You picked a blade of grass, throwing it half-heartedly so it fell sadly back to the earth.

"What's wrong, Y/N?"

It was Legolas, and you had to admire how consistently he cared for you. He was, truly, the best boyfriend.

"Who said something was wrong?" you responded half-heartedly, not wanting to worry or burden him.

"I can see it in those beautiful e/c eyes of yours," Legolas said, sitting next to you with casual grace, brushing your hair out of your face with his soft smile. "Something's wrong. Let me help, melleth nin, please."

You tore more grass from the dirt, throwing the clump as far away as you could. "How many people have to suffer? How many must die before this awful war is over?" You blinked sudden tears from your eyes. "I hate it! I hate how we're the ones who keep losing everything. I want to take something from them for once."

"And we will," Legolas promised, though you could hear a slight lie in his voice, the uncertainty. "I promise you, Y/N, someday this will all be over. And we'll win - I have to believe that. And then maybe when can have a life together outside this war."

Your whole body went warm with the beautiful thought of having a life like that, and you could feel a flush rising in your cheeks. "Win the war first. Then plan what comes after."

"Okay," he laughed, wrapping his arm around you and pressing a gentle kiss to your temple. "Okay."

"Help!"

You stood quickly at the sound of a child's cry, shrugging Legolas's arm off your shoulders, as much as it pained you to not get more time with him.

Two children were on the back of a horse, being greeted by the palace guards. They sobbed, and told tales of a massive Orc attack.

"Shit," you hissed. "Theoden has to do something!"

- - -

Later, all of Rohan was called by order of the King.

"We move towards Helm's Deep, where there is more shelter and refuge. Take only what you need," an official declared. "And make haste. You do not wish to be fighting Orcs whilst running from them."

"Helm's Deep?" Gimli muttered scornfully. "Why flee, when they could stand and fight?"

"Avoiding war is a wise choice, Gimli," you reminded him. "And the Rohirrim are thousands of miles away. No aid will come, not unless Gondor-"

"He would never rely on Denethor," Aragorn interrupted. "The word of the King is his own, and we should listen to it if we want for shelter."

"Ready the horses," you asked of your brother. "We're leaving soon."

As Aragorn turned towards the stables, you saw Eowyn there too, and a conversation began. You hoped that the blonde was happy, after so much loss and sadness, but she could never hope for more than a broken heart with Isildur's heir.

His heart belonged to Arwen, just as yours did to Legolas.

Speaking of the Elf ...

"Come on, Y/N," he grinned, holding out a tankard he had brought from somewhere in Theoden's home. "Relax. Everything's going to work out."

You accepted the drink, sipping it tentatively. Though it soothed you, and all felt peaceful, why did a voice keep whispering that everything was going to change?

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