Chapter 8 - The Rise and Fall of Heroes

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The two armies of East and West passed a quiet if uneasy night, their watchmen eyeing one another across the trampled vastness between them. Clearing the field of the dead and the wounded had been a grisly task. Now the stage was once again a blank slate, awaiting another day of battle to bloody it.

Spirits were high though among the Men of the West as the pale Rhûnic sun rose. The previous day's success granted them much in the way of courage, and that did not exclude Eldarion, Elboron and Elfwine. The three young men bantered together as they saddled their horses and strapped on their armor.

"Take care today Elfwine, lest you inflict any more damage on that fair face of yours." Elboron was saying.

He and Eldarion had spent much of the previous evening assisting Aragorn with the care and tending of the wounded. Eldarion caught Elboron stifling a yawn with a teasing grin thrown in Elfwine's direction.

Elfwine snorted, giving the dent in his recovered helm one last tap before jamming it onto his head. Éomer lingered nearby, preparing his own gear while also making an admirable attempt at not obviously hovering.

"You could help with that cause by not finding your way into any more tight spots!" Elfwine swung up into the saddle with an easy grace that only a born and bred horseman could have managed...or perhaps an elf. "Let us all be agreed; no rescues needed today?"

"No rescues." Eldarion nodded fervently.

Gimli appeared from around Arod's flank. The dwarf wagged a finger at them, leaning an elbow on his battle axe. "Nothing's guaranteed in a fight, lads. There's no shame in needing a hand in a tight spot. Am I right Legolas?"

A head of golden hair straightened up into sight across Arod's back, bringing with it Legolas's usual placid smile. "Even the mightiest warriors need someone to protect their backs, as you and I well know, mellon-nin." The elf turned his gaze on Gimli, who shrugged nonchalantly but looked pleased all the same.

"You don't exactly make watching your back easy, laddie. When you go crawling all over those Oliphants, for example! You're more reckless than Aragorn and Éomer were fretting these three might be!"

"I take no risks that I do not fully expect to end well, Gimli." Now it was Legolas's turn to shrug in the face of his friend's good-natured scolding. "Perhaps your old age is making you more cautious?"

"My old age?! Now listen here you pointy-eared relic!"

Eldarion, Elboron and Elfwine all joined in laughing at Gimli went stumping off to give Legolas a piece of his mind. The soldiers around them likewise grinned and shook their heads, well used to the unusual friendship between dwarf and elf. The odd pair was actually something of an army legend, both for their banter as well as their fighting prowess.

"Did you hear that?" Eldarion caught his father's eye from a distance and likewise climbed up onto Greyhame's back. The time was nigh for battle to rejoin. "Our fathers actually expected us to be more reckless?"

Elfwine raised an eyebrow, making the edge of the bandage on his brow peek out at the edge of one eyehole. "Perhaps yours did; King Aragorn is after all the one who led but a few thousand Men of the West to confront sixty-thousand orcs at the Battle of the Black Gate. You have to admit, it is hard to get more reckless than that!"

"Yes, but you also must admit that the gamble paid off." Eldarion replied, feeling a tiny bit defensive.

"Timing was very much their ally then." The army around them started to move at a command from Aragorn and Éomer, and Elboron finally mounted up on his own mare. "If the One Ring hadn't been destroyed, the outcome could have been very different."

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