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About half a day after that encounter with Legolas, the swordsmaster's attention had been successfully diverted to more important matters after she had received information that Aragorn had successfully relayed the news of the impending attack on Helm's Deep to the king. Such a dreadful fact they had been lucky enough to come across to as they were riding towards Rohan's fortress.
At least this provided them an edge -no matter how small it may be. It bought them time to prepare and establish an army since both the Dunedain and swordsmaster had thankfully been rational and conscious enough to make an estimation of the assailants.
It was not an unknown fact that even the King had been overwhelmed by the number they had spoken of, at least not to Celine.
She had seen the fear reek from every fiber of his being despite of the strong front he desperately tried to put up, the same fright that had lead him in a panicked decision to require every able bodied men to participate in the incoming battle regardless of age.
"Farmers, ferriers, stable boys, this isn't an army." Aragorn was the first to speak as what was left of The Fellowship at the moment helped the men prepare for battle.
Gimli was quick to defend as he looked around, entirely not wanting to agree with the obvious fact and at least giving everyone the benefit of a doubt, "Aye, some of them might've seen many winters."
"Or too few." Legolas had momentarily snapped, an act that was quite against his normally calm nature. Apprehension had been building up inside him at the notion of putting all these men into war and he had not hesitated to put them into words.
"Look at them, you could see the fear in their eyes," he went on and this drew the attention of all the men in the room towards the elf. The clanging of metal swords, shields, armors and bustling bodies had momentarily paused as they watched the scene unfold. A few of them a bit offended by the ellon's comment.
Noticing this, Legolas quickly switched to his own native language, "And what will it be? Three hundred, against what - ten thousand?" He paced, frowning at the ground then at Aragorn.
"You doubt too much," Aragorn followed after the elf so as to save the people's morale from further damage.
"I must agree with Legolas. These are not warriors," the swordsmaster counters firmly, gesturing at the people around. As she scanned the anxious faces, her eyes locked on soft browns that belonged to one particular little boy who looked more afraid than everyone else yet it didn't stop the courage she had seen in not only his eyes but deep in his heart as well.
Sending the boy a small comforting smile, she turned back to her comrades with a grim expression on her face, "I am certain that even a stout heart would not be of much use in actual battle without the skills and experience to match..."
"They will be slaughtered." The ellon concluded, all hope seeming to fade from his eyes, "There is no way they would be able to win this war and you know it." He gritted his teeth, piercing blues searching the Dunedain's. Wordlessly questioning as to why he even approved of the king's decision in the first place.
Upon hearing this, Celine quickly went to Aragorn's defence, "None of us had a choice. The king had never listened to anyone, not even Gandalf. Had he been then he would have never made such a foolish decision as to leading his people to Helm's Deep in the first place." She glared up at him all trace of that broken girl he saw earlier gone in the wind as if this was an entirely different person.
"Then this would be the end for all of them then?" The ellon shook his head, face scrunched in disbelief and his voice bitter as he seethed, "dying because of their king's rash decisions and not being able to speak for their lives. Blindly following a foolish ruler to their deaths..."
The swordsmaster had always been rational when it came to wars, and always had been even back then when she was nothing more but an apprentice. Aware of all the prices to be paid to win battles as if the lives that were lost had been nothing but mere gold coins to pay for a larger cause such as freedom.
But she could only take too much talk about death that is yet to come. For her, who had been raised by the notion that there had and will always be hope -no matter how small- there is just so much about defeat that she could not take when she still had the minute chance of winning.
Dangerously stalking forward, she took hold of the collar of the elf's tunic and pulled him down to her level, enunciating each and every word as if she's trying -with immense effort- to change his course of thoughts, "Do not talk as if all hope is lost. The storm is yet to come and the rain had not even started to fall but you're acting as if the waters are already claiming your body." She paused, shaking her head as if to say that he used to be better than this. Seeing images of the Legolas that had not cowered from fighting numerous enemies even though they had slim chances of winning, the courageous and blindly dedicated noble elf prince that was nowhere to be found in the helpless ellon right in front of her face.
"You are already counting the piles of corpses when the war itself is still at bay. If you would go on with your current state of mind, then we would most certainly lose." She was aware that her eyes might've gone a bit too fiery and her words came out a little too venomous for her liking but if it meant that she'll be able to stabilize the archer's train of thoughts then she would be willing to play the bad guy and be the one slapping him with facts and reality across the face when no one would.
Plus, she herself is as much on edge as her companions are at the moment. Her temper had just reached it's peak not too long ago and it seemed as if her internal supply of patience for the day had entirely ran out.
Legolas measured her up with an intense glare of his own even though he did not say a single word and before she knew it, she was letting him go with a brusque shove.
The blond elf easily regained his balance and stood back to his full height, still glowering at the pair of humans in front of him, "even if you are to say that you have already seen too much war, as you put it. It does not mean you know everything about it-"
"You speak as if you know everything about it." Celine immediately cut him off with a scoff as she crossed her arms over her chest.
The elf shook his head in exasperation, his blue eyes no longer piercing but more worn out and drained, "Death is inevitable, you of all people should know that, Celine."
"And whoever said that I did not?" She questioned, willing the threatening quiver off her lips. Trying her hardest not to flinch or show any signs that a painful nostalgia had just managed to worm in her defenses.
And it was just the exact moment that Aragorn chose to rekindle his participation in the heated argument once more.
Averting both sides' attention away from each other's throats and effectively ending what could've been another one of their many arguments -regarding a past he is yet to know of- by doing something completely foolish in the process such as yelling the exact words they were avoiding to speak,
In Westron.
"Then I shall die as one of them!"
Both lavender and piercing blue eyes turned to look at him in shock, their owners frozen in place and Celine barely keeping herself from hitting the Dunedain square on the head. Every single soul in the room fell deathly silent, all hope either regained at the notion of having a willing man to fight alongside them or resigned at the impossibility of them winning it at all.
They are worrying not only for their own lives after all.
"There was a reason why we chose to speak in Elvish, Aragorn." Celine sighed and rubbed her throbbing temples.
Legolas couldn't keep the snort that escaped his lips and the sound had still been bothersome even after he tried covering it with his hand. The swordsmaster quickly turned to him and raised an eyebrow, to which he only replied by clearing his throat, "Pardon me."
"Okay, I am sick of not understanding a single word you three are speaking! Now tell me what it is!" Gimli bellowed as he rose from his seat and stomped his feet as he trudged towards the direction of the trio.
All men turned to them at the possibility of an explanation since they were all on the same boat of the unreceiving end like the dwarf.
"I will talk some sense to the king." The swordsmaster declared suddenly as she excused herself and went out of the tent not once turning back to see how her comrades and the men of Rohan took her veiled words of hope.
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Celine is entirely against the idea of letting all those young boys go to war, much less force them out against their own will. Some of the elderlies that happened to be dragged into it deserved to live whatever is left of their years in peace.
She voiced it all in evident disagreement, the king being a bit too condescending despite of his shaken state that the swordsmaster had barely kept her manners intact.
To say that her audience with the king had not ended up well would be an understatement.
King Theoden practically loathes her because of her galls now.
But that didn't mean she would stop trying. Not when she could do something to save those innocent children and old men so they could live the rest of their lives in peace. It was her pledge as a priestess.
It still is, tenfold now that she is a swordsmaster as well.
-----☆To be continued