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The ground below me was still hard when I awoke, but now it was flatter, and I could feel some sort of fabric below me. Something stiff was propping my head up. I felt a bind on my leg where I'd received a gash from an Uruk-Hai blade. Wherever I was, it was darker than outside, lit by torchlight, and buzzing with faint and quiet chatter.
Suddenly, a cool cloth was placed on my forehead. It felt wonderful on my face, which was still burning up after the heat of battle. I opened my eyes, to meet those of Éowyn, who pressed the cloth to my forehead, watching me anxiously.
She cracked a smile at seeing me awake, immediately making to stand the moment my eyes had opened.
"Wait, where are you going?" I asked, trying to sit up, but feeling a sharp jolt of pain shoot up my spine.
"Don't move on your own," she knelt back down, removing the leather armour that had been propping up my head, then helping me to sit up against the wall, "He asked that I fetch him when you woke."
With that, Éowyn turned out of the room, which I recognized as the one Aragorn, Legolas, and I had consulted with Théoden inside. It looked as though it had been turned into a medical wing of sorts; the injured fighters in rows spread out across the hall, separated by spaces just small enough to walk through. Everything that could be spared; blankets, leather armour, fabric, had been used as makeshift bedrolls for the injured. Most were surrounded by women and children, their families, and their friends. All of which sported radiant smiles at their loved ones surviving the battle.
I sat against the left wall, propped up so as to have a good view over the hall, and its tenants. I recognized Freda and Éothain's grandfather among them, injured, but not gravely. I didn't, however, spot Gimli, Legolas, Aragorn, or even Ailen among the wounded.
A woman passed up and down the narrow isles, offering hot soup to those well enough to sit up. Most took it graciously, but when she came to me, I felt my appetite suddenly vanished, and instead politely declined.
As my gaze wandered the quiescent Hall, they came to rest on the patient directly to my left, eyes closed and breathing shallow. A lump rose into my throat. A bloodied bandage covered some deep gash on his lower stomach.
"Ailen?" I asked tentatively, placing a hand on his shoulder.
The boy did not stir.
"He is only asleep," the woman who'd been dishing out soup had paused in her tracks, turning back and looking at me.
"Will he be alright?"
The woman smiled, drawing closer to me. I noticed something familiar in her brown eyes, her gentle movements.
"He's going to be just fine, thanks to you," she replied, kneeling at my side, and clasping my hand, "I owe you a great debt, for saving my son's life."
"Your son?"
The woman nodded.
"His father was slaughtered when the Wildemen took our village. We came here seeking refuge, only to find that my boy would not get it. He is only a child... Made to fight a man's battle," she shook her head disdainfully, "He was awake some time ago. Told me what you taught him, how you protected him. My Lady, I don't care what the people say... You are no monster. You are nothing like Him."
I didn't ask what she meant. I knew it already. Rumors of my powers had only grown. They thought I was a monster. I didn't even have to ask who 'Him' was. I knew that too. The people of Rohan, the people I'd fought so hard to protect... They'd begun to compare me to Sauran. And could I blame them?
I shook the thoughts from my mind, focusing my attention back on Ailen's mother.
"Thank you for your kindness, Miss," I smiled feebly.
"It's not half as much as you deserve," she said, standing, "Get well."
With that, she turned back down the aisle, resuming her previous task and leaving me to my thoughts.
Some of the conscious and more aware patients, I began to notice, stole several curious, and sometimes even bitter glances my way. My face heated up in shame, and soon I opted to just watch the entrance doors for Éowyn, tired of observing the wounded.
It seemed like ages until the doors at last flew open, to reveal a very persistent looking Gandalf. He closed the distance between us in only a few long strides and was knelt at my side in moments.
"If I've said it one, I've said it a thousand times, my dear, you are ever resolute," he smiled, patting me on the shoulder.
I opened my mouth to speak, but found I didn't know where to begin, only managing a croaky stammer as I shook my head.
"Doubtless you've several questions, and I shall answer them to the best of my ability," Gandalf said, reaching into one of his pockets, and extracting my mother's necklace.
"Evendim... So I wasn't dreaming? You did take it? You performed an enchantment on it?" I asked.
I felt a heavy pull to the necklace, one that I couldn't entirely explain. It felt as though it was calling me, beckoning me to reach out, to take it. I almost surprised myself in snapping my arm up and opening my palm, waiting for Gandalf to drop it in my outstretched hand. My brow furrowed when he hesitated to comply.
"Now what I've done, Elena, is something you may never forgive me for... Legolas argues I'd no right to, Aragorn thinks I'd no other choice," Gandalf seemed reluctant to speak, dropping my gaze and occupying himself, instead, with the necklace.
"Gandalf?" my frown deepened, as I waited for him to go on.
"The One Ring was forged in the fires of Mount Doom, by the Dark Necromancer. He placed his own power into it, as a means of both preserving it and amplifying it, whilst distributing his control to the free peoples of Middle Earth through the subsequent rings," Gandalf tried to explain, succeeding only in making me more confused, "What I mean to say, Elena, is that while I could not destroy or take your powers, I could, as Sauron did with the One Ring, transfer your powers into this necklace, forged deep in the Halls of Erebor, as a gift to your mother."
There was a pause, during which neither of us spoke, and both of us watched Evendim, which trembled slightly in Gandalf's grip.
"Your mother never intended these powers to take you over, to prove too great. But what I saw when I descended that hill, it reminded me of those victim to the Ring's temptation. It reminded me of how Frodo suffered at bearing the power of the Ring. It reminded me of its hold over old Bilbo Baggins," Gandalf said, "But this power, Elena, is one you will need before the end. One that Middle Earth as a whole will need before the end. So I had to preserve it. And in time, you will have to use it. And it will be much the same as today. The struggle against the darkness will return. But today, I've prolonged the return of your powers. For I know that you cannot master them, at least not before you've fallen victim to them."
"I leave you, now, with a choice. You may keep Evendim as it is, in which case your powers will return when you are wearing the pendant, much like the One Ring. Or, you may seal your power to Evendim, only to return, and to return permanently, to your body upon the pendant's destruction."
"And if I choose the first? Will the power eat away at me as the One Ring does its bearer?" I asked.
"The power, I'm afraid, will eat away at your mind in either case. If you do indeed choose the first, your power will eventually consume you, torment your mind in a fashion eerily similar to that of the One Ring. If you choose the second, however, you may delay this consumption of your mind. It will be as though your powers have vanished entirely. That is, until you chose to reactivate them, break the seal and destroy Evendim, at which point the darkness will consume your mind almost instantaneously, as it did today."
"So either way, I'm too weak for my mother's powers? I've failed her?"
"Far from it, Elena," Gandalf said, frowning, "You must remember that your mother had years to hone these powers, to manage and build strength against the darkness, to balance it with the light. I never did agree with her giving you her powers. But it was a desperate last plea. She only wanted to protect you. She was blinded by her love for you, fooled into thinking you could shoulder the powers, when really, no being on this earth, not even I, could shoulder powers so great without falling victim to the darkness. But you, Elena, you managed to keep control. I didn't arrive at dawn, you know. I arrived long enough after for the powers to have consumed the mind of any average person. And yet there you stood, keeping control over the powers and fighting the darkness. Your will is strong. The strongest I've seen in anyone."
"And yet not strong enough."
"You're as strong as Middle Earth needs you to be, my dear," Gandalf said, giving my shoulder a squeeze, "Now, what would you have me do with this?"
He gestured at Evendim. I watched it tentatively, feeling the pull already. The same pull I would feel, the same pull I would struggle to resist until it eventually consumed me. Just as the Ring was doing to Frodo. And yet, could I truly go through the experience I'd just gone through with my powers for a second time? I shook my head. I had to. It was inevitable. I had no choice.
"How do I seal my powers?" I asked, "And when it comes time, how do I undo it?"
"By blood can your powers be sealed, and by blood may the seal be undone," Gandalf answered, extracting a small knife from his cloak, and handing it to me, "Repeat what I say exactly. A esgal-o agar na gwedhi i rodyn-o dúr a galad."
"A esgal-o agar na gwedhi i rodyn-o dúr a galad," I winced, tracing a thin line across the palm of my hand.
The same silvery substance as before-my blood-appeared from the line, pooling in the centre of my hand. I looked to Gandalf. He clasped my hand, turning it on its side so that a droplet of blood formed on the edge of my hand. I watched as it grew longer and thinner, before dropping from my hand and spilling on to the jewel-centre of the sun. The jewel glowed a bright purple, and hushed voices seemed to emanate from it. My blood was absorbed by the pendant, and the glow faded, along with the whispers.
"It is done," Gandalf said.
"And to undo it, I do the same?"
"Exactly the same. The seal can only be broken by your blood, and by your tongue alone," Gandalf nodded grimly.
"Those words, Gandalf... What do they mean?" I asked tentatively.
"A veil of blood to bind the powers of dark and light. That is their direct translation."
I nodded, falling silent as Gandalf placed the pendant in my other hand, before beginning to bind the fresh wound on my palm. I placed the pendant in the pocket of my pants, avoiding Gandalf's eyes as he wrapped my hand.
"Don't despair, my dear Elena. Your mother would have been proud," Gandalf said, and I responded with grim silence.
When he at last finished binding my hand, he made to stand. I attempted to follow but was immediately met with the same pain as before.
Gandalf sighed.
"The pain you felt at receiving your powers, Elena, was real. I know you've experienced it in dreams before. Then, it was only a figment of your mind. This time, the fiery sensation you felt, the excruciating pain, it was real. Your body will take time to recover from it."
"But I must see the others, Gandalf, please."
"I thought you might insist," he smiled warmly, "That is why I asked that Éowyn fetch this."
He gestured beside me, where a long shaft of wood lay by my feet. A walking stick. I smiled softly, accept Gandalf's outstretched hand, and coming slowly to my feet. I leaned heavily on the staff for support, walking with weak and shuddering steps beside Gandalf.
"How many days?" I winced.
"Perhaps a week, though I can't be sure."
The polished walking stick felt cool in my grip, shaking a little with each step I took. The stares I attracted were impossible to ignore as we exited the hall, some full of malice, others what I could only liken to fear. I kept my eyes glued to the floor as I ambled through the doorway, and out into the brisk air outside.
"How long since the war was won?"
"No more than a few hours," Gandalf answered, squinting into the bright sun overhead.
He blocked the rays of the sun with the back of his hand, eyes searching Helm's Deep, bustling with people recovering from the battle, and celebrating its wage. At last, he paused on the object of his search, placing a hand on my shoulder and guiding me forwards. I was unable to see where he led me, squinting against the sun that seemed almost harshly white. But I didn't need my eyes to recognize his voice. Nor the feel of his arms around me.
"Elena," he said as he wrapped me in a secure embrace.
"Aragorn," I breathed, sinking into him.
My eyes, at last adjusted to the afternoon sun, were able to make out Aragorn, now peering down at me with worried eyes. Behind him, Gimli smiled warmly, and Legolas stared with stern and unreadable eyes.
"Good to see you, lass," Gimli chuckled, clapping me on the shoulder.
I was touched at their lack of hesitation when it came to making contact with the skin that would've burned them mere moments ago. Except for Legolas, who remained reserved and watchful a few feet away. I decided against asking why. Perhaps because I already knew. Perhaps because, despite what he'd told me, he did fear my powers. He feared me.
I swallowed back the lump in my throat, focusing my attention instead on Aragorn and Gimli.
To the Dwarf's poorly concealed surprise, I wrapped him in a quick embrace as well.
"I'm glad to see the three of you safe," I smiled kindly.
Gimli smirked, looking as though he was proud of something. I quirked a brow, prompting him to explain.
"Forty three," he said, folding his arms snuggly.
"And the Elf?" I asked.
"Forty two," Gimli grinned.
"Forty three, don't pretend as though that wasn't my kill," Legolas chimed in.
"He was dead!" Gimli through his hands up.
"Dead Uruk-Hai don't twitch," Legolas shot back.
"He was twitching because he had my axe embedded in his nervous system!" Gimli said.
"Your bickering is useless, ladies," I interrupted, "Because I managed a lofty forty four, with ease. And this was before the arrival of dawn, I might add."
"The three of you were lucky I wasn't counting my own kills, else you would be mortified," Aragorn said with a smile.
"Cocky are we?" I couldn't help but smile back.
"Only when I have reason to be."
I chuckled.
"Elena!" I turned at the sound of my brother's voice from behind me.
He raced through the crowd, whom I could not help but notice were persisting in casting me wary glares. Théoden, Éomer, and Éowyn were tailing Cyne eagerly. As soon as he'd reached me, Cyne wrapped me in a crushing embrace, made all the more painful by my condition. I suppressed a groan, returning his hug weakly.
"You made it," he smiled brightly.
"Not only did she make it, she played an essential part in winning us the battle," Théoden cut in, clapping me gently on the shoulder and meeting my gaze, "Rohan owes you a great debt, Elena."
Éowyn was next to hug me, saying nothing, but cracking a sincere smile and shedding a tear. Last came Éomer, who nodded appreciatively at me.
"Thank you," he said, "For my sister, for Helm's Deep, everything. Rohan is undeserving of an ally like Aerith, and we treasure the benevolence you've shown us in being here."
"Aerith is loyal to its allies. And Rohan is one of them. Don't call it benevolence, for it is not charity, but loyalty and friendship that drove me to fight for your kingdom," I said.
Silence fell over us, and everyone's gazes seemed fixed elsewhere. I knew what was on their minds. What they wanted to ask. I sighed, fishing Evendim out of my pocket.
"I know the question you all fear to ask me... The subject you all fear to acknowledge," I said.
"I've informed everyone present as to the prophecy and your inherent powers... I've left it to you to tell them what you have done with those powers," Gandalf said.
I nodded gingerly.
"My powers have been sealed by Aduial, to be released only on my command, only when they are needed. And they will be before this war has reached its end. For now, they are dormant, when they are needed I will awaken them with a bond only I can perform," I said, running my finger over the sun pendant and thinking of my father.
I shut my eyes tightly, a sickly feeling rising in my throat. I dropped the pendant back in my pocket. The sickly feeling vanished. I looked back up at the others, the friends that surrounded me.
"Please know," I said to Théoden, "I meant no harm to your men. I tried to control the powers as best I could ... I wasn't strong enough but I... Just know that harming your people was never my intent."
"You harmed none of my people, Elena. You gave many of them a good scare but at the end of it, you saved them. Give them time, and they will realize it," Théoden responded, giving my shoulder a quick squeeze before ambling back into the crowd.
"Get well, my friend," Éomer hugged me, before following after him.
Éowyn and Cyne followed them, leaving only Gandalf, Gimli, Legolas, and Aragorn in my company. It felt oddly comforting to be in naught but the company of what remained of the Fellowship.
"What happens now?" I turned to Gandalf.
"The citizens of Edoras will return to their homes, lead there by Éowyn and Cyne," Gandalf replied.
"Théoden decided this?" I frowned, "How can he be sure Saruman won't retaliate? Send his Wildmen, his Dark Fae mercenaries?"
"Isengard is destroyed," Gandalf responded darkly, "The Ents of Fangorn stormed its walls in the dawn, reducing it to ruin. Saruman is defeated."
"There will be a terrible reprisal," I said grimly, my eye fixed eastwards, towards Mordor.
"Indeed," Gandalf nodded grimly, "We will ride out, joined by Théoden, Éomer, and Gamling, to seek peace with the White Wizard, and to reunite with our companions there. But the battle of Isengard has been fought. There is no need for anymore bloodshed there."
My mind raced, processing a thousand thoughts a minute. My heart hammered, it soared in light of the news. Saruman was defeated, his wrath was no more. The Dark Fae and Dunlindings had taken a critical hit. We would see Merry and Pippin again. And, for the first time since I'd woken up, for the first time since I'd heard the news, I was able to fully process the fact that Aerith's war had been won.
My hopes felt higher than ever, so much so that it seemed to me the prospect of two little Hobbits infiltrating Mordor and destroying the Ring didn't seem so impossible.
"We leave as soon as you are ready."
✶
I followed Legolas through Helm's Deep, weaving through celebrating fighters, mourning wives, and a mix of children both scared and cheerful. All of them watched me skeptically as I passed them by. I didn't fail to notice that nearly every single one of these glares was warded off by a strong one from Legolas who walked silently at my side. I'd left my staff behind, feeling strong enough to walk-or rather limp-without it.
Suddenly, I felt a sharp sting at the back of my neck. I felt it with my hand, turning back. A child, no less than ten, was staring at me with a frown, one hand full of rocks, the other reeling to throw another my way. I paused in my tracks as this one bounced off my shoulder.
"Monster!" he shouted angrily.
"Get away, get away from her!" a woman, the boy's mother, shouted, rushing to the side of her child and pulling him back.
The noise had drawn the attention of the majority of those surrounding us, many of which were children. Encouraged by the first child, these ones took up rocks as well. And their parents weren't around to stop them. I felt another rock hit my side. And another, the side of my head. Legolas seethed with anger, taking a step towards the children, who responded with terrified steps backwards.
I placed a hand on Legolas' chest, stopping him.
"Leave them be," I said distantly, turning back around and continuing on.
The rocks began to pelt me again, and I cringed each time one hit me. I soon realized it wasn't only children who threw them. I kept my eyes on the ground as I walked, now well ahead of Legolas.
It seemed the distance between us and the armoury where we were headed was endless. But eventually we made it, closing the doors and silencing the angry voices on the other side of them.
Neither of us spoke.
I ambled towards the pile of discarded weapons, still bloodied from the battle they'd won. I selected a broadsword and dagger from amongst them, bringing them to the trough of water at the back of the armoury. I doused them in the water, cleaning the blood and grime with a sodden rag. The water was tepid, but felt refreshing nonetheless as it spilled over my trembling hands. I felt tears build up, and my head began to hurt at trying to keep them in.
I hardly noticed that I'd stopped cleaning the swords, until I felt Legolas' hand on my forearm. I looked up, my voice startlingly brittle.
"Do you fear me? The monster I've become?"
"Never."
"Your eyes betray you, elf-boy."
"Perhaps my eyes betray some emotion, princess, but trust that it is not fear," he responded, gently turning me towards him.
I looked into his eyes, my own large and watery ones searching for something other than fear.
"There is nothing you could feel towards me right now, if it is not fear," I said, "There is no other way to look upon a monster."
He sighed, placing a grounding hand behind my neck, the other snaking around my waist.
"You are no monster, Elena."
He brought his head down and kissed me, more soft and gentle than he ever had. A single tear succeeded in escaping, sliding down my cheek. Legolas brushed it away with his thumb, guiding me towards the wall and deepening the kiss, yet somehow remaining so gentle and warm.
A jolt shot through my body as the doors to the armoury were violently thrust open.
"Let's get going, the pair of you move slower than Ents," Gimli's gruff voice shouted.
I hurriedly pushed away from Legolas, stepping out from behind the shelves that I prayed had concealed him and I from view. I prayed the redness in my face and the panting of my chest weren't very detectable. Gimli quirked a brow as Legolas stepped out behind me.
"Where are the weapons you came here to fetch in the first place?" Gimli asked, throwing his hands up in frustration.
"Oh right, yes!" I briskly whirled around bumping squarely into Legolas' chest.
I muttered a quick apology, grabbing up my weapons in a flurry and sheathing them at my sides.
"If you'd not just had the shock of your life, I'd be worried for you, lass," Gimli shook his head and chuckled amicably as I strode to the doors.
"Well?" I asked, "Shall we?"
Legolas took long slow steps towards me, stopping mere inches away. He reached around me to open the door, not breaking eye contact as he did so. He pushed the door open with a smug grin.
"After you."
✶
The horses trod up the hill in sync, with Gandalf's steed, Shadowfax as their leader. They plodded upwards to the top of the grassy hill, Helm's Deep in their wake. With a parting glance, I saw that the fortress was now bathed in the friendly light of the sun. My eye caught the blackened earth where my powers had swept, and I shuddered, fixing my eye on the horizon before us.
Ahead of us, the sky brewed storm clouds that seemed almost to emanate from the east. Mordor. A harsh and terrible red light glowed like fire and pulsed like lightning on the horizon, glancing off of the heavy black clouds that hung morbidly over the sky. The storm clouds steadily moved westwards across the sky, shutting out sunlight and swallowing up the blue.
I felt Aragorn stiffen in front of me as we looked on.
"Sauron's wrath will be terrible, his retribution swift," Gandalf said darkly, as the horses came to a standstill, "The battle for Helm's Deep is over. The battle for Middle Earth is about to begin. All our hopes now lie with two little hobbits, somewhere in the wilderness."
With that, he cracked his horse's reigns, and the steed shot off. The other horses followed swiftly, on towards Isengard. Towards whatever obstacles we'd yet to face. Towards whatever loss, sorrow, battle, hardship, victory, and triumph lay before us.
The battle of Middle Earth had begun.
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