Even broader did he smile then. “A rock? You should be speaking to Gimli. Rather would I be likened to a mallorn tree, for I am deep-rooted and sturdy, and I have branches which can reach out and offer you shelter.”
        Nimoë was about to reply when she was interrupted by the arrival of Gandalf, who broke in saying, “Yes, yes. This is all very sentimental and enjoyable, I am sure, but the forces of the shadow wait for no one. I am afraid that our next course of action must be decided and quickly at that.”
        Legolas looked up at Gandalf in consternation. “So quickly, Gandalf?”
        “Gandalf?” Nimoë asked quietly. “Is it true then? You have returned from realms never before seen by mortal eyes?”
        He batted away her question with a wave of his hand. “True enough it would seem, as I am standing here in front of you. And you are Nimoë, Galadriel’s apprentice. I don’t mind telling you that you have placed me in quite a quandary.”
        “I am afraid that I do not understand you.”
        Gandalf seated himself on the bed, which Nimoë had so recently vacated. Gravely he regarded her, and chose his words with care, not wishing to distress her further than she already was. “When we set forth from Rivendell, there were nine. We journeyed far and suffered much. Now, as you know, we are all scattered to the winds, like so many leaves in the autumn. Frodo and Sam are the only members of our fellowship who still truly pursue the goal set forth by Elrond. I understand that Galadriel sent you to lend your aid to that quest.
        “Our quest, however, must needs change. The ring has passed beyond our knowing, and it would be folly to pursue it. I think that now we must lend all of our aid to the fight of Rohan and Gondor against the forces of the dark. I am afraid that you are ill suited to a life of battle and war. For that reason, you cannot accompany us.”
        Legolas took breath to respond, but the aged wizard raised his hand to stop him from speaking. “Let me finish! Unfortunately, the land of Rohan is no longer safe. It is besieged by the forces of Isengard, and it would be folly to have you remain here. The citizens of Edoras who are not able to fight will be making for the fastness of Dunharrow in the hills. I think it would be best if you went with them.”
        Nimoë dropped her eyes, gathering her returning strength to form a reply to the venerable wizard. Seeing her drawing deep into herself, Legolas grasped her fingers and squeezed them gently, silently offering his support. Finally, she raised her clear grey gaze Gandalf. “I understand what you say. But there is more that you do not take into account. I have at my command the use of many elvish magics. They are not powerful battle strengths, but they can be very useful. Also, I am skilled in the healing arts. If you ride into battle, it may well be that you will need a healer. I wish to go with you. I wish to play a part in the defense against the coming darkness. Please, Gandalf, do not say me nay.”
        “How can you speak of healing when you can barely sit without aid? We must leave with the dawn.”
        “I will do what I must. I am an Elf. We do heal quickly.”
        Gandalf let out a sharp bark of laughter. “Not as quickly as all that! I have lived long among the elves. Trust me to know the extent of their recuperative powers.”
        Only then did Legolas finally speak. “If Nimoë wishes to journey with us, I beg you not to reject her. Pippin, Merry and Sam were equally ill equipped to join with us from the beginning, and they had less to offer to our cause. Still true heart may prove to be more valuable than sharp steel, as those bold souls have proven.”
        “You realize, Legolas, that you are asking me to allow her to journey into danger?” asked Gandalf.
        The elven prince nodded, his face resolute. “I know. But how long do you think that Dunharrow will stand if we should fail to repel the forces of Saruman? Not long, I wager. And I have made a promise to Nimoë.” Again his hand grasped her own tightly. “I would keep her where I can see her. She will be safer with me than any other place on this earth.”
        Gandalf sighed as if beset with a great weariness. “You have made a firm friend, I see, Nimoë, daughter of Naldor. I only hope that it will not bring either one of you to harm.” He rose then and moved to leave. “I go to tell the others that you will ride with us, Nimoë. At dawn’s light we will ride with Theoden and Eomer and the rest of the Rohirrim to meet the forces of Saruman. Rest while you can. The hour of battle is upon us!”

        When Gandalf had left the room, they sat silent for many long moments, thinking gravely on what was coming before them. Slowly, for she was still weak, Nimoë pulled herself away from Legolas’ embrace. “You are the truest friend I have ever known. I thank you for counseling Gandalf to take me with you. I will do everything in my power to make certain you do not regret it.”
        “I could not. I made a promise to you. I will remain at your side until you ask me to leave.” Watching Nimoë struggle to move herself onto the bed, he pulled her up into his arms and kissed her lightly on the brow. “Friend Nimoë, I will not desert you.” Then he gently settled her onto the bed. “Sleep now. Athelas is a powerful medicine, but it cannot do its work if you do not rest.”
        There was little need to encourage her, for her body refused to resist the lure of a peaceful slumber. Legolas closed the shutters on the windows and set himself in a chair nearby and tried to rest as well.
        Elves can choose to sleep with their eyes open when they wish, and Legolas was as still as stone, so perhaps it was not surprising that when Eomer peered through the doorway he thought that the Elf prince slept. On silent feet the horse-lord moved into the room. He regarded Nimoë from a short distance, and spoke under his breath, “Such beauty. Rarely have I seen her equal.” He reached a hand out as if to brush it against her cheek, but stopped himself. “Such beauty.” Then he turned and left, as silently as he had come.
        Legolas’ blood simmered in his body as he observed the horse-lord. Nimoë was his dear friend and this mortal had failed to protect her. It was because of him that she had suffered tortures unimaginable and had lain so recently at death’s door. How dare he contemplate her beauty?
        As Eomer left, Legolas became aware that his hand had clenched on the hilt of his dagger. Resolutely, he released his grip, but vowed that the horse- lord would never have a chance to harm Nimoë again.