Chapter Twenty-One: Darkness Before Dawn
Aragorn
and Theoden looked on with baffled, but pleased, expressions. Aragorn had
suspected something of Legolas’ feelings, but the passionate intensity
with which he expressed them came as a surprise to him. Feeling suddenly
like an intruder, he averted his eyes.
Eomer’s
breathing had stopped when he first saw Nimoë enter the room, and
he had been poised to go to her side, when Legolas moved. Something in
the set of the Elf’s shoulders had told him that assistance was neither
needed nor wanted. And so Eomer stood back and felt the plunge of the dagger
into the very depths of his soul when Nimoë inadvertently revealed
her love to the Elf prince.
Her
fingers clutched Legolas’ shoulders with a desperate intensity, and the
look of pure happiness brushed onto the contours of her expressive face
proved to Eomer beyond a doubt that here was the true love of her heart.
The crushing finality of that realization was too much for him to bear,
and he turned and left the room as quickly as his legs would carry him,
praying that none would see the agony of loss which pierced him through.
Pulling
his lips softly away from Nimoë’s, his gaze never leaving hers, Legolas
smiled gently down at her, and regret filled him as he spoke. “Would that
there was time to tell you fully of my love. Sadly, there is precious little
time for anything. The new day will dawn in a little over an hour, and
at that time I will ride forth to come against Saruman.” He brushed his
lips against her brow, caressingly, as if she were more precious than mithril,
for indeed to him she was, and ran his finger gently across her lips, which
trembled at his touch.
“Must
you truly leave me? I am so very afraid for you.”
His
eyelids dropped, and his shoulders slumped as if he shouldered too heavy
a burden. “I must do this thing. Even should it mean my death.” He raised
his piercing blue eyes to meet hers. “I must do it for you.”
Nimoë
leapt to her feet in consternation, then clenched her hand against the
wall so that she could remain standing. “What do you mean you must do it
for me? Do you not understand that if I lose you I have nothing left in
this world? How am I supposed to go on when there is no sunlight to greet
me?”
Legolas
remained kneeling at her feet, where he took the hand which did not support
her weight, and pressed his lips to the back of it. “You must find a way.
When we ride out, I want you to hide yourself. Find some secret corner
where none can hunt you down. If we fail, Saruman will send his armies
to eliminate everyone within the Hornburg. Do not let yourself be taken.
Once he is satisfied that all have been killed, he will relax his vigilance.
Then is the time to make your escape. Run as fast as you can, and do not
look back. Take word to Galadriel in the Golden Wood, then make for the
Grey Havens. There you will be safe. Only then will you truly be free.”
His eyes bored into her as he begged, “Promise me!”
She
shook her head in denial. “Nay, Legolas. I am free only when I am with
you. You will not command me in this. I ride with you.”
Aragorn’s
voice broke in upon their interlude. “She is right, friend,” he spoke and
laid a hand on Legolas’ shoulder. “There is no way that you will convince
her to stay behind. Even if you force a promise from her, she will follow.”
A wry grin crossed his face. “Trust me when I say this. I know something
of the heart of an Elf maiden in love.”
Nimoë
then raised Legolas up, and he stood tall in front of her. “He speaks the
truth, my heart. And you promised me that you would not leave my side.
This time I will hold you to your word.”
As
she spoke, her strength finally failed her, and she swayed alarmingly.
Legolas’ quick arms reached out and gathered her to his chest, fully supporting
her slight weight. Aragorn spoke one last time, “Stay with her. Let her
rest. Enough planning has been done. All that is left is to wait for morning.
Take her to a safer place and watch over her.” He gripped his friend’s
arm and spoke most solemnly. “Cherish this time, my friend. It may be all
that you will have.”
Legolas
watched his friend leave, then finally bowed to the inevitability of the
coming day. “Nimoë, can you walk?” he whispered into her hair.
The
smile she bestowed upon him held all the radiance of the sun glinting off
of gentle waves as she replied, “My soul is so joyous I feel that I could
fly.” Her face fell then as she continued, “I am afraid, however, that
my body is failing me. I do not even know that I can stand alone.”
He
swept her up into his arms then, and she melted into the quiet strength
which held her supported. “There is no need. Rest safe in my arms, sweet
lady. In this hour before the morning comes, no power on this earth could
harm you, and you need not trouble with the weight of the world.”
He
stepped carefully through the crowded hallway, and the men moved to make
as clear a path as they could. Several recognized the Elf maid who had
worked so tirelessly to save their comrades, and they rejoiced to see her
taken under the Elf prince’s protective wing.
Hama,
Theoden’s gate-warden, approached them from the milling crowd. “Prince
Legolas, I know of a place away from the confusion where you could bring
the Lady Nimoë for a few minutes of peace.”
“Lead
on.”
Hama
led them up a flight of stairs, and then pushed open a door at the top.
It revealed a small chamber, unlit, and bare of furnishings. “I will guard
the door. The lady needs rest, and I would not have her disturbed.”
Gently
Legolas set Nimoë’s feet to the floor and, while he kept his steadying
hand at the small of her back, he faced Hama. “Thank you. You are a true
friend.”
Hama
nodded, and retreated.
Nimoë
sank to the bare stone floor, unable to stand a moment longer, and Legolas
settled himself next to her. The cold of the stones immediately began to
sink into his skin, and he lifted Nimoë up onto his extended legs.
“This floor is not fit for you to sit upon.” Softly he reached out his
hand and leaned her head against his shoulder, and the feel of her body
close against his was like a smoldering flame.
Nimoë
began to speak, but he hushed her with a finger laid across her lips. “Do
not speak. Our hearts know what we feel. Let me give you comfort until
the sun rises, and I will feel easier knowing that we will have spent what
may be our last hour wrapped close in each other’s arms.”
Great
sorrow mingled with the happiness which surged through Nimoë. She
lifted her lips to Legolas’ and the feeling when he claimed her mouth was
like the pull of the moon upon the sea, irresistible and timeless. The
kiss lasted only moments, but it felt like an eternity.
When
finally their lips parted, they clung together in the darkness of the chamber,
imprinting every scent, every texture, every breath of their beloved onto
their hearts. That would have to be enough to sustain them through the
uncertainty and dread which crept through them at the thought of the sun’s
inevitable dawning. Never before had an Elf thought to fear the light of
day, but fear it they did, and took their only solace in each other’s silent,
steadfast presence.