All his fault. Everything that had happened to everyone he cared about was all his fault.
His wife, his beloved and beautiful wife was fighting for her life because she fell in love with him, a mortal and gave up everything she was, everything she knew, to be with him in the world of men. Everyone she cared about, save a precious few, had sailed to the west, the Undying Lands. She would never follow them. Never rejoin them, and thusly had also hurt his foster father who did everything to raise him when all had shunned him.
His closest friend and companion, one of the last of a noble and magical race had lost his dear father and was now marching defenseless into a great and mysterious enemy. All the advantage he had being an Elf was stripped of him and now he had a people to lead. A throne he never wished for or intended to have now thrust into his reluctant hands.
All of this would never have happened if only he had been able to stop it. It all traced back to him, though his dearest ones would never allow him to accept responsibility. They would say that it was their own choices, which he brought them to where they are now and not the power of a mortal. All of this did not matter now, all of this was inconsequential to him.
Aragorn struggled for an answer, a way to help both of them. Trying to raise an army to help Mirkwood was impossible. The army of Gondor was not nearly strong enough to give any aid to the Elves, they were barely able to rebuild their own lands at this point, let alone go off and fight once more. There had to be a way, a way to save both of them.
'Damn it!' he thought to himself. 'Why can I not solve this puzzle? Am I not smart enough, clever or wise enough? I should be able to figure this out and help my love and my comrade both.'
Yet, for all this chastising and all his debating no solution came to him. The solution remained a mysterious lady who would not surrender her secrets to him now.
Aragorn stared at the willow tree in his garden and thought of the words Legolas had left him with. Perhaps silence was better than shouting; perhaps if he did not pursue the problem so diligently the way out would come quietly to him.
Arwen stood shakily from the bed she had been trapped in for so long. Finally, she was feeling slightly better and could walk the short distance to take in the beautiful view outside her window. The air and the light had changed when she was ill and she wished to return to the comforts outside her confined room.
Looking out from the window, she had seen the group of elves, including Legolas, leave the gates and head towards Eryn Lasgalen. She tried to figure it all out in her head. The meaning of his departure, yet she came up blank. What could possible lure him away at this time, this situation?
Gandalf stood in the doorway, peering at Arwen in the darkened room.
No words, only a heavy silence, filled the air.
"What would you have us do? We've just fought one war, how can we fight another? I daresay you tread upon uncertain ground, Elessar, you are but a newcomer to this land. You have done great things for us and that is why we follow you, but we cannot follow you on this."
The advisors, for once since Aragorn had first come to their meetings, spoke in one voice. He had broken down, he had asked for their help in leading a charge into Eryn Lasgalen.
"We can barely hold our lands!"
"You are our king, would you leave us now?"
"The Elves are strong warriors and if they cannot hold this shadow back what makes you think we can?"
The King could not speak one word for all their shouts overlapped and the meaning behind them stung Aragorn's heart.
Finally, these words of despair wore him down and he retreated to the guest room the King was currently using as a bedroom.
The journey gave Legolas time to think over how he was going to help his people. He had always thought his father would always lead, always be there. The Prince never thought he would be king, why would he, elves are immortal.
His thoughts also wondered to the fate of his homeland. The ones bearing the grim news of his father's death did not have too much detail about the current situation in Eryn Lasgalen. Legolas did not know if he was riding into a group of Orcs or a burning forest.
He would not allow these thoughts to overwhelm him. He would find out these answers soon enough and for now all that mattered to him was being there with his people. Keeping watch for anything suspicious, Legolas began feeling that nagging tiredness that had plagued him even since being put under this spell. Regret never entered his mind, but the timing of this infliction was poor and his hope rested with the thought that Arwen would be soon recovered and he would be able to lead with full confidence.
As of now, he had not told anyone about his current condition. They did not need him to worry about and Legolas also feared being thought of as weak and unworthy of his new title, his father's title. Glancing down to his waist, he saw his father's strong sword at his side. Memories came back of his father standing tall with that sword. The first time Legolas had ever seen the powerful weapon was when Thranduil unleashed it to slay monsters, which Legolas was convinced, were hiding under his bed.
Since that night, the King of the Elves of Northern Mirkwood had used that sword to rally his troops and enforce his power and position. Now, all of that rested with his son and that son was feeling the great weight pressing down on him so strongly that his shoulders sagged under the weight of it all.
Suddenly, he was brought out of his musing my noises from the brush beyond the path they were traveling. All of them halted, unsure of what to make of this noise. It was close and that in of itself shocked the elves, for nothing could get this close without one of them becoming aware.
Another snap of a twig and an elven voice rang out, "Orcs!"
"They must have been hiding in this brush before we were in range." Legolas observed, drawing his bow in order to get a clear shot. The others followed suit.
They waited for another noise to give away their enemies position.
The wind blew through the tall grasses.
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