Legolas ar Yende Beriorgano

Chapter 4 ~ North and South



Elsewhere is told of the tales of those times: of the Muster of Rohan, of the Battle of Pelennor Fields, of the Dúnedain marching through the Paths of the Dead and coming at last to Minas Tirith. The Ring was destroyed, many lost their lives and fell, but in the end Sauron was overthrown and Middle Earth had a new king.

Fuineth returned to Edoras in the company of her cousin. She stayed away from the general company there, staying instead with her cousin’s family near the gate and there she comforted and aided her aunt in her grief and loss. She was relieved when it became clear that somehow Eowyn had left with the eored. She was thus able to stay there easily enough to wait for her brother’s return fearing that she might never see him again, but trusting that the company he kept would keep him safe, as she had been promised.

She slept little while the battles raged and ever she found her thoughts turning to the elf. She would ask protection from Elbereth for him as well as her brother and she wondered at her doing so. They had hardly spoken doing those brief few days in Helm’s Deep, and yet, he had always remained courteous and kind with no hint of any shame or awkwardness on his part, though she did not doubt he had felt it, just as she. But it was past now, and once battle was won or lost she would head north, to begin a new life with her brother and the Dúnedain.

Túveren rode back with Eomer, now King of Rohan, in the month of May. His sister was overjoyed at their meeting, but she would not allow him to stay long given that the Lady Eowyn had returned too.

“But it is said she will marry the Lord Faramir of Gondor,” he insisted. “You do not need to leave if she is to do so also.”

“My mind is set, and I would have left sooner but that you were not here, Túveren. We agreed, did we not? We travel north. Besides, do you not wish to show me the country you have grown to know so well that is mine by birth also?” He smiled, hugged and kissed her, knowing that she was determined and would brook no argument.

They headed north and settled amongst the Dúnedain in Arnor.

So time passed, and often her brother would travel South to the King who had allowed Túveren to grow in his affections. He would bring the King news of the North, or messages from Rivendell for both Aragorn and the queen. He had remained friends with Legolas and he visited the elves in Ithilien when he could, revelling in their company, and at times would find Legolas at home though in truth they seldom met.

So it happened that some two years after the War of the Ring had ended Túveren came to visit his sister. He had spent several long months in the South, and he needed to speak to her. She was visiting Rivendell with him as he had a message for Calloneb, who was staying with Lord Elrond.

He led her out into the gardens, and murmured low and urgently in her ear. She bowed her head listening intently, her face slowly warming into a smile and then a beam. She spun round and hugged him round his neck till he felt he would choke.

“Fuineth! It warms my heart that you are pleased, but..!”

She laughed, apologising and releasing her hold on him. “Oh, Túveren, but this is wonderful! When do I meet her? When? Please tell me it will be soon. Did she travel with you?”

He shook his head. “No. She is in Minas Tirith with her brother. He is a Knight of Gondor and one of the Captains of the Guards of the Citadel.”

“So, someone has finally captured your heart, brother?”

She was mocking him, but only in jest and he knew it. He returned her grin. “Yes, it is strange that I have finally succumbed.” His eyes clouded. “She is beautiful. Wonderous. Really, I cannot describe her and do her justice.” He glanced at his sister, looking sheepish after this rare display of emotion, “You will love her, Fuineth, I know you will. She cannot wait to meet you.”

Fuineth regarded her brother warmly. “Then tell me when am I to meet her?”

“As soon as I have finished here. Will you not accompany me? Some of the Dúnedain needs must visit King Elessar also, so there will be a small company of us travelling.”

“Visit Minas Tirith? After all the stories and descriptions you have filled my head with? Oh, Túveren!” She cried clasping him round the neck once more.

He laughed. “Well there is business I must do in Minas Tirith but I have messages from here for Lord Legolas that must be dealt with first. We will journey briefly to Ithilien and then to the city so you may meet her.”

She did not show any of the emotion she felt at hearing his name spoken. She had not seen him since that day she had rode out with the King to Edoras, though, of course, she had heard of him and his exploits from her brother and those among the Dúnedain and elves she now knew in the North. She had sometimes wondered if she would ever meet him again, and how their meeting might be. Awkward, no doubt. She felt she would feel too shy to speak, the memory of that dreadful night seared into her brain like a livid scar that would not fade.

She smiled. Well, even if she didn’t meet him there she would see his realm, and that pleased her though she knew not why exactly.

So some months later Túveren brought his sister to Ithilien where she was housed amongst the elves there. They stayed but a day since her brother needed to see the King on other matters. Her brother was too busy to take her to the halls of Lord Legolas or introduce her, but she did espy Lord Legolas from afar once, and all too briefly.

Soon they were heading back West to Minas Tirith, though her brother took his time to do so and delighted in showing her Ithilien and even round Osgiliath and this added several days onto their journey.

It was more than a week later when they entered the Pelennor Fields and she gazed in wonder at the city with the tall white tower at its height. Fuineth could not quite believe she was here. After all her brother had told her of the feats of heroism and the blood spilled: so much history and so much loss in this place.

They entered the Place of the Fountain, where the newly planted white tree stood, and grooms rushed forward to take their horses from them as they dismounted. One of the Citadel Guards came to greet them, “My lady,” he bowed towards Fuineth, “one of the ladies-in-waiting will show you to your chambers.”

Her brother was well known at the court and turned to her grinning. “I will go and see the King now and let him know of our arrival. I will come to your chambers as soon as I am done.” A young woman in a sumptuous dress came out to greet her with servants to collect her bags as her brother made his way past the guards and into the White Tower.

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After she had been shown her chambers, and had refreshed herself and changed, there was a light knock on her door. Her brother entered saying he had been gently reprimanded for not bringing her straight away to Minas Tirith and for going to Ithilien first.

She laughed, “And what excuse did you give them, for indeed they were right to scold you, Túveren. Did I not say to you even before we left Rivendell?”

“I did not wish to be overbold, dear sister, nor presume. Better I let them invite you than we just turn up unannounced at their door.”

“And you said this to them?”

“Well not in those words, exactly, but the Queen entirely understood and I could see King Elessar smiling at me from behind his hand, so I think we are safe enough.” He grinned. “If you are ready, the King would like you to come down.” Her eyes widened slightly but she nodded. “Fuineth, do not feel modest. He is the same Aragorn you were giving orders to amongst the injured of Helm’s Deep.”

“Well yes, brother, but he wasn’t our king then and things are necessarily different now. Besides you have got to know him over these last few years, whereas I have not seen him since I left you both at Helm’s Deep...”

Her voice trailed off, her face suddenly sad at the memory. “Oh, Fuineth. I came back, did I not?” His voice was warm, soft, “And there were many who didn’t, Fuineth, many. King Theoden himself for one.”

She nodded, and felt a tear trickle down her face.

“There now, don’t cry. You can’t come before the King of Gondor and Arnor with red eyes.” She laughed. “That’s better.”

He was bent down in front of her looking up at her face, which was framed by her dark tresses. She smiled, touched his face and then stood to follow him to the throne room.

As they neared the chamber she could hear voices inside, even laughter. That put her at her ease somewhat. Then Túveren, placing his hand on her arm indicated for her to wait. “I will see if it is convenient and then come and get you,” and she nodded. There were some seats in the corridor just outside the door and she perched nervously on one to wait.

Just after her brother closed the door behind him it opened once more and a tall figure came out, still laughing to himself. He was dressed in fine silks and brocade of silver and blue. As he closed the door, he turned to leave but saw Fuineth sitting there beside the door. He froze.

“My lady Fuineth?”

A gentle voice broke her from her reverie and she looked up into a pair of pale green-grey eyes. He was holding out his hand for hers, and not able to speak at first she proffered her hand. As he kissed it gently and bowed his head ever so slightly, she collected herself enough to be able to murmur, “Mae govannen, hîr nín.”

He smiled. “Gíl síla erin lû e-govaded vín, hiril nín.”

She had feared and hoped for this moment, and now it was upon her it was utterly unlike what she had expected. There was no awkwardness, no memory of what had passed between them all those years ago. His eyes were warm and his gaze gentle. He seemed genuinely pleased to see her. She felt herself flushing slightly though she did not know why.

“It has been a while, my lady, since last we met, in darker days when we knew not what lay before us. Now, the Valar be praised, we can rest and be happy once more.”

She smiled, “Indeed.”

There was a brief silence, though not an awkward one.

“You are staying here in Minas Tirith?” he asked.

“Yes my brother is here on business of the Dúnedain, and a personal matter also...” She did not know if he knew of her brother’s bethrothal, but felt it was not her place to tell him if he did not. “We have just come from Ithilien,” she ventured to say.

He raised an eyebrow. “Indeed, so I heard. And your brother did not tell me he would be bringing you with him nor did you call upon me. That was remiss.”

She looked into his eyes, suddenly concerned she had offended him, but saw them glitter and realised he was laughing softly. “Well, my lord, I hardly know you well enough. It would have been presumptuous. Please forgive me.”

He laughed once more, “Have no fear, my lady. It is your brother I should reprimand: he should have told me.”

She blushed, but felt bold enough to return, “Besides we were there but a day all told, though I saw you, my lord, as I was shown around your realm, even if you did not see me.”

Now it was his turn to look at her with surprise in his eyes, though smiling still. “Indeed?” was all he said.

The moment was broken by her brother’s face appearing at the door, “Fuineth?” Then he saw Legolas. “Mae govannen, my lord.”

Legolas greeted him warmly and Fuineth was intrigued to see them so familiar with each other.

“Forgive me, my lord, but the King and Queen wish to see my sister.”

Legolas nodded, “But of course, Túveren. I will not delay you both. Though,” he paused, his eyes still shining with silent laughter, “You should have told me you had brought the Lady Fuineth with you to Ithilien.”

Túveren flushed, “My apologies, my lord. I was on an urgent matter of business nor intended to stay long, I did not think..”

Legolas held up his hand, “I jest with you, Túveren. I quite understand your reasoning, besides it may not have been fitting for you to have been received as the guests of Ithilien before being the guests of King Elessar.”

He turned to her now, the eyes still sparkling and shining with amusement and warmth. “It is good to see you once more, my lady. I trust we shall meet again soon. Navaer, hiril nín,” he said as he bowed.

She smiled and thanked him and followed her brother into the throne room.

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She did not see Legolas again for some days, and the next time they met would be in very different circumstances.

He had left to meet with the Lord Faramir in Osgiliath, since he had a meeting there with various nobles of Ithilien anyway. The King and Queen were also to join Lord Faramir and his wife there.

Fuineth tried to politely decline the invitation for her to travel with them, even at the risk of upsetting the King and Queen. She had no desire to come anywhere near the Lady Eowyn. Her anger still burned bright within her.

Something in her tone when she had excused herself, saying she had no wish to impose, nor did she feel it would be right, as the former lady-in-waiting to the Lady of Rohan, to now accompany the King and Queen as her guest, made Arwen look at her more closely but for no more than a second. But it was of no use. She could not refuse their gracious offer. Her brother needed to stay in Minas Tirith and then return to Ithilien once more before he could meet her in Osgiliath so she would travel there without him. Fuineth’s distress was extreme, but she forced herself to not let it show.

Thankfully there were many other guests in Osgiliath. The landowners of the surrounding provinces as well as various lords of Ithilien were there also, so banquets were filled with numerous peoples and she was able to avoid the Lady Eowyn easily enough. She watched her, though. Sitting demurely, cold, impassive, sometimes laughing at some whispered nothing her husband told her in her ear.

Only once did they meet face to face and that was on her arrival. Fuineth had little option but to follow the Queen as she was greeted formally by the Lord Faramir and Lady Eowyn. She curtsied before a “my lady” was the murmured greeting on her lips, but when she looked up she could see the hatred and venom clear in Eowyn’s glance. She had to stop herself from gasping out loud.

The Queen and Lord Faramir were in conversation and had not noticed, and no sooner had the expression flashed across Lady Eowyn’s eyes than it was gone. Her voice remained cool and distant as she inclined her head, “Lady Fuineth. You are welcome.” Though the tone in her voice was far from warm or cordial.

Once or twice Legolas had joined the banquets, though he too seemed to relish it more when there was company to lose himself in. She noted that, while he seemed to be on good terms with Lord Faramir, he barely spoke to the Lady Eowyn unless it would have been churlish of him not to, indeed, like Fuineth, he did everything he could to avoid Eowyn.

The first time she had seen him, he had not seen her. His back was to her and he was in deep discussion with Aragorn as well as one of the Dúnadain and two Ithilien elvish nobles. She had waited, not wishing to intrude, but as he had turned to find a refill for his cup, she had stepped forward, shyly, wondering if this was the right thing to do.

“My lord Legolas, it is a pleasure to see you once again.”

He stopped, clearly surprised to see her there. “The pleasure is mine, dear lady. I had not expected to see you here nor to see you again so soon. I am glad,” and he bowed.

“You are too kind, my lord. I fear I did not have time when last we met to thank you.”

He seemed a little confused by this and merely repeated, “Thank me, my lady?”

There was a pause. She lowered her eyes as she said, softly, “My brother told me what happened in the Pelennor Fields. His sword was broken, an Uruk about to strike him, when an arrow pierced its neck?” She looked up at him now, kindly and thankful. He smiled in return as she continued, “I thank you for keeping the promise you made to me at Helm’s Deep. You saved his life. Indeed you have now saved his life twice. I am doubly in your debt, my lord.”

“I would do no less again where it asked of me, my lady. Let me assure you of that. I love your brother dearly and consider him a true friend. He proved his worth at Helm’s Deep, and indeed at the Fords of Isen also so I hear, even before I saw his feats with the Grey Company. You should be proud of him.”

“I am,” she said softly.

“And rightly so, my lady. Not only is he my friend..” he paused, and she looked up to finding him looking at her intently with a deep kindness in his green eyes, “...he is also the brother of my friend.”

She smiled, unable to find an adequate response to this touching gesture, and felt her eyes wet suddenly.

“My lord..” she began, and he could see she was both pleased and moved, but they were interrupted. The Lord Faramir needed him urgently on some matter. He excused himself, saying he would try to return to finish their conversation, but in the event he was unable to.

She watched him, this elegant, noble elf as he dealt with first one set of questioners, then another. Once she caught him looking at her, and when he knew he had caught her eye, he rolled his eyes in an exaggerated fashion towards the nobles he was having to discuss matters of state with. She stifled a giggle and looked away.

That had been the first real moment of friendship between them. He clearly didn’t enjoy being at these things, in the presence of that woman anymore than she did, but in that brief moment they had forgot her, forgotten how it was they even knew each other, and simply enjoyed each others’ company.

‘The brother of my friend.’ She mulled it over in her mind. She felt honoured and a little humbled by such a statement. She did not feel she had done anything, truly, to merit it. She felt she had possibly embarrassed him more than helped him that fateful night, but no matter. It was a kind thing for him to say. Kind, and charming.

She smiled. Oh, he was certainly charming.

Legolas for his part had been amazed and delighted to see her once again both in Minas Tirith and then in Osgiliath. He too had wondered how things had fared for her since last they had seen each other, and he had been relieved to some extent when he had learnt after the Battle of Pelennor that the Lady Eowyn was not at Edoras nor had stayed there long once the spearmuster of Rohan had assembled. He had formed a fond attachment for Túveren, not simply for her sake though that had played its part, but he was also a warrior of both courage and skill and a good and noble man. Legolas had been pleased and proud to fight alongside him.

‘Túveren should have told me’, he thought, as he watched her from the other side of the room, oblivious to his gaze. She looked well, though it was clear that she, like he, felt somewhat constrained by being here as the guest of Lady Eowyn. He could guess she had been invited by the King and Queen, in all innocence, to come with them while her brother went about his business. He hoped he might have an opportunity to speak to her more privately while she was here now that there was some distance between those events and the present. He would like to get to know her a little better and perhaps earn the compassion and friendship she had shown him that night.


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Fuineth had been at Osgiliath for a week when it happened.

She herself did not witness the incident (none but Faramir, and then Aragorn and Arwen did at the time) but she heard of it later: the argument, the vicious taunts that had escalated between them till the Lord of Ithilien and the Lady of Osgiliath and Rohan had actually drawn swords - he to defend himself and she in her rage and humiliation determined to hurt him in some way. But her skill was not what it was, and Legolas had humilated her further, cut her several times, and it was only when she was forcibly held back that it stopped. Suddenly, it was understood: Faramir realised the nature of their past, though did not fully understand, and then Aragorn guessed the rest.

Later, in the guest chambers of the King and Queen, the entire story was told in full: Legolas now silently weeping, now hugging himself in pain, at the memory as he sat on the floor, knees hunched, head bowed.

The basic facts had come out then and there in the corridor earlier, but his friend was now gently asking, wanting to get the details absolutely clear in his head. Arwen was beside herself in distress and fury and could not speak at all.

“There is one thing I do not understand,” continued Aragorn, “How did it stop? Did the effects abate? Did she relent? Were you able to overcome her at last?”

There was silence from the figure hunched on the floor.

Aragorn said quietly, “You should know the Lady Eowyn has implicated another, Legolas. She says that someone else did this to you.”

Legolas’s head shot up, his eyes blazing fierce with rage. “No!” he roared. “She lies! And I will not have her defamed so..!” He stopped, turning his head away from them, and bringing one fist up to his brow, determined he was not going to break down into tears once more.

Arwen broke the silence, “Who, Legolas? Who do you not wish to see defamed?”

Legolas gave a groan, and his head fell forward onto his knees. “Please,” he moaned, “You do not need to know. It is not important.”

Aragorn spoke now. “We must, if we are to counter the Lady Eowyn’s claims, at least in the Lord Faramir’s eyes. He, as our good friend, deserves the truth, does he not? At least since this much is now known. It has gone too far, Legolas, it must be told.”

Legolas nodded, not lifting his head from his knees. He understood. He sighed deeply, took a breath and then raised his head without looking at either of them and said in a flat, quiet voice, “Someone came. They had realised what was happening and came... to stop her. That was all. They gave me bandages and water for my wounds.. they stayed with me so that no-one could disturb me again that night. And at dawn they left.” He was weeping quietly now. “They showed me great tenderness and affection, and I can never repay them. I would not have her defamed. She showed me much compassion... though it shamed me to have her there.” Once again his head fell onto his knees, as his silent tears fell.

There was another silence. At last Aragorn spoke. “It was Fuineth, Túveren’s sister. That is why she was leaving Edoras the day we rode to Helm’s Deep, was it not?”

Legolas nodded once more. “Yes.”

He still did not raise his head.

Arwen looked at her husband, her eyes filled with tears. Aragorn, understanding her look, stood up and went to the door and left the room. Arwen started to speak, but a hand motioned her silent from beneath the golden hair about Legolas’s knees.

Within minutes Aragorn had returned and nodded to his wife.

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There was a knock at her door.

“My lady?”

It was an unfamiliar voice.

“Yes?”

“The King and Queen wish to discuss something with you as a matter of urgency, could you come with me to their chambers?”

Fuineth came to the door, and upon opening it found one of Faramir’s guards standing in front of it with a vaguely apologetic look on his face.

“I am sorry to disturb you, my lady. But I was sent as a matter of urgency...”

She nodded and, closing her door behind her, followed the guard through the corridors to the other wing where she was motioned towards a door. The guard would not come nearer to it, though.

She hesitated for a moment, looking towards the guard once more as if for confirmation, and at his nod, she knocked. There was a “Come in,” and she turned the handle and entered the room.



Mae govannen = well met

Hîr nín = my lord

Gíl síla erin lû e-govaded vín = a star shines upon our meeting

Hiril nín = my lady

Navaer = farewell