Goodbye

Frances watched Gimli and Aragorn's back, two sturdy friends hell bent on finding Merry and Pippin. Good, if anyone could do it, it was them.

Legolas, however, had yet to move. Strider and Gimli started running anew, leaving him a few peaceful moments before he decided to catch up. Frances watched them as their feet carried them away. She wished she could follow; after this little rest, it felt like she could even endure the strain. But she knew the falsehood of such hopes. The adrenalin would sustain her for a few minutes at best before she crumbled. No, better go now. It would give them the best chances to save the hobbits from a horrible death.

As Frances readied herself to get to a lower ground, she gave one last glance to the prince of Greenwood. She knew his gaze was on her. Each move she made, his eyes followed. He had yet to say a word. Sighing and in great need of rest, the young lady finally came to him and bowed:

— "My lord, should we not meet again I wish to tell you it had been an honour to fight alongside you."

For a second she thought that he would not answer, and then his deep eyes plunged into hers. There was so much regret in them that Frances had to lower her gaze, feeling even more guilty for giving up. But there was no energy left in her, there was nothing more she could do, save for a miracle. Still, he said nothing, and she then whispered while watching his elven boots:

— "Goodbye, Legolas, you are indeed a mighty prince and I wish you well in those troubled times."

As she turned away, afraid that he might be angry with her, the prince caught her wrist in a flawless move. She shuddered at the sudden contact, his warm hand heating up the skin underneath her sleeve's tunic.

— "Alas," he told her, "doomed is the day when I must abandon my friends and this action I will never forgive myself. Since it must be done for me to complete my oath, I promise that never again shall this happen."

Frances gasped, suddenly aware that the warrior she admired so much was confiding his distress to her, and filling her with the warmth of his feelings. The blow felt fantastic and terrific at the same time, but he did not linger to allow her to break into tears.

— "May you fare well my lady, for I wish you joy. Should the darkness leave this world again, I would be honored to be its witness."

His lips were on her hand at once, and Frances stood, paralysed. He lingered but a few moments that seemed like an eternity. And then, as quick as the wind, the elf was flying away. With him left her courage and the warmth of his presence, and Frances suddenly felt very lonely in this world that was not hers.

Tears welled up, soaking her already dampened face. Slowly, the young lady summoned was left of her energy and started walking. After what seemed like hours, she found a few trees and hid behind them. As soon as her eyes closed she fell deep into slumber, exhausted. The elf's light was gone. And even if it was daytime, Frances' slept in the darkness for the first time since the beginning of their journey.

Meanwhile, the unlikely team of a dwarf, an elf and a man ran desperately, feeling deeply about the shortening of their company once more, but still hoping to gain back the hobbits that had been taken from them so brutally. Gimli was struggling to keep up with the ranger and the elf, but his legendary stubbornness would not allow him to give up and so he went on. His friend, the elf, bore a constant frown on his usually flawless face, and not a word had been uttered from him since they had left the lass behind.

Brooding, Legolas could not accept the decision that had been made. But no matter how hard he thought about it, no other option would come to his mind. This fact angered him to a point he wasn't aware he could reach; he that was usually so levelled and cheerful realised how frightening the idea of seeing Frances come to harm was. His sombre mood did not go unnoticed by his friends, and he was well aware that it was wrong to take his anger on Aragorn for agreeing. After so many years of friendship never had he doubted any of his decisions as the captain of the Dunedain. Yet abandoning one of their own to retrieve two others was a bittersweet hope. However, they all knew that Frances was not in immediate danger. What a dilemma !

An odd sensation stirred in his stomach; betrayal. She had refused his help to carry her, and it felt like a rebuke. Legolas had always been a solitary elfling, but that was not out of the norm in the elven words given the little amount of kids that were born at the same time. His belonging to the only royal family left in middle earth since the last alliance had not helped either. For a long time, the Prince had been surrounded by the people of Greenwood that were not of his choosing, usually bounding with fellow warriors while defending his home. Never had he really developed a friendship with an elleth without being courted, and the relationship with Frances was extremely refreshing. Her absence, a dark cloud over his head.

A quick peek at Aragorn told the elf he wasn't the only one to worry. Aragorn prayed the Valar for her safety, and even if he knew there had been no other option he could not help but regret it. Abandoning one of them to rescue the hobbits was the best course of action given the circumstances, and still, even if she had insisted and accepted it, there was nothing that could wash the guilt away. Ever since Gandalf had fallen and the rest of the company turned to him for guidance, Aragorn was at loss.

Refusing to go to Minas Tirith was one of the things he still considered with difficulty, and he also took the blame for Boromir's death and the attack of Amon Hen. Leaving Frances had been a harsh blow to the little confidence that was left, and Legolas's clear disapproval gave him the impression that he truly was alone now. The difficult path that lay before him, doubled by an impossible destiny burdened his shoulder heavily. How could one man alone decide of the fate of humans in this war? Would his companions support him next time a difficult decision had to be taken?

Finally, the elf came near him, and he could tell by the look on his face that he had not come to terms with their previous action.

— "We should not have left her," he said suddenly.

His words held some relief for Aragorn; they were the first ones he had pronounced in hours. But the battle was not won by far. He answered between two gasps of air.

— "Yet, it was necessary."

— "Necessary for what? We don't even know if this sacrifice will be worth it!"

The idea that all of it could be in vain, that the three hunters could fail and reach the hobbits too late to save them was haunting the ranger, and Legolas's own insecurity about it had him exploding.

— "You could have stayed if you wished," eventually cried Aragorn, stopping dead in his tracks. "I did not order anything, you are my friend and free to do as you please! I, on the other hand, have a duty to this company. I will do anything in my power to see the hobbits safe, and she agreed to that."

Eyes wide, the elf froze. It was true, and he was behaving like a spoilt elfling. A meaty hand landed on his arm; Gimli was now contemplating the raging battle that stormed into his elvish friend's mind. If he understood their dilemma, the dwarf sometimes wished they would see better how capable Frances was. Dwarves respected their women; none of them were weak. Gimli's faith in the young woman abilities was strong.

— "Come on lads", he said. "She decided. The lass had her head clear so let's not linger any longer."

— "Gimli is right" nodded Aragorn, relieved by the dwarf's wise words, "we must go on and trust her to find a way to Edoras."

— "Alas" cried Legolas, "I see the reason in your words, I have been angered to leave another of us behind but you are right, she refused all my proposals to give us better chances to find Merry and Pippin."

— "Yes" approved Estel, his heart lighter, "let's hunt some orc and make them regret their foul actions !"

— "Yeah!", roared Gimli, his face still red from the running as he took off again

Amused, Legolas sprang to catch up with the dwarf. The two friends shared a long look, and then ran side by side, features set as they progressed in the land of Rohan. Gimli's boots flattened the grass under his boots. Legolas progressed gracefully aside him, his long strides light as feathers. Behind them was Aragorn, a smile on his lips at seeing the disparate pair. It was the weirdest friendship he had ever witnessed, the strongest too.