To Finally Belong

Chapter Two – Taking Sides


Círa hesitated before stepping into the Golden Hall of Meduseld. She had not seen such a beautiful place since she had left Lórien as a small elfling and she found it intimidating. Legolas smiled at her and tried to take her arm to encourage her to enter, but she jumped at his touch, growling quietly at him. Disconcerted, Legolas stepped back.

“Círa, it is best for you to stay with me, and I need to go inside,” he warned her. “We are not welcome here and there may be a confrontation.”

Reluctantly, she entered the building at Legolas’ side, looking in awe at the high, ornate ceiling. The sound of the heavy doors slamming shut behind them caused panic to rise in Círa’s throat, but Legolas softly reassured her in Elvish.

“Just be prepared for a fight,” he warned her. “I will try to protect you if you stay close to me.”

The comment elicited a half smile from the elleth who had been protecting herself for two hundred years. Legolas obviously had no inkling of her skills.

“I will protect myself,” she assured him. “I do not need you.”

They both turned their attention to the front of the hall when Gandalf’s voice began to grow loud. Círa frowned as she watched the wizard begin to yell at one of the two men in front of him. The king, an old, gnarled man, sat in the chair at the end of the hall while a sordid looking dark haired man whispered words into his ear. Círa’s attention was torn between what was happening in front of her and the men that were slipping around to circle behind her and the others. She eyed them warily; baring her teeth when one came too close. The man moved quickly past her.

Hideous laughter erupted from the king as his demeanor suddenly changed. The hairs on the back of Círa’s neck rose in warning and her attention was suddenly riveted on the old man as another voice began speaking through him; a voice that she knew well. The clouded eyes suddenly swung towards her and Saruman’s voice issued forth.

“So I see that our young elleth is among you. Are you being held against your will, Círa, or have you betrayed those who have cared for you?” A mocking laugh erupted from the king’s mouth.

As suddenly as he had had turned towards her, he swung his gaze back to Gandalf and the confrontation continued. Círa was almost oblivious of what was happening around her as she considered the wizard’s words. She had betrayed her companions, the only family she had. Legolas turned to her and shook his head when he discerned her thoughts.

“Círa, they are not your family. They killed your family and took you away from your home and those who loved you. Do you owe them anything simply because they allowed you to live? Your family is in Lothlórien and you are an elf, not an Orc or an Uruk.”

Her blue eyes regarded his, deliberating on his words and that was when chaos broke forth. The dark haired man was yelling that someone should have taken Gandalf’s staff. Gandalf threw aside his cloak, revealing white robes and for some reason that Círa did not understand, this upset Saruman highly.

As Gandalf began to try and draw the essence of the wizard from the body he inhabited, the men who had surrounded Círa and the others attacked. Aragorn and Legolas sprung into action as well as the dwarf, Gimli, though Círa noticed that some of the men of Rohan had chosen not to fight. She found that curious.

Standing still at first, as she normally did during an attack, Círa watched everything that was happening around her. When one of the men tried to sneak up behind Legolas, she finally reacted, hitting hard with her fists and forcing the man back long enough for Legolas to get involved. It seemed like the skirmish was over as quickly as it started and now Círa watched in amazement as the old king appeared to grow younger before her very eyes.

~~~~~~~~~

That evening Círa caused a stir when Éowyn tried to take the she-elf’s arm and lead her back inside the Golden Hall. Legolas quickly intervened before the King’s niece lost a limb. Pulling the woman aside, Legolas explained the situation and Éowyn nodded in understanding. She spoke to Círa slowly in the common tongue, with Legolas translating when the words were too difficult. The elleth nodded when Éowyn offered to let her bathe and actually thanked the woman when she gave Círa a gown to wear. Círa had retained the elves’ inherent desire for cleanliness so a bath was most welcome. She hated the rough clothing that she had made for herself from animal hides. One of the few memories she clung to was of the beautiful elleths of Lothlórien and the wonderful gowns in which they attired themselves. She looked forward to wearing her first gown in two hundred years. Following Éowyn willingly to the bath chamber, Círa bathed and combed her hair before putting on the beautiful blue gown. She gasped, shocked, when Éowyn led her to a water tank and allowed her to look upon her own reflection for the first time.

“Me?” she asked, still not believing it. She found it impossible to believe that the beautiful elleth staring back was her own reflection.

Éowyn nodded happily and understood that when the elleth smiled at her, it was her way of giving thanks.

“Let us go join the others for supper, now,” Éowyn said, heading that way.

When the two females entered the hall, Legolas rushed to Círa’s side at once. He seemed stunned by the transformation and could not keep his eyes off of the dazzling elleth. Finally turning back to the problem at hand, he addressed Éowyn.

“Círa is unused to our eating customs,” he warned the woman. “Maybe we could seat her between us so that we can help her with her meal.”

“Yes, we can do that,” Éowyn said, not understanding what the problem was. This was Edoras, not Minas Tirith. The kingdom was made up of horse lords and farmers, many of whom were very rough around the edges. Nothing Círa did was going to shock them, Éowyn thought. That was until the elf almost leapt across the table to grab a chunk of meat from a man. The man was oblivious as to what was happening as he was already turning to speak to someone next to him. Thanks to his speed and agility, Legolas managed to restrain the growling elleth and pull her back into her seat before she could hurt anyone. Speaking sharply to her in Elvish, he reprimanded her for her actions, causing a hurt look to spread across her face.

Legolas sighed and tried to explain proper dining room etiquette. When he encouraged her to fill her plate, she refused, shaking her head and looking away from him. He finally did it himself and suggested that she watch the others so that she could emulate them. She was stubborn at first and refused, but finally her hunger got the best of her and she gave in, trying to eat as the others did. Legolas and Éowyn were both relieved when the meal was finally over.

“Well, that was interesting,” Aragorn said to Legolas after the meal. “I thought she was going to crawl right up onto the table and go for his throat.” The elleth growled at him and turned away.

“She understood that?” Aragorn asked, surprised.

“She already had a very basic understanding of the common tongue but she is learning very quickly,” Legolas informed him. “Her Elvish has improved tenfold since we first found her.”

“Good, now she simply needs to learn some table manners,” Aragorn said, glancing warily at her.

“It will not happen overnight, Aragorn,” Legolas reminded him.

When the night came, Éowyn showed Círa to a room. Círa touched the soft blankets on the bed and was rewarded with a vivid memory of lying in a bed such as this as a child. She smiled as the memory played over her features, brightening her face. She had felt so safe then, in the bed high in the talan. She remembered the sound of the night birds singing in the trees, lulling her to sleep. The smile dropped from her face. That had been many, many years ago and since then she’d learned to simply roll into a ball on the ground to sleep, like the other Orcs did. She could not sleep in this room, with walls confining her. She lay on the bed for a moment to try it, but the small enclosed space felt like a tomb. Slipping back outside, she went to the stable and curled up on the hay, where she felt more comfortable.

When morning came, Éowyn ran to Aragorn and Legolas, upset. It appeared that the elleth had left them and had not even slept in her bed that night. Before they could even consider searching for her, Círa emerged from the barn, hay in her hair. The three stood and watched her approach.

“It is hopeless,” Aragorn insisted quietly. “She has lived like an animal for two hundred years and that is too long for us to hope to change her now.”

“Do not be so sure,” Éowyn said, encouraged that she had been able to at least get a gown on the elleth.

“There is hope yet, Aragorn,” Legolas agreed.

“Do you think she can ever have a normal life, Legolas?” Aragorn asked the elf. “Do you think she will find a mate and raise children one day? Think about it, she had an Uruk for a lover! What elf would ever be able to look past that? Could you?”

Legolas did not answer at first, but finally said, “She lived the only life she knew and we cannot blame her for that.”

“I do not hold it against her,” Aragorn assured him. “But I think others will.”

~~~~~~~~~

Círa rode on the horse with Legolas once more as they made their way to Helm’s Deep. He had explained to her why they were leaving and had watched her face as the full impact hit her. They would be hiding in the fortress to protect themselves from the same Orcs and Uruk-hai that had been her companions. Looking around, it appeared to be mostly women and children who were making this journey, with old men trudging along beside them. It was not right for the Orcs to attack the helpless, yet she knew that what Legolas had told her was true; that nobody would be spared when the attack happened. For the first time in many years, Círa vividly recalled the slaughter that had taken her mother along with many others. The Orcs had shown no mercy, except to her, and she was still not sure why she had been spared. A decision would have to be made soon. When the battle began, it was unlikely that she would be able to hide in the shadows and watch. She would probably be expected to fight, but could she raise a weapon against those who had taken her in? To be honest, the Orcs who had spared her life all those years ago were long dead, now. The Uruk-hai had only recently come on the scene and they simply tolerated her because Saruman had insisted upon it. The wizard had sensed her intelligence the first time they had met, quickly learning that she often had good ideas and exploiting that fact. No, she really owed them nothing.

Legolas’ eyes suddenly narrowed as he spotted movement in the distance and Círa saw the warg riders at the same time he did. A warning was issued and Legolas deposited Círa with the women and children, telling her to use her weapons if it became necessary. She went with the others to the fortress in the mountain and once there, they waited.

~~~~~~~~~

Legolas returned with the king and the dwarf, as well as a very small number of others, though Aragorn was not to be seen. Círa watched Éowyn as she was given the news that the ranger had fallen and the elleth frowned at the tears that cascaded down the woman’s cheeks. Crying was a sign of weakness and Círa had always associated it with the beatings that it had inevitably initiated. She had learned many, many years ago to hold in her feelings. It bothered her now to see Éowyn cry, but there was little that the elleth could do. Death was never pleasant, but one grew used to it.

When Aragorn arrived later, Círa found herself smiling along with the others. She hated the man, she reminded herself, but it made the others happy to see him alive so she smiled.

It was almost dark when the elves arrived. Círa had been with Legolas at the time the horn sounded and had seen the excitement on his face. She followed him, unsure what was happening. A chill ran down Círa’s spine as she observed the files of elves coming to aid the refugees holed up in the fortress. Something pulled at her as she watched them move forward, her eyes especially drawn to the one that wore red. He seemed…familiar to her. She watched him closely as Legolas and Aragorn went to meet him and she almost smiled when Aragorn grabbed the elf and wrapped his arms around him. What was the man thinking? The elf certainly seemed surprised, though he did smile at last. Círa continued to stay back behind Legolas as battle plans were discussed, but twice she found the red-cloaked elf’s eyes on her.

As though suddenly remembering the elleth, Legolas finally introduced her to the warrior. Haldir was his name and Círa thought that she had known it once. She watched him as he regarded her with an equal amount of curiosity.

“You resemble someone that I knew many years ago,” Haldir said, still eyeing her curiously.

“Haldir, it is possible that you knew Círa’s mother,” Legolas told him, updating him on the basics of the story, though trying to gloss over certain parts. The elf saw the truth in Círa’s eyes when Legolas spoke of the Uruk’s death.

“And what was this Uruk to you?” Haldir asked, his back stiffening.

“He was my lover,” she replied without hesitation. Haldir made no attempt to hide the look of disgust that crossed his handsome features.

“Your mother and father would be so proud of you,” he said, cruelly. “One that would share her body with the Uruk-hai does not deserve to be called elf-kind.”

“I have only shared my body with one,” Círa said, not understanding why he was upset. “Is it wrong for me to seek pleasure and comfort in another?”

“With an Uruk, yes!” Haldir said, looking down his nose at her. He turned away, dismissing her. Upset, the elleth also turned away while Legolas pulled Haldir aside.

“She was nothing but an animal when we found her, Haldir, much like the Orcs and Uruks that she called her family. In these last days, we have made much progress with her Elvish as well as teaching her how to act like an elf again. I fear that you have just impeded that progress. I was hoping that you would take her back to Lothlórien with you, if we survive this battle.”

“Take that animal with me?” he said in disgust. “She may as well be an Orc if she has lived with them for this many years. She will never be accepted in Caras Galadhon.”

“I suspect that you may be her harshest judge, Haldir,” Legolas said. “Will you not at least take her to Lady Galadriel and let her decide what to do? I cannot keep her with me and she does not want to go back to the Orcs. There is no other place for her.”

Haldir turned away for a moment before turning back to Legolas.

“No, Legolas, I will not take her with me. She cannot be trusted and I will not put others in danger. You should have killed her when you had the chance and put her out of her misery.”

They both turned at the sound of a gasp and found that the elleth had approached.

“Is that what you think? That I should be put to death because of the life I have led? Do you think that I would have wasted two hundred years living with the Orcs and Uruks if I had been given a choice? You are no better than they are!” she yelled. “At least they accepted me as I was!” The elleth turned and ran away.

Legolas looked for some sign of compassion on Haldir’s cold features but saw none.

“It may be a trick, Legolas. To have her inside the Deeping Wall during this battle is folly; she should be locked up. She may betray us all to our deaths.” With a sneer, the Marchwarden walked away to speak with his archers.

Could it be that Haldir was right? Legolas wondered. She had been quite upset about Lurtz’s death and by infiltrating the stronghold as she had done, she was in the perfect position to cause terrible damage. Legolas hoped that it was not the case, because he had grown to like the elleth, but he could not put others in danger. He would keep her by his side during the battle, rather than sending her into the caves. It might cost her her life, but it seemed as though her life was rather bleak at the moment anyway. He would give her the choice of staying by his side or being locked up during the battle.

~~~~~~~~~

Círa stood behind Legolas at the wall as they watched the massive army approach. She had never truly felt fear before, when faced with the Uruks, but it was different now. Certainly there would be some that she knew in the massive crowd and many more would know her, but at the rate that Saruman was churning out new Uruks, she realized that most would be strangers to her and they would regard her as they would any other enemy. She would be in as much danger as the others, maybe even more if they thought she was betraying them. Círa felt a moment of pain as she spotted one Uruk that had always reminded her of Lurtz. She felt anger as she recalled Haldir’s cruel words. She had done nothing wrong, yet he hated her. This is how it would be in Lothlórien and she was foolish to have believed she could go back. Maybe Legolas would let her stay with him.

When an old man’s shaking hands released an arrow prematurely, the battle began. Círa kept her knives handy, though she doubted that she would use them. She would protect Legolas if it was necessary, because he had shown her friendship, but she would not kill otherwise. When the first wave of Uruk-hai made it over the wall, she found herself torn. Her mind insisted that she did not want to choose sides, yet she had begun to see the Uruk-hai as the enemy, as they were the attackers. Within minutes, she had to use her knives to defend herself and soon after, to defend Legolas. She took no pleasure from the lives she was taking but the hatred that she was seeing in the feral faces was telling her that it was necessary. An explosion rocked Helm’s Deep and massive chunks of rock were flung everywhere. The wall had been breached.

Legolas made a quick decision and turned to Círa. It was risky, but he knew of no better choice.

“Go to Haldir!” he shouted. “I will find you later.

Legolas ran to the staircase and threw a shield onto the stairs. Sliding down, he sent off one arrow after another as his brain churned feverishly. Haldir might very well simply kill Círa, but if he didn’t, he would keep his eye on her since he didn’t trust her. It had been the only answer.

~~~~~~~~~

“I was told to go to you,” Círa told Haldir, barely repressing a sneer.

The Marchwarden looked shocked, then angry. He understood why Legolas had done this, but he did not have time to watch the elleth and fight a battle both. He considered binding her and stashing her in a corner, but it would take too long.

“Stay by me. If you do anything to make me even think that you are betraying us, I will kill you without hesitation,” he said coldly.

“I have already killed a number of Uruk-hai this night. Have I not proven my loyalty?” she asked after Haldir shouted an order to his archers.

“How do I know this is true?” he asked, suddenly hearing his name called. He turned and nodded to Aragorn before suddenly finding himself face to face with Círa’s knives. Before he had a chance to react, she stepped past him to thrust a knife into an Uruk that had been ready to hit Haldir with his sword. The Marchwarden turned swiftly and dispatched an Uruk that was swinging an axe at him, barely missing the blade as it swung down. Círa watched the Uruk that she had stabbed as he fell and she looked into the dying eyes before they glazed over. She had not known him well, but he had protected her from some of the others on more than one occasion. She had trained him to use a sword. A split-second decision had caused her to end his life rather than allowing him to kill Haldir. For the first time in two hundred years, tears began to fall down her face.

Haldir stood still for a moment, stunned at the events that had just transpired. She had saved his life; there was no doubt about that. She had also known this Uruk. He could see it in her eyes as well as those of the Uruk’s before they closed. It was the look of betrayal.

“I owe you my life,” he said, at last. “I will return you to Lothlórien and let Lady Galadriel decide what to do with you if you will accept it as a payment for my debt.”

“Yes,” she said after a moment, “then we shall be even. I do not wish for either of us to be in the other’s debt. I would rather be dead than to owe you anything.”

~To Be Continued~