Chapter 26: Words Unspoken

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Estelwen felt Gríma's eyes on her as they rode past each other in opposite directions. She did not know who he was, but she could feel hatred radiating off him. But it did not feel directed towards her. His hatred was targeting two directions: Meduseld and Isengard.

If Estelwen did not feel so drained, she would have wanted to pry into it. The way I feel others, their emotions, is changing. Before, it was fleeting thoughts through a glance at someone's eye, a nervous twitch, or a frown. Now, complex emotions flowed out of people easily. Estelwen could feel it as physically as water. Water flows into rivers. If I cannot learn to work through this, to sort through these thoughts, to control this all somehow if it can be controlled, then I will drown.

She passed through the entrance of Meduseld. Aragorn was the first familiar face that rushed towards her. "Estelwen!"

Estelwen slid of her horse, her boots landing with a thud onto the dirt. For a moment, she met Aragorn's eyes, which were accusing and relieved at once. Aragorn sighed, and Estelwen leaned her head forward against his shoulder.

Aragorn held her. "What do you think you were doing?"

Estelwen lifted her head. "The people of Rohan called, and I chose to answer them. An orc pack was ravaging a small village. Éomer and his men arrived soon after I did, eliminating the rest of the orc pack."

Aragorn stared at her incredulously.

"Where did you get this horse?"

Legolas' voice appeared from behind Estelwen. She turned around. He was gently stroking Rocelin's nose, but he did not smile.

"From Éomer," she said.

Without so much as looking in her direction, Legolas led Rocelin to the stables.

Aragorn noted Estelwen's confused expression. "Did you really expect him not to be upset?"

She turned to him sharply. "What else should I have done? I cannot ignore the cry of these people."

"You left without telling any of us." He glanced towards the stables. "Rarely have I seen an elf break their countenance, their discipline. They have high standards for themselves. Legolas clings to them more than he does his bow. When you left, he nearly lost it all, Estelwen. If anything happened to you, it would have inflicted a wound far deeper than any I have seen."

Estelwen stood silently. She never considered how worried they would be, how worried Legolas would be. While she was pulled to help the village, she had not thought about anything else, as if her whole mind and body were being focused on one task. I did what I had to. The flow of a stream goes to where it is needed.

Aragorn turned away.

"Where are you going?"

"King Théoden's son perished in a recent orc raid. The village is in mourning now."

Estelwen felt a growing pain in her chest. No matter what choices she made, people would still die and suffer. Is there no end?

At the end of the burial, Gandalf stood talking with Théoden near the grave. Estelwen watched them from a distance. She was not close enough to hear, but was close enough to see the king weeping. He will never hear his son's voice again.

Legolas stood a little ways behind her. She shifted in place, and he knew she noticed his presence. As she continued to watch the king, Legolas felt his frustration growing. Why did she not trust us? Does she even realize the impact she made upon us when she left without notice? And yet, I thought I had proven my trust in her. Have I not told her things that have troubled my soul? Did I ever ignore her when I saw she needed help?

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