Master Of Death

Chapter 13

Legolas POV

I feel a surge of anxiousness, and want to hurry with our business in Edoras. I want to be able to meet up with Harry sooner. However, I know that this cannot be done, and am left staring at the guard blocking our path to King Theoden. I slip a hand into my tattered clothes to slide my dagger out, and then I handed it over. Hama takes it carefully with a grateful smile as I reluctantly hand over my bow and quiver also, with a barely there frown present throughout the exchange. While I am certain in my own abilities without them, it is still strange to hand them over.

"Keep them unharmed, for they are gifts to me from the Lady of Lothlorien."

There's a smile threatening to escape as Gimli glared up at the Doorwarden, his axe held firmly as though ready to attack. Gandalf looks unfazed by the request, though Aragorn also wears a deep frown which looked almost as if it was etched into his mouth.

"It is not my will to allow Anduril into the hands of others," Aragorn states, his hand hovering over the hilt of his sword.

"It is the will of Theoden," Hama replies smoothly, patiently waiting for the rest of the groups weaponry.

"I am the heir of Gondor, and friend of the Theoden King."

I make sure to keep my face blank, the amusement that wants to show is hard to restrain when listening to Aragorn's words. There's puzzlement in the Doorwarden's gaze now, as though trying to figure out how to get Aragorn to relinquish the weapon. The expression is gone a few moments later as the male points his own weapon towards us, barring our path even more.

"This is the house of Theoden, not Aragorn." He seems to want to say more, but Gandalf speaks before Aragorn.

"It is useless to refuse Theoden's demand, for he shall have his way in his own hall. Whether that will is folly or wisdom," Gandalf stated, though Aragorn still hesitates in complying.

"I would comply if this were only a woodman's cot, and I had any other but Anduril."

I almost felt like sighing, for this is just prolonging what we came here to accomplish. By taking longer to finish this, we prolong the time it will take before Harry is back with us. The weight of his wand is heavy in my pocket, hidden to everyone but myself. If I focus on it enough, then it will feel as though it gets warmer through the fabric. Truly, despite Gandalf saying the young wizard is okay and headed for Helms Deep, a knot of worry continues to grow deep inside me. Anything could happen by then, or could have already happened. My chest throbs at the thought, and I quickly focus back on the conversation around me.

"If you do not lay your sword here, then you will fight alone against all of Edoras." Hama states, gesturing where my weapons lay against the wall.

"No, not alone!" Gimli growls out, glaring heatedly at the guard.

"We are all friends here, or our only reward shall be the laughter of Mordor!" Gandalf cuts in, "Here is my sword, goodman, Hama. It is named Glamdring for it was forged by Elves long ago. Keep it safe." Gandalf hands the sword over.

Hama takes it gently, and places it with my own. Gandalf looks expectantly at Aragorn.

"Come now, Aragorn," he urges the stubborn man.

"Very well," Aragorn slowly releases his sword, but still keeps Hama from taking it, opting to put it next to Glamdring himself. "Do not let anyone touch this sword, or draw it from it's sheath. For if anyone other than Elendil's heir were to do so, death would find them – swiftly."

I absently wonder if Aragorn is enjoying himself, a little, or maybe a little too much. I notice a small smirk in his eyes as the Doorwarden pales and steps back from the weapon. Hama's eyes are filled with awe only moments later, and I have to swallow an undignified snort at the change in reaction.