Chapter One
Travels From Afar
It was a bright day, and the sunlight made ripples through the green grass of Rohan land, yet it did not bring warmth. Winds coming from the south brought coldness and Aragorn clutched the front of his cloak tighter as he rode on toward Edoras. His other three companions did not seem to notice, or they simply brushed it off their minds. As the kingdom of Rohan came into sight, Gandalf reigned Shadowfax and the company halted to a stop.
"Edoras and the Golden Hall of Meduseld. There dwells Theoden, king of Rohan, whose mind is overthrown. Saruman's hold over King Theoden is now very strong." Mithrandir cast a woeful glance at the direction of their destination, and Legolas kicked Hasufel into a trot towards Edoras. The three followed in silence. They had not succeeded in retrieving the two hobbits, but Gandalf was assured that they were in safe hands. He had turned to driving evil out of the land of the horse-masters. As the sound of hooves hitting cobblestone reached their ears, people of Edoras dared a peek out of their doors to see who the guests were. As Gimli grunted at a disheveled old man who stared his way, Gandalf curtly showed disapproval and so no more sound came from any of them until they reached the door to the hall
As guards searched them and deprived of any weapon they had, Gandalf whispered to his friends in a hushed tone.
"Be careful of what you say. Do not look for welcome here."
The great gates swung open, and closed with a tremoring sound when the four had fully entered the hall. The sound echoed around the marble walls, ringing louder in the absence of sunlight. Guards were posted beside every stone column, and more followed their trail. Aragorn made out the king on his throne, shoulders slacken and no pride of royalty was to be seen. His white hair and beard aged him by years; he was not the young, powerful ruler that he once had been. Legolas, with his elven hearing, heard the whispers that were infiltrating the king's mind.
"My lord, Gandalf the Grey is coming. He is a herald of woe."
"The elf seethed as the wizard proceeded forward. His voice rang in the hall.
"The courtesy of your hall is somewhat lessened of late, Theoden king."
"He is not welcome in our lands, my Lord."
"Be silent! Keep your forked tongue behind your teeth. I have not passed through fire and death to bandy crooked words with a witless worm!"
"With those words, Gandalf threw off his cloak and revealed his staff, embodied in a white orb of light. Grima, the snake of Sauron, hissed and fell to the floor. There he continued to writhe in blind pain, the light being too much for his dead eyes to bear. Theoden struggled against the light, and foul words and curses flowed out of his mouth. Yet no guard put restraint, for all were kindling a tiny hope that Mithrandir could cure their king of Saruman's poison. Hama, a loyal guard of Rohan, pinned Grima to the ground with will and force, ruining any chances of escape.
"If I go...Theoden dies." The deep cavern voice of Saruman leered at the white wizard.
"You did not kill me, you will not kill him!"
With a final shout of "Be gone!", the orb pulsed outwards, embracing the poisoned king in itself. When the light reduced to no more, Theoden slumped forward. Before he could fall, the hands of the White Lady of Rohan caught the king. Her eyes dropped tears of happiness, and before her eyes, the king regained his health, his hair darkening, his pupils finding purpose and love as he held his niece.
"I know your face...Eowyn."
Theoden's hushed voice only brought more tears to the maiden's face, and recognizing the lady before them, the four travelers bowed in respect. King Theoden grasped his sword and slowly stood up. The regal man faced his loyal guards once more, among which Gamling and Hama stood. The lights of Meduseld fully shone once more, and every men beheld the scene with awe. Amidst the happiness and joy that found Edoras there was one misfortune; Grima Wormtongue had managed to slither away before any sentence could be announced on him.
The feast was great. Every men and women of Edoras celebrated the return of their king, bringing out meat and drinks. This night even the soldiers dropped their armour and joined in. It seemed everyone was in a jovial mood, apart from those who sat in urgent council. Of course Gandalf was no herald of woe, but this did not mean he had no ill news. Refugees of orc-raids have reached the citadel.
"This is but a taste of the terror that Saruman will unleash. All the more potent for he is driven by fear of Sauron. Ride out and meet him head-on. Draw him away from your weak." Gandalf pushed Theoden with a tinge of urgency. The king was pacing uneasily as he contemplated all the choices and risks he had. The kingdom of Rohan has weakened greatly, and the Riddermark he had banished from his lands. Only few remembered the glory of Rohan and that was not enough. Theoden planted his two hands on the wooden table.
"Eomer cannot aid us, for he is three hundred leagues away. Rohan can not afford further deaths. I will not risk open war."
Aragorn's pleadings, Legolas's logic, even the dwarf's stubborness could not match the king's firmness as he directed all people of Rohan to head for Helm's Deep. The fortress had stood strong against its foes for centuries, and yet Gandalf could not stop himself from doubting the mountain of its strength. He was immediately onto brewing another plan, one that would hinder the forces of Isengard. Perhaps this was how Rohan would stand against Mordor's forces. The wizard now turned his thoughts onto Merry and Pippin. It was time that they were brought back from the Ents. The council was almost adjourned when a guard hurriedly entered the room.
"Sorry to interrupt, my Lord. One of the guards caught a small one lurking outside the hall. He seems to be what the travelers describe as their friend; short, barefeet and stocky." A small hobbit was thrown before the company. Aragorn stood up in disbelief as he took in the hobbit. It was grimy and just as the guard described.
When the halfling rasied his head to face the table, Mithrandir could not help but let out a sound of distress- this was not one of their friends. It was undeniable that he was a hobbit, but he was much taller than the foursome, and dressed in brown attire that was not seen in Shire nor Bree. Gimli sucked in air in surprise.
"And who might this be?" the dwarf inquired. The hobbit scrambled to his feet and was immediately met with the king's tense gaze. Aragorn and Legolas looked at each other in bewilderment and terror as the hobbit spoke in a trembling voice.
"Rebrand Greyflood presents himself before king Theoden of Rohan, and to the Fellowship of the Ring. I come from Minhiriath, the land between the rivers. I must say, it was not my intent to eavesdrop on the council. But there is news that I felt obliged to inform, your Highness. There are orcs marching on to Rohan as we speak. Its numbers are massive; ten thousand in the least." The halfling gulped before continuing in a rush. "Rohan should prepare for war."