Unlooked for
E/N: Okay, I've just done what I never thought to happen. I started on a slash-story. Well, sort of anyway. It's my first serious story, and also my first slash, so be nice ok? Also my very first adventure story so feedback if it needs improvement, please! Thnx, hope you'll enjoy it,
Love, peace and a paperclip,
-xxx- Elvea
Disclaimer: I do not own anything that New Line Cinema or Tolkien Enterprises already owns *sobs* and I am not gaining any other profit out of writing this than (positive) reviews. So there.
This chapter is dedicated to Sozi and Ari who helped me pick the title... |:o)
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~* ~*~
Prologue - The Batte at the Fords of Isen
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~* ~*~
A dim and misty morning at the Fords of Isen. The river ran swiftly down from its sources above Isengard, broad and shallow, passing in two arms about a large eyot. Over a stony shelf covered with pebbles and stones brought from the north it went. Just above a westward bend in the River were the Fords, in the land of Rohan's Gap.
Théodred looked out over the landscape. He had been warned by his scouts that troups were mustering at the Gates of Isengard, and as it seemed mainly on the west side of the river. With twelve full companies he set out, to stop Saruman's army before it was fully prepared, hoping to come in time. Three of these companies he left on the east bank, but the main strenght of his cavalry he took with him.
As he looked around, things seemed awefully quiet. The only sound to be heard was the neighing of the horses, the thudding of their hooves as they rode along, and the soft muttering of some of the Riders. A threatening feeling started growing within him. The feeling grew as the day wore on. About twenty miles they had ridden from the Fords when they came across the vanguard of Saruman's host. Théodred acted without hesitating. Immediately they attacked, and it didn't take his host long to shatter Saruman's and caused it loss.
More at ease now Théodred urged his company to ride on, and with a higher spirit than before. But not long after their battle they heard battlecries coming from all round them, and within a few moments Théodred found himself and his leading éored brought to a stand by Saruman's main host. New forces were coming from Isengard, and were outflanking him on west side. He was nearly surrounded. His hope turned to his east side. If only he knew what was to be expected there...
A breeze came up from the west and slowly the mists started rolling back through the Gap. At the east also he could now descry forces hastening towards the Fords, but he could not guess their strenght. At once the feeling of fear overwhelmed Théodred, fear that the Riddermark would fall.
'Retreat!' he cried, knowing that his only hope of escape was in this manoeuvre. This one manoeuvre the Riders of the Mark were well trained in, and they managed it in good order, with very little loss. Saruman's host immediately set out to pursue Théodred's host, and he found himself unable to shake the host off. He cursed under his breath when the retreat was delayed as his rearguard was forced to turn and drive off the most eager pursuers. Shortly after he could hear Grimbold, who was in command of the rearguard, cry and he knew things had gone well, or well enough. More than once Grimbold was oblidged to turn at bay to stop pursuers.
It was at the waning of the day when Théodred finally gained the Fords. He set a garrison on the west bank and left Grimbold in charge. Théodred thought quickly what to do, and fifty dismounted Riders were also left with Grimbold. He sent the other Riders over the river at once, along with all the horses. He only kept his own company with him, and with these men he manned the eyot, so that if Grimbold would be driven back, they could cover his retreat. Barely had he reached the eyot when Saruman's eastern force came down upon him and his host with unexpected speed, and though it was much smaller than the western host, Théodred knew it was much more dangerous.
In the host were horsemen of Dunland, and a large pack of orcish wolfriders, feared by horses. These wolves were very swift and used mostly to destroy isolated groups, but at need they would pass through any gaps in companies with reckless ferocity, slashing at the bellies of the horses. Two battalions of Uruk-hai there were also, heavily armed. The horsemen and wolfriders attacked the horse-herds and the picketed horses immediately, and they were slain or dispersed. The garrison on the east bank was swept away, overcome by the sudden assault of the Uruk-hai, and the Riders that had just crossed from the west were driven from the Fords along the Isen, even though they fought desperately.
Théodred knew hope was failing as the enemy took the eastern end of the Fords. A company appeared, of men and orc-men, clad in mail and armed with axes. This company attacked Théodred from both sides. As he fought the hidious creatures he felt that they were trying to drive him away from the shores of the eyot, to the low knoll in its centre. He knew that if aid wouldn't come fast, they would succeed. Already he and his company were further from the shores than before.
'To me, Eorlingas!' Théodred cried. This drew the attention of a great orc- man, and Théodred just barely managed to counter the first two blows of the wielded axe. He knew Grimbold would come to his aid if only he held out a little longer against his opponent. As he fought he could indeed see Grimbold and two other men approaching. But the orc-man caught him off guard at that very second, and even as Grimbold came near to him, he felt the axe smash into his side, cutting through his flesh deep into his body. He sank to the ground, feeling the blood flowing from his body. He knew he was dying. He felt himself slipping away into the darkness.
Grimbold continued to fight, trying to rescue what was left of the company, but he, too, felt hope failing. But then all heard the great thundering of many hooves speeding towards the Fords, and like black shadows the great host of Elfhelm, as it seemed to them, approached. Few of the enemy stood to await the oncoming battle and most fled northwards. Elfhelm send two of the four companies that were with him to pursue those who fled, and left one company to guard the east bank. He knew haste was needed.
Grimbold and his men were now fighting the axemen from one side, and Elfhelm with his own company on the other side. The Rohirrim stil held possesion of both banks, and the axemen were now caught between the two companies. Still the axe-men kept on fighting.
Grimbold desperately guarded Théodred's body, refusing to let the enemy get hold of it. He soon found himself fighting two axemen at a time, defending himself from their axe-blows and trying to slay them. Elfhelm came to his aid and at once slew one of the men. In the confusion Grimbold managed to slay the other. There were no enemies in the eyot left, and as both men stooped to lift Théodred's body, they found him still breathing, but barely.
Théodred felt things becoming lighter in his head, pain fading away. He couldn't open his eyes to see what was happenening, but he knew that two men had intended to lift him and take him away only seconds before.
'Let me lie here...' he whispered, 'to keep the Fords till Éomer comes' even as he spoke the words his voice failed and he slipped back into the, this time, final darkness. The son of the King was dead. The two men had only barely heard Théodred's final words. Then the night fell and a harsh horn was blown, followed by silence. The attack on the west bank ceased, and the enemy there disappeared into the darkness.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~* ~*~
E/N: Well, that's it for now... Éomer will be there in the next chapter, so please, a little patience. If you want me to continue this, that is. I know, it's short, and not very good, but please people, tell me what you think!
E/N: Okay, I've just done what I never thought to happen. I started on a slash-story. Well, sort of anyway. It's my first serious story, and also my first slash, so be nice ok? Also my very first adventure story so feedback if it needs improvement, please! Thnx, hope you'll enjoy it,
Love, peace and a paperclip,
-xxx- Elvea
Disclaimer: I do not own anything that New Line Cinema or Tolkien Enterprises already owns *sobs* and I am not gaining any other profit out of writing this than (positive) reviews. So there.
This chapter is dedicated to Sozi and Ari who helped me pick the title... |:o)
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~* ~*~
Prologue - The Batte at the Fords of Isen
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~* ~*~
A dim and misty morning at the Fords of Isen. The river ran swiftly down from its sources above Isengard, broad and shallow, passing in two arms about a large eyot. Over a stony shelf covered with pebbles and stones brought from the north it went. Just above a westward bend in the River were the Fords, in the land of Rohan's Gap.
Théodred looked out over the landscape. He had been warned by his scouts that troups were mustering at the Gates of Isengard, and as it seemed mainly on the west side of the river. With twelve full companies he set out, to stop Saruman's army before it was fully prepared, hoping to come in time. Three of these companies he left on the east bank, but the main strenght of his cavalry he took with him.
As he looked around, things seemed awefully quiet. The only sound to be heard was the neighing of the horses, the thudding of their hooves as they rode along, and the soft muttering of some of the Riders. A threatening feeling started growing within him. The feeling grew as the day wore on. About twenty miles they had ridden from the Fords when they came across the vanguard of Saruman's host. Théodred acted without hesitating. Immediately they attacked, and it didn't take his host long to shatter Saruman's and caused it loss.
More at ease now Théodred urged his company to ride on, and with a higher spirit than before. But not long after their battle they heard battlecries coming from all round them, and within a few moments Théodred found himself and his leading éored brought to a stand by Saruman's main host. New forces were coming from Isengard, and were outflanking him on west side. He was nearly surrounded. His hope turned to his east side. If only he knew what was to be expected there...
A breeze came up from the west and slowly the mists started rolling back through the Gap. At the east also he could now descry forces hastening towards the Fords, but he could not guess their strenght. At once the feeling of fear overwhelmed Théodred, fear that the Riddermark would fall.
'Retreat!' he cried, knowing that his only hope of escape was in this manoeuvre. This one manoeuvre the Riders of the Mark were well trained in, and they managed it in good order, with very little loss. Saruman's host immediately set out to pursue Théodred's host, and he found himself unable to shake the host off. He cursed under his breath when the retreat was delayed as his rearguard was forced to turn and drive off the most eager pursuers. Shortly after he could hear Grimbold, who was in command of the rearguard, cry and he knew things had gone well, or well enough. More than once Grimbold was oblidged to turn at bay to stop pursuers.
It was at the waning of the day when Théodred finally gained the Fords. He set a garrison on the west bank and left Grimbold in charge. Théodred thought quickly what to do, and fifty dismounted Riders were also left with Grimbold. He sent the other Riders over the river at once, along with all the horses. He only kept his own company with him, and with these men he manned the eyot, so that if Grimbold would be driven back, they could cover his retreat. Barely had he reached the eyot when Saruman's eastern force came down upon him and his host with unexpected speed, and though it was much smaller than the western host, Théodred knew it was much more dangerous.
In the host were horsemen of Dunland, and a large pack of orcish wolfriders, feared by horses. These wolves were very swift and used mostly to destroy isolated groups, but at need they would pass through any gaps in companies with reckless ferocity, slashing at the bellies of the horses. Two battalions of Uruk-hai there were also, heavily armed. The horsemen and wolfriders attacked the horse-herds and the picketed horses immediately, and they were slain or dispersed. The garrison on the east bank was swept away, overcome by the sudden assault of the Uruk-hai, and the Riders that had just crossed from the west were driven from the Fords along the Isen, even though they fought desperately.
Théodred knew hope was failing as the enemy took the eastern end of the Fords. A company appeared, of men and orc-men, clad in mail and armed with axes. This company attacked Théodred from both sides. As he fought the hidious creatures he felt that they were trying to drive him away from the shores of the eyot, to the low knoll in its centre. He knew that if aid wouldn't come fast, they would succeed. Already he and his company were further from the shores than before.
'To me, Eorlingas!' Théodred cried. This drew the attention of a great orc- man, and Théodred just barely managed to counter the first two blows of the wielded axe. He knew Grimbold would come to his aid if only he held out a little longer against his opponent. As he fought he could indeed see Grimbold and two other men approaching. But the orc-man caught him off guard at that very second, and even as Grimbold came near to him, he felt the axe smash into his side, cutting through his flesh deep into his body. He sank to the ground, feeling the blood flowing from his body. He knew he was dying. He felt himself slipping away into the darkness.
Grimbold continued to fight, trying to rescue what was left of the company, but he, too, felt hope failing. But then all heard the great thundering of many hooves speeding towards the Fords, and like black shadows the great host of Elfhelm, as it seemed to them, approached. Few of the enemy stood to await the oncoming battle and most fled northwards. Elfhelm send two of the four companies that were with him to pursue those who fled, and left one company to guard the east bank. He knew haste was needed.
Grimbold and his men were now fighting the axemen from one side, and Elfhelm with his own company on the other side. The Rohirrim stil held possesion of both banks, and the axemen were now caught between the two companies. Still the axe-men kept on fighting.
Grimbold desperately guarded Théodred's body, refusing to let the enemy get hold of it. He soon found himself fighting two axemen at a time, defending himself from their axe-blows and trying to slay them. Elfhelm came to his aid and at once slew one of the men. In the confusion Grimbold managed to slay the other. There were no enemies in the eyot left, and as both men stooped to lift Théodred's body, they found him still breathing, but barely.
Théodred felt things becoming lighter in his head, pain fading away. He couldn't open his eyes to see what was happenening, but he knew that two men had intended to lift him and take him away only seconds before.
'Let me lie here...' he whispered, 'to keep the Fords till Éomer comes' even as he spoke the words his voice failed and he slipped back into the, this time, final darkness. The son of the King was dead. The two men had only barely heard Théodred's final words. Then the night fell and a harsh horn was blown, followed by silence. The attack on the west bank ceased, and the enemy there disappeared into the darkness.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~* ~*~
E/N: Well, that's it for now... Éomer will be there in the next chapter, so please, a little patience. If you want me to continue this, that is. I know, it's short, and not very good, but please people, tell me what you think!