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Halbarad called the company to a halt, and the pounding of hooves turned into dead silence. As her eyes adjusted to the dim light, Daeril could see shapes of men and horses, in a company no bigger than their own. Halbarad dismounted his mare, and went forward with a palm held forward in a sign of peace.
"Rohan? Rohan did you say?" He called out. "That is a glad word. We seek that land in haste from long afar."
"You have found it," Said a strange accented voice, the one that had cried out initially. "When you crossed the fords yonder you entered it. But it is the realm of Théoden the King. None ride here save by his leave. Who are you? And what is your haste?"
"Halbarad Dúnadan, Ranger of the North I am. We seek one Aragorn son of Arathorn, and we heard that he was in Rohan."
"And you have found him also!" A figure ran forward, embracing Halbarad. "Halbarad! Of all joys this is the least expected!"
Daeril could not hear what else was said, as the two went back to the other company and spoke, most likely to the King if he rode with them. It was not long until they returned, Aragorn on a proud gray horse, and they took to the back of the company where rode the sons of Elrond. At Aragorn's command they rode on behind the riders of Rohan, heading for the stronghold of Helm's Deep.
The gray morning had come by the time they rode up through what they soon found to be the Deeping Coomb, and onward to the Hornburg. The rangers set camp on the green, told that they would be brought food and could rest for some hours before setting out again. Aragorn went forth into the Burg, bringing with him Halbarad, Elladan and Elrohir, leaving them to their own governance. Thannor took charge, ensuring everyone ate and attempted to rest. Daeril saw to Rocky and Roheryn, giving them the first good hay since Rivendell, provided graciously by the Rohirrim (who loved horses almost more than themselves, it seemed). After ensuring their comfort, and taking a small meal for herself, she lay down for some semblance of sleep.
It was almost noon when she arose, not feeling much more refreshed than if she had just stayed awake, but the sun and noise of many soldiers bustling around made it difficult to sleep even if there were time. The rangers had already begun getting ready to ride, but to where they did not yet know, save that the Rohirrim were taking to Minas Tirith. Daeril collected Rocky and Roheryn, replacing Roheryn's halter with his bridle instead, now that Aragorn would certainly be riding him. She mounted her own horse, and then grabbed Roheryn's reins before he could walk off, not that he would.
"My old friend there seems to be behaving himself," Daenir said, riding up on Arraben.
"That is because he actually likes me, brother."
Daenir laughed as he rode back to his place in the formation. The rest of the rangers finished mounting up, and they all held position in relative silence while they waited for their leaders to return. It was past noon when finally Aragorn came through the broken gate, just one of the many casualties of the battle that had recently transpired. With him walked the golden haired Lord Éomer, the King's nephew as they had been told, and Halbarad and the sons of Elrond. Behind Aragorn was Legolas son of Thranduil and the dwarf that had gone with them from Rivendell, but whose name Daeril had forgotten. Aragorn went to speak to the King of Rohan, who was mounted on his large grey horse next to a child on a little pony. It took her a moment to realize that the child was in fact one of the Halflings, but she could not tell if it was the Brandybuck or the Took, especially now that he was in Rohirric armor.
With a loud cry in the language of the Rohirrim, Théoden started to ride and the riders of Rohan took off, even the hobbit on his pony. The hooves thundered into the distance, and the green suddenly felt much bigger with so many bodies gone. Aragorn and Halbarad, followed by Legolas and the dwarf, went out to the Dike to look out upon the riders leaving the coomb, and spoke well out of earshot. They went back into the Burg, leaving the rest of them once again to wait, but Halbarad returned to his horse bearing the large standard he had brought from Imladris, the black fabric on top bound with leather cord.
"We ride through the Paths of the Dead," Halbarad stated to the lot of them. "Muster your courage, Dunedain. We need it."
Finally after a long and silent wait, the three emerged onto the green, Aragorn brandishing Andúril aloft. The elf and dwarf mounted a gray horse together, while Aragorn came to take Roheryn from Daeril. He looked surprised that she was there, but not displeased. When he had sprung onto the stallion's saddle, he clucked to him and went up to the front of the formation. With a great blast of his horn, Halbarad rallied the Grey Company to set forth, and with great noise they galloped full tilt down through the Coomb, and onward to the plains of Rohan.
As always, they rode through the night, and into the afternoon of the next day when they reached Edoras, where they came to the Golden Hall where stood the throne of Théoden King. The city was empty save for animals left behind and those who had dared come back through after the battle at Helm's Deep and who were not riding for Gondor, and the company ate lunch while stray dogs circled them in the hall, begging for any scraps that might be spared. Their respite was quick, and then they were set out once more, bound for Dunharrow, which would bring them to the entrance of the Paths of the Dead
Up through the valley rode the Company, with great haste and purpose. Evening fell as they came to Dunharrow, bringing a cloudless sky and stars as far as the eye could see. Daeril had thought her home to be beautiful, in the rolling fields of Bree and the green forest bordering the Shire- but that was nothing compared to the vast openness of the plains of Rohan and the mountain pass that they found themselves in now. Up they rode into the encampment under the mountain pass, and came to be greeted by a golden-haired woman dressed in white. She was young, and beautiful, but also had a stern edge to her. She took them all in in awe, but only truly had eyes for Aragorn. Daeril held in laughter as she realized the poor girl was completely smitten by their leader, despite him being far older than he looked.
They sat down to supper with the Lady of Rohan, whom was introduced to them as being Éowyn, sister of Éomer and niece of Théoden. Ever her attention was on Aragorn as he and the elf and dwarf recounted their side of the battle at Helm's Deep and the great deeds done by her uncle.
"Lords, you are weary and shall now go to your beds with such ease that can be contrived in haste. But tomorrow fairer housing shall be found for you." She said.
"Nay, lady, be not troubled for us!" Aragorn replied. "If we may lie here tonight and break our fast tomorrow, it will be enough. For I ride on an errand most urgent, and with the first light of morning we must go."
The two spoke more of their travel plans, but something did not sit right with the lady. They became silent as everyone finished the meal, Éowyn's eyes never straying from Aragorn, until all present rose to retire. Daeril and Aeldis took a small tent for their own, barely getting their armor off before they were off to sleep in the first somewhat comfortable lodgings they'd had in many a week.
Before dawn they were awoken by Thannor at the entrance of the tent, bidding them arise and ready for the ride. Daeril readied both Rocky and Roheryn out of habit, although Aragorn was more than willing and able to tack his own horse. He came to mount Roheryn, but just as he did the Lady Éowyn approached bearing a cup of what looked to be wine, and dressed as if to travel with them. She even had a sword at her hip. She lifted the glass and toasted to them, taking a sip before offering it to Aragorn. He took it, drinking some before handing it back.
"'Farewell, Lady of Rohan! I drink to the fortunes of your House, and of you, and of all your people. Say to your brother: beyond the shadows we may meet again!"
This close to Éowyn, Daeril could see just how young she was, perhaps only a bit younger than herself. At Aragorn's words the girl wept, trying to hide the tears that threatened to fall on such a proud yet beautiful face. It was the same look she herself had when the rangers would ride away, when she was far too young to go. A heart that wants adventure, or glory, or love, cannot be stopped by someone telling them no.
"Aragorn, wilt thou go?" Éowyn asked, pleading evident in her voice.
"I will."
"Then wilt thou not let me ride with this company, as I have asked?"
"I will not, lady," Aragorn said. 'For that I could not grant without leave of the king and of your brother; and they will not return until tomorrow. But I count now every hour, indeed every minute. Farewell!"
The lady, in a moment of desperation, fell to her knees. Daeril's heart clenched, and she had to look away. It was not fair that she could not ride, she was willing- and will was all it took. Women could do just as much as men, but often did not have the chance to prove themselves. Daeril had been lucky, to have been raised not as a Lady of the court, to have been given the freedom to choose to wield a sword, and live in the wild. Éowyn was expected to be a lady, proper and tame.
"Nay, lady," Aragorn said as a final word. He brought to her feet, and kissed her pale hand.
When Aragorn was in the saddle, the Company took off, leaving Éowyn to guard her people as they set out for whatever doom the Paths of the Dead beheld for them.
It was dark already, as the sun had not fully risen, but the mountain ahead, the Dwimorberg, was dark regardless. Daeril could feel the hair at the back of her neck and on her arms standing on end, even as she rode surrounded by her kinsmen. It felt as though they were being watched, but all that surrounded them was dark shapes of black stones and trees. They soon came to a clearing with a single, large stone pointing up to the sky. Daeril had never felt such dread, not since her encounter with the wraiths in Eriador, until now. Part of her thought about turning her horse around and going back to enjoy a nice cup of ale by the fire with the Lady Éowyn. That would be nice. No, she had to continue on and follow Aragorn, and he would not back down from entering a haunted mountain.
"My blood runs chill," The dwarf, whom Daeril now knew was named Gimli, said- voicing what they all were feeling.
Those who rode ahead of her's horses began to shy, and she felt Rocky threatening to bolt or rear beneath her. Swiftly she dismounted, and brought his reins down over his head lest he decide to follow through with his plans. She spoke softly to him, caressing his cheek, hoping if she remained calm that he would too. Everyone else dismounted, knowing the horses would not pass this stone on their own. They all led their horses past the stone, Daeril making sure to block Rocky's vision from it by keeping it to her left. Soon they came to a sheer rock face on the mountain, and the blackness of the Dark Door, a menacing arch carved with old symbols that none could read, and there they halted.
"This is an evil door," Said Halbarad. "and my death lies beyond it. I will dare to pass it nonetheless; but no horse will enter."
"But we must go in, and therefore the horses must go too," Aragorn said. 'For if ever we come through this darkness, many leagues lie beyond, and every hour that is lost there will bring the triumph of Sauron nearer. Follow me!"
Aragorn rushed forward into the darkness of the mountain, Roheryn following beside him. Daeril followed after Thannor and Daenir, whose horses went without fuss. She expected Rocky to choose now to do something dramatic, and either leave her injured or embarassed as he ran off, but he came along into the darkness with her. Finally, when all had passed into the mountain, Aragorn brought out a torch, which Halbarad helped to light. Elladan, taking up the rear sweep, had another. The company began to move forward, into the darkness.
A/N: Thanks for reading!
