My narrative sometimes tracks Tolkien's version of Middle-earth, sometimes Jackson's. In this chapter, I follow Tolkien in having Éomer present at Meduseld when Gandalf and the Three Hunters arrive.

Thanks to the following reviewers: Apsenniel, CAH, Windwraith, Tinnuial, The Inebriated Lion-Minion, and Opalkitty. I am delighted to receive any and all responses, whether reviewers are logged in or not. If you do happen to be logged in, I will use the reply feature to get back to you.

This chapter incorporates quotations from the book and/or movie versions of The Lord of the Rings.

Beta Reader: Dragonfly, who is amazing in her ability to catch even the smallest discrepancy

Chapter 21: A Tale of Two Horses

With the vigor of a much younger Man, Gandalf strode rapidly toward the stable. Aragorn and Legolas kept pace with him, but Gimli trailed behind, grumbling at having been pulled unceremoniously from the bench where he had snored away the night. Legolas, however, had been unmoved by his complaints. "Gandalf departs this morning," the Elf fretted, "and he will have no companion. I like it not that he should venture himself alone upon these plains. What if he should be pursued by Saruman's minions?"

"He would outrun them. Not even the most tireless of Uruk-hai could outpace that giant horse of his," the Dwarf had replied curtly as he struggled with his boots. "In any case, I am sure our wizard has his reasons for deeming that we should remain with Théoden's folk."

Gimli was of course correct. Legolas had arisen early that morning and gone to Gandalf to renew his plea that he should be permitted to accompany the wizard. Gandalf, however, had once again patiently explained to the young Elf that Théoden would need every arm able to bear weapon, whether sword, bow, or axe. "You will be much more useful at Helm's Deep than gadding about the Plains of Rohan," he had said to Legolas.

"You will be gadding about the Plains of Rohan," Legolas retorted.

"Ah, but that's different, my lad. I have a reason for gadding about."

"I have a reason as well," argued Legolas. "Protecting you is a reason."

"When have I ever been in need of your protection," objected Gandalf indignantly.

"I can think of several occasions," Legolas said, grinning in spite of himself. "For one, have you forgotten the time you entered Shelob's lair?"

"I have forgotten nothing," huffed the wizard. "When I regained consciousness, I should have escaped that web."

"If you had regained consciousness, you might have."

"There are no such webs on the Plains of Rohan," the wizard shot back, but suddenly he looked uneasy. "Legolas," he said worriedly, "there was so much that I meant to tell Frodo before we parted. I would have warned him about Cirith Ungol and Shelob's lair. I do hope that if he went that way…." The wizard's voice trailed off and he stood in thought for several minutes. Then he rallied. "Of course," he said briskly, "Sam is with him. Sam will look out for Frodo."

Legolas saw his chance and seized it. "You see," he declared triumphantly. "Frodo has someone to look out for him, and so should you!"

Gandalf glowered at him. "Legolas Thranduilion, of all Elves you are the most vexatious." He shook his staff at the young Elf. Now begone before I affix a beard to your face!"

"You don't fight fair," Legolas protested.

"Men have a saying," proclaimed Gandalf with mock sententiousness, "that 'all's fair in love and war'—and we are at war, I hope you've noticed!"

With a grimace, Legolas gave over 'wizard wheedling', as Merry had taken to calling the Hobbits' futile efforts at inveigling information from the taciturn Istar during the Fellowship's time together in Rivendell. Although he did not take Gandalf's threat seriously, Legolas had to admit to himself that further importuning of the irascible wizard would do no good. So, as Aragorn had bade him, he set about rousing the Dwarf so that all three Hunters would see Gandalf off after an early breakfast.

Now it was Gandalf who was fretting as he stood beside Shadowfax stroking the horse's neck—whether to calm himself or the horse Legolas was not sure. "The Grey Pilgrim," Gandalf muttered. "That's what they used to call me. Three hundred lives of Men I've walked this earth, and now I have no time." He swung himself atop Shadowfax and addressed a few final words to Aragorn, concluding with the adjuration that the Ranger should look for the wizard's return in less than a week—if return he would. "At dawn, look to the east," were the last words the wizard uttered.

Aragorn nodded and stepped aside. Gandalf urged the horse forward. Legolas still stood in the aisle, and the young Elf sprang back and raised his arm to protect his face from the mud thrown up by the hooves of Gandalf's steed. Gimli opened his mouth to tease the Elf over his near encounter with dirt, but he saw his friend's troubled expression. He cleared his throat. "Powerful horse, that."

"Yes, Gimli," Legolas replied distractedly.

"A real behemoth."

"Aye, Gimli," Legolas replied mechanically.

"More of an oliphaunt than a horse, actually."

Legolas looked directly at Gimli for the first time. "What are you on about, Gimli?"

"Horse like that, any creature got in its way would be squashed flatter than a dinner platter."

Legolas permitted himself to smile. "I know what you are trying to do, Gimli, and I thank you. I suspect, though, that even an oliphaunt could be brought down by a few well-placed arrows."

"Aye, if there were an Elf on hand to shoot said arrows. I don't reckon there's an Orc hereabouts with the necessary aim."

Legolas considered. "It is true," he conceded, "that it is more difficult to hit a moving target than a stationary one—and I do not expect that Gandalf will allow any grass to grow beneath the hooves of his steed."

"There, now!" exclaimed Gimli. "So leave off your worrying. Let's eat!"

Smiling in spite of himself, Legolas accompanied the Dwarf back into Meduseld, where Gimli set about 'filling in the corners of his stomach', as he put it. Legolas had no desire for a second breakfast, but he obliged the Dwarf by keeping him company.

By the time Gimli pronounced himself satisfied, all of Edoras was astir as the Rohirrim packed whatever was needful for the trek to Helm's Deep, where the King intended that they should make their stand against the forces of Saruman. Aragorn was nowhere in sight. No doubt he was closeted somewhere taking counsel with Théoden. Legolas and Gimli went outside the Hall and occupied themselves with helping any of Théoden's folk who seemed in need of aid. Háma and Gamling strode about urging the folk not to pack overmuch. "Carry only what is needful," Háma said to one old Man who staggered under the weight of a bed frame. "My wife is ill," the agéd Man said piteously. "I do not wish her to languish upon the hard, cold stone of the caverns beneath the Hornburg." Gimli was near, helping a Man repair a wagon wheel. He cleared his throat. "Now then, Grandfather," he harrumphed, "you just find me a few odd pieces of wood once we are at Helm's Deep, and I vow to you that my axe shall shape them into a comfortable cot for your wife."

"Thank you, Master," the old Man said gratefully. Gimli waved his hand dismissively. "I do not wish my axe to lose its bite," he said. "A taste of wood will serve to whet its appetite."

Legolas bent his head over a basket into which he was packing foodstuffs and struggled not to laugh at the Dwarf's attempt to appear gruff and indifferent. "Is there anything else I may do for you, Mother?" he said at last to the woman who labored beside him. She shook her head, too shy to address him or even to raise her eyes and look upon him. Her infant toddled near, and she snatched up the child and hid her face in its curls. "Good fortune to you, Mother," Legolas said gently. The Elf looked about for someone else who might need assistance and saw two children standing as if dazed beside a horse. He approached them carefully, with slow movements. "What are your names, young ones?" he asked. The younger of the pair, a girl, buried her face in her brother's tunic. "I am Éothain," the boy said hesitantly, "and this is my sister Freda."

"Well, Éothain, and where are your parents?"

"Our village was attacked," the boy said sadly. "Mama told us to ride for Edoras, but she has not come after." Beside him his sister gave a sob. She lifted her face from her brother's tunic.

"I did not want to go," she cried, "and I told Mama that Papa said Éothain was not to ride Garulf because he was too big for him. But Mama made us go!"

"I think," suggested Legolas, "that your Mama knew that Garulf was too big for Éothain but not too big for the two of you together. And your Mama was right, wasn't she, for here you both are."

The little girl considered and then nodded solemnly.

"And now together you shall journey on to Helm's Deep, where you may perhaps find your mother," Legolas continued. "Master Gamling has told me that many folk have taken refuge at that stronghold. Here, let us bridle Garulf so that he may bear you hence."

Éothain fetched the horse's tack, and Legolas helped the boy fasten the straps. Then the Elf led horse and children to the woman he had been assisting earlier.

"Mother," he said, nodding toward Éothain and Freda, "may these two young ones travel with you? Their horse can bear some of your bundles."

The woman looked at the two forlorn children, and her own fear seemed the less.

"I should look after them even had they no horse to offer," she replied, speaking with a boldness that she had not known she possessed. She looked the Elf directly in the face for the first time. "You were kind to me, Master. You were kind to me and mine, and you needn't have been, for you are a stranger to this land and my folk are as nothing to you. 'Twould be poor of me if I accepted your aid and then turned about and refused to help another." With that, she blushed at her audacity and lowered her eyes.

"I see now," said Legolas gravely, "why foes break upon Rohan like waves upon the rocky shore of the Great Lake. Man and woman, the Rohirrim are a stout folk." He bowed low to the woman and then strode away, leaving her both amazed and proud.

"Well, now," she said, recovering her voice and turning to the children. "And your names are?"

"Éothain and Freda," the boy said promptly, his spirits, too, having been revived by the kindness of the Elf.

"Be you hungry?"

"Yes, Aunt," the two children answered in unison.

"Then I shall fix you somewhat to eat. Éothain, whilst I do so, do you think you could lade the horse with a few of those bundles?"

"Yes, gladly," Éothain answered quickly. He was pleased to be given a task within his strength, for he wished to serve his folk in some way, however small.

"What may I do?" Freda asked eagerly, for she shared her brother's desire to be of use.

"Would you mind the babe for me?" the woman replied.

"Oh, yes!" exclaimed Freda. She carefully took the baby in her arms and came to stand by the side of the woman as she fed the small cookfire with twigs. "Mama says," the child confided, "that soon we may have a baby of her own. We had a little brother upon a time, but he died. I remember him. Mama says that there was another one before him, but he died as well. I don't remember him, but Éothain says he does."

Her words were proof of the casualness with which death entered each household, and they awoke within the woman a deep protectiveness. 'These two shall not die', she resolved to herself. 'I will see them safe to Helm's Deep. I swear it. Aye, to the Goddess of Births and Beginnings, I swear it.'

While the woman was forming this resolve, Legolas was looking about for his companions. Háma passed by, leading a horse. "If you are seeking your friends," he called, "Lord Aragorn at least is within the Great Hall." Legolas thanked him and ascended the steps to Meduseld. Within was a great hubbub as Théoden's household packed such goods as they would need as well as a few heirlooms of the House of Eorl. From the door, Legolas observed Éowyn bending over a chest. When she straightened, the king's niece held a sword. She sighted along its edge and hefted it, as if judging its balance. As Legolas watched impressed, she put the sword through a series of maneuvers that would have won praise from Glorfindel himself.

As Éowyn swung the sword, Aragorn approached her from behind. Sensing the intruder, the woman of Rohan suddenly pivoted and brought down her upraised sword. Faster than sight, the Ranger drew the blade gifted him by Celeborn and parried the blow. Éowyn stood, breathing hard, her eyes locked with Aragorn's.

"You have some skill with the blade," the Dunadan said evenly, as if it were an everyday matter to match blades with the kinswoman of a king.

Éowyn turned from him to replace the sword in its scabbard. "The woman of this land learned long ago," she said over her shoulder, "that those without swords may still die upon them. I fear neither death nor pain." She turned to face the Ranger.

"What do you fear my lady?" he said dispassionately.

"A cage," she replied. "To stay behind bars until use and old age accept them and all chance of valor has gone beyond recall or desire."

It was hard to read Aragorn's expression. Legolas thought he saw both pity and understanding.

"You are the daughter of kings," the Man said softly, "a shield-maiden of Rohan. I do not think that will be your fate."

The heir to the throne of Gondor bowed to the Lady Éowyn and walked away, nodding to Legolas as he passed him and went outside. Legolas looked back at the maiden and marked how she gazed longingly after the Ranger. 'If Gandalf were here', the Elf thought to himself, 'he would be troubled by that look. It is a pity that Éowyn has led a life trammeled by her duties as Théoden's niece, but Aragorn will not be the one to mend her misery'.

Gimli stepped into view as the Elf stood meditating. "O ye princeling," chided the Dwarf teasingly, "this be no time to stand about mooning like a love-sick swain." Smirking, the Nauga wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. "And you no doubt," the Elf retorted with a smile, "have been hard at work seeing to the disposition of the ale." Gimli was unperturbed. "Packing and lading are dry work," he replied serenely. Before Legolas could reply, someone entered the Hall calling for Gimli. "Master Dwarf," came the shout, "there's another wagon wheel needs mending." At once Gimli was all business. "Later, lad," he grunted as he strode swiftly past Legolas back out into the sun. Legolas looked after the Dwarf fondly. 'If I ever lose the title of scamp to anyone', the Elf laughed to himself, 'it will be to Gimli'. He followed the Dwarf outside. As he emerged into the light, he heard a voice call him and turned to see Éomer approaching. The Man had lost nothing of his forthrightness of manner. "We are apportioning out the remaining horses," he said briskly. "You and the Dwarf have shared a steed. If you wish, you could be mounted separately."

Legolas shook his head. "Thank you, Éomer, but Gimli has no horsecraft."

Éomer shrugged. "As you wish." He turned and strode toward the stable. Legolas fell into step beside him.

"I should see to Arod."

"You do not trust our ostlers?"

Legolas glanced at Éomer and saw that the Man was grinning.

"I fear," smiled the Elf, "that they will take such prodigious good care of Arod that he will be loath to be once more in my keeping."

The Man laughed. "Aragorn spoke the truth, then. He swore to me that, appearances to the contrary, you are not altogether lacking in humor."

"I am grateful," deadpanned Legolas, "that Aragorn gave me such a rousing character."

Before Éomer could reply, he was hailed by one of the Riders, who informed him that his uncle craved his counsel. Bidding the Elf good day, he turned back toward the Great Hall. Legolas walked on in the direction of the stable. As he neared it, he heard a hubbub of shouts and the unmistakable sound of hooves kicking against wood. He looked in at the door. With his back to him stood Aragorn, watching as two stablemen tried in vain to control a rearing stallion, each pulling hard upon a rope. Legolas could tell from the set of his shoulders that his friend was greatly affected by the horse's distress. The Man took a step toward the plunging steed, but one of the Rohirrim called out a warning.

"That horse is half mad, my lord," declared the ostler. "There's nothing you can do. Leave him."

Aragorn was undeterred. Slowly he approached the horse, all the while talking softly. "Fæste. Stille nú. Fæste. Stille nú," he murmured in what sounded to Legolas like an incantation. Steady. Be calm now. Steady. Be calm now. The Ranger slowly raised his hand toward the horse's muzzle. The stallion snorted but did not try to bite him. Aragorn took a rope from the hand of one of the ostlers, who gladly backed away. "Lac is drefed. Gefrægon," Aragorn murmured to the horse, his voice sympathetic. Battle is stirred up. All have heard.

To the amazement of the stablemen, the horse calmed a little further. Aragorn signaled to the second hostler that he should drop his rope. With nothing to fight against, the horse grew even more manageable and allowed Aragorn to stroke his neck.

"Hwæt nemnað ðe? Hm? Hwæt nemnað ðe?" said the Ranger soothingly. What is your name? Hm? What is your name?

Eowyn came to the door of the stall where she had been tending to her own horse. "His name is Brego," she called. "He was my cousin's horse," she added sadly.
"Brego," Aragorn repeated thoughtfully. "Ðin nama is cynglic," he said to the horse. Your name is kingly. Unconsciously, Aragorn slipped from the Common Speech into the elvish of his childhood. "Man le trasta, Brego?" he murmured. "Man cenich?" What troubles you, Brego? What did you see? The horse had not been raised by the Fair Folk, but he behaved as if he understood, tossing his head once and then standing placid and submissive.

Éowyn was awestruck. "I have heard of the magic of Elves," she ventured, "but I did not look for it in a Ranger from the North. You speak as one of their own."

Aragorn gave a noncommittal shrug. "I was raised in Rivendell for a time." He addressed one of the ostlers. "Turn this fellow free. He's seen enough of war."

Stepping back, Aragorn saw Legolas.

"I am returning to the Great Hall," he called to the Elf.

"I will tend to Arod, Aragorn, and then I shall join you. If you see Gimli, tell him I will be along shortly."

Aragorn nodded and strode from the stable. Quickly, Éowyn put away her currying brush and followed after. Legolas frowned at her hasty departure but went into Arod's stall and set about grooming him. He had hardly begun, however, when one of the ostler's gave a shout. The Man had been trying gingerly to lay hold of Brego's leading rein, but once Aragorn had departed, the horse had become as skittish as formerly. He reared, and the Man dove to one side, leaving the path to the doorway unobstructed. Brego broke for the opening. Plunging through it, he galloped down the hill. The gates of Edoras were unbarred, for the evacuation of the settlement had begun in earnest. Astonished folk scattered before the charging stallion, and then he was upon the plain, galloping westward.

At the ostler's shout, Legolas had sprung from Arod's stall, and standing at the door of the stable, he watched wistfully as the horse grew small in the distance until even his elven eyes had difficulty descrying the steed. The young Sinda wondered if he would ever again see the mighty stallion, and that thought put him in mind of Shadowfax.

'That's two horses I'd give a lot to gaze upon once more', he sighed to himself. 'And the rider', he added to himself. 'Horse and rider, safe beyond question—that is what I desire. Will it come to pass, I wonder'.

The Elf's reverie was interrupted by the ostler, who had come to stand by him. "I hope," the Man worried, "that the horse doesn't get his rope tangled about a bush."

"If his reins become so entangled," Legolas said wryly, "then I should be sorry for the bush!" With that, the Elf returned to Arod. Quickly he completed his grooming of the horse, and then he hastened back to Meduseld, to the two friends whose whereabouts and safety were unquestioned. For how much longer, however, the Elf could not be certain.