Mustering the Rohirrim

I spent the remainder of the night wandering the halls, pondering and even bored. I had changed back into my usual attire, leaving the jerkin outside Eowyn's door. I had found out where it was earlier in the night. It seemed like centuries ago now, although it had only been several hours. I had cried- alright, so it may have just been 3 or 4 odd tears, but for somebody who hasn't cried for as long as they could remember it was a big deal. I still wasn't quite sure why, though I guessed it was the physical and emotional toil of being wounded, and the confusion that I was going through that caused it.

A black foreboding feeling fell over me as I walked through the halls of Helms Deep. Sauron's hand was reaching here, as it was with the rest of Arda. It could be felt like a heavy blanket on the soul. I lent on the balcony rail, though the night air was cold. There were quiet whispers coming from the direction of my friends rooms, though so quiet that not even I could make them out, though to be fair I was several hundred meters from them.

Then out of nothingness a piercing scream rose, coming from the direction of the 'fellowship's' quarters. I clapped my hands over my ears for a moment to block the awful noise, then began to jog as fast as possible towards the source of the noise. Running was unwise after my recent 'episode' but for once Eru was with me. My legs were long, and still carried me quite fast.

I burst into the room at the same time as Legolas, Aragorn and Gimli burst in from their room across the hall. "IIII seeee youuuu…" A dark voice full of malice crooned, awakening everyone in Helms Deep. Something glass fell and rolled onto the floor. A hobbit- Pippin I figured- fell, though Legolas caught him before he hit the ground. There was a snap of material and something was cast over the globe on the ground. Gandalf knelt down to Pippin, who was lying rigid on the floor where Legolas had lain him. "Pippin!" Merry gasped.

Gandalf put his face near his face- listening for breath I realised. "He's alive." I told him, attempting to save time. "I don't know what condition." Gandalf gave what I assumed was a nod in my direction. He laid his hands on Pippins face, chanting something under his breath in a language I didn't know. Pippin shuddered then cried shrilly "It is not for you Saruman! I will send for it at once! Do you understand? Say just that!" It sounded unlike him, so much that I almost thought he was someone else. He struggled for a few moments before Gandalf yelled "Fool of a Took!" That snapped him out of it. The hobbit relaxed, but cringed.

"Forgive me." He said in a small voice.

"Look at me." Gandalf commanded, going into his Maia mode, as I called it. "What did you see?" I didn't realise I was drawing back until I felt Aragorn's presence behind me. Gandalf may be a warrior, wizard, and among my best friends, but he could be very, very fearsome if need be.

Pippin whimpered a little, before composing himself. "There was a white tree. In a courtyard of stone. It was dead." He paused for a moment. "The city was burning."

Gondor, I concluded. More specifically Minas Tirith, the white city as it was also called. A light pang went through me. Boromir had been from Minas Tirith. They may not have even received news of his death yet. Despite all the mad events that had happened, it had only been about two weeks since he sailed over the Rauros.

"Minas Tirith," Gandalf hastily inquired just as these thoughts were running through my mind. "Is that what you saw?"

"I.. I saw him!" Pippin stuttered. "I can hear his voice in my head."

"And what did you tell him? Speak!"

Pippin shuddered. I wanted to give him a hug, which was unusual because I didn't often hug people. "He asked my name. I didn't answer. He hurt me."

"What did you tell him about Frodo and the ring?" Of course, the crux of the matter.

Several minute later, we stood in the great hall. The air was tense and brittle, as if a single sound would spell the end. "There was no lie in Pippin's eyes." Gandalf explained to Theoden eventually. "A fool he may be, but an honest one. He told Sauron nothing of the ring." He paused to think. "We are strangely fortunate. Pippin managed to get a glimpse of the enemy's plan. He plans to strike Minas Tirith. Saurons defeat at Helms Deep showed him one thing- He knows the heir of Elendil has come forth. Men are not as weak as he supposed. They still have courage, strength enough to challenge him. He fears this. He will not risk the peoples of Middle Earth uniting. He will raze Minas Tirith to the ground before he see's a king return to the throne of men. If the beacons of Gondor are lit, Rohan must be ready for war."

It was a worthy speech, and made sense. The Saurons logic at least, could not be silenced. However, Theoden was obstinate. "Tell me- why should we ride to aid those who did not aid us? What do we owe Gondor?" I think being woken in the early hours of the morning might have made Theoden biased.

"I will go." Aragorn affirmed though, vouching for his state.

"No." Gandalf said coldly.

"They must be warned!" Aragorn protested.

"You know which path you must take." Gandalf whispered to him. He then addressed us all: "Understand this- Things are now in motion that cannot be undone. I ride for Minas Tirith. I won't be going alone." I felt his gaze sweep across me to someone else. The hobbits.

Gandalf, Merry and Pippin were making their way to the stables. The last thing I heard before their voices were blocked by stone walls was Merry saying "Don't you understand? The enemy thinks you have the ring! He's going to be looking for you Pip. They have to get you out of here." So sad, yet one of those inevitable, unavoidable truths. The days were darkening.

A few minutes later I heard Shadowfax's rapid hoof-beats leave the stables, and Merry's forlorn footsteps making their way back to us. "Merry." Aragorn said, putting his arm around him. He smelled different. Merry had given away the last of his pipe-weed.

"He's always followed me since our tweens." Merry sniffed a little. "I would get him in the worst trouble, but would always get him out of it. Now he's gone. Just like Frodo and Sam." I patted his shoulder. When it came to race, we were both now outcasts. Unheard of.

Aragorn reassured him. "There is one thing I have learned about hobbits. They are the most hardy folk."

Merry gave a bark of laughter. "Foolhardy maybe. He's a Took." It did nothing to lighten the sombre mood.

We did nothing of importance after Pippin and Gandalf left. We wandered the halls and exchanged small talk with random folk.

I sought out Eowyn and taught her how to use her sword to her advantage. It was all very well cutting, slashing and twirling, looking like a real warrior. But a simple stab could just as effectively end a life, and was quicker in the long run. It also took less energy, and swords are heavy. Eowyn caught on quickly, and we had several duels. It also gave me a chance to improve my own skills. I disliked swords, and tried to avoid using mine. It was good to remind myself how to use one, as I hadn't used it properly for at least three years.

Eventually we stopped, and Eowyn went to clean up and do her duties. I found Merry, Gimli, Legolas and Aragorn sitting in the main hall eating. They chewed slowly and purposefully, attempting to spend as much time as possible doing something. I was tempted to pull my violin out. That's just what I did, and I sat by them on the bench tuning it quietly. They didn't bother to ask where it had come from, or what I could play. I didn't care. The fellowship was breaking again.

The day passed. We mutually decided to go onto the stairs at the front of the building. I folded my violin back into a cube and put it back in my pouch. Stuck the bow in my quiver, ever useful. Night began to fall, then fall it did. Aragorn, Merry and Gimli pulled out pipes and chewed on them. Legolas and I contented ourselves with not polluting our lungs.

I sensed Legolas lean forward. "There seems to be a flame on top of the mountain- no two." I comprehended. Gandalf was going to Minas Tirith, in Gondor. Gondor was most likely to be attacked. "Amon Din." I breathed. Aragorn caught my word, jumping off his feet and running into the hall calling "The beacons of Minas Tirith! The beacons are lit! Gondor calls for aid!" Us four followed in suite, without calling.

Theoden had been crouched over a table, looking at some paper. I assumed it was a map of some sort. I heard Eowyn run and stand next to Eomer, her breath held as she awaited Theoden's reaction. The air was tense. Then he spoke loud and clear: "And Rohan shall answer!" There was a sigh of relief from Eowyn and Eomer.

Several hours later everyone was preparing for battle. The king strode out of the great hall, as someone rang a gong at the top of a tower. "Muster the Rohirrim!" He cried "Assemble the men at Dunharrow. As many men as can be found. You have two days. On the third, we ride for Gondor and war!" The proclamation could be heard all throughout the city, and was met with a cheer. Hadn't they already seen enough death?

"Gamling." Theoden summoned, quieter than he had been whilst proclaiming. "Make haste across the Riddermark. Summon every able- bodied man to Dunharrow."

Gamling affirmed him. "I will."

Once I would have volunteered to do it in his stead, but in my condition I thought it would be a bad idea. Over the night I had done many stretches that may have inflamed my side, but it appeared to be healing fast again. I had drunken about half of my remaining Ent-draught the night Pippin had taken the Palantir, and after my episode. It seemed that if I drunk it after a spasm it worked more effectively. Not that I was eager to test the theory. But I reckoned that if I added some water to the Ent draught- dilated it- I could make it last longer and drink more of it. I prayed to the Valar, to Illuvatar, to anyone who could be prayed to that I would be fit enough to at least glide during the upcoming battle. It was my best and most effective strategy.

Everyone was getting ready, packing armour and leading horses around. Rohan was preparing to go to war. I went to the stables and found the horse I had been riding lately. After confirming with the stable boy I was indeed allowed to take it, I led it out and left it with Legolas- by far the most skilled horseman. Like I had before the battle of Helms Deep, I found a smith and payed him to let me use his forge. I would need to get some money soon- maybe I could do some carpentering work for somebody, or give fighting lessons to young boys. After quickly bathing I went back to my horse and with a borrowed brush, brushed it down. I put a light saddle on it, figuring out the buckles and knots as I went. It was quite complicated, and took me about an hour. Aragorn came up to me about halfway through and tried to show me how, but because of my blindness his efforts fell flat. I was grateful for his try though.

Someone came up to us leading a horse. It was Eowyn. "Will you ride with us?" Aragorn inquired, curious of why she was here. "Just to the encampment." She replied. "It's a tradition for the women of court to farewell the men." I knew that much was true. We had been farewelled by a host of people when we had gone to Isengard- that had predominately women. Also, from what I remembered from previous experience it was a custom. But I could sense her shoulders tighten slightly, betraying the lie, or at least only a partial truth. Apparently Aragorn noticed it too. He flipped up a saddle blanket. Eowyn promptly snatched it and threw it back down.

"The men have found their captain." She said. "They will follow you into battle, even to death. You have given us hope." She turned away and began to adjust the saddle's girth, ignoring Aragorn. I left him to contemplate her words. "Deal with it." I told him, walking off to find Gimli. Maybe he needed an axe sharpening or something, as I was bored with nothing to do.

I entered, hearing Merry through the door. Maybe he wanted help with something, or would be willing to simply hang around with me. Boredom is a curse. Though what I witnessed next was far more interesting than anything I could have thought of.

"Ex-excuse me." He stammered to the king once he had finished speaking with an advisor of some sort. "Yes." Theoden said, with a mixture of boredom and interest. This appeared to hearten Merry. He grew more confident, a bit of steel making its way into his voice.

"I have a sword." He said. "Please accept it. I offer you my service, Theoden King." My mouth literally dropped open, though I quickly snapped it shut when I realised. What was the world coming to? A hobbit had just willingly pledged his service in battle, knowing the consequences. Perhaps not fully, but he had plucked up the courage and done it. I can tell you all now- and it will probably remain forevermore- the most surprising and courageous thing I had ever witnessed as far as I can remember. The runner up had been the time Gwaihir- yes the eagle- had cracked open a barrel of ale and drunk the whole thing. Trust me, a drunk eagle is possibly one of the most funny things that anyone can ever observe. But that is off point. Merry had just pledged his service into battle, damning the consequences. Most likely for Pippin. It was a beautiful selfless act.

Merry nervously awaited the kings verdict. Theoden stretched out his arm, to his obvious surprise. "And I gladly accept. You shall be Meriadoc, esquire of Rohan." I could almost hear the awe and satisfaction radiating off him. He gave a quick bow, then ran off to the door to tell us. Before he broke the door running through it I lay a hand on his shoulder. I gave a genuine smile: a vampire smile, but it was the best I could do. I knelt down and hugged him. I'm still not quite sure why, but I did. Considering I rarely gave hugs, it was an important moment. "That was a brave thing you did." I told him. His grip around my shoulder tightened. "I know." He whispered. "I did it for Pip." The wonder of hobbits.

We came outside, meeting Legolas and Gimli who were astride their horse prepared to leave. I felt Legolas's eyes fall on my face. I felt the tips of my ears heat up- thank Eru for my hood. Ever since I figured out last night, I wasn't sure what to do about it, or about myself. Gimli grunted. "I wish I could muster a legion of dwarves, fully armed and ready to the teeth."

Legolas mildly objected. "Your kinsmen may have no need to go to war. I fear war already marches upon their own lands." It was foreboding. Almost the exact same thing had been said before Helms Deep.

The first of the Rohirrim set off, the rest following in suite. I gave Merry's pony a little kick as he was trying to get it to move. I had finally figured out the basics of riding. Or my but was just getting used to being sore. Either way, it was a blessing.

I heard Theoden talk to himself at the head, as I could track all conversations in the army if I wanted too. "So it is before the walls of Minas Tirith we will fall. The doom of our time will be decided."

Eomer yelled out to all upon hearing this. "Now is the hour! Riders of Rohan, oaths you have taken! Now fulfil them all! TO LORD AND LAND!" He screamed the last part, attempting to be inspirational I guess. It worked in part. But far in the distance, over in Gondor, I swear I heard the desperate sound of orc weapons against mans sword, and the ferocity of Uraks breaking upon the struggling men.

A/N: Apologies for the late entry! I've had a few assessments crop up= equaling lack of time. Also apologies for the boring chapter, but I will give you VIRTUAL CUPCAKES if you review. All feedback, positive or negative is appreciated. :)