For Lanthir 27- for your marathon read! I hope you make it this far- let me know when you do
As always, thank you to my fabulous beta, Anarithilien.
Summary (It's a long time- sorry. I have also had COVID and really struggled to write anything, but I'm better now.)
Merry was pursued by a Barrow Wight and rescued by Maglor (Vanwë) but Sam sent a message to Aragorn, Legolas and Gimli who travelled to help the Hobbits search for him. On the Barrow Downs, Legolas is taken by the Barrow Wights but has been helped by the Ghost of the Last Prince of Cardolan and is now in a secret chamber where there is a ship, intended as a tomb for Arveleg, as a tribute for the Palantir of Amon Sul which was promised in return for allegiance but never delivered. Vanwë, Maglor, has joined them.
Meanwhile, Elrohir and Baranor have found the Lost Stone of Amon Sul and met up with the Hobbits who are under attack by the long dead army of Angmar. Aragorn and Gimli and Maglor arrive and Elrohir and Maglor go to fight the Barrow Wights while Aragorn, Gimli and the Hobbits fight the dead army. Of the four Mergyll-Dagnir, Baranor has one and is inside the Barrow, Elrohir has both his and the one that Maglor had, and one had been taken from Pippin by an Orc.
Note: Arveleg and the Last Prince were slain by the Witchking's forces that destroyed Amon Sul. It was said that the Palantír was taken to Fornost, but Elrohir has discovered it and given it to Aragorn to fulfil an ancient prophecy that when the Lost Stolen Palantir is restored the Kingdom of Arnor will reunite. Other parts of the prophecy asp tell about the horn ringing in the hills that will awaken those who sleep beneath it. Baranor has sounded the horn of Cardolan that has awoken the dead.
*Aícanaro- Elrohir's sword in previous fics. Anguirel. He gave it to Celeborn and it is now in the Dark Abyss with Maedhros. (More of this later!)
Gimûk- Mordor Speech for 'find'. Or reveal.
Sha- Mordor expression of contempt
Bargronk- Mordor for shitbag basically
Pushdug- dungfilth. (Orcs are not terribly imaginative and insults tend to be concerned with dung.)
Dragûr -a word used by the Barrow Wights. The etymology of the word is from Scandinavian saga literature and folktale. It implies a recognition of something akin to the supernatural world which the Barrow Wights themselves inhabit.
0o0o0
Ch 26: Hrungnîr.
Beneath the earth, another shudder ripped through the tumulus like a thunderstorm was trapped underground. Like the tide coming in fast, it rumbled through the tunnels and the chambers, and broke in a loud crack against the rock wall that separated the Ship's chamber with the rest of the cave system. On the Ship's deck, Legolas spun round, and stared at the shivering rockface. The Ghost of the Last Prince of Cardolan leaned against the gunwale, his face aghast.
Almost immediately, a second crack thundered against the rock and this time, the chamber shook so that pebbles and stones were rattled and fell from the roof, and the silver timbers of the great ship, the Draken Eldarion Hårfagre, shivered slightly.
..They are here…
Agitated, the ghosts of Cardolan crowded about the ship, densely so that it seemed like a mist filled the chamber and Legolas realised that the ghosts sought to hide the ship from the Barrow Wight. Little by little, the Ship vanished like it sailed into the mist.
…Understand.
The Ghost reached out and touched Legolas and he suddenly saw with blinding clarity as if he stood on the edge of memory, outside Time itself:
…it was bitter cold that day on the Tyrn Gorthad but the King, Arveleg, had ridden long and hard to meet them, still bloody from battle against their common foe, the Witchking of Angmar. The lords and nobles of Cardolan. Eldarion, the Prince, stood in the entrance of the Iaun-Gynd, a tribute to the momentous occasion and beside him, her battle dress rich with blood and clogged with gore, was Haleth the Guardian. Named for their ancestor. Upon her breast glimmered a blue brooch.
The Elf, Vanwë stood nearby. His face barely betrayed the great emotion he felt. Eldarion knew what it had cost him to bring this meeting about. And now, Arveleg was dismounting, striding towards Eldarion, his face full of joy and regret, hands outstretched as if he greeted his own son.
Yes. Yes, it would be done. The Palantir would be brought to Iaun-Gynd. Its rightful place. Honoured and honouring the ancestors. The People of Haleth. The ancient bonds.
They showed Arveleg the Draken Eldarion Hårfagre, that was built by Eldarion to be the resting place of the King of Reunited Arnor, Arveleg himself in the womb of the ancestors, in the great Iaun-Gynd. The greatest of honours. And he would be accompanied and protected in death by the Guardians for all time, until the Dagor Dagoreth….
He saw how Vanwë turned and closed his eyes. The Elf had done much indeed, to bring this about…
But they were betrayed…Arveleg was false. The Palantir was never delivered. The Guardian slain, devoured and the Dunédain of Cardolan slain and their souls pursued and devoured. Only the Last Prince, Eldarion, was spared but not through kindness or mercy. No. Angmar had decreed it after all, so there was witness to the utter destruction of Cardolan and that it was due to the treachery of Arveleg. The Draken Eldarion Hårfagre remained empty….
Legolas blinked and stared at the Prince.
'Eldarion,' he whispered. Now he understood some of what he had not before although he did not know this Elf, Vanwë, nor his allegiance. He said earnestly, 'I will see that the Heir of Elendil and Isildur, of Arveleg's line knows of the promise sworn to you, how it was not kept.' But he did not know how he might find Aragorn for a thunderous boom echoed through the chamber. He was trapped here; first by the enclosing rock and second, by the demon that paced on the other side, its dreadful skeletons that would kill Legolas if they caught him.
Small rocks began to shake loose from the walls and hit the deck of the ship, hidden in the ghostly mist.
An awful moan slid through the cracks in the rocks, a low discordant and pneumatic whine that seeped through the fissures and penetrated the chamber. Legolas squeezed his eyes shut as the whine began to penetrate his ears and dig into his brain. He gripped the hilts of the Ale Gezên-aozh more tightly and pressed his arms over his ears.
BOOM!
BOOM!
A crack splintered the rock. It shattered. Boulders tumbled and fell into the chamber.
Dust rose up in a dense cloud, and Legolas saw beyond it, a towering figure of darkness that glinted with steel armour.
It pushed aside the rubble and boulders as if it were nothing and took one step into the silent chamber. A black helm hid its face but for its pale gleaming eyes, and its long black mane blew from beneath the helm as if in a wind. It paused. Listening.
Legolas pressed himself against the ship's timbers, squeezing his eyes shut and hearing the hammer of blood in his heart thunder through his chest so that he did not hear the awful Song of Undoing. He crushed his terror, drowned out all thoughts, stilled his wildly pounding heart, willed his blood to stop banging through his veins for the Úmaiar would hear his blood, smell his fear. He suffocated his own Song so it would not sense him.
The Úmaiar moved, its mane of darkness streamed slowly as it turned its head to search the chamber. It knew he was there, Legolas thought. The cloak of freezing cold fog rushed in behind it like the incoming tide of a grey sea.
Nothing moved. Not a sound. Not a ripple. The Ghosts were crowded around the Ship, concealing it, protecting it with their stillness and silence.
Then the Úmaiar spoke, and its voice was the deep cold and the absolute darkness of the Abyss.
'I am Hrungnîr.'
Its name was a cold hiss of the winter wind, probing and prying and sliding between the layers of warmth to dig into the body with icy fingers, talons that tear the breath from the lungs.
'Long have we sought thee, Eldarion Hårfagre. Thou canst hide from us no longer now that Angmar is gone forever. We are free of his edict. We will have thee now.'
Suddenly, a rending crack of thunder sounded far above, in the black skies above the Tyrn Gorthad, sent a shiver through the earth. The Úmaiar paused and looked upwards as if it might see through the heaped earth to what might be the cause of such tumult. Small pebbles and rocks shifted in the roof and clattered upon the silvery deck of the ship. Hrungnîr followed the sound, stared directly at where the Ship was hidden in the mist.
Legolas dared not breathe for the beast was listening. It listened for the Ship, for the creak of timbers and flutter of sails, for the small scatter of stones shaken loose landing on the deck.
Hrungnîr circled the chamber very slowly and the weight of each step sent a shudder through the floor of the cavern. 'Hast thou seen our great army, raised from under the earth? The Agan-Uruks?' The words drove a spike of intense cold into Legolas, like the air had frozen and the mist of the ghosts seeking to protect and hide the Ship had become a veil of ice falling over him. 'Drink they the blood of Elendil and gnaw upon his bones. The Horn of Cardolan is ours, and the Mergyll-Dagnir will be destroyed.'
Legolas clamped his hand over his mouth to stop the gasp escaping his lips. Aragorn! Aragorn was here? That meant Gimli would be too. Agan-Uruks must be the skeletons of the Orcs slain in the last battle of Cardolan, he thought with horror. How could Aragorn and Gimli survive that?
'I, Hrungnîr, will take the Draken, this… last… treasure…,' the Úmaiar hissed and it ceased its slow pacing and turned towards the centre of the chamber. It rested the tip of its sword upon the earth, holding the hilt in its mailed hands. A heavy, two-handed great sword. Like that of the Nazgûl.
'Run,' Eldarion's ghost whispered to Legolas. 'You are not dead. You can escape.'
'I will not I leave you to this!" Legolas whispered back, defiantly, but it was too late anyway for the Úmaiar made a dreadful, grating sound that might have been a jeer, and lifted its great mailed fist, opened it like an invitation. It spoke one word.
'Gimûk.'
At the word, the ghosts that had been hiding the Ship began to dissolve and the dragon prow slowly appeared as if it sailed out of the mist.
'Gimûk,' said Hrungnîr again, and now the mist slid from the rest of the ship like a veil and there it was, suddenly revealed in its silvery glow and delicate elegance and strength.
'I have thy Ship now, Eldarion Hårfagre. I will devour thee utterly. And then I will devour every one of these souls that have been forbidden us until now.' The Úmaiar's voice was cold, a long whining moan that dipped and lifted like the wind over the Moors, and slipped between the clinkered hull, the smooth timbers. It lifted one mailed hand triumphantly, and dragged it along the elegant, silvered timbers of the graceful ship. There was a terrible shrieking sound of splintering wood and a gouge appeared in the ship's flanks. Another terrible gouge appeared, and a high pitched shriek of splitting timbers rent the air like a tortured scream.
Hrungnîr put one foot upon the gangway and the Ship trembled. 'Thou canst hide from me no longer, Eldarion Hårfagre.'
It took another step. The great sword in its huge, mailed fists was ancient and wound about with terrible runes and Hrungnîr raised it as if it would plunge the blade into the heart of the ship.
But the ghost of Eldarion, last Prince of Cardolan, stepped onto the gangplank and drew his own ghostly blade. There was a faint hiss as if he had unsheathed a serpent and to Legolas it sounded like Aícanaro. *
'I am done with you and your brethren, Hrungnîr,' Eldarion said, his voice low. 'The horn in the hills is still ringing. It has awoken us from the grey twilight, the ancient Kings of Old.' He stood at the top of the gangway, barring the Úmaiar from the Ship, and from Legolas.
Hrungnîr levelled his great sword at Eldarion 'We have killed thy body once and now I will devour thy soul.'
'You flatter yourself, Hrungnîr,' Eldarion said bravely. 'Where are your brethren? Do they raise the Agan- Uruks against Elendil's blood? Indeed it is strange thing that they send you from the field like a mere foot soldier to gorge yourself while they do battle. Do they know what it is you intend?'
Hrungnîr drew himself up so that he towered above Eldarion, enraged. A mouth opened in the Umaiar's face, but it was not a roar that came forth for it was an abysmal hole of utter darkness from which came the unbearable sound of distant voices screaming. Legolas almost cried out for he knew that these were the voices of the souls the Úmaiar had devoured. A shrill wind tore from the vortex, and ripped at the timbers of the Draken. Eldarion staggered back, clinging to the gunwale, trying to escape the wind that hauled at him. The screaming from the vortex intensified and long ribbons of silver, like mist, were torn from Eldarion's ghost by the vortex and disappeared into the Úmaiar's gaping maw.
Legolas too was suddenly seized by the wind. It sucked at him, dragging him so he slid a little along the deck of the ship towards the gangway. His long hair streamed around him, and his yaré-carmë seemed to almost lift from his body as if it were a living thing, coiling up into the darkness. He gripped the Ale-gezên-aozh and dug the blades into the Ship's deck, digging a long gouge into the smooth timbers for it was not enough and he was being dragged inexorably towards Hrungnîr, and the yawning abyss that was opening wider and wider. He heard the terrible screaming and the pneumatic whining of the Song of Undoing tearing at his own Song, and it too began unravelling. He grasped at the green-gold of the beech leaves and sang desperately of the roots of the great ancient oaks digging into the earth.
And then suddenly, something slipped out from between the green-gold threads of his own Song. Something that had been hiding in him, a darkness that had crouched within his fëa; it was the violence and fury that had been locked into him with that dreadful bite in the darkness of the catacombs beneath the White City.
Legolas almost, almost but did not quite, growl. He felt the same preternatural surge of strength that he had felt back in the chamber when he had been stretched on the altar. He jammed his feet against the edge of the gangway and braced himself against the wind. He did not know that there was a strange light reflecting in his eyes and he gripped the edges of the gunwale and hauled himself to his feet.
Below him, Eldarion's ghost clung to the sword he had wedged between the rails of the gangway. But he was being torn apart slowly. Long ribbons of trembling silvery light unspooled from the Prince and entwined with the Úmaiar's great mane of darkness that flowed like ink in water. Hrungnîr leaned over Eldarion, its mouth gaping wider and the screaming souls within grew shriller and shriller.
Legolas swivelled the Ale-gezên aozh in his hands so they were crossed over his naked, muscular chest and in a voice that was not at all his but was low and dark and bloody, he said, 'Sha! Bagronk!'
A surge of brutal strength filled him. 'Pushdug.'
He bared his teeth and thought that they were pointed and filled his mouth, although when he ran his red tongue over them, they were not.
Hrungnîr's pale eyes flicked upwards and widened hungrily when it saw Legolas.
They looked at each other in a strange recognition. The shrieking wind faltered and Eldarion's ghost fell to the rocky chamber floor leaving Hrungnîr and Legolas on the gangway.
'Dragûr.' The word hissed from the Úmaiar.
Legolas narrowed his green eyes and slid the blades of the Ale-gezen-aozh one against the other in a typically Silvan showiness, and then crossed them before him. He leapt at Hrungnîr, throwing his arms wide, slicing the blades across its chest. He felt the blades scrape metal armour and whirled about, just in time to deflect the great broadsword as Hrungnîr came crashing down upon him.
For the briefest of moments, Legolas closed his eyes and let the shadows take over, like the running wolves, leaping grey-silver fur and bloody mouthed in the woods, hunting and snarling. The Ale-Gezên-aozh flared with blue light as he lifted his head and although he did not know it, there was a light reflecting in his eyes that was like a wolf watching its prey in the forest. He felt a surge in his blood and his muscles bunched with a vigorous strength he had not felt since Tharbad.
He coiled his muscles and launched himself into the air, somersaulting and landing behind Hrungnîr and slashing both blades across in front of him as he landed. He struck a glancing blow only, for the Úmaiar moved quickly and slashed down. Pivoting, Legolas thrust first one blade and then the other into the grey shadows of the Úmaiar but already Hrungnîr had moved too and charged at Legolas, mouth agape and sword high.
Legolas sent a white lightning flash along the Ale Gezên-aozh and struck hard and fast and did not stop, darting away from the Barrow Wight's gaping mouth. Sparks flew from the steel blades as they slashed and cut and thrust. The great broadsword plunged down onto the Ale-gezen-aozh and this time, when it slid off the steel blades, Hrungnîr whirled it round and brought it slicing down over Legolas. He leapt away but it caught him, and a burning pain lanced through his arm. Legolas staggered and glanced down at the blood
Then Hrungnîr hissed with triumph and opened its hideous mouth, advancing upon Legolas, gaping. The shrill scream of the wind sucked at him ravenously but a mist swathed him, not the cold fog of the Úmaiar but the ghosts of Cardolan. They thronged about him, hiding him and when the great broadsword came charging wildly through the mist, Legolas was able to leap aside swiftly, landing a double blow on the shoulders of the Wight. They clanged against the mail shirt.
Roaring his frustration, Hrungnîr turned towards the ghosts of Cardolan and like a serpent, he opened his mouth wide and the vortex screamed and whirled, dragging the long ribbons of the ghosts towards it.
'No!' Legolas shouted and leapt again at the Umaiar. It turned towards him with a thin sneer and slashed down, feinting and then drawing it across. It cut into Legolas' naked torso with a hiss and he fell back. Hrungnîr followed, battering Legolas with the great broadsword until he was beaten to his knees and just caught the sword between the cross handles of his knives. He felt the weight and monstrous power of the Umair bearing down upon him. It leaned over him, mouth agape and the shrieking wind pulled at his long hair and he felt the green-gold threads, already loosened and fragile still, unspool and fly off into the whirling vortex. He felt the furious shadow in him struggle to free itself from him before they were devoured and he bent under the pressure from Hrungnîr.
Suddenly there was a mighty crash as if lightning had struck through the tumulus and into the very chamber itself. Small stones scattered onto the floor and there was a low rumble as though the whole chamber might collapse. Hrungnîr lifted its head, the mane of darkness swirled about its shoulders and it turned, staring upwards. The storm that Legolas had almost forgotten raging outside in the skies above the tumulus, seemed to hammer the hill so it shook and a dreadful wind howled above and seemed to scream into the burial mound itself, shrieking through the tunnels and chambers of the tumulus. The Úmaiar's' pale eyes flashed urgently over the chamber and then suddenly it turned and with one bound, it shoved its way back through the rubble and boulders of the shattered rock and was gone.
Legolas collapsed to the floor, panting. He rolled onto his knees and gripped the hilts of the Ale-gezên-aogh. Shaking, he took great gulping breaths and slowly blinked, his eyes focused on the blades, on the leaves etched onto the mithril and steel, the runes. Slowly he stopped trembling and looked about himself.
The Ghost of Eldarion, the Last Prince, stood at the shattered rockface, looking out into the tunnels beyond. About him, thronged the tattered remains of the ghostly army of Cardolan.
Legolas did not move. What had happened? Why had Hrungnîr left so abruptly? What had happened? But also, Legolas was afraid; he had been seized by something, something lurking inside him of which he had not truly been aware.
No, it whispered softly, menacingly. That is not true. You knew I was here. You just did not want to look.
Legolas breathed hard; even greater fear gripped him . Was this the Ghoul? Was HE becoming a Ghoul? He swallowed and looked at his hands. They looked normal, not elongated or taloned.
Eldarion was saying something and Legolas forced himself to listen. '…What has been happening out there? Something so momentous that Hrungnîr left at the very moment it might have destroyed us all. Could it truly be the End of Days? Is that why we have been woken?' The Ghost turned to Legolas. 'What did it say to you? Dragûr? I do not know what that means but I see that it means something to you. But you risked yourself for me and I thank you. Come. We must find the Horn of Cardolan and aid the one who sounds it. We have driven off Hrungnîr for now but it will return and this time, with the brethren.'
Slowly, Legolas got to his feet. A little dazed. The darkness and shadow that was in him seemed to stand upright, looking out of his own eyes. He felt disorientated, like he was looking back at himself. He thought he saw his own face stretch in an unfamiliar grin and then, the shadow sank back and slowly crouched down again.
0o0o
In the lightning, Pippin could see a tall black horse was trampling very bad temperedly one of the few remaining and intact Orc skeletons in the immediate vicinity. It had seized the Orc by its scapula in its strong teeth and was throwing it violently and repeatedly against the standing stone so its bones were shattered. The horse then cantered about with its tail high and its nose in the air, trampling bones into the mud. Pippin thought it had a venomous and malicious delight in its rolling eyes.
Erestor had risen to his feet and was flicking away bits of grass and mud from his long cloak that Pippin could see that it was lined with thick fur, silver and black. Not bear or deer or wolf. Maybe a Warg. It would not surprise Pippin.
Erestor thrust a hand out to Pippin and pulled him to his feet. 'Well met, Master Peregrine Took,' he said more formally than his previous greeting.
'Well met indeed, Master Erestor,' Pippin said very cheerfully. 'I really thought you were some terrible servants of Sauron until I heard your voice and never has a voice sounded more lovely than yours!'
Erestor bowed with a flourish. He grinned, a scary, white-toothed grin that just reminded Pippin more and more of the Wolf in the stories of unwary Hobbits leaving the path in the Woods. But I suppose I have already left the path, he thought to himself wryly. There was a ring of shattered bones lying in a circle nearby. They did not move. Pippin hoped it was because the Orthanc fire that Erestor had lobbed into them had destroyed the spell that animated them.
Pippin looked about and saw that Aragorn too had struggled upright and was leaning against Gimli. They were coming towards Erestor and Pippin but too slowly and there were skeletons already running after them. There was blood on Aragorn's head and down one side of his face.
'Quick! Aragorn!' shouted Pippin. 'Gimli! Run!'
Elladan was on his way to them, running swiftly, leaping over the shattered bones and discarded weapons.
'Hm. I think we had better take care of those. They look a bit too lively,' said Erestor calmly. He reached into a leather satchel he had slung over his shoulder and drew out a small round metal sphere with a fuse sticking out of it. 'This is a sort of… bomb, as the Dwarves call them,' he explained. 'I heard about them in Erebor and had a few made up out of Orthanc fire.' He struck a tinderbox and lit the fuse. 'They are useful but I don't have many left.'
He called out, 'Elladan! Take cover!'
He lobbed the bomb into the air and it flew over Elladan's head as he raced towards Aragorn and Gimli and pushed them down into the grass, cradling Aragorn as he did. It soared over Aragorn's head and landed amongst the Orcs.
The bomb fizzed and sputtered for a bit and the skeletons looked down at it for a moment and then…
BOOM
The sound reverberated through the ground and when the dust and bits of flying bone settled, there was a small crater and a lot of bones.
'Unfortunately the effect will only be temporary,' Erestor said as if they were merely discussing afternoon tea in Hobbiton. 'I think it will only stun them for a while, maybe disperse the bones enough to slow them down but no more than this.'
A glint caught Pippin's eye and he leaned down to pull the Mergyll-Dagnir from between the shattered fingers of an Orc. There was the saddlebag containing the Palantir too and he felt a strange excitement at its proximity and pulled it towards him.
Lightning cracked over the tumulus and thunder rolled around the moor. Pippin didn't know if it was Orthanc fire or actual thunder. He looked up to the summit of the Great Barrow where the thunder and lightning seemed to be focused.
The whole hillside lit up with a huge flash of sheet lightning. High on the hill's summit, were two very tall figures that struggled with a far smaller figure. Pippin could just make out the glint of armour and swords.
Suddenly all was plunged back into darkness, and they could see nothing but the thunder growled and rumbled and cracked and the wind howled and whined.
Frodo cried out. 'Is that Elrohir?'
Elladan turned with a gasp and looked up to the summit of the hill.
'I cannot see! Was that Vanwë or Elrohir? I could not tell.' Pippin gazed up at the hillside.
A hand pulled Pippin around suddenly and he spun to see that Erestor was staring down at him in shock, all humour was gone, and his face devastated. 'What did you say?' Erestor
said, almost breathless.
Pippin tried to pull away for he was suddenly afraid for Erestor's narrow face with its sharp, vulpine features were intensely focused upon Pippin 'Vanwë is up there with Elrohir. They have gone after the Barrow Wights.'
'Vanwë? You are certain that is his name?'
Merry said, 'He's the Elf who drove off the Barrow Wight that had attacked me on Buckland Beacon. And then he drove them off when they attacked Sam. Now he's helping us to rescue Legolas and Baranor.'
'Legolas?' Erestor snapped.
'Legolas came with Gimli and I to help look for Merry when we had the message to say he was missing,' Aragorn started to explain, 'And Baranor was with Elrohir.' He looked a little uncomfortable. 'They were looking for the Palantir of Amon Sul.'
Understanding touched Elladan's face then, but Erestor threw a hand out as if he needed to steady himself. 'I must go,' he said briefly and then he began striding off, whistling for his black horse that came like a lamb and stood still while Erestor swung astride. He glanced back at them briefly, but Elladan had caught his own horse and already had his foot in the stirrup. 'No! Elladan! They need you here.'
'No they don't,' Elladan said firmly. 'Elrohir needs me and so do you.' And he was mounted before Erestor could protest further.
With a devastated look, Erestor flung his satchel towards Gimli. 'Use this,' he shouted. 'And get yourselves away from here. You cannot defeat this army of bones.' Erestor turned about, drew his sword so the lightning blazed along it. He didn't wait for any answer but charged off towards the barrow, Elladan following close behind.
'Ach, you don't think I'm going to be happy with that,' Gimli said, looking at Aragorn, and planted himself with his arms folded. 'I'll see the Hobbits safe and then I'll be going into that barrow to dig out my friend.'
Pippin looked at them all. Dods had pulled Iberic into his arms and watched Aragorn with a tear-stained and exhausted face. Sam was injured and leaned against Frodo and Merry stood slightly in front of them with a scavenged sword for the orcs had stolen both his and Sam's daggers. Pippin clasped his more tightly.
'What do we do, Aragorn?' Frodo asked. 'Baranor is in there.' He nodded towards the gaping entrance of the barrow. 'And Legolas. We're not going to just leave them there.'
Aragorn turned to them and nodded grimly. 'Very well. We go in. But you, my friend,' he addressed Dods, 'You have had enough.' He took Roheryn's reins and came to stand next to Dods. 'Roheryn will take you out of here. You only have to hold on' He gave a smile and stroked the horse's smooth neck. 'It is all I have ever had to do.'
Dods nodded tearfully and Aragorn and Gimli pushed him up into the saddle and then handed Iberic up to him. Then Gimli pushed an Orthanc bomb into his hand. 'In case you need it,' he said. 'Wait for a moment while I clear the way for you and then go.'
The Dwarf lit a fuse of another bomb and then ran a little way from the stone and hurled it towards the avenue of standing stones that led out of the Iaun-Gynd. There was a BOOM and rows upon row upon row of skeletons fell and Roheryn leapt away with his charges on his back. He cantered smoothly and swiftly, not a single misstep and they saw the horse break through a knot of Orcs and charge out of the stone circle and beyond.
Gimli turned back to the hobbits.
"Right then. Let's find that Elf of ours,' he said and turned towards the entrance of the Barrow.
0o0o0o