A/N: I'm truly sorry that I had to let out the episode with Treebard, and as you'll notice, also the one with Isengard and Saruman. There wouldn't have been significant changes in comparison to the books and so I decided just to let it be. I also won't change my timeline, so there will be no day missing – and the days are just continuing as I wrote. I am truly sorry for that, but I guess that "fanfiction" does not mean just to re-write whole chapters from Tolkien.

Also, as you might have noticed in chapter 5 and as you'll notice now, I'm not yet sure how to describe Gandalf. He's still not the way I want him to be, but I hope that this will improve with coming chapters. He's still too emotional in my liking, especially at one point in this chapter, but I could not let that out since it'll be important in one of the next.

Also, I want to thank: Goddess Morrigan, Stacey, Nili, zinc5, Alyce, LT, Abigail da Jedi, Mona, whit, alawa, Whitney, AJ Matthews, willie, S, Elenil, singe aliene de piano, Julia, aralondwen, and – especially – Cailinn *g* for all your wonderful reviews!! You make me happy.

Please don't forget to review!!!

Disclaimer: Oh, just the same as always: I don't own characters, circumstances…. everything belongs to Master Tolkien.

Three days to Edoras

In the next morning the old wizard woke his comrades early, and after a fast breakfast they were on their way again. After an hour's walk they arrived at the northern bank of the Entwash, the old river which rose in the far north-eastern end of Fangorn and crossed Rohan until it divided into many smaller streams which mouthed into the Anduin. For a while they stood there and watched the water leaping over the stones. Its murmur brought comfort to them and they felt their fears falling off their hearts and hope returning.

"Let's cross the river," Gimli suggested after a while, "our aim is still far away and the way doesn't get shorter just from standing there."

The Hobbits laughed and even Legolas grinned. The thought of their way shrinking by remaining here at Entwash was just too amusing to keep silent. Only Gandalf showed no reaction, the burden of his friend's fate weighed too heavy upon him.

Legolas stepped into the water first and was surprised by its strength. Although the river's source was not far away, it already was a fast stream and he hardly managed to stay on his feet. "Be careful, my friends," he called. "Watch yourselves!"

The others nodded and followed the Elf. The water was cold and the Hobbits shivered as they had reached the other bank. "It would have been easier if we still had the boats," Pippin muttered.

His silent complaint was left unanswered and ere long the company was on its way again. They marched on in silence for the whole morning. It was November 30th and people would not have to wait long for snow anymore.

The early winter sun rose into the sky, and soon after it had reached its peak, Gandalf called for a short halt. They had a frugal meal ere they set out again. Gandalf lead them in a straight way southward towards Edoras, the city in which Théoden son of Thengel, King of the Mark of Rohan, dwelt. The wizard wanted to reach the Golden Hall in three days at the latest. There they would be able to rest for one or two nights before taking on the last part of their way to Minas Tirith. Gandalf could tell that the Hobbits needed at least one day without walking, otherwise they would break soon. Never before they or one of their people had covered such a lot of leagues in such a short time as they had on their walk through Rohan.

In the late afternoon Gandalf suddenly began to speak  For the whole time before he had only said the absolutely necessary things, but he had not taken part in some conversation. His voice now was grave and earnest and the words came slowly out of his mouth as if he had forgotten how to talk and had to remember it again.

"When I am picturing Aragorn in my mind," he said completely out of connection, "I imagine him as I have often seen him in Rivendell, especially when he had been younger. A man whose eyes are sparkling and no fear can be seen in them. The wind is in his hair and a smile upon his face." The wizard paused for a moment.

"He was a bright and good hearted young man. With the years passing, though, he became more solemn and mature and his smile vanished as his burden grew. But still in some moments when he lets his guard fall down, you can see it again appearing on his face and you understand why Arwen, daughter of Elrond half-Elven, surrounded by the fairest of the Fair People fell in love with him. To her, she once said, he is like the spring for the land after a long and cold winter, like the first sunray after months of rain, like the first smile after weeks of grief and tears…" The old man's voice trailed away, the memory consuming his words. Legolas shortly glanced at Gimli. 'Can you imagine Aragorn like that?' he seemed to say. The Dwarf was just about to shake his head when Gandalf suddenly continued.

"You may not be able to imagine him like this, but I can tell you, that this man has a soul as deep as the waters of Kheled-zâram. From the outside, when you are just looking at its surface you may not be able to see a lot save the things he wants you to see, but the ones who can get a closer look will find a man with intense feelings for the people he cares about."

Gimli, Legolas and the Hobbits almost nodded in unison. "There have been many occasions I had to rely on him," the Dwarf then said, "I do not know whether I would have been able to keep a clear mind after we had left the mines of Moria. He, however, managed this and led us to the safety of Lothlórien although I could see that his grief had been great."

"In some moments, though," Legolas objected, "the man himself appeared on the surface and the warrior vanished.  Then you could catch sight of his feelings, were it grief, anger, worry or love. He is not made of stone, although I believe, that sometimes he would like it to be. Then nothing would be able to touch him anymore and he would be protected from the doubts in himself. Those, I think, are at times almost consuming and he hates them. He is terribly afraid that he will not be able to match his fathers and their deeds, that he will succumb to the Ring's power just like Isildur, that he will not be able to do what he is supposed to, be that leading Men to war, or becoming their later king if Sauron can be defeated. Those doubts have preoccupied Aragorn's mind for a long time and although he is not Elvish, I was able to feel them in some way. His emotions, his guilt were so strong at times that I could sense them and it made me feel uncomfortable. He wants to be seen as a strong man, as a warrior, as a leader and I do not think that he would have liked it, if he had known that, in a way, I could look into his soul and perceive his hidden feelings."

Gandalf nodded. "He indeed does not want that everyone can see what he truly thinks. Often he shields his opinion and believes against the people surrounding him and a long time it takes to earn his trust. But then, if you have won him as a friend, you cannot have a better one, for he is there for you when you need him and he would sacrifice his life in order to protect yours." The wizard paused for a moment and glanced at the two Hobbits. They had a hard time following their comrades and stumbled to stay on their feet.

"Today, my little friends, we will not go further," Gandalf said after a minute of thinking, "you are weary and it has become dark. Light a fire and rest then, your deeds in the past days have been great."

A slow smile spread over Pippin's face. He was relieved for he could not have walked for long anymore, but never had he dared to utter his wish to rest. Since they had left the Anduin five days ago, everyone had pressed on haste. Legolas even more than Gandalf right now, but the young Hobbit respected both for such a great deal, that he had never questioned their decisions.

After a short meal everyone had fallen asleep soon. Even Gimli had been tired and had not complained about Gandalf's offer to take the first and second watch. Legolas had wanted to object, though, but the wizard had turned him down briskly. Not wanting to argue with his friend, the Elf had given up and cast himself onto the ground. The night became cold, a chill wind was blowing across the land. The comrades wrapped themselves into their cloaks but still they were resting uncomfortably. As they had left Rivendell, no one had thought about winter coming so soon, their way had led them southward and no tree had already begun to color its leaves.

"Mordor's power increased faster than I have ever thought to," Gandalf muttered to himself while watching the fire. "Far in the south are we and November has not come to its end yet, but snow lies in the air, I feel." He looked up into the sky. Clear was it, no clouds were covering it, and the stars shone brightly. In the east Gandalf could distantly make out the Crown of the Kings from the Sea, seven stars forming the shape of a winged helmet and in the West, hardly visible, three stars above the mountain peaks indicated the place where the White Ship of Valinor would be sailing across the sky if nothing had blocked Gandalf's sight.

'Aragorn, oh Aragorn, my friend, where are you now? Are you still alive? Or has the Dark Lord already killed you? Alas, I am only thinking about you and not about any other things which should occupy my mind. I know, that you have great strength and great will, but what is Sauron doing to you? Almost I wish, that you are already dead and you had not to suffer for long. Forgive me, my friend. The least thing I wanted would be your death, but I fear for you and I am in great worry. Often have I heard about the kinds of torture Sauron is using and only by listening my blood froze in my veins. And now, now I have to picture you in my mind. You are being tortured in the way most cruelest of all. What is he doing to you? Does he beat you? Does he whip you? Or is he doing things I cannot even imagine? Things, only invented to inflict as much pain as possible. Slowly destroying your body but never killing you? I pray for a bearable death for you, my friend. I have been thinking about anything to help you, but no idea came to my mind. Forgive me. I am not worthy of being your friend. Once in your lifetime you do really need my and what am I doing? I am journeying through the lands with an Elf, a Dwarf and two Hobbits. I am doing not anything to help you. Not even a desperate try to free you. Forgive me, my friend. I cannot offer you hope for I have none. Not even something to quiet the voice in my mind that keeps telling me ´you should do something`. But what? I have been thinking about it, I have done nothing else since Legolas told me of your fate. I would take your pain, if I could. Believe me, my friend. You are precious to me, your company kept my travels bearable. Without you, there surely had been a point I had given up to fight. The battle against the Enemy would have been senseless for me. But there you have been. You gave me hope and a reason to fight. You should become King of Gondor, but instead you have fallen into the Unnamed's hands and there is no hope for you. Forgive me, my friend, I have failed you. The trust you have placed in me was useless. I am free and you are suffering. I have seen people who had been whipped and they were a mess. Not only their bodies but their eyes. So full of pain, anger, hate. The thing I always admired in you, was the calmness in your eyes. A look into them and things seemed to be right. Often I saw love in them and always friendship for me. But what is the torture doing to you? I fear that not only your body suffers, but also your soul. And that would be the greatest victory the Dark Lord could ever achieve. Destroying your soul, my friend. I pray for a bearable death and that includes keeping your soul. I beg you to try that, it would be the only thing that could keep me sane. To know that you had not given up yourself and that you fought Sauron even in death, despite what he did to you. I am not able to imagine the pain you have to suffer and believe me, I would take it for you, if you were to life then. Arwen is waiting in Rivendell and, the worst, you know it and cannot do anything to return. The pain you have to feel must be great. For your whole life you have been waiting for her and now, when your dream was about to come true, your world was shattered and so was Arwen´s. But still I wish that you are dead by now. Maybe the Unnamed grew impatient and killed you with a stab into your heart. I hope that so much. I know there is no hope for you and then a fast and painless death is still better than the one you are facing. But deep in my heart I feel that the last thing Sauron wants to do, is, to kill you soon and without pain. Forgive me, my friend, I cannot help you. Desperately I want block the images of your suffering out of my mind but in every waking and sleeping moment they are haunting me. I see your eyes, often full of hate, pain and anger and sometimes without life. I see your face shouting at me 'Why did you not help me?' I see your body lying on the cold floor, covered with blood. Aragorn, my friend, I have failed you. I should suffer instead of you.'

The wizard clenched his fists and gritted his teeth. His whole mind was full of worry, fear, hate and anger about himself. He could do nothing to help his friend. But he could admit these feelings merely in the nights. Never would he have dared showing them to the others. Legolas surely suspected something and Gimli had never been naïve, but the Hobbits should not worry about him. They always looked upon him as their leader and guide, and they would have a hard time to get to know that often he also did not know what to do, what was right. That he often felt helpless.

Briskly he stood up and stretched for a moment. Then he again bent down and touched Legolas' shoulder. The Elf stirred and opened his eyes.

"May you take over my watch?" Gandalf asked quietly. Legolas shortly glanced at the wizard but nodded without saying anything. Gandalf cast himself on his blanket and tried to fall asleep. Maybe he would get relieved of his worries for some time. Sleep meant oblivion.

Morning came too soon for the comrades and the Hobbits were still yawning after the company had set out again. The chill wind from the night before had increased in strength and walking was almost an effort. Still, they continued for hours and hours and the break at noon was too short to relax their feet for some time.

Their way led them almost straight southward across the bare plains of the Eastfold of Rohan. In the late afternoon Legolas spotted a herd of horses in the distance but the others could only see the dust raised by them. A host of men, Gimli guessed, that was in great haste.

This day Gandalf called for a halt late in the evening. It had become dark long before, but the wizard seemed to know his way exactly and the others had no fear of being led astray. Their trust in him was great and they followed him without questioning his skills.

This night even Gimli groaned as he was finally able to sit down while Legolas was gathering dry branches for fire.

"Never have I been so tired before," he said. "I have not felt weariness even in the mines of Moria where the darkness lay heavy upon your spirits, but now my feet torment me and beg for rest."

A gentle smile softened Gandalf´s features.

"My Dwarf, you have been stout and now it is no shame to admit your tiredness. I myself feel not fresh anymore, and you know that I have journeyed across the lands long before you were born." He paused for a moment.

"But you may be happy to hear that we will only have to walk on for one more day. Then we will be able to rest in Edoras for some time," Gandalf added while Legolas lit the fire and everyone settled around it. Its warmth made their weariness more bearable and the Dwarf's mood had improved. They had eaten in silence, but now Gimli got his pipe out of his pack and offered each a bit of his weed. Thankfully not having to spend their own, the others accepted it with great pleasure.

Gandalf wrapped his cloak around him and sent from his lips a thin stream of smoke.   "Théoden, King of Rohan, has known me since the day he was born and often I came to bring tidings to the Golden Hall. He will offer us beds and food, we do not need to fear while we will be staying there. I hope, though, that the Men of Minas Tirith, who have been sharing a long and deep friendship with the Rohirrim, have already sent for the King and his Riders to come to their aid. Great battles are and will be fought in Gondor, and everyone who can wield a sword, spear or bow is needed. If no call for aid has come from Minas Tirith, though, I will talk to Théoden to send out his people, and that will not be easy despite the long alliance between the two peoples. Théoden son of Thengel has become old and weary and is not eager to take part in fight, be it himself or his Riders. You, however, must not dare to believe that the Rohirrim lack of courage, they surely do not, but like good people shall do, they follow their king's orders and do not listen to others. But Théoden must be roused out of his sleep, if he does not send out a host, doom may come to Middle Earth sooner than anyone thought to."

Interested Gimli looked up. "Often have I heard other people praising the Rohirrim for their courage in battle, for their skill with horses but also not less for the outstanding men coming from their people."

"So I did, either," Legolas agreed. "Even among my kindred in the depths of Mirkwood there are told tales of their deeds, although they are only Men."

"And these tales are true, certainly, for the Men of Rohan are no less than the Men of Gondor," Gandalf explained. "Only their king is of less lineage, for the ancient leaders of Minas Tirith once had come over the Great Sea from the west long before the Rohirrim awakened from their sleep. In the time Eorl the Young became the first King of the Mark, Númenor already was far beyond its greatest glory and only the Chieftains of the Dúnedain were still there to remind the peoples of their fathers. But still the Rohirrim have developed into a great people and their warriors have come to honor all over Middle Earth." Gandalf paused for a moment.

"But today I will not tell you further, for I am weary and my body asks for rest. You may wake me, though, for a later watch."

His comrades nodded. During the whole day they had noticed Gandalf's tiredness and often had he stumbled. Something they had never experienced before. The wizard always had been a strong leader and guide, and even in the most perilous situations he had never shown any sign of being exhausted. For whole nights he had sat watching and had the others get their sleep. Now they were glad to be able to repay him. With a short exchange of glances they agreed on not waking Gandalf this night.

In the meanwhile the wizard had cast himself down on his blanket and wrapped his cloak around him. Again he was looking for the relief that only came with sleep. Not in one single waking moment his thoughts had left Aragorn, his friend.

A/N: Please review, and perhaps you can tell me how to improve Gandalf…. would be great!