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Explosively did Legolas awake his companions, and even as they jumped to attention, he told them, "Strange things wait for us at the borders of the forest. Good or ill, I know not, but we must go!" And so the group began their journey once more. Finally they came upon the tracks of the Orcs, trampled thickets and grasses. Aragorn bent down to examine them as the group stopped. "They rested here yes. But the trail is already old. Your heart spoke truly Legolas, though it has been many hours since they stood here. If they hold to their pace," Aragorn stopped, unwilling to speak. "If they held to their pace they would reach Fangorn by sundown yesterday." Aria spoke up. Aragorn sighed and rubbed his hands over his eyes. "I can see nothing here. If we climbed the hills could we see the forest?" Gimli asked. "It is still far away. Unless my memory deceives me, these downs run eight leagues or more to the north, and there north-west lies a wide land. Then another fifteen leagues perhaps." Aragorn said, pointing down to the hills below them. "Then let us go. My feet need to forget the miles, and I must say it would be easier, if my heart was not so heavy.
Aria watched the travelers from her position at the back of the group. Gimli's back was bent, then he straightened it in an attempt to not display his weariness. He was tired, Aria could tell. His stout legs could take many things, but this journey was exhausting and it was beginning to take its toll on him. Aria smiled with pity upon the figure of Aragorn, too proud to bend his back, but still weary none the less. His figure still remained tall and noble, but his spirit betrayed him. Only she and Legolas moved as if they had taken a long rest. Even at this moment, Aria had been lost in Elven dreams, dreams of her past, of the wooded trails of Lothlorien, of the beauty of Rivendell. All this she had dreamed while still awake, and she felt as rested as a young child after a nap. "Come, let us go up this hill!" Legolas said cheerily. The group followed him and looked down at the expanse of ground below them. By that time, dusk was reigning and all was beginning to be covered in darkness. "Well we can see nothing. I suppose we must now stop and rest." Gimli said grudgingly. "Yes, rest if you must. But keep your hope, for tomorrow is unknown." Legolas said, casting a knowing smile in Aria's direction. "Yes, very often there is hope in the rising sun." Aria countered. Gimli turned a weary eye first on Legolas, then to Aria. "Three suns have come and gone with no hope whatsoever." He said grimly.
That night as they rested beneath the skies, the stars shone through, bright in the canopy of black that served as their keeper. Legolas paced back and forth, his head ever up, drinking in the sight of the stars and skies above him. His companions however, slept in a deep sleep, all save Aria. From sheer exhastion, her eyes had closed, but the green paths of Rivendell did not assail her vision, nor did the spiral staircases of Lothlorien. Only one thing plagued her, a great eye, watchful, all-seeing, all-knowing. She saw herself standing alone, the one person in the path of the great eye. It's gaze was clapped upon her figure and no matter how hard she tried to shield herself from its gaze, it still saw her. But suddenly, another figure joined her in the fiery light. Frodo stumbled on the flaming grass beneath him, his face anguished as the eye moved swiftly towards him. Aria tried to call his name, but ash and flame stifled her voice, choking her. But he heard the choke and even as he turned toward her, he slowly slipped the ring from his finger, leaving the Elf-maiden alone. As he disappeared, another face assailed her vision. A face, a voice that so filled her with dread that she tried to run. But again, she fell and the face came closer. Dark, an almost reptilian face, reptilian agility, the glow of green in the large eyes as he came closer, his mouth moving, though she could not hear the words. As a scream rose in her throat, Aria's eyes snapped open. As she sat alone, she finally heard the words the creature had uttered that had filled her with such dread. Precious. MY Precious.
The white stars above her, sang a song of joy, the grasses beneath her waved melodically, and Legolas beside her, sang of the glories of Mirkwood. She sat up, then looked at the Elf's figure a few feet away from her. He stood alone, his hands on his hips, a smile on his face as he gently sang songs in his native tongue. Even in her frightened mind was Aria able to pick out the verse he sang.
Hail paths of Mirkwood!
Hail your leaves of green!
Abounding are the flowers,
That fall upon your paths.
Great are the people of Mirkwood,
Who sing and praise among you.
No greater sound is this,
Than the sound of the falling stream.
No greater tone is this,
Than that of the wind among the trees.
No greater love is this,
That I have for thee.
My love for Mirkwood,
Surpasses anything.
Aria smiled at the sound of her native language, so smooth, so soothing. As Legolas almost whispered the last words of the song, his tone died out and his eyes were fixed upon the stars. Aria stood and walked unsteadily beside him. He turned to face her, his eyes shining. "The stars simply beg for a song Aria. They desire company on this night." He whispered, his eyes looking back to the skies. Aria smiled and followed his gaze. "Your troubled heart beats louder than thunder little Estel." Legolas murmured without looking down at Aria. Aria shook her head and looked away from the sky. "It is nothing." She whispered. Legolas looked down at her, his eyes wise and knowing. "I know you think of the Eye. But as you have said before, it is not you his eye is fixed upon. It is Frodo and the Ring. So why do you trouble yourself about his gaze?" Legolas asked quietly. "Because, it is his gaze that can destroy my people. My world. Everything and everyone I care about." Aria said earnestly. "Legolas, no matter how this turns out, I am affected. One way or another, we all are affected. If Frodo fails, we will die." She whispered.
Legolas cocked his head slightly, but said nothing. "You know this friend. You must know this." Aria whispered. "The shadow grows greatly in my mind. Whatever shadow that shall fall upon us, shall fall soon." Legolas murmured, his voice steady, but his tone worried. "This shadow will not fall over me, or any of us. We will find the hobbits, we will see Sam and Frodo again. We will do this!" Aria whispered harshly. Legolas smiled and looked down at her. "Are you speaking these words to convince me, or your own heart?" He asked. Aria stared at him in confusion. Legolas did not speak of the shocked face and eyes that stared at him, but simply smiled. "You too friend, know this to be true." He whispered, echoing Aria's own words from a moment before. "You speak truth Legolas. I must convince my own heart if I am to go any farther. Perhaps, my path lies aside from this one." She whispered. Legolas turned to her sharply. "You would not leave us. Not after we've come this far." Aria shook her head. "No, I would not. I have come this far and I will stay on course. But it is a puzzle that I must understand myself, for only I can provide the pieces." She whispered. The two Elves stood that way for a long time, staring at each other, then back at the gently waning moon, as the Emperor of the skies, the sun, began to rise into the heavens. Gimli watched them from his spot on the ground. He shook his head and grunted. Aragorn opened his eyes, unable to sleep and looked to Gimli. "What is it Dwarf?" He asked sleepily. Gimli looked back at the Elves and shook his head again. "There are two things I dislike Aragorn. One being an Elf, though I can stand Legolas to some extent, but do you know what is worse?" Aragorn shook his head. "Two Elves." Gimli grumbled.
Aragorn awoke not long after, just as the sun's rays pierced the sky. He stood then squinted in the morning light. He frowned, then dropped to the ground, peering through the grasses. Legolas stood above him, shading his eyes as he looked in the same direction. Gimli, finally having arisen, saw them peering into the distance and joined them. "Where is the Elf-maiden? Has she tired of the hunt already?" Gimli asked Legolas. Before the Elf could reply, Aria answered from behind Gimli. "Hardly Master Dwarf. I never abandon a fight." Gimli started slightly, then grunted as he looked into the distance. "Riders." He said in surprise. "Yes, many of them." Aragorn murmured, squinting. "There are one hundred and five. Their hair is golden, and their leader is very tall." Legolas said, turning to Aragorn. Aragorn smiled, placing his hand on the Elf's shoulder. "Keen are the eyes of the Elves." He said with satisfaction. Legolas frowned and shrugged. "No, they are only a little over five leagues away." He said in confusion. "Five leagues or not, we cannot escape them. What do we do Aragorn?" Gimli asked. "We will wait here. They are traveling down the Orc-trail and perhaps can tell us something." Aragorn replied, settling down in the grass where he might be easily spotted. "I see three empy saddles, but no hobbits." Legolas said sadly. "I did not say that we would receive good news, but good or bad, we shall wait here." Aragorn said firmly. Legolas, Gimli and Aria drew their cloaks around them and seated themselves beside Aragorn, waiting for the riders.
The time passed slowly as they sat there alone, waiting for the riders. "Do you know anything of these men Aragorn? Or are we waiting here for certain death?" Gimli asked uneasily. "I have been among them. They are proud and willfull, but generous in thought and deed, they are bold, but not cruel, they are wise, but are unlearned, writing no books, but singing songs as in the days of old. They are the Riders of Rohan and thankfully for us, they do not love the Orcs." Aragorn said simply. "There is rumor that they have given tribute to Mordor." Gimli said, still uneasy. "I refuse to believe it." Aragorn said with confidence. "Well, believe it or not, we shall soon find out. They approach." Legolas whispered. As the riders approached, Aria leaned over towards Aragorn and whispered, "Aragorn, would you not reveal my identity? For I desire this to remain secret, as the men of these parts and many other places fear my sister and myself." Aragorn nodded, his attention distracted as the riders rode up to them.
The riders rode up, quick and hard, though they did not see the travelers in front of them. As they began to move away, Aragorn stood. "What news from the North, Riders of Rohan?" Like lightening, the men checked their steeds and as the companions stood they found themselves surrounded in a circle of horsemen. The men stared hard at them, their bows and arrows pointed at the companions' hearts. The leader, a tall man, advanced till his spear was within a foot of Aragorn's chest. But Aragorn did not move. The leader cocked his head and stared hard at Aragorn. "Who are you, and why are you in this land?" He asked in the Common Tongue. Aragorn nodded and replied. "I am called Strider. I am hunting Orcs." Aragorn said simply. The Rider frowned, tossed his spear to another and leapt off his horse, drawing his sword as he walked closer to Aragorn. "At first I thought that you yourselves were Orcs, but now I perceive you are not. You truly know little about hunting the Orcs if you go about in this fashion. They travel hard and at a great speed, if you had overtaken them, you would have become the hunted. But there is something strange about you Strider." The Rider's forehead furrowed as he surveyed Aragorn. "Your rainment is strange, as is your very name. How came you to go unoticed by us? Are you Elven folk?" The Rider asked curiously.
"No, only two of our company are of the race of Elves. Legolas from the Woodland Realm of distant Mirkwood and Aria from Rivendell. But indeed, we have passed through Lothlorien and have received gifts from the Lady of the Wood." Aragorn said smoothly. Aria nodded as the Rider looked first upon Legolas, then Aria. Even as the Rider gazed upon them, his eyes changed from fluid movements to a rock hard stare. "So the stories are true. The Lady of the Wood does exist. Few escape her nets they say, but if you have and you have her favor, perhaps you too are sorcerers and net-weavers." He said, his voice becoming flinty. Aria raised her eyebrows as she heard the Rider's speech and shook her head. "I would watch what you say." Aragorn murmured under his breath. The Rider did not reply to Aragorn, but instead looked down upon the now hardened faces of Gimli and Legolas.
"Why do you not speak, silent ones?" The Rider asked. Gimli stood at a stance, his feet apart, his hand gripping his battle axe hard, his other hand clenched into a fist, and as he spoke, his dark eyes flashed. "Give me your name first, and I'll give you mine, and more besides." Gimli murmured harshly. The Rider frowned and stared hard at Gimli. "Normally it should be the stranger that performs this act, but nevertheless, I am called Eomer, son of Eomund, and am called the Third Marshal of the RiderMark." The Rider said, pride echoing his tones. "Well Eomer, son of Eomund, Third Marshal of the RiderMark, let Gimli, son of Gloin warn you against foolish words. You speak of that which is fair beyond the reach of your thought, and only little wit can excuse you. Especially since you speak in front of her Ladyship's sister herself!" Gimli said angrily. Aria placed a gentle, but firm hand on Gimli's shoulder. "Gimli, let it pass." She whispered. "I will not! He has offended the name of the Lady of Lorien, and that shall not stand!" Gimli whispered back, his eyes blazing.
Eomer had since advanced towards Gimli, his men behind him, spears raised, but now he stopped. "I would cut off your head, beard and all Master Dwarf, if it stood but a little higher from the ground." Eomer said angrily. "He stands not alone. You would die before your stroke fell." Eomer turned to face an Elven arrow pointed straight at his heart, Legolas' sturdy hand behind it. "Legolas, enough! He knows not what he says!" Aria said urgently, but neither Dwarf nor Elf strayed from their course. Eomer looked at Aria and she stared back at him. The man had ignored Gimli's comment about her, thinking it a joke to intimidate him, but now he knew that it was true. Aria's eyes bore into him as he came closer towards them. Whether it was fright or anger, Eomer raised his sword against them, his eyes blazing, but Aragorn stepped lithely between them. "I am sorry Eomer! When you know more, you will understand why you have angered my companions, but in the meantime, we mean no ill will towards Rohan or its folk. Will you not listen to us before you start a battle?" Aragorn asked quietly, but persuasively.
Eomer eyed Aragorn, then lowered his sword. "I will. But first tell me your name." Eomer said. "First, tell me whom you serve. Are you with or against Sauron, the Dark Lord?" Aragorn asked. "I serve only the Lord of the Mark, Theoden, son of Thengel. Who are you? And who do you serve? Why do you hunt Orcs in our land?" Eomer demanded. "The Orcs we pursue took two captives, our friends. I am called Aragorn, son of Arathorn, and am called Elessar, the Elfstone, Dunadan, the heir of Isildur Elendil's son of Gondor! Are you with me or against me?" At this moment, Aragorn threw off his cloak and stood there, majestic with the sun at his back, a stunning picture. Eomer stared at Aragorn in astonishment. "These indeed are strange days, that dreams and legends spring up from the ground." Eomer smiled and placed his hand across his chest. "Lord, what brings you here?"
Aragorn took a step closer to Eomer, his eyes intense. "You may say this to Theoden, open war lies before him, with Sauron or against him. I need help. Can you tell me of the Orcs that we were pursuing?" Aragorn asked. "You need not search for them any longer. The Orcs are destroyed." Eomer said swiftly. Aria drew in her breath and looked from Eomer to Aragorn. Aragorn's eyes showed his surprise, but his face did not betray him. "And our friends?" Eomer shrugged. "We found none but Orcs." Eomer said, furrowing his forehead. "Did you search the bodies of the dead? Were there no other bodies, save that of Orc? They would be small, only like children or Dwarves to your eyes, wearing no shoes and wearing grey." Aragorn pleaded. "There were no Dwarves nor children. We counted all the dead and burned them." Eomer said firmly. "We do not speak of Dwarves or children. Our friends were hobbits." Gimli put in. "Hobbits? And what may they be? It is a strange name." Eomer asked.
"These are small folk. Small and gentle, looking as Aragorn said, like children. They are neither Dwarves nor children." Aria explained as Gimli nodded. "Yes, a strange name for a strange folk, but these were very dear to us. These hobbits are Halflings." Gimli concurred. With that, a rider beside Eomer laughed loudly. "Halflings! But they are only a little people in old songs and childrens tales from the North. Do we walk in legends or on the earth?" He laughed. His smile faded as he caught sight of Aria's stern face, but shrugged and turned from her."A man may do both. But these that we seek are not legends I can assure you." Aragorn said tersely. The rider simply ignored him and turned back to Eomer. "Come Lord, the time is pressing. Let us leave these crazed folk to their fantasies!" He said harshly. "Stop Eothain! Leave me a while. Make the others ready to ride to the Entwade."
In the next few moments, Eomer listened to Aragorn intently as he told him what had transpired since their departure from Rivendell, of the death of Gandalf, then of the death of Boromir. "It is the fourth day since he was killed, and since the evening of that day, we have traveled from Tol Brandir." Aragorn finished. "On foot?" Eomer asked in disbelief. "Yes." Aragorn said, cocking his head at the man's surprise. "Strider is too poor a name Aragorn. I name you Wingfoot! Forty leagues and five you have come since the fourth day! Hardy is your people!" Eomer said, his surprise echoing in his voice. Aragorn said nothing, but merely nodded his head, accepting the compliment with grace. Then Eomer's head dropped and he paced in thought.
"So it comes to this. We are at a violent war with the Orcs, but now our chief concern is Saruman. For he walks among us in disguise, cloaked and hooded, watching us, sending his spies out among us and the surrounding lands. Will you not come and help us?" Eomer pleaded, suddenly raising his head. Aragorn sighed and shook his head. "I cannot, not while my friends are still in danger." He said quietly. "But we could find use for you, all of you. For Gimli's axe and Legolas' bow, and even something, for the lady. Of course if they will forgive my rash words considering the Lady of the Wood, for I spoke as all of my people do, but it is obviously in ignorance and I would gladly learn better." Eomer faltered as he eyed Aria. "I thank you, but I cannot. I must continue this quest first." Aragorn sighed. "But hope does not remain! You will not find your friends on the Northern Borders." Eomer said firmly.
"Yet they are not behind us either. I found a clear token by the East Wall that says at least one was still alive. The trail has not turned at all, so I shall continue on it." Aragorn explained. "What do you think has become of them?" Eomer asked, cocking his head. "I know not. They may have been slain and burned among the Orcs, but I really do not fear that since you deny it. I can only believe that they were taken away from the battle before it began. Can you swear that no Orc escaped you?" Aragorn asked. "I can swear it. We reached the forest-eaves before them, and after that if any living thing broke through our ring, then it was no Orc and had an Elvish power." Eomer said, his face serious and drawn. "Our friends were dressed as we are, and you passed us by in broad daylight." Aragorn said.
Eomer shook his head. "I had forgotten that. What is a man to do during such times, when legends spring to life? Halflings, the Lady of the Wood! What is one to think?" Aragorn nodded knowingly. "Yes, but still. We must continue with our quests, no matter how strange." Aragorn said. "Yes, but unfortunately you cannot continue your search in these lands. It is the law that no one can search our lands until he has the king's permission, but how are you to finish if you will not come with me?" Eomer asked. "I think your law would let us pass. I am not a stranger in these lands, as I have traveled them more than once in another guise. Your king would not detain a man on such a serious quest as my own. The time comes. Decide, shall you release us?" Aragorn asked, his head held high. Eomer stared at Aragorn, then shook his head. "I have no choice but to let you go Aragorn. I have some horses for you as you can see. You may take them."
Eomer lead them to the horses, fine beasts, one of grey, another of white, other fiery red. Legolas smiled broadly as he saw the fiery steed that was his own, his name being Arod. "Would you take off his saddle and bridle? I need them not." Legolas said, turning to Eomer. Eomer stared a moment, then ordered it to be done, and Legolas leapt upon the horse's bare back with the ease of a cat. Gimli stopped in his tracks as Aragorn slid into the saddle of the grey horse, whose name Eomer gave to be Hasufel. At that moment, the rider named Eothain laughed loudly. "Who has ever heard of a Dwarf riding a horse?" He asked, laughing behind his words. Gimli turned sharply on the man. "Never has it been. Nor shall it be." He said firmly. "Gimli, you must ride or you will slow us down." Aragorn said gently. Gimli stood still, his arms crossed across his chest stubbornly. Legolas saw his unmoving face and smiled. "Come now friend Gimli, ride behind me. Then you will not have to worry about having a horse of your own." He said, leaning his arm down to the dwarf. The dwarf stood still a moment before he relented grudgingly, climbing up on the horse's bare back and clinging to Legolas.
Eomer walked unsteadily over to Aria as she loosened the girdle of the saddle and watched it slip to the ground. She took off the bridle of the white horse and patted it's nose lovingly. "Lady, I know now that the Dwarf's words of you were true." Aria turned around to face Eomer, his face blanch, his eyes worried. "I beg your forgiveness for the words I spoke of your sister." He said, finally raising his eyes to her. To his obvious surprise, Aria smiled and laid her hand upon his shoulder. "I know. I forgave you before, for you knew not what you spoke. You were ignorant and knew nothing more. Be at peace." She said softly, a small smile on her face. Eomer's face changed, the light coming back in his eyes and his smile returning to his lips. "Her name is Noron. I know she is in good hands." Eomer said quietly, patting the white hide of the horse. Aria smiled and leapt lightly on the horse's back. Eomer took a step backwards and shouted, "Farewell! May you find what you seek and return here so that our swords may shine together!" Aragorn raised his sword. "I will return." He answered. "And I will as well, for the matter of the Lady of the Wood still lies between us. I have yet to teach you gentle speech." Gimli said firmly. Aria smiled and raised her eyes to heaven, but Eomer smiled. "We shall see. So many strange things have chanced that to learn the praise of a fair lady under the loving strokes of a Dwarf's axe will seem no great wonder! Farewell!" Eomer called after them, even as the horses took off into the distance.