Meant to Be
A Rewrite of "The Two Towers"
Part Two
As Aragorn regained his health quickly, the evil in the air surrounding Lorien seemed to grow. The elves kept to themselves, avoiding us. Aragorn met them only quietly, and never told me what was said, until one morning, after we were both ready to ride out again.
"I ride to Helm's Deep," he said, decisively. " Tonight." Before I had a chance to speak, he added,
"Alone."
"What?"
"I want you to stay here in Lorien."
"Aragorn - I - no!"
He cupped a finger around my chin.
"I don't want you wandering into danger again. I won't risk losing you."
"Aragorn, this is my battle as much as yours. I want to fight it just as badly."
"Regardless, it's not safe."
"Of course it's not safe! I don't want to lose you Aragorn, and I'd be happier there, near you, than waiting back here, wondering if you're alive or dead."
"You will have to wonder. I won't have you at Helm's Deep. I'll have you watched to make sure you stay, if I must."
"Aragorn!" I felt my cheeks grow hot with anger. He held up a hand, asking me not to become angry. He was too late, however, and the temper that I had before channeled into the quest was unleashed on him.
"This is my fight! You know what I watched, you know my story! I cannot sit here in Lorien while the rest of the world fights my own enemy! I will not, and you will not keep me here!"
There was a frozen silence. I was instantly sorry for yelling at him, because the cares that I had saw somewhat soothed here in Lorien, suddenly returned to his handsome features. His face became tired, lined, and grim. My remorse made me no less unwilling to back down, however. I watched him, silently, and he looked at me, as well.
"I would not have you wander so willingly into danger if I did not know why you must go. I am sorry for forgetting your reasons." His voice was wooden, mechanical.
"Aragorn, I'm sorry -" I said, touching his arm. "I would not cause you grief, if it weren't so vital. I just - must."
"I know," he said, his voice softening. "I know."
The rest of the afternoon was consumed with our preparations. We would depart that evening, and there was much to do. Lembas must be packed, bedrolls, and other supplies. Not to mention the weaponry. Even Aragorn was induced to chuckle when he saw me. I stood by Alinea, who had returned to me in Lorien, sword on my waist, scimitar hooked to her saddle, and a bow and quiver across my back.
"This time," he said. "I will not call your dagger into action."
"I have the feeling we've done this before," I said, with a smile. He grinned, a rare occurrence. It made me sad, for I rarely saw him smile. I could count the times on one hand. The effect was startling: his features became light and young, his eyes, not so dark. For that brief moment, he seemed to shine.
"'You are well armed -- sword, bow, quiver, scimitar…'" he quoted.
"'I take no chances,'" I responded, and tossed the dagger lightly from my boot. This time he was ready for me, however, and caught my wrist before it had reached the boot, pulled it up and slung half of my body over his shoulder, twirled me around and set me down again. I shrieked, beat lightly on his back, and as he dropped me to the ground, I yanked him down with me. We sat, laughing, in the dust for a moment, while Alinea regarded us imperiously. As our chuckles gradually subsided, Aragorn said,
"It's so long since I have seen you smile."
"It's odd, because I was thinking the same of you."
He gave a wry smile, the one I recognized.
"In these times, I find myself finding less and less to smile at…"
"It is too little," I agreed, sadly. I looked down at the ring on my hand, and suddenly recalled something Galadriel had said to Frodo, a thought which he had passed on to me:
"You are a ring bearer, Frodo. To bear a ring of power is to be alone." I was beginning to realize how true that was, and it saddened me. I felt the power of the Ring of Nenya claiming me. I would never be fully my own, despite the goodness of the ring. I wondered again, what purpose the ring held.
Aragorn stood up and brushed the dirt off of him. He extended a hand and pulled me up.
"No tricks this time," I said.
"No," he said, tonelessly. The mask he so often wore, hiding what he truly thought, was back. I saw it, even before I had recognized what he was hiding. His own despair, his own doubts and fears, that our cause might fail, were hidden behind that mask. He was not afraid of dying, and he was only partially afraid of losing me. What he feared the most was losing his heritage, his country, his people. Gondor, and Middle Earth, for they were the two things most precious to him. Land was the only thing that mattered, for it was the only thing that lasted. And it was from that land, that nations grew, and from the land that people prospered and lived. To lose that land, was Aragorn's greatest fear. I saw it in his eyes, I saw it behind the mask, and I feared his fear. He would never speak of it.
* * *
Legolas, Aragorn, Gimli, and I rode out of Lórien directly after supper and began to journey to Helm's Deep. The trip began mostly uneventful, and mostly silent. The three of us spoke little, for we all knew what awaited us at Helm's Deep, None of us, even I, relished the thought of going there. None of us could be kept away, but we rued that we were needed at all.
We rode through the plains of Rohan, moving swiftly, and silently. As we came upon a ridge, looking down on the unpoisoned parts of the Isen, there was the combined sound of thundering hooves and the chattering of people. To the East, a group of men, women, and children approached.
"Legolas - what do your elf-eyes tell you of this group?" Aragorn commanded. Legolas looked sharply to the group, his eyes seeming to penetrate the few leagues between us.
"A group of peasants. They bear the flag of the Ridermark."
"Friend, then," said Aragorn. He turned to the sounds of hooves from the West. As the sound came closer, we realized they were not hooves. Suddenly, the wolves of Mordor burst over the ridge, ridden by orcs. The four of us immediately drew blade. There were nine wolves and we each mentally marked two or three. The wolves were strong and they covered the distance between us in great bounding leaps and flung themselves at us. From that moment on I had no chance to see how my comrades fared, for I was too hard pressed to keep my own head upon my shoulders. The first wolf came at me and flung himself into Alinea. She whinnied angrily and spun on her hocks to dispel the beast before he could sink his teeth into her. I took the opportunity to bring my sword down on the orc riding him. He fell, blood pouring from the wound on his skull. The wolf was on his feet again in an instant, however, heedless of the death of his master. He snapped his jaws at us. As I raised my blade, a second Morgoth bowled me completely off of Alinea's back. I was flung over the first and landed hard on the ground a few feet away. The both bore down on me. I clutched for my sword and sank it deep into the chest of one of them. He howled in pain and backed away, not quite dead, but no longer a serious threat. The second wolf and orc, however, were only a few feet away. I scrambled backwards, trying to get to my feet, realizing quickly that it was futile. I would have to fight from the ground. The wolf lunged at my legs, scraping his teeth along then. I yanked them out of the way just in time and managed to keep both appendages. The miscalculated lunge left the Morgoth in a vulnerable position and I slit his throat. The orc rolled off of him, and we came face to face as I stood. There was a clang of metal as our blades met and then a growl of frustration from the orc. We battled fiercely for only a few moments before I brought him to the ground. I took in the scene around me. Only two Morgoth remained and it appeared that Legolas and Gimli had them under control. The bodies of orcs and Morgoth lay strewn about. I saw one move on the crest of the hill, obviously still alive. I raced up the incline to him, prepared to slay him, when suddenly Legolas' voice rang out.
"Stay that sword!" I froze, mid-thrust and stepped back. Legolas came up by me.
"Aragorn! Have you seen him?" I looked about me.
"No –"
The orc hissed something, low in his throat, half-words, half chuckle.
"What was that?" I asked, sharply.
The orc chuckled again, even through the veil of death that was beginning to cover him.
"He went over the edge," said the orc. I shuddered at the foul voice. It brought back memories that I didn't want to remember.
"What are you talking about?" asked Legolas, angrily.
"The king you speak of, he has fallen." There was a malicious joy on the face of the dying orc. "He is dead."
"You lie!" said Legolas, angrily.
The orc laughed his last breath. I ran to the edge. Nothing. There was no sign of Aragorn. I sucked in my breath. Not again … Legolas cast a quick glance in my direction. I met his glance, steeling myself. I would not fall apart this time. If I had lost him – I would die inside, I realized, but no one on the outside should know. Silently, I walked away from the crest of the hill and whistled. Alinea appeared and I swung onto her back.
"I will ride down to the shore and look for him. If I don't find him within the hour, I will return. We cannot tarry here," I said.
"No," said Legolas. "There is no way down from here, no way to the shore. Too much time would pass for you to find a place to descend. We dare not hope. The fall would have killed even the strongest of men."
"He was," I whispered.
"Come," said Legolas. He pulled Gimli up after him. "Come!" he said, more sharply. I jerked myself back to my senses and followed him. We approached the Rohan peasants. Legolas saluted him.
"What business have you, traveling thus?" he asked.
"We make for the protection of Helm's Deep," said their leader. "The forces of Saruman gather against us."
"We ask to ride with you, for that is our destination as well," said Legolas.
"And who are you?" spoke a woman standing by the flag-bearer.
"I am Legolas, of Mirkwood, and this is Gimli, son of Gloin. The woman is called Aine. And who are you?"
"I am Eowyn, daughter of the king of Rohan." Legolas nodded. "You have permission to ride with us, Legolas of Mirkwood, for you and your companions are known to us."
We assimilated into the group, walking slowly and quietly, matching the pace of the tired peasants. I rode up by Eowyn, questions in my mind.
"What awaits us at Helm's Deep?" I questioned. "Is this the first group, or the only?"
"The last. The king and his soldiers already await there."
"What news have you of Gandalf the White, or did you not know he has arisen?"
"We knew this, yes. We have seen him at Rohan, for he has brought life back to our king, who was consumed by the evil power of Saruman. He has ridden off, saying only to look to the East on the dawn of the fifth day."
I absorbed this information in silence.
"And yourself?" she questioned. "You ride from Lorien, this much we know. But the son of Arathorn was to ride with you. His leadership in battle is well-known. We hoped for his aid."
My face fell.
"Aragorn … fell, only a few moments ago. We were beset by the wolves of Isengaurd." Eowyn's face became saddened.
"His support will be sorely missed."
"He will be sorely missed," I said, softly.
"You speak of him as a friend."
"He was a dear friend." I had no desire to speak of Aragorn, and I rode back to Legolas and Gimli.
"How many leagues to Helm's Deep?" I asked.
"Ar-" Gimli cut himself short, then coughed self consciously. "Fifteen miles, or so from this point."
"Then we are close," said Legolas. "Look to the ridge," he said, suddenly. "I can see it in the distance." It was not quite visible to my eyes, but did not doubt Legolas' keen eyesight.
We rode up the ramp to the fortress of Helm's Deep, a pitiful group of weary travelers, crying babies, and saddened warriors. The king stepped out to meet us. His eyes lighted on Gimli, Legolas, and me almost immediately, riding up front. He searched the crowd, surely for Aragorn, and Legolas rode up to him. He dismounted and bowed low.
"My Lord, I regret to inform you of the death of Aragorn, son of Arathorn. He will not join us in this battle."
Theodin shook his head sadly.
"This is grievous news indeed."
Legolas bowed again and backed away. We stabled the horses and rested. On the next morning, we met with Theodin, along with the rest of his councils and generals.
"We have three hundred peasants, against the Uruk-Hai of Saruman," said one general gloomily.
"Not only peasants, for we have our own soldiers of the Ridermark," said another angrily. "And they are peasants willing to fight for their own country, for their people!"
"The true soldiers of the Ridermark were banished at the hands of Wormtongue!" the first cried. "Eomer was the true general of our people!"
There was a sudden cry of angry disapproval from the rest of the men in the room. Legolas, Gimli, and I sat quietly in the corner. Gimli growled quietly,
"Most of these peasants have seen too many winters…"
"Or too few," added Legolas. "They are no soldiers." I said nothing, my face a blank. My mind was still on Aragorn, and the pain I had borne the night before. My eyes had been swollen from crying and I had had to wash them with cool water to hide the effects. It seemed only Legolas could tell of my pain. My thoughts strayed from the events at hand, and I wondered where Frodo and Sam were, if they were safe, if they continued the quest to Mount Doom. I knew Frodo would toil at it until the end of his time here on earth. I was tired, tired of this fight, yet my physical being begged to be unleashed against the upcoming battle. I both anticipated it and dreaded it. My feelings were muddled.
As we sat in the hall, there was a sudden sound of clattering hooves on the cobblestones outside. We all looked up, and one of the generals made a move for the huge double wooden doors. Before he had reached them, however, they were flung open and a long figure staggered in, backlit against the brilliantly bright sunset. He strode forth, into a shadow, and I saw it to be Aragorn. I gave a cry of shock. He turned tired eyes to meet mine, and he smiled. I rushed to him. Legolas strode up first however, and stood in front of him. I stepped back deferentially.
"You're late," he said in elvish, with a smile. Then,
"You look terrible."
They placed their hands on one another's shoulders, then Legolas stepped back. I walked to him, and hugged him.
"I cannot believe this-" I said. "To come so close to losing you again, only to have you returned to me."
Aragorn said nothing, only stepped back and approached Theodin.
"Saruman has massed an army, tens of thousands strong," he said, without preamble.
"You know this?"
"I have seen it with my own eyes."
A deadly quiet pressed down on the company. Tens of thousands … against three hundred.
* * *
The people at Helm's Deep could hear the army of Saruman while they were still miles off. The sound of iron-clad boots tramping on solid ground reverberated into the very heart of the fortress and shook the resolve of the people. Tens of thousands … Within, weapons were being given to anyone who could wield one. As Legolas and Gimli had said, Too many or too few winters. Aragorn and I stood, watching the proceedings. He had been quiet, distant, and I knew he was deeply disturbed. Neither of us said a word. Because of the crash of metal and the babble of the multiple conversations going in the room, the footsteps of Saruman's army were temporarily silenced. It was a relief for our nerves, not to hear the steps, growing steadily closer. Nightfall was fast approaching. A boom of thunder sounded from the outside, and the rains would soon begin to fall.
Legolas approached us. He spoke to Aragorn in elvish.
"This is folly. It is three hundred peasants against tens of thousands of Uruk-Hai. This battle cannot be won."
"They will fight for their king, for their country," said Aragorn, tonelessly.
"They are afraid, I see it in their eyes. They will all die!" said Legolas, furiously.
Aragorn's face contorted and he broke into the common tongue.
"Then I will die as one of them!" he roared. Heads turned. Fear reflected from them, and it was obvious that they knew what the conversation had been about, despite it's foreign tongue. Aragorn strode angrily from the room. Legolas started to go after him, but Gimli caught his arm.
"Let him go, lad." Legolas obeyed. I bit my lip, but did not follow Aragorn. There seemed no way I could help him. He was so out of reach, angry at the weakness around him, furious at the imminent defeat. I closed my eyes and said a silent prayer. I cast weary, disappointed eyes to Legolas, and walked away, to the outer walls of the fortress. Night had fallen and a driving rain had commenced. The torches of the enemy were now visible in the distance. I sighed audibly, and watched the pinpricks of light grow brighter and bigger. I shifted my weight and knew I must soon go below and remove the dress I wore on the outside of my riding habit. I would not have the long skirts hindering me in the upcoming battle. I would be more comfortable if this was to be a cavalry fight: I always felt more secure of Alinea. During these sorts of fights, there was also no need to spark a controversy by wearing pants. I drew my sword and swung it a few times. It reflected the light from a near-by torch bearer. I spun around, bobbing lightly, and to my surprise and clang of metal met my blade. Aragorn stood in front of me. I dropped my blade and sheathed it. He returned his curved dagger to its own sheath on his hip. There was a long silence.
"You seem as prepared as any for tonight," I said, at last. There was no real purpose to my words, only to break the silence.
"I will not have you joining me," he said, flatly. I frowned and opened my mouth furiously. He stopped me before I could speak.
"The battle tonight will be no common affair. I do not expect any on top to survive the night. If things become too dangerous, the women and children will refugee through the back of the mountain. You will go with them."
"You think you can order me about so carelessly!" I cried, angrily.
"You will heed my orders." His voice left no room for argument, but I began to regardless. This time, however, Aragorn was not to be swayed by my angry words.
"This is not a woman's fight, and it is a fight I wish to protect you from. I will not see you wander so needlessly into a battle in which you are not wanted!" he was half-shouting now.
"Since when have you become to protective of what fights I will and will not fight? Since when has it become your decision?"
He chose not to respond to my question. He turned and walked away. After a few steps he turned, and looked back.
"You will be in your place at the start of the battle if I have to carry you there myself. You have fifteen minutes more on the wall, before I want you below."
He did not wait for a response, only walked away, footsteps heavy and burdened. I stood fuming for a moment more, and weighed my options. The urge to disobey was strong, but I had to admit that after Theodin, Aragorn was in charge. I should observe his orders, if not for myself, as an example. I stormed downstairs. Despite my decision, I was still angry with him. I came into the hall on the lowest level where the women and children were. My eyes met Eowyn's across the room. I saw the frustration in my own being mirrored in her eyes. I located a quiet spot and sat down.
* * *
Less than two hours later, the tramping had grown so loud that it was as an endless wave of thunder. Most of the small children were in tears, and the women's eyes were terrified, wondering whether they would ever see their men folk again. I had my own fears and doubts, for I was afraid for Aragorn. The dankness in the air gave away the rainstorm above. It was not long before the screams of the battle rose over the din of boots and rain and thunder. The women clutched their children to their breasts and prayed. I stood alone by the door, praying. I shivered as there was the first, unmistakable war cry of the Uruks, in unison.
The battle had started.
* * *
It seemed we waited beneath the walls of Helm's Deep for an interminable age. The sounds of the battle roared overhead. Slowly at first, and then faster and faster, the wounded began to pour in. Those who could not walk were borne by their comrades, who silently deposited them, and then returned to the hell above. The floors were soaked in blood as the women tried to administer as much care as possible. I guiltily searched each face, praying I would not see Aragorn. We cared for them as much as possible, but so many, oh so many died. I remembered what Eowyn had said Gandalf had said: "Look for my coming on the dawn of the fifth day." How many days had passed since then? How long had the battle lasted? The battle cries overhead made me shiver both with fear and anger. I wanted desperately to take my frustration over the dead out on the living Uruk-hai. Each soldier we asked for news, but we could only gain snatches. I stood by the door, ushering the wounded in, directing them to places to rest, and assisting some. I was shocked, however, when an elf, strange to me, entered the room, bearing a young boy across his shoulders. He saw the surprise on my face as I noted the warrior's garb. He smiled ever so slightly.
"We are from Lorien, led by Haldir."
"Haldir!" I said, shocked, removing the boy from his shoulders.
The elf's face fell.
"He has fallen, I fear." I closed my eyes in a moment of silent grief, then quickly opened them.
"Please, what news of the battle?"
"We fare badly. The Uruk-hai are many, and our dead are mounting."
"What day is it?"
"It is the fourth evening," he said, knowing immediately of what I spoke.
"You think that we cannot win this battle," I said.
"I do," said the elf, grimly, before turning on his heel and returning above. I gritted my teeth, fighting the urge to disobey Aragorn and join the fight above. My eyes passed over the hundreds of wounded lying next to one another on the floor. My decision was made. Without speaking, I walked to the far corner of the chamber. Slipping of the dress over my riding garb, I pulled on my pair of tall boots that stood by my things. I donned my sword and bow, and slid my scimitar into the sheath across by back. Eowyn saw me, from where she attended a fallen soldier with an arrow through the shoulder. I caught her glance and threw her a grim smile. I half-jogged up the flights of stairs and walked out into the stormy night. Arrows flew in every direction, and Uruk-hai stood as far as the eye could see. The dead from both armies lay piled at the base of the walls. I drew blade and raced to the walls and began to aid the soldiers shoving back the hundreds of ladders. The men were so involved that they barely gave me a second glance. They were being defeated and they knew it. But they would fight to the death. Suddenly, a huge explosion wracked the structure.
"THEY'RE BREAKING THROUGH!" cried someone. I saw the king, standing on a turret a few yards above me.
"RETREAT!" he cried. "THEY'VE BROKEN INTO THE HORNBURG! RETREAT!" Orcs poured over the walls like water over a dam and the Eorlings and elves poured backwards towards the keep, and I ran with them. They began to barricade the doors, as the Uruk-hai crashed against them. It took me several moments to realize that Aragorn was in the same room. He cast me a furious glance, but it was quickly diverted.
They were going to break through any moment, and the battle would be over. We all knew it. I twisted my face, trying to think of some way out of the mess we were in. There had to be some way to beat back the Uruk-hai from this entrance. Suddenly, it occurred to me. I raced out of the hall and to where the horses were stabled. Alinea was in her stall, and I barely took the time to sling a bridal on her, before leaping on, and tearing down the hallway in the opposite direction. If I remembered correctly, there was a small door on the wall, several yards from the bridge. If I was lucky. I could get Alinea out of the door, and jump her to the bridge, and battle the Uruk-hai back from the outside. The same thought must have occurred to Aragorn and Gimli, however, because as I came tearing out of the door on horseback, I nearly knocked the two of them off of the wall.
"You just couldn't stay away, could you?" asked Aragorn.
"No," I said. He laughed a little, then looked to Gimli.
"It's a long way," he said. Gimli peered around the edge and made a face. He muttered something under his breath.
"What?" asked Aragorn, incredulously.
"I cannot make the distance, you'll have to toss me!" he growled. I almost laughed. Aragorn nodded, attempting to keep a straight face despite the situation. He was about to grab Gimli who said,
"Ah -- Aine, Aragorn -- don't tell the elf."
"Not a word," said Aragorn. I nodded. Aragorn tossed the dwarf and leaped after him. They quickly got out of my way as I spurred Alinea across.
A Rewrite of "The Two Towers"
Part Two
As Aragorn regained his health quickly, the evil in the air surrounding Lorien seemed to grow. The elves kept to themselves, avoiding us. Aragorn met them only quietly, and never told me what was said, until one morning, after we were both ready to ride out again.
"I ride to Helm's Deep," he said, decisively. " Tonight." Before I had a chance to speak, he added,
"Alone."
"What?"
"I want you to stay here in Lorien."
"Aragorn - I - no!"
He cupped a finger around my chin.
"I don't want you wandering into danger again. I won't risk losing you."
"Aragorn, this is my battle as much as yours. I want to fight it just as badly."
"Regardless, it's not safe."
"Of course it's not safe! I don't want to lose you Aragorn, and I'd be happier there, near you, than waiting back here, wondering if you're alive or dead."
"You will have to wonder. I won't have you at Helm's Deep. I'll have you watched to make sure you stay, if I must."
"Aragorn!" I felt my cheeks grow hot with anger. He held up a hand, asking me not to become angry. He was too late, however, and the temper that I had before channeled into the quest was unleashed on him.
"This is my fight! You know what I watched, you know my story! I cannot sit here in Lorien while the rest of the world fights my own enemy! I will not, and you will not keep me here!"
There was a frozen silence. I was instantly sorry for yelling at him, because the cares that I had saw somewhat soothed here in Lorien, suddenly returned to his handsome features. His face became tired, lined, and grim. My remorse made me no less unwilling to back down, however. I watched him, silently, and he looked at me, as well.
"I would not have you wander so willingly into danger if I did not know why you must go. I am sorry for forgetting your reasons." His voice was wooden, mechanical.
"Aragorn, I'm sorry -" I said, touching his arm. "I would not cause you grief, if it weren't so vital. I just - must."
"I know," he said, his voice softening. "I know."
The rest of the afternoon was consumed with our preparations. We would depart that evening, and there was much to do. Lembas must be packed, bedrolls, and other supplies. Not to mention the weaponry. Even Aragorn was induced to chuckle when he saw me. I stood by Alinea, who had returned to me in Lorien, sword on my waist, scimitar hooked to her saddle, and a bow and quiver across my back.
"This time," he said. "I will not call your dagger into action."
"I have the feeling we've done this before," I said, with a smile. He grinned, a rare occurrence. It made me sad, for I rarely saw him smile. I could count the times on one hand. The effect was startling: his features became light and young, his eyes, not so dark. For that brief moment, he seemed to shine.
"'You are well armed -- sword, bow, quiver, scimitar…'" he quoted.
"'I take no chances,'" I responded, and tossed the dagger lightly from my boot. This time he was ready for me, however, and caught my wrist before it had reached the boot, pulled it up and slung half of my body over his shoulder, twirled me around and set me down again. I shrieked, beat lightly on his back, and as he dropped me to the ground, I yanked him down with me. We sat, laughing, in the dust for a moment, while Alinea regarded us imperiously. As our chuckles gradually subsided, Aragorn said,
"It's so long since I have seen you smile."
"It's odd, because I was thinking the same of you."
He gave a wry smile, the one I recognized.
"In these times, I find myself finding less and less to smile at…"
"It is too little," I agreed, sadly. I looked down at the ring on my hand, and suddenly recalled something Galadriel had said to Frodo, a thought which he had passed on to me:
"You are a ring bearer, Frodo. To bear a ring of power is to be alone." I was beginning to realize how true that was, and it saddened me. I felt the power of the Ring of Nenya claiming me. I would never be fully my own, despite the goodness of the ring. I wondered again, what purpose the ring held.
Aragorn stood up and brushed the dirt off of him. He extended a hand and pulled me up.
"No tricks this time," I said.
"No," he said, tonelessly. The mask he so often wore, hiding what he truly thought, was back. I saw it, even before I had recognized what he was hiding. His own despair, his own doubts and fears, that our cause might fail, were hidden behind that mask. He was not afraid of dying, and he was only partially afraid of losing me. What he feared the most was losing his heritage, his country, his people. Gondor, and Middle Earth, for they were the two things most precious to him. Land was the only thing that mattered, for it was the only thing that lasted. And it was from that land, that nations grew, and from the land that people prospered and lived. To lose that land, was Aragorn's greatest fear. I saw it in his eyes, I saw it behind the mask, and I feared his fear. He would never speak of it.
* * *
Legolas, Aragorn, Gimli, and I rode out of Lórien directly after supper and began to journey to Helm's Deep. The trip began mostly uneventful, and mostly silent. The three of us spoke little, for we all knew what awaited us at Helm's Deep, None of us, even I, relished the thought of going there. None of us could be kept away, but we rued that we were needed at all.
We rode through the plains of Rohan, moving swiftly, and silently. As we came upon a ridge, looking down on the unpoisoned parts of the Isen, there was the combined sound of thundering hooves and the chattering of people. To the East, a group of men, women, and children approached.
"Legolas - what do your elf-eyes tell you of this group?" Aragorn commanded. Legolas looked sharply to the group, his eyes seeming to penetrate the few leagues between us.
"A group of peasants. They bear the flag of the Ridermark."
"Friend, then," said Aragorn. He turned to the sounds of hooves from the West. As the sound came closer, we realized they were not hooves. Suddenly, the wolves of Mordor burst over the ridge, ridden by orcs. The four of us immediately drew blade. There were nine wolves and we each mentally marked two or three. The wolves were strong and they covered the distance between us in great bounding leaps and flung themselves at us. From that moment on I had no chance to see how my comrades fared, for I was too hard pressed to keep my own head upon my shoulders. The first wolf came at me and flung himself into Alinea. She whinnied angrily and spun on her hocks to dispel the beast before he could sink his teeth into her. I took the opportunity to bring my sword down on the orc riding him. He fell, blood pouring from the wound on his skull. The wolf was on his feet again in an instant, however, heedless of the death of his master. He snapped his jaws at us. As I raised my blade, a second Morgoth bowled me completely off of Alinea's back. I was flung over the first and landed hard on the ground a few feet away. The both bore down on me. I clutched for my sword and sank it deep into the chest of one of them. He howled in pain and backed away, not quite dead, but no longer a serious threat. The second wolf and orc, however, were only a few feet away. I scrambled backwards, trying to get to my feet, realizing quickly that it was futile. I would have to fight from the ground. The wolf lunged at my legs, scraping his teeth along then. I yanked them out of the way just in time and managed to keep both appendages. The miscalculated lunge left the Morgoth in a vulnerable position and I slit his throat. The orc rolled off of him, and we came face to face as I stood. There was a clang of metal as our blades met and then a growl of frustration from the orc. We battled fiercely for only a few moments before I brought him to the ground. I took in the scene around me. Only two Morgoth remained and it appeared that Legolas and Gimli had them under control. The bodies of orcs and Morgoth lay strewn about. I saw one move on the crest of the hill, obviously still alive. I raced up the incline to him, prepared to slay him, when suddenly Legolas' voice rang out.
"Stay that sword!" I froze, mid-thrust and stepped back. Legolas came up by me.
"Aragorn! Have you seen him?" I looked about me.
"No –"
The orc hissed something, low in his throat, half-words, half chuckle.
"What was that?" I asked, sharply.
The orc chuckled again, even through the veil of death that was beginning to cover him.
"He went over the edge," said the orc. I shuddered at the foul voice. It brought back memories that I didn't want to remember.
"What are you talking about?" asked Legolas, angrily.
"The king you speak of, he has fallen." There was a malicious joy on the face of the dying orc. "He is dead."
"You lie!" said Legolas, angrily.
The orc laughed his last breath. I ran to the edge. Nothing. There was no sign of Aragorn. I sucked in my breath. Not again … Legolas cast a quick glance in my direction. I met his glance, steeling myself. I would not fall apart this time. If I had lost him – I would die inside, I realized, but no one on the outside should know. Silently, I walked away from the crest of the hill and whistled. Alinea appeared and I swung onto her back.
"I will ride down to the shore and look for him. If I don't find him within the hour, I will return. We cannot tarry here," I said.
"No," said Legolas. "There is no way down from here, no way to the shore. Too much time would pass for you to find a place to descend. We dare not hope. The fall would have killed even the strongest of men."
"He was," I whispered.
"Come," said Legolas. He pulled Gimli up after him. "Come!" he said, more sharply. I jerked myself back to my senses and followed him. We approached the Rohan peasants. Legolas saluted him.
"What business have you, traveling thus?" he asked.
"We make for the protection of Helm's Deep," said their leader. "The forces of Saruman gather against us."
"We ask to ride with you, for that is our destination as well," said Legolas.
"And who are you?" spoke a woman standing by the flag-bearer.
"I am Legolas, of Mirkwood, and this is Gimli, son of Gloin. The woman is called Aine. And who are you?"
"I am Eowyn, daughter of the king of Rohan." Legolas nodded. "You have permission to ride with us, Legolas of Mirkwood, for you and your companions are known to us."
We assimilated into the group, walking slowly and quietly, matching the pace of the tired peasants. I rode up by Eowyn, questions in my mind.
"What awaits us at Helm's Deep?" I questioned. "Is this the first group, or the only?"
"The last. The king and his soldiers already await there."
"What news have you of Gandalf the White, or did you not know he has arisen?"
"We knew this, yes. We have seen him at Rohan, for he has brought life back to our king, who was consumed by the evil power of Saruman. He has ridden off, saying only to look to the East on the dawn of the fifth day."
I absorbed this information in silence.
"And yourself?" she questioned. "You ride from Lorien, this much we know. But the son of Arathorn was to ride with you. His leadership in battle is well-known. We hoped for his aid."
My face fell.
"Aragorn … fell, only a few moments ago. We were beset by the wolves of Isengaurd." Eowyn's face became saddened.
"His support will be sorely missed."
"He will be sorely missed," I said, softly.
"You speak of him as a friend."
"He was a dear friend." I had no desire to speak of Aragorn, and I rode back to Legolas and Gimli.
"How many leagues to Helm's Deep?" I asked.
"Ar-" Gimli cut himself short, then coughed self consciously. "Fifteen miles, or so from this point."
"Then we are close," said Legolas. "Look to the ridge," he said, suddenly. "I can see it in the distance." It was not quite visible to my eyes, but did not doubt Legolas' keen eyesight.
We rode up the ramp to the fortress of Helm's Deep, a pitiful group of weary travelers, crying babies, and saddened warriors. The king stepped out to meet us. His eyes lighted on Gimli, Legolas, and me almost immediately, riding up front. He searched the crowd, surely for Aragorn, and Legolas rode up to him. He dismounted and bowed low.
"My Lord, I regret to inform you of the death of Aragorn, son of Arathorn. He will not join us in this battle."
Theodin shook his head sadly.
"This is grievous news indeed."
Legolas bowed again and backed away. We stabled the horses and rested. On the next morning, we met with Theodin, along with the rest of his councils and generals.
"We have three hundred peasants, against the Uruk-Hai of Saruman," said one general gloomily.
"Not only peasants, for we have our own soldiers of the Ridermark," said another angrily. "And they are peasants willing to fight for their own country, for their people!"
"The true soldiers of the Ridermark were banished at the hands of Wormtongue!" the first cried. "Eomer was the true general of our people!"
There was a sudden cry of angry disapproval from the rest of the men in the room. Legolas, Gimli, and I sat quietly in the corner. Gimli growled quietly,
"Most of these peasants have seen too many winters…"
"Or too few," added Legolas. "They are no soldiers." I said nothing, my face a blank. My mind was still on Aragorn, and the pain I had borne the night before. My eyes had been swollen from crying and I had had to wash them with cool water to hide the effects. It seemed only Legolas could tell of my pain. My thoughts strayed from the events at hand, and I wondered where Frodo and Sam were, if they were safe, if they continued the quest to Mount Doom. I knew Frodo would toil at it until the end of his time here on earth. I was tired, tired of this fight, yet my physical being begged to be unleashed against the upcoming battle. I both anticipated it and dreaded it. My feelings were muddled.
As we sat in the hall, there was a sudden sound of clattering hooves on the cobblestones outside. We all looked up, and one of the generals made a move for the huge double wooden doors. Before he had reached them, however, they were flung open and a long figure staggered in, backlit against the brilliantly bright sunset. He strode forth, into a shadow, and I saw it to be Aragorn. I gave a cry of shock. He turned tired eyes to meet mine, and he smiled. I rushed to him. Legolas strode up first however, and stood in front of him. I stepped back deferentially.
"You're late," he said in elvish, with a smile. Then,
"You look terrible."
They placed their hands on one another's shoulders, then Legolas stepped back. I walked to him, and hugged him.
"I cannot believe this-" I said. "To come so close to losing you again, only to have you returned to me."
Aragorn said nothing, only stepped back and approached Theodin.
"Saruman has massed an army, tens of thousands strong," he said, without preamble.
"You know this?"
"I have seen it with my own eyes."
A deadly quiet pressed down on the company. Tens of thousands … against three hundred.
* * *
The people at Helm's Deep could hear the army of Saruman while they were still miles off. The sound of iron-clad boots tramping on solid ground reverberated into the very heart of the fortress and shook the resolve of the people. Tens of thousands … Within, weapons were being given to anyone who could wield one. As Legolas and Gimli had said, Too many or too few winters. Aragorn and I stood, watching the proceedings. He had been quiet, distant, and I knew he was deeply disturbed. Neither of us said a word. Because of the crash of metal and the babble of the multiple conversations going in the room, the footsteps of Saruman's army were temporarily silenced. It was a relief for our nerves, not to hear the steps, growing steadily closer. Nightfall was fast approaching. A boom of thunder sounded from the outside, and the rains would soon begin to fall.
Legolas approached us. He spoke to Aragorn in elvish.
"This is folly. It is three hundred peasants against tens of thousands of Uruk-Hai. This battle cannot be won."
"They will fight for their king, for their country," said Aragorn, tonelessly.
"They are afraid, I see it in their eyes. They will all die!" said Legolas, furiously.
Aragorn's face contorted and he broke into the common tongue.
"Then I will die as one of them!" he roared. Heads turned. Fear reflected from them, and it was obvious that they knew what the conversation had been about, despite it's foreign tongue. Aragorn strode angrily from the room. Legolas started to go after him, but Gimli caught his arm.
"Let him go, lad." Legolas obeyed. I bit my lip, but did not follow Aragorn. There seemed no way I could help him. He was so out of reach, angry at the weakness around him, furious at the imminent defeat. I closed my eyes and said a silent prayer. I cast weary, disappointed eyes to Legolas, and walked away, to the outer walls of the fortress. Night had fallen and a driving rain had commenced. The torches of the enemy were now visible in the distance. I sighed audibly, and watched the pinpricks of light grow brighter and bigger. I shifted my weight and knew I must soon go below and remove the dress I wore on the outside of my riding habit. I would not have the long skirts hindering me in the upcoming battle. I would be more comfortable if this was to be a cavalry fight: I always felt more secure of Alinea. During these sorts of fights, there was also no need to spark a controversy by wearing pants. I drew my sword and swung it a few times. It reflected the light from a near-by torch bearer. I spun around, bobbing lightly, and to my surprise and clang of metal met my blade. Aragorn stood in front of me. I dropped my blade and sheathed it. He returned his curved dagger to its own sheath on his hip. There was a long silence.
"You seem as prepared as any for tonight," I said, at last. There was no real purpose to my words, only to break the silence.
"I will not have you joining me," he said, flatly. I frowned and opened my mouth furiously. He stopped me before I could speak.
"The battle tonight will be no common affair. I do not expect any on top to survive the night. If things become too dangerous, the women and children will refugee through the back of the mountain. You will go with them."
"You think you can order me about so carelessly!" I cried, angrily.
"You will heed my orders." His voice left no room for argument, but I began to regardless. This time, however, Aragorn was not to be swayed by my angry words.
"This is not a woman's fight, and it is a fight I wish to protect you from. I will not see you wander so needlessly into a battle in which you are not wanted!" he was half-shouting now.
"Since when have you become to protective of what fights I will and will not fight? Since when has it become your decision?"
He chose not to respond to my question. He turned and walked away. After a few steps he turned, and looked back.
"You will be in your place at the start of the battle if I have to carry you there myself. You have fifteen minutes more on the wall, before I want you below."
He did not wait for a response, only walked away, footsteps heavy and burdened. I stood fuming for a moment more, and weighed my options. The urge to disobey was strong, but I had to admit that after Theodin, Aragorn was in charge. I should observe his orders, if not for myself, as an example. I stormed downstairs. Despite my decision, I was still angry with him. I came into the hall on the lowest level where the women and children were. My eyes met Eowyn's across the room. I saw the frustration in my own being mirrored in her eyes. I located a quiet spot and sat down.
* * *
Less than two hours later, the tramping had grown so loud that it was as an endless wave of thunder. Most of the small children were in tears, and the women's eyes were terrified, wondering whether they would ever see their men folk again. I had my own fears and doubts, for I was afraid for Aragorn. The dankness in the air gave away the rainstorm above. It was not long before the screams of the battle rose over the din of boots and rain and thunder. The women clutched their children to their breasts and prayed. I stood alone by the door, praying. I shivered as there was the first, unmistakable war cry of the Uruks, in unison.
The battle had started.
* * *
It seemed we waited beneath the walls of Helm's Deep for an interminable age. The sounds of the battle roared overhead. Slowly at first, and then faster and faster, the wounded began to pour in. Those who could not walk were borne by their comrades, who silently deposited them, and then returned to the hell above. The floors were soaked in blood as the women tried to administer as much care as possible. I guiltily searched each face, praying I would not see Aragorn. We cared for them as much as possible, but so many, oh so many died. I remembered what Eowyn had said Gandalf had said: "Look for my coming on the dawn of the fifth day." How many days had passed since then? How long had the battle lasted? The battle cries overhead made me shiver both with fear and anger. I wanted desperately to take my frustration over the dead out on the living Uruk-hai. Each soldier we asked for news, but we could only gain snatches. I stood by the door, ushering the wounded in, directing them to places to rest, and assisting some. I was shocked, however, when an elf, strange to me, entered the room, bearing a young boy across his shoulders. He saw the surprise on my face as I noted the warrior's garb. He smiled ever so slightly.
"We are from Lorien, led by Haldir."
"Haldir!" I said, shocked, removing the boy from his shoulders.
The elf's face fell.
"He has fallen, I fear." I closed my eyes in a moment of silent grief, then quickly opened them.
"Please, what news of the battle?"
"We fare badly. The Uruk-hai are many, and our dead are mounting."
"What day is it?"
"It is the fourth evening," he said, knowing immediately of what I spoke.
"You think that we cannot win this battle," I said.
"I do," said the elf, grimly, before turning on his heel and returning above. I gritted my teeth, fighting the urge to disobey Aragorn and join the fight above. My eyes passed over the hundreds of wounded lying next to one another on the floor. My decision was made. Without speaking, I walked to the far corner of the chamber. Slipping of the dress over my riding garb, I pulled on my pair of tall boots that stood by my things. I donned my sword and bow, and slid my scimitar into the sheath across by back. Eowyn saw me, from where she attended a fallen soldier with an arrow through the shoulder. I caught her glance and threw her a grim smile. I half-jogged up the flights of stairs and walked out into the stormy night. Arrows flew in every direction, and Uruk-hai stood as far as the eye could see. The dead from both armies lay piled at the base of the walls. I drew blade and raced to the walls and began to aid the soldiers shoving back the hundreds of ladders. The men were so involved that they barely gave me a second glance. They were being defeated and they knew it. But they would fight to the death. Suddenly, a huge explosion wracked the structure.
"THEY'RE BREAKING THROUGH!" cried someone. I saw the king, standing on a turret a few yards above me.
"RETREAT!" he cried. "THEY'VE BROKEN INTO THE HORNBURG! RETREAT!" Orcs poured over the walls like water over a dam and the Eorlings and elves poured backwards towards the keep, and I ran with them. They began to barricade the doors, as the Uruk-hai crashed against them. It took me several moments to realize that Aragorn was in the same room. He cast me a furious glance, but it was quickly diverted.
They were going to break through any moment, and the battle would be over. We all knew it. I twisted my face, trying to think of some way out of the mess we were in. There had to be some way to beat back the Uruk-hai from this entrance. Suddenly, it occurred to me. I raced out of the hall and to where the horses were stabled. Alinea was in her stall, and I barely took the time to sling a bridal on her, before leaping on, and tearing down the hallway in the opposite direction. If I remembered correctly, there was a small door on the wall, several yards from the bridge. If I was lucky. I could get Alinea out of the door, and jump her to the bridge, and battle the Uruk-hai back from the outside. The same thought must have occurred to Aragorn and Gimli, however, because as I came tearing out of the door on horseback, I nearly knocked the two of them off of the wall.
"You just couldn't stay away, could you?" asked Aragorn.
"No," I said. He laughed a little, then looked to Gimli.
"It's a long way," he said. Gimli peered around the edge and made a face. He muttered something under his breath.
"What?" asked Aragorn, incredulously.
"I cannot make the distance, you'll have to toss me!" he growled. I almost laughed. Aragorn nodded, attempting to keep a straight face despite the situation. He was about to grab Gimli who said,
"Ah -- Aine, Aragorn -- don't tell the elf."
"Not a word," said Aragorn. I nodded. Aragorn tossed the dwarf and leaped after him. They quickly got out of my way as I spurred Alinea across.