Calm Before The Storm
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
"So, Haldir, they are coming then?"
The two of them were sitting at a table within the Hornburg. The elvish captain nodded seriously. "Yes. They are ten thousand strong at least. I have brought only roughly a thousand elves with me, Estel, and these with me are from both Lorien and Imladris. You have perhaps three hundred people here. You know why I don't say soldiers. They are too young, too old. You have maybe a hundred true warriors here. The rest are stableboys and farmers and ranchers and old men and children."
"Ten thousand strong? They were half that when I saw them."
"They have picked up more orcs along the way, goblins, and Wild Men of the Border Lands."
Aragorn sighed. "Yes. And we must send children against them. Children and men old enough to be my grandfather."
"Yes. Lovely war, mellon-nin, that you've gotten yourself into."
"How did you talk all these elves coming to our aid, Haldir?" Aragorn asked.
"Well, when they heard that Estel needed warriors at the eastern border, they came. And I *am* the Captain of the Legions of Light," Haldir added, a tad smugly.
Aragorn grinned. He always found his friend's amazing haughtiness endearing.
Haldir saw the grin and grinned back, feigning offense. "You laugh at me? Don't be impertinent."
"Never," Aragorn replied, still smiling. "Besides, what *would* I do without Galadriel's Golden Bane?"
"You make sport of me now!" Haldir cried, his voice rising in mock indignity, although a smile still played at his lips. "And what would you do if I denied you aid, young foolish Hope?"
"I would thrash you," Aragorn answered cheerily.
Haldir laughed. "Hmph, says Longshanks the Ranger."
"Or I could blackmail you, of course."
"Blackmail? You risk to suggest that my record is sullied, you insolent brat?"
"Of course I would not dare to do such a thing," Aragorn replied, smiling. "But Elrohir and Elladan would not hesitate."
"Your brothers!"
"I'm sure they wouldn't have any qualms with recalling your many sordid affairs to the Court. Especially your part in their childhood pranks, since they were always punished, and you always remained unscathed."
"Ai, Estel, you bastard. You wouldn't dare!"
Aragorn only laughed again. Haldir joined him softly.
There was a few moments of silence between them. They sat, Aragorn smoking a pipe thoughtfully, Haldir merely sitting patiently, staring into the hearth. Aragorn was numb, weary. But more than that, he realized, he was relieved. Completely and utterly relieved. He didn't know exactly what that meant. Maybe that he had really thought there was no hope before Haldir came. He didn't want to know. He didn't care much for self-analysis, anyway.
All his life, he had known Haldir. Aragorn was as close to him as he was to Legolas. Despite the fact that he was from another elvendom than Haldir, and that Lorien and Imladris were rather different in ritual and culture, they had managed to stay in touch since Aragorn's childhood, since the two Courts were related by blood. Most of the major events in his life, Haldir had been there. Haldir had been the first person he told about his feelings for Arwen. Mostly because at the time, Arwen had been unofficially betrothed to Legolas...and that was a little awkward.
Still, Aragorn managed to love all of them equally. He loved Legolas's devotion, and Haldir's pride, and Arwen...he loved everything about Arwen. He loved his father and his brothers. Galadriel, like an aunt to him, and Celeborn. Even Thranduil, stern and stubborn. These wise, beautiful creatures...how they had all touched him, in their own ways.
Haldir yawned lazily. Aragorn was nonplussed. How the elf could manage to remain so completely tranquil in the face of destruction was beyond him.
"Haldir, we must prepare for battle. If they are as close as you say, they will be here by nightfall."
"Suddenly you're in a hurry, Elessar?"
"And you are not?"
"You have about five hours to prepare the Men of Rohan. My warriors are prepared to fight at any time."
Aragorn stood. "Let's begin preparations, then. We have not a second to spare."
Haldir laughed. "Are you trying to frighten me, Estel?"
Aragorn was exasperated beyond all measure. Haldir's calm was infuriating. "Haldir, don't you understand? It is the army of Saruman and Sauron! It is the Dark Army of Mordor!"
"Relax, mellon-nin. Do not go around shouting for people to get ready for battle. Do not go dragging the children from their mothers and the men from their wives until the last two hours before battle at least. If you take them before then, there will be trouble."
Haldir looked up at Aragorn, that dark stillness still in his eyes, that perfect calm of the storm. "I will give you a piece of advice, Estel, as a leader of your people. You can do almost anything for your mens' sense of confidence. You can remind them that no army has ever conquered this citadel, and that's true. You can give them the best weapons, the best armor, tell them that they're invincible, which is not so true, but couldn't hurt. And none of it will be worth a shit when they get out on the ramparts and see the army that I've seen coming at them, covering the plains like a great writhing shadow."
He stood and clapped Aragorn on the shoulder. "Take my counsel. Spring it on them at the last moment. Shovel them into their gear and shove a weapon into their hands and put them out there. Do not forget that these are not soldiers. There is no way they can prepare, and forewarning will only unnerve them. Give them an hour's notice, so they can say goodbyes to their families. But that's all. Until then, prepare the armory."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
It was time.
Foreboding wrapped around the air of the Deep like a cloak, though things went on as before. The women cooked eggs, baked bread, cut jerky, made knapsacks of food. The youngest children wandered aimlessly, hanging their heads, feeling the emotional climate probably better than any of the adults, like little deer trapped and scenting fire. They did not know what to do with themselves.
Gorgeous valuables of the Rohan littered the throne room of the Hornburg. Beautiful carpets, tapestries of the Riddermark herds, flying over the plains at full gallop. Silver and iron family heirlooms were piled haphazardly here and there, though there was too much integrity and fear for anyone to think to steal them.
Aragorn and Gimli and Legolas and Haldir went around to the gathered families of the Rohan, waking them from sleep, or taking them from their meals. "Get up, good men and women of Rohan, get up!" Haldir called, leaning down every few minutes to wake someone dragging them from comforting dreams. "You must get ready for battle! All able to carry a sword or wield a bow to the armory! Stand and be ready to be called!"
They moved through the throngs, picking out the able men, as young as nine and as old as ninety. A few young women, shield-maidens, daughters of families without sons, volunteered to fight, and with a moment's hesitation, Aragorn showed them to the armory along with the boys.
Some of the women screamed in helpless defiance as Aragorn and Haldir, leaders of the swordsmen and archers, picked their numbers over, taking men and boys and sometimes even older maidens.
Legolas watched all this silently. One little boy was crying, holding onto his father's jerkin, trying to take hold of the man's hands. "Daddy! Don't go!....Don't go...." The man took the boy's hand for a moment, then brushed the child away with impatient numbness. This shook Legolas more than the screaming women.
Some of the women threw themselves at the four of them, begging and pleading for this one and that one. Don't take him, please! If he goes, then so do I! One woman grabbed for the front of Haldir's golden fine-mail, appealing for the life of someone. Her fingers slipped on the tiny, smooth links.
Haldir listened to this for so long, his expression both pitying and appalled, and then his gaze grew cold and stern. He pulled the woman's hands gently from his front. "What did you think, my lady? That you traveled all this way for your pleasure? That this was some kind of holiday? Why do you think you were forced to come? Don't you understand!? They're coming! You can't let yourselves be killed. You can't go dumb to the slaughter, like stupid beasts.Your strong have got to fight."
Finally, they came to Tandir and Tamor. The boy stood proudly at his father's side, bow slung over his shoulder. "I am an archer," he said to Aragorn, as if announcing a royal title. "And my father is a swordsman."
"Good. You will come with me, then," Haldir said to the boy. He glanced at Tandir. "You will go with Aragorn."
Aragorn looked at the boy. Charming kid, he thought, gazing at the boy's fierce green eyes. We'll probably get him killed, too.
Legolas looked at Tamor. After a few seconds, he looked at Aragorn.
"Not this one, Aragorn. Send him to the caves with the girl."
Tandir looked hopeful, thinking maybe both his children would escape the selection, but Tamor's eyes flashed angrily. "What in the bloody hell are you talking about?! I'm fit to fight! I'm not going to hide like a toddler or a matron! I will battle!"
Aragorn kneeled in front of the boy, looking him in the face. He kept his voice only low enough for Tamor to hear. "You would fight, but if you and your father were to fall, who would care for your sister?"
"If I don't fight, and the Deep falls, who would keep an orc from maiming her?"
"...Fine. If you can fight, you fight."
"Aragorn..." Legolas said, ready to protest.
Aragorn looked back at him, gaze solemn. "I just don't know who else to get, Legolas." And he thought, silently, I'm tired of taking them. I'm tired of crying mothers and crying wives. I'm tired of irate fathers who do not want their sons to have to fight at their sides. I'm tired of childless wives begging me to fight alongside their husbands. But we need as many as we can get. So I take them anyway.
But most of them will die. And that means I have to pick and choose these men, these women, these children, and send them to a violent end just because they are strong enough, fast enough, to stand a sliver of a chance.
And they're all brave. They all go willingly. When a boy's mother cries, the boy is willing to fight. When a man's wife cries, he is still willing to fight. Because they love their king, and their home. But that's the worst part of it. None of them would say they would not defend the Deep. So they would defend it, and they would die doing it.
The boy was eager, maybe a little too eager, but enthusiasm was better than cowardice.
Legolas did not protest again.
Aragorn turned back to the boy and his father, nodding. "You and him get to the armory. Get fitted with mail and shields, if there are any left. Get any weapon you're able to wield. Archers on the ramparts. Swordsmen and such in the courtyard."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
There was a great heap of mail in the armory. It was passed out with quick, quiet efficiency. Without any spoken words of agreement, all men saved the best armor and shields for the women. They took for themselves the best weapons.
Aragorn's voice was quiet, soft with patient command, and all listened to him as if entranced. His aura of authority was something that could not be denied. The makeshift soldiers of Rohan watched him expectantly, their eyes hopeful.
"People of Rohan, we go now to battle the armies of Mordor and Isengard. There's a long road of suffering ahead of you, and a long night of toil. But don't lose courage. Muster your strength, and do not lose heart. You have the power to cut the chains that bind you to your fate. You alone can liberate your lands, and drive the Enemy from them. Drive out despair, and you will stay alive. If you fight bravely, the dawn will come. And so I tell you to let there be camaraderie among you. We are all brothers now, kings and stableboys, elf-lords and dwarves and farmers, and if the Rohan falls, we will all suffer the same fate. We will fight together or we will fall separately. Help one another. It's the only way to survive."
Haldir looked around at them, a passing expression that might have been disgust crossing his face. Disgust at the whole terrible situation, Legolas guessed.
"Move out," Haldir said, gently.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Don't forget to review!
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
"So, Haldir, they are coming then?"
The two of them were sitting at a table within the Hornburg. The elvish captain nodded seriously. "Yes. They are ten thousand strong at least. I have brought only roughly a thousand elves with me, Estel, and these with me are from both Lorien and Imladris. You have perhaps three hundred people here. You know why I don't say soldiers. They are too young, too old. You have maybe a hundred true warriors here. The rest are stableboys and farmers and ranchers and old men and children."
"Ten thousand strong? They were half that when I saw them."
"They have picked up more orcs along the way, goblins, and Wild Men of the Border Lands."
Aragorn sighed. "Yes. And we must send children against them. Children and men old enough to be my grandfather."
"Yes. Lovely war, mellon-nin, that you've gotten yourself into."
"How did you talk all these elves coming to our aid, Haldir?" Aragorn asked.
"Well, when they heard that Estel needed warriors at the eastern border, they came. And I *am* the Captain of the Legions of Light," Haldir added, a tad smugly.
Aragorn grinned. He always found his friend's amazing haughtiness endearing.
Haldir saw the grin and grinned back, feigning offense. "You laugh at me? Don't be impertinent."
"Never," Aragorn replied, still smiling. "Besides, what *would* I do without Galadriel's Golden Bane?"
"You make sport of me now!" Haldir cried, his voice rising in mock indignity, although a smile still played at his lips. "And what would you do if I denied you aid, young foolish Hope?"
"I would thrash you," Aragorn answered cheerily.
Haldir laughed. "Hmph, says Longshanks the Ranger."
"Or I could blackmail you, of course."
"Blackmail? You risk to suggest that my record is sullied, you insolent brat?"
"Of course I would not dare to do such a thing," Aragorn replied, smiling. "But Elrohir and Elladan would not hesitate."
"Your brothers!"
"I'm sure they wouldn't have any qualms with recalling your many sordid affairs to the Court. Especially your part in their childhood pranks, since they were always punished, and you always remained unscathed."
"Ai, Estel, you bastard. You wouldn't dare!"
Aragorn only laughed again. Haldir joined him softly.
There was a few moments of silence between them. They sat, Aragorn smoking a pipe thoughtfully, Haldir merely sitting patiently, staring into the hearth. Aragorn was numb, weary. But more than that, he realized, he was relieved. Completely and utterly relieved. He didn't know exactly what that meant. Maybe that he had really thought there was no hope before Haldir came. He didn't want to know. He didn't care much for self-analysis, anyway.
All his life, he had known Haldir. Aragorn was as close to him as he was to Legolas. Despite the fact that he was from another elvendom than Haldir, and that Lorien and Imladris were rather different in ritual and culture, they had managed to stay in touch since Aragorn's childhood, since the two Courts were related by blood. Most of the major events in his life, Haldir had been there. Haldir had been the first person he told about his feelings for Arwen. Mostly because at the time, Arwen had been unofficially betrothed to Legolas...and that was a little awkward.
Still, Aragorn managed to love all of them equally. He loved Legolas's devotion, and Haldir's pride, and Arwen...he loved everything about Arwen. He loved his father and his brothers. Galadriel, like an aunt to him, and Celeborn. Even Thranduil, stern and stubborn. These wise, beautiful creatures...how they had all touched him, in their own ways.
Haldir yawned lazily. Aragorn was nonplussed. How the elf could manage to remain so completely tranquil in the face of destruction was beyond him.
"Haldir, we must prepare for battle. If they are as close as you say, they will be here by nightfall."
"Suddenly you're in a hurry, Elessar?"
"And you are not?"
"You have about five hours to prepare the Men of Rohan. My warriors are prepared to fight at any time."
Aragorn stood. "Let's begin preparations, then. We have not a second to spare."
Haldir laughed. "Are you trying to frighten me, Estel?"
Aragorn was exasperated beyond all measure. Haldir's calm was infuriating. "Haldir, don't you understand? It is the army of Saruman and Sauron! It is the Dark Army of Mordor!"
"Relax, mellon-nin. Do not go around shouting for people to get ready for battle. Do not go dragging the children from their mothers and the men from their wives until the last two hours before battle at least. If you take them before then, there will be trouble."
Haldir looked up at Aragorn, that dark stillness still in his eyes, that perfect calm of the storm. "I will give you a piece of advice, Estel, as a leader of your people. You can do almost anything for your mens' sense of confidence. You can remind them that no army has ever conquered this citadel, and that's true. You can give them the best weapons, the best armor, tell them that they're invincible, which is not so true, but couldn't hurt. And none of it will be worth a shit when they get out on the ramparts and see the army that I've seen coming at them, covering the plains like a great writhing shadow."
He stood and clapped Aragorn on the shoulder. "Take my counsel. Spring it on them at the last moment. Shovel them into their gear and shove a weapon into their hands and put them out there. Do not forget that these are not soldiers. There is no way they can prepare, and forewarning will only unnerve them. Give them an hour's notice, so they can say goodbyes to their families. But that's all. Until then, prepare the armory."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
It was time.
Foreboding wrapped around the air of the Deep like a cloak, though things went on as before. The women cooked eggs, baked bread, cut jerky, made knapsacks of food. The youngest children wandered aimlessly, hanging their heads, feeling the emotional climate probably better than any of the adults, like little deer trapped and scenting fire. They did not know what to do with themselves.
Gorgeous valuables of the Rohan littered the throne room of the Hornburg. Beautiful carpets, tapestries of the Riddermark herds, flying over the plains at full gallop. Silver and iron family heirlooms were piled haphazardly here and there, though there was too much integrity and fear for anyone to think to steal them.
Aragorn and Gimli and Legolas and Haldir went around to the gathered families of the Rohan, waking them from sleep, or taking them from their meals. "Get up, good men and women of Rohan, get up!" Haldir called, leaning down every few minutes to wake someone dragging them from comforting dreams. "You must get ready for battle! All able to carry a sword or wield a bow to the armory! Stand and be ready to be called!"
They moved through the throngs, picking out the able men, as young as nine and as old as ninety. A few young women, shield-maidens, daughters of families without sons, volunteered to fight, and with a moment's hesitation, Aragorn showed them to the armory along with the boys.
Some of the women screamed in helpless defiance as Aragorn and Haldir, leaders of the swordsmen and archers, picked their numbers over, taking men and boys and sometimes even older maidens.
Legolas watched all this silently. One little boy was crying, holding onto his father's jerkin, trying to take hold of the man's hands. "Daddy! Don't go!....Don't go...." The man took the boy's hand for a moment, then brushed the child away with impatient numbness. This shook Legolas more than the screaming women.
Some of the women threw themselves at the four of them, begging and pleading for this one and that one. Don't take him, please! If he goes, then so do I! One woman grabbed for the front of Haldir's golden fine-mail, appealing for the life of someone. Her fingers slipped on the tiny, smooth links.
Haldir listened to this for so long, his expression both pitying and appalled, and then his gaze grew cold and stern. He pulled the woman's hands gently from his front. "What did you think, my lady? That you traveled all this way for your pleasure? That this was some kind of holiday? Why do you think you were forced to come? Don't you understand!? They're coming! You can't let yourselves be killed. You can't go dumb to the slaughter, like stupid beasts.Your strong have got to fight."
Finally, they came to Tandir and Tamor. The boy stood proudly at his father's side, bow slung over his shoulder. "I am an archer," he said to Aragorn, as if announcing a royal title. "And my father is a swordsman."
"Good. You will come with me, then," Haldir said to the boy. He glanced at Tandir. "You will go with Aragorn."
Aragorn looked at the boy. Charming kid, he thought, gazing at the boy's fierce green eyes. We'll probably get him killed, too.
Legolas looked at Tamor. After a few seconds, he looked at Aragorn.
"Not this one, Aragorn. Send him to the caves with the girl."
Tandir looked hopeful, thinking maybe both his children would escape the selection, but Tamor's eyes flashed angrily. "What in the bloody hell are you talking about?! I'm fit to fight! I'm not going to hide like a toddler or a matron! I will battle!"
Aragorn kneeled in front of the boy, looking him in the face. He kept his voice only low enough for Tamor to hear. "You would fight, but if you and your father were to fall, who would care for your sister?"
"If I don't fight, and the Deep falls, who would keep an orc from maiming her?"
"...Fine. If you can fight, you fight."
"Aragorn..." Legolas said, ready to protest.
Aragorn looked back at him, gaze solemn. "I just don't know who else to get, Legolas." And he thought, silently, I'm tired of taking them. I'm tired of crying mothers and crying wives. I'm tired of irate fathers who do not want their sons to have to fight at their sides. I'm tired of childless wives begging me to fight alongside their husbands. But we need as many as we can get. So I take them anyway.
But most of them will die. And that means I have to pick and choose these men, these women, these children, and send them to a violent end just because they are strong enough, fast enough, to stand a sliver of a chance.
And they're all brave. They all go willingly. When a boy's mother cries, the boy is willing to fight. When a man's wife cries, he is still willing to fight. Because they love their king, and their home. But that's the worst part of it. None of them would say they would not defend the Deep. So they would defend it, and they would die doing it.
The boy was eager, maybe a little too eager, but enthusiasm was better than cowardice.
Legolas did not protest again.
Aragorn turned back to the boy and his father, nodding. "You and him get to the armory. Get fitted with mail and shields, if there are any left. Get any weapon you're able to wield. Archers on the ramparts. Swordsmen and such in the courtyard."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
There was a great heap of mail in the armory. It was passed out with quick, quiet efficiency. Without any spoken words of agreement, all men saved the best armor and shields for the women. They took for themselves the best weapons.
Aragorn's voice was quiet, soft with patient command, and all listened to him as if entranced. His aura of authority was something that could not be denied. The makeshift soldiers of Rohan watched him expectantly, their eyes hopeful.
"People of Rohan, we go now to battle the armies of Mordor and Isengard. There's a long road of suffering ahead of you, and a long night of toil. But don't lose courage. Muster your strength, and do not lose heart. You have the power to cut the chains that bind you to your fate. You alone can liberate your lands, and drive the Enemy from them. Drive out despair, and you will stay alive. If you fight bravely, the dawn will come. And so I tell you to let there be camaraderie among you. We are all brothers now, kings and stableboys, elf-lords and dwarves and farmers, and if the Rohan falls, we will all suffer the same fate. We will fight together or we will fall separately. Help one another. It's the only way to survive."
Haldir looked around at them, a passing expression that might have been disgust crossing his face. Disgust at the whole terrible situation, Legolas guessed.
"Move out," Haldir said, gently.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Don't forget to review!