Gandalf, Aragorn, Legolas, and Gimli were riding swiftly across the plains
of Rohan towards Edoras. Gandalf was leading the way, but with his elven
eyes Legolas saw the furthest. It was he who first spotted the stranger.
"Gandalf," he called, "there is something up ahead." Gandalf slowed his horse, Shadowfox, to draw even with the elf and the dwarf who sat behind him.
"What do you see?" he asked.
"It looks like a rider," Legolas said, squinting to see the same clearer, "headed towards Edoras. He is slumped limply over his saddle. He.he looks." Legolas paused. "dead."
"Strange indeed is it when a rider ventures out alone through the plains these days," commented Aragorn. "We should ride to him, and aid him. That is, if there is any aid left to be given. He could very well be a messenger of the Riddermark!"
They spurred their horses on with greater speed and came upon the stranger rather quickly. Gimli, the dwarf, grunted at seeing the rider up close. "What land clads their people in such queer attire?"
Aragorn rode up alongside the man and pulled him in an upright position. His head rolled to one side and his face was drenched in blood.
"I fear we have come too late," he sighed.
Legolas stared at the man quizzically. He was different somehow. Suddenly he noticed a small flicker of his eyelids.
"No," he said swiftly, "this man is yet alive!" He pulled on the horses other side and placed his hand in front of the man's face. "I can feel his breath. There is still hope!"
"We shall take him with us to the Golden Hall of Medulsed," said Gandalf. "Quickly, bind him to his horse so he will not fall. We haven't any time to spare. Hurry!"
Aragorn and Legolas tied ropes around the man's arms and legs to keep him balanced while galloping. They set off again, with Legolas and Gimli behind the stranger, to make sure that he would not fall. Legolas gazed at the man, who wore his hair pulled completely back into a loose knot. He wore britches of a strange, faded blue rough material and had a hole worn in one of the knees. The cloth coloring the man's chest was utterly unknown to him. It was big and bulky with a hood. It was almost like a cloak only it ended at his waist and did not fasten at the front. There was something strange, different about this man. Legolas could feel it, but it was not a feel of foreboding. It was quite the opposite. Legolas very much wanted to learn who this stranger was, where had had come from and what was his purpose. It would have to wait, however. They needed to reach King Theoden and prepare for the inevitable war. Of course, being an elf, it never entered his mind that this new guest might not even last the night. He had lost a lot of blood and had taken a considerable blow the head.
The companions arrived at the Golden Hall at sunset. Gandalf went to deal with Wormtongue and the King with Aragorn and Gimli accompanying him while Legolas tended to their wounded rider. He took him into a large, open room and placed him on the bed. Legolas sent for water and rags to clean the wounds while he pulled the man's hair back out of his face. Legolas quickly dampened a rag and started to wash away some of the blood that had caked onto his face. He had gotten most of it off when he suddenly realized that this man was not what he appeared to be. In face the man a man at all, but rather a young woman! All of the blood and dirt had distorted her features so that one could not so easily tell. Underneath all of her cuts and bruises, Legolas guessed that she was quite fair. He cleaned her up and did all that he could for her injuries before having a maid come in to tend to the lady's clothing. He then rushed quickly back to the Hall to tell the others of his findings.
"Gandalf," he called, "there is something up ahead." Gandalf slowed his horse, Shadowfox, to draw even with the elf and the dwarf who sat behind him.
"What do you see?" he asked.
"It looks like a rider," Legolas said, squinting to see the same clearer, "headed towards Edoras. He is slumped limply over his saddle. He.he looks." Legolas paused. "dead."
"Strange indeed is it when a rider ventures out alone through the plains these days," commented Aragorn. "We should ride to him, and aid him. That is, if there is any aid left to be given. He could very well be a messenger of the Riddermark!"
They spurred their horses on with greater speed and came upon the stranger rather quickly. Gimli, the dwarf, grunted at seeing the rider up close. "What land clads their people in such queer attire?"
Aragorn rode up alongside the man and pulled him in an upright position. His head rolled to one side and his face was drenched in blood.
"I fear we have come too late," he sighed.
Legolas stared at the man quizzically. He was different somehow. Suddenly he noticed a small flicker of his eyelids.
"No," he said swiftly, "this man is yet alive!" He pulled on the horses other side and placed his hand in front of the man's face. "I can feel his breath. There is still hope!"
"We shall take him with us to the Golden Hall of Medulsed," said Gandalf. "Quickly, bind him to his horse so he will not fall. We haven't any time to spare. Hurry!"
Aragorn and Legolas tied ropes around the man's arms and legs to keep him balanced while galloping. They set off again, with Legolas and Gimli behind the stranger, to make sure that he would not fall. Legolas gazed at the man, who wore his hair pulled completely back into a loose knot. He wore britches of a strange, faded blue rough material and had a hole worn in one of the knees. The cloth coloring the man's chest was utterly unknown to him. It was big and bulky with a hood. It was almost like a cloak only it ended at his waist and did not fasten at the front. There was something strange, different about this man. Legolas could feel it, but it was not a feel of foreboding. It was quite the opposite. Legolas very much wanted to learn who this stranger was, where had had come from and what was his purpose. It would have to wait, however. They needed to reach King Theoden and prepare for the inevitable war. Of course, being an elf, it never entered his mind that this new guest might not even last the night. He had lost a lot of blood and had taken a considerable blow the head.
The companions arrived at the Golden Hall at sunset. Gandalf went to deal with Wormtongue and the King with Aragorn and Gimli accompanying him while Legolas tended to their wounded rider. He took him into a large, open room and placed him on the bed. Legolas sent for water and rags to clean the wounds while he pulled the man's hair back out of his face. Legolas quickly dampened a rag and started to wash away some of the blood that had caked onto his face. He had gotten most of it off when he suddenly realized that this man was not what he appeared to be. In face the man a man at all, but rather a young woman! All of the blood and dirt had distorted her features so that one could not so easily tell. Underneath all of her cuts and bruises, Legolas guessed that she was quite fair. He cleaned her up and did all that he could for her injuries before having a maid come in to tend to the lady's clothing. He then rushed quickly back to the Hall to tell the others of his findings.