Sound the Bugle
Disclaimer: All references to Middle-Earth, it's characters and plot belongs to J.R.R. Tolkien. I make no claims of ownership to any of these. The song "Sound the Bugle" belongs to Bryan Adams. Any misspellings, translations or general mistakes are not intended, so please disregard them.
Author's Note: I have chosen to make Hasufel be the horse that rescues Aragorn in this story, because I have heard conflicting theories of whether it was Hasufel or Brego, Theodred's old mount. I picked Hasufel, because that made more sense to me.
italics = song lyrics
/…/ = private thoughts
~…~ = flashbacks
Sound the bugle now
Play it just for me
Aragorn, son of Arathorn was in trouble. He was being dragged along the ground behind a running warg, his hand tangled in the straps of the beast's makeshift saddle. He had killed the goblin that had been riding this particular warg before getting his hand caught. His sword and knife were of no use to him at this moment, unless he wanted to finish this quest with only one hand.
He strained to look over his shoulder, trying to see what the warg was running towards. He caught a glimpse of the cliff edge and panicked. His only hope now was that Legolas, Gimli, or one of the Rohan would kill the beast.
As the warg drew closer to the cliff, he realized that no help was coming. Unless the warg turned aside in time, they were going over that cliff. The warg finally seemed to realize what was about to happen, and tried to turn away, but it had too much speed and momentum. Aragorn felt himself flung out over the edge of the cliff into thin air, and then he began to fall. His weight now worked against the warg, who was dragged, scrabbling, over the cliff with the ranger.
As the seasons change
Remember how I used to be
He fell through the air, narrowly avoiding hitting a ledge on the way down. The warg wasn't so lucky and slammed into the ledge, ripping part of the saddle free and freeing Aragorn. The warg was killed by the impact, but Aragorn continued to fall. The old cliché about seeing one's life pass in front of your eyes held true. He saw Arwen, staring at him as he left Rivendell to begin the quest. His mind traveled back over his life as a ranger, and the things that had already happened on the quest. One thing that stood out vividly for some reason was the variety of climates that they had traveled through as a Fellowship. Autumn in Rivendell, snow on Caradhras, the dark of Moria, and the light of Lothlorien. Now the summer-like conditions of Rohan.
Water closed about him, and he felt himself sinking as the rough rapids of the river shoved him underwater. He struggled to swim against the river, trying to get his head above water, but was shoved deeper under. His head struck a rock, and darkness closed about him. The last sensation he remembered was floating.
Water lapped against him, small stones dug into his skin. Pain shot through his body, and he ached in a million different places. The sun on his face turned the insides of his eyelids a golden yellow.
I'm a soldier
Wounded, so I must give up the fight
There's nothing more for me
Lead me away
Or leave me lying here
Aragorn felt the darkness grip him again, and he lost all conscious sensations and feelings. In the depths of his mind, he traveled back over his life, first as a child in Rivendell, and then the leader of the Dunadain for the past sixty years. He had wandered the wilds of Middle-Earth for those sixty years, exploring new places and protecting the innocent. After Gandalf's fall in the Mines of Moria, he had assumed leadership of the Fellowship, leading them to Lothlorien, and then to Ammon Hen, where Boromir had been killed and the Fellowship broken into three groups.
Sound the bugle now
Tell them I don't care
There's not a road I know
That leads to anywhere
He had failed. Failed to protect Frodo, failed to complete the quest. He couldn't continue, he was wounded in both body and spirit. He had done everything wrong.
Without a light I fear that I will
Stumble in the dark
Lay right down, decide not to go on
He opened his eyes, squinting against the sun. He fancied that he could see Arwen watching him, and he was ashamed. He had failed, and he had lost her forever. But Arwen smiled and leaned towards him for a kiss. He dreamed that kiss, knowing that she wasn't really there, but wishing that she was. Her voice whispered to him as she broke the kiss. ~May the grace of the Valar protect you.~
Arwen faded and disappeared, but the ranger's mind was drawn back to a memory he had had of her once, one that he had been thinking about for the past few days. Or maybe it was nothing more than a dream or vision, who could tell? Her voice echoed to him as from a great distance. ~If you trust nothing else, trust this. Trust us.~
Then from on high
Somewhere in the distance
There's a voice that calls
Remember who you are
A soft nose bumped him repeatedly, and warm breath blew into his face. He found himself staring up at Hasufel, who had apparently searched out his master and was now attempting to get him to mount.
Aragorn weakly grasped the stallion's bristly mane and as the horse dropped to his knees next to the ranger, he managed to pull himself onto the horse's back. He slumped forward as Hasufel rose to his feet, thrown slightly off balance by his rider's weight, but managing to compensate for it. As the stallion trotted off upstream, the ranger slumped forward even more, before losing consciousness again.
If you lose yourself
Your courage soon will follow
As the jarring of Hasufel's strides continued, Aragorn slowly came back to reality. He pushed himself upright, causing the stallion to slow slightly as the distribution of his rider's weight changed.
Aragorn blinked as they crested the ridge. Below him, he thought he saw a dark black wave washing towards him. He blinked again, trying to clear his vision, and the black wave resolved into the largest army of orcs that the ranger had ever seen. They carried banners with the White Hand of Saruman emblazoned on them, along with ladders, weapons, and siege instruments.
Aragorn quickly urged Hasufel into a gallop. That army was headed for Helm's Deep, and he had to warn Théoden, or the Rohan would be wiped out.
He rode for several hours, and as the sun began to sink behind him, they crested a hill. In front of him was the gorge that held the fortress of Helm's Deep. He leaned forward and patted the horse's neck. "Good job, my friend."
The ranger urged the horse forward, and a few minutes later he was clattering up the stone causeway towards the open gates. He charged through the gates and into the courtyard. The Rohan crowed around him and over the commotion, he heard Gimli yelling. "Where is he?! Let me through, I'm going to kill him!" The dwarf shoved past some of the people. "You are the most reckless, lucky man I've ever known! Bless you laddy!" Gimli hugged the ranger, who quickly broke away from him.
"Where is the king?" Gimli nodded towards the keep and Aragorn nodded. He moved up towards the keep, trying to straighten his clothing. He was looking down at the ground when a pair of soft, wrapped leather boots appeared in his line of sight. He stopped abruptly and looked up to meet Legolas' gaze. The elf stared at him. "You're late." he said calmly. Aragorn stared at the elf prince for a moment.
The dark blue eyes flicked over the ranger's sodden, muddy appearance. "You look terrible." Aragorn grinned and clapped a hand on the elf's shoulder.
Legolas extended his hand towards the ranger and slipped something inside his friend's hand. Aragorn glanced down at his hand and opened it. Sitting nestled in his palm was Arwen's necklace. Aragorn stared at it for a moment, before his hand went to his throat and felt for the necklace. He hadn't even realized it was gone, between the fall and his orc-spawned headache.
Aragorn quickly slipped the fine chain of the necklace back around his neck. "Hantach, nin mellon." The prince nodded and stepped out of the way, allowing Aragorn to pass him. Aragorn strode quickly to the doors and shoved them open, to see Théoden's startled gaze fix on him.
"Lord Aragorn, it is a pleasant surprise to see you again. I thought you fell from the cliff."
Aragorn nodded shortly. "I did, and was washed down river, but Hasufel found me and brought me here. Théoden-King, I must warn you. A great host of orcs marches this way from Isengard."
Théoden rose from his throne and paced past the ranger, studying the doors as he spoke. "A great host you say?"
Aragorn nodded. "All Isengard is emptied."
"How many?"
Aragorn looked grim. "Ten thousand strong at least."
Théoden turned to face him in shock. "Ten thousand?!"
The ranger nodded again, still grim. "It is an army bred for a single purpose. To destroy the world of Men. They will be here by nightfall."
Théoden turned and strode towards the door. "Let them come!"
So be strong tonight
Remember who you are
/Let them come./ Aragorn thought, recalling the king's words of only a few hours ago. All around them, rain poured down, thunder boomed, and lightening flashed. He stood on the wall with Legolas, Gimli and the elven archers that had arrived quite unexpectedly, sent by Elrond and Galadriel to aid the Rohan.
Outside the wall, facing the fortress stood ten thousand hideous Uruk-Hai. The mere sight of them was enough to send the bravest warrior running in fear, but to their credit, no one fled the battle.
Whatever happened tonight, Aragorn was proud to stand by the men of Rohan, fighting to save mankind from annihilation, and doing his part to help Frodo in his quest to destroy the Ring.
Yeah
You're a soldier now
Fighting in a battle
To be free once more
Yeah, that's worth fighting for
Translations:
Hantach nin mellon: Thank you, my friend. (I may be completely wrong on this, but I read this somewhere, so I used it.)