~ Sightseeing in Middle-Earth ~
~ Disclaimer: ~
I own nobody but Erin.
~ Chapter IX~
~ Riders of Rohan and Erin's Home ~
Much to my delight, Boromir was well enough to travel by nightfall, which meant that we were keeping on schedule with the plot I knew. Unfortunately, he and I did slow the party down, though Aragorn would not admit to it. We also took longer breaks, and stopped sooner and started later. I figured we lost a good half a day with all the rests, so instead of hearing the Rohan riders sometime in the morning, we heard them in the late afternoon. I had been afraid we might miss them, being late, but it seemed we were heading pretty much straight for each other, unable to miss no matter how far behind we'd fallen. So, when Aragorn put his ear to ground to listen for the riders, and Legolas started straining his eyes to see something ahead of us, I looked around for a hiding spot. Seeing some rocks off to the right, I hiked my pack farther up on my back and marched over to it.
"Lady Erin?" at Aragorn's voice, I stopped and turned. He was looking at me curiously, obviously wondering where I was going.
"Rock. Nice sitting place." I said rather unintelligibly, pointing to a rock, then turned and took the last few steps to the rocks, and sat down on top of one to prove my point. Boromir quickly came and joined me, and a few moments later, so did Gimli, Legolas and Aragorn.
"There is a host of riders coming this way." Aragorn announced.
"Over a hundred, all armed." Legolas put in. "Little more then five leagues distant."
"We cannot escape them in this land. Shall we wait here for them or go on our way?" Gimli asked.
"We shall wait." Aragorn replied. "Lady Erin and Boromir need to rest, and our hunt has failed. Or at least others reached our prey before us - the riders are coming back down the Orc's trail. And we may get news from them."
"Or spears." Gimli said gruffly.
"I could see no hobbits among the riders." Legolas informed us.
"I did not say we would hear good news." Aragorn commented, and the others were silent at that. So we stayed among the rocks, wrapping our Elven cloaks from Lothlorien about us, and waited for the riders to come. For me, it was incredibly boring. I knew vaguely what was coming and wasn't worried, though everyone else was tense.
Finally, Gimli, unable to stand the silence, asked Aragorn what he knew of the riders. Aragorn replied with a nice description of the Rohan riders, and Boromir added to it, as well. When Gimli mentioned something about the Rohirrim paying tribute to Mordor, Boromir nearly snapped his head off. The dwarf sulked quietly after that, shooting glares Boromir's way, amusing me to no end. A sulking dwarf is a very amusing sight, no matter where you are.
Finally, the horses were near enough that those of us without sharp Elven or ranger hearing could hear them. It was a quiet rumbling, at first, like distant thunder, but it quickly got louder, and the noise level continued to rise until, as the riders galloped by our hiding place, the noise was about equal to a dozen trains going by at once. Then the end of the riders was in sight, and I almost sighed in relief. The tail end of the riders went by, and the noise began to quiet again, when Aragorn jumped out of his hiding spot and turned to face the backs of the horsemen as they rode off.
"What news from the north, Riders of Rohan?" Aragorn's voice carried on the wind, none too clearly, yet the riders knew they were being spoken to, and, as one, wheeled their horses around and came riding back. Legolas and Gimli jumped up to join Aragorn, but Boromir didn't even bother trying to get up, apparently too tired, and I figured it was better to stay with him. So Boromir and I watched, me with interest, Boromir with concern, as the riders surrounded Aragorn, Legolas and Gimli. I couldn't hear what was said, but I imagine it was close to what the book had, since there was only the three that were supposed to be there. There was some commotion at the beginning, but eventually it died down, and finally some of the riders rode off aways. Then Aragorn motioned over to where Boromir and I were, and a curious Eomer followed as Aragorn led him over to where we sat.
"Behold, Eomer - Boromir, son of Denethor, and the Lady Erin, our other traveling companions." Aragorn introduced once they were close enough to see us.
"Yo." I said blandly. Eomer looked at me strangely, then greeted Boromir in a formal manner. Boromir greeted him back, and then Eomer turned to Aragorn.
"All that you say is strange, Aragorn." he said, his brow furrowing. "Yet you speak the truth, that is plain - the Men of the Mark do no lie, and therefore are not easily deceived. But you have not told all. Will you or your companions not now speak more fully of your errand, so that I may judge what to do?"
I had to admire Aragorn, he didn't even hesitate before telling Eomer a nice little story about us planning to go to Minas Tirith to help the city fight against Sauron, and Boromir was just as quick to back him up. Nothing that he said was untrue, really, except about what our original destination was, but it didn't let on anything about the Ring and Frodo. When Aragorn announced that Gandalf had been our leader, Eomer seemed quite happy to believe everything we said, then he warned us that merely being friends of Gandalf would not get us treated nicely, anymore, as the King now thought of Gandalf as a bringer of evil.
Then Eomer went on to tell us the story of Gandalf's acquiring Shadowfax, and the subsequent return of the horse. That was Aragorn's cue to put in about Gandalf's death, and the conversation continued, boring me very much. It was amusing for a short bit when Eomer practically went into shock as he realized how far we'd traveled in four days, but the rest was singularly uninteresting, at least until the end. That was when Aragorn asked Eomer to take Boromir and I back to Edoras with him. Boromir protested immediately, but I stayed quiet. Aragorn, annoyed with Boromir for disagreeing with him, tried to reason with him, but Boromir would have nothing of it. Finally, I spoke up, tired of the arguing.
"Even if you will not go, Boromir, I will. I need a rest - my shoulder needs time to heal - and I won't get that continuing after the Orcs," I said, and Boromir magically changed his mind about where he was going. I had to hold back a smile.
Then Eomer said that he would still expect Aragorn, Gimli and Legolas to come back, especially with the horses he was lending them, and I added that if they didn't come back, I'd go out and find them myself. It wasn't much far from the truth - Aragorn needed to come to Edoras for the plot to continue, and if he didn't, I would have to go out and make him. With both of us insisting, Aragorn, Legolas and Gimli readily agreed to come back to Edoras, and Eomer had horses brought for the three of them. Gimli, of course, refused to ride, but Legolas managed to coax him into riding behind him on Arod. Then Eomer turned to Boromir and I.
"It is well that your dwarven friend would not ride on his own, for we have but three riderless horses, and two have already gone with your companions." he said.
"Then we'll ride double." I said. "I don't think Boromir could stay on a horse by himself, anyways."
"No more then you could handle the reins of one by yourself." Boromir replied dryly, and Eomer glanced between us.
"Why do you speak so?" he asked. "You both look sound and capable of riding to me." I realized then that he hadn't been told that we were injured, though he must have guessed something to that effect at my speech announcing I was going with him and the other Rohirrim to Edoras.
"We had a nasty run in with those Orcs you killed while trying to save our friends." I said dryly. "I got shot in the shoulder, and Boromir got a solid whack in the head from an Orc shield."
"I see. Well then perhaps it would be better if you each rode with one of the riders." Eomer said thoughtfully.
"Uh - no." I said. Eomer was going to be thrown in prison when he got back, though he didn't know it, and I didn't want to join him there, nor did I want Boromir to join him there. Besides the fact that prisons in Middle-Earth didn't sound terribly inviting, it would probably make Boromir and my's wounds worse instead of better. It would be much more handy if Boromir and I rode on a single horse together, where we could simply fall back and disappear into the mass of riders and wait for Aragorn, Gimli, Legolas and Gandalf to show up. My flat refusal, however, took Eomer by surprise. Boromir, having gotten used to my rather assertive personality, hid a grin.
"M'lady, it would be most -" Eomer began, but I cut him off.
"Eomer, I've out argued Aragorn. Boromir and I will ride double, or we'll walk, and you can explain to Aragorn when he gets to Edoras why we're still a days walk away." I said flatly. Several of the nearby riders of Rohan looked incensed at my insolence, but Eomer sighed and accepted it. So Boromir and I mounted the horse - him behind, me in front - and, after Eomer told us the horses name was Mertan, we got underway.
We rode steady for the rest of the day, and, to my surprise, the night as well. The only acknowledgement the riders made to the night was that we slowed down to a careful walk. Eomer, once we'd slowed down, tried to strike up a conversation with Boromir and I. I, however, was dead tired, and after carrying on a half-hearted conversation for a short while, announced I was going to sleep, then leaned back against Boromir, closed my eyes, and was asleep within a few moments. I know Boromir and Eomer talked quietly while I was asleep - it kept me from slipping into a truly peaceful sleep, instead keeping me in the restless dreaming state.
I hadn't dreamed since I'd come to Middle-Earth. I don't know why - I suppose it's because every day had found me so tired and spent at the end that I fell immediately into a deep sleep without dreams. Or maybe it was the simple fact that I felt more relaxed in Middle-Earth, even when there were Orcs and Nazgul and other evil things out to kill me. But whatever the reason, on that ride with Boromir, I dreamt for the first time.
I dreamt of home. Or, more accurately, I had nightmares of home. My home is not a pretty place. I live in one of the small suburbs on the outskirts of Toronto, one of the worst, in fact, with my parents and my brother. Well, I would live with my brother if he wasn't always in jail for some minor offence or another. Sometimes I envy him for that. My home is never quiet, my parents are always fighting. They never stop - and yet, they never leave each other.
When I was younger, I remember someone taunting me that my parents were too lazy to break up, and as I grew older, I realized it was true. Neither of them could be that incredibly bothered to get up, pack their things, and leave. Of course, you would expect that from them just from looking at them. Take the first image you get of the parents in a dysfunctional family - probably a father with a beer belly and a mother on drugs - and you've got my parents.
They've been like that ever since I can remember. I don't have a single memory in which there was pure happiness in my families home - not even at Christmas. And the only time I can ever remember my house being quiet was New Years day, 2001 - and that was only because my parents and my brother were all passed out, having drunk themselves into that state at various parties before their friends had dragged them home. The rest of the time, there's always noise of some sort, whether it's from the TV, stereo, people yelling at each other, or any combination of the three.
So, as you can imagine, dreams of home are never happy, always nightmares. I dreamed of my father coming home, and yelling at my mother - typical. I dreamed of my brother - in jail, where I'd visited him so many times before. Other dreams were less coherent, and I could barely remember them, except for the undeniable feeling that they were of HOME and they were NOT HAPPY.
It was with great relief that I woke with the light of the early dawn, to see Edoras on a hill not far distant. Beside me, Eomer rode, looking as if he was going to meet his doom, and I realized that he knew he was going to be imprisoned. As I stirred, Eomer looked over at me.
"Boromir's asleep, isn't he?" I asked, when I realized that the weight of Boromir's torso was resting completely on me, pushing me forward.
"Yes, he fell asleep a short while ago." Eomer replied. "Though he tried his hardest to remain awake until you woke."
"He should have woken me if he needed sleep." I said, and Eomer glanced at me.
"I do not think he could bring himself to wake you." he said quietly.
"Probably," I muttered. There was a short silence, and I was trying to figure out how to drop back from Eomer without getting curious looks, when suddenly Eomer spoke up, calling one of his men to him.
"Lady Erin, this is Irundin. I think it is best that you stay close to him near the rear of our host as we enter Edoras. I left to hunt your Orcs without my Kings permission, and I do not know how I will be greeted," Eomer introduced.
"None too kindly," I said softly. "But you will be forgiven within a day." The two men looked at me oddly, and I just smiled softly. "It is a gift and a curse, and does not always work," I said simply, and the two seemed to accept my explanation. Irundin, for his part, nodded to me, then headed back along the line of riders, and I turned and followed.
~ Disclaimer: ~
I own nobody but Erin.
~ Chapter IX~
~ Riders of Rohan and Erin's Home ~
Much to my delight, Boromir was well enough to travel by nightfall, which meant that we were keeping on schedule with the plot I knew. Unfortunately, he and I did slow the party down, though Aragorn would not admit to it. We also took longer breaks, and stopped sooner and started later. I figured we lost a good half a day with all the rests, so instead of hearing the Rohan riders sometime in the morning, we heard them in the late afternoon. I had been afraid we might miss them, being late, but it seemed we were heading pretty much straight for each other, unable to miss no matter how far behind we'd fallen. So, when Aragorn put his ear to ground to listen for the riders, and Legolas started straining his eyes to see something ahead of us, I looked around for a hiding spot. Seeing some rocks off to the right, I hiked my pack farther up on my back and marched over to it.
"Lady Erin?" at Aragorn's voice, I stopped and turned. He was looking at me curiously, obviously wondering where I was going.
"Rock. Nice sitting place." I said rather unintelligibly, pointing to a rock, then turned and took the last few steps to the rocks, and sat down on top of one to prove my point. Boromir quickly came and joined me, and a few moments later, so did Gimli, Legolas and Aragorn.
"There is a host of riders coming this way." Aragorn announced.
"Over a hundred, all armed." Legolas put in. "Little more then five leagues distant."
"We cannot escape them in this land. Shall we wait here for them or go on our way?" Gimli asked.
"We shall wait." Aragorn replied. "Lady Erin and Boromir need to rest, and our hunt has failed. Or at least others reached our prey before us - the riders are coming back down the Orc's trail. And we may get news from them."
"Or spears." Gimli said gruffly.
"I could see no hobbits among the riders." Legolas informed us.
"I did not say we would hear good news." Aragorn commented, and the others were silent at that. So we stayed among the rocks, wrapping our Elven cloaks from Lothlorien about us, and waited for the riders to come. For me, it was incredibly boring. I knew vaguely what was coming and wasn't worried, though everyone else was tense.
Finally, Gimli, unable to stand the silence, asked Aragorn what he knew of the riders. Aragorn replied with a nice description of the Rohan riders, and Boromir added to it, as well. When Gimli mentioned something about the Rohirrim paying tribute to Mordor, Boromir nearly snapped his head off. The dwarf sulked quietly after that, shooting glares Boromir's way, amusing me to no end. A sulking dwarf is a very amusing sight, no matter where you are.
Finally, the horses were near enough that those of us without sharp Elven or ranger hearing could hear them. It was a quiet rumbling, at first, like distant thunder, but it quickly got louder, and the noise level continued to rise until, as the riders galloped by our hiding place, the noise was about equal to a dozen trains going by at once. Then the end of the riders was in sight, and I almost sighed in relief. The tail end of the riders went by, and the noise began to quiet again, when Aragorn jumped out of his hiding spot and turned to face the backs of the horsemen as they rode off.
"What news from the north, Riders of Rohan?" Aragorn's voice carried on the wind, none too clearly, yet the riders knew they were being spoken to, and, as one, wheeled their horses around and came riding back. Legolas and Gimli jumped up to join Aragorn, but Boromir didn't even bother trying to get up, apparently too tired, and I figured it was better to stay with him. So Boromir and I watched, me with interest, Boromir with concern, as the riders surrounded Aragorn, Legolas and Gimli. I couldn't hear what was said, but I imagine it was close to what the book had, since there was only the three that were supposed to be there. There was some commotion at the beginning, but eventually it died down, and finally some of the riders rode off aways. Then Aragorn motioned over to where Boromir and I were, and a curious Eomer followed as Aragorn led him over to where we sat.
"Behold, Eomer - Boromir, son of Denethor, and the Lady Erin, our other traveling companions." Aragorn introduced once they were close enough to see us.
"Yo." I said blandly. Eomer looked at me strangely, then greeted Boromir in a formal manner. Boromir greeted him back, and then Eomer turned to Aragorn.
"All that you say is strange, Aragorn." he said, his brow furrowing. "Yet you speak the truth, that is plain - the Men of the Mark do no lie, and therefore are not easily deceived. But you have not told all. Will you or your companions not now speak more fully of your errand, so that I may judge what to do?"
I had to admire Aragorn, he didn't even hesitate before telling Eomer a nice little story about us planning to go to Minas Tirith to help the city fight against Sauron, and Boromir was just as quick to back him up. Nothing that he said was untrue, really, except about what our original destination was, but it didn't let on anything about the Ring and Frodo. When Aragorn announced that Gandalf had been our leader, Eomer seemed quite happy to believe everything we said, then he warned us that merely being friends of Gandalf would not get us treated nicely, anymore, as the King now thought of Gandalf as a bringer of evil.
Then Eomer went on to tell us the story of Gandalf's acquiring Shadowfax, and the subsequent return of the horse. That was Aragorn's cue to put in about Gandalf's death, and the conversation continued, boring me very much. It was amusing for a short bit when Eomer practically went into shock as he realized how far we'd traveled in four days, but the rest was singularly uninteresting, at least until the end. That was when Aragorn asked Eomer to take Boromir and I back to Edoras with him. Boromir protested immediately, but I stayed quiet. Aragorn, annoyed with Boromir for disagreeing with him, tried to reason with him, but Boromir would have nothing of it. Finally, I spoke up, tired of the arguing.
"Even if you will not go, Boromir, I will. I need a rest - my shoulder needs time to heal - and I won't get that continuing after the Orcs," I said, and Boromir magically changed his mind about where he was going. I had to hold back a smile.
Then Eomer said that he would still expect Aragorn, Gimli and Legolas to come back, especially with the horses he was lending them, and I added that if they didn't come back, I'd go out and find them myself. It wasn't much far from the truth - Aragorn needed to come to Edoras for the plot to continue, and if he didn't, I would have to go out and make him. With both of us insisting, Aragorn, Legolas and Gimli readily agreed to come back to Edoras, and Eomer had horses brought for the three of them. Gimli, of course, refused to ride, but Legolas managed to coax him into riding behind him on Arod. Then Eomer turned to Boromir and I.
"It is well that your dwarven friend would not ride on his own, for we have but three riderless horses, and two have already gone with your companions." he said.
"Then we'll ride double." I said. "I don't think Boromir could stay on a horse by himself, anyways."
"No more then you could handle the reins of one by yourself." Boromir replied dryly, and Eomer glanced between us.
"Why do you speak so?" he asked. "You both look sound and capable of riding to me." I realized then that he hadn't been told that we were injured, though he must have guessed something to that effect at my speech announcing I was going with him and the other Rohirrim to Edoras.
"We had a nasty run in with those Orcs you killed while trying to save our friends." I said dryly. "I got shot in the shoulder, and Boromir got a solid whack in the head from an Orc shield."
"I see. Well then perhaps it would be better if you each rode with one of the riders." Eomer said thoughtfully.
"Uh - no." I said. Eomer was going to be thrown in prison when he got back, though he didn't know it, and I didn't want to join him there, nor did I want Boromir to join him there. Besides the fact that prisons in Middle-Earth didn't sound terribly inviting, it would probably make Boromir and my's wounds worse instead of better. It would be much more handy if Boromir and I rode on a single horse together, where we could simply fall back and disappear into the mass of riders and wait for Aragorn, Gimli, Legolas and Gandalf to show up. My flat refusal, however, took Eomer by surprise. Boromir, having gotten used to my rather assertive personality, hid a grin.
"M'lady, it would be most -" Eomer began, but I cut him off.
"Eomer, I've out argued Aragorn. Boromir and I will ride double, or we'll walk, and you can explain to Aragorn when he gets to Edoras why we're still a days walk away." I said flatly. Several of the nearby riders of Rohan looked incensed at my insolence, but Eomer sighed and accepted it. So Boromir and I mounted the horse - him behind, me in front - and, after Eomer told us the horses name was Mertan, we got underway.
We rode steady for the rest of the day, and, to my surprise, the night as well. The only acknowledgement the riders made to the night was that we slowed down to a careful walk. Eomer, once we'd slowed down, tried to strike up a conversation with Boromir and I. I, however, was dead tired, and after carrying on a half-hearted conversation for a short while, announced I was going to sleep, then leaned back against Boromir, closed my eyes, and was asleep within a few moments. I know Boromir and Eomer talked quietly while I was asleep - it kept me from slipping into a truly peaceful sleep, instead keeping me in the restless dreaming state.
I hadn't dreamed since I'd come to Middle-Earth. I don't know why - I suppose it's because every day had found me so tired and spent at the end that I fell immediately into a deep sleep without dreams. Or maybe it was the simple fact that I felt more relaxed in Middle-Earth, even when there were Orcs and Nazgul and other evil things out to kill me. But whatever the reason, on that ride with Boromir, I dreamt for the first time.
I dreamt of home. Or, more accurately, I had nightmares of home. My home is not a pretty place. I live in one of the small suburbs on the outskirts of Toronto, one of the worst, in fact, with my parents and my brother. Well, I would live with my brother if he wasn't always in jail for some minor offence or another. Sometimes I envy him for that. My home is never quiet, my parents are always fighting. They never stop - and yet, they never leave each other.
When I was younger, I remember someone taunting me that my parents were too lazy to break up, and as I grew older, I realized it was true. Neither of them could be that incredibly bothered to get up, pack their things, and leave. Of course, you would expect that from them just from looking at them. Take the first image you get of the parents in a dysfunctional family - probably a father with a beer belly and a mother on drugs - and you've got my parents.
They've been like that ever since I can remember. I don't have a single memory in which there was pure happiness in my families home - not even at Christmas. And the only time I can ever remember my house being quiet was New Years day, 2001 - and that was only because my parents and my brother were all passed out, having drunk themselves into that state at various parties before their friends had dragged them home. The rest of the time, there's always noise of some sort, whether it's from the TV, stereo, people yelling at each other, or any combination of the three.
So, as you can imagine, dreams of home are never happy, always nightmares. I dreamed of my father coming home, and yelling at my mother - typical. I dreamed of my brother - in jail, where I'd visited him so many times before. Other dreams were less coherent, and I could barely remember them, except for the undeniable feeling that they were of HOME and they were NOT HAPPY.
It was with great relief that I woke with the light of the early dawn, to see Edoras on a hill not far distant. Beside me, Eomer rode, looking as if he was going to meet his doom, and I realized that he knew he was going to be imprisoned. As I stirred, Eomer looked over at me.
"Boromir's asleep, isn't he?" I asked, when I realized that the weight of Boromir's torso was resting completely on me, pushing me forward.
"Yes, he fell asleep a short while ago." Eomer replied. "Though he tried his hardest to remain awake until you woke."
"He should have woken me if he needed sleep." I said, and Eomer glanced at me.
"I do not think he could bring himself to wake you." he said quietly.
"Probably," I muttered. There was a short silence, and I was trying to figure out how to drop back from Eomer without getting curious looks, when suddenly Eomer spoke up, calling one of his men to him.
"Lady Erin, this is Irundin. I think it is best that you stay close to him near the rear of our host as we enter Edoras. I left to hunt your Orcs without my Kings permission, and I do not know how I will be greeted," Eomer introduced.
"None too kindly," I said softly. "But you will be forgiven within a day." The two men looked at me oddly, and I just smiled softly. "It is a gift and a curse, and does not always work," I said simply, and the two seemed to accept my explanation. Irundin, for his part, nodded to me, then headed back along the line of riders, and I turned and followed.