Disclaimer: See chapter 1
A/N: Sorry this took so long. As always, if I goofed anything, let me know.
Theodred opened his eyes again to find himself standing on top of a hill overlooking the land below him. It stretched out for miles and miles, waving gold dotted here and there with brown villages. "It feels like Rohan," he said to himself.
"But it's not, newcomer," said a voice beside him. He turned to see who was speaking. It was a man who looked only a little older than himself. But the man's eyes . . .they looked as though the wisdom of the ancients might be contained in them.
"This is not Rohan? But it looks like it did the day we rode out." Theodred stopped for a moment, remembering all that had happened. "Is this, then, the Land of the Dead?"
"I suppose that's what it might be called where you've come from. But look at yourself. You were wounded in that place, yes?"
"I was. I remember that much."
"But you are not wounded here." Theodred felt where his wounds should be, then replied.
"You're right. I'm not."
"Then, perhaps, a more fitting name would be the Land of New Life, rather than the Land of the Dead."
"You may be right, but who are you? Did you . . .come from Rohan?"
"No," answered the man. "I did not come from Rohan. I have always been here. I rule this place, and guide the people who come here to their final homes, unless they are unable to make the journey. Some, who were not so strong of deed in life, haven't the will or the ability to go to the great halls. But you, Theodred son of Theoden, were brave and strong where you came from, so I was sent to guide you to the halls of your fathers."
"The halls of my fathers? The ones buried underneath the mounds outside the city?"
"Yes, those men. All of them, kings of Rohan, made their ways to the Great Hall. I shall take you there, now, to join them, if you wish."
"If the kings who came before me are there, then I will go. But how is this journey to be made? I have no horse, and it is the only way I know to travel."
"No horse?" asked the man. "Well, that can be taken care of. Come with me." The man led him to a huddle of buildings. Some were built of grey stone, similar to his home at Edoras. Others were made of wood, with thatched roofs. In the middle of the cluster there stood a large stable. Its wood looked fresh, as though the building were newly built, but somehow, it felt as though it had been there forever. "In this place," said his guide, "I think you will find a mount worthy of the king you would have become."
Inside, the building smelled of hay and horse and oats—all familiar smells. The stable felt like the one at home, only warmer and happier. "The white one, at the far end," he heard the man say. He made his way past great horses, each one stronger and more beautiful than the last. They were each of different colors and breeds, all meant for different purposes. When he finally reached the end, a beautiful white horse waited for him.
"He is marvelous indeed," said Theodred to himself, as he moved his hand over the horse from neck to rump, feeling the animal's muscle. "I will be honored to ride him." Slowly, he led the horse to where the man waited outside. "What is his name?" he asked.
"Who does he remind you of?" asked the man.
"He makes me think of Shadowfax, one of the Mearas. The king of horses."
"This is the first of the Mearas."
"Shadowfax's ancestor? Felaróf? But he died long ago, before Rohan came to be."
"And you died as well. Ride him now, and see what you think." Theodred mounted Felaróf and rode back and forth through the village. He could hardly contain his excitement.
"He is truly, the King of horses! Men would have paid a fortune for him in my lands. I am honored to have such a mount!"
"Then let us begin our journey. The way is long, and you will see much before you arrive."
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As they rode through the New Rohan, Theodred questioned his guide. "Do all who die bravely go to the Great Halls? And what of those who do not?"
"There are many lands here."
"Lands like Gondor and Rohan?"
"Yes. This land is divided in much the same way as the world of the living." Theodred pondered this, then moved to other matters.
"Have any of my fathers before me refused to go to the Great Halls?"
"Only one is not at the Great Halls. He chose to live with the elves of this place."
"There is a land of elves here? Then they are real?"
"Yes, they are real. You will learn of many things here that you knew of only as riddles and legends in your world."
"But what of the tales that they live forever? That was also a legend in 'my' world."
"They do live forever, but some elves die in battle, others of a broken heart. These are few, but those that do come to live here. They go to the Halls of Mandos, far west of these lands."
"What happens to Orcs and Goblins and such evil things that die? Are they allowed to come here to this good place?"
"Evil does not come here. It is all contained far away, across a deep gorge no one can pass over. Evil is forever bound behind great walls, where it cannot touch this land."
"What of those that are unwillingly pressed into service for evil?" Theodred continued.
"They are taken to a judge who looks at their case and decides which land they are to enter. Most cases are decided before a person enters, as happened with you."
"What if someone came here and then did something evil? Would they be exiled?"
"Evil is not possible in this land, but we should not speak of such things when we are far away from them. Enjoy the peace of this place and do not think of what may lie beyond. It has no place here."
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