Chapter Two
Herendil watched and listened as Gandalf called the horses to him. With a longing look back, Herendil gazed back into the cool depths of Fangorn Forest, not favoring the idea of leaving.
"Herendil?" Aragorn asked, startling the pensive elf.
"Yes, Lord Aragorn?" Herendil replied, wondering what the man had to say.
"It's time to go." Aragorn said, ignoring the added 'lord' to his name, for the moment, anyway. Herendil reluctantly nodded and mounted. Within moments, they were galloping across the rolling plains towards Edoras, the capital of Rohan. Legolas watched as emotions he had only seen in Frodo, came to light on Herendil's face.
"He has no idea what is in store for him. He has awakened from two thousand years of death just to enter into a time where hope is dwindling, and the Shadow is everywhere. I can only hope, for his sake, that when this is over, he will be able to find his family." Legolas thought, drawing rein when Gandalf silently motioned for them to. Herendil looked up and around as the sights and sounds of Rohan came to his ears; the distant thundering of hooves upon the earth, the sound of armor and weapons clanking as riders rode on their loyal mounts. But what chilled the resurrected elf was the fact that barely a whisper of sound came from within the capital itself.
"Like a mountain pass before an avalanche." Herendil murmured, surprised when he got a collective groan from his four companions.
"Don't even mention avalanches, laddie!" Gimli hissed, getting a look of confusion from Herendil.
"I don't understand, but I won't mention them anymore." Herendil promised, smiling somewhat at the reprieve they'd been given from the more pressing situation at hand. They then carefully approached the Golden Hall, following Gandalf to the gates (of course, by now, Gandalf was covering his white robes with the tattered remains of his old cloak). There they were met by men in armor, who, when they laid eyes on them, quickly stood and barred their way.
"Stay strangers here unknown!" the men said, as they directed looks of wonder and ill-humor at them.
"Well do I understand your speech, yet few strangers do. Why do you not speak the Common Tongue, if you wish to be answered?" Gandalf asked, as Herendil gave the men a cautious look, not wishing to become a dead elf again.
"I don't think the Valar would bring me back to life a second time." Herendil thought, grimly, and listened as the men of Rohan gave their answer to Gandalf. He listened as they demanded an explanation as to how and why they came to have the horses, especially Shadowfax and who had delivered the decree that none save Rohan's own should enter into Edoras.
"Wormtongue? Say no more! My errand is not to Wormtongue, but to the Lord of the Mark himself. I am in haste. Will you not go or send to say that we are come?" Gandalf asked, giving the guard a look that was as sharp as the stave Herendil carried.
"Yes, I will go. But what names shall I report? What shall I say of you? You seem old and weary, but you seem to hide great power." the guard asked, in turn, as he looked at Gandalf closely, then glanced at Herendil, Legolas, Gimli, and Aragorn.
"You see as well as you speak, for I am Gandalf. And here beside me is Aragorn, son of Arathorn, the heir of kings. Here also are Legolas and Gimli, our comrades. Last but not least, is the elf who would see what no other elf of his time would see, Herendil, son of Namorimbo, of the late army of the Elven king, Gil-galad. Go now and tell your master that we are at the gates and would have speech with him, if he will allow us to enter his hall." Gandalf said, not noticing the blanched face of the guard before him, nor the thoroughly embarrassed look of Herendil behind him.
"Strange names you give, indeed! But I will report them as you bid, and see what my master says. Wait here for a moment, and I will bring you the answer he gives." The guard said, then added, "Do not hope too much, for these are dark days."
"Gandalf, did you really have to say all that about me? Now these men probably think the same thing the hobbits thought when they first learned who I was!" Herendil said, with some apprehension appearing on his face.
"He wanted to know who each of us were, and I gave him your name as well." Gandalf replied, with a matter-of-fact tone in his voice.
"Still, you didn't have to say that I had come from the army of King Gil-galad." Herendil muttered, feeling a little betrayed and put off by having his identity revealed so easily.
"Herendil, it is fairly easy to tell what army you were originally from, since your armor is not what elves wear today." Aragorn said, chuckling at the somewhat chagrined look on Herendil's face.
"Be that as it may, Lord Aragorn, I still do not like having my name so freely spoken, especially since I am supposed to be dead, at any rate." Herendil said, sharply.
"Yet you are here, laddie. You can't argue with that fact." Gimli as he eyed the men at the gate, who were trying to appear as though they weren't listening to the conversation. After a few moments, the guard returned and had them follow him in.
"Theoden gives you leave to enter, but he bids you to leave any weapon, even if it be only a staff, at the door. The doorwardens will watch them." The guard said, as the gates were swung open, and they rode in. As they followed the guard, Herendil looked over his weapons with some dismay in his eyes.
"Here I am, armed to the teeth, and they expect me to leave all of it at the door? I might as well strip myself of my chain mail and metal bucklers as well!" Herendil muttered, moodily, ears drooping at the thought.
"You won't have to go that far, Master Herendil. Just leave the stave, bow, arrows, and sword at the door." The guard said, hoping he could calm the elf's slowly rising temper.
"These weapons are all the earthly possessions I have at the moment. Will I be getting them back?" Herendil asked, disparagingly.
"I'm sure you will. It's so strange………actually talking to someone who, only yesterday, was just another legend. Just another story that was told around the hearth." The guard said, reverently.
"I find it strange that there are any stories at all about me. I certainly didn't see any of this coming!" Herendil admitted. Finally, they came at length to the doors of Meduseld, the Golden Hall.
"There are the doors before you. I must return to my post. Farewell, and may the Lord of the Mark be gracious to you!" the guard said, as he reluctantly returned to his post, giving Herendil a parting glance as he did so.
"Hail, comers from afar!" the watchmen of the Hall said, in greeting, as one of their number stepped forward. At this, Gandalf gave the signal to dismount.
"I am the Doorward of Theoden, and my name is Hama. Here I must bid you to lay aside your weapons before you enter." The watchman said, with some authority in his voice. With much reluctance on their part, Legolas, Aragorn, Gimli, and Gandalf lay their weapons at the door. At last attention was turned to Herendil.
"Now you." Hama said, looking somewhat amused at the embarrassed look he got from Herendil.
"I do apologize." Herendil said, as he handed his stave, sword, bow and arrows to Hama, and watched as Hama staggered back in surprise.
"How could you carry all of this and not be burdened by it all?!" Hama asked, when he'd carefully laid the weapons beside all of the rest at the door.
"Good training, I suppose." Herendil replied, with a shrug, giving his companions an unreadable look when they chuckled at his expense. Then Hama turned back to Gandalf.
"Your staff." Hama said. This got a false look of hurt from Gandalf.
"Oh, surely you will not deprive an old man of his walking stick?" Gandalf asked, his eyes twinkling as Herendil smirked at that. Reluctantly, Hama agreed to let them go in, and Gandalf got to keep his staff with him. The moment they entered the Golden Hall, Herendil shuddered.
"This place has such an oppressive air! I have not felt the like since I first entered the lands to the east." Herendil murmured, subdued by the weight of despair in the fabled hall. Legolas was inclined to agree with Herendil, since he too could feel the shadows closing in.
"Hail Theoden, son of Thengel! I have returned, but the hospitality of your hall seems to have waned of late." Gandalf said, as they approached the figure that sat upon a golden chair at the end of the hall. Herendil's eyes narrowed as he watched a pale, corpse-like man lean forward and whisper something into Theoden's ear.
"Why should I welcome you, Gandalf Stormcrow?" Theoden replied, in a dry, hollow voice.
"You speak justly, lord." The pale man said, earning himself a cold look from Herendil. Legolas and Gimli exchanged a glance, then looked back at Herendil. They had never seen him look so coldly at another, but, then again, they had only known him for a few hours, at best. They listened as words were exchanged between Gandalf and the pale man known as Wormtongue.
"The wise speak only what they know. I did not come here to exchange insults with the likes of you! Therefore, be silent and keep your forked tongue behind your teeth! I have not come through fire and death to bandy crooked words with a serving man till lightning falls." Gandalf said, with cold anger in his voice.
"Nor did I emerge from death's slumber to listen to you bring down those of higher esteem than you." Herendil added, his eyes burning with barely contained anger, clenching and unclenching his hands as he stood there alongside Gandalf. The other three (namely Aragorn, Legolas and Gimli) could only watch as Gandalf straightened, and started walking towards the throne. The men who stood guard within the hall then attacked them. With relative ease, Herendil turned and lightly cuffed one soldier over the head who had gotten too close for his own good, then stood at Legolas and Gimli's side and to Aragorn's left as they took on more men. Still Gandalf approached the chair where Theoden sat, his stride filled with purpose.
"I free you, Theoden, son of Thengel, from this darkness!" Gandalf said, receiving only a cruel chuckle in response.
"You have no power, Gandalf the Grey!" Theoden cackled, mockingly. Then, before he could say anything more, Gandalf cast aside the tattered grey cloak, and revealed the pure white robes that lay underneath. Then he thrust his staff into Theoden's face, and Theoden flinched as though he'd been hit.
"Did I not council you, lord, to forbid his staff? That fool Hama has betrayed us!" Wormtongue shouted, before a brilliant flash of light silenced him. For the moment, anyway.
"Leave him, Saruman!" Gandalf demanded, eyes flashing as he figured out just what was going on.
"If I leave him, Gandalf, then Theoden will die." Saruman's voice said, through Theoden. Gandalf's expression darkened.
"Don't you dare hurt him, Saruman! Leave him and do no more harm!" Gandalf said, darkly, as he thrust his staff towards Theoden again, forcing a powerful amount of magic into the Lord of the Mark. Herendil, his companions, and the men of Rohan, watched as the shadows in the hall and the eerie light in Theoden's eyes disappeared, like so many bad dreams. Out of those shadows, unnoticed until then, a woman rushed over to the throne and looked into the eyes of the king.
"I know this face………….Eowyn?" Theoden asked, his voice once again issuing forth from his lips. Herendil smiled in relief, glad that the oppressive shadow was gone from the Golden Hall.
"Dark have my dreams been of late." Theoden murmured, as Gandalf helped him to his feet. Out of ancient habit, Herendil got to the king's left hand side, and, together, elf and wizard knocked on the huge door and cried, "Open, the Lord of the Mark comes forth!" From where he stood, Legolas watched as Herendil changed from uncertain elf to confident warrior all in a moment in time.
"This was what Herendil needed in order to adjust to this time. A moment of despair changed into a moment of hope." Legolas thought, shaking himself from his thoughts when orders were given, and Eowyn brushed past him, obeying the command she'd been handed from Gandalf. Herendil watched as the weight of years literally lifted themselves from the bent shoulders of Theoden.
"Gandalf, who is this? His armor is ancient, as he no doubt is. But it doesn't belong in this time of sorrow." Theoden said, taking notice of Herendil for the first time.
"Milord, my name is Herendil." Herendil said, gently, hoping he wouldn't scare the fragile looking man to death. Theoden gazed at him in wonder and disbelief.
"Had you been dressed any other way, I would have said that you were lying; but you are dressed as the old stories say. How could this be? How is it that you are standing here, of all places, and of all times?" Theoden asked, as he grasped Herendil's arm as though to reassure himself that the elf in front of him was real.
"I know not, Milord. It was the will of the Valar that sent me back, I suppose. I cannot begin to understand their minds." Herendil said, his voice soft and solemn. Theoden looked a moment more into Herendil's sky blue eyes, then looked away, his own gaze filling with sorrow.
"Would that the same thing could have happened to my son. Alas, that these evil days are mine, and should come in my old age instead of the peace I have earned. No parent should ever have to bury his child." Theoden said, as bitter tears gathered in his eyes, but he refused to let them fall, wringing his hands in helpless frustration as he did so.
"Your fingers will better remember their strength if they grasped a sword hilt." Gandalf advised, ever mindful of the old king's grief. Theoden looked up and nodded, then felt his side for his sword. But no sword hung there.
"Where has Grima put it?" Theoden asked, as a little frustration entered his voice.
"Take this, dear lord! It has ever been at your service!" Eomer said, as he strode forward and offered the hilt of his sword to the Lord of the Mark. Sensing that he wasn't needed at the moment, Herendil walked a little ways, then stood and watched, his eyes becoming distant as he remembered ancient memories of King Gil-galad, and the way those under him had looked with respect at him.
"Those days are gone, and they are never coming back. I had lost much in the Battle of Barad-Dur, including my own life. Yet I have gained as well. I have new comrades, and a new chance to fight against the evil that had taken me from the life I had known. I will do what I can to make the best of my second chance." Herendil thought, as he watched the Lord of the Mark regain his strength, allowing a moment of grim pleasure when Wormtongue was brought before the restored King Theoden.
Author's Note!
Westu Theoden hal! As a lot of you can already tell, most of the dialogue came from the book, The Two Towers. I have tried to keep from copying all of it word for word, and some of the dialogue is from the movie. Hope this chapter was all right!
Gemini
