Chapter Two - Unexpected Arrivals
Aragorn looked out over the land before him, as he stood upon the Deeping Wall. He knew something was amiss, yet he did not know the source of such sense of danger. Yet, amongst the fear of not knowing, was hope, but again he did not know it's foundation. His eyes scanned the plains calmly and thoroughly, before coming to rest upon the figures of a black horse, and a dark rider, not so far away in the distance. His eyesight, even though not of elven standard, was good enough for him to make out the distinguishable pure white streak that ran down the nose of the horse. It was Araniel, Princess of the Mearas. Aragorn immediately felt a wave of joy pass through him as he realised whom the mysterious rider was.
Isarwien. She was Araniel's master and no other was able to ride her, for she threw them off before they were even mounted. Aragorn let a hint of a smile pass his lips as he watched for a moment longer, before hurrying down to meet the pair as they arrived through the gates of the fortress.
Isarwien rode into Helm's Deep upon Araniel, her large dark hood still covering her face in shadow. A crowd had begun to gather, formed by inquisitive people of Rohan, wondering at the mysterious visitors that had just ridden into their safe haven. They knew not what to make of them; were they friend or foe?
Isarwien gracefully dismounted, the hem of the cloak falling gently about the floor as she landed softly and soundlessly on the stone ground. She stroked Araniel's mane tenderly and muttered a few words in the common language, pleading with her to behave for the guard that had come to take the creature to the stables. As one of the Maeras, Araniel was a noble horse, with extraordinary intelligence and strength and could understand the common tongue of Men. Araniel obeyed her master and, though reluctantly and to her displeasure, was taken to the stables where she found fellow horses, Brego and Arod.
Aragorn made his way through the crowd, watching Isarwien as she looked around the fortress, as though looking for something or someone. He had known the elven maiden all his life, for she was his sister - though foster be it -, best friend and he cared deeply for her. Though through his joy, was a curiosity. Why was she at Helm's Deep, when she should be safe in Rivendell with her father, Lord Elrond?
"Isarwien!" He exclaimed, causing the figure to turn and face him. Though he could not see it, he knew she was smiling and they moved quickly towards one another, meeting in a tight embrace. Isarwien pulled away and removed the hood from her head, revealing her beautiful elven features.
The people of Rohan surrounding the pair gasped in amazement at the sight before them. The majority, whom had never before seen a female elf, marvelled at her beauty, and those that had, compared her with those they had seen. She was like no other. Her fair hair was so light it was almost white and was drawn back into a loose plait with a few loose strands falling about her face. She possessed unblemished and unmarred lightly bronzed skin and had intelligent, clear, sparkling silver eyes that betrayed a proud demeanour. It was these that everyone's attention was drawn to - never before had they seen anyone own such amazing, yet extraordinary eyes. The elven maiden held herself with such grace and elegance that not even her own kin could match and the women of Rohan found themselves yearning to be more like the lady stood before them.
"Aragorn, cormamin lindua ele lle." Isarwien told her best friend, smiling at the man before her, their hands still joined. Aragorn smiled warmly before asking, "Mankoi naa lle sinome?" Isarwien sighed, her eyes giving away that she had come with ill news to Helm's Deep. "Where is the King?" She requested, looking around at the crowd that was still growing. There were men, women and children and soldiers alike, all gathering to watch the pair as they spoke. She did not want them to hear the grave news, which would surely send them into panic and fright. Aragorn looked back at the throne room, before leading the elven maiden through the crowd and to the King who, at that moment, was discussing war with his guards, Legolas and Gimli.
Aragorn looked out over the land before him, as he stood upon the Deeping Wall. He knew something was amiss, yet he did not know the source of such sense of danger. Yet, amongst the fear of not knowing, was hope, but again he did not know it's foundation. His eyes scanned the plains calmly and thoroughly, before coming to rest upon the figures of a black horse, and a dark rider, not so far away in the distance. His eyesight, even though not of elven standard, was good enough for him to make out the distinguishable pure white streak that ran down the nose of the horse. It was Araniel, Princess of the Mearas. Aragorn immediately felt a wave of joy pass through him as he realised whom the mysterious rider was.
Isarwien. She was Araniel's master and no other was able to ride her, for she threw them off before they were even mounted. Aragorn let a hint of a smile pass his lips as he watched for a moment longer, before hurrying down to meet the pair as they arrived through the gates of the fortress.
Isarwien rode into Helm's Deep upon Araniel, her large dark hood still covering her face in shadow. A crowd had begun to gather, formed by inquisitive people of Rohan, wondering at the mysterious visitors that had just ridden into their safe haven. They knew not what to make of them; were they friend or foe?
Isarwien gracefully dismounted, the hem of the cloak falling gently about the floor as she landed softly and soundlessly on the stone ground. She stroked Araniel's mane tenderly and muttered a few words in the common language, pleading with her to behave for the guard that had come to take the creature to the stables. As one of the Maeras, Araniel was a noble horse, with extraordinary intelligence and strength and could understand the common tongue of Men. Araniel obeyed her master and, though reluctantly and to her displeasure, was taken to the stables where she found fellow horses, Brego and Arod.
Aragorn made his way through the crowd, watching Isarwien as she looked around the fortress, as though looking for something or someone. He had known the elven maiden all his life, for she was his sister - though foster be it -, best friend and he cared deeply for her. Though through his joy, was a curiosity. Why was she at Helm's Deep, when she should be safe in Rivendell with her father, Lord Elrond?
"Isarwien!" He exclaimed, causing the figure to turn and face him. Though he could not see it, he knew she was smiling and they moved quickly towards one another, meeting in a tight embrace. Isarwien pulled away and removed the hood from her head, revealing her beautiful elven features.
The people of Rohan surrounding the pair gasped in amazement at the sight before them. The majority, whom had never before seen a female elf, marvelled at her beauty, and those that had, compared her with those they had seen. She was like no other. Her fair hair was so light it was almost white and was drawn back into a loose plait with a few loose strands falling about her face. She possessed unblemished and unmarred lightly bronzed skin and had intelligent, clear, sparkling silver eyes that betrayed a proud demeanour. It was these that everyone's attention was drawn to - never before had they seen anyone own such amazing, yet extraordinary eyes. The elven maiden held herself with such grace and elegance that not even her own kin could match and the women of Rohan found themselves yearning to be more like the lady stood before them.
"Aragorn, cormamin lindua ele lle." Isarwien told her best friend, smiling at the man before her, their hands still joined. Aragorn smiled warmly before asking, "Mankoi naa lle sinome?" Isarwien sighed, her eyes giving away that she had come with ill news to Helm's Deep. "Where is the King?" She requested, looking around at the crowd that was still growing. There were men, women and children and soldiers alike, all gathering to watch the pair as they spoke. She did not want them to hear the grave news, which would surely send them into panic and fright. Aragorn looked back at the throne room, before leading the elven maiden through the crowd and to the King who, at that moment, was discussing war with his guards, Legolas and Gimli.