Another chapter
(A.N. Okay. Orian has lately been at Rivendell, but now she has returned with Elrond to see Aragorn and Gimli and Legolas. She still doesn't know Legolas thinks she is dead and still wishes to stay away.)
Two figures rode up the winding way to the encampment of the Rohans. The beacons had been lit, and now the Rohans were coming to Gondor's aid. Or at least trying.
Orian watched from beneath her night-black riding cape as the Rohans looked upon she and Elrond with weariness and an unhid curiosity. They rode silently up the largest tent, which was decorated with elaborate interlace, and Elrond came to a stop.
Dismounting the horse, Elrond gave the horse's reins to Orian, who took them. Without a moment's pause, the Elvish Lord went into the tent of the King of Rohan. Orian was left outside to wait.
Orian wasn't standing there long, however, until a woman with flowing blonde hair and a flowing dress. The woman walked up to where Orian sat in Briano's saddle, her face serious but unafraid. Orian turned to meet her gaze, her face still shadowed in the hood of the cape.
"Who are you?" The woman said, her large blue eyes taking in the moonlight.
Orian paused, but then decided there was no harm in it. Reaching up, she took off her hood.
The blonde woman took a step back, surprised. "You're a she-elf." She breathed.
"Yes." Orian answered. "Who are you?"
"I am Aowyn, niece to the king." Aowyn answered, coming up closer, this time in a more relaxed fashion. "Shield maiden of Rohan." She paused, looking up at Orian. "Who are you?"
"I don't want to say at the moment." Orian answered. "But I will tell you later."
"Why are you here?" Aowen asked. "Are you merely to escort Lord Elrond?"
"No." Orian answered. "I am here to join you in the fight against the Dark Lord. If you will let me."
Aowyn paused. "Do you have some skill as a warrior?" She asked.
"I do." Orian answered, dismounting Briano. "I can ride, and shoot. I am not too talented with the blade, but I can manage."
"Why do you not want to reveal your name?" Aowen asked, looking Orian strait in the eye.
"There is someone here I would rather not let know of my presence here." Orian answered.
Eowyn paused. She put together the pieces. She had been thinking of the she- elf that Aragorn had left in Rivendel, and wondered if this could be who he had told her about. "Are you the woman who Aragorn speaks of?" She asked. "Are you this Arwen of Rivendell?"
Orian shook her head. "No. She is my cousin. I am from Mirkwood. Although much of my younger years were spent in Lothlorien." Silently, she again put her black hood up over her head, concealing her face.
It was then that Aragorn and Elrond came out of the tents, and Orian turned to look as did Eowyn.
"Than I will ride through the mountain pass." Aragorn said gravely to Elrond.
Elrond took the reins of his horse from Orian's hands. The lord mounted his grey horse, turning it to leave. "May the Valar protect you Aragorn." He replied. Then, he turned to Orian, who stood on the ground, peering up at him from underneath her black cloak. "Are you sure you wish to remain?"
Orian nodded. She did not want Aragorn to recognize her voice.
"Very Well." Lord Elrond said. "May the Valar give you strength. I now return to Rivendel."
With that, the Lord of Rivendel turned his stead and left. Aragorn did not remain either, and quickly stalked off. This left Eowyn and Orian alone once more.
"I will take you to my brother, Eomir." Eowyn said, motioning for Orian to follow her. "He will put you somewhere in the riders ranks."
"Many thanks." Orian said, following.
They passed many of the Rohan warriors. Surprisingly to Orian, she recognized many from the battle of Helms Deep. But there were others there that she did not recognize. Those others who glanced up at them from mending armor, or eating, with unhidden curiosity.
Finally, Eowyn took Orian to a large fireside, where several Rohan men sat eating. Many were tough looking, but sat in a quiet peacefulness. There was one though, who looked up as soon as they came near. He had blond hair much like Eowyns, but dark brown eyes that took in everything with suspicion.
"Eomir." Eowyn said, motioning to Orian. "This is an Elf who requests to ride in your forces."
Eomir, as the blond man was now called, stood up. "An Elf heh?" He asked. "Than you are most welcome. Have you some experience?"
"I was at Helms Deep." Orian answered. "I was one of the Lothlorien archers."
Eomir smiled warmly. "Than you are definitely welcome. And you are a rider as well?" He motioned to Briano, the great black stallion which Orian led by the reins.
"Yes." Orian answered.
Eomir nodded. "Very good."
With that, Orian removed her hood. She wasn't wearing armor any more, but leather riding cloths decorated in silver Rivendell designs. It wasn't what Eomir had been expecting.
Eomir took in a sharp breath. He had not seen a being so beautiful in all of his life. He had heard of the beauty of elves, but this took his breath away. Her eyes were green, dark green like the forests, and her lips were full. Her hair was dark brown but only came past her shoulders, and it looked as if it had been cut without much care. It was uneven. "You're a she-elf." Eomir breathed, his eyes wide.
"I am." Orian answered. "Cousin to Arwen and niece to Lady Galadriel."
Eomir nodded slowly.
***LATER***
Dawn came slowly from behind the great mountain. But still there was stirring throughout the camp. Men were packing up, and horses were being saddled and bridled. But what caused the most commotion was that news had spread that Aragorn of Arathorn and his two companions, were going to take the passage through the mountains.
Men lined up as the three riders rode their horses through the camp. Orian watched from behind her velvet black hood. Aragorn, Gimli, and Legolas seemed to be in fine condition as they rode past her reclusive spot beside one of the tents. However, in the way that Legolas's eyes were hard and his cheeks seemed sunken, she had to wonder if he was alright. He looked so.mournful. But still he sat strait and tall on Lazaro, determined. He was fine.
Unlike many of the Rohans, Orian knew what was in the passage through the mountains. The betrayers and murderers would not harm Aragorn, Legolas, or Gimli. She knew their dire need. A curse was a terrible thing to be under, and that was what menaced the dwellers of the mountain.
***Later***
"We ride for the White City." Eomir said as Orian walked with him to the armories. She had been measured for armor the night before and now she was going to pick it up.
"Is this all of Rohan's armies?" Orian asked, looking at the tired men around her.
At that Eomir paused, halting in his tracks. He had inquired his sister Eowyn of the she-elf earlier, but had not gotten many answers. Then all the night before, instead of sleeping, he couldn't help but think about this mystery who had such a beautiful face. "Before I answer you," He said, looking at her in the eyes. "I must know your name. I am no fool."
Orian halted. "Very well." She answered. "I am Lady Orian of the Golden Wood."
At this, Eomir's heart fell. He knew the name. It was the lady Eowyn had told about, who had supposedly died and whose love belonged to the warrior elf of the Fellowship.
"But we received word that you had died." Eomir said, his voice low in his throat.
Orian heard his words, and she suddenly felt very cold. "Dead? Who? How?"
"The company you were journeying to the Undying Lands with." Eomir answered. "They were attacked by orcs. There was a lady with long hair and a fair face. The messengers thought that she was you."
Orian paused. She had not been the only one with ankle-long hair in that procession. "Liannon." She whispered. Her old childhood friend, could she have met her fate in such a way?
Eomir looked at her, noticing a tear streak down the elf's beautiful face. "Who, Lady?" He asked, surprising even himself with how soft his voice was.
Orian took in a deep breath, and wiped away her tears. She blinked, standing tall. "When do we ride?"
Eomir saw that she did not want to talk about it, and left it at that. "We start out within the hour."
Orian nodded. "I know the rest of the way to the armory. I will be there and ready by the time you start to ride."
Eomir nodded. "Very well My Lady." With that, he turned, and began to walk away. But not without stopping to look over his shoulder, and then grimaced. It was just his luck.
Orian continued on to the amoror, her fist chlenched so tightly that her nails dug into her palm. This had to stop! This had to end! Death was coming to the Dark Lord, and all his minions. She swore to it. She swore it with all she held dear.
-To Be Continued!
(A.N. Okay. Orian has lately been at Rivendell, but now she has returned with Elrond to see Aragorn and Gimli and Legolas. She still doesn't know Legolas thinks she is dead and still wishes to stay away.)
Two figures rode up the winding way to the encampment of the Rohans. The beacons had been lit, and now the Rohans were coming to Gondor's aid. Or at least trying.
Orian watched from beneath her night-black riding cape as the Rohans looked upon she and Elrond with weariness and an unhid curiosity. They rode silently up the largest tent, which was decorated with elaborate interlace, and Elrond came to a stop.
Dismounting the horse, Elrond gave the horse's reins to Orian, who took them. Without a moment's pause, the Elvish Lord went into the tent of the King of Rohan. Orian was left outside to wait.
Orian wasn't standing there long, however, until a woman with flowing blonde hair and a flowing dress. The woman walked up to where Orian sat in Briano's saddle, her face serious but unafraid. Orian turned to meet her gaze, her face still shadowed in the hood of the cape.
"Who are you?" The woman said, her large blue eyes taking in the moonlight.
Orian paused, but then decided there was no harm in it. Reaching up, she took off her hood.
The blonde woman took a step back, surprised. "You're a she-elf." She breathed.
"Yes." Orian answered. "Who are you?"
"I am Aowyn, niece to the king." Aowyn answered, coming up closer, this time in a more relaxed fashion. "Shield maiden of Rohan." She paused, looking up at Orian. "Who are you?"
"I don't want to say at the moment." Orian answered. "But I will tell you later."
"Why are you here?" Aowen asked. "Are you merely to escort Lord Elrond?"
"No." Orian answered. "I am here to join you in the fight against the Dark Lord. If you will let me."
Aowyn paused. "Do you have some skill as a warrior?" She asked.
"I do." Orian answered, dismounting Briano. "I can ride, and shoot. I am not too talented with the blade, but I can manage."
"Why do you not want to reveal your name?" Aowen asked, looking Orian strait in the eye.
"There is someone here I would rather not let know of my presence here." Orian answered.
Eowyn paused. She put together the pieces. She had been thinking of the she- elf that Aragorn had left in Rivendel, and wondered if this could be who he had told her about. "Are you the woman who Aragorn speaks of?" She asked. "Are you this Arwen of Rivendell?"
Orian shook her head. "No. She is my cousin. I am from Mirkwood. Although much of my younger years were spent in Lothlorien." Silently, she again put her black hood up over her head, concealing her face.
It was then that Aragorn and Elrond came out of the tents, and Orian turned to look as did Eowyn.
"Than I will ride through the mountain pass." Aragorn said gravely to Elrond.
Elrond took the reins of his horse from Orian's hands. The lord mounted his grey horse, turning it to leave. "May the Valar protect you Aragorn." He replied. Then, he turned to Orian, who stood on the ground, peering up at him from underneath her black cloak. "Are you sure you wish to remain?"
Orian nodded. She did not want Aragorn to recognize her voice.
"Very Well." Lord Elrond said. "May the Valar give you strength. I now return to Rivendel."
With that, the Lord of Rivendel turned his stead and left. Aragorn did not remain either, and quickly stalked off. This left Eowyn and Orian alone once more.
"I will take you to my brother, Eomir." Eowyn said, motioning for Orian to follow her. "He will put you somewhere in the riders ranks."
"Many thanks." Orian said, following.
They passed many of the Rohan warriors. Surprisingly to Orian, she recognized many from the battle of Helms Deep. But there were others there that she did not recognize. Those others who glanced up at them from mending armor, or eating, with unhidden curiosity.
Finally, Eowyn took Orian to a large fireside, where several Rohan men sat eating. Many were tough looking, but sat in a quiet peacefulness. There was one though, who looked up as soon as they came near. He had blond hair much like Eowyns, but dark brown eyes that took in everything with suspicion.
"Eomir." Eowyn said, motioning to Orian. "This is an Elf who requests to ride in your forces."
Eomir, as the blond man was now called, stood up. "An Elf heh?" He asked. "Than you are most welcome. Have you some experience?"
"I was at Helms Deep." Orian answered. "I was one of the Lothlorien archers."
Eomir smiled warmly. "Than you are definitely welcome. And you are a rider as well?" He motioned to Briano, the great black stallion which Orian led by the reins.
"Yes." Orian answered.
Eomir nodded. "Very good."
With that, Orian removed her hood. She wasn't wearing armor any more, but leather riding cloths decorated in silver Rivendell designs. It wasn't what Eomir had been expecting.
Eomir took in a sharp breath. He had not seen a being so beautiful in all of his life. He had heard of the beauty of elves, but this took his breath away. Her eyes were green, dark green like the forests, and her lips were full. Her hair was dark brown but only came past her shoulders, and it looked as if it had been cut without much care. It was uneven. "You're a she-elf." Eomir breathed, his eyes wide.
"I am." Orian answered. "Cousin to Arwen and niece to Lady Galadriel."
Eomir nodded slowly.
***LATER***
Dawn came slowly from behind the great mountain. But still there was stirring throughout the camp. Men were packing up, and horses were being saddled and bridled. But what caused the most commotion was that news had spread that Aragorn of Arathorn and his two companions, were going to take the passage through the mountains.
Men lined up as the three riders rode their horses through the camp. Orian watched from behind her velvet black hood. Aragorn, Gimli, and Legolas seemed to be in fine condition as they rode past her reclusive spot beside one of the tents. However, in the way that Legolas's eyes were hard and his cheeks seemed sunken, she had to wonder if he was alright. He looked so.mournful. But still he sat strait and tall on Lazaro, determined. He was fine.
Unlike many of the Rohans, Orian knew what was in the passage through the mountains. The betrayers and murderers would not harm Aragorn, Legolas, or Gimli. She knew their dire need. A curse was a terrible thing to be under, and that was what menaced the dwellers of the mountain.
***Later***
"We ride for the White City." Eomir said as Orian walked with him to the armories. She had been measured for armor the night before and now she was going to pick it up.
"Is this all of Rohan's armies?" Orian asked, looking at the tired men around her.
At that Eomir paused, halting in his tracks. He had inquired his sister Eowyn of the she-elf earlier, but had not gotten many answers. Then all the night before, instead of sleeping, he couldn't help but think about this mystery who had such a beautiful face. "Before I answer you," He said, looking at her in the eyes. "I must know your name. I am no fool."
Orian halted. "Very well." She answered. "I am Lady Orian of the Golden Wood."
At this, Eomir's heart fell. He knew the name. It was the lady Eowyn had told about, who had supposedly died and whose love belonged to the warrior elf of the Fellowship.
"But we received word that you had died." Eomir said, his voice low in his throat.
Orian heard his words, and she suddenly felt very cold. "Dead? Who? How?"
"The company you were journeying to the Undying Lands with." Eomir answered. "They were attacked by orcs. There was a lady with long hair and a fair face. The messengers thought that she was you."
Orian paused. She had not been the only one with ankle-long hair in that procession. "Liannon." She whispered. Her old childhood friend, could she have met her fate in such a way?
Eomir looked at her, noticing a tear streak down the elf's beautiful face. "Who, Lady?" He asked, surprising even himself with how soft his voice was.
Orian took in a deep breath, and wiped away her tears. She blinked, standing tall. "When do we ride?"
Eomir saw that she did not want to talk about it, and left it at that. "We start out within the hour."
Orian nodded. "I know the rest of the way to the armory. I will be there and ready by the time you start to ride."
Eomir nodded. "Very well My Lady." With that, he turned, and began to walk away. But not without stopping to look over his shoulder, and then grimaced. It was just his luck.
Orian continued on to the amoror, her fist chlenched so tightly that her nails dug into her palm. This had to stop! This had to end! Death was coming to the Dark Lord, and all his minions. She swore to it. She swore it with all she held dear.
-To Be Continued!