Disclaimer:- I do noy own 'the lord of the rings' Tolkein owns the lot, but he did say that I could borrow Aragorn anytime I wanted.
Angel of the Night Watchers:- Well dead armys are not suposed to be taken lightly. I am glad you liked the last chapter.
Coolio02:- Yup an army of corpses, can you imagin the smell. Yuk!
Queen Arwen:- You take the thousand on the left, I'll take the thousand on the right. He isn't just going to be sweaty, but also wet. mmmm
Daisy:- Thank you Daisy, I am glad you like the story.
Emma:- Thank you for your surgestion, I will think about putting it in a little further down the line.
The Converted:- Hey what Karl and William get up to in private is none of our buisness. Practice means to reheares something and practise means to do something, like 'I am a practising christian' or something less biblical. The only reason I know this is because I just looked it up in a thesaurus lol
Ainu Laire:- I have put on my bio that I need a beta testa, I know I am bad at that kind of thing. Glad you like the plot of the story.
The Last Evenstar:- Poor Galadwen, he is such a pretty Elf. Yeah the old lady is a bit scary isn't she, not the sweet old grandmother type is she.
Natters:- Wow, you must have read like everyone of my stories in one go, I got like 7 reviews from you this morning. I hope you took a break every 15 miniutes, I don't want to be blaimed for you getting a headache.
ME132:- People should stop talking to me about sweaty, dirty Aragorn, it makes it very hard to consentrate about anything else. I'm going to steal your title now....no I wont, I'm not that mean. I do see what you do for me, thanks honey. Oh BTW I hate you for having that DVD, I havn't got mine yet. No more bragging about it or I shall stabs out your eyeses!
Thank you chel, Cerridwen-Evereven and sayinjinj7 for your reviews. I hope you enjoy this next chapter.
Chapter 5
Bring it on!
Aragorn was sat at the head of the table, alongside Eomer. The two men were eating, drinking ale and discussing the foal that had been born that morning. Disium, as Eomer had named it, was the son of Eomer's own horse, and sure to be of great strength and speed.
The evening had come swift, the skies filled with darkness. The moon was hiding behind dark clouds, clouds that were sure to bring rain. At the other end of the table sat Arwen, with a deeply set frown upon her face. Aragorn had noticed that his wife had seemed distracted all day but chose to leave her in peace with her thoughts.
In the hall, where they now sat, was a roaring fire in the middle of the room, there were tables filled with red meat and bread, and men of the Rohirrim, recently back from Arnor, were feasting and toasting. In general, the hall were in good spirits, all except Arwen.
"Excuse me." She stood up and walked over to her husband before stooping to kiss his check. "I could use some fresh air."
Aragorn began to stand, to join her, but she put out her hand to stop him. She walked from the hall in silence, the dark cloud veiling her was noticeable to all present.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Once outside, Arwen breathed in deeply the night air. She knew not what was wrong with her, but something was telling her to be on her guard. A cruel darkness seemed to fill the air, she could smell ill doings on the breeze.
Aragorn's hand came to rest on her shoulder. "Do you wish to discus it?"
Arwen closed her eyes and leaned back against him, gently shaking her head. She turned in to his arms and rested her fore head against his. When his hand came up to stroke down her cheek, she placed a soft kiss upon his bristled lips.
The sound of galloping hooves brought them out of each other's embrace. Aragorn and Arwen both turned to see a young man dismount his horse and run up the long steps to the golden hall.
Aragorn walked along the ledge to meet the man as he reached the top step. The man, upon seeing the King of Gondor, stood deathly still. Aragorn noticed that he was a scout, someone who patrolled the boarders of Rohan, he also noticed the fear in the man's eyes, a fear that seemed to burn his soul.
"What is it? What have you seen?"
The man's hands were shaking and his breath was dry from the long, hard ride. "King Eomer." He muttered before opening the doors to the hall.
Aragorn and Arwen soon followed him inside, Arwen clutching her husband's arm tightly.
Eomer stood up, at seeing the man, and walked towards him with a mug of water. The man took it and downed it in one go.
"What is it Drafe? What is the cause of such haste?" Eomer took the mug and handed it to someone behind him. Drafe, his breathing still heavy, looked Eomer in the eye.
"Men are coming, my lord. Must be more then five thousand, they will be here in a matter of hours my lord."
Eomer noticed that Drafe was holding something back from him. He placed his hand upon the young man's shoulder encouraging him to tell him the rest.
Drafe trembled slightly as he closed his eyes, trying to drum up an image of their foes. "They were not men my lord. They were not Orcs. They are some new kind of devilry. They are phantoms of men."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Eomer walked amongst the men in the armoury, which was filled with every male of Rohan, over the age of twelve. He picked up a sword and handed it to the man next to him. Aragorn walked over to one of his men, who had accompanied him on this visit, and handed him a note. "Ride with all speed to Minas Tirith, sound the call that Rohan need aid."
Arwen came up behind him and took the note.
"Arwen why aren't you in the underground apartment? He looked at her worried, for he could see a look of set will in her eyes.
"You may go and gear up." She informed the man as she looked back at her husband. Aragorn waved his hand for the man to do as he was told.
"By the time Gondor's men arrive here it will be too late. We need for them to set out at once if we wish to live out this night. I will get a message to Faramir."
Aragorn frowned at her in confusion before realising what she was going to do. He nodded his head in agreement.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Eldarion placed a leather tunic over his chain mail shirt, he attached his Elven sword to his belt and bound his hand with cloth. When he lifted his head, a new light was in his eyes, a new power and pride.
Aragorn, out of the corner of his eye, noticed his only son. He walked over to him and grabbed his arm, pulling him to the side. "What do you think you are doing?"
Eldarion stood tall. "I am gearing up for battle."
Aragorn instantly started shaking his head. "No you will not fight, you will take these off and go with your mother and sisters underground."
Eldarion simply stood there, finally finding what it was he had been looking for all these years. He had finally found his courage and his strength to except his fate as King.
"I am of age to fight and I have learned from the best. I am also the future King of Gondor, I will not sit by and watch my people fall one by one. You wish to protect me, I understand that, but you can not protect me any more, it is time I learnt to do that for myself."
Aragorn's heart felt fit to burst with pride. He placed his hand on his son's shoulder and pulled him to him. The father and son embraced one another, a new found understanding and respect between them.
"You will make a fine King." Aragorn took of his vambraces, the cuffs he had taken from Boromir as he died, and handed them to his son. "Fight with honour, son of Gondor."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The streets of Minas Tirith were quiet, as most folk had retired for the night. In his bed Faramir tossed and turned in haunted sleep. His eyelashes fluttered and his fists clenched. As though a blade had been thrust in to his stomach, he sat bolt upright, now wide awake. His eyes were wide and his face was white as he looked over at Eowyn, who was sleeping peacefully.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Eomer, along with half his men, rode out to the West of Gondor, whilst Aragorn, with the other half, rode to the East. Though their numbers were few, their courage was unmistakable as they rode with all speed to their desired destinations.
Once on the Eastern boarders of Rohan, Aragorn positioned his troops, his son always by his side. He found a mound of earth to stand upon to address his men. All eyes were on him, some of them remembering when he led them against the foes of men in the war of the ring. Aragorn held up his hand and the thousand or so men went deathly silent.
"This is a time of peace, of freedom. These phantoms think that they can come here and undo all that we have worked for these past years. We have seen harder times then these, we have fought together under harsher conditions then this. Let this now be the day when the hearts of Rohan and Gondor beat as one, when we hold up our swords and proclaim that we are not afraid. We will win this day, we will be victorious, for we have something that they do not. We have the courage of man! They want a war, then we will give them one. Today we fight for the right of mankind, the right to live, today we fight for Rohan and Gondor! We fight for the race of men!"
The men's cheers almost rumbled the very foundations of the earth. Eldarion looked, proudly, at his father, a tear of pride and fear falling from his deep blue eyes. Yes they would win the day, or die trying. Eldarion gripped his sword, closed his eyes and swallowed hard. When he opened his eyes again, they were harder, somehow stronger. He smiled and nodded. "Bring it on!"
Yes! We fight for Rohan and Gondor! Did you like it? Did you hate it? Oh and for those of you that love to visualise Aragorn scruffy and wet....I do intend to make it rain.
Please review and let me know what you fought.
Angel of the Night Watchers:- Well dead armys are not suposed to be taken lightly. I am glad you liked the last chapter.
Coolio02:- Yup an army of corpses, can you imagin the smell. Yuk!
Queen Arwen:- You take the thousand on the left, I'll take the thousand on the right. He isn't just going to be sweaty, but also wet. mmmm
Daisy:- Thank you Daisy, I am glad you like the story.
Emma:- Thank you for your surgestion, I will think about putting it in a little further down the line.
The Converted:- Hey what Karl and William get up to in private is none of our buisness. Practice means to reheares something and practise means to do something, like 'I am a practising christian' or something less biblical. The only reason I know this is because I just looked it up in a thesaurus lol
Ainu Laire:- I have put on my bio that I need a beta testa, I know I am bad at that kind of thing. Glad you like the plot of the story.
The Last Evenstar:- Poor Galadwen, he is such a pretty Elf. Yeah the old lady is a bit scary isn't she, not the sweet old grandmother type is she.
Natters:- Wow, you must have read like everyone of my stories in one go, I got like 7 reviews from you this morning. I hope you took a break every 15 miniutes, I don't want to be blaimed for you getting a headache.
ME132:- People should stop talking to me about sweaty, dirty Aragorn, it makes it very hard to consentrate about anything else. I'm going to steal your title now....no I wont, I'm not that mean. I do see what you do for me, thanks honey. Oh BTW I hate you for having that DVD, I havn't got mine yet. No more bragging about it or I shall stabs out your eyeses!
Thank you chel, Cerridwen-Evereven and sayinjinj7 for your reviews. I hope you enjoy this next chapter.
Chapter 5
Bring it on!
Aragorn was sat at the head of the table, alongside Eomer. The two men were eating, drinking ale and discussing the foal that had been born that morning. Disium, as Eomer had named it, was the son of Eomer's own horse, and sure to be of great strength and speed.
The evening had come swift, the skies filled with darkness. The moon was hiding behind dark clouds, clouds that were sure to bring rain. At the other end of the table sat Arwen, with a deeply set frown upon her face. Aragorn had noticed that his wife had seemed distracted all day but chose to leave her in peace with her thoughts.
In the hall, where they now sat, was a roaring fire in the middle of the room, there were tables filled with red meat and bread, and men of the Rohirrim, recently back from Arnor, were feasting and toasting. In general, the hall were in good spirits, all except Arwen.
"Excuse me." She stood up and walked over to her husband before stooping to kiss his check. "I could use some fresh air."
Aragorn began to stand, to join her, but she put out her hand to stop him. She walked from the hall in silence, the dark cloud veiling her was noticeable to all present.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Once outside, Arwen breathed in deeply the night air. She knew not what was wrong with her, but something was telling her to be on her guard. A cruel darkness seemed to fill the air, she could smell ill doings on the breeze.
Aragorn's hand came to rest on her shoulder. "Do you wish to discus it?"
Arwen closed her eyes and leaned back against him, gently shaking her head. She turned in to his arms and rested her fore head against his. When his hand came up to stroke down her cheek, she placed a soft kiss upon his bristled lips.
The sound of galloping hooves brought them out of each other's embrace. Aragorn and Arwen both turned to see a young man dismount his horse and run up the long steps to the golden hall.
Aragorn walked along the ledge to meet the man as he reached the top step. The man, upon seeing the King of Gondor, stood deathly still. Aragorn noticed that he was a scout, someone who patrolled the boarders of Rohan, he also noticed the fear in the man's eyes, a fear that seemed to burn his soul.
"What is it? What have you seen?"
The man's hands were shaking and his breath was dry from the long, hard ride. "King Eomer." He muttered before opening the doors to the hall.
Aragorn and Arwen soon followed him inside, Arwen clutching her husband's arm tightly.
Eomer stood up, at seeing the man, and walked towards him with a mug of water. The man took it and downed it in one go.
"What is it Drafe? What is the cause of such haste?" Eomer took the mug and handed it to someone behind him. Drafe, his breathing still heavy, looked Eomer in the eye.
"Men are coming, my lord. Must be more then five thousand, they will be here in a matter of hours my lord."
Eomer noticed that Drafe was holding something back from him. He placed his hand upon the young man's shoulder encouraging him to tell him the rest.
Drafe trembled slightly as he closed his eyes, trying to drum up an image of their foes. "They were not men my lord. They were not Orcs. They are some new kind of devilry. They are phantoms of men."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Eomer walked amongst the men in the armoury, which was filled with every male of Rohan, over the age of twelve. He picked up a sword and handed it to the man next to him. Aragorn walked over to one of his men, who had accompanied him on this visit, and handed him a note. "Ride with all speed to Minas Tirith, sound the call that Rohan need aid."
Arwen came up behind him and took the note.
"Arwen why aren't you in the underground apartment? He looked at her worried, for he could see a look of set will in her eyes.
"You may go and gear up." She informed the man as she looked back at her husband. Aragorn waved his hand for the man to do as he was told.
"By the time Gondor's men arrive here it will be too late. We need for them to set out at once if we wish to live out this night. I will get a message to Faramir."
Aragorn frowned at her in confusion before realising what she was going to do. He nodded his head in agreement.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Eldarion placed a leather tunic over his chain mail shirt, he attached his Elven sword to his belt and bound his hand with cloth. When he lifted his head, a new light was in his eyes, a new power and pride.
Aragorn, out of the corner of his eye, noticed his only son. He walked over to him and grabbed his arm, pulling him to the side. "What do you think you are doing?"
Eldarion stood tall. "I am gearing up for battle."
Aragorn instantly started shaking his head. "No you will not fight, you will take these off and go with your mother and sisters underground."
Eldarion simply stood there, finally finding what it was he had been looking for all these years. He had finally found his courage and his strength to except his fate as King.
"I am of age to fight and I have learned from the best. I am also the future King of Gondor, I will not sit by and watch my people fall one by one. You wish to protect me, I understand that, but you can not protect me any more, it is time I learnt to do that for myself."
Aragorn's heart felt fit to burst with pride. He placed his hand on his son's shoulder and pulled him to him. The father and son embraced one another, a new found understanding and respect between them.
"You will make a fine King." Aragorn took of his vambraces, the cuffs he had taken from Boromir as he died, and handed them to his son. "Fight with honour, son of Gondor."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The streets of Minas Tirith were quiet, as most folk had retired for the night. In his bed Faramir tossed and turned in haunted sleep. His eyelashes fluttered and his fists clenched. As though a blade had been thrust in to his stomach, he sat bolt upright, now wide awake. His eyes were wide and his face was white as he looked over at Eowyn, who was sleeping peacefully.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Eomer, along with half his men, rode out to the West of Gondor, whilst Aragorn, with the other half, rode to the East. Though their numbers were few, their courage was unmistakable as they rode with all speed to their desired destinations.
Once on the Eastern boarders of Rohan, Aragorn positioned his troops, his son always by his side. He found a mound of earth to stand upon to address his men. All eyes were on him, some of them remembering when he led them against the foes of men in the war of the ring. Aragorn held up his hand and the thousand or so men went deathly silent.
"This is a time of peace, of freedom. These phantoms think that they can come here and undo all that we have worked for these past years. We have seen harder times then these, we have fought together under harsher conditions then this. Let this now be the day when the hearts of Rohan and Gondor beat as one, when we hold up our swords and proclaim that we are not afraid. We will win this day, we will be victorious, for we have something that they do not. We have the courage of man! They want a war, then we will give them one. Today we fight for the right of mankind, the right to live, today we fight for Rohan and Gondor! We fight for the race of men!"
The men's cheers almost rumbled the very foundations of the earth. Eldarion looked, proudly, at his father, a tear of pride and fear falling from his deep blue eyes. Yes they would win the day, or die trying. Eldarion gripped his sword, closed his eyes and swallowed hard. When he opened his eyes again, they were harder, somehow stronger. He smiled and nodded. "Bring it on!"
Yes! We fight for Rohan and Gondor! Did you like it? Did you hate it? Oh and for those of you that love to visualise Aragorn scruffy and wet....I do intend to make it rain.
Please review and let me know what you fought.