Chapter Fourteen
I was in the dark of early morning by Legolas. I objected sleeplily to his shaking, but sat up.
"Wake up, Orthalion." he urged, setting down the lantern he was holding, "We are leaving soon."
That woke me up. "Where are we going?"
A look of annoyance flickered on his face as he replied, "To Helm's Deep. Theoden thinks that it will protect his people. 'Tis a trap, I know it." he went on muttering for a moment longer, then jerked, remembering where he was, and finished off with, "Put on your travelling clothes and be packed by sunrise."
I watched him pick up the lantern, and leave. Then I got dressed quickly, trying to lace my shoes by weak candle light. Shoving all of my things that had managed to escape from my bag, I walked out to the great hall, where Aragorn and Theoden were conversing softly, Legolas and Gimli were whispering the problems of Theoden's plan, and Eowyn stared tiredly at the floor.
I sat down discreetly, and examined my sword. I had managed to clean it of all the dried orcblood, but the memory still hung over like an ominous cloud. I felt sadness creeping into my psyche, and willed it back to shadow. Sheathing Celebril with one hand, I withdrew my book, flipping absently through it. After a minute or two, I set it down, stood, and walked to a window.
It was facing west, and I watched the sky grow lighter, and pink and gold clouds glimmer and change until the bright disc made its appearence.
As Theoden directed us to the stables to ready our horses, I realized I didn't have one. Without even asking if there was a horse extra, Mithrandir declared I didn't need a horse, and that I could walk with the villagers.
An indignant fury which hadn't resided in me for some time resurfaced, and my old attitude returned.
"Can I not be trusted with a horse?" I asked as sarcastically sweetly as physically possible. The grey pilgrim frowned, "I cannot ask of Theoden King to spare one of his horses for you."
His emphasis on the 'you' annoyed me so much, I thought before I spoke, "Oh, I am not worthy of a horse. I am not worthy of trust. Am I worthy of this cloak?" I demanded, yanking it off and hurling it to the floor. Mithrandir's eyebrows raised, and I continued, "Do you think I can be trusted with this long sharp object?" I snapped, jerking Celebril out of its sheath, and twirled it around for a second, then lowered it. "So I'll just walk alone, and ignore the pain in my feet from all of my previous walking?" I continued scathingly.
Gandalf barked something like a laugh. "You think you know exhaustion, and anguish, Eleanor?" I bit back a scream of rage. I glanced around, looking at the others' faces. They were all silent, observing us as if we were an interestingly tense TV show. "I fought alongside Boromir at Amon Hen. I killed more than a dozen orcs. I watched," I felt my throat grow thick, but I ignored it, continuing on, "I watched two arrows imbed themselves into Boromir's chest, and then I saw him die. I held his hand. I heard Merry and Pippin's cries as they were carried of by the Uruk Hai. Don't you ever dare tell me I haven't felt pain."
Without another word, I snatched up my cloak, slung my bag on my bag, and speed-walked out of the hall.
I walked down the stone steps outside, and looked up at the flag of Meduseld. The horse on it motionlessly ran in the wind, never going anywhere.
The cold wind stung my eyes, and, now away from the others, my pace became a normal walk. I stared at the ground, feeling tears push their way into my eyes. I kept telling myself that Boromir was in Heaven, or in the West, but it didn't help. I cried. I cried harder than I had when Aragorn had left me. Still, I continued on my path.
The people of the Mark ignored me, and for that I was thankful. They were too busy packing their belongings for the trip to notice me. I reached the gates, and heaved one open. A guard watched me the whole while, until I closed it behind me. By then, I had run out of tears to cry, and just sniffed miserably as I looked into the east.
The sun glared at me, and the wind whipped my hair in my face, stinging the areas where tears had streaked.
I wanted to go home. I didn't want to stay in Middle Earth. It was like nothing I had ever imagined. It was so much more... ...worse.
The suffering, the pain, the death, and the dependence on hope was so real. That fact had never really affected me, but now I understood. This wasn't just a fantasy world of adorable little halflings, hot Elves, and magic staffs. This was a land of problems no human should have to endure, evil things that should never have been concieved, and an absolution that would never come.
I thought of Frodo, and Sam. Of their path that would take them through nightmares and grief. Of Merry and Pippin, who were probably at ease, drinking their Entdraught and learning the wisdom of the trees. Of Faramir, who was most likely now despairing in hope.
I wondered if I could ever know happiness again. So much was lost, and so much more would become so, and I was helpless. My knees buckled, and I knelt in the tall grass, looking hopelessly at the paling morning sky.
"El!" I heard a voice call. Hooves thudded toward me, but I ignored them. I wanted to be forgotten. I wanted to disappear.
A hand rested on my shoulder. "Why did you leave?" he asked. I turned around and faced Legolas, staring him in the eyes, and remained silent.
"Lord Aragorn is undoubtably still arguing with Mithrandir, but he sent me to fetch you." Legolas said as he gripped my hand, and pulled me to my feet. Fetch. Its so nice to know I was being 'fetched.' Now I could add that to my list of verbs I had experienced. Tied up. Accused. Attacked. Shot. Abandoned. And now fetched. Lovely.
Legolas guided me to his horse. He helped me up, while I remained expressionless, and outwardly emotionless.
"I know your pain, Orthalion. I too grieve the death of friends." Legolas said softly, directing the horse into a canter. I watched the ground pass below me. We reached the gates again. Legolas dismounted, opened the gates, but didn't bother to get back on the horse. Instead, he lead Arod and me through the village.
As we reached the stables, he helped me down, tied up Arod, and we walked to Theoden's hall. Silently, Legolas pulled someting out of his sidepack, and gave it to me. It was Galadriel's book. I had left it on the table and forgotten it. I thanked him, holding it close, and looked at its familiarly foreign writing on the cover.
Legolas smiled, and began, "Is it not odd how one can love something, yet forget of its presence in a moment of high emotion?" I nodded, tightening my grip on the book, and followed Legolas back into the hall.
Aragorn had been speaking, but when we entered, he stopped his speech, and said, "Orthalion, don't make me worry about you like that ever again." turning to Legolas, he finished, "Thank you, Legolas." The Elf nodded, and went over to Gimli.
Aragorn approached me, "Mithrandir asks your forgiveness of his rash words." I glanced over at the supposedly apologetic person, who was now talking softly with Theoden.
I looked back at Aragorn, and said, "Could you forgive him of telling you that you don't know pain?" Without another word, I walked back to my previous chair, and sat in it, staring at nothing for a few minutes, until Theoden stood up, catching everyone's attention.
"Let us go now to Helm's Deep. May our journey be peaceful." So saying, he led us outside, looking down upon the villagers. He gave a short speech to them of hope and confidence, and then went to the stabes. I followed at the rear, and watched Eowyn mount her horse, Legolas and Gimli approach Arod, and Theoden go to his horse. Mithrandir leapt lightly on Shadowfax, and waited for the others to finish. As he waited, he said, "I must go find Eomer and his men. When I do so, I shall meet you at Helm's Deep. Expect me at sunrise on the fifth day." Without another word, he urged Shadowfax into a run out of the stables, and disappeared from our sight.
Aragorn passed Hasufel, though, and went to a dark brown horse a few trainers were trying to control. The ranger calmed the horse by whispering Elvish, and asked Eowyn its name and whom it belonged to. She told him Brego, and that it was Theodred's horse.
"Might El ride it?" he inquired, this time looking at Theoden. Theoden bowed his head slowly in affirmation, and I thanked him.
And so we headed northwest to Helm's Deep.
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kittykatt: Don't we all love Pippin's accent? Every time I hear him talk I just fall into this euphoric state.
little-lost-one: Thank you, and sorry it took so long to upload this chapter-I've been quite busy w/ school junk.
I was in the dark of early morning by Legolas. I objected sleeplily to his shaking, but sat up.
"Wake up, Orthalion." he urged, setting down the lantern he was holding, "We are leaving soon."
That woke me up. "Where are we going?"
A look of annoyance flickered on his face as he replied, "To Helm's Deep. Theoden thinks that it will protect his people. 'Tis a trap, I know it." he went on muttering for a moment longer, then jerked, remembering where he was, and finished off with, "Put on your travelling clothes and be packed by sunrise."
I watched him pick up the lantern, and leave. Then I got dressed quickly, trying to lace my shoes by weak candle light. Shoving all of my things that had managed to escape from my bag, I walked out to the great hall, where Aragorn and Theoden were conversing softly, Legolas and Gimli were whispering the problems of Theoden's plan, and Eowyn stared tiredly at the floor.
I sat down discreetly, and examined my sword. I had managed to clean it of all the dried orcblood, but the memory still hung over like an ominous cloud. I felt sadness creeping into my psyche, and willed it back to shadow. Sheathing Celebril with one hand, I withdrew my book, flipping absently through it. After a minute or two, I set it down, stood, and walked to a window.
It was facing west, and I watched the sky grow lighter, and pink and gold clouds glimmer and change until the bright disc made its appearence.
As Theoden directed us to the stables to ready our horses, I realized I didn't have one. Without even asking if there was a horse extra, Mithrandir declared I didn't need a horse, and that I could walk with the villagers.
An indignant fury which hadn't resided in me for some time resurfaced, and my old attitude returned.
"Can I not be trusted with a horse?" I asked as sarcastically sweetly as physically possible. The grey pilgrim frowned, "I cannot ask of Theoden King to spare one of his horses for you."
His emphasis on the 'you' annoyed me so much, I thought before I spoke, "Oh, I am not worthy of a horse. I am not worthy of trust. Am I worthy of this cloak?" I demanded, yanking it off and hurling it to the floor. Mithrandir's eyebrows raised, and I continued, "Do you think I can be trusted with this long sharp object?" I snapped, jerking Celebril out of its sheath, and twirled it around for a second, then lowered it. "So I'll just walk alone, and ignore the pain in my feet from all of my previous walking?" I continued scathingly.
Gandalf barked something like a laugh. "You think you know exhaustion, and anguish, Eleanor?" I bit back a scream of rage. I glanced around, looking at the others' faces. They were all silent, observing us as if we were an interestingly tense TV show. "I fought alongside Boromir at Amon Hen. I killed more than a dozen orcs. I watched," I felt my throat grow thick, but I ignored it, continuing on, "I watched two arrows imbed themselves into Boromir's chest, and then I saw him die. I held his hand. I heard Merry and Pippin's cries as they were carried of by the Uruk Hai. Don't you ever dare tell me I haven't felt pain."
Without another word, I snatched up my cloak, slung my bag on my bag, and speed-walked out of the hall.
I walked down the stone steps outside, and looked up at the flag of Meduseld. The horse on it motionlessly ran in the wind, never going anywhere.
The cold wind stung my eyes, and, now away from the others, my pace became a normal walk. I stared at the ground, feeling tears push their way into my eyes. I kept telling myself that Boromir was in Heaven, or in the West, but it didn't help. I cried. I cried harder than I had when Aragorn had left me. Still, I continued on my path.
The people of the Mark ignored me, and for that I was thankful. They were too busy packing their belongings for the trip to notice me. I reached the gates, and heaved one open. A guard watched me the whole while, until I closed it behind me. By then, I had run out of tears to cry, and just sniffed miserably as I looked into the east.
The sun glared at me, and the wind whipped my hair in my face, stinging the areas where tears had streaked.
I wanted to go home. I didn't want to stay in Middle Earth. It was like nothing I had ever imagined. It was so much more... ...worse.
The suffering, the pain, the death, and the dependence on hope was so real. That fact had never really affected me, but now I understood. This wasn't just a fantasy world of adorable little halflings, hot Elves, and magic staffs. This was a land of problems no human should have to endure, evil things that should never have been concieved, and an absolution that would never come.
I thought of Frodo, and Sam. Of their path that would take them through nightmares and grief. Of Merry and Pippin, who were probably at ease, drinking their Entdraught and learning the wisdom of the trees. Of Faramir, who was most likely now despairing in hope.
I wondered if I could ever know happiness again. So much was lost, and so much more would become so, and I was helpless. My knees buckled, and I knelt in the tall grass, looking hopelessly at the paling morning sky.
"El!" I heard a voice call. Hooves thudded toward me, but I ignored them. I wanted to be forgotten. I wanted to disappear.
A hand rested on my shoulder. "Why did you leave?" he asked. I turned around and faced Legolas, staring him in the eyes, and remained silent.
"Lord Aragorn is undoubtably still arguing with Mithrandir, but he sent me to fetch you." Legolas said as he gripped my hand, and pulled me to my feet. Fetch. Its so nice to know I was being 'fetched.' Now I could add that to my list of verbs I had experienced. Tied up. Accused. Attacked. Shot. Abandoned. And now fetched. Lovely.
Legolas guided me to his horse. He helped me up, while I remained expressionless, and outwardly emotionless.
"I know your pain, Orthalion. I too grieve the death of friends." Legolas said softly, directing the horse into a canter. I watched the ground pass below me. We reached the gates again. Legolas dismounted, opened the gates, but didn't bother to get back on the horse. Instead, he lead Arod and me through the village.
As we reached the stables, he helped me down, tied up Arod, and we walked to Theoden's hall. Silently, Legolas pulled someting out of his sidepack, and gave it to me. It was Galadriel's book. I had left it on the table and forgotten it. I thanked him, holding it close, and looked at its familiarly foreign writing on the cover.
Legolas smiled, and began, "Is it not odd how one can love something, yet forget of its presence in a moment of high emotion?" I nodded, tightening my grip on the book, and followed Legolas back into the hall.
Aragorn had been speaking, but when we entered, he stopped his speech, and said, "Orthalion, don't make me worry about you like that ever again." turning to Legolas, he finished, "Thank you, Legolas." The Elf nodded, and went over to Gimli.
Aragorn approached me, "Mithrandir asks your forgiveness of his rash words." I glanced over at the supposedly apologetic person, who was now talking softly with Theoden.
I looked back at Aragorn, and said, "Could you forgive him of telling you that you don't know pain?" Without another word, I walked back to my previous chair, and sat in it, staring at nothing for a few minutes, until Theoden stood up, catching everyone's attention.
"Let us go now to Helm's Deep. May our journey be peaceful." So saying, he led us outside, looking down upon the villagers. He gave a short speech to them of hope and confidence, and then went to the stabes. I followed at the rear, and watched Eowyn mount her horse, Legolas and Gimli approach Arod, and Theoden go to his horse. Mithrandir leapt lightly on Shadowfax, and waited for the others to finish. As he waited, he said, "I must go find Eomer and his men. When I do so, I shall meet you at Helm's Deep. Expect me at sunrise on the fifth day." Without another word, he urged Shadowfax into a run out of the stables, and disappeared from our sight.
Aragorn passed Hasufel, though, and went to a dark brown horse a few trainers were trying to control. The ranger calmed the horse by whispering Elvish, and asked Eowyn its name and whom it belonged to. She told him Brego, and that it was Theodred's horse.
"Might El ride it?" he inquired, this time looking at Theoden. Theoden bowed his head slowly in affirmation, and I thanked him.
And so we headed northwest to Helm's Deep.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
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kittykatt: Don't we all love Pippin's accent? Every time I hear him talk I just fall into this euphoric state.
little-lost-one: Thank you, and sorry it took so long to upload this chapter-I've been quite busy w/ school junk.