March 10, 3019

The sun did not rise today, or perhaps it did and under this shadow we could not see it.  The shadow has come from Mordor and hides all light.  The air itself is brown, there are no colors, and nothing has a shadow of its own.  The shadow began to set upon us at sunset yesterday.  I fear it will last until both Mordor and Isengard are defeated, if they are defeated.

Some are saying there is no hope for us.  They are saying our numbers are too few to stand against Mordor and Isengard.  As much as I would like to ignore these words, I must admit I see the truth in them.  Our hundreds are nothing to the tens of thousands of Mordor and Isengard.  Gondor has suffered many more raids and assaults then we have, and its armies are tired and weakening.

Another meeting was held in my uncle's tent.  For a while we all sat silent.  Then my uncle spoke, "So we come to it in the end," he said, "The great battle of our time, in which many things shall pass away.  But at least there is no longer need for hiding.  We will ride the straight way and the open road with all our speed.  The muster shall begin at once, and wait for none that tarry.  Have you good store in Minas Tirith?  For if we ride now in all haste, the we must ride light, with but mail and water enough to last us into battle."

"We have very great store long prepared," answered Hirgon.  "Ride now as light and swift as you may!"

"Then call the heralds, Eomer," my uncle said, "Let the Riders be marshalled!"

My brother left, and soon we heard the trumpet ring, and the trumpets of the camps below answered.

My uncle the addressed the halfling, "I am going to war, Master Meriadoc," he said, "In a little while I shall take the road.  I release you from my service, but not from my friendship.  You shall abide here, and if you wish, you shall serve the Lady Eowyn, who will govern the folk in the stead."

The halfling was not pleased with these words.  "But, but, lord," he replied with a shaking voice, "I offered you my sword.  I do not want to be parted from you like this, Theoden King.  And as all my friends have gone to battle, I should be ashamed to stay behind."

"But we ride horses tall and swift," my uncle said, "and great though you heart be, you cannot ride on such beasts."

"Then tie me on the back of one, or let me hang on a stirrup, or something," his voice grew eager, and I began to see myself in him.  "It is a long way to run; but run I shall, if I cannot ride, even it I wear my feet off and arrive weeks too late."

My uncle smiled, "Rather than that I would bear you with me on Snowmane.  But at least you shall ride with me to Edoras and look on Meduseld; for that way I shall go.  So far Stybba can bear you: the great race will not begin till we reach the plains."

I could take it no longer.  He should be allowed to ride!  His heart is in the right place, though his height my not be much.  His heart is what counts.  If he is willing to ride and face danger and peril, let him.  He is brave and his abilities should not be determined by his height, just as one's abilities should not be determined by their gender.  Our numbers are few enough, we should be taking all those willing to ride, despite age, height, or gender.

I stood up.  "Come now Meriadoc!" I said, "I will show you the gear that I have prepared for you.  This request only did Aragorn make to me, that you should be armed for battle.  I have granted it as I could.  For my heart tells me you will need such gear in the end."

We left the tent and I led him to a booth among the tents of the guards.  I had the armorer bring out a helm, shield, and other items.

"No mail have we to fit you," I told him, "Nor any time for the forging of such a hauberk; but here is also a stout jerkin of leather, a blade, and a knife.  A sword you have." 

I handed him each item as I said the word, then presented him the small shield.  "Take all these things, and bear them to good fortune!  Farewell now, Master Meriadoc!  Yet maybe we will meet again, you and I."

He turned and left.

After my uncle bid me farewell, I went to my tent.  There I changed into the clothing and armor of a Rider, disguising all features one might recognize me by.  I saddled by horse, Wondfola, and seated myself on here.  I rode to join the Riders, praying I would not be recognized.  I saw Meriadoc, and for a few moments we looked one another in the eye.  I saw bravery and sadness in his eyes.  I had to do something.

It was early afternoon when preparations were finished, farewells all said, and we were ready to leave.  I saw Meriadoc once again trying to convince my uncle to let him ride.  My uncle would not allow it.  The halfling passed me as he unwillingly left, and I overheard him saying "Where will wants not, a way opens: so we say, and so I have found myself."

I bent down as close to him as I could from my steed and said quietly, "You wish to go whither the Lord of the Mark goes: I see it in your face."

"I do," he replied.

"Then you shall go with me," I said, "I will bear you before my, under my cloak until we are far afield, and this darkness is yet darker.  Such good will should not be denied.  Say no more to any man, but come!"

I reached down and lifted him into the saddle.  "Thank you indeed!" he said.  "Thank you, sir, though I do not know your name."

I smiled, for if he did not recognize me, I doubted anyone would.  "Do you not?" I replied, "Then call me Dernhelm."

And with that, the ride to Gondor began.

We are now camped twelve leagues East of Edoras.  I plan not to write until after the battle is over, if I am yet alive.  My writing greatens the chance of me being discovered.  If I am still alive, I will return to write more.  I will write of the battle, of the wins and losses. I will write of the journeys.  I will write of myself, of my pains and joys.  If fate wished it and I am to survive, I will write again.

Eowyn

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No, this is not the end of the story!  And all the dialogue belongs to Tolkien, as with the last chapter.

Anyway…Please Review!

~*~flor~*~