Thank you all reviewers :)) I really enjoyed your comments :)
to collegetwin: well here he is Boromir in Rohan ;) Tell me if you liked it!
Lady of Legolas & Princess of Mirkwood : is there going to be a ? I think I know what you mean, and it was intended as one, but the there was this stupid removal of nc- 17 and I decided not to. But if you keep asking me ;)) I may actualy rewrite it to be one, but then I'll probably post it somewhere I can go all the way :))
skahducky: thanks! really appreciate it .
Elf Wench : this soonish enough? :))
Kelly: naaah, Faramir is just going to have to suffer a little more, the poor guy. But it'll be one hell of a reunion :))
Ruth: I trie to make my chapters nice and longue, but you got to stop somewhere right? :)) Thanks for reading!
So I still don't own any of them, and here's chapters 5:
Trouble in Rohan
*****************
It took the five travelers two days more, but then they stood above their intended target. Some miles of still, the Golden Hall of the Rohirrim stood, shining in the early sunlight. Boromir couldn't see movement as of yet, but he did not doubt that Meduseld was well garded, even though it did not appear thus from where they waited.
"Tell me, Legolas, what you can see down there." Gandalf asked. The Elf obeyed, shadowing his eyes with a hand. "I see a wilver river, running past a great building wich appears to have a golden roof." he said. "It seems that all are still asleep within the walls." "That is Edoras." Gandalf said, "Home to King Théoden. We must be cautious: I do not think that everybody is still asleep, although I would seem like that from afar." With a look at all of them, he added "It would also be wise to not speak haughty words before we have reached Théoden's throne."
Boromir exchanged a look with Aragorn, silently agreeing that they could be humble, if only for a while. They rode further, past the great mounds that were standing in honour to the fallen Kings of earlier times. At cthe gates, they saw that there were indeed guards, even at this early hour. When they saw them, they lifted their spears and blocked the road into the city.
"Halt, strangers!" they called out in a language that Boromirwas familiar with. It was the Rohirrim's own speach, one that few outside their kingdom understood. Boromir glanced at the others. Aragorn had no problems understanding the message, and neither had Gandalf, but the Elf and the Dwarf seemed a little at a loss. "Who are you, and what is your business here?" the guards demanded. Their gaze was suspicious and even a little angered as they looked at Gandalf.
Gandalf continued the conversation in the same language, showing clearly that he was no stranger in these lands. "Very well do I understand your language, though few strangers do. If you seek answers it would be better to speak in the Common Tongue." The guards drew themselves up. "It is the will of King Théoden that none but those who speak our tongue are allowed entrance to the city in this time of war. Who are you to come riding to our gates on horses that look like our
own, and strange clothes? Tell me, are you a wizard or one of Saruman's spies?"
"We come to return the horses that were lent to us by Éomer, just two days ago, as we promised. Has he not returned to tell of this?" As a concerned look entered the guards eyes, Boromir's suspicions that something was wrong at the Golden Hall were confirmed. He had seen a little of it on his journey to Rivendell, when he had passed here, but his mission had been urgent and he could not afford to stop and investigate then. He had hoped that Théoden, who was a wise King, would be able to deal with it. It seemed things had only gotten worse these last months. 'This is bad.' he thought. The Rohirrim had always been one of the strongest allies to Gondor. If they fell, the White City's defenses would be diminished greatly. He hoped Gandalf would somehow get through to Théoden.
"I have nothing to tell you about Éomer." the guard said, "If what you say is true, I do not doubt that the King has heard of it. But maybe your comming here was not totally unexpected: it has been only two nights since Wormtongue came to us, saying it was the King's wish that no stranger would pass this gate." Boromir narrowed his eyes at the name. He had seen this so - called advisor: a bleak man with dark eyebrows who seemed to plot constantly. He had stayed away from the man when he had been here. So he was the cause of these problems!
"Say nothing more." Gandalf said. "My message was not meant for Wormtongue but for the King himself. I am in a hurry, would you not go tell the him that we have arrived?" His ancient eyes seemed to nearly pierce the guard, and he agreed to go quickly. "Wich names do you wish me to give him?" A small smile played around the Wizards lips as he said "Gandalf, Boromir, son of Denethor (the man's eyes widened as he caught hold of the oldest son of the Steward of Gondor), Aragorn, son of Arathorn, the Elf Legolas and the Dwarf Gimli, son of Gloín. Now go tell your King that we wish to speak with him, if he will allow us to enter his gates."
"Strange names you give!" the guard exclaimed, "I will go to announce your request, but do not hope for the answer. These are dark times." And with that the guard dissapeared into the gates. Boromir felt a nudge into his side. Looking to his right, he saw Legolas raise an eyebrow at him. "What was that all about?" he asked, keeping his voice low. "One of the
advisors of the King, someone who everybody calls Wormtongue, has apparently clouded the King's good judgement. Ganadlf has aked for our admittance into the city, but the command is that only those of Rohan itself, and people from Gondor may enter freely. Keep an eye open for this Wormtongue, my friend, I believe he will give us trouble yet." Legolas nodded, determination in his eyes, and they both focused back on the gates.
A few moments later, the guard reappeared. "Follow me," he said, "Théoden grants you leave to enter the city. But every weapon that you have will have to be left at the doorstep. The gatekeepers will guard them." The dark gates were opened and they followed their guide in. At the top of the hill, steps led to the door of Théoden's 'palace'. On the topmost step, two chairs stood, hewn out of stone. The guards who resided here stood up, armor gleaming in the sun. Their guide left them there. "May the King of the Mark show you mercy!" he said before leaving.
While the five ascended the stairs, the gatekeepers rose, silently watching them. When Gandalf reached the terras, they drew their swords and presented them, hilts first, to the travelers. They spoke a greeting in their own language, then repeated it in common. Boromir saw Legolas and Gimli relax slightly now they could understand what was going on around them. One of the guards stood in front of his companions. "I am Háma, the Doorkeeper of Théoden." he said, "I must ask you to lay aside your weapons here, before you can enter."
To Boromir's surprise, Legolas was the first one to lay down his bow, quiver and knives, although with a warning to treat them cautiously, since they were a present from the Lady of the Golden Wood. The Gondorian had thought that his friend would be a little dubious of the command, since not all Humans were known to be so friendly against his kind. But Legolas, it seemed, trusted his friends to keep him safe.
Even more amazing it was to him that the one who did cause trouble, was Aragorn. The soon to be King apparently had no wish to be separated from his sword. "It is against my will to lay down Andúril, or to give it in the hands of someone else." "It is Théoden's will." Háma replied. "I do not see that the will of Théoden, even though he is the King of Rohan, should be thought higher than the will of Aragorn, son of Arathorn, Elendil's heir of Gondor." "This is the house of Théoden, not of Aragorn, even if he was King of Gondor on the seat of Denethor." Háma nearly snapped, while swiftly turning his sword so that the tip was pointed at the strangers.
Boromir moaned inwardly. Of all the times Aragorn could have pulled rank, he had to choose this particular one. The tension in the air was thick enough to be cut, Legolas was shifting nervously beside him, eyes darting around. Gimli's fingers tensed around the hilt of his axe, although he didn't draw it out yet. Gandalf started arguing with Aragorn, but the Ranger wasn't about to give up yet.
Stepping in front of Legolas, Boromir drew his sword and handed it, hilt first, to Háma. Unbuckling his shield and drawing out his hunting knife from it's place in his boot, Boromir surrendered these also. "Here you have my weapons, good guard, keep them safe." Háma stared at him for a while, then gave him a short bow. "It will be as you ask, Lord Boromir." he said with a smile, "It is always good to have one of our allies from Minas Tirith visiting." Boromir returned the smile. "It is always good to be here." "Well, if Boromir's sword can stand here without shame, so can my axe." Gimli said, handing the weapon to Háma. "And you shall also receive my sword." the Wizard said, giving Glamdring. Aragorn sighed in defeat, seeing that all the others complied with Théoden's command, he unbuckled his sword and put it against the wall. "I'll leave it
here," he said, "until I come back. Be aware that everybody who draws Elendil's sword, but his heir, will die." "If everything is to your wish now," Gandalf said, "you can let us in to speak with your Master."
But Háma didn't move. "Forgive me," he said, "but I must ask you to hand me your staf." Now it was Gandalf's turn to be cross. "I am an old man." he said indignantly, "If I am not allowed my staf to lean upon, I will stay here until Théoden comes outside himself." Háma looked at him with narrowing eyes, then proclaimed "I believe you to be a friend, and therefor I will let you keep your staf, because I do not think you are here to harm anyone. Come, you may enter."
The great doors swung upon, revealing a long, dark room with tapestries along the walls and a throne on one side. They passed the woven cloth that Boromir had so admired when he first had seen it. It displayed Eorl, sitting high upon his mighty horse, riding to battle. Gandalf pointed it out to the others, before continuing past the great fire to the dais upon which the throne stood.
Théoden sat on his throne, but the difference between the proud King he had seen some months ago and the bowed figure that was residing there now was painfully clear to Borormir. As was the reason to this change. The cousilor called Wormtongue was perched on the highest step at the King's feet, looking over the strangers with plotting eyes. Éowyn was there as well, caring for Théoden, as was her wont. There was a sparkle of hope in her eyes as she looked upon them, hoping for someone to break through to the man she loved as a father.
The long silence that lay between the 2 groups was broken by Gandalf. "Hail, Théoden, son of Thengel! I have returned, for the is approaching and now all friends must be united, lest they are defeated one by one." Théoden fixed his gaze on the Wizard as he slowly stood. "Greetings, " he said, "and maybe you expect hospitality. but to tell you the truth, your welcome here is dubious, for it seems to me that you come yet again to announce doom. I will not mislead you: I was glad when I heard that you did not return with Shadowfax. And I was even more pleased when Éomer told of your demise. But news from afar is seldom true, so there you are again, and with problems trailing at your heels. Then why would I welcome you, Gandalf? Can you answer that for me?"
Aragorn flexed his shoulders, and Boromir caught the movement. As for himself, he vowed that the creature that sat on the steps, looking awfully satisfied with itself, would pay for daring to trick the King into believing all those things. As he imagined something concerning his sword and the foul councilor, Wormtongue spoke.
"You speak very rightly, Lord. Why not even 5 days ago we received the bitter news that your son, Théodred had fallen in battle. There is little confidence in Éomer, for there would be very few left to defend the city if he would be allowed to rule. And now we have received news from Gondor that the Dark Lord has risen again. Why then would we welcome you, if you choose such a time to return, master Storncrow. Láth-spell, I call you, ill-news. And ill-news is a bad friend, as people say."
'That's it,' Boromir thought, 'if I have the chance I will try Faramir's approach. I'll beat him with his own words!' Wormtongue smiled slyly, raising his heavy eyelids for a moment to survey the strangers. A smirk of contempt crossed his lips as he caught sight of Gimli and Legolas. The Elf tensed at his side, and Gimli seemed very displeased about having had to leave his trusty axe behind at the door. Boromir laid a hand on the Elf's lower arm, whispering "Don't mind his looks, he is not worth it." Legolas narrowed his eyes, but relaxed his muscles a little.
"You are considered a wise person, friend Wormtongue, and are undoubtly a great support for your master. But there are two ways in which a person can bear ill tidings. He can be an instigator of evil, or maybe he comes only when help is needed, to lend his support." Wormtongue gave him a smile of victory. "But there is also a third kind." he said softly, "Those who stick their noses in the sorrow and and suffering of others. Birds of prey, becoming fat from war. What help have you ever brought, Stormcrow, and what help do you bring now? You it was, who asked for our help the last time. And you could choose a horse and in your unashamedness, you chose Shadowfax. It was a high price to pay, but according to some, not to high to see you leave the country. I have no doubt that is the same now. What help do you offer? Sword? Spears? That I would call help, that we crave at this moment. But who are these people that follow you like dogs? Four shabby wanderers in grey and you the worst of all!"
Boromir stepped forwards before Gandalf had the chance to stop him. He threw open his grey mantle, revealing himself in the light that shone through the hole in the roof. "Are you calling the eldest son of the Steward of Gondor a beggar?" he asked in a deadly tone. Wormtongues eyes grew as large as they could probably get, as he stared in horror at a factor that his scheming did not include. He knew he had made a terrible mistake in offending one of their allies like that, and his mind was racing to correct the damage before it had time to crack the spell his words had held Théoden in.
Boromir recognized the look of slight panic in Wormtongues eyes and decided to press his advantage. 'Faramir will have a good laugh at this.' he thought, 'His battle-loving brother beating someone in wits, instead of knocking him down with the flat of my blade.' He ignored Wormtongue and adrressed Théoden directly. "My Lord," he said, "your realm is in danger. I myself have seen the foul creatures of Saruman running through it without your permission. And with the help of my comrads I have come to warn you. I would fight by your side in this battle, King Théoden, before I return home to my own city, knowing that yours is safe. You cannot delay much longer, your people at the Westfold are suffering!"
Théoden cast a glance at Wormtongue. "Is this true?" he asked. Wormtongue let his eyes dart around frantically. "There is
a battle at the Westfold, my Lord, but I'm sure your people have it under control." Théoden looked about to agree with his councilor when Boromir interfered again. "Would you have your son die for nothing, Lord? Théodred fought hard to keep his people safe, and now you would abandon them?"
Théoden started back as if he had been hit physically. He shook his head dazedly, keeping his eyes fixed on Boromir, who, for a second, thought that he had gone too far. Then he heard Ganadlf speak. "It is not too late yet, Lord. I have much council to give you, if you are willing to take it." Théoden looked around again, then he stood and moved down to go to Gandalf. Wormtongue stood up and grabbed the King' arm, stopping him from descending. "Do not listen to them, my King. They are schemers, aided no doubt by the Lady of the Wood, as Éomer told us."
Gimli shot straight at those words, and, had Gandalf not restrained him, would probably have done something very foolish. "The wise only speak of what they know, Grima Wormtongue." the Wizard said, his anger barely contained. "I have not come here to exchange words with an unloyal servant until the lightning strikes!" With that, he lifted his staf and a white light flashed at the place where the counsilor stood, seeming as if lightning had come straight through the roof. When he no longer saw black spots, Boromir appraised the scene in front of him. Théoden stood still on the dais, Grima lying on the highest step, face-down and unmoving.
"Weel Théoden, what say you?" the Wizard said, all sound of treath gone from his voice, "Would you listen to the advice that I can give you?" Théoden nodded and went down the stairs. Boromir couldn't help a smile from showing on his face. Gandalf had convinced the King to listen to them, soon Théoden would control his own thoughts again . . . and he could take care of his 'coucilor'. "Open the doors!" the Wizard said, "The King of the Mark is coming out." Once again the gates opened wide, letting in the morningsun.
Once they stood on the dais, Boromir could see that the last strands of daze had left the King's eyes. "It's not so dark out here." Théoden said. "Nor does your age weigh so heavy on you as you think." Gandalf replied. Théoden looked out across his land, then turned to Gandalf. He sighed "But I am still old, not even you can cure that." "Maybe you could remember your strength better if you would hold your sword again." Théoden moved his hand to his hip, but didn't find his sword hanging there. "Where has Grima put it?" he asked himself. "Take this, Lord, it has always been at your bidding."
Éomer stood at the top of the stairs, kneeling before Théoden and presenting his sword, wich the King took, albeit reluctantly. Then he lifted it high, crying a warcall in his own language. His guards came rushing towards him, drawing their swords and laying them at his feet. "Well Gandalf, you said you had some council for me." Théoden said, smiling slightly at the Wizard. "You have already taken it, by putting your trust in Éomer, in stead of in someone with a twisted mind. But there is still much of what we must speak." "Perhaps, but I would feel better if I had my own sword again. Háma ! Fetch my councilor and my sword, please." The guard nodded, then went back into the palace.
After a few moments, he reemerged with the pale creature at his heels. From where he was standing, Boromir could only understand fragments of the conversation, but he saw that Théoden was obviously no longer willing to take for granted everything that his coucilor told him. "You have a chance to prove your loyalty to me, Grima. Théoden suddenly said. "Ride to battle with me, and prove yourself worthy, or depart now, but know that I will not grant you mercy at our next meeting." Grima looked like he was going to say something, but then his posture went rigid and he spat at the fet of the one he had been trying to corrupt. He then sprinted down the stairs.
Boromir saw him go, and looked longingly at his sword. The fiend would pay for corrupting the King and insulting his friends like that. But he could wait until they would meet again. Smiling to himself, Boromir added this little point to his mentally built 'to do' - list.
"Come now!" Théoden said, "I invite you, my guests to eat and drink with me, before we ride to battle." And with that he sent a few messengers to call upon the young men that lived close by to arm themselves and get ready to fight.
Boromir, Legolas and Gimli followed back into the Golden Hall for a much deserved breakfast and lunch. "A fight," Gimli quitely said, trying to mask the anxiety in his voice, "I bet these Riders can put up a good one if they wish it." Boromir laughed, "Aye, that they can!" he said. "You better watch your back this time, Boromir." Legolas told him, a mischievous sparkle in his eyes, "I may not be around to stop some . . . stray arrows." And with a laugh, the Elf dodged the playfull blow that the Human aimed at his arm. "One day, Elf ... " Boromir treathened jestingly. Then they all laughed and entered the doors.
--------------------------------
Whiiiiiiiiiiiii! Next chapter brings the Battle at Helm's Deep! I promise!
For now, did you like?
Review please! They always make me happy!
to collegetwin: well here he is Boromir in Rohan ;) Tell me if you liked it!
Lady of Legolas & Princess of Mirkwood : is there going to be a ? I think I know what you mean, and it was intended as one, but the there was this stupid removal of nc- 17 and I decided not to. But if you keep asking me ;)) I may actualy rewrite it to be one, but then I'll probably post it somewhere I can go all the way :))
skahducky: thanks! really appreciate it .
Elf Wench : this soonish enough? :))
Kelly: naaah, Faramir is just going to have to suffer a little more, the poor guy. But it'll be one hell of a reunion :))
Ruth: I trie to make my chapters nice and longue, but you got to stop somewhere right? :)) Thanks for reading!
So I still don't own any of them, and here's chapters 5:
Trouble in Rohan
*****************
It took the five travelers two days more, but then they stood above their intended target. Some miles of still, the Golden Hall of the Rohirrim stood, shining in the early sunlight. Boromir couldn't see movement as of yet, but he did not doubt that Meduseld was well garded, even though it did not appear thus from where they waited.
"Tell me, Legolas, what you can see down there." Gandalf asked. The Elf obeyed, shadowing his eyes with a hand. "I see a wilver river, running past a great building wich appears to have a golden roof." he said. "It seems that all are still asleep within the walls." "That is Edoras." Gandalf said, "Home to King Théoden. We must be cautious: I do not think that everybody is still asleep, although I would seem like that from afar." With a look at all of them, he added "It would also be wise to not speak haughty words before we have reached Théoden's throne."
Boromir exchanged a look with Aragorn, silently agreeing that they could be humble, if only for a while. They rode further, past the great mounds that were standing in honour to the fallen Kings of earlier times. At cthe gates, they saw that there were indeed guards, even at this early hour. When they saw them, they lifted their spears and blocked the road into the city.
"Halt, strangers!" they called out in a language that Boromirwas familiar with. It was the Rohirrim's own speach, one that few outside their kingdom understood. Boromir glanced at the others. Aragorn had no problems understanding the message, and neither had Gandalf, but the Elf and the Dwarf seemed a little at a loss. "Who are you, and what is your business here?" the guards demanded. Their gaze was suspicious and even a little angered as they looked at Gandalf.
Gandalf continued the conversation in the same language, showing clearly that he was no stranger in these lands. "Very well do I understand your language, though few strangers do. If you seek answers it would be better to speak in the Common Tongue." The guards drew themselves up. "It is the will of King Théoden that none but those who speak our tongue are allowed entrance to the city in this time of war. Who are you to come riding to our gates on horses that look like our
own, and strange clothes? Tell me, are you a wizard or one of Saruman's spies?"
"We come to return the horses that were lent to us by Éomer, just two days ago, as we promised. Has he not returned to tell of this?" As a concerned look entered the guards eyes, Boromir's suspicions that something was wrong at the Golden Hall were confirmed. He had seen a little of it on his journey to Rivendell, when he had passed here, but his mission had been urgent and he could not afford to stop and investigate then. He had hoped that Théoden, who was a wise King, would be able to deal with it. It seemed things had only gotten worse these last months. 'This is bad.' he thought. The Rohirrim had always been one of the strongest allies to Gondor. If they fell, the White City's defenses would be diminished greatly. He hoped Gandalf would somehow get through to Théoden.
"I have nothing to tell you about Éomer." the guard said, "If what you say is true, I do not doubt that the King has heard of it. But maybe your comming here was not totally unexpected: it has been only two nights since Wormtongue came to us, saying it was the King's wish that no stranger would pass this gate." Boromir narrowed his eyes at the name. He had seen this so - called advisor: a bleak man with dark eyebrows who seemed to plot constantly. He had stayed away from the man when he had been here. So he was the cause of these problems!
"Say nothing more." Gandalf said. "My message was not meant for Wormtongue but for the King himself. I am in a hurry, would you not go tell the him that we have arrived?" His ancient eyes seemed to nearly pierce the guard, and he agreed to go quickly. "Wich names do you wish me to give him?" A small smile played around the Wizards lips as he said "Gandalf, Boromir, son of Denethor (the man's eyes widened as he caught hold of the oldest son of the Steward of Gondor), Aragorn, son of Arathorn, the Elf Legolas and the Dwarf Gimli, son of Gloín. Now go tell your King that we wish to speak with him, if he will allow us to enter his gates."
"Strange names you give!" the guard exclaimed, "I will go to announce your request, but do not hope for the answer. These are dark times." And with that the guard dissapeared into the gates. Boromir felt a nudge into his side. Looking to his right, he saw Legolas raise an eyebrow at him. "What was that all about?" he asked, keeping his voice low. "One of the
advisors of the King, someone who everybody calls Wormtongue, has apparently clouded the King's good judgement. Ganadlf has aked for our admittance into the city, but the command is that only those of Rohan itself, and people from Gondor may enter freely. Keep an eye open for this Wormtongue, my friend, I believe he will give us trouble yet." Legolas nodded, determination in his eyes, and they both focused back on the gates.
A few moments later, the guard reappeared. "Follow me," he said, "Théoden grants you leave to enter the city. But every weapon that you have will have to be left at the doorstep. The gatekeepers will guard them." The dark gates were opened and they followed their guide in. At the top of the hill, steps led to the door of Théoden's 'palace'. On the topmost step, two chairs stood, hewn out of stone. The guards who resided here stood up, armor gleaming in the sun. Their guide left them there. "May the King of the Mark show you mercy!" he said before leaving.
While the five ascended the stairs, the gatekeepers rose, silently watching them. When Gandalf reached the terras, they drew their swords and presented them, hilts first, to the travelers. They spoke a greeting in their own language, then repeated it in common. Boromir saw Legolas and Gimli relax slightly now they could understand what was going on around them. One of the guards stood in front of his companions. "I am Háma, the Doorkeeper of Théoden." he said, "I must ask you to lay aside your weapons here, before you can enter."
To Boromir's surprise, Legolas was the first one to lay down his bow, quiver and knives, although with a warning to treat them cautiously, since they were a present from the Lady of the Golden Wood. The Gondorian had thought that his friend would be a little dubious of the command, since not all Humans were known to be so friendly against his kind. But Legolas, it seemed, trusted his friends to keep him safe.
Even more amazing it was to him that the one who did cause trouble, was Aragorn. The soon to be King apparently had no wish to be separated from his sword. "It is against my will to lay down Andúril, or to give it in the hands of someone else." "It is Théoden's will." Háma replied. "I do not see that the will of Théoden, even though he is the King of Rohan, should be thought higher than the will of Aragorn, son of Arathorn, Elendil's heir of Gondor." "This is the house of Théoden, not of Aragorn, even if he was King of Gondor on the seat of Denethor." Háma nearly snapped, while swiftly turning his sword so that the tip was pointed at the strangers.
Boromir moaned inwardly. Of all the times Aragorn could have pulled rank, he had to choose this particular one. The tension in the air was thick enough to be cut, Legolas was shifting nervously beside him, eyes darting around. Gimli's fingers tensed around the hilt of his axe, although he didn't draw it out yet. Gandalf started arguing with Aragorn, but the Ranger wasn't about to give up yet.
Stepping in front of Legolas, Boromir drew his sword and handed it, hilt first, to Háma. Unbuckling his shield and drawing out his hunting knife from it's place in his boot, Boromir surrendered these also. "Here you have my weapons, good guard, keep them safe." Háma stared at him for a while, then gave him a short bow. "It will be as you ask, Lord Boromir." he said with a smile, "It is always good to have one of our allies from Minas Tirith visiting." Boromir returned the smile. "It is always good to be here." "Well, if Boromir's sword can stand here without shame, so can my axe." Gimli said, handing the weapon to Háma. "And you shall also receive my sword." the Wizard said, giving Glamdring. Aragorn sighed in defeat, seeing that all the others complied with Théoden's command, he unbuckled his sword and put it against the wall. "I'll leave it
here," he said, "until I come back. Be aware that everybody who draws Elendil's sword, but his heir, will die." "If everything is to your wish now," Gandalf said, "you can let us in to speak with your Master."
But Háma didn't move. "Forgive me," he said, "but I must ask you to hand me your staf." Now it was Gandalf's turn to be cross. "I am an old man." he said indignantly, "If I am not allowed my staf to lean upon, I will stay here until Théoden comes outside himself." Háma looked at him with narrowing eyes, then proclaimed "I believe you to be a friend, and therefor I will let you keep your staf, because I do not think you are here to harm anyone. Come, you may enter."
The great doors swung upon, revealing a long, dark room with tapestries along the walls and a throne on one side. They passed the woven cloth that Boromir had so admired when he first had seen it. It displayed Eorl, sitting high upon his mighty horse, riding to battle. Gandalf pointed it out to the others, before continuing past the great fire to the dais upon which the throne stood.
Théoden sat on his throne, but the difference between the proud King he had seen some months ago and the bowed figure that was residing there now was painfully clear to Borormir. As was the reason to this change. The cousilor called Wormtongue was perched on the highest step at the King's feet, looking over the strangers with plotting eyes. Éowyn was there as well, caring for Théoden, as was her wont. There was a sparkle of hope in her eyes as she looked upon them, hoping for someone to break through to the man she loved as a father.
The long silence that lay between the 2 groups was broken by Gandalf. "Hail, Théoden, son of Thengel! I have returned, for the is approaching and now all friends must be united, lest they are defeated one by one." Théoden fixed his gaze on the Wizard as he slowly stood. "Greetings, " he said, "and maybe you expect hospitality. but to tell you the truth, your welcome here is dubious, for it seems to me that you come yet again to announce doom. I will not mislead you: I was glad when I heard that you did not return with Shadowfax. And I was even more pleased when Éomer told of your demise. But news from afar is seldom true, so there you are again, and with problems trailing at your heels. Then why would I welcome you, Gandalf? Can you answer that for me?"
Aragorn flexed his shoulders, and Boromir caught the movement. As for himself, he vowed that the creature that sat on the steps, looking awfully satisfied with itself, would pay for daring to trick the King into believing all those things. As he imagined something concerning his sword and the foul councilor, Wormtongue spoke.
"You speak very rightly, Lord. Why not even 5 days ago we received the bitter news that your son, Théodred had fallen in battle. There is little confidence in Éomer, for there would be very few left to defend the city if he would be allowed to rule. And now we have received news from Gondor that the Dark Lord has risen again. Why then would we welcome you, if you choose such a time to return, master Storncrow. Láth-spell, I call you, ill-news. And ill-news is a bad friend, as people say."
'That's it,' Boromir thought, 'if I have the chance I will try Faramir's approach. I'll beat him with his own words!' Wormtongue smiled slyly, raising his heavy eyelids for a moment to survey the strangers. A smirk of contempt crossed his lips as he caught sight of Gimli and Legolas. The Elf tensed at his side, and Gimli seemed very displeased about having had to leave his trusty axe behind at the door. Boromir laid a hand on the Elf's lower arm, whispering "Don't mind his looks, he is not worth it." Legolas narrowed his eyes, but relaxed his muscles a little.
"You are considered a wise person, friend Wormtongue, and are undoubtly a great support for your master. But there are two ways in which a person can bear ill tidings. He can be an instigator of evil, or maybe he comes only when help is needed, to lend his support." Wormtongue gave him a smile of victory. "But there is also a third kind." he said softly, "Those who stick their noses in the sorrow and and suffering of others. Birds of prey, becoming fat from war. What help have you ever brought, Stormcrow, and what help do you bring now? You it was, who asked for our help the last time. And you could choose a horse and in your unashamedness, you chose Shadowfax. It was a high price to pay, but according to some, not to high to see you leave the country. I have no doubt that is the same now. What help do you offer? Sword? Spears? That I would call help, that we crave at this moment. But who are these people that follow you like dogs? Four shabby wanderers in grey and you the worst of all!"
Boromir stepped forwards before Gandalf had the chance to stop him. He threw open his grey mantle, revealing himself in the light that shone through the hole in the roof. "Are you calling the eldest son of the Steward of Gondor a beggar?" he asked in a deadly tone. Wormtongues eyes grew as large as they could probably get, as he stared in horror at a factor that his scheming did not include. He knew he had made a terrible mistake in offending one of their allies like that, and his mind was racing to correct the damage before it had time to crack the spell his words had held Théoden in.
Boromir recognized the look of slight panic in Wormtongues eyes and decided to press his advantage. 'Faramir will have a good laugh at this.' he thought, 'His battle-loving brother beating someone in wits, instead of knocking him down with the flat of my blade.' He ignored Wormtongue and adrressed Théoden directly. "My Lord," he said, "your realm is in danger. I myself have seen the foul creatures of Saruman running through it without your permission. And with the help of my comrads I have come to warn you. I would fight by your side in this battle, King Théoden, before I return home to my own city, knowing that yours is safe. You cannot delay much longer, your people at the Westfold are suffering!"
Théoden cast a glance at Wormtongue. "Is this true?" he asked. Wormtongue let his eyes dart around frantically. "There is
a battle at the Westfold, my Lord, but I'm sure your people have it under control." Théoden looked about to agree with his councilor when Boromir interfered again. "Would you have your son die for nothing, Lord? Théodred fought hard to keep his people safe, and now you would abandon them?"
Théoden started back as if he had been hit physically. He shook his head dazedly, keeping his eyes fixed on Boromir, who, for a second, thought that he had gone too far. Then he heard Ganadlf speak. "It is not too late yet, Lord. I have much council to give you, if you are willing to take it." Théoden looked around again, then he stood and moved down to go to Gandalf. Wormtongue stood up and grabbed the King' arm, stopping him from descending. "Do not listen to them, my King. They are schemers, aided no doubt by the Lady of the Wood, as Éomer told us."
Gimli shot straight at those words, and, had Gandalf not restrained him, would probably have done something very foolish. "The wise only speak of what they know, Grima Wormtongue." the Wizard said, his anger barely contained. "I have not come here to exchange words with an unloyal servant until the lightning strikes!" With that, he lifted his staf and a white light flashed at the place where the counsilor stood, seeming as if lightning had come straight through the roof. When he no longer saw black spots, Boromir appraised the scene in front of him. Théoden stood still on the dais, Grima lying on the highest step, face-down and unmoving.
"Weel Théoden, what say you?" the Wizard said, all sound of treath gone from his voice, "Would you listen to the advice that I can give you?" Théoden nodded and went down the stairs. Boromir couldn't help a smile from showing on his face. Gandalf had convinced the King to listen to them, soon Théoden would control his own thoughts again . . . and he could take care of his 'coucilor'. "Open the doors!" the Wizard said, "The King of the Mark is coming out." Once again the gates opened wide, letting in the morningsun.
Once they stood on the dais, Boromir could see that the last strands of daze had left the King's eyes. "It's not so dark out here." Théoden said. "Nor does your age weigh so heavy on you as you think." Gandalf replied. Théoden looked out across his land, then turned to Gandalf. He sighed "But I am still old, not even you can cure that." "Maybe you could remember your strength better if you would hold your sword again." Théoden moved his hand to his hip, but didn't find his sword hanging there. "Where has Grima put it?" he asked himself. "Take this, Lord, it has always been at your bidding."
Éomer stood at the top of the stairs, kneeling before Théoden and presenting his sword, wich the King took, albeit reluctantly. Then he lifted it high, crying a warcall in his own language. His guards came rushing towards him, drawing their swords and laying them at his feet. "Well Gandalf, you said you had some council for me." Théoden said, smiling slightly at the Wizard. "You have already taken it, by putting your trust in Éomer, in stead of in someone with a twisted mind. But there is still much of what we must speak." "Perhaps, but I would feel better if I had my own sword again. Háma ! Fetch my councilor and my sword, please." The guard nodded, then went back into the palace.
After a few moments, he reemerged with the pale creature at his heels. From where he was standing, Boromir could only understand fragments of the conversation, but he saw that Théoden was obviously no longer willing to take for granted everything that his coucilor told him. "You have a chance to prove your loyalty to me, Grima. Théoden suddenly said. "Ride to battle with me, and prove yourself worthy, or depart now, but know that I will not grant you mercy at our next meeting." Grima looked like he was going to say something, but then his posture went rigid and he spat at the fet of the one he had been trying to corrupt. He then sprinted down the stairs.
Boromir saw him go, and looked longingly at his sword. The fiend would pay for corrupting the King and insulting his friends like that. But he could wait until they would meet again. Smiling to himself, Boromir added this little point to his mentally built 'to do' - list.
"Come now!" Théoden said, "I invite you, my guests to eat and drink with me, before we ride to battle." And with that he sent a few messengers to call upon the young men that lived close by to arm themselves and get ready to fight.
Boromir, Legolas and Gimli followed back into the Golden Hall for a much deserved breakfast and lunch. "A fight," Gimli quitely said, trying to mask the anxiety in his voice, "I bet these Riders can put up a good one if they wish it." Boromir laughed, "Aye, that they can!" he said. "You better watch your back this time, Boromir." Legolas told him, a mischievous sparkle in his eyes, "I may not be around to stop some . . . stray arrows." And with a laugh, the Elf dodged the playfull blow that the Human aimed at his arm. "One day, Elf ... " Boromir treathened jestingly. Then they all laughed and entered the doors.
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Whiiiiiiiiiiiii! Next chapter brings the Battle at Helm's Deep! I promise!
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