Chapter Five

A Gift From Gandalf


Surprisingly, Elora found the Golden Hall without much trouble. Soldiers milled about quickly, gathering weapons and supplies for the road ahead. Many stood pouring over maps with King Theoden, who stood at the end over a table making plans for the trip to Helm's Deep. Unable to understand what they were saying, she turned and looked about for the door. Thinking quickly, she decided her best path to finding Gandalf was through the horses. So, darting quietly out the door so as not to draw attention to herself, she ran down the steps and out of the building.

The stables were not a long way from the hall and she found them easily by following the sounds of high pitched whinnies and stomping hooves. The building itself was amazing upon her discovery of it. Filled with horses of every shade and color, all proof of the horsemanship, extensive breeding, and care of the Rohirrim. Hasufel, Arod, and Shadowfax were stabled on the end of the long aisle way. All were alert at the bustle inside as the soldiers mounted their horses and equipped them for battle.

Elora smiled warmly, thinking lightly of Snowy, and appraising each in turn with an eye of a rider. All three were powerfully built, with glossy coats, well-formed muscles, and long legs. Her eyes were drawn to the large, white horse standing on the far end. His ears were pricked tensely as he watched the goings on of the barn.

She smiled, "So this is the mighty Shadowfax?" She said softly, approaching the great horse cautiously. He had large, deep brown eyes that were full of wisdom and life. He snorted as she stopped at the stable door, looking up at him with a smile. She reached out her hand slowly to him and eyeing it curiously, the Prince of Mearas gently nudged the tips of his fingers before turning away and looking for another point of interest to occupy himself.

Elora frowned, recalling distantly a moment similar to this...only then she had been with Snowy...he had still been alive and everything had been right. She moved away from the stall, not wanting to recall memories as painful as those and swiftly trying to push them to the back of her mind.

"You found the stables quickly." Commented a deep, rumbling voice from behind her. Elora whirled in a bout of surprise to find herself standing face to face with Gandalf, the Istari. She shuddered, wondering again how this could all be real. He cleared his throat,

"I am sorry I did not have time to speak with you sooner..."

"No! That's all right...I was fine." More then anything she DID NOT WANT Gandalf the White apologizing to HER. A worthless mortal who wasn't even suppose to be here in the first place. She thought she saw the shadow of a smile pass over the old wizard's face, but it was soon gone.

"Would you like to sit down?" He asked, she quickly shook her head. "All right. I know you have a number of questions to ask of me, some I may be able to answer, others might only be told through time. What is it that you wish to know of me?"

I looked at him, took a long deep breath. "I do not understand how I came to be here...I was only out riding...and then here I am."

"Where is your home?"

In the US of A, she wanted to reply, but bit her lip. That might not sound good...at all. Elora smiled sheepishly "No where near here."

He nodded understandingly, and did not ask anything more about my home...for which I was eternally grateful. For I did not know how I would answer his questions if he asked them of me without sounding crazy...or like a spy of Sauron. Neither of which she DID NOT currently wish to be classified as.

"That is one of those questions," he said "which we can only find out with time."

Elora's forehead was wrinkled in thought, she twirled a lose curl unconsciously as she tried to form the right works for her next question. "But...but Gandalf-sir...um...why exactly am I here? What is the point of all of this?"

Gandalf was silent for a moment. "Fate and reason is something not for our minds. There is a reason for everything and a time for everyone under the sun. I believe you will discover that someday for yourself. Do you know how to get back to your home?"

Elora's face blanched, and she slowly shook her head. That was a mystery she was never going to understand nor even try to uncover.

"Then, I believe you will be staying here with us in the meantime anyway." He answered, nodding as if to confirm his theory. He looked back up at her, his blue eyes sparkling. "I thought since you insist of acting the part of a man,"

Elora blushed at the reference to her outlandish style of dress...there was no point in trying to explain her want to dress in trousers and a tunic...so she didn't bother. But this thought did not lessen the brightness of her cheeks.

"That you might want this:" He drew out from under his cloak a long sword. Two horses were engraved into the hilt which was mounted with soft leather. Elora's eyes widened as she looked upon it.

"That...is for me?"

Gandalf nodded with a smile and chuckled as she slowly took it into her grasp in stark astonishment. She gripped the hilt tightly, a pleased smile on her face. Then slowly it faded and she looked back up at him. "But I've never used a sword before."

"Ah, but see, you will learn something during your stay...it might as well be useful."

The smile returned and she looked again at her reflection in the polished metal. "I believe you might get your young friend to teach you how to use it exactly." He said.

Elora's eyebrows raised slightly,

"Relicor I think his name was?"

Elora gaped at the wizard who responded with a hearty laugh. "You do not think wizards are blind as well as deaf? Be off with you, prepare to leave the city."

Elora nodded, grasping her sword tightly in one hand and then bolting from the stable like a skittish horse. On her way out she passed Aragorn...held the sword high, and despite all her wishes to appear grown-up in his eyes, could not help but do a half-prance before darting into the streets. Leaving the ranger with a bemused look on his face as she left him behind.

Looking about the stable-yard for a familiar face, she saw Eowyn who bade her with a quick wave to join her. The lady smiled at her as she displayed her sword. "Ah, the old man had requested a light-handed sword last night while you slept. I did not know it would be granted to you."

"It is wonderful." Elora said excitedly. "I've never had a sword before."

"No? Well, there is a first time for everything." Eowyn said. "That was the first sword I learned to fight with as a girl, not much younger then you. My brother hated the idea of me fighting and did everything he could to dissuade me." She smiled wistfully. "He never could though, and he's never underestimated me since." She met Elora's eyes once more and Elora could read a deep regret and sadness that she had never noticed before. "Never give up Elora, your trials may only be milestones in your path, but that is what makes them the greater victories when overcome."

Elora could think of nothing to say, so she merely nodded and glanced at the dun horse who was standing lazily next to Eowyn. "Who is this?" She asked, reaching out to rub the horse's muzzle.

"This is Besorg. He is to be your mount."

Elora looked up at Eowyn with shining eyes. "Really? He's wonderful!" She smiled as she hesitantly stroked the horse's tan flanks. He looked back at her with two large, brown eyes. He blinked, snorted, then turned away and began to doze off with a sigh.

"Lord Aragorn requested him for you. I don't know why...Besorg is a mighty animal...but spirited. Do you think you can handle him?"

Elora thought of Snowy with a painful twinge. Snowy's blood-lines had made him naturally energetic...she could recall dismounting after a long ride with blisters on her hands. Elora nodded and looked back at Eowyn. "Yes, I can."

Eowyn nodded and smiled encouragingly at her. "This is good. We are leaving Edoras within the hour, you need to be ready by then." She handed Elora the reins and smiled briefly at her.

"Yes milady."

"No, I told you." The older woman replied, winking mischievously at the younger girl. "Call me Eowyn."


Elora saddled Besorg without much difficulty. The Rohirric saddles were strange...like ancient western saddles back home. That in itself was foreign to her since she was more familiar with the lighter, versatile English saddles she had used to ride Snowy. Besorg, as she had been warned, was spirited and he pranced as she swung her body up onto his back. She steadied him with some soft reassurances and a few pats, feeling at once at home on his long, stocky back. Besorg reminded her of a mustang, his black mane was long, the forelock draping his forehead and laid softly upon his eyes.

Once she had mounted and had tied her meager possessions to the saddle, she nudged Besorg into a trot and looked for signs of her new companions. She spied Gandalf on his great white horse by the gates, speaking with the king. She glanced around the masses of the Rohirrim trailing out of the city, but did not see either of the three riders whom had brought her here in the first place. Sighing, she nudged Besorg in the crowd and began the long journey out of the city. It would be noon soon...and by that time the great city of Edoras, its halls, houses, stables, and cottages...would all be empty.

They were going to Helm's Deep.


I finally updated this story. EEK! The beginning of 'A Loss of Memory' was TERRIBLE! I mean, it was my first fanfic. And all, but ...shudders you know the rest. :)

Terms to Know:

Flank: Region of a horse between the hips and the tail.

Forelock: Horse bangs

Dun: A tan horse, with black points, (Mane, tail, legs) and commonly a long stripe from their withers, down their backs and to their tails.

Note: Besorg is not a new character, but is merely 'Isildur' from 'A Loss of Memory'. I didn't want to keep Isildur as his name because, though I am not certain of the subject, the Rohirrim wouldn't know much about Isildur. Besorg is a Rohirric name so I chose it instead.

Thanks again to my beta and to all who have reviewed or who are reading!

TO BE CONTINUED...