PART 10
The wind blew softly against the Company's cheeks and hair as they cantered across the plains. It was a perfect day to ride, full of warmth, happiness and peace. Legolas found himself wondering if he wouldn't just like to stay here, where his horse would be happiest and he would always feel at peace. It was then he remembered that he didn't have a choice anymore - he must stay in Mirkwood and raise his daughter as the next ruler. These fields, he knew, were not for Elves anyway, and he knew he would always miss the forest.
The morning seemed to dim as for the first time since the Company had set out from Rivendell, Legolas' thoughts turned back to his family. Arod sensed his sadness and his normally springy step became heavier. It had been three days, plenty of time for his message to reach Mirkwood. He wondered what Elladriel would think of him, just taking off on another quest without even giving her time to get used to the idea. And Ashira! Every day he was away was another day he missed out on her growth and charm. Legolas' head bowed under the sun and his hands went slack on the reins.
The rest of the Company were riding beside the two centaurs, who, seemingly much happier, were telling the stories of how they came to be. Nelumaiel was elegantly reciting the historic poems of their people, while Telperonwen interrupted her at several points to gaily interject with something that really had no relevance at all, which was her way. This led to annoyed looks from Nelumaiel, but Telperonwen was blissfully unaware of those as she cantered and reared on her powerful legs, her dark hair sparkling under the high sun.
They stopped at noon and slid off the horses by a small cold blue stream running through the field. The Company began to take out lembas to eat, but the centaurs stopped them and reaching into their own packs, brought out the finest bread, cheese and meat from the Golden Halls of Rohan. Gimli was delighted at this change and jumped upon the food eagerly, and Aragorn and Gandalf soon followed him at a more sedate pace. The four Elves were a little wary at first, but they tasted the food and settled down into blissful feasting with their other friends. The centaurs themselves stopped for a drink, but ate nothing.
"We do not need to eat," said Nelumaiel, "but once a day. Centaurs are known for their resilience, and the only meal we do partake of is the main one in the evening." She was cut off and pushed aside by Telperonwen, who said, "But Nelumaiel only says this because she wants to watch her figure!" She took off with Nelumaiel in close pursuit amidst the group's laughter.
Soon it was time to continue, and the Company rode on again. The afternoon was warm, and they soon saw something sparkling under the sun in the distance. As they cantered closer and closer, the object began to take form and the tall spires of a palace began to come into view. Here they stopped.
Nelumaiel spoke. "It is the custom, even with friends, for the natives of our land to blindfold strangers. We too have been instructed to do this, for you must not know the way to the Palace. I will be the first to apologise, because you are kind, but it is the custom." Telperonwen even gravely nodded and handed her sister strips of cloth.
"We will lead your horses to the Palace, do not fear, and the Rohan horses know the way themselves." Nelumaiel quietly blindfolded them all, even the grumbling Gimli ("Again, blindfolded, as if we were enemies, by the Valar . . .") and the rest of the journey was made in darkness.
The Company felt their horses pull up sometime later and the blindfolds were removed. The sun was setting, casting pink and gold and purple light over the wide sky above. The sight of this alone was breathtaking, but the group only had eyes for the palace before them.
It rose impossibly high into the sky, its towers and spires seeming to touch the stars. It was made almost entirely of gold, which reflected the coloured light of the setting sun like a mirror. It sparkled and glowed and its light played across the faces of the Company. The two centaurs walked up to the gates, made entirely of mithril and jewels, and pulled a silken rope. A unearthly chiming noise sounded over the grasses and made the horses raise their heads alertly as the gate swung slowly open.
Nelumaiel, her back straight and her head elegantly raised, said, "Welcome, friends, to my master's house, the Golden Halls of Rohan."
The horses, without any command from their riders, trotted through the gate and into another world. The Halls seemed to cast their golden light over everything, and as the Company rode closer, they felt their cares dropping away from them in a way that even Rivendell could not do for them. Along the sides of the road they trotted on, gardens of Elvish-making bloomed and pools of sparkling water fell and gurgled charmingly. The centaurs led them up to the great silver doors and Telperonwen, a smile on her face, knocked twice in the Rohan fashion.
The doors swung open slowly, and the Company were asked to dismount. The horses trotted to the centaurs, who bid them well and walked away to the stables. They were bid to come inside, and they stepped through the doors into a wonderful Great Hall. Its walls were golden and paintings of the fields, the Shire and even one of Rivendell hung on them. There was the customary long table, set with a feast that was reminiscent of the ones at Gondor, and the sweet air, scented with the grasses, blew over the Company and the Hall, making them feel at peace.
Aragorn was especially moved, and he kept gazing around him with wonder and delight. "This is my ancestral home, you know. What a wonderful place it has become! If only Gondor could rise to this standard again!"
"Gondor is the child of Rohan. One day, it will be as beautiful. But all things take time to grow, heir of Isildur." A strange, deep voice wafted through the hall and the Company quickly turned to see a tall, regal figure descending the stairs.
The man was taller than any of the Company and his black hair streamed over his breast almost to his waist. He was clean-shaven, which was odd for a human, and wore the finest mithril mail and rich clothing that surpassed even the Elves. He stood straight, and his face was deeply tanned, weathered with lines of care and age passing over the dark skin. His eyes, green as the fields he ruled, glittered down at the Company, and gave off extreme wisdom. He spoke.
"Welcome to my home. I am the Supreme Rider of Rohan, the last of my kind and the only one to truly know your danger besides yourselves. I am known here in my home as Nuhision. You may call me such." He turned his gaze to Elrond and Gandalf. "I wish to speak to you, Gandalf, and you, Elrond. The rest may join the table for the evening meal. Elessar!" he called suddenly. "It would be best if you came too." He turned to lead the way up the shining stairs.
The rest of the Company turned towards the large table and sat quietly to await greater things to come.
The wind blew softly against the Company's cheeks and hair as they cantered across the plains. It was a perfect day to ride, full of warmth, happiness and peace. Legolas found himself wondering if he wouldn't just like to stay here, where his horse would be happiest and he would always feel at peace. It was then he remembered that he didn't have a choice anymore - he must stay in Mirkwood and raise his daughter as the next ruler. These fields, he knew, were not for Elves anyway, and he knew he would always miss the forest.
The morning seemed to dim as for the first time since the Company had set out from Rivendell, Legolas' thoughts turned back to his family. Arod sensed his sadness and his normally springy step became heavier. It had been three days, plenty of time for his message to reach Mirkwood. He wondered what Elladriel would think of him, just taking off on another quest without even giving her time to get used to the idea. And Ashira! Every day he was away was another day he missed out on her growth and charm. Legolas' head bowed under the sun and his hands went slack on the reins.
The rest of the Company were riding beside the two centaurs, who, seemingly much happier, were telling the stories of how they came to be. Nelumaiel was elegantly reciting the historic poems of their people, while Telperonwen interrupted her at several points to gaily interject with something that really had no relevance at all, which was her way. This led to annoyed looks from Nelumaiel, but Telperonwen was blissfully unaware of those as she cantered and reared on her powerful legs, her dark hair sparkling under the high sun.
They stopped at noon and slid off the horses by a small cold blue stream running through the field. The Company began to take out lembas to eat, but the centaurs stopped them and reaching into their own packs, brought out the finest bread, cheese and meat from the Golden Halls of Rohan. Gimli was delighted at this change and jumped upon the food eagerly, and Aragorn and Gandalf soon followed him at a more sedate pace. The four Elves were a little wary at first, but they tasted the food and settled down into blissful feasting with their other friends. The centaurs themselves stopped for a drink, but ate nothing.
"We do not need to eat," said Nelumaiel, "but once a day. Centaurs are known for their resilience, and the only meal we do partake of is the main one in the evening." She was cut off and pushed aside by Telperonwen, who said, "But Nelumaiel only says this because she wants to watch her figure!" She took off with Nelumaiel in close pursuit amidst the group's laughter.
Soon it was time to continue, and the Company rode on again. The afternoon was warm, and they soon saw something sparkling under the sun in the distance. As they cantered closer and closer, the object began to take form and the tall spires of a palace began to come into view. Here they stopped.
Nelumaiel spoke. "It is the custom, even with friends, for the natives of our land to blindfold strangers. We too have been instructed to do this, for you must not know the way to the Palace. I will be the first to apologise, because you are kind, but it is the custom." Telperonwen even gravely nodded and handed her sister strips of cloth.
"We will lead your horses to the Palace, do not fear, and the Rohan horses know the way themselves." Nelumaiel quietly blindfolded them all, even the grumbling Gimli ("Again, blindfolded, as if we were enemies, by the Valar . . .") and the rest of the journey was made in darkness.
The Company felt their horses pull up sometime later and the blindfolds were removed. The sun was setting, casting pink and gold and purple light over the wide sky above. The sight of this alone was breathtaking, but the group only had eyes for the palace before them.
It rose impossibly high into the sky, its towers and spires seeming to touch the stars. It was made almost entirely of gold, which reflected the coloured light of the setting sun like a mirror. It sparkled and glowed and its light played across the faces of the Company. The two centaurs walked up to the gates, made entirely of mithril and jewels, and pulled a silken rope. A unearthly chiming noise sounded over the grasses and made the horses raise their heads alertly as the gate swung slowly open.
Nelumaiel, her back straight and her head elegantly raised, said, "Welcome, friends, to my master's house, the Golden Halls of Rohan."
The horses, without any command from their riders, trotted through the gate and into another world. The Halls seemed to cast their golden light over everything, and as the Company rode closer, they felt their cares dropping away from them in a way that even Rivendell could not do for them. Along the sides of the road they trotted on, gardens of Elvish-making bloomed and pools of sparkling water fell and gurgled charmingly. The centaurs led them up to the great silver doors and Telperonwen, a smile on her face, knocked twice in the Rohan fashion.
The doors swung open slowly, and the Company were asked to dismount. The horses trotted to the centaurs, who bid them well and walked away to the stables. They were bid to come inside, and they stepped through the doors into a wonderful Great Hall. Its walls were golden and paintings of the fields, the Shire and even one of Rivendell hung on them. There was the customary long table, set with a feast that was reminiscent of the ones at Gondor, and the sweet air, scented with the grasses, blew over the Company and the Hall, making them feel at peace.
Aragorn was especially moved, and he kept gazing around him with wonder and delight. "This is my ancestral home, you know. What a wonderful place it has become! If only Gondor could rise to this standard again!"
"Gondor is the child of Rohan. One day, it will be as beautiful. But all things take time to grow, heir of Isildur." A strange, deep voice wafted through the hall and the Company quickly turned to see a tall, regal figure descending the stairs.
The man was taller than any of the Company and his black hair streamed over his breast almost to his waist. He was clean-shaven, which was odd for a human, and wore the finest mithril mail and rich clothing that surpassed even the Elves. He stood straight, and his face was deeply tanned, weathered with lines of care and age passing over the dark skin. His eyes, green as the fields he ruled, glittered down at the Company, and gave off extreme wisdom. He spoke.
"Welcome to my home. I am the Supreme Rider of Rohan, the last of my kind and the only one to truly know your danger besides yourselves. I am known here in my home as Nuhision. You may call me such." He turned his gaze to Elrond and Gandalf. "I wish to speak to you, Gandalf, and you, Elrond. The rest may join the table for the evening meal. Elessar!" he called suddenly. "It would be best if you came too." He turned to lead the way up the shining stairs.
The rest of the Company turned towards the large table and sat quietly to await greater things to come.