Part 13:
The members of the Company left the balcony when Nuhision dismissed them and went their separate ways. The day was warm and bright, the grasses waving in the sweet breeze and the sun overhead shining in a deep blue cloudless sky. Gimli decided he was going to go and pack his things, what little he had, for the trip on the morrow. They were going to Fangorn and he remembered Fangorn, he thought with a frown. Millions of bloody trees and leaves and pollen that made him sneeze, that was Fangorn. Dangerous sort of thing. Gimli stumped off to his chambers, his face set in a determined scowl. Well, this time he'd kill twice as many orcs as he had in the last battle they'd had there. No one would ever fell a dwarf easily! And they were making a detour, right when Mordor was a few weeks journey to the south. Well, he did want to see Lothlorien again. Gimli, helmet in his chubby hands, resigned himself to his fate with typical Dwarvish impatience.
Elladan and Elrohir were saddling their horses in the courtyard outside the halls. They wanted to get them used to battle manoeuvres on harsh terrain again, and they also wanted some time to prepare their own minds for battle. Perranun and Elenion were great mounts; however, like most Elvish horses, they were not especially built for battle and had the delicate lines of gently and highly bred animals. Elladan was especially worried, and he stroked Perranun's head as he thought about Firgoniel, whom he had left in Rivendell, carrying the heirs. What was he to do, so far away? He supposed he could send for her in Lothlorien, but she was better off in Rivendell. Elrohir was not so much worried about his wife as he was about his sister, who had insisted on joining the Elvish army when they reached Gondor. Both twins were a little surprised that Gandalf wanted to back away from Mordor, now that they were closer, and go to Lothlorien instead. It was unlike Elrond to agree with this sort of indirect route, but then again, they were wise, and probably wanted to consult with the Lady herself before going on. The twins mounted their horses smoothly and broke into a canter across the rolling fields, each preoccupied with their own thoughts.
Elrond himself was locked in conference with Gandalf and Nuhision again. They were in Nuhision's study, now bright with the early afternoon sun, and Gandalf was painstakingly setting the tiny elessars into each of the twenty Rohan Riders' weapons as Elrond and Nuhision spoke.
"I have decided to go to Lorien because I do not know what type of strategy to take with this Zycrah creature. I have never fought anything that uses no weapons that I can see. The Lady Galadriel is a specialist, shall we say, in matters of the mind and soul; she will know what to do. I do apologise for prolonging the journey."
"Elrond, my friend, you are the wisest in the ways of the enemy, save Gandalf here, and Rohan is at your disposal, wherever you wish to take us. The Riders will not mind taking a short trip to Lorien; also, I know that you wish to arrange meetings there for your Company. That alone is a gratitutious thing for you to do."
Elrond sighed. "They miss their families and loved ones. It is well-known men fight better if they know they have something to fight for. Legolas was very upset last night, and I know he wishes he had never agreed to join this Quest. The others . . . I cannot say. Elladan and Elrohir, as they always have, share their secret thoughts only among each other, but I know that Elladan worries about his wife and unborn children. Gimli is hard to read, as he is a Dwarf, but Aragorn pines for Arwen, that much is seen in the depths of his eyes. I must give them their rest and mental refreshment before I turn them into battle against something that even I hesitate to face!"
Nuhision nodded quietly. "I understand completely. I do not mind, as I have said, taking the road to Lorien before we go to Gondor to assemble the troops. I am at your command, my lord." He stood and bowed his massive head in the Rohan fashion. Elrond smiled as Gandalf looked proud and the three readied themselves and their troops for the long tramp into Fangorn.
Aragorn was in his chambers, sitting at the window, Anduril on his lap. He was polishing its smooth, sharp silver blade as his mind travelled over the leagues back to Rivendell, where Arwen waited for the call to bring the troops to Gondor. Aragorn was a little annoyed that they were going to Lorien first; it meant a longer wait before battle and a longer distance between Arwen and himself. He missed her with his whole soul, and counted the days until Elrond would let him bring her back to Gondor as his bride. He brought out his whetting stone and began to sharpen Anduril's blade to perfection as his thoughts drifted on the wind over the grasses.
Legolas had chosen to go for a long walk out on the fields, to clear his mind. He rather regretted getting so emotional the night before with Elrond, but it was at night that he missed Elladriel and Ashira the most. He felt the soft wind lift his hair gently over his straight shoulders as the grasses whispered amongst themselves all the secrets of the earth since the beginning of time. He stopped at a crest of a small hill near one of the many streams that ran through fertile Rohan and flung himself down, lying full length on the soft turf. He stared up into the neverending blue and made a promise that no matter whatever happened in the battle to come, he would always stay true to Mirkwood and his father's kingdom. Having done this, he let his thoughts drift away as the grasses waved with eternity before them.
********
Morning came early the next day as the Company was roused before sunrise and prodded into action. There was an air of busywork that day around the Halls, as horses were readied for travel and weapons were polished, sharpened, set with an elessar and loaded onto their owners' backs. Lembas, made by the Rohan cooks according to a special recipe slipped to them by Elrond, was wrapped in great amounts and packed into saddlebags, along with jars of mead and entwater and normal staples such as dried meat, bread and cheese with wine in skins bulging on the packhorses' sides. Armour was brought out, oiled and donned as the first cracks of red split the dark sky in the East and at Elrond's command, the whole assembly of warriors mounted up, with Nuhision on the back of Telperonwen and his strongest son on Nelumaiel.
"Let us be off! We must pass Fangorn before dark else the Orcs will slay us for their dinner!" boomed Gandalf, leading the pack on Shadowfax, the great leader returned for one more go at evil. His white robes gleamed in the pale dawn light and his face was set in determination. Legolas, on Arod with Gimli behind him, almost felt as if nothing could go wrong with Gandalf leading the armies once again.
With a grand cry of "Hai!" scores of shod hooves began drumming the turf as the army from Rohan swung into a steady canter across the emerald fields. As the sun rose, the hoofbeats faded, until it was almost as if the frenzied mood of the day had been dreamt by those who had experienced it. As the hoofprints faded from the grassy fields, they almost felt it had.
Or had it?
The members of the Company left the balcony when Nuhision dismissed them and went their separate ways. The day was warm and bright, the grasses waving in the sweet breeze and the sun overhead shining in a deep blue cloudless sky. Gimli decided he was going to go and pack his things, what little he had, for the trip on the morrow. They were going to Fangorn and he remembered Fangorn, he thought with a frown. Millions of bloody trees and leaves and pollen that made him sneeze, that was Fangorn. Dangerous sort of thing. Gimli stumped off to his chambers, his face set in a determined scowl. Well, this time he'd kill twice as many orcs as he had in the last battle they'd had there. No one would ever fell a dwarf easily! And they were making a detour, right when Mordor was a few weeks journey to the south. Well, he did want to see Lothlorien again. Gimli, helmet in his chubby hands, resigned himself to his fate with typical Dwarvish impatience.
Elladan and Elrohir were saddling their horses in the courtyard outside the halls. They wanted to get them used to battle manoeuvres on harsh terrain again, and they also wanted some time to prepare their own minds for battle. Perranun and Elenion were great mounts; however, like most Elvish horses, they were not especially built for battle and had the delicate lines of gently and highly bred animals. Elladan was especially worried, and he stroked Perranun's head as he thought about Firgoniel, whom he had left in Rivendell, carrying the heirs. What was he to do, so far away? He supposed he could send for her in Lothlorien, but she was better off in Rivendell. Elrohir was not so much worried about his wife as he was about his sister, who had insisted on joining the Elvish army when they reached Gondor. Both twins were a little surprised that Gandalf wanted to back away from Mordor, now that they were closer, and go to Lothlorien instead. It was unlike Elrond to agree with this sort of indirect route, but then again, they were wise, and probably wanted to consult with the Lady herself before going on. The twins mounted their horses smoothly and broke into a canter across the rolling fields, each preoccupied with their own thoughts.
Elrond himself was locked in conference with Gandalf and Nuhision again. They were in Nuhision's study, now bright with the early afternoon sun, and Gandalf was painstakingly setting the tiny elessars into each of the twenty Rohan Riders' weapons as Elrond and Nuhision spoke.
"I have decided to go to Lorien because I do not know what type of strategy to take with this Zycrah creature. I have never fought anything that uses no weapons that I can see. The Lady Galadriel is a specialist, shall we say, in matters of the mind and soul; she will know what to do. I do apologise for prolonging the journey."
"Elrond, my friend, you are the wisest in the ways of the enemy, save Gandalf here, and Rohan is at your disposal, wherever you wish to take us. The Riders will not mind taking a short trip to Lorien; also, I know that you wish to arrange meetings there for your Company. That alone is a gratitutious thing for you to do."
Elrond sighed. "They miss their families and loved ones. It is well-known men fight better if they know they have something to fight for. Legolas was very upset last night, and I know he wishes he had never agreed to join this Quest. The others . . . I cannot say. Elladan and Elrohir, as they always have, share their secret thoughts only among each other, but I know that Elladan worries about his wife and unborn children. Gimli is hard to read, as he is a Dwarf, but Aragorn pines for Arwen, that much is seen in the depths of his eyes. I must give them their rest and mental refreshment before I turn them into battle against something that even I hesitate to face!"
Nuhision nodded quietly. "I understand completely. I do not mind, as I have said, taking the road to Lorien before we go to Gondor to assemble the troops. I am at your command, my lord." He stood and bowed his massive head in the Rohan fashion. Elrond smiled as Gandalf looked proud and the three readied themselves and their troops for the long tramp into Fangorn.
Aragorn was in his chambers, sitting at the window, Anduril on his lap. He was polishing its smooth, sharp silver blade as his mind travelled over the leagues back to Rivendell, where Arwen waited for the call to bring the troops to Gondor. Aragorn was a little annoyed that they were going to Lorien first; it meant a longer wait before battle and a longer distance between Arwen and himself. He missed her with his whole soul, and counted the days until Elrond would let him bring her back to Gondor as his bride. He brought out his whetting stone and began to sharpen Anduril's blade to perfection as his thoughts drifted on the wind over the grasses.
Legolas had chosen to go for a long walk out on the fields, to clear his mind. He rather regretted getting so emotional the night before with Elrond, but it was at night that he missed Elladriel and Ashira the most. He felt the soft wind lift his hair gently over his straight shoulders as the grasses whispered amongst themselves all the secrets of the earth since the beginning of time. He stopped at a crest of a small hill near one of the many streams that ran through fertile Rohan and flung himself down, lying full length on the soft turf. He stared up into the neverending blue and made a promise that no matter whatever happened in the battle to come, he would always stay true to Mirkwood and his father's kingdom. Having done this, he let his thoughts drift away as the grasses waved with eternity before them.
********
Morning came early the next day as the Company was roused before sunrise and prodded into action. There was an air of busywork that day around the Halls, as horses were readied for travel and weapons were polished, sharpened, set with an elessar and loaded onto their owners' backs. Lembas, made by the Rohan cooks according to a special recipe slipped to them by Elrond, was wrapped in great amounts and packed into saddlebags, along with jars of mead and entwater and normal staples such as dried meat, bread and cheese with wine in skins bulging on the packhorses' sides. Armour was brought out, oiled and donned as the first cracks of red split the dark sky in the East and at Elrond's command, the whole assembly of warriors mounted up, with Nuhision on the back of Telperonwen and his strongest son on Nelumaiel.
"Let us be off! We must pass Fangorn before dark else the Orcs will slay us for their dinner!" boomed Gandalf, leading the pack on Shadowfax, the great leader returned for one more go at evil. His white robes gleamed in the pale dawn light and his face was set in determination. Legolas, on Arod with Gimli behind him, almost felt as if nothing could go wrong with Gandalf leading the armies once again.
With a grand cry of "Hai!" scores of shod hooves began drumming the turf as the army from Rohan swung into a steady canter across the emerald fields. As the sun rose, the hoofbeats faded, until it was almost as if the frenzied mood of the day had been dreamt by those who had experienced it. As the hoofprints faded from the grassy fields, they almost felt it had.
Or had it?