Reforging the Fellowship

By Michael Weyer

Part four: En route to Edoras

They had stopped for a rest, something the Fellowship much needed. It was a cliffisde looking out toward Edoras, giving them an excellent view of the country. Gandalf was the only one who not taken rest, instead staring out at the horizon in contemplation.

Boromir's attempts to sleep where mostly futile. He had rested for a bit due to exhaustion but not as much as he should have. He could still see the fear in Frodo's eyes when he had gone after him, the realization of what Boromir was going to do. It reminded him once more of his shame and that there was something he had not yet done.

He rose from his small blanket and headed over to the edge of the cliff. Gandalf was there with Aragon, the two evidentially finishing a conversation. They both turned to see Boromir approach.

"There is something on your mind, old friend?" Gandalf asked.

Boromir hesitated before nodding. "Yes." He glanced at Aragon and then down. "I…I tried to take the Ring from Frodo. I…was prepared to kill him for it."

Instead of anger or even surprise, Gandalf simply nodded. "I had feared that would occur. The pull of the Ring is strong. Even I felt it and had to beg Frodo not to give it to me."

Boromir shook his head. "I knew the tales. I knew the dangers but…" He held up his hand and clutched his fist. "In that moment…I was willing to do anything…to kill anyone…to let the world burn…if I could hold it for just one moment."

"That is its true power," Gandalf softly said. "It makes you think you can control it instead of it controlling you. That is how it seduces."

"But that is only part of the reason," Boromir said. He paused, looking out at the horizon. "You did not know this but…I had another reason for coming to the council at Rivendale."

The two men were interested as Boromir continued. "My father had learned the Ring had been found. He told me that he suspected that was what the Council was about. He sent me out to find a way to bring the Ring back to Gondor, to use against the Enemy."

Gandalf pursed his lips in obvious disapproval as Aragon shook his head. "Yes," Boromir agreed. "A foolish notion, I know that now. But my father…" He took a deep breath and then looked to Aragon. "His father died young so my father has ruled as Steward for a long time, before I was born. It is difficult to defend against Mordor, especially in the last several years when they have grown in strength." He paused before continuing. "I fear it has gotten to my father, has worn at his mind and strength. He is desperate for what he sees as any means to defend our people."

"And in doing so," Gandalf grimly stated. "He will lead them to ruin."

Boromir slowly nodded and looked to Aragon again. "There is something else. There are many in Gondor who have long accepted that the true King will never return. My father…although I cannot say for sure, I believe he is one of them. As I said, he has ruled for a long time and I fear he may not be as willing to give up that rule, even if it is to the true heir."

"I do not wish to be King," Aragon rumbled. "Let him keep his throne."

Gandalf frowned deeply. "You cannot escape your destiny, Aragon. Men need to have their king return, to lead them. It, more than even the destruction of the Ring, is what will ultimately defeat Sauron."

Aragon glanced at Boromir. "I recall what you told me at Rivendale. That Gondor needs no King."

Boromir blanched slightly. "Yes. Yes, I said it. But I was wrong. I know that now." He met Aragon's gaze, his own suddenly stronger. "You resisted the Ring. If nothing else says volumes about your spirit and character, that would suffice. You can lead the men of this world. They will follow you as I will."

He held his fist to his heart and drew himself up. "Wherever you go, I will follow you. My brother. My captain. My King."

Aragon felt more respect for Boromir than he ever had before. He saw the truth in the man's eyes, the realization he had fallen hard but was pulling himself back up. He smiled and nodded. "Thank you."

Gandalf smiled himself as he gazed out at the sky. "Tomorrow we reach the heart of Rhoan," he intoned. "And from there…fate will take us at is it will."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

The sun was just rising as they rode out into the plains. They were heading toward Edoras, trying to avoid any patrols. Arwen was leaning against Aragon, her eyes scanning the horizon when they stopped. "Wait," she called out to the others. She pointed to the hills a distance off. "I see smoke."

Legolas frowned as he rode up to her, his own eyes peering out. "I see it as well," he said. "About a mile away. I see the tops of huts…a village."

The group shared looks and then aimed their horses in that direction. They took off at a gallop, rushing toward the smoke. They saw it grow and also saw the flicker of flames. Arwen and Legolas were the first to hear the screams that carried in the air and increased the horse's pace.

They entered the open area of the village and saw the carnage taking place. The villagers were being attacked by men with long hair and beards, their faces wild as they went at the helpless villagers. Several homes were already on fire and the bodies of men and women were scattered about, their corpses marked with savage cuts.

One of the wildmen turned around, his large axe held as Aragon's horse rode toward him. With a single sweep, Aragon's blade cut him down. Arwen slipped off the horse and removed her own curved blade. Another Wildman charged at her, screaming out as he swung his axe. Arwen ducked the blow and slashed across his stomach. She rose to smash the butt on his head to send him down.

Legolas had already loosened two arrows to cut down a pair of attackers. Gimli managed to get off the horse and moved in, his axe up and ready. A Wildman tried to attack him but Gimli's size threw his blow off and the dwarf cut him down. He swung the axe around to slice another Wildman's leg off at the ankle. The man collapsed on the ground, screaming and clutching at his bloody stump. His screaming stopped as Gimli's axe landed on his sternum.

Boromir was off his horse and rushing toward the inner part of the village, his weapons out. He cut down a Wildman about to thrust his sword into a downed woman and then thrust the blade into the throat of another. He was pulling out when he heard the cries of a woman and the sound of steel on steel.

He ran over to a farm at the outskirts of the village. The main building was on fire and he could see bodies on the ground. It took a moment to realize several were of the wild men attacking the village. It took another moment to see the figure responsible for those deaths.

She wasn't that tall but seemed greater at the moment. Her red hair was in a pair of braids that framed her attractive face. She wore a dark brown jerkin with leather scouting breeches and boots, with protective clasps over her shoulders. Her hands were encased in thick leather gloves and in each one, she held a powerful axe. One was blocking the thrust of a Wildman while the other slashed out at another.

Boromir moved quickly, his own sword held up as he charged. He sliced it down and killed the Wildman at the woman's left. That distracted the other long enough for the woman to kill him quickly.

A yell got attention and Boromir turned to see another pair of Wildmen attack. He met one's blows, deflecting them with his sword and cutting across his chest. Behind him, the woman dodged a thrust of a Wildman's blade and sliced both axes across his throat, nearly decapitating the man.

She turned, heaving for breath and saw Boromir. She brushed sweat from her bow and nodded a thanks. Boromir returned it as he wiped his sword on a corpse. "Are you all right?"

The woman simply stood there, her eyes looking to the farmhouse. "Are you all right?" Boromir repeated, concerned at her mood.

She stared at the house, tears in her eyes. "My family," she whispered. "My parents…my sister…they were…" She choked suddenly as Boromir flooded with sympathy upon realizing what happened. He was about to move to her when he heard sounds behind him. He turned to see the rest of the Fellowship coming forward.

"What happened?" he asked.

"Wildmen of the North," Aragon stated as he kicked a corpse. "They apparently attacked without warning or mercy."

"Why?"

"Saruman," Gandalf stated as he came down the hill. "He has made these Wildmen his first agents against Rhoan. He has used their old hatreds of Rhoan to further his own agenda."

"And these people have paid the price," Boromir softly said, his eyes on the woman. She had turned from the house and was headed to one of the bodies. She knelt to go through the man's clothing, pulling out a small dagger.

"Are you all right?" Arwen asked.

The woman turned, a light sheen in her eyes. "Yes…My family was…" She took a breath. "They came without warning. Most of us were cut down before we realized what was happening. My parents and sister were struck down while I was in the fields. I came as soon as I could and…" She shivered and rubbed her arms.

The rest nodded in sad understanding. "I am sorry," he said.

The woman brushed back her hair and took a deep breath. She looked up at them, trying to collect herself. "I…thank you. I am Morwen."

The others quickly introduced themselves before Gandalf gently spoke. "We are going to Edoras. Will you be all right here?"

She paused, staring at the burning flames. "Are you seeking the King?" she asked.

"We are," Boromir confirmed. "We are trying to raise a force against Saruman."

She turned to face him, her features strong. "Then I will come with you. I have nothing here now. All I want is to avenge them."

"I am not sure…" Aragon began.

"I will go," Morwen interrupted, her eyes flaring. "With or without you."

Arwen placed a hand on Aragon's shoulder and leaned in. "With us, her grief would not overwhelm her," she whispered.

Aragon considered that and then nodded. He turned to the woman and bowed his head. "Very well. Do you need supplies or clothing?"

"I have nothing," Morwen stated in a flat tone as she marched past them. "Nothing at all."

They watched her march away, Legolas rubbing his chin. "That woman carries much pain within her."

"Yes," Gandalf stated as he began to follow her. "But perhaps with us, she may find a new path for herself."

Boromir tagged after them, thinking of that woman. A great fighter but having lost almost everything important in her life. He felt a great empathy for this woman as it hit him that in some ways, she was a kindred spirit. The thought flashed through his mind as he helped her onto his horse and they rode towards Edoras.

Author's note: The character of Morwen is from EA Games' The Third Age video game.