Reforging the Fellowship

By Michael Weyer

Part six: En route to Helm's Deep

The march was harder than Morwen had expected. That was ironic since it was moving far slower than her companions would have preferred. Had this been an army of soldiers, they would have reached Helm's Deep in a little over a day. However, these were civilians, women and children. Thus, the march was forced to take their time with regular rest periods.

It was during one such that Eowyn came up to where Arwen and Aragon sat together. The conversation between the duo was cut off as they saw the woman smiling as she offered a small bowl. "I made you this," she told Aragon.

Aragon took the bowl from her, nodding his thanks as he lifted a spoon to his mouth. Arwen hardly needed any of her special skills to tell that whatever it was, it was horrible. Aragon paused and managed to swallow some as he nodded to Eowyn. "It's good," he got out.

She let out a grateful nod and turned away. Aragon immediately moved the bowl over to pour out its contents. Before he got far, Eowyn turned back to face him. "My uncle told me a strange thing."

Aragon quickly moved the bowl back and winced as the hot liquid poured onto his leg. Arwen put a hand to her mouth to stifle her giggle as the oblivious Eowyn continued. "He said you marched to war with my grandfather. But he must be mistaken."

Aragon nodded. "The King has a good memory. He was only a child then."

Eowyn frowned. "But that would make you at least 60."

Aragon turned away, embarrassed. "70?" Eowyn pressed. "You cannot be 80?"

"87."

Eowyn stared at him, slowly rising to her feet. "You…are one of the Dunedain," she stammered. "A descendant of Numenor, blessed with long life. It was said your race had passed into legend."

"There are a few of us left," Aragon softly stated.

Eowyn took a deep breath. "I…I am sorry. Please...please eat." She turned and headed away. Aragon frowned as he gazed to Arwen. "Was it something I said?"

Arwen shook her head. "You truly do not see it, do you?"

"See what?" Aragon asked in confusion.

Arwen leaned in. "The woman is attracted to you."

Aragon's eyes widened. "That…that cannot be."

"But it is."

"I don't even know her that well."

"That rarely matters." The elf smiled. "You did not truly know me and yet you fell in love with me, if you recall."

Aragon sighed. "I do not feel…that for her."

Arwen placed a hand to his shoulder. "I know," she softly stated. "She is still in pain over her brother's death. You must…tread carefully with her."

Aragon was quiet before shaking his head. "I just…This is a complication I had not expected."

Arwen nodded. "No one said the life of a King would be easy."

Aragon simply rolled his eyes.

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Boromir checked behind him to see Morwen riding at his side. She was still as quiet as she had been the entire ride. He'd hoped her earlier fire toward him might get her out of her depression but it seemed to have taken hold once more. He mulled his words before speaking. "I am sorry again for your family."

Morwen was quiet for a moment. "You have a brother, you said?"

Boromir nodded. "Yes, I do. He is in Gondor, aiding the defenses there."

"Are you close to him?"

"Yes," Boromir answered, unsure where this was going.

Morwen looked down. "I was not as…close to my sister as I would have liked to have been. It was difficult after our father died and I…I suppose I took too much of the responsibilities a man would. It created a rift between us that…we never healed. And now…now I will never have the chance to."

Boromir sighed, feeling the need to reach to her for comfort but knowing that she wanted some distance. "I am sorry."

Morwen shrugged. "It is something I must live with. Pain is part of the lives of those of us in the untamed lands."

"And I would not understand, would I?" Boromir hadn't intended to sound sardonic but it came out that way.

Morwen looked to him. "You have lived the life of a nobleman. You cannot understand why my life has been like."

"Perhaps not," he allowed. "But I know the life of a warrior. And I know what it is like to lose friends and loved ones. It is not easy to do so alone."

Morwen seemed ready to reply when the sound of a loud roar echoed through the small valley. They both looked up with surprised expressions as Aragon raced from a nearby hilltop. "Warg riders!" he called out.

There was a rush of panic as the soldiers moved in. Theoden immediately started to yell orders. "Taran! Take six other to escort the people! The rest with us!"

"Let me come!" Eowyn yelled.

"No!" Theoden stated. "I need you to get the people to Helm's Deep."

"But----"

"Please," Theoden hissed. "You must do this. For me." Eowyn closed her mouth and backed away. Arwen joined her, the elf's eyes fixed on Aragon's as he mounted a horse. The two shared a long nod before Aragon rode away.

Boromir quickly joined the other riders, kicking his heels as they came over a hill. He heard hoofbeats beside him and looked, starting as he saw Morwen riding beside him, her expression hard. He wanted to yell at her, to tell her to get back with the other women but they were already over the hill.

Legolas was firing arrows at the creatures riding hard. Each one looked like a wolf only as large as a horse and more vicious than any bear. Each was ridden by an orc waving a sharp blade. Legolas moved to leap onto Gimli's horse as the cavalry charged toward the Wargs.

The two groups met, riders thrown as horses and Wargs smashed into each other. Boromir swung his sword and cut an orc off his Warg, moving the steed quickly to avoid another charging beast. He saw Gimli down on the ground but still fighting and tried to get to him. However, a Warg appeared and pushed him off the horse. He fell back, rolling on the ground and rising to hold up his sword. Just as the Warg was about to reach him, an axe flew and struck its rider, sending them both to the side.

Boromir whirled to see Morwen off her horse, her other axe cutting down another orc. He nodded his thanks as he rushed to where Gimli was. The dwarf was pinned down under both a warg and the corpse of an orc with its head twisted at an unnatural angle. Boromir sliced down an orc that charged at him to get to his friend. He looked down and shook his head. "Only you, Gimli."

"Get me out of here fast!" the dwarf growled. "Before that damn elf sees me!"

Boromir quickly threw aside the orc's body and then, with Gimli pushing from below, managed to get the Warg off him. The dwarf gasped as he rose to his feet, hefting his axe and charging into battle.

"He doesn't embarrass easily, does he?" Morwen asked as she came up to Boromir.

The man shook his head. "They're miners born. It's only natural they have thick heads." Hefting his sword, he moved back into the battle.

By this point, most of the orcs had been killed along with their mounts, many Wargs racing off to the hills. Morwen felt a chill as she saw that most of the soldiers who had ridden were scattered around the ground. As one orc staggered to its feet, she let her anger out by cutting him down with a dual strike of her axes.

Boromir looked around as he joined Legolas. "Where's Aragon?"

The elf's face fell as he also looked around. "I do not know." He looked over to where an orc was slumped on a rock, heaving for breath due to the massive wound on its chest. Gimli was already there, holding an axe to its throat. "Tell me what happened to Aragon and I shall ease your passing."

The orc managed a choking laugh. "He…took a little tumble…over the cliff."

"You lie," Legolas hissed.

The orc just grinned and opened his hand. In it was the Elvenstar pendant Aragon always kept close. The orc let out a long last gasp as he died. Legolas reached and grabbed the pendant, staring at it. He then raced to the edge of the cliff and looked down to the river far below. Gimli, Boromir and Morwen joined him, all with stunned expressions on their faces.

"Get the wounded on horses," Theoden was calling to his men. "Leave the dead." He turned to the others, his expression somber. "I…I am sorry. We must go. The wolves of Isengard will return soon." He seemed ready to say something else but then turned away and walked back.

Morwen bowed her head. "He…he was a good man."

"He still is," Boromir stated.

Morwen stared at him in surprise. "You don't think he actually survived that, do you?"

"Gandalf fell far further," Boromir pointed out.

"He was a wizard," Gimli said. "Aragon is just a man."

"No," Legolas softly stated. "Not just a man." He turned and walked off, the rest following him.

"Who shall tell the Lady Arwen?" Gimli rumbled.

"If Aragon truly died, she would already know," Legolas coolly said. "And if lives…he will return to her. I am certain of that."

"Is that elven instinct?" Gimli asked. "Or just blind hope?"

Legolas gave him a thin-eyed look. "Hope is never blind, my friend. Hope is often all that carries us." That thought carried the group as they made their way to Helm's Deep.