Hey guys!

So, as promised the first part of the Two Towers! There's going to be a lot more of action and, of course, bonding.

I do no own Lord of the rings or it's characters or places.


Catching up to a running group of Uruks wasn't as easy as they'd thought. Not only was this kind stronger, bigger and broader. They were also faster and travelled in day-light, something that was a great disadvantage to them. The Uruks could decide to travel at daytime or night time, or both, and that made it even harder to catch up with them.

So far they had travelled from the Falls of Rauros over East Emnet, a dry landscape with little trees and many hills. Their clues existed out of Aragorn's hearing by putting his ears to the ground or footprints: big, deep and muddy. Sometimes pieces of bread along the road. But it either looked like it had been there for weeks, or the Uruks liked living spread. Maggots crept all over the the pieces of food. They even found a worn helmet once, covered with a white hand, so they knew they were on the right road.

"I need a break!" Gimli shouted from the back of their line. Mÿne skidded to a stop to let him catch up with her. "I'm not a runner." he admitted when he reached her. "Besides, we haven't had a break since dawn... It's nearly nightfall!" and he bend over to catch his breath. Aragorn came running back, looked at Gimli and nodded.

"A break would do us well." he said. He turned around and looked at their surroundings. Less trees meant less cover. And no fire.

"We will make camp under that cliff, about half a mile." Aragorn said as he pointed to a ledge of a stony hill, surrounded by dry, small bushes. "It will give us cover for bad weather and shelter against unwelcome eyes."


It was already dark when they sat down under the ledge. Mÿne rested her back against the rocky wall and sighed. Tiredness was washing over her. She could feel her feet burn and her shoulder pounded hard. Not even a week ago some Uruk had slashed her with his sword at Amon Hen. Aragorn had bandaged the wound, but it still hurt. According to him, it had not been a poisoned wound or blade but Mÿne was not sure. It hurt too much to be just a scratchmark from a blade.

Legolas provided them with some Lembas as he and Aragorn sat down. Mÿne took the Lembas with a half-hearted smile. It was good to have some food with them but after days with only Lembas... Mÿne thought it tasted like...well, nothing actually. It was dry and it crumbled in her mouth to little pieces, tasteless. She hungered for some grilled meat: deer or boar, preferable with a mug of ale. But unfortunately there was no time to visit inns or hunt. So she sat against the wall and chewed on the piece of Elven-bread.

Nobody said anything so her mind drifted away for a while. Not only had she gained this wound a couple of days ago, they'd also lost a member of their Fellowship. The image of Boromir, sinking down on his knees with three black arrows in his chest chased her. It kept her awake when she was trying to sleep and it slowed her down during the day. In her dreams she could hear the small 'thwack' as the arrows had hit his chest. His horn sounded like thunder and the screams of the little hobbits, taking by the Uruks, woke her up every night. It gave her no sleep, and Mÿne was certain that even Aragorn laid awake at night. He looked pale, thin and very tired. He did not speak much, only when necessary.

Mÿne gulped down the last piece of the bread and wrapped her Elven-cloak around her. It provided warmth, but wasn't really heavy. It seemed that the colour adjusted itself to their surroundings, because they weren't noticeable when they'd hid themselves in the last of the forest at Rauros, and Mÿne was certain that if she'd threw the cloak over herself right now, against the stony wall, Uruk-eyes would not see her. Not even if they stood right in front of her.

In her musings she caught Legolas staring at her.

"What is it?"she muttered to him. It was harsher then she'd intended but she was tired and she wanted to sleep.

"Nothing." Legolas said quickly. "You have some dirt on your face. Right, on your cheek." he said, before looking away to the sky, which was dark tonight and without stars.

He had been doing that a lot lately. Staring at her, telling she had a smudge, or her cloak was dirty or something else. Mÿne didn't know what was going on but it was annoying to her. She started to rub her face quickly. It wasn't like she could fresh up during their chase and she didn't exactly have the same stamina like the Elf. It seemed he could run for hours, without breaking a sweat.

"Is it gone?" she asked Legolas, looking at his direction.

"Yes, yes." he said, looking at her shortly, before turning his attention directly at the sky again.

Mÿne shrugged and wrapped herself tighter in her cloak. They'd set up a watch schedule pretty quick. Legolas would take the first, biggest part of the night, because Elves needed lesser sleep then they did. It seemed he didn't mind at all. So Mÿne laid down on the ground and closed her eyes.


They started their journey before the sun was up. It had been cold without a fire, but it was too dangerous to make one in an area where they could've been spotted easily. With a steady trod they took off, crossing a big hill that gave them view over a big part of East Emnet. So far they'd spotted nothing, besides some wild horses, galloping across the grassy grounds below them.

Around noon they had to descent the hill to the open road. It was easier to track the footsteps of the Uruks here. Sometimes Aragorn stopped to listen to the ground. Uruks were heavy and in a large group they could leave a thunderous sound in the earth. It was then that Aragorn could actually hear them march, a skill Mÿne envied.

"Their pace has quickened. They must've caught our scent. We must hurry." he got up and hurried on.

Gimli needed some support to help him through all the running. Being a Dwarf was not easy for these running days. Short legs, a beard that heated his face and much weight from his belly.

"Three day's and night's pursuit. No food, no rest, and no sign of our quarry but what some rocks can tell us..." he complained to Mÿne. She laughed a bit.

"You're jealous!" she said to him, while jumping over a large stone.

"Am not!" Gimli said, running around the stone. His breaths became short and soon he stopped talking. It seemed like he needed all the air he could muster for his running.

Now Legolas ran ahead of them, to scout with his elven-eyes. Behind him were Aragorn and Mÿne, who sometimes waited for Gimli to catch up. It was then, when Mÿne waited for him, that Aragorn discovered something new that gave them hope. He had put his head on the ground to listening for Uruks when he exclaimed something, got up and ran a couple of meters. He bend over and picked something up from the ground. Mÿne came up to him and watched over his shoulder.

"Not idly do the leaves of Lorien fall..." mused Aragorn, showing them the brooch in his hand.

It was made of green emerald shaped into a leaf, silver lining across it. Almost immediately, Mÿne's hand reached up to the one that was clasped at her own cloak. Each member of the Fellowship was gifted with such a trinket to fasten their elven cloaks. Even now, when half-broken and stamped on, it was clear what it was.

"They may yet be alive." Legolas said, looking at the broken trinket. He turned his gaze to the horizon, trying to spot movement.

"How long has it been there?" Myne asked as Aragorn pushed himself from the ground.

"Not long, I assume. They're less then a day ahead of us." he said, satisfied with what they'd found.

He put away the trinket in his pocket. "Come." and they picked up their pace again.

Behind her Mÿne could hear Gimli stumble from the small hill.

"Come Gimli, We are gaining on them!" Legolas shouted from the front, encouraging the small dwarf.

"I'm waisted on cross-country!" he yelled back, picking up his waddle-like pace. "We Dwarves are natural sprinters...Very dangerous over short distances!"


It was not even an hour later when they reached the end of East Emnet and stood upon the border of West Emnet. They could see the grassy grounds, not very much different form the other Emnet but more hills and rocks.

"Rohan." Aragorn said, "Home of the Horselords."

"Home." Mÿne repeated.

This was where she was actually from. But the word 'Home' tasted strange in her mouth. She hadn't had an actual home for years. She had always been with Aragorn, sleeping in tents, inns, sometimes just under the starry sky. 'Home' was a word she would never give a definition. And as she eyed the dull tall grass and the boring plains in front of her, this would certainly not become anything close to a home to her. It had used to be, in her life before the one she had now, but it was long forgotten in the past.

"There is something strange at work here. Some evil gives speed to this creatures, sets it's will against us." Aragorn continued.

Mÿne noticed the empty lands. Shouldn't there be riders out here? A cold wind stroke her cheeks, but it wasn't the cold that made Mÿne shiver. Aragorn was right, something was strange. It gave her the feeling of when she was scouting the route for the Fellowship. It gave her the feeling of Black Riders... She wasn't really looking forward to see those again.

Legolas stepped on a couple of stones and gazed before them. He squinted his eyes softly.

"Legolas! What can your Elf eyes see?" Aragorn said.

Mÿne secretly crossed her fingers. Anything but Black Riders. Legolas took a moment to take the plains into him.

After a minute he replied: "The Uruks are going North-east! They are taking the Hobbits to Isengard!"

There was only one person living in that place. And the thought of him gave Mÿne an wary chill down her spine. Maybe she found him even worse than Black Riders.

"Saruman." she and Aragorn mumbled together.

He had blocked them before, on the Path of Caradhras. Why not again, while they tried to rescue their friends? Mÿne felt her heart sink. What power did simple swords had against the magic and wisdom of a wizard?

"If they reach Isengard before us, it is over." Mÿne said to Aragorn, clasping his arm with her hand. "We cannot compete against Saruman."

Aragorn shook his head. "No, we cannot. We must hurry, run faster than we have ever done before." he said.

"Great." said Gimli, grunting loudly.


They had run for hours it seemed. Despite their rest over the night, Mÿne's feet screamed for a another break. Unfortunately they would not get any. They were forced to keep running if they would want to catch that damned group of Uruks.

The path they ran on was flattened by feet, the grass stamped into the ground. Still, it was too silent on the plains. No wild horses, no birds. Not even crickets. Only the sound of their own footsteps until suddenly another sound mingled with theirs. First, it was soft pounding on the earth under their feet. Soon, sounds of iron and wood could be heard.

From the back, Mÿne watched over her shoulder to see if something, or someone was following them. She could see a group of riders on the plains behind them. To her, it seemed far away, but horses moved fast. She called out to Aragorn, who was looking at the same group. They quickly ran over to a shady side of a small hill, to hide. There was a chance it was a group of riders with no good intentions. For seconds, but it felt like minutes, they waited for the riders to pass them. Then, with a thundering sound the group pounded over the path they had ran over. To Mÿne it was a vague mix of colours when they passed: green, brown and gold. Horses neighed and stomped on the ground.

After they'd passed Aragorn shot up and ran into open view, shouting at them. Mÿne was about to stop him but her hand missed his arm and grasped at the empty air.

"Riders of Rohan! What news from the Mark?!" he called, his voice strong across the plains.

Mÿne watched as one of the riders steered the group back, towards them. Banners flapped in the wind as they turned. The sound of hooves on the earth became louder again, as they neared them.

"I do not think that was a good idea..." Mÿne mumbled, eyeing the spears in the hands of the riders in green, gold and brown.

"It will be fine, Mÿne." Aragorn said, placing a reassuring hand on her shoulder.

But Mÿne's wary feeling was right. When the riders came to them, they surrounded her and her friends. The men pointed their spears at them and gave them angry looks. There were so many, there was no escape possible. Mÿne glared at the rider closest to her. His eyes were shadowed by his helmet, which looked a little too big for him. He wore the same outfit as the rest: an armour, made out of boiled leather and chainmail, decorated with horses and suns. Cavalry of the Rohan-army?

The leader of the Cavalry burst through the inner line of riders, eyeing them angrier than Mÿne had ever saw anyone. His eyes were dark and pierced right through her equally angry gaze.

"What business does an Elf, a Man, a Dwarf and a little girl have in the Riddermark?" he spat as he stopped his horse. "Speak Quickly!"

Mÿne stepped away from the spear aimed on her and bumped her painful shoulder against Gimli. She bit on her bottom lip to hold herself from wincing. Calling her a little girl was one thing, but she wouldn't act like one!

"Give me your name Horse-Master, and I will give you mine." Gimli said daring.

Mÿne rolled her eyes. Leave it to Gimli to anger the Horse-people even more. The leader of the Cavalry wasn't pleased as well. He jumped off his horse as Aragorn laid his hand on Gimli's shoulder, also not happy with what he'd said. First the Elves, now this.

"I'd cut off your head, Dwarf." the leader spat angry, "If it stood but a little higher from the ground."

Beside her Mÿne heard a sharp noise and before she knew it, Legolas had pointed an arrow at the leader.

"Legolas, don't!" she hissed at him.

But his eyes stood determined.

"You would die before your stroke fell!" Legolas said sharply.

Mÿne watched at Aragorn who pushed down Legolas' arm, warning him. He turned back to the leader.

"I'm Aragorn, son of Arathorn. My pupil Mÿne." he said, as he gestured at her, "This is Gimli, son of Glóin and Legolas of the Woodland realm." Legolas and Gimli could only glare at the leader. And he glared back.

"We're friends of Rohan and of Théoden, your King." Aragorn said last.

The leader sighed and removed his beautiful helmet, revealing his handsome face. It was framed by long hair that blew in the wind. His expression was dark yet less hostile than it had been.

"Théoden no longer recognises friend from foe." he said, looking at them with new interest. "Not even his own kin."

Mÿne was taken aback. So this leader was family of the King. Well, he looked royal... but that was about it actually. The leader gestured to his men and they removed the spears from their faces. Mÿne felt like she could breath better now. She eyed Legolas, who seemed pleased too. Gimli was still glaring. It was a Dwarf-thing, Mÿne had decided.

The leader of the horsemen continued: "Saruman has poisoned the mind of the King and claimed Lordship over these lands. My company is loyal to Rohan. And for that, we are banished."

In Mÿne's head the pieces started to fit. That's why it was that quiet. No Riders, no horses at all. That's what gave her the chills. It may not have been Black Riders, but Saruman claiming Lordship over Rohan was not good either. It only made their problem even bigger.

"The White Wizard is cunning." the leader said, eyeing the all individually. "He walks here and there, they say, as an old man, hooded and cloaked." his gaze turned to Legolas.

"And everywhere his spies slip past our nets."

Wait. So he thought Legolas, or maybe even ALL of them were spies of Saruman? Mÿne felt insulted.

"We are no spies!" Aragorn said. "We're tracking a group of Uruk-hai westward across the plains. They have taken two of our friends captive."

The leader shook his head. "The Uruks are destroyed. We slaughtered them during the night."

Mÿne's eyes flew open.

"What about the Hobbits?" she blurted out. "Two Hobbits, about this tall?" she asked as she held her hand just above her waiste. Her voice trembled of excitement and fear.

The man looked at her strangely. A mixture of confusion and sadness.

"They would be small, only children in your eyes." Aragorn added quickly.

The man thought for a moment, then he shook his head again.

"We left none alive."

Mÿne felt her heart sink again. None alive? But the Hobbits were not unnoticeable. How could they have not seen them?

"You must've missed them! Maybe they slipped away, maybe you have not seen them!" Mÿne tried again, sounding desperate now.

"We piled the carcasses and burned them." the man said, ignoring her. He pointed at the distance behind them. When Mÿne squinted her eyes she could make out light grey smoke.

"Burned them?" she whispered.

The thought of her two friends on a pile with Uruks filled her head: spears stuck out of their little chests, their mouths open of surprise, ready for a scream that would never come. Their eyes big, staring into nothingness. Flames licked on their small bodies as they crumbled into ashes, to never be seen again.

Mÿne averted her eyes to the grassy ground at her feet. First Boromir, now this. They had failed. They had been too slow. Her head weighed heavy on her shoulder. She was forced to pull her attention back to the group when the man whisteled.

"Hasufel. Arod!"

Two horses made their way to them. One white, one brown. They were still even geared up. They neighed softly, responding to the leader's whistle.

"May these horses bear you better fortune than their former masters." he said, nodding at them as he gave them their reigns. He placed his beautiful helmet back on his head and climbed his horse.

"Look for your friends, but do not trust the hope. It has forsaken these lands." and the group of riders rode away after the man had given them a command.

When they were out of sight the group looked at each other.

"Come." Aragorn said as he took the reigns of the brown horse. Mÿne felt resent in her heart.

"I don't want to see it." she said, sounding miserable. She hated herself for doing that.

"We don't know if it's true, Mÿne. We have to see it, or I cannot believe it. I will not." Aragorn said, he put his hand on her shoulder.

Mÿne sighed deeply and walked over to the white horse. She stroke its nose. Aragorn was right with that. But Mÿne couldn't bring herself to do it. To actually seek in the pile of filthy Uruks to see the dead faces of her friends.

"If you do not want to look, we will not force you. But we have to go there." a voice said next to her.

She turned around and looked in Legolas' face. In front of her Aragorn was busy trying to get Gimli up the brown horse.

"I suppose you're right. But still, my heart feels heavy. I do not think it can bear more death than it already does." she answered.

"Gandalf's death was painful. For all of us." Legolas said. "And I see what Boromir's death does to you. You toss and turn in your sleep. You tremble when someone speaks his name. Losing someone you travel with, you share stories with, whom you share laughter and joy with is always difficult. But as long as I have not seen the bodies of Merry and Pippin, I will not believe it. We have to see it with our own eyes. Do not lose hope, Mÿne. There is some chance that horsemaster was right, but there is also a chance that you are right. Maybe he has not seen them. He did not look like he had seen them, did he?"

Mÿne thought about it for a second. "Maybe one of his men has brought them to death. You do not know that." she mumbled.

"Maybe. Maybe not." Legolas gave her a tight squeeze on her shoulder before taking the reigns from her.

"Will you ride with me?" he asked as he climbed on the horse.


And so they travelled to the great plume of white smoke. The closer they got, the nervous Mÿne started to feel. Her heart cried out to her friends, but at the same time Mÿne knew that it could not be. They could not have survived that night. They were too small and fragile with no defence.

It was kind of that leader to give them his spare horses, but it would not make up for the death of their friends. Mÿne thought about Legolas words. It was true she slept badly, and even thinking of Boromir gave her shudders. Had it been that obvious?

It made her realize another thing. Legolas had been watching her when she was sleeping. It was not really a surprise, since he had the most watches during the night, but still, Mÿne thought it strange.

They came too soon to the still burning pile of Uruks. The smell greeted them when they got off their horses. The place reeked of burned flesh, blood, sweat and dead things. Mÿne covered her mouth while she approached the pile. She'd decided to search the area around the pile anyway, even though she really didn't wanted to, but Legolas' words had given her a small spark of hope. It was quickly put out though when Gimli found one of the Hobbits' belts. It was charred, but obvious an elven-belt.

"One of their little belts..." he mumbled while he showed them the black leather.

Mÿne's eyes grew big. So it was true then. They had perished. Slaughtered by the men some would say they were her own people.

Next to her Legolas bowed his head as he mumbled a little prayer for them. Aragorn kicked an orc helmet away, shouting outraged. For Mÿne it went all to fast. Before she knew it she had fallen on her knees, staring at the pile. Tears came up and she bowed her head too, neglecting to show them to her friends. Even the dead ones.

"We've failed them." Gimli sighed, leaning on his axe.

Though she'd rather not say it herself, that was exactly how she felt. She had failed her friends two times now. She covered her face and sobbed softly. A hand caressed her back as she sat down in the bloody grass. She leaned to Legolas shoulder and cried silently.