Meetings anew

Indeed it was Éomer and his men who came closer, now as Boromir could see the group slightly better. Three of the saddles were empty, hinting that some of the men must have lost their lives in battle, but no sight of Merry and Pippin.

"What do you know of these horsemen, Aragorn?" Gimli asked in an uneasy voice, for all of that Boromir showed no worry, "Do we sit here waiting for sudden death?"

"I have been among them in my younger years," answered Aragorn, recalling his time in the service of the late King Thengel, "They are proud and wilful, but they are true-hearted, generous in thought and deed; bold but not cruel; wise but unlearned, writing no books but singing many songs, after the manner of the children of Men before the Dark Years. But I do not know what has happened here of late outside what Boromir has told us, nor in what mind the Rohirrim may now be between the traitor Saruman and the threat of Sauron. They have long been the friends of the people of Gondor, though they are not akin to them. It was in forgotten years long ago that Eorl the Young brought them out of the North, and their kinship is rather with the Bardings of Dale, and with the Beornings of the Wood, among whom may still be seen many men tall and fair, as are the Riders of Rohan. At least they will not love the Orcs."

Now the cries of clear strong voices came ringing over the fields. Suddenly they swept up with a noise like thunder, and the foremost horseman swerved, passing by the foot of the hill, and leading the host back southward along the western skirts of the downs. After him they rode: a long line of mail-clad men, swift, shining, fell and fair to look upon.

Their horses were of great stature, strong and clean-limbed; their grey coats glistened, their long tails flowed in the wind, their manes were braided on their proud necks. The Men that rode them matched them well: tall and long-limbed; their hair, flaxen-pale, flowed under their light helms, and streamed in long braids behind them; their faces were stern and keen. In their hands were tall spears of ash, painted shields were slung at their backs, long swords were at their belts, their burnished skirts of mail hung down upon their knees.

"Edoras! Towards Edoras and the Golden Hall of Meduseld!"

In pairs they galloped by, and though every now and then one rose in his stirrups and gazed ahead and to either side, they appeared not to perceive the four strangers sitting silently and watching them. The host had almost passed when Boromir stood up, and called in a loud voice:

"Riders of Rohan! What news from the alliance of the Sun Princess and the Heir of Eorl the Young?"

With astonishing speed and skill the Rohirrim checked their steeds, wheeled, and came charging round at hearing the voice calling out in their own language. Soon the four companions found themselves in a ring of horsemen moving in a running circle, up the hill-slope behind them and down, round and round them, and drawing ever inwards. Both Boromir and Aragorn stood silent, and the other two sat without moving, wondering what way things would turn. Yet the sign of Boromir seemed to make the riders less likely to be threatening, even if they still were ready with arrows on their bows and spears.

"As welcomed as your return back south is, Boromir, son of Gondor, it is not good things that have happened while you were gone. Saruman has tried to attack Rohan in order to prevent us from helping Gondor against Mordor, and on behalf of my cousin, the Queen consort has given orders to evaluate as many of the common people as possible."

On behalf of my cousin. Boromir felt alarmed by how Éomer spoke. Had something happened to Théodred while he was gone, given the mention of Saruman? Was his good friend alright, or was it far more serious?

"Yet unusual comrades you bring with you back south. A Dúnedain, if the similar look to Queen Mother Morwen Steelsheen and her family is anything to base upon, an Elf and a Dwarf."

Ah, of course it would be hard to ignore that Legolas and Gimli were not exactly fellow Men, unless you were blind in the eyes.

"Legolas of the Woodland Realm in distant Mirkwood, and Gimli, son of Gloin from the Dwarven Kingdom of Erebor. They were sent as emissaries from their respective homes, and joined me and the Ranger Strider here on a mission south."

Aragorn naturally noticed that Boromir used the nickname he had as a Ranger, and guessed that the other Man did so because the Rider of Rohan impossibly could have been alive when he served King Thengel, but there was something about his height and manners that revealed some form of kinship to the late King and his Gondorian wife.

"Éomer son of Éomund, Third Marshal of Riddermark, lead me to Edoras, for it seems like I have much to be told about while I have been gone, but my comrades have a different mission that I can not take part of and also being in Edoras. Four days ago two of our other comrades were captured by the orcs which you and your man must have slain, and we wish to know if they managed to escape with their lives before you arrived to do the duty of protecting Rohan."

The Third Marshal looked a little alarmed all suddenly.

"That may be something of a problem," he admitted to Boromir, switching to the Common Speech of the West for the sake of the strangers, "the Orcs are destroyed, yet we did search the area to make sure that none escaped and found none other bodies than those of orc-kind."

The four hunters gave each other a side-glare, hoping that this meant that the two captured hobbits had managed to escape.

"They would be small. Only children to your eyes, unshod but clad in grey," Aragorn spoke up.

"There were no dwarves nor children," said Éomer, "we counted all the slain and despoiled them, and then we piled the carcasses and burned them, as is our custom with the creatures of evil. The ashes are smoking still."

"We do not speak of dwarves or children. Our friends were hobbits," Gimli said, a hand on his axe despite being mindful to not seem like he was about to attack the blonde Man. After all, it would not be a good impression and he refused to shame Erebor with his actions.

"Hobbits?" repeated Éomer with a confused look, "And what may they be? It is a strange name."

"A strange name for a strange folk, aye. But these were very dear to us. Recalling those words in the dream that troubled both me and Faramir right before the attack on Osgiliath and was the reason behind my journey north? They spoke of the Halfling. These hobbits are Halflings, and what they call themselves in their home far north," Boromir hurried to explain, which seemed to help the husband of his younger cousin somewhat.

"Halflings!" laughed the Rider that stood beside Éomer. "Halflings! But they are only a little people in old songs and children's tales out of the North. Do we walk in legends or on the green earth in the daylight?"

"A man may do both," said Aragorn, "For not we but those who come after will make the legends of our time. The green earth, say you? That is a mighty matter of legend, though you tread it under the light of day!"

"Time is pressing," muttered the Rider, not heeding Aragorn and turned to the Marshal, "We must hasten south, lord. Let us leave these wild folk to their fancies. Or let us bind them and take them to the King and Queen."

"Peace, Eothain!" said Éomer in his own tongue, "Leave me a while. Tell the Éored to assemble on the path, and make ready to ride to the Entwade. Lord Boromir asked to be guided to Edoras, and that we shall do after this talk."

Muttering Eothain retired, and spoke to the others. Soon they drew off and left Éomer alone with the four companions.

~X~X~X~X~X~X

In the Old Palace of Sunspear, Arianne had left her chamber for a quick look on how things were going with gathering food for the Dunharrow refugees, which they would help through the portal. She took little Ramses with her, for despite that her son was only five days old, she knew that the people of Sunspear needed to see him as a sign that nothing wrong had happened to either the Ruling Princess or her little heir.

"Good, this amount of food is a great start. It is impossible to say when the war will be over, and we can not say for sure if the harvest of Rohan this year will be successful without the farmers tending to their fields," she said as she watched the city people come with baskets filled with food and other basic necessities such as woven fabrics for clothing and tents.

"Ari! I am trying to help with the food here," Mahaad spoke to his 13 years older sister when he saw her coming, carrying a wicker basket with fruits in his arms, showing that Mellario likely had told her youngest child to help so he did not feel like he was useless for being so young.

"Yes. You have strong legs and can run errands back and forth if needed, sweet little brother."

Mahaad made a face and quickly backed a few steps when Arianne pretended to try kissing his forehead.

"Do that with Daemon or Ramses instead!"

It was not that Mahaad disliked being given such signs of affection from his mother, he simply wanted to prove himself a big boy at the moment and not the baby of the main Martell line anymore. Of course, Arianne had to smile at her youngest brother for his reaction.

"Oh, I will do that when I find my husband somewhere here."

In one of the courtyards, Obara and Nymeria were overlooking the preparation of food that could not be served raw for eating. Such as baking bread and letting the sun and sea winds dry freshly caught fish hanging from several wires across the yard before preserving it in salt.

"Your family seems to have a talent for helping out with hunting seabirds, Lord Selim," Obara commented when spotting someone among all the common workers that was busy with the amount of seabirds caught this morning. When hearing that Arianne planned to help Rohan with food, the former Sultan of Rûm had offered to help out in whatever they could do. As revealed over the past days, being locked up in the palace for most of their lives, with no chances to leave and explore the world outside the palace, had led to Selim, his concubines, his daughters and his younger sons developing many methods to avoid boredom in their everyday life since most days was the same and one of these was competitions in being able to use the slingshot for hitting moving targets at a long distance.

"We have to start showing ourselves useful in times like this since House Martell and Suleiman freed us, after being locked up like songbirds in a cage, my lord. And why not use what we once trained on? Besides, this is a good time to learn what we once were denied to do, because those skills could give us the ability to survive outside the palace that was our bird cage."

Dressed in simple clothing borrowed from the guards in the Old Palace, Selim himself showed no disgust to help pull feathers from the dead seabirds, take out the entrails and everything else needed to be done before the birds could be cooked for food.

"Right, those seabirds are to be cut up in smaller pieces before being cooked and then laid in those larger pots to make stews and soup with other ingredients. If we can spare as much as possible of the cattle, domestic birds, goats and sheep that Rohan needs to survive, then they can afford to use more of the pigs for food because the sows have their offspring after little over three months of pregnancy and even young piglets can be emergency supplies," Nymeria said as she checked on the list on what to do next for the two oldest Sand Snakes. Selim and his family did not need to worry about being served pork at meals against their birth religion since pigs were not common here in Dorne because of the hot climate, and had never been much of their cultural cuisine anyway.

Even Doran and Mellario had found a way to help out, even if it was now Arianne who ruled Dorne. With all four of their children and son-in-law being down with the servants, they checked over letters and other written information that had arrived over the past days.

"Have we sent out all the ravens to summon the soldiers that Dorne can afford to send out in battle without leaving the realm unprotected?"

"Yes, all the noble families and landed knights have answered. Soon our army will gather here in Sunspear and arrive in Rohan through the portal," Doran said after looking over the last letter and finishing a list for Arianne to have a look at when she came up to place Ramses back in the cradle inside the nursery.

~X~X~X~X~X~X

Boromir had joined with the Éored on their way towards the capital of Rohan, while the others had managed to borrow two horses named Arod and Hasufel, whose riders had fallen in battle yesterday when night had covered the Rohirrim.

"Is this really wise, Aragorn To spit up like this?" Gimli wondered where he was sitting behind Legolas and tried his best to not fall off by holding his arms around the Elf, for the famed horses of Rohan were much bigger and taller than the mountain ponies normally used by the Dwarves of Erebor on travels. Since their leader was focused on the trail they now followed, Legolas responded:

"I think it is better to let Boromir travel to the capital first, since he is known there, and we can join up later when we know better about the fate of Merry and Pippin."

Before long they came to the borders of the Entwash, and there they met the other trail of which Éomer had spoken, coming down from the East out of the Wold. Aragorn dismounted and surveyed the ground, then leaping back into the saddle, he rode away for some distance eastward, keeping to one side and taking care not to override the footprints. Then he again dismounted and examined the ground, going backwards and forwards on foot.

"There is little to discover," he said in mild frustration when he returned, "The main trail is all confused with the passage of the horsemen as they came back; their outward course must have lain nearer the river. But this eastward trail is fresh and clear. There is no sign there of any feet going the other way, back towards Anduin. Now we must ride slower, and make sure that no trace or footstep branches off on either side. The Orcs must have been aware from this point that they were pursued; they may have made some attempt to get their captives away before they were overtaken."

As they rode forward the day was overcast. Low grey clouds came over the Wold. A mist shrouded the sun. Ever nearer the tree-clad slopes of Fangorn loomed, slowly darkling as the sun went west. They saw no sign of any trail to right or left, but here and there they passed single Orcs, fallen in their tracks as they ran, with grey-feathered arrows sticking in their back or throat.

At last as the afternoon was waning they came to the eaves of the forest, and in an open glade among the first trees they found the place of the great burning: the ashes were still hot and smoking. Beside it was a great pile of helms and mail, cloven shields, and broken swords, bows and darts and other gear of war. Upon a stake in the middle was set a great goblin head; upon its shattered helm the white badge could still be seen. Further away, not far from the river, where it came streaming out from the edge of the wood, there was a mound. It was newly raised: the raw earth was covered with fresh-cut turves: about it were planted fifteen spears. The burial mound of the fifteen Riders of Rohan and twelve horses that Éomer had lost in the battle two days ago.

"They died to defend their homeland, and shall be remembered by the living relatives they left behind."

Aragorn and his companions searched far and wide about the field of battle, but the light faded, and evening soon drew down, dim and misty. By nightfall they had discovered no trace of Merry and Pippin.

"We can do no more," said Gimli sadly when they gathered together again, "'We have been set many riddles since we came to Tol Brandir, but this is the hardest to unravel. I would guess that the burned bones of the hobbits are now mingled with the Orcs'. It will be hard news for Frodo, if he lives to hear it; and hard too for the old hobbit who waits in Rivendell. Elrond was against their coming."

"But Gandalf was not," said Legolas when remembering that the Grey Wizard had thought that all four of the hobbits had a role in play.

"But Gandalf chose to come himself, and he was the first to be lost. 'His foresight failed him," Gimli reminded the Elf, and for a gloomy moment, they felt like they were back in Moria.

"The counsel of Gandalf was not founded on foreknowledge of safety, for himself or for others. There are some things that it is better to begin than to refuse, even though the end may be dark," Aragorn spoke, looking around again in case there was something they had missed, "but I shall not depart from this place yet. In any case we must here await the morning-light. Boromir is in safe hands with his Rohirric friends, so no need to fear for him at least ..."

But then Aragorn got silent, and when Legolas and Gimli followed his eyes into the border of Fangorn, a small ghostly figure could be seen in the shadows between the trees. A girl, not that old, but there was something about her grey eyes that seemed oddly familiar to the Third Marshal of the Riddermark, despite that her dark brown hair and skin colour hinted to a lineage further south.

"I am happy that Papa did not fall in the battle. Mama would be very sad to be a widow after less than a year of marriage."

Then she vanished like morning mist, but none of them had sensed any ill will from the spirit.

"I suppose that one of the Riders with Boromir is about to be a father soon? Perhaps the unborn little lass sensed her mother worrying for her husband and tried to have a personal check despite not being able to tell that her sire is fine," Gimli managed to say in a slight wonder over what they just had seen. Aragorn and Legolas nodded, feeling that may be the best way of explaining the spirit.

~X~X~X~X~X~X

While the two Men, Elf and Dwarf could not have known that detail the previous day as they kept following the trail, Merry and Pippin were fine. They had managed to escape the Orcs and Uruk-hai just before the Éored led by Éomer had attacked, and somehow found themselves in the care of Treebeard, one of the most ancient Ents left in Middle-earth and brought to his home overnight.

They woke in the bed of soft grass and moss to find a cool sun shining into the great court, and on to the floor of the bay. Shreds of high cloud were overhead, running on a stiff easterly wind. Treebeard was not to be seen; but while Merry and Pippin were bathing in the basin by the arch, they heard him humming and singing, as he came up the path between the trees.

"Hoo, ho! Good morning, Merry and Pippin!" he boomed, when he saw them, "You sleep long. I have made a hundred strides already today. Now we will have a drink, and go to Entmoot."

He poured them out two full bowls from a stone jar; but from a different jar. The taste was not the same as it had been the night before: it was earthier and richer, more sustaining and food-like, so to speak. While the hobbits drank, sitting on the edge of the bed, and nibbling small pieces of elf-cake (more because they felt that eating was a necessary part of breakfast than because they felt hungry), Treebeard stood, humming in Entish or Elvish or some strange tongue, and looking up at the sky.

"Where is Entmoot?" Pippin ventured to ask.

"Hoo, eh? Entmoot?" said Treebeard, turning round to face his unusual guests, "It is not a place, it is a gathering of Ents which does not often happen nowadays. But I have managed to make a fair number of promises to come. We shall meet in the place where we have always met: Derndingle Men call it. It is away south from here. We must be there before noon."

On the way to the Entmoot, the same small spirit that Aragorn, Legolas and Gimli would see as well, passed over the area when Treebeard carried the hobbits there in his arms.

"No worries, young ones. The spirits of the young Men living in those lands sometimes show up here in Fangorn. Sometimes I see them as grown-up members of their land, so I think that little one may soon enter the world from her mother."

The Ent was not all wrong, for it was the unborn child of Éomer and Lothíriel who tried to make Éomer come home before the birth. The sort of spiritual restlessness that could often happen to the soul of a child yet to be born, in the remaining days before the birth.

~X~X~X~X~X~X

Author note: Boromir did not mention Aragorn as the royal heir to Gondor because he still is no sure on how Denethor would react to those news, and he also want to not shock people with the reveal that there is a heir to the royal crown

I headcanon that the East of Middle-earth is somewhat akin to Islamic cultures in RL, and that pork is one of those taboo foods there as a result. Also, think of how Dorne is the hottest area of Westeros, pigs would never survive the dry climate because they require water and shady woods with seeds