Okay, I think I got this right. I was just about to post this and started watching Return of the King and began to question myself if I had the timeline correct. There are several things all happening at the same time and at times I wonder if I'm seeing something in chronological order or if the movies are skipping days around, like we're watching Aragorn on a Tuesday and then we see Frodo and Sam on a Thursday only to be brought back to Aragorn and it's Wednesday – you get what I mean? The timeline I originally found and have been using as a reference point is based on the books, not the movies. It's a bit more difficult since I saved Boromir and Théodred, more the former than the latter, but I think I got it. I'll have to go back through my own notes and adjust my time line. But enough talk out of me. I'll see you at the end of this chapter.
The once beautiful Isengard was now covered in industrial mechanics. Orcs worked nonstop on the blackened ground. It was twilight when Wormtongue stood in the Orthanc with Saruman.
Saruman was pacing the chamber, mulling over his loss to Gandalf. "Gandalf the White. Gandalf the Fool! Does he seek to humble me his newfound piety?"
"There were three who followed the wizard," Wormtongue informed him, coming closer. "An Elf, a Dwarf, and a Man."
"You stink of horse," Saruman stated in disgust.
Wormtongue shrank back and began to walk away.
"The Man," Saruman said, turning to Wormtongue. "Was he from Gondor?"
"No, from the North," replied Wormtongue. "One of the Dúnedain Rangers, I thought he was. His cloth was poor. And yet he bore a strange ring. Two serpents with emerald eyes. One devouring, the other crowned with golden flowers."
Saruman went into the adjoining room and took a book off a shelf. He opened and searched for a certain page. He found a picture of the ring Wormtongue saw.
"The Ring of Barahir," Saruman said. "So Gandalf Greyhame thinks he has found Isildur's heir. The lost king of Gondor. He is a fool. The line was broken years ago."
He closed the book. "It matters not. The world of Men shall fall. It will begin at Edoras."
Wormtongue spoke up once more. "There was also a boy."
Saruman whipped around. "A boy?"
"A very strange boy," Wormtongue continued. "He did not arrive with Gandalf and the others, but he knew them. He attacked me." He held up his roughly bandaged hand. "He wore Elvish and foreign cloth and spoke with a strange accent."
Saruman recognized Wormtongue's description as the boy he found in Fangorn Forest. "So the boy survived Moria and escaped to Edoras."
"Théoden will not stay at Edoras," Wormtongue told Saruman. "It's vulnerable. He knows this. He will expect an attack on the city. They will flee to Helm's Deep, the great fortress of Rohan. It is a dangerous road to take through the mountains. They will be slow. They will have women and children with them."
Saruman's eye brows rose. This was an opportunity they could not miss.
"Ricky."
Ricky jolted awake, pulling his straight razor from under his pillow. He looked at the open door and saw Aragorn standing in the doorway. It took Ricky a moment to remember he was in a small bedroom usually reserved for a visitor's servants. Aragorn had asked Théoden for the room for Ricky so the boy could sleep in a proper bed without being disturbed by another person.
"We will be leaving soon," Aragorn said.
"Okay," Ricky mumbled sleepily.
Aragorn nodded and left, pulling the door partway closed.
Ricky rolled out of bed, the long shirt given to him to sleep in getting tangled around his legs. He found his Altoids tin and fumbled for the lighter inside. He lit the candles next to the bed.
He reached up and found his hair was still wet in its braids from last night's bath. His clothes had been rinsed out as well to try to get the smell of Orc off them. Ricky pushed the door the rest of the way shut before he started getting changed.
Ricky dressed and left his room. Out of habit, he skulked around the halls in the shadows. Many of the doors were open to let light in and people were doing last minute packing before they left.
"I am ready, Gamling," Ricky heard Théoden announce.
He stopped and pressed himself up next to the doorway.
"This is not a defeat," Théoden went on. "We will return."
Gamling walked out and passed Ricky without noticing him.
Ricky poked his head around the doorway. Théoden was standing in the middle of the room already dressed for travel.
"We will return," Théoden told himself.
The corner of Ricky's mouth turned up before he walked away to find the others. What he found in the main hall was Aragorn and Éowyn, the latter sheathing her sword and putting it in a chest.
"Women of this country learned long ago: those without swords may still die upon them. I fear neither death nor pain," said Éowyn.
"What do you fear, my lady?" Aragorn asked.
She turned, her face grave. "A cage."
Ricky wouldn't hold that against her. How many times had he been stuck in a cage? Not a literal one, well, maybe once, but that wasn't for long. But a metaphorical one? He had lived in those all throughout foster care, wishing his next prison was nicer.
"To stay behind bars until use and old age accept them. And all chance of valor has gone beyond recall or desire."
Aragorn shook his head in wonder. "You're a daughter of kings, a shieldmaiden of Rohan. I do not think that will be your fate."
Éowyn looked at him with hope.
Aragorn bowed his head to her and walked away.
When Éowyn went back to her packing again, she saw Ricky watching her.
"That sword belongs somewhere you can grab it easily," Ricky said. "It's useless where it is."
Éowyn's eyes widened.
"'A woman must not rely on the protection of man, but must be taught to protect herself,'" said Ricky. He turned and left Éowyn to finish packing.
Outside, he found a wagon hitched up to a horse filled with loose straw. Théodred lay in the wagon on top of several blankets. Some men were throwing a blanket over the top to create some shade.
Ricky sensed someone behind him. Turning, he found Legolas.
"I wish to return these to you." Legolas held out Ricky's daggers.
Ricky took the daggers and put them in their sheathes at his waist. "Thanks, Legolas. I thought I was back to usin' a straight razor," he said with a grin.
Legolas offered Ricky a soft smile of his own. It was so rare to see the boy smile.
The lessons that Ricky gave him echoed in Frodo's head. He had made the judgement call to trust Gollum even after he had attacked him and Sam in the night trying to steal the Ring. So far it seemed like trusting him was a good idea. Gollum had successfully led them to the Black Gate just as Frodo asked. However they couldn't make it through, almost being caught when they had tried. Gollum then told them there was another way. When Sam demanded why he hadn't told them before, Gollum had replied that Frodo hadn't asked him for another way. Frodo realized that Gollum could be tricky, choosing not to tell them something just because Frodo didn't ask him specifically. The other thing that Frodo realized was that Gollum had another name and was once a Hobbit himself by the name of Sméagol.
While Frodo trusted Gollum, Sam did not. He had wanted to tie up Gollum and leave him behind. He didn't trust Gollum and always looked for an excuse to point it out, telling Frodo it was a mistake to follow him. Sam was cruel to him where Frodo was kind.
Currently, the twisted creature that was Gollum was splashing down a stream trying to catch a fish.
"Hey, stinker!" shouted Sam to him. "Don't go getting too far ahead!"
"Why do you do that?" Frodo asked.
Sam stopped and turned to Frodo. "What?"
"Call him names. Run him down all the time."
"Because." It was not Sam's best answer. "Because that's what he is, Mr. Frodo. There's naught left in him but lies and deceit. It's the Ring he wants. It's all he cares about."
"You have no idea what it did to him," Frodo snapped angrily. "What it's still doing to him." He pushed passed Sam and stopped. "I want to help him, Sam."
"Why?" Sam asked.
Gollum looked around for the fish he was chasing and realized it was lost. He looked up at Frodo and smiled.
Frodo had to look away. "Because I have to believe he can come back."
"You can't save him, Mr. Frodo," Sam told him.
Frodo spun around. "What do you know about it? Nothing!"
Sam was taken aback. He walked passed Frodo.
"I'm sorry, Sam," Frodo apologized. "I don't know why I said that."
Sam turned back to his friend. "I do," he replied gently. "It's the Ring. You can't take your eyes off it! I've seen you. You're not eating. You barely sleep. It's taken hold of you, Mr. Frodo. You have to fight it."
Frodo's eyes flashed. "I know what I have to do, Sam. The Ring was entrusted to me. It's my task. Mine! My own!" He stormed off.
Sam stood where he was in shock. "Can't you hear yourself? Don't you know who you sound like?"
Frodo didn't respond.
That night, Frodo slept with the Ring in his hand.
His dreams kept him from resting. It was all darkness and fire.
"Frodo."
Frodo searched the abyss for the person who spoke.
"You're forgettin', Frodo. You gotta remember why you're doin' this."
Frodo continued looking around. There was no one there, only the voice.
The voice sighed. "What is the Ring?"
Frodo blinked in confusion.
"What is the Ring?" yelled the voice.
"The Ring is evil!"
The words were out of Frodo's mouth before he had another chance to think about the question.
"What are you?"
"I am good."
"What do you carry?"
"Love and hope," Frodo answered.
"Where?"
"In my heart."
"What does the Ring carry?"
"Empty promises."
"What do you carry?"
"Love and hope," Frodo answered again.
"Where?" The voice was growing louder again.
"In my heart."
"Where?" shouted the voice.
"In my heart!" Frodo shouted back.
And in a more acceptable volume, the voice added, "And don't you forget it."
The voice seemed to disappear.
A name appeared in Frodo's mind to go with the voice. "Ricky! Ricky, come back!"
The next afternoon, Frodo was resting against a rock. Not far away was Sam looking into the distance. Frodo was suddenly startled when something was dumped into his lap.
"Look! Look! See what Sméagol finds?" Gollum said. He started jumping around proudly at his catch.
Frodo looked down at the two dead coneys in his lap. He smiled at Gollum and then looked over at Sam. Sam was not amused.
Gollum picked up one of the coneys. "They are young." He snapped the coney's back.
Frodo cringed in disgust at the display.
"They are tender," Gollum went on. "They are nice. Yes, they are. Eat them. Eat them!"
Sam walked over to Gollum while Gollum bit into the coney he was holding and started ripping it apart.
"You'll make him sick, you will, behaving like that!" Sam snapped at Gollum. He took the rabbit from Gollum and shoved him aside. "There's only one way to eat a brace of coneys."
A few minutes later, Sam had a pot of stew simmering over a fire.
Gollum was screaming, horrified. He looked into the pot as Sam added in some herbs to the coney stew being prepared. "What's he doing? Stupid, fat Hobbit. It ruins it!"
Frodo, who had been helping Sam for the moment, went back to his pack to get something.
Offended, Sam asked, "What's to ruin? There's hardly any meat on them."
Frodo heard a faint birdcall. It was a warbling sound that seemed out of place. There was an answering call over his shoulder. He looked around for the source.
"What we need is a few good taters," Sam went on.
Gollum spun around to Sam with a worried expression. "What's taters, precious? What's taters? Eh?"
"Po-ta-toes," Sam impatiently said. "Boil them, mash them, stick them in a stew. Lovely big golden chips with a nice piece of fried fish."
Gollum blew a raspberry.
Sam looked at him. "Even you couldn't say no to that."
"Oh yes, we could," argued Gollum. "Spoil a nice fish." He scrambled up to Sam. "Give it to us raw and wriggling. You keep nasty chips."
Sam tasted the stew and Gollum hopped away. With a shake of his head, Sam said, "You're hopeless."
In the meantime, Frodo had wandered off to find the source of the birdcall.
"Mr. Frodo?" he heard Sam call.
Frodo ducked down and crawled through the brush to the edge of an overlook. Below him was an army marching. The men were dressed in armor, their heads and faces covered in black cloth. Behind him, Sam and Gollum came crawling up.
"Who are they?" Sam whispered.
"Wicked Men," answered Gollum. "Servants of Sauron. They are called to Mordor. The Dark One is gathering all armies to him. It won't be long now. He will soon be ready."
"Ready to do what?" asked Sam.
"To make his war," Gollum replied. "The last war that will cover all the world in Shadow."
"We've got to get moving," said Frodo. "Come on, Sam."
Frodo started to leave, but Sam grabbed his arm.
"Mr. Frodo. Look. It's an oliphaunt."
There was not one, but two great, four-legged animals. They were grey-skinned having flapping ears, a nose like a snake, tusks in their mouths, each standing taller than a house. On their backs were towers carrying more soldiers. They trumpeted as they walked, causing the earth to shake.
"No one at home will believe this," said Sam as they both gazed in wonder the enormous creatures.
The birdcall sounded again. All the three of them looked around warily. Gollum slipped away.
"Sméagol?" Frodo quietly called after him.
Pandemonium broke out below them. The army was being ambushed by archers hidden in the brush, Rangers with their cloaks concealing them from the enemy. The oliphaunts were startled, trumpeting and thrashing, tossing men from their backs. One of them charged towards Frodo and Sam, swinging its great head from side to side. One of the men still on the back of the oliphaunt was shot and fell with a yell, landing directly behind Frodo and Sam, dead on impact. The oliphaunt made a sharp turn and stomped off in another direction.
"We've lingered here too long," Frodo said quietly, looking at the body. He began to run away, but noticed Sam was still watching the battle. "Come on, Sam."
Frodo turned and ran directly into a Ranger. He was grabbed and struggled to get free. Sam let out a yell and drew his sword. As he charged, another Ranger knocked him to the ground. Frodo was picked up and tossed onto his back. Sam went to get back up, but found a sword at his neck. Frodo ran up to the Ranger pinning Sam and tried to push him away, but was shoved back and into the arms of the first Ranger. More Rangers appeared out of the trees.
"Wait!" Sam cried out. "We're innocent travelers!"
A Ranger stepped up to Frodo. This one bore a white tree across his chest and was holding a bow. His face could be seen under his hood. Grey eyes challenged Frodo.
"There are no travelers in this land. Only servants of the Dark Tower," said Faramir of Gondor. He moved to start leading his men.
"We are bound by an errand of secrecy," said Frodo steadily.
Faramir looked back at Frodo.
"Those that claim to oppose the enemy would do well not to hinder us," Frodo went on.
"The enemy?" Faramir went over to the fallen soldier, using his foot to roll the body over. Blood dribbled from the corpse's mouth. "His sense of duty was no less than yours, I deem. You wonder what his name is, where he came from. If he was really evil at heart. What lies or threats led him on this long march from home. If he would not rather have stayed there . . . in peace."
Faramir turned to Frodo. "War will make corpses of us all." To the Rangers, he said, "Bind their hands."
Frodo made one last attempt to break free but failed and Sam was yanked from the ground. They were stripped of their weapons and their hands were tied behind their backs. The Rangers then blindfolded them before they set off, wherever that was.
It was the second day on the road to Helm's Deep and Ricky was riding in the wagon with Théodred. He had been appointed to be Théodred's nurse as of last night. How that happened, Ricky wasn't exactly sure. He guessed it was because it didn't take much to wake him and if something happened to Théodred, Ricky would most likely hear him and be able to help until Aragorn got there.
Ricky shifted his position in the hay when the wagon hit a rut. He flopped into the hay, getting a mouthful and landing awkwardly on his arm.
"Shit," Ricky grumbled, spitting the hay out of his mouth. A moan next to him caught his attention. Ricky's head whipped around. "Théodred?"
"Where am I?" the wounded man asked weakly.
"Holy crap, you're awake." Ricky got to his feet and climbed up the front of the wagon. He whistled up to the front. "Ey! He's awake!"
Théoden and Aragorn turned their horses around to go to the wagon. Éowyn, who had been walking beside the horse carrying Gimli, stopped and waited for the wagon to catch up.
Ricky got out of the wagon to give them some space. He ended up walking beside a horse carrying Éothain and Freda, the children who had warned them about the Wild Men. Ricky gave them a nod to acknowledge that they were there.
"What is that?" Freda asked.
Ricky looked up at her. "What?"
Freda pointed to Ricky's goggles. "That. It's strange."
Éothain gave his sister a shake to get her to be quiet.
"Heh, you're not the first." Ricky tapped his goggles. "They're goggles. My day vision's awful. The tint in the lenses act as a filter. Light gets in, but not all light."
"Why is your day vision awful?" Freda pressed.
"Freda, be quiet," hissed Éothain.
Ricky glanced back at Éothain. "I grew up in a big city. During the day I would stay underground in the city's infrastructure. It wasn't pleasant. At night, I would come out if I needed to."
"Where were your parents? Are they dead?"
"Freda!" Éothain scolded her.
"I'm sorry," whimpered Freda.
"S'aight," Ricky said. "I don't know where my parents are. I grew up as a ward of the state. I like to think that they died when I was little. Then they would've wanted me. You two are lucky. I don't have a family."
"We do not know where Mama is," said Freda.
"No," said Ricky. "But you got each other. That counts for somethin'."
They stopped midday to rest and eat. Ricky sat next to Aragorn on a rock. Éowyn walked up to them, passing Gimli as she went and offering him some stew from the pot she carried. He quickly declined and kept walking.
Aragorn looked up at Éowyn when she came to stand in front of him.
"I made some stew," Éowyn told him. "It isn't much, but it's hot." She scooped some out using one of the bowls she was carrying in her other hand and gave it to Aragorn along with a spoon.
"Thank you," he said told her. "Can you spare some for Ricky? He has yet to eat."
Éowyn quickly scooped out another portion for Ricky with the other bowl she carried. Ricky accepted his bowl with a whisper and started to eat.
Aragorn took a bite of stew and froze, his face registering the distaste of what he believed to be a piece of meat. Next to him, Ricky was chewing his own food. He was watching Aragorn with a small smirk.
Aragorn looked up and saw Éowyn gazing at him. "It's good."
"Really?" Éowyn asked brightly.
She began to walk away. Aragorn started to pour the soup onto the ground. Before he could pour even half of it away, Éowyn spoke and turned around.
"My uncle told me a strange thing," she said.
Aragorn hastened to right the bowl and make it look like he was still eating. Some of the hot stew spilled on his hand. He winced a bit.
Éowyn walked back up to him. "He said that you rode to war with Thengel, my grandfather. But he must be mistaken."
"King Théoden has a good memory," said Aragorn. "He was only a small child at the time."
Éowyn knelt down in front of him, shocked. "Then you must be at least sixty."
Aragorn gave an uncomfortable chuckle and looked away.
"Seventy?" Éowyn guessed. When Aragorn didn't respond, she continued on. "You cannot be eighty!"
Aragorn calmly looked at her and smiled. "Eighty-seven."
Ricky choked on his food. "What?" he coughed.
Éowyn stood up, speechless for a moment. "You are one of the Dúnedain. A descendant of Númenor, blessed with long life. It was said that your race had passed into legend."
Aragorn nodded. "There are few of us left. The Northern Kingdom was destroyed a long time ago." He looked down sadly.
"I'm sorry," Éowyn said quietly, but smiled once more. "Please, eat."
She continued to stand by him, forcing Aragorn to eat the stew she had given him. Once he finished, Éowyn took the bowls from him and Ricky and left them.
"Eighty-seven?" Ricky said incredulously. "Damn, man! I know people who would kill to have your beauty secrets. Ya look great!"
"Thank you, Ricky." Aragorn grimaced and visibly fought to keep his meal in his stomach.
"Let me know when you're gonna puke," Ricky said with some amusement.
Aragorn looked at him. "How are you not ill from that?"
"This is what I got to eat," Ricky replied. "Beggars can't be choosers. And I've had worse."
Aragorn stared at Ricky like he was crazy.
"I have," Ricky insisted. "I've eaten curdled tomato soup that was way passed its expiration date before. Though her stew runs a close second."
Aragorn cared not to comment any more on Éowyn's cooking ability. "I would like you to ride with me until we stop for the night."
Ricky frowned. "Why?"
"We should have taught you how to ride a horse in Rivendell and Lothlórien," said Aragorn. "I do not know when we will get another chance to teach you."
"Yeah, that would've been nice to know when I jumped on the back of that horse," said Ricky. "I kinda figured it out as I went."
When they started to move again, Ricky sat in front of Aragorn and was showed how to hold the reins. Aragorn kept Hasufel at a walk so Ricky could get used to the motion. The most difficult thing was getting Ricky to relax. Aragorn had expected this as Ricky still did not like to be touched by another person. He had noticed that Ricky had been doing better. Touching his hands seemed to be all right, but touching him anywhere else, especially the torso or head, still caused him to flinch and twitch. They kept up the lesson until Théoden called for everyone to stop for the night.
While Ricky was on his way to Helm's Deep, Boromir was making a journey of his own. After spending a couple days at Henneth Annún, the healer said Boromir was strong enough to travel back to Minas Tirith for more treatment and rest. Boromir hadn't wanted to leave Faramir, but Faramir pointed out that Boromir was in no condition to fight. The brothers had said their goodbyes and Boromir left with the few Gondorian Rangers that could be spared.
Boromir travelled in the supply wagon as riding a horse was out of the question with his injuries. To be honest, he did not find the wagon much more comfortable as he felt it hit every bump and rut. However, it gave him time to try to rest.
He closed his eyes and went over what he was going to tell his father. Denethor would be angry with Boromir for letting the Ring go, but Boromir couldn't care any less. That cursed thing only brought despair. The Free People could not use it without being enslaved. Boromir prayed Frodo would be strong enough to bear the burden to Mordor.
Boromir had told Faramir everything as there were no secrets between the brothers. At the forefront of Boromir's mind were the Hobbits. They were innocent, young by Hobbit standards, just barely into their adulthood, though Boromir wondered about Pippin. They knew nothing of the world outside of the Shire and must have been so frightened to leave their homes. While Frodo and Sam were most likely walking to their deaths, Merry and Pippin caused Boromir the most worry. He had seen them being carried off by the Uruk-hai. At first he wondered why, but later guessed it was because they believed one of them had the Ring.
He went on to tell Faramir about Legolas Thranduilion, the Prince of Mirkwood. More than once his Elven eyes and ears alerted them to danger. His bow had served them well and Boromir was certain he owed his life to the Elf many times, especially in Moria.
Then there was the Dwarf, Gimli, and his relationship with Legolas. Both had gone from disliking each other to having a sense of camaraderie. While Legolas kept what he was feeling under a cool mask, Gimli wasn't afraid to voice his opinions. He was a fierce fighter with his axe and there was no opponent too great for him.
Boromir had watched Faramir's shocked expression as he told him of how Gandalf had fallen to the Balrog they encountered in Moria. It had been an even bigger shock when Boromir told him they had been travelling with the true heir of Gondor, a Ranger from the North named Aragorn, and how it was him who stepped up to lead after the events in Moria.
And then he told Faramir about Ricky. The boy was not of Middle Earth and therefore his views were very different. He was young, too young to be on the journey. At fifteen, the boy was surprisingly angry, but yet he could be gentle. He was bold to the point of being cruel, crude in his language, showed little respect for those above his station, always found a goal to work for, and helped those who needed it. As troubled as he was, and there was no denying he was troubled, he put himself second whether it involved food or aid.
Faramir had been almost as shocked as he had been when he learned of Gandalf's fate and Aragorn's identity when Boromir announced he wished for Ricky to stay with them when the journey was over. Clearly, even after all the fighting they had done in the beginning, Boromir had grown to love the boy dearly and wanted him as part of their family, not just a citizen of Gondor.
Boromir hoped Ricky was alive as he had seen him taken along with Merry and Pippin. Chances were he was. The boy was strong. He may have even found a way to escape with Merry and Pippin.
His mind went back to what he was going to tell his father. In addition to the Ring, he would have to broach the subject of offering Ricky a place in their family. It was going to be difficult. Faramir had thought the boy was a nuisance at first until Boromir told him how he took care of the Hobbits. Boromir was glad he spoke to Faramir first. He looked at it like a practice speech to his father.
Boromir turned his thoughts from telling his father about Ricky to picking out where Ricky was going to stay. There was an open room down the hall from their chambers. It was mostly used as a guest room if there weren't enough for some reason. Boromir remembered it had been a playroom for him and Faramir when they were little. The windows faced southwest and could be covered by heavy curtains if the light bothered Ricky too much. When Faramir was home, he could take Ricky down to the library and help him with his studies when the tutors became too uptight. Faramir had a love of books and could keep Ricky interested with stories he learned when he was a child. Boromir would teach him how to use a sword properly. And maybe Ricky could teach him and his men a few things about his style of fighting. His father would learn to like the boy. Yes, Ricky had little respect for the stations above his, but if he liked the person for who they were, there was really no problem. Boromir was certain Ricky would come to like Denethor. He was a good man and a good ruler.
"My lord." A Gondorian Ranger's voice woke Boromir, who had not realized that he had fallen asleep. It was morning now. "I brought you some food. We will be moving on shortly."
Boromir took the piece of hardtack he was offered. It was another thing he was looking forward to when they reached Minas Tirith: real food.
Aragorn had Ricky up on Hasufel by himself that morning. He walked next to the horse telling Ricky how to correct his posture.
Next to them, Éowyn walked her horse. "Where is she?"
Aragorn turned to her.
"The woman who gave you that jewel?" Éowyn asked.
Ricky knew what she was talking about. Aragorn had a necklace, a silver pendant with white stones, a beautiful work of art.
Aragorn didn't answer her for a long moment.
"My lord?" Éowyn asked.
"She is sailing to the Undying Lands," Aragorn said, pained, "with all that is left of her kin."
Éowyn quickly turned away, processing what he said.
Ricky glared down at Aragorn. "Hey."
Aragorn turned to Ricky.
"You'll see her again. She wouldn't leave you behind." The tone in Ricky's voice gave no room for Aragorn to argue with him.
Háma and Gamling rode through the crowd to scout ahead. Legolas was already ahead of them on foot, sharp Elven eyes keeping a lookout for danger.
Hasufel gave a start and jerked under Ricky. Aragorn quickly calmed the horse.
"Ricky, you need to relax," he told the teen. "You are too tense."
"Sorry. Tryin' to," Ricky responded.
"You will not fall," Aragorn assured.
"Have you never ridden a horse, Master Weiss?" asked Éowyn.
"Just the one that got me to Edoras," said Ricky. "That was my first time."
"Then how did you travel?" Éowyn inquired.
"Walked," Ricky bluntly replied.
Ahead of them they heard screaming. Aragorn passed Hasufel's reins to Éowyn and dashed off to the front. He stopped at the top of the ridge. Ricky heard a shout from Legolas, but he couldn't make out what he said, but judging by how Aragorn turned and came sprinting back, it wasn't good.
Théoden rode to the front. "What is it?" he called to Aragorn. "What do you see?"
"Warg!" Aragorn shouted. "We are under attack!"
The crowd began to scream and started to turn back.
"Get us frickin' killed, why don't ya!" Ricky snarled at the hysteric people. He swung himself off the horse so Aragorn could ride into battle.
"All riders to the head of the column!" Théoden ordered.
Men hurried to get to their horses. Ricky even saw Gimli getting up on Arod, determined to ride into battle.
Théoden rode over to Éowyn. "You must lead the people to Helm's Deep and make haste."
"I can fight!" Éowyn argued.
"No!" Théoden commanded.
Éowyn glared at him.
"You must do this," Théoden told her more gently. "For me."
Théoden turned and ordered his men to follow him.
Aragorn got up on Hasufel. "Go with Éowyn," he told Ricky before riding off.
Éowyn began to shout at the people. "Make for the lower ground! Stay together!"
Ricky jumped up on a rock and drew one dagger. "Quit screamin' and move!" he yelled.
Éowyn turned to him.
"The Wargs and Orcs are gonna hear you if you keep screamin' like you are!" Ricky shouted. "Won't matter what the soldiers do if the Orcs know where to find you!"
He jumped off the rock. "Panickin's not gonna help!" he added.
Ricky ran back to the wagon where Théodred was and climbed on top of his so he had a good vantage point to see what was coming and who needed help.
There were only a few who had horses that hadn't been ridden into battle. One horse was carrying Éothain and Freda. Ricky didn't like how far back they were.
"Keep up!" Ricky waved his hand to encourage them to pick up the pace. His eyes widened behind his goggles at what was coming over one of the hills. A Warg with an Orc was charging right at the horse and the children.
Freda let out a shriek when she saw the Warg and Orc coming for her and her brother. Her shriek caused everyone else to turn and once again start screaming, some scattering in panic. There were no riders to defend them as all had followed Théoden into battle.
Ricky jumped off the wagon and sprinted towards the two children. He wove through the crowd, pulling his other dagger as he ran. He flipped the dagger in his left hand around and aimed.
The Warg jumped to pounce on the horse. It yelped midair and crumpled to the ground, tossing its Orc rider into the dirt. As the Orc recovered, there was a mad yell and something hit it in the face without mercy. A second later its throat was slashed almost to the point of decapitation.
Ricky panted where he crouched over the Orc's body. Its blood was splashed across his chest and face. He got to his feet, wincing a little from the bruise forming on his knee. He walked over to the dead Warg and pulled his other dagger from its eye socket. He wiped off both daggers on the Warg's fur before sheathing them. Turning, he saw he was much farther from the crowd than he expected to be. He knew he had run as fast as he could to get to the Warg and Orc, but he hadn't believed he ran that far that quickly. Although judging by the throbbing in his knee, he hit the Orc with much more force than he anticipated.
For one so nimble, special boots are needed. Your feet will never tire as long as your spirit stays strong.
Galadriel's words echoed in Ricky's head.
He certainly had a strong will to save the children at that moment. Ricky wondered if the boots also made him faster to some degree. He could worry about it later and he ran off to catch up with the crowd.
People stared at Ricky as he rejoined them. Some had looked back at the sound of his yell and seen what he had done to the Warg and Orc. They whispered and murmured as he passed. Ricky made his way over to Éothain and Freda and walked with them.
Soon Helm's Deep was in sight. The fortress had been built into the mountains behind it. A long causeway led up to the gates and a wall branched off to its right side to join the rock of the mountains. People began breathing sighs of relief and cheering at the view.
"Keep goin'," Ricky told them. "We can still be attacked."
Éowyn heard him and turned around. She was startled at his appearance. Ricky had dark blood on streaked on his face, front, and hands.
"Are you injured?" she inquired.
"No," Ricky said. "Let's go."
They entered Helm's Deep. Ricky looked around to see all the people who were already there. Several thoughts when through his head. There were many women and children, none of which could fight. There were also the sick. Close quarters meant that communal sicknesses would spread. If the Uruk-hai didn't kill them first, disease would. It was like the homeless camps all over again.
Ricky watched Éothain and Freda find someone to take care of their horse. They then began looking through the crowds of people.
"Who are you lookin' for?" Ricky asked them.
"Our mama," Freda said.
"Let's go look for her," said Ricky.
They began searching for her. It was actually very simple to find the children's mother. They stayed with Ricky, who drew the attention of everyone with his strange clothes and goggles. It wasn't long before they found her and it was a happy reunion. Ricky didn't stick around and went back to find Éowyn. He found her helping to gather the food they brought with them.
"Where is the rest?" she called out.
"This is all we could save, my lady," said an old man.
There were only a dozen baskets and just as many sacks.
"Take it to the caves," said Éowyn.
Ricky hoped there would be more food in the caves. They would be lucky if they made it a week with what was in front of him.
"Make way for the king!" a faint yell sounded.
The men had arrived and Éowyn and Ricky ran to meet them. There were not nearly as many who had left to fight.
"So few," said Éowyn. "So few of you have returned."
Théoden dismounted. "Our people our safe. We've paid for it with many lives." He helped another man off his horse.
"My lady." Gimli approached with his helmet removed.
Éowyn and Ricky turned to him.
"Lord Aragorn, where is he?" asked Éowyn.
Ricky knew the answer immediately.
Gimli choked up. "He fell."
Éowyn's eyes widened and her mouth fell open. She turned to Théoden. He only turned away, confirming Gimli's story. Tears came to her eyes as shock set in.
"Where's the body?"
Gimli turned to Ricky, shock appearing on his face at the blood on Ricky. "Lad," he started to say.
"Where's the body?" Ricky asked a little louder.
"Gone," Gimli replied with difficulty. "The dead were left behind."
"Did you even see his body?" Ricky asked.
Gimli blinked, trying to understand where Ricky was going with his questioning. "No, lad."
"Until I see a body, I ain't writin' him off as dead," said Ricky. "Already did that twice and I was wrong both times. Aragorn's a tough sonovabitch. Wouldn't surprise me in the least if he came ridin' in here like he owned da place. Don' give up on him yet."
Gimli shook his head. "If only I had your optimism, lad."
Ricky turned and walked away. "Somebody's gotta carry a candle in this darkness."
Ricky went looking for a place where he could wash off. He followed a few women with their laundry out into the valley closed off by the great stone wall. They gathered around a small stream to wash their clothes. Ricky went further downstream, more or less up against the stone wall, and washed himself off there so the blood didn't contaminate anyone's clothes or possible drinking water. When he finished, he looked up and noticed a culvert in the wall where the stream drained out. It wasn't very wide and it was barred off so nothing could get through. He stared at it for a moment, a thought occurring to him.
"Ricky," Legolas called.
Ricky ignored Legolas and jumped into the water.
"Ricky!" cried Legolas, alarmed. He ran over to where Ricky had jumped in.
Ricky waded over to the culvert and found himself looking out of Helm's Deep. "Oh, shit."
"Ricky, what is wrong?" Legolas tried again.
Ricky climbed out of the drain, soaked from the waist down.
"Ricky!" Legolas was either growing impatient or concerned, Ricky wasn't sure which.
"We gotta problem," said Ricky. "I think I just found a way for Orcs to get in."
Legolas looked at the culvert. "It is far too small for an army to fit through. The Orcs would have to come through one at a time. It would be foolish for them as we would be able to kill them easily as they came through."
Ricky shook his head. "Where's Gimli? He might be able to help explain it."
The boy and the Elf went in search of their Dwarf friend. They found him sharpening his axe.
Gimli looked up at the two of them. Seeing Ricky's wet clothes, he asked, "What have you been doing now?"
"Ricky believes that the Orcs can breach the fortress through a small culvert," Legolas told Gimli.
Ricky rolled his eyes behind his goggles. "You say it that way and it sounds like I'm crazy."
"I have to agree with the Elf," said Gimli with a chuckle.
Ricky shook his head. "The drain itself is too small for Orcs to get through. But what if they made an existing hold bigger?"
"It would take days!" Gimli brushed off.
"Or seconds," argued Ricky. "A big enough explosion will destroy a whole section of the wall. Look, I've had to worry about leaky gas pipes in the tunnels. One spark and the whole block goes up, topside and down. Gimli, you Dwarves have to worry about that too when you're minin', don't you?"
Gimli looked at Legolas. "He's right. Mines have been collapsed in the past from a pocket of gas trapped within the rock igniting."
"But how would the Orcs use gas to destroy the wall?" Legolas asked.
"Doesn't have to be gas," said Ricky. "You can make a bomb from common household items if you know what you're doin'. Improvised explosives have been used in war before. And the tech's here: Sam said so himself."
The Elf and the Dwarf were confused.
"Gandalf's fireworks," Ricky explained. "Those things are just a somewhat tame version of what I'm talkin' about. Any dumbass can blow their hand off with one of those. Saruman's no moron. If he's creatin' Uruk-hai, I think the white bastard can figure out how to make a super-sized one that can blow apart the wall."
Seconds later they were running to find Théoden. They found him coming down from the battlements.
"What of those who cannot fight, my lord?" Gamling was asking. "The women and children?"
"Get them into the caves," Théoden replied. He saw the Elf, the Dwarf, and the boy waiting for him. "What troubles you?"
Legolas and Gimli looked down at Ricky. Ricky repeated what he told Legolas and Gimli.
Théoden frowned when Ricky finished his explanation. "Fire undoing stone? It is impossible."
"It's not the fire itself that's the problem," said Ricky. "It's the shockwave."
Théoden dismissed him. "These walls have never been breached, Master Weiss."
"First time for everythin'," Ricky put in.
Théoden continued to his next task. "You will join the women and the other children in the caves. You will be safe there."
Ricky growled and clenched his fists. "You know, not everybody's tryin' to screw you over! Some of us honestly ca'e 'bout what happens! Yeah, Wormtongue betrayed ya; dat don't mean everybody givin' you advice is tryin' to bring Rohan down."
He stormed off. As he did, he walked passed Éowyn.
"Master Weiss, where are you going?"
"Gettin' away from da schmucks around here!" snapped Ricky.
After freeing themselves and running into Fangorn Forest, Merry and Pippin had almost been killed by a determined Orc out for their blood that had followed them from the battlefield. They had tried to climb a tree, but the Orc had caught up to them and pulled Merry down to the ground. Everyone quickly discovered the tree the Hobbits had climbed was not a tree at all, but an Ent. The Ent had promptly disposed of the Orc, crushing it with one of its massive feet and then picked up Merry and Pippin, believing them to be little Orcs. The Hobbits had protested, but the Ent, Treebeard, would not listen to them. He took them to the White Wizard. The Hobbits had feared he brought them to Saruman, but were shocked to see Gandalf in white robes. Gandalf had confirmed their story and Treebeard had apologized. Gandalf had told Merry and Pippin to stay with Treebeard as they would be safe with him. For the last several days they had ridden on top of Treebeard, listening him tell stories and recite poetry in his slow speech.
With each day the forest seemed to become more alive or awake as Treebeard had put it. One morning, he had left the Hobbits alone to sleep while he took care of business. Pippin had awoken first and started to drink the water from a nearby spring. It caused him to grow a couple inches. When Merry had awoken and seen Pippin taller than him, he drank some of the water, too. Pippin had tried to stop him and the two had run around the area fighting over the water. Their shenanigans had been put to an end when the trees woke up and had tried to kill them by pulling them under their roots. They had been very lucky that Treebeard had heard them screaming and returned to have the trees release them.
Now Merry and Pippin were sitting on Treebeard's branches as he strode through Fangorn Forest.
"Look!" Pippin called out, pointing. "There's smoke to the south!"
Merry and Treebeard looked in the direction Pippin was pointing. Indeed there was smoke rising above the trees.
"There is always smoke rising from Isengard these days," said Treebeard.
"Isengard?" Merry repeated. He climbed up Treebeard for a better view.
Pippin saw Merry climbing and followed him up.
"There was a time when Saruman would walk in my woods," Treebeard went on, not bothered by the Hobbits climbing into his uppermost branches. "But now he has a mind of metal and wheels. He no longer cares for growing things."
Merry and Pippin stared over the tops of the trees. They could see the fields of Isengard beyond the forest. Near the river was a mass of black meandering along. The sound of thousands of marching feet was faint in the air. Amongst the mass of black were black banners with a white hand marking each one.
"What it is?" Pippin asked, worried.
"It's Saruman's army," Merry answered. "The war has started."
In a cave at Henneth Annûn, Faramir and his second-in-command, Madril, looked over a map.
"What news?" Faramir asked.
"Our scouts report Saruman has attacked Rohan," said Madril, putting a finger on Rohan and then dragging it down to Helm's Deep. "Théoden's people have fled to Helm's Deep. But we must look to our own borders. Faramir, Orcs are on the move. Sauron is marshalling an army. Easterlings and Southrons are passing through the Black Gate." He ran his finger on the other side of the map along the mountains bordering Mordor and tapped the Black Gate.
"How many?" asked Faramir.
"Some thousands," Madril replied. "More come every day."
Faramir pointed to a spot on the map. "Who's covering the river to the north?"
"We pulled five hundred men at Osgiliath, but if the city is attacked, we won't hold it," Madril told him.
Faramir considered Madril's words. He did not wish to lose Osgiliath again, not after Boromir won it back from the enemy. He looked at Isengard on the map.
"Saruman attacks from Isengard. Sauron from Mordor." Between the two said points was Rohan and Gondor. "The fight will come to Men on both fronts. Gondor is weak. Sauron will strike us soon. And he will strike hard."
Faramir looked at Osgiliath on the map. "He knows now we do not have the strength to repel him," he finished.
Frodo and Sam had their blindfolds removed to find themselves in a cave behind a waterfall. Gondorian Rangers went about their duties, not paying much mind to them.
Faramir walked up to them. "My men tell me you are Orc spies."
"Spies?" cried Sam from his place at Frodo's side. "Now wait just a minute!"
"Well, if you're not spies, then who are you?" Faramir asked.
Sam looked over at Frodo, who remained silent and unmoving.
Faramir took a seat on a rock to address them. "Speak," he ordered gently.
After a moment, Frodo spoke. "We are Hobbits of the Shire. Frodo Baggins is my name, and this is Samwise Gamgee."
"Your bodyguard?" asked Faramir.
Sam was insulted. "His gardener."
"And where is your skulking friend?" Faramir said.
Frodo had hoped they hadn't seen Gollum. He wanted no harm to come to the pitiful creature.
Faramir continued, "That gangrel creature. He had an ill-favored look."
Frodo shook his head. "There is no other."
Sam looked uncomfortable, worried that they would be caught in their lie.
Faramir eyed them suspiciously.
"We set out from Rivendell with eight companions," Frodo told the man. He could see he became very interested. Frodo silently thanked Ricky for his lessons of being able to read people. "One we lost in Moria, two were my kin, a Dwarf there was also, and an Elf. And three Men: Aragorn, son of Arathorn, Boromir of Gondor, and a boy, Ricky Weiss."
"You're a friend of Boromir?" Faramir asked, surprised by the names.
"Yes," Frodo replied slowly, "for my part."
"It would comfort you then to learn he is alive, though injured."
Frodo's mouth opened in surprise. "Injured? How? When?"
"As one of his companions, I hoped you would tell me," said Faramir.
"If something has happened to Boromir, we would have you tell us," Frodo pressed.
Faramir gave a soft sigh. "Six days ago, an Elvish vessel floated down the river. Boromir lay in it with two arrow wounds and a raging fever. When he woke, he spoke of a fellowship and a quest to destroy a great evil. To many, it would sound like the ravings of an ill man. But I know it in my heart it is true. He is my brother."
Frodo stood speechless at the revelation.
Later, Faramir sat alone, thinking. Boromir had told him about the Fellowship. He knew all the names and knew Frodo was the one to carry the Ring. But was the Hobbit who called himself Frodo truly Frodo or had the two Hobbits swapped names? The other two Hobbits had been taken by the Uruk-hai if Faramir was to believe his brother, but could it be possible he had been deceived and they were acting as decoys?
But the Ring. His father had sent Boromir for the Ring and to return it to Gondor to use against the enemy. But Boromir had failed. If one of the Hobbits did indeed carry the Ring, Faramir could succeed where his brother had failed.
We cannot use the Ring. No one can. I was a blind man to believe so. It cannot go to Gondor.
Those had been Boromir's words. He had been adamant about the Ring not going to Gondor and needing to destroy it. He had begged Faramir not to make the same mistake he had made.
"Captain Faramir!"
Faramir turned to see Madril coming up to him.
"We found the third one," Madril whispered in his ear.
Frodo woke in the middle of the night to footsteps. He opened his eyes to see Faramir and two Gondorian Rangers.
"You must come with me," said Faramir. "Now."
Frodo silently rose and followed them.
The waterfall concealing their location flowed over the cliff, leaving space on both sides. Faramir inched forward to the edge of the cliff.
"Down there," he said softly.
Frodo carefully stepped along the narrow path and looked down, Faramir watching him.
Below was a pool at the base of the waterfall. Gollum was perched on a rock but soon jumped into the water.
Frodo's eyes widened, knowing he had been caught in his lie.
"To enter the Forbidden Pool bears the penalty to death," Faramir said calmly.
Frodo looked up at him fearfully.
Faramir gestured to the sides of the waterfall. There were archers on either side, their bows drawn to shoot Gollum.
"They wait for my command," he told Frodo.
From below, Gollum surfaced with a fish in his teeth and sat on a rock.
"Shall I shoot?" Faramir asked Frodo.
Frodo watched in indecision as Gollum went about oblivious to danger around him. He beat the fish he brought up with him against the rock he was sitting on, singing about how good it would be to eat. Faramir kept his eyes on Frodo as he raised his hand to give his archers the order to shoot.
"Wait!" Frodo said.
Faramir lowered his hand, still watching Frodo.
"This creature is bound to me. And I to him. He is our guide. Please . . . let me go to him," he begged.
Faramir nodded and Frodo ran off.
The Hobbit hurried down the pool, desperate to get to Gollum before the man changed his mind and have his men shoot him.
"Sméagol!" he called.
Gollum paid him no mind, too intent on eating his catch.
"Master is here," Frodo tried again.
Gollum turned, hesitant.
"Come, Sméagol. Trust master. Come!"
Gollum didn't move. He watched Frodo with a distrustful look. "We must go now?"
"Sméagol, you must trust master," Frodo coaxed. "Follow me, come on. Come."
Gollum put the fish in his mouth and warily followed him as Frodo backed away from the pool.
"Come Sméagol," Frodo urged, stepping back. "Nice Sméagol. That's it. Come on."
Then Gollum knew then something was wrong as Frodo had stopped talking. A Gondorian Ranger grabbed Gollum by the neck and lifted him off the ground. Immediately several other Rangers were on him, overpowering him. Gollum wailed in anguish.
"Don't hurt him!" Frodo yelled at the Rangers. "Sméagol, don't struggle! Sméagol, listen to me!"
"Master!" howled Gollum. A black cloth was pulled over his head and he continued to scream.
Frodo looked up at Faramir and the man turned away without a word.
Gollum was taken into the caves where Faramir's men beat him for several moments.
"That's enough," Faramir told them.
The men tossed Gollum aside and he went scurrying into a corner.
"Where are you leading them?" Faramir asked Gollum.
Gollum cowered, his back to them, whimpering.
"Answer me!" ordered Faramir.
Gollum continued to sob. Then one hand came around and started to stroke his shoulder comfortably.
"Sméagol! Why does it cry, Sméagol?" Gollum asked.
Faramir watched, confused.
Gollum sobbed. "Cruel Men hurts us. Master tricksed us. Of course he did. I told you he was tricksy. I told you he was false."
Faramir was a little disturbed by the mood swings the creature was having. One second he was sobbing and the next he was angry.
"Master is our friend . . . our friend," Gollum sobbed, arguing with himself. "Master betrayed us! No. Not its business. Leave us alone!" He hit his fist against the wall. "Filthy little Hobbitses! They stole it from us! No . . . no."
"What did they steal?" Faramir asked.
Gollum slowly turned to Faramir. "My Precious!" he snarled, baring his teeth and growling.
Sam and Frodo sat alone in a storage area.
"We have to get out of here," Sam whispered to Frodo. "You go. Go, now."
Frodo looked warily at Sam.
Sam crawled over to Frodo. "You can do it. Use the Ring, Mr. Frodo. Just this once. Put it on. Disappear."
Frodo shook his head. "I can't," he said slowly. "You were right, Sam. You tried to tell me, but . . . I'm sorry. The Ring's taking me, Sam." He added fearfully, "If I put it on, he'll find me. He'll find me."
"Mr. Frodo."
Frodo shook his head again. "I'm not as strong as Ricky believes me to be. I don't know how I can keep going."
Sam looked at Frodo sadly.
Faramir entered and drew his sword.
Frodo and Sam jumped to their feet and backed away.
"So this is the answer to all the riddles," Faramir began. "Here in the Wild I have you. Two halflings and a host of Men at my call." He backed Frodo up against a wall, his sword at the Hobbit's throat. "The Ring of Power within my grasp." He used his sword to lift the Ring from Frodo's tunic.
The Ring began to hum, calling to Faramir to take it from Frodo.
"A chance for Faramir, captain of Gondor, to show his quality," Faramir added.
Frodo fell into a trance as the Ring continued to hum. He then suddenly snapped out of it. "No!" he shouted, batting Faramir's sword away and running to a corner.
Faramir watched Frodo's reaction with surprise.
Sam got between Faramir and Frodo. "Stop it!" he yelled angrily. "Leave him alone! Don't you understand? He's got to destroy it! That's where we're going – into the Mordor, to the mountain of fire. But you already knew that. Boromir would have told you."
Madril entered and went to Faramir's side. "Osgiliath is under attack. They call for reinforcements."
Faramir did not look away from Frodo.
"Please," Sam begged. "It's such a burden. Will you not help him?"
"Captain?" Madril asked again.
Faramir turned to Madril. "Prepare to leave."
Madril left.
Faramir looked at the Hobbits, no hint of expression on his face. "The Ring will go to Gondor."
Sam looked at the man with fear and hopelessness.
Faramir left and began to ready himself to leave.
The Ring cannot go to Gondor.
He could hear his brother's words in his head.
We cannot use the Ring. No one can. I was a blind man to believe so. It cannot go to Gondor.
But he had no choice. His father, the Steward of Gondor, ordered the Ring to go to Gondor. Yes, Boromir gave up the Ring, and their father would forgive him for it, but he would never forgive Faramir. Nothing Faramir did pleased their father. He had to redeem himself in some way. What better way than doing what Boromir could not?
Ricky was startled awake by a hand on his shoulder. He swung at the hand only to have his wrist caught. Legolas was kneeling in front of him.
"We were worried," said the Elf. "We did not know where you had gone."
"You found me," Ricky said groggily, pushing his goggles up his face to rub his eyes. He looked around the horse stall he had taken up residence in. The horse itself hadn't cared in the least that it was sharing its stall with the boy and calmly watched him and Legolas.
"I know you grieve," said Legolas. "You were close to Aragorn."
"Hey," Ricky started to say.
Legolas took something out of his quiver. "You gave me a reprieve from the darkness. Perhaps this will give you some comfort." He held out Ricky's flashlight. "I know it does not replace Aragorn, but I hope its familiarity will bring you some peace."
Ricky took the flashlight from Legolas. He cranked it up and turned it on, directing the beam at the floor. After a moment, he turned it off. "Thank you."
Legolas nodded. "Come and eat."
"I'll meet you upstairs," said Ricky.
Legolas nodded and left.
Ricky waited a moment to make sure Legolas had left, which was hard because his footsteps were almost soundless. He brought the flashlight to his chest and held it close. Legolas was right: it was nice to have something familiar back. It wouldn't replace Aragorn because Aragorn didn't need replacing. He was alive, Ricky was sure of it. After being wrong about Gandalf and Boromir, believing they were dead without seeing their bodies, he wasn't going to make the same mistake with Aragorn. Aragorn was going to show up at Helm's Deep at any time, he had to. Gandalf had told him the people of Rohan would need him and Aragorn had promised that their defenses would hold. If Aragorn wasn't around to do it, who would? Legolas? Gimli? Ricky?
Ricky put his flashlight away and stood up. He really hoped Aragorn was alive. In addition to not knowing who would be able to step up and help Rohan, Ricky did not want to be the one to tell Arwen her boyfriend was dead.
A woman must not rely on the protection of man, but must be taught to protect herself. – Susan B. Anthony
So how did I do? I think my challenge other than the timeline this time was getting caught up what was going on with the Hobbits on their respective journeys. Thoughts with Ricky's interactions with everyone? I know I haven't done much with Théodred yet, but I have ideas. The ripple effect was so real when I was editing this chapter and the last. I nixed an entire scene from the previous chapter because I felt like it didn't make sense and I had remove conversations between Ricky and Théodred had afterwards about it. Not to worry, I have plans for Théodred in the next chapter. Speaking of which that will be the battle of Helm's Deep.
With Halloween coming up next month, I had hoped to make a Halloween story as I haven't done a "Halloween" story since Lucid Dream: Until Dawn. It doesn't look like I will be doing that this year, however I am planning to post a sequel to an old story next month instead. I know I said I wouldn't do anything new until the old stuff was finished, but the new story is already complete and just needs final edits.