Chapter Twenty-One
Dawn came and with it Rohan's salvation. An army of Rohirrim charged into the midst of the orcs. They were led by Eomer, the third Marshall of Rohan, and a shining figure on a white horse. The staff he carried made it obvious that this was the wizard. This was Gandalf.
Theoden, Aragorn, Legolas, and what Eorlingas were left charged out of the hall, slicing down every orc in their path. This charge was their last hope to save the people of Rohan. As they rode out, a deep, loud horn sounded, echoing off the mountains and ringing out over the clash of the battle.
The two charges were effective. The Rohirrim left twin paths of dead orcs in their wake. They fought relentlessly, ploughing through rank upon rank of blackened creatures.
Two people were left in the hall. One was an elf with his sword drawn and ready to protect his charge from whatever dared to enter the hall. Beside him lay Ilmare. He had wrapped her carefully in her cloak and laid her flat on the floor. Only now did she show any signs of life.
"Te na si," (He is here) she whispered. Haldir instantly knelt by her side and pushed back her hood. Her eyes were open and shining with hope. He could only guess that she could sense Gandalf somewhere near, and if that was true, they had a chance at life. If nothing else, Gandalf was powerful, and he would fight to his very last for the lady that lay at his feet. The elf looked back down at her only to see her unconscious again. Her head lolled to her side, a testament to the exhaustion of her mind.
Out on the plain, orcs and men alike fell, but the orcs no longer stood a chance. The wave of horsemen swept through, and destruction reigned. They drove the orcs into a forest which had certainly not been there before. The trees stood unnatural and menacing before them. The men, at least, had sense enough to keep their distance.
"Stay out of the trees!" Eomer warned. Only seconds later, the trees began to move. They could hear the squeals and screams of the dying orcs as the unnatural trees killed them, leaving them to wonder what they were. A certain wizard knew exactly from where they came, but his attention was not on the trees of Fangorn at Helm's Deep's very doorstep.
Gandalf rode through the carnage on the plains. His eyes searched the area carefully for a small, purple figure, but she was not there. Spotting Aragorn amongst the throng, he hurried over and asked, or rather demanded, "Where is Ilmare?"
"She is in the hall. Haldir is with her," Aragorn said. He looked as though he was going to say more, but Gandalf took off at a fast clip toward the gate. The wizard did not stop until he reached the upper doors. At that point, he jumped off his fair horse Shadowfax and burst through the doors.
Instantly, he spotted her lying on her back on a bench. Her eyes were closed, and her breathing was nearly imperceptible. These combined with her stillness and pallor made her seem corpse-like. Over her stood an elf with his sword drawn.
"Mithrandir," Haldir said, nodding to acknowledge the wizard. "Be at peace. She is alive. She used her power."
Gandalf knelt at her side and pushed back her hood. Her beautiful face glistened with sweat. Even the sunlight lent her no colour.
"Sauron found her," Haldir explained, having felt his presence of evil in her mind.
Gandalf placed a hand on her forehead and whispered in an ancient tongue. A light shone through his hand for a second before fading into her skin. The sweat dissolved, and her face regained its colour, all before their eyes.
"She will need to rest," Gandalf said before kissing her forehead and replacing her hood. "Thank you."
"I owed her my life," Haldir said plainly.
Gandalf nodded to him before turning and walking back out to the leadership of Rohan. Haldir did not follow.