Well hello there! I have to admit that I've been in a rut with this story recently. I usually have a few chapters already written, but now I've only got part of chapter 27 and that's it. I have however, been writing a bit of a new story that I'll be uploading right after this. It's a tiny bit different then this one seeing as how the main character is a horse. Yes. That's right. No you did not read that wrong. I did write horse. Not an elf, human, hobbit, or dwarf. A horse. It's going to be called 'The Secret of a Horse's Heart.' I'd love for you to go check it out! Please and thank you! Enough of this silly author note! On with the story!
P.S. Romance alert!
It was late afternoon when the column arrived at Dunharrow. Tents had already been pitched and there were soldiers all over the place. Alarain used her legs to point Fayna after her companions while she looked around. Theoden King listened intently as he was told how many men had come. He soon led the way up a winding path to a large flat plateau that looked out over the camp below. There were many more tents up there as well, and as they rode through, Alarain saw a very big one that she supposed was the king's. Her suspicions were confirmed when he stopped his white steed at the entrance. A soldier took his horse and he turned to them.
Her friends also dismounted and Aragorn went to speak with the king. They had walked to the edge of the cliff and Alarain wondered closer to hear what they were saying.
"Less then half of what I'd hoped for." Theoden spoke quietly.
How many had come?
"Six thousand will not be enough to brake the lines of Mordor." Aragorn said with a frown as he looked down at the refuge.
Oh...
Theoden turned to the ranger. "More will come." he said, though clearly he wasn't sure.
"Every hour lost hastens Gondor's defeat." She had to strain to hear Aragorn. He looked over to the king and spoke again. "We have 'till dawn, then we must ride."
She was surprised at his tone when he spoke to the king. Aragorn had practically given him an order. Theoden however, only gave a small smile and nod before turning at the sound of a terrified horse. She turned as well, but not before Aragorn spotted her and narrowed his eyes. He'd caught her listening in and obviously didn't agree with it.
The horse was prancing around and giving off loud neighs while a man tried to calm it. Theoden departed for his tent when the soldier finally got the horse under control and Aragorn too wandered away. She spotted Boromir and went to join him. He was with Lord Eomer who glanced over as she neared before turning back to the mountain.
"The horses are restless, and the men are quiet." came the voice of Legolas as he and Gimli approached.
Eomer turned to them. "They grow nervous in the shadow of the mountain." He looked back to the cliff that towered above them with a suspicious expression. She followed his gaze to see a long gap in the rock face that lead into the heart of the mountain.
Gimli had noticed it as well. "That road there." he said. "Where does that lead?"
"It is the road to the Dimholt. The door under the mountain." Legolas said, something close to fear showing in his eyes.
Lord Eomer turned back to the group. "None who venture there ever return." He looked to her before continuing. "That mountain is evil. It is best you keep your distance from it."
Boromir had kept quiet, but now he spoke. "What is at the end?"
Legolas answered. "The Paths of the Dead." That was all the information he offered before striding away. He obviously didn't enjoy the subject.
She and Boromir exchanged a glance and she shrugged. He moved his eyes back to the mountain and his expression grew confused. She followed his gaze to see Aragorn staring into the gap. He took a few steps forward and jumped when Gimli came up behind him. His face was startled and he glanced back to the road with wide eyes before following the dwarf.
"What was that about?" Boromir asked, though he didn't expect an answer. They were silent and he turned to her. "Alarain?" he began. His voice was reluctant.
"Yes?" she pried. "What is it?"
"Do you believe that Aragorn would be a good king?"
Alarain stared at the Gondorian. She had not been expecting that question. "Yes." she said quietly. "He is a smart man. He knows much of the world and has knowledge of many things. He is also kind and fair. I do believe that he would, though I'm not sure he does."
Boromir didn't answer for a moment. "I agree." he smiled slightly. "Though my father would not." He gave her a nod and walked off to be alone.
Watching him go, she frowned. What if Aragorn does want to become the king, but Denethor doesn't let him? What will happen then? She shook the troublesome thoughts from her mind and wandered away.
Giving Fayna a pat as she passed, she noticed that the horses were still very restless. The woman's eyes shot to the mountain again and a feeling of unease seeped through her. Walking quickly away, she found herself at the side of the plateau. There were a few bushes that sat in between the tents and the side of the rocky cliff face and she smiled happily as she walked among them. She felt good around the greenery, which just convinced her even more that she could be one of the Dunedain. The vast plains of Rohan were still magical in her eyes, but when she was amongst trees, she felt at home.
She sat down in the grass under a shrub and looked out over the camp below. Dawn was falling and the sky began to turn a beautiful shade of orange as the sun sank behind the horizon. Moving her gaze back down to the tents that were scattered across the valley, she frowned again. She was restless and something was bothering her, though she had not a clue what. Darkness came as she sat there, but she was not tired and did not move.
As she stared off at nothing, a great wind seemed to blow through her bones. She shivered when something close to an exhale could also be heard on the breeze. The wind left as soon as it had come. She thought it strange, but pushed it from her mind and continued in her trance.
"Alarain?" She spun around at the voice, startled and slightly frightened. It was only Aragorn and she calmed immediately at his presence. "What are you doing still awake?" he asked, stepping towards her.
She rose and turned to him. "I could ask you the same thing?" The ranger raised an eyebrow and she shrugged. "I'm not tired."
He nodded slowly. "Alarain." he said again. She looked up to his gaze to see him looking down to his hands. Following his eyes, she saw he carried his sword in it's scabbard.
"Why do you have your sword?" she asked.
Aragorn looked back to her and smiled slightly. "This sword has come to mean a great deal to me. Don't laugh." he said, eying her. "It's become almost a friend. However, I no longer need it."
Her face showed her confusion. "Why?" she asked quietly.
He sighed and seemed to ready himself. He propped the sword against a bush and reached to his side. She let out a gasp as he drew another from it's sheath. It was a blade she knew all too well. Her eyes snapped up to his and saw a look of worry on his face. "This is Anduril. It was forged from the shards of Narsil." he said, voice quiet.
"How did you come to get it?" she asked in a whisper as she stared at the famous blade in amazement.
"Lord Elrond brought it to me."
Her stare flashed back to his face. "He's here?"
"Yes. Arwen somehow managed to persuade him to reforge it before she left." he answered.
"What do you mean? Before she left where?"
He met her gaze again and spoke softly. "She has sailed across the sea Alarain. Elrond said that she told him to wish you farewell before she departed. She also said... to follow your heart."
Alarain's heart was too busy feeling sad to follow at the moment. Arwen has left...
"Alarain?" The ranger sheathed Anduril and picked up his old sword again. "I've told you how much this sword means to me, and I don't wish for it to fall into any unworthy hands. It only seems fit that I should give the sword that means so much to me to the woman that means so much to me." She couldn't stop the smile from spreading on her face at his words. "Will you keep it safe for me?"
"I'll protect it with my life." she whispered, taking it from his hands. His fingers brushed hers as she did and he smiled back.
"Hopefully it will protect your life." Aragorn whispered. "Would you do me the honour of one more training session before the battle?" he asked with a crooked grin.
She nodded and they unsheathed their blades. The two circled each other for a moment before she attacked. Aragorn blocked and twisted so her sword was at an odd angle. He dashed in to swing and she quickly brought her arm down and pushed his sword away with hers. She stepped back and he moved forward. Swinging, he faked his attack left but turned and she felt his blade at her right side. He had stopped it just before it met her body and was thankful. The blade looked sharp.
Her wandering thoughts proved a nuisance when he swung again. His sword sang over her head as she duck and jumped back. Her back hit the hard rock of the cliff side and she rolled along it as Aragorn continued his attack. She suddenly remembered her trick in Lothlorien and braced herself against the stone. She readied her body to spring forward, but he saw through her and before she could launch her weight on him, he twisted her sword out of her grasp and stepped closer, blade to her throat.
With her back to the rocks and Anduril at her neck, she admitted defeat. Aragorn however, didn't back off. Instead, he tilted his sword up so she raised her chin. He stepped closer again and she felt his body heat warming the air around her. His eyes were soft as he gazed at her and she felt herself begin to blush. He was studying her face and she knew he could most likely see her cheeks colouring.
Aragorn half-smiled and slowly moved forward. The metal on her neck was cold and as he leaned closer, he brought his blade up and forced her face up to meet his lips. He soon removed the sword and, still kissing her softly, rested it against the cliff face. She felt one of his hands come to her face and his fingers tickled her cheek as he moved his body closer.
It was a very vulnerable feeling, being caught between him and the rock, but she liked it. She trusted this man completely, and if he wanted to kiss her like this... well... she'd let him.
She brought her hands up to his chest and pulled him towards her by his shirt. His heart was beating fast under her hands and she had to control herself when she had the sudden urge to relieve him of his tunic.
Aragorn's hands wound their way around her waist and held her protectively. He suddenly pulled back and they were both breathing hard. "I must leave." he whispered, resting his forehead on hers and staring into her eyes with a knee weakening look.
It took a moment for her to register what he had said, and when she finally did, she pushed him back to look at him properly. "What? Where? Why?"
He laughed at her questions, but the look in her eyes silenced him. He still had his hands on her waist and she on his chest and he sighed. "I must take the Dimholt road." he said quietly.
Alarain pushed him farther back and he let go of her. She stared at him, a look of pain in her eyes. "Then I'm coming with you."
His face hardened. "No."
"Yes."
"Alarain." His voice had grown slightly dangerous sounding and she frowned. It softened again as he spoke. "Please. I don't know how dangerous it will be and if you..." he trailed off. "I couldn't live with myself if something happened to you." He stepped closer again but she put her hands up to stop him. He backed off but continued. "Please trust me Alarain." he whispered.
"I'll still be riding to war with Theoden."
Aragorn's gaze fell. "At least you know what you are riding into. I don't know for sure what lies down that road." His eyes flashed back to hers and she saw pain and worry swirling around in them. "Please don't make me leave with you angry."
Her frown softened. They watched each other carefully for a moment before both moving in unison. Aragorn's arms around her were so tight she could hardly breath, but she didn't care. She wrapped her arms around him as well and nuzzled her face into his neck. His hair tickled her cheek as he looked down. "I love you." he whispered in her ear.
"I love you too." she answered quietly, joy running through her veins. He'd never actually said those three words to her before now, and it sent her heart pounding and her stomach flipping. "Don't die or I'll kill you."
She felt him laugh. "I'll try not to die if you don't."
"Alright." she whispered.
Aragorn stepped back and his eyes sparkled with care. He gave her one more quick kiss before turning and striding away. Her eyes followed him until he was out of sight before she looked away collect her new sword from where it lay on the ground. She ran her fingers gently over the blade before sheathing it. Attaching it to her hip, Alarain slowly walked back to the camp.
Making her way among the many tents, she paused. Something was wrong. She turned her head to see that Brego was gone, but so was Arod. Fayna still stood tied up next to Boromir's chestnut stallion, who she had learned was called Deorlig. Boromir had just finished speaking with a Rohirrim soldier when he saw her. He walked over with a worried look on his face.
"Legolas and Gimli went with him." the man said as he neared. Her face fell visibly and he spoke again. "Aragorn asked me to stay and made me promise to keep an eye on you, so come with me." He began to stroll away and she dragged her feet as she followed. "Hurry up. You're acting like a child." he teased. Alarain didn't reply so he stopped. "You will see him again." She looked up to see he had a fierce look in his eyes. "He must come out of there. If he does not, then all hope is lost. So are you going to mope about, or get something to eat. You've hardly eaten a thing all day."
Alarain sighed. "Alright." was all she said.
Boromir lead her to a campfire that was currently surrounded by Eomer and some of his soldiers. Passing her a plate of food, the Gondorian sat down and motioned for her to join him. She did, though her mind and her heart were far from the camp. Eomer looked confused at the faraway gaze in her eyes and turned to Boromir for a explanation. He didn't give one and only shook his head, signaling him not to ask her about it.
Alarain was suddenly startled out of her thoughts when Merry walked past her, exiting from the tent behind them. He was swinging a small sword around and she heard Eowyn's voice. "To the smithy, go!" she laughed. Merry ceased his practicing and trotted off.
"You should not encourage him." Eomer said, glaring into the fire.
Her heart clenched in annoyance and Eowyn spoke. "You should not doubt him."
"I do not doubt his heart... only the reach of his arm." Eomer muttered while a soldier beside him let out a quiet laugh.
"Why should Merry be left behind? He has as much cause to go to war as you." Eowyn countered.
She began to walk away, but her brother rose and made his way slowly after her. "You know as little of war as that Hobbit." Eowyn paused. "When the fear takes him and the blood and the screams and the horror of battle take hold. Do you think he would stand and fight?"
Boromir had been watching with anger in his eyes and now he spoke. "Eomer." he growled dangerously.
The man ignored him and his eyes stayed on Eowyn. "He would flee, and he would be right to do so." He put his hand on his sister's shoulder. "War is the province of men, Eowyn."
Alarain's blood had begun to boil, and now as those words came out of his mouth, she snapped. No longer caring that this man was next in line for the throne of Rohan, she sprang up, ran over, and punched him right in the jaw.
"Alarain!" Boromir exclaimed. He shot up as well and grabbed her arms, pulling her away from the other man. Eomer slowly turned and stared at her in shock. His expression soon changed to that of a glare.
"You know nothing of Merry so do not go assuming you do!" she shouted at him. A crowd soon began to form as she grew more and more angry. "He has been through countless battles and survived! He has lived through orcs, trolls, Ringwraiths, and even a Balrog! Him and Pippin are the reason that Isengard was defeated and that Saruman is dead!"
Eomer still looked shocked and mad at the same time, and he now took a step towards her. A low growl sounded at her side and everyone turned to see Brenir with his teeth bared. Eomer backed away as the dog advanced. With hackles raised, he stood between her and Eomer.
Boromir suddenly let go, springing back and staring at his hand. It was red hot. She took no notice, but fled from the crowd. Her anger was raging and she could tell something was wrong. Her arm had grown heavy and as she looked under her sleeve, she saw that the hand mark was bubbling. Tears began to fall and she retreated to the comforts of the undergrowth by the sides. As she slumped to the ground, Brenir ran up beside her and licked her face. He sat down and gazed back to camp, keeping a lookout for Eomer.
She sat there for what seemed like days, crying over everything. Brenir growled and she jumped, looking up to see who was approaching. It was Boromir. Brenir was still unsure and she let out her own quiet growl at him, letting him know that she was fine with Boromir's presence.
Brenir moved and the Gondorian took his spot beside her, resting a blanket around her shoulders. They were silent and she didn't even bother to wipe away her tears for she knew that he had seen them already. "You've had an eventful night. You should sleep." Boromir said quietly.
"I don't want to go back to camp." Alarain muttered.
Boromir looked over to her. "Then sleep here. I'll stay and make sure you are left to your rest."
The woman smiled slightly. "Thank you." she yawned. She lay back in the grass among the undergrowth and Brenir settled himself down beside her. Lifting up her head, she looked back at Boromir. "Did I hurt you?" she asked.
He glanced at his hand. It was still slightly red, but did not look burnt. "No. Don't worry about me." She nodded sleepily and rested her head down again. "I hope I can keep you alive until you see Aragorn again." Boromir whispered, leaning back on a stone. Alarain laughed a little before falling into a dreamless sleep.