The next morning we set out early. I feel my body sway lightly at the steady pace of the horse beneath me, my eyes shut tight as I try to rest. No sleep comes to me though and in my tired state, I begin to wish I were more like an Elf.
Aragorn, who holds onto the reigns, converses quietly with Éowyn who walks beside him. She asks him about his necklace, the Evenstar that Arwen gave him. A long silence ensues before he finally tells her that his love has left for another world.
I was about to nod off when my back goes rigid in response to what my instinct tells me, my hand grasping for the hilt of my sword. Something is amiss. "Therith? What is it?" Aragorn urges, immediately catching on to my alarm. I watch the horizon carefully, the hills sloping downward ahead of us and hindering my sight, but not all senses are so. "The scent of a fiend." I hiss, making the two look forward in alarm.
Aragorn rushes forward to find Legolas. It is not long after that he returns, alarming the King of our enemy after Legolas confirmed that we are under attack. Wargs approach and already made victims of our scouts.
Éowyn is made to lead the people to Helm's deep by the King as Aragorn jumps on the horse behind me, urging it into a run and blending in with the other riders present.
Rushing down the slopes, we soon face a decent sized Warg troop, Orcs riding on their backs. I manage to send ahead an arrow or two before they reach us, making me turn to my sword before long.
"What are you doing?!" Aragorn yells over the fray as I climb and crouch on top of the horse. "Helping!" I shout, catapulting myself off the horse and onto the grass into a roll. Getting up, I run over to a lone Warg, digging my sword in its side.
It collapses onto another Warg, a painful grunt coming from underneath it. "How are you holding up Gimli?" I question, looking down to see not even half of his body sticking out beneath the heap of dead Wargs. "I have been better lass. Now help me get these creatures off of me!" he growls.
Cutting down an approaching Orc, I turn and grab hold of the Warg that lies on top, pulling as Gimli pushes. One by one, we get rid off them until Gimli finally stands, breathing hard. "Thank you lass." I nod, patting his shoulder before whipping around and cutting down the Warg and rider that came up behind.
Before long, the battle passes; neither Orc nor Warg has remained alive to my knowledge. Looking around, I try to see if everyone is accounted for. We have lost a few lives ourselves it seems, but I suppose it could be worse.
"Aragorn!" Legolas shouts, looking around wildly. It rattles me. Maybe I was too quick to speak. Looking around me, I indeed see no sign of him.
A heavily wounded orc catches our attention as he laughs mockingly at our efforts to find him. Gimli steps up to him and brandishes his axe. "Tell me where he is, and I'll ease your suffering."
The orc goes to laugh again, but coughs while spitting out those horrible words; "He's dead…. He took a little tumble off the cliff." he chuckles as blood drips from his ghastly mouth. Legolas grabs onto him angrily. "You lie." he hisses before the orc perishes mid-laughter.
Something then catches the elf's eye. Clutched within the filthy orcs' hands is a token very familiar to us. The Evenstar has been ripped from Aragorn's neck. "No." I whisper in disbelief, scrambling for the cliffside and looking down for any sign of Aragorn, but far below are only the white rapids.
The King, who stands beside us, turns to his men. "Get the wounded on horses, the wolves of Isengard will return… Leave the dead." he says in a resolute voice, making us look at him in disbelief. "We can't leave him out there. Besides, I have seen no proof of his death. I'll be damned if I take the word of an orc!" I argue, meeting the King's softened eyes. "Hope is never a bad thing…unless it be misplaced." he says, taking hold of my shoulder in a fatherly manner. "Come." he urges, before leaving us.
I look after him offended. 'Misplaced hope?!' I turn towards Legolas and Gimli, but their answer on the question in my eyes is not to my liking; Gimli sighs sadly, shrugging before dragging his feet away from the edge. After a moment, Legolas shakes his head, his eyes full of hurt. "Please do not ask me to say something that might very well be false, Therith." he breathes, clutching the Evenstar as if it's the last remainder left of our dear friend. I frown after him as he sulks off.
Casting another glance downward, I feel disappointed at the finality of the situation. They have started to grief, but how can they? I understand that any normal human would not live after such a fall, but Aragorn has never been quite normal. How can anyone ask me to give up and cry for his lost live when I'm not even certain of his death? I make up my mind.
"Lass, come along now." Gimli ushers, having taken seat on a horse. Legolas stands beside him, awaiting me. Their eyes widen in surprise as I shake my head. "Therith…?" Legolas questions wearily.
"I ask you to go ahead without me. I shall follow the river." I state, making the elf walk up to me, a worried look in his eyes. "There is a danger coming nearer. You should come with us. I too would like to search, but the King is right. We cannot linger." Legolas tries to reason. His eyes widen as I softly place my hand on his smooth, pale, cheek.
"You know more than any other of what I'm capable of. I will not be overtaken. I will search swiftly, after that I will come to Helm's deep. I will return to you. That is a promise." I tell him, certain of it. Legolas grasps onto my hand with his own. "If you do happen across him…and the outcome is not what you hope for…you'll be alone." he warns. I nod, understanding where he's going with this. "If that happens, I'll hold my grief until comfort is more near." I tell him.
Legolas reluctantly releases his hold on me. "If you are certain…" he lingers. I smile up at him in an attempt to calm his worries. "We need to know for certain what happened to him. He's been looking after us for so long, I'm certain he would do the same for one of us." I tell him, making him nod at the truth of those words. "Be swift. We'll await your return."
I nod at him before turning around and jumping down the cliff-side, my wings freeing themselves and catching me before I hit the cold river below. I'm gone before the King and his men can grasp the situation.
As the wind is cold, I have to work hard to keep myself airborne. I must have traveled quite far down the river when movement below, accompanied by a neigh catches my attention.
Making for the ground and retreating my wings, I reach out to the great brown horse that called out. A rope is still attached to its head, signalling that it's not from the wild. I blink in surprise, recognizing it. "I have seen you before." I muse, remembering the restless horse I passed in the stables of Edoras. I believe Aragorn had quite taken a liking to him.
The horse suddenly turns around, bucking its head towards the now calm river. Looking over, I gasp before rushing in and pulling the floating body towards shore. He had gotten stuck between two rocks and was nearly hidden from sight. I shiver from the cold water and pray for his life.
Laying him down, I hold my hand above his mouth and nose and am pleasantly surprised to feel his breath. "Aragorn!" I call out, shaking him without being too rough. I do not know the extent of his injuries. All I can see now is deep scrape on his arm. The horse joins me, nipping at Aragorn in its own effort to get a reaction out of the man.
I smile in relief when he finally opens his eyes. "Therith?" he wonders, sounding drowsy. He then glances up to see the horse. "Brego?"
"You had me frightened my friend. Thank the Valar for Brego showing me where you were." I say, helping him sit up. "How do you feel? Can you travel?" I ask. He blinks tiredly before nodding. "I'll be fine, just sore." "Come, we have a long way ahead of us." I urge him. "Everyone will be glad to see you still with us."
I help him on top of the willing horse. I suppose Brego took a liking to Aragorn as well. I walk besides the horse, guiding him over and across rough terrain while Aragorn rests.
The day is almost at an end when a noise reaches our ears. From our perch on a hill, hidden behind rock, a shocking sight chills our hearts. I recognize the markings on the individuals in the marching army of Urukhai. "The whole of Isengard has emptied. They are marching for Helm's deep." Aragorn says with a heavy voice.
I frown, dread filling me. "We need to warn them…though this army…it is the largest I've ever seen, the most powerful as well. Even despite a timely warning, the odds are…minimal." I say, my voice wavering in uncertainty. "Therith." Aragorn starts, drawing my attention away from the army. "You may well be right; but like you, the people of Rohan hold hope through unlikely situations. So they will try and we can aid them as best as we may, however far victory may seem."
I mull over his words, realizing that there isn't much the people of Rohan can do but face the enemy, despite the odds. I just hope that the outcome won't seem as bleak as my expectations. Perhaps that our presence will be of some aid.