Hello again! The updates haven't been regular lately but I finely found my copy of The Two Towers so hopefully that will speed up the writing process a bit. As usual thank you for the lovely reviews, I really appreciated them! I don't know if anyone is still reading this but if you are then thank you and I hope you enjoy this chapter!
Aragorn awoke to the sound of rushing water and a soft nose nuzzling his face. He opened his eyes and raised a hand to shield them from the harsh light of the sun. He was lying flat on his back on a riverbed of cool pebbles. Brego was standing beside him and the horse once again nudged his arm. Aragorn had befriended the animal back in Edoras. He belonged to Théodred and was spooked by the battle and death of his rider. Aragorn had calmed him with elven words and advised Éowyn to set him free.
Aragorn blinked and tried to remember what had happened. He knew that the visions and voice of Arwen had been a dream, a beautiful dream. His memory before that was cloudy and he struggled to separate the events of the past few days. He recalled the healing of Théoden and the ambush on the way to Helm's Deep and falling over a cliff when he became entangled in the saddle of a Warg. Grabbing Brego's mane for support, Aragorn pulled himself to his feet and winced as pain shot through his body. His shoulders ached and it felt as if his limbs were on fire as he hauled himself up onto the horse. With a light squeeze from his rider's knees, Brego eased into a smooth canter. Aragorn held on tightly as the horse picked his way up the steep hill.
They kept a steady pace for the next few hours, often Aragorn would nod off and nearly fall asleep on the horse's back. He had just jerked himself awake from one of these incidents when he heard the heavy stomping of feet, in unison. Brego snorted and Aragorn steered him toward a group of grey boulders where a stream gurgled from under the mossy earth. Aragorn peered from behind the rocks and his eyes widened. On the horizon was a sea of black, shifting and rippling in the sun. The dozen or so catapults were like ships sailing on the roiling water. The Uruk-hai of Isengard numbered ten thousand at least and their chant could be heard over the buffering wind. Aragorn swore and turned his horse back down the hill, urging him into a gallop. He had to reach Helm's Deep to warn the King.
The early mists of morning were fading when the stone fortress came into view. The man sighed in relief and exhaustion, he had rode through the night, occasionally slumbering on Brego's neck. He gave the horse a kind pat and slowed his pace as they crossed the wide plain in front of the keep. As he approached he heard shouts from the watchtower's above. Men ran back and forth announcing the rider. Orders were given from within and the great gate swung open, allowing Aragorn admittance into the stronghold. Several of Théoden's warriors were sat in the courtyard and they rose in surprise. "My lord Aragorn, we are relieved to see you alive!" one of them exclaimed as he came to take the horse's reins. "Many of us thought you dead!"
"And thank the gods that I am not. Please, have you seen my companions? Did they survive the attack?"
"Yes, they returned with us from the hillside. I believe they have been staying in the main hall, near the top of the Hornburg. The King is there as well," explained the man. Aragorn thanked him and was about to turn towards the steps when a movement in the surrounding crowd caught his attention. The people were quickly parting and looking down at something as it made its way towards him. As it got closer Aragorn caught snatches of dwarvish cursing.
"By my beard, that laddie, he won't be undead for long!" growled Gimli as he finally broke free from the mass of people. His eyes fell on Aragorn and he stopped for a moment, dumbfounded. "You!" He ran towards his friend and collided with him, hugging him around his middle. "Bless you laddie, we had given you up! You've got some luck in you yet!" Aragorn chuckled and embraced the dwarf tightly.
"I am glad to see you Gimli, I'm also interested as to where you learned to swear so profoundly." He grinned. Gimli laughed, his eyes bright. "But tell me, where is the King for I must speak with him."
"He is in the main hall, with his counselors. He has refused any of our advice."
"And the others?"
"Ah yes, the elf should be there as well, I'd like to see his face when he sees you!" said Gimli mischievously.
"What of Eredhel?" asked Aragorn and he noticed that his friend's face became somber before he caught himself and tried to cover it with a smile.
"Yes, the lass is somewhere in there." The dwarf nodded in the direction of the stairs and Aragorn took them two at a time, unease growing in his stomach. In the main hall, men bustled from table to table, looking over charts and checking swords. Women huddled together with children, baskets of belongings and food in their laps. Éowyn rose from where she sat, amazement on her face but Aragorn did not notice her. He spotted a head of gleaming blond hair and rushed towards the opposite end of the room. The elf's head was bowed deep in thought, his arms crossed over his chest. Aragorn tapped him on the shoulder and Legolas turned, a smile lighting up his fair face.
"You, are quite late," he said seriously. Aragorn grinned and clapped him on the shoulder as Legolas' eyes narrowed critically. "My, you look awful!" They both laughed.
"I'm afraid near death experiences can do that to us mortal men, I am sore and weary."
"Well I may have something that will lighten your spirits," said Legolas as he reached to his belt. When he opened his hand, Aragorn saw a gleaming pendant in his palm. His breath caught and for a moment he was speechless with gratitude. "Do not lose hope, my friend."
"Thank you, you have no idea..." Aragorn started but Legolas shook his head.
"There is no need. I would ask how you survived but I sense you have more pressing matters to attend to."
"Yes, but I had expected Eredhel would be with you, where is she?" asked Aragorn and his friend's usually light eyes darkened. Aragorn's grip tightened on his shoulder. "Legolas, is she alright?" he insisted.
"Eredhel is here. She spent the night in the cliffs above the Hornburg and returned in the early hours of the morning. Since then she has remained in the chamber off the hall. No one but Gimli and I have dared to enter for she is stricken with grief," Legolas said and Aragorn could see it hurt him to see her in such pain.
"Théoden can wait, I'll speak with her," said Aragorn. He nodded and made his way to the great wooden door. He hesitated then slowly pushed inward. It creaked on old hinges but the lone figure seated in the room did not look up. Eredhel was nestled on a ledge in the wall, her head in her hands. Dust motes floated through the dim light cast by the window.
"I told you Gimli, I am not hungry." Guilt filled Aragorn and he took a few steps towards her.
"If now is not a good time I can come back later," he said softly. He heard a sharp intake of breath and Eredhel looked up at him fearfully.
"She probably thinks she's gone mad," he thought grimly. "Your eyes do not deceive you," he assured her. "Eredhel, I am so sorry." In a few swift strides she was in front of him, her eyes wide. Aragorn tensed, unsure whether or not she was going to hit him. A second later his fears were diminished when she threw her arms around his neck.
"Úboe mellonin, (it is not necessary my friend,)" she said quietly. Aragorn took a deep breath as the familiar scent of Rivendell and forest air filled his nose. Aragorn held her at an arm's length and she saw something flicker behind his eyes when he found her face. "What is it?" she asked.
"Hmm? Nothing, nothing I am simply quite worn from the ride," he answered.
"Don't lie to me, I have known you far too long," Eredhel insisted. The man sighed and his brow bent, as if under a heavy weight.
"For a few seconds, you looked just like your sister. I had a dream of her before I woke, it seemed so real. It is hard to face the long road ahead knowing that she will not be waiting for me at the end." Eredhel placed a comforting hand on his arm, sadness filling her face.
"Have hope, she has not yet departed. I do not believe the love you share can so easily be forgotten," she assured him. He gave her a small smile then took a deep breath, fixing his lips into a thin line.
"I pray to the Valar that you are right. As for now, we must see King Théoden, I saw much on my way here from the river. We are very short on time." The elf nodded and they exited the dark room, making their way to the King's hall. They pushed open the heavy double doors and entered the long rectangular room. Four men were crowded around a table, examining a long scroll. Théoden looked up in amazement when his eyes came to rest on Aragorn.
"I do not know what gods there are Lord Aragorn, but I do believe that you have their favor," he said.
"Yes, indeed. Let us hope that it will be shared with you for I come with ill news," answered Aragorn and the King turned serious.
"It cannot be much grimmer than that which we already know. Please, speak." The Ranger took a deep breath and closed his eyes briefly, organizing his thoughts.
"I rode here from the river where I fell. On the way I came across the host of our enemy and I am afraid to say that we greatly underestimated their numbers. If I were to guess, I would say ten thousand strong, at least." The men at the table looked at him in shock as the odds of their victory sank before their eyes. Eredhel leaned towards her friend, keeping her tone even.
"I am going to find Legolas and Gimli, they should be here," she muttered. He nodded and she excused herself to find their friends. The elf and dwarf were out in the main hall, Legolas leaning against a pillar and Gimli standing next to him. They were observing the work of the soldiers with vague interest but looked over as she approached them. "Aragorn is meeting with Théoden, he says he saw Saruman's army on his ride here."
"Of what number?" asked Gimli.
"At least 10 000," answered Eredhel grimly, lowering her voice.
"10 000?! What is the King's plan? He can hardly hope to withstand such an army," whispered Legolas. He noticed that the elleth's eyes had regained some if their former brightness and his heart lightened.
"I know, I am afraid that his grief and pride may cause him to be, ah, alasaila (unwise)," said Eredhel, switching to her native tongue so as not to spread doubt among any soldiers who might overhear them.
"What did she say?" Gimli pulled on her elbow, uncomprehending of the elvish word. Legolas bent and murmured in his ear before straightening and looking the elleth in the eye.
"Well, we should join them then, to see what has been decided." The other two agreed and they crossed the room to the King's chamber. They entered silently and Théoden acknowledged their presence with a curt nod.
"This is more than we thought but even so we shall endure them. Let them come, they will crash upon our walls like water on stone!" he said determinedly and turned to one of the men beside him. "Have a meal ready for a half hours' time, we must first review the battlements." The man nodded and headed off towards the kitchen. Even in times of war a proper supper would be prepared for the King and his men. Théoden indicated for the others to follow him and they exited the hall and continued out to the main wall.
"My lord, Helm's Deep is strong but the wrath of Isengard will have its full strength. Saruman is not sending his troops to burn your homes and crops, he is sending them to kill your people. Every last one of them," said Aragorn. The King turned towards him, frowning.
"And what would you have me do? The hope and courage of my people grows more fragile by the hour. There is nowhere to run, it is here we will make our stand."
"But strength lies in numbers, you must call for aid," insisted Aragorn.
"Aye," agreed Gimli, "with help you could crush the monsters that would destroy your lands and people!"
"And where would I send word? Who would come? The dwarves are far away in their mountains, and as for the elves..." he practically spit the word out of his mouth as he glared at the two of the Eldar.
"Gondor will come, long has an alliance lasted between you, two of the greatest cities of Men," answered Aragorn.
"Gondor? Where was the White City when the Westfold fell? When our villages were burned and pillaged? They looked on and did nothing! No my lord Aragorn, we are alone and we alone shall win this battle." Théoden turned his angry eyes to Gamling and continued in a calmer tone. "All men and lads able to bear arms must be brought to the armory, no exceptions. Also get the women, children and those too feeble for battle to the caves. Make sure Éowyn goes with them." Gamling and several guards bowed and took a left down the steps. Théoden's group had now reached the wall for archers and could see that slots in the stone were now being filled with arrows.
The preparation for battle was familiar to Eredhel, and she resented it. The flapping of banners, the weeping of women being parted from their sons and husbands, the clang of swords and spears being stacked in crates. The worst however was the taste of hot metal in the air, one that would change to the saltiness of blood once the fighting started. She closed her eyes briefly, taking a deep breath before she turned to the King. "So you would not ask for help when the fate of your people hangs in the balance? You would allow your own doubts to prevent you from gaining allies?"
"Mind your tongue, Varyor. I do not chance the lives of my people so recklessly. The alliances are dead, we have no one," he growled. Eredhel glowered at him until he sighed, his expression softening. "That is my decision, we will send no riders." He turned away from them and went to speak with one of his captains, leaving them in grim silence until finally Gimli spoke.
"Well, we may as well get something to eat, leave the stubborn king to his men."
"Aye Gimli," agreed Aragorn, "let us return to the main hall."
The eve of battle meal was a thick stew, with beef, potatoes and carrots. The long benches were filled with men, taking a short rest after their long day's work. The four companions found an empty table near the center isle and Gimli and Aragorn went to fill their bowls. The elves stayed seated, noticing the glances that were occasionally thrown their way by the villagers. The strange group that had arrived and freed their King had been greatly talked about and of the most interest were the two Eldar, who seemed to have come from a completely different world. Legolas poured them both a cup of wine as their friends rejoined them. Gimli had just started to tear a hunk of bread from the loaf in front of him when the King entered and silence fell on the hall. Théoden strode to the head table and poured himself a large mug of mead, raising it to indicate a toast.
"To the courage and strength of our people," he began as everyone raised their cups. "May Isengard regret the day they challenged the might of the Rohirrim." Eredhel saw Éowyn across the hall and noticed her lip was trembling. "To the blood that will be spilled in the name of Rohan! To victory!" Several of the men cheered and everyone took a heavy drink, except for Eredhel. She felt sick as she watched the men pound each other's backs, a gleam in their eyes. The bravado would be temporary, the words of their king would soon be forgotten. Eredhel's eyes narrowed, Théoden knew just as well as she did that they stood little chance against the army of Saruman. Men were so quick to battle, placing more worth on power than on wisdom. The King felt her gaze on him and turned his head to meet the piercing grey eyes. She looked away when she felt a tug on her elbow.
"Eredhel?" Legolas followed where her eyes had been looking and he understood. She raised her drink, drawing the attention of Aragorn and Gimli.
"To glory and honor!" she said in mock elation. She downed the wine and slid the cup down the table in disgust before turning away and exiting the supper hall. Aragorn shook his head and ran a hand over his face.
"The lass doesn't seem very fond of any of this," observed Gimli.
"No, she is not," agreed the man. "Pain and loss burned any excitement she had for battle out of her long ago. She has seen far too many fools send their men to war only to perish in hope of victory. Powerful leaders can often be proud to a fault."
"Aye, they can be. Théoden would rather have his people meet a glorious end than flee from his enemies," added Legolas.
"But where would they run? The mountains are overrun by orcs and goblins, Gondor is days away and there is no guarantee it would provide them safety. All the King can do is what he believes to be right and we will have to fight for him even if we believe he is wrong. Come, I would prefer not to linger here for any more speeches. Théoden said there would be mail and such left for us in the chamber off the armory." The other two nodded and followed him out the double doors then took a left down a long wood paneled corridor. Their footsteps echoed off the stone floor as they arrived at the entrance decorated with a great carved sword. They pushed them open and entered the dim room, allowing the doors to shut behind them. The ceiling was high and thick rafters creaked above them. A long table ran along the length of the wall to their right and on it were three small piles of gear. There was room made for a fourth but it seemed its owner had already been there. The three companions went to the bench and began separating the plated armor.
For Aragorn there was a shirt of chain mail and strong belt for his sword and knife. Legolas had been given thick leather shoulder pads, the elves wearing lighter dress than men or dwarves. As for Gimli, a proud war helm sat on top of his heavy linked armor. He turned the helmet over in his hands with delight and was about to try on the shirt when a soft voice spoke from the corner. "There will be rain tonight." Gimli jumped and swore as he nearly dropped his axe. Aragorn and Legolas' eyes flew to the rafters.
"You blasted, sneaky, pointy-" Gimli seemed too angered to go on, even more irritated for allowing the elf to startle him. Eredhel slipped down one of the beams, her feet landing lightly on the ground. Her battle garb consisted of only a sleeveless shirt of diamond shaped plates which fit snugly over her navy tunic, the cold grey of the metal matching that of her eyes. There was no starlight in them tonight, they were dark and determined.
"The sky shall weep for the fallen," said Legolas quietly. At that moment they heard a door swing open in the adjacent room. Dozens of footsteps tramped on the floor.
"It must be the final outfitting," said Aragorn. "Let us see what men Théoden has to defend his keep." They exited the chamber into the main armory and found it packed with villagers. There were men, elderly and young alike. The oldest were bent and shaky on their feet, the youngest no older than eight summers. Legolas looked around at their faces as Aragorn went to speak with one of the commanders. Their gazes held no fire, no gleam of hope. They reminded him of the birds that hid from the spiders in Mirkwood, helpless and afraid.
"There are young ones of my folk who have seen more battle than these men. They are farmers and stable boys, they were not bred for war," muttered Gimli from beside him and the elf nodded as Aragorn rejoined them.
"I fear you are right," the man agreed. "Many have seen too many days on this earth or too few."
"Yet Théoden sends them to fight," said Legolas angrily. "It takes not the senses of my people to see that they are frightened. The Orcs will smell their fear, they will have them bathe in it before the moon rests."
"Legolas." Eredhel's hand reached for his arm as the room fell silent and the men turned towards him.
"Alelmenda, neled herain dan caer menig! Guruthos tolo! (No wonder, a few hundred against ten thousand! The shadow of death is coming!)" He continued.
"Si beriathar hyn ammaeg na ned Edoras. (There is more hope for defense here than at Edoras)" Aragorn argued.
"Legolas, Aragorn an ngell nîn, daro!" (Legolas, Aragorn enough, stop!)," interrupted Eredhel, her forehead creasing in a frown.
"Nedin dagor hen ú-'erir... ortheri. Natha daged dhaer! Men yando! (They cannot win this fight, they are all going to die! And so are we!)" Legolas exclaimed. Aragorn saw the Prince's eyes flicker to Eredhel gripping his arm and suddenly understood his friend's anger and fear. He was afraid to lose her. But his own frustration welled in his chest and his face hardened.
"Then I would be proud to die as one of them! There are certain fates which cannot be fought!" he growled. Aragorn turned from his companions and stormed away, the men parting for him. Legolas tried to go after him but Eredhel held him back, pushing against his chest. Gimli patted his elbow and a heavy sighed was released from his lips.
"You stay here, this is not the time to be at each other's throats," Eredhel growled. Legolas looked at her hopelessly, unable to tell her where his fear was seeping from. Her face softened and she sighed. "I'll find Estel, he is troubled." Legolas watched her go, following the path of the Ranger.
"It'll be fine laddie," said Gimli gruffly. "We just have to last the night, until Gandalf rides from the East."
"I hope that we will, for all our sakes," said Legolas. Fifteen minutes later they returned to the side chamber to find Eredhel and Aragorn sitting side by side on the table. The man was tightening his belt while Eredhel retied her black bracers. He twisted around, trying to find his sheath before a hand brought it to his lap. He looked over at Legolas, a small smile brightening his face. Eredhel and Gimli quickly went to the corner, pretending to be arguing about the superiority of an axe over a bow.
"Forgive me, this place is wrought with despair. You would not lead us astray, my words betrayed my heart," apologized Legolas, just loud enough that only the man could hear.
"I share your worry," replied Aragorn as his eyes once again flicked to the elf in the corner. "But there is nothing to forgive, honesty is welcome council among friends." The pair grinned but their further conversation was interrupted by the blaring of horn from the watchtower of the keep. The companions slowly turned towards the door as another blast sounded.
"So it begins," said Eredhel softly, grasping Gimli's shoulder.
"Aye," answered Aragorn. "So it begins."