Hi everyone! I cannot get over all the nice reviews you guys leave for me, they really make me want to write more! I'm also really sorry for any annoying notifications you've been getting because I've been doing spell checks and stuff and then replacing the chapters! Anyways happy holidays and I hope you enjoy this chapter, there should be another one coming relatively soon!
KingBoo9209: Thank you so so so much! I gave the OC a lot of thought before starting this story because I wanted it to be something a bit different!
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**"Mellonin I'm sorry, will you not ride with me?" Eredhel glared at the dark haired elf above her and turned away, her arms crossed over her chest. Nearby their friends chuckled, looking at the ellon with amusement.
"What have you said to her now Ivoron?" asked Amdiror with a grin.
"I simply told her that her words were unbefitting of a lady," replied Ivoron mirthfully. He was fully aware of how irritating his friend found such comments and was enjoying her anger. The elleth whipped towards him, a scowl on her face.
"Well if you wish me to be more ladylike then perhaps you should get down while I ride and you lead my steed," she snapped back. This earned a laugh from the others and she smirked. Ivoron rolled his eyes and Eredhel turned away, thinking she had won the argument. A moment later she was grasped around the waist and pulled into the saddle. Ivoron chuckled smugly as he flicked the reins and urged his horse into a trot to keep pace with the others.
"Do you ever not get your own way?" growled Eredhel from behind him.
"No, never," Ivoron replied. Eredhel sighed and shook her head, her anger melting away. He looked back at her and his face brightened when he saw her earlier irritation gone. "Oh good, you've forgiven me. I was afraid I would have no one to speak to for the rest of the ride."
"I'm sure you'd find someone," said Eredhel and he chuckled.
"Yes I suppose you're right, though you are my preferred conversational partner." Eredhel smiled at her friend's affection, thinking of the heated debates that so often arose between them.
"Ah, so that's why you've come on this journey with me. For mere conversation."
"I suppose you could say that. I have come in the interest of preserving said conversations because you see mellonin you have this odd habit of getting yourself into difficult situations. I could never live with myself if I didn't make sure you returned home in one piece."**
Eredhel's eyes opened, and she sighed heavily. She pushed the heavy blanket off of her and sat up, rubbing her hands over her eyes. Frustration settled on her and she rose, going to pour a cup of water from the metal pitcher on the table. The cold liquid cleared her mind and she replaced the cup, hesitating as she heard footsteps approaching her tent. She turned to see one of Theoden's guards push open the flap to her quarters. "My apologies my Lady, I do not mean to disturb you but the King has requested your presence."
"Did he say what for?" asked Eredhel, grabbing her hunting knife from the table and sheathed it at her waist. It was the middle of the night, what on earth did Theoden wish to speak to her about?
"No, he simply said it was quite urgent. I was supposed to come find you and then seek out Lord Aragorn."
"I see. Well you may return to your post, I can awaken him on my way."
"Thank you my Lady." The man inclined his head and then retreated, leaving her in silence. Eredhel exited the tent and hesitated, relishing the cool air on her face. Even at this hour there was much activity in the camp, as the men rushed to prepare for the next day. She wove between rows of tents as she sought out her friends quarters. When she lifted the flap she could see he was troubled, a grimace lining his face as he slept.
"Estel," she said, hoping his elven name would pull him out of it. Aragorn bolted awake, drawing his knife from beneath his pillow. A firm hand grasped his wrist, stopping the blade. His eyes searched in the darkness as he tried to steady his rapid breathing. "You'll find that weapons aren't much use against the monsters that lurk inside your head," said Eredhel as she took a seat beside him. Aragorn sighed, collapsing back onto the sheets. He ran his hands over his face, trying to remove the dream from his head. It had seemed so real.
"What are you doing here?" asked Aragorn, his heart calming with the presence of his friend beside him.
"I came to wake you. Theoden wishes to speak with us." The man looked at her in confusion, sitting up as resheathed his knife.
"What for?"
"His guard did not say but there is something stirring. I have felt it most of the day, but I cannot place exactly what it is," replied Eredhel. She rose and Aragorn followed her. Eredhel did not ask about the nightmare and he was grateful. They were silent as they walked through the camp and arrived at the king's tent. A guard lifted the flap and they stepped inside.
A hooded figure sat in a low chair across from Theoden, and Aragorn heard a sharp intake of breath from the elf beside him. He looked at her inquisitively but her eyes were fixed on the mysterious visitor. Aragorn noticed that her posture immediately straightened and there was sadness in her eyes. The King murmured something then turned to the newcomers, his face grave. "I will take my leave," he said before exiting the tent. The visitor then rose and pulled back their velvet hood, revealing long dark hair and steely eyes.
"Lord Elrond," breathed Aragorn, bowing his head in respect. Beside him the elleth was still silent, her face troubled.
"I come on behalf of one whom I love," he answered gravely.
"Arwen," whispered Eredhel, her hands clenching into fists. "She did not sail..."
"She is fading, the growing darkness weakens her and she has given up her will to hold the light of the Eldar," said Elrond. Aragorn's eyes widened in understanding.
"Then if the Ring is not destroyed, she will not last long," said Eredhel. "Do Elladan and Elrohir know of this?"
"Yes they do," replied her father. "She grew weak almost a fortnight after their departure. My messengers told me they had gone with the Dunedain who marched to join their leader. I spoke with them, and Halbarad just over an hour ago."
"My lord, I am sorry," began Aragorn but Elrond interrupted him.
"Do not apologize, I came here to return that which is rightfully yours." From beneath his cloak he drew a black scabbard, decorated with intersecting lines of silver. He balanced it between his two hands and Aragorn took it carefully, wonder entering his eyes.
"The blade that was broken," he said in awe. He drew the sword and it gleamed in the torchlight as he held it in front of him. With the light flickering on his face and the legendary sword he held, Aragorn resembled a king of old, proud and tall like Elendil.
"It is called Anduril, forged from the shards of Narsil. You are the only one who can save the White City. You will have to go to Gondor by a different road, to seek a weapon against the enemy," explained Elrond.
"The Paths of the Dead," whispered Eredhel hoarsely. Her father must have been truly desperate to advise them to take that pass through the mountains. It would be worse than Moria, the deadly darkness and spirits of lost souls would be suffocating. Her heart beat quickened at the thought of entering those caverns but her resolve hardened, she would follow Aragorn whichever way he chose.
"They are all oathbreakers," hissed Aragorn. "They betrayed my ancestors years ago how can I count on them now?"
"They will answer to you, the one who carries Elendil's sword. Offer to grant them rest if they now uphold their promise. You will have to leave immediately, there is no time to lose. Go, prepare your horse, I must speak with my daughter." Aragorn thanked him and turned to exit the tent but the Lord called out once more to him. "Estel, I have faith in you. You will see your kingdom renewed." The man hesitated at the elf's words then nodded and left the two elves in silence.
"You have been through much since we last met," said Elrond after a moment. Eredhel noticed that his eyes flicked to her covered wrist and she cursed her brothers for telling him.
"Elladan and Elrohir never could hold their tongues," she said wearily and her father chuckled.
"It is good that they didn't. May I see it?" he asked gently. Eredhel obliged and raised her arm, roughly pulling back the sleeve of her tunic. Elrond took her wrist in his hand and his long fingers gently probed the scar. Though it pained her Eredhel did not flinch, not wanting to worry her father. "It is a wound inflicted with hate and malice. What caused Saruman to do this to you?" he asked. Eredhel started at the anger in his eyes, never before had she seen such a fury within him. Her father's capacity for kindness had always amazed her. His parents and city had been taken from him when he was nothing more than a youngling, and he was raised by two of the sons of Feanor who sacked his home. He had been sundered from his brother when Elros chose the Gift of Men and now he was going to lose his daughter in the same way. Despite all of this he was never quick in anger or bitterness, his temper flaring only when one whom he cared for was in danger. Eredhel sighed, once again covering the scar with her sleeve.
"I would not tell him where the Ring was. I believe he grew frustrated when his ah- methods were unaffective."
"I am sorry, I should not have asked for his counsel when you were troubled by visions of battle. Had I not he may not have thought to use your fears against you. I know you were ever distrustful of him, I should have heeded your words."
"No adar, there was a time when Saruman was good and his power came from light and wisdom, you could not have foreseen his treachery."
"Yet his evil has injured you, in ways that cannot be seen with the naked eye. Too long you have sacrificed yourself for others, too long you have fought in horrific battles. I am already risking losing one child to this world, will you not sail?" There was no anger in his voice this time, only a gentle plea. Eredhel held his face in her hands, her grey eyes staring into the identical ones of her father.
"I cannot, I know you wish to protect me but I am not meant to go," she said softly. Her father sighed and closed his eyes, his lips forming a thin line.
"Very well, then I can only wish you luck and strength. Now go, Estel will be waiting." Eredhel embraced her father tightly and turned to leave the tent. "And Eredhel," he called just as she was about to lift the flap. "Protect your brothers." The elleth gave him a solemn nod and then departed, a small ache radiating through her chest. As she walked through the camp grounds her mind reached out for Legolas' presence, pushing aside the consciousnesses of the men and animals.
"Legolas," she said gently, thinking he was asleep.
"Yes melethen," he replied immediately, startling her.
"I thought you would be resting. You must wake Gimli and prepare to leave."
"No, my mind is troubled. Where are we going?"
"Are you alright? With Aragorn, he is taking a different path to Minas Tirith and the Rangers are going with him. It is a long story, I will explain when I see you," she answered.
"Yes, quite fine. I see, where are you?"
"I just left the King's tent. I have something to take care of before we leave. Let Aragorn know I will join you at the Dunedain's camp as soon as I can."
"Very well, I will see you at the edge of the forest." Eredhel was slightly perturbed at his abrupt words. His tone had been the same warm one he always spoke to her with and yet he did not seem himself. She wondered what could be wrong with him as she arrived at her destination. The tent was only a short ways away from the King's and candles were lit. She quietly raised the flap and peered inside, her eyes finding the young hobbit seated at the table.
Merry was running his fingers over his now sharpened sword and he looked up as the elf entered. "Eredhel, what are you doing here?" he asked, laying the blade on the table.
"We're leaving Merry," she answered and took the seat across from him.
"What do you mean?" he asked, his face clouding with worry. "Where are we going?"
"Gondor has great need, we need to take a different path to the city," Eredhel explained.
"Oh, I see. Well then let me get my things and we can be off," he said, rising to his feet.
"No Merry." Eredhel's voice was firm as she looked at him sadly. Realization dawned on the halfling and he sank back into his chair.
"Oh, you're not taking me with you."
"You serve King Theoden, you will ride with him. Be grateful, you will not have to take the Paths of the Dead."
"I do not feel thankful, though I know I should. I want to go with you! I feel of no use here, I want to fight like everyone else!" he insisted.
"I know," said Eredhel as she rose. "Do you trust me?"
"Yes," answered Merry. He thought back to when he had seen her for the first time in the Prancing Pony. At the time he had had his doubts about her motives but now he would trust her with his life, seeing as she had most likely saved it more than once. Never in a thousand years would he have guessed they would be standing together in a tent on the plains of Rohan.
"Good, then believe me when I say I will see to it that you are not left behind." Eredhel tousled his hair and then turned from him and exited the tent, leaving the confused hobbit to sort out exactly what had happened. His friends were leaving to follow their own path and he was alone, on his own in an army of men.
Eredhel sighed and inhaled deeply as she paused outside Merry's tent. She did not like leaving the hobbit to fend for himself but his place was with the Rohirrim. She did not know exactly what it was but Eredhel foresaw that he would play a vital role in the battle for the city. After a moment she gathered her thoughts and continued on through the maze of tents, stopping outside one made of bright red fabric. She slipped inside and blinked as her eyes grew accustomed to the near darkness.
A lone candle flickered on the table, casting a shadow on the sleeping woman. Eowyn's long blond hair was gathered over her shoulder and her breathing was slow and steady. "Eowyn, Eowyn," whispered Eredhel, trying to wake her. The woman bolted upright, her hand flying to her heart as she glimpsed the dark figure in the corner. "Do not be afraid, it is only me. I am sorry to intrude but I have little time and there is something important I must discuss with you."
Eowyn let out a sigh of relief as she recognised the elf. She passed a hand through her golden hair and sat up, swinging her legs over the edge of the bed. "What can I do for you my Lady?" she asked, her voice husky from sleep.
"My companions and I are leaving, King Theoden knows of this. We must take a different way to Gondor," she explained. Eowyn's brow furrowed in confusion.
"Lord Aragorn, he is leaving on the eve of our-I mean the men's march to battle?"
"Yes he is and don't try that act with me. I know you intend to join them, it is for that reason I came to see you."
"I am going to ride with them, I will not stay home to waste in a cage, doing nothing for the fate of my people. If you tell my uncle-"
"I don't intend on telling Theoden," interrupted Eredhel, her impatience getting the best of her. "You have just as much right as anything of them. However, I may mention the matter to Eomer unless you can do me a small favour," she said.
"What would you ask of me?" questioned Eowyn, wondering what on earth an elf could want from a human.
"You must take Merry with you." Her request momentarily stunned Eowyn but she quickly recovered.
"What do you-"
"King Theoden is not going to force any of his men to ride with Merry and he will not want the burden of having to worry about the halfling's fate. Merry wishes to fight, for his home and for his friends. My request is that you allow him to ride with you to battle and stay close to him," Eredhel explained. The blond woman stared at her for a moment before answering.
"I would be more than glad to have him with me," she answered steadily.
"Good," said Eredhel, her satisfaction evident. "May the stars watch over both of you, you have some part to play yet." Eowyn was about to question her prediction but the elf was already exiting the tent. The woman stared after her for a few moments before shaking herself and returning to bed.
Now that her errand was finished Eredhel hastily made her way back to her own quarters to fetch her things. She donned her sleeveless shirt of light armour over a black tunic, wanting to be prepared for their arrival in Gondor. The interlocking plates resembled the tear drop shape of dragon scales, so that the mail could move flexibly. She also donned the bracers her brothers had brought, tying them tightly around her forearms. Eredhel then grabbed her bow and quiver. Her sword was already sheathed at her waist so she slipped her other blade and old vambraces in with her arrows and the small white knife into her boot. Grabbing a small strip of leather she tied her hair into a ponytail to keep it out of her eyes. When she was satisfied she had not forgotten anything she blew out the candles on the table and left her tent for the last time. A few minutes later she was within sight of the Dunedain gathered beside the forest. They had been swift in packing up their things and their horses stood silent and still. Her eyes caught sight of the gleam of pale blond hair near the front of the group and she made her way through the men towards Legolas. He was wearing the shoulder guards he had been given at Helm's Deep and was standing with Aragorn and Gimli, his arms crossed over his chest. "There you are, did you have to go back to Rivendell to pick up a few things?" said Aragorn teasingly when he saw her.
"Don't worry sister, Estel seems to have discovered a sense of importance with that new shiny blade of his," said Elladan with a smirk. Their friends chuckled at his remark and Aragorn shook his head.
"Well my deepest apologies," said Eredhel. "I had a few small matters to see to."
"Very well, now that we are all here we may as well depart before we attract any more attention," decided Aragorn. Already a small group of Theoden's men was watching them from afar. The company mounted their horses and cast a last look over the encampment. Tents glowed in shades of red, gold and white, and they could see the sparks flying from the forges and cooking fires. In the darkness it was quite peaceful and they were not eager to depart from the sight of it. The path of the army of Rohan was one of courage and honour, while they were now going to face a much darker road. The forest loomed grim and shadowy ahead of them, the only sound the creaking of branches and rustling of wind in the trees. Finally Aragorn took a deep breath and started forward, pressing his heels to the flanks of his horse. Eredhel, Legolas, the twins, Gimli and Halbarad rode after him, with the rest of the Dunedain following in twos or threes behind them. As Eredhel looked back at the encampment a voice sounded in her mind.
"The men, they are watching us," said Legolas.
"They think Aragorn is deserting them, he inspired them to courage at the Battle of Helm's Deep and their hearts will be heavy without him."
"Indeed. Elladan and Elrohir said your father was here. They did not go into details but said he delivered Anduril to Aragorn."
"Yes, he also brought news of Arwen. She has not sailed, she is fading."
"I am sorry." She felt his sympathy through their connection and it comforted her.
"I knew she would not leave these shores, she loves Aragorn far too much. My father carries much grief, he knew of what Saruman did to me, he blames himself."
"He simply regrets seeing what that wretch did to you. As do I, that is why I could not sleep earlier," he admitted.
"Legolas, you need not-"
"No Eredhel, I hate to see you in such anguish. I wish there was something I could do to ease your heart." To his surprise she chuckled, shaking her head at him.
"Your mere presence eases my heart," she answered honestly. Legolas felt a smile pull at his lips at her affection. Even now he had not fully grasped that her heart was truly in his hands.
"Well then now you can be sure that I will not leave your side," he answered and saw her grin from beside him. Their conversation was interrupted when Gimli started grumbling from his seat behind Legolas.
"...into another blasted forest. I've had enough of trees and those other miraculous growing things to last me a lifetime," he muttered.
"For once I agree with you Master Dwarf," said Legolas, "I would rather be going almost anywhere else besides beneath the boughs of these trees." Almost immediately upon entering the shadow of the forest a fear settled on the company. The men gripped their reins tightly and the horses were reluctant to go on. They were silent as they rode on, no one willing to break the eerie quiet. Branches creaked and moss muffled the sounds of the horses' hooves. The wood was lit with a dim grey light and no animal stirred. Through breaks in the trees they could see the Dwimorberg looming above them and their hearts were heavy. They did not know for certain what awaited them within those cursed caves and even if they survived they then had to face the armies of Sauron. Hope and glory where now behind them, fear and peril now lay ahead.