The plains of Rohan stretched before us, waves of grass swaying in the wind. I could feel Boromir's weight shifted slightly on my back, but I ignored it. We had been traveling for six days now, our supplies were gone, and our energy was stretched thin. Boromir was still too weak to walk.
He was asleep his arm draped around my shoulders, his hand gripping my tunic weakly. He hadn't spoken much in the past few days. His strength was returning, but slowly. I glanced ahead. I could see Edoras now, the seat of power in Rohan, resting on a hill in the distance.
Boromir stirred on my back, his voice hoarse. "Are we close?"
"Closer than we were yesterday," I replied, keeping my tone light. "Just hold on a bit longer. we're almost there."
He nodded weakly, his head resting against my shoulder. I felt a pang of something, sympathy, maybe, or guilt. Boromir was a proud man, and carrying him like this must have been a blow to his pride, but there was no other option.
We had spent a week tracking through the wilderness, at last, we were nearing Edoras. The wind picked up as we continued our approach, whipping through the tall grass, carrying with it the scent of horses and woodsmoke. Edoras was still some distance away, but it was a good sign. Civilization. A place to rest. A place where Boromir could recover properly. And I could fucking eat something.
"You're quiet," Boromir rasped from my back. "Thinking about something?"
"Always," I muttered. "Mostly hoping we eat something once we reach the city."
He chuckled softly, though the sound was more like a dry cough. "You and me both. though I could go for a drink first."
We continued in silence for a while, the rhythmic crunch of my boots on the dirt road the only sound. The plains were vast and open, and the wind carried no smell of ork's. The good thing about plains like this was I could see if anyone was coming.
After what felt like hours, we finally reached the gates of Edoras. The guards stationed there eyed us warily, their hands resting on the hilts of their swords. They were clearly on edge, and I couldn't blame them.
One of the guards stepped forward, his eyes narrowing as he looked us over. "Who are you, and what is your business here?"
I straightened, adjusting Boromir on my back. "Travelers," I said, keeping my tone neutral. "We've come from the forest. My companion is injured, and we seek aid."
The guard's gaze shifted to Boromir, and recognition flickered in his eyes. "That man… He's from Gondor, isn't he?"
Boromir stirred, lifting his head slightly. "Boromir, son of Denethor," he said, his voice weak but clear. " We have been on a long journey."
The guard hesitated, glancing at his comrades, then back at me. "You fought for Gondor. That is something, at least. But these are dark times, Follow me."
I nodded, grateful that he didn't press further. We were led through the gates, into the city of Edoras. Houses made of wood and thatch, people bustling about, but there was an underlying tension. The air was thick with unease, as though everyone here was waiting for the hammer to fall. Soldiers were preparing,and many people resting on the road looked tired and weak. There was a sense of urgency, of preparation for something big.
We were led to the Golden Hall of Meduseld, "these look too much like the homes of Nords...." I said, clicking my tongue in annoyance.
As we approached, I noticed a group standing outside, and my heart skipped a beat. Aragorn, Legolas, and Gimli were there.
I smiled as my eyes locked onto Aragorn's, and he blinked, clearly just as surprised to see me. Legolas and Gimli looked just as shocked. But Boromir, who had been barely conscious on my back, slowly raised his head.
"Aragorn?" Boromir's voice was rough, but there was disbelief in it. "Legolas? Gimli?"
Aragorn stepped forward, his eyes filled with relief and Joy. "Boromir, Ellehish," he said, rushing to help me with Boromir. "Im glad to see you both made it."
"Im glad to see you all as well," I replied, shifting Boromir's weight as Aragorn helped him off my back and helped him stand.
Legolas stepped forward, his eyes assessing Boromir's condition. "You look better," he said softly. "It is good to see you."
Gimli grunted, crossing his arms over his chest. "Aye, we thought you both got lost on your way here. Good to see your both in one piece."
Boromir managed a weak smile, Aragorn helping him to stand. "You should rest," Aragorn said firmly. "We'll find you a place inside."
But before Boromir could respond, I felt something in the air. A shift. A presence. And that's when I saw him.
I blinked, thinking my eyes were playing tricks on me, but there was no mistaking the figure approaching from the hall. Clad in white, his staff gleaming, his eyes piercing. Gandalf.
My heart stopped. As I rushed forward and Hugged the old man tightly. Boromir, too, his eyes widening in disbelief. "Gandalf?" he whispered, his voice barely audible. "But… how? You....."
Gandalf smiled, his expression calm as he hugged me tightly back as well. "I have returned, Boromir. Much has changed since we parted ways in Moria."
I knew he would come back but that didn't stop me from being happy at seeing him. He gently patted my head like a grandfather would with a child.
Boromir, however, was still reeling. "You—how can you be alive? You fell."
Gandalf's smile deepened, his eyes glinting with some secret knowledge. "I was sent back, Boromir. My task is not yet complete. And yours was but thanks to this one you are yet with us. Well done Ellehish."
I stared at Gandalf, my mind racing. I smiled as I moved back a bit embarrassed at myself for doing that.
"What happened here?" I asked, changing the topic. "We've been in the wilderness for days. What's going on?"
Gandalf turned his gaze to me, his expression unreadable. "Much has transpired in Rohan. Saruman's influence has reached far. King Théoden was under a dark spell, but it has been broken. War is coming, Ellehish, and Rohan must prepare."
"War?" I repeated, Of course. Saruman. The Uruk-hai. It was all coming to a head, So this is where we were in the movie from what I remembered.
Aragorn nodded grimly. "We ride to Helm's Deep. The people of Rohan must be protected. They they have the best chance of survival."
Boromir swayed slightly, his face pale. "I will join the fight." He said his hands moving to rest on his sword.
Gandalf placed a hand on Boromir's shoulder, his gaze steady. "Rest for now. There will be time for fighting soon enough."
I stood there, my mind racing with what was coming. Helm's Deep. This would be my second War. If nothing else this was a good experience.
Gandalf's voice broke through my thoughts. "I must go," he said, stepping back toward his white horse, which had appeared as if summoned by his very will. "Look for my coming on the first light of the fifth day. At dawn, look to the east."
"I must go, you all must look for my coming, on the first light of the fifth day. At dawn, look to the east. " We all nodded, understanding the weight of his words. And then, with a final glance, Gandalf mounted his steed and rode off into the distance, leaving us.
I exhaled slowly, feeling the weight of the past days settling in. Boromir stood next to me, still leaning on Aragorn for support, but there was a spark in his eyes that had been missing for days.
"Come, Ellehish," Gimli's gruff voice pulled me from my thoughts. "We'll find something to fill our stomachs. Can't face a war on an empty belly, now can we?"
I nodded, grateful for the dwarf's practicality. The others had already begun moving towards the Golden Hall. Legolas and Aragorn were leading Boromir inside, speaking quietly among themselves. I followed, my legs aching from the journey, but the promise of food and warmth spurred me on.
The hall's interior was grand, though its simplicity reflected the rugged nature of the people of Rohan. Long tables stretched across the space, filled with warriors and townsfolk alike, their faces etched with worry, their movements hurried and tense. Yet, the smell of roasted meat and fresh bread filled the air, mingling with the scent of burning wood, and for the first time in days, I felt my stomach rumble in anticipation.
Gimli slapped me on the back, nearly sending me stumbling forward. "There's our spot," he said, pointing to an open space at one of the tables. "Let's eat before they send us off to war."
I smirked, following him as we made our way to the table. We sat side by side, and soon enough, a plate of food was set in front of me. Bread, meat, and a tankard of ale. I dug in, the taste of something other than dried rations or roots almost overwhelming in its richness.
Gimli ate with the enthusiasm of someone who hadn't seen food in days though, to be fair, neither had I. Between bites, he spoke. "I'd wager we'll be off to Helm's Deep soon enough. Saruman won't wait long to send his hordes after us."
I nodded, though my mind wandered to Gandalf's parting words. The first light of the fifth day. At dawn, look to the east. He was looking for the men that were exiled from here.
The sound of a chair scraping across the floor pulled me from my thoughts. Boromir, now seated at a nearby table, was speaking quietly with Aragorn. His color had returned slightly, and he even managed a weak smile when a cup of water was placed in front of him. I was glad to see him looking better.
After what felt like a brief respite, the doors to the hall creaked open, and Théoden himself entered. He approached our table, his gaze sweeping over us.
"Tomorrow, we ride to Helm's Deep," Théoden announced, his voice low but firm. "There is no time to waste. Saruman's forces are moving. Rest tonight, for you will need all your strength."
I exchanged a glance with Gimli, who simply nodded and returned to his food. Rest, yes. It seemed we never had enough of it. The ale was pretty good.
Once we finished eating, I stood and stretched, feeling the exhaustion settling into my bones. Outside the hall, the night had fully descended, stars scattered across the sky like silver dust. The people of Edoras were still moving about, preparing for what was to come, but I could see the strain in their faces.
"Ellehish," a voice called from behind me. I turned to see a stable hand leading a dark horse toward me. "This is for you. The king wishes for all who ride to Helm's Deep to be well-mounted."
I ran my hand over the horse's sleek coat, nodding in thanks. It was a fine animal, strong and steady. A good companion for the road ahead. I looked into its eyes as I gently pet it.
Gimli joined me outside, adjusting his axe as he eyed my new steed. "A good horse," he commented. "Though I prefer my feet on solid ground."
I laughed softly, mounting the horse with ease. "You'll ride, Gimli, even if I have to drag you onto a saddle myself."
He snorted, crossing his arms over his chest. "We'll see about that."
The night stretched on, and though I longed for rest, sleep didn't come easily. My mind was a whirlwind of thoughts of the journey ahead, of the looming battle. But there was no turning back now. Helm's Deep awaited, and with it, the storm that would decide the fate of Rohan.
[sorry short chapter today dont hate me]