The Family Line – Page 2

The Family Line Part 147 – Was Like a Dream

Part 147 – Was Like a Dream

Through the canyons up and down hills the three walked as early morning turned to midmorning. Eva led Theomin and Eleswith through the safe paths that led out of Dunland and into the Gap of Rohan. Not a cloud occupied the sky but the dust through the canyons obscured the distant hills so that none of the three travelers could see what was out of the canyon. Like a maze it was, turning this way and that as paths branched off going one way and another.

Quite a few times, Theomin wondered if Eva really knew where she was going, or if she was just as lost as he was. He dared not talk to her as he did not want to distract from her path finding, twisting and turning from one way to another. He feared distracting her with conversation would force her to make a mistake and get them lost. So he stayed quiet, not even to speak with Eleswith or make any kind of noise.

Through the remainder of the morning they all stayed quiet as they made their way through all the twists and turns of the valley before at last, near midday, they reached the opening of the valley, and the entrance to the Gap of Rohan.

“How could you remember such a difficult path?” Theomin had to ask as could not believe they were out of such a maze.

“It is an old poem my ancestors passed on from generation to generation,” Eva told Theomin. “We have been saying that and using it to pass through the hills and valleys and each of us know how it goes. All of the land, no matter if there are hills, trees, snow or grass, all of it has a song or a poem that goes with it. The land has its own personality and getting to know it through song and rhyme helps us remember and begin to get close to it.”

“I am only beginning to get to know your culture and the more I know of it, the more beautiful I see it,” Theomin said.

“I wish we can get to know the men of Rohan someday,” Eva lamented. “I am sure that such a culture also has a rich and beautiful history.”

“Goodbye, Eva,” Theomin hugged Eva as did Eleswith. “You have been a true friend to me and all my people. Have a safe journey home.”

“As should you, man of Rohan,” Eva said. “And Eleswith, you also have a safe journey to Dale. I know not much of your lands, only what I have heard in tales of dwarves. Be well and have a safe journey.”

The two left the company of Eva as the Dunlanding turned back toward the valley and they did not see her again. It took a few hours until the reached the first encampment of the Rohirrim. Theomin could see it off in the distance, flags flew high on their staffs inside the palisades of the outpost. The telltale signs of the shields of a white horse upon a green field began to come into view as they were the signs that Rohan was very near.

Once they reached the outermost edges of the outpost, Theomin felt uneasy about what he heard. Nothing could he hear. When there was supposed to be at least some chatter amongst his Rohirrim brethren, he heard not a sound from the inside. Furthermore, no sentries were posted on the watch towers above. They reached the gate of the compound and it was exactly as Theomin feared. It was completely deserted. Not a single man from Rohan occupied the place. It looked as though it was abandoned long ago as not even the smoke of a dying flame from the camp fires were lit. Water logged they seemed be from a long time ago as they were already dried out from the heat of many days of sun.

“They have not been here for a long time,” Theomin said. “It was as if it was abandoned.”

“Do you think they were attacked?” Eleswith asked.

“It would not seem it was,” Theomin had noticed. “All the tents are in good shape. The bedrolls are still intact and there is not a single sign of a fight. It is as if they just left.”

“But left where?” Eleswith asked.

“I know not and I feel not safe here,” Theomin said.

“Nor do I,” Eleswith agreed. “Let’s leave from here.”

The two continued from the Rohirrim outpost of Forthbrond and continued eastward until they could see signs of ruin in the distance. Blackened charred hills there was and the true signs of devastation began to show itself to them. The outpost that once had been set on a hill overlooking the River Isen had been completely and utterly destroyed. The tents were burned beyond recognition. The wooden palisades that ran the length of the perimeter of the outpost were broken down, burned and shattered. The ground that was once clean dirt with grass occupying only patches of the grounds of the outpost was all but grey and ashen. It was a waste, dead, devastated and Theomin as torn.

“What manner of terror did these people go through?” Theomin asked in an astonished whisper. “It is as if it is completely overridden.”

“I know not what could have done this,” Eleswith said just as astonished. “Not even an army of a hundred could have done this. This is not just from a small skirmish. This was a great battle and it looks like your friends lost.”

Theomin looked in the distance and as it did so, something there caught his eyes. It looked as though fear had gripped him as he ran down the hill and quickly mounted Bragga.

“Where are you going, Theomin?” Eleswith asked quickly. He did not answer so Eleswith did the same. She mounted Dale and rode off to catch Theomin as he rode his horse up across the river and up on an eeyot in the middle of the stream. There, amongst large rocks and shields of Rohan sat a memorial for a fallen king. But of who?

“Who is this for?” Eleswith asked.

“I know not,” Theomin said. “I know of the fall of Theodred as a rider told me of his demise. It cannot be of Theoden King as he was killed in battle in Gondor. I know not who this memorial is for.” Theomin looked up at the sky as the sun had already begun falling toward the westward sky. Evening was coming and with it, darkness. “We must continue eastward. Rohan on the other side of those hills there,” he pointed east toward a small gap between two hills. “There, we will find the fortress of Helms Deep. I hope her greatness still stands.”

They continued toward the gap between the two hills and out of the bleakness of the River Isen. Such terrible fates that befell on those men of Rohan but he feared that such a fate might have also fallen on the kingdom of Rohan and his home. Though in the dark pit of despair that his mind was going to, he had a light of hope that the King of Gondor’s words never mentioned the fall of his beloved home. Yes, he heard the death of the king of Rohan and the succession of Eomir, but that was all that he heard. So maybe, just maybe the land that he loved so much was spared from the terrors of evil.

At last, a year after he departed from his home in the Kingdom of Rohan, he took his first step on the soil of Rohan, his home. He breathed in the air of his land, smelled not yet like that of home. The pine smell that reminded him of home, was not yet the scent in the air yet. The scent of the land was more of the scent of a forest, tall trees that could have been uprooted and placed here on the lands. But that could not be.

The smell was not all that he tried to take in. He took in the flat green fertile lands of his land that was so common in Rohan. Sparse hills here and there occupied the land here and there surrounded by the White Mountains in the south, the Misty Mountains in the West, and the Anduin in the east. “The Anduin,” he thought to himself. Many a day was spent with his family fishing on the shores of the mighty river. It would soon be that he would again share in the love for his hobbies with Eleswith before she departed for home. But his reminiscing and wonderment of returning to Rohan had to come to an end. He and Eleswith needed to reach Helm’s Deep before darkness overtook them.

The sun was still showing its light in the sky when they reached what looked like Helm’s Dike. But it could not have been. The great statue of Helm Hammer Hand that stood atop the Dike was gone. The towers were gone and the gate had been burned down to nothingness. A terrible fate had befallen this place too as they crossed the once fortified hill of Helm’s Dike and faced a bitter truth. The fortress of Helm’s Deep had been attacked.

The first thing the two could see was the Deeping Wall that had stood and was a strong wall, was taken down nearby the Hornburg. Such a huge battle had to happen there. So terrible a fight it must have been. What could have destroyed that length of the Deeping Wall, so strong and thick a wall that it was, it seemed it should have been impenetrable. Not with a thousand of his small bombs could he blow such a hole in that wall.

The grounds of the Deeping Coomb, once filled with grass had become vacant of all life. Barren and dead it was. Small gusts of wind through the coomb blew loose top soil up into the air, only to signify how bleak it really was. It was as if life was torn from the land itself, ripped out from the soil so it would not be able to bear life again. What happened there?

As the two approached the gate, even that had been torn asunder as it was smashed open as some army of some kind had invaded the keep. Then the memory of the terrible blast that night in Forthbrond came into the mind of Theomin. The horrible sound that forced awake himself and all the others with its loud blast. It had to be the destruction of the Deeping Wall. The sounds of war were the sounds made by the invading army as it had thrust itself upon the Hornburg and tried to invade the keep.

Only a few remained as a garrison of the stronghold. A few were cleaning the keep grounds and repairing the fallen buildings. All who worked did so in silence. No women or children were present. All were men, soldiers who were apart of the garrison before.

“What happened here?” Theomin asked one soldier who was carrying a bundle past them.

“Can you not see, traveler?” the soldier said. “Helm’s Deep was attacked. We are now all that is left to tend to her wounds.”

“But was it not attacked long ago?” Theomin asked.

“Yes it was,” the soldier said, but suspicion flooded his face. “How do you know of the attack? Are you a servant of the enemy or a friend to Rohan?”

“I am no servant of the enemy,” Theomin said kindly. “I come from the Wold.”

“Why have you not been conscripted by Theoden to fight in the war?” the soldier said. “Most of the men of Rohan have gone.”

“I traveled north to Eriador for my own reasons,” Theomin said. “Why have you not gone to the war?”

“I and the others here are all that is left of the garrison after King Theoden and Aragorn left for war,” the soldier said. “It has been a long slog trying to repair Helm’s Deep. Not a soul has come and most of the men have left. Even the women and children have left for Edoras as that is now the safest place in this land. Its gates are now more secure than Helm’s Deep.” He looked around at the fortress, the walls and structures that lined the main concourse of the bottom level. “But she will once again be a great fortress again. She will again stand tall and proud, just as she has for the past ages. We will mine her blocks from Wid Isenmor and Mate Isenmor. Once it is mined, we will seal the walls and make her the great fortress that she was. I promise you.” He looked at the two travelers and came to his senses, “I am sorry, where are my manners. You must be starving if you have been traveling from Eriador. Go to the back of the keep. You will find the dining area there. You may have what ever you find there, which is not much. Our hunters will return soon with more food. For now, I believe we have a few baskets of bread and some water out of the Deeping Stream. Please, partake in our food as much time has passed since travelers have come through this land.”

The two walked the small walkway toward the rear of the Hornburg. Much reminded Theomin of the first time he came to the fortress. He remembered Keymel and the family he helped reunite. He remembered the girl who aided him in his quest to find the mother of that poor little girl. “Eashae was her name,” he said under his breath. It was as if it was not long ago yet a year had passed since his last visit to the fortress. All seemed like a dream from the time he passed into the Gap of Rohan.

His mind then went to a dark place. He remembered what the soldier said about the conscripting of soldiers for the battle. What of his family? What of his father who was still of age to serve in the king’s cavalry. What would come of all those who were strong enough and had a willing heart to serve? He had to ponder that for the remainder of his journey home.

The Family Line Part 146 – Once More to Avardin

Part 146 – Once More to Avardin

The next day, the couple of travelers had a late start. Theomin hoped to see Sylderan one last time before they departed for Enedwaith. After waiting until midmorning, and the warm heat of the sun beat down on the travelers from above the nearby mountain range, the two decided to depart from Echad Dunann.

Through the rest of the morning until noon, the two traveled south toward the river that separated the land of Eregion from the land of Enedwaith. Quickly, they forded the river, passing it from the shallowest point, passing over the small island in the center and then fording it from there until they passed on the other side. At last, they were in Enedwaith.

The two travelers then followed the windy valley between the two large impassable ridges on either side. It took a few hours for them to travel the valley of the Windfells and by late afternoon they reached the larger plains of Nan Laeglin. On the eastern side of the valley was the same tall Gondorian structure of Harndirion that he remembered on his two visits to the valley. On the western side was the northern Dunland village of Lhanuch, the
currently occupied village of the northern Dunlandings. The two traveled through the windswept plane to Lhanuch.

Only taking them less than an hour to reach, the two made it to the village. The guard at the front immediately recognized Theomin, as he had traveled there twice before. After a brief conversation with the guard, who was much more welcoming to Theomin than before, they were permitted to enter the village. As soon at they reached the top of the small hill of Lhanuch, they were approached by Suvulch, as he came to Theomin grabbed his hand in a welcoming handshake.

“Ah, davodiad,” Suvulch said happily, “welcome back to Lhanuch.”

“I am happy to be welcomed back by your guard,” Theomin said. “He seemed much more welcoming than the two other times I came through here.”

“He’s a softy,” Suvulch said. “Once you get to know him, he’s a real stand up man. Except when he drinks too much mead. Then he can’t stand very well at all, aye,” Suvulch said with a laugh.

“What happened with you and the guard?” Eleswith asked. “He seemed quite nice to me.”

“Oh, you don’t know the trouble that guard gave this guy,” Suvulch said. “Come on, I’ll treat you to a good meat supper and we’ll tell you all about it.”

“Great,” Theomin said with relief. “All we have had was salads for the past two days. Not to mention we skipped food in Ost Guruth.”

“Well, we have some greens if you like,” Suvulch changed his mind. “We can certainly skip the meat and just give ya some greens.”

“No!” both Theomin and Eleswith said.

“Meat is perfect,” Eleswith said.

“Great,” Suvulch threw his arm around Theomin and patted him on the back. “Come now, we’ve got some ox meat I’m sure you’ll enjoy.”

Over the next few hours until nighttime, Theomin and Suvulch talked about the last times Theomin came to Lhanuch and the terrible time he had with the guard. They laughed and they drank and ate their meat in a very spirited manner. They even enjoyed a few dancers entertain the them. The village was much livelier than it had been since Theomin last came through.

The last thing Theomin could remember from that night was Suvulch being much more serious as he patted Theomin on the back. “It looks like you did it davodiad,” Suvulch said.

“I did what?” Theomin asked confused.

“It looks like you united the Dunlanding tribes in a way Saruman could not do,” Suvulch smiled. “It was all going to work out in the end anyway. Saruman tried to unite the tribes through hate. You united them through a sense of urgency to stave off the coming evil. For that,” he held up his mug of mead, “I solute you.”

The rest of the evening was quick and they soon fell to a fast and restful sleep. With full stomachs and a hearty conversation, they all sank deep into sleep until the light shined through the next morning. They woke at he crack of dawn and left before much of the village was awake. Suvulch came to them before they left and gave Theomin one last handshake.

“If you ever come this way again, devodiad,” Suvulch said, “please visit our village. We owe you and all the devodiad a debt of gratitude.”

“I shall,” Theomin said.

With that, the two left the village and traveled south again. A half morning ride brought them through the Lich Bluffs and at the entry the Bonevales. Dark and bleak it was as that same mysterious fog had set into the valley. So again, like he did before, one last time, Theomin rose his staff and with a burst of light, he lit the way through the path of the Bonevales. With that, the two raced through the valley, bursting through the trail quickly. They looked not at any stones or high up places or cairns that occupied the sides of the trail. Their only thought was the sight in front of them as they kept their concentration on the path before them.

At last, they could see the end as the ancient Gondorian tower loomed up before them. It took only a few minutes to gallop through the entire span of the vale. As quick as it was, though, the end could not come any faster. The entire length of the span was far too long for Eleswith, who equated it to the same feeling she had in the Fields of Fornost. She breathed in a quick sigh of relief as a few Dunlandings came to them.

“Is it possible?” one of the Dunlandings said. “Is this the man named Fornost who united our clans together against our real foe?”

“Yes he is,” Eleswith said faster than Theomin could answer.

“Then let us bring you to Galtrev,” the Dunlanding said. “We must prepare a feast in your honor.”

“Nothing that grandiose,” Theomin said. “Only a meal and a bed to sleep in. Perhaps Avardin.”

“Of course,” said the Dunlanding. “But why would you not choose to have such a great feast in your honor?”

“I only choose a modest meal after such a long ride,” Theomin said as he was tired from his long ride.

“Can I at least let the leaders of the tribes know that you have arrived here in Dunland?” the other Dunlanding asked. “They would really like to know.”

“Of course,” Theomin said.

The two ran off down the hill to Galtrev as Theomin and Eleswith continued slowly down the hill.

“Why would you not want to have such a grand feast for us?” Eleswith asked. “They are more than happy to do so.”

“Did you hear him call me Fornost?” asked Theomin. Eleswith nodded but thought nothing of it. “They all believe I am from the north. They know not that I grew up in Rohan and I choose to keep it that way.”

“Why conceal were you are from?” she asked.

“The relationship between our nations has been tense for a long time,” Theomin said. “Rohan and Dunland have been at odds with each other for many centuries. When the men of the Rohirrim were given the lands of Rohan from Gondor, the Dunlandings were the tribes that lived in Rohan. They were driven out and forced to live here among the hills. The tensions were only made worse with the lies the traitor Saruman sowed in these lands. He turned the men of Dunland even further to hate with Rohan. I believe their hate came to a head in some kind of war because of a large Dunlanding army marching toward Rohan.”

“How do you know of this army?” asked Eleswith.

“On my quest to find my family, I passed through the Gap of Rohan,” Theomin recalled his journey. “On my way, I had to retreat to some cover as the army passed me by. Later that night, there the sound of some great battle and a sudden terrible explosion, far greater than any small bomb I made.”

“Then with that, how did you know to trust and befriend the Dunlandings?” Eleswith asked.

“I was injured on my way north by some orcs,” Theomin said with a smile. “Some of the Dunlandings from Avardin saved me. I owed them a large debt of gratitude. I would have died had it not been for them.”

“Then how did they come to trust you?” she asked.

They saw the village of Avardin coming up on the right side of the road. It looked as quiet as usual as its huts sprawled up the hill and the people of Avardin went about their daily routine.

“In my rage against the orcs,” Theomin said, “I inadvertently freed the path for the Dunlanding slaves of Saruman to return to their villages.”

It was then that a number of villagers of Avardin ran to the side of Theomin, welcoming him back to their village and yelled to him, “Welcome back, Fornost!” and “He has returned to us!” They walked the two travelers into the village as Eva came running to them with a delighted smile.

“You have returned!” she whispered with gleeful surprise. “Are you staying or passing through?”

Theomin remembered the pass to the Gap of Rohan and the problems he had there in the Gravenwood. The darkness of that forest fell on the heart of Theomin as he could not forget about how dark it was and the terrible specters that were seen there.

“We are stopping here for the night but need safe passage south,” Theomin said.

“What are you doing south of here?” one of the Dunlandings asked, his face was full of suspicion as if he knew they were traveling to Rohan.

Eva quickly responded on behalf of Theomin, “Fornost has decided to travel south to see the great cities in Gondor. He spoke of it during our last meeting in the city to the north. I just remembered his interest.”

The other Dunlandings, satisfied with her response, led Bragga and Dale to the stables as Eva remained behind with Theomin and Eleswith. “Thank you for covering for me. I knew not what to say.”

“They still revere you,” Eva said. “As do I. The foreigner who brought all the tribes together. He did not bring the tribes together for personal purposes for land or power. He did it to keep the father of evil at bay. Not even the great and powerful wizard Saruman could do that.”

Theomin blushed, “I appreciate your magnificent view of me, but I all I am is just a simple man who wanted to find his family.”

“Yes,” Eva said. “That is what you are. But here in Dunland and to the men in the north, you are far more than that.”

Through the remainder of the day, the men of Avardin made food for a modest feast for Theomin, as per his request. They served boar meat, ox meat, chicken, eggs and an assortment of greens, sauces and spices Theomin had never had never tasted before. Impressed with the amazing food, both Theomin and Eleswith asked for recipe which was happily given from the cook who was also gladdened by the interest his patrons had in his food.

As the night moved on, the leaders of each of the villages came to pay his respects to Theomin, each giving Theomin a small gift. Each was but a small trinket that they wanted to give to Theomin as a gift for his aid in their unification. Gifts from the leaders of the clans ranged from tools to idols carved of the boar clan to a necklace they adorned him with. Each asked if he would return to Dunland and each time Theomin would answer that he would if only to thank his new Dunlanding friends.

The ending of the night came as Eva came over to Theomin’s table. “Thank you, Fornost, for coming.” She looked around the area and then said, “Thank you, Theomin, for deciding to come to Avardin for your travel back home to Rohan.” Theomin only smiled and nodded. “Can I ask you a question, though, since I see the tribes have stopped coming and everyone has all but left.”

“Sure you may,” Theomin said with concern.

“Why did you choose to seek help from the people of Dunland?” she asked. “Why had you chosen us over any other people in Eriador?”

“A difficult question that is,” Theomin said. It took him a while to answer, but he finally did, “I suppose I saw a lot of strength in the Dunlandings. Above all, I knew Dunland had the numbers I really needed and for that reason, I would need Dunland’s help if we were to stave off the doom that was coming.” They sat for a while as Eva soaked in what Theomin said. She looked satisfied with the answer Theomin gave and somewhat relived as to what she heard.

“What is it?” Theomin asked. “Why did you ask such a question?”

Eva smiled and looked as though she did not want to answer. But for full clarity, she knew she needed to tell Theomin. “I was only afraid.” The look of Theomin and his companion only led to more confusion. “Being from Rohan, I was afraid you would have wanted to weaken us and then use that time to take out the men of Dunland. I know you would not do anything like that, that much is clear, but still in the back of my mind I was so afraid that was the reason.”

“I would never something so terrible,” Theomin said with astonishment. “If you knew me, my intentions have never been to harm the men of Dunland but to aid them. I am surprised you would say such a thing.”

“But it is not me who is saying it,” Eva tried to explain. “It is generations of Dunlanding hate for Rohan that is saying that. If it was not for my fathers and their fathers, I would not have ever thought of such a thing. Had you not the same fears of Dunlandings?”

Theomin looked down as he knew she was right. He nodded and continued, “Yes, you are right. Even my mother told me not to come through Dunland. But I did so anyway and found people who are extraordinary. I am glad I came this way. It is why I decided to come this way as I head south again.”

Eva’s heart was gladdened by what Theomin said. It then dawned on her what she wanted to say from the start. “Are you heading south from here?” Theomin nodded as he sipped some mead. “I would like to show you safe paths south of here to the Gap of Rohan. ‘Tis a much safer road than that of the Gravenwood, where you came from. Will you trust me enough to take you to the Gap of Rohan?”

The Family Line Part 145 – Namaarie

Part 145 – Namaarie

Still dark as the sun had not even set its beams of light on the horizon yet, the three started their journey further east. Not wanting to waste any time, they quickly got to their horses and left before any but the half-asleep sentries were awake. With their quickened paces, the three travelers reached the last bridge in only an hour as Theomin looked upon the last bridge again and remembered his journey up to Eriador.

He remembered the star that meant so much to him as it was shown on the carvings on the bridge. He also remembered the small camp he had next to the river on the other side of the bridge. As he passed it, his thoughts drifted to all the things he did up in Eriador after the bridge. The adventures he went on and the good people he met. He remembered the friendships he forged and the companions he kept as he looked at Aches. The Last Bridge was the last time he would be able to see off west so clearly. Sad, but exciting at the same time that he would be soon heading south, and away from the last sights of the north.

It took most of the day to wind around the many twists and turns of the Trollshaws. The tall trees with their large canopies obscured the sky, yet they could still tell it was daylight because of the light filtering through the leaves of the trees.

Throughout the day, they were almost able to track the path of the sun through the trees and by the time it descended on the eastern horizon, they were approaching the ruins of the outpost of Echad Candelleth. There, Sylderan went to greet Candelleth who was still at her outpost watching out on the tall cliff, keeping her razer sharp elf gaze on the valley where the Bruinen flowed through. Sylderan soon returned to the two other travelers.

“It looks as though it is okay to remain here for the night,” Sylderan informed them. “If you would like, I can have a special meal prepared for you.”

Being hungry because of the lack of food from Ost Guruth, Theomin and Eleswith were starved. They said yes to anything the elves were to offer. So they had their meals on the second level of the ruins. It was mostly greens and some bread the elves baked up from Rivendell and brought over the day before. It was a quiet meal as Eleswith and Theomin were so hungry they stuffed the food in their mouths. The elves who watched from nearby shook their heads in the way only an elf would do. As if they were saying with their gestures, “Typical of man.”

Soon, another elf came to Theomin, “The lady Candelleth would like to speak with you, Theomin. Please, come with me.”

Uncertain as to why the lady wanted to speak with Theomin, he looked at Eleswith confused. He did so anyway and followed behind the elf who led him to the cliff overseeing the valley. She continued to look out on the revene below as she began to speak with Theomin.

“It has been long since you traveled here through our outpost,” the lady elf said. “I hear much of what you have done. None more-so than what you have voluntarily given up. The jewel that was so precious to us as elves has finally returned to us. I wanted to personally thank you for that. Yet I am confused. Why did you give it up so freely?”

“Because my path was complete,” Theomin said. “I saw no need to bare it as I wanted nothing more than to leave.”

“Then you did what centuries of men and elves and dwarves could not,” Candelleth said. “You brought the two purposes of the Amar Calad together. It was a gift to the elves from Celebrambor along with the other two jewels for men and dwarves. They were then taken by Isildur and used as badges to give to the Marshalls of Annuminas. As great of a gesture as that was for his men, those were jewels that were only meant as gifts to the three races to show their friendship and kinship they shared with one another. With your wisdom and selflessness, you brought the two uses of the Amar Calad together. Again, thank you for what you have done for my people. It may seem like a small gesture of good faith on your part, but it means much more than to us elves.”

“I knew not that it meant so much to you,” Theomin said. “I am glad to have made the right decision.”

She turned to look at Theomin, “For my part, all I can do is in turn give a gift to you for the generous gift you gave my people,” Candelleth said. “A small shard of a much larger geode that was found along with the gems of the Amar Calad and given to us by Lord Celebrambor. Its properties are great and yet seems a purely insignificant rock. But I promise you, this geode I am giving you is special and that is all I will tell you. The rest you will figure out on your own.” The elf lady turned to again watch the gorge. “You may return to your friends. That is all I have for you.”

“Thank you, my lady,” Theomin said. He turned to head back to his friends but turned to look at her. But she was not there, she had disappeared. All the elves that were occupying the ruins had also disappeared. It was empty.

Theomin, confused as to what had just happened, turned to go to his mates who were still gleefully eating their food. “Do you know what just happened?” Theomin had to ask.

“What are you speaking of?” Elesiwith asked. “We have been eating here while you disappeared.”

“All the elves have gone,” Theomin told his friends. “What happened to them, Sylderan?”

“All the elves?” Sylderan asked. “There have been none here.”

“But what of Candalleth and her elves?” Theomin asked.

“What elves? They have gone long ago,” Sylderan said.

“Are you feeling fine, Theomin?” Eleswith asked. “Are you becoming delirious?”

Theomin looked around. He could not have been dreaming the whole thing. He looked in his hand and there was the small shard of the geode that was given to him by Candelleth. “See here?” Theomin held out his hand. “This is a shard that was given to me from the lady Candelleth. You cannot say it was all a dream because it is not.”

“Perhaps you will need rest,” Sylderan said. “The journey has been long and the pains of hunger has been taking your thoughts.”

“But it was not a hallucination,” Theomin protested. “I witnessed all of this take place. She thanked me for returning the Amar Calad to the elves. I could not have imagined it.”

“Then if it was her,” Sylderan said, “remember that elves work in mysterious ways. Perhaps it was her and if it was, you are lucky to have set eyes on her once more. It is very special and it should remain in your heart.”

“Then I am not becoming crazy,” Theomin wanted to acknowledge.

“No, Theomin,” Sylderan said. “You are not.”

Morning had not yet come when the three decided to set off south. They left the abandoned ruins in the Trollshaws and descended the steep slope toward the Bruinen and crossed the river. They soon ascended the slope up and across the path up toward the lands of Eregion. Finally, they were on Sylderan’s final leg with Theomin and Eleswith.

Through the day, the three traveled the warn paths of Eregion as they led through the forest of Holly trees in High Hollin as the light of the sun burned red through the red buds of the Holly leaf. It cast a reddish tinge on the ground as the three made their way toward Low Hollin. But soon, as the midday sun rose to its peak, they had already left the small forest of Holly Trees and were making their way to the ruins of Echad Eregion and Barad Morlas, the elven ruins south of Echad Eregion.

“Do you remember this place?” Theomin asked Sylderan.

“I do indeed,” Sylderan said. “This place I saved you from the half-orcs. It was a banner day for us indeed as we had left the Mines of Moria not long before that.”

He told Eleswith the story of how he came about meeting Sylderan and how they saved Theomin from the half-orcs in Barad Morlas. He told how he was ambushed by them and felt he feared death and would have died had it not been for Sylderan and the Twilight Company.

By the time Theomin was finished with his tale, they had left the trail that seemed to fade off into nothing but still headed south. By late afternoon, they met up with another trail that headed off Eastward.

“This is the trail that leads to the gate of Hollin and the elf outpost of Echad Dunann,” Sylderan said with apparent wonder in his voice.

The three continued eastward toward nearby mountains. They shined bright red in the diminishing sun as it lowered its descent yet again in the west. The trail continued up into the foothills of the Misty Mountains and finally the elf outpost of Echad Dunann was in sight.

The outpost was quite small, with only a small set of ruins surrounded by trees and were being occupied by elves nearby a small hill. Some of the elves came to the tree travelers, one coming to Sylderan, “Mae Govannen,” one of the elves said to him. He then looked at the other two companions and said to them, “Welcome to the elf outpost of Echad Dunann. If you are traveling through Moria, I would like to advise you against it. There are still many dark things that dwell in those deep caves.”

“They will not be traveling through Moria, Thandelen,” Sylderan said to the elf who greeted them. “They will continue south, but I wanted to part here so I may see Corurien one last time.”

“Ah, she has missed you and spoke of you much since the last she saw you,” Thandelen said. “But I am afraid she has taken supplies to the Durin’s Threshold at the mouth of Moria.”

Sylderan then turned to Theomin and Eleswith. “If I want to go to her before sun down, we must part then.”

“So soon?” Theomin said. “I hoped to at least have a final meal together to show my gratitude to your aid. You saved me two times from danger. I just wanted to thank you for that.”

“But Theomin,” Sylderan said as he placed a hand on Theomin’s shoulder, “You saved me from the brink of death. That gesture was more than enough to me. If it had not been for you, my final resting place would have been in Dunland at the base of that tower on the hill. Now I know I have many more days ahead of me. It is you who should be thanked.” Thandelen placed a hand on Sylderan’s shoulder. He then spoke in his elvish language to Sylderan. “Thank you, melon.” He looked at Theomin. “It is time. Thank you for friendship. You have been a true friend.”

The two embraced and he then gave Eleswith a hug. He then knelt down and patted little Aches on the furry head. “And you have a good time with your master. Please, stay out of trouble.” The elf then stood up and began to leave.

“Sylderan,” Theomin called out. “Can you do one more thing for me?”

“Yes, Theomin,” Sylderan said.

“Can you remove your face mask,” Theomin requested. “I have not yet seen you without it.”

The elf gave a chuckle. But he did so and removed his mask. He looked much like any other elf Theomin had seen. His pale smooth skin looked soft like a well-made purl. His brown hair flowed like silk along his head and came down at the tip of his shoulder. “Is this what you pictured?”

Theomin also gave a chuckle. “Actually, I expected a monster. Thank you for proving me wrong.”

Sylderan smiled at the humorous wit of Theomin. With that, Sylderan mounted his horse and turned, “Namaarie,” he said as he turned and rode off to the gate of Moria. Swiftly he rode off until they could not see him anymore. That was the last he was to see the elf, Sylderan.

The Family Line Part 144 – The Road East

Part 144 – The Road East

Early in the morning on the next day, Theomin, Eleswith and Sylderan left the village of Bree to head eastward. With them, one more wanted to join. Magla had to wanted to join the journey east with the three travelers. His destination was Ost Guruth, by no means a short journey. It was to take the entire day to reach those ruins, hence the very early start.

The sun had not yet risen over the eastern horizon, but its light had just barely pierced the sky. It was the dawn of the fourth day of travel for the three travelers. Many more days Theomin and Eleswith knew they would take. But they mapped out exactly their route down to Dunland and where they were to stay. If they could make it unhindered through the Trollshaws, Sylderan knew of Echad Candalleth’s outpost in the Trollshaws. After that, the next morning would start early again and end at Sylderan’s destination of Echad Dunan, just outside the path to Moria.

But at present, they were only at the beginning of the journey from Bree. By the time they reached the outskirts of Staddle, it was already morning as the sun had at last risen over the horizon. It was cool with a nice warm breeze ahead of them. The four traveled along, periodically passing a few hobbits with fishing poles on the way to small fishing holes.

It was not until they reached the tall tree in the center of an enclosed small stone wall that Eleswith started talking, “I can’t believe you did it,” she said with a disappointing tone.

“What can you not believe?” Theomin asked, yet he knew what Eleswith spoke of. The night before, Aragorn requested for an oath of allegiance from Theomin. With slight hesitation, Theomin eventually said yes but asked for time between service. Aragorn suggested that he would not ask for any sort of service for a good long while until things were taken care of in Mordor. That gave Theomin peace of mind that evening but gave him a worry in the pit of his stomach. “What if…” was all he was thinking that night in bed. He had not thought of it much the next day until Eleswith brought it up.

“I can’t believe you agreed for servitude for the king,” Eleswith said. “You are basically giving your life away in service.”

“I see it not like that,” Theomin said.

“Nor do I,” Sylderan said. “To give an oath of allegiance does not always mean to serve in battle.”

“But it also means you could,” Magla said. “You could have signed a life of long servitude for war campaigns in any deadly war.”

“Or it could mean that you offer guidance or are a body guard for the king,” Sylderan said. “You are not bound to a combat role, Theomin. You should be honored that the King of Gondor solicited such a request. He an honorable and noble man. Of all of you, I knew him the best. Members of my own kin know him well. Legolas is a good elf, high in the esteem of many elves. He traveled with Aragorn for a time. As did Gandalf the White. He is not like the lesser man that were the stewards of the throne of Gondor. He is the king and as King he is a more kingly than any we have ever before met. Do not look too harshly on Theomin’s decision to serve King Aragorn. I see it as an honor.”

“I see it as a way to tie you down, Theomin,” Eleswith said.

“As do I,” Magla agreed with Eleswith.

“What ever you two think of my decision,” Theomin said, “I made the decision and I need to live with it. You two will not live with the consequences. Only I will need to. And I believe it was the right choice even before Sylderan uttered a word.”

“I said it because I care,” Eleswith said.

“I know you care and I appreciate it,” Theomin replied as he gave her an appreciative smile.

By the time they finished their conversation, way off in the distance, the outline of Aman Sul came into view. The tall and ominous sight of it yanked at Eleswith’s heart and she pulled the reigns of her horse, Dale. The others stopped along with her.

“Are you alright?” Theomin asked. “You need not continue along just yet if you are feeling pain.”

She glared at the watch tower in fear and sadness. She could not help but just keep her stare on the tower. She then blinked and let go of her stare of it. “No, I’m okay.”

“I understand why you would not like to continue,” Magla came close and placed a hand on her shoulder. “I feel it too. We will both go together side by side until we pass that tower. You will then not need to look back at that tower again.”

Eleswith breathed hard and Magla could feel it on his hand. She began to sweat but broke through her anxiety, “Do you promise?”

Immediately, he said to her, “I promise.”

They then continued on, all four of them as Theomin and Sylderan led the group, Eleswith and Magla followed along behind, both looked down away from the tower, diverting their eyes so as not to see the place where Helesdir cast his last breath. Both felt their hearts hurt as they drew closer and closer to the watch tower, looming up to the left of them, casting shadow on their path, attempting to show its presence even to those who are unwilling to look upon it.

For a very long time, the two travelers looked away and down at the tower, all the way through to the afternoon sun were they looking down at the ground as they rode past the it. At last, they could look up and ahead of them. The tower was out of view, behind them as its power of intimidating Eleswith and Magla had waned, powerless and only a distant memory of fear and loss.

Through the rest of the afternoon, the four traveled at a quicker pace to Ost Guruth. By late afternoon, the finally made it to their destination. It was a very long days ride as exhaustion both emotionally and bodily set in to them. Though they were exhausted, they still needed a place to stay.

“Of course we’ll house you for the night,” Freidric the Elder said happily. “For our friends who came to us in need, but it turned out we needed you more. Us Eglain have been recluses for many years. It took the grace of Theomin, a stranger, to unite us under one banner. If there was ever to be a joining of people again like the times of old Arnor, the king can depend on us to join with them.”

Theomin smiled as Eleswith chimed in, “Not like agreeing to join the king’s army, aye Theomin?”

“You are relentless,” Theomin joked.

“You’ll find food in the kitchen and fresh cots in the eastern ruins,” Friedric said.

“You three go ahead,” Magla said. “I have Bree business to speak with.”

The three made the quick walk to the kitchen, back in the upper part of the ruins. They sat down and were served a fresh plate of boar meat complete with flies buzzing around it and a half-eaten apple. “Oh,” Eleswith said with disgust, “I forgot how terrible the food is here.”

“As did I,” Theomin agreed. He sat back in his chair as he looked at the food with disgust. He then looked at Eleswith who decided to drink the pond water the served as it turned his stomach. He diverted his eyes to the surroundings and remembered something from the first time he traveled to Ost Guruth. “Have I ever told you that I truly thought you were going to murder me here in these ruins?”

Eleswith, with no hesitation, spat out the water from her mouth and burst out in the loudest laugh he had ever heard from her. “I had not expected you to say that. Why did you think I would murder you?”

“I had only a thought,” Theomin said. “The first time I met you, you had your crossbow and a look of anger. You seemed like a pretty callous person. I feared that eventually you would drive a bolt through my head.”

“That is the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard,” Eleswith said with shock.

“It is ridiculous but when I was sitting in the morning watching the sun rising in the morning, I thought that was the perfect time to murder me,” Theomin admitted. “Nobody was watching, nobody was over there. That was the perfect place to do it. It was when you sat next to me and began to tell me about yourself that all the fear and intimidation I felt from you dropped away. Others were intimidated and feared you, but I saw you as much more than just an angry look.”

Eleswith, still laughing at Theomin’s admission said to him, “I hope you have not felt any fear of me since then. But I am glad I intimidated many others. It reduced the amount of problems we had along the road.”

“I fear it had no effect on…” Theomin paused to think, “events in Bree.”

“Well, we escaped after all,” she said, “and that is what counts.”

The three sat for a while in silence while they looked at the people of Ost Guruth go about their evening routines. “In order to reach Echad Candelleth by evening,” Sylderan said, “we will need to have an early start tomorrow. This means we will need to sleep soon as our journey through the Trollshaws will be long.

“Then that means we will have to say goodbye to Magla soon,” Eleswith said.

“We can leave anytime,” Theomin said. “I am finished with my food, anyway.”

“You had not even touched your food,” Sylderan said.

“Yes, I finished when I saw the food,” he chuckled. “Come, let us say goodbye to Magla.

The three left their plates on the table and walked over to Magla. He was in the middle of a conversation with Freidric when the three walked up to him. He could see the three were wanting to say goodbye, so he patted Freidric on the arm and said, “Excuse me.” He walked over to the three who came up to him and gave a smile. “Every day I wish I stayed with the group,” he admitted unprovoked. “I see how tight you have been. I cannot be like that.”

“I’m surprised you mentioned that,” Eleswith said astonished. “But you had your own way of dealing with Helesdir’s death. An amazing path you have chosen, I’ll admit. But it is what kept you busy.”

“And it has occupied my mind,” Magla said. “Thank your being in my kinship for so long, Eleswith.”

“And thank you, Magla, for the friendship you have given me,” Eleswith said.

“Thank you for being a strong and stoic part of our party,” Theomin thanked Magla. “It has been an honor to know such a great person.”

“As am I,” Magla said, “but the time has come for you to return home. In Bree, I already feel I am home.” He shook Theomin’s hand. He then looked at Sylderan, “You will keep them safe, won’t you?”

“I’ll try, but these two are capable of handling their own difficulties,” the elf said. “I am only around for the company.”

“I am sorry I did not know you better,” Magla said to the elf. “Perhaps, at some point, you can come back to Bree and we can have a good chat over a nice ale.”

“That is a kind offer, Mr. Mayor,” the elf said.

Each hugged Magla, ready to leave for the hall where the cots were. The each thanked Magla for his help with all they did. Eleswith was the last, as she said to him, “Your strength after Helesdir passed is what help keep me alive. Every day I thought of the strength you showed.”

“But I fed off the strength of yours,” Magla said. “You are what made it possible for me to show that strength. I would have not felt it had it not been for you. I will always remember you as the woman who showed true strength of will and heart.”

They then hugged one last time and Eleswith turned and never did they see Magla again.

The Family Line Part 143 – The In Town Meeting

Part 143 – The In Town Meeting

Daylight waned as the three travelers continued through the eastern pass of Evendim through the road that led into eastern Parth Aduial. The thoughts of the Colossus and the Canadiach were still fresh in Theomin’s mind. That was the last time he would set eyes on those places. A bitter sweet feeling it was as he remembered the struggle they had and the death of Taidir in Ost Forod. The bitter feeling of that gave way to the sweet feeling of coming through there one last time. His heart was glad that he would be leaving that place behind and that it was not of much import any longer.

They camped that night at the border of Parth Aduial and the fields of Fornost. The small bit of ruins that were there at the border provided camp for many an excursion Theomin has had. It was there for him as they traveled from Esteldin to retake Annuminas for the first time. It was there when he tried to leave the first time with the woman he thought was in love with him, Amathwyn. The camp was there when he traveled with the rest of the company to Esteldin on their quest. That would be his last night he would spend in that small camp sight. Not quite convenient as there were no beds or soft places to lay, but it was off the path far enough for some not to notice.

The next day was much like the first with them traveling through the Fields of Fornost. But instead of Theomin having memories of the fields, it was Eleswith. Her thoughts drifted to the evil presence that manipulated her heart into thinking that Helesdir had survived the caves under Aman Sul. It was a terrible and twisted entity that occupied her mind and forced her to believe her love was alive. But with all that terror that she encountered in the fields and later in the fortress of Fornost, it was nowhere near the horrors of what the men and women of Trestlebridge felt as they believed their loved ones were lost to the fields.

By the end of the they day, they arrived in Trestlebridge. Unlike the night before, they were treated to a feast and a festival in honor of Eleswith and Theomin. Eleswith danced with the townsmen and drank the night away as Theomin and Sylderan sat and enjoyed the evening watching the people from the once ruined town again enjoying life and no longer frightened by invasions of orcs or the fear of a malevolent beings occupying their minds to drag them into Fornost. They were free to rebuild and feel safe from all dangers and it was mostly because of Eleswith and Theomin with some help from Sylderan too.

The night ended with Millie Cartwright and Aggy Digweed presenting Eleswith the coin of Trestlebridge. It was only as big as a gold coin, an inch in diameter and one sixteenth of an inch thick. It bore the symbol of the bridge on one side with the symbol of a boar’s head on the other. The coin was originally designed to commemorate the joint and ancient effort of Bree and Trestlebridge to watch the Green Way Road in Eriador. Tears were shed, wine was served and the towns people at last went to sleep.

The three travelers were given a modest but nicely decorated cabin. It was the best the people of Trestlebridge could do for the three who helped the town so much. But it was only a cabin to sleep in during the night. In the morning, the three rose early and got to their horses. It was not going to be a long day of journeying, but they, never-the-less, wanted to start it early.

In only a half hour when they awoke, before the sun rose over the hills, the three were off again and already traveled past the southern gate of Trestlebridge. They made their way down the hill, which took them until midmorning when they were finally in the flat lands of Breeland. To the left they could see the road heading up the hill to Hangstacer farm and the Bree festival grounds. At the base of the hill was the old Greenway Fort.

The day was bright. There was no shade from the sun up above. Only off the road toward the hills was there any shade. Theomin’s skin was turning a reddish color as they were out in the sun on the road for a long while.

“You’re turning red,” Eleswith mused. “Would you like a nice red apple to match? Or how about a radish?”

“Ha ha, make your jokes,” Theomin said.

The mood was light. The lightest it had been for them in a very long time. He could not remember the last time he was in such a good mood. Even Eleswith’s comments, Theomin could tell, were light hearted. That meant she was in a good playful mood again. He remembered back when Helesdir was alive. That was the last time he saw her in such a playful mood. It was almost as if she was finally able to live with his passing.

“I do not have shade like you have on your head,” Theomin said, hoping to not provoke a memory of Helesdir.

“If you seek shade,” a voice came from the east, “There’s a nice town not far from here.” It was Saeredan who had come out of his cabin. “You might have heard of a nice place to stay. They call it “The Inn of the Prancing Pony.”

“Of course we’ve heard of it,” Eleswith said. “Are we to head there when we’ve made it to Bree?”

“Perhaps,” Saeredan said. “You’ll find some nice accommodations there if you’re looking to sit back, have a nice brew and a good chat.”

“Will you be there?” Theomin asked.

“I may stop by for a moment,” Saeredan cryptically said. “But I suggest it for a good meal and a nice air of hospitality.”

“So, it’s the Prancing Pony, then,” Theomin said.

The three continued on and by the afternoon, they reached Bree. The town, which seemed a depressing, mournful and a fearful place the last time he was there, seemed to have completely changed. It was more lively, more cheerful and a different overall mood hung in the air. It was as if they stepped into a new town.

The stable master took the three horses as Theomin handed him a coin, “I would like these three horses taken to the south-eastern gate by the morning.”

“Yes sir, Theomin sir,” the stable master said with glee.

They walked westward from the gate toward the inn. “He was a bit cheery,” Eleswith noticed.

“It is understandable,” Sylderan said. “You two are the star of this town. You brought it much needed peace. Look at the way they revere you.” He motioned to passerby’s who looked at the two with reverence. “To them, you are the shining stars that drove away the dark night. Such people are rare and you two exemplify that.”

The three walked to the inn. All three took the short steps up to the door and walked in. Not much was different. It was just like the normal atmosphere. Men were drinking and eating their afternoon meals. The small hobbit, Nob, was bringing meals to the patrons as Barlamin Butterbur stood keeping watch on people coming in.

“Good afternoon, folks,” he said with a cheery tone. “I know what you are here for,” he said with a knowing tone. “We have a room far to the side for you, out of the way of the common folk here.”

“Why are we sent out of the way?” Eleswith asked. “Why can we not sit amongst the rest of the patrons here?”

“Oh, such matters I do not discuss with folk who should not yet know,” Barlamin said. “I just deliver the messages that are given to me.”

“That’s peculiar,” Eleswith said.

“Is it?” Sylderan said. “Yes, I would like to spend time here with the common folk of Bree, but something special is happening here in the inn and we are invited to it. Keep your guard down.”

“Yes, Miss Jumpy Pants,” Theomin joked. “You are a little jumpy. Just relax and enjoy what is prepared for us.”

“Jumpy Pants?” Eleswith said. “Where did you come up with that?”

“Maybe someone back in Annuminas, it does not matter,” Theomin tried. “Just relax.”

The three walked down the hall and then were pointed further down the hall into a smaller room. Two men stood in the back of the room. They both had a scowl on their faces and at their hips, were armed with swords. Both wore dark cloth with a single emblem in the front of it. The three were then pushed into the room by three other men behind them. The two on the opposite side of the room stood still with permanent scowls on their faces. Theomin realized they left weapons with their horse.

Eleswith leaned over to Theomin, “This is why I was jumpy,” she whispered to Theomin.

“What is this?” Theomin demanded. “Why are we detained here?”

“I know this emblem,” Sylderan said. “A white tree in a black field. It is the emblem of Gondor.”

“Gondor?” Eleswith asked confused.

“What business does Gondor have here?” Theomin asked but the men inside the room stayed as silent as when they first met.

It was then that a commotion came through the hall. Many men marched in, two columns down the hall and stopped. They carried the same armor as the ones in the room but they also bore staves and a shield of the same design. All had the same dour look upon their faces. They then parted and stood with their backs to the hallway walls as a single man came through. He looked like a man of great import as his cloth was richer than that of the guards who he traveled with. His chest bore the same symbol but he bore a cloak on his back and held a crown on his head. His face was just as dour as the rest of his regiment as he motioned his guards to leave him. They quickly complied and left the room.

“Please, sit,” the man said and motioned for them to sit. They all took a seat in the chairs provided as he too sat in a chair. He looked at the three travelers closely before he began to speak. “I have not much time here but wanted to talk before I left south.”

“Are you the one they call Strider?” Sylderan asked.

“I am,” Strider said. “I am also named Aragorn, son of Arathorn. How do you know who I am?”

“We have met mostly in passing,” the elf said. “My travels have been through Mirkwood, Lothlorian, Moria and Rivendell. Many years it has been since I have been in Rivendell. Maybe sixty years.”

“Then you knew me as a child,” Aragorn said.

“Yes, then it is you that I met,” Sylderan said. “I also knew Thrandual, the father of Legolas. In Lothlorian, we are neighbors of those of the elves in Mirkwood.”

“Then you know I traveled in good company,” Aragorn said. “I apologize for the manner in which we are meeting. My men are tired from the continuous travel we have undertaken and must soon undertake. I am indeed Aragorn, king of Gondor. I heard of such great deeds you have accomplished here in Eriador and felt the need to speak with those who were involved.”

“How did you know we were here?” Eleswith asked.

“The king has many men in his service,” Aragorn said. “Saeredan happens to be one of them. And another you might have heard of. Gandalf the White took part in a daring journey with me. He stopped by Tinnudir and heard, first hand, of the journey you took, Theomin, or shall I call you Enedion. You told him of the journey from Rohan and the meeting with your true father for the first time. I am saddened to hear Athegdir has been taken from us. Aside from a great and passionate warrior, he was also a good friend of mine while I wandered the wild here in Eriador.” He bowed his head but then looked back at Theomin and his company. “You know not that I have spent my life here in Eriador. Aside from wandering the wilds in many parts of Middle Earth, I’ve spent a lifetime fighting the shadow here in this land. For quite some time I was content with wandering in exile here in Eriador, staving off the possibility of what I am and what I might become. I see myself in you, Enedion. I suppose once you knew of your true lineage but you wanted nothing to do with it.” Theomin only nodded at what Aragorn said. “Though you wanted nothing to do with it, you still persisted and gave much to Annuminas and retook it for all of Eriador.” Again, Theomin nodded. “But I envy you. You will go back to life as you knew it in Rohan, but life may not be as you remember it. Terrible things have happened in Rohan. The wizard, Saruman turned against the free people and allied himself with Sauron and killed so many of Rohan’s good people. He took much from Rohan. His plans and schemes were thwarted, though, by the brave men of Rohan, but it came with a price. In the fields of the Pelennor, the armies of Mordor, who had gathered strength in darkness, marched on the Minus Tirith. The battle was fought and a long time it took before the free peoples won. But your king, Theoden, had passed in that field.”

“I heard this,” Theomin said. “Gandalf told me of the battle and the death of my king.”

“Eomir, son of Eomund, is king now in Rohan,” Aragorn said. “Once Third Marshall he was. Since the son of Theoden died in an ambush, that placed Eomir at the top of the list to take the throne if Theoden was to pass. Eomir is a good man and a true warrior.”

“I know of him,” Theomin said. “He and his riders saved me in the Broadachers while I was traveling west toward the Gap of Rohan.”

“Then you know of his nobility and his passion to save all that is good,” Aragorn said.

“Hold on,” Eleswith said. “Can we take a step back? How did you know we would be here in Bree?”

“Oh, that answer is very simple,” Aragorn said. “I told you the servants of the king are many. Saeredan, upon hearing of your journey south, swiftly traveled here to Bree. He heard, through news of Gandalf and the rangers of my arrival to Bree. He swiftly took his horse in search of me. He was the one who informed me of your arrival.”

“That was why Saeredan had that knowing look on his face,” Eleswith said finally putting the two pieces together. “It makes sense now.”

“But we haven’t gotten to the real reason we are meeting here, today,” Aragorn said. “These pleasantries are not the reason I wanted to see you. In my travels to the south, much was done and our secret errand that we volunteered to do was of the most import. Nine of us set out from Rivendell in secret. Our path took us through Moria, Lothlorian, Rohan, Gondor and finally Mordor where I am soon set to depart to. It was while in Mordor that I heard of a struggle here in Eriador that caught my attention. Annuminas had been taken by the enemy, that I knew. But I also heard of the effort to reclaim the city and the alliances you forged for such a venture. From Dunland to the village of Trestlebridge, men to dwarves, you formed a great army. In your effort, you and your people united all of Eriador, something that had not been done since the days of old in Arnor. In doing so, you rid us of the last great threat that was still posed upon us. The threat of the return of Morgoth. In our blind haste to destroy the last remaining part of Sauron, we knew not of the growing threat from factions here in Eriador that would want to summon the creature Morgoth. Your and your people’s effort has driven the ultimate evil from this land and has finally allowed the race of men to grow and thrive. It is concerning to me, though, since you are departing from here, who will be taking charge of Annuminas?”

“Along with the dwarf Krovrin as Marshall and the elf Estonethiel, Sergee will be taking the lead roll of Marshall of Annuminas,” Theomin said.

“Sergee?” Aragorn asked with confusion. “Who is this Sergee? Is this person a common man? A dwarf?”

“Oh,” Theomin remembered, “he is known by his name, Sergee, by us. I believe he was referred to by my father as Neleghil.”

“Neleghil,” Aragorn repeated in a pleased tone. “My old friend from Rivendell. In simpler days, he was a good friend to me, often adventuring in Rivendell. But times where swiftly changing and duty was more important than adventuring with friends,” he reminisced. “He was a good person and I foresee him as a good leader of men. But though I see him as a good leader of men, I see you kingly. Perhaps when you have returned to Rohan and settled in whatever life you think you want back, you will find that you left a more fulfilling life back here.”

“You are not the first to offer that idea to me,” Theomin said. “Sergee…Neleghil, suggested that to me before I left.”

“Then you know it is not only the opinion of only one man,” Aragorn said.

“It is true,” said Sylderan. “Such a life that you have lived cannot be dismissed by men. Once you have a taste such a fast-paced life, men tend to want it again. I have seen it in so many men that I deem it a trait of men. It seems as though men miss it, but always seem to miss the quiet life when they are in the thick of chaos. It is an interesting plight of men.

“Aye,” Aragorn said, “and that is what I’m counting on when you return to Rohan.”

“What do you mean?” Theomin had to ask.

Another came from his side and opened a scroll that he unfolded down and continued, “Do you offer fealty to the king when called upon? Do you offer your services to the crown of Gondor if and when the time is needed arises or duty calls for your services to be used? Do you offer your heart to Aragorn, King of Gondor, as protection for his highness or officer of his guard if there is warrant for such a cause? Do you offer yourself to his highness whenever the need should arise? What say you?”