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~Stella~
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Post A New Chapter (Open)
on: August 18, 2012 06:50
 Autumn in Middle earth was marked by rainbows of colors coated the lands. Rich reds, yellows, and even purples covered the oaks and poplars. Settled between the oaks were mighty pines, which added green to the mix. The grasses were drying and turning brown in preparation for the winter, although a few tufts of stubborn grass settled here and there. Fields of barley, rye, and whet swayed in the wind adding a bit of gold. Ecologically, all was well with the world, even though the relationships of man were strained to the breaking point.

The hobbits,Samwise Gamgee (dressed in his Shire finest), Meriadoc Brandybuck. (wearing his Rohirrium armor), and Peregrin Took (who was in his Gondorian clothes) had naught a clue what what happening in they'll folks world. All they knew was that Merry and Pippin were to report to Gondor and Rohan for their required month of duty and training. Sam had come for the adventure of it. 

The whole ride had been enjoyable. They had eaten.vthey had talked and sang. All seemed right wi the world. So, when two groups of men rode towards them right after second breakfast they were curious. What could be happening? This curiosity changed to alarm when Merry and Sam were grabbed up by one group and Pippin was grabbed by the other.

The whole ride to Rohan, Merry squirmed and shouted questions. The men who had the two hobbits were from  Rohan Meriadoc  deduced from the horse emblems on their capes and swords.

 "Where is Pippin?" Merry demanded. No one answered him, however like a petulant child he kept asking until reaching the Golden hall. He and Merry were let off near its entrance. The fuming ,8 hobbit, followed by the worried Samwise, entered the room. Spying Eowyn and Eomer, they hastily bow.

"What is going on? Why were we grabbed up like prizes from a raid? And why won't the other riders tell me if Pip is al right," he demanded. Merry puffed his chest out and then crossed his arms over his chest as he waited.

-@-

On the back of a gray mare, a half-elf rode. His long, brown locks streamed behind him as his hood fell on his head. As he rode towards Godor, his gray eyes scanned the lands. No attackers were coming towards him, although the being thought it would be easy to track him. He felt a blood trail in his wake. 

The being looked exhausted and scared. Dark circles lined his eyes. Bruises and scratches cover his face. His brown breeches were torn and ragged. There was a long gash in his pant leg, exposing his skin and wound. The sleeve of his green tunic was also ripped. There, on his forearm, was another wound.

Coming to Gondor, he cantered up the ramp. Hopping off, he hissed and swayed. Taking a deep breath, he entered the throne room where Gimli and Faramir were. "I come here asking for help. I seek asylum," said Elrohir. "Please, I am in need. My brother, Elladan, has been assassinated. Many of the elves either feed or were killed. Please, help me."
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Post Re: A New Chapter (Open)
on: August 19, 2012 12:28
Aragorn and Arwen walked arm in arm slowly down the hallway to the back entrance of the throne room. "I will only be a little while, love, then we can go wherever you wish!" Aragorn said.

Arwen laughed. "Even to the moon?"

"To the moon, just for you." They stopped and kissed each other lightly on the lips. Arwen looked beautiful in her dark blue dress, and Aragorn could not help but wish he could forgo duty just to be with his wife.

"Send Gimli my regards," said Arwen. She smiled. They were having such a wonderful time being together, and she hated that it had to end. In these troubled times it seemed that Aragorn rarely had time to do as he pleased. She understood his dilemma, and supported him as well as she could. Arwen wished there was more she could do for him; Aragorn was stressed greatly with problems from Rohan.

Aragorn looked briefly at the door. "Well, perhaps later you can say hello to him yourself. It has been many moons since you last saw Gimli."

Arwen was about to reply when there was a commotion from inside the throne room. Thick walls permitted them from hearing anything, even with Arwen's heightened hearing. Aragorn immediately threw open the door and walked in, and the Queen followed.

They were shocked to see Elrohir on the floor, in horrible condition. He was in torn clothes, and had many scratches and wounds. Arwen had seen her brother in worse condition before, but it was his eyes that stopped her cold. Darkness, despair, and pain were there. Dread filled both husband and wife.

Aragorn immediately rushed forward to his foster brother. "Elrohir! What has happened? Where is Elladan?"

Elrohir could only shake his head, his mouth forming words but no sound coming from his lips. Horror overtook Aragorn as he realized what this meant; elves do not despair easily. Arwen gasped and tears started to fall from her eyes.

No. No! It could not be true! Foster brother, and blood brother, could not be dead. His life was closely intertwined in both Aragorn and Arwen's lives, and the blow was deadly. Aragorn did not stop the tears that formed in his own eyes. Arwen was actively sobbing now.

"Elrohir. Tell me everything that happened," The King said.
~Stella~
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Post Re: A New Chapter (Open)
on: August 19, 2012 03:00
Hearing the door open with a loud squeak, the elf’s whipped his head around to face the door. Frightened, he rested his hand upon the hilt of his long, slender sword. Elrohir did not know whether or not he had been followed, but if he had, well the elf wanted to be prepared. Seeing his sister and adoptive brother, he dropped his hand away from the pale-colored hilt.

His gaze settled upon his sister. Head cocking to one side, he furrowed his brow. With weariness, the elf shook his head. Oh, how his heart ached to see her! Telling Arwen and Aragorn the news would be painful. It would make it all too real. He didn’t know if he could take it – the grief was overwhelming.

When asked where Elledan was, he opened his mouth. A slight ‘ah’ sound escaped his parched lips, but nothing else came. “He’s dead,” he mouthed, or at least tried to say it. No words came out. Clearing his dry throat, he bowed his head and then shook it. A stray leaf fell from his hair.

The elf took a deep breath to steady his nerves. “Approximately a week ago Rivendell was attacked,” he began. His voice was quiet. His words were spoken hardly above a whisper. “It was late in the evening. We were all going to bed, but I decided to stop to see Elladan first. He had been resting already though – he’d sprained an ankle the day before.”

He put his hands behind his back as he bowed his head. “I heard commotion in his room, so I hurried to his door. There, I saw men coming in. They scaled the walls. One stopped and before he had any time to react, Elladan was dead. He then came after me, but I killed him. There were so many soldiers and they killed anyone in their path,” Elrohir continued.

“Rivendell has fallen. Most of the elves were killed. Those who survived, they fled in all directions. As far as I could tell, none of the attackers went after them, but they did try to track me. I think they lost my trail a day ago,” explained Elrohir in a grim voice. “I-I come here for asylum for protection from the Rohirrium.”
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Post Re: A New Chapter (Open)
on: August 21, 2012 05:41
In the kingdom of Rohan, in its capital of Edoras, at the Golden Hall of Meduseld, tension filled the air despite the bountiful promise of autumn. Indeed, the season found Edoras to be at its finest with sheathes of wheat and grass gathered in daily by the industrious and eager countryfolk. Summer’s sultry and enduring heat faded to fall’s crisp, foggy mornings and gentle, breezy afternoons. Trees sported crowns of gorgeous colors in arrays of umber, sienna, gold, and scarlet. But at the present moment, the beauty of it all was lost to the Rohanian ruler.

Foreboding news had reached the ears of the king of happenings in the North. Passing merchants whispered of a great massacre which occurred in Imladris, one of the last remaining strongholds of Elves in Middle Earth. But it was not said who had done the deed. Rumors ran rife throughout the realm. Some believed it to be remnants of Sauron’s army; others maintained that a great kinslaying took place; still others remained firmly convicted that a rabid group of vagrants assaulted the Elven domain. And those were the most reasonable assertions…still stranger ones pervaded the cobbled streets of Rohan’s capital city.

Éomer paced the inner chambers of the Meduseld agitatedly, attended upon by his closest advisor Haleth, his sister Éowyn, and his new wife, the daughter of Lord Imrahil of Dol Amroth. He waited upon word from Gondor as to the truth of the stores. For it was told that the Queen’s own brother perished in the assault, and Aragorn would know the veracity of perhaps this most tragic tale.

“Brother, will you stop that? You will bend the stone ere too long,” Éowyn remarked as she watched Éomer trace another path around the perimeter of the room. Shafts of sunlight beamed in through the windows, highlighting dancing dust motes in the early autumn sun. Éomer raised his head to reply when a thud sounded on the chamber door. He stopped and called for the door to be opened.

In strode his First Marshal of the Riddermark and three captains, bearing between them two quite familiar faces. They had met the Halflings at the front gate and escorted them to the king’s chambers to prevent any intervention or ridicule. “Your Majesty,” the marshal, a broad-shouldered, thick-necked bear of a man named Uther bowed, placing a massive hand on his chest. All of the others kneeled before the king who tried but failed to keep a smile of relief from his rugged features. Haleth, Éowyn, and Lothíriel cast speculative glances at Éomer as Merry went into an incredulous tirade about being forcibly brought to Rohan.

"What is going on? Why were we grabbed up like prizes from a raid? And why won't the other riders tell me if Pip is alright," he demanded. Merry puffed his chest out and then crossed his arms over his chest as he waited.


“Dear friends, how glad it does me to see you well. In fine health and fine temper it seems!” The king laughed though the light failed to reach his grey eyes. He knelt and considered Merry especially. “Friends, we have brought you here on the winds because of a great danger. I have yet to learn the whole story, but it shall be revealed once my messenger to Gondor returns on the morrow.” Éomer could see that Merry was not convinced. “Dear friends, I would never keep such things from you if I knew more. Pippin was brought to Gondor on my orders. You were all bound to arrive as it was; we only hastened it because of fell men on the roads.” He held his hand up to stay the Halflings’ protestations. “You must understand, Sam, Merry, that the days of old are far gone, and the present is not the past. Where once it was safe for the three of you to travel the lonely roads unguarded, it is now treacherous.”

Here Éowyn took up the tale. The fair maiden had considerably softened since the aforesaid days of old. She had not lost her fiery spirit or temper, but Éowyn remained much more a healer than a warrior. Her betrothed, Faramir, had ensured that change in her. “Friends,” she began, hugging them tightly to her. “You know the kingdom of Cardolan bordering the Shirelands, correct?”

The pair nodded. Over the past few decades, the ancient kingdom of Cardolan, once abandoned due to strife and plague, was slowly being repopulated. It was a gradual and painful battle, however...

“There have been rumors of late that unrest grows. Men are starving and have so turned to thievery and pillaging to make ends meet. We could not bear the thought of you all falling into their hands. Noble, important, legendary or not, you would have been seen as easy pickings. You are fortunate my brother’s messengers overtook you on their way northeast. But there is more to that story, I fear…”

Another knock pounded urgently on the oaken door. The king again called for entrance, and this time, two soldiers donning Gondorian armor and a messenger bowed and rushed forward at Éomer’s beckoning. The king cocked a sandy eyebrow and appraised his new arrivals.

“Your Majesty,” the messenger gasped, bowing his head and handing his liege lord a scroll. “Word from Gondor,” he continued, holding his sides for they had been riding hard all day. “The queen’s brother Lord Elladan has been assassinated. King Aragorn would soon bring you to counsel with the Gondorian lords if possible. A son of Cardolan will also be present. He awaits upon your response.”

Breathless silence reigned after audible gasps at the messenger’s news. So, one of the rumors had been true! “You have done well, Glyndor. Take your rest. These soldiers can return my answer, correct?” A nod of assent.” After scribbling a note on a piece of parchment, the king sent the two soldiers home.

To the small gathering, Éomer moaned softly, “Not a moment after we make peace do we find the need to discuss ill-doings again.”

Lothíriel placed a comforting hand on her husband’s arm. “Love, only time will tell. We know nothing for certain until you ride for Gondor with all haste. You must leave on the morrow; you know this,” she said. Having been raised as the daughter of the Lord of Dol Amroth, the queen was politically astute and sensible which was one of the reasons Éomer had chosen her as his companion.

Much as the bitter news of the assassination left a sour taste in his mouth, the king knew he had to bow to duty. Preparations would be made, and he would ride at first light.

(Alack, dead muse. But, I hope this works. Stella, if edits need to be made, let me know! )
"There is no such thing as a geek, just those who love things the rest of humanity finds weird."
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Post Re: A New Chapter (Open)
on: August 21, 2012 07:18
Aragorn sat by himself in his study, one hand supporting his head. He felt numb, and confused. Part of him could not believe Elladan's death was truth.

He had been sitting in the room for hours, and had forbade anyone to come in. Instead he sat in his chair, unmoving, shedding no tears. For none came. He only thought about all the memories of his life that involved Elladan. His brother. Growing up, how the older elves treated him as equal, even when he was only five. The elves' love for pranks on each other and their foster-brother. The many times the three of them rode out on some adventure. How they were always there for the Chief of the Dúnedain, lest he should call for aid. And when, along with their father, they brought Arwen, smiling ear to ear.

But no more. The two twins that were inseparable were now broken apart. Aragorn felt he had lost not only Elladan but Elrohir as well, for Elrohir would never be the same. Aragorn was saddened at the thought that most likely Elrohir would be lost to grief. He feared for Arwen, his love. He did not think she would succumb to grief over her brother, but would she ever smile again? Would her eyes ever show joy?

For the first time in hours, Aragorn moved to look at a letter that had come in that morning from Hingaer, a trusted man who was appointed to restore the kingdom of Arnor. Hingaer had been born there in Cardolan, and knew the land and its people. Aragorn had sent him out not long after the coronation, for Aragorn was eager to see Arnor brought back to its former glory.

The King opened the letter, and saw it contained nothing more than the usual reports. Hingaer mentioned nothing about Rohirrim activity, but it was not expected. The man was to go to Rivendell every few months and check in with Elrohir and Elladan, but that would not be happening anymore.

Aragorn wished to converse with Hingaer but it would be impossible to ride up there with tension and uncertainty between Gondor and Rohan.

He crumpled up the paper in anger. Elladan's murderers will be found out. And Elrohir seemed to think it was Rohirrim soldiers who attacked them. To be so bold, Rohan! Aragorn could not believe that Eomer, his friend and ally, would do this, but he also could not rule it out. There were too many what-ifs.

He left the study in search of Faramir. He found the Steward quickly.

"Faramir, a word with you." He paused. "I wish to send a messenger to Rohan for the King Éomer's presence. I also would send word to Hingaer; rumor says he is traveling here already on account of the attack of Rivendell. I want to bade him to come swiftly. And Faramir, gather all the Gondorian lords you can muster at such short notice. I wish to hold a counsel come three days."
------------------------

Arwen had wept long for her brother. She and Elrohir had then grieved in the elven tradition.

Arwen no longer shed any tears, though her grief was still near. She longed for her husband, but did not know where Aragorn was. He had disappeared not long after conversing with Elrohir the details of the attack on Rivendell. She knew he would be grieving for Elladan in his own way. He tended to want to be alone in situations like this. Arwen thought it was because of all the years of being alone as a ranger.

She checked the study, but he was not there. She found him later, a perchance meeting in the hall.

"Aragorn!" she called. She was taken back by his expression, or lack thereof. His face showed no emotion. It broke some when he saw her.

"Arwen, I trust you are well for a time such as this. I have conversed with Faramir, and there is to be a counsel with King Éomer in three day's time. I wish you to be there, as well as Elrohir. He is a prime witness to these horrid events. I have other duties to attend to, and need you to prepare your brother. I know he is grief-stricken, but he must overcome it for a time in order to avenge Elladan's death. He is crucial, and we need him."

Arwen nodded, and said, "I will see that his is fit to attend, in mind and body." She opened her mouth to say something else, but Aragorn had already left. A single tear rolled down her cheek. She left to find Elrohir, though longing for the simple embrace of her husband.

(Well I hope that's alright. I tend to forget things and events sometimes...so if something's amiss, let me know.)

***As Stella pointed out, I mixed up Elladan/Elrohir. Sorry about that! It is fixed now. Elladan = dead. Elrohir = alive.
~Stella~
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Post Re: A New Chapter (Open)
on: August 22, 2012 03:23
The wooden floor underneath the hobbit’s bare feet was warming. It would’ve been a comfort to Merriadoc at any other time. However, right now, he was upset over how he’d been treated, he was worried about Pippin, and he was just a little bit disgruntled from such rough housing. In truth, his worry for Perigrin was the driving force that fueled his rash and fiery words. He was so very protective of his younger cousin and didn’t want anything to happen to him.

As Samwise shifted beside him, Merry looked over at him. His brow was furrowed. Us jaw was working. He too did not like the situation, but he was being the shy and quiet hobbit in this instance. Merry wasn't sure how the former servant could be so cool and collected right now.

As the Riddermark kneeled, he scowls at them. Merry Knew he should do the same, but he doesn't. Even though they had done nothing wrong, he still is irritated . He sighs as they leave.

"Of course we are well! Why wouldn't we be? We're hobbits. We're sturdy folk," grumbled Merry. "We sure aren't sacks of potatoes like some of your men think we are. Have they no respect?"

"Master Merry is right, sire. We did get thrown over the horses is the most uncomfortable manner. And. Well ,we missed two meals due to the surprise meeting. I'm sure, Mr. Merry will be right as rain after a bit of food," Samwise said quietly. He didn't like to see fighting of any sort - he'd gotten enough of it during the War of the Ring.

"Are you so sure? The men who took Pippin were dressed in Gondorian garb," Merry said. "And they came from the direction of Gondor."

He sighed. "Well, yes we were. Both Pippin and I have guard duty. Pip for Gondor and myself here. Sam just came for a bit of fun," Merry replied. "And we were comings on our own accord and we were moving at such a pace at we were ahead of schedule. There wasn't any need to hurry us up."

Hearing the reasoning, Merry threw his hands in the air. "We saw naught a soul the whole way," he fumed. "And we can take care of ourselves just fine. We might be small, but we are not children. I helped defeat the Witching. Samwise, here, lived through a trek through Mordor. Doesn't that prove our capabilities?"

Merry was surprised, but quietly pleased when Eowyn hugged her. It gave him a chance to blink away a few stubborn tears. Hearing the question, Merry and Sam nodded.

"Of course we have. We have heard what's going on there to and we know about the strife between Gondor and Rohan. Not much news comes around the Shire, but enough has filtered through Bagend for us to figure it all out," Samwise explained. "An' we aren't afraid."

"I don't want to be Pip's enemy," Merry blurted suddenly. "I'm afraid that'll happen with this unrest. Forgive me."

He turns away from Eowyn and looks to the messenger. Hearing the news, he feels his lips quiver. During the short stay in Rivendell, he and Pippin had become friends with the twins. "What of Elrohir? How does he fair," Merry asked. His voice wavered as he looked at the king. As Eomer wandered off, he realized that the king hadn't heard him.

Samwise looked warily at Merry. He looked so lot and confused. He felt bad for his friend, but the hobbit wasn't sure how to help him. "I'm going to go see if our steeds have arrived," he said. Sam thought Merry would find more comfort with Eowyn. They had, after all, gotten close. Leaving, Sam made eye contact with her. Standing on tiptoe, he whispered in her ear, "I think he needs you more then he needs me. He's been having a hard time since Frodo left." Lowering himself, he exited.

-@-

Elrohir had spent the afternoon bathing and tending to his wounds. A maid had brought him food, but he hadn't touched it. Now that he was clean and dressed in a blue and gray tunic with matching gray pants, he just sat in the seat near the tray. He rolled one of the grapes around as he considered biting into it. Reluctantly, he picked it up and popped it into his mouth. Chewing, he forced himself to swallow. His throat was so dry from the little bit of liquids he had had in the last few days.

He had not cried much. Figured he was in shock. His twin was gone. It was almost impossible to comprehend. Oh, how he missed him! Weary of the room and sitting here, alone, Elrohir pushed himself from his seat. Going to the door, he opened it and strode out into his hall. Seeing Arwen, the he elf went to her.

"My sister," he whispered. He bent and kissed her on the forehead. "Come in." He was glad she was here. Focusing on her gave him a chance to forget the void, of only for a minute.
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Post Re: A New Chapter (Open)
on: August 25, 2012 08:17
The gondorian soldiers that had taken Peregrin Took had finally reached their destination. One of the barrel chested men had been clutching the squirming hobbit. Pippin had given up trying to get away long ago, though his mouth had never stopped chattered. It was late morning when they arrived, the sun already rising high into the sky.

“How about second breakfast, or elevenses it’s about that time wouldn’t you say?” Pippin asked the tall fellow who had lifted him off the horse with a smile on his face at the prospect of food, and then mentioned it again as he was pulled along by one of the other men. At least they had stopped shortly for a bit of breakfast, but nothing Pippin would have considered as a proper breakfast. “Perhaps some sausage and tomatoes? Or a bit of cake and a cuppa tea?” He looked to the large red headed man at his side, “You look like you could use a cuppa Red,” he had nicknamed him; the massive fellow gazed down at the little hobbit with a mask of annoyance. “Right, well, maybe not then?” Pippin shrugged turning his gaze to the double doors that opened to reveal Aragorn.

“Strider!” he exclaimed in equal parts delight and relief, “I mean, my Lord Aragorn,” Pippin corrected himself as he was brought forth before the King and bowed deeply. “What’s going on? Why were Merry and Sam taken by the Rohirrim? What happened to them? What’s happened to Merry? Are they alright?” the words tumbled from his mouth in quick succession. Then he blushed, realising is mouth had once again run away with him, “Sorry my King,” he apologised bowing his head.

((ooc: This is quite short and not very good sorry, I am quite rusty at this and honestly I am still sorting out how to write for Pippin.))
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Post Re: A New Chapter (Open)
on: August 27, 2012 05:10
Arwen walked into Elrohir's room at his invitation. She smiled sadly as she noted his weary features, and untouched food. At least he had the mind to bathe and clean up. She was sure she did not look much better herself - she had spent many hours mourning.

She hesitated at the door. Consciously she smoothed the wrinkles in her black dress she wore in honor of the dead. The she-elf hated to wear it, especially around her brother. But it was tradition.

"My dear brother, how do your wounds fair?" She walked over to him and touched his shoulder in sympathy.

"Estel mourns for him too, brother. In his own way. He still cares for you deeply. You are his brother too. I know it is hard, but he asks that you attend a council in three days. He wishes to find out those who attacked Imladris, and needs your witness."

It pained her to say those words, and it pained her even more to see the grief on Elrohir's face. He struggled with the imposition.

A tear escaped from the she-elf's eyes and she turned away to hide it. How could there be joy one moment, and then devastation the next? Arwen turned back to Elrohir.

"You must be strong. We must be strong; for Elladan's murderers must be found out. Please, we have to do this."
---------------------

For a moment all troubles were forgotten with the appearance of a feisty hobbit, and Aragorn smiled.

"Pippin, my dear hobbit! Do not fret. I fear that this unbecoming behavior towards you was necessary." His face clouded. "There is unrest growing in your part of the world. Men pillage and rob as they see fit. I; rather, Eomer and I feared for you and your companions' safety. We hastened that you be brought back to Gondor immediately. Merry and Sam were taken to Edoras."

Aragorn sighed, then continued. "Much tension and uncertainty is between Gondor and Rohan. But on one thing we agreed: we could not let you fall to petty thieves or worse, be killed."

He turned to a servant, and ordered that refreshments be brought to Pippin's room, and a bath be drawn for the hobbit.

"Dark times are ahead once more, little hobbit. We will be in need of your bravery once more."

Aragorn looked upon Pippin, and perceived that the hobbit had one pressing question, though he did not voice it. As much as he hated to worry the hobbit, or to give him bad news, Aragorn knew there was nothing else to give.

He answered Pip's unvoiced question. "I do not know when you can see Merry and Sam again; I fear it may be a long time before you do."

The king dismissed the hobbit. Once more he was alone, and sadness entered his eyes. But instead of letting his emotions go, he hid them, burying them deep inside as he had many times. Only a facade showed on his face.

A messenger knocked, and Aragorn bade him come in. "Sir, Hingaer has arrived in the city. He sends his condolences on the news."

Aragorn nodded, but said nothing. The messenger took the cue and left. Hingaer...Hingaer was over the region of Cardolan, near Rivendell. Perhaps the man had some information concerning the attack.

Aragorn left the throne room, seeking out the man from Cardolan.

meh. I feel like I sucked on the dialog. well, peeps, let me know if I need to change anything.
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Post Re: A New Chapter (Open)
on: August 28, 2012 05:34
Gimli, clad in simple brilliance in a crisp white linen shirt and a thick deer-hide vest, normally unruly hair pulled back with a leather strip, found himself paralyzed with shock as the dirty figure lay prostrate on the floor before him. He remained silent and stoic as a stone as Elrohir related his tragic story about the destruction and massacre which wrecked Imladris. The dwarf listened patiently but soon became concerned as the mention of Rohirrim came up. After Elrohir and the king vacated the room, Gimli gruffed to himself, “The Horselords? That’s preposterous! Never would I suspect them of such an act!”

Gimli had remained in Minas Tirith for a few years before traveling back to Erebor. Since then, he had led a group of his kin to Aglarond in Rohan and soon established himself as Lord of the Glittering Caves. Given that his people and Éomer’s shared the region and its fortress quite amiably, he failed to see how the Rohanians could be involved. Unless, he reasoned, they acted of their own accord and not of Éomer’s whim. Everyone seemed so quick to condemn the young king at a time when relations between the two regions were thin. Raids had been occurring to Gondorian hamlets, and in turn, there had been increased border conflict between Gondor and Rohan. Gimli possessed a strong desire to help his two close friends, but he felt it not in his best interest to interfere at the present moment.

He would wait until the council in a fortnight's time before he made his opinions known.
--
Éomer sighed heavily as his sister and Merry left together and Sam announced his return to the stables. It seemed that a great stone lay heavily on his shoulders. Relations with Aragorn had been strained as of late, and the king wanted greatly to mend them. He had commanded a hundred of his Riders to patrol the roads and the borders not only to defend his own people but to secure his realm. “Haleth, what other news do you have from Aragorn? Are there other rumors from Imladris?” he asked his first-in-command, rubbing his forehead.

“Your Majesty, there were. It has been said, according to Captain Falac, that those who stormed the city looked to be of the Rohirrim,” Haleth replied gravely, bowing his head. His hand toyed with his sword hilt nervously.

Éomer, who had taken to pacing again, shot a startled look at Haleth. “Of the Rohirrim?” he repeated incredulously. “Have you accounted for all of our companies? Is there anyone who has neglected their duties?”

Haleth inclined his head deferentially. “It was the first thing I did once I heard the rumors. I sent Falac to conduct the accounting while I attended you here. So far it has appeared that all is well within our ranks. There are no signs of discontent or rebellion; my lord, we are all loyal to you.”

The king smiled briefly before issuing further orders. “Haleth, prepare the men to ride out tomorrow at dawn. I suspect we may not make it to Minas Tirith unhindered. Twoscore should be sufficient.” Haleth bowed and hurried out.

Lothíriel, who had little voiced her thoughts during the brief meeting, now allowed herself to be heard. The fair maiden seated herself on her wooden throne and smoothed her skirts. “Éomer, I cannot for one moment believe that Aragorn in all decency would believe our men committed such a crime,” she said gently, casting her sea-grey eyes upon him.

Éomer was inclined to disagree. “Love, our borders are not secured. I would also hope in the better nature of our Southern neighbor, but in the present atmosphere, I am not certain he would be amenable to us. But come,” he said, coming to stand beside his wife and kissing her head. “Let us spend a rare moment alone for I doubt that we will catch another soon.”

--

Éowyn and Merry strode through the Meduseld, ultimately coming outside to stand on the landing overlooking Edoras. The hill upon which the city stood lent a magnificent view of the sprawling pasturelands now turned to tawny, the River Snowbourn, and the Ered Nimrais to the South. “Come, Merry,” Éowyn said gently, pulling her friend down the steps and out into the streets. “Let us go for a ride for we have much to talk about.” Éowyn hailed a passing stable boy who soon returned with their mounts. The lady’s, a large but slender chestnut mare, whickered at the sight of her mistress. They mounted and soon loped out of the city gates.

Turning southward, Éowyn turned back to Merry and began speaking once more. “Merry, my friend, we are entering troubled times,” she said, her fair countenance darkening. “Elrohir will live, but his scars will never heal. I fear for the House of Elrond. The time of the Elves has indeed passed, but it seems someone wants to hurry that process. But I sense a darker purpose here.” Here she paused before giving her friend a brilliant smile. “In all honesty, I am glad you are here. The days grow long whilst Faramir resides in Gondor, and to know another friend is close by warms me greatly. But come, you are troubled. What hurts your heart, Merry?”
"There is no such thing as a geek, just those who love things the rest of humanity finds weird."
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Post Re: A New Chapter (Open)
on: August 30, 2012 05:19
Joint post by me and the lovely Dinen who helped me with Hingaer

Despite the already chaotic nature of the market on an early afternoon, almost everyone in the lower rungs of the city took notice of the sharp ebony stallion and the equally impressive man on his back. Followed by a retinue of at least thirty, the man bore himself proudly. Golden hair sat atop a handsome face lined with laughter and from which peered out two keen grey eyes. This man was Hingaer, lord of Cardolan. Aragorn had sent him to reclaim and to rebuild the once-proud settlement abandoned by the Dúnedain in the distant past. Over the past few years, Hingaer’s energy and determination to reestablish Cardolan earned him not only the love of the people he ruled but also the admiration of his king.

Once he reached the seventh circle, one of Aragorn’s councilors approached him. “My lord,” the man gasped, bowing. “You are wanted immediately by the king.”

Without saying a word, Hingaer followed the man into the main palace, sensing immediately that Elessar was concerned. Aragorn was rarely concerned, but the fear and anxiety in the councilor’s eyes spoke volumes. After striding through the mostly vacant halls, the man left him in front of the throne room. But before the door could be opened, the king himself rounded a corner.

“Ah, Hingaer!” Aragorn clasped the man’s arm in greeting. “It is good to see you. I trust you had a good trip, albeit hurried. Come, we have some grave matters to discuss.”

Aragorn led Hingaer back to his study, and then sat down behind the desk, letting the servant close the door behind them.

The king waited until Hingaer had also sat down, then said, “Hingaer. Tell me an account of everything you know that happened at Rivendell. And tell it as true as possible. I expect that everything you say will be with the utmost discernment and with an unbiased opinion.” He looked hard at Hingaer, his steely eyes leaving nothing unnoticed.

“I assume I do not have to tell you the graveness of this matter.”

Hingaer met the king’s gaze without fear and began his tale. “Your Majesty, it is indeed a grievous thing that has occurred in the Elven realm. I therefore strive to tell you everything as I understand it. I experienced it not first-hand but heard it instead from my agent in the city.” He drummed his fingers on the chair’s arm, deep in thought.

“Not a fortnight ago, strange men were to be seen throughout the region, Cardolan included. It was said they dressed as Rohirrim, but no one could see past their green cloaks and long pikes to make positive identification. I sent my own men out to protect my people as best they could, and I believe this drove the wrongdoers to Rivendell. A week later, my agent returned to my seat at Tharbad. He came to me scarred, injured, and terribly shaken.” Hingaer paused and gathered his thoughts. “My king, he described a massacre. Men scaled the walls of the city, entering by all the secret paths. The Elves staved off enemies where they could, but since the departure of Lord Elrond, the former Elven protection dwindled. The men decimated the Elves, and those who survived fled into the Trollshaws or north into Rhudaur.”

This news disturbed Aragorn. How would the Rohirrim know about the secret paths in Rivendell? Only elves and a select few others knew anything about the most secret ways. Rohirrim or not, they would have had to have inside information.

He closed his eyes a second, trying to process this new revelation.

“Hingaer, what are your thoughts on this attack? Please, be frank with your opinion. I wish to know it.” Aragorn asked.

“My lord, I believe this to be the doings of Rohan. I do not suspect Lord Éomer to be responsible, or to even have knowledge of a renegade band. But he needs to be made aware of the situation. My man found a letter written in the king’s own hand, granting safe passage for a messenger to Rivendell. It is possible that this messenger, one my own man Nargond knew quite well, was an informant. This man knew the intricate paths to Rivendell, having been shown them in years past.” His face clouded with another thought. “The person responsible clearly bears ill will towards the Elves, perhaps the Noldor in particular. Or, they may bear ill will towards yourself, your Majesty.” Another pause. “Do you think Éomer played a role in this, Lord Elessar?”

“King Éomer is aware of the situation, and I cannot assume anything…yet.” Aragorn said quietly. Aragorn did not believe Éomer to be behind the attack, but nothing could be certain until Aragorn spoke to him personally and was able to see the man face to face.

“King Éomer may not have instigated the attack, but he is still responsible; if it was truly his kinsmen who did the fell deed. Éomer is king of Rohan, thus he has charge over all who abide there. If Rohirrim rogues did this, then he is therefore responsible to find the guilty party and deal with them accordingly.”

Aragorn shifted in his chair, then continued. “I have called a council to meet in two days. I expect you to be there, as well as the lords of Gondor and the Steward. Thryin will also be there; he is expected to arrive soon. King Éomer and whomever he chooses to bring will be present, and finally Elrohir himself and the Queen Arwen. At this council we shall discuss the Rivendell attack and Elladan’s death. Elrohir’s account will be crucial, as well as your own.”

Aragorn stood up, then added, “One more thing, Hingaer. Speak truth at the council, but be guarded. I trust you; you have given me reason to in the past. But do not think you are above scrutiny and accusation. Even by me.”
~Stella~
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Post Re: A New Chapter (Open)
on: September 01, 2012 02:39
Elrohir returned the smile that his sister gave him. It was small, tired, and filled with grief. The exiled elf followed Arwen’s gaze to his platter. “I am not ready to eat. Do not judge me, please sister,” he said. His tone was quiet and held as much weariness as his eyes. “I will eat… in time. Let me grieve. Let me think. I did try to consume some food – a grape. It did not sit well with me. I shall try again in a little while.”

Looking at his shirtsleeve, he thought of the cut that was bound underneath. He also thought of the cut upon his leg. “They are not serious. Both should heal wholly and completely. The one upon my arm looked far worse than it actually was,” he replied. “And the gash upon my thigh, while a bit deeper is a scratch compared to some of the other wounds I’ve had.”

Elrohir rested his hand upon Arwen’s as she rested it on his shoulder. Gently, he squeezed. “I am sorry for not protecting our better,” he whispered.

When his sister, the Queen told him that Aragorn mourned as well, the elf nodded. It was a grim movement – once forward so that his chin nearly touched his chest and then back into a high position. It was actually more like a bow then a nod.

“I know that he does, sister. I could sense his grief, even through my own,” he replied. Elrohir’s brow furrowed at the request. “While I wish to seek retribution for our brother’s death as well as have the people cause, I do not want war, nor would Elladan if he were here. I do not wish to attend if it will mean conflict will arise.”

Seeing the tear roll down Arwen’s face, Elrohir took her by the chin and gently turned her face towards him. With the same hand, he wiped the tear away. “Do not cry, please,” the male-elf said to her.

Wearily, he nodded in agreement. “Indeed, we must be strong,” replied Elrohir. “And I will go. However, I am apprehensive. Whoever did kill Elladan, they are after me. The kingdom of Rivendell still stands because I still have breath in my lungs and a pulse in my veins.”

~*~*~*~*~*~

The hobbit matched Eowyn’s pace, even though he had to jog a little to keep up. As he rubbed the arm that sustained injury during the war, Merry looked out upon Rohan. A puckered expression creased the contours of his usually jovial face. His lips were drawn, creating little wrinkles around his lips. His forehead was furrowed and eyebrows were lowered over his brown eyes.

“Very well. All right. As you wish,” replied the hobbit. The inflection of each word was quite terse. He nodded a little; the hobbits curls flopped with the movement. “Indeed, we do.”

As Eowyn went to get their rides, Merry stood there feeling awkward and out of place amongst the big folk; it had, after all, been a year or so since he had been amongst them. Merriadoc wasn’t used to it any more. Standing there, a light breeze ruffled his hair and caressed his face. He sighed and his chest puffed outwards and inwards.

When Eowyn returned with both of their steeds, Merry was glad to see his white pony. “I’m glad they could catch him,” he said, mounting the beast. Pressing its sides, he followed Eowyn.

“I know. I am not blind to the outer world. While the Shire might not hear much of the big folk, but I hear enough. I know about the troubles between Gondor and Rohan,” Merry replied. “How do you even know Elrohir lives? All we know is that Elladan was killed. There was no news of his twin. That worries me, Eowyn! Elladan and Elrohir were my friends in Rivendell.”

The hobbit did not return the smile nor did he return her gaze. Instead, he looked at his gloved hands. He sighed again as he loosened his grip on the reins a little. The wounded hand was cramping. In all honesty, it didn’t seem to be grasping the strap as well as the other. He nodded when she said he was troubled.

“Yes, but what does it matter to you?” he retorted in a cross tone. “I’m just a hobbit who is seen fit to be thrown over a horse like a sack of potatoes! They could’ve just asked and I would’ve followed.”

Merry bit his lip. “I’m sorry. I know I’m cross. I just…I just miss Frodo and Bilbo. It’s not been exactly easy. I don’t like being Master of Buckland. Plus, my arm hurts a bit. I don’t think I’m holding onto things as well,” the hobbit confided. “And, I don’t like being Pippin’s enemy. I fear this assignation of Elladan will lead to a war. Then, I’d have to fight, Pip! I don’t want to.”

(Finally, I post! The net was acting funny last night, thus I couldn't do much)
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Post Re: A New Chapter (Open)
on: September 03, 2012 10:06
Please see OOC.
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Post Re: A New Chapter (Open)
on: September 07, 2012 10:50
JP post between me and Stella

Aragorn finished his meeting with Hingaer, and went in search of his wife. The council was to start in a day, and he was eager to check in with Elrohir. He did want to know if his half-brother was to attend the council, but that was not his primary reason of seeking the elf out. Concern for Elrohir drove him.

He met Arwen just outside of Elrohir’s door. “How is he?” he asked.

Arwen shook her head. “He acts well, but I do not know if I believe him. A visit from his other brother will do him good.”
Aragorn nodded, and knocked on the chamber door.

Elrohir had returned to his seat at the table once his sister had left. The spacious room felt lonely without any other being in it and the large table felt unneeded for just one soul. In fact, he felt awkward at such a dining spot. Why Gondor furnished a dining hall table for a guest room, the elf did not know.

Sitting there, he picked at his food. He eyed the small slice of boar and picked it up. Taking a nibble, Elrohir put it down. Chewing slowly, he managed to swallow. It was laborious to eat (as was even sitting up or breathing), but at least he was trying.

Hearing a knock at the door, Elrohir stood. With graceful steps, he reached the entrance with a couple strides. Smoothing the wrinkles from his clothes, he opened it.

“My brother,” whispered Elrohir. He bowed to the King and stepped aside. “Do come in. Arwen just left.”

Aragorn nodded. He felt a bit guilty for not seeing his brother earlier. Even though the King had much on his mind, he let none of his emotions show, for the sake of Elrohir. Aragorn did not want to worry the elf further.

He looked at the barely touched plate of food. “I know you do not wish to but you must eat, háno. I am not as forgiving as your sister,” he jested.

“But nevermind that,” he said quickly. Aragorn was not sure how to address the elf. They had always been close, of course, but now, it seemed that something was missing. Elrohir was now different, half of him gone. Their relationship strained.

“I hate to bring this up, Ro, but I will you be attending the council?”

Elrohir sighed as he looked at the plate as Aragorn did. Very little was missing and he knew he should eat. However, it was a struggle. The dark-haired elf looked back at his adoptive brother.

“I am trying. I really am,” he promised. “It is just hard. Swallowing proves to be the most challenging. It wants to stick. So, I am taking it slowly. I will get the food down, don’t worry. Perhaps after I rest it will be easier. I am weary, brother.”

Elrohir went to the window and peered out at the city below him. He leaned against the stone and closed his eyes. Shrugging, he said, “Arwen asked me that as well and I do not know. If my presence will bring war, I will not. I do not wish for battle. Elladan would not want it. There was far too much bloodshed that night.”

Opening his eyes, he turned and looked at Aragorn. “I worry that going to the council will be my downfall. I am being hunted, Elessar. The people who killed our brother seek me as well. The reign of Elrond still lives within me. The assassins will not rest until I am found. They made that quite clear on my ride here. I could hardly shake them.”

Aragorn looked at Elrohir grimly. “I will protect you; I will not lose you too. I will do everything in my power to keep you safe. The only ones that will be present at the council are all trusted, yes, even Éomer. Even if Rohan is behind this Éomer is sensible and will not seek your blood. He may be responsible for the actions of his people but he is not a savage.

We need you there… I need you there. We must determine who attacked Rivendell! We cannot let Elladan’s murderers go unpunished! War and conflict is coming, brother, whether you wish to see it or not. You have fought beside me many times against the evil of Sauron, have you forgotten? I do not wish for bloodshed either but it cannot always be avoided.”

“Like I protected Elladan? Brother, I fear that there is only so much you can do.” asked Elrohir. “I fear my time is drawing to a close. I do not seek death, but it seeks me.” The elf shivered a little and rubbed his arms.

“You were not there. Those men, they were savages. They sight blood and destruction. I never though the Rohirrium were capable of such brutality and I would have trusted Eomer with my life. But, not now.”

He sighed. “I feel it will not go well and the seeds of war will be spread further with this council. I am very apprehensive of this meeting,” Elrohir replied. He shook his head. “There is still a few days for me to decide. I might change my mind by then.”

“I didn’t say I didn’t want Elladan’s murderers unpunished. I just don’t want war to come about because of it,” he said. “Of course I have not forgotten. It is due to that war I wish naught to fight. We are still recovering from that.”

Elrohir left his spot and sat down in a chair at the table. “Join me,” he requested.brushing his hair over his shoulder, he then picked up the boar and took another bite.

“You did what you could, Elrohir. Do not blame yourself for Elladan’s death. And nothing is for certain, yet. Perhaps it was not the Rohirrim who were behind this. It could have been rogues, even.”

Aragorn sighed. “The memory of the War of the Ring is still fresh on my mind, too. But it seems fate will have me fight wars the rest of my life. I fear I have no reprieve from that, and I envy the elves who are able to sail away from the troubles of this world.”

At Elrohir’s request, Aragorn sat reluctantly at the table, and watched the elf start to eat.

“I am afraid I am not hungry, brother. I know. The irony. Here I am pushing you when I will not.”

Elrohir quirked an eyebrow and shook his head after he swallowed his bite. “You don’t know that. Even I don’t know that to be true. However, in my heart I know more could’ve been done. If our spots were reversed, Elladan would’ve done more,” he replied with a sigh.

“If it was not the Rohirrim, then who was it? I saw their helmets, their swords, and their shields. There was no mistaking their emblems,” said Elrohir. “Do you doubt my eyes?”

Elrohir shook his head. “The life after leaving Middle Earth would bore you, brother,” he said with a thin smile. “You would quickly tire of peace. You always enjoyed a wanton lifestyle upon the road. How have you liked being King and staying within the castle’s walls?”

“You have probably eaten in the last day or two. I haven’t eaten a thing since I left Rivendell. I had naught a time to find sustenance,” Elrohir said. “So, I think it is more prudent than I eat then you.” He picked up a hunk of bread and bit into it.

After chewing and swallowing, Elrohir continued, “I find it easier to eat in the company of kin. This long table was quite lonely and awkward with just one person. It feels more suited to a hall then guest chambers.”

“I have investigated their armor and weapons myself, brother. I do not….” Aragorn sighed. “Nothing is certain.”

“I admit, life in Minas Tirith can be dull. But my duties keep me occupied.”

Aragorn looked at the huge table he and Elrohir sat at. It was rather ridiculously large.

“If it makes you feel in better, Elrohir, this table was already here when I arrived. It was certainly not my idea to put such a long table in a guest room!”

“I know nothing is certain, but brother, I know what I saw. There is no mistaking a Rohirrim blade or mark,” the elf replied. “I would tell you a fallacy.”

He raised an eyebrow and shook his head. “Having your days occupied does not mean that you aren’t bored,” retorted Elrohir in his ‘wise’ voice. “Even now you want to be out on the plains or in the woods hunting and doing whatnot.”

He couldn’t help but chuckle. “I did not think you chose this piece for the antechamber. Perhaps when things are calmer, you can request the redecorating of the guest’s chambers,” he suggested as he picked up a few grapes and ate them after finishing the piece of bread. The elf studied the plate – half the meat was gone, most of the grapes had been eaten, and no bread was left.

Swallowing, he pushed the plate away. “Does that satisfy you, brother? I do not think I could eat any more right now,” Elrohir said.

Aragorn just shook his head. Everything was so confusing. As much as he would like to cast doubt in Éomer’s favor, things were not looking good. The evidence was condemning.

“Indeed, I miss my days of rangering.”

He looked at the now half-empty plate.”Very good. I shall get you a toy for good marks,” he jested.

Elrohir smirked. “I will hold you to your word, Elessar,” he remarked.

“I must go now, I have many things that scream for my attention. However, I will try to not make myself scarce to you, Elrohir.”

The elf nodded. “There is no rest for the wicked, eh,” he asked.

Aragorn smiled, and then left the room.

Elrohir watched as Aragorn left. He then stood. Smoothing his tunic, the elf exited the chamber and strode through the halls in hopes to find something to occupy his mind.
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Post Re: A New Chapter (Open)
on: September 10, 2012 01:35
Éowyn listened to Merry’s indignation with an open ear and a sympathetic heart. Clearly her old friend had endured much over the past few years. Even now a darkness pervaded the minds and hearts of those who had participated in the great war. The leagues melted away as their mounts cantered over the vast plains. Éowyn pressed her horse Cafread up a large rise. The hill yielded a spectacular vista of the undulating mountains and the sheets of plains spread out before them. The former Shieldmaiden of Rohan gathered her thoughts before returning to her conversation. “We received a furtive messenger in Edoras detailing that Elrohir is alive and has since removed himself to the sanctuary of Minas Tirith,” she said quietly lest her voice roll off into the distance. Éowyn sighed contentedly; she adored her homeland in the autumn. The subtle and vibrant beauty of the season never failed to take her breath away. Her tone turned grave. “With the speed with which the attack occurred, you mightn’t have heard of Elrohir’s survival. We are to Minas Tirith on the morrow for a council.” Cafread snorted and shifted her weight, clearly bored. Éowyn dismounted and set her horse to graze.

Once Cafread was happily clipping the yellowing grass with her delicate lips, Éowyn turned to Merry and continued. “Merry, necessity drove my brother’s actions. You cannot understand how treacherous the roads betwixt here and the Shire are. Marauders roam farther than you know. They would never have treated you as such in peaceful times. I cannot emphasize that enough.” Éowyn realized she was failing to placate her irate friend. She crossed the space between them and placed her hand gently on Merry’s shoulder. “You will not be enemies with Pippin. You are family after all. Much like you and I are family. And it is all that my brother will do to ensure war does not happen. Some may call for blood, but Éomer will not. I trust these matters will be settled over the next few weeks. I pray it does, for we cannot stomach another bout of war.” Her grey eyes turned to the lovely scenery surrounding the pair. “We cannot have war, we must not have war.”

“Elessar has summoned a council of the lords of Gondor. Will you answer his call, Merry? My brother rides to preserve peace and save face. But I fear much face has already been lost in light of disparaging remarks. We have much to accomplish.”

--

The next morning dawned crisp and cold. The sun peeked over the horizon, sending golden rays shooting through the slowly lightening sky. But Éomer noted with despair that the sun also dyed the horizon deep crimson. A beautiful sight, to be sure, but nonetheless disconcerting. His personal servant brought the king a small breakfast of scones, goat’s butter, newly-harvested apples, and cold mead. “Your Majesty, you must eat,” the young man said gravely, understanding the tension in the air.

A heavy sigh emitted from Éomer’s chest. He looked over from his position near the eastward window and surveyed the food with distaste. “If only for strength. I like not my mission, Galen, not at all.”

After barely tasting the repast, Galen began to dress Éomer in his military finery. He put a hauberk of interconnected steel rings, a thick leather vest inscribed with the king’s insignia, greaves, gauntlets, and the king’s crested helmet. With his sword and shield, Éomer looked every bit the warrior and the king of a great nation. With a final glance around the room, Galen and Éomer left the Meduseld and went to face the assembly of mounted calvary gathered outside the walls of Edoras.

A strong wind whipped through the ranks, causing many to shiver and the pennant of Rohan to twirl around its pole. Another portent of things to come, Éomer mused with ever darkening thoughts. He mentally passed judgment on the forty men who would serve as his bodyguard to Minas Tirith. All hardened warriors, all unquestionably loyal. But would it be enough to protect him should they be hindered? Thrusting such thoughts from his mind, Éomer made his farewell to his queen then turned to face his men and those who had gathered on the city walls to watch their Eorlingas riding off. The king threw his weight into his mount’s saddle and climbed onto his broad back. Faces expectant for a resounding speech, Éomer found he had none. But, for the sake of his people, he launched into a gracious speech praising their loyalty, their faith, and their goodwill. With that, a deep horn sounded the command for march. The Rohirrim loped off along the road towards the capital city of Gondor.

--

On the shores of Nenuial, there stood what was once a great city. In the days of old, Annúminas had been a sight to behold. Great stone towers; thick, almost impenetrable walls; steady travel on the River Baranduin; a proud, distant people with lineage dating back to those of Númenor. This had once been the capital of Arnor, now, only a ruin. It was this ruin that Thyrin of the Rangers sought to restore to its magnificent stature. Under the hand of Elessar, Thyrin, a direct-line descendant of another of Arvedui’s sons, had been diligently guiding the rebuilding of Annúminas with the intent of establishing it as a northern capital again.

He had been hard at work for over a decade, charging his lesser men to hire the greatest regional artisans to reconstruct many of the decrepit, ruined buildings. Thyrin saw much potential in his venture, but he deemed it would be another many years before the city would reach its zenith. At the present moment, docks had been extended out into the Nenuial and Baranduin to attract merchants, travelers, and other forms of people into the city for the purposes of resettling and commerce. Furthermore, the streets had been reclaimed, the rubble relocated to one section of the city, and buildings repaired. Many people had come to live in Annúminas, and it became a bustling city.

Thyrin himself lived near what had been the palace for the High Kings of old. He meticulously supervised the construction of his dwelling which soon became the home of his family. As nominal head of Annúminas, Thyrin maintained a small household, but there existed few nobility. People worked together to make the city function, and Thyrin was a strong part of that. His authority and judgment was respected, and his eventual hope was to become titled Steward of Arnor. He mused that it was perhaps a stretch to become the Steward over what had been the kingdoms of Arthedain, Rhudaur, and Cardolan, but Thyrin’s line was junior to that of the Gondorian royal line. It still possessed royal blood, nonetheless. But it was a claim that he refused to make until Annúminas regained splendor and beauty.

In the meantime, Thyrin preoccupied himself with the latest news from the southern realms. Word had reached him of the attack on Imladris from those under the pretense of being Rohirrim. Thyrin paid little attention to that for he seriously doubted that Éomer would have ordered such an action. At the same time, however, Thyrin strengthened the defenses around the city. He doubled the guard on the city walls and kept an especially close eye on his children. Both were in their prime in their mid-twenties, but as his heirs, they could attract especial attention. He remained vigilant to obtain information. Soon enough, a messenger arrived from King Elessar, and Thyrin responded immediately. It had been a few years since he traversed the length and width of Middle Earth to Gondor. But he knew the route well, and it would be a good experience for his children to attend upon the king as well. Perhaps the queen would accept his daughter as a lady-in-waiting. Poor girl, Thyrin mused. She had seen little of the outside world though she had been trained in Minas Tirith under the tutelage of close family. In any case, the trip would clear Thyrin’s head, and hopefully the king would give him more support and direction with Annúminas.

He left as soon as he was able, all the while leaving his right-hand man Secgonga in charge.

(Apparently I like being long-winded...! I think Gimli should be in another joint post since he is kinda just...THERE. What do you think?)
"There is no such thing as a geek, just those who love things the rest of humanity finds weird."
~Stella~
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Post Re: A New Chapter (Open)
on: September 18, 2012 10:45
Merry relaxed a little when he heard the news. A slight smile Crossed his face. "Good," remarked the hobbit. "I am glad he is safe. However, I worry that we know where his whereabouts are. If the assassins who killed Elladan are looking for Elrohir they will have an easier time finding him. I doubt they would turn tail just because he is with Aragorn. They attacked Rivendell after all!"

He's hook his head. "No ma'am. This is the first time I have heard the news," he replied. "I want to go. Pip'll probably be there. I need to see him. And it would be nice to see Elrohir for myself."

He also dismounted. Sitting down under a tree, he sighed and shook his head. "Couldn't they have at least asked? That isn't too much, is it," he asked. "I am a person and not aching. They seemed not to heed that fact."

Merry plucked a strand of grass and played with it. "We saw naught a soul on the whole trip. Everything was calm and quiet. It was nice. Besides if we had we would have fought them off. Sam, Pip, and I all fought in the war. Samwise went through Mordor and came back. That has to say something of our abilities."

"How do you know? I am a soldier of Rohan. Pippin is a soldier of Rohan. If there is war, well be fighting on opposites. We will be forsed to be enemies. It's inevitable and I don't like it," Merriadoc admitted.

Merry shook his head. "I don't want war. However, I feel there will be. In the end, there will be. There is so much strif and tension. Something has to happen. Everything feels volatile," he said. 

The hobbit nodded. "Indeed I will. I swore my loyalty Amd servitude to Rohan and I will not back down.

The next morning, Merry rose and dressed in his armor. He felt I'll in the stomach and nervous about the upcoming council. Downing some food, he hurried to find Eomer. When he did, he stood beside the King and waited. As he waited he wondered if he would be allowed to ride with Eoer and everyone else. 

~*~

Legolas arrived in Gondor. He strode the roads and up to the castle. Entering, he looked around. "Where is Elessar? I must speak to him as to what I have seen," he said.

(Finally, I post! I hope this is long enough)
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Post Re: A New Chapter (Open)
on: September 25, 2012 05:59
Pippin had taken a bath drawn for him by the lovely Delaina, a servant girl of the court, and changed into fresh clothes that had been provided for him, made especially for his small stature. Returning to his chamber he found Delaina setting a small table with food.

“Supper!” Pippin cried, more than a little excited for a hot meal.

“Yes sir, would you like a pint of ale?” Delaina asked smiling at him, and was answered by the twinkle in his eyes. A pint he thought remembering his time with Merry, Frodo, and Sam. She poured him a glass without further verification.

Pippin really did miss them, especially Merry. Pippin wondered how he was doing in Edoras. He hoped Merry wasn’t fretting too much over their sudden separation. Perhaps he should write a letter to Merry. Pippin sat down across from where Delaina stood and tucked into his meal before he noticed the girl starting to leave.

“You aren’t going to stay?” he asked in surprise.

“Do you want me to?” Delaina asked, a bit flattered that Master Pippin would want to eat with her.

“Of course,” Pippin grinned, “Besides there is more than enough for a small army of hobbits here,” he laughed, “And I want to know what is going on and I am sure you are the girl to ask,” he said taking a large bite of chicken, “Aragorn looked quite gloomy, what’s happened?” he asked.

Delaina sat across from him taking the extra plate and filling it with food before regaling him with everything she had heard around the castle, the amusing and funny rumors first of course, and then onto the serious bits.

“Oh my,” gasped Pippin his eyes wide. “Poor Elrohir, I should really go see him, give him my condolences,” Pippin said finishing off his ale, having cleaned his plate. He rose from his seat and made for the door but before then he turned on his heel, “May I have a bit of parchment and a quill later, I would like to send a letter to Merry to inform him on the goings on here,” he asked.

Delaina nodded, “Of course Master Pippin,” she replied before Pippin left in search of Elrohir.
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Post Re: A New Chapter (Open)
on: October 12, 2012 10:54
Faramir sat at his desk, sorting through papers. He was only sorting through them halfheartedly, as his mind was elsewhere. His thoughts dwelt on one certain Rohirrim maiden who was dear to his heart.

The Steward longed for her to be close to him again. More than anything he wanted to wed her...but it seemed now their happiness was torn apart by tension and whispers of war. Talk of deceit and ill-will.

Suddenly he picked up a quill and started furiously writing a letter. Just because he and Eowyn were separated did not mean they could not communicate. After writing a couple paragraphs, he stopped and crumpled the paper in frustration. Too droll and lifeless. He picked up the quill again and wrote some more, before tossing that aside. Too happy and unrealistic. He tried again several more times, before knocking over the ink well and giving up entirely. He just didn't know what to say to her.

"Making a mess, I see."

Faramir started. He did not even notice Aragorn walk in. Faramir shrugged in response.

"I needed to talk to you about..." Aragorn's voice trailed off as he glimpsed the content of one of the papers.

Faramir did not need to know what the king was wondering about. "I simply cannot find the words to say to her. I either sound fake or boring."

"She loves you, Faramir. You are, after all, betrothed. She would love to hear from you. Better now to get a letter out before things get worse," Aragorn said.

Faramir sat there for a minute, thinking. "I suppose you are right. I cannot help but hope she will accompany Eomer here."

"I do not know, my friend. He may forbid her from traveling; the lands are getting more dangerous."

"Still, I wish it." Faramir sighed. "About the council...I have contacted the Elders and sent for those you wish to attend. Some have even arrived."

"I know, Faramir. And many thanks." Aragorn said.

An awkward silence filled the room. Then Faramir asked, "Who do you think..did it? Do you believe it to be the Rohirrim?"

Aragorn seemed to be staring at the wall, but when Faramir looked closer he noticed the king was not looking at anything but rather remembering past things. Finally Aragorn looked at the steward.

"When did it get this way? I trusted Eomer with my life. I would have given my own life for him should it had called for. Yet here we are now, strained and apart. Now I cannot look upon him without some doubt in my mind. When did it come to this?"

Faramir shook his head. "I cannot say, my lord. I look upon you as a brother, and I will say this: do not be so quick to doubt him."

"I cannot help but feel something more subtle and eviler is beneath all this," Aragorn said.

"You might be right."
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Post Re: A New Chapter (Open)
on: October 16, 2012 07:57
(I hope you like my post!)

Elrohir had stepped out onto a balcony. He stared out at the white city below him. His lips were turned downwards in a frown. His mind was not upon this city but of Rivendell. He thought of Aragorn and Elladan and himself running through the forests and gardens. He remembered how he and his twin spying Arwen and Aragorn in a private moment, kissing under an Elanor tree. The elf daydreamed of the feasts and parties held during the solstices Oh, how he missed them!

Hearing the patter of feet, the elf turned on his heel. His hand grasped the sword handle so that he could pull it from its sheath in an instant – if the need be. The exiled Prince stiffened as he prepared to fight. Seeing the hobbit, the elf relaxed. He breathed out. His shoulders sagged as he let go of the handle of the sword. With weariness in his dark eyes, the elf smiled at the hobbit.

“Hello, Holbytlan,” said Elrohir with a slight bow to Peregrin Took “I hope that you are well and that the ride here was uneventful. Dark times are upon us all, I am afraid to say. A rift has been forged between the Kingdoms of man and I fear that the only way to heal the wounds is through battle, which Master Took, I do not want. Too much blood has already been spilt.”

He shook his head as he put his hands behind his back. “Come, let us take a stroll through the city. I find myself weary of this space,” said the elf in a quiet tone. Without waiting, he walked slowly though the stone hallways. Elrohir took his time; he wanted Peregrin to be able to keep up with him.

“May I offer you advise? Write your cousin, Meriadoc. I suppose that he is due on Rohan to fulfill his duties as a knight. Write to him and tell him to leave,” Elrohir instructed. “Tell him to go back to the Shire lest he wishes to be your enemy. I suggest you leave Gondor, as well. Go back to the Shire and lay low. This is not a battle for the hobbits. It’s a battle of man and elf.”

He looked back at the curly-haired warrior. “If and when we go to war, you will be forced to fight each other. I don’t think you want that, do you,” Elrohir asked. “I would escort both of you home, however I cannot. The men who killed my brother are still after me. I would endanger the lot of you.”

~*~

Hearing the voices of Aragorn and Faramir, Legolas hurried down the hallway. He knocked upon the door. Not waiting for an answer, the blonde-haired elf pushed the door open. “My lords,” said Legolas as he bowed to the men. “Aragorn, mellon nin, I am sorry for your loss. Your heart must weep.”

“Do you have word of Elrohir? I was passing through the area when the attack happened. I helped tend to the dead and give them a proper funeral,” explained the elf. “I did not see Elrohir’s body amongst the fallen.”

The elf frowned. “Why did the Rohirrium attack Rivendell? It does not make any sense. There is no logic behind this action,” Legolas said. “However, there is undeniable proof of what happened.”

Legolas brought fourth his leather satchel. He opened it and pulled out a wrapped thing. Undoing the cloth, he laid the dagger upon the table so that the two men could see it. It was a green-handled dagger. The stained wood was finely polished. The steel blade glinted in the firelight. Upon the blade the horse of Rohan was embossed. “I found it imbedded in Eladan’s chest,” the elf said grimly.

~*~

Samwise had just finished tending to the ponies; he wanted them rubbed down and fed properly, even though the stable hands surely could’ve tended to the steeds just as well as anyone. He still wasn’t used to being taken care of or having things done for him. The robust hobbit liked to do for himself. Any other way made him feel quite uncomfortable.

As a just reward, the Halfling took out his pipe and filled it with some Buckland pipeweed. Striking a piece of flint near the tobacco, Sam lit his pipe as he wandered through the city. Coming to a hill, the hobbit sat down. Stretching his legs out, Sam propped himself up and watched the passing clouds.

Something in the distance caught his eye. He hopped up. Shielding his eyes, the hobbit watched the things approach. Soon, Samwise saw that there were many of the creatures. “Wargs I’ll reckon,” he mused to himself. Seeing their armor and the riders, he frowned. “Well, that ain’t right. Why are there Gondorians on those beasts? I best go tell Lor’ Eomer abou’ this. Yes, sir.”

Samwise took the pipe from his mouth and sprinted to the citadel. “Sir, Lor’ Eomer!” the hobbit exclaimed when he reached the King. “There are wargs headin’ straight ths way! Funny thing is they seem to be ridden by Gondorians. I didn’t rightly know they used ‘em as steeds, but I’d kw their armor anywhere.”
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Post Re: A New Chapter (Open)
on: October 28, 2012 01:19
Ta-dum. Ta-dum. Ta-dum.

The steady beating of the drums pervaded the air. Horses shifted anxiously under their riders’ weight. It was the silence before the storm as the Rohirrim waited on the word of Éomer. The word that Warg-riders threatened the road ahead turned all attention from the journey to Minas Tirith to the present danger. Great steed loping back and forth in front of his people, the king called out orders, “Women, children, return to your homes immediately! Bar your doors and do not open them save for my command!” His horse turned a pace and cantered in front of Éowyn and his queen Lothíriel. “My ladies, see that the women and children obey my orders. Turn all to their homes or to Melduseld, and have the gates secured!” One more turn, and his final orders. “All riders, hearken to me! We must haste! Make ready for battle for we have no time to spare! Haleth, remain behind and lead the second onslaught for we will need your reinforcements. I shall lead the first.” As the stallion slowed and halted in front of Merry and Sam, both garbed and geared for travel. “My friends, I would have you stay behind, but I see in your eyes it is not to be. Falac, Atherol!” He motioned two Riders who immediately responded to his command. “You will bear these Halflings in the second wave. Keep them at your side, and guard them with your very lives.” Everyone scurried off to do his bidding, and a mass movement both inside and outside the walls of Edoras ensued.

Summoning his standard bearer, Éomer formed his original twoscore Riders into four lines of ten. “ These men bear the likenesses of our Gondorian cousins. Do not strike to kill the men, only disarm. But give their vermin steeds no mercy!” The young lad raised the banner on which was wrought the white horse of Rohan on a forest green background. “We ride! We ride for our brethren, for our safety! Forth Eorlingas, and turn the sky red this day!” With a shout, his horse reared, and the company broke into a slow gallop. In the distance could be sighted the enemy, no more than a league away. There were no more than fourscore, but they appeared lethal.

Time seemed to pass slowly. One moment Éomer unsheathed his sword and lowered his sturdy wooden shield, and the next the two masses of bodies surged together in battle. The Riders met the Warg-riders at a breakneck pace and crashed in a cacophony of metal and wood. Almost immediately cries sounded as horses and Wargs went down. Éomer plunged into the heart of battle and laid about cutting the Gondorians from their Wargs. Some of his Riders shoved their infamous long pikes into the barrel-shaped chests of the animals, their lifeblood soon dyeing the tawny ground red and turning it into a sticky, slippery mess. True to their oath, the Riders sought not to slay their fellow Men, but many soon were knocked unconscious. For the moment, both sides remained in a deadlock, neither gaining nor giving ground.

The next rush of Eorlingas soon changed the tide of battle. Although the Wargs were fearsome beasts, their riders were clearly not well-trained to successfully maneuver them much less fight from their backs. Once the second group of Riders charged in with full battle regalia, the Warg-riders attempted to retreat in fear. Morale broken, they kicked their Wargs around, but Éomer’s men were in full pursuit. Within a short period of time, most Wargs lay writhing or dead on the ground. A few managed to get away, but the Eorlingas secured about fifty within a circle of pointed pikes and blades. Disarmed, they remained silent and sullen, staring at their captors with eyes glistening with hate. Éomer rode through the blades and gave voice to his thoughts. “Now what are Gondorians doing riding Wargs within my borders? I should not think you are under the jurisdiction of King Aragorn.” He dismounted and beckoned a few others to remove the helms from several of the men.

Men not of Gondorian stock glared at them but still said nothing as their guises were removed. “You bear not the likenesses of our Southern neighbors,” Éomer remarked in surprise, hiding his disgust at their actions. “You are of the North for you have the countenance and demeanor of Bree-landers. I should wonder why you venture so far south on the backs of Wargs. Who among you will answer for the whole?” he challenged authoritatively, his voice carrying through the circle. “In whose employ are you? Why have you threatened my people?”

A scuffle arose from amongst the Rohirrim, and Haleth brought forth a scrawny lad of no more than thirteen years old. “Lord Éomer, there was to be an attempt on your life. This young man carries orders for your life to be taken, and he possesses a poisoned dagger. The note bears no signature, however. What would you have me do?”

Eyes upon him, Éomer did some quick thinking. “I will bring the lad and another few with me to Minas Tirith as prisoners. There they will explain the nature of their business under pain of death. Haleth, lead the remainder to Helm’s Deep and leave them under the guard of Barden. Our forces will be split, half to Helm’s Deep and half to Minas Tirith. Then, Haleth, return with your men to Edoras, and you are my right-hand man until my return.” He then focused his attention on his Second Marshal. “Falac, ride back to Edoras and summon Éowyn to me. I will have need of her in the White City.”

---

Back in Edoras, the process of returning the city’s inhabitants to their homes was rough but effective. Neither the queen nor her sister-in-law had seen any true danger to their people, but it was enough to convince the citizens to follow orders and not panic. As they waited in the Melduseld, Éowyn saw the moment for a rare conversation with her husband’s wife. As of late, Éowyn had been mourning her separation from Faramir. The growing tension between the two regions had kept Faramir in Minas Tirith and strained their relationship. They had hoped to wed sooner than later, but she could see no such occasion occurring for the near future. And if they went to war…

“Sister, why do you fret?” Lothíriel asked softly, noticing the vacant look on Éowyn’s face. They sat in the presence chamber within Melduseld, waiting anxiously for some word of their men. “Surely we are not in any real danger. Or is there something else? Your face speaks of concern and worry.” The queen was an unusually perceptive woman, something Éowyn often noted with a mixture of annoyance and relief. The pair became fast friends upon the daughter of Imrahil’s arrival in Edoras.

“It is Faramir,” Éowyn admitted, returning her gaze from the wooden wall to Lothíriel. “I like not this game of chess we play with Aragorn. First we make one move, and then he makes another. All the while we contemplate his next move, his next aggression, his next retreat!” she ground her fist into a table in frustration. “Your cousin is caught by the king’s side, and I fear he will not leave it. I cannot hope for no war between us despite the efforts made by my brother. If the king’s council is bent on war, then we will not have the resources to fight it. And that might mean the end of Faramir and I!”

Lothíriel placed a comforting hand on Éowyn’s shoulder. “Éowyn, keep faith. A disagreement does not mean that he will abandon you. You two share a special bond, one that is strengthened through the union of your brother and myself. That will hold strong throughout this ordeal.”

“But I fear that closeness will serve as only a wrench! How can we be certain he will not remain neutral?” She stared at the simple diamond ring that served as the promise of marriage between Faramir and herself. The lady twisted it in agitation. “But why worry about the future before it becomes the present?”

“Exactly. In the meantime, we will work for peace. When you return to Éomer, I know wholeheartedly the both of you will not agitate the king. If anything, dear sister, I have faith in you.”

Éowyn smiled, but almost as soon as she began speaking, the doors opened and Falac rushed in. He made his report and brought forth Éomer’s summon. “We are well, and all business can begin as usual, your Majesty. But Lady Éowyn, you must leave now. Lord Éomer cannot tarry any longer.” With a quick farewell to the queen, Éowyn rushed to join her brother.

---

The Bree-landers stared in awe as a Thyrin’s company descended on the city. In front rode the dark-haired, blue-eyed Northerner with his two children, his son Matthias and his daughter Adrienne. In appearance, the siblings could not have looked any more different. Matthias had inherited the dark-haired, grey-eyed look of those from Dol Amroth, the southernmost fief of Gondor. Their mother was a descendant of Ivriniel, daughter of Adrahil, and therefore another cousin of Faramir and Lothíriel. That bloodline had passed down to Matthias. Adrienne on the other hand took on the appearance of a woman from Eriador, particularly near Bree. She had green eyes and chestnut hair which was a mark of her Gondorian heritage (Thyrin’s family originated in Gondor). It was oft noted that they were a handsome family, close-knit and proud.

They took up residence in the Inn of the Prancing Pony for a couple of days while Thyrin gathered information. His contacts passed onto him snippets of news from around the region, particularly regarding Imladris. Thyrin knew that Elrohir had fled south and that he was pursued. He also knew Hingaer had arrived in Minas Tirith, and it was this that concerned him the most. The lord of Annúminas suspected that Hingaer was connected with those who assaulted Imladris. But he had a neutral opinion on Éomer’s involvement because of a lack of evidence to his knowledge.

His concerns caused him to seek out the bartender Butterbur and gauge the old man’s thoughts. “Burly!” Thyrin called, tapping the bar to get the man’s attention.

Butterbur finished wiping clean a glass and squinted at Thyrin through its clear bottom. “Thyrin, m’lad! What news d’ye have from the lake?”

“Not much, my friend. I have come here to not discuss pleasantries, Burly. I’m on errand to Minas Tirith. What know you of Rohan’s involvement in the attack on Rivendell?”

Butterbur sputtered and coughed to clear his throat then leaned in conspiratorially. “I dunno much, Thyrin, but I do know they found a Rohanian messenger among them. But ye know me, in one ear and out the other, as I allus say!”

“So you do, Burly, so you do.” Knowing no more information was forthcoming that night, Thyrin retired to his room. But he was not alone as his hand turned the brass knob on his door…

---

Gimli, bored and fed up with not being told anything, sought Faramir out. The Lord of Aglarond knew Aragorn was probably busy with Elrohir and so the dwarf sought counsel with the Prince of Ithilien. He reached the door and knocked. Gimli’s face shadowed with surprise as the door opened to both Faramir and Aragorn. He sputtered and said, “My lords! I hope I have not interrupted any secret meetins’. I only wanted a word with Lord Faramir.”
"There is no such thing as a geek, just those who love things the rest of humanity finds weird."
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Post Re: A New Chapter (Open)
on: November 02, 2012 03:00
Aragorn was about to depart from Faramir's office when Legolas burst into the room. Aragorn smiled thinly at the elf, noting he had not knocked. It wasn't like the King didn't trust the elf, he just appreciated some warning.

“Do you have word of Elrohir? I was passing through the area when the attack happened. I helped tend to the dead and give them a proper funeral,” explained the elf. “I did not see Elrohir’s body amongst the fallen.”


"Calm down, my friend," said Aragorn. Elrohir is safe, and alive. He is here now in the palace under my protection. I assume you know that our brother Elladan was not so fortunate."

The elf frowned. “Why did the Rohirrium attack Rivendell? It does not make any sense. There is no logic behind this action,” Legolas said. “However, there is undeniable proof of what happened.”

Legolas brought fourth his leather satchel. He opened it and pulled out a wrapped thing. Undoing the cloth, he laid the dagger upon the table so that the two men could see it. It was a green-handled dagger. The stained wood was finely polished. The steel blade glinted in the firelight. Upon the blade the horse of Rohan was embossed. “I found it imbedded in Eladan’s chest,” the elf said grimly.


Not a word was said as all stared at the new "evidence". Almost in anger, Aragorn grabbed the dagger up and stared at it closely, inspecting if it was really of Rohirrim make.

After what seemed like a long time of silence, Aragorn finally said, "I have spent many years under the service of Lord Thengel. This dagger was made to look nicer than it really is - to look as if from Rohirrim soldiers. It is, however, only a commoner's dagger, as one can tell by the shape of the blade. No commoner's dagger would be decorated so, only those in the army or of high importance would have such a finely decorated knife."

"What does this mean?" asked Faramir, who was now even more confused than ever. Why would a commoner's dagger be made to look kingly?

Aragorn looked at Faramir, and then to Legolas, but noone had an explanation. "My guess is..," he said slowly, "someone is going through alot of trouble to frame Rohan. But, at the same time, Rohan could still be the ones to blame. I cannot know for certain that they are innocent, though I hope in my heart. This is still a Rohirric dagger; and could mean nothing at all. It simply could be a soldier's heirloom that a forefather decorated long ago."

Faramir shook his head in doubt. "The latter seems less likely, though the former sounds absurd."

"Nothing is certain right now. I will keep this for now, Legolas, and wait for Éomer's arrival. His reaction and response to this dagger will tell us many things," Aragorn concluded.

At that moment Gimli walked in the room (at least he knocked and waited for a "come in!").

Gimli’s face shadowed with surprise as the door opened to both Faramir and Aragorn. He sputtered and said, “My lords! I hope I have not interrupted any secret meetins’. I only wanted a word with Lord Faramir.”


"No trouble at all!" said Faramir. "What is it you wished to speak to me about? Or did you wish to speak in private?"
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Post Re: A New Chapter (Open)
on: December 16, 2012 11:05
Merry was sweaty and covered in blood. He stood behind Eomer, listening to the men talk. Once they were done, Merry strode forward. “My lord, Eomer, I wish to go with you to Minas Tirith. I doubt I will be of much use, but I am a good fighter as I have proven time and time again,” he requested.  

“Perhaps I will notice something that can be of use to ending the scourge. I have already noticed a few odd things, as you probably noted. They weren't Gondorians. They also weren't properly trained. There was sloppiness to their fighting, even if they were good," Meriadoc said to the King. He kept his eyes trailed upwards towards the big person in front of him.  
 
 As Eowyn entered, he grew quiet. He let is gaze go downwards. "Please," he whispered. He let his gaze go downward as his lips turn down in a pensive frown. He wants to go not only to protect, but to also see his cousin. He just hoped Eoemer would allow him to ride with them. Although, he had a feeling he would go even if they said no.

~*~*~*~

Legolas bowed his head and breathed in and out slowly to calm his nerves. "It was a horrible sight, Elessar. Blood everywhere and the buildings defiled into ruins," the elf said. "How is your brother, other than alive? I imagine his grief is great."

The elf studied Aragorn as he examined the blade. "I saw a few men flee, but as I came at the end of the battle I got no good look upon the soldiers. I wish I had. But, I did get the blade and I knew I ought to come to you first above all else. Did I choose wisely?"

He frowned. "What would be the point of a fraudulent dagger? Why would someone wish to strike fear and anger between man and elves? We have no enemies,"  Legolas asked. 

Legolas turned and looked at Gimli as he entered. "My friend, it is good to see you well. There is much to discuss in these dark times," said the blonde haired elf. "The time of peace is over, I am afraid. War is brewing among man and elves for Rivendell has fallen."

 He looked from the dwarf to the men. "Perhaps the master dwarf could have some input in this? Maybe he might understand the situation better," Legolas offered. Then, he began to brief the dwarf on what had transpired - from the fall of Rivendell to the Wang attack.

(I hope this wasn't rubbish)


 
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