1. Dire Deeds Awake
The scouts have returned. No good news they have brought to me, another issue piling above the many that trouble my heart already. But this news is something that requires immediate attention. Large amounts of troops are gathering at the Gate of Isengard.
I have gathered my men in haste and have sent a message towards Elfhelm in Edoras, asking him to come with as many men as he can gather.
No doubt my father, and even more Wormtongue, will be against that. But I have sent for him and as the right-hand of my father none will disobey my orders. The command of our army rests now in my hands.
My father…
He is not the man he used to be, the man I admired for his strength, free will and pride, for his wisdom. How it grieves me to see him like I saw him the last time I visited Edoras. An old man, apathic and totally dependent of a stick and that creep Wormtongue.
Wormtongue…
I know he is responsible for my father’s current state. Too long has he poisoned my father’s ears. Yet there is nothing I can do to stop him. I cannot send Wormtongue away from father’s side, father would not let me and the Law of the Golden Hall forbids me to take up arms against the snake.
How I wish it were different. But it isn’t.
My eyes drift over the plains. As if struck by lightning I halt my horse. There are troops marching in great speed to the Fords. And behind us are the remains of the troops we already battled earlier.
It’s begun. There is war upon Rohan. And we are not prepared. Cursed that snake Wormtongue.
But I will concern myself with him later. Now I must lead my men to battle.
Forth Eorlingas!!
I have taken the small island in the middle of the Isen to cover Grimbold in case he gets driven backwards from the Westside of the fords. Saruman’s forced are smaller than ours though.
But in the frontline are Dunlending cavalry and those dreaded awful Wargriders. Bema, protect us!
It does not look good. The men are being scattered by the attacks. I’ve never seen such fierce and fearless attacks. A company of Uruks is coming towards us. They are armed with heavy axes. How awful are their cries. Unnatural and terrible. We cannot hold against them, they are driving us backwards.
To me, Eorlingas!!
Valar, those Orcmen are tough warriors. I find it difficult to hold my own against my opponent. He is strong. How many more does Saruman have of these monsters?
And then it’s the end. I’ve been struck down. It cannot be. We must stand against them. We must. We must keep the Fords. For Eomer.
Eomer must come. Only he can stand against Saruman and defend Rohan when I’m gone, if my father will not. In Eomer I trust, in him I believe. He is our hope, if I do not make it. I will not make it, I know that now.
My strength is leaving me. Of the battle around me I am not aware anymore. It is growing dark before my eyes. Am I being touched?
Vaguely I recognize the faces of Grimbold and Elfhelm. It pleases me to see them here. It is getting harder to breathe. I must tell them… Before it is too late.
Leave me be, to keep the Fords until Eomer comes."
This is a work of fan fiction, written because the author has an abiding love for the works of J R R Tolkien. The characters, settings, places, and languages used in this work are the property of the Tolkien Estate, Tolkien Enterprises, and possibly New Line Cinema, except for certain original characters who belong to the author of the said work. The author will not receive any money or other remuneration for presenting the work on this archive site. The work is the intellectual property of the author, is available solely for the enjoyment of Henneth Annûn Story Archive readers, and may not be copied or redistributed by any means without the explicit written consent of the author.