Dragon Rider in Middle Earth

XXIV

-They will be three hundred leagues from here by now! Èomer cannot help us. I know what is that you want of me. But I would not bring further death to my people. I will not risk open war.

-Open war is upon you, whether would risk it or not.

Théoden walks to Aragorn with a stubborn look in his eyes, one Arya had seen far to often in her uncle Roran's eyes before he went inro battle.

-When last I looked, Théoden, not Aragorn, was king of Rohan.

-Burp!- Gimli burps loudly, luckily interrupting the growing tension between boh men.

-Then what is the king's decision?- Gandalf asks.

Arya stood from her place besides the girl leaving her and her brother to Èowyn as she walked out leaving them to their arguments.

••••••••••

As she walked out the castle's dors and to the armoury to retrieve her sword and daggers, she felt Argent's familiar mind press against hers and she opened up to him, embracing him warmly wih her own.

-Argent- she uttered fondly.

-Arya- the dragon purred. Having to hide away from his Rider and being apart for such long periods of time was something neiither of them was used to and he didn't like it.

-I have missed you these past few days- she said. In a few short minutes they told each other all they had gone through in those days apart. 

••••••••••

As they conversed mentally, Arya walked near the stables just as Argent bid her goodbye and she overheard the recognisable voices of Gandalf and Aragorn.

-He is only doing what he thinks is best for his people. Helm's Deep has saved them in the past- she heard Aragorn tell Gandalf.

-There is no way out than that of ravine. Théoden is walking into a trap. He thinks he is leading them to safety, but what he'll get is a massacre- Gandalf strode forward, his staff hitting the floor and echoing through the stables. Théoden has a strong hold but I fear for him. I fear for the survival of Rohan. He will need you before the end, Aragorn. The people of Rohan will need you. The defenses have to hold.

-They will hold- Aragorn tries again.

Gandalf turns to the grey stallion Shadowfax and combed his fingers nervously through the animal's mane.

-The Grey Pilgrim. That is what they used to call me. Three hundred lives of men I've walked this earth and now, I have no time- he talks to himself -Good luck. My search will not be in vain. Look to my coming, at first light, on the fifth day. At dawn, look to the East.

-Go.

Shadowfax sprints out of the stable.

Arya leaves before she gets caught by Aragorn and goes to the bed she had been assigned to.

When morning comes, she wakes up and the first thing she noticed were her weapons, newly polished and on the bedside table.

-Éowyn must've brought them here- she though. She got dressed quickly and ran to meet with Aragorn.

•••••

In the stables, a horse rears. Two men with ropes try to control him.
Aragorn approached it with no fear, Arya trailing not too far behind ready to pull her new friend back should he decide to try anything stupid that would risk him getting hurt.

-That horse is half mad, my lord, my lady. There's nothing you can do. Leave him- one man said.

Arya hears Aragorn mutter something to the horse as he offers it his hand and she strains her ear.

-Fæste, stille nú, fæste, stille nú. Lac is drefed, gefrægon (Fast, quiet now, fast, quiet now. A battle is stirred up, they heard)- he strokes the mane of the animal -Hwæt nemnað ðe? (What is your name?)

-His name is Brego. He was my cousin's horse- she sees the Rohan lady approach her friend.

-Brego? Ðin nama is cynglic. Man le trasta, Brego? Man cenich? (Brego? Your name is kingly. What troubles you, Brego? What did you see?)

-I've heard of the magic of Elves, but I did not look for it in a Ranger from the North. You speak as one of their own- Arya gets closer to the pair.

-I was raised in Rivendell, for a time. Turn this fellow free. He has seen enough of war- Aragorn turns away front he horse and walks out of the stables with Arya who sent the maiden a sad look  knowing how clueless men could be towards women's feelings.

•••••

Gríma rides up to Isengard. Inside Orthanc, Saruman listens to the orb on his pedestal.

-Gandalf the White. Gandalf the fool! Does he seek to humble me with his newfound piety?

-There were three who followed the wizard. An Elf, a Dwarf and a Man.

-You stink of horse. The man, was he from Gondor?- Saruman sniffs holding his head up high in front of the crouched over man besides him.

-No, from the North. One of the Dúnedain Rangers I thought he was. His cloth was spoor. And yet he bore a strange ring. Two serpents with emerald eyes. One devouring, the other crowned with golden flowers- Gríma explains.

Saruman flips through a book to an illustration of this ring.

-The Ring of Barahir. So Gandalf Greyhame thinks he's found Isildur's heir, the lost King of Gondor. He is a fool. The line was broken years ago- he snapped the book shut raising a cloud of dust from its old pages -It matters not. The world of Men shall fall. It will begin at Edoras.

The image on the Palantír shifts gaining his attention, its sight focused momentarily on a woman with reddish hair who was helping the people pack.

She suddenly turned and looked straight into Orctank through the orb. Saruman staggers back when she does, shocked and frightened by the way her eyes looked almost like fire. The orb grew dark once more and Gríma covered it with its blanket. Saruman trying to shake the girl from his mind.

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