(PTII)Defenders of Middle Earth: A Middle Earth Story(Book 4)

Chapter 2: Storms and Recollections

"Oh, lookit you, friend of all birds and beasts. Next you'll say you tamed wargs!"

"Well actually-" Caledorn began.

"Nevermind, I don't want to know the story behind that! Leastways not until we're in those caves!"

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After scouting ahead a short distance, Gerithor led the company to a large series of caves that managed to comfortably fit the entire group. Carved into the side of Caradhras, the caves seemed almost unnatural, as if some great beast had dug them. The dwarves quickly made themselves at home, claiming the many nooks and crannies of the caves for themselves. The elves seemed significantly less comfortable, many of them lingering near the entrance as if they could not be parted from the sight of the sky.

Gerithor set his equipment by Kalan's, for he wished to speak with the dwarf and gather what news he could from him.

"Ah, laddie..." the dwarf began as he leaned against the cold stone wall of the cave. "Despite the hardship, it's nice adventurin' with ya again. Just like old times."

Gerithor smiled sadly. "If only it were under less dire circumstances."

"Right y'are lad, right y'are. So tell me! What sort of trouble have you been getting yourself into for the past two decades?"

Gerithor pulled a pipe from the pouch at his side and lit it slowly. "Aside from a stray adventure or three, nothing much has happened. Guarding the Shire was uneventful, to say the least."

"I don't doubt ya ate well though!" Kalan laughed. "Hobbit food is second only to dwarven feasts!"

"The halflings didn't share, unfortunately," Gerithor replied with a slight grin as he blew a poor excuse of a smoke ring. "They feared us for the most part. At best they ignored us. The Tooks were an exception to the rule, on occasion they would offer us a mug of ale and a warm spot by the fire. But that was rare."

"You mentioned 'an adventure or three'," Kalan replied. "Care to share those tales?"

Gerithor laughed. "I would, but they would take far too long to explain in full. But tell me, where have you been? You mentioned little of your whereabouts before."

"Do you want the whole story?" Kalan asked rhetorically before continuing. "After we separated on the road of Fornost, Sarina and I made our way south. We'd have stopped in Rohan, but folk there are distrusting of outsiders, especially dwarves. We made our way to the Gondorian city of Cair Sirion, where we stopped for a time and I collected goods to sell wherever we decided to go next.

"Sarina had taken the parting hard, and spoke little during our journey. When she did speak, she avoided any topic relating to our past quest. It was as if she had blocked it entirely from her memory."

Gerithor's eyes grew sad as he recalled everything that had taken place. "I did not realize that she would be so ill affected by what had happened. She was young at the time though, and the trials we had faced would have been difficult for anyone to emerge from unscathed."

Kalan nodded in agreement. "Eldahir's death especially seemed to haunt her. The poor lass would rarely sleep; she'd spend hours staring into the fire at night, lost in fell thoughts.

"When we finally left Cair Sirion though, she seemed to have recovered, at least somewhat. I think that interacting with normal people living their ordinary lives aided in her recovery tremendously. She spoke more now, and for the first time since we had been in your company she smiled.

"We decided to make our way north to Dale, but Easterling and orc war parties made the journey impossible. We then turned south, intent on reaching Minas Tirith. One day we came upon the results of an orc ambush along the northern reaches of Ithilien, and there we found a single survivor. His name was Beregond, and from his cloth we discerned that he was a Gondorian soldier. Sarina took to mending his wounds on the journey to Minas Tirith, and they grew close. When we reached the city Beregond asked her to stay with him, and she happily agreed. I stayed in the city for nearly a year, and during that time the two were married."

A faint smile played on Gerithor's lips. "I am happy for them both. Sarina deserved a good life, away from war and strife."

"Aye, I can agree with ya there," Kalan nodded slowly, blowing a smoke ring of his own. "Last I heard of them they had been blessed with two sons, Bergil and Borlas."

"Good names. I take it they still live in Minas Tirith then?"

"Aye. Beregond was appointed as a Citadel Guard shortly before I left."

Gerithor nodded slowly, taking it all in. "Where did you go after that?"

"Where else? I attempted to make the journey north once more, though this time I planned on going to visit my kin in the Iron Hills. By now though the Easterlings were patrolling the road regularly, and I was unable to sneak past. Being the strapping warrior that I am however, I tried to fight them." He gave Gerithor a mischevious wink. "Naturally, that didn't end well."

"Were you captured?" Gerithor asked.

"Aye, only temporarily though. I managed to convince them that I was a peddler of fine wines(which was partly true, wine was among my goods) and that I had hidden a stash of it nearby. Naturally, they were intrigued." The dwarf let out a hearty laugh. "The fools drank until they couldn't walk straight, and I was able to waltz away, free as a bird.

"After that I realized that I had gotten lucky, and I surely would not be so fortunate again. I traveled west, making my way through southern Mirkwood and over the Misty Mountains. I had more than my share of adventures, let me tell you! But long story short, I eventually reached the Blue Mountains and set up shop there. Then shortly after the dragon came and... Well, you know the rest my lad." Kalan closed his eyes and leaned back slowly. "Alas, the hour is late and my feet are sorer than a skinned badger! I can tell ya more at a later date. G'night me boy."

No sooner had he uttered the words than he was snoring loudly. Gerithor shook his head and let out a sigh before standing and making his way over to the cave entrance. The only other soul still awake was a young ranger standing guard. Gerithor didn't know her name, but he recognized her as one of the "halfbreed" rangers; That is, one of those who had a parent that was not of the Dunedain. They often stayed together, for they felt intimidated by the fullblood Dunedain.

"You must be tired lass," Gerithor said softly as he sat down beside her. She startled at his voice and turned quickly, her eyes wide.

"I apologize Captain, I must have been drifting off," She replied nervously.

"It's been a long journey so far, it's natural to be tired," he said with a kind smile. "I'll take over your watch, go get some sleep."

"If I'm tired, you must be ten times more so, if you'll pardon my impudence," she said. "You have to lead this entire company, it must be exhausting."

"Aye, that it is," Gerithor laughed quietly. "But I need strong, alert fighters at the end of the road. Go get some rest, I insist."

"If you say so," the young ranger replied as she stood up reluctantly. "My name's Gilian, by the way."

"I'm proud to fight alongside you, Gilian," Gerithor said with a smile. "Now go. The road is long, and it will wait for no-one tomorrow."

Gilian smiled and retreated to the corner of the cavern that the other rangers had occupied, leaving Gerithor alone to his thoughts. The harsh wind whistled outside, and here in this isolated part of the world, even though he was surrounded by his companions, he felt completely and utterly alone.