Protect & Serve LotR-Lord of the Rings Fanfiction - Fan Fiction -WattyAwards2012

Chapter 3: The Making of Men

"Lass, we're here."

I jerked and looked down at the pressure squeezing on my toes. My gaze cleared and focused as I registered Gimli standing on the ground, his rough hands reaching up to tug on my foot as he vied for my attention.

Turning slowly in the saddle, I realized we'd somehow made it to Helm's Deep. Like driving home on autopilot, I'd somehow managed to ride along with the rest of the Rohirrim, all the while my mind shutting down in delicious numbness.

Gimli's comforting hand on my foot and his soft words brought me back to reality. To the awareness that we had arrived. And highlighting who hadn't.

I think I preferred numbness.

Aragorn came closer, already dismounted and leading his horse. "Come Lane. I'll take your horse and you can get some rest."

What will it matter? It won't change anything. "Okay," I softly replied, sliding from the saddle and feeling my legs nearly go to jelly beneath me.

Gimli's strong calloused hands steadied me until I'd regained my balance.

"Come lass," he said, still speaking in those soft deep tones. "We'll find ya a quiet spot to rest."

I shrugged. "Okay."

My body slowly and painfully shuffled along, following where Gimli's guiding hand at my back pointed me. The aches and pains that had disappeared with the adrenaline of battle had returned ten-fold. Made worse either from overexertion or perhaps from riding a horse for the first time in so many years.

Or perhaps my body knew what my heart and soul did and had merely given up too.

My mind was exhausted and couldn’t keep the minds of the humans around me out. I felt them pressing all around me. Weighing me down and surrounding me until I felt claustrophobic.

“Shut up! Everyone just shut up!” I screamed, pressing my fingers to my aching temples.

Gimli and the Rohirrim near me looked at me in cautious and worried glances, but Gimli finally pressed harder on my back, pushing me silently along.

“I can’t keep their thoughts out,” I whispered to my dwarven escort.

“We’ll find you somewhere quiet, lass.”

“Okay,” I whispered, still rubbing my temples.

I heard Gimli speaking with several soldiers and servants as we passed, clearly asking them something, but I didn't bother trying to listen to the spoken words when I was still overwhelmed by strange thoughts.

My eyes focused resolutely on my feet. Watching each footfall with detachment as Gimli steered me along. Until, Gimli was no longer pushing me along.

I looked up to see we were standing in a small storage room. Or perhaps it had meant to be a bedroom of sorts at one time. There was still a straw stuffed mattress on a box foundation along one wall, but the rest of the room was filled with woven baskets filled with food stores, and extra clothing and bedding.

"Why don't you lie down and rest, lass," Gimli kindly advised, once again steering me towards the bed.

"Okay," I again told him, feeling like the embodiment of inertia. Everyone wanted me to keep moving, to go forward—and if they pushed or pulled me along, I'd go. But when they stopped, my body returned to rest—the state it wanted to be in. If I wasn't moving forward, I wouldn't have to face the eventualities. Everything could just stand still.

Gimli pushed me back towards the bed, and my pliable body sank downwards towards the mattress.

But before I was seated, something caught and jerked my body to a stop. I blindly reached down, trying to brush away whatever was stopping me from sitting as Gimli wanted, but it wouldn't budge.