The Ranger And The Prince.

Life and Death.

"You have two thousand good men riding north as we speak." Aragorn pointed out, lowering his pipe, "Éomer is loyal to you. His men will return and fight for their King."

Théoden got to his feet and marched over to Aragorn, "They will be three hundred leagues from here by now. Éomer cannot help us."

Gandalf came forward again but Théoden cut him off, "I know what it is you want of me but I will not bring further death to my people. I will not risk open war."

"Open war is upon you, whether you would risk it or not." Aragorn pointed out.

"When last I looked," he turned to glare at Aragorn, "Théoden, not Aragorn, was King of Rohan."

"Then what is the King's decision?" Gandalf asked.

"We make for the refuge of Helm's Deep." He sighed after a few moments thought.

***

"Helm's Deep." Gandalf grumbled irritably as we followed him towards the stables.

"They flee to the mountains when they should stand and fight." Gimli huffed, "Who will defend them if not their King?"

"He's only doing what he thinks is best for his people." Aragorn sighed, "Helm's Deep has saved them in the past."

"It is their future we should be worried about," I added.

I had seen Helm's Deep from afar. It was the greatest fortress in Rohan but even I could not see a victory for Théoden should Saruman attack us full on there.

"There is no way out of that ravine. Théoden is walking into a trap. He thinks he's leading them to safety. What they will get is a massacre." Gandalf explained as he strode into the stables and headed for Shadowfax, "Théoden has a strong will 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 defences have to hold."

"They will hold." Aragorn assured him.

Gandalf turned and stroked Shadowfax, "The Grey Pilgrim. That's what they used to call me. Three hundred lives of Men I've walked this earth and now I have no time. With luck, my search will not be in vain."

Gandalf jumped up onto Shadowfax, "Look to my coming at first light on the fifth day. At dawn, look to the east."

"Go," Aragorn urged as Gandalf galloped out of the Stables.

I passed StarLight's pen and saw Nasha curled up on the corner, nawing on a hunk of bone one of the stable keepers had obviously given her.

I fetched a saddle for StarLight and when I came back, I saw Legolas petting her and admiring her black fur.

"Get your own horse," I smirked, pushing past him so I could ready the saddle for her.

"Where did you get her?" He asked curiously.

I chuckled lightly and turned to him, "She was a gift from your father, King Thranduil, actually."

"Really?" He asked in shock.

"Yes, I attended your last festival of Star Light. You were nowhere to be found yet again. I've met your father a few times and so he was kind enough to offer me a horse to guide me through Mirkwood." I explained, "That's why I named her StarLight."

"And Nasha?" Legolas asked, turning to the wolf which was still occupied with the bone.

"She's from Mirkwood as well if you can believe me. I found her on the outskirts of your city. The rest of her pack had been slaughtered by the spiders but she survived."