The Edge of Night

In the Shadow of the Mountain

Elfwyn watched as her cousin addressed his men, his voice carrying among the rabble. "Now is the hour. Riders of Rohan, oaths you have taken. Now, fulfill them all. To lord and land. Hyah!" And with that, they were off, each company galloping in different directions across the plain, hoping beyond reckoning to pull off one more miracle.

The road was long, the terrain rough. But they arrived at the encampment in two days' time. She rode proudly beside her father, as they made their way to the center of tents. "Make way. The king and princess are here." She heard someone say over the sounds of conversations going between the men, the sound of a smithy's hammer crashing against steel as the swords were sharpened for battle.

"Grimbold, how many?" Theoden asks as they ride past.

"I bring 500 men from the Westfold, my lord."

"We have 300 more from Fenmarch, Theoden King." Another shouts from the opposite direction.

"Where are the riders from Snowbourn?" her father asks Gamling.

"None have come, my lord."

Aragorn finds them later, looking down the mountainside at the ridges lined with tents. "There are not enough men." She whispers, her voice carrying across to the men standing beside her.

"Less than half of what I'd hoped for." Her father states in agreement.

"Six thousand will not be enough to break the lines of Mordor." Aragorn notes.

"More will come." Theoden says, hopefully, before turning to walk away.

"Every hour lost hastens Gondor's defeat. We have until dawn, then we must ride." Aragorn says with a finality befitting a king. Even given the severity of the situation, Elfwyn could not help the small smile that briefly crossed her lips. Her father nods in agreement before the frightful whinnies of the horses gathered in the shadow of the mountain causes.

She leaves them be, searching out Legolas and Gimli. She finds them with Eomer, looking out among the men and horses. "The horses are restless... and the men are quiet." Legolas observes.

"They grow nervous in the shadow of the mountain." Eomer replies. They look to the center of the mountain, where a horse was rearing up, desperate to get away from whatever danger it could sense.

"That road there..." Gimli asks, gesturing to the path between the two rock outcroppings. "where does that lead?"

"It is the road to the Dimholt, the door under the mountain." Legolas answers.

"It's a ghost story. Something we would tell each other by fire light growing up. Eomer and Theodred thoroughly enjoyed scaring Eowyn and I into hysterics."

Always one for a laugh at her expense, when Eomer did not react the way she thought he would, Elfwyn grew concerned. "None who venture there ever return. That mountain is evil."

Eomer walks away and they are left to stare down the path, entranced by the entrance and whatever lay beyond it. Aragorn moves in front of them, drawn like they were to the path to the Door, staring intently at something. "Aragorn." Gimli says loudly, drawing his eyes away. "Let's find some food."

Elfwyn allows herself to laugh, the tension broken by the ever-present rumbling of Gimli's stomach and his quest for food. There were times when he was no better than one of the Hobbits.

"You noticed that as I did." Legolas whispers to her as they follow behind their friends.

"Yes. But can we really be surprised that he is drawn there? The last king of Gondor called upon them. That oath would have been passed through the line straight to him, even if he has done the utmost to stray from that path." They say nothing more, as there was nothing left to say. Only time would tell what would be done with those who dwell in the mountains.

Darkness falls sometime later and she's drawn to the center of camp, to her cousins. Eomer is perched upon a stump by the fire, Gamling beside him. Eowyn and Merry come from her tent, Merry dressed as a soldier of Rohan, swinging his sword about him. "To the smithy. Go!" she urges him and he runs off.

"You should not encourage him." Eomer says, his mouth full of whatever was made for dinner that night.

"You should not doubt him." Eowyn and Elfwyn say in unison.

"I do not doubt his heart, just the reach of his arm." Gamling laughs at this and Elfwyn punches them both in the arm.

"You were once no bigger than Merry. And if I recall correctly, Father had to send you and Theodred to bed without supper more than once for acting bigger than your britches at the time and nearly getting yourselves killed." She comments before turning to head to her tent, but not before she catches Eowyn's response.

"Why should Merry be left behind? He has as much cause to go to war as you. Why can he not fight for those he loves?" One quick glance at Eomer told Elfwyn that they both knew this conversation had steered from Merry.

"You know as little of war as that Hobbit." Eomer says, standing up from his spot. "When the fear takes him... and the blood and the screams and the horror of battle take hold... do you think he would stay and fight? He would flee. And he would be right to do so. War is the province of Men, Eowyn." He walks away and Elfwyn goes to follow.

"You did not need to startle her that way. While she might not have first-hand experience with the reality of battle, she has dealt with the very real consequences, just as you and I have done. Don't confuse her love for her family, her country, and her people for childhood naivety of war. We know too well the costs." She turns to walk away but a squire has run up to them.

"Your Highness. Your father is looking for you." With one final look to her cousin, and another to the tent where her other has since retreated, she follows the soldier.