Prequel to my version of The Lord of The Rings trilogy

Theoden's Decision

Aragorn burst into the Great Hall of Edoras, the heavy wooden doors flying open with a resounding crash. His eyes blazed with urgency, and he called out, "The beacons of Minas Tirith! The beacons are lit!" The hall fell silent, all eyes turning to him as he took a moment to catch his breath, his heart pounding with a mix of adrenaline and determination.

King Théoden, flanked by his generals, turned sharply at the sound of Aragorn's voice. Legolas and Gimli stood nearby, their expressions shifting from curiosity to concern. Éowyn, strong and poised, moved closer, her brow furrowed with anxiety. Liv and David, standing with Haldir, exchanged worried glances, feeling the weight of the moment settle around them.

"Gondor calls for aid," Aragorn continued, his voice steady and resolute. "We must answer their call."

"And Rohan will answer!" Théoden declared, a fire igniting in his eyes. "Muster the Rohirrim!"

Éomer, his loyal nephew, bowed his head in acknowledgment before swiftly exiting the hall to carry out his uncle's command. The heavy tolling of the bell echoed through Edoras, summoning the Rohirrim from their homes and fields, the sound reverberating like a battle cry through the valleys.

Théoden wasted no time, donning his armor with a sense of urgency. He moved with purpose, striding toward Éomer, who kept pace at his side. "Assemble the army at Dunharrow," Théoden instructed, his voice firm. "Gather as many men as can be found. You have two days." He grabbed Éomer by the shoulder, his grip a mix of pride and urgency. "On the third, we ride for Gondor—and war."

"Forward!" Éomer replied, determination ringing in his voice.

"Very good, sir," a soldier responded, rushing off to relay the orders.

"Gamling! Hama!" Théoden called, his voice cutting through the noise of the hall.

"My lord," Gamling replied, his expression serious as he stepped forward alongside Hama.

"Make haste across the Riddermark. Summon every able-bodied man to Dunharrow," Théoden commanded, his voice a rallying call that resonated with the urgency of their mission.

"We will," Gamling assured him, nodding as he and Hama hurried away, their boots thudding against the stone floor as they went.

Théoden watched with fierce pride as the soldiers began to gather, the hall filled with the sounds of preparation. In the stables outside, Aragorn and Éowyn busied themselves with their horses, the animals snorting and stamping in anticipation.

"Do you ride with us?" Aragorn asked, glancing up at Éowyn.

"Just to the encampment," she replied, her voice steady. "It's tradition for the women of the court to bid farewell to the men." She smiled, but there was a hint of something deeper in her eyes, a mixture of courage and longing.

Aragorn, noticing a blanket draped over Éowyn's saddle, lifted it to reveal her sword, gleaming in the light. She snatched it back down, a spark of defiance flaring in her gaze as she looked at him. "The men have found their captain. They will follow you into battle, even to death. You have given us hope."

Just then, Liv entered the stables, cradling her daughter Gabby in her arms, while David walked beside her with Lily. She looked at Aragorn, her expression resolute. "Liv, are you sure you're going to fight?" Aragorn asked, concern lacing his voice.

"Of course! I can't let you all have all the fun," Liv replied with a determined grin.

"What about your daughters?" Aragorn pressed, his brows furrowing.

"Don't worry, Lily and Gabby will be safe," Liv assured him, her voice filled with confidence.

The scene shifted as Legolas and Gimli made their way toward the stables, riding together on a sturdy horse. Gimli looked ahead, his brow furrowed in thought. "Horsemen," he mused, "I wish I could muster an army of Dwarves, fully armed and filthy!"

"Your kinsmen may have no need to ride to war," Legolas replied, his tone serious. "I fear war already marches on their own lands."

"Don't worry, I have a plan," Liv interjected, her tone light yet conspiratorial.

"Last time you had a plan, you almost got us all killed!" Gimli shot back, shaking his head in disbelief.

"Careful how you speak to my sister," Legolas said, a protective gleam in his eye. "And besides, I was only eleven back then," Liv added with a playful smile, easing the tension between them.

As the soldiers began their preparations, Merry struggled to get his small horse moving, his legs dangling comically as he urged the steed forward. The urgency of their situation weighed heavily on everyone, and the atmosphere crackled with anticipation.

"It is before the walls of Minas Tirith that the doom of our time will be decided," Théoden thought, a grim resolve settling over him as he observed the gathering.

Aragorn mounted his horse, the creature shifting beneath him with eager energy. He turned to face the assembled riders, his voice rising above the clamor. "Now is the hour, Riders of Rohan! Oaths you have taken—now fulfill them all, to Lord and Land!"

With that rallying cry, Éomer raised his sword high, and the riders surged forward, galloping from Edoras with the thundering sound of hooves reverberating in the air. Merry, determined to prove himself, galloped alongside them, his small figure riding boldly into the fray, each beat of his heart echoing the hope ignited by the blazing beacons of Minas Tirith.