Return to the North [ Lord of the Rings x Silmarillion ]

At the Fords of Doom

Now - Rohan

It was morning, but the group was only able to tell this by the brightly lit lamps along the streets and the bustle of dwarves with places to be. The group stood on a balcony of a common room above the bustle. Below, they caught sight of a few slighter dwarves with smaller beards walking here and there with dwarflings.

"Are those... dwarven women?" Elfwine said this discreetly to his companions from where they stood and watched the busy road.

Eldarion shrugged. "Perhaps? I have yet to meet one."

"Well you're about to."

They all were caught off guard by the pleasant voice that came from behind them. When they turned, they found themselves looking at three dwarves. Two they knew already: Gimli and his son Nim. But the third, the one who had spoken, was unknown to them.

"This is Nora, my wife," Gimli smiled.

The companions all gaped. A dwarf woman! She was smaller than Gimli, both in height and girth, but not by much. She had brown hair drawn in braids and a small braided beard. Her eyes were bright with curiosity.

"Oh don't look so surprised," Nora huffed, folding her arms. "Surely you expected to meet one of us someday."

"We are at your service, Lady Nora," Eldarion bowed deeply. "The pleasure is all ours."

She laughed. "You weren't kidding, love. This one is mighty full of honor."

Eldarion cocked an eyebrow at the male dwarf in question but said nothing.

"I, of course, am at your service as well, sons and daughters of mannish kings." Nora smiled. "Yes, I know who you are. Gimli has told me about most of you."

Gimli nodded. "Legolas has too."

"Father," Nim begged. "May I go North with them?"

Nora stomped her foot. "Nim I told you no already. By Mahal's hammer and anvil, you better take 'no' for an answer!"

Gimli shrugged. "Listen to your mother."

Elfwine frowned. Why shouldn't Nim go? He wasn't that much younger than he in relative age. Yet he knew it was not his place to object, and he was somewhat afraid of this dwarven woman.

"We should be going soon," Aderthon sighed. "The sooner we depart, the sooner we will reach Isengard."

Eldarion nodded. "Unfortunately Aderthon, you speak truly."

"We've restocked your horses. And I wrote you the note you wanted." Gimli handed the prince a scroll of parchment. "That should carry some weight with the expedition."

The group, accompanied by the dwarves, made their way through the long walk to the exit at Helm's Deep. There they picked up the horses.

"Gimli," Eldarion smiled. "We cannot thank you enough for your help."

"Any time, lad. I'll let Aragorn know you passed this way just fine." The dwarf laid a hand on Eldarion's arm. "Stay safe. That goes for all of you."

"Of course," he said with a bow. "Farewell, all of you!"

Gimli, Nora, and Nim waved to them as they led their horses out of the entrance to the Glittering Caves towards Helm's Deep. The quick ride up to the walls was short-lived. Once there they bid farewell to Lord Elden and left the stronghold once and for all.

"North we go," sighed Aderthon. "To the Treegarth of Isengard."

"To see the ents!" Fëalas added this immediately.

This brightened everyone's spirits instantly. They were going to see the ents! With this added enthusiasm, they rode hard for the remainder of that day. They stopped at the Fords of Isen come nightfall.

Elfwine and Edeva grew quiet as they set up camp at the ford. A great stone sat there, a monument to the fallen soldiers from the war. The two Rohirrim walked up to it with reverence.

Edeva laid her hand upon it. "Long may they sleep."

Elfwine remained silent, bowing his head in respect. He was all too familiar with the story of these fords, at which their uncle, Théodred, was slain while holding back the forces of Saruman. It was here that the spears of the fallen had stood for decades. Before eventually falling into dust. And then the stone had been placed there, so that no one would ever forget.

The others quietly watched them, saying nothing. Eventually they built a small fire and cooked a meal of venison. Elfwine and Edeva remained quiet throughout the night. This place was a dark reminder of the violent times before the peace of the Fourth Age.

The children had known nothing different. Of all the descendants of the great heroes, only Círeth, Fëalas, and Finduilas as members of the Southern Dunédain encountered resistance and violence on a regular basis. The others were trained for it, and had experienced some of it. But it was nothing like the previous age. It was nothing like what their parents had experienced.

"Barahir, Elboron. First watch," Eldarion said. "Then wake me and Aderthon."

They nodded. One by one the others lay down for sleep, leaving the brothers to keep watch.

"Are you excited to journey north, brother?" Barahir asked Elboron quietly.

His brother sighed. "Excited? Perhaps a little. I am looking forward to seeing new lands. But I am worried for our safety, and the safety of the free lands."

Barahir nodded quietly. "Yes. As am I."

"I fear there is much amiss in the North." Elboron watched the area around them, intent on keeping a safe watch despite the conversation.

Now - Angmar

Tinneth yawned and stretched. It was the seventh day since she and her three companions had left Carn Dûm. They were set on approaching Mount Gundabad by late afternoon.

"Moramarth," Tinneth barked at the young man with dark hair and beady dark eyes. "Get up!"

"Of course, lady Tinneth!" He scrambled up and began getting the horses ready as two other men prepared breakfast.

"They know we are coming, yes?" Tinneth asked Dúnir.

The old man nodded. "They should indeed."

"Good. Because I intend to live through today."

"As do we all," Dúnir assured her. "As do we all."

After eating a quick breakfast of venison, they all hopped up on their horses and set off. The terrain was rocky at the base of the mountains, and not much grew there. What did was often poisonous, but Tinneth knew her herbs and plants from her years with the Dunedain.

Suddenly out of a rare group of trees rode three warg riders.

"Halion sent a woman?" chuckled an orc. "We do not treat with weaklings.

Tinneth narrowed her eyes. She was no weakling.