26. The Weight Of Fate

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The next day I continued to walk with the rest of the Rohan people on our way to Helm’s Deep, with Eowyn by my side. Legolas was nowhere in sight as he walked far on the front. 

For a brief moment Eowyn was leaving my side to talk to her uncle at the back. 

A tall, muscly Rohirrim rider came beside me, smiling politely and initiated a polite small talk with me. His name was Hilram. After some time talking, he kindly offered me a ride with him, seeing that I was walking alone. I refused his offer politely, telling him I preferred to walk. He looked disappointed, but nodded in understanding.

"Why, if I may ask. Do you fear horses? I can't help but notice that the eldar (elf kind) offered you a ride with him yesterday, yet you refused just as well."

"I have my reasons," I said vaguely, "And I've never been on a horse before. I figured I would be much more comfortable walking. I'm used to it," I said smiling politely.

For some reason I thought he looked pleased by my answer. For what reason, I didn't know. I was quick to shrug that thought away, not seeing how it was of any importance. Then Eowyn rejoined me and Hilram excused himself and bowed at us before leaving to rejoin his comrades.

Eowyn sent worrying glances at me as I struggled to keep up. My injuries ached and fatigue came faster than usually, but I kept going and proceeded as normal as everyone else and smiled at the young shield maiden.

The moment I dreaded of was nearing. A foreboding feeling along with darkness once again loomed over my head. My hand clutched on my bow tightly, preparing for the worst. I bet Legolas was also feeling the same thing as I– wherever he might be. The elf had been tense the last time I saw him today.

Not long after, my greatest fear at the moment materialized when a scout came to us in a gallop, screaming, setting everyone in alarm. 

"WARGS! WE ARE UNDER ATTACK!!"

Chaos ensued. Panic was thick in the air as  people began to yell and scatter in fear. Then, giant creatures that resembled wolves as big as Aslan the Lion came in with orcs riding them.

I mean, of course comparing them to a gracious, merciful creature from the fantasy Narnia movie was not a great depiction– but think of the wargs as uglier, nastier and evil version of Aslan. In other words:

Holy shit

I focused on myself harder to block the overwhelming emotions around me and pulled an arrow from my quiver. My eyes searched frantically for Legolas, but he was nowhere to be seen. I cursed and decided to run along with Eowyn, who was leading the women and children to the direction of Helm's Deep. 

I shot my arrows on several orcs and wargs that followed the women and children who fell behind that were way too close for my liking. More orcs were shot than missed. I was relieved by the fact that somehow I wasn't a complete burden being in here, that I could help as well. That, until I ran out of arrows.

Dammit.

Time for Plan B: Run.

***

"Make way for the king!"

I stood on my tiptoes to look over the heads of the crowd that tried to get back to their loved ones that had just arrived from fighting the orcs and wargs we met on the way here to Helm's Deep. But so few of the men came back.

I sighed in defeat, knowing that I had no way to pass these crowd. Worry filled me as I didn't get to see Legolas and Gimli.

In the midst of the thick crowd, someone bumped against me, making me stagger and momentarily lost balance. A pair of warm arms encircled me from behind and I jumped in surprised before realizing that it was Legolas. 

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