Niphredil Elentary (Legolas love story/ third book)

Chapter 3: Dunharrow

"There was no lie in Pippin's eyes." Said Gandalf aloud. They all had gathered in the great hall. Niphredil had stood between Legolas and Gimli. Pippin had sat on a chair and Merry had stood next to him.

"A fool...but an honest fool he remains." Said Gandalf and looked at Pippin fondly. "He told Sauron nothing of Frodo and the Ring. We've been strangely fortunate. Pippin saw in the Palantir a glimpse of the enemy's plan. Sauron moves to strike the city of Minas Tirith. His defeat at Helm's Deep showed our enemy one thing. He knows the heir of Elendil has come forth. Men are not as weak as he supposed. There is courage still, strength enough perhaps to challenge him. Sauron fears this. He will not risk the peoples of Middle-earth uniting under one banner. He will raze Minas Tirith to the ground before he sees a king return to the throne of Men. Rohan must be ready for war." He said the last part toward Theoden who was thoughtful. "we can't stay here. If we don't help Gondor and it falls, the fires of Mordor will burn Rohan soon. It's better we unite and fight together. We will have more chance." He said.

Gandalf nodded. "I will go to Gondor. They must be warned." Said Aragorn.

"No! They will be. You must come to Minas Tirith by another road. Follow the river. Look to the black ships." Said Gandalf to Aragorn. He then turned to all of them. "Understand this: Things are now in motion that cannot be undone. I ride for Minas Tirith" he said and then turned to Pippin. "and I won't be going alone. Go and pack Peregrin Took. You will come with me." He said and pointed to Pippin whose eyes grew wide. Merry's face became grim.

"Niphredil! follow me, Please. We should talk." Said Gandalf and beckoned to Niphredil. she went after him and they stood outside, under the light of the sun. he put his hand on her shoulder. "tell me how are you. I know what has happened for you last night. I know Sauron has talked to you." He said quietly.

Niphredil shivered. "I'm fine, Gandalf. I defeated him in the last seconds." She answered quietly. Gandalf nodded his head. "Love is a miracle, Niphredil. use it to fight with Sauron. Be careful. Never underestimate him. he is still more powerful than you." Warned Gandalf. Niphredil nodded. Gandalf kissed her forehead. "take care of the others. I will see you soon." Said Gandalf. Pippin and Merry came out too. "farewell, Elentary. Till our next meeting." Said Gandalf and rushed down the stairs. Niphredil knelt in front of Pippin and kissed his forehead. "be careful, Pippin. Take care of Gandalf." She said.

Pippin nodded and went after Gandalf with Merry. Niphredil stood on the platform and watched the two hobbits. They were like brothers. The thought of them being apart made her heart heavy.

Niphredil felt a little light headed. She was so much tired but she couldn't close her eyes. Whenever she closed them, she was seeing Sauron. she went back inside and to her room and sat on the edge of the bed. Someone knocked at the door and Legolas came in.

"you must rest. After last night you must have rest, but you stayed awake because of Pippin." He said worried and sat next to her and draped his arm around her and pulled her closer. Niphredil leaned her head on his shoulder. "I can't. every time I close my eyes, I saw him." she whispered.

Legolas gritted his teeth and tightened his hold on her. He then did something. He stood and locked the door and then went and lied on the bed. Niphredil watched him questioningly. He patted the place next to him. "come. I will help you sleep for a while. Theoden wants to ride to Dunharrow soon, but they will ride for there in afternoon. There is so much time left. Come." He said.

Niphredil stared at him for a while, but then slowly went and lied down next to him. Legolas put his hand on her back and pulled her closer so their bodies were pressed to each other. Niphredil flushed a bit but a great feeling of security and peace made her close her eyes. Legolas smiled at her and kissed her forehead. "sleep, Niphredil. I'm here." He whispered. His voice was the last thing Niphredil heard before she fell asleep.

***

It was an hour past noon when they finally started to ride to Dunharrow. Niphredil had slept till noon and had gained most of her energy thanks to Legolas. The riders were all gathered in front of the gates of the city, sat ready on their horses.

"Now is the hour." Said Eomer aloud. "Riders of Rohan, oaths you have taken. Now, fulfill them all. To lord and land!" and with that, all of the riders began to ride to the Dunharrow. Eowyn was coming with them to there.

The third day of their journey to Dunharrow was waning. Darkness had already crept beneath the murmuring fir-woods that clothed the steep mountain-sides. They rode now slowly at the end of the day. When at last they came to the bottom of the gorge they found that evening had fallen in the deep places. The sun was gone. Twilight lay upon the waterfalls.

All day far below them a leaping stream had run down from the high pass behind and now through a stony gate it flowed out and passed into a wider vale. The Riders followed it, and suddenly Harrowdale lay before them. There the white Snowbourn, joined by the lesser stream, went rushing down to Edoras and the green hills and the plains. Away to the right at the head of the great dale the mighty Starkhorn loomed up above its vast buttresses swathed in cloud, but its jagged peak, clothed in everlasting snow, gleamed far above the world, blue-shadowed upon the East, red-stained by the sunset in the West.

In the deepening dusk they came down into the valley. Here the Snowbourn flowed near to the western walls of the dale, and soon the path led them to a ford where the shallow waters murmured loudly on the stones. The ford was guarded. As the king approached many men sprang up out of the shadow of the rocks, and when they saw the king they cried with glad voices: "Théoden King! Théoden King! The King of the Mark returns!"

Then one blew a long call on a horn. It echoed in the valley. Other horns answered it, and lights shone out across the river.

And suddenly there rose a great chorus of trumpets from high above.

So the King of the Mark came back victorious out of the West to Dunharrow beneath the feet of the White Mountains. There he found the remaining strength of his people already assembled.

They rode forward and saw a few captains. suddenly the path began to climb. They were on a road the like of which he had never seen before. Upwards it wound, coiling like a snake, boring its way across the sheer slope of rock. Steep as a stair, it looped backwards and forwards as it climbed. Up it horses could walk, and wains could be slowly hauled, but no enemy could come that way, except out of the air, if it was defended from above. Only the king and his guard were going up into the Hold.

At last the king's company came to a sharp brink, and the climbing road passed into a cutting between walls of rock, and so went up a short slope and out on to a wide upland. The Firienfeld men called it, a green mountain-field of grass and heath, high above the deep-delved courses of the Snowbourn, laid upon the lap of the great mountains behind: the Starkhorn southwards, and northwards the saw-toothed mass of Írensaga, between which there faced the riders, the grim black wall of the Dwimorberg, the Haunted Mountain rising out of steep slopes of sombre pines. Dividing the upland into two there marched a double line of unshaped standing stones that dwindled into the dusk and vanished in the trees. Those who dared to follow that road came soon to the black Dimholt under Dwimorberg, and the menace of the pillar of stone, and the yawning shadow of the forbidden door.

Then they saw that there were clusters of tents and booths on either side of the stony way, but these were not set near the trees, and seemed rather to huddle away from them towards the brink of the cliff. The greater number were on the right, where the Firienfeld was wider, and on the left there was a smaller camp, in the midst of which stood a tall pavilion.

The riders unmounted, tired of the long journey.