Aragorn rose troubled from springy green turf,
Reporting distant orc feet and clamorous horse hoof,
Something was stirring in the land of Rohan,
As the company set off and the third day began.
Twice twelve leagues they did toil and run,
Til at last they were halted by red setting sun.
Hermione, grateful that they’d finally stopped
Into a heap on the ground, tiredly flopped
Tired she was, and ever much more,
For the loss of companions had made her heart sore
And she wondered what council the morning would lend,
Would she ever, she asked, see Ron or Harry again?
None of the party slept well, it seems,
And no sleep touches the elven dreams,
Another day passed, the miles grew e’er longer,
And heavy spirits’ power grew ever stronger
Then light was step and swift was pace,
For thin smoke curled — of the orcs a trace,
And coming toward them were courageous horsemen
Yellow of hair, bright of spear, the Rohirrim
Horses flew by, glist’ning and gleaming,
Long tails of silk, flowing and streaming,
Aragorn called, and swiftly they turned,
This man’s identity had to be learned
Soon the crew was encircled, spears at their throats,
And tension rose silently like tiny dust motes,
The leader rode forward, looking fierce and grand,
And nervously Hermione lightly touched her wand
Eomer, son of Eomund, proclaimed his name,
Then Gimli, son of Gloin, did the same,
But Eomer had insulted the Lady of the Wood,
And Gimli toward him meant little good
Legolas’s bow was strung,
Hermione’s wand was drawn,
Eomer’s blade did gleam,
In the bright morning sun,
And on Gimli’s axe, a golden sheen . . .
And Aragorn had to interveen
“Peace,” said he, “we mean no harm,
We hunt only servants of Sauron,
They captured our true and valiant friends
An act which to us this long chase bends
I am Aragorn, son of Arathorn,
Who bears the sword, broken and reborn again,
Will you aid me or thwart me?
Choose wisely and swiftly.”
Then all wer hushed, for upon his brow,
Danced a glittering flame, a silver crown,
Elessar, Isildur’s heir, the great Elfstone,
A true king of old, reclaiming his throne
Then Eomer said that the search was futile,
The orcs were burned, their bones in a pile
None had escaped, of that they were sure,
For they had allowed no-one safety to procure
Yet then he was reminded of Elvish raiment,
Which hides its wearer, though eyes be bent
It had concealed the company while in day they rode by,
Could it not cloak hobbits under an ebony sky?
So tidings were shared as they prepared to go on,
Of Gandalf’s fall and the rise of Wormtongue,
Against cunning Saruman the crew was warned,
The horsemen that war’s prospect was not to be scorned
As they went steeds were given, great Arod and Hasufel,
And a promise that Aragorn to return would not fail,
For if he were to leave forever with only parting ado,
Then Eomer and his men would be in a right stew
At last they reached the orc campsite,
As afternoon faded to arrogant night,
But no trace of the captives had yet been found,
Until Hermione stumbled ‘cross a phial on the ground
She said, “Lumos!” held it up to flickering flame,
And watched liquid droplets play in a joyful game,
Surely left here by Ron, a sign to track and to take,
But here is where Hermione made an enormous mistake
SEVERAL NOTES BY THE AUTHOR:
1. About Wormtongue — I know Eomer doesn’t necessarily mention him specifically, but he does talk about sudden unfriendliness to strangers, of the fall from favor of Gandalf Greyhame, including the unwillingness of Theoden to listen to his tale about Saruman, and the lack of king’s leave to kill the orcs. Now, while many of these can be attributed in part to other sources, they generally do point to the rising influence of Grima over the king.
2. On a similar note, I realize that some of the speech is not exactly accurate. I did my best while still retaining poetry. Honest.
3. If you haven’t read the other parts of Lordo Fring and find this somewhat confusing, starting so abruptly and all, you might want to backtrack a bit.
4. Have a great day, and I’d appreciate comments and suggestions!