Fan Fiction ❯ Boy of Rohan ❯ Chapter 1

The young Rohirrim boy looked around the imposing hall of Helm's Deep and his small fingers tightened around the hilt of a sword that was far to large and heavy for a child his size to wield. A bow and quiver of arrows on his back weighed him down, and the too-big armor restricted his movements. The Riders of Rohan were recruiting every able-bodied male they could find, equipping them with arms and armor, and expecting them to help hold the Deeping Wall. All this little boy wanted to do was find his mother and cling to her in fear. His hands gripped the sword even tighter, tiny knuckles turning white with the pressure of his grip. He carefully edged closer to some of the adult Riders, hoping that this was all a bad dream that he would soon wake from. As he approached the Riders he could hear them talking and he settled down to listen, hoping that he would hear something good and reassuring.

"....And they say he's supposed to be the King of Gondor!" The men laughed at the comment and the boy looked up in surprise. Everyone knew that Gondor was ruled by a steward, not a king.

"Well, I heard that he's got other people with him, and Elf and a Dwarf they say." An Elf? Like in the stories about the woods of Lothlorien? His mother had told him bedtime stories about Elves, fair, noble creatures who sang and made beautiful things in their woods. They were supposed to be ruled by a Queen who was the most beautiful creature in Middle Earth, and she could work magic. The child smiled at these thoughts, he had always liked the stories about the Elves. But there couldn't be one here, right? Why would an Elf be helping Rohan?

A third man spoke up. "Its true, I've seen them. A Dwarf with a mighty axe, and a tall Elf with a bow, just like in the stories. I've never seen an Elf or a Dwarf in real life before." The boy stared at the older warrior. Really? An Elf, here? He looked around in hopes of seeing such a living legend, but could see no one but aging men and young boys; a ragged, misfit army.

"Why would an Elf throw his lot in with us? There isn't much to be gained for one such as him. It doesn't make any sense!" Indeed it didn't, his mother had told him that at one time Elves and Men were friends, and they fought together in a great war, but now they were indifferent to each other. There was no reason for an Elf to help them...

"Its because he's friends with that Aragorn, he's only here to help him. The Dwarf too. They don't really care what happens to us, they're only doing it for him." Well, that made sense, why would an Elf help them if he wasn't doing it for a friend? Still, it would be nice if he was doing it to help Rohan...and it would be nice if he had brought a few hundred of his closest friends, too.

"You are lucky though, to have seen any of them. I hear they stay with the King, and are going to lead the defense. They wouldn't just be walking around where anyone could bother them." The boy's face fell. He had been hoping to see the Elf, he had wanted to ever since he had first heard his mothers stories.

"Well, the three of them were in the armory, they had weapons, but they were getting armor. The Elf and the Man had some kind of an argument, I don't know what it was about though, they were talking in another language. Elvish I suppose?" Elvish? He would have liked to hear Elvish. But why were the Elf and his friend fighting? That didn't make any sense!

"Do you really think we have a chance, fighting against these monsters?"

"I don't know...King Theoden seems to think we do, so we'll just have to trust him."

The boy stopped listing to the older men and moved away. He didn't want to think about the upcoming battle. He was not a warrior, the closest he had ever come to training was playing war games with his friends, using sticks as swords. He looked around and sighed. No one he knew. His friends must have been taken to fight as well, but none were near him. All he wanted was to go home.... he wandered over to the stairs and sat down, carefully laying the enormous sword beside him, and buried his head in his hands. No matter how hard he tried he couldn't get the thought of the battle out of his head.

He heard a footstep behind him, and saw someone sit next to him out of the corner of his eye, but he didn't look up. He didn't want to talk to people right now, he was too scared. However, the person next to him did not seem willing to honor his wishes.

"Are you alright?"

"Yes."

"Are you sure? You looked scared."

He turned his head away from the speaker and stared hard at the wall. "Am not!"

"It's alright to be scared, you know. Even the most experienced warriors get scared sometimes."

"Really?"

"Really."

"Do you?"

"Sometimes."

Well, maybe it wasn't such a bad thing to be scared then. This seemed like a nice person, and if he said he got scared sometimes...he turned his head slightly to sneak a peak at the man out of the corner of his eye. Blond hair, kind blue eyes, and...a pointed ear? Only Elves had pointed ears! This couldn't be the Elf the men were talking about, could it? He turned to fully face his companion and stared. No man of Rohan would look like that, with his fine features, and pointed ears. This had to be the Elf... He realized that he had been staring and turned away quickly, the tips of his ears burning red with shame.

A soft laugh reached his ears and the boy looked back to see the Elf smiling at him. "It's alright, I'll bet that you've never met an Elf before, have you?"

The child shook his head, not trusting himself to speak.

The Elf shook his head slightly in amusement and extended a long-fingered hand. "I am Legolas."

"H-Hama...m-my Lord."

The Elf...Legolas...laughed again. "You may just call me Legolas."

Hama nodded slightly. Why was an Elf bothering to talk to him? He cleared his throat to buy time.

"Do...do you really get scared?"

"Yes."

"Are...are you scared now?"

Legolas smiled again. "A little. War is a frightening thing. It is when war no longer affects you that you should worry."

Hama felt a small smile creep onto his face. He liked this Elf. Then he noticed his sword out of the corner of his eye and his face fell. "I do not even know how to fight..."

Legolas glanced at the blade, then back to him. "Pick up your sword."

"What?"

"Take your sword, and I shall help you."

Hama carefully lifted the heavy blade and held it in front of him. Legolas looked him over, then moved his hands farther up the hilt. "If you hold it up here, it will be easier to balance. Hold it like this in front of you..." He moved the sword until Hama was holding it in a guard position. "Good. Now if you swing it like this..." He moved Hama through several different strokes until the boy could do them easily on his own. He looked at the bow on Hama's back. "Now, take your bow."

Hama hesitantly laid down his sword and took the bow from his back. Legolas took the bow and examined it, then looked up at Hama. "Have you ever used a bow before?"

Hama shook his head nervously. Legolas handed the bow back and showed him how to grip it. "Now, take an arrow...fit it on the string like this..."

Hama did as the Elf demonstrated and slowly pulled the arrow back. At a word from Legolas he aimed at the wall and released the arrow. It fell to the ground three feet in front of him. Legolas grinned.

"Not bad for a first try. Now, try another."

After four unsuccessful attempts the fifth arrow struck the wall, ten feet from them. "That's pretty good. If you keep improving like that you could become a great archer." Hama glowed from the praise and ducked his head, blushing slightly. A voice called Legolas's name, and a man at the bottom of the stairs said some things in a language he did not recognize. He held his breath as he listened. It was beautiful...was it Elvish? Legolas replied in the same language and turned to Hama.

"I must go now. Good luck, Hama."

Hama summoned a tentative smile, his nervousness returning as he was reminded of the upcoming battle. Legolas smiled at him reassuringly. "You will do well. Do not worry." Hama nodded, and watched as the tall Elf turned and walked down the stairs toward the Great Hall, meeting the man who had called to him at the bottom. Hama followed them with his eyes until they were lost in the crowd.

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