The Lord of the... whatever, Book III, Chapter 2:

The Raiders Of Rohan

  Merciful Elbereth, is this the end of Little Arwen?
  The annoying but loveable Elven Warrior Princess was travelling
towards Gondor™, but had lost her way in the marshes of Ment-
wash vale. The fog surrounded her from all sides, and with every
step she was in danger of being swallowed by the bog. She had
been forced to abandon all her packings, and her strength was
diminishing quickly. Finally she collapsed on a small isle in the
middle of the marshes. She knew that she could go on no more.
The Marshes of Mentwash vale had defeated her.
  Then an image came to her mind, like a foresight at the moment
of Death; Aragon holding hands with a blond Human-Girl, a tall and
well-equipped one too - with sword and all. And suddenly she felt
her strength returning. She forced herself to rise and cursed in an
ancient, forgotten tongue: Tega me borne rosa!
  With her newly found determination she continued her dangerous
journey, and soon she came across a great stroke of luck, which
no-one could have expected.

  Aragon knew all was lost. He couldn't find the trail of Orcs, and
soon his companions were sure to discover this. After that nobody
would take him seriously ever again.  Who could have guessed
tracking would turn out to be so difficult? But there was nothing to
be done. The hills of Emyn Mail had defeated him.
  But in his most desperate hour, he came across a great stroke of
luck... Well anyway, he was examining the ground, trying to look as
he knew what he was doing, when:
  "Oh, lookie! There are some dead Orcs up ahead," cried Lego-
  Aragon sprang to his feet and gazed to the direction Lego-lass
was pointing. And lo! Indeed there was a bunch of dead orcs lying
in a pile. He went forward to investigate, and others followed him.
  Five dead orcs lay there, brutally slain, severed limbs and heads
spreaded around them. The ground was wet with their dark blood,
but there was no telling if the blood had been red earlier.
  "What do you think happened here?" said Giggly.
  "It looks like there's been a quarrel among Orcs," said Aragon.
"It's not uncommon among these foul creatures to have flaming
debates about issues like Balrogs wings and it usually ends up to
this. These five are all northern Orcs who claim Balrogs don't have
wings. It appears they lost this round."
  "Serves them right for speaking such nonsense," declared Lego-
lass. Aragon was about to contridict, when Giggly interrupted him.
  "Look!" he cried. " A silver magical belt of Elvish fashion like 
those given to Morrie and Pipsqueak by Galadriel."
  "Hmm, the Orcs must have noticed they are fakes. . ."
  "Wait! There's a note attached to it," said Lego-lass. "It is a
message from the Hobbits. The handwriting looks like of 7-year
old, so I think it's from Pipsqueak. Listen!

                      A Message From The Hobbits

       I am writing to you with the courtesy of the Enemy.
       We are both alive and well.
       We are treated decently.
       Food here is delicious and nourishing.
       The Orcs are peace-loving and friendly folk, and
       their Lord, (S)Aruman only wishes to discuss briefly
       about our attitude toward his Subpoena and other issues.
       After this, we shall be released at proper time.
       DO NOT try to follow us. We're having a good time. Really.
       Be also noted that as it was recently decided, at this place,
       Balrogs DO have w-
       No, I wont write that! You can't make me! No! NO!

  Everyone fell silent for a while. Finally Aragon spoke.
  "So, Aruman is behind this as I suspected. Apparently he thinks
his name should be written with S. Old fool!
  "But why doesn't the letter say anything about Arwen or the other
Hobbits? What evil plot is Aruman hatching?"
  "Yes, and why would anyone write AARGGH, instead of saying it?"
  "We won't find out by standing here," said Aragon. "Let us hurry!"

  Fortunately for Aragon the trail was very clearly marked from there
on, and he had no trouble following it to the top of the hills. This was
the border wall of Rohan, where the hills of Emyn Mail ended and
the green plains of Riddlemark stretched below them to the edge
of sight. But Aragon looked to the left, where the Off-White Mountains
stood glimmering in the morning sun.
  "Gondor™! Gondor™!" cried Aragon. "I wish that I could visit
your night-clubs again in Happy-Hour! Alas, not yet can I relax.

            Gondor, Gondor, Gondor!
            It's the country where I liked to be.
            Between the Mountains and Sea,
            So near to Mordor, yet so far from Bree.

            Gondor, Gondor, Gondor!
            Where the Trading Markets are free.
            There's a throne and the Silver Tree,
            And maybe a Crown for Me!

Now let's go before I change my mind!" he said and turned away.
  The ridge upon which they stood went down steeply in front of
them and Aragon was trying to look for the best place to go down,
when a shadow like two wings went pass the sunlight.
  "Look!" cried Lego-lass. "A Balrog! A Balrog is flying above us!
Ai! Ai!- you know the drill."
  "Would you stop that already!" said Aragon. "It was just an Eagle."
  "No, no, it was a Balrog, I'm sure of that!" insisted Lego-lass. "It
had legs and arms and I think it waved at us when it went by. Oh,
this is amazing! To tell you the truth, I've sometimes had doubts
about it, but now I've seen it with my own eyes. A flying Balrog!
Oh, what a glorious day!"
  Oo-kay. Lego-lass has gone bye-bye, thought Aragon. What
an ill fortune, and I'm already depressed.

  After Lego-lass had calmed down they made their way down the
hillside, but halfway down Giggly lost his balance and, trying to 
get support from the others, he sent the whole threesome rolling 
down. And so, with a strange suddenness  they came together on the 
grass of Rohan.
  Lego-lass took a deep breath and exhaled. "Everything looks so
gree-een," she said, blinking her eyes.
  "Now the real Pursuit begins," declared Aragon. "We shall catch
those Orcs, and forever shall our names be remembered among
Elves, Humans and Dwerws. Onward, three Predators!"
  They went in single file, running like hounds on a strong scent of
a poor helpless fox, hunted to the pleasure of rich dimwits. Soon,
however, they had to stop, for they were terribly out of shape and
already exhausted. Only Lego-lass was as perky as ever.
  Aragon breathed heavily. "My lungs are collapsing," he said.
"I really should quit smoking pipeweed."
  "This is a bitter end to all our toil!" said Giggly. "At least I 
hope it is."
  "To toil maybe, but we can always hope that those Orcs run into
some kind of trouble," said Lego-lass. "Look!"
  This time there was more then dozen cruelly mutilated Orc-corpses
on their path. It looked like many were cut down from behind.
  "What do you think, Aragon?" said Lego-lass. "Looks like another
  "Not necessarily," said Aragon. "Orcs have hundreds of undecided
issues to debate and they all can turn into a bloodshed. You know,
with some luck these Orcs may yet flame each other extinct. Anyway,
I think it's clear that we are not going to reach them in time, so from
now on we will take things a little more easily."

  They went on, this time with no rush. Every now and then more Orc-
corpses came their way. Giggly and Lego-lass discovered that
counting dead Orcs aloud seemed to really irritate Aragon. When
they made camp for the night, their bodycount was way over fifty.
  In the middle of the night something mighty queer went on. Aragon
was half-asleep, listening to the voices of Lego-lass and Giggly. The
Elf-Maid was persisting in something and Giggly was rejecting her, but 
his objections sounded less and less convincing. Suddenly Aragon
seemed to realize that someone was crawling next to him. Then he
felt two soft hands touching him gently. Still not sure if he was awake
or dreaming, he tried weakly to struggle against it, but then he heard
a familiar voice whispering softly: "Stop resisting my love, you know
you want it. And this is such a good spot for a Love Scene."
  Aragon wasn't so sure about it, but then he thought, Why not. They
can always edit it out if need be.
  When morning came all was peaceful again. Aragon woke up still
unsure if he had dreamed the whole thing. Then he noticed a curiously 
sticky feeling in his pants, but it was only a melted candy-bar he 
had forgotten in his pocket.

  Everybody seemed strangely quiet that day, as they walked by the
beautiful but empty golf-courses of Rohan. Both Aragon and Giggly
were concentrating on their inner thoughts and were paying only a
little attention to the outside world.
  Giggly was struggling with a major identity crisis. Every now and
then his eyes wandered to the figure of the fair Elf-Maid walking in
front of him. Desperately he tried to fight the thoughts coming to his
  I am not an Elf-Lover, he kept saying to himself. Am not, am not,
am not! It's just the pressure of the journey getting to me. It's like
being in the sea for many months without a sight of a Lady-Dwarf.
It would happen to anyone! I am just like all others, a healthy
normal Dwarf-Guy, keen on Dwerrow-lasses. That's right, definitely
right. Beard is sexy, beard is sexy, beard is sexy, oh Oolee look
at those legs!
  Who the heck was killing all those Orcs? Aragon was thinking to
himself. Were they really just fighting with themselves? Or was
there a group of Riders attacking them? And who molested me last
night, or was it just a dream? The questions kept bouncing around
his head, until he came up with a most unsuspected answer. Arwen!
What if Boromir had been lying when he said Arwen was captured
too? Maybe she came to the camp later and, thinking they had gone
to Gondor™, followed them. And then she could have found an
Eagle, willing to give her a lift right here! And with her magic boots
she could have moved around fast enough to kill the Orcs and then
to seduce me last night! That's probably what had happened.
  Then he came to his senses and shook his head in despair. It
was simply too farfetched. Not believable at all! Truth was that
Arwen was a helpless prisoner of merciless Orcs without a chance
of escape, and he was equally incapable of helping her. Tears
burned in his eyes, as he walked along without seeing anything.
  Only Lego-lass seemed free of all care, walking with a delicate
grace over the grasslands, singing softly some less-known Elven-
songs about interracial love-affairs.

  Two more days went by this way. Nobody came to Aragon at night-
time, but dead Orcs still kept blocking the path regulaly. Then, on
the fourth day of their "pursuit", a thunderous roar of galloping hoofs
awoke them from their afternoon siesta.
  Aragon yawned and streched himself. "Lego-lass, be a dear and
check out who's coming," he said lazily.
  "Well, there seems to be a group of Riders coming our way," said
the Elf-Maid. "Four scores and seven of them, to be exact. They
are tall, yellow haired humans and their leader is. . . is. . . Oh,
c'mon! This is getting ridiculous!"
  The others sprang to their feet. They gazed at the approaching
horsemen, trying to see what had so upset Lego-lass. Soon it
became obvious to them also.
  The Riders formed a circle around the three companions. Then
the Leader rode forward and halted in front of them.
  "Suprised to see me?" she asked.
  "Not much, Eowynn," said Aragon. "It should have been clear to
everyone that you were not going to settle for being dropped to
second place in the upcoming movie."
  Eowynn, who by the way was a great-looking, six foot tall blonde,
tried to look as innocent as she could.
  "I don't know what you're talking about," she said. "There were
some Orcs running around our courses and they needed to be
taken care of. I only came because my brother Eonerd was busy
trying to get Cable Connection fixed."
  "You mean...?"
  "Just that! Ever since that horse came back from Gandalf, it's
been completely off-line.
  "But enough of that. It seems that somebody went up ahead and
already killed most of the Orcs, so I guess I'll have to settle for you.
Here! You are illegally tresspassing the Green Fields of Rohan®.
Do you have anything to say, before we run you over?"
  Giggly stepped forward. "I have something to say to you, Horse-
Lady," he said and his dark eyes flashed.
  A short pause...
  "Please don't kill us! Pleeease! I'll do anything! Did you hear?
  Eowynn looked at the Dwarf and shivered. "I think I'll pass that,"
she said. "Prepare to die!"
  "Uh, did I mention that I am Aragon son of Arathon, Elessar the
Elvenstone and the Heir of Isildur?" said Aragon quickly. "If you
should consider letting us go, I could make it worthwhile to you as
soon as I get my Kingdom back."
  "Hmm, let's see if we can work out an agreement," said Eowynn.

  Eowynn dismounted, and she and Aragon walked a little bit away
from the others. Eowynn looked quickly to be sure no-one was close
enough to hear them.
  "Can you get me a Green Card?" she said to Aragon. "As a King,
you can surely pull a few strings and get it arranged."
  "I wanna move to Gondor™," Eowynn explained. "I don't want
to spend my whole life, living among these bagpipe-playing
rednecks. I am a modern, independent woman and I have other
ambitions beside riding around and tending golf-courses. But I
need the Working-Licence so that I can start my own business in
Gondor™. Can you get me one?"
  "Uh, I'm afraid, that's the one thing not even a King can do. Those
Gondorians™ have strong feelings about immigration. If I tried some-
thing like that, I would have Revolution in my hands within a week."
  "Then there is no hope for me," said Eowynn bitterly. "Sigh.
I might as well ride into battle to seek Death."
  "Well, there is one way, of course," said Aragon. "I could arrange
you a Convenial Marriage with some Gondorian™. Then you'd have
no problem getting the Green Card. But first you have to get your-
self to Gondor™ somehow, and that's not going to be easy."
  "I guess I could do that," said Eowynn after hesitation. "But it has
to be someone with social status. A Lawyer maybe. Or a Doctor."
  "So, it is settled then?" said Aragon.
  Eowynn looked intensely at the man standing in front of her. And
suddenly she could see the great strength and royality that was
concealed inside his bit overweight and slobbish body, like a V6-
engine under the hood of a T-model Ford. She took a hold of his
hands, and he felt that she trembled at the touch.
  "Why don't you marry me then?" she said, looking deeply in his
eyes. "And not just for cover-up, for I can see that we were meant
for each other. Come with me to the Edoras-City and we can have
our wedding right away."
  "Eowynn, you are a beautiful and desirable woman," said Aragon
carefully. "Alas, my heart belongs to another! And since she was a
prisoner of those Orcs, we both were pursuing, I must go and seek
  "But your quest is a hopeless one. If she was with the Orcs, when
we surrounded the last of them near the Forest, she was probably
killed and burned with the others. Um, sorry about that..."
  "Nevertheless, I must see it with my own eyes," said Aragon.
  Then something less important came to his mind. "You didn't by
chance happen to find a Ring, did you? A nice golden thing, on a
chain. No, huh? Oh, it was nothing important."
  "I am saddened by this," said Eowynn. "But if this is your choice,
I will accept it. But promise me, that you will come to Edoras-City,
when your quest is over."

  Thus agreeing they parted. As a part of their agreement Eowynn
lent them the three spare horses, but for some reason Lego-
lass and Giggly wanted to ride on a same horse. They took the
third one along anyway, for Arwen and the Hobbits (should they 
find them).
  When the Riders had disappeared from the sight, Giggly and
Lego-lass wanted to know how Aragon had been able to convince
Eowynn to let them go.
  "Well, it wasn't easy," said Aragon modestly. "But when I said to
her that Good and ill have not changed since yesteryear and it's a
man's part to discern them, she was so impressed that she agreed
to everything I suggested."
  This made everybody laugh out loud, as they rode forward in a
bright daylight, and Aragon was happy that he managed to avoid
any further inquires.
  Early that evening, they came to the edge of the forest. They found
the remains of the great burning, and tried searching for the Ring in
the ashes, but found nothing. Also, not a single trace could tell them
if anyone could have escaped from the battlefield, but we must
remember that Aragon was lousy at woodcraft.
  Aragon was heartbroken. Arwen is dead, he thought hopelessly.
And even though she may one day reincarnate in the West, I will
never see her again. It seemed like all the joy and happiness had
left his life, and all that remained was Misery.
  Then he remembered Eowynn. She was a good-looking babe, and
she obviously got the hots for him. Maybe all was not lost after all.
  "Tomorrow we shall ride to Edoras-City," he said to others.
"I have an Indecent Proposal to be made."
  But during the night their horses were stolen or driven away.
Suspicions turned to an Old Man, whom they had seen snooping
around the camp, and whom Aragon had called "Uncle".

Book III, Chapter One / Table of Contents / Book III, Chapter Three
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This chapter of this epic work is presented through the courtesy of Morgil <rimlos-aaaaaaat-hotmail-dawt-com>. Copyright © 2000 by the author. All rights reserved. Some variance between this e-text and the original printed material by Professor Tolkien is inevitable. Using this as an electronic resource for scholarly or research purposes may lead to a certain degree of academic embarassment. All agree that the printed version of the text, available from respectable publishers such as Houghton Mifflin and Ballantine Books, is to be preferred. Gondor™ is a trademark of Saul Zaentz and Tolkien Enterprises, who hold all merchandising rights to Gondor™ and its subsidiaries. The Edoras Board Of Tourism invites you to scenic Rohan! Visit out splendid fields of green grass! Sample our many cultural anachronisms! Enjoy local surprises in the evening! Call 1-800-GO-EDORAS for reservations. Tales of tourists being ridden down and murdered by the occasional éored have been greatly exaggerated.