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Shadow of the Fellowship

Gúthwinë

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He had spent his whole life inside the walls of Edoras. Wooden or not, they we protection he took for granted. His parents were merely common farmers, that was the destiny of his life if it wasn't for that man. Wormtongue they called him, advisor to the failing king. He took no liking to the boy ever since his parents revealed his name to the worm. Elec, the boy was called. An improper name for a boy from Rohan. Elec was shunned by every boy and girl his age, even his parents gave him a look that made him feel unwelcomed. If it wasn't for Eomer, nephew of the king, Elec would have left Edoras sooner. The man understood him, knew that he was different. So Elec stayed, learning from the Rohirrim. Even when his parents moved outside the walls, Elec stayed. He learned to wield a sword and shield, to ride a horse, he even learned of the many herbs of healing from Eomer's sister, Eowyn. Life was good, that was, until Grima Wormtongue found his closeness to Eowyn, threatening.

Elec was of no importance to the court, thus when Eomer was banished from the kingdom of Rohan, Elec wasn't sentenced. Soon after it was clear that Eomer's presence was the only thing keeping Grima at bay. His lackeys, men of weak minds but were large in muscle began to stalk Elec during his stays at the Golden Hall. Eowyn saw Elec less and less, which made Grima more and more smug. The banishment of Eomer coupled with the death of Theodred left Eowyn cold-hearted. Grima finally grew tired of Elec, now nearing the age that allowed him to join the Rohirrim, and to court a bride. Elec's friendship with Eowyn caused Grima to thirst for Elec's blood, and finally, on the eve of Elec's seventeenth birthday, Grima's thugs came for him.
 

Gúthwinë

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"Awake! Elec! Wake up!" The deep voice cut right into Elec's sub-concious. Elec snapped his eyes open, seeing nothing but the darkness of his room. A sudden spark and a light in the center of the room revealed the voice. An elderly man stood before him, a look of terror in his dark gray eyes.

"Who are you?" Elec asked, quickly standing up and pulling his shirt over his bare chest. "I've never seen you before."

"There's no time to explain, Grima and his gang of miscreant thugs are after your blood!" The lantern in his hand shook, his hands white-knuckled over the handle.

"What do you mean...after me...what did I do?" Elec rubbed what sleep remained out of his eyes, which now grew wide.

"Your closeness to Eowyn, the King's niece, has troubled him, troubled him enough to..." The old man stopped, the clang of a falling jar ripped through the quiet room. Elec reached for his shortsword, drawing it out of its sheath. "You can't fight all of them!" The man hissed, "Go through the window, a horse is saddled in the stables."

"And then what? Leave Rohan?" Elec snapped.

"No...go to Helm's Deep, you'll find what you need there." The old man's fear melted away, instead wisdom and power took its place.

"Who...who are you?" Elec asked, strapping his sword to his hip, and a buckler to his back.

"As I recall, my name is Gandalf, I am here to make sure you survive this night." He pointed towards the window, "If you don't mind, they'll be here soon." Several loud pairs of footsteps confirmed his statement. Elec nodded, leaping up onto the windowsill. "Oh and Elec..." Elec turned back, "If you should find yourself meeting anyone, be sure to be friendly." With a quizzical look upon his face, Elec shrugged and leaped from the sill.
 

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