Disclaimer: I only own Alice. All characters, people, and places (aside from Alice) belong to J.R.R. Tolkien and Peter Jackson.
The wind blowing through the wheat fields sting Alice's cheeks. It's been a long time since that fateful night in New Orleans, when she was chased by those ominous men. She's matured in many ways, been imbued with the spirit of an ancient warrior, fallen in love with two completely different men, and watched one of them die. Now she's charging across unfamiliar landscape, only mildly aware of where she is (thanks strictly to what little Aragorn has told her, and to her studies back in Rivendell), without food, water, and extremely little rest. It is now only sheer willpower that is keeping her going, and most of it is Fingolfin's. She's too out of focus to care that they're finally leaving the dreaded Emyn Muil.
Aragorn suddenly stops, and drops to the ground. He lies with his eyes closed and his ear pressed against the dirt, listening. Just as suddenly, he stands back up again.
"Their pace has quickened…" he murmurs softly, climbing to his feet. "They must have caught our scent, hurry!"
Alice charges after him over a hill, adrenaline allowing her to continue running. Legolas follows behind her, and she's vaguely aware of Gimli stumbling. The Elf Prince stops and turns, telling the Dwarf to come along before running after the two mortals. Gimli struggles up the hill, and Fingolfin's hearing allows her to know what he mutters to himself.
"Three days and nights pursuit. No food. No rest. And no sign of our quarry but what bare rock can tell."
They reach the east wall of Rohan in what is probably record time. Alice figures there may be some trouble once they enter Rohan, but of what sort, she doesn't know. The four of them run through the open plains, when Aragorn suddenly stoops down, seeing something in the mud.
"Not idly do the leaves of Lórien fall." He says to himself as Alice and Legolas stop at his sides. She recognizes the Elvish brooch, as she still wears her identical one.
"They may yet be alive." The blonde one next to her says, and the ranger studies the ground once more.
"Less than a day ahead of us." He takes off at a brisk pace yet again, "Come!"
"Come, Gimli! We are gaining on them!" Legolas encourages the Dwarf after he has, once again, stumbled. He pants heavily.
"I am wasted on cross-country. We dwarves are natural sprinters. Very dangerous over short distances." Aragorn and Alice are careful to not laugh.
They come over another hill, and pause to gaze over the open fields of Rohan.
"Rohan. Home of the Horse-lords. There's something strange at work here. Some evil gives speed to these creatures. Sets its will against us." Alice nods at Aragorn's words, as she has sensed it, too. Legolas runs forward a bit, up onto a rock. "Legolas! What do your Elf eyes see?"
"The Uruks turn northeast. They're taking the Hobbits to Isengard!" "And so, the greatest meme is born."
"Saruman." The ranger says, poison in his voice.
They run. The Orcs run as though the very whips of their masters were on their heels, as Legolas so eloquently puts it. Alice runs, knowing that the lives of two young Hobbits rest on her shoulders, and that stopping for a moment could mean their deaths. They stop for nothing, not even a moment's rest. Gimli reminds himself to keep breathing, and Alice uses his reminder to remind herself. She's never had to run for four days straight before, night and day, day and night. It is an exhausting pursuit.
Dawn comes the next morning, and the sun is drenched in red flames. Legolas looks upon it with dread.
"A red sun rises. Blood has been spilled this night." Alice decides to not correct his horrid science, but instead, continue to run.
Later…
Aragorn quickly gestures his three companions to hide behind a rock formation. Horses and their riders come over a hill, the hooves stamping wildly. The ranger calmly comes out of hiding, and calls out to them.
"Riders of Rohan, what news from the Mark?"
Only seconds pass for the four of them to be quickly surrounded by the riders. They form a tight circle around them, and point their spears. Aragorn's hands are up in surrender. One rides forward a bit and addresses them from his steed.
"What business does an Elf, a Man, a woman, and a Dwarf have in the Riddermark? Speak quickly!"
"Give me your name, horse-master, and I shall give you mine." Gimli says defiantly.
"Didn't he pull this same stunt with Haldir in Lórien? Geez, he does not learn, does he?" Alice mentally shrugs.
"He's a Dwarf."
"True."
The rider hands off his spear, and gets down from his horse. Gimli nods his head in the rider's direction arrogantly, and Aragorn puts a hand on the Dwarf's shoulder to stay him.
"I would cut off your head, beard and all, Master Dwarf, if it stood but a little higher from the ground." The rider responds, and in a movement too fast for the mortal eye (from which Fingolfin is exempt) to see, Legolas nocks an arrow, pointed at the rider.
"You would die before your stroke fell." Fingolfin gives an exasperated sigh in the back of Alice's mind, and she quickly silences him. There's a tense moment where all the spears are pointed at Legolas, and Alice's hand silently moves to Ringil's hilt, afraid for her beloved's life. Aragorn reaches across and lowers the Elf's bow.
"I am Aragorn, son of Arathorn. This is Gimli, son of Glóin, Alice, daughter of Roxanne, and Legolas of the Woodland Realm. We are friends of Rohan and of Théoden, your king." Only Pippin's level of obliviousness would have not noticed how tense the rider's became at the word 'Roxanne', but as to why, no one knows. The rider before them, apparently, chooses to ignore it.
"Théoden no longer recognizes friend from foe." The rider removes his helmet, showing his face. "Not even his own kin." The other riders withdraw their spears. Legolas whispers softly in Elvish that this Éomer, nephew of the King to Alice so she knows. "Saruman has poisoned the mind of the king and claimed lordship over these lands. My company are those loyal to Rohan. And for that, we are banished." Éomer's voice becomes quiet and accusing. "The White Wizard is cunning. He walks here and there, they say, as an old man hooded and cloaked. And everywhere, his spies slip past our nets." Aragorn quickly defends them.
"We are no spies. We track a party of Uruk-Hai westward across the plain. They have taken two of our friends captive."
"The Uruks are destroyed. We slaughtered them during the night." Gimli springs forward, his voice going from his earlier arrogance to a new desperation.
"But there were two Hobbits. Did you see two Hobbits with them?"
"They would be small. Only children to your eyes." The ranger explains, and Éomer shakes his head.
"We left none alive. We piled the carcasses and burned them." Alice quickly looks out into the distance. Smoke rises from a pile way far out. Aragorn looks away, dumbfounded, and Gimli stands in shock.
"Dead?" The Dwarf asks quietly. Éomer nods.
"I am sorry." Legolas puts a hand on Gimli's shoulder in grief.
For some reason, Alice knows she should feel grief or mourning from the loss… but something way down deep inside knows that it's not true, and refuses to give up hope. Fingolfin advises her to trust that instinct, since there is still a chance the Hobbits could have escaped. Unfortunately, she has now gone into the second movie, which she never saw in the first place. She doesn't know this part of the story. Éomer suddenly whistles.
"Hasufel! Arod!" Two steeds move to the forefront. ÉOMER lovingly places his hand on them. "May these horses bear you to better fortune than their former masters. Farewell." Éomer puts on his helmet and returns to his horse. "Look for your friends. But do not trust to hope. It has forsaken these lands." He turns to the riders. "We ride north!"
Later…
Alice clutches Aragorn's waist, keeping her eyes shut and trying to ignore the bobbing of the horse beneath her. She's never ridden horseback before, and it's… unsettling. Originally, Alice was going to ride with Legolas, but it was decided that because of both Alice and Legolas' light weight, and Aragorn and Gimli's heavier weight, to bear one horse with a great burden would be unwise… that, and Alice and Gimli have no idea how to ride a horse. It was very quickly decided, then, that she would ride with Aragorn on Hasufel and Gimli would ride with Legolas on Arod.
They ride to the edge of Fangorn Forest, where the pile of dead Orcs still smolders. Alice clutches her nose, the smell worse than when they were alive. They all dismount and look on the pile with dismay.
It takes some time for her to get accustomed to the smell, but eventually she learns to stand it, and begins helping Gimli look through the mass burial ground. She uses Ringil to push aside the helmets and greaves, the tip of the blade leaving little pieces of ice frozen to the scorched metal before it quickly melts. The substance, the metal itself, is so foreign to her it's astounding. She cannot believe how used to this ancient way of life she has become. She sees Gimli bend over in the corner of her eye. He holds a Hobbit sheath.
"It's one of their wee belts." He says mournfully to Legolas and Aragorn behind him. The Elf bows his head and closes his eyes.
"Hiro hyn hîdh ab 'wanath." He mutters quietly. "May they find peace in death."
Aragorn kicks a helmet, screaming from the anguish…. Or from a possibly broken toe, which, Alice can't tell from this distance. He falls to his knees, his head hanging low, and despair seeming to swallow him. She can't help but to share in his pain.
"We failed them." Gimli says quietly.
Aragorn suddenly turns his head. Something on the ground seems to have caught his attention. A glimmer of hope flickers across his visage as he notes some marks on the ground. He moves towards them, and touches the spots with his hands.
"A Hobbit lay here. And the other." He sits back as though to ponder the meaning of the marks. His eyes suddenly shift again, and Alice races over to see what he's looking at. "They crawled…" Aragorn continues to follow these marks with the other three close behind. "Their hands were bound," he holds up a rope he finds laying nearby, "Their bonds were cut." He follows the tracks, muttering things about them, studying the history of their movements in the marks they left behind. "The tracks lead away from the battle…" he stops short of the forest's borders, "… into Fangorn Forest."
The four hunters look into the dense and dark forest of gnarled trees so close together, it's as if it is guarding against entry.
"Fangorn? What madness drove them in there?" Gimli says as the four stand by and debate within themselves whether they should enter or not.
Time passes…
Gimli sees a leaf stained with dark blood. He brings it to his lips, tasting it, before quickly spitting it out in disgust.
"Orc blood."
Aragorn scours the forest floor, following the tracks of the Hobbits. Legolas and Alice follow closely, fingers twined, and Gimli joins them. Aragorn suddenly halts, regarding his latest findings.
"These are strange findings." He says, and Gimli seems fearful.
"The air is so close in here." Legolas looks around, almost as if he can feel the forest, and Fingolfin does the same.
"This forest is old. Very old. Full of memory...and anger." Fear gripes Alice as she suddenly hears low groans reverberate throughout the forest. Gimli raises his axe. "The trees are speaking to each other." Aragorn notices the Dwarf's raised axe.
"Gimli!" He whispers hurriedly, and motions for him to put down his weapon. Gimli collects himself, and lowers the axe in almost surrender. Legolas is reverent.
"They have feelings, my friend. The Elves began it. Waking up the trees, teaching them to speak." Gimli is disbelieving.
"Talking trees. What do trees have to talk about? Except the consistency of squirrel droppings."
"Part of me hopes he gets his tongue cut out one day, if only to shut him up!"
"Yeah, that part of you? That would be me, retard."
Suddenly, Legolas senses something and runs off for a better look.
"Aragorn, nad nâ ennas!" Legolas moves on to search the surrounding area, Aragorn and Alice hot on his heels. " Something is out there."
"Man cenich?" The ranger asks. "What do you see?"
"The White Wizard approaches." Legolas whispers, and all four realize the gravity of his statement. Aragorn also whispers.
"Do not let him speak. He will put a spell on us." The ranger readies his sword, Gimli grips his axe a bit closer, Legolas nocks an arrow, and Fingolfin draws Ringil. "We must be quick."
With a loud yell, the four men swing round to attack, but a bright light envelops them from the wizard. Gimli throws his axe, but it shatters. Legolas launches an arrow, which is deflected. Aragorn and Fingolfin's swords become red hot in their grasps, and Andúril and Ringil clatter to the forest floor. The four hunters shield their eyes from the blinding light emanating from the White Wizard.
... And so it begins.
Next time on Alice in Middle Earth: The Two Towers:
Who is this mysterious White Wizard that sets himself against our four heroes? How will Alice come to aide Rohan? Find out next time!