OMG – 91 follows, 53 favorites and 60 (-2 from me) comments. Le hannon (Sindarin, Thank you) so much for the additional comments, favorites and follows over the last two weeks.
(I love comments best. ;-) Please help me…My mind is running out of compromising ideas.)
Disclaimer: I don't own Lord of the Rings, any of J.R.R. Tolkien's recognizable universe, or characters. Speech will be movie verse, which again, I don't own.
…
Ch 10 Dunharrow
Tabatha was called before the king. Eomer stood over his shoulder, flushed and glaring at her.
"You left Eomer a note?" he said mildly.
Tabatha smirked, before addressing Eomer. "You were asking me about Legolas and Boromir again while drunk. And not taking no for an answer. I simply left a note that we should talk this morning, when the answer might sink in."
Eomer growled at her "You tied me to the bed."
"Well, I didn't want you to smear the note." she said earnestly, blinking her eyes at him with innocence.
He looked ready to throttle her. "I was left naked!" he hissed at her, his voice rising louder.
"Well, you couldn't misplace, smear or miss the note, now could you?" She bit her lip as she attempted to keep herself from breaking down into laughter at his expression, with obvious effort. Her mirth fed Eomer's raging ire.
Face red, he all but bellowed "You bound my manhood!" The words echoed in the suddenly silent hall. Looking around, she saw they had captured the attention of the hall, and lost any perception of privacy the king had attempted to give them.
"And now anyone who didn't believe that rumor just heard it confirmed by your own lips." she smirked at him. "I never touched your precious, I only tied a band around it. It prevented you from using it until you were sober. If it was there this morning, you'll have no bastards from last night's indiscretions, at least from after I encountered you. " she chided him.
He drew back, startled at her observation.
"If you can't handle your drink, ensure you're not drunk in the future." she admonished him. "Your troops had issues getting you to stay in bed. I helped."
She dragged her eyes top to bottom and back again along his form. He flushed under her criticizing gaze. Her voice dropped lower. "You're now next in line of succession. Your troops should be worried about external threats; not concerned about your own lack of control. Grow up before life forces it upon you." she told him vehemently. "Next time I need to tie you up, I'll introduce Herbert to your ass."
Eyebrows rising at this last, Théoden nodded his agreement. "She's right. You owe her another apology."
With deadly gaze, Eomer ground one out.
Théoden looked her over critically. "I trust Herbert was an idle threat?" he said warningly.
"It wasn't idle." She smirked at Théoden, before winking. "No worries. I'm not into non-consensual. To get Herbert, he'd have to beg for it." She shot Eomer a significant look. "Last night, that wouldn't take much. He was already begging to be punished."
Eomer's breath caught as she flounced away, leaving him to face his uncle.
…
Boromir confronted her first. "Tabatha! Tell us you didn't!" he said, leading her to where the remaining Fellowship was gathered.
"That depends. What didn't I do?" she questioned with an innocent smile.
Gimli grunted. "Tied up Eomer and left a note on his chest?"
"That? Of course I did that. No worries. He apologized this morning for the necessity of my doing that." She beamed at them.
"Tabatha!" Boromir cried out. "You cannot tie up a Marshal of Rohan!"
She rolled her eyes at him. "Well then, who can?" she asked smirking up at him.
Merry watched, wide-eyed as she defended herself. Haldir peered down admonishingly from across the table. Gimli was left sputtering at her response.
"Tabatha!" Legolas groaned, closing his eyes to her obstinacy. "You know better. You've already been at odds; this does not make it better."
"Well he wouldn't stay in bed. His solders kept chasing him down the hall, and he was chasing me for answers he already was told. What else was I to do?" she cried out earnestly.
Aragorn stared her down. "Get one of us." he told her, carefully enunciating each word. "We would have handled it differently." he implored.
"I left him a note to discuss it when he was sober." she grumbled. When that statement didn't cause a change in their expressions, she retorted "He called me wench." She pouted, crossed her arms, her chin took on a stubborn tilt, and she glared down at the floor.
There was no answer, as the others continued to stare her down.
"Ok, fine. Next time a drunken man pursues me I'll send someone to wake you up." she promised. "But you have to come quick, or I'll have to handle it myself."
Aragorn's lips twitched at her reluctant agreement. The rest of the Fellowship nodded in acceptance.
She raised her head to find Legolas and Boromir. "So, did you two want to join me and answer his questions, again? I'm not sure he's convinced." she asked.
Aragorn's eyes rolled, as Boromir threw up his hands and strode away in disbelief. Gimli gripped his weapon harder, as if he would use it to knock some sense into her. Legolas sighed.
…
Aragorn ran through the doors. "The beacons of Minas Tirith! The beacons are lit! Gondor calls for aid." Aragorn shouted, his eyes imploring.
Théoden paused for an endless moment. "And Rohan will answer. Muster the Rohirrim." Théoden cried out. "Assemble the army at Dunharrow. As many men as can be found. You have two days. On the third, we ride for Gondor and war." he instructed his marshals.
"Will you ride with us?" Aragorn asked Eowyn.
"Just to the encampment. It's tradition for the women of the court to farewell the men." Eowyn informed him with a smile.
Aragorn raised a blanket on her saddle, exposing the hilt of a sword. His eyebrows raised in question.
"The men have found their captain. They will follow you into battle, even to death. You have given us hope." Eowyn told him, eyes shining brightly.
…
Gimli snorted. "Horsemen. I wish I could muster a legion of Dwarves, fully armed and filthy."
"Really? Why is filthy a requirement?" Tabatha asked curiously.
"They'd be filthy with the blood of our enemies." Gimli responded proudly.
"Your kinsmen may have no need to ride to war. I fear war already marches on their own lands." Legolas said quietly. Tabatha gripped his shoulder for a moment, grounding him. He smiled gratefully at her.
Eomer shouted "Now is the hour. Riders of Rohan, oaths you have taken. Now, fulfill them all. To lord and land! Hyah!"
Slowly the Rohirrim gathered speed to war.
…
"The horses are restless and the men are quiet." Legolas observed quietly.
Eomer responded. "They grow nervous in the shadow of the mountain."
"That road there, where does that lead?" Gimli asked, sensing the darkness swirling within.
"It is the road to the Dimholt, the door under the mountain." Legolas informed him.
"None who venture there ever return. That mountain is evil." Eomer said with a shiver.
Shooting the Dimholt road a look, Tabatha grabbed the sleeves of both Boromir and Haldir. "Come with me." she commanded.
"I have a dilemma. How can I save a man among the Rohirrim?"
"What are the circumstances around his death?" Boromir asked.
"He'll fall by the hand of the Witch King, in the middle of the plains, with no spot for cover, unlike Helm's Deep. He doesn't fall by arrow. I do not know how to prevent it." Tabatha spoke quickly as her thoughts raced, trying to find a solution.
After more than an hour of fruitless brainstorming, no solutions on how to even reduce the odds were suggested. Finally, they agreed to sleep on it.
…
After one glance at Tabatha, Boromir ordered Eowyn to find and bring Legolas. He quietly approached her sleeping form, sitting beside her. He put both hands on her shoulders, trying to shake her awake. "Tabatha." he called, "Wake up."
Instinctively she knew better than to make sound. Instead, her entire body was shaking, tears running down her cheeks. Her arms rose, fighting him off.
Legolas barged into the tent, Haldir at his heels.
Boromir retreated to the side, watching as Legolas pulled her into his arms.
"Melamin, (Sindarin, My love) wake up." Legolas ran his arms up and down her back, as he buried her head in the junction of his shoulder and neck. "It will be alright." he reassured.
Tabatha woke with a silent scream, surrounded by a familiar scent.
She'd seen it again. Helm's Deep. This time Haldir was joined by Boromir, blood running in the dirt. 'I caused this.' Her mind had berated her, showing visions of bodies torn apart by the explosion.
She had been surrounded by mothers, asking why she choose to let their children die. 'There was another way.' Another way to convince Théoden to support Aragorn. Another way to have Aragorn step up and choose to act as a king.
She drew in a shuddering breath. Gradually her ragged breathing came under control.
Haldir and Boromir looked on as she returned Legolas's squeeze, mind now aware of her location.
"What was the nightmare about?" he asked.
"Helm's Deep." she responded.
He closed his eyes in pain. "I wanted to spare you." he choked out, face twisted in grief.
"It wouldn't have made a difference. I keep getting asked in my dreams why I allowed the explosion to happen. Why did I not stop the walls from being breached? I knew it was coming." she said tonelessly.
"You may as well ask me the same question. Aragorn asked me to bring down the uruk-hai with the torch. I failed." She looked into his eyes, caressing the side of his face in comfort.
"Battle is not a place you can control the outcomes." Haldir said. "That you have been successful at all is a surprise I'm grateful for."
"But I must." she insisted.
"Why?" Legolas coaxed.
"I promised to save Théoden too. He's the last I can name to fall." Her eyes met his imploringly.
Boromir looked sharply at her, startled. "The king should know of this." he said, before leaving to fetch him.
…
"My Lord, Tabatha needs to speak to you on the next battle." Boromir requested.
"What does a woman know of war?" scorned one of the men from Westfold.
Boromir's hand fell to his sword, as he retorted menacingly. "She is more than she appears. She's saved my life, and those of the elves at Helm's Deep with her foresight. Now she would take council with you, Théoden king." directing the last towards the king.
"Bring her before us than." a commander from Fenmarch challenged.
"I think not. If the king would council with her, he must go to her." He glared around the group. "Alone."
Théoden nodded his agreement, gesturing his council to remain in place for the moment.
"She's in no shape to face a group of men to be mocked for what she sees and cannot prevent." Boromir whispered to the king, leading the way.
…
Théoden strode into the tent. Legolas shot him a glare, protectively tightening his hold on Tabatha. Haldir prevented Théoden from approaching too close.
"What is it you would tell me?" Théoden asked gently, seeing her distress.
"I cannot. I cannot see how to change the details, and still win the war."
"She has seen your death." Haldir supplied. "Her sight is true."
Tabatha glared at Haldir. "He should not have been told."
Théoden was allowed to approach, sitting on her other side. "I am old, Tabatha. I have no fear of death in battle. Only for the safety of my people. Tell me what you know, that I may aid them to victory."
She took a deep breath, considering. "You die at the hand of the Witch King. That's important. Seeing you fall, two attack him. He is injured by one, slain by the other. Both fall victim to the black breath, to be healed by Aragorn in Minas Tirith."
"But the Witch King cannot be slain by mortal man." Boromir breathed.
"He won't be. Which is why you'll fall when you face him." She met his eyes bravely with compassion. "The two who attack him, neither are men of Rohan." She winked at him. "But they are of Rohan."
"And what of my people?" Théoden asked.
"Rohan will survive. You'll ask Eowyn to take up your seat in the Golden Hall before we leave here. There will be a heavy price for the coming battle, but less than you think. Lord Elrond will be here shortly, to give Aragorn a sword."
Haldir started at this news.
"Aragorn needs to go by the Dimholt road; and bring the cursed army. They'll supply the numbers we're missing." She grinned at him. "They also don't fear death; they've been dead a thousand years. Makes them really hard to kill again in battle."
"If this is what you have foreseen, it is a good sight. I will ride gladly to my death, knowing the armies of Sauron are defeated."
He looked sharply at her. "You will not interfere. Ride with Aragorn, not with the Rohirrim. Stay with the Fellowship. I have no desire to challenge fate. My death is not in your hands." He stood, departing swiftly.
Tabatha glared at Boromir. "He should not have been told."
"You brought comfort to him. He'll be able to lead his people with courage." Legolas said, comforting her.
Boromir also defended his actions. "He is happy; he'll have a warrior's death. His name will be sung in the Golden Hall for generations."
"Sight is not a good thing in the current times." Legolas said consolingly. "We're grateful for what good you've already done."
"No kidding. I'd much rather see pictures of fluffy bunnies. Where's my fluffy bunnies?" she complained, drawing up a blanket, cuddling against Legolas. He tightened his hold.
The others left the tent, leaving them to the solitude found wrapped in each other's arms.
"What dreams did you have before you came to this world?" Legolas asked quietly.
She smiled faintly. "I wanted to graduate with honors. I dreamed of working in a global company, getting people of different backgrounds to work together, and create something wonderful. How about you?"
"I have served at my father's court since I was an elfling. I want to travel this world, free of Sauron. Free of the hate and distrust he's stirred. I would see to the remaking of the alliances between peoples, an exchange of knowledge and skill."
"OMG. You want to remain friends with Gimli! Yeah! Finally!" she chortled.
He laughed at her enthusiasm. "Yes, those are my waking dreams." He said with a squeeze.
His eyes penetrated hers, as his voice took on a sultry edge "And what of nighttime dreaming?"
"Do you really want to know? You feature prominently in them." She purred at him. "And you're not wearing much either." She pulled back to gaze into his eyes, licking her lips. "Or I could just show you. If you're ready for more than just kisses?" She asked, her eyebrow raised in inquiry.
His eyes pierced hers. "I have dreamed of your words since they spilled so tantalizingly out of your mouth, arwenamin. (Sindarin, my lady) They hound my thoughts during the day." His tormented voice groaned at her. His head descended to place kisses along her face, before finally capturing her lips.
Moaning, she pressed against him. Driven by desire, he dragged her body to drape over his thighs. His hardened length was trapped between them. She rose on her knees, rubbing him between them.
Her hand plunged into his hair. Desperate for air, she pulled his head back, trailing kisses down the side of his neck. Smirking, she raised higher, running her tongue around the outline of his ear. He shuddered beneath her, hands shaking at her waist, breath panting in staccato rhythm.
She turned her attentions back to his mouth. She dueled him for dominance, finally succumbing to his strength. Daringly she ran her hands over his body, feeling his muscles twitching in response, supersensitive to her touch. He moaned quietly at her efforts.
His hands, once at a loss, now caressed her back, holding her close. "Legolas" she cried. She pulled open his tunic, planting kisses over each exposed inch. Her tongue darted out, tasting along the faint defined outline of his muscles. He surged beneath her as she playfully sucked on the hardened nub of his nipples. She bit down gently, looking up at his eyes mischievously, before lapping at the abused flesh.
He groaned again when she reached for the bindings of his leggings. His hand grabbed her wrist, holding it determinedly away. "No." He gasped. "Le melin (Sindarin, I love you.), but we cannot."
His eyes met hers with trepidation at this latest refusal. Breathing heavily, Tabatha worked to gain control, her hands stroking lightly over his body. "As you wish." she whispered to him. "Always as you wish." She kissed him chastely on the lips, resting her forehead against his, breathing still irregular.
"Please don't go away now." She pleaded. "I still want to touch you. Feel you. Hold you."
He sighed, nodding in agreement. She settled against his body, holding him tight. Gradually he softened beneath her as sleep overcame them both.
…
"There. A true esquire of Rohan." Eowyn said.
"I'm ready!" Merry said, waving the sword around. Eowyn jumped back out of range.
Merry apologized. "It isn't all that dangerous. It's not even sharp." he told her.
"Well, that's no good. You won't kill many orcs with a blunt blade. Come on. To the smithy. Go!" Eowyn said, biting back her laughter.
"You should not encourage him." Eomer chided her.
"You should not doubt him." Eowyn challenged back.
"I do not doubt his heart, only the reach of his arm." Eomer berated.
"Why should Merry be left behind? He has as much cause to go to war as you. Why can he not fight for those he loves?" Eowyn pleaded.
"You know as little of war as that hobbit. When the fear takes him…and the blood and the screams and the horror of battle take hold…do you think he would stand and fight? He would flee. And he would be right to do so. War is the province of men, Eowyn." Eomer stood menacingly over her, demanding she agree.
"Bunch of Neanderthals the lot of them are too." Tabatha whispered to herself, observing the scene.
Waiting for Eomer to vanish, she approached Eowyn. "Merry's more than just heart you know. All the hobbits have a key role in this conflict." Looking at her significantly, she continued. "He'll protect your back if you let him. Ensure he rides with you if you would win this war."
Eowyn gave her a strange look. "They say you are a seer. Is this true?" she asked hesitatingly.
"They say a lot about me, don't they?" Tabatha smirked at her. "I do know what you will do. Good luck, and take care of yourself out there." She gave a startled Eowyn a hug. "I'll see you in Minas Tirith after the battle."
…
Gimli stopped Aragorn to demand "Just where do you think you're off to?"
"Not this time. This time you must stay, Gimli." Aragorn commanded.
"Mm" Gimli said noncommittally.
"Have you learned nothing of the stubbornness of dwarves?" Legolas chided him, walking with a readied horse up to the pair.
"Or elves." Boromir said with a smirk, leading another horse to the group, trailed by Tabatha and Haldir.
"Tabatha, no. Stay with Eowyn." Aragorn pleaded.
"Really? You think I'll be safe with Eowyn?" she laughed. "Nope. Remember, the only place safe in Middle Earth for me is with the Fellowship. It wasn't my idea to get dragged along in these primitive conditions. With no toilets." She smirked at him. "You're stuck with my ass." She wiggled it, giving a slap and winking at Legolas. He rolled his eyes in amusement at her antics.
Aragorn ground his teeth. He shot a look to Legolas, but apparently he was in agreement to bring Tabatha.
"Oh, I know exactly where you're going, and what you're up to." She tapped beside her eyes. "Sight remember. I foresee" She closed her eyes dramatically, covering them with the palm of a hand. "We'll all need a bath by the time we next see water." Her grin widened at Aragorn's increasing ire.
"You might as well accept it. We're going with you, laddie." Gimli retorted.
Aragorn sighed in resigned acceptance.
…
"What's happening? Where is he going?" a man asked from the crowd.
The confusion grew. "Where's he going? I don't understand." another cried.
"Lord Aragorn!"
"Why does he leave on the eve of battle?" the thought echoed in the ranks.
"Tabatha goes with him. The woman goes with him."
"He leaves because there is no hope." Gamling said despondently.
"He leaves because he must." Théoden countered strongly.
"Too few have come. We cannot defeat the armies of Mordor." Gamling said with trepidation.
"No, we cannot." Théoden agreed. "But we will meet them in battle nonetheless." He said, smiling confidently.
"You learned something from the seer." A man of Fenmarch called.
Théoden looked over at the commander. "There is hope. Rohan will survive. We are not alone." He added with careful emphasis.
Remembering the elves arrival as despair galloped through the ranks at Helm's Deep, the mood shifted amongst the Rohirrim to reflect growing purpose and determination.
…
"What kind of army would linger in such a place?" Gimli asked warily.
"One that is cursed. Long ago, the Men of the Mountains swore an oath to the last King of Gondor to come to his aid to fight. But when the time came, when Gondor's need was dire, they fled; vanishing into the darkness of the mountain. And so Isildur cursed them, never to rest until they had fulfilled their pledge."
"Who shall call them from the grey twilight? The forgotten people. The heir of him to whom the oath they swore. From the north shall he come. Need shall drive him. He shall pass the door to the Paths of the Dead." Legolas recited the relevant passages of the tale, his voice ringing in the dark.
"The very warmth of my blood seems stolen away." Gimli shuddered.
Stopping to read the doorway, Legolas translated the words. "The way is shut. It was made by those who are dead. And the Dead keep it. The way is shut."
"Brego!" Aragorn called after his horse spooked and ran away. Seeing their horses distress matched Brego's, the others quickly secured their kit, freeing them to return. "I do not fear death." Aragorn hissed, striding into the gaping maw of the mountain.
Plunging into darkness behind him, Haldir and Legolas quickly followed. Taking a deep breath, Boromir trailed after with Tabatha on his heels.
"Well, this is a thing unheard-of. An Elf will go underground where a Dwarf dare not? Oh. Oh, I'd never hear the end of it." Gimli wailed, bracing the dark.
…
"What is it? What do you see?" Gimli hissed.
"I see shapes of men. And of horses." Legolas responded. Haldir agreed.
"Where?" Gimli called, twisting around in the dark.
"Pale banners like shreds of cloud. Spears rise like winter-thickets through a shroud of mist. The Dead are following. They have been summoned." Legolas said ominously.
"The Dead? Summoned?" Gimli gave a faint chuckle. "I knew that. Huh. Ha. Very good! Very good!" he chortled desperately, before calling "Legolas!" and running after the elf.
"Do not look down." Aragorn warned.
Promptly, the others looked down to discover bones cracking to dust beneath their feet. Tabatha squealed, waving her hands "Gross. This is so gross. Why did I come with you again? I said we would need a bath." She tried to dance between the bones. "Yuck." she cried as she couldn't avoid crushing some.
"Who enters my domain?" King of the Dead demanded.
"One who will have your allegiance." Aragorn returned.
"The Dead do not suffer the living to pass." King of the Dead said scornfully.
"You will suffer me." Aragorn replied.
"The way is shut. It was made by those who are dead. And the Dead keep it. The way is shut." King of the Dead said threateningly. "Now you must die."
"I summon you to fulfill your oath." Aragorn commanded.
"None but the King of Gondor may command me." The King of the Dead swung his blade at Aragorn. Aragorn met it with confidence. "That blade was broken." he hissed.
"It has been remade." Aragorn retorted. "Fight for us and regain your honor. What say you?" He turned to face more of the troops, displaying the blade for their view. "What say you?"
"Ah! You waste your time, Aragorn. They had no honor in life, they have none now in death." Gimli challenged.
"I am Isildur's heir. Fight for me and I will hold your oaths fulfilled." Aragorn coaxed. "What say you? You have my word! Fight, and I will release you from this living death! What say you?" he cried.
Silently, the nebulous ghosts of a bygone age vanished before their eyes.
"Stand, you traitors!" Gimli demanded, his voice ringing in the dark.
A familiar avalanche sound was heard deep in the mountain. Its echoes increasing as a cascade of skulls was released onto the Fellowship.
"Out! Legolas! Run!" Aragorn cried, swimming against the current of bones. The group plunged through the river, aiding each other to the far side.
Finally free to breathe fresh air, the group gasped for oxygen. Raising his eyes, Aragorn's horrified gaze rested on a fleet of black ships sailing down the river. Breaking, he fell to his knees in despair.
Silently behind him, the ghostly army materialized.
"We fight." King of the Dead said with finality, surrounded by the ethereal troops.
"And we need a bath." Tabatha commented, rolling her eyes. She received a look from the rest of the group. "What, I called it didn't I? I said we'd need a bath when we reached water."
"You failed to mention a few details in between." Boromir ground out, glaring at her.
She shrugged. "Details, who cares about details?" she asked.