Karm: I can't really use a pogo stick. I've never been on one and would, in all probability, fall off within 30 seconds. I may be awesome, but I'm not that awesome. I can't really use any other cool form of transportation either. Yes, the hunt for the Uruks was longer than two days, but how interesting is it to read about people running?
Legolas: People? Excuse me, that's not very politically correct. You should say 'persons', perhaps, or possibly 'beings'.
Karm: Shush. Haven't you seen LadyDorothy's author's notes recently? The fact that my characters talk back to me creates a bad influence on other characters. They start talking back too!
Aragorn: We're not really your characters. We belong to someone whose name I won't mention, but his last initial is Tolkien. Remember?
Karm: Fine, remind me I'm not a literary genius. I can't even come up with my own characters. Why do I think I can write? *sobs into handkerchief* Anyway, thanks to Animadeus, She-Who-Has-A-Very-Long-Name, LadyDorothy, XxHiddenxX. and XxRAndomNemesisxX for reviewing.
DOES THIS LOOK LIKE MIDDLE-EARTH TO YOU?
By Karm Starkiller and Turquoise
Chapter 11: The Riders of Rohan/They're Taking the Hobbits to Isengard!
Aragorn halted at the head of a small valley, unsure. The Orc-trail descended into it, but then vanished.
"Are we there yet?" Karm asked for the zillionth time.
"No," Legolas said. "Which way would they turn, do you think, Aragorn? Northward, the straightest path to Isengard, or to Fangorn as you guessed?"
"Much is amiss in Rohan," Aragorn answered. "They will take the quickest path. Let us search northward!"
"Can't we take a break? My legs are killing me," whined Karm. "I wrote that I could keep up with you three, but that doesn't mean it's easy."
"Keep up, Karm!" Legolas called over his shoulder.
"Breath. Keep breathing," she sighed. "That's the key. That and my pogo stick."
The Hunters ran (and bounced) on. Aragorn stopped suddenly. Karm came close to bouncing on top of him and fell off trying to stop.
"Why do you keep stopping? We'll never find the Orcs at this rate."
"We have found some of them," Gimli said. Several bodies lay on the ground.
"Looks like someone was trying to make minced Orc," Karm commented. "Ick."
"There was some quarrel about the road or the prisoners, I think," Aragorn said. "Let us go on!"
Fast-forward to the Eastemnet. If you don't know where that is, look at a map. It's the eastern border of Rohan, home of the horse-lords. Legolas ran to the cliff-like edge of a ravine and stared into the distance. Aragorn called to him.
"Legolas, what do your Elf-eyes see?"
"The Uruks turn north, as you guessed. They're taking the Hobbits to Isengard!"
There was only one thing Karm could do. She started chanting, "They're taking the Hobbits to Isengard! They're taking the Hobbits to Isengard! They're taking the Hobbits to Isengard-gard-ga-ga-ga-gard!"
The three others stared. "What did you say?" asked Gimli.
"The Hobbits, the Hobbits, the Hobbits, the Hobbits, to Isengard! To Isengard! The Hobbits, the Hobbits, the Hobbits…"
Aragorn sighed. He knew Karm well enough by now to realize she'd be doing this for a while.
"Tell me, where is Gandalf? For I much desire to speak with him. Tell me, where is Gandalf? For I much desire to speak with him."
"A Balrog of Morgoth." Karm seemed to be having a conversation with herself . "What did you say? A Balrog of Morgoth. What did you say? They're taking the Hobbits to Isengard! Stupid fat Hobbits!"
This shocked Legolas. Not only had she mentioned the Balrog and the first Dark Lord in the same breath, she was insulting the Hobbits, who had plainly been her favorites during the whole journey.
"Leave now! And never come back!"
"I beg your pardon!" spluttered Gimli.
"You have it," Karm said cheerfully. "It's part of the song, that's all. I didn't mean you."
"You call that a song?" Legolas' eyes were still slightly glazed.
"Eh, not really. Dare you not to get it stuck in your head anyway. But first, let's get off this cliff and onto the Plains of Rohan." Karm's pogo stick vanished in a puff of purple smoke, only to be replaced by a hang-glider. "Race you down. They're taking the Hobbits to Isengard!" She started chanting again as she took a running leap off the cliff and glided down. "Hey, I found something!"
Aragorn, Legolas, and Gimli scrambled down as best they could. Karm held something over her head in triumph. "Not idly do the leaves of Lórien fall. Sorry for stealing your bit - I love that line. Tell me, where is Gandalf? For I much desire to speak with him." She handed a small Elven-brooch to Aragorn.
"One of them at least was still alive," he said, taking it. "Come! Let us go on! The thought of those merry young folk driven like cattle burns my heart."
The sun climbed to the noon and then rode slowly down the sky. Shadows rose behind and reached out long arms from the East. Still the hunters held on. Dark gathered and soon they were compelled to halt.
"I begrudge even this forced rest," Legolas said. "The Uruks travel hard by day. They will run all the harder by night."
"Were one of the captives to leave the main group, I would fail to see the signs in the dark and therefore pass them by. I can not risk that," Aragorn said firmly. "If rest we must, then let us do it during the blind night."
"Besides," said Karm, "my solar-powered jetpack won't work in the dark."
Just before dawn, Legolas reported that he could no longer see the Uruk-hai. "It is as I feared. Only an eagle could overtake them now."
"Nonetheless we will still follow as we may," said Aragorn. Stooping, he woke Gimli, then gently shook Karm. "Come, you must rise. We're burning daylight, as you put it."
"No daylight to burn," mumbled Karm. "Don't have to work today – go back to sleep." She rolled over and Aragorn couldn't get another response.
Legolas walked over. "Allow me to try." Aragorn nodded and stepped back. The Elf leaned over and said, very softly, "Turquoise has Pippin."
The response surprised even Legolas. Karm sprang up, grabbed her lightsaber, and shouted something along the lines of "Noyoudon'tYoucan'thavePippinHe'!"
"Legolas, my friend," said Aragorn, "that was impressive."
"Thank you," said Legolas. "I've found that they react more strongly when at least half-asleep." He didn't have to say who "they" were.
"Did I just say what I think I said?" asked Karm. "If I did just say what I think I just said, never mind, because I didn't really mean to say what I think I just said. Anyway, Elf, if you do that again, I'm cutting your perfect pointy ears off."
To cut things short, they ran on until about two in the afternoon, at which time Legolas reported he could see riders approaching.
"The Riders and their awesome horses!" crowed Karm. "Yes! I've been looking forward to this."
"What do you know of these horsemen, Aragorn?" Gimli asked.
"I have been among them," Aragorn answered. "They are proud and willful, but true-hearted, generous, and bold. Wise but unlearned, writing no books but singing many songs, in the manner of Men before the Dark Years. I give no heed to the rumor that they pay a tribute of horses to Mordor."
"They have the awesomest horses in Middle-earth," said Karm. "And did I mention they have awesome horses?"
"They also have long spears," Legolas said, "and bright helms with fair hair flowing beneath. Shields are slung on their backs, and bright chain mail they wear."
"And they ride aweso—"
Aragorn clamped a hand over Karm's mouth. "They may ride us down with their awesome horses and skewer us with their long, very sharp sticks," he hissed. Yes, he had picked up modern English from Karm and used it quite effectively at times.
"Thank you, narrator."
Oh great, Aragorn reads filler text too?
"Yes. How else am I supposed to know everything and save the day?"
Well, it's interrupting what little plot there is, so be quiet. By the time Aragorn got Karm to shut up, the Riders were quite close. The Four Hunters sat very still in the long grass, camouflaged by their Elven-grey cloaks. Now even Gimli could hear hoofbeats.
The Rohirrim rode past in columns of two, either ignoring or not seeing the foursome. When the last rider was clear, Aragorn stood up.
"What news from the North, Riders of Rohan?" he shouted.
"What happened to the long, very sharp sticks?" squeaked Karm. "Wow, look at the gorgeous horses! I think I've died and gone to horse heaven."
Without audible signal the Riders wheeled and, in a matter of seconds, surrounded the four. A thicket of those long, sharp sticks pointed to the inside of the circle – right at our heroes.
"Meep!" Karm stared at one spear that happened to be very close to her face. "Bad idea to shout, very bad idea! Ooh, pretty horse. Eepers, very sharp stick!"
One rider came forward, a tall man, taller than all the rest; from his helm as a crest a white horsetail flowed. He advanced until the tip of his spear was within a foot of Aragorn's chest. Aragorn did not stir. "What business do a maiden, a Man, an Elf, a Dwarf have in the Riddermark?"
"Watch it, Mr. Big-shot Horse-rider," growled Karm. "What would your sister do if you called her that? I only allow 'maiden' in a compound word such as 'shieldmaiden'."
"I am called Strider," Aragorn said quickly. "I come out of the North. I am hunting Orcs."
"You know little of Orcs, if you go hunting them in this fashion," Mr. Horse-rider said. "You would have changed from hunters to prey had you overtaken them. But there is something strange about you, Strider. That is no name for a Man that you give. And strange too is your raiment. Have you sprung out of the grass? Are you elvish folk?"
Karm eyed the Riders warily. "If they're fangirls in disguise," she muttered, "I'm toast for being female and with the Elf when they aren't. With the Elf, I mean."
"Only one of us is an Elf, Legolas of the distant woodland realm of Mirkwood. But we have passed through Lothlórien, and the gifts and favor of the Lady go with us."
Mr. Horse-rider's eyes widened. "Then there is a Lady in the Golden Wood, as old tales tell! But if you have her favor, then you are sorcerers and net-weavers as well, maybe. Perhaps the maiden is her pupil."
"Say 'maiden' again and you'll be sorry! Whoa, give me a little space here, guys. It's hard to see with all these poles in my face."
The head Rider turned to Legolas and Gimli. "Why do you not speak, silent ones?"
Gimli didn't look too happy. "Give me your name, horse-master, and I will give you mine," he growled. Karm recognized that tone of voice. It didn't bode well for whoever was being spoken to.
"It is usual for the stranger to give his name first. Yet I am Éomer, son of Éomund, Third Marshall of the Riddermark."
"Good, it's not the Fangirls United, 'give us the Elf and nobody gets hurt' club." Karm sighed in relief.
"Then, Éomer son of Éomund, Third Marshall of the Riddermark, you speak evil of that which is fair beyond reach of your thought, and only little wit can excuse you."
"I would cut off your head, Dwarf, if it stood a little higher from the ground."
"Ooh, snappy comeback. Just like a guy, trying to win an argument with a sword." Karm shook her head.
"You would die before your stroke fell!" Legolas whipped out his bow.
Lovely situation, isn't it? Thank the Valar Aragorn knew what to do. It's part of Ranger training.
"I am Aragorn, son of Arathorn, Heir of Isildur Elendil's son of Gondor, Dúnedan, and am called Elessar, the Elfstone. Will you aid me or hinder me? Choose quickly! We hunt a band of Uruk-hai which captured two of our companions – Hobbits, Halflings as you call them."
"Halflings?" laughed Éomer. "Do we walk in legends or on the green earth in the daylight?"
"A man may do both, for is not the green earth itself a matter of legend?" Aragorn challenged.
"We overtook the Uruks in the night and killed them all. We saw no Halflings."
"They would be small – only children to your eyes."
"Did you see them?" Karm pleaded.
Éomer shook his head. "We left none alive. The carcasses we piled and burned. You can see the smoke. Hasufel! Arod!" Two riderless horses came when called.
"What about me?" asked Karm, willing to speak again since the spears were safely away. "I am not riding double behind Aragorn Smellessar, Isildur's Heir of Gondor."
"We have no mount suitable for you," Éomer said.
"I may not be good as you, but I can stay on a horse's back most of the time. Come on, don't you have anything I can ride?"
"Ælfwyn!" Éomer called. A smallish grey horse came over. "This is the gentlest steed we have here. I hope he will not be too restive."
Karm murmured in Ælfwyn's ear, then looked at Aragorn. "Um, I kinda need a leg up. I can't mount from the ground."
Once the four were on their horses, Éomer prepared to move on. "Look for your friends, but do not trust to hope. It has forsaken these lands. We ride North!"
The Rohirrim cantered away, leaving our four heroes in the middle of a big grassy plain.
"Thank goodness that's over," said Karm. "Becoming Authoress on a Skewer would have been kind of a boring way to die."
Karm: Wow, long chapter! Review before you go, or I'll sic Éomer on you. I need an evil fanfiction writer working for Saruman, so if you want to be in my story PM me and tell me what name you want to use, your favourite weapon, and what you'd want as payment for services rendered if Saruman won. I get final say about who gets the part, though. Also, I am now available as a beta reader. See my beta reader profile on my FF profile for details.