I really appreciate your patience. I'm going in a bit of a different direction . . . . one I hope you'll like. Perhaps writer's block was good for me afterall. You will be the judge! Reviews and critiques are more than welcome!

"Welcome, my Lords… to Isengard!"

Such an unusual site greeted Enzi as she arrived at the gates to the tower of the White Wizard. She'd traveled with Aragorn, Mchawi, Legolas, Gimli, Théoden, and Eomer, to rescue the two hobbits. They hadn't seen them in months and she'd partly expected the hobbits to have been battered and beaten, or even trapped in some sort of cage or cell. Yet there the two sat, swinging their legs of the edge of the lower wall, giggling as they munched on pork and smoked from pipes. There was not a bruise on either of them, and they almost appeared as childlike and innocent of their surroundings as they had the day she first met them.

"You young rascals!" Gimli howled. "A merry chase you've led us on, and now we find you feasting and… and smoking!"

Pippin stood uneasily on the wall, obviously impaired. "We are sitting on the field of victory, enjoying a few well-earned comforts. The salted pork is particularly good." He gestured to Enzi as if offering her a piece, which she quickly declined.

"I think not, Pippin," she said with a smile while gesturing to the horse she was mounted on. "I have had enough trouble handling this beast as we journeyed to rescue you. There will be time to celebrate later."

She had been dead-set against mounting a horse as they journeyed to what Mchawi called Orthanc. She didn't trust the beasts; they were not as sturdy as Mumakil, but Aragorn and had insisted that she would be unable to make the journey on foot alone, especially considering that all the men would travel by horse as well. He had insisted that he would be unable to permit her to travel in such a manner. Éowyn had joined him in the mission to force Enzi on a horse and had entrusted her brother, Eomer, to find the perfect horse for her. The brute didn't even ask her anything. He had just walked up to her as she was in mid-statement and hoisted her up in the air, placing her roughly on a large, light brown horse with a black mane and tail. He still wasn't exactly high on her list of those she cared about and she normally wouldn't have hesitated to take the opportunity to bash him in the head with her glove, but the act was so quick and shocking she didn't have the opportunity.

He had looked up at her a few seconds after he sat her on the horse, a wave of embarrassment washing over his eyes. "This is Lyorest. She will give you an easy journey." He had then lumbered away without a word, to prepare his own horse. When Enzi had managed to shift her glare from the barbarian back to Aragorn, she found his concerned gaze replaced by an amused one.

"You find something funny, ranger?" she had demanded, to which he shook his head and waved his hand in denial. "Do all men in their culture throw women on creatures without their permission?"

Aragorn had smiled a bit deeper. "Do not be angry with him, Enzi. He was probably prompted by Éowyn." Enzi pursed her lips then tentatively patted the mane of the large creature as if expecting it to turn and bite her. "Her name is Lyorest. I doubt she will give you a difficult ride. It's Rohirric for 'gentle'."

That was a week ago, and Aragorn had been proven right. Lyorest had proven herself to be both a hearty and gentle creature, giving her no trouble on the journey (though Merry didn't need to know that). She doubted, however, even such a gentle creature as this would be able to carry an inebriated rider. They would have a harder time carrying the 2 giggling hobbits and the wizard.

The hobbits were finally coerced to leave their 'spoils' and traveled with them to the tower. She'd never seen the Mwenye Nguvu Mchawi (Mighty Wizard) but had heard that he had been a great force for good before turning to Sauron. Now they sat on their horses at the bottom of the tower waiting for the man to reveal himself. When he finally did, she was shocked to see how much he looked like Mchawi. His hair was completely white except the darkness found in his facial hair. But where she'd found a kindness in Mchawi's eyes, she only found malevolence in his.

His eyes scanned the group quickly before settling on Théoden. "You have fought many wars and slain many men Théoden king, and made peace afterwards. Can we not take council together, as we once did, my old friend? Can we not have peace, you and I?"

Théoden paused for a moment before speaking. "We shall have peace… when you answer for the burning of the westfold, and the children that lie dead there." He seemed to become more and more angry as he spoke, as if realizing the damage that Mwenye did to his people by controlling him for so long. "We shall have peace, when the lives of the soldiers, whose bodies were hewn even as they lay dead against the gates of the Hornburg, are avenged! When you hang from a gibbet for the sport of your own crows… we shall have peace."

A smirk graced Mwenye's face. "Gibbets and crows?" he scoffed. "Dotard!" He then turned his attention to Mchawi, as if he knew the wizard would never allow him to be killed. "What do you want Gandalf Greyhame? Let me guess: the key of Orthanc, or perhaps the key of Barad-dûr itself, along with the crowns of the seven kings and the rods of the five wizards!"

Shockingly, he then looked at Enzi, studying her features in the morning sunlight. She had covered herself with a Rohirric cloak along with her mask but felt as if he could see right through them. The smirk he'd bore with Mchawi became a chuckle as he continued to gaze at her. "And what is this? A Haradress? And not just any Haradress. An Engoli princess. Your pet."

He knew! He knew who she was! How could he have known? She had been so careful! And if he knew, did Sauron? Enzi felt her eyes sting with angry tears at the realization that now even more knew of her secret. She could feel the eyes of all of the others but Mchawi and Aragorn but wouldn't give them as much as a sideways glance. Mwenye looked back at Mchawi. "How long do you believe you can hide her identity? If you could not hide her from me, what hope do you have in continuing to hide her from the Dark Lord." Enzi felt herself release a breath this hadn't known that she held. Apparently, in the wizard's quest for power, he had refused to report her to Sauron. She still wasn't sure how he knew her identity, but at least her family remained safe. "You hope to form an alliance with the south, but what you will get is betrayal. He looked again at her and shook his head. "Wewe alichukua hatari kubwa ya kumwamini viumbe hawa dhaifu kabisa kulinda wewe, na wakati vita hii ni kumaliza tu nyinyi na wale wa upendo itoe matokeo," (You took a large risk in trusting these frail creatures to protect you and when this war is finished only you and those you love will bear the consequences.) he said, attempting to speak to her secretly while apparently being ignorant that Mchawi also knew her language. "Lazima msaada kwangu. Tu ninaweza kukuchukua nyuma kwa watu wako, na kuweka wewe nyuma katika neema nzuri na bwana wako (You must help me. Only I can take you back to your people, and put you back in the good graces of your lord).

Enzi didn't hesistate. "I do not need the aide of a broken wizard bartering for his own survival," she said in the Common tongue. "When I do, be assured that you will be the first I notify."

Mchawi's horse brought him ever closer to her and the tower. "Your treachery has already cost many lives. Thousands more are now at risk, but you could save them Saruman. You were deep in the enemy's council." It was crucial that they knew Sauron's plans, and this man was the most reliable resource. They had to know what he knew.

Mwenye grinned at this. "So you have come here for information. I have some for you." He pulled out a clear glass orb from his robes and looked at it deeply. "Something festers in the heart of Middle-Earth. Something that you have failed to see. But the Great Eye has seen it. Even now he presses his advantage. He has called all Southron tribes to his aide." He looked at Enzi, then Mchawi. " Her people will fight with their dying breaths to gain him victory. His forces are stronger than ever and he has no disadvantage. His attack will come soon and you're all going to die. But you know this don't you, Gandalf."

He took a moment to look at Aragorn as well. "You cannot think that this Ranger will ever sit upon the throne of Gondor. This exile, crept from the shadows, will never be crowned king. A cowardly heir and a dishonored tribute. Ha! Gandlaf does not hesistate to sacrifice those closest to him, those he professes to love. Tell me… what words of confort did you give the halfling before you sent him to his doom?" Gandalf said nothing, thinking of Frodo and Sam's safety for a moment as he continued. "The path that you have set him on can only lead to death."

Mchawi may have been slow to react but apparently Gimli and Legolas weren't. After a gruff, indiscernible exchange between the two, Legolas reached for an arrow to aim at the wizard, only to be stopped by Mchawi.

"No," Mchawi ordered. The elf obeyed, albeit begrudgingly and attention was turned back to Mwenye. He wanted this – he wanted to be killed before divulging anything. "Come down Saruman," Mchawi offered again, "and your live will be spared."

"Save your pity and your mercy." the wizard cried. "I have no use for it!" With that, he threw a flame at Mchawi. Lyorest whinnied and immediately drew back from the flames as Enzi struggled to stay on her back. When the flames dissipated, however, Mchawi was unhurt and now full of resolve.

He shattered the other wizard's staff, taking his power from him, as Théoden appealed to the small man walking up behind him – Gríma Wormtongue

"Gríma, you need not follow him," he declared. "You were not always as you are now. You were once a man of Rohan! Come down."

"A man of Rohan?" Mwenye sneered. "What is the house of Rohan but a thatched barn where brigands drink in the reek and rats roll on the floor with the dogs? Even the Harad savages would not abase themselves low enough to call you brothers! Victory at helms deep does not belong to you, Théoden, horsemaster! You are a lesser son of greater sires."

The king would not take the bait. "Gríma, come down. Be free of him."

For a moment, the little man seemed uncertain, as if pondering whether or not he could truly return home. Enzi knew the feeling. "Free?" Mwenye declared. He will never be free." Gríma tried to resist and was slapped down for his trouble. The man lay broken at the higher level of the tower as Mchawi tried again.

"Saruman, you were deep in the enemy's council," Mchawi said more forcefully. "Tell us what you know."

"You withdraw your guard, and I will tell you where you doom will be decided."

Mchawi looked at the group and motioned for each of them to back away. Enzi led Lyorest up to his horse in respectable defiance. "I do not trust him, Mchawi. He will never give us the information you seek."

"He is powerless, child," Mchawi reasoned. "His best option is to give me the information we need."

As he spoke, a grunt drew their attention back to the tower. Gríma had taken a dagger and began to stab the White Wizard in the back, apparently fighting back the man who'd enslaved him for so many years. Legolas shot him down so stop him, but it was, unfortunately, a fatal one. The wizard fell down from his tower, his body impaled by a spike on one of the wheels he'd created to forge weapons. The group was speechless. Their only source of information was gone, as was his slave. There would be no way to discover Sauron's plans now.

Pippin jumped down from Aragorn'shorse and picked up the glass sphere from the murky water. Apparently, it has also fallen with the wizard.

But almost as quickly as he had it in his hands, Mchawi demanded he give it up. "Peregrin Took, I'll take that, my lad," he commanded, grasping the orb and covering it with a cloak. Quickly now!"

"Where do we go now, Mchawi?" Enzi asked, Lyorest trotting next to his horse.

"I do not know, my dear," he said honestly. "For now, we return to Edoras. The Rohan should know that this particular threat is over."

The journey to Orthanc had been relatively quiet, conversations left to speculations of what they would find at the great wizard's tower. The journey back would have been just as quiet if not for their cargo. Merry and Pippin talked constantly. They told of their own adventures with the Uruks and later the tree shepherd, Treebeard, while asking them of all their adventures in the months they'd been apart. The group (mainly Legolas and Gimli) tried their best to fill them in on the details, but their curiosity was never satiated. The more information they were given, the more they wanted. By the third day, they finally willed themselves to take a break with the constant questions, allowing the party the first opportunity to set up camp for a mid-day break without a constant barrage of questions.

Aragorn divvied out provisions as Eomer and Legolas took the horses to a nearby brook for a drink. The hobbits sat down eating as Gimli smoked. Enzi sat down on a hill, taking a moment to eat a bit of the meat and bread Aragorn had given her. No one had mentioned what Mwenye said, but she'd heard them talk in whispers to one another. They had not developed the strength to ask her, but eventually they will. For the first time, she was grateful that Aragorn already knew. He and Mchawi were acting as buffers, keeping the questions to a minimum and giving her the precious few days of the journey to think.

A light in the distance drew her eye from her meal. It was a small light, the unnatural glint of the sun's rays bouncing off something in the distance. She placed her plate on the ground and casually took a stride in the direction of the light. It flickered in regular intervals then shone again, as if mutely trying to communicate to her. Then it was gone. She waited quietly to see what would happen. Then it appeared, as it had before, first flickering, and then shining unblocked in the sunlight. It felt familiar somehow. It reminded her of her days of preparation, when she, Abaan and Dingane had to prepare to be offered to Sauron's armies. One of their teachers noted the necessity of conveying positions on the battlefield. Knowing where an ally was could be the difference between life and death. Later, the three toyed with the idea, using a small mirror to signal each other. A message. It was a message. Enzi scanned her mind for what it could mean. This was something that only she, Abaan, and Dingane would have known. Safe and watching. He was safe, and still watching over her.

She scanned the mounds of grass for a certain root, trying to draw as less attention as possible. She couldn't find the root but found an oily plant that would do as a substitute. She walked over to Aragorn just as he was preparing to extinguish the fire and threw the plant in the fire, stepping back as the plant caused the fire to burn a bright red and the sky to be filled with bluish white smoke. She searched for the repeating message. Almost instantly, it stopped. He understood that she, too, was safe.

Aragorn regarded her for a moment, still holding a container of dirt. "Dingane?"

Enzi nodded, grabbing the container and dosing the flames with the dirt. "His masquerade continues. But at least he is well."

"Who have you contacted, Haradress?" Théoden asked, a bit leery of what had happened, despite Aragorn's calmness.

"A friend, my lord," Mchawi spoke quietly. "An ally, just as she is."

Enzi nodded agreement with the men and this seem to at least calm the older man. She set herself to helping pack up camp, feeling Aragorn lean next to her ear. "You must be careful where and when you choose communicate with him. As this war continues, it may not be safe to stay in contact with him."

"You are forgetting something, Aragorn," Enzi regarded, still starring in the direction of the now absent light. "My mission was to take the One Ring to its destruction, not to fight a war. I can no longer do this. Maybe it's not time for me to end my communication with Din. Maybe it's time for me to leave."

For the Engoli, battle never ended in immediate celebration. Whether you won or lost the battle, sons and daughters were lost. Usually the tribe would spend 4 days in the Kutembea Nyumbani, the walk home. The tribe would spend this time, both in joint mourning for those lost, and in preparing their souls to take the journey home, to their ancestors. Only after this could the tribe enjoy the "spoils" of war and celebrate. Yet here she was, in Théoden's Golden hall, being handed a goblet of cider by Éowyn as they stood and faced the king.

"Tonight we remember those who gave their blood to defend this country", Théoden declared, his blue eyes twinkling a bit as he paused. "Hail the victorious dead!"

"Hail!" the crowd of men and women cried around her, each downing their mugs and goblets. She looked at Aragorn for direction. He nodded and began drinking out of his mug, a bit begrudgingly. Apparently he didn't agree with this celebration either.

After the short moment of reflection, the celebration began. Women brought in food and drink and men stood around gorging themselves in celebration. Éowyn had insisted that Enzi "dress" for the occasion, presenting her with a beautiful, albeit bulky and bright gown. Enzi had flatly refused, reminding her of the ridicule she'd received with the last gown she wore.

"NO, Éowyn," she'd declared with a slight smile. " I will not be made a fool of. I've done it once. Not again."

"But everyone will be dressed for the occasion," Éowyn had reasoned, placing the dress in the hands of a servant girl. "No armor. You cannot walk around in just a shirt and pants." When she saw she was losing ground, she added, "It would be disrespectful to present yourself in such a manner at an official event."

Enzi hesitated for a moment. She pointed to the servant. "Not that one!"

Éowyn immediately agreed. "Absolutely! We'll find one that you love!"

Just a few hours, Enzi reminded herself as she smoothed the fabric of the gown she wore. It was done in more muted colors, which made her feel as if she blended in as much as she possibly could, and was long and sleek, rather than big and bulky. It was as warm as the dress she'd worn before, with sleeves that covered her tattoos and extended to her hands, making her feel comfortable and covered. The square neckline was still a bit lower than she would have preferred, but this was to honor Éowyn's people. She could play her part for at least one night.

"You look beautiful," she whispered in Enzi's ear as she locked arms with her, guiding her through the crowd. "Thank you for doing this."

"Let's just get this over with," Enzi said, gritting between her teeth as she mock smiled. "What do we do now?"

"We socialize," Éowyn beamed, looking at Enzi as a man began dancing with an older woman and bumped into her. Something about Enzi's expression gave her pause. "We don't have to do that. We can just walk around the room and talk." Another pause. "Didn't you do this back home?"

Enzi looked around the room for a bit. "Yes, but not quite like this. Besides, I was family there. I'm a stranger here."

Éowyn smiled. "Then let's start off small." She pulled Enzi over to a table where Legolas and Gimli were crowded around a barrel and several loud men. As they neared the group, the dwarf turned and bowed respectfully to both women. There was a hint of a smile on his face, but it didn't seem mocking, so Enzi returned it. She looked around the group. Legolas returned her smile with one of his own and bowed respectfully, which only encouraged the two men to do the same. The only person who did not bow was the third man. He had his back turned to them but she instantly knew who he was. When he noticed no one was speaking, he turned to see what the distraction was. His eyes met his sister's, then hers but said nothing. He then abruptly shook his head and turned his attention back to the men. "No pauses, no spills," he said, handing a mug of ale to Gimli and Legolas.

Gimli smiled, eyes gleaming as he took the mug. "And no regurgitation," he said smiling.

"So it's a drinking game?" Legolas questioned holding the mug skeptically.

Gimli nodded. "Aye, Last one standing wins." The two began to drink as the men surrounding them cheered them on as they downed their own mugs. Enzi turned to ask Éowyn a question, but before she could, the blonde woman grabbed a goblet of ale and walked away to find Aragorn. So much for starting off small. The one person she could talk to was off flirting.

"Do you not drink, my lady?" Eomer asked.

Enzi tore her eyes from Éowyn and Aragorn and glanced at the barbarian. She argued with herself how best to answer the question and decided not to go into details on her people's customs after war. "No," she finally said, smoothing the dress again.

A loud belch from Gimli drew her attention back to the 'game'. But Eomer was persistent. "Never?"

"No." Enzi tried to think of the right words. Another belch. Gimli was on his forth mug but Legolas seemed well into his seventeenth and didn't seem affected in any way. " I was not permitted to."

"Your women are not allowed to drink ale?" Eomer eyes still had the glint of seriousness in them, but the twitch of his lips let Enzi know he was attempting to joke with her. She folded her arms and turned her attention to him as he continued. "I suppose that is best that the weaker gender be protected from such things." A smirk this time.

Enzi tried to think how best to answer his challenge without turning the conversation to Sauron and without offending anyone. "All of those trained for war in my country abstain from such . . . (a third belch) . . . pleasures. I suppose I never developed a taste for it." Gimli stood and rudely let out another burst of . . . gas. "Well, if you will excuse me, gentlemen, I will leave you to your . . . fun."

"No news of Frodo?"

"No word. Nothing."

"We have time. Every day Frodo moves closer to Mordor."

"Do we know that?"

"What does your heart tell you?"

"That Frodo is alive. Yes. Yes, he is alive."

"A word, Mchawi?"

Gandalf looked behind him to an approaching Enzi. He nodded agreement to this and smiled at Aragorn, respectfully. Aragorn took the hint and smiled back at the two, excusing himself for a moment to allow the two to talk. "What do you need, Enzi?" He placed his hand fatherly on her back as he led her to a quiet corner of the room.

Enzi fidgeted with the dress again. "I do not know how to say this, but . . . I need to go home." Mchawi frowned, his eyes twinkling in confusion. She'd gotten his attention. "I'm no good to you here, Mchawi. I've accomplished all I can to help in the destruction of the Ring. I need to go home."

"What did your brother say?" Mchawi queried.

"That he was safe. That's all," Enzi assured. "But that's the point. He will only stay safe as long as I can keep hidden, and the more people that know my secret decrease his safety and Asana's. She's alone with no one to protect her. If I go back home I can keep her safe until Frodo destroys the Ring."

"Aren't you dead to your people?"

Enzi regarded him for a moment. "Yes, but I can tell them I only hid to protect them, to get information about the enemy. They will accept me if I am convincing enough."

"And when they ask for these 'secrets', what will you tell them?" Enzi paused thinking of what he said. He was right; if she came home with such a story she would need to prove it by giving confidential information about the Rohirrim, Gondorians, and even Hobbits.

"But is it fair to stay here – to help these strangers while my people suffer? That was not part of the agreement."

"The Rohans have a purpose in protecting the safety of your people just as the destruction of the Ring does. You must stay, child. I know you want to leave, but leaving will not end this. Your destiny, for now, is here."

Mchawi patted her shoulder, leaving her alone with her thoughts as he glided over to Théoden. She wanted to continue the conversation, but could say nothing as long as he sat with Théoden. She decided to go outside to think.

She found a quiet spot overlooking the village within the wall. She sat there, for how long she didn't know, considering all of her options. If Mchawi was right, she wouldn't be accepted at home, leading to their destruction by the dark lord anyway. If she didn't go home, she condemned herself to helping every northern race, even as her own people died. She loved her friends, but she couldn't settle for such a fate. She looked down at the city. She didn't know how long she had been outside but everything had gone quiet now. Most people had turned in for the night, and only a few remained awake. Perhaps she should prepare for bed too.

A sudden cry for help drew her attention away from the homes and into the golden hall. She quickly got up and ran in the direction of the voice. She was unprepared for what she saw. Merry was screaming for help and Pippin lay on the floor among men that were awakening. Mchawi was standing to his feet and Aragorn was grasping the orb they'd taken from Mwenye's tower. Aragorn was falling over, seemingly unconscious, and Legolas was trying to prevent him injury from the fall. Enzi rushed in to help, reaching for Aragorn's right side when the orb rolled into her hands. Instantly the world went black.

Enzi was in a world of blackness. She could hear nothing and could see nothing. "Aragorn?" she called. "Legolas? Mchawi?"

She could hear a low growl and turned toward its direction behind her. She felt her body propelled towards a large tower, black, almost alive. A large eye, lidless, made entirely of fire. She knew where she was . . .

"I see you . . . . "

Reviews are welcome!