Disclaimer: I only can wish that I owned the Lord of the Rings, the Princess Bride and Can You Hear, but I do not, and it is sad. I do however own the Four, and that makes me happy.
A/N: If you read this A/N write 'chubby bunnies' in your review. So far I have gathered that few people read these.. pity, slap happy authors can be great fun to read! Oh well, your loss. I have started the other fic. Gasp So if you want this one updated more, REVIEW more! I'll love you forever if you review on BOTH stories... but not everyone likes both of these things so... oh well, your loss. Enjoy the chapter!
Veiling Mists
"These trees..." Jack frowned, looking up above them into the rich, dark foliage that spread overhead.
"What about them?" Maylin asked from beside him, in front of Legolas. "You're not afraid of them like Gimli are you? What a waste."
"No, no it's not that," Jack hastily reassured her. "It's just that... In all my time in Lorien I thought I'd learned at least something of trees..." Boromir chuckled. "... but these... are so strange. Beautiful but strange."
"Please continue, master Jack," Legolas encouraged.
"Well... in Lothlorien the Elves didn't harm the trees, but if they did I don't think the trees would have attacked them or anything... here they would," Jack laughed a bit uneasily. "There's this weird aura of power around them, if you understand me. It's more like their individuals than just plants that you can hack down and then grow a replica."
"Did you learn nothing from all the stuff Leigh and I drilled into your head?" Maylin demanded. "These trees are-"
"I know all that," said Jack, waving his hand off as if to ward away her lecture. "I guess I just wasn't expecting for it to feel like this."
"Feel like what?" Gandalf asked, dropping back so he was beside the chatting comrades.
"Like there are people all around me," Jack frowned. "Like the feeling you get when you walk into a room. It feels like there are eyes looking at me behind my back and I don't think I like it."
"It feel wonderful to me," Maylin sighed. "The trees really breathe here, and they can talk. They're living beings, not just the mindless plant life that's come to be everywhere else."
"I am very glad to hear your voice again, lady Maylin," Gandalf smiled gently.
"Indeed," Legolas agreed.
The elegant Elven prince looked down passively into Maylin's relaxed features. She was doing much better since he had found her, Leigh had said she was recovering from shock. There were dim circles under Maylin's eyes, and her skin seemed a bit duller than it usually was. Leigh had been unable to explain these, but Legolas had assured her that Maylin would recover and that she was not ill, as Leigh had blatantly worried. No, the only sickness Maylin had faced was a sickness of the heart, something that was healing even then. She would recover fully with time, perhaps she would become even better.
"Jack," Aragorn called back to him, "when do you think you shall display for us your new talent? You have piqued all of our curiosities now you know, including the Rohirrim's. I fear that their king will not let you leave this land without some demonstration of your abilities."
"I should never have said anything!" Jack shouted back.
Aragorn gave a devilish grin and yelled, "We are still waiting for your answer, young bard!"
"When I'm good and ready, how's that?" Jack quipped.
"That is fine," Aragorn said over his shoulder, "just so long as you do so before we leave the company of the king and his men!"
"Thrice blasted Rangers," Jack muttered under his breath.
"His tongue often wags faster than that of a bored high school girl," Maylin snickered.
"Jack's stealing my phrases," Leigh moaned.
"Sleeping Beauty's awake," Maylin taunted.
"Elfie, dearest," Leigh purred, "I think a hair's out of place, better call 911."
"That is so overused," Maylin rolled her eyes.
"Bothered you though," Leigh smirked.
"Aw, hush."
"So," Leigh drawled, "Anything interesting happen while I was out?"
"Trees, trees..." Jack paused. "Few more trees."
"Fascinating," Leigh looked around herself. "Anyone else feel like they just woke up in the Fire Swamp?" Jack snorted a laugh through his hand.
"Leigh!" Maylin cried in utter frustration.
"Just had to say it," she grinned.
"Not boggy enough though," Jack said decidedly.
"True," Leigh nodded. "And I have yet to see any ROUSes, quicksand or random puffs of fire."
"You two are intolerable," Maylin fumed.
"We'll be good, mommy," Leigh said meekly. Maylin glared at her in helpless fury as several of those riding with them, including Jack, laughed at Leigh's blatant teasing.
"You're a mean little thing," Boromir chuckled.
"I have met many orcs and Ururk-Hai who would share that opinion," Leigh said proudly.
The day dragged along in tense boredom. The hunkering trees made more than a few of the riders uneasy to say the least, and the knowledge of their destination unnerved most of the rest. Eventually, and to Maylin's relief, Leigh settled down again and just leaned back against Boromir to watch the limbs pass. Jack tried counting trees for awhile, but the headache he reaped just wasn't worth it. Attempts at sparking a conversation all fizzled out in a matter of minutes, even among the three young people in the party.
What Leigh came to find rather disturbing was the fact that between the heavy roots of the Fangorn trees, which looked like they had been growing there since before the coming of the sun, there were periodical tufts of the green and yellow grass of the Riddermark. It was like seeing a fingernail growing from the middle knuckle, it just didn't look right, sort of distorted, deformed. While she had no doubt that it would be a breathtaking experience to see these trees in their actual habitat, Leigh couldn't shake the feeling that she wanted them to go away, off the ground that wasn't theirs. She shook herself mentally. This was ridiculous.
Maylin simply enjoyed going along under the quiet shades of the ancient trees. Everything was peaceful to her mind, quiet, like how the world was in the beginning of days. Behind her, Legolas was alert and giddy from the massive trunks and branches the laced themselves around beside and above them. His arms were around Maylin, holding her steady before him on the swaying war horse. All was strong and steady here, sweeping and beautiful. The leaves danced in Maylin's mind, over her heart, wrapping it in their healing coolness.
They finally came out from under the heavy branches of the strange forest but suddenly Legolas turned his horse to look back.
"There are eyes!" Legolas shouted. "There are eyes in the forest. I have never seen such eyes before." To everyone's shock he began heading back towards the woods.
"Stay, Legolas Greenleaf!" Gandalf commanded. "Do not go back into the wood, not yet! It is not your time."
Before he even finished saying that three massive creatures swayed out of the trees on legs like trunks. Each was at least twelve feet high in their grey and green splendor. Their skin was rough like the scratchy bark of the trees they had just passed earlier. Mossy green beards hung down from their faces and trailed down like Spanish moss that dripped down from the boughs of so many swamps and forests in the Four's own world. It seemed that their clothing was akin to lichen or something of the kind, but blended in so well with the woody complexions of the tree herders that it was hard to tell where it started and where it stopped. Deep, solemn and sad eyes looked beyond the Riders and to the north, seeming to see into eternity. Each of the strange things raised their hands to their mouths and raised a call like a horn. A note exactly similar to their own came ringing back and another group of the long-legged beings came striding down from the north.
Leigh gazed at the graceful and powerful creatures in awe, a grin set on her face. Behind her Boromir made no movement or sound, obviously in shock, even though he had enjoyed the forewarning of seeing these creatures' tracks in Fangorn when they searched for the Hobbits.
Jack's keen eye swept over the stately herdsmen with the studying eye of a bard, learning and absorbing all that he could in the moments he was honored with such a sight.
The Elves were observing the treeherds with the calm interest of their kind, holding the regal beings before them in silent adoration, marveling at the noble bearing which they so naturally possessed.
Several of the Rohirrim, including the King, went for their weapons with cries of fear and dismay.
"You need no weapons," Gandalf told them firmly. "These are but herdsmen. They are not enemies, indeed they are not concerned with us at all." As if to prove his words, the wood-things turned and all went into the forest once again.
"Herdsmen!" Theoden exclaimed. "Where are their flocks? What are they, Gandalf? For it is plain that to you, at any rate, they are not a stranger."
"They are the shepherds of the trees," Gandalf replied solemnly. "Is it so long since you listened to tales by the fireside? You have now seen Ents, O King, Ents of Fangorn Forest. To them you are but the passing tale; all the years from Eorl the Young to Theoden the Old are of little count to them; and all the deeds of your house but a small matter."
The King was silent, deep in his own thoughts and reflections on seeing what were believed to be nothing but myth to his people. "Ents!" he wondered aloud after awhile. "Out of the shadows of legend I begin a little to understand the marvel of the trees, I think. I have lived to see strange days. The songs have come down among us out of strange places, and walk visible under the Sun."
"You should be glad, Theoden King," Leigh told him quietly. "For not only the little life of Men is now endangered, but the life also of those things which you have deemed the matter of legend. You are not without allies, even if you know them not."
Gandalf turned to Leigh and beamed at her. The girl had grown much indeed since he had last journeyed far with her.
"Yet also I should be sad," Theoden sighed. "For however the fortune of war shall go, may it not so end that much that was fair and wonderful shall pass for ever out of Middle-earth?"
"It may," said Gandalf. "The evil of Saruman cannot be wholly cured, nor made as if it had not been. But to such days we are doomed. Let us now go on with the journey we have begun!"
They continued their journey towards the nearest of the Two Towers and the earth began to show the signs of abuse and wear that only the dark hearts of the powers of evil could inflict so ruthlessly. Maylin's mind drifted to wonder what the lands before Mordor must be. Poor Jaden would be forced to see such horrors in person, not from the safety of a couch and the slim pages of a book.
At long last they came to the river Isen where so many brave warriors of the Mark had fallen against the cold and heartless steel of Isengard's malice. As they approached, Leigh glanced over on occasion to see how Lord Eomer was faring. His cousin had died here, and his body remained nearby as well. It would undoubtedly not be easy for the horselord to come this way and face the place where his fate to be the heir to the throne had been decided and his good friends had lost their lives in gruesome battle.
Eomer's heart thumped hollowly in his chest as they neared the battle field where his dear cousin had died fighting an unstoppable horde. A mist had descended to add to the gloom of his inward despair, it seemed almost as if nature were trying vainly to conceal the blood that stained her fair face. Where was the joy of victory when all those who had truly suffered for it were no more, were not there to share in the blessings of their toils and pains? What was the good of living in a land that had lost those that made it a home, not just a place? The men that had died here were more than mere soldiers to him, they were his brothers, his kin, every one of those that had perished he held as dear as those who shared his own blood.
For a brief moment the eyes of Leigh and the mighty Rider met through the fog. Leigh's heart bled inside her for this poor man before her. In his usually piercing eyes was a look of lost despair and sorrow. Eomer did not expect to find her eyes meeting his when he turned, but there she was, looking through his eyes and into his soul, the heart of his suffering. Slowly, reluctant to lose the gentle, caring solace of her gaze, he turned away again and continued on into the mist.
Something at the back of Jack's mind pricked and bumped like something was wrong and just wasn't getting it. He tried to shrug it off, but the unsure and confused feeling still flitted around in uneasy circles in the back of his mind. When they finally reached the ford, he understood what had been troubling him. The river that should be rushing along here was nothing more than a depressed trickle through the grey sand and rocks.
"This has become a dreary place," Eomer said. "What sickness has befallen the river? Many fair things Saruman has destroyed: has he devoured the springs of Isen too?"
"So it would seem," Gandalf replied darkly.
"Alas!" Theoden mourned. "Must we pass this way, where the carrion-beasts devour so many good Riders of the Mark?"
"This is our way," Gandalf said firmly. "Grievous is the fall of your men; but you shall see that at least the wolves of the mountains do not devour them. It is with their friends, the Orcs, that they hold their feast: such indeed is the friendship of their kind. Come!"
Leigh pitied Eomer, and when she was close enough to him she whispered softly, "Fear not, my Lord. Not all is as dark as it seems, have faith." Eomer looked at the strange woman in confusion as she once again moved off in the shifting line of riders. Her words brought him a strange comfort that he couldn't quite place and for a brief moment his heart returned from its icy state, like the sun had peeked around a cloud for a second.
The grim company sloshed across the pitiful remainder of the river in grief stricken silence. Even those who had not known the men who had died here, or shared the same blood of these dead Riders, such as the young people and the Three, there was a bleak sadness that they breathed in with the air that reached through their lungs and froze their hearts. What had once been a light mist was now a heavy fog, and the leaders of the company couldn't even truly see the end of the line of horsemen behind them. The 'splats' of the horses' hooves clomping through the muddy pools changed suddenly to 'clicks' and 'clops' as they came upon the islet in the middle of the river. Here was where many of the dead had fallen.
"Look!" Gandalf waved his staff towards something in the mist. "Friends have labored here."
Jack strained to lean forward in his saddle to see through the cloud of vapor around them and get a glimpse of what Gandalf was talking about. A mound had been raised in the middle of the little island, ringed with stones, and many spears were set around it as a silent and lasting testimony to just who lied buried within that mound.
"Here lie all the Men of the Mark that fell near this place," Jack whispered in quiet reverence.
"Here let them rest!" Eomer called, pulling his sword from his sheath and holding it out in salute to the men that had perished. "And when their spears have rotted and rusted, long still may their mound stand and guard the Fords of Isen!"
Maylin and Legolas bowed their heads in respect and murmured Elven blessings to honor such brave Men as those that had died in that place.
Silently Boromir watched the exchange between Lord Eomer and Leigh. When the Rohirrim had finished his salute to his Riders, he had turned and bowed his head to the girl riding with Boromir, in thanks for her kind words she had given him earlier. For some reason he could not explain, Boromir's blood ran hotly in his veins at this sight. He had been proud of Leigh's gentle and heartfelt consolation to the Rohirric lord, but he didn't like it at all when the other man returned the honor. Surely there was no call for such feelings of defensive aggression? The man was the heir to the throne of Rohan after all, probably the closest friend of Gondor besides the current King. Why then did his eyes turn to flint every time the horselord so much as glanced at Leigh? It was nothing, surely it was nothing. It was simply the mist boggling his eyes and confusing his mind.
After the honors had been paid to the fallen Men of the Mark, the spirits of the King's company lightened a bit and they continued on towards Isengard along an ancient highway that was apparently still well used. After a while of trotting along on this road, Gandalf called a halt to stop and rest for the night.
Men scurried about dismounting and carefully checking over their steeds, their most prized possessions and friends of old. The fog had defied the wishes of all and had become even thicker. It was becoming hard to see clearly for more than a few yards away from one's self. In this bustle of Men, horses and blinding mist, Leigh was trying to dismount. Boromir had swung down quickly, but just as he turned to help her down Aragorn had called from somewhere in the gloom and Boromir had been off with merely an apologetic look. Now Leigh was stuck on a horse that was getting spooked by the strange shapes that kept popping up like shadows in the mist and there was no way she was going to try just jumping off of a moving horse. Without warning, a dismounted Rider dashed out of the shadows and finished the spook-job on the horse Leigh was mounted on and the infernal thing reared.
"Eeeek!" Leigh yelped. "Down! Down, horsy, down!"
A few men were just sort of standing there looking at each other and then at the rearing horse, obviously not sure what to do with the situation. There were a couple that had some sense in them and leapt forward for the horse's reins to try and get control over the animal again, but most of them just kind of stood there gawking. In the mean time Leigh was hanging on for dear life and praying that the crazy animal would just stop long enough for her to do what she had considered earlier: jump for all she was worth.
A smooth and controlled voice drifted to Leigh over the horse's wild whinnies and poundings murmuring in Rohirric. At first the horse shied again from this newcomer, but after a minute or two of gentle whispers and quiet caresses on the nose, the beast finally settled down.
Leigh finally dared a peek up from the mane of the crazed horse to see just who her rescuer was. Eomer stepped carefully around the antsy horse and lifted Leigh off the horse. The teenager balked inwardly at how easily the man lifted her clear out of the saddle and onto the ground blushing at the same time from their contact.
"You certainly seem to have a knack," Leigh laughed, trying to distract herself from her thoughts.
"For taming horses or rescuing you?" Eomer asked.
"Both," Leigh consented. "Thank you yet again, Lord Eomer."
"You are certainly worth saving, my lady," Eomer replied. Before Leigh could possibly say anything in response he turned and walked off into the foggy night leaving an open-mouthed teenager in his wake.
After everything had been settled, a few men went off to try and sleep, the young people were not some of them. Jack had whipped up a little campfire for their use only, and the mist had dissipated, leaving the three a bit happier than they had been recently. When all the affairs with the other 'important' people had been settled Aragorn joined the three as well as Legolas and Gimli, who had wasted no time joining their friends, by the happy minuscule fire.
"That fire really isn't going to keep you very warm you know, Jack," Maylin smirked.
"It's for atmosphere," Jack grinned. "So... how did everyone's day go?"
"Up and down, up and down," Leigh said drearily. "Then, tree, tree, tree, tree..."
"Yeah," Jack grinned, "a few too many trees for me too... and a bit too much riding."
"It was not too many trees!" Maylin disagreed vehemently. "It was a forest, you twit, there are supposed to be lots of trees in forests."
"I think we were being sarcastic, Maylin," Leigh snickered. "I like trees just as much as the next guy, these were just... out of place I guess."
"Oh how I would love to see the true forest of Fangorn!" Legolas sighed, gazing dreamy eyed into the fire.
"I might not mind seeing them in their real place," Jack shrugged. "As long as we walk..."
"Hey," Leigh cut in. "I have more reason to dislike horses than you ever will, so drop it."
"What happened this time?" Aragorn teased. "Did your horse run away with you?"
"No. It just reared is all."
"And where was Boromir during this?" Gimli rumbled in agitation.
"Someone," Leigh glared at Aragorn who had to turn away to hide his grin, "called him off right after he got down, he didn't have time to help me off."
"Who helped you then?" Jack asked, leaning forward like a schoolboy anxious for a story.
"Lord Eomer... again."
Gimli muttered and cursed angrily beneath his breath and Legolas and Aragorn exchanged a look that agreed that they should change the subject before the Dwarf hurt someone, namely: Boromir or Eomer.
"Is your harp still with you, Jack?" Legolas asked in his clear Elven tones.
"Yes..." Jack gave the Elf a distrustful look.
"Well I can think of no better time for a demonstration then," Aragorn leaned back with a cocky grin.
"I can't play by myself!" Jack cried. "I always had someone play something else with me or sing while I was in Lothlorien!"
"Alright then," Aragorn turned towards the others in the circle. "Any volunteers?"
"Leigh can sing," Maylin piped up.
"Maylin!" Leigh yelped in mortal distress.
"Any other volunteers?" Silence.
Around the camp Men paused in their talks and labors. Through the camp the strums of a harp and the notes of a voice danced through the camp.
Can you hear my cries?
Can you see my eyes?
I am calling out to you, Mmm.
Calling in the distance, softly,
Could it be the sound of my heart?
Here I am before you, reaching,
Could it be I'm slipping away?
Can you hear my cries?
Can you see my eyes?
I am calling out to you, Mmm.
Suddenly I see I'm falling,
Trying to find a way off the ground.
Will I see the future in me,
As I see it slipping away?
Can you hear my cries?
Can you see my eyes?
I am calling out to you.
As the song drifted off into the evening a darkness rolled forward along the banks of the river. Panic sparked among the men resting along the shore and some began to grab for their weapons. Then Gandalf's voice cut through the sudden dark fog and fear.
"Stay where you are! Draw no weapons! Wait and it will pass you by!"
Towering shapes swayed by in strange columns past the camp. People cowered down on the ground or huddled into groups in a sad excuse for protection. Legolas draped one long arm around a shaking Maylin and pulled her close, soothing her fear of the shapes. Not for the first time that night Leigh wondered where Boromir had gotten to. He had simply vanished after Aragorn had called him off, and now she wished more than ever that he was there with them. Like a genie had heard her wish when she rubbed its lamp, Boromir appeared behind her and pulled her to himself with both heavy arms, glaring through mist as if daring one of the things to try something.
It took what seemed like ages for the things to pass by the little camp. When they had finally gone no one felt like sleeping anymore and they packed up again soon afterwards and continued on their way to Isengard.
A/N: I am ready and rearin' to have shipper groups form! Who do you want Leigh to go with? Who would you go with? Share such deep thoughts as these when you REVIEW! SAVE THE AUTHORS!