Well guys it feels like it's been longer than it really has been. Lol. This chapter took more effort than I wanted it too, but it also answered a few questions and pushed the plot along. I am excited, and I hope you guys are too. I left an interesting proposal in the Author's Note below, so don't forget to check it out and let me know what you think!
I'm always glad for new reviewers and I'm always appreciative of the ones that keep returning! Let me know if this chapter is up to par!
Chapter 25 – A Crown and a Canopy
"Merry..."
"What, Pippin?"
"We're riding a tree, Merry..."
"I know, Pippin."
"Merry...?"
"Yes, Pippin?"
"Do you think Nalt and Hugi will be all right?"
While Merry and Pippin had clung to the branches of Treebeard's foliage, he had marched them through the forest. Nalt and Hugi had been given leave by Gandalf to go back to Isengard and try to persuade some of the Uruk-hai to empty the pits beneath the tower before the army was supposed to march on Rohan. Both of them were unsure of how much success they would be met with, but had promised to try nonetheless.
Pippin couldn't understand half of what the male Uruk said, but he was rather funny and he enjoyed them both. Merry had been very reluctant to let the lady-Uruk leave, but she had told him that she would repay his kindness by trying to help their resistance. That had been a day ago.
"We Ents have not troubled about the wars of Men and wizards for a very long time," Treebeard said suddenly, in that slow, deep way of his. "But now, something is about to happen that has not happened for an age. Entmoot."
"What is that?" Merry asked. Tree beard was silent for a moment as they approached a large clearing in the wood.
"'Tis a gathering," Treebeard said simply.
"A gathering of what?" Merry asked curiously. His thought was interrupted by the sound of creaking wood, similar to the sounds that Treebeard made. He turned in the branches to see other ents moving through the woods into the clearing. Large, broad trees and slender, tall trees moved with the same deliberate slowness of Treebeard.
"Beech. Oak. Chestnut. Ash. Good. Good. Good. Many have come. Now we must decide if the Ents will go to war," Treebeard said. Merry gave a wicked grin that looked quite out of place on his normally fair and jovial face.
Then the trees spent the next few hours speaking with each other. Pippin had actually fallen asleep at one point, his head leaning precariously on his arm as he listened to the moans and hums of the trees. Merry had begun recounting all of the Hobbit lasses he had ever dated, trying to remember their birthdays and family histories. He had gotten so far as Abigail Tunnelly when Pippin's head slipped off of his arm and he awoke with a start.
"Good Lord..." he murmured.
"It's been going on for hours," Merry said.
"They must have decided something by now," Pippin replied. Treebeard turned to them, leveling them with a bemused look.
"Decided? No. We only just finished saying good morning."
Merry's mouth dropped open.
"But it's been hours already! This is taking forever!" he cried.
"Don't be hasty," Treebeard admonished gently.
"We are running out of time!" Pippin said desperately. Treebeard merely hummed and turned back to his meeting. There was another while of humming and groaning. Then the large ent turned back to the hobbits.
"We have agreed," he said gently, nodding his head as if he'd known all along.
"Yes?" Merry said, trying to prompt a reply.
"I have told your names to the Entmoot, and we have agreed, you are not Orcs," he said. Merry looked rather flustered.
"That's...that's good, right?" Pippin asked. Merry's brows drew together.
"And what about Saruman? Have you come to a decision about him?" he asked.
"Now is not the time to be hasty, Master Meriadoc."
"Hasty? Our friends are out there. They need our help. They cannot fight this war on their own, and Nalt and Hugi could be dying right now as they try to muster a renegade alliance with the Uruks of Isengard," Merry said, pointing South.
"War? Yes. It affects us all. Tree, root and twig. But you must understand, young Hobbit, it takes a long time to say anything in Old Entish and we never say anything unless it is worth taking a long time to say," Treebeard replied.
It was some time before the ent turned back to the hobbits.
"The Ents cannot hold back this storm. We must weather such things as we have always done."
"How can that be your decision?" Merry cried desperately.
"This is not our war," Treebeard explained.
"But you're part of this world! Aren't you?! You must help. Please. You must do something. Our friends will die..." Merry said sadly, tears coming to his eyes.
"You are young and brave, Master Merry. But your part in this tale is over. Go back to your home," Treebeard said gently, extending a branchy finger and brushing a leaf across Merry's cheek to brush his tear away. Pippin reached out and took Merry's hand, sighing softly.
"Maybe Treebeard's right. We don't belong here, Merry. It's too big for us. What can we do in the end? We've got the Shire. Maybe we should go home..." he whispered to his cousin. Merry's face hardened and he pulled his hand away.
"The fires of Isengard will spread and the woods of Tuckborough and Buckland will burn. And…and all that was once green and good in this world will be gone. There won't be a Shire, Pippin," he said, hunching his shoulders and turning away.
"Come. I will leave you at the western borders of the forest. You can make your way north to your homeland from there," Treebeard said, lowering his hands to receive the hobbits. Pippin looked at Merry's stiff back, his eyes darting back and forth as he thought. Then he nodded.
"No. Take us south," he said. Merry turned to him, looking incredulous.
"South? But that would take you past Isengard," Treebeard said with surprise.
"Yes! Exactly! If we go south, we can slip past Saruman unnoticed. The closer we are to danger, the farther we are from harm. It's the last thing he'll expect," Pippin said matter-of-factly, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world and everyone would be retarded to follow any other plan.
"That doesn't make sense to me. But then, you are very small. Perhaps you're right," he said, letting out a whoosh of breath that swayed Merry and Pippin's hair like a gentle breeze. "South it is, then. Hold on, little Shirelings. I always like going south. Somehow it feels like going downhill."
"Are you mad?" Merry whispered fervently as Treebeard gently plucked them up. "We'll be caught!"
Pippin's mouth curled up wickedly, his eyes alight with an unholy fire that Merry had only seen a few times, each time bringing horrifying trouble.
"No. No we won't. Not this time."
With many old, very young, and a few infirm traveling with them, the group had to stop a few times on the way to Helm's Deep. Théoden sat with the remainder of the Fellowship and with his niece, who was accompanied by the Green Lady and the other elf, who he had discovered was named Celebrían. She was a lovely vision when she was not hiding underneath scarves or trying to dim her own inner light. Boromir and the half-Uruk girl that he had been making goo-goo eyes at had disappeared to sit behind a tree for a modicum of privacy.
"So what exactly made you decide to sail back?" Aragorn asked Celebrían as they rested along the ground. Though the company was not tired they took the time to rest anyway.
"Well…I do not possess the gift of foresight like my mother or husband, but I do get…feelings. It's this unavoidable feeling that I get deep in my heart, and I know what I have to do. I just knew I had to sail, though I couldn't say why. So I sought out Lord Ulmo and begged to be brought back across the sea," she said, as the others listened in awe.
"Lord Ulmo? The Vala?" Théoden asked. She smiled.
"Aye, yes. As Lord of the Waters I figured he would be the best candidate to travel with," she replied.
"And why did you not seek out your husband or children?" the King asked. She looked down, worrying at the edges of her sleeves.
"I felt like I should not. That all-encompassing feeling again. I felt like something would be interrupted if I sought them out, and that I should come straight into somewhere that needed me. Lord Ulmo offered to take me to Minas Tirith first, but I was a little…afraid to be so close to the Land of Shadow. So I came to Rohan first, where I was told I would be needed. I have been volunteering in the Hall of Healing," she finished.
"Elrond misses you," James said, looking across the little clearing between them at the Lady of Rivendell.
"I know. I miss him too," she whispered in return. Draca reached over and took Celebrían's hand.
"You'll see him soon," she said, trying to return even a little of the comfort that had been given her these last days.
A young orcling girl ran through their group, chased by a tanned Rohirric child and a brown-skinned Uruk boy. The girl was wearing a little circlet of braided wildflowers, and looked upset as the laughing boys chased her. The orc girl tripped and fell suddenly, skinning her knee upon the ground. The two boys stopped and looked at each other, then the group sitting there, and took off as boys are wont to do when they know they've caused mischief. The little grey-skinned girl rolled over onto her bottom, looking down at her knees. A few droplets of dark blood welled up against the skin, and her lower lip began to tremble spectacularly.
Draca started to get up from her seat, but Théoden King was closer. He stood from his perch and knelt down beside her, peering at her skinned knee with the concern of an adult for a child.
"Now what happened here?" he asked softly as he reached into his pocket to withdraw a clean handkerchief.
"I falled and skinned my knee," came the wobbly reply. She sniffled as the king gently dabbed at the scrape.
"I say, dear child, it would appear that those two ruffians were chasing you. Why is that?" he asked.
"Dey was making fun of my flower crown," she said dejectedly.
"I think it's rather lovely. It's much nicer than the ones I have to wear," he said conversationally. He untucked the plain blue tunic he was wearing, and tore a thin strip from the bottom, wrapping it around his palm before tucking it back. The girl was gaping at him, her bright orange eyes wide with awe.
"You're da king!" she whispered. He gave her a friendly smile and began to wrap the strip of cloth around her knee. "But you not wearing a crown now…" she pointed out. He carefully tied off the ends of the fabric.
"I left my crown back at the Meduseld, my home. I will take it up again when I return home," he replied, reaching under her armpits and lifting her up. "Better?"
"Much better!" she said, laughing shyly. Then she looked curiously at him. With a flash of inspiration she whipped the little crown of flowers off of her head and placed it reverently upon his brow. "A king needs a crown," she said with a wide smile, showing off her white fangs. He laughed.
"I shall be the envy off all of Arda with such a crown!" he laughed.
It was then that a dark-haired woman approached them, her face red with mortification.
"My Lord! I'm so sorry. You scared me half-to-death, Foshnu!" the woman admonished. But the little girl continued to grin.
"Look, mama! Da King wrapped my knee and I gave him a crown!" she crowed proudly. The woman looked at the colorful arrangement of flowers adorning the King's head. She looked horrified.
"You do not have to wear that if you don't wish it, King Théoden," she said in a strangled voice. Théoden stood to his feet, sweeping Foshnu up into his arms and sitting her on his shoulder. She squealed with delight.
"The little lady has decreed that a King should have a crown, and then it was given me! 'Twould be ill-mannered to refuse such a kingly gift!" he laughed, delighted by the child's antics. Though she was grey-skinned with orange eyes, she reminded him of better days, when children used to run rampant through the Meduseld. What he wouldn't give to have those days again…
"I shall take her now, my Lord, so that you may enjoy what is left of your rest," the woman said, holding out her hands. Though he looked slightly disappointed, he handed the girl to her mother. "Thank you."
"Take care of such a treasure, lady, and no thanks is needed," he replied. She nodded vigorously, and then walked off with the girl, who waved goodbye with childish fervor. Théoden waved as well. Then he returned to his seat for the last few minutes of their break. The eyes of the others were on him, with varying expressions. It was the dragon man that finally spoke.
"Hey, King," he said, his voice trembling with mirth. The King's blue eyes were on him, an annoyed look coming over him as he knew the man was going to try to be funny.
"What?" he asked shortly.
"You look pretty."
Several of them snorted with laughter. Gimli guffawed openly, Aragorn was nearly suffocating as he tried to suppress laughter, and even Legolas laughed lightly and clearly. Éowyn has laughing brightly, which was one of the only reasons Théoden did not get upset. He just grinned and bore their laughs.
"You are all merely jealous."
Treebeard had kept up a walking commentary while they approached Isengard, speaking of all sorts of creatures that he had encountered over the years, from great birds to tiny bugs and many things in between.
"And those little family of field mice that climb up sometimes and they tickle me awfully. They're always trying to somewhere where they…" as he exited the unexpected tree line, his voice faded off into nothingness. Around Isengard there were no trees. Where there had been lush forests, there were dead stumps, some splintered and reaching up like skeletal remains. Treebeard gasped.
"Many of these trees were my friends. Creatures I had known from nut and acorn. How many of the little things that lived here were killed? They had voices of their own for those who could hear them…" he said thickly. Then he glanced towards Isengard, where smoke still rose in black plumes. "A wizard should know better!" he cried. Then he threw back his head with a creaking groan and let out a yell that pierced Merry and Pippin's ears, causing them to slap their hands against their heads.
"There is no curse in Elvish, Entish or the tongues of Men for this treachery!" Treebeard exclaimed. Merry reached out and patted Treebeard's bark.
"I'm sorry for your loss," he said sincerely. They heard movement then, and saw the Ents that had just left them emerging from the trees, walking swiftly towards Isengard.
"Where are they going?" Merry asked nervously.
"Their business is with Orcs. My business is with Isengard tonight; with a rock and stone.
"If Nalt and Hugi were successful there may be a group of Uruk-hai that are not bad, Treebeard! Tell them not to hurt them if they are with them!" Merry said desperately, frightened to think the lady might be harmed simply for being around the others. Treebeard yelled again, his call making them others pause. Several long cries pierced the night, before the others called back in reply.
"They will look for the Orcs who do not act like the others," he reassured the Hobbit. Merry breathed a sigh of relief.
"Yes…thank you," Merry sighed.
"Come, my friends. The Ents are going to war. It is likely that we go to our doom. Last march of the Ents," Treebeard said, starting his march towards the dark tower once more.
They moved, growing ever closer to their sanctuary. The Redling Riders had interspersed with the riders surrounding the women and children, acting as another barrier to protect them should the come across roving orcs. Their preparation was called for more quickly than they anticipated.
Phelan's mount shoved its head up suddenly, barking sharply and glaring up at a cliff face. Phelan looked up, his ears twitching as he tried to listen. He moved forwards suddenly, coming up beside Háma and Gamling.
"Wargs," he growled. Gamling looked over at the Wolfmaster.
"Ain't that what you're riding?" he asked, only a little disdainful.
"No, fool! There are warg-riders about, and they're keeping downwind. I have no idea how close-,"
His sentence was cut off as a warg attacked from the cliff, knocking him from his mount. But the wolf he was riding turned quickly, slashing broad paws and gutting the orc riding the warg, before snapping forward and grabbing the ugly wolf's neck and jerking it from Phelan. He was only scraped as he scrambled to his feet, mounting his wolf as Gamling and Háma turned back to the others.
"That was a scout!" Legolas cried. Then there was a multitude of growls and snarls as they were surrounded by many orc-riders on their mounts. The Redling mounts barked challenges at their hideous cousins.
"Warg! We're under attack!" Aragorn cried.
Many of the women and children began to scream, clinging to each other in terror.
"Get them out of here!" James yelled, drawing his sword and moving in front of Draca.
Théoden turned to Éowyn, his face serious.
"You must lead the people to Helm's Deep. Make haste!" he said. Éowyn looked upset.
"I can fight!" she exclaimed.
"No! You must do this, for me. They need someone to take them ahead, someone who is strong and trustworthy. You must also explain to the ones guarding the Deep that the ones on wolf-back are with us. Go now!" he said, turning his horse away. Éowyn stared after him for a few moments, before she kicked her mount into a trot.
"To me! Follow me!" Théoden called, leading the riders away from the fleeing refugees.
"Make for the lower ground!" Éowyn called to the fleeing civilians. Many of the younger Redling warriors were going with the people of Rohan as they fled, and a few gave up their mounts for women with children who were panicking. Many Redling horses and wolves alike were given for this cause as the ones fleeing with them ran on tireless foot. "Stay together!"
They made for Helm's Deep quickly.
"Stop it, Hathalmyrn."
The wraith in question sighed softly, plopping down on the ground near one of the groups. The soldiers nearby scooted far away. Harry tried once again to get himself comfortable on his rock perch. Hathalmyrn had been singing some god-awful song in the Black Speech, and it was making some of the women cry.
They were only a few miles march from Helm's Deep, as the sun was making its way ever down. They had been in Rohan for nearly four days now, marching tirelessly towards a vague goal that the Blue Wizards assured them would be receptive.
"Are we there yet?" Sirius asked.
"No, shut up," Lucius snapped.
"Aww…c'mon, Lucius…don't be so….pointy," Sirius said, snickering to himself. Orion shook his head with a sigh.
"Black, we would all appreciate it if you would find the nearest tree and hang yourself from it," Lucius said. Sirius just grinned.
"You're just jealous of my body," he replied. Lucius snorted.
"That must be it. Not. I'd rather try to snog the Grim Reaper over there," Lucius said, pointing towards Hathalmyrn with his head.
"I dunno…I think he was checking out your arse. He might like it if you did the tongue tango with him," Sirius said. Hathalmyrn shuddered.
"I'd rather be considered the lover of Khamûl," he muttered. Sirius cackled.
"Oh gods! The frigging Nazgûl doesn't even want to kiss you!" he snorted. Lucius threw a rock at the dark-haired wizard, eliciting a yelp.
"I'm going to find a cave to bury you in, Black," Lucius growled. Harry watched the two bicker, rolling his eyes.
"It's a good thing our lives aren't on the line or anything," he muttered.
Helm's Deep came in sight as the sun colored the Western Sky with a rainbow of beautiful colors.
Ah….we are so close. Well, I hope you guys found enjoyment and entertainment in this story. Sorry it took a while to get up.
You know…I've read a lot of fanfiction in my day. And here in the LotR section, there are many, many clichés. Some can be made into fantastic stories. Some are stupid and should be burned with holy fire. One of the greatest clichés is 'Girl falls into Middle Earth.' One of the most clichéd plot twists to that is 'Girl falls into Middle Earth and gets turned into an Elf.' Well I was thinking: that has been done, and done hard. I had a little brain fart. While clichés can be fun to do, I like to try to do something different. So here's what I propose: Girl falls into Middle Earth and gets turned into an Orc.
Would any of you read that? You've seen my style and sampled my humor. Would any of you be interested in seeing a sneak peak of something if I ended up writing anything down with this? It seems really interesting to me, but I don't want to put a lot of effort into it if I don't think it will go anywhere. Let me know!
Favorite, follow, but please, oh please, oh please Review!