Disclaimer: Short, sweet and to the point: I do not own the Lord of the Rings, you twit.
A/N: STOP POINTING SHARP OBJECTS AT ME! I have the perfect reason to not update: I wasn't here! Ha! I had no computer, so there! You will be pleased to know that I DID write quite a good bit of this out by hand though, I know, I'm hopeless. I go on vacation and work, there's something wrong with this picture... Also, thanks to the extended Two Towers which I watched part of mutters, I have decided to change something in upcoming chapters. THAT caused a headache because it's a pretty major thing... Just need to say... I CAN'T WAIT TO GET INTO RETURN OF THE KING! Yippee! Had to say that, please forgive. Ahem, read on!
Troubles Big as a House
To be hidden by the ferns, Jaden had to lie flat on her stomach. Frodo and Sam were crouching next to her and neither hide nor hair could be seen of Gollum, who had most likely fled to the far side of Ithilien by that point. At that moment Jaden wished she was off and away with him. Poky grass and dry dust were tickling her face in an unpleasant way and she had the burning desire to spit out the dead plant life that was starting to get into her mouth.
Nervous anticipation was grinding away at her nerves when the first sounds of shaking branches and muffled voices really reached them. Jaden dug her nails into the dusty earth below and ground her teeth as the sounds grew closer. On a childish whim she squeezed her eyes shut, thinking that maybe if she couldn't see them, they couldn't see her. Really they couldn't see her, hidden under the fern fronds (the Elven cloak probably helped), and she certainly couldn't see them with her cheek pressed into the dirt, so the whim was right in a manner. Either way, the sounds, now clearly footsteps and male voices, were coming yet nearer.
Was this it? Was this going to be what finally did her in? It wasn't fair! She'd survived Nazgul, wolves, the mountains' fury, Moria along with all its monsters, and years of putting up with Jack, Leigh and Maylin, and now she was going to die at the hands of the noble Gondorians, the good guys!
'Stop it,' she reprimanded herself harshly. 'Is this how you're goin to help Frodo, by cowering at the first sign of trouble?' The other line of thinking just whimpered pitifully. 'Oh great,' she thought. 'Now I'm turning into Gollum.'
"Here!" one of the approaching Men called. "Here is where the smoke came from!"
"Twill be nigh at hand. In the fern, no doubt. We shall have it like a coney in a trap. Then we shall learn what kind of thing it is."
Jaden scoffed internally at the irony of being compared to a coney. For a split second she suddenly felt very sorry for the poor things Sam had cooked.
"Aye, and what it knows!" a third voice cried. After that Jaden pretty much just focused on the troubles at hand as other Men came out all around them.
All three cornered crusaders shared a glance. There was now no hope of hiding or escape.
Without warning, a firm boot slammed into Jaden's back. Rough, calloused hands grabbed her and jerked her onto her feet. The teen yelped, mostly from surprise and suddenly found herself looking up into the stern eyes of Faramir.
Faramir's men stood in a ring around the little space that had been a peaceful shelter only moments ago, armed with spears, long bows and swords. The tall warriors were clad in various shades and hues green and brown that made it look as if the woods themselves had spat them out and armed them with metal from the depths of the ground beneath the tree roots. Early morning sunlight glinted alike in their eyes and on the steel points of their spears and arrowheads. In truth, those glittering eyes were all that was visible of the actual flesh of the men, even Faramir himself bore the same hood, gauntlets and mask that his followers wore.
The eyes of these Men seemed to Jaden to hold and embody the very spirit of the word 'soldier'. There was no doubt that these men would die for their cause, or kill for it, undoubtedly, they already had. Reflections of past glories and horrors swirled just beyond sight behind the coloring or those mysterious eyes. Sorrow and anger rivaled for dominancy in the very souls of the weathered men before the young woman. Jaden found herself torn between awe, pity and fear as she stared up into the eyes she had no doubt belonged to Captain Faramir.
"And what is this you have caught, my lord?" one of the men asked. "Is it our coney, think you?"
Jaden was sure that in his lifetime Faramir had seen many things, both great and terrible, but she was equally sure that he had also never seen a teenage girl with extremely unusual hair come popping out of the bushes. A brief widening of the eyes and a quick flash of surprise confirmed these suspicions.
In the space of two heartbeats Frodo and Sam sprang to their feet and drew their swords to come to their friend's aid. In response to this sudden movement, maybe in surprise or maybe to simply free his hands for his sword, Faramir released Jaden with a slight push towards the other two intruders that had sprung from the grass.
"We have not found what we sought," one of the men said. "But what have we found?"
"Not orcs," commented the second.
"Elves?" the third asked with obvious doubt.
"Nay! Not Elves," Faramir, the fourth, replied. "Elves do not walk in Ithilien in these days. And Elves are wondrous fair to look upon, or so 'til said."
"Meaning we're not, I take you," Sam said indignantly. "Thank you kindly. And when you've finished discussing us, perhaps you'll say who you are and why you can't let three tired travelers rest. "
Faramir laughed grimly and obliged the little Hobbit. For a moment though, Jaden felt a pang of loss at thinking about how that weary laugh might sound if It was placed in a gentler setting and relieved of the heavy burdens and cares it smacked of.
"I am Faramir, Captain of Gondor," he declared. "But there are no travelers in this land: only servants of the Dark Tower, or of the White."
"But we are neither," Frodo insisted. "And we are travelers, whatever Captain Faramir may say."
"Thenmake haste to declare yourselves and your errand," Faramir told him. "We have work to do, and this is no time or place for riddling or parleying. Come! Where is the fourth of your company?"
"The fourth?"
"Yes, the skulking fellow," Faramir frowned, his mistrust deepening. "He had an ill-favored look. Some spying breed of Orc, I guess, or a creature of theirs. But he gave us the slip by some fox-trick."
"I do not know where he is," Frodo said. "He is only a chance companion met upon our road, and I am not answerable for him. If you come on him, spare him. I have him under my care fo a while. But as for us, we are Hobbits of the Shire, and a young woman of the race of Men. Frodo son of Drogo is my name, with me is Samwise so of Hamfast, a worthy Hobbit of my service, and Jaden, a worthy lady from distant lands who joined our company in Rivendell." Faramir started and then focused deeply on what the Hobbit said even as his eyes darted untrusting glances as Jaden. "We left Rivendell with ten other companions: one we lost in Moria, a second was wounded and left in the care of the Lord Celeborn and Lady Galadriel, the others we left at Parth Galen above Rauros: two of my kin; a Dwarf there was also, and Elf, two women of Cardolan, and two Men. They were Aragorn and Boromir, who said that he came out of Minas Tirith, a city in the South."
"Boromir!" all four of the captors exclaimed (A/N: that's from the book, so don't you dare yell at me about it being cheesy. I always found this bit extremely funny, it always reminded me of some slapstick comedy routine where everyone says the same thing the same way at the same time. Anyway, on with the show!).
"Boromir son of the Lord Denethor?" Faramir demanded. A stern look like cold iron had settled onto his face. "You came with him? This is news indeed, if it be true. Know, little strangers, that Boromir was our Captain-General: sorely do we miss him. Who are you tin, and what had you to do with him? Be swift."
"Are the riddling words known to you that Boromir brought to Rivendell? Seek for the Sword that was Broken. In Imladris it dwells."
"The words are known indeed," Faramir answered in astonishment. "It is some token of your truth that you also know them."
"Aragorn whom I named is the bearer of the Sword that was Broken," Frodo explained. "And we are the Halflings that the rhyme spoke of."
"That I see," Faramir mused. "Or I see that it might be so. And what is Isildur's Bane?"
"That is hidden," Frodo stated. "Doubtless it will be made clear in time."
"We must know more of this," Faramir said. "But not now. We have business in hand. You are in peril. I will leave two to guard you, for your good and for mine. If I return, I will speak more with you."
"Farewell!" Frodo replied with a deep bow. "Think what you will, I am a friend of all enemies of the One Enemy. May the light shine on your swords!"
"The Halflings are courteous folk, whatever else they be," smirked Faramir. "Farewell!"
Frodo, Sam, and Jaden sat down once more under the shadows of the bay trees on the cushioning ferns and moss and fell silent, not speaking to each other of their own questions. Fears and worries about the meeting. Their two guards spoke with one another, at first in the Common Tongue and then in a slightly diluted form of Elvish, close by under similar cover. Bilbo's influence as a linguist was clear in Frodo as he watched and listened to the Gondorian Rangers with keen interest that made him look almost laughably like his beloved elder cousin.
Afer a space of the travelers watching the guards and the guards watching the travelers, Frodo finally leapt into their conversation. Then Men were careful with their words and guarded what they let slip to these odd strangers. As the hear of the day grew, the two men occasionally lowered their masks to cool their faces as well as the heavy cloth. During these times the three companions could see the noble faces of these proud Men.
Noble and pale features were framed by dark hair and accentuated by stern grey eyes. Yet there was enough pride in them to cause Jaden to doubt. Pride was, after all, the downfall of Men, the arrogant belief that one could beat all temptations, that Men were strong enough on their own to stand alone against something so evil and powerful as the One Ring. All it took was a little too much misplaced pride, a slight misjudgement, and the first step was taken on the road to evil. Jaden's heart and mind were cautious with these people, unsure whether or not this Faramir could be trusted. While pride was not always evil, it took a man of rare character to best both pride and greed in a situation like the one presented, where both were piqued to their greatest potency, and his family didn't have the best track record thus far. Perhaps, though, she would be pleasantly surprised with the version of Faramir she was now presented with. As Aragorn said, there was always hope.
Conversation with the Gondorians focused chiefly on the evils of the day and the general military tactics being used to defeat them. Evil seemed to come in three forms to these Men: things of Mordor, Southrons, and Haradrim. Jaden pitied these people who seemed to know nothing about anything outside of war and enemies you fought in war. Oh wait, that wasn't really fair, they also spoke a great deal of such great leaders among their own kind as Captain Faramir. At least they still had names besides their military ranks. For instance, the two Rangers assigned to protect them were called Mablung and Damrod.
From what the guards told Frodo, Jaden put together that which she already knew: they were setting an ambush for a large number of Southrons that were flaunting their way towards Mordor, confident that the Dark Lord and his armies that lived there would provide them protection from the puny Gondorians. Now they were going to teach them a lesson, and guess what lucky people got caught in the middle.
"Faramir leads now in all perilous ventures," Mablung said. "But his life is charmed, or fate spares him for some other end."
Jaden gave a wry half-smirk. The man had no idea. Oh yes, he had other things in store for him alright. She could only hope that she would not change that fate.
Suddenly Jaden wondered what fate had in store for her. Certainly, she controlled her own actions, but there would always be things beuond her control that she could not change or influence if she wanted to. Death was one of those things. She might be able to chose safer paths or not to go into Barad-Dur waving a bright red flag to draw attention, but one day she would die. Even if she lived through the War of the Ring, old age would sneak up and her body would simply cease to work. It was a frightening thought, that she was ultimately not in control of her life. When she died, would she go to the after life of the Earth she had come from, or would she go to the halls of Middle-Earth's second life? It was strange to stop and think about death. No one every really discussed it under normal circumstances, probably because it was just one of those topics that made people universally uncomfortable. Was that because so few were sure what would happen to them at death?
Around her, the talk had wound down and silence had swallowed their strange little group as they waited and listened. Even the birds and insects seemed quieter than usual as they strained their ears in the mounting silence.
Sam went over to the edge of the bracken and looked out. He could see the small shapes of Men scurrying over the slope opposite their place, barely visible in their mottled green and brown disguises. The Hobbit's keen eyes still managed to pick them out as they hurried along, though, despite their camouflage. There were many more of them than the troop that had discovered him and his comrades. In a few minutes all of them had passed on out of sight and no trace could be seen that would testify to their having been there. The sun drifted higher above them and the day grew warmer. Afer awhile the shadows themselves shrank back towards whatever cast them, as if afraid of the climbing sun and its heat.
As the shadows receded, Sam crawled back to Frodo and Jaden. Bored and tired, he laid down beside his master and started to doze off.
Sometime later he was startled awake by what sounded like distant horns. The guards leapt to their feet and tensed beneath the trees. The horns rang out again suddenly in the heavy noon air. Shouts and cries of a distant battle accompanied the horn blows, originating from who knew where. Then the chaos erupted just above where they were hidden and the sounds became far more distinct and grotesque. It could no be told whether a clash from above found flesh or was foiled by an enemy sword or breastplate. Through the tumult a loud, strong voice rang out, shouting "Gondor! Gondor!"
"It sounds like a hundred blacksmiths all smithying together," Sam said over the roar to Frodo. "They're as near as I want them now."
"Nearer," Jaden said darkly.
Yet still the sounds dew closer. A meager handful of the ambushed soldiers broke free of the melee and made a dash for their lives. Damrod was giving them all a play by play of the unfolding action and Sam once again scooted up beside the two tall Men to get a first hand take on the fight.
Jaden found that her morbid sense of curiosity had no intention of letting her simply lean back in safety while so much was going on around her. Always one to be curious, she gradually slipped up behind Sam and peeked over his head as the Ithilien rangers chased the crimson-clad Southrons towards their hiding place. It seemed like a weird kind of perverted Christmas parade as the green chased after the red, hacking them down as they caught up little by little with the heavily armored men as their light leather defenses granted them greater freedom of movement and increased speed. Arrows shot through the air at a frantic rate after the fleeing men and many tumbled down on the grassy turf of Ithilien to never rise again. In short, it was a slaughter, the unwary and unprepared men of the South were no match in this foreign land against the disciplined mass of the native rangers whose ancestors had walked these hills since ancient times.
Without warning, one of the scarlet soldiers came tumbling and crashing through the saplings and brush just over their heads and went hurtling over the drop and into the fern. The two Gondorians gave the Southron nothing more than a swift glance before turning back to watch their friends and comrades fighting for their honor and home. Jaden and Sam gave the man far more attention. This soldier was dressed far more richly than the simple style of the rangers. He was decked out entirely in gold, violent red and a bronze corslet. However, instead of inspiring admiration for his fine decorations, all of the vain trappings only increased the garish horror of his broken corpse as if in mockery. The gleaming gold plaited into his hair as dulled by the blood that coated it and the dark locks in adorned. His fine brazen corslet was twisted and hacked along with the regal crimson robes beneath, leaving them in a state of pitiful tatters and shards. Perhaps the greatest mockery were the plain green feathers sticking out from the wooden shaft that barely protruded from just above a golden collar and the hilt of a shattered sword still clutched in his tanned hand.
Both unprepared gazers turned away from the dead body lying only a few feet away as quickly as their rebellious eyes would let them. Sam sat with a deep frown on his face, having never seen Men fighting Men before and thought deeply on how he didn't care for it in the slightest. To him there was a great difference between slaying a vicious Orc and killing a truly intelligent fellow being such as a Man. Jaden on the other hand was no stranger to the wars that constantly seemed to ever rage between the nations of Men. At home, it was impossible to turn on the news without seeing some report on the war her own country was fighting in, or witness through satellite footage of some terrible massacre by the terrorists on the other side of the world. Nonetheless, the vivid gruesomeness of the dead body sprawled so close to her was not something she was really prepared for. An attack of nausea twisted in her stomach and she snapped her eyes shut as she leaned back against the grassy embankment behind her. The sight of the dead Southron hung behind her eyelids and the nausea raged stronger in the pit of her stomach. She clenched her jaw and swore to herself that she would not throw up in front of these Rangers.
One of the others should have been here to do this, she thought. Maylin and Leigh had both endured more scratches and gashes than she had and generally didn't mind the sight of blood that much. In fact, Leigh actually got a weird, masochistic pleasure from showing off her latest wounds to her buddies every time she managed to harm herself again in some bizarre manner. Maylin had a gift of hurting herself with kitchen appliances and other common household items and then displaying the impressive scars off to her friends. Any of them, except maybe Jack, would have done better in this situation. They were all off fighting at Helm's Deep probably for pity's sake!
With these thoughts came unbidden images of her dear friends. It was getting annoying how often they seemed to pop up when she was in a jam or having issues. To the extent of her knowledge Frodo and Sam didn't really think of Merry and Pippin all that often if ever. Why did it always have to be her? She was already a teenager for crying out loud! She had enough issues to deal with already! Jaden's bottom lip trembled in response to the turmoil roaring inside of her and her eyelashes became suspiciously wet. 'No!' she yelled internally. 'I can't cry here! I'm not a weakling, I will NOT cry!'
The Valar seemed to have heard her pleas, for in the next instant there came a tremor through the earth that resembled a faster version of the beat of the Tyrannosaurus Rex's feet from Jurassic Park. Mablung had just begun to go over to the body of the fallen Southron to double check for safety's sake when the thuds became really noticeable and a shrill sound like a trumpet rent the air.
"Ware! Ware!" Damrod shouted to his brother in arms. "May the Valar turn him aside! Mumak! Mumak!
Jaden looked first at Sam's face as the fabled creature tromped through the trees towards them. The little Hobbit had a funny mix of astonishment, terror and boyish delight bouncing across his face as he first beheld his Oliphaunt. Jaden's thoughts were distracted at least for the moment by Sam's amusing expressions and she forced herself to look up and away from him to see the Mumak for herself.
The thing made elephants look like wee little stuffed animals and Jaden was quite sure that she would never be able to respect any she saw in zoos ever again. Also, unlike the elephants of her native world, this thing had no qualms about squashing people that happened to be in its path. Hannibal would have killed to get a couple of those for his army. The thing before her now fit Sam's little rhyme from the Shire perfectly: grey as a mouse, big as a house. Of course... it also kinda depended on what house you were talking about, but either way, this thing could beat the snot out of any mammoth that dared cross its path. Presently, the massive beast was raging, probably due to some arrow pin-pricks, and smashed through any group of men that stood in its way, be they on the enemy side or not. The poor rider clutching desperately to the thing's neck was a rather comical figure... or would have been if the Mumak wasn't headed straight towards them. In the nick of time the mumak swerved, undoubtedly not due to any effort of the helpless rider.
When the thing had passed Jaden started breathing again, surprised to find that she had been holding her breath for quite some time. As she gulped in air she distantly thought about a passage from the book. The passage said that Sam never found out what happened to the enraged Oliphaunt. It could have charged straight to the river or wandered till it starved to death or any number of things, but he never knew for sure. Really, Jaden wondered why he would want to find out. What was he going to do, stick that thing in a local petting zoo?
"An Oliphaunt it was!" Sam said in reverence. "So there are Oliphaunts, and I have seen one. What a life! But no one at home will ever believe me. Well, if that's over, I'll have a bit of sleep."
"Again?" Jaden snickered.
"Sleep while you may," Mablung said to the Hobbit. "But the Captain will return, if he is unhurt; and when he comes we shall depart swiftly."
"Go quietly when you must!" Sam said. "No need to disturb my sleep. I was walking all night."
Mablung laughed at the little man. "I do not think the Captain will leave you here, Master Samwise," he told him. "But you shall see."
A/N: Was is short? Yes. Did it lack action? Yes. Was it insightful in anyway? Doubtful. Did you like it? Reviewer types in answer here. Say bunjee jumping (THAT's spelled wrong...) in your review if you have read this! Don't if you haven't gives cheeky smirk. Thankees and for the love of the desperate author, REVIEW!
