Disclaimer: I only own Ira, Eleniel, Ghardaz, Carenna and (for a short time) Johna. Mac Gustah owns Dwin, Vevina and Fundin.
A/N: Okay, it's been ages. Sorry, I've just been somewhat lacking inspiration. Updates might slow down for a bit until I regain my eagerness for this story. Bear with me for the time being. Thanks x
BIG thanks to: lordrednight, Aria-chanforever, Minaly22, Reaper Of All Souls and Master Archive for favouriting/following. Love you guys. Have a virtual cookie (because I can't make cookies in real life. Tried once. Epic fail... I will say no more on the subject.)
Review Response(s):
snowbeard3: I'm glad you thought so. :)
Ny'Kle: Don't I know it *~*
Mac Gustah: No, I have not heard of DayZ. Sounds interesting, though. I am glad to hear that the fluff made thou happy, although I must regretfully inform thou that there is none in this chapter. XD
jsun25: Yes, she did. If you go through the first chapter or two of Dragons of the North, you'll find reference to Durnehviir being one of her dragon allies.
Guest: Aww, thank you. That's a BIG statement, it must be said, although I'm ecstatic to hear it. That being said... there is a cliffie in this chapter too. (Sorry, not sorry).
gabiey: Have I told you I love you? No? Okay, I love you. haha, thanks so much. That was really heart-warming to read. For that, and as an extra thank you, I will dedicate this chapter to you. Enjoy!
Chapter 28:
Alduin and Ira decided to stay in Erebor for a week before heading off to the North, to give them time to rest, prepare, and devise a hopefully fool-proof plan. During that time Ira also made frequent trips down to the forges to make them more weapons - smaller ones that they could hide amongst their armour. Much to her amusement, Ira would often find Carenna 'wandering around', and it had happened so often that Carenna's mother had begun to stop worrying once she found her daughter missing, for Ira would always return to the market to reunite mother and daughter before nightfall.
Kili also seemed a lot better. He was still struggling to sleep at the normal times, but his appetite was slowly returning and his bouts of sickness were becoming fewer. Apparently, it was taking a Cure Disease potion every day for these improvements to happen, but the stubborn dwarf was relenting to the fact that he was sick, and so took his potions with only a small amount of grumbling - most of which was about the foul taste.
Currently, Alduin and Ira were in the throne room with Fili, Matryd and Dwin, who, having offered up his services, had taken up the post of Fili's personal guard. The dwarf was stalwart in his duties, and his humorous nature became less obvious when there were potential threats in the room. Like now.
A man stood before them, and while he didn't seem very imposing, Ira couldn't shake the feeling of dread in her gut. Her hand rested on the hilt of her sword, and her eyes closely watched every move he made, be it a tiny shuffle or shift of weight, or something more obvious, like lifting a hand to tuck a lock of his pearly white hair behind his ear. His eyes were crystal blue, and he had a youthful, admittedly handsome face. In truth, despite the daggers at his waist, and the bow and arrows on his back, he looked pretty harmless. And yet he felt wrong.
Alduin had clearly noticed the same thing, for his amber eyes were narrowed in scrutiny, and every muscle in his shoulders was tensed in preparation for an attack. He, too, had a hand on his sword.
The man had been led into the mountain by an escort of six guards, Dwin's son amongst them. He had come willingly, they had told him, and he claimed to simply be passing through to reach Dale. Said he lived there, and often hunted nearby (hence the bow). This was a story they unanimously doubted. Many in the room had come and gone to Dale dozens of times, and not a single one of them had ever laid eyes on him before. He tried to explain that he'd only been living in Dale for a little over a year, but no one was convinced.
Fili had him sent to the dungeons until he could spare the time to interrogate the man. Though Ira thought it was a slightly harsh move, the man was promised decent food and drink, and Fili assured her after the man left that he wouldn't keep him waiting long.
"I don't like him," Dwin said immediately.
"Nor I," Matryd agreed. "He seems innocent enough, but something about him seems just plain wrong. Like he's hiding something very big."
"He most likely is," Alduin grumbled. "For a moment, I almost thought he was a magical creature."
"Me too," Ira said. "He has a strange aura about him. Almost as if he..." She trailed off, shaking her head.
"What?" Fili asked.
"It's nothing, don't worry."
"Ira..."
She sighed. "I don't know... He reminded me of the feeling I got off of the people in Shor's Hall. And off of Akatosh, too. It felt like it was something beyond this plane of existence."
...
"They had no warning, they were unarmed. Now the wild men are moving through the Westfold, burning as they go. Rick, cot, and tree," Eowyn informed them from by the two children. They had arrived less than an hour previously, malnourished and exhausted.
"Where is mama?" The girl cried, but Eowyn quickly shushed her whilst placing a thick blanket over her shoulders.
Gandalf's voice echoed in the air from his seat beside Theoden's throne. The King himself had his head in his hand. "This is but a taste of the terror Saruman will unleash. All the more potent for he is driven mad by fear of Sauron. Ride out and meet him head on. Draw him away from your women and children." The wizard grasped the arm of Theoden's throne. "You must fight."
"You have two thousand good men riding north as we speak," Aragorn said. "Eomer is loyal to you. His men will return and fight for their King. And he is not alone. The fair Princess of Erebor rides with him."
"They will be three hundred leagues from here by now," Theoden despaired, rising from his seat. "Eomer cannot help us." He turned to Gandalf. "I know what it is you want of me, but I will not bring further death to my people. I will not risk open war."
"Open war is upon you, whether you would risk it or not."
"When I last looked, Theoden, not Aragorn, was King of Rohan," the blonde snapped, but Aragorn did not outwardly react. His face remained still.
"Then what is the King's decision?" Gandalf asked, and a deep breath escaped Theoden's lungs.
...
"By order of the King, the city must empty. We make for the refuge of Helm's Deep. Do not burden yourself with treasures. Take only what provisions you need."
"Helm's Deep! They flee to the mountains when they should stand and fight. Who will defend them if not their King?"
The white wizard was positively fuming as he thundered through the streets of Edoras and into the stables.
"He is only doing what he thinks is best for his people," Aragorn defended the King. "Helm's Deep has saved them in the past."
The white wizard shook his head in despair. "There is no way out of that ravine. Theoden is walking into a trap. He thinks he's leading them into safety. But what they'll get is a massacre." He exhaled deeply. "Theoden has a strong will, but I fear for him. I fear for the survival of Rohan. He will need you before the end, Aragorn. The people of Rohan will need you. Their defenses have to hold."
The heir of Isildur nodded gravely and promised, "They will hold."
Gandalf mounted Shadowfax and patted the mearas' fine neck. "The gray pilgrim, that's what they used to call me. Three hundred lives of men I have walked this earth and now I have no time." He turned to face Gimli, Legolas and Aragorn once more. "With luck my search will not be in vain. Look to my coming at first light on the fifth day. At dawn, look to the east."
"Go," Aragorn urged, and Shadowfax sprung forward, carrying his rider swiftly across the plains of Rohan. A loud neighing caught Aragorn's attention, and he turned to see a horse struggling furiously against the ropes tethering it to the wall. The great beast reared onto its hind legs, tossing its head and snorting. Eowyn, taking care of another horse, turned to watch as the trained Ranger approached the wold horse, whose eyes were darting about everywhere.
"That horse is half mad, my lord," a stable hand told Aragorn, who spared the boy little more than a glance. "There's nothing you can do. Leave him."
But he was ignored, and Aragorn drew closer to the horse, murmuring to it in elvish. Upon hearing the lilting tongue, the horse began to calm down. Slowly, and not without caution, Aragorn released the horse of one of its ropes. The horse remained where he was. Still in elvish, Aragorn hummed out a question. "Hwæt nemnað ðe? (What is your name?)"
"His name is Brego," Eowyn said from behind, and though her words surprised him, Aragorn knew she didn't know the elvish language. "He was my cousin's horse."
Aragorn smiled at the horse, stroking his long nose. "Brego? Ðin nama is cynglic. (Brego? Your name is kingly.)" The horse, now calm with the aid of Aragorn's voice, shuffled slightly closer to the Ranger, begging for more petting. With a knowing smile, he obliged and continued to mutter.
"I have heard of the magic of elves, but I did not look for it in a Ranger from the North. You speak as one of their own."
Hesitantly, Aragorn answered, "I was raised in Rivendell... for a time, along with many who are and were like family to me." He patted Brego's neck one last time, before facing the Shieldmaiden fully. "Turn this fellow free. He's seen enough of war."
...
With Carenna once again by her side, Ira made her way down towards the market. Carenna was cheerfully babbling on about this and that, moving from topic to topic so quickly Ira struggled to keep up. First it was her annoying brother, then how she missed her father, then how much she wanted a pretty bracelet she'd seen, then there was a quick thank you for her brooch, and now she was questioning Ira on what it was like to be a shape-shifting legend, although without giving the Dragonborn time to answer.
Presently, Ira let out a pleasant laugh, making Carenna pause her long speech and take a breath.
"What?" The girl questioned poutingly, as if upset that she had been interrupted.
"It's nothing, brit kon. I have spent so long in the company of adults, being near you is refreshing."
Carenna pursed her lips. "Thank you...? I don't really know what you mean by that, but I think it's a good thing."
Ira chuckled and patted the top of Carenna's head reassuringly. "It is, don't worry."
The child let out an exaggerated breath of relief, which had Ira smiling and chuckling again. A commotion suddenly sprung up ahead, and without hesitation Ira rushed forward to see what was going on, Carenna trailing slightly behind her.
"Johna!"
"Papa, help me!" The returning cry was that of a boy, probably even younger than Carenna was.
Ira knelt before the girl. "Do you know where the King's throne room is?" She asked in an urgent voice. Carenna paled slightly, but nodded. "Go there and tell the King what's going on here. Can you do that for me while I help out down here?"
Squaring her shoulders and setting her jaw, a determined glint appeared in Carenna's eyes, and she nodded again, before scampering off. Ira straightened and marched purposefully towards the sound of a wailing boy. The crowd, sensing her intent, parted for her, letting her through without opposition. A dwarf was lying on the ground, stretching his arm down to reach his son, but the boy was several metres too far and couldn't climb up. Tear tracks decorated his pale face, and he let out shuddering sobs every few seconds.
For a moment, a wave of nostalgia washed over Ira. She had been in that boys shoes, in the Misty Mountains with the company of Thorin Oakenshield. This only hardened her resolve, though. She approached the dwarf and placed a hand on his shoulder, causing his face to whip her way. He sagged in relief when he recognised her, before stepping back to let her do her work.
Ira wasted no time.
Swinging herself over the side of the bridge, noticing that, by sheer luck alone, the boy had fallen where there was a support holding up the bridge. A metre in either direction and he would have simply fallen. Luckily for her, the legs were crumbling in places, giving her solid purchase for her fingers as she slowly descended the support. She reached the boy in just under a minute, and, with a little difficulty, managed to swing him onto her back. His legs clung to her waist, and his arms were wrapped so tightly around her neck he was almost cutting off her air supply.
"Are you hurt?" Ira asked him as she struggling back up. This was always the more difficult part of climbing, and the extra weight wasn't doing her any favours.
"I hurt my knees and hands," the boy muttered weakly. "Thank you for saving my, lady."
Ira smiled. "Don't thank me yet; there's still a way to go."
Unfortunately for them, two feet later, the support began to crumbling, and Ira lost grip of the leg with one of her hands. She cursed under her breath as she clung on with just a few fingers, searching frantically for somewhere she could put her now hanging arm, but there was nothing. Resignation filled her, and quick as a flash, Ira let go of the leg, twisting her body to move the boy from her back to her front. On instinct she curled around him as they fell. The boy's cries, along with those of the spectators from above, echoed down the cavern long after the bridge went out of sight.
Ira screwed her eyes shut and prayed to the Aedra, putting all her body, mind and soul behind it in the hopes that they would respond in time.
Cliffie! That is all.
Until next time! XD
