Disclaimer: Let me see what am I supposed to put here?... Oh yes. I don't own The Lord of the Rings. Done.
A/N: I am spoiling you people, really I am. Oh well... Too bad, so sad. Another fairly long one for you, and... it's all about JADEN! Sigh I went to the local Renaissance Festival with weekend with a buddy of mine... I wanna go baaack! Sobs
Purposes Revealed
The Tower of Cirith Ungol might contain nothing but dead Orcs, two frightened hobbits, and one terrified teenager, but it still retained its fearful malice. With every step the three friends took down the spiral stairway they felt the terror dripping from the stones and oozing through the gaping cracks. The quaint tower room they had left behind began to seem friendly and cozy in comparison with the rest of the fortress. When at last they broke out into the courtyard and the eternal, dull glare of Mordor, they came upon a new enemy... or rather a pair of them.
In the gateway sat the strange, terrible, and immovable Watchers. They were two twisted and evil figures each formed in the shape of three joined bodies, with vulture heads and claws lying on their knees. They guarded the Tower in eternal vigilance, forbidding anything of the light to enter... or leave. Jaden shuddered as she felt their will bent against her, making an almost physical barrier before her. With every fiber of her body she wanted to turn around and run back into the dark watchtower and all the way up the stairs to that accursed little room. Sam had beaten them on his way in with the Phial of Galadriel, but it was far easier to get in than to get out, and the Two Watchers were angry.
By the time they had pressed forward to the gateway, Frodo had collapsed to the ground, and was fighting to not slip into a dead faint.
"I can't go on, Sam," he murmured. "I'm going to faint. I don't know what's come over me."
"I do, Mr. Frodo," Sam replied stoutly. "Hold up now! It's the gate. There's some devilry there. But I got through, and I'm going to get out. It can't be more dangerous than before. Now for it!"
Then Sam drew the elven-glass from his pocket and raised it on high as he had when he had fought past the Watchers the first time. As if honoring the rough little hand that held it, the light blazed forth and chased away the shadows in the courtyard and under the gate, but the Watchers were ready this time and their will could not be so easily defeated.
"Gilthoniel, A Elbereth!" Sam shouted. For reasons he did not know or understand, his thoughts were pulled back to long ago, when he had seen the Elves in the forest back in the Shire.
"Aiya elenion ancalima!" Frodo and Jaden cried from behind him, moved by a strange passion to cry out against the darkness.
In that instant, the will of the Watchers was broken and the three stumbled forward through the archway. Then they ran. As they dashed past the seated statues with their cold, glittering eyes, a crack split the air. Just moments after they had reached safety, the entire gateway came crashing down in a heap of dark rubble. A bell began clanging in the Tower, and from the Watchers rose a terrible wail that rent the air. Their cry was answered. A black shape swooped down from the clouds and gave a ghastly shriek.
Jaden crouched down on her heels and tucked her arms over her head as the Black Rider wheeled down high above her. After all she had seen, the terrible shriek of the Nazgul still terrified her beyond words. Her heart pounded in irregular convulsions and her breath shook and rattled between her teeth. Luckily, Sam still had a bit of his wits left and quickly put away the phial.
"Run, Mr. Frodo!" he shouted. "No, not that way! There's a sheer drop over the wall. Follow me!"
Forcing her icy limbs to move, Jaden floundered unsteadily behind her small guide, using every bit of mettle she possessed to stay upright and moving. Within moments they had gone around a rocky corner in the path and were safely out of sight from the Tower. The Nazgul's cries, however, echoed off the cliffs and resonated in the fugitives' ears.
Together, they hurried on through the red glare and pressed on towards their dreaded destination. The rocks were jagged and cruel to Jaden's feet, covered only in the thin, Elven boots, but she hardly noticed as the fear of orcs coming to the aid of Cirith Ungol clenched in her gut. Thus far there had been no opportunity to leave the road, and it would be more than suspicious if a company of orcs spotted them running in the opposite direction of the summons. All three were nervous and strained, looking for a way to escape off of the road. At last an opportunity presented itself just as the sound of iron-shod feet came drifting towards them.
They now stood before a bridge and the sounds of the orc-company was drawing near. The deepness of the gorge had shallowed, and they had no other choice. Once they had scrambled to the edge of the lowest parapet of the bridge and readied themselves for the fall, Jaden remembered that once upon a time she had been slightly afraid of heights. What bothered her now was that it was too dark to see where they would land.
"Well, here goes, Mr. Frodo," Sam said. "Goodbye!" He let go, and the others followed.
Even as they plummeted down, the ringing of hooves and feet on the bridge above them rattled in their ears. Jaden distantly remembered this part in the book. Sam had been afraid of suffering a rough landing on the rocks, but instead they all landed in thorn bushes. The old, dry bushes broke her fall easily but with a painful price. Evidently the thorns of Mordor were longer and probably sharper than the common variety. By the time she stopped rolling, Jaden knew that she had suffered at least three gashes and a goodly number of deep scratches. One such scratch was along her hand, and she could feel the blood starting to trickle from the wound.
Once the sound of pounding steps had faded, Sam ventured a whisper.
"Bless me, Mr. Frodo, but I didn't know anything grew in Mordor! These thorns must be a foot long by the feel of them; they've stuck though everything I've got on. With I'd a'put that mailshirt on!"
"Orc-mail doesn't keep these thorns out," Frodo replied. "Not even a leather jerkin is any good."
"I wish my elvish mail worked," Jaden sighed, actually pulling a barb free from her side. "Ouch."
By the time they had fought free of the both blessed and accursed thicket, their cloaks were in tatters and several more gashes and scrapes had materialized on their arms and legs. The remnants of the Fellowship fought onwards, though, and were soon walking along the valley floor in their funny armor and bleeding cuts. Somewhere far to the west the sun rose once more to bring morning to the fertile earth, but in Mordor the night prevailed and the choking blackness in the valley remained. The whole of Mordor was hard and dead, even the air held deathly still. No breeze brought relief to the heat in the valley, and soon the three were parched with a thirst echoed by the land around them.
They stopped after a while and rested with their backs to a great boulder. After the events of the day, they needed a few moments at least to catch their breath.
"If Shagrat himself was to offer me a glass of water, I'd shake his hand," Sam reported in a raspy voice ravaged by thirst.
"Don't say such things!" Frodo exclaimed. "It only makes it worse."
Frodo stretched out then and let his body regain a little bit of its stamina before they pressed on. Next to him, Jaden's eyes were half-closed but alert. As Sam dropped off beside her, the teen forced herself to remember why she was in that horrible place, why she had voluntarily joined with these little hobbits when she could be snuggled away someplace safe, like Rivendell. 'Yes,' she thought, 'remember Rivendell. Remember Lothlorien, remember what you're fighting for.' It was a queer fight, really. Sam had killed only a handful of Orcs in the Tower, as well as Shelob, but they had done hardly any fighting thus far. Sneak and scamper was their way. No open battle or direct confrontation, not even the Ithillien Rangers' sort of fighting. They just hid and ran, bearing the one thing that could end this awful darkness forever.
With a struggle, Frodo rose beside her, and he quickly set to waking up his faithful companion.
"Wake up, Sam!" he ordered. "Come on! It's time we made another effort."
"Well I never!" Sam floundered. "I must have dropped off. It's a long time, Mr. Frodo, since I had a proper sleep, and my eyes just closed down on their own."
Frodo led the way for a time, but he soon stopped, and after a brief disagreement with Sam, shed his heavy mail. Sam rapidly offered him his elven cloak, which Frodo accepted without complaint and wrapped himself in against the sudden chill that had descended. On they went for a little longer, Jaden beginning to feel the cold Frodo had shuddered from. It wasn't a natural cold, like the chill of white snow and crystal ice ('Oh! Don't think of water!'). Instead it was like a black silence that intruded on a still summer's night and silenced the crickets in the grass and the owls in the trees. It was like a slow, seeping poison that slipped inside of your lungs and froze you literally to the bone. 'I hate this place,' Jaden thought suddenly.
Suddenly, Frodo stopped again and looked up towards the shrouded sky.
"There is a Black Rider above us, I can feel it," he informed them. With a sick twist in her stomach, Jaden realized that she could as well. The feeling was like an icy mist on her skin, a distant scream in her ears and a tinge of deeper blackness before her eyes. "We had better keep still for a while."
Neither Jaden nor Sam argued, and soon they were all crouched under the shelter of a boulder. None of them spoke for some time, and then Frodo gave a sigh of relief.
"It's passed," he said, although Jaden had also felt it diminish and fade.
Then, as they stood up, a new wonder and joy was revealed to their tired eyes. Away to the west, over the spiked shadows of the mountains, the heavy veil of cloud was being swept away. The winds of the living world were sweeping the dark mass away back to the land of its origin, and sunlight trickled in through its edges, like light through a grimy window in a prison.
"Look at it, Mr. Frodo!" Sam cried joyfully. "Look at it! The wind's changed. Something's happening. I wish I could see what's going on!"
"A battle," Jaden replied, distracted by the glorious light and thoughts of her friends. "A great battle. I think my friends are there."
"What did I tell you?" Sam cheered. "Something's happening! Things are looking up, Mr. Frodo. Haven't you got some hope now?"
"Well no, not much, Sam," Frodo sighed. "That's away beyond the mountains. We're going east not west. And I'm so tired, and the Ring is so heavy, Sam. I am beginning to see it in my mind all the time, like a great wheel of fire."
"Come, Mr. Frodo!" Sam said, taking his master's hand. "Try a bit further, and then we'll lie down and have a rest. But take a morsel to eat now, a bit of the Elves' food; it may hearten you."
They ate a little of the wafers as well as they could with their dry mouths, and went on their way. Soon they were back on a regular and well-used track which, while dangerous, would bring them to Mount Doom much faster than scrambling among the rocks, and Frodo was fading.
While the light did not grow stronger and remained like grey dusk, another bit of luck happened upon them. Crossing their path was a thin stream of water.
"Light and now water!" Sam exclaimed in glee as he bounded forward. Then he suddenly stopped and looked back. "Let me drink first, Mr. Frodo," he requested.
"All right, but there's room enough for two," Frodo pointed out.
"I didn't mean that," Sam replied. "I mean: if it's poisonous, or something that will show its badness quick, well, better me than you, master, if you understand me."
"I do. But I think we'll trust out luck together, Sam; or our blessing," his master nodded.
Jaden swiftly moved to kneel besdie Samwise and swallowed mouthful after glorious mouthful. Even though in any other place in Middle-Earth the water would have been regarded as too foul to even step in, to the thirsty travelers it was like the purest drink in the world served in a silver bowl. Sam filled their only remaining water skin (the orcs had slashed Frodo's and Jaden's) from the stream and they all turned to face their next challenge.
They climbed up the side of the rock wall beside them and began looking for a place to settle down for a wink or two of sleep. On their way, they found more of their spiky friends the thorn bushes. Dead leaves that had withered a year ago hissed like a dead rattle whenever they were bumped or blown. A few buds were just starting to open, but these were crawling with maggots and great, black flies that swarmed and stung. At last they stopped and had a bit of the food from Faramir that Sam still had in his pack. The lembas were best saved for darker days. Sheltered by one of the loathsome excuses for a bush, Jaden soon dropped off with some encouragement from faithful Sam.
By now Jaden was getting the feeling of being the fifth wheel on their little expedition and she wished with all of her heart that she had stayed back in Rivendell, where it was safe and no flies bit you. She had been a fool to think that she could help them. All she was doing now was eating portions of the precious food needed to reach Mount Doom. Why, oh, why had she come? She might have been useful somewhere else, but in Mordor she was nothing but a liability. Stupid, stupid Jaden.
The next day was unpleasant to say the least, they went the wrong way and had to backtrack to get where they wanted to go. What's more, while hiding from two orcs on the road, they gathered the news that everyone's favorite vagabond was still on the loose, and not even the orcs could catch him. Sam had eyed Frodo nervously, obviously thinking back to that mail Frodo had dumped so far back. It might have done him some good in the end.
A close call came when next they stopped. Sam had gone a little ways ahead to find some water, leaving Frodo and Jaden behind to rest. Even in times of mortal peril he was a chivalrous little man. Jaden was tired, so tired she could barely stay awake long enough for Sam to return with the water, but she thought it best to be vigilant. Her guard paid off, and she spotted two round orbs bobbing around the rocks.
"Gollum," she muttered under her breath.
"What?" Frodo asked, looking up.
"Gollum's in those rocks over there," Jaden indicated. "Don't worry, he's not stupid, he knows I see him. He won't try anything right now. Best stay on your toes, though."
"I would if I could," Frodo smiled wryly.
On a sudden impulse, Jaden threw her arms around her little friend and kissed the top of his curly hair as Galadriel had in Lothlorien.
"May I ask what that was for?" Frodo asked in slight amusement.
"I'm not sure," Jaden frowned. "Instinct, like I needed to, or it was my last chance or something."
"You are a good friend, Jaden," Frodo told her. "Strange, but good."
"Thanks," Jaden smiled wearily.
"That Gollum's about again, I'm afraid, Mr. Frodo," Sam reported as he appeared with a glistening water bottle. "Here, drink your fill, the both of you. We can fill it again when we go on."
"Yes," Frodo nodded. "Jaden saw him as well. Bless you, Sam!" After taking a swig from the bottle, Frodo continued, "I'd rather have Gollum than orcs. At any rate he won't give us away to them -unless he's caught."
"But he might do a bit of robbery and murder on his own," Sam growled. "Keep your eyes open, Mr. Frodo!" And with that, Sam flopped over and was asleep.
When he woke up again, both Jaden and his master had fallen asleep and the light had gone down back into the typical black of Mordor. The water bottle was drained and there was no sign of Gollum.
They now faced a perilous path. This was often traveled, and there were many campfires nearby, evidence of an army camping nearby. For a good while all was well, for about twelve miles. However, as they rose from a brief rest and headed on again, they heard the sound they had secretly dreaded all along: the sound of marching footsteps. Frodo looked around them, almost in panic. On one side of the road there was a sheer wall of rock that could not be climbed, and on the other was a deep, dark pit that they daren't try.
"I feared it, Sam," Frodo said. "We've trusted to luck, and it has failed us. We're trapped. We're trapped at last!"
"Seems so," Sam agreed. "Well, we can but wait and see." Then they all sat down against the wall of the cliff.
The orcs did not keep them waiting long. Soon they came marching and swaying into sight, moving as fast as they could under threat of the lash. For a little while, it seemed that they were going to simply pass by and the three could go on, unnoticed. But luck was still against them. One of the two slave-drivers herding the long file of smaller orcs spotted the three figures huddled against the wall and shouted.
"Hi, you! Get up!" he bellowed. When they did not respond he halted the entire company and came down on them. "Come on, you slugs!" he roared. "This is no time for slouching. Deserting, eh? Or thinking of it? Up you get and fall in, or I'll have your numbers and report you."
Obediently, they hurried to the back of the column, only to be ordered several rows forward to keep them from sneaking off. They ran on at an unhuman pace surrounded by their foes for several good miles. The whip-wielder often popped back to them, taunting them and snapping his last at their legs to encourage speed. Just when her legs felt like they were going to give out, Jaden saw the crossroads where the other company was supposed to come and distract the orcs long enough for them to escape... except there was no other company. Why weren't they there? Something had happened, someone had done something, or not done something, and fate had been altered just a little bit, enough to place Frodo and Sam in a real pickle. Of course, Jaden was the only one who knew this, and Frodo and Sam had both long stopped thinking of her as knowing the future. It hadn't even crossed their minds yet.
Swiftly, a plot molded in Jaden's mind, a foolhardy plan, but one that would give Frodo and Sam their chance. She reached out and snatched the edge of Sam's cloak, dragging him close to hiss in his ear.
"Run," she ordered. Sam looked at her in bewildered confusion. Slowly, as Jaden began drawing her orc blade, a look of horrified understanding dawned in his face. "Run."
Before the little hobbit could stop her, Jaden lunged over into one of the larger orcs who was about her size and began shouting in a gravely voice that would have done her thespian friends proud.
"Keep your feet off of mine, you great slug!" she roared, trying to get a good hack in. The other orcs began crowding around, cheering for a fight as Jaden came to blows with the brutish orc she had assaulted. 'You could have picked a smaller one,' she thought to herself wryly as the creature bellowed and charged her. Glorfindel's lessons had never been more appreciated, and she soon gained the upper hand. Just as she moved to deliver the death stroke, the two slave-drivers broke through the crowd and separated the two combatants.
By the end of it all, Jaden had a bloody lip, a massive bruise on her left cheek and five stripes on her back, but she smiled through the blood in her mouth as she surveyed the ranks around her. Frodo and Sam had escaped.
A/N: Mwahahahahaha! And thus my hand is tipped. The next chapter will, I believe be focused on Leigh... Yeah, that's right. REVIEW! It makes me happy and sparks my muse. Say 'cool knight' if you have read my author's notes! Thanks!
