Hi everyone! Hope you're all well. Thanks again for all the reviews and follows. I wanted to quickly address Helm's Deep - That portion of the story was a pivotal moment for our characters which is why I've included it here. This story then goes on its own route so don't be discouraged in thinking that this will follow LOTR ROTK. I assure you I have plenty of my own ideas! Anyway I hope you enjoy this next part. I haven't had the time I'd like to edit more so this chapter is a little shorter than I intended. As always much love! xoxo
Theoden paced the meeting room. He was both physically and mentally exhausted. War had a way of stripping even the most experienced soldiers of their spirit. He was well beyond tired. The pacing kept him awake, kept him mobile. As long as he put one foot in front of the other he could keep going. Just a while longer, he told himself, just a little while longer.
For a moment he came to rest, leaning heavily against his high back chair. His hands gripped the wood tightly for support. Their small council had convened here nearly an hour ago. Its occupants were all tense and anxious. Their world was quickly turning exponentially more complex. Gods, aliens, space travel...they were hilariously out matched. Concepts he could barely fathom were staring him straight in the face and as unbelievable as they were it was all real...it was all true.
The royal house of Rohan had kept its secrets well and for many years. He'd never asked Wulfric for extensive details of his history. He had simply done as his forefathers before him had done. He'd trusted Wulfric to guard their lands and train his successor in exchange for anonymity. Keeping Wulfric's secret had been made all the easier by Theoden's lack of curiosity. As a boy he'd been too intimidated by the man to ask but now, with Natasha in the mix, facets of the truths he'd been hiding had come to light. The people had heard. Worse yet, they'd seen exactly what Wulfric and Natasha were capable of and his people were right to be afraid.
Their conversation here tonight had been thorough and had ended mostly in agreement. The last of their topics had been subject to much debate.
"She's dangerous, Gandalf." Theoden argued back. "She's just as likely to kill us as she is our enemies. You didn't see…" He swallowed back his horror as the images from the battlefield popped fresh into his mind, "I didn't know such things were possible."
Gandalf blew out a particularly large smoke ring and sat forward in his chair. His elbows came to rest on the table. "She's manageable." He took another puff, "We have not done our part to earn her trust. She operates as she was trained. If you understand that you understand her. It's ingrained in her to push boundaries, to dig for information and attain the upper hand. She will do this by any means possible." He puffed again. "More importantly she will adapt to survive. You've seen for yourself her versatile and lethal behavior. It is precisely the reason Sauron wants her on his side. Natasha has power and leverage to get exactly what he wants. She has knowledge that very few on this planet possess. If we misstep again we could lose everything."
"Yet on the morrow you plan to take her to the wizard Saruman." Eomer added, "Is it wise to dangle her so close to enemy hands?"
"I'm keeping my word to her. I promised to retrieve Eric Selvig from the wizards tower and it's imperative to our cause that we do so." Gandalf leaned back in his chair with confidence. "This is her main priority." He considered the benefits of having Eric with them. "Eric knows her better than any of us. He stands with us and will undoubtedly be an asset in containing Miss Romanoff." Eric knew her in a clinical fashion. He knew her directives and capabilities, but he didn't know the woman. He wondered briefly if anyone did.
"With that being said." Eowyn cut in. She'd been surprised to even be invited to the meeting. Before her uncle had been mentally corrupted, he'd never been enthusiastic about her opinions and reasonings, but that was before she'd kept their kingdom running without him, "Grima has already propositioned her on behalf of the wizard. She denied them then. She will deny them again." Nat had been kind to her. Protected her. She'd been honest and had treated her with respect. Even when all seemed lost during the battle, Nat had sent her best weapon to Eowyn in an attempt to keep her and her people safe. Eowyn had seen the goodness in her.
Gimli banged the table in support, "Hear, hear!"
"She's a highly trained assassin Eowyn...do not be so easily fooled." Her uncle's comment stung her pride.
"Your personal experience gives you right to make such a judgement…" Eowyn weighed in heavily to defend Nat. The woman had done more for their country than most Kings during their entire reign. "But…she is with us. As horrified as you are by what she accomplished on the battlefield you must remember that what she did, she did for us. For our people. Even after she protected me while you were under Saruman influence and Eomer was banished, after she killed thousands in our defense, after she sent me her own weapons in the cave to defend our women and children. Still you question her motives? There is goodness in her, Uncle." She looked to Gandalf to confirm her notions.
Gandalf pushed up from his chair and stood to his full height. The whites of his robes flashed with unearthly power. He addressed the room elves, dwarves, and men alike. "Their world is vastly different from ours. Eric and I spoke in great length upon the tower of Orthanc. The alliance they both previously worked for privileged Eric with redacted information about her, and others that would be working closely to protect the scepter. She was their government's number one asset for over a decade. She's highly specialized. She speaks over a dozen languages, is an expert in hand to hand combat, weapons training, infiltration, espionage. She has single handedly taken down entire governments overnight. These were just a few of the things he was allowed to know about her but...he trusts her." He took a long puff of his pipe, "and so do I."
Wulfric weighed in with a shake of his head, "If she had wanted to kill me, she would have pulled her weapon." No, she hadn't wanted to kill him. She'd wanted to see if she could hurt him and she had. She'd exposed his secret, dropped an emotional bomb and followed it up with a physical punch to the face. He hadn't expected her to be so aggressive. He'd known she was angry. She had telegraphed that loud and clear. Part of him had to admire her. Knowing what he was she had still taken him down. "She was making a point and she made it loud and clear. We were wrong...I was wrong in keeping vital information from her." She would not be kept in the dark and she wouldn't be used. Not by them...Not by anyone. What she chose to do, she would do of her own free will and not even he could stand in her way.
"You've decided then?" Theoden put forth, looking to each of the members of the table. This was beyond the mind of a single King of a simple country. This matter concerned them all. The choices they made here would affect every creature from every walk of life.
Their newest member sat in stunned silence but showed nothing on his ageless face. The entire situation was beyond him. He was reeling, overloaded, with information that despite its obscure nature fit the woman they discussed.
Theoden took their collective silence for agreement. "We make for Isengard in the morning. Retrieve Dr. Selvig. If our luck holds, he will have successfully destroyed the scepter." He picked up his wine and took a heavy drink. By the gods he couldn't believe they were doing this. "If not, we entrust it to Miss Romanoff with the hope that she will successfully destroy the blasted thing."
"Correspondence will need to be made with Lord Elrond and Lady Galadriel. They may yet have some insight on our situation. Some resource that remains untapped." Gandalf insisted. Their resources and contacts were as endless as their long lives.
Haldir responded. "I've commissioned a small party to prepare our borders and healers for our return. They leave at dawn. Prepare your missive, we shall carry it safely to the hands of the Lady of Lothlorien herself."
Theoden looked pointedly at Wulfric, "If at any point she goes rogue you'll be the one that has to hunt her down. You're the only one that can."
Wulfric swallowed hard, "Let's hope it doesn't come to that."
Theoden held Haldir's loaded gaze. His ageless face impassive.
Everyone murmured their affirmations.
"So be it." Theoden deemed.
The rhythmic echo of a soft snore woke Nat hours before dawn. Rolling her head to the side she was met with the haphazard site of Berta's ruddy face. Sitting up she rubbed the dull ache out of her sore hip. After her bath last night, she'd located her pack she'd sent with Eowyn. Without permanent accommodations she'd wandered into the kitchens to hunker down with the one friend she knew she had. A night's rest on a few sacks of flour and grain had been all Berta had to offer, but offer she had. Berta was always willing to share what little she had. They'd sat up for most of the night with a bottle of whiskey between the two of them. The hard alcohol had warmed her bones and relaxed her body. The company had comforted her soul and eased her mind.
Laughing Nat took another swig of whiskey. Berta was well on her way to being well and truly drunk. The past few days had been stressful to say the least. Nat leaned back against a sack of grain as Berta continued telling her the tale of how she'd met her husband. How she'd visited the bakery every day and fallen for his sweet rolls before she'd even met him in person.
"I'm tellin ya lass, a man that pays that kinda mind to a bread roll knows what he's doin with his hands." Berta actually gave a small gurgling giggle. "He had good hands, he did." Nat passed her the bottle. Berta took a long draw and hiccuped. Her eyes watered with the memories. The loss of her husband had broken her heart, but Berta was a sturdy woman; she wouldn't let it crush her spirit. Her husband wouldn't have wanted that and neither did she.
"You need yourself a man Nat...and some babies." She took another swig. "You'd have such beautiful babies. Look at ya! I bet ya could snag a handsome one...some fancy lord to take care of ya and give ya beautiful babies and pretty dresses." Berta's eyes watered even more as full on tears formed. "...and your beautiful babies would have pretty dresses." Her tears let loose and she sniffled and swiped at her eyes with the back of her hands. "...and shoes...I bet ya they'd have pretty shoes." Berta took another long drink and attempted to drunkenly look Nat in the eyes. She pointed her finger at her and wobbled precariously on her grain sack.
"Don't go wastin' your youth and good looks on making war." Berta passed the bottle back to Nat. Nat toasted her and took another sip. Would she ever settle down with a man? Nat wondered. She couldn't imagine one in this world that would be willing to marry a woman that couldn't have children. That right had been taken from her at a young age.
Their bottle was nearly empty.
"I'm older than you are Berta…" She took another swig. "I'll be eighty-seven in the fall. Youth and I parted ways a long time ago."
Berta's eyes rolled and went wide. She fell back against the grain sack behind her in disbelief, "I hope I look like you at eighty." Her eyes began to fall closed and she mumbled something vaguely about elves. Berta was already snoring by the time Nat closed her eyes.
She slipped out quietly and snagged an empty grain sack as she went through the kitchen entrance. With a light hand she brushed the flour that had crept out of the sacks and found its way onto her trousers. A dull ache shadowed down her side as she bent but to an extent her body had healed while she slept. Even her upper arm felt solid. Her enhanced muscle fibers were nearly completely woven back together. Of all the terrible things the Red Room had done to her this quality was the only one she was thankful for.
The halls were quiet and dark. The light of dawn had yet to make its appearance. She emerged into the great hall. Torches lined the walls, still a flame to light her way. Exiting through the heavy doors she set herself upon the stairs. From here she could see movement from all across the Keep. When the time came Gandalf would be easy to spot from this location.
With untold amounts of time to kill she unshouldered her pack and set it aside. Pulling her gun from her thigh she went about disassembling it for cleaning. With nimble fingers she carefully dismantled the power case then came the trigger assembly and the bio grip. Using a scrap of cloth, she'd snagged from Berta's pub she carefully cleaned each part before returning it to its original location on the framework of the gun. Traditional weapons were much easier to clean and care for. These high-tech guns were the newest Stark Tech on the market and experimental military grade. Nat's thoughts went to her widow bites, saddened by their loss. She'd liked them immensely. Handy little things.
Her gaze landed on the battlefield. The smoking piles of bodies were still smoldering. The inner walls had been cleared of bodies. The funeral pyres had burned hot and thoroughly during the night. All that remained of their comrades were heaping mounds of ash. The air still held the sharp scent of blood and smoke. She breathed it in. Regardless of the planet this was always the same.
She snapped the power pack into her weapon and holstered it.
The soft shuffle of light footsteps approached from her back. She could just make out the rustle of long fabric...a dress no doubt. Nat didn't turn to greet Eowyn or acknowledge her. Her anger had subsided. Let them keep their secrets. She had enough of her own. Nat had come to terms with the situation. A new planet didn't mean its people were any different.
Eowyn sat down beside her on the stairs and quietly arranged her dress around her knees. She produced two things out of the folds of her skirts; the gun Nat had given her and two crisp looking apples. Without words she handed them over to Nat. Grateful for the return of the weapon and the distraction she set the apple beside her on the stone stairs and began disassembling the other weapon.
"I would offer an apology if I thought I owed it to you." Eowyn said, taking a bite from her own apple. Carefully she watched Nat's hands as she worked. "We all did what we thought was best. Times are perilous and knowing who to trust is more vital than ever." A gust of cold wind whirled around them swirling dust and ash across the stone.
Eowyn wrapped her cloak a little tighter around herself and drew her arms up tightly.
"I've made a decision, against the better judgement of my King and brother. One, that given the circumstances could put us all in danger." She took another bite and fiddled with her apple as she chewed. Her eyes still honed on Nat's hands. She had yet to look up from her work. "You've treated me fairly and with a tremendous amount of honesty and respect." Eowyn cleared her throat before she continued. "A meeting was held late last evening. We spoke of many things...including you." Nat looked up at that and met Eowyn's steady gaze as she continued to speak. Eowyn went on about what she knew of Aragorn, Legolas, Gimli and Gandalf and the rest of the fellowship that had set out from Rivendell to destroy a ring. She told her of the hobbit, Frodo, who had volunteered to carry the ring all the way to Mount Doom to destroy it. She went on and on, even to tell her that they had reason to believe that Sauron wanted Nat to travel between worlds to help him conquer this world and then the next. Eowyn spoke of their fears that she would be convinced to do so if indeed Saruman could send her back to her home. Eowyn told her about Wulfric's assignment. She spoke until the dawn came and both women had finished their apples.
In companionable silence the pair sat for long moments.
"I'm choosing to trust you." Eowyn spoke with finality. She had made up her mind unquestionably. There had been no doubt in her words. She wanted to believe in Natalie and the good she'd seen her do. She wanted to believe in the woman who'd risked her life to save her kinsman.
Nat contemplated her words. "You shouldn't." She said softly, "I don't even trust myself." She shook her head in denial. Since she'd broken from Soviet control she'd struggled with her own life. Her instincts were so deeply ingrained she often struggled to override them. For so long she'd wanted to be better, to be more. She wanted to be the awesome aunt Clint and Laura's children thought she was. Could she? Could she be the woman Eowyn also saw in her?
"You're braver than you look Eowyn."
Eowyn tossed her an amused warm smile, "You're a better woman than you'd have most of us believe." Although she couldn't see it, Eowyn knew she must be struggling. She couldn't imagine the things Natalie was going through, had gone through, and what she had seen. Her behaviors indicated that she was used to an entirely different level of freedom and independence. She was a complex woman with a wide range of unusual behaviors that at times tended to contradict themselves. Here was a woman who selflessly put the lives of others, even strangers, above her own and then recklessly endangered her own life as if no one cared if she lived or died. Surely somewhere this woman had family or friends that cared for her. Eowyn certainly cared and she knew Gimli did as well.
Just then the first few members of the party traveling to Isengard emerged from the stables beneath the hall.
"You should go." Eowyn said, "I asked the stable hands to prepare my horse for you." She pointed to the long-legged grey standing quietly at the stable boy's side. Eowyn stood and offered Nat her hand. Without hesitation Nat took a firm hold of it. Such a simple gesture that meant so much more to them both. "I hope she bares you good fortune." Whatever that may be, Eowyn thought and released her hand.
She let her friend go watching as she wordlessly turned and headed down the stairs.
Eowyn watched her as she approached her beloved mount. The sweet mare nuzzled Natalie's outstretched hand and stood quietly as she mounted. Dressed in nearly all gray and dark black Natalie's fiery hair flared like a beacon in the dull morning light. Eyes were naturally drawn to her. In the same breath she was difficult to look at. Her intensity could easily overwhelm a lesser person. She carried her confidence in her shoulders and spine, elegant, strong, and sure. Her beauty was enough to make any woman envious. Alluring, Eowyn thought in summation. If she could put a word to it, that's what it would be. Another glint of red caught her eye, the March Wardens cape flickered in the gusting winds. His glacial gaze watching Nat intently. She recalled his incredibly passive expression during their meeting. He'd given nothing away as to his thoughts but Eowyn knew that still waters often ran deep. It would seem that Natalie had garnered far more attention than she'd ever intended.