XXVIII - Two Little Acorns
By the time Legolas had fretted over the small scrapes on Mirren's arm, midday had swiftly passed. The two elves retreated further into the keep to repack their essentials for the onward journey. They both had a feeling that it would come sooner rather than later.
Trailing their way back to Gimli, Mirren couldn't deny the light blush that graced her fine features. She felt for certain that as long as Legolas kept looking at her the way he was now, it would stay there permanently…and she didn't really mind.
The Rohirrim mostly kept out of their way, but the weary glances they usually reserved for the two elves were less notable and Mirren was infinitely thankful for their absence. She held Legolas by the arm, gripping above his elbow as they walked in a companionable silence. For so long they had been privy to one another's thoughts, it felt so strange that the one feeling they had purposefully tried to hide from one another, was shared equally between them and could now be expressed openly.
For once, Mirren felt alive and the adrenaline from the battle of the Hornburg only equated for half of her emotions.
As they approached the causeway, a lone elf approached them and Legolas took his leave, smirking to himself as he wondered through the broken gates.
Already, the Rohirrim were rebuilding.
"My lady." Galdor bowed lowly as he met his Lord's daughter out of the way of the builders. The old ellon cast a weary glance towards the Prince who walked away from them, Mirren traced his gaze and smiled knowingly.
"It seems you will have more to tell my father than just my thanks for his beautiful gift when you return, Galdor."
The ellon smiled with tight lips. "I'm sure he will be…pleased for you."
Used to his restricted affections, Mirren smiled and took her stride up with his, following the ellon as he doubled back and retreated down the steps that they had fought to climb the night before.
For a moment the memory made Mirren wince, but as they reached the bottom, where they could clearly see the destroyed Deepling wall, her thoughts were distracted by a memory of flying through the air…a trail of beacons lighting the way before her.
"I came to tell you that I will return to Lothlorien with the remainders of Haldir's guard…. Someone must tell our kin of his bravery.. and afterwards I must escort the Lady Galadriel to the Havens."
"That seems wise my friend." Mirren smiled tightly, stooping to pluck an arrow from a felled orc. Pushing its carcass aside, a young face was revealed in the mud and the elleth had to turn away to stop the bile from rising in her throat, "Many died here….They shall not be forgotten."
Nodding with a grimace that mirrored hers, Galdor turned to the sea blue-eyed elleth once more.
"I found your blade amongst the rubble this morning, my lady." Gently, the ellon returned the bloodied twin-blade she had been missing, the wooden handle was a little cracked but otherwise it was unharmed by the explosion and Mirren couldn't help but grin at the familiar wait of it, even if the balance was not as it used to be.
"Many thanks, Galdor." She tipped the weapon on the edge of her finger for a moment and then caught it swiftly when it fell, walking on.
The cool wind protected them from the beating of the sun and thus the stench of death. Mirren was thankful for the cloak that still marked her out as a member of the Fellowship. Across the plains where the ranks of Uruk-hai had stood and chanted the evening before, only great grasses reached out as far as her elven eyes could see.
Pausing for a moment within the rubble of the destroyed wall, Mirren raised her eyebrows questioningly towards her companion, "Do you know when your company intends to leave?"
"Not until all is completed to recover the bodies of our fallen kin, my lady." Galdor sighed, following her gaze across the plains.
Mirren bowed her head, cursing the painful deaths of so many of her kin. She hadn't realised how insensitive she had come to the deaths of her own people. "Of course… When you return could you send my father thanks for his gift? Could you tell him that it probably saved my life.. And that his trusted friend most definitely did?"
Galdor finally smiled warmly at her, thankful for the change in conversation and bowed his head,
"It would be my honour."
Mirroring his action, the elleth raised her hand to her heart, "Whenever you leave, my friend, I fear it will be too soon…" She paused not knowing exactly how to continue. "Although the age of our people is fading, something within me still believes we need to fight to protect what we have enjoyed for so many years… A peaceful and free land."
The elleth's eyes flashed silver as they looked past the elf beside her.
"I can offer no more than the strength you already provide for the world of men, my lady." Galdor advised, "If there was one thing you have always thrived at, it is understanding. And it is the understanding of man's ultimate pain that brings you closer to their aims and delivers you pride when they succeed. If your father gave you nothing as a child…at least his treatment gave you that."
Seeing the elleth retreat into her mind, thought overcoming her features, Galdor bowed before he turned to take his leave.
"I wish you well, Daughter of the Sea."
Stopping the golden haired elf before he could make a successful exit, Mirren reached to grab his green cloak firmly.
"We will meet again, Galdor... If this is not the end." She told him wisely.
"I will look forward to it, my lady….As I'm sure your father does too."
Grateful for his words, Mirren smiled and bowed her head once more, but then Galdor was gone, retreating to help the elves of Lorien recover their dead and prepare for their return journey.
"That's because my axe was embedded in his nervous system!" Mirren heard Gimli's grunt as she rounded the corner. The elleth smiled at his the sound of his usual gruff sounding voice, but had to stop herself from rolling her eyes at his words.
Legolas was smirking at the dwarfs frustration and his face fell into a grin when he saw her approaching.
'If your done comparing sizes, I think the Gandalf wants to see us all." She nodded to the old wizard who was talking to Aragorn next to all of their horses. Smiling, she twisted her reunited twin blades back into her quiver and the elleth walked towards them with Gimli and Legolas trailing after her.
"Ah here you are!" The old wizard said upon their arrival. Mirren smiled and took Hausefel's reigns, passing a hand down his flank to sooth him. The Horse neighed quietly at her presence and nibbled the ties of her quiver affectionately.
"I take it we must ride on Isengard and see what has befallen the traitor?" Mirren asked, passing her palm over Hausfel's side once more.
Briefly, Gandalf nodded to her. "The King wishes to speak to Saruman… and I too feel there is much to learn from him."
It was not long before they were all mounted once more. Mirren happily took Hausfel, thanking Eomer again when he joined them on his mount, Firefoot, for the use of the noble horse. Legolas and Gimli shared Arod beside her and Aragorn rode Brego, who was undoubtedly as ragged as his rider (but no less kingly).
"Hausfel belonged to my friend, Gárulf, he was a wise man." Eomer told her as the company began to trot away from the Keep, "He would have been amazed to see him in the company of an elf."
"Amazed?" Mirren mused, thinking of the wary looks she had received from so many of the Rohirrim.
Eomer grinned mischievously, guessing her thoughts. "Surprised would be a better word, I think. Although I don't doubt he would have been pleased - Your beauty has not gone unnoticed by many of my men."
Mirren forced a rising blush away and merely smiled, "Well.. I think I would take surprised over disappointed any day."
Eomer nodded his head in agreement, looking once more to his uncle who was chatting lowly to Gandalf ahead of them.
Mirren shifted her eyes to Legolas next to her and found herself meeting Gimli's gaze instead. As soon as she looked at him, the dwarf looked away. The elleth found it odd but didn't have time to question it as they crested the hill and Gandalf addressed them all lowly,
"Sauron's wrath will be terrible, his retribution swift-"
In front of them lay Mordor. It was many leagues away but still Mirren could clearly see the flashing of lightening and could hear the distant rumblings of thunder as the darkening sky turned red over the heads of the distant mountains.
"-The battle for Helm's Deep is over. The battle for Middle-earth is about to begin."
Grimacing, Hausfel shuffled closer to Arod as Mirren adjusted her seat.
"The West will have to unite or the world of men will fall." She murmured, ignoring the steady glare of Théoden near her.
Aragorn looked towards the red horizon, grimly.
"All our hopes now lie with two small hobbits… But there is still many things we can do to help them." Gandalf concluded.
"We will ride on Isengard and confront the defeated wizard in his hold." Théoden told the small company, looking from Gamling to Gandalf. "…He has much to answer for."
Nodding, the riders followed the path of the King as he moved forward, away from the remains of Helm's Deep, and into the thriving Forest. Legolas and Mirren enjoyed the feeling of riding amongst trees once more, but the ellon did not miss the loud grumble of Gimli in front of him as Arod entered the wood.
Directing his gaze to the beautiful elleth beside him, a mischievous ghost of laughter flashed across her smooth features, a small smile Legolas knew was just for him.
Travelling through Fangorn again felt like a gift prepared just for her. Sunlight dappled through the trees, the air was warm and not stuffy, as stray leaves tumbled from their perches in soft winds to kiss her skin on their journey to the forest floor.
Their destination was not far and the troop moved swiftly, Gandalf trotted along first, somehow knowing his way through the restless wood. The rest of them travelled two horses abreast along the mud paths, Hausfel and Arod keeping close so that Mirren's knees sometimes bumped Legolas' as they moved.
Unlike their last journey through the forest, the trees were silent but for the gentle hiss of the wind through the leaves. Mirroring that quietness the group only murmured to each other, slipping in and out of conversation frequently.
As Legolas and Gimli discussed The Nauglamír or The Necklace of the Dwarves, which was made by Gimli's kin in Ered Luin in an age long past, Mirren's thoughts wandered and her eyes slipped further into the forest…
Until she was no longer looking at trees.
As the vision took her, the elleth was aware that Hausfel still plodded along steadily beneath her. But, the wood turned to towering rocks; jagged and harsh. And the sky overhead was no longer masked by hanging moss and pools of sunlight, but was grey and cloudy, threatening rain and something darker.
The air fell cold. It was as if all colour had been stripped from the world.
Something else tightened around her waist and, looking down, she saw Legolas' hands fisted in the horses reigns and felt the comfort of him behind her. Knowing that he was truly not there, she focused her mind on other things.
Looking up once more she could no longer see the cloaks of Aragorn and Eomer, only a door. A door shrouded in death.
In the vision, Hausfel snorted and nodded his head wearily as they approached it. Across the doorway into the mountain, carvings were scrawled in ancient script. Mirren felt the force and power in the words before she could read them.
The way is shut.
. . . . . . . .
Gasping, the world became hers again.
The sky above her brightened and resumed its haze of green. Gimli chuckled lowly beside her at something Legolas had said, and the woodland Prince glanced her way worriedly, sensing her discomfort.
Are you alright?He didn't have to speak to ask her.
Finding his hand, she squeezed it tightly and didn't let go.
"It's nothing." She murmured aloud, knowing Gimli's instant confusion at her words...It was just a dream.
The dwarf huffed at her and she dropped Legolas' palm reluctantly, forcing a blink to shake off the dream. The woodland Prince regarded her carefully and only looked away when she seemed occupied once more in listening to the gentle and unique melodies of the wood around them, accompanied by the usual loudness of the dwarfs voice and heavy breathing.
Sometime later, Gimli's thoughts turned to her.
"Lass… when we next get to severe some orcish heads, you must join our count. We shall have to find out who the best amongst us is… once and for all."
The elleth smiled briefly,
"That's a question I don't need answered, Gimli." She replied, a small smile lighting up her features as the dwarf pulled her further from the memory of her vision.
Legolas raised an eyebrow at her which she swiftly mirrored as the dwarf looked to her as if she had just insulted him.
"Conceding already?" The ellon asked mischievously.
"Maybe I'm just trying to save your pride."
Gimli dived into a deep laughter, pulling out his pipe as he tried to turn and see the bemused expression on Legolas' face.
"That's not how it works lass," Gimli objected, "We need witnesses…and a fair fight."
Mirren rolled her eyes, "I think I'll still leave you to your competitions, Gimli… One day, you'll get each other killed."
Before they could reply, the trees seemed to open up in front of them and Shadowfax slowed.
Focussing her attention once more on the road ahead, Mirren realised that she could sense a mass of running water nearby, and the thud of something moving slowly beneath the ground, as if giants were strutting deeper in the forest.
"The hobbits!" Legolas murmured in elvish beside her and…yes, the she-elf realised, listening intently, she could hear them-
"You've never done a hard days work, pip!" Merry retorted, rocketing Pippin into laughter that bought a smile to Mirren's face although she could not yet see them.
Eventually emerging from the wood, the company grinned at the sight of the two hobbits, perched like two little acorns atop a crumbling stone wall that marked the boundaries of Isengard. From where Merry and Pippin were sat they looked almost taller than she had left them, but no less innocent and foolhardy, she was sure.
Seeing their company, Merry raised his pint glass and stood.
"Welcome, my lords-
"-and Lady!" Pippin interrupted loudly, bowing deeply to Mirren who laughed at his theatrics,
"- to Isengard!"
"You young rascals!" Gimli shouted raising his fist at them like a begrudging parent, "A merry hunt you've led us on and now we find you feasting and… and smoking!"
Pippin joined his cousin, shaking his head, "We are sitting on a field of victory enjoying a few well earned comforts." The young hobbit took a bite from what seemed to be a large sandwich, "The salted pork is particularly good."
"Salted pork?" Gimli breathed as if he had just tempted him with a bright of jewels. Behind the dwarf, Legolas smirked, crossing his arms in front of him, although happy to see his companions safe.
"Hobbits!" Gandalf rolled his eyes.
Looking at them carefully, Mirren could see that they were clean, safe and unharmed and allowed a large grin to remain across her face.
"We're under orders from Treebeard who's taken over management of Isengard." Merry told the group.
"Well…would you mind breaking your orders to greet a few old friends? " She asked, elegantly dismounting Hausfel and stepping towards them.
As she approached, the two hobbits flung themselves into her arms and she squeezed them both happily. Behind her she heard Gandalf chuckle.
"For a long while, we thought we had lost you." She chided them, setting them down on the forest floor. "But I am most glad we have been reunited."
The two hobbits blushed under her gaze, mirroring her smiles as Aragorn rode forward to take Pippin onto his saddle.
Hoisting Merry onto Hausfel before her, the group of victors slowly moved into the ruins, following Gandalf and the King who had business with the traitorous wizard.
"How did you do this?" She asked the hobbits, seeing the flooded area and feeling the power and strength of the water beneath them.
"The Ents broke the dam and set the river free." Merry mumbled quietly.
"As it should always have been," Mirren mused, looking in wonder at the shattered debris of the dam and then the extraordinary tree-hearders who marched around Isengard restoring order.
From his seat in front of Aragorn beside them, Pippin saw the elleth's eyes grow hard as they glazed over the tower of Orthanc.
"Hoooom, young master Gandalf," An Ent, who Mirren could only assume was Treebeard approached them slowly, "I'm glad you've come. Wood and water, stock and stone I can master, but there is a Wizard to manage here locked in his tower."
Looking wearily at the looming dark tower in front of them, Aragorn spoke through gritted teeth, "Show yourself!"
"Be careful." Gandalf warned, "Even in defeat, Saruman is dangerous."
"Well then let's just have his head and be done with it!" Gimli suggested,
"No, we need him alive. We need him to talk."
As Gandalf spoke a lone figure appeared on top of the solitary tower, his once-white robes were ruined and dirty, defeat hung clearly on his face as well as malice.
"You have fought many wars and slain many men Théoden King and made peace afterwards." The defeated wizard began, looking down upon them, "Can we not take counsel together as we once did, my old friend?...Can we not have peace you and I?"
Mirren clenched her fists. How easy it is to ask for forgiveness after you have been defeated.. How easy you could forget what atrocities you have committed.
"We shall have peace." Théoden began fiercely, his eyes ablaze with pain and just anger. "We shall have peace when you answer for the burning of the Westfold and the children that lie dead there! We shall have peace when the lives of the soldiers whose bodies were hewn even as they lay dead against the gates of the Hornburg are avenged!... When you hang from a gibbet for the sport of your own crows… we shall have peace!"
"Gibbets and crows! Dotard!" Saruman spat, seeing no mercy in King Théoden's words. "And…What do you want Gandalf Grahame? Let me guess… the key of Orthanc? Or perhaps the keys of Barad Dur itself? Along with the crowns of the seven Kings and the rods of the Five Wizards!"
"Your treachery has already cost many lives. Thousands more are now at risk." Gandalf replied with ease, "But you could save them Saruman… You were deep in the enemy's counsel."
Saruman smiled viciously, "So you have come here for information… I have some for you."
A flash of pain struck through her mind as the wizard held up an orb in his left hand, the palantir flashing dangerously in the sun.
Dazed, the old wizard looked into and for a moment was lost. "Something festers in the heart of Middle Earth. Something that even the weak she-elf you keep in your company has failed to see…. But the great eye has seen it! Even now he presses his advantage. His attack will come soon!"
The pride in his voice made the elleth wince and Hausfel snorted, feeling her discomfort and making it his own.
Slowly, Gandalf rode forward, separating himself from the group. Hausfel took Shadowfax's place between Aragorn and Legolas, seeking comfort.
"You are all going to die!" Saruman continued, "…But you know this don't you Gandalf? You cannot think that this elleth will ever restore glory to the halls of her kin… or this Ranger will ever sit upon the throne of Gondor. This exile, crept from the shadows will never be crowned King!"
Mirren could feel the anger growing in her at his words, her nails dug crescent moons into her palms and Merry set a worried hand over them to soothe her. Aragorn merely glared at the wizard.
"Gandalf does not hesitate to sacrifice those who are closest to him… those he professes to love! Tell me, what words of comfort did you give the Halfling before you sent him to his doom? Surely, even your seer must know the path that you have set him on can only lead to death."
All of them now, were sick of his poisonous words.
"He is lying filth." Mirren spat out as even Merry's soothing grasp had turned firm with his own anger.
"I've heard enough!" Gimli shouted out, "Shoot him! Stick an arrow in his gob!"
Legolas was swift to reach for an arrow, his jaw tense.
"No!" Mithrandir protested, "Come down Saruman and your life will be spared!"
"Save your pity and your mercy." The fallen wizard growled, "I have no use for it!"
Suddenly, Saruman lashed out at Gandalf and a bolt of fire crashed down upon Mithrandir. For a moment, the breath was forced from Mirren's lungs and the horses jumped back, startled. But then, the fire faded and Gandalf stood as he had before, untouched.
"Saruman," He drawled, "Your staff is broken!"
The company could only watch, amazed, as Saruman's staff snapped in his hands, the pieces shattering around him.
Within the shock of his failure, the wizard did not notice the arrival of another figure joining him atop the Orthanc. Grima Wormtounge looked as pasty and as pale as he had when he had run from Edoras. His hunched stature marked him as a broken man; crushed by his own poor choices.
"Grima!" Théoden called out to him, "You need not follow him! You were not always as you are now… You were once a man of Rohan. Come down."
From the ground Mirren could see fear flash in the man's eyes and thought that he would accept Théoden's offer and remove himself from Saruman's care.
"A man of Rohan?" Saruman sneered, before the man had made his choice, "What is the house of Rohan but a thatched barn where brigands drink in the reek and their brats roll on the floor with the dogs?..." Behind her Eomer growled lowly in defense of his people, "The victory at Helms Deep does not belong to you Théoden Horse Master... You are a lesser son of greater sires!"
"Grima!" Théoden shouted once more, ignoring the wizards vile words, "Come down! Be free of him!"
"Free? He will never be free!" Saruman cried,
Snapping, Grima charged towards his master,
gasping aloud, "No!"
"Get down cur!" Viciously, the pale man was struck hard enough by the back of the wizards hand that he was slapped to the black stone beneath him.
His cry of pain was masked by Gandalf who tried to address Saruman once more,
"Saruman! You were deep in the enemy's counsel. Tell us what you know!"
The man draped in dirty white robes turned at Gandalf's demand, smiling cruelly, "You withdraw your guard and I will tell you where your doom will be decided…. I will not be held prisoner here!"
Mirren caught a glimpse of the hunched man, rising like a shadow behind the wizard, but did not have time to cry aloud as Grima fisted a knife in his hand and dived it fiercely into the back of the wizard.
In a flash, Legolas drew back his bow and his aim was true. The green fletched arrow embedded itself in Grima's heart and he fell like a limb stone to the floor…but it was too late.
Loosing his breath painfully, Saruman gasped, turning to accuse his attacker before he fell heavily, flipping head over hills over the side of the tower, towards the water below. Before he hit the great spiked wheel, Mirren closed her eyes and lifted her palms to Merry's before her. Despite her actions, nothing could mask the thud of his broken body as it was impaled in front of them.
Gandalf cursed under his breath as the wheel began to turn and Saruman's body was submerged by the water he had polluted.
"We must send word to all our allies and to every corner of Middle Earth that still stands free… The enemy moves against us. We need to know where he will strike!" He ordered, beginning to turn from the tower.
Something in his words caught Mirren's attention. Questioningly, she called out to the wizard who paused at the low sound of her voice.
"Mithrandir… Is it not obvious he will attack Gondor? Men's strength is failing and their cities stand weak... I have seen it."
"What have you seen?" He asked, riding towards her,
Mirren glanced wearily towards the King and then to Legolas who stiffly nodded, "….The White City burning."
Worry was lit anew in Gandalf's eyes and his eyebrows dragged together in concern,
"The filth of Saruman is washing away. Trees will come back to live here." Treebeard spoke from the foot of the tower distracting Mirren from the wizard, "..Young trees. Wild trees."
While the ent's words held a lovely sentiment, Mirren's memories replayed the visions she had seen in Lothlorien of white rock crumbling and again, exhausted in Helm's Deep; visions of The White city falling and beacons calling for aid. Her heart thumbed heavily in her chest and her eyes sought out Legolas', who was near, a silent and comforting sentinel for her, always.
"Pippin!" Aragorn snapped, diverting her attention once more. Pippin had dismounted Brego and was wading slowly through the water.
Ducking his hands into the filth of Isengard he removed the glowing Palantir and held it aloft, his gaze completely taken by its power for many moments.
"Bless my bark!" Treebeard breathed, and Mirren muttered an elvish curse underneath her breath, wincing at the stabbing pain that rattled through her head at it's presence.
"Peregrin Took!" Gandalf called, "I'll take that my lad! Quickly now!"
The wizard snatched the tool from the Hobbit's hands, careful not to touch it, knowing it's dangers and willfully avoiding them.
As Gandalf wrapped it in his cloak, Pippin looked sheepishly back up at him, watching intently as Gandalf moved away.
"Come, Pippin." Aragorn called as Théoden followed Gandalf once more back towards the crumbling walls of Isengard. Eomer and Gamling fell behind him as the ranger pulled Pippin once more onto his saddle with ease and trotted after the pair. Legolas and Mirren brought up the rear, casting a jaded look back towards the tower as they went.
They paused a little longer at the sight of Saruman's ruin. Mirren found a store of apples and tossed them to Legolas, Gimli and Aragorn who savored their taste and stored some in their packs. Merry showed Gimli the salted pork and the return journey was much pleasanter than their arrival with the light chattering of the Hobbits and the ease of smiles of their full-bellied troop.
But Saruman's vile words were not lost on them as they travelled through the wood and it was past sundown when they arrived back at Helm's Deep.
A/N: And soooo book 3/ FIlm 3 begins! We're on the final stretch my friends! Stay tuned for more and don't forget to review! Love to you all :D Stay Safe!