Chapter 32: Serial Escalation
Dutiful despite the plain confusion on her countenance, Éowyn went and drew water from the well, bringing it in a bucket filled to the brim. "I've done as you told..." The noblewoman said, "But… what am I supposed to do with this?"
Now for the hard part.
"All in good time." H'aerindu said, "Go sit down somewhere under the sun, and I'll explain."
Éowyn frowned, though she nevertheless complied.
"Now to answer your question." She then started, after the noblewoman was seated, "I must first touch upon the subject of aether. To put it plainly, aether is energy itself. It's no exaggeration to say that it's the source of all life and magic."
The noblewoman blinked, "So you're going to teach me to use magic?"
"I'm going to teach you how we Eorzeans fight." H'aerindu clarified it to her, "Unfortunately, however, as shown by the example of your fellow man, your kind has proven less than adequate where awareness of one's own aether is concerned. The goal here therefore is to do something about it."
"How?"
"To begin with, by having you watch your reflection like you intend to see into your very own soul."
Éowyn did just that after nodding, or at least she tried to as her frown creased, "Um… what am I looking for here?"
"A faint aura exuding from your body."
"I'm not seeing anything like that…"
H'aerindu suppressed the urge to huff in amusement, "If it was that quick and easy to get results, we wouldn't need to do this. Just make sure to empty your mind of all distracting thoughts, and focus. You'll get it right eventually."
"I see… but is this even necessary?"
"Yes, for if you cannot do this… then there's little I can teach you."
Éowyn nodded, becoming very quiet as she returned her attention to the bucket she now moved to stand between her legs so she could more easily lean over it. Which left H'aerindu to sit down on the nearby boulder to do training of her own, by way of circulating a large amount of aether around her body.
Starting with the opening of her chakras.
H'aerindu let go a breath as she closed her eyes, about to open the first when someone shouted from the edge of the courtyard.
"Hey!"
She stopped, wondering if it was directed at her.
"Hey, you there!"
Now the voice was much closer, audibly approaching her. H'aerindu opened her eyes, coming to stare at a bear of a man in full armor, who was red at the face. "Do you have some business with me?" She asked, almost irritably.
"What the hell is this?" The man bit, gesturing to Éowyn,
"Training, of course."
"Don't mess with me!"
"Oh, I'm not." She denied.
"You're not?" The seething man echoed, growling, "Then would you mind explaining how this nonsense is supposed to make her improve?"
"Of course..." H'aerindu said, when an idea came to mind, "For the sake of argument; can you cleave this boulder with your sword if you tried?"
To him it seemed like she was going horribly off-tangent, and his face reddened beyond what she thought was possible. Nevertheless, to his credit, he took a moment to seriously consider the question. "Of course I can not." He finally said, "At worst it would see my sword broken."
"Which is a perfectly logical conclusion to make, under normal circumstances." The miqo'te kept her voice even, "One that becomes nigh-irrelevant if you obtain just the right aptitude in controlling the energy that courses through your body, to the extent of using it to empower yourself, and consequently your weapon."
This was met by a collective stare from the men.
It was easy to see that their leader of indiscernible rank was intrigued, though he coughed and tried to act dismissive, "What a load of baloney. Do you have any proof, woman, that such a thing is even possible?"
Her smile widened a little, "Here, allow me to demonstrate."
OoOoO
Éowyn's interest piqued at that point, for while the feats described in her recollections were incredible to behold – which was the reason she was willing to abide this strange lesson – she had yet to actually see what her temporary tutor could do with her own eyes. So she sat up, and observed raptly as the miqo'te slid herself off the boulder.
Coming to stand next to it instead, ere she acted.
Turning to the boulder, H'aerindu placed a hand on its rough surface, as if aiming to push it. The men all near scoffed at the idea, aware of this fixture that has persisted over the generations due to it reaching deep into the earth, only to freeze in place when she let out a sharp 'Hah!' and pushed. Causing not the boulder to move, but for countless cracks to sprout, and spread across its breadth.
Then, as if this was not enough…
When she withdrew her palm, she left a deep hand-shaped indentation in the rock.
"Is this enough proof for you?" H'aerindu asked.
The red in the man's face had drained away, "Y-yes, perfectly…"
With a nod she walked past him.
"See that?" H'aerindu addressed her, "With sufficient control over the energy coursing through your body, you can make yourself stronger than you've ever been. I cannot promise equal results, but I can guarantee you'll be stronger than you'd otherwise be."
"Do you understand?" She added.
"I do." Éowyn, excited by what she had beheld, inclined her head, and she returned her attention to her reflection. Then took a deep breath while the miqo'te watched her, before she looked deeply into it, emptying her thoughts in the process of all that could interfere.
Hoping to see…
No.
Éowyn threw that hope away, along with every notion of haste and worry, to make her thoughts completely transparent.
Staring into the bucket til the water seemed to expand to fill her entire worldview – whereupon she suddenly found the smallest of glimmer, that vanished as soon as it appeared. The blonde had no idea whether this was aether she just perceived, but it lent confirmation that she was on the right track, propelling her to continue observing.
Sooner or later, the spring would come.
OoOoO
Osgiliath was lost.
Faramir used to imagine that in such an eventuality he would find himself making the most difficult choice of his life, to abandon the city Gondor fought so hard to retake and hold. Only for it to be remarkably easy when the swarm of dragons crossed the river like a squall of fangs, and claws. Dead set on bloodying the defenders.
Unhesitatingly, he ordered the retreat.
Soon after becoming part of the hastily erected rearguard, fighting for every inch of ground to buy the rest time to evacuate.
"Captain, behind you!"
Faramir had only just fended off a serpent creature sporting wings, when a larger and more powerful creature launched itself from a nearby rooftop, opening its giant maw against which he did not even flinch.
Fearing that his men would suffer more.
Instead what he did was turn around, and with bow in hand launched an arrow into its maw.
The creature drew itself back, shrieking in pain as it took to the sky. It was no fatal blow, so it might just recover, much to his chagrin. "My thanks, Damrod!" Faramir said, earnest in his gratitude for the quick warning.
Damrod nodded, hurriedly cleaning his bloodied sword with a cloth, "Pray, don't mention it."
"Up above!" Someone out of sight shouted.
Faramir looked up to find one of the larger red dragons swooping down toward them, too fast to be considering the idea of landing – which could mean only one thing if the old stories spoke true. "Scatter!" He shouted atop of his lungs, "Scatter every—!"
With only seconds of warning, he soon had no choice but to follow his own order.
Throwing himself into a nearby entrance as the dragon swept past overhead, dousing the street in fire of unknown properties that melted steel, and turned men into crying torches that could only thrash until rendered into ash. Faramir listened to the screams, and knew he would not forget those horrible animal cries for as long as he lived.
Resisting the urge to vomit, he was about to extricate himself from the doorway, when the masonry above collapsed, forcing him to retreat further in to prevent from getting crushed under several tons of rock and stone.
When it passed, he found that he had been sealed inside.
"Captain!" He heard Damrod shout, "Captain, can you hear me?!"
Faramir brushed off the gravel and dust, stumbling onto his feet, "I'm fine, Damrod!"
"Good!" Damrod sounded relieved, "Hold on, we'll have you out of there soon!"
"Don't even think about it!"
"Captain?"
Faramir looked around the building he was in, his eyes aided by what little light there was, and found stairs that led down. One of the entry points to the city's underground sewers. It was a stroke of luck on his part. "Take the men, and fall back to Minas Tirith." He shouted, "I'll find my own way out!"
"B-but, Captain!"
"That's an order, Damrod, now go!"
Damrod's reluctance was clear to hear as he responded, "Understood. You best make it, then, for we will need you to weather this storm."
"I'll do so."
Faramir remained for a little longer, listening as the shouts and sounds of combat drifted away. Leaving him to exhale in relief for small mercies before he followed down the stairs, where he indeed found the sewers. The stench of which was positively vile, though it was much less troublesome than the complete absence of light, forcing him to navigate by placing a hand on the wall, and following it.
All while trying to block out the clamor of continued battle.
Instead drifting into old memories of when he fought alongside his brother.
They had to at one point hold the last bridge, so it could be demolished. Faramir remembered it very clearly, and even more so how cold the water was when they had to swim across the river after the bridge was destroyed.
I wonder how he's doing right now…
Could our situation have been different had Boromir been here with us?
Such thoughts were quickly dispelled, as while his big brother was a greater leader of men than him, he was by no means a miracle worker. Against such odds as these, he too would have ordered a retreat to preserve their troops. Faramir nodded to himself, satisfied with his conclusion, and continued to trod on in search for another exit until he found himself in a large open room, or what came across as one down here.
"Hrm…" The man frowned.
Not without reason, as the all-consuming dark turned deeper still, causing him to break out in cold sweat.
He shook it off.
The dark has been his steadfast ally for all of the countless ventures he and his rangers undertook past the borders to strike down the enemies of Gondor, so it was ludicrous for him to feel afraid of it now of all times.
So he pressed forward.
When the pitch black suddenly came alive, and enveloped him.
Faramir had only just enough time to blurt out his confusion, and remembered no more.
OoOoO
Miana was depressed, there was no way around it after what happened back in Moria. Two of their comrades' disappearance into the bottomless chasm beneath Durin's bridge had been reported on by witnesses till there was no choice but to believe it did happen. H'aerindu and Aauron had, in pursuit of the demon, leaped head-first into it.
Dismayed, she had contemplated jumping down herself.
Until dissuaded from it by Gimli, who had pulled her away, reminding her of far more pressing priorities.
Such as helping the horse masters make their retreat. Except, after that was done, it was no longer possible to do anything beside fleeing as armies of orcs, despite their collective bruising, followed them to the surface. With the horse masters well on their way to abandoning the region wholesale, they could only take their chocobos – following suit.
Not in the same direction, but it was all the same.
"Cheer up, Miana." Augustus said, though his tone was solemn, "We know not whether they are still down there. For all we know they might have already used a return spell, knowing they wouldn't get back to us in time."
"Return spell?"
The one who asked was Théodred, who had decided to go with them.
His stated reason being similar to theirs.
"It is magic used to relocate oneself to the last aetheryte you attuned yourself to."
"That sounds very useful."
"Except you can't use it while on the move, or if you're busy. Anyway, my point is, recriminations can wait until we find out more."
Miana nodded, tightening the hold on her reigns, though she had an inclination to feel bad. Even if some of her reasons were… rather selfish, truth be told. She proceeded to zone out the remainder of the conversation until they arrived at the elven outpost, where they dismounted in preparation for their departure.
"Finally." Théodred said, leaving his horse, "Now I can go and report to my father, about our… regretful failure."
Boromir frowned, "You sound like you have resigned yourself to punishment."
"As I deserve, regardless of how I feel."
"Part of the blame lies with your fool King, so I say he shouldn't be hard on you. The whole venture was a lost errand." The man shook his head, "Ask anyone who know even a little about that blighted place, and they'd agree."
"Indeed." Gimly agreed.
"My thanks, but all the same it lies with me also." Théodred said, marching up to the towering aetheryte and gazing up at it, "That said, I'll be taking my leave of you now. Until we meet again, hopefully with your missing comrades alongside, farewell!"
The prince left momentarily, leaving only what would come next.
"Ah, ah, ah." Still Water yawned, "I could use some booze right about now."
Not that.
"Why am I not surprised…" Miana drawled, her patience at an end, "Can we go now?"
Augustus was about to reply in confirmation, while Gimli remarked to the roegadyn about the goodness that was malt beer – especially when combined with roast meat, when a green-hooded elf hurried up to them. "Pardon me." He started, "Are you of the Fellowship of the Ring?"
The midlander raised a brow at him, "Rather diminished right now, but yes."
"I have a message for you from the White Council." The elf said tersely, without preamble, "You are to make for Edoras, in Rohan, at once."
"Does it mention why?"
"Two of your compatriots awaits you there."
Upon hearing this, she snapped up like she had been asleep until then, "H'aerindu is alive?!"
The elf's eyes widened at her outburst, as if he was surprised that so loud a voice could come from someone this small, although he swiftly recovered; "Yes."
Miana stared at him like he had grown a second, third, and fourth head, ere her shoulders sagged, and she let go of the breath she didn't notice she was holding; releasing a dramatic sigh. It looked like her concerns were somewhat premature, but the worst case scenario had been haunting her ever since they left those blasted mines behind.
At last able to push such thoughts aside, she pepped herself up quick-like.
"Well then, you lot!" Miana bounced on her feet, almost radiant, "What are we waiting for?!"
A beat passed.
The midlander sighed, turning back to the elf, "Thank you for the message. Let the senders know we've received it, and complied momentarily."
"Understood."
Taking that as her cue, Miana proceeded to pass through the aetheryte, replacing the quiet outpost with hustle and bustle of a crowded plaza, where she were inclined to pause and bathe in the natural chaos of a civilian setting – savoring it as the others came on through one after another. Last to which was Still Water, who looked around, and scoffed.
"What a boring-looking place this is."
Boromir shook his head, "It only goes to show, Still Water, that these people prefer function to ostentatious display."
"All I'm saying they should put some damned pride into it."
With all of that said they proceeded on through the following market place, with Miana herself very much in the lead as she threatened to go on ahead without them. About to ask around when Aauron showed up, landing on some roof up ahead.
Causing more than a few locals to yell in surprise.
"Oi!" Miana waved up at the dragoon, "Where is she?"
Silence.
It did not seem like he was very talkative at the moment.
For all he did for a response was pointing up the mountain road. Presumably to the place where they can find her. "Smooth." Augustus half-chastised her, "Couldn't you have asked at the least if he was alright?"
"If he's jumping around like that, he's fine!"
Miana shrugged, following the path where it came to be apparent that no asking around would be necessary. For that the grapevine lay so thick about some 'odd gathering' in public discourse that they had but to follow the gossip.
Until they came to a courtyard, where they were met by the cause of it.
The lalafell drank in the sight of several dozen people scattered throughout the place, all of them peering blankly into each their bucket. It was just some muttering away from looking like some dark ritual was going on. Miana swept such thoughts aside, however, when she looked to where they all faced.
A half-destroyed boulder, atop of which the chosen sat in a cross-legged meditative posture.
Miana ran up to the boulder, "H'aerindu!"
H'aerindu blinked as she looked at them, her countenance softening, "Miana, everyone! Thank goodness you're all well!"
"H-hey, those ought to be our words!"
"Indeed." Augustus joined in, "Considering what you did back there."
Miana followed up; "Do you have any idea how worried we were?!"
"Ah, y-yeah, my bad." H'aerindu replied, having the grace to look a bit sheepish, "All of it happened so fast, so we didn't have the time to do aught else…"
"I suppose that's fine." Augustus sighed, "Now with that out of the way…"
"Yes?"
"What's with all these people?"
"Did you go and start a cult out of boredom, or something?" Still Water added to the question.
"Not at all, I'll have you know!" H'aerindu said to the giant buffoon, before sighing and turning back to Augustus, "It all came from a bit of funny business. Had an incident, you see, during mine and Gandalf's visit to the King, that resulted in me given the task of tutoring his niece over yonder. But as you can see, this escalated since to include this whole crowd."
"I see." There was a gleam in Augustus' eye, "Out of curiosity, what is it you're tutoring them in?"
"Aether manipulation, starting by learning to observe it."
"Why even bother with that?" Miana queried.
It sounded like too much of a hassle.
The brunette folded her arms, "Considering their losses, Miana, I thought it would do to help give them a qualitative edge."
"Then why the basic stuff?"
"Glad you asked, here's why…"
H'aerindu went on to explain at length as to the reason for this training regimen. It being that aether, to begin with, is an incredibly vague concept to most denizens of Middle-Earth. So in order for them to learn how to utilize it, they must first get a firm grasp on it. "So that is why." Augustus pondered as she finished, "By learning to observe aether through their reflection, via a suitable medium, they can use it for visual aid when they try to stimulate their output, in the hope that they'll learn how to better sense, and consequently utilize it."
Augustus continued; "It's quite well thought out, I must say. Have you taught people before?"
"A scarce few. Truth be told, I'm rather overwhelmed. So any help you guys are willing to lend would be much obliged."
"Well, say no more. I am an old hand at tutoring, so you can rely on me."
"Me too!" Miana jumped, one arm held high, "I'll help too!"
"Thank you, guys…" H'aerindu smiled, "You're really doing me a solid here."
Boromir chose that moment to come forward, looking mighty curious, "I understood only about half of what you talking about just now, but does this mean we can fight like you do if we partake in this… training?"
"Yes, and you're more than welcome to join in if you want to. You too, Gimli."
"Don't mind me if I do." Gimli rumbled, "Even though it rankles me a tad to be back on the bench."
"I would argue that you're never too old to learn new tricks, Gimli." H'aerindu gestured to the many people with buckets, some of whom have probably seen more than a few winters, "Which leads me now onto you, Still Water."
She walked past them to look up at the roegadyn, "Are you r…"
"Forget it!"
The miqo'te blinked, "Huh?"
"I said, forget it!" Still Water scoffed as he turned, about to leave, "I'm a warrior born and true, not some teacher!"
"You did not even let me fin…"
"I don't care!" He snapped, "That all sounds like not my business!"
Truth be told, Miana wouldn't mind him leaving. But it was clear that the Warrior of Light did not intend to just let it happen as the air around her took on some red-hot intensity, as if reacting to her rising anger that by some mild miracle did not reach her face.
"Is that what you tell yourself at night, that you're some great warrior?" She asked with a dangerous mien, not shouting at all.
The lalafell was sure she would much rather that she be shouting.
Instead she was summing the massive parashu of hers into her hand as she approached the flippant giant, her every step sounding somehow thunderous. Everyone flinched at her passing, except the roegadyn who seemed wholly unfazed.
Perhaps too stupid to really notice even how her mood was nigh-on about to ignite the air.
"What?" Still Water all but confirmed.
"You heard me." H'aerindu adopted a savage glare as she looked up at Still Water's back, "Turn around, and face me, Still Water."
OoOoO
Today is the day...
Disinterested in the notion of teaching, Still Water was ready and willing to tell her off once more. So he turned about toward her, believing that he as a true warrior would not entertain her ideas. Only to have his direct words of defiance die in his mouth as he found the Warrior of Light somehow looming over him like a veritable titan of some long forgotten tale.
Yet, as if this was not horrifying enough to nearly make him soil himself, she swung a parashu large enough to pierce the clouds at him.
Still Water was certain in this instant that he was about to die.
"Take up your axe, you fool!"
Snapped out of his momentary stupor by her voice, Still Water took up his own weapon that seemed like it'd only qualify as an elaborate toothpick to the giant, and in pure desperation held it in both hands as he tried to block the heavens-spanning blow he was certain would crush him to paste. Along with a greater portion of this damned dinky village.
It came down with all the force he expected.
Sinking him into the ground as he on impact tried to withstand it, screaming like a wild animal that had given over to complete fear.
Until after an eternity his knees collapsed, and he fell on his back.
It seemed his death was imminent.
Then all of a sudden the blow lightened, and he found the titan was gone – replaced by the woman he knew who sighed as she cooled down, dismissing the weapon she held against his. "U-uh?" He gawped intelligently.
"Feel like having that chat with me now?"
Chat?
Oh!
Still Water suddenly remembered that she wanted to have a talk with him after the battle. It had completely slipped his mind.
So when she addressed him, it had nothing to do with having him tutor anyone.
"Y-yeah…"
"Good." H'aerindu nodded, fully solemn, "I will preface this by saying that you don't lack in strength, but any warrior who fight without bothering to consider protecting those more vulnerable are not worthy of the name. You so utterly failed to do that in our last two battles, that it is a small miracle that no one died because of your actions."
"Do you understand?" She said after a meaningful pause.
"S-so what you just did…"
The woman narrowed her eyes dangerously, repeating her question; "Do you understand?"
Still Water shut up, nodding crisply.
"That's progress at least." H'aerindu sighed, "Now to answer your question, yes, it is something warriors can do by way of forcing themselves on the senses of their enemies. Makes it a cinch to draw their attention from those best left unmarred. It is my intent to have you learn that even if takes me literally beating it into you. So you best be a good study, or I will have to soon ask you to leave."
"Got it?" She asked pointedly.
Rather than feeling rather down about this, Still Water felt a rising sense of excitement at the prospect of becoming able to do what she just did. Something about it just appealed to him in a sense that was hard to properly explain.
So when she asked, he, without any hard feelings, responded with a prompt: "Got it."
OoOoO
Like many others in view, Boromir had been surprised when the giant roegadyn reacted the way he did as the brunette struck at him. Had it not been for the knowledge of what H'aerindu and the others could do, he would have concluded that it was wholly unwarranted. So for lack of more information he concluded that something profound just happened.
Her words during their subsequent conversation all but confirmed this.
Boromir was of a mind to ask for her to go into detail as she helped the huge armored man back onto his feet, only to be distracted when he spotted a messenger running into view.
One who wore the standard of Gondor.
This struck him as odd.
Had the communication blackout been lifted already, or?
Either way, as a High Warden of the White Tower, he had a responsibility to make sure he was all up to date about the happenings of his homeland. "Runner!" Boromir called, turning more than a few heads in the process, "What news from Gondor?"
Surprised by his sudden shout, the messenger came to a stumbling halt to look at him.
Almost like he could hardly believe his own eyes.
"Captain-General!" The man gasped, rushing on over to him, "Thank goodness you are here, well and hale. I have a message for you."
"For me?" Boromir frowned, "How did my father know of my whereabouts?"
"He didn't." He clarified, "I am but one of several to be dispatched across the realms. All with the same message, on the off-chance that one of us might find you, although the main reason for our dispatch was not you."
It was not said, but the main reason could only be a missive for the King of this realm.
"Let's hear it, then."
The messenger nodded, "On order from your father, the Steward of Gondor, you are to return and take charge of its armies immediately."
"What, why?" Boromir glared, "While it is true he doesn't hold Faramir in high esteem, my brother is more than sufficient to command in my absence."
"That is true, Captain-General, but the situation has changed."
"How?"
"Osgiliath… has fallen."
Boromir froze as he took that in, hoping against hope that he had heard wrong. The look of utter grief on the runner's face, however, told him otherwise. There was only one question in his mind as he tried to make sense of his words. "Fallen?" H'aerindu spoke up as she walked up to join them, "How did that happen, when it's supposed to be well in hand still?"
The messenger glanced at her, hesitating.
"Answer her question." Boromir allowed.
"M-my lord." He nodded, "It was due to enemy reinforcements beyond the garrison's ability to handle while stemming the tide of orcs."
"What kind of reinforcements?"
"Dragons predominantly, sir."
The words of his caused gasps to rise from most of who within ear's reach, shocked and fearful of what it meant for the war. "What of Faramir…" Boromir did not fret, though he felt a heavy weight in his chest, "Where is he now?"
"Not long after he signaled for the retreat, Captain Faramir… disappeared, and has not been seen nor heard from since. It is presumed – with reluctance – that he must have perished."
Presumed, but not confirmed.
Boromir had steeled himself for the possibility of his brother's demise, and the sorrow it would surely bring. Instead, while saddened, he was given by the lack of confirmation a small measure of hope that he was still out there. But if he truly was dead, he would not surrender to grief. Such was best left for babes. Nay, for him, only vengeance would be proper. Boromir closed his eyes for a moment, sealing his sadness deep inside before he opened them anew. "H'aerindu." He addressed, "Could you spare some of your time to walk with me?"
She looked at him, and gave a small smile, nodding, "Of course."
"If that is all, Captain-General." The messenger then said, thinking his part in this exchange was over, "I must now attend to my other task."
"Nay." Boromir shook his head, "I will take charge of your message, and your task. Rohan has suffered much of late, hence it would only be proper that I entreat them for aid. Tell me everything, and leave nothing out."
OoOoO
When he arrived at his birthplace that he had once thought he would never see again, Théodred had paused to stare at the familiar scenery before him as relief and awe both washed over him like a deluge that should have left him merry.
Instead he was sickened to the marrow of his bones.
Ashamed that he would feel that way, when so many perished for naught.
So he shoved those feelings deep inside and forged onward, quickly building up a following in the process as the guards noticed his arrival, and hastily formed up offer escort. Many people also followed suit who attended him about the ill-fated expedition, seeking answers to questions he could not give at this time.
Causing more than a few weeping wives to fall behind, whose anguish was like barbs piercing his heart.
Making him detest himself all the more.
Éomer would probably have told him it wasn't his fault, but it was he who had agreed to undertake the journey when it was clear his father was not in the right state of mind.
That, and it was his eagerness to do right by acquiring another aetheryte for Rohan.
Continuing his ascent, Théodred soon walked up the steps leading to the hall of Meduseld's entrance where he was met by Háma and a few of his fellow King's Guard. "Prince Théodred." Háma said almost breathlessly, "You're alive, just as she said…"
The prince blinked, "Of whom do you speak of?"
"One by name of H'aerindu Dhelh, my lord."
"So she survived." Théodred was quite ecstatic about that, though he showed little of it beside a heartfelt smile, "Her comrades are sure to be thrilled, and so am I. For now, however, I must speak to my father. Open the door."
"Your father is currently in a council meet, mind."
"No matter. I will deal with it as I go."
Háma reluctantly obliged, and nodded for those with him to open the door. Normally the doorward would declare the names of those who enter, but Théodred cared little for such formality at the moment as the instant it was open, and some of the nobles turned in outrage at this interruption, Théodred strode right in, his frame momentarily unidentifiable to those inside as light briefly flooded the dark interior. "What is this!?" The chief among the nobles called out, angered, "Dooward, how dare you allow someone to intrude on—"
Théodred ignored him as he strode to them, "Father, I have returned from the field that is my labor, and we must speak at once!"
"My son," spoke Théoden who now rose from his throne, into view, "is that you?"
For a moment he was struck dumb as he looked on his father, who no longer was in a decrepit state, his sickly skin, scraggly beard, and deep wrinkles all but gone. Indeed it looked as though he had gained a great number of his years. Théodred wondered how such a miracle could have been brought about, but then he spied Gandalf at the King's side, and immediately knew the answer. Or at least he thought he did as he spoke. "Father," Théodred said, "You seem at better health than last we met!"
"For that I have lady Dhelh to thank." Théoden said, "The same as you, if her story of struggle in the depths of that wretched mine ring true."
"Aye, that is the truth." Théodred said unhesitatingly, as his gratitude toward the woman grew to be legion. It was for certain that he now owed her a debt he was not sure he could ever repay. "As will be made clear as I make my report."
Théoden nodded, "Then this meeting is adjourned, for the nonce."
"My lord." One of the nobles spoke up, "We still have many matters to…"
"Stand aside." Théoden silenced the noble with an intense glare that was nostalgic to behold, before he set his gaze back on his son, "Now my son, make your report."
Théodred nodded as he took to a knee, "Yes, father."
OoOoO
Gandalf served as a silent spectator as the Prince laid out the events of his expedition as they ventured into Moria's depths in search for their prize – an aetheryte they could place in Helm's Deep, something that has been clamored for by the marshals for a time – only to find no end to the trouble as countless orcs descended upon them.
Which led to a continuously escalating situation, until their salvation by the Fellowship of the Ring.
Lending credibility to H'aerindu's incredible tale with every word he spoke.
Unfortunately, though, while the troops managed to extricate themselves from Moria's dark embrace, their losses were grievous indeed.
"So after the final tally was made, ere we parted." Théodred spoke, "It is with regret I reveal that out of the eight thousand men I set out with, less than two thousand, as few as fourteen hundred, survived the battle."
"That is barely anything at all!"
One of the nobles blurted this out, leading to a hushed discussion among them in clear concern.
"Silence." Théoden growled, his ice cold words compelling them to cease, "We've already drawn the conclusion that Saruman's intention was to bleed us out, to completely annihilate our army. Be relieved that some managed to survive at all. Better than none. It will allow us to raise and train another army in short order, after we placate our citizen – assuring them there won't be a repeat of recent events that led us to such a deplorable state."
"S-Saruman did that?" Théodred was surprised.
"Indeed." Gandalf joined the conversation, informing him with a touch of bitterness.
"But then!"
"Have no fear, for H'aerindu vanquished him not long ago."
"Which is how I was freed, and recovered as a consequence." Théoden supplied, "Justice has been measured out in full, and now we must deal with the aftermath. But so long as nothing happens, we should be able to…"
The door flew open again at that moment.
"My lord, pardon the interruption!" Háma saluted, standing in the frame, "There are visitors here who desire an audience post-haste."
Théoden frowned, "Who is it?"
"Boromir, son of Denethor, and the lady Dhelh."
Naturally this led to another hushed discussion among the nobles, expressing surprise for the visit from the heir to the seat of Steward of Gondor.
"Let them in."
Háma inclined his head in obeisance before he walked back outside, and allowed those waiting outside to come inside. It looked as though Prince Théodred was about to pounce as H'aerindu came into focus from the blinding outdoor light with the intent of heaping lavish praise onto her, but her companion came forth before he could.
Setting down on a knee before the throne.
"King of Rohan." Boromir addressed, using formal language, "I come before you in this time of need with a dire message of utmost urgency!"
Gandalf narrowed his eyes, steeling himself for what must be bad news.
"Let us hear it." Théoden rumbled after a brief thought.
Boromir inclined his head, and then spoke of a most nightmarish situation that did not bode well for the southern front at all – about the fall of Osgiliath into enemy hands, and the tableau of monsters that were responsible for turning the battle to Sauron's advantage. The steward's heir spoke of a hundred thousand marching orcs, of hundreds of marauding trolls, of evil men, about terrible machines that trundled the battlefield in numbers, and most terribly a horde of dragons that swept up and tore at Gondor's garrison in the city, and that would have no doubt slaughtered them to the last had not Captain Faramir ordered a complete withdrawal.
Only to vanish soon after, separated from his forces.
With their forces diminished, leaderless, unable to bar the enemy from bringing their full force to bear, the prospects of the southern front were bad indeed. It was far worse a situation than Gandalf could ever expect.
Théoden gripped his throne's armrests as he listened.
"We are facing an unmitigated disaster unequaled in our history." Boromir declared, "For if Minas Tirith – the last of the great fortresses – falls, the enemy will wash across west… with no one able to stop their advance. So it is with supreme regret, and understanding for your position, that I've come in person to plead for your aid."
Quietness was the response.
Shock.
Horror.
Dismay.
All of it hung over them like a dismal smog.
It was perfectly understandable that no one could muster a response, for with the Rohirrim in their current state they could not respond. Revealing yet another layer to Saruman's plan. That being to ensure that Rohan cannot ride to Gondor's aid.
The rogue wizard's plan was all but perfect, and using his road map build up over millennia of preparation for this all but inevitable war, Gandalf could not think of a suitable countermeasure that might aid them.
He was honestly at quite the loss.
One among the younger nobles spoke, "How did this happen?"
"To begin with, where did all these dragons come from?" Another one joined in, "And what is this about these machines you speak of?"
"You don't know this because of the blackout." H'aerindu spoke up, "But some time ago Smaug crossed over into our world, and then after attacking a place called Falcon's Nest ventured north to the lofty land of Dravania, which is where he amassed the army now in evidence – likely from the remnants of the late dread Nidhogg's horde."
"As for the machines." She continued, "Servants of Sauron managed to draw a goblin sect called the Illuminati into his fold, giving his armies access to their weapons of war."
"One of which threatened my forces in Moria." Théodred nodded, concluding the machine that threatened them in Moria was of Illuminati construction. "It was a true force to be reckoned with that my men had no answer for."
The brunette smiled, "Indeed, good thing we got there when we did."
"Even accounting for the dragons, and all else." Théoden growled, "If even one of those machines could threaten thousands, then what can we do against a great number of them?"
H'aerindu was quick to assuage their fears; "You need not be that concerned, for despite all their power, they can only be truly effective while supported by accompanying foot soldiers. Separate them, and they become much easier to handle."
"Duly noted." Nevertheless the King frowned, "Yet in our current state, our numbers decimated. We will require several days or weeks to marshal an army great enough to even hope to make some difference on the fields of Pelennor – by which time it will be too late. It is my supreme regret, sir Boromir, that Rohan cannot help Gondor in this time of its greatest need."
Boromir lowered his head in acceptance, unable to argue back.
Neither could Gandalf.
More than simply acknowledging the situation, he felt defeated at having no suitable pawns on the board of his millennia-old road plan of use in this grim circumstance… until he looked up, met the silent miqo'te's stolid gaze, and realized he was thinking of the past too much, thinking more of the before rather than the now.
There was still a way out.
"Nay." The old wizard said as he rose to his full height, "We still have a chance. Théoden King, marshal your forces as much as you can within the coming days. Whatever time you need to accomplish this and ride to Gondor, we will give you."
Théoden blinked in surprise at this, "Gandalf, did you not hear?"
"What you need to mobilize, is time. That is a resource not lost to us. Not yet."
"But without reinforcements most grand, how will you even hope to hold Minas Tirith for so long?"
To this Gandalf smiled, his eyes glittering, "We do have reinforcements on hand. In fact we have allies now who remain unspent against all the armies of Mordor."
Uninformed as he was, Théoden struggled to recall whether such a force existed, though a flicker of hope now returned to his eyes that were previously dim and empty as he looked up to the wizard imploringly. "Who?" He asked.
Gandalf obliged, as his gaze returned to the Warrior of Light:
"The Eorzean Alliance."
Author notes: Sorry about the lateness of this chapter. My external hd went down, and for all my attempts to recover the contents, the finished chapter was corrupted beyond saving. So I was forced to write the whole thing all over again from scratch.
It was a real sordid state of affairs to be in, to say the least, as entire stories can die over less.