AN: Thanks for the notice about titanium not holding an edge. I didn't know that but unfortunately there's no getting rid of that now. Let's just pretend it's all good, eh? No word on when I'll get started with the revamp- the start of possible WW3 has me in for a spin. Also part of why I haven't replied to any messages for a while. Sorry.
Also I've gotten a couple messages about people wanting to read my old HP fic Photograph, so I'm thinking of rewriting that and posting it. If anyone would be interested in Hermione/Cedric/Oliver in 4th year, let me know and I'll include a note in this fic when the first chapter of that is up. If I do rewrite and repost it.
Chapter 45: The Hammer
There were plenty of times I thought I was going to die. Two school shootings, two shootings on the street, three car accidents, eight years in the Marines, the flu- I couldn't count them all on my hands and feet. But I was more sure than ever that this corridor in Helm's Deep was going to be my grave and not that beautiful sarcophagus in Minas Tirith.
Who knew how many hours had passed fighting in the deeps? All I knew was that two of my Rohirrim soldiers and Iodocus had fallen, and I was getting so tired. My hammer had never felt heavier; it would almost be a relief if my arms fell off.
Then there was a clatter of swords from the other end of the corridor. A masculine grunt of effort.
If my heart had the ability to go faster, it would have. Hope burst through it at the sound of a human making his way toward the cave doors. Just another few minutes, I assured myself as I forced my hammer up to block a sword blow. There was no surge of energy- I was at the very end of my endurance- but I managed to keep going.
The last uruk fell and a face I hadn't really expected to see again appeared. Boromir was as coated in black blood as I was, magnificent as he cleaned his sword on the inside of his cloak to sheath it. "Cass?" he asked, voice choked.
"Who else has a nose like this?" I teased hoarsely.
With a breath of relief, Boromir swooped down on me and crushed me to his chest. "Thank the valar you're alive," he whispered in my ear.
"How are you alive?" I asked, unable to believe it. Wasn't rushing out there on those horses a suicide charge? But even the Light Brigade in Crimea had survivors.
And so did Helm's Deep.
I wanted to hug Boromir back, but my arms just wouldn't obey me now that the immediate danger was over. They felt like lead weights hanging off my shoulders. My fingers lost their grip on my hammer and I jumped back with a yelp of pain when it fell on my foot. "Goddammit," I muttered and then laughed at my own clumsiness.
It was hard not to laugh when both my husband and I had survived the unsurvivable.
Pain assailed me when I bent over and forced myself to pick up the hammer, put it on my belt for safe keeping. "Martin, can you get our little trap down? I don't think it's needed anymore," I requested, grinning.
"Not going to bring the ceiling down just for fun?" he teased and slung his rifle over his shoulder.
I snorted out a laugh. "I have an interest in seeing my sisters and their kids again, thanks," I answered, "Besides, King Theoden might get angry if we blew the place up for kicks."
We shared a giggle.
"What's-your-face with the helmet," I called, and thankfully the only Rohirrim soldier I had left looked up, "Think you can find the women and children and bring them back?"
He nodded. "Yes, my lady," he agreed despite his own obvious exhaustion.
Haldir, Martin, and Boromir moved the benches they had piled up in front of the doors in order to let the man slip through. There was quite a bit of noise as he wiggled through the small gap they made in the doors and over the obstacles on the other side.
Suddenly everything hurt, but especially that cut I got an hour or so ago. It was probably already infected, I thought mournfully. All the uruk blood and sweat and everything else.
Now that the danger was over, I leaned against a blood-splattered wall and sighed heavily. "I need another nap," I stated and yawned as exhaustion hit me, "You think anybody would mind me taking an hour or so?"
"That sounds like a plan," Martin agreed, the yawn infectious.
"I do not think that anyone will expect much of you for a while yet," Boromir confirmed. Even he looked tired as he added, half joking, "You're only human, after all."
It made me smile truly and not so sadly now. "That I am, Mr Part-Numenorean," I teased, "If anyone asks, I'll be in our room. If there aren't any corpses in there." I wrinkled my nose and very much hoped there wasn't.
"Have none of my companions from Lothlorien survived?" Haldir asked suddenly, face almost expressionless.
"Only you," Boromir replied sympathetically.
The elf nodded and a look of pain aged his features for a brief moment. "What can I do to help?" he asked softly.
Boromir led Haldir over the pile of corpses and up the corridor, telling him as they went, "There are few injuries but many dead. The bodies need to be gathered."
That should take more than the hour or so that I planned to be out cold for, so I jerked my head for Martin to follow me. "Let's get that nap," I suggested.
We stumbled over the corpses of our enemies and friends the whole way to the guest bedrooms. The room with two beds unfortunately did have a corpse in it, so I eyed Martin beadily as I shouldered my door open. "I reserve the right to kick you if you snore," I threatened.
"Right back at you, mate," he replied and then yawned again.
I barely spent a moment shedding my outerwear before I fell into bed. My boots and trench coat had taken the brunt of the blood, so I was surprisingly clean when I let myself collapse with a groan. Just very, very sweaty and smelly.
A similar groan of pain echoed from the other side of the bed. "This hurts so good," he muttered.
It felt weird sharing a bed with a man that wasn't Boromir. Back in the desert I'd occasionally had to huddle with my teammates for warmth on freezing cold nights, but that was so long ago… Eh, it was just Martin, I thought sleepily. He basically didn't count.
I was out before I even knew I was.
When I was woken by my shoulder being shaken, I mumbled several four letter prayers and maybe threatened my tormentor's manly bits. I was so nice and warm…
"You said an hour," Boromir said patiently, "It's been an hour and a half."
Fuck, he was right. "Goddamn my conscience," I muttered and very reluctantly, with much pain on my part, sat up.
An arm fell from around my waist and I jerked around to see who was cuddling me this time. In the dim torchlight I saw Electra laying where she had obviously been pressed tightly against me with Diego on her other side, Martin uncomfortably sandwiched between him and Murphy, and York sleeping across the mattress at our feet. Oh, the memories this brought back of my wild teenage years…
"What I'd do for a camera," I snickered. Then I tried moving again and my laughter abruptly stopped.
"Sore?" Boromir guessed.
"Like I got hit by an eighteen-wheeler," I confirmed in a grumble.
He blinked, but then smiled and fondly shook his head. "I can't imagine what would need eighteen wheels, but that must be some pain indeed. Food will make you feel better," he suggested.
Oh Lord, food. I had forgotten all about it. But now that I wasn't dead on my feet, my stomach roared voraciously enough that I felt sick. "Ugh. Okay," I mumbled.
Only sheer will power allowed me to get my shoes on and, with a seconds long pep talk, finally get to my feet. I gritted my teeth to shuffle the first few steps, but after the initial stiffness faded it was easier. The stairs also sucked, pulling on my lower back the whole way up. For once I was grateful for my old injuries; I knew how to deal with quite a bit of agony and still function.
The smell of food nearly made me hurl. Only sheer determination got the first few bites of bread and pottage down; after that, it got better and I practically inhaled what I was given. Across from me Aragorn looked like something the cat dragged in (as usual) and Legolas ate daintily at his side between arguments with Gimli about who killed more uruks.
"Now that I think about it, how did you make it through this mess?" I asked Gimli, remembering Murphy and Guerra's living bodies as well.
Gimli gave me a stern look and jabbed at me with a piece of bread. "I would have gone into battle at the horn itself, had I the choice!" he growled, "But your friends threatened to tie me up if I gave our position away!"
Oh, Murphy, I thought fondly. Always the pragmatist out of us kooks. "So, they just… didn't find you?" I had to ask.
With a huff, Gimli nodded.
I gave the ceiling a dead look and went back to eating. "Dude. I wish I had that kind of luck," I told him, "I love the smell of napalm in the morning as much as anybody else but I wouldn't have minded them missing my position." Maybe then Iodocus wouldn't have died.
"Napalm?" Legolas asked.
"Mixed oil and tar set on fire then launched at the enemy," I provided.
Even Gimli looked slightly disturbed.
Thankfully King Theoden appeared then, bags under his eyes even heavier than last night. "Ah, Lady Cassandra," he said upon noticing me, "When you finish your meal, I have a job for you if you are able."
I didn't feel very able, but still nodded. I only had a few more spoonfuls left so I shoved them quickly into my mouth. "What do you need, sir?" I asked politely upon standing.
He gestured for me to follow him outside, into a buzz of activity. The stench of burning uruk corpses billowed into the sky and made my eyes water as I followed King Theoden to an area away from the piles of uruk corpses. Here laid the fallen on our side, Rohirrim and elves alike, side by side.
We stopped at the end of a row where Iodocus's broad, underfed body laid. His chest was covered where he had been stabbed to death and his face looked almost peaceful, like he was having a good dream.
"Haldir and Prince Legolas have advised me that the elves should be buried here with my men," King Theoden told me, grief in his eyes as he surveyed the lost men, "But I do not know what to do with the Wild Man's body. What would his people want?"
On their behalf, I was touched by his concern for a former enemy. "The Senones bury their dead and plant a tree over the grave," I replied, "It would be too complicated to bring him home, so plant him here and we'll tell his family where to come to pray for him."
King Theoden nodded. "Despite so many generations of war between our peoples, he died to protect the Rohirrim," he murmured, "His family deserves a great treasure for his deeds in the deep."
You have no idea, I thought, remembering his fierce defense of me and the doors. His face always ready to smile and arms so often used to give crushing hugs. "Will there be peace between you, then?" I dared to ask.
The answer was an immediate affirmative. "When it is safe to bring Theodred home, then I will bring them this man's rewards and offers of friendship," he declared, "This battle may have gone ill without his help."
We needed every man we had. Even one less may have made the difference between holding out and failing.
"Will your friends continue to war with us?" King Theoden asked expectantly.
"Where I go, they go," I answered simply, "And I'm going to war."
Something like a smile curved the corners of King Theoden's lips upward. "A loyal team. Their weaponry was of tremendous help this night. Do you or they have any needs to be met before the next battle? I noticed that they do not have swords with their strange weapons."
Oh, how times change… "If you're going to give them swords, someone should show them how to use those swords," I just had to snicker, "Our military hasn't used swords in at least a century. It's all explosions, guns, and in a desperate situation the occasional knife." Oh, this was going to be so pitiful it would be funny. I couldn't wait.
"Queen Elizabeth mentioned something similar," King Theoden mused.
"Where is she?" I asked upon realizing she hadn't been crammed onto the bed with the rest of us. Terror rippled through me.
"Sleeping."
I let out a deep breath and clutched my chest in relief. We had gotten off light in some ways.
"How do your people dispose of their dead?" King Theoden asked suddenly and gestured for me to follow him.
The terror returned. "It depends on the dead person's preference," I answered carefully, barely daring to breathe, "Who is it?"
When we stopped, the blood drained from my face and I had to catch myself on King Theoden's shoulder. "Oh no…" I whimpered.
Matt had been pierced through the throat by an arrow, armor not even an obstacle. His curly brown hair and beard were even longer now, his tanned face pale in death. Instead of looking peaceful his brow was furrowed; he looked to be in the midst of some great deed.
"Does Mackey know?" I asked softly. My chest hurt with the loss of my favorite brother-in-law.
"She and Desdemona are mourning together," King Theoden confirmed.
At least they were together. As much as I didn't want to go anywhere near that tear fest, I knew that soon I would have to. "Matt wanted to be buried," I told King Theoden past the lump in my throat, "Too many of his ancestors were murdered and their bodies burned by their enemies."
"Then he will be buried with my other men and the elves, in honor," King Theoden decided. "Thank you for your assistance, Lady Cassandra. That is all I needed."
The last thing I wanted was to bother him more, so I dipped my head, said goodbye, and hurried away. My eyes watered and chin wobbled with the losses of the night: Matt, Iodocus, and Stithulf. At least they hadn't died for nothing.
On my way back to the castle plenty of people stared and whispered, but I paid little attention to them. I was a sight to behold after all, dirty and a big ragged and clearly shell-shocked. Then I heard what they were saying.
"Look, it's the hammer."
"Is that the hammer?"
"Bit small to be the hammer."
The hairs on the back of my neck pricked up with the feeling of watching eyes, but no one seemed to meet my gaze directly. Terribly aware of my appearance and stench, I hurried back to the inner fortifications.
By a miracle one of my party dresses was found in Andy's stuff and I managed to get in a sponge bath before I was called on yet again. This time it was the housekeeper from Meduseld, eyes red from tears hastily wiped away. "Pardon my Lady, but I know the maid Rohesia favors you. Have you seen her? She's been missing since we fled into the caves," she said, sounding like she had a bad head cold.
My stomach dropped hard. Rohesia was gone forever, thrown into a war just as bad as this one and as lost as I had been upon entering Middle Earth. How does one explain that to a person who probably hasn't thought of time travel once in her whole life?
I let out a breath I hadn't realized I was holding. "She's… gone to my country," I said, not a lie but not quite the truth either. It would be a year and some before she helped smuggle Brian O'Connell out of occupied France, and another few before he brought his war bride to America.
The housekeeper blinked uncomprehendingly. "She didn't tell me she was going anywhere," she said.
"She didn't know she was going," I replied, then hastily told her, "Look, it's way more complicated than we have time for but-"
"One of my staff is missing; there's plenty of time," the housekeeper interrupted. She put her hands on her hips stubbornly.
Groaning, I covered my face with my hands for a brief moment. "Right. I suppose I'll have to explain it to everyone at once. Where's King Theoden?" I asked, dread swirling in my gut, "And my sister and aunt?"
"Last I saw, they were all in the main hall," the housekeeper replied promptly. "My lady," she added belatedly.
I waved it off. "Okay, let's go up there and interrupt so we can get this over with," I said and before she could stop me, I led her on a bit of a chase up the corridor.
King Theoden, Gandalf, Aragorn, and Boromir were at first bent over a map with Aunt Libby, but they looked up quickly at my stampeding footsteps. "Is there an uruk on your heels?" Aunt Libby questioned, eyebrow raised.
"No, just the housekeeper with questions about Rohesia," I replied quite loudly and obviously.
Grimacing, Aunt Libby looked away. "Right," she muttered, "Of course it would be now." She set herself down gracefully on a bench and patted the seat beside her.
Best to present a united front, I took the offer. Gently I bumped my shoulder against hers for reassurance.
"Is there something wrong, Gudrun?" King Theoden asked his servant, clearly so done with this already.
"The maid Rohesia is missing and has been since we were running through the tunnels," Gudrun the housekeeper announced, "We've checked everywhere but there's no trace of her. Lady Cassandra says she's gone to their strange homeland."
Now it was me King Theoden turned his tired gaze on. "Might you explain?" he requested curtly.
I knew this would happen one day, but I wasn't ready for it. At least I had Aunt Libby. "That requires explaining where we come from, which is… complicated," I said, talking as I scrambled to figure out how to say it.
"It's less where we come from, because we come from… Forlinden, abouts," Aunt Libby explained much better than I ever could, "It's when we're from, which is several million years into the future when Minas Tirith is buried and there aren't any elves or dwarves or wizards, or anybody but humans left."
While Aragorn assessed our sanity, Legolas gave that glowing, mischievous smile from over his shoulder. Of course he was going to sit back and enjoy the fallout.
Boromir's eyes were doubtful but he looked like he was struggling with himself. He clearly wanted to believe us.
"Finally you say something," Gandalf huffed, though his eyes sparkled.
I whipped my head to face him. "You knew we were from the future?" I demanded.
Quite cheerily Gandalf replied, "I am a maiar. Of course I know when someone is temporally displaced, though it happens so rarely I do not always see clearly. It is simply polite to wait for the time traveler to speak of the matter first."
I rolled my eyes. Of course, he would pull the heavenly being card.
"Time travel?" King Theoden repeated, obviously wondering if we were pulling his leg.
"Doesn't it explain a few things?" Aunt Libby prodded, "Our speech patterns, clothes, customs? The weapons the fresh meat brought in last night?"
"This fresh meat would like a new nickname," Martin announced, voice echoing up the stairs.
Suddenly Boromir perked up. As soon as my old teammate was in sight he said, "I was told before the battle to ask about something called Blind and Frozen."
The blood suddenly drained out of Martin's face.
But for once I was in the loop. "You finally chose the song for your resignation video?" I asked expectantly, "Let's see it." I waved him over.
He tried to smile but it didn't work. "You know I don't take my phone on tour," he reminded me.
"And you know that I always smuggle mine out," Guerra said with unwarranted seriousness as he ascended the stairs.
Martin spun around and shook his head. "Guerra, is now really the time-" he protested.
"Actually, that'll help with our case that we're from the future," Aunt Libby interrupted, "Come over and let's see this video that Mr Fresh Meat offered." She waved for Guerra to come over this way.
Tense, Martin looked like he was considering tackling Guerra for the phone. What was so bad that he didn't want me to see? It sent a pang through my chest that he didn't trust me anymore.
But Guerra got to the table unmolested, pulling out a touchscreen phone in a tough case on his way. Unlocked, he set it down at the head of the table. "Gather 'round, the screen isn't that big," he urged us all.
Far too curious for my own good, I crunched in beside Aunt Libby and Aragorn to see the screen. My eyes followed Guerra's smooth movements hungrily, amazed that I had found such a miracle so ordinary before. His video library had some of everything from Reba MacIntyre to Korn to a few full-length movies that I had to bother him into letting me watch later, but above all there were clips of the team.
"Amazing," Aragorn breathed.
I glanced up at where Martin still stood, looking like he was awaiting some awful blow. He gave me a tight smile.
I return the expression, unsettled by how tense he was.
"And, play," Guerra announced.
I looked at the screen and my breath caught.
AN: By the way, in my wild teenage years we managed to squeeze five obese people napping on a queen bed so I'm pretty sure six atheletic people could fit on something closer to a king size. Oh, those days… Also, "Blind and Frozen" is a real song that doesn't belong to me in any way. It just fits the story.
I recognized some errors after my first posting, so I corrected them and reuploaded. Sorry about the double alert.