Thank you once again for all of your reviews. Thanks once more to Moriah for reading and reviewing my story. No, Moriah, I am not going to switch Aníron for a girl who looks more like you, Aníron does not even look like me in the first place! Anyway, that little argument aside, please continue to read and review my story. Remember any suggestions or criticism is accepted with open arms. Sorry that this is taking so long, I have a ton of school work and band auditions. Please continue to read and review!
Chapter 13. Isengard
Legolas looked around him, trying to decipher shapes in the dense fog. He could feel Gimli tense up behind him on Arod's back. Aníron seemed worried at the sight of the objects in the fog. The land was barren; only burnt stumps of trees remained. Smoke and steam came from holes and scraggly caves, the only sound was the sound of horses hooves and water trickling over the stones of the riverbed. A large pillar loomed ahead of the company, but only when they grew closer did Aníron know what it was.
A large white hand with blood red fingernails stood alone just off of the road. Pools were all around them, as if there had been a flood, and the ground was wet with trickling water. Tall and black in the mist, Orthanc stood, pale water lapping at its feet, but not harming it. They all turned to the archway that once had been there, but now only a pile of rubble stood. Aníron and Legolas were startled to find two grey clad figures sitting at ease among the stones, bottles and platters at their feet. One of them had small wisps of smoke pouring from their mouth.
The smoking figure stood, and Aníron recognized him as one of the hobbits that had been with the company, whom were supposed to be rescuing. 'Welcome to Isengard, my lords,' he spoke with a cheery relaxed voice, his eyes traveled around the group, and resting on Aníron in surprise. 'My lady!' He bowed low, and continued on with his previous speech, 'I am Meriadoc of the house of Brandybuck, and my companion,' here he gave a swift kick to the hobbit at his side, 'is Peregrin of the house of Took.' Gimli and Legolas were wearing looks of anger and amusement as they beheld the hobbits sitting here, and Aníron could not help but smile.
'Here we find you resting feasting, drinking, and smoking!' Gimli roared at the young hobbit, 'Where did you come by the weed you villains?' Legolas' usually calm voice also had a hint of anger in it, 'I too would like to know that, but I would sooner find where you came by the wine.' Merry answered with a quick smile, 'And I would like to know where you came by the lady,' he winked at Aníron, and turned his attention back to Gandalf and Théoden. Legolas was gaping somewhat at the impudent hobbit's words, and Gimli pointed this out, as Aníron was shaking with silent laughter at Merry's daring.
Later, Merry and Pippin led Aragorn, Gimli, Legolas, and Aníron to a small guardhouse where they had stored food and drink. The six of them were sitting around a small wooden table, Gimli was smoking a pipe with the hobbits, and Aragorn was smoking alone, looking out the window. Legolas and Aníron were drinking red wine that Pippin had found and speaking softly near the end of the table. Merry had just finished telling Aragorn and Gimli of his and Pippin's capture by the orcs and their escape to Fangorn Forest where they had befriended Treebeard.
Merry noticed this immediately and spoke loudly, interrupting the elves in the corner, 'You have heard our story, but what of your travels?' Legolas glared at him for interrupting, but Aragorn began to speak. 'It turns out that Aníron had been following us since Lothlórien,' He said with a smile. 'Or rather following Legolas,' Gimli muttered under his breath to Merry and Pippin. Aníron blushed and Legolas shot Gimli a look of poison. Aragorn smiled at them, and then continued on with telling the hobbits of their travels. When Aragorn recounted the events of Helm's Deep, Aníron bowed her head, and they could see tears welling in her eyes at the memories. After the story telling had finished they stepped outside of the hut for some fresh air.
Gandalf, Théoden, and the rest of the riders were standing not far away, and it seemed that they were discussing whether or not to go up to Orthanc. 'Where is Éomer?' Aníron wondered aloud, her keen eyes searching for the horse lord. Legolas' eyes darkened at the mention of Éomer. Even though Aníron's love for him had been proven in the past two days, he still felt threatened by this mortal man, and his dislike for him grew daily.
Just then, Éomer strode up to the company, giving Aníron a cheerful smile. Legolas' mood darkened further and his eyes narrowed. Merry and Pippin noticed this change of mood, but did not say anything, for the look in the elf prince's eyes was murderous. Gandalf spoke; 'I must pay Saruman a farewell visit. Though it may be useless and dangerous, it must be done. Those of you who wish to come may, but do not jest! It is not the time for it.' Gimli called out to him, 'I will come, I wish to know what he looks like.' Legolas called as well, 'I too will come, who else is here to represent my people.' Aníron smirked at this, had Legolas suddenly forgotten she was here? 'I will come,' she said in a strong but soft voice, and all of the company turned to look at her.
Legolas and Éomer both showed concern at this proclamation. 'Aníron, are you sure that you can face him?' Legolas whispered in her ear, 'You are not fully healed yet.' It was true; Aníron was still weak from her wound, though she did not wish to show it. Éomer came up to her as well, much to the annoyance of Legolas. 'Please, lady, you are not yet strong enough to face Saruman,' Éomer was trying his best to convince her, but it was not working. 'Aníron, please, do not endanger yourself.' Aníron looked up at Éomer in surprise; he had never actually used her name when talking to her. She looked into his eyes and saw concern and worry, but she would not turn from this opportunity.
Legolas was angered greatly, never before had a mortal man challenged him as such. But he had never before fallen seriously in love. He spoke coldly and softly to the horse lord, 'If it were not for you, Éomer, she would not have been injured in the first place.' Éomer turned to Legolas in about two seconds, his eyes narrowed dangerously. 'I did not mean to have her injured I was trying my best to protect her.' 'Your best was clearly not good enough,' Legolas snapped at him. 'Was that a challenge?' 'Would you like it to be?'
A fierce mind battle raged between man and elf, hate shining clearly in both of their narrowed eyes. Just as Éomer had drawn his sword and Legolas his bow, Aníron stepped between them. 'Please, do not waste your anger on my attention. It is no one's fault but mine that I was injured, and I do not wish for either of you to be injured by the other's hand.' Gandalf watched as she attempted to calm the two raging males down, to little avail. This is exactly what he had feared would happen and now it was much more serious than Éomer's obsession with the elf maiden. These two were willing to fight to the death for Aníron's attention, and that would not benefit either person. Aníron finally calmed them down, but she caught Legolas and Éomer shooting each other wary glances behind her back the entire way to the steps of Orthanc.
Gandalf knocked on the large doors of the tower, his knocks ringing hollow against the stone. 'Saruman, Saruman!' he called, and a window above the door opened slightly, but no figure could be seen. A familiar voice echoed out of the darkness, 'Who is it, what do you wish?' Théoden started at the voice and spoke, 'I know that voice, and I rue the day I first listened to it.' It was Wormtongue, now in the service of Saruman. 'Go fetch Saruman, Gríma Wormtongue, and do not waste our time.' Éomer cringed at the sound of Wormtongue's voice, for his hatred of Wormtongue was far stronger that his hate of Legolas.
Moments later, a new voice came from the window, low and melodious, and it seemed to charm the men of the group like a spell, but Aníron and Legolas' minds remained clear from the magic of Saruman. 'Why must you disturb my rest? Will you give me no peace?' The company looked up to see an old man with long white hair, flecked with black and a long beard as well. He was dressed in long flowing robes that appeared white at first view, but whenever he moved the colors changed, dazzling the eyes.
'Two of you at least I know by name. Gandalf you have often turned to my council in times of peril, but has left my council for good I fear.' Saruman's voice was still sweet and alluring, but it had a tone of harshness at Gandalf's mention. 'Théoden, worthy son of Thengel, much have I desired to see you, mighty king of Rohan. In your moment of despair, I alone can save you.' The wizard's voice was sweet again, and the Riders of Rohan stood in awe of this great man who complimented their king so fittingly. All was silent for a short time until Aníron's sweet, clear voice rang out from the company. 'Your voice may be sweet but your words are foul, Saruman. In the language of Orthanc, help means ruin and save means slay. Do not weave the spells of treachery here.' The minds of the Riders cleared at the sound of the elf maid's voice, and it seemed to them that Saruman was not a kindly as he had seemed at first.
'Silence!' Saruman's voice lost its sweetness and adopted a more harsh tone. 'Be silent you foul creature, treacherous snake. You have been sent by that horrid witch of Lórien to spy on me. Be gone, woman, your place is not here!' The company was in shock at the change that had come over the wizard. Legolas was reaching for his bow, but Gandalf stopped him as Éomer began to speak, 'Speak no ill of this lady, she is pure and kind, with not a blemish on her soul.' Legolas stepped next to him. 'Do not dare to speak of that which you do not know, Saruman, it will be the death of you.' The wizard laughed at them coldly, mockery in his voice, 'So she has trapped both elves and men under her spell has she? Why does she even travel with you? What pleasure does she give that she cannot be left behind?'
Legolas was outraged, how could he dare speak of Aníron so evilly? Aníron was standing alone in the company, her stature seemed to have grown, and she looked powerful and terrible. Saruman grew silent from his taunts as he saw her, and he cringed back as if in fear. She shrunk back to her normal size and spoke calm and soft, 'I am not a witch or a snake, and I weave no spells of deception to catch men. It is only you who weaves such spells, Saruman, but your voice has lost it's sweetness, and we look upon your true self.' Saruman looked taken aback by this proclamation, but soon started muttering under his breath, his staff in hand.
Legolas was impressed by Aníron's show of strength, but he quickly ran to her side, for her face was contorted in pain. She clutched her chest wound, and blood stained her tunic under her fair hands. Saruman laughed, 'So you are not so strong after all, if a simple spell can render you helpless.' Aníron was growing faint from lack of blood, and was leaning against Legolas for support. 'Do not worry, love,' he whispered in her ear, 'I will protect you.' Aníron nodded just before she closed her eyes and fainted into his arms.
Author's Note: No she isn't dead, she just fainted from lack of blood. She'll be fine, don't worry.