A/N: So sorry this took so long! I seem to be having writer's block on all of my stories! **sigh** Also, this story is gonna be a lot longer than I first guessed. I'd say 15 more chapters, give or take a few. I promise, it's worth following! And I know the beginning stinks, so as soon as I post the last chapter I shall begin to rewrite it and make it much much better. Okay, here's the next chapter.
Chapter 32: Teasing Wizards and the Truth of Fate
Erestor lay on a pile of rubble, dozing in the warm sunshine as Merry and Pippin talked about the destruction of Isengard.
"As soon as Saruman's army was gone, Treebeard put us down and went up to the gates, and began hammering on the doors, and calling for Saruman," Merry said. "There was no answer, except arrows and stones from the walls. But arrows are no use against Ents. They hurt them, of course, and infuriate them: like stinging flies. But an Ent can be stuck as full of orc-arrows as a pincushion, and take no serious harm. They cannot be poisoned, for one thing; and their skin seems to be very thick, and tougher than bark. It takes a very heavy axe-stroke to wound them seriously. They don't like axes. But there would have to be a great many axe-men to one Ent: a man that hacks once at an Ent never gets a chance of a second blow. A punch from an Ent-fist crumples up iron like thin tin."
"When Treebeard had got a few arrows in him, he began to warm up, to get positively 'hasty', as he would say," Pippin continued. "He let out a great hoom-hom, and a dozen more Ents came striding up. An angry Ent is terrifying. Their fingers, and their toes, just freeze onto rock; and they tear it up like bread-crust. It was like watching the work of great tree-roots in a hundred years, all packed into a few moments.
"They pushed, pulled, tore, shook, and hammered; and clang-bang, crash-crack, in five minutes they had these huge gates just lying in ruin; and some were already beginning to eat into the walls, like rabbits in a sand-pit."
Erestor smothered a yawn and allowed his mind to wander. Around mid-morning the King's company had come upon the two Hobbits sitting on rubble and blowing smoke-rings. Gandalf, Théoden, and the Rohirrim had gone to speak with Treebeard and the Ents, and Erestor, Aragorn, Legolas, and Gimli had stayed with the Hobbits. A good thing, I was fairly starved, Erestor thought with a grin. The Hobbits had discovered food in a guardroom and given their friends a good breakfast. Well, a better one than we have had in awhile.
"...The Ents had diverted the River Isen and every stream they could and then damned them. It must have been about midnight when they finally freed them. The water rushed in and steam billowed up everywhere. There we sat high above the floods and watched the drowning of Isengard. The Ents kept on pouring in more water, till all the fires were quenched and every cave filled. The fogs slowly gathered together and steamed up into a huge umbrella of cloud: it must have been a mile high. In the evening there was a great rainbow over the eastern hills; and then the sunset was blotted out by a thick drizzle on the mountain-sides. It all went very quiet. A few wolves howled mournfully, far away..."
The wolves! Elwing started acting funny as soon as she heard the wolves, Erestor mused. I wonder what was wrong, and where she went. And when will she back? With this thought Erestor sat up and looked uneasily back the way they had come. Legolas saw his glance and came and sat next to him. The others did not notice and kept talking.
"She will return," Legolas said quietly.
"I know, but the question is, when?" Erestor asked, slightly annoyed. "She is forever running off and doing something foolish."
Legolas looked at him closely. "Forever? If my guesses are correct, you and her did not see much of each other before coming to Middle-Earth."
Erestor fidgeted. "Well, no. I mean, I saw her, at school and the like, but I never really spoke to her."
"And yet you can guess at her character," Legolas said, almost to himself.
Erestor snorted. "If you spend nearly every day with someone for four months, you begin to see patterns in their character."
"But you cannot learn everything about a person in a mere four months," Legolas said gently. "I believe Elwing will surprise us all. She has a great destiny."
Erestor glanced at the Elf next to him. "Destiny," he murmured. "I wonder what destiny is. I mean, what is so special about Elwing that gives her a great destiny?"
Legolas looked at him in surprise. "But she will break the Fate of the Sunstars! That is a greater destiny than any Elf can hope for!"
Erestor frowned. "Fate of the Sunstars? What is that?"
Legolas' eyes widened. She has not told him? But why on Arda not? Realization dawned on Legolas, and his heart was filled with sadness.
"Legolas? What is the Fate of the Sunstars?"
"If she is not told you then it is not my place to say," he said quietly, not meeting Erestor's gaze.
"Legolas, what are you talking about?" Erestor asked, slightly concerned.
"Nothing," the Elf prince muttered.
"Let us go look round!" Merry said, forcing Erestor to give up his interrogation for the time being. "You can enter Isengard now at any rate, if you want to. But it is not a very cheerful sight."
They passed through the ruined tunnel and stood upon a heap of stones, gazing at the dark rock of Orthanc, and its many windows, a menace still in the desolation that lay all about it. The waters had now nearly all subsided. Here and there gloomy pools remained, covered with scum and wreakage; but most of the wide circle was bare again, a wilderness of slime and tumbled rock, pitted with blackened holes, and dotted with posts and pillars leaning drunkenly this way and that. At the rim of the shatted bowl there lay vast mounds and slopes, like the shingles cast up by a great storm; and beyond them the green and tangled valley ran up into the long ravine between the dark arms of the mountains. Across the waste they saw the riders picking their way; they were coming from the north side, and already they were drawing near to Orthanc.
"There is Gandalf, and Théoden and his men!" said Legolas. "Let us go and meet them!"
"Walk warily!" said Merry. "There are loose slabs that may tilt up and throw you down into a pit, if you don't take care."
They followed what was left of the road from the gates to Orthanc, going slowly, for the flag-stones were cracked and slimed. The riders, seeing them approach, halted under the shadow of the rock and waited for them. Gandalf rode forward to meet them.
"Well, Treebeard and I have had some interesting discussions, and made a few plans," he said; "and we have all had some much-needed rest. Now we must be going on again. I hope you companions have all rested, too, and refreshed yourselves?"
"We have," said Merry. "But our discussions began and ended in smoke. Still we feel less ill-disposed towards Saruman than we did."
"Do you indeed?" said Gandalf. "Well, I do not. I have now a last task to do before I go: I must pay Saruman a farewell visit. Dangerous, and probably useless; but it must be done. Those of you who wish may come with me - but beware! And do not jest! This is not the time for it."
"I will come," said Gimli. "I wish to see him and learn if he really looks like you."
"And how will you learn that, Master Dwarf?" said Gandalf. "Saruman could look like me in your eyes, if it suited his purpose with you. And are you yet wise enough to detect all his counterfeits? Well, we shall see, perhaps. He may be shy of showing himself before many different eyes together. But I have ordered the Ents to remove themselves from sight, so perhaps we shall persuade him to come out."
"What's the danger?" asked Pippin. "Will he shoot at us, and pour fire out of the windows; or can he put a spell on us from a distance?"
"The last is most likely, if you ride to his door with a light heart," said Gandalf. "But there is no knowing what he can do, or may choose to try. A wild beast cornered is not safe to approach. And Saruman has powers you do not guess. Beware of his voice!"
They came now to the foot of Orthanc. It was black, and the rock gleamed as if it were wet. The many faces of the stone had sharp edges as though they had been newly chisled. A few scorings, and small flake-like splinters near the base, were all the marks that it bore of the fury of the Ents.
On the eastern side, in the angle of two piers, there was a great door, high above the ground; and over it was a shuttered window, opening upon a balcony hedged with iron bars. Up to the threshold of the door there mounted a flight of twenty-seven broad stairs, hewn by some unknown art of the same black stone. This was the only entrance to the tower; but many tall windows were cut with deep embrasures in the climbing walls: far up they peered like little eyes in the sheer faces of the horns.
At the foot of the stairs Gandalf and the king dismounted. "I will go up," said Gandalf. "I have been in Orthanc and I know my peril."
"And I will go up," said the king. "I am old, and fear no peril any more. I wish to speak with the enemy who has done me so much wrong. Éomer shall come with me, and see that my aged feet do not falter."
"As you will," said Gandalf. "Aragorn shall come with me. Let the others await us at the foot of the stairs. They will hear and see enough, if there is anything to hear or see."
"Nay!" said Gimli. "Legolas and I wish for a closer view. We alone here represent our kindreds. We also shall come behind."
"Come then!" said Gandalf, and with that he climbed the steps, and Théoden went beside him.
The Riders of Rohan sat uneasily upon their horses, on either side of the stair, and looked up darkly at the great tower, fearing what might befall their lord. Erestor stood at the foot of stairs, glancing uneasily at the tower.
Gandalf stood before the door of Orthanc and beat on it with his staff. It rang with a hollow sound. "Saruman, Saruman!" he cried in a loud commanding voice. "Saruman come forth!"
For some time there was no answer. At last the window above the door was unbarred, but no figure could be seen at its dark opening.
"Who is it?" said a voice. "What do you wish?"
Théoden started. "I know that voice," he said, "and I curse the day when I first listened to it."
"Go and fetch Saruman, since you have become his footman, Gríma Wormtongue!" said Gandalf. "And do not waste our time!"
The window closed. They waited. Suddenly another voice spoke, low and melodious, its very sound an enchantment. Those who listened unwarily to that voice could seldom report the words that they heard; and if they could, they wondered, for little power remained in them. Mostly they remembered only that it was a delight to hear the voice speaking, all that it said seemed wise and resonable, and desire woke in them by swift agreement to seem wise themselves. When others spoke they seemed harsh and uncouth by contrast; and if they gainsaid the voice, anger was kindled in the hearts of those under the spell. For some the spell lasted only while the voice spoke to them, and when it spoke to another they smiled, as men do who see through a juggler's trick while others gape at it. For many the sound of the voice alone was enough to hold them enthralled; but for those whom it conquered the spell endured when they were far away, and ever they heard that soft voice whispering and urging them. But none were unmoved; none rejected its pleas and commands without an effort of mind and will, so long as its master had control of it.
"Well?" it said now with a gentle question. "Why must you disturb my rest? Will you give me no peace at all by night or day?" Its tone was that of a kindly heart aggrieved by injuries undeserved.
They looked up, astonished, for they had heard no sound of his coming; and they saw a figure standing at the rail, looking down upon them: an old man, swathed in a great cloak, the color of which was not easy to tell, for it changed if they moved their eyes or if he stirred. His face was long, with a high forehead, he had deep darkling eyes, hard to fathom, though the look they now bore was grave and benevolent, and a little weary. His hair and beard were white, but strands of black still showed about his lips and ears.
"Like, and yet unlike," muttered Gimli.
"But come now," said the soft voice. "Two at least of you I know by name. Gandalf I know too well to have much hope that he seeks help or counsel here. But you, Théoden Lord of the Mark of Rohan, are declared by your noble devices, and still more by the fair countenance of the house of Eorl. O worthy son of Thengel the Thrice-renowned! Why have you not come before, and as a friend? Much have I desired to see you, mightiest king of western lands, and especially in these latter years, to save you from the unwise and evil counsels that beset you! Is it yet too late? Despite the injuries that have been done to me, in which the men of Rohan, alas! have had some part, still I would save you, and deliver you from the ruin that draws nigh inevitably, if you ride upon this road which you have taken. Indeed I alone can aid you now."
Théoden opened his mouth as if to speak, but he said nothing. He looked up at the face of Saruman with its dark solemn eyes bent down upon him, and then to Gandalf at his side; and he seemed to hesitate. Gandalf made no sign; but stood silent as stone, as one waiting patiently for some call that has not yet come. The Riders stirred at first, murmuring with approval for the words of Saruman; and then they too were silent, as men spell-bound. It seemed to them that Gandalf had never spoken so fair and fittingly to their lord. Rough and proud now seemed all his dealings with Théoden. And over their hearts crept a shadow, the fear of a great danger: the end of the Mark in a darkness to which Gandalf was driving them, while Saruman stood beside a door of escape, holding it half open so that a ray of light came through. Few contested the power of Saruman, and Erestor was one of them.
He is a sly fool, but still a fool, Erestor thought grimly. I hope Théoden has the will to resist him. And I wonder where on Arda Elwing has got to?
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Elwing stood on a hill, the wind blowing through her hair. Alagos stood nearby, nibbling the long green grass. I know I should go to Isengard, but I haven't had time to myself in so long... She glanced towards the ring of Isengard, just visible from where she stood. She turned away with a sigh.
"Come on, Alagos, I don't want to miss anything interesting."
Leaving the grass reluctantly, Alagos stood still as Elwing climbed onto his back with the aid of a rock. I wish I was taller, she sighed. "Alright Alagos, let's go."
The stallion leapt forward, his powerful hooves scarcely touching the ground as he raced towards the tower of Orthanc. I wonder what they're doing now...
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Erestor winced as Saruman finally lost his temper and spoke harshly and beratingly to Théoden and the Riders. But then the crafty wizard turned to Gandalf.
"Gandalf, I bear you no ill-will; and even now I bear you none, though you come in the company of the violent and the ignorant. How should I? Are we not both members of a high and ancient order, most excellent in Middle-Earth? Our friendship would profit us both alike. Much we could still accomplish together, to heal the disorders of the world. Let us understand one another, and dismiss from thought these lesser folk! Let them wait on our decisions! For the common good I am willing to redress the past, and to receive you. Will you not consult with me? Will you not come up?"
So great was the power that Saruman exerted in this last effort that none that stood within hearing were unmoved. But now the spell was different. They heard the gentle remonstrance of a kindly king with an erring but much-loved minister. But they were shut out, listening at a door to words not meant for them: ill-mannered children or stupid servants overhearing exclusive discourse of their elders, and wondering how it would affect their lot. Of loftier mold these two were made: reverend and wise. It was inevitable that they should make allience. Gandalf would ascend into the tower, to discuss deep things beyond their comprehension in the high chambers of Orthanc. The door would be closed, and they would be left outside, dismissed to await allotted work or punishment. Even in the mind of Théoden the thought took shape, like a shadow of doubt: 'He will betray us; he will go - we shall be lost.'
Then Gandalf laughed. The fantasy vanished like a puff of smoke.
"Saruman, Saruman!" said Gandalf, still laughing. "Saruman, you missed your path in life. You should have been the king's jester and earned your bread, and your stripes too, by mimicking his counsellors. Ah me!" he paused, getting the better of his mirth. "Understand one another? I fear I am beyond your comprehension. But you, Saruman, I understand now too well. I keep a clearer memory of your arguements, and deeds, than you suppose. When last I visited you, you were the jailor of Mordor, and there I was to be sent. Nay, the guest who has escaped from the roof, will think twice before he comes back in by the door. But listen, Saruman, for the last time! Will you not come down? Isengard has proved less strong than your hope and fancy made it. So may other things in which you still have trust. Would it not be well to leave it for a while? To turn to new things, perhaps? Think well, Saruman! Will you not come down?"
A shadow passed over Saruman's face; then it went deathly white. Before he could conceal it, they saw through the mask the anguish of a mind in doubt, loathing to stay and dreading to leave its refuge. For a second he hesitated, and no one breathed. Then he spoke, and his voice was shrill and cold. Pride and hate were conquering him.
"Will I come down?" he mocked. "Does an unarmed man come down to speak with robbers out of doors? I can hear you well enough here. I am no fool, and I do not trust you, Gandalf. They do not stand openly on my stairs, but I know where the wild wood-demons are lurking, at your command."
"The treacherous are ever distrustful," answered Gandalf wearily. "But you need not fear for your skin. I do not wish to kill you, or hurt you, as you would know, if you really understood me. And I have the power to protect you. I am giving you a last chance. You can leave Orthanc, free - if you choose."
"That sounds well," sneered Saruman. "Very much the manner of Gandalf the Grey: so condescending, and so very kind. I do not doubt that you would find Orthanc commodious, and my departure convenient. But why should I wish to leave? And what do you mean by 'Free'? There are conditions, I presume?"
"Reasons for leaving you can see from your windows," answered Gandalf. "Others will occur to your thought. Your servants are destroyed and scattered; your neighbors you have made your enemies; and you have cheated your new master, or tried to do so. When his eye turns hither, it will be the red eye of wrath. But when I say 'free', I mean 'free': free from bond, of chain or command: to go where you will, even, even to Mordor, Saruman, if you desire. But you will first surrender to me the Key of Orthanc, and your staff. They shall be pledges of your conduct, to be returned later, if you merit them."
Saruman's face grew livid, twisted with rage, and a red light was kindled in his eyes. He laughed wildly. "Later!" he cried, and his voice rose to a scream. "Later! yes, when you also have the Keys of Barad-dûr itself, I suppose; and the crowns of the seven kings, and the rods of the Five Wizards, and have purchased yourself a pair of boots many sizes larger than those that you wear now. A modest plan. Hardly one in which my help is needed! I have other things to do. Do not be a fool. If you wish to treat with me, while you have a chance, go away, and come back when you are sober! And leave behind these cut-throats and small rag-tag that dangle at your tail! Good day!" He turned to go.
Suddenly a laugh rang through the air. It was a gentle laugh, but it also contained a chill that caused Saruman to shiver. There, behind the Riders, sat Elwing upon a great black stallion, laughing still. She had come upon them unawares, and now even Saruman gazed at her in surprise.
"And I thought wizards were smart!" she laughed. "Saruman, you have been offered freedom yet you choose captivity! Will you not listen to Gandalf's counsel? It is better than anything else you can choose."
Saruman's eyes narrowed and glinted with anger. "Who are you that you should tell me what to do?" he shrieked. "You would be wise to hold your tongue, girl! You know not who it is you insult!"
"I know well with whom I speak," she said coldly, and there was a fierce sternness in her eyes. "Saruman the White... or should I say, Saruman the Many-Colored? You were great once, but you have fallen into folly. You will not be given another chance: repent, while you still can."
Everyone stared at her in amazement, for never had they heard her speak with such grace and authority. Saruman quivered, surprise and anger playing across his face. Suddenly a murderous light leapt into his eyes and he raised his staff, but nothing happened. Shocked, he tried to move, but found he could not.
"Your tricks are useless Saruman," Elwing sneered, releasing the wizard from her spell. "You have nothing left, will you still hide in your tower?"
Anger flashed in Saruman's eyes. "I do not hide! You are the ones who should come to me! But now you shall never receive me help! Be gone!" With that he spun and left the balcony.
"Come back, Saruman," Gandalf said in a commanding voice. To the amazement of the others, Saruman turned again, and as if dragged against his will, he came slowly back to the iron rail, leaning on it, breathing hard. His face was lined and shrunken. His hand clutched his heavy black staff like a claw.
"I did not give you leave to go," Gandalf said sternly. "I have not finished. Elwing is right, you have become a fool, Saruman, and yet pitiable. Twice now you have been given the chance to turn away from folly and evil, and been of service. But you choose to stay and gnaw the ends of your old plots. Stay then! But I warn you, you will not easily come out again. Not unless the dark hands of the East stretch out to take you. Saruman!" he cried, and his voice grew in power and authority. "Behold, I am not Gandalf the Grey, whom you betrayed. I am Gandalf the White, who has returned from death. You have no color now, and I cast you from the order and from the Council."
He raised his hand, and spoke slowly in a clear cold voice. "Saruman, your staff is broken." There was a crack, and the staff split asunder in Saruman's hand, and the head of it fell down at Gandalf's feet. "Go!" said Gandalf. With a cry Saruman fell back and crawled away. At that moment a heavy shining thing came hurtling down from above. It glanced off the iron rail, even as Saruman left it, and passing close to Gandalf's head, it smote the stair on which he stood. The rail rang and snapped; the stair cracked and splintered in glittering sparks; but the ball was unharmed. It rolled on down the steps, a globe of crystal, dark, but glowing with a heart of fire. As it bounded away towards a pool Pippin ran after it and picked it up.
"The murderous rouge!" cried Éomer. But Gandalf was unmoved. "No, that was not thrown by Saruman," he said; "nor even at his bidding, I think. It came from a window far above. A parting shot from Master Wormtongue, I fancy, but ill aimed."
"The aim was poor, maybe, because he could not make up his mind which he hated more, you or Saruman," said Aragorn.
"That may be so," said Gandalf. "Small comfort will those two have in their companionship: they will gnaw one another with words. But the punishment is just. If Wormtongue ever comes out of Orthanc alive, it will be more than he deserves.
"Here, my lad, I'll take that! I did not ask you to handle it," he cried, turning sharply and seeing Pippin coming up the steps, slowly, as if he were bearing a great weight. He went down to meet him and hastily took the dark globe from the hobbit, wrapping it in the folds of his cloak. "I will take care of this," he said. "It is not a thing that Saruman would have chose to cast away."
"But he may have other things to cast," said Gimli. "If that is the end of the debate, let us go out of stone's throw, at least!"
"It is the end," said Gandalf. "Let us go."
They turned their backs on the doors of Orthanc, and went down. The riders hailed the king with joy, and saluted Gandalf. The spell of Saruman was broken: they had seen him come at call, and crawl away, dismissed.
"Well, that is done," said Gandalf. "Now I must find Treebeard and tell him how things have gone."
"He will have guessed, surely?" said Merry. "Were they likely to end any other way?"
"Not likely," answered Gandalf, "though they came to the balance of a hair. But I had reasons for trying; some merciful and some less so. First Saruman was shown that the power of his voice was waning. He cannot be both tyrant and counselor. When the plot is ripe it remains no longer secret. Yet he fell into the trap, and tried to deal with his victims piece-meal, while others listened. Then I, and Elwing, gave him a last choice and a fair one: to renounce both Mordor and his private schemes, and make amends by helping us in our need. He knows our need, none better. Great service he could have rendered. But he has chosen to withhold it, and keep the power of Orthanc. He will not serve, only command. He lives now in terror of the shadow of Mordor, and yet he still dreams of riding the storm. Unhappy fool! He will be devoured, if the power of the East stretches out its arms to Isengard. We cannot destroy Orthanc from without, but Sauron - who knows what he can do?"
"And what if Sauron does not conquer? What will you do to him?" asked Pippin.
"I? Nothing!" said Gandalf. "I will do nothing to him. I do not wish for mastery. What will become of him? I cannot say. I grieve that so much that was good now festers in the tower. Still for us things have not gone badly. Strange are the turns of fortune! Often does hatred hurt itself! I fancy that, even if we had entered in, we could have found few treasures in Orthanc more precious that the thing which Wormtongue threw down to us."
A shrill shriek, suddenly cut off, came from an open window high above.
"It seems that Saruman thinks so too," Gandalf said with a grim chuckle. "Let us leave them!"
They turned back and walked to where Elwing stood beside Alagos, a sheepish look on her face. "I am sorry, Mithrandir, I could not help myself," she said timidly.
Gandalf smiled. "Nay, I am glad you did that, for it showed Saruman that he is not strong as he presumes himself to be."
"Yet I wonder where you came upon this horse," Théoden said with a wry smile. "I know it as well as I know his father, except that I never rode Windstorm."
Elwing's face turned red and she dropped her eyes. "I found him at the Fords, and Windchaser was tired, so I borrowed him. I hope you do not mind."
Théoden looked at Alagos with a sad smile. "No, I do not mind. You may borrow him for as long as you like."
"Come, I must find Treebeard," Gandalf said, striding towards the gate. Hardly had they passed out under the arch, when, from among the shadows of the piled stones where they had stood, Treebeard and a dozen other Ents came striding up. Aragorn, Gimli, Legolas, Erestor, and Elwing gazed at them in wonder.
"Here are five of my companions, Treebeard," said Gandalf. "I have spoken of them, but you have not yet seen them." He named them one by one.
The Old Ent looked at them long and searchingly, and spoke to them in turn. Last he turned to Elwing.
"I have heard much about you, and would like very much to speak with you, but Gandalf says you must go ere nightfall."
Elwing smiled and bowed slightly. "I would like very much to speak to you as well, Treebeard. Perhaps there will be time for that yet."
The Ent looked at her thoughtfully. "Ho, hoom, perhaps, perhaps. But alas, day is drawing to an end, and the Lord of the Mark is eager for his own house.""
"Yes, I am sorry, Treebeard, but we must go, and go now," said Gandalf. "I fear that I must take your gatekeepers from you. But you will manage well enough without them."
"Maybe I shall," said Treebeard. "But I shall miss them. We have become friends in so short a while that I think I must be getting hasty - growing backwards towards youth, perhaps. But there, they are the first new thing under Sun or Moon that I have seen for many a long, long day. I shall not forget them. I have put their names in the Long List. Ents will remember it.
Ents the earthborn, old as mountains,
the wide-walkers, water drinking;
and hungry as hunters, the Hobbit children,
the laughing-folk, the little people,
they shall remain friends as long as leaves are renewed. Fare you well! But if you hear news up in your pleasant land, in the Shire, send me word! You know what I mean: word or sight of the Entwives. Come yourselves if you can."
"We will," said Merry and Pippin together, and they turned away hastily. Treebeard looked at them, and was silent for a while, shaking his head thoughtfully. Then he turned to Gandalf.
"So Saruman would not leave?" he said. "I did not think he would. His heart is as rotten as a black Huron's..."
Elwing stifled a yawn as Treebeard and Gandalf talked. She had not gotten much sleep, and it was all she could do to keep herself from falling over. To make things worse, Erestor walked up, and he did not appear to be in a particularly good mood.
"Not now," Elwing groaned, but Erestor did not appear to hear her.
"You have a lot of explaining to do," he hissed under his breath so that the others could not hear.
"Not now," Elwing growled.
"Then when?" Erestor snapped. "You keep putting things off and leaving things out, and it is getting very annoying!"
Elwing gave him a cold look, but they were interrupted by Gandalf's ordered to mount. The Riders mounted just as the sun was sinking, and they set out again from Isengard. Gandalf took Merry behind him, and Aragon took Pippin. Two of the king's men went on ahead, riding swiftly, and passed soon out of sight down into the valley. The others followed at an easy pace.
Elwing rode beside Éomer, and Erestor rode a ways behind them alongside Legolas and Gimli. Éomer talked amiably with Elwing, trying to cheer her up, for he could tell she was upset about something.
"I am not completely surprised that King Théoden gave you Windstorm, and perhaps it is better that way," the man of Rohan said. "Windstorm belonged to Théodred, Théoden's son. Théodred did not ride Windstorm to battle because he was too reckless a horse and untrained in the ways of war. A bit of time, though, and he shall make a fine warhorse."
Elwing said nothing but stared straight ahead. Éomer looked at her with a concerned frown on his face. "Lady Swiftfire, will you not tell me what is wrong?"
Elwing stirred and turned to him. "Hm? Oh, sorry Éomer, I was just thinking."
"What could you be thinking about that would trouble you so?" he asked quietly.
Elwing sighed and glanced behind her. Erestor rode with his face toward the setting sun, apparently indifferent to her glance or very presence. "Nothing," she murmured, turning back around.
"You should talk with him," Éomer said softly.
Elwing looked up, startled. "What?"
"Erestor, you need to talk with him, for it obvious that your misery has something to do with him."
Elwing sighed. "It is that obvious?"
"Well, Erestor's foul mood helped a bit," Éomer said with a grin.
Elwing smiled. "Thank you, Éomer. Tell Gandalf we shall catch up to the Riders later."
"I will, milady."
Elwing turned Alagos and trotted back to Erestor. "Do you still want to talk?"
Erestor looked at her skeptically. "Are you serious?" Elwing nodded. "Very well."
Turning their horses the two of them trotted across the plains, not back towards Isengard, but rather towards the Anduin, though they would not be going that far. When they had rode for a while in silence, and the sun had all but disappeared, they slowed their horses to a walk.
"All right, talk."
Elwing frowned. "I believe you are the one who should talk first, you seem to have a lot of attitude to get off your chest."
Erestor glared at her angrily and opened his mouth, but swiftly closed it and looked away. "It's just that... oh nevermind."
Elwing stared at him. "Nevermind? You bring me out here just to say nevermind? I don't think so! Now talk!"
Erestor sighed and glanced at Elwing. The last rays of the setting sun fell upon her face, bringing out red and gold streaks in her bronze-blonde hair. Her hazel eyes watched him expectantly. What am I supposed to say? Erestor thought miserably. "You have your secrets, I have mine," he murmured at last.
Elwing frowned. "Secrets? What do you mean?"
"Well, Legolas said something about 'the Fate of Sunstars.' I would like to know what that is."
Elwing's face paled slightly. "He did not tell you what it is, did he?"
"If he did I would not be asking, now would I?" Erestor said, rolling his eyes.
Elwing sighed in relief and turned away. "Trust me Erestor, you don't want to know."
"No, Elwing. For once, trust me. What is the Fate of Sunstars?"
She did not answer right away, but gazed at the last line of sun, barely visible above the horizon. "Death," she murmured at last.
Erestor jumped and stared at her, thinking he had not heard her right. "What did you say?"
"Death," she repeated, slightly louder. "The Fate of all Sunstars is to die. There, happy you know?"
Erestor just stared at her as a tear slipped down her cheek. "I think you will need to tell me more," he whispered.
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"Something is troubling you, my friend," Gimli said, trying to take his mind off the horse's bouncy gait. Legolas did not reply, but his gaze drifted towards the distant figures of Elwing and Erestor. "What has Elwing done now?" Gimli laughed.
"It is rather what she has not done that worries me," Legolas said with a concerned frown.
Gimli forgot his humor at once, for rarely did Legolas sound worried. "What is it?"
Legolas sighed. "She has not told Erestor about the Fate of Sunstars."
Gimli frowned. "Fate of Sunstars? I know nothing of it."
"Few besides the Elves know of it at all," Legolas said dismally. "The Sunstars are the most powerful of all the Elves, even more powerful than the Noldor. Long ago Sauron tried to deceive them, but they were wise enough to see through his lies. Sauron was so angered that he lay a curse on all the kings and queens of the Sunstars. At one point in their lives, Sauron would lure them to his lair, and there they would meet there death."
Gimli frowned further in confusion. "But why would Sauron lure them one by one? Why not kill them all? And why would the Sunstars come if they knew they would die?"
"Sauron had to lure them one by one because he could not face them all at once," Legolas explained. "Also, he never gave up his desire to turn a Sunstar to his side. The rulers of the Sunstars are the most powerful and he hoped that one would be weak enough in spirit to join him. The Sunstars knew all this, but they were forced to come. If they did not, Sauron would slaughter their families and other innocents until he had his way."
"But if Sauron wants them to join him, why does he kill them?"
Legolas said nothing, and Gimli was beginning to wonder if he had heard him when, "He doesn't."
Gimli looked up at his friend in shock. "What do you mean Sauron doesn't kill them? You said they die..."
"They do die, but not by Sauron's hand," Legolas said, his voice so soft it was almost a whisper. "Sauron takes pleasure in others' suffering, he would never end their lives easily. Especially not a Sunstar, for they would all fall to his will, if they were given enough time."
Gimli sat quietly thinking. Realization began to grow on him, and he looked back at Legolas, eyes large with disbelief. "You don't mean..." Legolas nodded. Gimli turned back around in shock. "Then... the Fate of Sunstars... is to die..."
"By their own hand," Legolas finished.
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Erestor sat astride Iceriver, staring at Elwing in shock. She had told him the Fate of the Sunstars, but he still could not believe it. At last he said, "But you will break the curse, right? You will defy the Fate of Sunstars?"
Elwing laughed bitterly. "In a way. You see, the Fate of the Sunstars will be broken in the time of my coming, but that doesn't mean I will be the one to break it."
Erestor frowned. "What do you mean?"
"Think, how can you break the curse? Get rid of Sauron, right? Well, what will happen when Frodo throws the Ring into the Cracks of Doom?"
Comprehension dawned in Erestor's eyes. "So it is actually Frodo who will break the curse." Elwing nodded. "So... you will still evade it, right? I mean, it's what, March 5?* Just twenty-one days and you will be free!" Elwing did not move. "Elwing?" No response. "Elwing?"
Erestor stretched out his hand to nudge her, but suddenly a sound caught his attention. She was crying! "Elwing?" he said gently, his voice carrying a slight note of pleading. Elwing turned to him and he could see clearly that she was crying. "Elwing, you will escape this, right?"
A sob escaped Elwing's throat and she quickly turned Alagos and galloped off in the direction of Orthanc. "Elwing!" Wheeling Iceriver about, Erestor raced after her.
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The Riders of Rohan had made camp, but Legolas and Gimli did not yet turn in.
"Are you sure she did not tell him?"
"Yes, Gimli!"
"I am sorry, I just do not understand why she would not tell him."
Silence.
"Legolas?"
More silence.
"Legolas, do you know why she has not told him?"
The Elf prince shifted uncomfortably. "I have a guess."
"And...?"
"I think she loves him."
Gimli stared at Legolas in shock, but then, as he thought about it, the Elf's notion did not sound as crazy as Gimli had initially thought. Indeed, now I would say that I would guess that to be the reason as well. It is clear she is fond of him...
"Do you think she will tell him?"
"Of her Fate? Perhaps. That she loves him? .... I cannot say. I do not think so, though it will be all the worse for her."
"What do you mean?" Gimli asked, his eyelids starting to droop despite himself.
"If you knew you were going to die, would you not prefer to go to death with a clear conscience?"
Gimli merely grunted in response, lying down with his head on his pack. "Well, I would also prefer to go to sleep untroubled, but it does not appear that my wish will come true this night."
Legolas smiled slightly. "Go to sleep, my friend. There is nothing we can do."
"But I am sure there is someone who can."
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Erestor pulled Iceriver to a stop, peering into the gloom ahead of him. Alagos was faster than Erestor's steed and Elwing had long past from sight. But I do know she is going towards Orthanc. I wonder why.... wait, Treebeard! She must be going to talk to him... perhaps I should let her be for awhile. Actually, I could use some time alone as well. Erestor sighed and turned Iceriver towards Fangorn. I need some time to think... and a psychiatrist wouldn't hurt either...
* March 5 - the Ring is destroyed on March 26.
End Chapter 32
Rrrrrr! This chapter did not come out at all like I had planned!! A curse upon characters who demand to do things their own way!! **sigh** Oh well... please review, I need feedback. If you dislike it, please tell me why, and I shall do my best to improve upon it. I am really just rushing to finish it so I can rewrite it and fix things, so feedback is very much appreciated. **ArwenStar**
Chapter 32: Teasing Wizards and the Truth of Fate
Erestor lay on a pile of rubble, dozing in the warm sunshine as Merry and Pippin talked about the destruction of Isengard.
"As soon as Saruman's army was gone, Treebeard put us down and went up to the gates, and began hammering on the doors, and calling for Saruman," Merry said. "There was no answer, except arrows and stones from the walls. But arrows are no use against Ents. They hurt them, of course, and infuriate them: like stinging flies. But an Ent can be stuck as full of orc-arrows as a pincushion, and take no serious harm. They cannot be poisoned, for one thing; and their skin seems to be very thick, and tougher than bark. It takes a very heavy axe-stroke to wound them seriously. They don't like axes. But there would have to be a great many axe-men to one Ent: a man that hacks once at an Ent never gets a chance of a second blow. A punch from an Ent-fist crumples up iron like thin tin."
"When Treebeard had got a few arrows in him, he began to warm up, to get positively 'hasty', as he would say," Pippin continued. "He let out a great hoom-hom, and a dozen more Ents came striding up. An angry Ent is terrifying. Their fingers, and their toes, just freeze onto rock; and they tear it up like bread-crust. It was like watching the work of great tree-roots in a hundred years, all packed into a few moments.
"They pushed, pulled, tore, shook, and hammered; and clang-bang, crash-crack, in five minutes they had these huge gates just lying in ruin; and some were already beginning to eat into the walls, like rabbits in a sand-pit."
Erestor smothered a yawn and allowed his mind to wander. Around mid-morning the King's company had come upon the two Hobbits sitting on rubble and blowing smoke-rings. Gandalf, Théoden, and the Rohirrim had gone to speak with Treebeard and the Ents, and Erestor, Aragorn, Legolas, and Gimli had stayed with the Hobbits. A good thing, I was fairly starved, Erestor thought with a grin. The Hobbits had discovered food in a guardroom and given their friends a good breakfast. Well, a better one than we have had in awhile.
"...The Ents had diverted the River Isen and every stream they could and then damned them. It must have been about midnight when they finally freed them. The water rushed in and steam billowed up everywhere. There we sat high above the floods and watched the drowning of Isengard. The Ents kept on pouring in more water, till all the fires were quenched and every cave filled. The fogs slowly gathered together and steamed up into a huge umbrella of cloud: it must have been a mile high. In the evening there was a great rainbow over the eastern hills; and then the sunset was blotted out by a thick drizzle on the mountain-sides. It all went very quiet. A few wolves howled mournfully, far away..."
The wolves! Elwing started acting funny as soon as she heard the wolves, Erestor mused. I wonder what was wrong, and where she went. And when will she back? With this thought Erestor sat up and looked uneasily back the way they had come. Legolas saw his glance and came and sat next to him. The others did not notice and kept talking.
"She will return," Legolas said quietly.
"I know, but the question is, when?" Erestor asked, slightly annoyed. "She is forever running off and doing something foolish."
Legolas looked at him closely. "Forever? If my guesses are correct, you and her did not see much of each other before coming to Middle-Earth."
Erestor fidgeted. "Well, no. I mean, I saw her, at school and the like, but I never really spoke to her."
"And yet you can guess at her character," Legolas said, almost to himself.
Erestor snorted. "If you spend nearly every day with someone for four months, you begin to see patterns in their character."
"But you cannot learn everything about a person in a mere four months," Legolas said gently. "I believe Elwing will surprise us all. She has a great destiny."
Erestor glanced at the Elf next to him. "Destiny," he murmured. "I wonder what destiny is. I mean, what is so special about Elwing that gives her a great destiny?"
Legolas looked at him in surprise. "But she will break the Fate of the Sunstars! That is a greater destiny than any Elf can hope for!"
Erestor frowned. "Fate of the Sunstars? What is that?"
Legolas' eyes widened. She has not told him? But why on Arda not? Realization dawned on Legolas, and his heart was filled with sadness.
"Legolas? What is the Fate of the Sunstars?"
"If she is not told you then it is not my place to say," he said quietly, not meeting Erestor's gaze.
"Legolas, what are you talking about?" Erestor asked, slightly concerned.
"Nothing," the Elf prince muttered.
"Let us go look round!" Merry said, forcing Erestor to give up his interrogation for the time being. "You can enter Isengard now at any rate, if you want to. But it is not a very cheerful sight."
They passed through the ruined tunnel and stood upon a heap of stones, gazing at the dark rock of Orthanc, and its many windows, a menace still in the desolation that lay all about it. The waters had now nearly all subsided. Here and there gloomy pools remained, covered with scum and wreakage; but most of the wide circle was bare again, a wilderness of slime and tumbled rock, pitted with blackened holes, and dotted with posts and pillars leaning drunkenly this way and that. At the rim of the shatted bowl there lay vast mounds and slopes, like the shingles cast up by a great storm; and beyond them the green and tangled valley ran up into the long ravine between the dark arms of the mountains. Across the waste they saw the riders picking their way; they were coming from the north side, and already they were drawing near to Orthanc.
"There is Gandalf, and Théoden and his men!" said Legolas. "Let us go and meet them!"
"Walk warily!" said Merry. "There are loose slabs that may tilt up and throw you down into a pit, if you don't take care."
They followed what was left of the road from the gates to Orthanc, going slowly, for the flag-stones were cracked and slimed. The riders, seeing them approach, halted under the shadow of the rock and waited for them. Gandalf rode forward to meet them.
"Well, Treebeard and I have had some interesting discussions, and made a few plans," he said; "and we have all had some much-needed rest. Now we must be going on again. I hope you companions have all rested, too, and refreshed yourselves?"
"We have," said Merry. "But our discussions began and ended in smoke. Still we feel less ill-disposed towards Saruman than we did."
"Do you indeed?" said Gandalf. "Well, I do not. I have now a last task to do before I go: I must pay Saruman a farewell visit. Dangerous, and probably useless; but it must be done. Those of you who wish may come with me - but beware! And do not jest! This is not the time for it."
"I will come," said Gimli. "I wish to see him and learn if he really looks like you."
"And how will you learn that, Master Dwarf?" said Gandalf. "Saruman could look like me in your eyes, if it suited his purpose with you. And are you yet wise enough to detect all his counterfeits? Well, we shall see, perhaps. He may be shy of showing himself before many different eyes together. But I have ordered the Ents to remove themselves from sight, so perhaps we shall persuade him to come out."
"What's the danger?" asked Pippin. "Will he shoot at us, and pour fire out of the windows; or can he put a spell on us from a distance?"
"The last is most likely, if you ride to his door with a light heart," said Gandalf. "But there is no knowing what he can do, or may choose to try. A wild beast cornered is not safe to approach. And Saruman has powers you do not guess. Beware of his voice!"
They came now to the foot of Orthanc. It was black, and the rock gleamed as if it were wet. The many faces of the stone had sharp edges as though they had been newly chisled. A few scorings, and small flake-like splinters near the base, were all the marks that it bore of the fury of the Ents.
On the eastern side, in the angle of two piers, there was a great door, high above the ground; and over it was a shuttered window, opening upon a balcony hedged with iron bars. Up to the threshold of the door there mounted a flight of twenty-seven broad stairs, hewn by some unknown art of the same black stone. This was the only entrance to the tower; but many tall windows were cut with deep embrasures in the climbing walls: far up they peered like little eyes in the sheer faces of the horns.
At the foot of the stairs Gandalf and the king dismounted. "I will go up," said Gandalf. "I have been in Orthanc and I know my peril."
"And I will go up," said the king. "I am old, and fear no peril any more. I wish to speak with the enemy who has done me so much wrong. Éomer shall come with me, and see that my aged feet do not falter."
"As you will," said Gandalf. "Aragorn shall come with me. Let the others await us at the foot of the stairs. They will hear and see enough, if there is anything to hear or see."
"Nay!" said Gimli. "Legolas and I wish for a closer view. We alone here represent our kindreds. We also shall come behind."
"Come then!" said Gandalf, and with that he climbed the steps, and Théoden went beside him.
The Riders of Rohan sat uneasily upon their horses, on either side of the stair, and looked up darkly at the great tower, fearing what might befall their lord. Erestor stood at the foot of stairs, glancing uneasily at the tower.
Gandalf stood before the door of Orthanc and beat on it with his staff. It rang with a hollow sound. "Saruman, Saruman!" he cried in a loud commanding voice. "Saruman come forth!"
For some time there was no answer. At last the window above the door was unbarred, but no figure could be seen at its dark opening.
"Who is it?" said a voice. "What do you wish?"
Théoden started. "I know that voice," he said, "and I curse the day when I first listened to it."
"Go and fetch Saruman, since you have become his footman, Gríma Wormtongue!" said Gandalf. "And do not waste our time!"
The window closed. They waited. Suddenly another voice spoke, low and melodious, its very sound an enchantment. Those who listened unwarily to that voice could seldom report the words that they heard; and if they could, they wondered, for little power remained in them. Mostly they remembered only that it was a delight to hear the voice speaking, all that it said seemed wise and resonable, and desire woke in them by swift agreement to seem wise themselves. When others spoke they seemed harsh and uncouth by contrast; and if they gainsaid the voice, anger was kindled in the hearts of those under the spell. For some the spell lasted only while the voice spoke to them, and when it spoke to another they smiled, as men do who see through a juggler's trick while others gape at it. For many the sound of the voice alone was enough to hold them enthralled; but for those whom it conquered the spell endured when they were far away, and ever they heard that soft voice whispering and urging them. But none were unmoved; none rejected its pleas and commands without an effort of mind and will, so long as its master had control of it.
"Well?" it said now with a gentle question. "Why must you disturb my rest? Will you give me no peace at all by night or day?" Its tone was that of a kindly heart aggrieved by injuries undeserved.
They looked up, astonished, for they had heard no sound of his coming; and they saw a figure standing at the rail, looking down upon them: an old man, swathed in a great cloak, the color of which was not easy to tell, for it changed if they moved their eyes or if he stirred. His face was long, with a high forehead, he had deep darkling eyes, hard to fathom, though the look they now bore was grave and benevolent, and a little weary. His hair and beard were white, but strands of black still showed about his lips and ears.
"Like, and yet unlike," muttered Gimli.
"But come now," said the soft voice. "Two at least of you I know by name. Gandalf I know too well to have much hope that he seeks help or counsel here. But you, Théoden Lord of the Mark of Rohan, are declared by your noble devices, and still more by the fair countenance of the house of Eorl. O worthy son of Thengel the Thrice-renowned! Why have you not come before, and as a friend? Much have I desired to see you, mightiest king of western lands, and especially in these latter years, to save you from the unwise and evil counsels that beset you! Is it yet too late? Despite the injuries that have been done to me, in which the men of Rohan, alas! have had some part, still I would save you, and deliver you from the ruin that draws nigh inevitably, if you ride upon this road which you have taken. Indeed I alone can aid you now."
Théoden opened his mouth as if to speak, but he said nothing. He looked up at the face of Saruman with its dark solemn eyes bent down upon him, and then to Gandalf at his side; and he seemed to hesitate. Gandalf made no sign; but stood silent as stone, as one waiting patiently for some call that has not yet come. The Riders stirred at first, murmuring with approval for the words of Saruman; and then they too were silent, as men spell-bound. It seemed to them that Gandalf had never spoken so fair and fittingly to their lord. Rough and proud now seemed all his dealings with Théoden. And over their hearts crept a shadow, the fear of a great danger: the end of the Mark in a darkness to which Gandalf was driving them, while Saruman stood beside a door of escape, holding it half open so that a ray of light came through. Few contested the power of Saruman, and Erestor was one of them.
He is a sly fool, but still a fool, Erestor thought grimly. I hope Théoden has the will to resist him. And I wonder where on Arda Elwing has got to?
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Elwing stood on a hill, the wind blowing through her hair. Alagos stood nearby, nibbling the long green grass. I know I should go to Isengard, but I haven't had time to myself in so long... She glanced towards the ring of Isengard, just visible from where she stood. She turned away with a sigh.
"Come on, Alagos, I don't want to miss anything interesting."
Leaving the grass reluctantly, Alagos stood still as Elwing climbed onto his back with the aid of a rock. I wish I was taller, she sighed. "Alright Alagos, let's go."
The stallion leapt forward, his powerful hooves scarcely touching the ground as he raced towards the tower of Orthanc. I wonder what they're doing now...
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Erestor winced as Saruman finally lost his temper and spoke harshly and beratingly to Théoden and the Riders. But then the crafty wizard turned to Gandalf.
"Gandalf, I bear you no ill-will; and even now I bear you none, though you come in the company of the violent and the ignorant. How should I? Are we not both members of a high and ancient order, most excellent in Middle-Earth? Our friendship would profit us both alike. Much we could still accomplish together, to heal the disorders of the world. Let us understand one another, and dismiss from thought these lesser folk! Let them wait on our decisions! For the common good I am willing to redress the past, and to receive you. Will you not consult with me? Will you not come up?"
So great was the power that Saruman exerted in this last effort that none that stood within hearing were unmoved. But now the spell was different. They heard the gentle remonstrance of a kindly king with an erring but much-loved minister. But they were shut out, listening at a door to words not meant for them: ill-mannered children or stupid servants overhearing exclusive discourse of their elders, and wondering how it would affect their lot. Of loftier mold these two were made: reverend and wise. It was inevitable that they should make allience. Gandalf would ascend into the tower, to discuss deep things beyond their comprehension in the high chambers of Orthanc. The door would be closed, and they would be left outside, dismissed to await allotted work or punishment. Even in the mind of Théoden the thought took shape, like a shadow of doubt: 'He will betray us; he will go - we shall be lost.'
Then Gandalf laughed. The fantasy vanished like a puff of smoke.
"Saruman, Saruman!" said Gandalf, still laughing. "Saruman, you missed your path in life. You should have been the king's jester and earned your bread, and your stripes too, by mimicking his counsellors. Ah me!" he paused, getting the better of his mirth. "Understand one another? I fear I am beyond your comprehension. But you, Saruman, I understand now too well. I keep a clearer memory of your arguements, and deeds, than you suppose. When last I visited you, you were the jailor of Mordor, and there I was to be sent. Nay, the guest who has escaped from the roof, will think twice before he comes back in by the door. But listen, Saruman, for the last time! Will you not come down? Isengard has proved less strong than your hope and fancy made it. So may other things in which you still have trust. Would it not be well to leave it for a while? To turn to new things, perhaps? Think well, Saruman! Will you not come down?"
A shadow passed over Saruman's face; then it went deathly white. Before he could conceal it, they saw through the mask the anguish of a mind in doubt, loathing to stay and dreading to leave its refuge. For a second he hesitated, and no one breathed. Then he spoke, and his voice was shrill and cold. Pride and hate were conquering him.
"Will I come down?" he mocked. "Does an unarmed man come down to speak with robbers out of doors? I can hear you well enough here. I am no fool, and I do not trust you, Gandalf. They do not stand openly on my stairs, but I know where the wild wood-demons are lurking, at your command."
"The treacherous are ever distrustful," answered Gandalf wearily. "But you need not fear for your skin. I do not wish to kill you, or hurt you, as you would know, if you really understood me. And I have the power to protect you. I am giving you a last chance. You can leave Orthanc, free - if you choose."
"That sounds well," sneered Saruman. "Very much the manner of Gandalf the Grey: so condescending, and so very kind. I do not doubt that you would find Orthanc commodious, and my departure convenient. But why should I wish to leave? And what do you mean by 'Free'? There are conditions, I presume?"
"Reasons for leaving you can see from your windows," answered Gandalf. "Others will occur to your thought. Your servants are destroyed and scattered; your neighbors you have made your enemies; and you have cheated your new master, or tried to do so. When his eye turns hither, it will be the red eye of wrath. But when I say 'free', I mean 'free': free from bond, of chain or command: to go where you will, even, even to Mordor, Saruman, if you desire. But you will first surrender to me the Key of Orthanc, and your staff. They shall be pledges of your conduct, to be returned later, if you merit them."
Saruman's face grew livid, twisted with rage, and a red light was kindled in his eyes. He laughed wildly. "Later!" he cried, and his voice rose to a scream. "Later! yes, when you also have the Keys of Barad-dûr itself, I suppose; and the crowns of the seven kings, and the rods of the Five Wizards, and have purchased yourself a pair of boots many sizes larger than those that you wear now. A modest plan. Hardly one in which my help is needed! I have other things to do. Do not be a fool. If you wish to treat with me, while you have a chance, go away, and come back when you are sober! And leave behind these cut-throats and small rag-tag that dangle at your tail! Good day!" He turned to go.
Suddenly a laugh rang through the air. It was a gentle laugh, but it also contained a chill that caused Saruman to shiver. There, behind the Riders, sat Elwing upon a great black stallion, laughing still. She had come upon them unawares, and now even Saruman gazed at her in surprise.
"And I thought wizards were smart!" she laughed. "Saruman, you have been offered freedom yet you choose captivity! Will you not listen to Gandalf's counsel? It is better than anything else you can choose."
Saruman's eyes narrowed and glinted with anger. "Who are you that you should tell me what to do?" he shrieked. "You would be wise to hold your tongue, girl! You know not who it is you insult!"
"I know well with whom I speak," she said coldly, and there was a fierce sternness in her eyes. "Saruman the White... or should I say, Saruman the Many-Colored? You were great once, but you have fallen into folly. You will not be given another chance: repent, while you still can."
Everyone stared at her in amazement, for never had they heard her speak with such grace and authority. Saruman quivered, surprise and anger playing across his face. Suddenly a murderous light leapt into his eyes and he raised his staff, but nothing happened. Shocked, he tried to move, but found he could not.
"Your tricks are useless Saruman," Elwing sneered, releasing the wizard from her spell. "You have nothing left, will you still hide in your tower?"
Anger flashed in Saruman's eyes. "I do not hide! You are the ones who should come to me! But now you shall never receive me help! Be gone!" With that he spun and left the balcony.
"Come back, Saruman," Gandalf said in a commanding voice. To the amazement of the others, Saruman turned again, and as if dragged against his will, he came slowly back to the iron rail, leaning on it, breathing hard. His face was lined and shrunken. His hand clutched his heavy black staff like a claw.
"I did not give you leave to go," Gandalf said sternly. "I have not finished. Elwing is right, you have become a fool, Saruman, and yet pitiable. Twice now you have been given the chance to turn away from folly and evil, and been of service. But you choose to stay and gnaw the ends of your old plots. Stay then! But I warn you, you will not easily come out again. Not unless the dark hands of the East stretch out to take you. Saruman!" he cried, and his voice grew in power and authority. "Behold, I am not Gandalf the Grey, whom you betrayed. I am Gandalf the White, who has returned from death. You have no color now, and I cast you from the order and from the Council."
He raised his hand, and spoke slowly in a clear cold voice. "Saruman, your staff is broken." There was a crack, and the staff split asunder in Saruman's hand, and the head of it fell down at Gandalf's feet. "Go!" said Gandalf. With a cry Saruman fell back and crawled away. At that moment a heavy shining thing came hurtling down from above. It glanced off the iron rail, even as Saruman left it, and passing close to Gandalf's head, it smote the stair on which he stood. The rail rang and snapped; the stair cracked and splintered in glittering sparks; but the ball was unharmed. It rolled on down the steps, a globe of crystal, dark, but glowing with a heart of fire. As it bounded away towards a pool Pippin ran after it and picked it up.
"The murderous rouge!" cried Éomer. But Gandalf was unmoved. "No, that was not thrown by Saruman," he said; "nor even at his bidding, I think. It came from a window far above. A parting shot from Master Wormtongue, I fancy, but ill aimed."
"The aim was poor, maybe, because he could not make up his mind which he hated more, you or Saruman," said Aragorn.
"That may be so," said Gandalf. "Small comfort will those two have in their companionship: they will gnaw one another with words. But the punishment is just. If Wormtongue ever comes out of Orthanc alive, it will be more than he deserves.
"Here, my lad, I'll take that! I did not ask you to handle it," he cried, turning sharply and seeing Pippin coming up the steps, slowly, as if he were bearing a great weight. He went down to meet him and hastily took the dark globe from the hobbit, wrapping it in the folds of his cloak. "I will take care of this," he said. "It is not a thing that Saruman would have chose to cast away."
"But he may have other things to cast," said Gimli. "If that is the end of the debate, let us go out of stone's throw, at least!"
"It is the end," said Gandalf. "Let us go."
They turned their backs on the doors of Orthanc, and went down. The riders hailed the king with joy, and saluted Gandalf. The spell of Saruman was broken: they had seen him come at call, and crawl away, dismissed.
"Well, that is done," said Gandalf. "Now I must find Treebeard and tell him how things have gone."
"He will have guessed, surely?" said Merry. "Were they likely to end any other way?"
"Not likely," answered Gandalf, "though they came to the balance of a hair. But I had reasons for trying; some merciful and some less so. First Saruman was shown that the power of his voice was waning. He cannot be both tyrant and counselor. When the plot is ripe it remains no longer secret. Yet he fell into the trap, and tried to deal with his victims piece-meal, while others listened. Then I, and Elwing, gave him a last choice and a fair one: to renounce both Mordor and his private schemes, and make amends by helping us in our need. He knows our need, none better. Great service he could have rendered. But he has chosen to withhold it, and keep the power of Orthanc. He will not serve, only command. He lives now in terror of the shadow of Mordor, and yet he still dreams of riding the storm. Unhappy fool! He will be devoured, if the power of the East stretches out its arms to Isengard. We cannot destroy Orthanc from without, but Sauron - who knows what he can do?"
"And what if Sauron does not conquer? What will you do to him?" asked Pippin.
"I? Nothing!" said Gandalf. "I will do nothing to him. I do not wish for mastery. What will become of him? I cannot say. I grieve that so much that was good now festers in the tower. Still for us things have not gone badly. Strange are the turns of fortune! Often does hatred hurt itself! I fancy that, even if we had entered in, we could have found few treasures in Orthanc more precious that the thing which Wormtongue threw down to us."
A shrill shriek, suddenly cut off, came from an open window high above.
"It seems that Saruman thinks so too," Gandalf said with a grim chuckle. "Let us leave them!"
They turned back and walked to where Elwing stood beside Alagos, a sheepish look on her face. "I am sorry, Mithrandir, I could not help myself," she said timidly.
Gandalf smiled. "Nay, I am glad you did that, for it showed Saruman that he is not strong as he presumes himself to be."
"Yet I wonder where you came upon this horse," Théoden said with a wry smile. "I know it as well as I know his father, except that I never rode Windstorm."
Elwing's face turned red and she dropped her eyes. "I found him at the Fords, and Windchaser was tired, so I borrowed him. I hope you do not mind."
Théoden looked at Alagos with a sad smile. "No, I do not mind. You may borrow him for as long as you like."
"Come, I must find Treebeard," Gandalf said, striding towards the gate. Hardly had they passed out under the arch, when, from among the shadows of the piled stones where they had stood, Treebeard and a dozen other Ents came striding up. Aragorn, Gimli, Legolas, Erestor, and Elwing gazed at them in wonder.
"Here are five of my companions, Treebeard," said Gandalf. "I have spoken of them, but you have not yet seen them." He named them one by one.
The Old Ent looked at them long and searchingly, and spoke to them in turn. Last he turned to Elwing.
"I have heard much about you, and would like very much to speak with you, but Gandalf says you must go ere nightfall."
Elwing smiled and bowed slightly. "I would like very much to speak to you as well, Treebeard. Perhaps there will be time for that yet."
The Ent looked at her thoughtfully. "Ho, hoom, perhaps, perhaps. But alas, day is drawing to an end, and the Lord of the Mark is eager for his own house.""
"Yes, I am sorry, Treebeard, but we must go, and go now," said Gandalf. "I fear that I must take your gatekeepers from you. But you will manage well enough without them."
"Maybe I shall," said Treebeard. "But I shall miss them. We have become friends in so short a while that I think I must be getting hasty - growing backwards towards youth, perhaps. But there, they are the first new thing under Sun or Moon that I have seen for many a long, long day. I shall not forget them. I have put their names in the Long List. Ents will remember it.
the wide-walkers, water drinking;
and hungry as hunters, the Hobbit children,
the laughing-folk, the little people,
they shall remain friends as long as leaves are renewed. Fare you well! But if you hear news up in your pleasant land, in the Shire, send me word! You know what I mean: word or sight of the Entwives. Come yourselves if you can."
"We will," said Merry and Pippin together, and they turned away hastily. Treebeard looked at them, and was silent for a while, shaking his head thoughtfully. Then he turned to Gandalf.
"So Saruman would not leave?" he said. "I did not think he would. His heart is as rotten as a black Huron's..."
Elwing stifled a yawn as Treebeard and Gandalf talked. She had not gotten much sleep, and it was all she could do to keep herself from falling over. To make things worse, Erestor walked up, and he did not appear to be in a particularly good mood.
"Not now," Elwing groaned, but Erestor did not appear to hear her.
"You have a lot of explaining to do," he hissed under his breath so that the others could not hear.
"Not now," Elwing growled.
"Then when?" Erestor snapped. "You keep putting things off and leaving things out, and it is getting very annoying!"
Elwing gave him a cold look, but they were interrupted by Gandalf's ordered to mount. The Riders mounted just as the sun was sinking, and they set out again from Isengard. Gandalf took Merry behind him, and Aragon took Pippin. Two of the king's men went on ahead, riding swiftly, and passed soon out of sight down into the valley. The others followed at an easy pace.
Elwing rode beside Éomer, and Erestor rode a ways behind them alongside Legolas and Gimli. Éomer talked amiably with Elwing, trying to cheer her up, for he could tell she was upset about something.
"I am not completely surprised that King Théoden gave you Windstorm, and perhaps it is better that way," the man of Rohan said. "Windstorm belonged to Théodred, Théoden's son. Théodred did not ride Windstorm to battle because he was too reckless a horse and untrained in the ways of war. A bit of time, though, and he shall make a fine warhorse."
Elwing said nothing but stared straight ahead. Éomer looked at her with a concerned frown on his face. "Lady Swiftfire, will you not tell me what is wrong?"
Elwing stirred and turned to him. "Hm? Oh, sorry Éomer, I was just thinking."
"What could you be thinking about that would trouble you so?" he asked quietly.
Elwing sighed and glanced behind her. Erestor rode with his face toward the setting sun, apparently indifferent to her glance or very presence. "Nothing," she murmured, turning back around.
"You should talk with him," Éomer said softly.
Elwing looked up, startled. "What?"
"Erestor, you need to talk with him, for it obvious that your misery has something to do with him."
Elwing sighed. "It is that obvious?"
"Well, Erestor's foul mood helped a bit," Éomer said with a grin.
Elwing smiled. "Thank you, Éomer. Tell Gandalf we shall catch up to the Riders later."
"I will, milady."
Elwing turned Alagos and trotted back to Erestor. "Do you still want to talk?"
Erestor looked at her skeptically. "Are you serious?" Elwing nodded. "Very well."
Turning their horses the two of them trotted across the plains, not back towards Isengard, but rather towards the Anduin, though they would not be going that far. When they had rode for a while in silence, and the sun had all but disappeared, they slowed their horses to a walk.
"All right, talk."
Elwing frowned. "I believe you are the one who should talk first, you seem to have a lot of attitude to get off your chest."
Erestor glared at her angrily and opened his mouth, but swiftly closed it and looked away. "It's just that... oh nevermind."
Elwing stared at him. "Nevermind? You bring me out here just to say nevermind? I don't think so! Now talk!"
Erestor sighed and glanced at Elwing. The last rays of the setting sun fell upon her face, bringing out red and gold streaks in her bronze-blonde hair. Her hazel eyes watched him expectantly. What am I supposed to say? Erestor thought miserably. "You have your secrets, I have mine," he murmured at last.
Elwing frowned. "Secrets? What do you mean?"
"Well, Legolas said something about 'the Fate of Sunstars.' I would like to know what that is."
Elwing's face paled slightly. "He did not tell you what it is, did he?"
"If he did I would not be asking, now would I?" Erestor said, rolling his eyes.
Elwing sighed in relief and turned away. "Trust me Erestor, you don't want to know."
"No, Elwing. For once, trust me. What is the Fate of Sunstars?"
She did not answer right away, but gazed at the last line of sun, barely visible above the horizon. "Death," she murmured at last.
Erestor jumped and stared at her, thinking he had not heard her right. "What did you say?"
"Death," she repeated, slightly louder. "The Fate of all Sunstars is to die. There, happy you know?"
Erestor just stared at her as a tear slipped down her cheek. "I think you will need to tell me more," he whispered.
* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *
"Something is troubling you, my friend," Gimli said, trying to take his mind off the horse's bouncy gait. Legolas did not reply, but his gaze drifted towards the distant figures of Elwing and Erestor. "What has Elwing done now?" Gimli laughed.
"It is rather what she has not done that worries me," Legolas said with a concerned frown.
Gimli forgot his humor at once, for rarely did Legolas sound worried. "What is it?"
Legolas sighed. "She has not told Erestor about the Fate of Sunstars."
Gimli frowned. "Fate of Sunstars? I know nothing of it."
"Few besides the Elves know of it at all," Legolas said dismally. "The Sunstars are the most powerful of all the Elves, even more powerful than the Noldor. Long ago Sauron tried to deceive them, but they were wise enough to see through his lies. Sauron was so angered that he lay a curse on all the kings and queens of the Sunstars. At one point in their lives, Sauron would lure them to his lair, and there they would meet there death."
Gimli frowned further in confusion. "But why would Sauron lure them one by one? Why not kill them all? And why would the Sunstars come if they knew they would die?"
"Sauron had to lure them one by one because he could not face them all at once," Legolas explained. "Also, he never gave up his desire to turn a Sunstar to his side. The rulers of the Sunstars are the most powerful and he hoped that one would be weak enough in spirit to join him. The Sunstars knew all this, but they were forced to come. If they did not, Sauron would slaughter their families and other innocents until he had his way."
"But if Sauron wants them to join him, why does he kill them?"
Legolas said nothing, and Gimli was beginning to wonder if he had heard him when, "He doesn't."
Gimli looked up at his friend in shock. "What do you mean Sauron doesn't kill them? You said they die..."
"They do die, but not by Sauron's hand," Legolas said, his voice so soft it was almost a whisper. "Sauron takes pleasure in others' suffering, he would never end their lives easily. Especially not a Sunstar, for they would all fall to his will, if they were given enough time."
Gimli sat quietly thinking. Realization began to grow on him, and he looked back at Legolas, eyes large with disbelief. "You don't mean..." Legolas nodded. Gimli turned back around in shock. "Then... the Fate of Sunstars... is to die..."
"By their own hand," Legolas finished.
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Erestor sat astride Iceriver, staring at Elwing in shock. She had told him the Fate of the Sunstars, but he still could not believe it. At last he said, "But you will break the curse, right? You will defy the Fate of Sunstars?"
Elwing laughed bitterly. "In a way. You see, the Fate of the Sunstars will be broken in the time of my coming, but that doesn't mean I will be the one to break it."
Erestor frowned. "What do you mean?"
"Think, how can you break the curse? Get rid of Sauron, right? Well, what will happen when Frodo throws the Ring into the Cracks of Doom?"
Comprehension dawned in Erestor's eyes. "So it is actually Frodo who will break the curse." Elwing nodded. "So... you will still evade it, right? I mean, it's what, March 5?* Just twenty-one days and you will be free!" Elwing did not move. "Elwing?" No response. "Elwing?"
Erestor stretched out his hand to nudge her, but suddenly a sound caught his attention. She was crying! "Elwing?" he said gently, his voice carrying a slight note of pleading. Elwing turned to him and he could see clearly that she was crying. "Elwing, you will escape this, right?"
A sob escaped Elwing's throat and she quickly turned Alagos and galloped off in the direction of Orthanc. "Elwing!" Wheeling Iceriver about, Erestor raced after her.
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The Riders of Rohan had made camp, but Legolas and Gimli did not yet turn in.
"Are you sure she did not tell him?"
"Yes, Gimli!"
"I am sorry, I just do not understand why she would not tell him."
Silence.
"Legolas?"
More silence.
"Legolas, do you know why she has not told him?"
The Elf prince shifted uncomfortably. "I have a guess."
"And...?"
"I think she loves him."
Gimli stared at Legolas in shock, but then, as he thought about it, the Elf's notion did not sound as crazy as Gimli had initially thought. Indeed, now I would say that I would guess that to be the reason as well. It is clear she is fond of him...
"Do you think she will tell him?"
"Of her Fate? Perhaps. That she loves him? .... I cannot say. I do not think so, though it will be all the worse for her."
"What do you mean?" Gimli asked, his eyelids starting to droop despite himself.
"If you knew you were going to die, would you not prefer to go to death with a clear conscience?"
Gimli merely grunted in response, lying down with his head on his pack. "Well, I would also prefer to go to sleep untroubled, but it does not appear that my wish will come true this night."
Legolas smiled slightly. "Go to sleep, my friend. There is nothing we can do."
"But I am sure there is someone who can."
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Erestor pulled Iceriver to a stop, peering into the gloom ahead of him. Alagos was faster than Erestor's steed and Elwing had long past from sight. But I do know she is going towards Orthanc. I wonder why.... wait, Treebeard! She must be going to talk to him... perhaps I should let her be for awhile. Actually, I could use some time alone as well. Erestor sighed and turned Iceriver towards Fangorn. I need some time to think... and a psychiatrist wouldn't hurt either...
* March 5 - the Ring is destroyed on March 26.
End Chapter 32
Rrrrrr! This chapter did not come out at all like I had planned!! A curse upon characters who demand to do things their own way!! **sigh** Oh well... please review, I need feedback. If you dislike it, please tell me why, and I shall do my best to improve upon it. I am really just rushing to finish it so I can rewrite it and fix things, so feedback is very much appreciated. **ArwenStar**
