Okay.. Another break to say a few words.
I thought a lot about whether I should stay true to the movie or the books when I wrote this and finally, for many reasons that I don't want to bore you with right now, I decided on the movie(s) (as you must have guessed by now). And as with any material that a great many people already know, I am running in the very same dangerous fields where you can step on a mine and end up with a boring and dull story.
What I am trying to say is, I am following the footsteps of the movie and trying to stray as little as possible from that path. However, everyone obviously has watched the movie, and I do not want people to get bored and feel like they are merely reading what they have already seen on TV. Irulan is an addition, true, and the next chapters might delve into her world more than anything. So for those who want hardcore action, don't think I am not an action fan myself and I have not made sure that there is some kicking and punching in the story as well, but there will also be chapters that have almost no action, only thoughts and inner struggles.
It is inevitable, really. I tried to make a better job of it, but failed. What can I say. after all... it is a bit more realistic in that way. I'm pretty sure that even in the lives of heroes, something marvelously interesting does NOT happen EVERY day. Sigh.. I can only ask for patience and hope that you will find it ok to read slower paced chapters every now and then. After all, the story is a whole. I cut it up into chapters. Therefore, seen from a larger perspective, maybe those duller parts are not that dull at all... or so I hope.
Do I need to thank everyone again for their kind and gracious remarks and reviews? I think I do. Thank you guys, you are the ones who keep this going.
***************************************************************
Their voyage continued through the mountainous hills, always climbing up, and then down again. She could see the mighty white mountains in the horizon, lying on the face of Middle Earth from north to south like a scar, now seemingly looming over the company. Although still very far away, she was closer to home now than she had been for a long time.
The Fellowship seemed to be mending again. Although she was sure that none yet accepted her to be a real member -much less a warrior of any sort- they seemed to be happy to have her around. Maybe because she was a woman and men, she had noticed over the years, complained about women more than anything else, and yet silently and secretly enjoyed the company of one, no matter what.
Irulan tried to reach the fragile balance between becoming close friends and not binding herself to the friendship of any of these men. She had spent a very long time in the company of men - in battlefields, in raids, in inns......yet those situations were not too uncomfortable, for they were not very suitable for deep friendships. She came and went to them as a warrior and they had accepted her to be one. Yet, a long trip with always the same bunch of people around you and not much else to do, sort of pushed people towards each other and breaking out of that was not easy.
She was not Princess Irulan anymore. She was the Black Knight - and even more than that, a Darma Druid. There was no going back on something like that. She would never be the person she was in the past, the person Gandalf and Legolas knew. And she did not want them to think otherwise. So she tried to blend in, and yet, stubbornly kept her distance as well. Or at least, tried to. It was becoming very difficult in such a company. Especially with the hobbits.
The hobbits seemed to be infatuated with her. 'Those darn halflings must have sensed my soft feelings towards them!' she thought with displeasure, for no matter how harsh she tried to act towards them, she was doing a bad job and just like dogs who knew exactly that you were not really angry even though you might be yelling at the top of your lungs, they kept coming back, surrounding her, jumping up and down with energy, asking her incredulous questions. They were so innocent and nice, that she had to keep reminding herself that these creatures were probably older than herself, and not at all children, as she tended to misperceive them. She waved them away and tried to find something to do, like preparing the fire, looking for water or mending ripped equipment, but they scurried after her ever more fiercely and every time she ended up giving in to them sooner or later.
Boromir seemed to be recovering from his shock as well. She would have really felt sorry if they had lost the trust and friendship between them. It was built under painful circumstances, under the shadow of death and despair, so losing it would have been a shame. He began talking to her more and more often, and though his conversations had been cautiously avoiding the topics of Gondor or their common history for a while in the beginning, he reluctantly breeched the last of the walls standing between them soon enough. Now he seemed to be talking to the Black Knight once again. Although there was a new edge to it. And Irulan did not like it a bit. Boromir had always been very much affected and amazed by her skills as the Knight, yes, but his amazement seemed to turn into an eerie and discomforting feeling now that said Knight was also a woman. And she dared not think it, but probably also an attractive woman, in his standards. She tried not to stiffen with the thought of that, but could not find a way of avoiding him under the circumstances.
She felt nothing but utter respect for Aragorn. Even when she had first laid eyes on him years ago, and he looked terrible (as he usually did) and nothing like a future king, she was overcome by awe, for a power unlike any other was emanating from him. He was the sort of leader she had wished to become so many times as a princess. She knew that one day men of utter power would kneel to him, even though he would probably not raise a single finger to make them. He was of a royal lineage, like herself, and again like herself, he had chosen to push away that lineage. She believed Aragorn a lot more similar to her than anyone on that fellowship. But then, maybe she was only HOPING for that similarity.
The dwarf was such a casanova! He was sincere and raw and direct. And frankly, if he had been a human and a lot younger, she would probably be very much infatuated by him. Being who he was though, she felt she had found the older brother or dearest uncle she always longed for. He was grumpy and paranoid, loud and filthy. And she loved all that about him! He had a heart of gold and would kill her if he knew she had discovered that. He very obviously tried to impress her with his tales of dangerous adventures, and Irulan smiled and ever so slightly showed her awe, which only served as an excuse to tell the untold ones. He reminded her more and more of Chemarit and that alone made her allow -even though unwillingly- a bond to be formed between them.
Then there was Legolas, of course. It always came down to him! He would not talk to her or address her in any way. Every member of the Fellowship seemed to be aware of his obvious dislike towards her. Irulan tried to tell herself that it was very well so, that she was beyond that darn elf, that she had gotten over him years ago now and that she could care less............ but in her heart, she knew she was lying to herself. She felt hurt and she refused to accept that. She felt hurt that he would drag it on like that. Hurt that he could not see her reasons and that his kind feelings for her had turned so bitter. And most of all, she felt deeply hurt that he failed to look at her with unclouded eyes like he used to, years ago.
Let's face it, she had not been the perfect princess when they met. More than once, she had acted rude and careless in his company. She had portrayed the most embarrassing acts as a human -not to mention, as a woman- and he somehow had accepted that princess Irulan. Now she was not acting nearly as stupid and as clumsy, and yet he seemed to hate her. 'I am completely lost!' she thought, 'how can that be? He used to like me -at least, that's what I thought- for BEING so different. Now he seems to hate me for it.' Her face twisted with confusion. 'I thought I heard you say you did not give a damn anyway yesterday, and the day before, and the day before that' the inner voice hissed back. Irulan found nothing to say to that. 'I very much thought that would be your answer' it said.
***
'How can you grow fond of a person in a few seconds, and not grow out of it in YEARS?' thought Legolas bitterly. Some people, it seems, were very much like arrows. They penetrated your skin in the blink of an eye, and you think pulling them out would make you free of them. Alas, the scar remained!
He did not know what to feel, much less what to do. Irulan had obviously changed. She was a stranger now. Like the hobbits, or Gimli, or Boromir, she was someone he had met for the first time just a few days ago. Why could he not see her in that fashion? She was not the same woman, why could his mind not accept that? It was very disturbing, and not merely because of his confusion, but because it was a breech in his control which did not happen too often. Actually the last time it happened was.............. oh no......... when he.......... Her again! She always seemed to be around when he was making a fool of himself.
He tried to shake his thoughts away and looked up. Irulan had changed her outfit. Being no longer in need to cover up like that, she had changed into a navy colored tunic with long, lose arms, underneath of which another cream colored armless shirt could be seen. The tunic reached down just below her hip and seemed to be of a coarse and rough fabric. It held a rather large belt, which again was of the same fabric, only a darker shade of brown. Her breeches were the color of earth after rain, almost black and matched the black leather boots she had kept from the Black Knight uniform. Once again her odd sword was tied behind her back along with her bag and she continued to carry the odd metal club on her belt. Her hair was lose, only the strand on the very top pulled back and tied in the back, avoiding it from falling to her face. He had never believed that a woman could look that beautiful in a man's outfit. The soft, linen appearance of the clothes and her lose hair had given her a much softer and somehow feminine appearance.
She was walking side by side with Boromir, talking. She was always talking to Boromir, by the looks of it. And why not? The two of them had a common history of years now, while he had only been with her for a couple of days. Both were human while he was an elf. Both were closer in age than he would ever be to a mortal again. And yet, against all rational reasons that he came up with, he could not help but feel an odd sort of anger. It was only but normal, but it felt so............. wrong.
And especially wrong because Boromir's eyes carried an odd twinkle and light that had not been there before. The fleeting feelings of men! As if it was not him who had insulted her so rudely when she revealed her trued identity! And she seemed to have forgotten that incident, too! Humans had no pride! It was wrong for them to be this close. It would eventually seep into the fellowship and endanger the whole quest. Humans were incapable of restraining their emotions! Elves on the other hand........... alright, maybe that line of thought was not one he felt like following right now. But his argument still held - a woman amongst so many men, was just something dangerous. She would distract them. Especially when that woman was Irulan.
***
They were taking yet another break. Merry and Pippin were dueling with Boromir, who was actually a good and gifted teacher. Gandalf was sitting further in the back, smoking his pipe. Legolas, as usual, needed no rest and was jumping from boulder to boulder, scanning the horizons.
"That elf is just too much to be with!" sighed Sam, "doesn't he ever get tired?"
"I know what you mean" said Irulan and sat next to Frodo. "It is annoying it is not? One can not help feeling jealous".
A short silence stretched when all three watched Merry and Pippin in amusement. "You seem to know him well" said Frodo all of a sudden. Irulan just cast a sidelong glance at him and did not answer for a few moments. "I thought I did. Before...... before I left my home" she said reluctantly.
"I take it that you did not part well?" asked Sam cautiously.
"Oh we parted well, all right" said Irulan dreamily. "But I guess it is hard for people to accept me for who I am".
"Who are you?" asked Frodo all of a sudden. Irritated she turned to him, preparing to give him a sarcastic answer, but then she saw that he was sincere. He was just looking at her with an earnest and plain expression in his face, waiting patiently for an answer. Irulan opened her mouth, but found none. Flashes of her life came and went instantly - her childhood, her times as the princess, her times as the wanderer, her times with the Darma Druids, the years she had been the Black Knight, and all the other adventures she had in between. She closed her mouth and looked away hastily. The fact was, she had no idea. Nothing she could think of seemed to be the right word or concept for her. She was always something in between. She was always a mixture, that made her something little of all, but eventually one of none.
Odd as it seemed, when Legolas screamed "Crebain of Dudlain!" she actually felt relief. She grabbed both hobbits and threw them towards a group of bushes a few feet away and thankfully they crawled the rest of the distance and hid underneath. Then she hastily kicked the gear lying around away and threw herself underneath another mass of thick bushes.
And to her utter dismay, Legolas landed right beside her. He gave her a blank look and continued looking up at the sky. The black swarm came and noisily encircled their camp. Irulan had heard of such spies that wizards used, but never really had seen one that she knew about. She knew that they had been spotted. They had been too late in seeking cover. The swarm took off soon enough and she let out a sigh of relief. Legolas was still lying beside her, not moving. It felt good to be close again. Okay, screw pride. She just couldn't hold a grudge to this elf for too long. She was only human, damn it! Besides, if he was not ready to move on, it was his problem.
"You know you should really stop throwing yourself at me, Legolas" she said with mild amusement. His head snapped around. Irulan smiled the ghost of a smile and a pinkish hue hit his cheeks. Really now, she had never seen elves blush before and certainly the color she had seen on his face more than once now in the past days looked suspiciously very much like a blush. 'I myself have lost that talent a long time ago' she thought bitterly.
"Do not flatter yourself, princess" he snapped back and immediately sprang to his feet and walked off.
Irulan shook her head. 'He means to drag on. That impossible elf!' she sighed inwardly. 'Three thousand years old and acting like a little child! Note to self: no matter how many years spent, men never pass the age of 6' she thought bitterly.
I thought a lot about whether I should stay true to the movie or the books when I wrote this and finally, for many reasons that I don't want to bore you with right now, I decided on the movie(s) (as you must have guessed by now). And as with any material that a great many people already know, I am running in the very same dangerous fields where you can step on a mine and end up with a boring and dull story.
What I am trying to say is, I am following the footsteps of the movie and trying to stray as little as possible from that path. However, everyone obviously has watched the movie, and I do not want people to get bored and feel like they are merely reading what they have already seen on TV. Irulan is an addition, true, and the next chapters might delve into her world more than anything. So for those who want hardcore action, don't think I am not an action fan myself and I have not made sure that there is some kicking and punching in the story as well, but there will also be chapters that have almost no action, only thoughts and inner struggles.
It is inevitable, really. I tried to make a better job of it, but failed. What can I say. after all... it is a bit more realistic in that way. I'm pretty sure that even in the lives of heroes, something marvelously interesting does NOT happen EVERY day. Sigh.. I can only ask for patience and hope that you will find it ok to read slower paced chapters every now and then. After all, the story is a whole. I cut it up into chapters. Therefore, seen from a larger perspective, maybe those duller parts are not that dull at all... or so I hope.
Do I need to thank everyone again for their kind and gracious remarks and reviews? I think I do. Thank you guys, you are the ones who keep this going.
***************************************************************
Their voyage continued through the mountainous hills, always climbing up, and then down again. She could see the mighty white mountains in the horizon, lying on the face of Middle Earth from north to south like a scar, now seemingly looming over the company. Although still very far away, she was closer to home now than she had been for a long time.
The Fellowship seemed to be mending again. Although she was sure that none yet accepted her to be a real member -much less a warrior of any sort- they seemed to be happy to have her around. Maybe because she was a woman and men, she had noticed over the years, complained about women more than anything else, and yet silently and secretly enjoyed the company of one, no matter what.
Irulan tried to reach the fragile balance between becoming close friends and not binding herself to the friendship of any of these men. She had spent a very long time in the company of men - in battlefields, in raids, in inns......yet those situations were not too uncomfortable, for they were not very suitable for deep friendships. She came and went to them as a warrior and they had accepted her to be one. Yet, a long trip with always the same bunch of people around you and not much else to do, sort of pushed people towards each other and breaking out of that was not easy.
She was not Princess Irulan anymore. She was the Black Knight - and even more than that, a Darma Druid. There was no going back on something like that. She would never be the person she was in the past, the person Gandalf and Legolas knew. And she did not want them to think otherwise. So she tried to blend in, and yet, stubbornly kept her distance as well. Or at least, tried to. It was becoming very difficult in such a company. Especially with the hobbits.
The hobbits seemed to be infatuated with her. 'Those darn halflings must have sensed my soft feelings towards them!' she thought with displeasure, for no matter how harsh she tried to act towards them, she was doing a bad job and just like dogs who knew exactly that you were not really angry even though you might be yelling at the top of your lungs, they kept coming back, surrounding her, jumping up and down with energy, asking her incredulous questions. They were so innocent and nice, that she had to keep reminding herself that these creatures were probably older than herself, and not at all children, as she tended to misperceive them. She waved them away and tried to find something to do, like preparing the fire, looking for water or mending ripped equipment, but they scurried after her ever more fiercely and every time she ended up giving in to them sooner or later.
Boromir seemed to be recovering from his shock as well. She would have really felt sorry if they had lost the trust and friendship between them. It was built under painful circumstances, under the shadow of death and despair, so losing it would have been a shame. He began talking to her more and more often, and though his conversations had been cautiously avoiding the topics of Gondor or their common history for a while in the beginning, he reluctantly breeched the last of the walls standing between them soon enough. Now he seemed to be talking to the Black Knight once again. Although there was a new edge to it. And Irulan did not like it a bit. Boromir had always been very much affected and amazed by her skills as the Knight, yes, but his amazement seemed to turn into an eerie and discomforting feeling now that said Knight was also a woman. And she dared not think it, but probably also an attractive woman, in his standards. She tried not to stiffen with the thought of that, but could not find a way of avoiding him under the circumstances.
She felt nothing but utter respect for Aragorn. Even when she had first laid eyes on him years ago, and he looked terrible (as he usually did) and nothing like a future king, she was overcome by awe, for a power unlike any other was emanating from him. He was the sort of leader she had wished to become so many times as a princess. She knew that one day men of utter power would kneel to him, even though he would probably not raise a single finger to make them. He was of a royal lineage, like herself, and again like herself, he had chosen to push away that lineage. She believed Aragorn a lot more similar to her than anyone on that fellowship. But then, maybe she was only HOPING for that similarity.
The dwarf was such a casanova! He was sincere and raw and direct. And frankly, if he had been a human and a lot younger, she would probably be very much infatuated by him. Being who he was though, she felt she had found the older brother or dearest uncle she always longed for. He was grumpy and paranoid, loud and filthy. And she loved all that about him! He had a heart of gold and would kill her if he knew she had discovered that. He very obviously tried to impress her with his tales of dangerous adventures, and Irulan smiled and ever so slightly showed her awe, which only served as an excuse to tell the untold ones. He reminded her more and more of Chemarit and that alone made her allow -even though unwillingly- a bond to be formed between them.
Then there was Legolas, of course. It always came down to him! He would not talk to her or address her in any way. Every member of the Fellowship seemed to be aware of his obvious dislike towards her. Irulan tried to tell herself that it was very well so, that she was beyond that darn elf, that she had gotten over him years ago now and that she could care less............ but in her heart, she knew she was lying to herself. She felt hurt and she refused to accept that. She felt hurt that he would drag it on like that. Hurt that he could not see her reasons and that his kind feelings for her had turned so bitter. And most of all, she felt deeply hurt that he failed to look at her with unclouded eyes like he used to, years ago.
Let's face it, she had not been the perfect princess when they met. More than once, she had acted rude and careless in his company. She had portrayed the most embarrassing acts as a human -not to mention, as a woman- and he somehow had accepted that princess Irulan. Now she was not acting nearly as stupid and as clumsy, and yet he seemed to hate her. 'I am completely lost!' she thought, 'how can that be? He used to like me -at least, that's what I thought- for BEING so different. Now he seems to hate me for it.' Her face twisted with confusion. 'I thought I heard you say you did not give a damn anyway yesterday, and the day before, and the day before that' the inner voice hissed back. Irulan found nothing to say to that. 'I very much thought that would be your answer' it said.
***
'How can you grow fond of a person in a few seconds, and not grow out of it in YEARS?' thought Legolas bitterly. Some people, it seems, were very much like arrows. They penetrated your skin in the blink of an eye, and you think pulling them out would make you free of them. Alas, the scar remained!
He did not know what to feel, much less what to do. Irulan had obviously changed. She was a stranger now. Like the hobbits, or Gimli, or Boromir, she was someone he had met for the first time just a few days ago. Why could he not see her in that fashion? She was not the same woman, why could his mind not accept that? It was very disturbing, and not merely because of his confusion, but because it was a breech in his control which did not happen too often. Actually the last time it happened was.............. oh no......... when he.......... Her again! She always seemed to be around when he was making a fool of himself.
He tried to shake his thoughts away and looked up. Irulan had changed her outfit. Being no longer in need to cover up like that, she had changed into a navy colored tunic with long, lose arms, underneath of which another cream colored armless shirt could be seen. The tunic reached down just below her hip and seemed to be of a coarse and rough fabric. It held a rather large belt, which again was of the same fabric, only a darker shade of brown. Her breeches were the color of earth after rain, almost black and matched the black leather boots she had kept from the Black Knight uniform. Once again her odd sword was tied behind her back along with her bag and she continued to carry the odd metal club on her belt. Her hair was lose, only the strand on the very top pulled back and tied in the back, avoiding it from falling to her face. He had never believed that a woman could look that beautiful in a man's outfit. The soft, linen appearance of the clothes and her lose hair had given her a much softer and somehow feminine appearance.
She was walking side by side with Boromir, talking. She was always talking to Boromir, by the looks of it. And why not? The two of them had a common history of years now, while he had only been with her for a couple of days. Both were human while he was an elf. Both were closer in age than he would ever be to a mortal again. And yet, against all rational reasons that he came up with, he could not help but feel an odd sort of anger. It was only but normal, but it felt so............. wrong.
And especially wrong because Boromir's eyes carried an odd twinkle and light that had not been there before. The fleeting feelings of men! As if it was not him who had insulted her so rudely when she revealed her trued identity! And she seemed to have forgotten that incident, too! Humans had no pride! It was wrong for them to be this close. It would eventually seep into the fellowship and endanger the whole quest. Humans were incapable of restraining their emotions! Elves on the other hand........... alright, maybe that line of thought was not one he felt like following right now. But his argument still held - a woman amongst so many men, was just something dangerous. She would distract them. Especially when that woman was Irulan.
***
They were taking yet another break. Merry and Pippin were dueling with Boromir, who was actually a good and gifted teacher. Gandalf was sitting further in the back, smoking his pipe. Legolas, as usual, needed no rest and was jumping from boulder to boulder, scanning the horizons.
"That elf is just too much to be with!" sighed Sam, "doesn't he ever get tired?"
"I know what you mean" said Irulan and sat next to Frodo. "It is annoying it is not? One can not help feeling jealous".
A short silence stretched when all three watched Merry and Pippin in amusement. "You seem to know him well" said Frodo all of a sudden. Irulan just cast a sidelong glance at him and did not answer for a few moments. "I thought I did. Before...... before I left my home" she said reluctantly.
"I take it that you did not part well?" asked Sam cautiously.
"Oh we parted well, all right" said Irulan dreamily. "But I guess it is hard for people to accept me for who I am".
"Who are you?" asked Frodo all of a sudden. Irritated she turned to him, preparing to give him a sarcastic answer, but then she saw that he was sincere. He was just looking at her with an earnest and plain expression in his face, waiting patiently for an answer. Irulan opened her mouth, but found none. Flashes of her life came and went instantly - her childhood, her times as the princess, her times as the wanderer, her times with the Darma Druids, the years she had been the Black Knight, and all the other adventures she had in between. She closed her mouth and looked away hastily. The fact was, she had no idea. Nothing she could think of seemed to be the right word or concept for her. She was always something in between. She was always a mixture, that made her something little of all, but eventually one of none.
Odd as it seemed, when Legolas screamed "Crebain of Dudlain!" she actually felt relief. She grabbed both hobbits and threw them towards a group of bushes a few feet away and thankfully they crawled the rest of the distance and hid underneath. Then she hastily kicked the gear lying around away and threw herself underneath another mass of thick bushes.
And to her utter dismay, Legolas landed right beside her. He gave her a blank look and continued looking up at the sky. The black swarm came and noisily encircled their camp. Irulan had heard of such spies that wizards used, but never really had seen one that she knew about. She knew that they had been spotted. They had been too late in seeking cover. The swarm took off soon enough and she let out a sigh of relief. Legolas was still lying beside her, not moving. It felt good to be close again. Okay, screw pride. She just couldn't hold a grudge to this elf for too long. She was only human, damn it! Besides, if he was not ready to move on, it was his problem.
"You know you should really stop throwing yourself at me, Legolas" she said with mild amusement. His head snapped around. Irulan smiled the ghost of a smile and a pinkish hue hit his cheeks. Really now, she had never seen elves blush before and certainly the color she had seen on his face more than once now in the past days looked suspiciously very much like a blush. 'I myself have lost that talent a long time ago' she thought bitterly.
"Do not flatter yourself, princess" he snapped back and immediately sprang to his feet and walked off.
Irulan shook her head. 'He means to drag on. That impossible elf!' she sighed inwardly. 'Three thousand years old and acting like a little child! Note to self: no matter how many years spent, men never pass the age of 6' she thought bitterly.