A/N: Sorry I haven't updated in ages, but I've been slack. That basically
sums me up. I'm on holidays, so have no excuse for such behaviour as this.
I'll go sit in the corner now and reflect upon my past ways and inactions.
No, I won't do that, I'd rather just write this chapter.
My brain has been switched off for quite a while now, and is not fully recharged. Apologies for the crappiness.
Here we go.
You sure you want to go through with this?
Chapter 8:
They trudged on. The minutes flowed slowly to hours. The sun slowly crept above the horizon, painting the sky with colours not known in the nighttime world: it grew grey, then pink, slowly shifting to purple and then to the rich blue of morning. Too caught up in her own affairs, Mary-Jane failed to notice the extravagance of the sunrise, or to appreciate the beauty and hope a new morning can find. Still they walked. Their pace was quick and sure, following the Orc's path. It took little skill to follow it, even Mary-Jane had little trouble. Hundreds of booted feet had tramped over the fair fields of Rohan in great haste. But the path was getting old, and they had little hope of overtaking the orcs.
This was all that Mary-Jane knew. She knew that they were trying to overtake the orcs, as the foul creatures had captured two of the Company during the battle next to the river. Why they had even had a battle, or why they were fighting she had no idea. She didn't know what differences the two sides held between them, what each believed in. She had learnt enough in her own world to know that one side was not necessarily going to be wholly right, on the side of good, and the other working for evil. It was easy to believe it when she was fighting, but on reflection, was it possible for one side to be good, and the other evil? Because one side was good, did it immediately follow that the other was evil? These questions kept floating around in Mary-Jane's head whilst she trudged on after Legolas and Aragorn. The thoughts flowed in circles. When she finally felt that she had answered some of her questions a new bit of reasoning would present itself and throw her whole mind into chaos and confusion.
Legolas was struggling to find hope in the depths of his heart. He did, however, notice the beauty and magnificence of the sunrise, but it gave him little pleasure. He knew the advantages of the Orcs in this chase, but still his heart was lighter than those of the rest of the company, and still he stepped lightly and tired little. He rested his mind during the long treks, and walked in dreams in the woods of the north.
Mary-Jane felt like a machine, but for the confusion in her mind she felt, heard and saw little. Her whole concentration was on going one step more, then another step, and another one after that. She did not know how far the landscape stretched in front of her, or how far she would have to go on foot before rest. In this way she found the day slipping slowly away under her aching feet. They stopped few times in their trek, short breaks to eat or rest for a matter of minutes. But that was all.
They stopped again. Mary-Jane could not find the will to sit, as it would mean only that she would have to find the will and energy to get up again in a short while. She stood there dumbly. Aragorn had told them to halt, and was going on ahead. He veered from the main path, following a fainter, smaller one, then came running back.
'It is plain. One of the hobbits, Pippin I think, came off the path, and look,' said Aragorn, holding up what looked like a fallen leaf.
'A brooch of an elven-cloak of Lórien,' said Gimli and Legolas together.
'A brooch of a whatty-what of what?' Asked Mary-Jane, her confusion had gone far enough, it was time for some answers.
'The leaves of Lórien never fall idly,' said Aragorn, ignoring Mary-Jane, this was hardly the time for questions or answers to them. 'We know now that one hobbit was alive when they passed through this spot. But the trail is old, and it may have been some days ago when they cast away this vital clue.'
'Hobbit, Lórien?' She whispered under her breath. She was going to go mad if she didn't get answers soon.
Legolas smiled knowingly at her. 'Hobbits, are the Halflings you saw when you first met the company, children perhaps to your eyes. Lórien is the fair wood realm north of this place.'
This little insight was not much, but it had to satisfy Mary-Jane as they continued trudging on a moment later. She was still left with her many questions, and added to that was a new one 'how the hell did he hear me?'
Daylight faded and evening drew on. It became harder to see the trail.
'We are faced with another choice.' Stated Aragorn. 'We can either continue through the night and chance to miss any other paths or clues that the hobbits may have made, or rest here and loose more ground on our enemies.'
'I vote we rest here,' said Mary-Jane before she knew the words had spilled from her mouth.
The three men looked at her, then glanced away, lost in their own thoughts.
'Surely orcs must rest,' said Gimli doubtfully.
That began a long and fruitless discussion, which at last ended in agreement: they would let their guide Aragorn choose what was best.
Damn them, thought Aragorn, bloody sheep all of them! Follow the one in front, that's it. He stared into the distance, that always helped him think, and felt his mind shutting down from weariness. He could not walk much farther without sufficient rest.
'We will rest here for the night, then set out at sunrise,' he said. 'We can not risk missing a path or any clue in our chase.'
Mary-Jane looked up from where she sat. Finally she could rest.
Aragorn threw himself to the ground, and fell immediately to sleep. Gimli soon followed. But Legolas still remained standing. He looked troubled and frustrated.
Mary-Jane shut her eyes, waiting for sleep to fall on her like a thick blanket. But sleep did not come. Her body was weary but her mind and heart were still a tangle of confusion.
'Please,' she began, looking at Legolas through the darkness. He turned to look at her, his keen elvish eyes sensing the trouble of her heart through the darkness. 'Please, I need to find some answers, some meaning to these riddles.'
'I know not what you know, and am hardly the one to answer the questions that dwell in your heart,' he replied. 'Rest, all will reveal itself in it's own due course.'
'I can hardly sleep with my mind in this confusion. I don't know anything of this land, this world. I don't know why I fought with you, against the orcs, I don't know why I am here or how I got here.' She said, staring at the ground trying to stop the tears that were threatening to flow from her eyes.
'I cannot answer these questions, but I can tell what I know, and it may aid in calming your mind.' He paused. 'How much do you know?'
'Only that I fought vile creatures, killed them for the sake of your cause. Your cause I do not know. I don't know the significance of what you are fighting for, or against. I don't even know if I'm fighting for the right side.'
So he told her of the forging of the Great Rings, and how Sauron had forged the One Ring in secret, One Ring to rule them all. He told her of the Last Alliance, and how Isildur defeated Sauron. He told her how the creature Gollum came to have the Ring, and how the hobbit Bilbo found it. He told her how darkness had crept back into the world, into Mirkwood. He told her how Sauron fled from Dol Guldur, and found his way back to the Shadow-lands of Mordor. Then he told her of the servants of the Enemy, his orcs, the men allied to him, the traitor Saruman, and his Nazgul. Then he told her of Frodo's quest, the Council of Elrond, and the quest of the Fellowship. Then he told her that two hobbits, Sam and Frodo the Ring Bearer, had escaped from the Orcs at the Great River, and had continued their journey to Mordor to destroy the Ring. He also told her of the Ring's effect on others, especially men, how it could not be used for good, only evil, how it could consume a man, and how it had consumed Boromir.
'That is the account, as full as I can give under the circumstances. I hope it answers some of your questions.' He finished.
'That is your account, surely, but there are two sides to anything. I'm sure the other side would present their case as favourably as you did yours.' Said Mary-Jane.
He looked at her wonderingly. He had never doubted that any one on the side of good, as she obviously was, would ever consider that the side of the Enemy could look favourable. But here was a girl who was questioning which side was that of good. Astounding.
'But surely,' she continued slowly and carefully, remembering Legolas' weapons, 'if this Ring had the power to do all this, it cannot be good. And those Orcs didn't care how many fell in the battle, as long as they got what they wanted, and I trust you and your company, I don't believe you would be on the side of evil.'
There she had said it. She trusted him. She didn't really have a choice, but there it was. She had also fallen into the trap of thinking that there was a good side and an evil side. Surely it couldn't be as simple as that: but it seemed to be that way.
And I don't like my chances discussing the matter with one of those orcs, she added in her mind. With that she closed her eyes and felt the thick comfort of sleep settle over her mind.
Legolas arose with the sun, and woke the company. They grumbled in their sleep, annoyed that they were to get up so soon. Legolas was impatient, he felt they had lost enough time and didn't like the idea of being idle when he could be gaining in their chase.
They started walking again. Mary-Jane felt a tad refreshed after her deep slumber, but not revived. She had eaten nothing but some strange bread called lembas, it filled her stomach after only a bite: it was a strange feeling. Legolas had said it was elvish waybread, made by the Elves of Lothlórien. She only assumed that Lothlórien was the same woodland realm as Lórien. That would make things a little less confusing. And who were these elves anyway? She often wondered. Perhaps Legolas was one of them, that may explain the pointy ears. Maybe he was just a nice guy who had strange ears, which he was probably persecuted for as a child. In that case he would be pretty sensitive in that area, so Mary-Jane thought it wise not to mention it, especially as the two other men seemed not to notice the ears.
'It feels as if some force is against us,' said Aragorn. 'A force that lends speed to our enemies, the will is against us. It makes me weary, as I have never felt before. I distrust this land, even the moon, everything.' He glanced meaningfully at Mary-Jane. She didn't have the energy to defend herself, and no real argument anyway.
Still they continued on foot, with hearts heavy with unnatural weariness. They came to a hill. It was green, as was the rest of the landscape. Legolas was walking lightly as ever, while the rest of the company trudged heavily behind him.
'Let us climb the green hill,' he said. Mary-Jane glared at him. His energy was really annoying her, and he insisted that they all suffer by way of hill-climbing just because he wasn't tired and he felt like it. Nevertheless they climbed the green hill. There they rested for the night.
They all fell asleep within minutes. All save Legolas, who stood, sometimes pacing, humming and singing to himself in his own fair tongue. Mary-Jane slept fitfully, as it was a cold night, when she awoke she found herself lulled to sleep by his beautiful voice, creating images of peace and beauty in her mind.
They woke as the sun rose over the horizon. Aragorn was staring into the distance, following the orc trail with his eyes.
'Riders!' he called back to them. 'They are many and swift.'
Legolas jumped up, following his gaze. 'There are one hundred and five.' He said. 'Yellow is their hair, and bright are their spears. Their leader is very tall.'
'You know, just take a rough estimate on their numbers, 'many' was good enough for me, good thing you have abnormal vision, in case we wanted to know what colour their hair is,' smirked Mary-Jane.
Legolas glared at her, rather hurt, Gimli smirked.
'Keen are the eyes of elves,' laughed Aragorn. Legolas continued to glare.
'So you are an elf,' said Mary-Jane.
Gimli looked at her strangely. 'Well, what did you think he was, a dwarf!?'
'I didn't.I thought that.' she began.
'Quickly, they approach,' interrupted Aragorn, leading them down the hill.
'How do we know these riders are friends? I heard the Rohirrim pay tribute to Mordor.' Said Gimli.
'We do not know, but I do not believe such rumours.' Answered Aragorn. 'But in any case, they will bring news, be it good or ill.'
The riders approached swiftly, their steeds bearing them at a great pace.
'Quickly,' whispered Legolas in Mary-Jane's ear. 'Under my cloak.'
She looked up at him doubtfully, who was this freak and what did he think he was doing?
'It is a cloak of Lórien, it will protect you from unfriendly eyes,' he explained quickly.
'Must go to this Lórien, seems like it's the place to be,' muttered Mary- Jane.
'If by 'the place to be' you mean that it is a place of great beauty and peace, then you are correct in your assumption,' said Legolas, as he covered her in his cloak.
The riders came, and soon Mary-Jane could feel the rhythms of the hoof beats in the earth. Then the beats were upon them. She could not see, as her head was covered in the cloak. She pushed her head through the gap, convinced that she was about to be run over by one hundred and five galloping horses. She got her head up just in time to see the first of the horses pass, their riders apparently not seeing the four strangers in their lands. Still they passed. The last were soon to pass when they heard Aragorn's voice call out above the thundering feet of the horses: 'Riders of Rohan, what news from the North?'
*~**~*~~**~*~*~**~*~*~*~**~*~*~
Thus ends the eighth instalment of this fic. It was a bit longer than my other chapters because I haven't written in ages and I figured I might as well do it properly, none of the tiny chapters because I can't be bothered to write it stuff. More chapters coming soon, I won't promise because then I'm likely to break the promise, so I'd just rather not make the promise in the first place. That's all I have to say.
My brain has been switched off for quite a while now, and is not fully recharged. Apologies for the crappiness.
Here we go.
You sure you want to go through with this?
Chapter 8:
They trudged on. The minutes flowed slowly to hours. The sun slowly crept above the horizon, painting the sky with colours not known in the nighttime world: it grew grey, then pink, slowly shifting to purple and then to the rich blue of morning. Too caught up in her own affairs, Mary-Jane failed to notice the extravagance of the sunrise, or to appreciate the beauty and hope a new morning can find. Still they walked. Their pace was quick and sure, following the Orc's path. It took little skill to follow it, even Mary-Jane had little trouble. Hundreds of booted feet had tramped over the fair fields of Rohan in great haste. But the path was getting old, and they had little hope of overtaking the orcs.
This was all that Mary-Jane knew. She knew that they were trying to overtake the orcs, as the foul creatures had captured two of the Company during the battle next to the river. Why they had even had a battle, or why they were fighting she had no idea. She didn't know what differences the two sides held between them, what each believed in. She had learnt enough in her own world to know that one side was not necessarily going to be wholly right, on the side of good, and the other working for evil. It was easy to believe it when she was fighting, but on reflection, was it possible for one side to be good, and the other evil? Because one side was good, did it immediately follow that the other was evil? These questions kept floating around in Mary-Jane's head whilst she trudged on after Legolas and Aragorn. The thoughts flowed in circles. When she finally felt that she had answered some of her questions a new bit of reasoning would present itself and throw her whole mind into chaos and confusion.
Legolas was struggling to find hope in the depths of his heart. He did, however, notice the beauty and magnificence of the sunrise, but it gave him little pleasure. He knew the advantages of the Orcs in this chase, but still his heart was lighter than those of the rest of the company, and still he stepped lightly and tired little. He rested his mind during the long treks, and walked in dreams in the woods of the north.
Mary-Jane felt like a machine, but for the confusion in her mind she felt, heard and saw little. Her whole concentration was on going one step more, then another step, and another one after that. She did not know how far the landscape stretched in front of her, or how far she would have to go on foot before rest. In this way she found the day slipping slowly away under her aching feet. They stopped few times in their trek, short breaks to eat or rest for a matter of minutes. But that was all.
They stopped again. Mary-Jane could not find the will to sit, as it would mean only that she would have to find the will and energy to get up again in a short while. She stood there dumbly. Aragorn had told them to halt, and was going on ahead. He veered from the main path, following a fainter, smaller one, then came running back.
'It is plain. One of the hobbits, Pippin I think, came off the path, and look,' said Aragorn, holding up what looked like a fallen leaf.
'A brooch of an elven-cloak of Lórien,' said Gimli and Legolas together.
'A brooch of a whatty-what of what?' Asked Mary-Jane, her confusion had gone far enough, it was time for some answers.
'The leaves of Lórien never fall idly,' said Aragorn, ignoring Mary-Jane, this was hardly the time for questions or answers to them. 'We know now that one hobbit was alive when they passed through this spot. But the trail is old, and it may have been some days ago when they cast away this vital clue.'
'Hobbit, Lórien?' She whispered under her breath. She was going to go mad if she didn't get answers soon.
Legolas smiled knowingly at her. 'Hobbits, are the Halflings you saw when you first met the company, children perhaps to your eyes. Lórien is the fair wood realm north of this place.'
This little insight was not much, but it had to satisfy Mary-Jane as they continued trudging on a moment later. She was still left with her many questions, and added to that was a new one 'how the hell did he hear me?'
Daylight faded and evening drew on. It became harder to see the trail.
'We are faced with another choice.' Stated Aragorn. 'We can either continue through the night and chance to miss any other paths or clues that the hobbits may have made, or rest here and loose more ground on our enemies.'
'I vote we rest here,' said Mary-Jane before she knew the words had spilled from her mouth.
The three men looked at her, then glanced away, lost in their own thoughts.
'Surely orcs must rest,' said Gimli doubtfully.
That began a long and fruitless discussion, which at last ended in agreement: they would let their guide Aragorn choose what was best.
Damn them, thought Aragorn, bloody sheep all of them! Follow the one in front, that's it. He stared into the distance, that always helped him think, and felt his mind shutting down from weariness. He could not walk much farther without sufficient rest.
'We will rest here for the night, then set out at sunrise,' he said. 'We can not risk missing a path or any clue in our chase.'
Mary-Jane looked up from where she sat. Finally she could rest.
Aragorn threw himself to the ground, and fell immediately to sleep. Gimli soon followed. But Legolas still remained standing. He looked troubled and frustrated.
Mary-Jane shut her eyes, waiting for sleep to fall on her like a thick blanket. But sleep did not come. Her body was weary but her mind and heart were still a tangle of confusion.
'Please,' she began, looking at Legolas through the darkness. He turned to look at her, his keen elvish eyes sensing the trouble of her heart through the darkness. 'Please, I need to find some answers, some meaning to these riddles.'
'I know not what you know, and am hardly the one to answer the questions that dwell in your heart,' he replied. 'Rest, all will reveal itself in it's own due course.'
'I can hardly sleep with my mind in this confusion. I don't know anything of this land, this world. I don't know why I fought with you, against the orcs, I don't know why I am here or how I got here.' She said, staring at the ground trying to stop the tears that were threatening to flow from her eyes.
'I cannot answer these questions, but I can tell what I know, and it may aid in calming your mind.' He paused. 'How much do you know?'
'Only that I fought vile creatures, killed them for the sake of your cause. Your cause I do not know. I don't know the significance of what you are fighting for, or against. I don't even know if I'm fighting for the right side.'
So he told her of the forging of the Great Rings, and how Sauron had forged the One Ring in secret, One Ring to rule them all. He told her of the Last Alliance, and how Isildur defeated Sauron. He told her how the creature Gollum came to have the Ring, and how the hobbit Bilbo found it. He told her how darkness had crept back into the world, into Mirkwood. He told her how Sauron fled from Dol Guldur, and found his way back to the Shadow-lands of Mordor. Then he told her of the servants of the Enemy, his orcs, the men allied to him, the traitor Saruman, and his Nazgul. Then he told her of Frodo's quest, the Council of Elrond, and the quest of the Fellowship. Then he told her that two hobbits, Sam and Frodo the Ring Bearer, had escaped from the Orcs at the Great River, and had continued their journey to Mordor to destroy the Ring. He also told her of the Ring's effect on others, especially men, how it could not be used for good, only evil, how it could consume a man, and how it had consumed Boromir.
'That is the account, as full as I can give under the circumstances. I hope it answers some of your questions.' He finished.
'That is your account, surely, but there are two sides to anything. I'm sure the other side would present their case as favourably as you did yours.' Said Mary-Jane.
He looked at her wonderingly. He had never doubted that any one on the side of good, as she obviously was, would ever consider that the side of the Enemy could look favourable. But here was a girl who was questioning which side was that of good. Astounding.
'But surely,' she continued slowly and carefully, remembering Legolas' weapons, 'if this Ring had the power to do all this, it cannot be good. And those Orcs didn't care how many fell in the battle, as long as they got what they wanted, and I trust you and your company, I don't believe you would be on the side of evil.'
There she had said it. She trusted him. She didn't really have a choice, but there it was. She had also fallen into the trap of thinking that there was a good side and an evil side. Surely it couldn't be as simple as that: but it seemed to be that way.
And I don't like my chances discussing the matter with one of those orcs, she added in her mind. With that she closed her eyes and felt the thick comfort of sleep settle over her mind.
Legolas arose with the sun, and woke the company. They grumbled in their sleep, annoyed that they were to get up so soon. Legolas was impatient, he felt they had lost enough time and didn't like the idea of being idle when he could be gaining in their chase.
They started walking again. Mary-Jane felt a tad refreshed after her deep slumber, but not revived. She had eaten nothing but some strange bread called lembas, it filled her stomach after only a bite: it was a strange feeling. Legolas had said it was elvish waybread, made by the Elves of Lothlórien. She only assumed that Lothlórien was the same woodland realm as Lórien. That would make things a little less confusing. And who were these elves anyway? She often wondered. Perhaps Legolas was one of them, that may explain the pointy ears. Maybe he was just a nice guy who had strange ears, which he was probably persecuted for as a child. In that case he would be pretty sensitive in that area, so Mary-Jane thought it wise not to mention it, especially as the two other men seemed not to notice the ears.
'It feels as if some force is against us,' said Aragorn. 'A force that lends speed to our enemies, the will is against us. It makes me weary, as I have never felt before. I distrust this land, even the moon, everything.' He glanced meaningfully at Mary-Jane. She didn't have the energy to defend herself, and no real argument anyway.
Still they continued on foot, with hearts heavy with unnatural weariness. They came to a hill. It was green, as was the rest of the landscape. Legolas was walking lightly as ever, while the rest of the company trudged heavily behind him.
'Let us climb the green hill,' he said. Mary-Jane glared at him. His energy was really annoying her, and he insisted that they all suffer by way of hill-climbing just because he wasn't tired and he felt like it. Nevertheless they climbed the green hill. There they rested for the night.
They all fell asleep within minutes. All save Legolas, who stood, sometimes pacing, humming and singing to himself in his own fair tongue. Mary-Jane slept fitfully, as it was a cold night, when she awoke she found herself lulled to sleep by his beautiful voice, creating images of peace and beauty in her mind.
They woke as the sun rose over the horizon. Aragorn was staring into the distance, following the orc trail with his eyes.
'Riders!' he called back to them. 'They are many and swift.'
Legolas jumped up, following his gaze. 'There are one hundred and five.' He said. 'Yellow is their hair, and bright are their spears. Their leader is very tall.'
'You know, just take a rough estimate on their numbers, 'many' was good enough for me, good thing you have abnormal vision, in case we wanted to know what colour their hair is,' smirked Mary-Jane.
Legolas glared at her, rather hurt, Gimli smirked.
'Keen are the eyes of elves,' laughed Aragorn. Legolas continued to glare.
'So you are an elf,' said Mary-Jane.
Gimli looked at her strangely. 'Well, what did you think he was, a dwarf!?'
'I didn't.I thought that.' she began.
'Quickly, they approach,' interrupted Aragorn, leading them down the hill.
'How do we know these riders are friends? I heard the Rohirrim pay tribute to Mordor.' Said Gimli.
'We do not know, but I do not believe such rumours.' Answered Aragorn. 'But in any case, they will bring news, be it good or ill.'
The riders approached swiftly, their steeds bearing them at a great pace.
'Quickly,' whispered Legolas in Mary-Jane's ear. 'Under my cloak.'
She looked up at him doubtfully, who was this freak and what did he think he was doing?
'It is a cloak of Lórien, it will protect you from unfriendly eyes,' he explained quickly.
'Must go to this Lórien, seems like it's the place to be,' muttered Mary- Jane.
'If by 'the place to be' you mean that it is a place of great beauty and peace, then you are correct in your assumption,' said Legolas, as he covered her in his cloak.
The riders came, and soon Mary-Jane could feel the rhythms of the hoof beats in the earth. Then the beats were upon them. She could not see, as her head was covered in the cloak. She pushed her head through the gap, convinced that she was about to be run over by one hundred and five galloping horses. She got her head up just in time to see the first of the horses pass, their riders apparently not seeing the four strangers in their lands. Still they passed. The last were soon to pass when they heard Aragorn's voice call out above the thundering feet of the horses: 'Riders of Rohan, what news from the North?'
*~**~*~~**~*~*~**~*~*~*~**~*~*~
Thus ends the eighth instalment of this fic. It was a bit longer than my other chapters because I haven't written in ages and I figured I might as well do it properly, none of the tiny chapters because I can't be bothered to write it stuff. More chapters coming soon, I won't promise because then I'm likely to break the promise, so I'd just rather not make the promise in the first place. That's all I have to say.