Disclaimer: I do not own The Lord of the Rings. It belongs
to JRR Tolkien. I own every strange thing before the first asterisk break.
(this thingy: ~*~)
Author's Note:
I have my suspicions that some of the characters are a bit out of character in this chapter, but I did my best to keep the original personalities. Also, I have to follow this by movie-verse because I followed the FOTR events by the movie. I've got to re-read the books to refresh my memory.... But Tom Bombadil and his many songs are going to give me nightmares again... *shudders*
Set It Off!
"Kill them, kill them, Precious."
The three-foot long snake hissed bitterly in reply. Its owner grinned back at it before setting it loose onto the earth, carefully watching it slither through the tall, green grass of the plain lands. The owner kept her anticipating smile on her face as the snake approached the victim: a rather bulky-looking Gnazba clad in dark purple and deep scarlet tunic and leggings. The blue creature's fox-like ears pricked up at the sound of an approaching attacker, but took no hesitation in continuing to walk through the bushy terrain.
"Foolish..."
In a flash, the Gnazba fell dead into the dirt. Dragon poison and snake poison were two acids only the truly skilled dared to mix. Well, the owner hadn't been the one to stir it up, as she recalled, letting the snake crawl back onto her shoulder. Her father was the real genius in the scene. In thanks to her partner, the owner stroked the snake and gave it a light kiss on the head. Then, she set it loose again, but in the opposite direction where it would return to its usual midmorning routine.
---
"I found the stone, just as you asked, father."
Father closed his eyes as he turned away from his daughter in silence, her capture clutched firmly in his right hand. Still in dark tranquility, he made his way through a few corridors, and between doors. The owner, the daughter, followed in the same manor, without a sound. It would be near eerie to any spy that would be watching this event. But of course, no spy ever lived to see this area of the grounds.
Daughter watched silently, pulling her hood over her head as Father placed the last stone into an enormous dome-shaped stone. It was a myriad of a collection, but each entry had its place. The stone, stolen from the foolish Gnazba, was a deep purple; but it turned to bright red once it was firmly inserted into the entry space. Daughter had intentions to scream in horror as a green light flashed, followed by a ring of red. A strong pull of wind blew her trembling figure to the ground.
Moments passed like years, and in that time, Father bowed soundlessly and nudged his child as a signal to rise. She exited first, and he last. The creak of the iron door that blockaded the entrance to the magic stone room was a near unforgettable shriek of locks and chains. But Daughter had forgotten about it four years later.
~*~
Aragorn looked up. Neither the Elf, the Dwarf, or the Man recognized the Rider that was sitting on a horse near the far back of the swarm. He lifted his helmet up slightly and examined them from afar for a few moments. Eomer turned his attention to his soldier.
"You know these strange folk?" the horsemaster inquired harshly. "Speak!"
"I know them not," replied the soldier, "but I recognize their features."
"Explain this."
The rider sighed and shifted. "...There was a young girl that passed through Edoras a several months ago. She looked deadly pale, on the verge of passing into death. One of the innkeepers gave her refuge in his inn*; I was there. She was sitting at the bar with a mug of warm milk. I had a whisky; very fine whisky at that." He licked his lips, but he continued with his tale. "Anyway, she claimed that she was in pursuit for a gang of home-wreckers. She said that they raided her home and stole her family's livestock. I asked where she hailed from, but she didn't answer. The next morning, her room was found empty and one of the horses in the stables were missing."
"What does this child have to do with these strangers?" asked Eomer, still in his strict tone.
"She described one of the thieves. She said he was an elf. An elf traveling with a dwarf, some small people, and three men, one of them being a very old man. Her description fits this band near perfectly."
The riders prepared to strike the hunters with their weapons as Eomer asked, "Have you been terrorizing the innocent? Are you a spy of Saruman?"
Gimli looked as if he were about to pounce on Eomer, but Aragorn held him back, saying, "What was this child's name?"
The rider thought for a few moments. "She called herself Rogue of the East Lands."
~*~
"Hey! I just noticed that I am totally caked in dirt and orc blood!"
One would have ultimately thought that Naurglahad was going insane if they had seen her talking to herself as she lay on the knoll where Gimli had abandoned her. She cursed the dwarf and the elf and the man. She wanted to go home. The assassin pushed herself up and looked around. But how could she get home? Damn, that troublesome riddle.
So... there was only one place to go: east.
"Ashikaa mamaedio alka," she sang brightly as she moved, "nana sitzuhe, naga naga imo, Eku chaeka di jajuil, Nama nae nae naga naga imo!"
Well, truth be told, she was singing a drunk-man's song that she learned in Ghadliste. Oh, what would she give to return. Once again, damn that troublesome riddle. Her mind cursed for hours upon hours as she kept heading east, following the scent of men as closely as she could. It was complete toil, nearly an absolute waste of time. When night had fallen, she collapsed to the ground with a headache biting at her mind. She did not look to the stars for comfort. Instead, she covered her head with her sleeve, and let her weariness consume her.
~*~
"Is she dead?"
"...She's still kinda' breathing."
"We should keep moving! Momma's waiting for us at Edoras!"
"What the...?"
Naurglahad looked up. Two blonde children sat upon a mature black horse, staring down at her with concerned curiosity. It took her a few blinks to realize that they were on their own and that it was still very early in the morning. Naurglahad groaned.
"Y--you're heading to Edoras?" she asked in a mere whisper, somewhat trying to sound on the verge of death and in need of a ride. She did not care if she was lying to innocent children. She figured the would lose their minds eventually; why not tamper with them now?
"Are you?" inquired the elder of them, a boy who appeared to his companion's brother. His companion, a little girl, looked impatient, tired, and above all, frightened.
Naurglahad paused, hoping that she didn't get Edoras mixed up with Eriador or Eressea or Eldar or--- "Yes, I'm heading for Edoras. How long have you been traveling?"
"Days," answered the boy.
"At that pace? You look like you're running from someone."
"We're off to warn everyone," said the girl before her brother could speak, "and to find our Momma'."
"It may be too late if you keep at that slow gait," replied the devious one. "I will help you get to Edoras much quicker... if you lend me your horse. I am a capable rider, you can trust that I may get you there safely and swiftly."
The boy thought for a moment; there was something just too suspicious about this stranger. Why was she lying here alone, by herself, in the middle of Rohan, during times of treachery, and armed with weapons?
"I am on a search for my friends," she explained as innocently as she could. "They were snatched by orcs and taken towards the east."
She waited and hoped for an answer from the young riders. "...We don't believe you."
Then have it your way, she thought, her eyes narrowing to angered slits. As the boy prepared to take off again, she brushed her hand against the burn mark on her thigh. The eye of Sauron waited there, still fresh with the Dark energy that ran through every flake of skin it touched. She dashed right in front of the horse at it began to stride forward. But as the boy tried to veer around her, she made sure that they had just a moment of eye contact. Something in her poisoned mind told her that it was all she needed.
~*~
"He charms you, doesn't he?"
The blonde woman whipped around in surprise. Naurglahad blinked and smiled slightly. The stranger raised an eyebrow slightly to see a foreign sixteen year old somewhat spying on her, and wearing an oversized auburn tunic; it was so large for her that she had to wear a second shirt under it. The outcome of her apparel was almost silly-looking.
"You fancy him," continued Naurglahad, "I can tell.... And for your information, I just happen to like looking like a dork... walking around in huge clothes... feeling stupid... and uncomfortable."
"You're Naurglahad, are you not?" asked the woman. "You were traveling with Eothain* when you came to Edoras?"
"Yeah." Her tone was lax and low. "And you're Eowine, right?"
"Eowyn," she corrected, crossing her arms over her chest. "Shield Maiden of Rohan."
"Nice... So--"
"Ah! There you are, you arrogant child!"
A slight wince of concern flashed in Eowyn's eyes as Naurglahad's calm expression turned to a highly disturbed and angry glare as she wheeled on her heel to face Gimli the dwarf that came waddling towards her. She stuck her tongue out at him as she pulled an eyelid down. The dwarf waved this aside and returned her glare as he bowed before Eowyn and asked:
"Milady, would you please be ever so kind as to do a favor for us?"
"What favor do you ask of me?" replied Eowyn. "I should be pleased to do it."
Gimli pressed his lips together as he snatched Naurglahad's wrist and yanked her down with a sharp tug. "This one here needs to have an extra close pair of eyes on her. She keeps getting herself and others into trouble. Watch her for us on the way to Helm's Deep?"
Eowyn paused to take a glance at Naurglahad, whose back had given out from hunching to meet Gimli's height and now sat on her arse, gazing absentmindedly into the ceiling. The shield maiden sighed. "I will do as you ask."
"Thank you, Eowyn," said the dwarf, obviously relieved at the freedom of probably one of the worst burdens he had ever had to bear in his long lifetime.
*I really hate defying the logic of common sense, but I suppose that even in times that were as tricksy (Smeagol-word!) as the days of the War of the Ring, someone would be nice enough to take a stranger into their inn.
*Is it Eothain? That's what I heard on the screen, but I have my suspicions because I think that was the name of some dude in Thedon's ancestry or posterity.
Author's Note:
I have my suspicions that some of the characters are a bit out of character in this chapter, but I did my best to keep the original personalities. Also, I have to follow this by movie-verse because I followed the FOTR events by the movie. I've got to re-read the books to refresh my memory.... But Tom Bombadil and his many songs are going to give me nightmares again... *shudders*
Set It Off!
"Kill them, kill them, Precious."
The three-foot long snake hissed bitterly in reply. Its owner grinned back at it before setting it loose onto the earth, carefully watching it slither through the tall, green grass of the plain lands. The owner kept her anticipating smile on her face as the snake approached the victim: a rather bulky-looking Gnazba clad in dark purple and deep scarlet tunic and leggings. The blue creature's fox-like ears pricked up at the sound of an approaching attacker, but took no hesitation in continuing to walk through the bushy terrain.
"Foolish..."
In a flash, the Gnazba fell dead into the dirt. Dragon poison and snake poison were two acids only the truly skilled dared to mix. Well, the owner hadn't been the one to stir it up, as she recalled, letting the snake crawl back onto her shoulder. Her father was the real genius in the scene. In thanks to her partner, the owner stroked the snake and gave it a light kiss on the head. Then, she set it loose again, but in the opposite direction where it would return to its usual midmorning routine.
---
"I found the stone, just as you asked, father."
Father closed his eyes as he turned away from his daughter in silence, her capture clutched firmly in his right hand. Still in dark tranquility, he made his way through a few corridors, and between doors. The owner, the daughter, followed in the same manor, without a sound. It would be near eerie to any spy that would be watching this event. But of course, no spy ever lived to see this area of the grounds.
Daughter watched silently, pulling her hood over her head as Father placed the last stone into an enormous dome-shaped stone. It was a myriad of a collection, but each entry had its place. The stone, stolen from the foolish Gnazba, was a deep purple; but it turned to bright red once it was firmly inserted into the entry space. Daughter had intentions to scream in horror as a green light flashed, followed by a ring of red. A strong pull of wind blew her trembling figure to the ground.
Moments passed like years, and in that time, Father bowed soundlessly and nudged his child as a signal to rise. She exited first, and he last. The creak of the iron door that blockaded the entrance to the magic stone room was a near unforgettable shriek of locks and chains. But Daughter had forgotten about it four years later.
~*~
Aragorn looked up. Neither the Elf, the Dwarf, or the Man recognized the Rider that was sitting on a horse near the far back of the swarm. He lifted his helmet up slightly and examined them from afar for a few moments. Eomer turned his attention to his soldier.
"You know these strange folk?" the horsemaster inquired harshly. "Speak!"
"I know them not," replied the soldier, "but I recognize their features."
"Explain this."
The rider sighed and shifted. "...There was a young girl that passed through Edoras a several months ago. She looked deadly pale, on the verge of passing into death. One of the innkeepers gave her refuge in his inn*; I was there. She was sitting at the bar with a mug of warm milk. I had a whisky; very fine whisky at that." He licked his lips, but he continued with his tale. "Anyway, she claimed that she was in pursuit for a gang of home-wreckers. She said that they raided her home and stole her family's livestock. I asked where she hailed from, but she didn't answer. The next morning, her room was found empty and one of the horses in the stables were missing."
"What does this child have to do with these strangers?" asked Eomer, still in his strict tone.
"She described one of the thieves. She said he was an elf. An elf traveling with a dwarf, some small people, and three men, one of them being a very old man. Her description fits this band near perfectly."
The riders prepared to strike the hunters with their weapons as Eomer asked, "Have you been terrorizing the innocent? Are you a spy of Saruman?"
Gimli looked as if he were about to pounce on Eomer, but Aragorn held him back, saying, "What was this child's name?"
The rider thought for a few moments. "She called herself Rogue of the East Lands."
~*~
"Hey! I just noticed that I am totally caked in dirt and orc blood!"
One would have ultimately thought that Naurglahad was going insane if they had seen her talking to herself as she lay on the knoll where Gimli had abandoned her. She cursed the dwarf and the elf and the man. She wanted to go home. The assassin pushed herself up and looked around. But how could she get home? Damn, that troublesome riddle.
So... there was only one place to go: east.
"Ashikaa mamaedio alka," she sang brightly as she moved, "nana sitzuhe, naga naga imo, Eku chaeka di jajuil, Nama nae nae naga naga imo!"
Well, truth be told, she was singing a drunk-man's song that she learned in Ghadliste. Oh, what would she give to return. Once again, damn that troublesome riddle. Her mind cursed for hours upon hours as she kept heading east, following the scent of men as closely as she could. It was complete toil, nearly an absolute waste of time. When night had fallen, she collapsed to the ground with a headache biting at her mind. She did not look to the stars for comfort. Instead, she covered her head with her sleeve, and let her weariness consume her.
~*~
"Is she dead?"
"...She's still kinda' breathing."
"We should keep moving! Momma's waiting for us at Edoras!"
"What the...?"
Naurglahad looked up. Two blonde children sat upon a mature black horse, staring down at her with concerned curiosity. It took her a few blinks to realize that they were on their own and that it was still very early in the morning. Naurglahad groaned.
"Y--you're heading to Edoras?" she asked in a mere whisper, somewhat trying to sound on the verge of death and in need of a ride. She did not care if she was lying to innocent children. She figured the would lose their minds eventually; why not tamper with them now?
"Are you?" inquired the elder of them, a boy who appeared to his companion's brother. His companion, a little girl, looked impatient, tired, and above all, frightened.
Naurglahad paused, hoping that she didn't get Edoras mixed up with Eriador or Eressea or Eldar or--- "Yes, I'm heading for Edoras. How long have you been traveling?"
"Days," answered the boy.
"At that pace? You look like you're running from someone."
"We're off to warn everyone," said the girl before her brother could speak, "and to find our Momma'."
"It may be too late if you keep at that slow gait," replied the devious one. "I will help you get to Edoras much quicker... if you lend me your horse. I am a capable rider, you can trust that I may get you there safely and swiftly."
The boy thought for a moment; there was something just too suspicious about this stranger. Why was she lying here alone, by herself, in the middle of Rohan, during times of treachery, and armed with weapons?
"I am on a search for my friends," she explained as innocently as she could. "They were snatched by orcs and taken towards the east."
She waited and hoped for an answer from the young riders. "...We don't believe you."
Then have it your way, she thought, her eyes narrowing to angered slits. As the boy prepared to take off again, she brushed her hand against the burn mark on her thigh. The eye of Sauron waited there, still fresh with the Dark energy that ran through every flake of skin it touched. She dashed right in front of the horse at it began to stride forward. But as the boy tried to veer around her, she made sure that they had just a moment of eye contact. Something in her poisoned mind told her that it was all she needed.
~*~
"He charms you, doesn't he?"
The blonde woman whipped around in surprise. Naurglahad blinked and smiled slightly. The stranger raised an eyebrow slightly to see a foreign sixteen year old somewhat spying on her, and wearing an oversized auburn tunic; it was so large for her that she had to wear a second shirt under it. The outcome of her apparel was almost silly-looking.
"You fancy him," continued Naurglahad, "I can tell.... And for your information, I just happen to like looking like a dork... walking around in huge clothes... feeling stupid... and uncomfortable."
"You're Naurglahad, are you not?" asked the woman. "You were traveling with Eothain* when you came to Edoras?"
"Yeah." Her tone was lax and low. "And you're Eowine, right?"
"Eowyn," she corrected, crossing her arms over her chest. "Shield Maiden of Rohan."
"Nice... So--"
"Ah! There you are, you arrogant child!"
A slight wince of concern flashed in Eowyn's eyes as Naurglahad's calm expression turned to a highly disturbed and angry glare as she wheeled on her heel to face Gimli the dwarf that came waddling towards her. She stuck her tongue out at him as she pulled an eyelid down. The dwarf waved this aside and returned her glare as he bowed before Eowyn and asked:
"Milady, would you please be ever so kind as to do a favor for us?"
"What favor do you ask of me?" replied Eowyn. "I should be pleased to do it."
Gimli pressed his lips together as he snatched Naurglahad's wrist and yanked her down with a sharp tug. "This one here needs to have an extra close pair of eyes on her. She keeps getting herself and others into trouble. Watch her for us on the way to Helm's Deep?"
Eowyn paused to take a glance at Naurglahad, whose back had given out from hunching to meet Gimli's height and now sat on her arse, gazing absentmindedly into the ceiling. The shield maiden sighed. "I will do as you ask."
"Thank you, Eowyn," said the dwarf, obviously relieved at the freedom of probably one of the worst burdens he had ever had to bear in his long lifetime.
*I really hate defying the logic of common sense, but I suppose that even in times that were as tricksy (Smeagol-word!) as the days of the War of the Ring, someone would be nice enough to take a stranger into their inn.
*Is it Eothain? That's what I heard on the screen, but I have my suspicions because I think that was the name of some dude in Thedon's ancestry or posterity.