A/N: For all the Éowyn fans out there, you won't like this chapter. I
cannot stand Éowyn, her hyena laugh, her face, or the way she throws
herself at Aragorn. Aragorn is Arwen's, end of story.
Ella was awoken the next morning at dawn, and even though she bitterly missed the days of rising at her leisure, or around noon, the morning was so cheerful that she couldn't stay grouchy. Forcing herself to rise, she stretched her stiff muscles until they became more limber. Ella wasn't looking forward to clambering onto her horse's broad back, and was surprised when strong hands boosted her up.
"Thanks," she said to Legolas from atop her horse. She shifted around, vainly trying to get into a more comfortable position on the saddle. Despite her saddle soreness, Ella was feeling more alive than she had on previous mornings. She knew that her magic would be stronger than it had been in a while, having finally recovered from the drain. For the first time in days, they followed a path, one that led toward Edoras. The first signs of fall were apparent to the astute observer. The tips of leaves were becoming tinged with crimson, and the air had the crispness breathed only during fall.
Ella's first impression of Edoras was one of vulnerability, because if its disrepair. She examined the wall surrounding it, and didn't think it would hold against any sort of medieval catapult, not matter how crude the siege engine was. The houses also seemed to sag, their former days of glory long gone. On horseback, they approached King Théoden's home. They climbed the grey stone staircase and were met at the double doors.
"I cannot allow you before King Théoden so armed, Gandalf Grayhame. By order of Gríma Wormtongue." A guard said officiously. Ella wondered who Gríma Wormtongue could be. A name like that positively reeked of guile and duplicity. Gandalf nodded his permission, and the companions disarmed. Ella handed a guard her sword belt. Legolas twirled his knives before handing them over. ~Show off,~ Ella thought.
"Your staff," the head guard said.
"Oh," Gandalf said deprecatingly, "You would not part an old man from his walking stick."
The guard nodded his assent, and Gandalf pretended to lean heavily on Legolas' arm, though he stopped the act once they entered the throne room. The chamber was cavernous, but it was everything from the stone floor to the tapestries were dingy. At the center of the dais sat a man so crumpled with age that he looked almost dwarfish. His grey hair was matted and lay dully on his rich but faded robes.
"The courtesy of your hall is somewhat lessened of late, Théoden, King," Gandalf called loudly. Ella watched as a sharp, cunning looking man with limp black hair and hooded eyes whispered into the King's ear. This must be Wormtongue, for no other name could fit such a viper.
"Why should I welcome you, Gandalf Stormcrow?" King Théoden asked haltingly. Gríma Wormtongue rose, "Late is the hour at which this conjurer chooses to appear. Ill news is ill guessed," he said in his oily voice.
"Be silent! Keep your forked tongue behind your teeth. I have not passed through fire and death to bandy words with a witless worm," Gandalf commanded, his voice cracking like a whip.
The guards rushed the companions. Ella froze the nearest one, as well as several others, preferring not to beat them to a pulp. ~Behind you!~ came her mental advisor. It was a good moment for he (or maybe she) to show up. One of the brighter guards had crept up behind Ella with every intention of braining her with a stout club, intelligently deciding to get rid of the worst potential threat -the witch- first. Ella ducked as he was about to swing, and sent a sharp elbow into his stomach. She turned around and swept his feet off the floor, leaving him in a heap. Gimli had pinned Gríma to the ground, and almost looked like he was reading him his Miranda rights.
"Too long have you stayed in the shadows!" Gandalf said to the King when he reached the foot of the dais. "I release you," Gandalf said. Ella felt the surge of power, noticeably stronger than what he wielded in the days when he was a Grey wizard. His efforts were met with a dusty laugh from the king, surprising from one who looked like he could be toppled by the nudge of a finger.
"You have no power here, Gandalf the Grey!" the King jeered. Gandalf advanced onto the dais, and threw back his grey cloak, revealing the snow- white robes and dazzling presence of a White wizard. The King's laugh was abruptly cut off, and a grunt of fear escaped his throat.
"I will draw you, Saruman, as poison is drawn from a wound," Gandalf declared. King Théoden squirmed in his throne, trying to escape the wizard. Ella finally realized that Saruman possessed the King. At that moment, Ella saw a blonde woman come into the throne room from a side entrance and try to go to Théoden. Aragorn caught her in his arms, preventing her.
"If I go, Théoden dies," threatened Saruman through the King.
"You did not kill me, you will not kill him," Gandalf said firmly. Ella felt another surge of power from Gandalf.
"Rohan is mine," sneered the King. Again, Gandalf reached out his staff, this time King Théoden was thrown back in his throne. Ella watched, astonished, as the years melted from the King's face, leaving him a much younger man. The blonde woman leapt up to the dais, and caught the King, pushing him back onto his throne.
"I know your face," King Théoden breathed, looking into the woman's face. "Éowyn. Éowyn. Gandalf."
"Breathe the free air again, my friend," Gandalf said, smiling.
"Dark have been my dreams of late," King Théoden said. He regarded his hand, as if amazed at their regression into younger years.
"Your fingers would remember their own strength better if they grasped your sword," Gandalf mildly suggested, and sent Hàma, one of the guards, to bring the King's sword. Hàma reverently handed the King his sword. He drew it, examining it as if for the first time. Sword in hand, he turned a speculative eye on Gríma.
"Hope they've got a guillotine or something handy for him," Ella said fiercely to Legolas and Gimli. The French Revolution did have some uses in modern life.
"This coming from the witch who doesn't deign to get her hands dirty, even though she's very well capable of tackling those guards," Legolas replied.
"That's different," Ella said defensively, ignoring the raised eyebrow. Gríma was forcibly tossed down the stone steps leading up to the throne room, and Ella felt slightly vindicated. Those steps looked pretty hard.
"I've only ever served you, my lord," he pleaded.
"You would have had me crawling on all four like a beast!" Théoden accused, the hard edge of anger tangible in his voice. He raised his sword with his newfound strength, ready to decapitate the worm. Aragorn rushed down the steps after him and caught his arm as it was about to fall.
"Let him go," he beseeched, "Enough blood has been spilled on his account."
Gríma pushed through the crowd at the foot of the stairs, wiping blood from his mouth. He went to the stable and took a horse, galloping out of Edoras. Ella felt sorry for that horse. Gríma could have used some exercise anyway, and if they were really lucky, some hungry beast would stumble on his trail and put him out of his misery. She surprised herself with these thoughts; having previously believed that no one deserved death, but many of her other beliefs had changed with her new experiences. Thinking about this, she, Legolas, Aragorn, and Gimli reentered the hall. Gandalf and King Théoden had gone. For a while, the remnants of the Fellowship sat in the throne room, not discussing much of anything.
"I'm off," Ella said, rising, "They have baths around here somewhere, I'm assuming, though I could be mistaken. Some of those guards--" Ella gave them a meaningful glance and left. She wandered the halls until finally she admitted she was lost. Resolving to ask the next person she saw for directions, she heard footsteps and called, "Excuse me!" Legolas turned around. She hadn't recognized him with his hair wet.
"Got lost?" he asked.
"Well--" Ella replied, trying to think of a reason why she was still wandering the halls.
"Come on," Legolas said. He smelled good. No, he always smelled good, kind of like the cedar you put in your closet-- ~Why am I thinking about the way he smells?!~ Ella asked herself, exasperated. They turned the corner.
"Here we are," he said. Ella flashed him a bright smile of thanks and went inside. It was steamy, but there were enough basins lining the walls full of water hot enough to please the most ardent soaker. Ella climbed in, and took her time rubbing off all the collected grime from the road. She squeezed most of the water out of her hair with her hands, and noticed some split ends forming. Her hair had never been this long, so she wasn't surprised. She found some clean breeches and a tunic, and cinched the too large clothes at her waist with her sword belt. She pulled on her worn leather boots, and headed for the kitchens. Begging for a pair of shears, she cut her hair off an out of the way corner. A couple of curls fell to the ground. She turned away to give the shears back to the kitchen helper. Going back to her corner with a broom, she ran into Legolas.
"Somehow I knew I'd find you here," he said.
"Ha. Very funny, but no, I'm not stuffing my face. I was just cutting my hair," Ella replied.
"I know," Legolas said, and quickly added, "We are to dine with the King and his niece, the Lady Éowyn."
"Who's she?" Ella asked.
"Do you remember the blonde woman in the throne room?"
"Faintly."
"That's her," Legolas said, "Come on, we will be eating soon." They walked back toward the throne room, but gathered in a smaller side chamber. Théoden, Gandalf, Éowyn, Aragorn and Gimi were already there. There was a warm fire, for which Ella and her damp hair were thankful for. She settled into a seat next to Aragorn, across from Gimli on a comfortable wooden bench, and quickly downed some sort of stew. There was a bun, flecked with bits of spices, which Ella particularly enjoyed, and she snagged Gimli's when he was busy with his mug of ale. Legolas watched her do this, amused, and offered her his. Ella accepted it as if nothing was amiss, further amusing the elf. While she ate, she saw the Lady Éowyn frequently look toward her, before she realized it was Aragorn who the Lady's eyes so often sought. To her dismay, Aragorn caught her eyes, and smiled gently at her. Ella was surprised, but kept her bit of intelligence to herself. When Ella had sated her initial hunger, she listened in on what was going on.
"They had no warning, they were unarmed," said Éowyn, who was attending several refugee children when she wasn't transfixed by Aragorn, "Now the wild men are moving through the west, burning as they go."
Gandalf gestured to the children and said, "This is but a taste of the terror that Saruman has unleashed. Ride out and meet him head-on. Draw him away from your women and children." Gandalf placed his hand over King Théoden's. Ella could see the King flinch away, and understood why. Not so long ago, Gríma had been at the King's right arm, trying to persuade him to act as Saruman wished him to. ~Don't overdo it, Gandalf.~ Ella thought nervously. "You must fight!" Gandalf stressed.
"You have two thousand good men riding north as we speak. Éomer is loyal to you. His men will return and fight for their king," Aragorn said.
"They will be three hundred leagues from here by now," King Théoden said. "Éomer cannot help us." He continued in a decided voice, "I know what it is you want of me, but I will not bring further death to my people. I will not risk open war."
"Open war is upon you," Aragorn stated, "Whether you would risk it or not."
"When last I looked," King Théoden said, scowling at Aragorn, "Théoden, not Aragorn, was King of Rohan."
Ella rose with a creak of the wooden bench. She had become more and more frustrated as the talks went with the King's disinclination to listen to reason.
"Do not let your fear of being controlled again overrule your good sense," Ella implored, trying to flatter the him, and criticize at once, "We do not seek to influence your decisions for our own means. You know that." Ella could see the set facial expression of King Théoden, and knew that his mind was already made up, and there was nothing to be done about it.
"And you are?" he asked condescendingly. Ella couldn't bite back her angry retort.
"One who can see that kings do not know enough to disregard their advisors," she said scathingly, seeing everything tinged with red. She furiously whirled and marched out of the room, feeling eyes on her back. Leaning against the opposite wall out side the doors, her breathing gradually slowed. She listened to the rest of the meeting.
"Then what is the King's decision?" Gandalf asked.
"We will seek refuge in Helm's Deep," was the reply.
A moment later, Gandalf appeared.
"What was the meaning of that outburst in there?" he asked, white around the lips.
"He was acting so stupid!" Ella cried, "He knows that you wouldn't fool him, but he still refused to listen! As a king, you owe it to your people that your decision is well informed. Not listening to the other side is not a well-informed opinion!"
Gandalf's anger abated a little, but he was still far from happy.
"There was still some chance that we could have convinced him." He said.
"You know there wasn't. He stopped listening, his mind was made up," Ella replied, her voice laced with contempt for the King's foolishness.
"You are going to be working closely with him, Aragorn, Gimli, and Legolas in this war. You must put this aside and apologize to the King. This irresponsibility, letting your temper get the better of you, is not characteristic, and I hope never to see a repeat of this. Wizards do not give in to their human emotions when something more important, like this, is at stake." Gandalf told her.
"I must leave now," he added, "Accompany me to the stables."
Ella and Gandalf met with the rest of the companions at the doors to the stables. Hàma and others had told the people to mobilize, and no one stood idle.
"They flee to the mountains when they should stand and fight!" Gimli grumbled.
"Théoden is only doing what he thinks is best for his people," Aragorn replied. "Helm's Deep has saved them in the past."
They had reached the door to Shadowfax's stable. Gandalf swung the door open, saying, "Théoden is walking into a trap. He thinks he's leading them to safety, but what they will get is a massacre." Gandalf rubbed the horse's sleek nose. "Théoden has a strong will, but I fear for him. I fear for the survival of Rohan. He will need you both," he said, looking from Aragorn to Ella, "before the end. The people of Rohan will need you. The defenses must hold." Gandalf said, giving each of them a meaningful look.
"They will hold," Aragorn said with assurance. Ella solemnly nodded her agreement.
"There will be no more rashness out of me," Ella promised. "Clear, levelheaded decisions, and wise use of magic. My first act will be finding the King, and humbly begging his forgiveness." Seeing Gandalf's skeptical look, she added, "I'll eat humble pie if I need to."
"The Grey Pilgrim. That's what they used to call me. Three hundred lives of men I walked this earth, and now I have no time. Look to my coming at the first light of the fifth day. At dawn, look to the East." With that, Gandalf mounted his giant white horse and galloped out of the stables. Legolas, Gimli and Aragorn all left the stables, leaving Ella alone. Several sleek heads stuck their noses out of their stalls to examine their visitor. Ella stroked the velvet nose of a pretty grey filly. She should be preparing for Helm's Deep and battle, but she didn't really know what she could do. Giving the filly one last affectionate pat, Ella went off to the armory to find a couple of good knives, just in case she was separated from her sword in battle. Ella roamed the weapons sitting on shelves and mounted on the walls, searching for knives that were light and manageable. She found one with nice balance, almost long enough to be a rapier. The hilt that fit her hand nicely, so she stuck it in her sword belt.
Looking across the room, Ella saw Éowyn fencing with Aragorn. Ella's brows drew together. Arwen had been her friend while she stayed at Rivendell, and for her sake, Ella didn't like this blonde interloper. Ella could see Éowyn's eyes grow as big and moony as calf eyes when she looked at Aragorn. It was so painfully obvious that Éowyn was interested in Aragorn that even Gimli could probably be able to see it. And, Aragorn shouldn't be encouraging it as far as Ella was concerned. She found a short, thin knife and stuck it in her boot top, setting off to find the King of Rohan for her next fun task.
Ella hunted through what seemed to her half of Edoras before she found him issuing orders about supplies.
"A moment of your time, please, Your Majesty," Ella requested. The King turned to her, and his gaze narrowed.
"Yes? Be quick," he snapped.
"I beg your forgiveness. Please accept my apology and not let it poison our future relations. I am more than willing to help you in the coming days," Ella said as smoothly and as meekly as she could manage.
From the look on Théoden's face, Ella could see he was tempted to turn her away, despite her groveling. But probably for the sake of peace, or at least the semblance of it, he gruffly accepted her apology.
Ella walked away, happy that was over. Apologizing had never been her favorite thing to do, and it seemed like she had to do it a lot lately. From listening to the goings-on, Ella knew that they were to set out the next morning. She was pretty sure that she had her belongings ready to go. All seven of them, too. She wasn't exactly rolling in money here. All of Théoden's warriors were to be riding, so Ella wasn't really worried about crossing the entire plains on foot for the second time in a fortnight. What really worried her was her magic. For a little while, she had been siphoning off all that she could spare and storing it in her sword, hoping she'd have enough when she needed it. She decided to try and find Legolas and her spell book for some last minute instruction. Ella finally found him sitting by the fire in a small, sparsely furnished chamber.
"Hi," Ella said, not understanding why she suddenly felt so shy. Legolas looked up, and for the first time, she found blue eyes disconcerting. Ella, fearing he would notice her heightened color, quickly rushed to the fire and pretended to warm her hands, hoping the heat would give her a reason for her flush.
"I was-er-cold," she said by way of explanation.
"Ah."
"Gandalf's gone," Ella said. ~Way to go, Ella!~ she thought, ~Great statement of the obvious.~ But she plunged on, "I was hoping you'd read some spells to me. I feel incredibly unprepared." Legolas smiled, recalling his first patrol.
"The first time I ever faced battle was on my first patrol. I was proud to be going," he said.
"What?" Ella asked, "Emotion from you?" He grinned, and continued, "I was actually hoping for conflict. When the orcs came, I thought I was ready." Legolas rolled up his sleeve, revealing a small, thin white scar. Ella moved over to sit next to him so she could see it.
"I didn't even notice this until it was over. It was deep, for elves to do not normally scar."
"And the moral is that I'll be so caught up in battle that I won't need to think much?" Ella asked, "Maybe I should just steal Gimli's fire water and go in drunk."
"That, too, is an option," Legolas acknowledged with a smile and nod of his head. He had been mending a small tear in his packs, so he pulled out the spell book, and looked through it.
"Care to throw lightening bolts?" he asked.
"That sound rather interesting," Ella said, "Read it to me?"
Legolas read her the spell once over, then Ella tried it.
"Lightening shoot from my hand And strike wherever I command!"
Ella felt heat surge down her arm, and a small, narrow electric bolt shot out of her outstretched palm. It struck a nearby chair, which started smoking, and was gradually fanned into in flames. Legolas and Ella both leapt up. Ella tried to stomp out the fire, singing her clothes in the process, and Legolas tore down a tapestry from the walls and was trying to smother the fire. ~Ella,~ came the calm voice in her head, ~ You're a witch. Put out the fire.~ Feeling remarkably stupid, Ella intoned,
"Flames burning up the chair, Die down as if you have no air!"
And the fire sputtered to a halt.
"That was rather uncontrollable," Ella remarked, "Might be useful shot into a whole group of orcs if I ever have more power at my call." She pictured the chaos favorably.
"Anyway, thanks," Ella said, her shyness returning, "I'm gonna go to sleep." And with a hesitant smile, she walked out of the room, her foot catching on a charred piece of wood.
Ella was awoken the next morning at dawn, and even though she bitterly missed the days of rising at her leisure, or around noon, the morning was so cheerful that she couldn't stay grouchy. Forcing herself to rise, she stretched her stiff muscles until they became more limber. Ella wasn't looking forward to clambering onto her horse's broad back, and was surprised when strong hands boosted her up.
"Thanks," she said to Legolas from atop her horse. She shifted around, vainly trying to get into a more comfortable position on the saddle. Despite her saddle soreness, Ella was feeling more alive than she had on previous mornings. She knew that her magic would be stronger than it had been in a while, having finally recovered from the drain. For the first time in days, they followed a path, one that led toward Edoras. The first signs of fall were apparent to the astute observer. The tips of leaves were becoming tinged with crimson, and the air had the crispness breathed only during fall.
Ella's first impression of Edoras was one of vulnerability, because if its disrepair. She examined the wall surrounding it, and didn't think it would hold against any sort of medieval catapult, not matter how crude the siege engine was. The houses also seemed to sag, their former days of glory long gone. On horseback, they approached King Théoden's home. They climbed the grey stone staircase and were met at the double doors.
"I cannot allow you before King Théoden so armed, Gandalf Grayhame. By order of Gríma Wormtongue." A guard said officiously. Ella wondered who Gríma Wormtongue could be. A name like that positively reeked of guile and duplicity. Gandalf nodded his permission, and the companions disarmed. Ella handed a guard her sword belt. Legolas twirled his knives before handing them over. ~Show off,~ Ella thought.
"Your staff," the head guard said.
"Oh," Gandalf said deprecatingly, "You would not part an old man from his walking stick."
The guard nodded his assent, and Gandalf pretended to lean heavily on Legolas' arm, though he stopped the act once they entered the throne room. The chamber was cavernous, but it was everything from the stone floor to the tapestries were dingy. At the center of the dais sat a man so crumpled with age that he looked almost dwarfish. His grey hair was matted and lay dully on his rich but faded robes.
"The courtesy of your hall is somewhat lessened of late, Théoden, King," Gandalf called loudly. Ella watched as a sharp, cunning looking man with limp black hair and hooded eyes whispered into the King's ear. This must be Wormtongue, for no other name could fit such a viper.
"Why should I welcome you, Gandalf Stormcrow?" King Théoden asked haltingly. Gríma Wormtongue rose, "Late is the hour at which this conjurer chooses to appear. Ill news is ill guessed," he said in his oily voice.
"Be silent! Keep your forked tongue behind your teeth. I have not passed through fire and death to bandy words with a witless worm," Gandalf commanded, his voice cracking like a whip.
The guards rushed the companions. Ella froze the nearest one, as well as several others, preferring not to beat them to a pulp. ~Behind you!~ came her mental advisor. It was a good moment for he (or maybe she) to show up. One of the brighter guards had crept up behind Ella with every intention of braining her with a stout club, intelligently deciding to get rid of the worst potential threat -the witch- first. Ella ducked as he was about to swing, and sent a sharp elbow into his stomach. She turned around and swept his feet off the floor, leaving him in a heap. Gimli had pinned Gríma to the ground, and almost looked like he was reading him his Miranda rights.
"Too long have you stayed in the shadows!" Gandalf said to the King when he reached the foot of the dais. "I release you," Gandalf said. Ella felt the surge of power, noticeably stronger than what he wielded in the days when he was a Grey wizard. His efforts were met with a dusty laugh from the king, surprising from one who looked like he could be toppled by the nudge of a finger.
"You have no power here, Gandalf the Grey!" the King jeered. Gandalf advanced onto the dais, and threw back his grey cloak, revealing the snow- white robes and dazzling presence of a White wizard. The King's laugh was abruptly cut off, and a grunt of fear escaped his throat.
"I will draw you, Saruman, as poison is drawn from a wound," Gandalf declared. King Théoden squirmed in his throne, trying to escape the wizard. Ella finally realized that Saruman possessed the King. At that moment, Ella saw a blonde woman come into the throne room from a side entrance and try to go to Théoden. Aragorn caught her in his arms, preventing her.
"If I go, Théoden dies," threatened Saruman through the King.
"You did not kill me, you will not kill him," Gandalf said firmly. Ella felt another surge of power from Gandalf.
"Rohan is mine," sneered the King. Again, Gandalf reached out his staff, this time King Théoden was thrown back in his throne. Ella watched, astonished, as the years melted from the King's face, leaving him a much younger man. The blonde woman leapt up to the dais, and caught the King, pushing him back onto his throne.
"I know your face," King Théoden breathed, looking into the woman's face. "Éowyn. Éowyn. Gandalf."
"Breathe the free air again, my friend," Gandalf said, smiling.
"Dark have been my dreams of late," King Théoden said. He regarded his hand, as if amazed at their regression into younger years.
"Your fingers would remember their own strength better if they grasped your sword," Gandalf mildly suggested, and sent Hàma, one of the guards, to bring the King's sword. Hàma reverently handed the King his sword. He drew it, examining it as if for the first time. Sword in hand, he turned a speculative eye on Gríma.
"Hope they've got a guillotine or something handy for him," Ella said fiercely to Legolas and Gimli. The French Revolution did have some uses in modern life.
"This coming from the witch who doesn't deign to get her hands dirty, even though she's very well capable of tackling those guards," Legolas replied.
"That's different," Ella said defensively, ignoring the raised eyebrow. Gríma was forcibly tossed down the stone steps leading up to the throne room, and Ella felt slightly vindicated. Those steps looked pretty hard.
"I've only ever served you, my lord," he pleaded.
"You would have had me crawling on all four like a beast!" Théoden accused, the hard edge of anger tangible in his voice. He raised his sword with his newfound strength, ready to decapitate the worm. Aragorn rushed down the steps after him and caught his arm as it was about to fall.
"Let him go," he beseeched, "Enough blood has been spilled on his account."
Gríma pushed through the crowd at the foot of the stairs, wiping blood from his mouth. He went to the stable and took a horse, galloping out of Edoras. Ella felt sorry for that horse. Gríma could have used some exercise anyway, and if they were really lucky, some hungry beast would stumble on his trail and put him out of his misery. She surprised herself with these thoughts; having previously believed that no one deserved death, but many of her other beliefs had changed with her new experiences. Thinking about this, she, Legolas, Aragorn, and Gimli reentered the hall. Gandalf and King Théoden had gone. For a while, the remnants of the Fellowship sat in the throne room, not discussing much of anything.
"I'm off," Ella said, rising, "They have baths around here somewhere, I'm assuming, though I could be mistaken. Some of those guards--" Ella gave them a meaningful glance and left. She wandered the halls until finally she admitted she was lost. Resolving to ask the next person she saw for directions, she heard footsteps and called, "Excuse me!" Legolas turned around. She hadn't recognized him with his hair wet.
"Got lost?" he asked.
"Well--" Ella replied, trying to think of a reason why she was still wandering the halls.
"Come on," Legolas said. He smelled good. No, he always smelled good, kind of like the cedar you put in your closet-- ~Why am I thinking about the way he smells?!~ Ella asked herself, exasperated. They turned the corner.
"Here we are," he said. Ella flashed him a bright smile of thanks and went inside. It was steamy, but there were enough basins lining the walls full of water hot enough to please the most ardent soaker. Ella climbed in, and took her time rubbing off all the collected grime from the road. She squeezed most of the water out of her hair with her hands, and noticed some split ends forming. Her hair had never been this long, so she wasn't surprised. She found some clean breeches and a tunic, and cinched the too large clothes at her waist with her sword belt. She pulled on her worn leather boots, and headed for the kitchens. Begging for a pair of shears, she cut her hair off an out of the way corner. A couple of curls fell to the ground. She turned away to give the shears back to the kitchen helper. Going back to her corner with a broom, she ran into Legolas.
"Somehow I knew I'd find you here," he said.
"Ha. Very funny, but no, I'm not stuffing my face. I was just cutting my hair," Ella replied.
"I know," Legolas said, and quickly added, "We are to dine with the King and his niece, the Lady Éowyn."
"Who's she?" Ella asked.
"Do you remember the blonde woman in the throne room?"
"Faintly."
"That's her," Legolas said, "Come on, we will be eating soon." They walked back toward the throne room, but gathered in a smaller side chamber. Théoden, Gandalf, Éowyn, Aragorn and Gimi were already there. There was a warm fire, for which Ella and her damp hair were thankful for. She settled into a seat next to Aragorn, across from Gimli on a comfortable wooden bench, and quickly downed some sort of stew. There was a bun, flecked with bits of spices, which Ella particularly enjoyed, and she snagged Gimli's when he was busy with his mug of ale. Legolas watched her do this, amused, and offered her his. Ella accepted it as if nothing was amiss, further amusing the elf. While she ate, she saw the Lady Éowyn frequently look toward her, before she realized it was Aragorn who the Lady's eyes so often sought. To her dismay, Aragorn caught her eyes, and smiled gently at her. Ella was surprised, but kept her bit of intelligence to herself. When Ella had sated her initial hunger, she listened in on what was going on.
"They had no warning, they were unarmed," said Éowyn, who was attending several refugee children when she wasn't transfixed by Aragorn, "Now the wild men are moving through the west, burning as they go."
Gandalf gestured to the children and said, "This is but a taste of the terror that Saruman has unleashed. Ride out and meet him head-on. Draw him away from your women and children." Gandalf placed his hand over King Théoden's. Ella could see the King flinch away, and understood why. Not so long ago, Gríma had been at the King's right arm, trying to persuade him to act as Saruman wished him to. ~Don't overdo it, Gandalf.~ Ella thought nervously. "You must fight!" Gandalf stressed.
"You have two thousand good men riding north as we speak. Éomer is loyal to you. His men will return and fight for their king," Aragorn said.
"They will be three hundred leagues from here by now," King Théoden said. "Éomer cannot help us." He continued in a decided voice, "I know what it is you want of me, but I will not bring further death to my people. I will not risk open war."
"Open war is upon you," Aragorn stated, "Whether you would risk it or not."
"When last I looked," King Théoden said, scowling at Aragorn, "Théoden, not Aragorn, was King of Rohan."
Ella rose with a creak of the wooden bench. She had become more and more frustrated as the talks went with the King's disinclination to listen to reason.
"Do not let your fear of being controlled again overrule your good sense," Ella implored, trying to flatter the him, and criticize at once, "We do not seek to influence your decisions for our own means. You know that." Ella could see the set facial expression of King Théoden, and knew that his mind was already made up, and there was nothing to be done about it.
"And you are?" he asked condescendingly. Ella couldn't bite back her angry retort.
"One who can see that kings do not know enough to disregard their advisors," she said scathingly, seeing everything tinged with red. She furiously whirled and marched out of the room, feeling eyes on her back. Leaning against the opposite wall out side the doors, her breathing gradually slowed. She listened to the rest of the meeting.
"Then what is the King's decision?" Gandalf asked.
"We will seek refuge in Helm's Deep," was the reply.
A moment later, Gandalf appeared.
"What was the meaning of that outburst in there?" he asked, white around the lips.
"He was acting so stupid!" Ella cried, "He knows that you wouldn't fool him, but he still refused to listen! As a king, you owe it to your people that your decision is well informed. Not listening to the other side is not a well-informed opinion!"
Gandalf's anger abated a little, but he was still far from happy.
"There was still some chance that we could have convinced him." He said.
"You know there wasn't. He stopped listening, his mind was made up," Ella replied, her voice laced with contempt for the King's foolishness.
"You are going to be working closely with him, Aragorn, Gimli, and Legolas in this war. You must put this aside and apologize to the King. This irresponsibility, letting your temper get the better of you, is not characteristic, and I hope never to see a repeat of this. Wizards do not give in to their human emotions when something more important, like this, is at stake." Gandalf told her.
"I must leave now," he added, "Accompany me to the stables."
Ella and Gandalf met with the rest of the companions at the doors to the stables. Hàma and others had told the people to mobilize, and no one stood idle.
"They flee to the mountains when they should stand and fight!" Gimli grumbled.
"Théoden is only doing what he thinks is best for his people," Aragorn replied. "Helm's Deep has saved them in the past."
They had reached the door to Shadowfax's stable. Gandalf swung the door open, saying, "Théoden is walking into a trap. He thinks he's leading them to safety, but what they will get is a massacre." Gandalf rubbed the horse's sleek nose. "Théoden has a strong will, but I fear for him. I fear for the survival of Rohan. He will need you both," he said, looking from Aragorn to Ella, "before the end. The people of Rohan will need you. The defenses must hold." Gandalf said, giving each of them a meaningful look.
"They will hold," Aragorn said with assurance. Ella solemnly nodded her agreement.
"There will be no more rashness out of me," Ella promised. "Clear, levelheaded decisions, and wise use of magic. My first act will be finding the King, and humbly begging his forgiveness." Seeing Gandalf's skeptical look, she added, "I'll eat humble pie if I need to."
"The Grey Pilgrim. That's what they used to call me. Three hundred lives of men I walked this earth, and now I have no time. Look to my coming at the first light of the fifth day. At dawn, look to the East." With that, Gandalf mounted his giant white horse and galloped out of the stables. Legolas, Gimli and Aragorn all left the stables, leaving Ella alone. Several sleek heads stuck their noses out of their stalls to examine their visitor. Ella stroked the velvet nose of a pretty grey filly. She should be preparing for Helm's Deep and battle, but she didn't really know what she could do. Giving the filly one last affectionate pat, Ella went off to the armory to find a couple of good knives, just in case she was separated from her sword in battle. Ella roamed the weapons sitting on shelves and mounted on the walls, searching for knives that were light and manageable. She found one with nice balance, almost long enough to be a rapier. The hilt that fit her hand nicely, so she stuck it in her sword belt.
Looking across the room, Ella saw Éowyn fencing with Aragorn. Ella's brows drew together. Arwen had been her friend while she stayed at Rivendell, and for her sake, Ella didn't like this blonde interloper. Ella could see Éowyn's eyes grow as big and moony as calf eyes when she looked at Aragorn. It was so painfully obvious that Éowyn was interested in Aragorn that even Gimli could probably be able to see it. And, Aragorn shouldn't be encouraging it as far as Ella was concerned. She found a short, thin knife and stuck it in her boot top, setting off to find the King of Rohan for her next fun task.
Ella hunted through what seemed to her half of Edoras before she found him issuing orders about supplies.
"A moment of your time, please, Your Majesty," Ella requested. The King turned to her, and his gaze narrowed.
"Yes? Be quick," he snapped.
"I beg your forgiveness. Please accept my apology and not let it poison our future relations. I am more than willing to help you in the coming days," Ella said as smoothly and as meekly as she could manage.
From the look on Théoden's face, Ella could see he was tempted to turn her away, despite her groveling. But probably for the sake of peace, or at least the semblance of it, he gruffly accepted her apology.
Ella walked away, happy that was over. Apologizing had never been her favorite thing to do, and it seemed like she had to do it a lot lately. From listening to the goings-on, Ella knew that they were to set out the next morning. She was pretty sure that she had her belongings ready to go. All seven of them, too. She wasn't exactly rolling in money here. All of Théoden's warriors were to be riding, so Ella wasn't really worried about crossing the entire plains on foot for the second time in a fortnight. What really worried her was her magic. For a little while, she had been siphoning off all that she could spare and storing it in her sword, hoping she'd have enough when she needed it. She decided to try and find Legolas and her spell book for some last minute instruction. Ella finally found him sitting by the fire in a small, sparsely furnished chamber.
"Hi," Ella said, not understanding why she suddenly felt so shy. Legolas looked up, and for the first time, she found blue eyes disconcerting. Ella, fearing he would notice her heightened color, quickly rushed to the fire and pretended to warm her hands, hoping the heat would give her a reason for her flush.
"I was-er-cold," she said by way of explanation.
"Ah."
"Gandalf's gone," Ella said. ~Way to go, Ella!~ she thought, ~Great statement of the obvious.~ But she plunged on, "I was hoping you'd read some spells to me. I feel incredibly unprepared." Legolas smiled, recalling his first patrol.
"The first time I ever faced battle was on my first patrol. I was proud to be going," he said.
"What?" Ella asked, "Emotion from you?" He grinned, and continued, "I was actually hoping for conflict. When the orcs came, I thought I was ready." Legolas rolled up his sleeve, revealing a small, thin white scar. Ella moved over to sit next to him so she could see it.
"I didn't even notice this until it was over. It was deep, for elves to do not normally scar."
"And the moral is that I'll be so caught up in battle that I won't need to think much?" Ella asked, "Maybe I should just steal Gimli's fire water and go in drunk."
"That, too, is an option," Legolas acknowledged with a smile and nod of his head. He had been mending a small tear in his packs, so he pulled out the spell book, and looked through it.
"Care to throw lightening bolts?" he asked.
"That sound rather interesting," Ella said, "Read it to me?"
Legolas read her the spell once over, then Ella tried it.
"Lightening shoot from my hand And strike wherever I command!"
Ella felt heat surge down her arm, and a small, narrow electric bolt shot out of her outstretched palm. It struck a nearby chair, which started smoking, and was gradually fanned into in flames. Legolas and Ella both leapt up. Ella tried to stomp out the fire, singing her clothes in the process, and Legolas tore down a tapestry from the walls and was trying to smother the fire. ~Ella,~ came the calm voice in her head, ~ You're a witch. Put out the fire.~ Feeling remarkably stupid, Ella intoned,
"Flames burning up the chair, Die down as if you have no air!"
And the fire sputtered to a halt.
"That was rather uncontrollable," Ella remarked, "Might be useful shot into a whole group of orcs if I ever have more power at my call." She pictured the chaos favorably.
"Anyway, thanks," Ella said, her shyness returning, "I'm gonna go to sleep." And with a hesitant smile, she walked out of the room, her foot catching on a charred piece of wood.