A.N.: I am mixing the movie and the books (this is fanfiction, and even I can't write that long…. We would get nowhere. So bear with me, please?)
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Chapter seven: Do not meddle in the affairs of wizards...
"A very honest woman, but something given to lie" Antony and Cleopatra, , Shakespeare.
@ Orthanc, Isengard. March 5th of 3019.
The company rode almost all night; stopping only for the king's few hours' rest. When they arrived in Isengard, a desolated picture was presented: the great tunnels broken, the wide, majestic circular patio flooded. Gigantic rocks were thrown here and there where they'd make the greatest harm, in a wicked decoration that could not possibly have been intended by the Lord of that tower.
The sun was high in the sky, and vapour rose from the caves and underground passages that had been filled with water from the Anduin. The high tower was under siege with the water and the ever-watchful ents.
The committee passed the gates, and they saw two tiny figures laying on the raw rock – children, or very small men; clad in grey and smoking pipes after – apparently, as there were remnants of food and drink there – a lunch. But before they could ask anything one of the children stood up.
"Welcome, my lords, to Isengard. We are the gatekeepers. I am Meriadoc, son of Saradoc; and my companion, who unfortunately is worn with toil" – Merry kicked Pippin's shin at that –"Is Peregrin, son of Paladin, of the House of Tûk. Our house lies there in the north. Lord Saruman is locked with some Wormtongue, otherwise he'd come to receive such honourable guests."
Damon turned to Legolas and Gimli, who were riding together on his left, and asked, "Weren't they those halflings you were seeking?" Legolas nodded slightly, because Gimli was fuming so that he couldn't answer anything. That was when Gandalf laughed hard and got everyone's attention.
"No doubt he'd be. And did Saruman ask for you to watch the gate, when you could turn your gaze from food and drink?"
"No, milord, he forgot that" answered Merry seriously.
"What about your companions? What about Legolas and I?" Gimli finally managed to speak, insulting the little hobbits for the next ten generations. His cussing succeeded on waking Pippin, as the dwarf was hell bent on making them feel guilty. Legolas put some more fuel to the fire asking how they managed to get wine.
Theoden laughed, the knights teased them, and elf, dwarf and dunadan proceeded to share stories and ask questions to one another. In the midst of the euphoria, nobody noticed the renegades were no longer there.
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"Damie, now what?" Arien asked when they apparated at the tower's roof.
"Nothing bad. Just that this is a golden opportunity to inspect this wizard's lair." He answered, drawing his wand out of his pocket. It was willow,15" and had a core of unicorn hair. Most of the wands Arien made had a core like that.
Her own was phoenix feather, 13 inches and made of cedar. An exceptionally light cedar. "I'm not really sure of this, Damie." She said, looking around. The roof was a plain platform, with a few columns born from the base of the tower that grew a couple meters higher than the tower itself, rising like the claws of a panther. The ground was a good two miles below them. "We do not know the ways of these Istari, nor how powerful they really are."
"Saruman is not a match for both of us," Damon said with absolute conviction.
From up there they could see their committee had split –Theoden, his men and Gandalf had gone to talk with Treebeard, Aragorn, Legolas and Gimli were talking with the hobbits.
"They must have acknowledged our absence." Arien stated.
"I'll think of something. Come, let's not waste time."
"Why are you always getting me into so much trouble?"
Damon didn't even raise an eyebrow.
Oh, Lord, her babies had grown. And she wasn't sure she liked it very much. It was all good and well to dream of having a school like Hogwarts on her own world, have someone to discuss the intricate art of transfiguration and the subtleties of potions, to have experiments on charms and willing people to help her understand better the ways of the stars and how to apply the earthling astronomy on the sky of Middle-Earth, and having those same loving faces helping her surpass herself on the mysteries of Arithmancy and divination – classes she had never been terrific on.
But apparently she hadn't count on the fact that sooner or later those renegades would grow their wings and fly on their own. she hadn't count on the fact – the mathematical fact – that to them she was still a child, a very talented, prodigiously gifted and unnaturally mature child. But still a child.
Someone to encourage, to pat on the head and to smile understandingly at.
And sometimes, someone to tolerate.
Arien sighed, frustrated, this adult life thing was ending up being worse than she had envisioned while on earth, and she suddenly missed the complexity and at the same time the absurd simplicity of that place – and wasn't that an oxymoron???? "Okay. Get your invisibility cloak and don't enter any room until I check if it's warded."
"All right, Enn." He said with a smile, while taking both cloaks from their bags.
He understood her better than she did herself.
Maybe getting a Comyn partner was a mistake. And come to think of it, she began regretting not picking a Gryffindor also ...
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The meeting had been joyful. Filled with storytelling, wine, ale and an excellent 1417 smoke that placated the righteous fury of the dwarf – "Master Meriadoc, now, in fact I am deeply indebted with you!". However, the Fellowship had other matters to deal with, so the five companions walked over where they had last seen Gandalf and the rohirrim. They met halfway in the road that lead to the one door of Orthanc.
The door faced east, and above the door there was a window with railings, and at the upper floors several windows spied out to the world like curious little eyes. Leading to that door was a stair with 27 large steps, carved in the dark stone with the art craft of old.
Gandalf was the first to climb that stair. "I'll go up. I've been in Orthanc before and am aware of the risk I am taking."
"And I, " said Theoden dismounting. "I wish to face the enemy who caused me so much harm. Éomer shall go with me to help me on my weary feet."
"And Aragorn will come with me," said Gandalf after a moment's thought. "the rest of you can listen and see from the stairs, if there is anything to see and listen."
"No!" protested Gimli. "Legolas and I want a closer look. We are the only representatives of our people."
"That's not accurate, Gimli, as there are two others of my kin with us, though I cannot spot them. Where are your friends, Gandalf?" asked Legolas, searching around with his bright azure eyes, then facing the wizard.
"Those two wouldn't pass an opportunity of talking with the ents. They are probably updating them on the latest gossips of their country – they are very close. But as much as they have come to help, this is not a matter for them. Let us go! I have a final duty to perform."
The king's knights formed two lines across the stairs, waiting on their horses – the people of Rohan felt more comfortable on horses than on the ground, one would say. The hobbits were content on seating at the last step and waiting, feeling very small and unimportant.
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Founders Four, Merlin, Morgaine and all famous wizards in the history of magic of earth, but hell, was this tower high! The renegades went down several floors, exploring room after room as quickly as they could.
Kitchens, guest rooms, living rooms, watching rooms... no, not what they were looking for.
Orthanc still held the beauty of the artcraft of the Men of West who made it at the end of the first age. The tower was like a sculpture in dark stone, onyx or obsidian, with delicate patterns of leaves and stars and elegantly curved lines crossing. Here and there they saw the torch supports, but no fire was lighted – the light was artificial and came from nowhere and from everywhere, making the shadows extremely hard to see. The stairs did not move at will, for it was a work of men, but they were very elegant and very solid.
And very, very long.
"We should find the place he keeps his records in." said Damon, taking wizarding photographs of the firs thing they found worth of inspecting – a rather large potion lab. "He must have a library somewhere."
"I do not recognise any of these." The Ravenclaw whispered.
"Well, you can't expect to know everything."
It took most of her will power not to reply to that. And it hurt most that he wasn't teasing her, it was his honest opinion.
So, after all her hard work, all she had taught them they thought she was useless... a token, a memory of past glory and knowledge.
Should she say she hadn't them shown everything?
No. They'd probably guessed it by now anyway ... no need to boast. 'Save it for a rainy day...'
"Come. We must find that library." she said, opening carefully the door of the lab and looking both ways before leaving and quickly sneaking into the next room. And the next.
In all their way, silence was absolute. The odd thing was, very few of the rooms were warded, and even those not heavily. It was as if Saruman was trusting the structure of the building and his own name to keep any eavesdropping individual at bay. The renegades met only two servants and a few orcs here and there – apparently all Isengard had been emptied in the attack to Helm's Deep. They found the library on the seventh floor, after inspecting another fifteen.
"Now what are we looking at?" asked Arien, glancing the shelves that went from the floor to the ceiling. They'd need hours to find anything in there –but they did not have hours.
"The most recent records we can find, I guess." Damon answered matter-of-factly. They both started scanning the parchments over a large table in the middle of the room, and then proceeded to check the closer shelves methodically.
"Look at this," Arien cleared her throat. "Orthanc, Isengard; February 14th of 22851. Records of the first meeting of the White Council. Attended The Five Wizards, as known – Curunir, Mithrandir, Ellothir, Cerondir and Radagast -, The Lord Celeborn and his Lady Galadriel of Lothlórien, and Lord Elrond half-elven from Rivendell..."
"Lord what?" asked Damon sceptically.
"That's how it is. Now that I think about it, mom did tell me about him—"
"Why on god's green Middle-earth haven't you told me before?"
"Thinking on changing sides, Damon?" asked Arien with a malicious glint in her eyes. Damon turned at her with a face so cold and forbidding she regretted the comment instantly – good thing that anger wasn't directed at her...
"That blasted Traitor! How could he sell himself to ... to them?!?"
"Long story. I don't even think he knows about us. It's a long, celebrated tale here on middle-earth ... haven't you ever heard of Lúthien and Beren?"
"Luthien who?"
"Lúthien. Daughter of Melian the maia and Thingol of Doriath, challenged the family AND Melkor to marry a mortal, Beren. Thingol told him he'd only wed Luthien if he got a silmaril from Melkor's crown –which is virtual suicide, as you may know. He got caught, she escaped her palace to go after him. Legend says she took put Melkor to sleep with enchantments, and she destroyed Melkor's tower down with a song of power, and even touched Mandos – who is known for being a cold-hearted bastard, into 'turning' her mortal and allowing Beren a second life on earth –"
"The short version, please. We are running out of time!" Damon said, but kindly.
Arien pocketed the parchments hurriedly, and continued her tale. "Well, anyway. Elrond is grandchildren to them, and son of Eärendil –but that's another long tale. Elves sing songs about them in their feasts, they praise his ancestors in their meetings. It would be extremely questionable for them to reject him. There was a fuss over something they'd called The Choice – and , once again, legend says his brother Elros chose to be mortal, as Elrond chose immortality. And so goes the tale. Well, that's what mom told me anyway."
"And how come your mother knows so much about those things?" Damon questioned in his silky voice – a sure sign of trouble lying ahead. Damn slytherin curiosity!
"That's none of your business." She said crossly. "Keep looking." It was strangely satisfying to have a renegade older than your mother obeying you. Moved by a weird curiosity, she pulled the parchment off her pockets and resumed her skimming.
"Dol Guldur.... bullshit, bullshit... Sauron raising from the dead and threatening all free people of Middle-Earth, nothing new here. Ah, here! Comments of the members of the council. This Radagast guy seems nice, if a bit too passive. Mithrandir is what we know. Listen to this –"
"Arien!" Damon hissed, buried in parchments. "make yourself useful!"
The door was opened with surprising speed on a building that old, and a familiar sickly pale figured entered –to freeze when he saw who was inside. "What are you doing here? Graloshk! Invaders!" Damon quick as lighting threw his daggers at the man, and Wormtongue fell dead without another word. A group of five orcs entered the library, regardless to the impossibility of taking down two – to them – elves highly proficient in combat. Books fell from the shelves as the corpses were thrown, already dead.
"We have no more time. Reduce those files and take them –we'll read them all when we have some time to spare at Edoras!" Damon said, crossed because they had been caught off guard. It should never happen, much less with them being renegades and invading the den of a wizard. A quick silencing spell and some locking charms allowed them some privacy.
Through the window they could see six people in the stairs before the door. Saruman was nowhere to be seen.
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Theoran had one thought only, oblivious to the fact that thought was plaguing all ten knights waiting by the stairs : "He will betray us. They will go up and discuss questions above the understanding of men, as we stay here to be punished or dismissed, as they will. That's the end of it – we are doomed. Gandalf will betray us."
Saruman had used his enchanting voice on one of them at a time, at first trying to convince Theoden. The king stood firm and passed the test, if a bit shakily; but then again he had lost many people in the hands of Saruman. Now it was different, Saruman had turned his attention to Gandalf, and so powerful was the enchantment no one could resist it – his words seemed so wise, so reasonable, one wanted to do as he was told without questioning, just to look as wise as that voice sounded.
Saruman had said Gandalf misunderstood him. And after a moment's silence, Gandalf laughed. And the spell was broken.
"Saruman, Saruman! You missed your calling, you should have been the king's joker, and made your living so! Alas!" he turned serious, "I understood you well enough last time I was here. I won't go up. But listen, won't you come down? You can go unharmed and free."
"Free? That sounds very much like you, Gandalf the Grey!" yelled Saruman, almost purple in his rage. "So generous, so condescending! I have no doubt you'd think Orthanc comfortable, and my leaving convenient! Why would I want to leave? And what do you mean free? There are conditions, I suppose?"
"Reasons to leave you can see from your window, and others you can think of later." Replied Gandalf. "and you betrayed your new master, or at least tried to – when he turns his eye to Orthanc, it will be the red eye of fury. But when I say free, I mean free, Saruman, even if you want to go to Mordor. But first you should give me your staff and the keys to Orthanc, as a warrant of your behaviour –to be returned later, if you deserve them."
Saruman laughed now, in hysteria and anger. "Later! Yes, when you are the Lord of Barad-dûr, and hold the staffs of the Five Wizards! If you want to negotiate with me, Gandalf, come back when you are sober! And leave alone those assassins and that mob that hangs on your tail. Good day!" he turned to leave, but couldn't, because Gandalf gave him an order.
"Come back, Saruman!"
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"Ouch!" said Arien. "IF he does what I think he will, it will make things easier for us."
On the ground, Gandalf was yelling "Saruman, your staff is broken. Go!"
"If he wasn't so devilishly cunning, we might let him live." Said Arien, watching the Lord of Orthanc retreating to the tower with his tail between his legs.
"We could obliviate him." Offered Damon, making Arien feel very small then. That trip was supposed to bring them closer, instead of making them fall apart. But it seemed nothing she did or said was good enough for the slytherin, and vice-versa.
"And where would he go? What would he think when people rejected, insulted and even lynched him and he didn't even know why?"
"So we kill him out of the goodness of our hearts?"
"Cruel only to be kind."
"if it's easier for you to think so..."
"He's a fucking dark wizard, Damie! What do you expect me to do, invite him for tea?" she hissed, standing up quickly to inspect the rest of the files before she faced the wizard –and that would be the last day of life to Saruman, if she had anything to say about it, and may god have mercy of anyone who stood on her way.
Something she learned on earth : don't let a dark wizard walk out to plan revenge.
Damon grabbed her arm softly, a gesture he hadn't done since they left Aryan. "I'm sorry."
"Come again?" she spoke smugly, unable to wipe the self-satisfied expression out of her face.
"Don't make me repeat it, Arien." He said with a small grin. Then his face turned more serious. "I don't like us fighting like this."
'It is a very rare thing to see a slytherin without his armour', thought Arien. His honesty was touching, more so for the fact his emotions were always so tightly shut (except when he was upset, perhaps). In spite of herself she felt her heart melting, and gave him a tentative smile.
"I'm sorry too. I—" she was interrupted by another orc ( good grace, do these things ever stop coming?), but Damon had his knives drawn and cut his chest before she could even decide if she should use her blades or her wand.
The body of the orc hit a small table near the window, and a dark crystal ball slip from it falling outside the tower.
**'dammit.'
**' I think I'm out of practice.... we were caught off guard twice! better get your wand, Damie, just in case. I'll look for Saruman, but if you don't want to—'
**'I'll go with you.'
**'Thank you.'
Saruman entered the room hurriedly. And screamed.
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"No, that was not thrown by Saruman. It fell from a higher window. A good-bye gift from Wormtongue, I guess, but he has poor aim." Said Gandalf, impassive.
"His aim was poor, perhaps because he couldn't decide who he hated more, you or Saruman." Said Aragorn, and Pippin ran to catch the globe before it hit a pool and sank.
"Here, boy." The wizard took the globe from the hobbit. "This'll stay with me."
"But he could have other things to throw!" said Gimli. "If that is all, let us leave his range."
"It is," said Gandalf philosophically. "It is." The six of them turned their backs to the tower and descended the stair, as the knights cheered his king and applauded. "It is done," said Gandalf again, "And now I must find Treebeard and tell him how things turned out."
The company then rode past the ruined tunnels and to the gates, where the ents were gathered. The renegades were there, sitting on the ents branches, talking animatedly and laughing.
The Walkers stared at the ents in wonder.
"Oh, there you are! I told Legolas you'd be with them!" laughed Gandalf.
"Always a pleasure to meet an ent." Damon said with a bow to Fangorn. Brum-rum-rum, he laughed.
"These are three of my companions, Treebeard. I have spoken of them, but you haven't met yet." Gandalf introduced Aragorn, Gimli and Legolas, with their proper titles. The old ent gazed at them and spoke with each, turning to Legolas in the end.
"So you came from Mirkwood, my good elf? It used to be a great wood in the old days."
"It still is," replied Legolas with his deep voice, "But not so great we who live there are tired of seeing new trees. In fact, I am hoping to visit Fangorn when this is all over."
The ent beamed at the elf's words. "I hope you make your wish come true before the hills age much."
"I will go, if I am lucky. Actually, I agreed with a friend to visit the woods, if all goes well –and you grant us permission."
"Any elf that comes with you will be welcome."
**'traitor!'
**'get a grip, Damie. He may be friends with whomever he wishes.'
"My friend is not an elf. I speak of Gimli son of Glóin."
**'he knows what happened.'
**'he knows more than you and I will ever dream of knowing.'
Gimli bowed, and his axe slipped from the belt. Fangorn voiced a deep Brum-ram-rum! "Wait a bit! I have good will with you elves, but this is a bit much! Axe-carrier dwarf! We do not like axes!"
"Gimli is a friendly creature and a true companion, master Treebeard! And his axe is only for orcs – he killed forty-two in the battle!"
**'such an unlikely friendship and hearty devotion. Certainly things changed in time, Damon. Just look at them."
**'I'll ask more than an isolated case of good-will to change my mind on those tricky creatures, Arien."
"Hmm, that is better! But things shall go as they must go, and we must not hurry them. Nevertheless, Gandalf says you must leave before dusk." Fangorn said. "And I must say good-bye to my friends. We became so close in so short a time that I may be getting hasty as well. But they were the first new things I saw on this lands in a very long time... keep your eyes open and give me news if you have any – you know what I mean, words or news from the entwives! Come yourselves!"
"We will!" the hobbits said.
"Keep watch on Saruman!" Gandalf ordered to Fangorn. "The water is going down through some exit in the caves. Pour the Anduin here again, and again, until Isengard is a perennial lake – he must not escape!"
'he will not, my good Gandalf. He will not.'
Farewells were given hurriedly and soon the company was riding again.
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It was a long ride, crossing the Wizard's Valley and approaching the Southern Mountains again. They stopped after midnight, and the watches were sorted. Arien got the first watch with Eodred, captain of Rohan; the second would be Legolas and Aragorn; and the third Damon and Éomer. the first two hours passed with no novelty, the sky was bright and clear, the night was warm and the camping was silent.
Arien used her Comyn ability twice, scanning the surroundings of the camp –not a soul. Even the wolves were far away. And Eodred was great company – serious but courteous, a simple man with simple words, simple mind and simple life. They spoke at length of Rohan and Eodred's family –he had a brother and a sister, and was engaged with a nice lady in Edoras. His family lived out of shepherds and wheat, and they had a nice enough farm near the west fold.
"And how long has Wormtongue poisoned the king? Certainly someone noticed it?"
"We all have, I guess – may god have mercy on us." Eodred confessed. "But he was still the king, and who would defy him? Theodred tried, and Éomer too – and Theodred was killed in an ambush and Éomer was sent to jail for being loyal. Thing were dark in Meduseld, milady."
"I believe so. But no matter how much I'd like to talk to you, you should get some rest. Let's get the other watchers, shall we?"
Eodred gave her a tired grateful smile in return. He was really tired –the whole day spent in anticipation, long rides and little food. A nap would do wonders to him.
They stood up to go after the others, and Eodred cast a wondering glance on her. Not too far from them the Walkers laid together, wrapped in their elfish cloaks.
Aragorn was sleeping soundly, the sleep of those who are bone-weary and know they won't have much time to rest anyway – the way a soldier sleeps. His hair was all messy and tangled, and he held an eternal four-days beard.
She hated when Sirius let his beard grow.
"Could you?" she mouthed at her vigil companion, while nodding in the general direction of Aragorn. Silently she made her way to the elf, who –she was sure of that as she was sure her name was Arien – had been awake for some time. Being this close to one another, he would have heard her approach as well, but she could always claim she wasn't bothering about being silent, she had come to wake him up for crissake.
Eodred surrounded the sleeping figure to reach Aragorn, who was laying on the left. Gimli laid in the middle, snoring every now and then, and Legolas rested on the right, laying on his side and his arms pillowing the fair head.
'He looks so innocent. Anyone who hadn't seen him at Helm's Deep would think he's an angel sent from God.' Arien thought, crouching beside him. His breath made nearly no movement on his chest. He was lean, rather as a panther than like a skinny man.
His eyes were dark blue- darker than hers, most the time one would think they were black. High cheekbones, elegant eyebrows and to-die-for eyelashes, that was a face she wouldn't mind ogling for centuries.
He was a work of art.
'Ah, my old days on earth... I wouldn't have passed you up, my friend.'
In fact, the elf before her was making her have rather improper thoughts.
"We both know you are awake, Master Legolas. I'm not doing your turn of the watch just because you pretend to be asleep." She said in Sindarin as his eyes immediately lost their misty quality and returned to the usual brightness.
He didn't even have the grace of looking chastised. He even gave a little smile.
"You can't blame me for keeping your lovely company as long as I could, now can you?" he teased.
'By the sea and the stars! What the fucking hell does he think he's doing? The day before he treated me as if I was a nuclear bomb on his keeping, and now he's teasing me! If I didn't know elves are as pure and chaste as nuns I'd even say he's flirting. Well, perhaps some of them are NOT THAT pure and chaste because of us, but nevertheless—'
"I won't blame you for that, but I won't take your turn either. Get up, Master Legolas, 'tis your turn to watch—"
her speech was interrupted by a terrified scream.
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Every being in the camp was now surrounding the little hobbit, Gandalf worrying over him and the others watching in circle.
"It seems like he was hit by a spell." Arien whispered. Legolas narrowed his eyes to her, but she couldn't see it because he was behind her.
"THIS IS NOT FOR YOU, SARUMAN! I'LL SEND FOR HIM IMMEDIATELY!" the hobbit yelled.
"Peregrin Tuk! Said Gandalf, "Come back!"
**'come with me now.' Damie commanded. The Ravenclaw promptly obliged and walked to the borders of the camp, where they started to discuss what could possibly have done that to the hobbit. Gandalf in his turn took more practical measures, interrogating Pippin thoroughly.
'There are only two known elves who had a hair such as that, Cirdan of the Grey havens and Aredhel of the Noldor. From where these two may be? And why don't they speak in sindarin among themselves?' mused Legolas.
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"We have been too sure of ourselves," Gandalf sighed, having finished his interrogation. "Isengard is not safe neighbourhood for us now. I shall go ahead with Pippin, this will do him better than laying in the dark while others sleep."
"I shall stay with Éomer and my knights. We ride with the dawn. The rest may go with Aragorn and leave as they wish." Said Theoden.
"As you wish. But do with the greatest speed to the shelter of Helm's deep or to the temple in the hills."
While Gandalf replied, a black shadow crossed the sky clouding the light of the stars as it went.
"Nazgûl! Storm is coming – the Nazgûl have crossed the river! Ride, ride –do not wait for the dawn! Do not wait for anything!" Gandalf cried, running to Shadowfax, Aragorn went after him, and helped Pippin onto the saddle, and rode away like the north wind blowing.
"Shouldn't we follow them?" asked Damon to his friend in their native tongue. The king's men were undoing their tents and readying the horses, Aragorn ran back to his – borrowed – Hasufel, ordering Merry to go get his things and whatever Pippin may have forgotten.
Merry returned from the camping with only one small packing – he had lost his backpack at Parth Galen – to find everyone else ready and mounting.
"Four members of the fellowship we have left here. Let's keep going together. But not alone, as I had thought, the king wants to go to the Temple in the Hills immediately." Said Aragorn.
"And then to where?" asked Legolas.
"I cannot tell. The king shall go to the army gathering he ordered at Edoras, in four nights. Then the riders of Rohan will have news from the war and go down to Minas Tirith, I think. Except me and whoever wants to follow me."
"Count on me!" cried Legolas, "And me!" said the dwarf. Arien cast a glance on Damon, whom gave her a slight nod. But apparently, he wouldn't talk –whether it was because he wanted her to be more at ease with Aragorn or because he had little wish of speaking with outsiders, she could not tell.
"We will go with you, if you shall let us." Arien declared, speaking for them both. Aragorn nodded.
"As for me, everything around me is darkness. I too shall go to Minas Tirith, but I cannot see the road now.
They hadn't ridden much before one of the scouts went to the king and warned they were being followed. Immediately the king ordered a halt, and they waited for the riders' approach. They were few, no more than twenty. Before they got closer than a mile distant, Éomer yelled. "Halt, halt! Who rides in Rohan?"
A single rider dismounted and walked towards them, his palm held out in a peace gesture. When he thought he'd gotten close enough, he stopped and said "Rohan? You said Rohan? We've been looking for this land. I'm Halbarad Dunadan, a ranger from the north. We are looking for Aragorn, son of Arathorn, and we heard he was here in Rohan."
"And you have found him!" Aragorn cried, jumping to the ground in one swift motion, the reigns tucked in Merry's hands. "from all joys, this is the least expected!"
"It is all right," said Aragorn. "These are some of my relatives, from the distant lives I lived in. But how many, and why they came, Halbarad has to tell us."
"I have thirty with me, who have answered the calling. And Elladan and Elrohir ride with us, as they wanted to go war."
And the company resumed their ride.
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@ Helm's deep valley, March 6th, 3019.
Merry had been made a knight for Rohan. The ceremony, however simple, was touching –it was crystal clear that hobbit and king loved one another already. In the meal after his initiation, Merry entertained Theoden with what tales he could of the Shire. It was a lovely break of all toil and sorrow.
Damon watched intently the conversation between Aragorn and Theoden. The dunedain looked rather grey and tired, and told the rohirrim very grimly that his road should go another way. "Pity, Aragorn my friend," said Éomer. "I hoped we could ride together to the war."
"I shall take the Paths of Dead. But I tell you we may meet again in battle, even if all the armies of Mordor are between us." Aragorn replied.
"Do as you must, my lord Aragorn. It is your fate to walk paths others wouldn't dare. This farewell saddens me, and diminishes my strength, but now I must take the roads to the mountains. Fare well!"
"Fare well, my lord! Ride to fame! Until we met again, Merry! I leave you now in good hands, better than we hoped when we hunted orcs in Fangorn. Legolas and Gimli shall hunt with us, I hope, but we won't forget you."
"Goodbye!" cried Merry, and could not think of anything else to say, because leaving his friends was a terrible burden to him. But he was now a sworn knight of Rohan, and his King needed him. With those words the king called his troops, and the riders galloped to the mountains.
"There go three beings I love, and the smaller of 'em no less." Sighed Aragorn.
"A people of little stature, but great valour. " his relative stated.
"And our fates are intertwined. But now, unfortunately, we have to part. Come now, Legolas, Gimli! I must speak with you as I eat."
They went then inside the hornburg, and took what time they had in their meal and talk.
And as they did, the renegades stood behind with the dunedain.
"Halbarad." Arien called, when it became obvious that Damon wouldn't say a word that day, and probably not in many days to come. Every now and again he would flash her a meaningful smile, but kept his distance – from her as well as from anyone else. It was unnerving, really, to see how he had retreated himself after their encounter with Saruman. They had exchanged few words, most of them when Pippin was jinxed, and his mind was closed to her. "Come here please. Tell me what news you can give me from the war."
Halbarad apparently had no reason to doubt they were 100% elven. With an easy smile – even if it was a tired one – he approached the Ravenclaw in his palomino, dismounting before her and paying all the attention a travelled man with good will should pay to an elven lady.
"The Lady Galadriel sent word for us to Rivendell saying Aragorn needed us and that we would find him in Rohan. From there Elladan and Elrohir went off to meet us in our hidden city in Eriador, where we gathered what men we could in the time we were given." Halbarad said straightforwardly. "What of you?" he added as an afterthought.
'Sorry, pal, but you can't fool me' Arien thought, hiding a smile. **'Damon, get yourself here right now.'
"No one called us, if that's what you want to know."
**' I don't want to interact. Leave me be, woman.'
"How did you know of the war? And how did you know how to find Aragorn?"
She knew the man was hardened by much toil and wouldn't be softened by her charms. It's just that a little display of innocence may come in handy. "We knew of the war because it came to our doors. We have lived in happy isolation for many years –too many years, I might add." There she paused, deciding what to reveal next. "Our Queen gave us orders to go find out what was threatening the balance of power in Middle-earth and do whatever it was in our power to destroy it – and here we are. We never meant to find Lord Aragorn, in fact we were searching for someone else."
"For whom, milady?"
"We were searching for Gandalf." Arien said with lying shamelessly. "And Gandalf we found. Aragorn just came with the package." She smiled again. The dunedain offered a simple smile.
All dunedain looked alike, as family they were. Tall, exceedingly so, none smaller than five feet ten; with rough faces worn by hard work and little joy, and yet they were kind in their words, when decided to give them.
"Why are you so troubled?" Arien asked frankly, sensing he was an honest person who'd prefer an honest approach. It was tiresome really, to mold herself according to the ones she was dealing with: always seizing, always analysing, always searching for the right approach with those different people, seldom able to be herself. Long gone were the days when she could sit with Ginny after a training session and speak her mind freely, or jest with her friends from Ravenclaw without having to plan her words. Even in Aryan she always had to put out a tough façade, remember her pupils she had taken care of herself alone in a very dangerous world and they needed not to treat her like a porcelain doll.
Even if it would be easier to let them lead her, Arien could not let go of the independence she had acquired. She couldn't imagine a life where others ordered her around.
"All this age has my people struggled with the powers of the Dark Lord, wandering in the forgotten paths, watching for the peace in middle-earth. And now Sauron is readying his final strike. If we should fail..." he whispered, his face turning to the east with an expression of suffering.
It was really a thing to see a man who spent all his life on the fighting to open his heart like that. And she had the insight that a compassionate retort would offend him beyond words –males were just like that sometimes. So she turned to rough-to-be-kind mode, and said impatiently. "We fail! But screw your courage to the sticking-place, and we'll not fail."
"Do not take our role on this events so lightly, milady." Said Aragorn, who was returning from the fortress with his friends. His tone, however, was kind, and he seemed to understand and appreciate what she had said.
"There's few things dearer to anyone than one's life, Aragorn; and that's not given lightly." She retorted with as much spirit, with one finely arched eyebrow.
Aragorn gave his men a slight nod that meant they were leaving then. He strode a few steps forward and kneeled in front of her so they were eye-level. "I must now travel a road that is not safe, lady Arien. If you must come, you must come willingly; and I won't lie saying I wouldn't feel better if you did not come with us. Perhaps you should reach the king's company –there is still time for that."
Arien tried to look at Damon with a silent plea for help, but the slytherin was nowhere to be seen. 'Typical. I should have brought a hufflepuff!' the proximity of that stranger was giving on her nerves, he was way too close to her. And those eyes ... those eyes could see your whole soul if you were not very careful.
"I said I would accompany you, and to that I hold. The darkness has been unleashed, Aragorn;" she tried to reason with him. "And there is not a safe place within Middle-earth. And I cannot go back to my country and tell my Queen that I have turned my backs on danger. I will go where I am most needed, and Theoden has his army at his disposition."
"Your partner no longer needs a guide. We can lead them from now on." Aragorn retorted. "And as you said yourself, all Middle-earth is in danger now. There will be many chances for you to help. You have done what you was sent to."
'He doesn't need a guide, he needs a baby-sitter. Like hell I'm leaving him alone with you.'
"You think little of me." She stated, a mix of fury and hurt in her face. After all she had done at Helm's Deep! "Do not judge me as a weakling, Aragorn son of Arathorn, I am no helpless maid screaming for her knight in shining armour. I'd rather have you shooting me than rescuing me if I was endangering the mission. And if you do not allow me in the company, then I'll have to find a shortcut on my own."
And with that she stormed away, hell bent on finding Damon and venting some anger on him. What were friends for anyway?
"Quite the temper our friend has, doesn't she?" said Legolas, returning with his horse to find Aragorn with an even wearier face and Gimli trying to keep his own straight.
"I'm afraid I've offended her in some unforgivable way." He sighed. "But we shall ride to Edoras, and then to the temple on the hills – there I will be able to speak my mind on this matters. What do you think of it, Legolas? What should I do with an elf-lady with that temper?"
"I never knew a nessi with a temper like that. But then again, she is too young yet." Legolas said, pensive. "If our friend there is a true naurgwenn [1], I doubt not she would find her way."
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@ Ered Nimrais (Southern Mountains), Temple in the Hills, Rohan. March 7th of 3019.
Damon never knew how lucky he had been until the company resumed their ride southwards.
They rode all the previous day and all of that day too, with only a few rest pauses for the men to get a nap and eat something. Never for more than one hour and a half. And all the time, he kept his distance from everyone, trying desperately to digest the past events and knowing something had changed forever. But even from his cool detachment, he could see that something had greatly distressed Arien. His partner hasn't joked with any of the men in the company as she had done when they rode with the rohirrim. She had not tried to contact him or speak with him in any way – or with anyone else. The only thing she had said to him in twenty four hours was 'don't forget we have those papers to read when we reach the temple.'
They arrived in the temple with the dusk. And only there Damon learned what was eating Arien – the idiotic human had asked her to stay behind! Of all the impossible things...
If only he knew...
The slytherin could sense her fury like a white-hot wave flooding the whole room. Even some of the people who were not comyn could sense it, albeit Arien kept a mask of cool serenity – the girl was learning how to keep her face unreadable yet, but every now and then she could make it like an expert.
If only her fury was not so deep.
'don't forget we have those papers to read when we reach the temple.' As if he could.
Still thinking of Saruman and Sauron and the people around him, he paid no attention to the little drama unfolding before his eyes. Aragorn told Lady Eowyn everything that happened at Helm's deep, and the Lady's gaze flied from the dunedain, to the renegades, to the Lords of Rivendell(but she kept it mainly at Aragorn).
Deciding that this mortal's affair was too unimportant to the overall picture of things, Damon asked Arien to walk with him outside as soon as the lady stood up from their table. She and Aragorn were discussing about the wisdom of taking the paths of dead – Damon never heard of the place before, but apparently the mortals had real terror of it. It was of little importance. He had a meeting with the records of a certain white council.
Maybe they could find some sort of answer in them.
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They were talking on her room, because she had one for herself, being female –complete with a minute bathroom Arien had used straight away. There wasn't much space on the room itself neither, but it was private –more so than on the camping with the whole dunedain coming and going all the time.
"In few words, Saruman was already on Sauron's pockets by the year 2851 when they first held a meeting –either that, or he was looking for the ring himself, and thought that he could get it if Sauron was left alone—" Arien looked up from her parchments and stared at him. "Damon, are you listening to me?"
"I am." he said shortly.
"Okay then. By the year 2941 he changed tactics –he practically forced the council to take an active position against Sauron. I wonder what could have made him feel threatened? –" her voice kept chanting, while Damon observed her. There was a certain beauty in the way she made her conclusions, in the way she grasped tiny details and reconstituted the will behind the actions. In a few thousand years, she would be a force to be reckoned. More than now. He wondered if she would take a partner, but what partner would handle a spouse so strong-willed? Maybe one of the olders... she had said one day that she preferred older guys...
"Sweet god in heaven!" Arien cried. "Look at this."
He grabbed the parchment she handed him, not yellowed like the others, but rather new by comparison. It was the record of some minions reports about the surveillance they were keeping on the shire and on the southern quarter.
"Saruman does not look like a man who would do something without a purpose. What would he want in the shire?" Damon asked.
"It cannot be the Ring, it wasn't found till... oh shit, the ring was found in 2941. Do you think he knew that?"
"No," the slytherin replied after a moment's thought. "Even for wizards there is a time for the news to spread. it's more likely that he thought Sauron would beat him to the ring and sent what forces he could to distract him while Saruman searched himself."
Arien took her much-used journey out of her bag and began to write with furious speed on it, making observations, drawing timelines, writing comments over comments with her tiny elegant handwriting. One would guess her calligraphy would be more alike herself – fast, nervous, and somewhat twisted. But it was tidy, rounded and elegant, in a way that was neither feminine nor masculine, but her own.
"What made you so upset Arien? Even the mortals realised."
They were talking in antarian, of course. Having a silencing spell may raise suspicions they were not in terms to deal with.
"I thought I had hid my emotions well." She defended herself.
"You hid it well. Only that we could sense it, instead of see it."
"Damn."
Silence.
"Will you not tell me?"
"Do I have to?" she shot back. His face was, as (almost) always, emotionless; and she was the first to back down from the confrontation –her anger was gone, and she would not hit him when he had done nothing wrong. "Aragorn told me to stay behind."
"Aragorn is an idiot."
"He is not! She cried hotly. "He may have been tired. Or else it's just the way he sees the things."
"He thinks you're unable to defend yourself?"
"And that I'll be a burden to them."
"Aragorn, as I said before, is an idiot."
"But perhaps that could work to our advantage..." she whispered, and got lost in her own thoughts. Seeing her face then Damon felt a pang on his heart, the intuition of an impending loss, and his body went cold. "Damon, I have a plan. But you have to be honest when you tell me if you can make it all the way... "
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@ Ered Nimrais (Southern Mountains), Temple in the Hills, Rohan. March 7th of 3019.
Sun had not yet risen in the sky. Eowyn was the first to talk to Aragorn when he left his tent, and no one dared to walk into their conversation – but she seemed extremely distraught, even more if one took in consideration how coldly she held herself at all times. Arien met him shortly afterwards, when the riders were ready to leave.
"Lord Aragorn." She called him. After a moment's pause she added, "With all the respect milord, but you look like shit. Didn't you sleep well this night?"
he lost his balance for a second, but regained his composure quickly enough. Her horse was already readied for a long ride, with a little blanket as a saddle and her backpack filled with supplies for the road. This he saw with a little sigh, and turned his blood-shed eyes to the edhel before him.
"The Path I take, I take it only because of extreme need. You are an excellent warrior, Arien, but I'd prefer not to risk your life in those paths."
'Because I am young, my most honourable knight in shining armour, or because I'm female?'
"The life is mine, Aragorn, to do with it as I will." She replied, and Aragorn shuddered with the memory that claim brought him. "You are the captain of the company, and I cannot impose myself to you. All the pity;" and on that her eyes became bright with unshed tears, "You made a liar and a deserter of me."
"You are still young, Arien. One day, you'll understand."
"Perhaps." She sighed, and turned her gaze to the company. "Do not be too hard on Damon, he has a difficult temper. But he will move heaven and earth to see this task done." And she looked at him again. "As will I. We'll meet at Minas Tirith."
"I will be glad to meet you again. The king's company will be here---"
"I'm not travelling with the king's forces." She said, and mounted her mare. "See you there."
"Milady, there is no other road on these mountains." Aragorn cried, when she was already crossing the gates.
"Then I'll have to make one!"
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A.N.: I hope I have answered here a bit of the question of Elrond and his house. As a matter of fact, it was my fault – I had talked about it on the prequel, and then I didn't do it again here. My apologies.
'I must be cruel only to be kind' – Hamlet, iv.178. Shakespeare. Got a compilation of quotes, lol.
'Always a pleasure to meet a Jedi' – Star Wars, Episode II: The Attack of the clones. Love that movie...
'Macbeth: If we should fail...
Lady Macbeth: We fail!
But screw your courage to the sticking place,
and we'll not fail.' – Macbeth, vii54, Shakespeare.
[1]- sindarin. naur –fire, gwenn-maiden, lass. I 'guessed' the construction here.
Nessi – she-elf (not sure whether it is sindarin or quenya though)