Chapter 2: The prisoner
It was late in the evening and the people of Minas-Tirith were still celebrating the crowning of King Elessar, that was the name by which Aragorn was to be addressed in public from the moment the crown had been set on his royal head.
Gandalf had excused himself from the banquet that was held in honour of Aragorn, because he wanted to check on their new prisoner. He made his way through the huge hall, that was bathed in warm light and filled with the laughter of the feasting guests. Then and again he spotted a familiar face in the crowd.
The hobbits were enjoying themselves very much, because everything was to their heart's content. There were tons of exquisite food and dozens of gallons of delicious red wine. Merry, Pippin and Sam had been almost constantly eating all night long. For the first minutes, when the steaming plates had been just placed in front of them, they had greedily stuffed their faces with food, because they had not had such a good meal in weeks. After receiving some incredulous stares from the humans that were sitting at the hobbits' table, Sam announced, in order to justify his excessive eating habits, in between a mouthful of roasted pork and a huge draught of red wine, that he was particularly skinny for a hobbit and that he had to gain a few pounds before he could return to the Shire in his old glory. Merry and Pippin nodded silently with their mouths full, munching on happily, while the eyes of their hosts grew to the size of saucers in astonishment.
Frodo on the other hand had behaved highly unusual, at least for a hobbit. In comparison with the other three he had eaten very little. The young hobbit preferred spending the evening with long conversations with Aragorn or Faramir rather than with eating and drinking all night long. It seemed that he had become more mature after having gone through all those dangerous adventures and a contemplative frown could often be seen on his face, that had lost its youthful innocence.
Gandalf passed Gimli on his way down to the dungeons. The dwarf was engaged in a vivid conversation with Eowyn who from time to time cast affectionate gazes at Faramir, who returned them with a smile on his lips.
"Lady Eowyn, you are getting me jealous!", Gimli said jokingly, noticing the silent exchange between those two. "Has your heart already been won by someone else?"
She blushed fervently, smiling at him good-naturedly. "No, Master Gimli, you have to know that you are still the only dwarf in my heart," she responded in a joking tone.
Both friends laughed and Gandalf himself couldn't help but smile at the shreds of conversation he overheard, when he passed them by.
Legolas was sitting next to the Gimli and Eowyn, but something seemed to preoccupy him. He was smiling at a joke Gimli had just made, but the smile didn't reach his eyes which had a rather contemplative expression to them. The happenings of this evening were still fresh on his mind and wouldn't let him enjoy the banquet. Conversation seemed to pass him by, though he was interested in it. When he saw Gandalf headed for the dungeons with huge energetic strides, he quickly got to his feet and jogged after him. Then his way was suddenly blocked by a group of happily conversing guests.
"Mithrandir!" he exclaimed, using Gandalf's elven name. The old man stopped and waited for the elf who slowly, but determinedly, made his way through the crowded hall towards him. He reached him and lowered his voice when he continued, "Are you going to see the witch?" The wizard nodded silently and looked at the elf questioningly.
"I have been thinking about the incident all evening long. I was asking myself why anybody would desire to kill Aragorn. He is my friend and I know him very well. I could not think of any reason that would make his person so disagreeable to others that they would want to kill him. He has only done good and risked his a at least dozen times life trying to save Middle- Earth."
"Please, let me go down there and find some answers to all those questions that are running through my head!" Legolas asked the wizard who looked at him with furrowed brows.
"Alright, but keep a close eye on her she might still be dangerous. I have the feeling that we will be dealing with somebody who will mercilessly make use of even the slightest hint of weakness we show," Gandalf informed him and they continued their way down to the palace prison.
A constant frown could be found on Legolas's face while they walked through the dungeons. The elf had a strong dislike for places that were under ground. The prison reminded him all too much of a cave and what made matters worse even a bit of the mines of Moria, which he had hated with all his heart. Elves would never keep their prisoners under such conditions and he remembered the brief time during which Gollum had been under his supervision. Even though the creature had been full of malice and could not been trusted, the elves decided that he should be able to enjoy a breath of fresh air and beautiful sight of nature from time to time. Of course they had kept a close eye on him in the process. The only thing they had themselves to blame for concerning his escape, was that they showed perhaps a bit too much good will and had been slightly naive for believing his seemingly sincere promises that he would not try any tricks on them.
He shook his head and returned to the present, for they had arrived at their destination. "Master Gandalf, Prince Legolas," the guard that stood watch in front of the prison cell, greeted them with a respectful nod, "I assume you came to visit our new arrival?"
"Indeed. Has she already talked to anybody?", the wizard asked curiously.
"No, but she was acting like a mad woman. We went through a lot of trouble getting her into the cell in the first place. A few of my men now have scratched faces thanks to her. She has been screaming insults for the first couple of hours, but after that - nothing. We almost thought that she was gone. But that would be absolutely impossible now, wouldn't it? She would have to be a ghost to be able to slip through the iron bars and this heavy wooden door that I have been guarding like a blood hound all night long," the man answered rather lengthily, beating with his hand against the stable and thick door, in order to emphasis his point.
The two visitors looked at him expectantly and the guard remembered what they came for. It didn't happen often that anybody came down here , so he was thankful for every opportunity he got to talk to anybody. "Of course! You want to enter, don't you?", he said sheepishly, scratching his head. He opened the door and the two men stepped inside the greyish twilight of the prison cell. The guard mumbled something about fetching a torch, but Gandalf held him back.
"Allow me," the wizard said and the crystal on top of his long staff emitted a bright glow, lighting up the entire room. A sharp hiss could be heard from the other side of the bars. The young woman, sitting in a crouched position on the stone floor, shielded her eyes, that were by now used to the darkness in which she had been spending the last hours, from the light with her slender hands.
This was the first time Legolas had the opportunity to take a closer look at her. Her clothes were worn out and their colours were earthy and faded. She seemed to be somebody who was outside very often, because her skin was bronzed and the dirt of many travels was sticking to her shoes and the hem of her simple dress. Her black hair was falling down her shoulders in a wild, tangled mass. Small brown and white feathers were braided into her untamed locks. It hadn't been done with much care, so it almost appeared to be accidental. She looked like a cat that had plundered the nest of a bird and got feathers into its fur in the process. The witch removed her hands from her face and now a pair of feral eyes were sparkling at him curiously. They were chocolate brown and rimmed with black paint, which added to their wild fire.
He stared at her in fascination and both stood there motionlessly for a few moments. She cocked her head a bit, her eyes squinted together in concentration. Then, without any warning she shot forward, startling Legolas who took a step back with surprised expression on his face.
She pressed her body against the iron bars seductively and looked at him with a voluptuous fire in her eyes. "Oh, the pretty elvish boy is scared. What a pity!" she said mockingly, while a humourless smile tugged at her full crimson lips. Anger sparkled brightly in Legolas's eyes and he barely could contain himself.
"Silence, witch!" Gandalf's voice boomed through small cell.
Her eyes gleamed dangerously and her voice sounded like a hiss when she answered, "What I do is of no concern to you, Saruman. You are not my master and never will be."
"I'm not Saruman. My name is Gandalf, the White," the wizard informed her matter-of-factly and surprise flitted over his face for a second.
"Names don't matter to me, old man," she said, shrugging her shoulders and returned to her sitting position on the floor.
"What brings you to my humble abode? You know after all I'm still very.. yes, even extremely cross with you for spoiling my plans," she non- challently played with one tress of her tangled black hair. She dropped the strand and looked at Gandalf with narrowed eyes. "And don't even get me started on how I feel about you taking my powers," she said with a dangerous tone ringing in her voice.
"How dare you speak to him like that, murderess! Show some respect, " Legolas demanded with a cold voice.
Gandalf lay a soothing hand on the elf's shoulder. "You should be grateful that I only took your powers and let you survive after you tried to kill the king, witch," he told her calmly.
"Yes, the 'oh so glorious' heir of Isildur.," she answered sarcastically. "I hope you can still think with your own heads while you are dazzled by his heroic deeds and his hypocrisy."
"I warn you. Don't test my patience," Gandalf announced and his deep voice had commanding tone to it, that would forgive no further insolence.
"Or what? You'll kill me?"
"No, grandpa, you wouldn't. If you had wanted to you would have done so before. It would have been cold blooded and without even flinching, isn't that so? The way I see it.. You still have plans for me."
"And I wonder how our little blond-haired puppy dog feels about murder. Pray tell, old man, do you think elves like it when small, defenceless woman are killed right under their noses?" she looked at them with big eyes, her expression totally innocent. "After all I'm just a little misguided soul in search for help. I've been a very, very bad girl, I know. But I can change. I'll be good," the witch said mockingly and with a vicious smile on her lips. "Isn't that what you wanted to hear?"
Gandalf raised an eyebrow. The wizard appeared to be totally unimpressed by her words, while Legolas had to muster all his effort just to keep from screaming at her.
"All I wanted to hear was some useful information. But obviously you aren't ready for giving it yet, so we leave you to the darkness of this cell and return when you are more cooperative. It is your decision whether you talk out of your own free will, or whether you want to be forced by magic," the wizards announced and they turned to leave.
"Bye then, grandpa!" the witch exclaimed cheerful. "Next time bring somebody a bit more entertaining with you. Puppy dog was all pretty to look at, but not very talkative."
The door closed with a final bang behind the two men, leaving the rebellious prisoner in the bleak darkness of her windowless cell.
Legolas was still fuming. He had never met a person more despicable and insolent in all his life. Gandalf on the other hand was utterly calm. The witch had behaved just as he suspected. The only thing unusual about her had been that she had addressed him with the name Saruman. He frowned his wrinkly forehead.
"Did you find answers to your questions?" the old Istari asked curiously, while they were making their way back to upper levels of the palace.
"No, I did not find what I was looking for. Instead of answers I only found new questions," the elf answered cryptically.
"So did I, my friend. So did I," the wizard mumbled in his beard.
It was late in the evening and the people of Minas-Tirith were still celebrating the crowning of King Elessar, that was the name by which Aragorn was to be addressed in public from the moment the crown had been set on his royal head.
Gandalf had excused himself from the banquet that was held in honour of Aragorn, because he wanted to check on their new prisoner. He made his way through the huge hall, that was bathed in warm light and filled with the laughter of the feasting guests. Then and again he spotted a familiar face in the crowd.
The hobbits were enjoying themselves very much, because everything was to their heart's content. There were tons of exquisite food and dozens of gallons of delicious red wine. Merry, Pippin and Sam had been almost constantly eating all night long. For the first minutes, when the steaming plates had been just placed in front of them, they had greedily stuffed their faces with food, because they had not had such a good meal in weeks. After receiving some incredulous stares from the humans that were sitting at the hobbits' table, Sam announced, in order to justify his excessive eating habits, in between a mouthful of roasted pork and a huge draught of red wine, that he was particularly skinny for a hobbit and that he had to gain a few pounds before he could return to the Shire in his old glory. Merry and Pippin nodded silently with their mouths full, munching on happily, while the eyes of their hosts grew to the size of saucers in astonishment.
Frodo on the other hand had behaved highly unusual, at least for a hobbit. In comparison with the other three he had eaten very little. The young hobbit preferred spending the evening with long conversations with Aragorn or Faramir rather than with eating and drinking all night long. It seemed that he had become more mature after having gone through all those dangerous adventures and a contemplative frown could often be seen on his face, that had lost its youthful innocence.
Gandalf passed Gimli on his way down to the dungeons. The dwarf was engaged in a vivid conversation with Eowyn who from time to time cast affectionate gazes at Faramir, who returned them with a smile on his lips.
"Lady Eowyn, you are getting me jealous!", Gimli said jokingly, noticing the silent exchange between those two. "Has your heart already been won by someone else?"
She blushed fervently, smiling at him good-naturedly. "No, Master Gimli, you have to know that you are still the only dwarf in my heart," she responded in a joking tone.
Both friends laughed and Gandalf himself couldn't help but smile at the shreds of conversation he overheard, when he passed them by.
Legolas was sitting next to the Gimli and Eowyn, but something seemed to preoccupy him. He was smiling at a joke Gimli had just made, but the smile didn't reach his eyes which had a rather contemplative expression to them. The happenings of this evening were still fresh on his mind and wouldn't let him enjoy the banquet. Conversation seemed to pass him by, though he was interested in it. When he saw Gandalf headed for the dungeons with huge energetic strides, he quickly got to his feet and jogged after him. Then his way was suddenly blocked by a group of happily conversing guests.
"Mithrandir!" he exclaimed, using Gandalf's elven name. The old man stopped and waited for the elf who slowly, but determinedly, made his way through the crowded hall towards him. He reached him and lowered his voice when he continued, "Are you going to see the witch?" The wizard nodded silently and looked at the elf questioningly.
"I have been thinking about the incident all evening long. I was asking myself why anybody would desire to kill Aragorn. He is my friend and I know him very well. I could not think of any reason that would make his person so disagreeable to others that they would want to kill him. He has only done good and risked his a at least dozen times life trying to save Middle- Earth."
"Please, let me go down there and find some answers to all those questions that are running through my head!" Legolas asked the wizard who looked at him with furrowed brows.
"Alright, but keep a close eye on her she might still be dangerous. I have the feeling that we will be dealing with somebody who will mercilessly make use of even the slightest hint of weakness we show," Gandalf informed him and they continued their way down to the palace prison.
A constant frown could be found on Legolas's face while they walked through the dungeons. The elf had a strong dislike for places that were under ground. The prison reminded him all too much of a cave and what made matters worse even a bit of the mines of Moria, which he had hated with all his heart. Elves would never keep their prisoners under such conditions and he remembered the brief time during which Gollum had been under his supervision. Even though the creature had been full of malice and could not been trusted, the elves decided that he should be able to enjoy a breath of fresh air and beautiful sight of nature from time to time. Of course they had kept a close eye on him in the process. The only thing they had themselves to blame for concerning his escape, was that they showed perhaps a bit too much good will and had been slightly naive for believing his seemingly sincere promises that he would not try any tricks on them.
He shook his head and returned to the present, for they had arrived at their destination. "Master Gandalf, Prince Legolas," the guard that stood watch in front of the prison cell, greeted them with a respectful nod, "I assume you came to visit our new arrival?"
"Indeed. Has she already talked to anybody?", the wizard asked curiously.
"No, but she was acting like a mad woman. We went through a lot of trouble getting her into the cell in the first place. A few of my men now have scratched faces thanks to her. She has been screaming insults for the first couple of hours, but after that - nothing. We almost thought that she was gone. But that would be absolutely impossible now, wouldn't it? She would have to be a ghost to be able to slip through the iron bars and this heavy wooden door that I have been guarding like a blood hound all night long," the man answered rather lengthily, beating with his hand against the stable and thick door, in order to emphasis his point.
The two visitors looked at him expectantly and the guard remembered what they came for. It didn't happen often that anybody came down here , so he was thankful for every opportunity he got to talk to anybody. "Of course! You want to enter, don't you?", he said sheepishly, scratching his head. He opened the door and the two men stepped inside the greyish twilight of the prison cell. The guard mumbled something about fetching a torch, but Gandalf held him back.
"Allow me," the wizard said and the crystal on top of his long staff emitted a bright glow, lighting up the entire room. A sharp hiss could be heard from the other side of the bars. The young woman, sitting in a crouched position on the stone floor, shielded her eyes, that were by now used to the darkness in which she had been spending the last hours, from the light with her slender hands.
This was the first time Legolas had the opportunity to take a closer look at her. Her clothes were worn out and their colours were earthy and faded. She seemed to be somebody who was outside very often, because her skin was bronzed and the dirt of many travels was sticking to her shoes and the hem of her simple dress. Her black hair was falling down her shoulders in a wild, tangled mass. Small brown and white feathers were braided into her untamed locks. It hadn't been done with much care, so it almost appeared to be accidental. She looked like a cat that had plundered the nest of a bird and got feathers into its fur in the process. The witch removed her hands from her face and now a pair of feral eyes were sparkling at him curiously. They were chocolate brown and rimmed with black paint, which added to their wild fire.
He stared at her in fascination and both stood there motionlessly for a few moments. She cocked her head a bit, her eyes squinted together in concentration. Then, without any warning she shot forward, startling Legolas who took a step back with surprised expression on his face.
She pressed her body against the iron bars seductively and looked at him with a voluptuous fire in her eyes. "Oh, the pretty elvish boy is scared. What a pity!" she said mockingly, while a humourless smile tugged at her full crimson lips. Anger sparkled brightly in Legolas's eyes and he barely could contain himself.
"Silence, witch!" Gandalf's voice boomed through small cell.
Her eyes gleamed dangerously and her voice sounded like a hiss when she answered, "What I do is of no concern to you, Saruman. You are not my master and never will be."
"I'm not Saruman. My name is Gandalf, the White," the wizard informed her matter-of-factly and surprise flitted over his face for a second.
"Names don't matter to me, old man," she said, shrugging her shoulders and returned to her sitting position on the floor.
"What brings you to my humble abode? You know after all I'm still very.. yes, even extremely cross with you for spoiling my plans," she non- challently played with one tress of her tangled black hair. She dropped the strand and looked at Gandalf with narrowed eyes. "And don't even get me started on how I feel about you taking my powers," she said with a dangerous tone ringing in her voice.
"How dare you speak to him like that, murderess! Show some respect, " Legolas demanded with a cold voice.
Gandalf lay a soothing hand on the elf's shoulder. "You should be grateful that I only took your powers and let you survive after you tried to kill the king, witch," he told her calmly.
"Yes, the 'oh so glorious' heir of Isildur.," she answered sarcastically. "I hope you can still think with your own heads while you are dazzled by his heroic deeds and his hypocrisy."
"I warn you. Don't test my patience," Gandalf announced and his deep voice had commanding tone to it, that would forgive no further insolence.
"Or what? You'll kill me?"
"No, grandpa, you wouldn't. If you had wanted to you would have done so before. It would have been cold blooded and without even flinching, isn't that so? The way I see it.. You still have plans for me."
"And I wonder how our little blond-haired puppy dog feels about murder. Pray tell, old man, do you think elves like it when small, defenceless woman are killed right under their noses?" she looked at them with big eyes, her expression totally innocent. "After all I'm just a little misguided soul in search for help. I've been a very, very bad girl, I know. But I can change. I'll be good," the witch said mockingly and with a vicious smile on her lips. "Isn't that what you wanted to hear?"
Gandalf raised an eyebrow. The wizard appeared to be totally unimpressed by her words, while Legolas had to muster all his effort just to keep from screaming at her.
"All I wanted to hear was some useful information. But obviously you aren't ready for giving it yet, so we leave you to the darkness of this cell and return when you are more cooperative. It is your decision whether you talk out of your own free will, or whether you want to be forced by magic," the wizards announced and they turned to leave.
"Bye then, grandpa!" the witch exclaimed cheerful. "Next time bring somebody a bit more entertaining with you. Puppy dog was all pretty to look at, but not very talkative."
The door closed with a final bang behind the two men, leaving the rebellious prisoner in the bleak darkness of her windowless cell.
Legolas was still fuming. He had never met a person more despicable and insolent in all his life. Gandalf on the other hand was utterly calm. The witch had behaved just as he suspected. The only thing unusual about her had been that she had addressed him with the name Saruman. He frowned his wrinkly forehead.
"Did you find answers to your questions?" the old Istari asked curiously, while they were making their way back to upper levels of the palace.
"No, I did not find what I was looking for. Instead of answers I only found new questions," the elf answered cryptically.
"So did I, my friend. So did I," the wizard mumbled in his beard.