Random Orcs, or We Fell to Middle Earth
Chapter Twelve: Which Indicates a Necessity For Flight
by Galadriel Tolkien
I awoke in a small room in the Rock, the small fortress inside the Gate of Helm's Deep. Someone had thoughtfully covered me in a blanket, and I moved it, wincing at the shaking in my hands. I was glad I couldn't remember my dreams. From the way I was covered in sweat and my hands were shaking, it was a fair bet they hadn't been pretty.
Visions of wet intestine sliding through my fingers, maggots in eye sockets and roaches spilling from the mouth of dead men skittered away as I sat up. No, they hadn't been pretty. But they hadn't been as bad as they could have been.
With a yawn I stood, startled to find Gandalf had stripped me down to dragon mail before dropping me into bed. I had to be inside the keep, probably in the king's featherbed I decided in amusement. I was also barefoot, and someone had run off with my boots. Probably the aforementioned (irritating) wizard.
There was a cloak at the end of the bed, and I picked it up, swirling it around myself for modesty's sake. I could have walked out stark naked and not cared. But the dragon mail *was* form-fitting, so... Best to be kind.
If my bones were telling me anything right, it was nearly noon. I'd gotten about four hours of sleep. Quite enough to keep me on my feet for a good long while. At some point, I would crash, though. Crash for 16 hours or more.
There was no one out in the halls, so I made my way to the stairs and from there out into the courtyard. From there I could hear and see activity all around me. Mounds of orcs were being hauled out into the area between the Dike and the forest, while patches were made in the sections that had been destroyed, and a burial detail worked at mass graves for the dead of Rohan. I spotted Gandalf and Aragorn standing with Theoden, Erkenbrand and Eomer, and went towards them, dodging the occasional cracked bit of stone.
As I approached, I realised that they were burying someone. It was Hama, the guard of the King's House who had so long ago requested us to remove our weapons. I felt tears prickling my throat, and silently stood next to Gandalf as he was lowered to his final resting place.
The silent ceremony ended, and Gandalf turned to me, eyes sad. "You look better."
I shrugged, "So, what's the plan for the rest of today?"
"I must speak with Saruman at the earliest opportunity. And then my way lies south, to Gondor."
"Going to try and leave me behind this time?"
He looked at me, face unreadable. "You have proved an asset to the war."
"Always good to know." I plucked at the cloak I was wrapped in, "Don't suppose you know if anyone has spare clothing... Oh, and finding my sword would be nice."
"I'm sure they can outfit you properly." He nodded to the Rock. "Check inside."
"Right." I left them there, heading back inside in search of clothing. My search found a pair of pants slightly too large, and a vest of green. With a sigh, I pulled them on, using my rediscovered sword belt for a good purpose. My boots were actually under the bed, and I pulled them on, happy to find them wiped off if not completely clean. I could deal with a little bit of blood.
A page found me adding my knives and empty sheathes. I was called for, but I stayed us a moment to ask what he knew of everything that had passed while I was asleep.
It seemed that Gandalf wished to go to Isengard and have speech with Saruman--that which I knew--while the Lord of the Mark went with him to overthrow the dark wizard. It was finally decided to leave Erkenbrand and most of his troop at Helm's Deep, where they would undertake the task of cleaning up and burying the dead.
There was also discussion of the trees which had appeared overnight, and into which many of the orcs had fled never to return. Plus, and here the page was definitely smug about his king, the Hillmen had all surrendered and been pardoned. I understood Theoden's reason for that--after all, better to have them think him senile and a pushover than execute them all. Tyrants aren't just feared, they're hated.
The lad finally convinced me to go, and I arrived in the courtyard to find our party nearly ready to go. Gandalf shot me an irritated glance, but I merely smiled serenely and mounted Alayna. SHE was in a good mood, curveting around, flashing Shadowfax little Looks. ::Stop that.::
::No.:: She swished her tail and looked up at me, ::You got to flirt.::
::When?:: It must have been in my sleep.
::Earlier.::
::That was not flirting.::
::You'd like to think so.::
We set off, heading out of the Dike and into the valley. Looking at the mounds of orc bodies, I didn't envy the men left. The burying of so much flesh would take all day and most of the night.
At the top of the valley, the forest started. Great, dark trees that rustled silently and watched us as we passed into the small gap between them. I found myself drifting back to the tail end of the column, and realised why as I found the man there sweating copiously.
"Nice day." I didn't recognise him, and guessed him to be one of Erkenbrand's, loaned for this trip.
"Sunny." He seemed to relax in my company, maybe because I was a woman, or maybe because I was a survivor of the battle of the night.
I asked him where he was from, and the next thirty minutes were filled with light chitchat about Westfold and other things. By the time we were done, we had exited the unnatural forest and turned up the road east and north, heading for the Isen ford.
Eventually, I left him and traveled up and down the column, speaking softly to the others. Alayna objected to the constant away from Shadowfaxness. I ignored her.
Night fell as we rode, and I pondered the stars high above us, naming them all the same in a fit of humour.
Several hours later, we came to the ford and discovered that the river was much depleted. I wondered at that, but didn't really care. Hunger was gnawing at me, and I was thinking wistfully of my breakfast long hours before. Coffee would have been nice, too.
Someone must have heard my mutters about dying of hunger, for I found a young foot soldier soon at my stirrup, a large portion of waybread in his hand and some strips of dried meat. I wolfed them down, happy to not care what type of meat it was, and felt almost refreshed. "My thanks, lad."
He was staring at my hair in wonder, "You really are a rainbow." Then he blushed, and stammered an apology.
"No worries, lad." I smiled, "You're one of Erkenbrand's, yes?"
"Yes." He ducked, "They sent me here to give me something to do, I expect. I turned green at the bodies."
"No sin in finding death unattractive. I have a tendency to get sick myself."
"But you're a great warrior."
I was amused, "That's what they tell me."
"The Lady Rainbow, Green Rider of the Rohirrim." He said, eyes shining.
Great. Hero worship. "Er, not of the Rohirrim. But a friend, yes."
Ahead of us, there was a cry, and I left my new friend to ride to the forefront. There I found my friends and Theoden gathered around a large mound. Gandalf announced that it was the final resting place of those who had fallen in defense of the ford, and I found out that part of his day had been spent finding men to build this, and to send them on to Edoras to guard the King's house.
I felt as if I had been hit, in a way. I had spent the day before in desperate battle and skirmish, hoping to keep the enemy from striking those who had no place for defense, and he had spent it in peace.
::I knew I liked that wizard.:: Alayna said softly as we continued on, in search of a place to camp for the night, since it had been long since many had slept.
--
Once settled down for the night, I looked at the stars high overhead and pondered the twists of Fate. If I did one thing, people died. If I did another, people still died. I couldn't win. For a moment, I let down mental barriers, and looked at the time stream that wrapped around this small world.
It was silver and gold, with hints of black leaking in here and there. In the past, I found the knot that was the Balrog, and studied it for a time. I'd been right. If I'd interfered in any way... but I had. And Gandalf died. Sure, I brought him back, but at what cost?
Towards the future were more knots of darkness. Places where interference would lead to worse than death. Soulless beings crept through the timelines there, manifesting as small mice that scurried into my head and rooted around in search of something to sup on. They were out of luck, really.
I don't think I have a soul.
After the thousandth time you've killed someone in cold blood, you stop even considering that you might have one. Not that it bothers me. Much. Besides, I knew the night I killed three innocent children that my life was forever sealed.
I wasn't allowed to die because no one would have me in their afterlife.
Therefore, I have no soul.
Everything I do is for nothing, over a long extended period of pain and heartache. Nothing wins in the end, because apathy triumphs.
Into these suddenly dark thoughts impinged Gandalf, his robes softly moving across the grass.
We had avoided each other for the most part. I was bittersweet about that, but understanding. It sort of looks bad if the wizard is hanging all over a woman. Except I hated giving up what small comfort there was in us.
"Dark thoughts."
I shrugged, not bothering to sit up as he knelt next to me. "They always are."
He stroked my cheek with his hand and sighed, "I wish I had hope."
The imp of the perverse caught me, and I wriggled my eyebrows at him, "There's one way to give me hope..."
For a moment he seemed to seriously consider the idea, then he sighed, "There is sadly not enough time for what I would do to you."
"Ah, damn." I sat up, and hugged him. "Well, at least we can watch the stars together."
"Not even that," he replied softly as sound echoed to us from far away to the north. Isengard was falling.
"Gandalf!" Someone cried, "Save us!"
"A wizard's work is never done." He muttered.
I caught his chin and kissed him, hard. He tasted of ale and cheese, and I sighed, almost hungry again for food. "No, it isn't."
He stood, then, and left to find the others leading our party. From the direction of Isengard came more sounds. Crashes and bangs, and a deep whooshing as of a burst dam, the river running wild over rocks and bank alike.
One of the foot soldiers came to me as I knelt there. "Lady Rainbow?"
"Yes?"
"What does it mean?" He was scared, and I recognised the young lad from earlier.
I stood, sighing at the prospect of a night of no sleep. "I'm not sure. But it isn't something that's bad." I squinted towards the sounds, "In fact, I think it's very good for us."
He gulped, then straightened, "My captain said I was to stay with you, if that was all right."
"It's fine." I smiled, my teeth flashing in the darkness, "Just don't be offended if I leave you with this troop to scout."
"Isengard is burning."
"Yes." I stared at the fires which showed above the tree line now. "I wonder...."
High in the sky, something chittered. The sound went through me, and I grabbed the kid's arm and knelt, dragging him down with me.
"Wh--"
"Sshh."
Whatever was up there sent a dark dread through the air as it flew, and I recognised the signature of the black riders that had so long ago been tumbled into water at the gates of Rivendell. The Nazgul, Elrond had called them. Leftover wraiths bound to their Dark Lord by the rings he forged them.
The thing passed over completely, finally, and I suspected it might have 'seen' us, in its own way. But it flew on to Isengard without stooping towards us, and left in its wake a rising mist.
What it would tell its master, I didn't know. I didn't care at the moment, though, since I had my hands full suddenly with almost hysterical troops.
It might seem odd, but even battle-hardened men get a bit iffy when something like a Nazgul flies over them. My words of comfort brought them back from that terror, though. And shame took its place. Shame I quickly attempted to dissipate with encouraging words about battle.
Once that tide was stemmed, I found the young soldier still in my company, and asked his name.
"Vin, ma'am."
"Well, Vin, since we're going to be companions for the moment, you can just call me Marya."
He blinked, then straightened even more (if that were possible), "Oh, no, ma'am. I could never."
"All right. Um." I looked about me at the still-restless camp. "Why don't we try to sleep then?"
I needed sleep, or something approaching it. Even nightmare-ridden naps would be better than a night spent awake. Probably.
--
In the early morning light, we mounted up and continued towards Isengard. I sensed that a disquiet had spread among the army, and worried that we might have trouble if there was anything left to fight once we got there.
About midday, we could see the circle of stone, with the tower of Orthanc rising above them like some ornately carved finger. We slowed as we approached, more and more reluctant to face whatever peril that stone fortress held.
It wasn't long before we reached the gates and found them closed. There were two small men guarding the entry-way, both seeming completely relaxed; one blew smoke rings from his pipe while the other dozed in the sun. I recognised Merry and Pippin a moment before Merry spoke up welcoming Theoden in the name of the Ents.
Part of me was glad to see them, not knowing what peril they had fallen into had worried me, but I knew they had stayed alive. Oddly, another part was resentful, and I couldn't pinpoint why at first.
The group parted, Gimli, Legolas, Aragorn and I staying to feast upon what food the hobbits could find us. The rest made their way around Isengard to discuss matters with Treebeard. Except for two guards left at the gate.
It was as we munched on our food that I finally figured out my feeling of resentment. These were all people who would have an effect on the outcome of this world. And I was merely supposed to remain in the background and basically do nothing. It went against the grain of my nature, that. I needed to do things or I was useless, unneeded.
Which was ridiculous, really. After all, hadn't I thought before about the uselessness of existence?
But maybe there was nothing useful in life. Weighty matters, which had no impact on anything.
Pippin and Merry explained how they had escaped from the orcs just before Eomer and the Riders of Rohan had destroyed the band. I listened in approval as they met up with Treebeard, helping him to rouse the Ents to fight against Saruman.
The Ents were a tree-people, and they tended herds of trees. It sounded very lovely and peaceful, really. Saruman had been burning their trees and other trees and so the Ents were angered. It took a while for them to become angry enough to decide that he needed to be taken down a peg or two. But they did, and that's what the sounds in the night had been.
Crafty people, I'll give them that. They dammed up the river to the north of Isengard, then flooded the place. The flood put out his hellfires and flooded the lower chambers of horror that he had constructed. Basically, we didn't have to do anything but come in and tell him he was defeated.
I was down with that.
The conversation flowed around me, with bits and pieces of my journey with Gandalf tossed out from time to time. It was a very congenial moment, and I was hoping it would last forever. No more battles to attend, no more people to save. Just a few friends eating good food--or, sort of good food--and chatting companionably.
I was interested to hear that Gandalf had requested the forest that had appeared around Helm's Deep. It made an odd sort of sense, of course, and I was glad I hadn't needed to do any major spellcasting to rid us of the damned orcs.
Might've attracted Sauron's attention, and that would be bad, this early in the game.
Time in the sun came to an end, as the others became restless to see what went on in Isengard. And so we went into that place, a large valley surrounded by a circle of stone, with the tooth of Orthanc in the center. I pondered it for a moment, then walked after them.
As we approached the tower, I noted that most of the column were there along with a creature I assumed had to be Treebeard. He was a very tall tree, really, rather majestic as he surveyed our approach.
"Ho, Gandalf." Pippin called, "You were not thinking of speaking to Saruman without us?"
"Hrrm. Hroom. Master Pippin, you are so hasty." The tree said.
I chuckled, "You find most hobbits thus, I should think."
He blinked at me, then seemed to nod, "You are Luthien. Hruum. Glad I am to make your acquaintance."
I blinked back, surprised he knew of me. "Yes. Thank you."
We stopped talking then, as Gandalf seemed to decide it was time to confront Saruman. After a soft warning to beware of the power of the old wizard's voice, he dismounted and started up the stairs. Theoden, Aragorn, Gimli and Legolas followed him. I glanced at Pippin and grinned, "Race you."
Merry followed our swift feet, and we all stood upon the landing in front of massive doors in moments.
It wasn't Saruman who eventually answered Gandalf's call. With a start, I recognised Grima Wormtongue, and cursed that I hadn't killed him when I had the chance. He was sent for his master, who arrived in due course.
"Well?" Said a voice that should have been evil and horrid, but was rather beautiful. I understood, then, Gandalf's warning about the voice. "Why must you disturb my rest? Will you give me no peace at all by night or day?"
As if his alliance with Mordor, and planned destruction of Rohan were nothing. Right. I sensed the soldiers behind me restlessly fidget, and realised they were answering the power of that voice.
Irritating, really.
Above us, Saruman poked his head out the window, and I smirked. He still seemed to have grass in his hair from my dumping in the forest. Of course, it might have been an illusion. There was a resemblance to Gandalf, but not one I would have believed. I knew Gandalf's body too well.
For a time, I let the spell of the voice weave its subtle magic. Then I reached out and touched it, turning it as if turning the knob on a stereo, and sending it up several octaves. For a moment the wizard continued talking, his voice a high screech which hurt the ears. Then he silenced, looking startled.
"Much better." I announced. "That was beginning to grate, y'know. I mean, really, Saruman, babe. Voice tricks? How passe. Personally, I would have gone with the 'escaping through a tunnel' option, but then, you might still've been caught." I studied his rapidly purpling countenance, "And, dude. That is SO not your colour."
The others were staring at me as if I'd grown another head. I shrugged and smiled, "Sorry. Grandstanding was never my forte. Are we done here?"
I sensed that I had ruined any plans for people to consider me sane, and sighed. "Look. This isn't going to get us anywhere. Saruman isn't on our side, he's not going to regret what he's done, he won't tell us anything--" I paused, considering, "Well... Unless I used some of my vast knowledge of torture on him, he won't. But that's beside the point. He will try to sow discord and dissent among each and every one of us."
Having successfully ruined what would have been a long and boring conversation, I turned away, satisfied.
Above us, Saruman gave a snarl and stalked away from the window.
Moments later, something came flying out of the window. It was round, and I recognised it as a palantir from Gandalf's descriptions. It reminded me of something, but I couldn't think what.
As the palantir sailed down towards Gandalf, I suddenly realised that I wasn't allowed to touch it. I could move it, but actually picking it up would change the destinies of many things. With precision, I moved its aim so it bypassed my lover and bounced down the steps of the tower. Those around me started as if they hadn't seen it coming, Gandalf shot me an odd look, but I ignored it.
Pippin dashed after the ball of leaded glass, intent on capturing it, probably in some way hoping to be helpful. I felt sick as I watched him touch it, and flashes of a future I was striving against slithered through my mind.
Death and destruction echoed through the world as Sauron won, his ring wrapped around his finger where it belonged. We had lost.
I shook my head, and watched Gandalf take the palantir from Pippin--careful to not actually touch it with anything other than his cloak--and wondered at his reasons for keeping it. It occurred to me that I was probably not going to sleep tonight.
To my relief, I was wrong. We had camped away from Isengard, heading back towards Edoras and the muster of the troops of Rohan. And I was asleep within moments of lying down. I found myself dreaming of nothing in the starlit night, until a cry echoed across the camp. With haste I was on my feet and running towards the sound. I came upon Pippin and Gandalf, the palantir between them for a moment before Gandalf hid it from the view of our camp.
I pondered that as the others gathered. A moment later, Gandalf was calling for Shadowfax and telling Theoden to head for Dunharrow for the mustering.
Alayna appeared at my side as he mounted, and I pulled myself into the saddle, ignoring Gandalf's glare as he pulled Pippin up in front of him.
"We shall ride for Edoras and turn aside the muster, then head for Minas Tirith. Much evil may be averted." Gandalf told Aragorn. He handed him the recovered palantir, and I shivered, "Watch this, and do not look into it."
I found Vin at my side, and smiled, "Take care of yourself, kid. I'll see you at Minas Tirith."
"Yes, my lady." He tried to smile, and couldn't, and I saw the fear in his eyes as he looked around himself. "I would wish for you to stay, yet..."
"My usefulness is in the White City," I said softly. I could feel the pull of it now, the sense that a new pathway had opened into the future of this world. "We shall meet again during battle. Do not falter for an instant!"
Gandalf glanced at me, then signaled Shadowfax, and we were off. I shot a wave to Legolas, Gimli, Merry and Aragorn, then they were swallowed up into the night as we fled into the coming darkness.
-
Chapter Twelve: Which Indicates a Necessity For Flight
by Galadriel Tolkien
I awoke in a small room in the Rock, the small fortress inside the Gate of Helm's Deep. Someone had thoughtfully covered me in a blanket, and I moved it, wincing at the shaking in my hands. I was glad I couldn't remember my dreams. From the way I was covered in sweat and my hands were shaking, it was a fair bet they hadn't been pretty.
Visions of wet intestine sliding through my fingers, maggots in eye sockets and roaches spilling from the mouth of dead men skittered away as I sat up. No, they hadn't been pretty. But they hadn't been as bad as they could have been.
With a yawn I stood, startled to find Gandalf had stripped me down to dragon mail before dropping me into bed. I had to be inside the keep, probably in the king's featherbed I decided in amusement. I was also barefoot, and someone had run off with my boots. Probably the aforementioned (irritating) wizard.
There was a cloak at the end of the bed, and I picked it up, swirling it around myself for modesty's sake. I could have walked out stark naked and not cared. But the dragon mail *was* form-fitting, so... Best to be kind.
If my bones were telling me anything right, it was nearly noon. I'd gotten about four hours of sleep. Quite enough to keep me on my feet for a good long while. At some point, I would crash, though. Crash for 16 hours or more.
There was no one out in the halls, so I made my way to the stairs and from there out into the courtyard. From there I could hear and see activity all around me. Mounds of orcs were being hauled out into the area between the Dike and the forest, while patches were made in the sections that had been destroyed, and a burial detail worked at mass graves for the dead of Rohan. I spotted Gandalf and Aragorn standing with Theoden, Erkenbrand and Eomer, and went towards them, dodging the occasional cracked bit of stone.
As I approached, I realised that they were burying someone. It was Hama, the guard of the King's House who had so long ago requested us to remove our weapons. I felt tears prickling my throat, and silently stood next to Gandalf as he was lowered to his final resting place.
The silent ceremony ended, and Gandalf turned to me, eyes sad. "You look better."
I shrugged, "So, what's the plan for the rest of today?"
"I must speak with Saruman at the earliest opportunity. And then my way lies south, to Gondor."
"Going to try and leave me behind this time?"
He looked at me, face unreadable. "You have proved an asset to the war."
"Always good to know." I plucked at the cloak I was wrapped in, "Don't suppose you know if anyone has spare clothing... Oh, and finding my sword would be nice."
"I'm sure they can outfit you properly." He nodded to the Rock. "Check inside."
"Right." I left them there, heading back inside in search of clothing. My search found a pair of pants slightly too large, and a vest of green. With a sigh, I pulled them on, using my rediscovered sword belt for a good purpose. My boots were actually under the bed, and I pulled them on, happy to find them wiped off if not completely clean. I could deal with a little bit of blood.
A page found me adding my knives and empty sheathes. I was called for, but I stayed us a moment to ask what he knew of everything that had passed while I was asleep.
It seemed that Gandalf wished to go to Isengard and have speech with Saruman--that which I knew--while the Lord of the Mark went with him to overthrow the dark wizard. It was finally decided to leave Erkenbrand and most of his troop at Helm's Deep, where they would undertake the task of cleaning up and burying the dead.
There was also discussion of the trees which had appeared overnight, and into which many of the orcs had fled never to return. Plus, and here the page was definitely smug about his king, the Hillmen had all surrendered and been pardoned. I understood Theoden's reason for that--after all, better to have them think him senile and a pushover than execute them all. Tyrants aren't just feared, they're hated.
The lad finally convinced me to go, and I arrived in the courtyard to find our party nearly ready to go. Gandalf shot me an irritated glance, but I merely smiled serenely and mounted Alayna. SHE was in a good mood, curveting around, flashing Shadowfax little Looks. ::Stop that.::
::No.:: She swished her tail and looked up at me, ::You got to flirt.::
::When?:: It must have been in my sleep.
::Earlier.::
::That was not flirting.::
::You'd like to think so.::
We set off, heading out of the Dike and into the valley. Looking at the mounds of orc bodies, I didn't envy the men left. The burying of so much flesh would take all day and most of the night.
At the top of the valley, the forest started. Great, dark trees that rustled silently and watched us as we passed into the small gap between them. I found myself drifting back to the tail end of the column, and realised why as I found the man there sweating copiously.
"Nice day." I didn't recognise him, and guessed him to be one of Erkenbrand's, loaned for this trip.
"Sunny." He seemed to relax in my company, maybe because I was a woman, or maybe because I was a survivor of the battle of the night.
I asked him where he was from, and the next thirty minutes were filled with light chitchat about Westfold and other things. By the time we were done, we had exited the unnatural forest and turned up the road east and north, heading for the Isen ford.
Eventually, I left him and traveled up and down the column, speaking softly to the others. Alayna objected to the constant away from Shadowfaxness. I ignored her.
Night fell as we rode, and I pondered the stars high above us, naming them all the same in a fit of humour.
Several hours later, we came to the ford and discovered that the river was much depleted. I wondered at that, but didn't really care. Hunger was gnawing at me, and I was thinking wistfully of my breakfast long hours before. Coffee would have been nice, too.
Someone must have heard my mutters about dying of hunger, for I found a young foot soldier soon at my stirrup, a large portion of waybread in his hand and some strips of dried meat. I wolfed them down, happy to not care what type of meat it was, and felt almost refreshed. "My thanks, lad."
He was staring at my hair in wonder, "You really are a rainbow." Then he blushed, and stammered an apology.
"No worries, lad." I smiled, "You're one of Erkenbrand's, yes?"
"Yes." He ducked, "They sent me here to give me something to do, I expect. I turned green at the bodies."
"No sin in finding death unattractive. I have a tendency to get sick myself."
"But you're a great warrior."
I was amused, "That's what they tell me."
"The Lady Rainbow, Green Rider of the Rohirrim." He said, eyes shining.
Great. Hero worship. "Er, not of the Rohirrim. But a friend, yes."
Ahead of us, there was a cry, and I left my new friend to ride to the forefront. There I found my friends and Theoden gathered around a large mound. Gandalf announced that it was the final resting place of those who had fallen in defense of the ford, and I found out that part of his day had been spent finding men to build this, and to send them on to Edoras to guard the King's house.
I felt as if I had been hit, in a way. I had spent the day before in desperate battle and skirmish, hoping to keep the enemy from striking those who had no place for defense, and he had spent it in peace.
::I knew I liked that wizard.:: Alayna said softly as we continued on, in search of a place to camp for the night, since it had been long since many had slept.
--
Once settled down for the night, I looked at the stars high overhead and pondered the twists of Fate. If I did one thing, people died. If I did another, people still died. I couldn't win. For a moment, I let down mental barriers, and looked at the time stream that wrapped around this small world.
It was silver and gold, with hints of black leaking in here and there. In the past, I found the knot that was the Balrog, and studied it for a time. I'd been right. If I'd interfered in any way... but I had. And Gandalf died. Sure, I brought him back, but at what cost?
Towards the future were more knots of darkness. Places where interference would lead to worse than death. Soulless beings crept through the timelines there, manifesting as small mice that scurried into my head and rooted around in search of something to sup on. They were out of luck, really.
I don't think I have a soul.
After the thousandth time you've killed someone in cold blood, you stop even considering that you might have one. Not that it bothers me. Much. Besides, I knew the night I killed three innocent children that my life was forever sealed.
I wasn't allowed to die because no one would have me in their afterlife.
Therefore, I have no soul.
Everything I do is for nothing, over a long extended period of pain and heartache. Nothing wins in the end, because apathy triumphs.
Into these suddenly dark thoughts impinged Gandalf, his robes softly moving across the grass.
We had avoided each other for the most part. I was bittersweet about that, but understanding. It sort of looks bad if the wizard is hanging all over a woman. Except I hated giving up what small comfort there was in us.
"Dark thoughts."
I shrugged, not bothering to sit up as he knelt next to me. "They always are."
He stroked my cheek with his hand and sighed, "I wish I had hope."
The imp of the perverse caught me, and I wriggled my eyebrows at him, "There's one way to give me hope..."
For a moment he seemed to seriously consider the idea, then he sighed, "There is sadly not enough time for what I would do to you."
"Ah, damn." I sat up, and hugged him. "Well, at least we can watch the stars together."
"Not even that," he replied softly as sound echoed to us from far away to the north. Isengard was falling.
"Gandalf!" Someone cried, "Save us!"
"A wizard's work is never done." He muttered.
I caught his chin and kissed him, hard. He tasted of ale and cheese, and I sighed, almost hungry again for food. "No, it isn't."
He stood, then, and left to find the others leading our party. From the direction of Isengard came more sounds. Crashes and bangs, and a deep whooshing as of a burst dam, the river running wild over rocks and bank alike.
One of the foot soldiers came to me as I knelt there. "Lady Rainbow?"
"Yes?"
"What does it mean?" He was scared, and I recognised the young lad from earlier.
I stood, sighing at the prospect of a night of no sleep. "I'm not sure. But it isn't something that's bad." I squinted towards the sounds, "In fact, I think it's very good for us."
He gulped, then straightened, "My captain said I was to stay with you, if that was all right."
"It's fine." I smiled, my teeth flashing in the darkness, "Just don't be offended if I leave you with this troop to scout."
"Isengard is burning."
"Yes." I stared at the fires which showed above the tree line now. "I wonder...."
High in the sky, something chittered. The sound went through me, and I grabbed the kid's arm and knelt, dragging him down with me.
"Wh--"
"Sshh."
Whatever was up there sent a dark dread through the air as it flew, and I recognised the signature of the black riders that had so long ago been tumbled into water at the gates of Rivendell. The Nazgul, Elrond had called them. Leftover wraiths bound to their Dark Lord by the rings he forged them.
The thing passed over completely, finally, and I suspected it might have 'seen' us, in its own way. But it flew on to Isengard without stooping towards us, and left in its wake a rising mist.
What it would tell its master, I didn't know. I didn't care at the moment, though, since I had my hands full suddenly with almost hysterical troops.
It might seem odd, but even battle-hardened men get a bit iffy when something like a Nazgul flies over them. My words of comfort brought them back from that terror, though. And shame took its place. Shame I quickly attempted to dissipate with encouraging words about battle.
Once that tide was stemmed, I found the young soldier still in my company, and asked his name.
"Vin, ma'am."
"Well, Vin, since we're going to be companions for the moment, you can just call me Marya."
He blinked, then straightened even more (if that were possible), "Oh, no, ma'am. I could never."
"All right. Um." I looked about me at the still-restless camp. "Why don't we try to sleep then?"
I needed sleep, or something approaching it. Even nightmare-ridden naps would be better than a night spent awake. Probably.
--
In the early morning light, we mounted up and continued towards Isengard. I sensed that a disquiet had spread among the army, and worried that we might have trouble if there was anything left to fight once we got there.
About midday, we could see the circle of stone, with the tower of Orthanc rising above them like some ornately carved finger. We slowed as we approached, more and more reluctant to face whatever peril that stone fortress held.
It wasn't long before we reached the gates and found them closed. There were two small men guarding the entry-way, both seeming completely relaxed; one blew smoke rings from his pipe while the other dozed in the sun. I recognised Merry and Pippin a moment before Merry spoke up welcoming Theoden in the name of the Ents.
Part of me was glad to see them, not knowing what peril they had fallen into had worried me, but I knew they had stayed alive. Oddly, another part was resentful, and I couldn't pinpoint why at first.
The group parted, Gimli, Legolas, Aragorn and I staying to feast upon what food the hobbits could find us. The rest made their way around Isengard to discuss matters with Treebeard. Except for two guards left at the gate.
It was as we munched on our food that I finally figured out my feeling of resentment. These were all people who would have an effect on the outcome of this world. And I was merely supposed to remain in the background and basically do nothing. It went against the grain of my nature, that. I needed to do things or I was useless, unneeded.
Which was ridiculous, really. After all, hadn't I thought before about the uselessness of existence?
But maybe there was nothing useful in life. Weighty matters, which had no impact on anything.
Pippin and Merry explained how they had escaped from the orcs just before Eomer and the Riders of Rohan had destroyed the band. I listened in approval as they met up with Treebeard, helping him to rouse the Ents to fight against Saruman.
The Ents were a tree-people, and they tended herds of trees. It sounded very lovely and peaceful, really. Saruman had been burning their trees and other trees and so the Ents were angered. It took a while for them to become angry enough to decide that he needed to be taken down a peg or two. But they did, and that's what the sounds in the night had been.
Crafty people, I'll give them that. They dammed up the river to the north of Isengard, then flooded the place. The flood put out his hellfires and flooded the lower chambers of horror that he had constructed. Basically, we didn't have to do anything but come in and tell him he was defeated.
I was down with that.
The conversation flowed around me, with bits and pieces of my journey with Gandalf tossed out from time to time. It was a very congenial moment, and I was hoping it would last forever. No more battles to attend, no more people to save. Just a few friends eating good food--or, sort of good food--and chatting companionably.
I was interested to hear that Gandalf had requested the forest that had appeared around Helm's Deep. It made an odd sort of sense, of course, and I was glad I hadn't needed to do any major spellcasting to rid us of the damned orcs.
Might've attracted Sauron's attention, and that would be bad, this early in the game.
Time in the sun came to an end, as the others became restless to see what went on in Isengard. And so we went into that place, a large valley surrounded by a circle of stone, with the tooth of Orthanc in the center. I pondered it for a moment, then walked after them.
As we approached the tower, I noted that most of the column were there along with a creature I assumed had to be Treebeard. He was a very tall tree, really, rather majestic as he surveyed our approach.
"Ho, Gandalf." Pippin called, "You were not thinking of speaking to Saruman without us?"
"Hrrm. Hroom. Master Pippin, you are so hasty." The tree said.
I chuckled, "You find most hobbits thus, I should think."
He blinked at me, then seemed to nod, "You are Luthien. Hruum. Glad I am to make your acquaintance."
I blinked back, surprised he knew of me. "Yes. Thank you."
We stopped talking then, as Gandalf seemed to decide it was time to confront Saruman. After a soft warning to beware of the power of the old wizard's voice, he dismounted and started up the stairs. Theoden, Aragorn, Gimli and Legolas followed him. I glanced at Pippin and grinned, "Race you."
Merry followed our swift feet, and we all stood upon the landing in front of massive doors in moments.
It wasn't Saruman who eventually answered Gandalf's call. With a start, I recognised Grima Wormtongue, and cursed that I hadn't killed him when I had the chance. He was sent for his master, who arrived in due course.
"Well?" Said a voice that should have been evil and horrid, but was rather beautiful. I understood, then, Gandalf's warning about the voice. "Why must you disturb my rest? Will you give me no peace at all by night or day?"
As if his alliance with Mordor, and planned destruction of Rohan were nothing. Right. I sensed the soldiers behind me restlessly fidget, and realised they were answering the power of that voice.
Irritating, really.
Above us, Saruman poked his head out the window, and I smirked. He still seemed to have grass in his hair from my dumping in the forest. Of course, it might have been an illusion. There was a resemblance to Gandalf, but not one I would have believed. I knew Gandalf's body too well.
For a time, I let the spell of the voice weave its subtle magic. Then I reached out and touched it, turning it as if turning the knob on a stereo, and sending it up several octaves. For a moment the wizard continued talking, his voice a high screech which hurt the ears. Then he silenced, looking startled.
"Much better." I announced. "That was beginning to grate, y'know. I mean, really, Saruman, babe. Voice tricks? How passe. Personally, I would have gone with the 'escaping through a tunnel' option, but then, you might still've been caught." I studied his rapidly purpling countenance, "And, dude. That is SO not your colour."
The others were staring at me as if I'd grown another head. I shrugged and smiled, "Sorry. Grandstanding was never my forte. Are we done here?"
I sensed that I had ruined any plans for people to consider me sane, and sighed. "Look. This isn't going to get us anywhere. Saruman isn't on our side, he's not going to regret what he's done, he won't tell us anything--" I paused, considering, "Well... Unless I used some of my vast knowledge of torture on him, he won't. But that's beside the point. He will try to sow discord and dissent among each and every one of us."
Having successfully ruined what would have been a long and boring conversation, I turned away, satisfied.
Above us, Saruman gave a snarl and stalked away from the window.
Moments later, something came flying out of the window. It was round, and I recognised it as a palantir from Gandalf's descriptions. It reminded me of something, but I couldn't think what.
As the palantir sailed down towards Gandalf, I suddenly realised that I wasn't allowed to touch it. I could move it, but actually picking it up would change the destinies of many things. With precision, I moved its aim so it bypassed my lover and bounced down the steps of the tower. Those around me started as if they hadn't seen it coming, Gandalf shot me an odd look, but I ignored it.
Pippin dashed after the ball of leaded glass, intent on capturing it, probably in some way hoping to be helpful. I felt sick as I watched him touch it, and flashes of a future I was striving against slithered through my mind.
Death and destruction echoed through the world as Sauron won, his ring wrapped around his finger where it belonged. We had lost.
I shook my head, and watched Gandalf take the palantir from Pippin--careful to not actually touch it with anything other than his cloak--and wondered at his reasons for keeping it. It occurred to me that I was probably not going to sleep tonight.
To my relief, I was wrong. We had camped away from Isengard, heading back towards Edoras and the muster of the troops of Rohan. And I was asleep within moments of lying down. I found myself dreaming of nothing in the starlit night, until a cry echoed across the camp. With haste I was on my feet and running towards the sound. I came upon Pippin and Gandalf, the palantir between them for a moment before Gandalf hid it from the view of our camp.
I pondered that as the others gathered. A moment later, Gandalf was calling for Shadowfax and telling Theoden to head for Dunharrow for the mustering.
Alayna appeared at my side as he mounted, and I pulled myself into the saddle, ignoring Gandalf's glare as he pulled Pippin up in front of him.
"We shall ride for Edoras and turn aside the muster, then head for Minas Tirith. Much evil may be averted." Gandalf told Aragorn. He handed him the recovered palantir, and I shivered, "Watch this, and do not look into it."
I found Vin at my side, and smiled, "Take care of yourself, kid. I'll see you at Minas Tirith."
"Yes, my lady." He tried to smile, and couldn't, and I saw the fear in his eyes as he looked around himself. "I would wish for you to stay, yet..."
"My usefulness is in the White City," I said softly. I could feel the pull of it now, the sense that a new pathway had opened into the future of this world. "We shall meet again during battle. Do not falter for an instant!"
Gandalf glanced at me, then signaled Shadowfax, and we were off. I shot a wave to Legolas, Gimli, Merry and Aragorn, then they were swallowed up into the night as we fled into the coming darkness.
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