Random Orcs, or We Fell to Middle Earth
Chapter Thirteen: But *Why* Is The Rum Gone?
by Galadriel Tolkien
Having strapped myself into the saddle, I slept through most of the ride to Edoras, and much of the stop itself. Alayna was good at keeping her gait even so I didn't fall off. Exhaustion was my defining characteristic, always. Gandalf and Pippin didn't seem to notice my silence for which I was grateful. The sleep did me some good.
I awoke at some point during the journey down through the grasslands and mountains to Minas Tirith. We crossed leagues and leagues of nothing worth noting. The third night since we had left the camp, we entered into Gondor, and Pippin attracted Gandalf's attention to fires in the distance. "Look! Fire, red fire! Are there dragons in this land? Look, there is another!"
For answer, Gandalf cried to Shadowfax, "On, Shadowfax! We must hasten! Time is short--the beacons of Gondor are alight, calling for aid. For there is Amon Din, and flame on Eilenach; and there they go speeding west: Nardol, Erelas, Min-Rimmon, Calenhad, and the Halifirien on the borders of Rohan."
::Someone approaches.::
Shadowfax must have heard them, too, for he slowed instead of speeding as Gandalf wished. Presently there came the sound of hoofbeats in the darkness, and shortly three riders appeared like ghosts and vanished into the West.
Heading for Edoras, no doubt. I was suddenly glad that the muster had been sounded so long ago. The army of Rohan would reach us in the nick of time, like it should. Probably.
We took off, then, faster than before. In the darkness, I heard Gandalf explaining various customs for lighting the watchfires, but suddenly felt too tired to listen. I restrapped myself into the saddle, and dozed off, Alayna adjusting her gait to keep me from falling again. Not that I needed the help, but it was kind of her.
Alayna later told me some rather fascinating things, like that there had been seven palantirs. They had been used for communication between the outposts and towers of Gondor. Until Mordor tainted them. It didn't surprise me, really.
Before dawn, we made the gates of Rammas Echor. A huge wall surrounded the fertile valley at the base of the City of Guard. I inspected it while Gandalf argued with the gate guards about letting both I and Pippin in. The young Hobbit awoke and had words of his own with the men of Gondor.
The wall extended for leagues, until it was lost in the mists, and I wondered how quickly it would fall when the armies of Mordor crested it.
The thought made me shiver, and I glanced over at Gandalf to see if he needed help or not.
I was just in time to find him being let in with Pippin. I, apparently, was another matter, and I shot him a glare before giving the men of Gondor my most regal Look. "I am Marya Luthien, friend to the Elves, and survivor of the battle of Helm's Deep. I'm here to help keep your damned country together."
"Mithrandir we know, and have allowed passage, along with his strange Halfling companion," the leader said, "But we cannot allow you to roam free amongst our lands."
"I've made it this far with Gandalf, why the sudden objections?"
"The orders are that no one without the proper--"
"Oh, fuck your orders," I snapped rudely, "Your country is about to become besieged, and you're turning away honest help. Y'know, sometimes I wonder why I bother."
Silence fell for a moment, as they seemed to be taken aback at my cavalier attitude, then the leader half-smiled, "The Lady is plain-speaking."
"Helps cut down on the bullshit."
He glanced at Gandalf, who seemed to be amused at this entire exchange, then shrugged, "On my head be it. My lady, you are allowed access to the fields of the Pelennor, and the White City."
"My thanks." I bowed to him, then Alayna took us into the gate and beyond, and I saw the grasslands and fertile fields stretched out in the starlight. I understood, then, their caution. But it struck me that all their caution would be in vain should Mordor breach those walls. And they would. I shivered again, and nodded to Gandalf.
He and Shadowfax cantered away, Alayna following easily.
::I'm surprised neither of you appear exhausted.::
::I'm sleeping for a week when we get to that damned city.:: She replied shortly.
::What, no boinking the Lord of the Horses?::
She hopped slightly, jarring every bone in my body and nearly causing me to bite my tongue. ::Tetchy today, aren't we.::
::Worried, you twit.::
::About the battle?::
::No, about whether your hair is going to fall out.::
That hurt. My cap of rainbow coloured curls were only now shiny and luxurious after their encounter with the lightning bolt. ::Bitch.::
She was silent for a moment, then seemed to relent slightly, ::We're almost there.::
The sun was beginning to rise, gilding the tops of the city in watery gold. It was a lovely effect, and it filled me with dread to know how close the coming battles were. It was almost enough to make me turn tail and run back past the gates of the Pelennor, all the way to Lorien. But it would never stay safe. Sauron had to be destroyed.
::Even at the cost of our lives.:: Alayna said softly.
::Yes.::
--
Minas Tirith was your typical walled medieval-type city. The first gate was parallel with only the top one. But there were five in between it, in various portions of the city. It took us nearly an hour to reach that top gate, and be ushered into the presence of the Steward of the City. Before that, I noted various architectural bits, and wondered how soon breakfast might be.
Lord Denethor was probably not going to be pleased to have us show up on his doorstep. *I* certainly wouldn't be. But that wasn't my problem.
We were expected, of course. The horses were taken from us at the base of a courtyard, and we crossed it silently. I studied the fountain and its occupant--a drooping dead tree that might once have been magnificent. The sense of decay I caught from it troubled me, but I couldn't stop to ask Gandalf about it.
The tower above us was still gleaming in the morning light, and I wondered how long that would last as we entered the door into the Great Hall. We passed down a corridor, and I overheard Gandalf warning Pippin about his words to Denethor, as he wasn't a kindly man as Theoden had been. I had long guessed that, just from the sense of the city, but it was good to know I'd been right. I noticed my lover didn't warn me, but maybe he guessed me capable of holding my own tongue.
He'd have been half-right, but I suddenly sensed a need to play the stupid maiden, and wondered at the instinct as we halted before a door of polished metal.
It wouldn't be hard to pull off, I just had to adopt a slightly glazed look, and remain silent as a lamb through the ensuing discussion. And escape when Pippin did, hopefully.
Gandalf knocked on the door, and it opened silently. A long arched hallway stretched between us and the high-perched throne. No one sat in that exalted chair, and at the base of the stairs up to the dais sat a smaller chair, with an old man in it. His eyes, even from this distance, were clear and knowing, and I hoped Gandalf's warnings had not fallen on deaf ears.
Stone-faced pillars watched us walk towards him, each a masterful carving of what were probably ancient kings of this land. I didn't care, they were sort of... boring. And with the war coming, they might fall as easily as butter melts into a fire.
We stopped three paces from him, and I let Gandalf take the lead. The man hadn't glanced up save that first look when we entered. Silence lasted for a moment, then Gandalf proclaimed, "Hail, Lord and Steward of Minas Tirith, Denethor son of Ecthelion! I am come with counsel and tidings in this dark hour."
Denethor looked up and I sensed that he was not at all taken in with Gandalf's Grand Gesture. He spoke a bit, sounding like Theoden before the demise of Wormtongue, proclaiming Gandalf Mithrandir, and bearer of Bad Tidings.
I let it go, beginning to wonder if my life had been as bad as I'd thought. I certainly hadn't always been hailed as the Evil Messenger.
The Steward figured out that Pippin had been with his son at his death, and began quizzing him deeply on it. Apparently, the Horn of Gondor had washed up, slashed in twain. I studied the piece of history as it lay in the man's lap, and concluded that the elves had sent it. The faint tracery of elven magic that lay on the horn was unmistakable, and I wondered why Galadriel had felt the need to meddle.
And then Pippin startled me from my reverie, offering his service to the Steward of Gondor, as payment towards the debt of Boromir dying to save his life. I felt something shiver in me, and hoped he wouldn't regret his impetuous offer.
Something in Denethor's eyes softened for a moment as he looked at the defiant Hobbit. Then he swore the hobbit to his service, and commanded him to speak all of his tale. Wine and food were called for, and in short order, I was filling my happy belly with a few sweet meats, washed down with a very fine vintage if I was any judge. And, since I'd had over a thousand yeas of judging, I was very good at it.
For a time, Denethor questioned the hobbit on his journeys with Boromir. He seemed vastly interested in Pippin's mentions of Strider, but didn't press him. Eventually, he and Gandalf seemed to fall into an argument concerning the King returning to Gondor. Something Denethor didn't want.
Gandalf got in a last comment as we were led out to our rooms, my presence almost totally unnoticed by the Steward. As far as I was concerned, this was all to the good. I didn't like the sense of decay I felt, and I liked the man's deviousness even less.
I worried about Pippin, too, but said nothing as we were led to our rooms.
The two of them talked together, and I stayed out of it, feeling suddenly wearier than ever. I reached out for Alayna, needing the comfort of her mind touching mine as I stared out the small window of our room.
::What?::
::I... I think I'm going to dislike the next several days.::
::Yeah.:: She was silent for a moment, then sent a mental hug. ::Not enough sex getting you down?::
::Fuck off.:: I slammed the link between us shut, and turned to find that Gandalf had left us. "Gone to see Denethor again, has he?"
Pippin gave a start, and blinked at me, "I had forgotten you were here."
"It's a useful trick." I went to him and dropped to one knee, catching him in a hug. "I hesitate to sound silly, but... be careful in this new role, my friend." I released him and stood, feeling restlessness touch me. "I don't suppose you'd like to go for a walk?"
A silver-toned bell echoed through the room three times, and I blinked.
"They'd call it nine o'clock in the Shire."
"Three hours after sunrise?"
"Indeed." He tilted his head and looked at me, "Gandalf bade me look in on Shadowfax."
"Good plan."
A man was approaching our door as we stepped out, and I slid into shadow, watching as he greeted Pippin. I hated my sudden status of non-person, and reached out to retrieve from the man's mind the proper 'pass words' he'd mentioned. They were fairly mundane, and I wondered if I would have guessed them anyway.
Pippin shot me a look, and I shook my head, gesturing him to leave me. I could fend for myself, after all. And I didn't want to look in on Alayna until she apologised.
It was unbearably childish of me, of course. Especially since she couldn't apologise with my shields closed to her. But it was the mood I felt to be in; and I was probably hungry.
With that thought in mind, I wandered down into the city. The gate guards either noticed me and accepted my passwords, or didn't notice me and let me pass without comment. I walked to the bottom, and studied the plain outside of it, pondering the strategies we'd need for defense. I sensed that the city was prepared for some sort of assault, but probably not for all-out war. That needed to be changed.
I went along the wall, reading it for structural integrity and chatting with the soldiers I encountered. As a whole they were mildly suspicious of me, but accepting that I was there to help. Some even agreed with my comments on which sections of wall needed more or less defense.
Once I'd learned the first tier, I moved to the second, repeating my earlier actions. The guards here were more relaxed, though still suspicious of this outland woman who dared to tell them their business.
And so I passed the morning, acquainting myself with the city's defenses and soldiers, earning a few nods of trust from one or two captains, and a sense of loyalty from the more common foot soldiers. It was enough that I would be able to use them to bolster our defenses when the time came. They might answer to me if needed.
Towards midday, I found myself starving, and headed for the kitchens by following my innate sense of direction--and my nose.
The kitchen staff seemed startled to see me, but let me claim a corner and munch on a lovely soup and some toasted bread with cheese. It was nicely filling, and I felt revived after finishing it with a glass of very thick ale. Home-brewed stuff that probably very few outside the staff drank.
It reminded me of Guinness, and I thought wistfully of a steaming cup of black coffee.
I went back out into the streets, this time finding the Houses of Healing, where the sick and injured were tended. I made sure they were gearing up for the many casualties we were certain to have, then left before the old matron could collar me and fill my head with Old Lore. I didn't have time for it, as interesting as it might have been.
Hours later, I sensed something from the front gates and hastened my way down through the city, taking a few shortcuts by hopping over fences and traversing roofs. By the time I reached the ground level, a large group of men had arrived. About 200 from Lossarnach, according to the guard I talked to. It was nice, but nowhere near as many as we'd need. I didn't say this, but others did.
I spotted Pippin and made my way to him, he introduced me to the young boy with him, Bergil, son of Beregond, Pippin's comrade in the City Guard. We chatted amiably for a time, then supper was called and the three of us separated as we made our way back up to the seventh tier.
After supper, Pippin settled into his bed and slept. I spent a long time perched cross-legged on the second bed in the room, waiting for Gandalf to return. Towards midnight, he slipped in, silent and weary looking. To my eyes he needed more sleep than he would get.
He didn't seem to notice me at first, pacing to and fro in a sort of exhausted frustration. "When will Faramir return?" I heard him mumble over and over.
I finally could bear it no longer, and interrupted him softly, "I don't know."
With a start, he turned to me. "Marya."
"Forgotten I'd followed you like a lost puppy dog, had you?"
He pondered his words carefully, then half-smiled, "You worked hard to make yourself unnoticeable, I'm afraid."
I sighed, unable to keep up the bantering, "The city is not going to survive unless Rohan arrives in time."
"They should."
"Delay is inevitable in situations like this," I pointed out with asperity.
"Such cynicism."
"My dreams have been dark." I looked away from his questioning look, "Much will happen that I cannot affect. And what I can..."
He came to me, and we held each other for a time in silence.
Pippin woke up and interrupted us, pulling Gandalf away, and chatting softly. I didn't mind, but I knew that all three of us needed sleep if I had to pull tricks to get the wizard into bed, I would.
I waited until the hobbit was asleep again, then stood and made my way to Gandalf. He stood looking out into the dark, his posture weary. "Come to bed."
"Sleep is not for me."
"Right." I snorted and wrapped my arms around him from behind, leaning into his back as he tensed. "I'm not planning on anything more strenuous than snuggling while I sleep, O Great Wizard."
"I doubt it would be comfortable."
"You think too much."
I felt him shift, almost but not quite chuckling as he turned in my arms to look at me, "You're so very wise."
"I wasn't gonna say it first."
He snorted and touched his forehead to mine. "You shall sleep, then. I shall merely watch the wonderful woman I have found."
"Watch?" I raised an eyebrow.
"You look very innocent when you sleep."
"An impression that goes away milliseconds after I awaken, I imagine."
"Indeed."
We stood there for a bit, just holding each other. Until I sighed. "C'mon, Gandalf. Let's go to bed so I can get a good night's sleep."
Sex was not too close in my head. There was too much that would have to be done in the next several days for me to want to waste energy on sex. It was almost sad, though.
::Celibacy never suited you.::
::Yeah, well... Live fast, die hard, resurrect in irritation.::
I curled up, Gandalf next to me as I sort of octopussed around him, pulling the blanket over both of us. For a moment I was awake, and then I wasn't, happily asleep and snuggled.
--
Dead men followed me as I walked the paths of the night. Cold and icy fingers occasionally glided along my skin, sending me into shivering fits. I wanted to run, to leave this place of unearthly dread. Yet I could not, for my purpose was to claim these dead men as my own, to bring them into battle and fight the unearthly evils of Sauron.
People, alive people, followed me, and I sensed that they were afraid, yet not. They would follow me to their graves and beyond, and I suddenly sensed that I wasn't me. I was someone else, someone I shouldn't have been.
With a start, I realised I was a passenger inside Aragorn's head. A silent observer as he walked the Paths of the Dead. I didn't know how I knew that, but I did. In some ways, I didn't care.
But I shouldn't have been there, watching as the darkness slowly stole the breaths from his people.
I guessed, suddenly, that I was viewing an echo of something that had occurred as we rode to Minas Tirith. I hoped it had ended well.
Without warning, I was dragged from my perch. The darkness turned into brightness, and I found myself standing on top of a tower in the middle of a desert.
Mordor. The evil that touched the land thrummed in my veins, stealing my breath. With a wrench, I threw myself out of the dream, and found myself panting on all fours, the floorboards cool under my fingertips.
Gandalf looked over the edge of the mattress at me, concern in his face.
I moved onto my knees, straightening my back until it popped several times. "Nightmare."
He raised an eyebrow, but didn't comment. Instead, he moved back from the edge, opening up the snuggly warm space I had vacated.
With a sigh, I crawled back in, then blinked. I felt rather well-rested, as if it should be morning. But the lack of light from the window proved that darkness still held sway outside.
"It's morning, isn't it." I whispered, not really wanting to know.
"The sun has not yet appeared," He replied cryptically.
"Damn." I sat up, and then stood. My body felt more rested than it had in a while, and I wondered if Gandalf had used a spell to add extra sleep to our time. It didn't matter, really. I peered out the window, inspecting the twilight that was being enforced from Mordor. The spell lines slunk around, a sticky green-grey. For a moment, I pondered breaking it, then realised it would be useless. I couldn't spend the day constantly breaking spells Sauron sent. And this one wasn't very bad.
I turned to Gandalf, who was still sitting in bed, "I should go. Reassure the guards and stuff."
He looked sardonically at me, "Reassure seasoned men?"
"Even seasoned men are unsettled by such as this." I pointed over my shoulder. "I'll have breakfast sent up for the two of you."
He stood, then, and came towards me, eyes suddenly dark with worry. "You will eat as well?"
"Yes." I caught his face in my hands and kissed him gently, "I shall see you later. Promise."
--
Chapter Thirteen: But *Why* Is The Rum Gone?
by Galadriel Tolkien
Having strapped myself into the saddle, I slept through most of the ride to Edoras, and much of the stop itself. Alayna was good at keeping her gait even so I didn't fall off. Exhaustion was my defining characteristic, always. Gandalf and Pippin didn't seem to notice my silence for which I was grateful. The sleep did me some good.
I awoke at some point during the journey down through the grasslands and mountains to Minas Tirith. We crossed leagues and leagues of nothing worth noting. The third night since we had left the camp, we entered into Gondor, and Pippin attracted Gandalf's attention to fires in the distance. "Look! Fire, red fire! Are there dragons in this land? Look, there is another!"
For answer, Gandalf cried to Shadowfax, "On, Shadowfax! We must hasten! Time is short--the beacons of Gondor are alight, calling for aid. For there is Amon Din, and flame on Eilenach; and there they go speeding west: Nardol, Erelas, Min-Rimmon, Calenhad, and the Halifirien on the borders of Rohan."
::Someone approaches.::
Shadowfax must have heard them, too, for he slowed instead of speeding as Gandalf wished. Presently there came the sound of hoofbeats in the darkness, and shortly three riders appeared like ghosts and vanished into the West.
Heading for Edoras, no doubt. I was suddenly glad that the muster had been sounded so long ago. The army of Rohan would reach us in the nick of time, like it should. Probably.
We took off, then, faster than before. In the darkness, I heard Gandalf explaining various customs for lighting the watchfires, but suddenly felt too tired to listen. I restrapped myself into the saddle, and dozed off, Alayna adjusting her gait to keep me from falling again. Not that I needed the help, but it was kind of her.
Alayna later told me some rather fascinating things, like that there had been seven palantirs. They had been used for communication between the outposts and towers of Gondor. Until Mordor tainted them. It didn't surprise me, really.
Before dawn, we made the gates of Rammas Echor. A huge wall surrounded the fertile valley at the base of the City of Guard. I inspected it while Gandalf argued with the gate guards about letting both I and Pippin in. The young Hobbit awoke and had words of his own with the men of Gondor.
The wall extended for leagues, until it was lost in the mists, and I wondered how quickly it would fall when the armies of Mordor crested it.
The thought made me shiver, and I glanced over at Gandalf to see if he needed help or not.
I was just in time to find him being let in with Pippin. I, apparently, was another matter, and I shot him a glare before giving the men of Gondor my most regal Look. "I am Marya Luthien, friend to the Elves, and survivor of the battle of Helm's Deep. I'm here to help keep your damned country together."
"Mithrandir we know, and have allowed passage, along with his strange Halfling companion," the leader said, "But we cannot allow you to roam free amongst our lands."
"I've made it this far with Gandalf, why the sudden objections?"
"The orders are that no one without the proper--"
"Oh, fuck your orders," I snapped rudely, "Your country is about to become besieged, and you're turning away honest help. Y'know, sometimes I wonder why I bother."
Silence fell for a moment, as they seemed to be taken aback at my cavalier attitude, then the leader half-smiled, "The Lady is plain-speaking."
"Helps cut down on the bullshit."
He glanced at Gandalf, who seemed to be amused at this entire exchange, then shrugged, "On my head be it. My lady, you are allowed access to the fields of the Pelennor, and the White City."
"My thanks." I bowed to him, then Alayna took us into the gate and beyond, and I saw the grasslands and fertile fields stretched out in the starlight. I understood, then, their caution. But it struck me that all their caution would be in vain should Mordor breach those walls. And they would. I shivered again, and nodded to Gandalf.
He and Shadowfax cantered away, Alayna following easily.
::I'm surprised neither of you appear exhausted.::
::I'm sleeping for a week when we get to that damned city.:: She replied shortly.
::What, no boinking the Lord of the Horses?::
She hopped slightly, jarring every bone in my body and nearly causing me to bite my tongue. ::Tetchy today, aren't we.::
::Worried, you twit.::
::About the battle?::
::No, about whether your hair is going to fall out.::
That hurt. My cap of rainbow coloured curls were only now shiny and luxurious after their encounter with the lightning bolt. ::Bitch.::
She was silent for a moment, then seemed to relent slightly, ::We're almost there.::
The sun was beginning to rise, gilding the tops of the city in watery gold. It was a lovely effect, and it filled me with dread to know how close the coming battles were. It was almost enough to make me turn tail and run back past the gates of the Pelennor, all the way to Lorien. But it would never stay safe. Sauron had to be destroyed.
::Even at the cost of our lives.:: Alayna said softly.
::Yes.::
--
Minas Tirith was your typical walled medieval-type city. The first gate was parallel with only the top one. But there were five in between it, in various portions of the city. It took us nearly an hour to reach that top gate, and be ushered into the presence of the Steward of the City. Before that, I noted various architectural bits, and wondered how soon breakfast might be.
Lord Denethor was probably not going to be pleased to have us show up on his doorstep. *I* certainly wouldn't be. But that wasn't my problem.
We were expected, of course. The horses were taken from us at the base of a courtyard, and we crossed it silently. I studied the fountain and its occupant--a drooping dead tree that might once have been magnificent. The sense of decay I caught from it troubled me, but I couldn't stop to ask Gandalf about it.
The tower above us was still gleaming in the morning light, and I wondered how long that would last as we entered the door into the Great Hall. We passed down a corridor, and I overheard Gandalf warning Pippin about his words to Denethor, as he wasn't a kindly man as Theoden had been. I had long guessed that, just from the sense of the city, but it was good to know I'd been right. I noticed my lover didn't warn me, but maybe he guessed me capable of holding my own tongue.
He'd have been half-right, but I suddenly sensed a need to play the stupid maiden, and wondered at the instinct as we halted before a door of polished metal.
It wouldn't be hard to pull off, I just had to adopt a slightly glazed look, and remain silent as a lamb through the ensuing discussion. And escape when Pippin did, hopefully.
Gandalf knocked on the door, and it opened silently. A long arched hallway stretched between us and the high-perched throne. No one sat in that exalted chair, and at the base of the stairs up to the dais sat a smaller chair, with an old man in it. His eyes, even from this distance, were clear and knowing, and I hoped Gandalf's warnings had not fallen on deaf ears.
Stone-faced pillars watched us walk towards him, each a masterful carving of what were probably ancient kings of this land. I didn't care, they were sort of... boring. And with the war coming, they might fall as easily as butter melts into a fire.
We stopped three paces from him, and I let Gandalf take the lead. The man hadn't glanced up save that first look when we entered. Silence lasted for a moment, then Gandalf proclaimed, "Hail, Lord and Steward of Minas Tirith, Denethor son of Ecthelion! I am come with counsel and tidings in this dark hour."
Denethor looked up and I sensed that he was not at all taken in with Gandalf's Grand Gesture. He spoke a bit, sounding like Theoden before the demise of Wormtongue, proclaiming Gandalf Mithrandir, and bearer of Bad Tidings.
I let it go, beginning to wonder if my life had been as bad as I'd thought. I certainly hadn't always been hailed as the Evil Messenger.
The Steward figured out that Pippin had been with his son at his death, and began quizzing him deeply on it. Apparently, the Horn of Gondor had washed up, slashed in twain. I studied the piece of history as it lay in the man's lap, and concluded that the elves had sent it. The faint tracery of elven magic that lay on the horn was unmistakable, and I wondered why Galadriel had felt the need to meddle.
And then Pippin startled me from my reverie, offering his service to the Steward of Gondor, as payment towards the debt of Boromir dying to save his life. I felt something shiver in me, and hoped he wouldn't regret his impetuous offer.
Something in Denethor's eyes softened for a moment as he looked at the defiant Hobbit. Then he swore the hobbit to his service, and commanded him to speak all of his tale. Wine and food were called for, and in short order, I was filling my happy belly with a few sweet meats, washed down with a very fine vintage if I was any judge. And, since I'd had over a thousand yeas of judging, I was very good at it.
For a time, Denethor questioned the hobbit on his journeys with Boromir. He seemed vastly interested in Pippin's mentions of Strider, but didn't press him. Eventually, he and Gandalf seemed to fall into an argument concerning the King returning to Gondor. Something Denethor didn't want.
Gandalf got in a last comment as we were led out to our rooms, my presence almost totally unnoticed by the Steward. As far as I was concerned, this was all to the good. I didn't like the sense of decay I felt, and I liked the man's deviousness even less.
I worried about Pippin, too, but said nothing as we were led to our rooms.
The two of them talked together, and I stayed out of it, feeling suddenly wearier than ever. I reached out for Alayna, needing the comfort of her mind touching mine as I stared out the small window of our room.
::What?::
::I... I think I'm going to dislike the next several days.::
::Yeah.:: She was silent for a moment, then sent a mental hug. ::Not enough sex getting you down?::
::Fuck off.:: I slammed the link between us shut, and turned to find that Gandalf had left us. "Gone to see Denethor again, has he?"
Pippin gave a start, and blinked at me, "I had forgotten you were here."
"It's a useful trick." I went to him and dropped to one knee, catching him in a hug. "I hesitate to sound silly, but... be careful in this new role, my friend." I released him and stood, feeling restlessness touch me. "I don't suppose you'd like to go for a walk?"
A silver-toned bell echoed through the room three times, and I blinked.
"They'd call it nine o'clock in the Shire."
"Three hours after sunrise?"
"Indeed." He tilted his head and looked at me, "Gandalf bade me look in on Shadowfax."
"Good plan."
A man was approaching our door as we stepped out, and I slid into shadow, watching as he greeted Pippin. I hated my sudden status of non-person, and reached out to retrieve from the man's mind the proper 'pass words' he'd mentioned. They were fairly mundane, and I wondered if I would have guessed them anyway.
Pippin shot me a look, and I shook my head, gesturing him to leave me. I could fend for myself, after all. And I didn't want to look in on Alayna until she apologised.
It was unbearably childish of me, of course. Especially since she couldn't apologise with my shields closed to her. But it was the mood I felt to be in; and I was probably hungry.
With that thought in mind, I wandered down into the city. The gate guards either noticed me and accepted my passwords, or didn't notice me and let me pass without comment. I walked to the bottom, and studied the plain outside of it, pondering the strategies we'd need for defense. I sensed that the city was prepared for some sort of assault, but probably not for all-out war. That needed to be changed.
I went along the wall, reading it for structural integrity and chatting with the soldiers I encountered. As a whole they were mildly suspicious of me, but accepting that I was there to help. Some even agreed with my comments on which sections of wall needed more or less defense.
Once I'd learned the first tier, I moved to the second, repeating my earlier actions. The guards here were more relaxed, though still suspicious of this outland woman who dared to tell them their business.
And so I passed the morning, acquainting myself with the city's defenses and soldiers, earning a few nods of trust from one or two captains, and a sense of loyalty from the more common foot soldiers. It was enough that I would be able to use them to bolster our defenses when the time came. They might answer to me if needed.
Towards midday, I found myself starving, and headed for the kitchens by following my innate sense of direction--and my nose.
The kitchen staff seemed startled to see me, but let me claim a corner and munch on a lovely soup and some toasted bread with cheese. It was nicely filling, and I felt revived after finishing it with a glass of very thick ale. Home-brewed stuff that probably very few outside the staff drank.
It reminded me of Guinness, and I thought wistfully of a steaming cup of black coffee.
I went back out into the streets, this time finding the Houses of Healing, where the sick and injured were tended. I made sure they were gearing up for the many casualties we were certain to have, then left before the old matron could collar me and fill my head with Old Lore. I didn't have time for it, as interesting as it might have been.
Hours later, I sensed something from the front gates and hastened my way down through the city, taking a few shortcuts by hopping over fences and traversing roofs. By the time I reached the ground level, a large group of men had arrived. About 200 from Lossarnach, according to the guard I talked to. It was nice, but nowhere near as many as we'd need. I didn't say this, but others did.
I spotted Pippin and made my way to him, he introduced me to the young boy with him, Bergil, son of Beregond, Pippin's comrade in the City Guard. We chatted amiably for a time, then supper was called and the three of us separated as we made our way back up to the seventh tier.
After supper, Pippin settled into his bed and slept. I spent a long time perched cross-legged on the second bed in the room, waiting for Gandalf to return. Towards midnight, he slipped in, silent and weary looking. To my eyes he needed more sleep than he would get.
He didn't seem to notice me at first, pacing to and fro in a sort of exhausted frustration. "When will Faramir return?" I heard him mumble over and over.
I finally could bear it no longer, and interrupted him softly, "I don't know."
With a start, he turned to me. "Marya."
"Forgotten I'd followed you like a lost puppy dog, had you?"
He pondered his words carefully, then half-smiled, "You worked hard to make yourself unnoticeable, I'm afraid."
I sighed, unable to keep up the bantering, "The city is not going to survive unless Rohan arrives in time."
"They should."
"Delay is inevitable in situations like this," I pointed out with asperity.
"Such cynicism."
"My dreams have been dark." I looked away from his questioning look, "Much will happen that I cannot affect. And what I can..."
He came to me, and we held each other for a time in silence.
Pippin woke up and interrupted us, pulling Gandalf away, and chatting softly. I didn't mind, but I knew that all three of us needed sleep if I had to pull tricks to get the wizard into bed, I would.
I waited until the hobbit was asleep again, then stood and made my way to Gandalf. He stood looking out into the dark, his posture weary. "Come to bed."
"Sleep is not for me."
"Right." I snorted and wrapped my arms around him from behind, leaning into his back as he tensed. "I'm not planning on anything more strenuous than snuggling while I sleep, O Great Wizard."
"I doubt it would be comfortable."
"You think too much."
I felt him shift, almost but not quite chuckling as he turned in my arms to look at me, "You're so very wise."
"I wasn't gonna say it first."
He snorted and touched his forehead to mine. "You shall sleep, then. I shall merely watch the wonderful woman I have found."
"Watch?" I raised an eyebrow.
"You look very innocent when you sleep."
"An impression that goes away milliseconds after I awaken, I imagine."
"Indeed."
We stood there for a bit, just holding each other. Until I sighed. "C'mon, Gandalf. Let's go to bed so I can get a good night's sleep."
Sex was not too close in my head. There was too much that would have to be done in the next several days for me to want to waste energy on sex. It was almost sad, though.
::Celibacy never suited you.::
::Yeah, well... Live fast, die hard, resurrect in irritation.::
I curled up, Gandalf next to me as I sort of octopussed around him, pulling the blanket over both of us. For a moment I was awake, and then I wasn't, happily asleep and snuggled.
--
Dead men followed me as I walked the paths of the night. Cold and icy fingers occasionally glided along my skin, sending me into shivering fits. I wanted to run, to leave this place of unearthly dread. Yet I could not, for my purpose was to claim these dead men as my own, to bring them into battle and fight the unearthly evils of Sauron.
People, alive people, followed me, and I sensed that they were afraid, yet not. They would follow me to their graves and beyond, and I suddenly sensed that I wasn't me. I was someone else, someone I shouldn't have been.
With a start, I realised I was a passenger inside Aragorn's head. A silent observer as he walked the Paths of the Dead. I didn't know how I knew that, but I did. In some ways, I didn't care.
But I shouldn't have been there, watching as the darkness slowly stole the breaths from his people.
I guessed, suddenly, that I was viewing an echo of something that had occurred as we rode to Minas Tirith. I hoped it had ended well.
Without warning, I was dragged from my perch. The darkness turned into brightness, and I found myself standing on top of a tower in the middle of a desert.
Mordor. The evil that touched the land thrummed in my veins, stealing my breath. With a wrench, I threw myself out of the dream, and found myself panting on all fours, the floorboards cool under my fingertips.
Gandalf looked over the edge of the mattress at me, concern in his face.
I moved onto my knees, straightening my back until it popped several times. "Nightmare."
He raised an eyebrow, but didn't comment. Instead, he moved back from the edge, opening up the snuggly warm space I had vacated.
With a sigh, I crawled back in, then blinked. I felt rather well-rested, as if it should be morning. But the lack of light from the window proved that darkness still held sway outside.
"It's morning, isn't it." I whispered, not really wanting to know.
"The sun has not yet appeared," He replied cryptically.
"Damn." I sat up, and then stood. My body felt more rested than it had in a while, and I wondered if Gandalf had used a spell to add extra sleep to our time. It didn't matter, really. I peered out the window, inspecting the twilight that was being enforced from Mordor. The spell lines slunk around, a sticky green-grey. For a moment, I pondered breaking it, then realised it would be useless. I couldn't spend the day constantly breaking spells Sauron sent. And this one wasn't very bad.
I turned to Gandalf, who was still sitting in bed, "I should go. Reassure the guards and stuff."
He looked sardonically at me, "Reassure seasoned men?"
"Even seasoned men are unsettled by such as this." I pointed over my shoulder. "I'll have breakfast sent up for the two of you."
He stood, then, and came towards me, eyes suddenly dark with worry. "You will eat as well?"
"Yes." I caught his face in my hands and kissed him gently, "I shall see you later. Promise."
--