Authors Note: None of Tolkien's creations belong to me, only Jen, Gyst and
various Mary Sues who may appear do.
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We were fleeing Edoras. Theoden had decided that the city was too indefensible and that fleeing to Helms Deep, the ancient refuge, was our only chance.
I stayed out of the way of the councils of war, and alternated between the stables, the kitchens and Eowyns room. I had asked her to teach me to use a sword since she was a shieldmaiden, and in return I told her stories. Stories about Aragorn, stories of battle and of my own world.
The four occasionally came to see how I was getting on and coping with things. I generally told them that I was fine. And now that I had made my decision, I was a lot happier.
When the time came to leave, things were quickly packed and sorted, and we were moving. I reclaimed Gyst, and was loaded with a variety of baggage and sent off. I had attracted a few peculiar looks from some of the riders, but with a quick explanation, I was soon pestered with questions.
We set off, setting an easy but steady pace as we traveled onwards to Helms Deep. I rose in the middle of the group, being regaled with tales of Rohan and in turn telling tales of my own. I kept giggling at Gimli, who seemed to have taken over as the comic relief, and kept watching Aragorn and Eowyn, watching the embers between then kindle and burn.
Despite the seriousness of the occasion, it was a good way to pass the time, and for a few minutes at a time, we could forget things.
I did my best to keep alert, watching for a certain moment, when Gamling and Hama would ride forward, since that would herald the Warg attack.
I really had to grit my teeth not to call out a warning, to tell the column what was going to happen and to try and prevent deaths and apparent deaths. But that I could not do. My brother was the one who understood about continuity and could tell you what would happen if a certain event didn't take place. I only knew that things would go arse over tit.
And so it happened, and I took a firm grip on Gyst's reins as Gamling and Hama rode forward as scouts.
Then as the Wargs attacked, chaos began to spread. Aragorn looked at me, asking with his eyes if I was going to join in. I shook my head and bit my tongue. There was no way that I would join in.
Eowyn's voice rang out as she tried to order the people, subsuming her desire for glory in her uncle's order to remain with the people. I took a deep breath.
"Calm down! Make an orderly move! The eored will protect us, there is no need to fear!" I called, straining to make myself heard as I had done a hundred times before in the classroom. I nudged Gyst forward, guiding the panicking people onwards. I could remain calm. For I knew what was to happen. Eowyn shot me a grateful look as she continued to chivvy the people onwards.
-----------
Helms Deep loomed on the horizon, even from this distance looking invincible. The sight was incredible, amazing and awe-inspiring.
A ragged cheer rose from our group and the small child I had managed to acquire bounced on Gyst's back while I walked beside. Eowyn looked over at me, a faint smile on her face, though her eyes were worried.
"We made it." She murmured.
"Thanks to you." I returned quietly.
Eowyn nodded, before she settled her burden more comfortably on her shoulder before she approached the gate, which gaped open to admit us.
As we passed inside the fortress, on foot or leading horses, I marveled at the sheer thickness of the defensive walls, and at the crowd of refugees that were already inside. It would be difficult to fit us all in, but we had to. And there were always the caves.
Gyst was unloaded and the baggage distributed, the child claimed by its mother. Everyone was given something to do, while we waited for news of the eored. I volunteered to look after some of the cooking, to avoid seeing the betrayal in Legolas or Gimli's eyes. They both knew that I knew the future, and to have apparently sent Aragorn to his death, they would hate me. I only hoped that if I was forced to reveal the truth of what had actually happened, they would believe me.
I heard the clatter of hooves on stone ramps from where I industriously stirred a stew and had a vague cooking lesson from a matronly Rohirrim lady named Hanild, who had taken me under her wing.
Rather than seek out Legolas or Gimli, I would let them seek me out. Perhaps the hunt might cool their tempers slightly.
It did in a way. And it did prevent an ugly scene in front of many. Only Hanild was there to see an irate dwarf storm in, grab me by the arm in a vice-like grip, and drag me to an out of the way corner to argue.
"How could you?" he demanded, glaring at me fiercely. "Have you no heart?"
That accusation wounded me, and harsh words rose to my lips, words of things that I should not say. But I bit them back, choosing others.
"Quiet Gimli. Give me a chance to defend myself against your accusations." I instructed. Gimli bridled, but quietened. I continued, the desperate need to make myself clear communicating itself clearly in my voice.
"To tell you this may have changed everything. I could not risk a small change which might have affected everything in ways I couldn't see! I could tell you all I know, but then risk that ending changing because of my interference. And I couldn't do that to you. No matter what happened, what pain happens, I know what happens and I could not change that for any of you."
"I, we, thought you cared for Aragorn. But you let him go to his death, dashing our hopes for the future, and now, you do not even mourn him! Not a tear have you shed for him, and no sorrow is in your voice."
That did it. It was most definitely not a wise thing to do, but my hand lashed out and cracked across the side of Gimli's face before I could stop it.
"I do not mourn Master Dwarf, for Aragorn is not dead." I hissed, fury boiling within me, both at myself for losing control in this way, and at Gimli. But there was no way I could have stopped the flow of words. "He fell over the cliff into the river and drifted downstream. He lies on a bank now, thrown up by the current, dreaming of Arwen. A horse will seek him out and he will see the enemy as it marches here to Helms Deep. He will return to this fortress to warn Theoden. Then the battle will truly begin. And that is why, Gimli, I do not mourn, for one who is not dead. And you speak to me of his future? I know /all/ that he will become. I know what lies before all of you, but I do not, can not, will not speak of any of it to you, not matter how much I love and care for you."
I trailed off, the words sticking in my throat and choking me, blinking through tear blurred eyes at Gimli who stared at me, a red mark appearing on his face. I fell to my knees, shaking with the passions I had just exhausted.
Then Gimli hugged me, whispering words that I could not understand as my tears soaked his shoulder. And all was forgiven between us.
I swore him to keep this a secret from all but Legolas, and he agreed, but nothing could conceal the spring in his step as he left. And I grinned through my red eyes to see it. But I would have to coach my two friends in their words and reaction when Aragorn returned. That way I might be able to avoid doing any damage. Then I went back to my cookery, under the rather bemused Hanilds supervision. Mind you, one word was enough to make her nod in understanding, before turning her attention back to my pot. And the word was,
"Dwarves."
--------
We were fleeing Edoras. Theoden had decided that the city was too indefensible and that fleeing to Helms Deep, the ancient refuge, was our only chance.
I stayed out of the way of the councils of war, and alternated between the stables, the kitchens and Eowyns room. I had asked her to teach me to use a sword since she was a shieldmaiden, and in return I told her stories. Stories about Aragorn, stories of battle and of my own world.
The four occasionally came to see how I was getting on and coping with things. I generally told them that I was fine. And now that I had made my decision, I was a lot happier.
When the time came to leave, things were quickly packed and sorted, and we were moving. I reclaimed Gyst, and was loaded with a variety of baggage and sent off. I had attracted a few peculiar looks from some of the riders, but with a quick explanation, I was soon pestered with questions.
We set off, setting an easy but steady pace as we traveled onwards to Helms Deep. I rose in the middle of the group, being regaled with tales of Rohan and in turn telling tales of my own. I kept giggling at Gimli, who seemed to have taken over as the comic relief, and kept watching Aragorn and Eowyn, watching the embers between then kindle and burn.
Despite the seriousness of the occasion, it was a good way to pass the time, and for a few minutes at a time, we could forget things.
I did my best to keep alert, watching for a certain moment, when Gamling and Hama would ride forward, since that would herald the Warg attack.
I really had to grit my teeth not to call out a warning, to tell the column what was going to happen and to try and prevent deaths and apparent deaths. But that I could not do. My brother was the one who understood about continuity and could tell you what would happen if a certain event didn't take place. I only knew that things would go arse over tit.
And so it happened, and I took a firm grip on Gyst's reins as Gamling and Hama rode forward as scouts.
Then as the Wargs attacked, chaos began to spread. Aragorn looked at me, asking with his eyes if I was going to join in. I shook my head and bit my tongue. There was no way that I would join in.
Eowyn's voice rang out as she tried to order the people, subsuming her desire for glory in her uncle's order to remain with the people. I took a deep breath.
"Calm down! Make an orderly move! The eored will protect us, there is no need to fear!" I called, straining to make myself heard as I had done a hundred times before in the classroom. I nudged Gyst forward, guiding the panicking people onwards. I could remain calm. For I knew what was to happen. Eowyn shot me a grateful look as she continued to chivvy the people onwards.
-----------
Helms Deep loomed on the horizon, even from this distance looking invincible. The sight was incredible, amazing and awe-inspiring.
A ragged cheer rose from our group and the small child I had managed to acquire bounced on Gyst's back while I walked beside. Eowyn looked over at me, a faint smile on her face, though her eyes were worried.
"We made it." She murmured.
"Thanks to you." I returned quietly.
Eowyn nodded, before she settled her burden more comfortably on her shoulder before she approached the gate, which gaped open to admit us.
As we passed inside the fortress, on foot or leading horses, I marveled at the sheer thickness of the defensive walls, and at the crowd of refugees that were already inside. It would be difficult to fit us all in, but we had to. And there were always the caves.
Gyst was unloaded and the baggage distributed, the child claimed by its mother. Everyone was given something to do, while we waited for news of the eored. I volunteered to look after some of the cooking, to avoid seeing the betrayal in Legolas or Gimli's eyes. They both knew that I knew the future, and to have apparently sent Aragorn to his death, they would hate me. I only hoped that if I was forced to reveal the truth of what had actually happened, they would believe me.
I heard the clatter of hooves on stone ramps from where I industriously stirred a stew and had a vague cooking lesson from a matronly Rohirrim lady named Hanild, who had taken me under her wing.
Rather than seek out Legolas or Gimli, I would let them seek me out. Perhaps the hunt might cool their tempers slightly.
It did in a way. And it did prevent an ugly scene in front of many. Only Hanild was there to see an irate dwarf storm in, grab me by the arm in a vice-like grip, and drag me to an out of the way corner to argue.
"How could you?" he demanded, glaring at me fiercely. "Have you no heart?"
That accusation wounded me, and harsh words rose to my lips, words of things that I should not say. But I bit them back, choosing others.
"Quiet Gimli. Give me a chance to defend myself against your accusations." I instructed. Gimli bridled, but quietened. I continued, the desperate need to make myself clear communicating itself clearly in my voice.
"To tell you this may have changed everything. I could not risk a small change which might have affected everything in ways I couldn't see! I could tell you all I know, but then risk that ending changing because of my interference. And I couldn't do that to you. No matter what happened, what pain happens, I know what happens and I could not change that for any of you."
"I, we, thought you cared for Aragorn. But you let him go to his death, dashing our hopes for the future, and now, you do not even mourn him! Not a tear have you shed for him, and no sorrow is in your voice."
That did it. It was most definitely not a wise thing to do, but my hand lashed out and cracked across the side of Gimli's face before I could stop it.
"I do not mourn Master Dwarf, for Aragorn is not dead." I hissed, fury boiling within me, both at myself for losing control in this way, and at Gimli. But there was no way I could have stopped the flow of words. "He fell over the cliff into the river and drifted downstream. He lies on a bank now, thrown up by the current, dreaming of Arwen. A horse will seek him out and he will see the enemy as it marches here to Helms Deep. He will return to this fortress to warn Theoden. Then the battle will truly begin. And that is why, Gimli, I do not mourn, for one who is not dead. And you speak to me of his future? I know /all/ that he will become. I know what lies before all of you, but I do not, can not, will not speak of any of it to you, not matter how much I love and care for you."
I trailed off, the words sticking in my throat and choking me, blinking through tear blurred eyes at Gimli who stared at me, a red mark appearing on his face. I fell to my knees, shaking with the passions I had just exhausted.
Then Gimli hugged me, whispering words that I could not understand as my tears soaked his shoulder. And all was forgiven between us.
I swore him to keep this a secret from all but Legolas, and he agreed, but nothing could conceal the spring in his step as he left. And I grinned through my red eyes to see it. But I would have to coach my two friends in their words and reaction when Aragorn returned. That way I might be able to avoid doing any damage. Then I went back to my cookery, under the rather bemused Hanilds supervision. Mind you, one word was enough to make her nod in understanding, before turning her attention back to my pot. And the word was,
"Dwarves."