Disclaimer: All Star Trek related characters belongs to Paramount; all Lord
of the Rings related characters belongs to J.R.R. Tolkien. I am merely
borrowing them.
Extremely, extremely sorry for the delay between posts. School decided to get very busy. It actually is still busy but I've had enough of it so I'm ignoring it, yay go me.
And Lord of the Rings won Best Picture, Best Director, everything... SO awesome!
*********************
THE SHADOW RIDERS
Chapter Six: An Unexpected Attack
"Hail, Lord of the Mark!" said Éomer. "The dark night has passed, and day has come again. But the day has brought strange tidings." ~J.R.R. Tolkien, The Lord of the Rings
*********************
"Wargs! We are under attack!"
There were no clouds overhead yet, but a heaviness was in the air; it was hot for the season of the year. The sun was hazy, and behind it, following it slowly up the sky, there was a growing darkness, as of a great storm moving out of the East. And away in the North-west there seemed to be another darkness brooding about the feet of the Misty Mountains, a shadow that crept down slowly from the Wizard's Vale.
The long, ragtag line of refugees cast their eyes to the shadow and shivered despite the warm wind, the darkness doing nothing to improve their despairing spirits. They had walked for two days now and Helm's Deep drew near. So close it was, and yet so far away.
Hoshi tramped along beside Éowyn, eyes seeing none of the beauty of the world around her, when the call echoed along the line of men, women, and horses. "Wargs?" she said, mystified. Éowyn's eyes flashed.
The men sprang into action at once, reaching for sword and shield, and hastily tightening the saddle-girths around the proud warhorses. "Riders to the head of the column!" bellowed Théoden, his voice thundering above the pounding hooves of the riders' horses.
With one swift, fluid movement, Éowyn made for her sword, half-hidden beneath her mare's saddle blanket. She threw a defiant glance at Hoshi, eyes blazing with battle fury as she drew the sword from the scabbard. "Éowyn, no," said Hoshi softly.
"She is right," said Théoden, riding past. "You must lead the people to Helm's Deep, and make haste!" He reined in his stallion and glared down at his niece.
"I can fight!" cried Éowyn, her voice choked with desperation.
"No," said Théoden. "You must do this." For a moment blue met blue, the one clear and young, the other pale and wise, and Hoshi feared that Éowyn would not yield to her uncle and king.
But she reluctantly sighed and turned away from her uncle. "Make for the lower ground! Stay together!" she cried and strode off to lead the long line away from danger.
Théoden nodded once to Hoshi, face set in grim lines, and shouted to the warriors, "Follow me!" Away the riders pounded and the women and child cried out for their husbands and fathers, fearful that they should never see them again.
Hoshi's eyes fixed on one dark head, hair shorter than all the rest, clutching Aragorn around the waist as they rode away over the grassy hills. So he was going. She had hoped he would have more sense than that.
A tear, unbidden, welled in the corner of Hoshi's eye, but she wiped it away and went along the line, comforting the people and herding them along the beaten path that led to the safety of Helm's Deep. "Come along now," she murmured to the elderly women, and to the children, "Let's go! Who can reach the gates first?" Her false cheer brought weak smiles to their faces and sped their steps.
Within her own chest, however, Hoshi's heart beat wildly. Ridden away with the rest of the men, Malcolm had, and left her alone here. Without a second thought he had gone! What if he were to be hurt again?
What if he were killed?
A choked sigh escaped from her lips, but the long line of people were too loud, chattering in worried tones, for anyone to hear her. She was alone already, she thought, for Malcolm could selflessly help to protect a people who were not his own, and all she could do was worry that she would never get back to her own.
The tears stayed unshed; the thoughts retreated to the darkest corner of her mind; and Hoshi, firm in her purpose to forget entirely her former life, went to find Éowyn at the head of the column.
*****************
They reached Helm's Deep only a little while later, as the sun drew to its zenith. A cry of relief went up from the refugees as they milled through the gates.
Inside the halls were already crowded with people, squatters lined up against the old, weathered stones. Hoshi gazed up at the walls of the fortress, not knowing at all what to make of it. In her time, in her world, people had no longer any need for great strongholds such as this; she marveled at it, and wondered how anything could dare threaten these solid stone walls. She stood on the wall above the gates and looked out over the fortress and the valley. The front wall was twenty feet high, and so thick that four men could walk abreast along the top, sheltered by a parapet over which only a tall man could look. The great stones of the Deeping Wall were set with such skill that no foothold could be found at their joints, and at the top they hung over like a sea-delved calf.
"It is a mighty fortress, is it not?" said Éowyn, startling Hoshi from her reverie. "It is called after Helm, a hero of old wars who made his refuge here. The tall spire is the Hornburg. In the far-off days of the glory of Gondor the sea-kings built here this fastness with the hands of giants."
"It is very impressive," said Hoshi. "I have never seen such a thing before." She said no more and stared out over the ramparts, her face impassive, until Éowyn, with a sympathetic glance, left her alone.
She knew herself to be in a black mood, brought on presently by Malcolm's riding away with the warriors, probably to his death, but really it had taken over long before that. With a sigh she looked at the sky and wondered where Enterprise was now.
:I can help you,: said a tiny voice in the back of her mind, so faint that she thought it to be her own mind until it spoke again. :Hoshi Sato. I can help you.:
She started and cried out, catching the attention of the people below for a moment, but quickly she recovered herself and gazed out at the valley again. "Who are you?" she whispered, remembering Tarquin and his telepathic visitations. Perhaps it was someone who could contact Enterprise for her!
:I am a friend, dear Hoshi. You come from somewhere far from here, do you not?:
"Yes, very far from here," whispered Hoshi. "Earth. A starship brought me here."
:A starship? Like a great boat that flies through the stars rather than the water?:
"Exactly. You can help us return to it? Are you one of Tarquin's people?"
:I do not know of this Tarquin.:
"Some of them are telepaths with very long lives and long range. They can speak to people's minds over huge distances using an amplifier."
:Ah. Yes, you could call me such a one.:
Hoshi's arms trembled; she wanted to smile but did not because she was in full view of the people below. "Can you find Enterprise and contact them for me?"
:I will do as you ask, my dear. Will you allow me into your thoughts, so that I may know better what I am looking for?:
"Will it hurt?"
:You will feel sleepy, dear Hoshi, nothing more, and you will simply drowse for a little while. Sit down and sleep, child.:
A yawn escaped from her lips as she slumped down against the ramparts. The stones were warm against her back, and with a contented sigh she lay down, out of sight of anyone below her. :Simply relax, my dear,: said the voice, deep and powerful and comforting. :I will find your ship for you.: She saw a brief flash behind her eyelids of white light streaked through with grey, and without any further thought drifted off into dreams of Enterprise and home.
Over Helm's Deep the clouds flew by, riding the brisk wind high above the brown valley and the sharp cliffs. The people of Edoras shifted through the halls of the great fortress, quibbling over whose spot was whose. Their voices rose to join the soft cheeping of birds and the rustle of the grasses in the wind, and mixed with the trickling stream through the culvert at the base of the wall.
To the northwest the darkness crept down from Isengard, the Wizard's Vale. The shadow reached far across the Gap of Rohan, casting twilight on all it touched and stifling the rays of the brilliant sun above.
And in Helm's Deep, Hoshi slept on, dreaming in shadow.
******************
They thundered over the hills and rocks, horse and rider equally grim in purpose. Legolas stood at the crest of a hill, sending arrow after arrow into the ranks of the leaping Warg-riders. One, then another, twisted under the shrill whine of his arrow and fell to the ground as their riders screamed their hate out in sharp Orkish curses.
Malcolm's blood pounded in his ears, adrenaline rushing through his arms and legs. He gripped the battered sword loaned from Théoden's armory, and wished desperately that he had a phase pistol. A good wide-range shot could take care of these monsters so much more quickly than all this ridiculous swordplay. Théoden sounded the charge and down they went, and the battle was joined, Warg and man and horse and orc all in the desperate, hopeless chaos of battle.
Yet he was not afraid with naught but steel to defend himself. Aragorn, sword in one hand, plucked a spear from the ground and hurled it at a Warg that was advancing on a trapped Gimli. With a grunt the beast fell, landing right on top of the Warg that already pinned down the Dwarf.
Being careful not to slice Aragorn, Malcolm waved out wildly with his sword, holding on to Hasufel with his knees. But his horseman's seat was better when he could use his hands as well, and so he slipped off the side of the horse when Hasufel reared slightly. Rolling out of the way of Hasufel's hooves, Malcolm struck upwards and right through the skull of the Warg, more out of dumb luck than any skill. The Orc rider growled in fury and scrambled away from the dead beast, drawing a wickedly curved sword from his belt.
The Orc was too slow, though, because by the time he had drawn his sword, Malcolm had already lunged forward and stabbed him through the chest. With an almost comical look the Orc glared down at the sword and then dropped to the ground, dead eyes wide in surprise.
Malcolm slid the sword out and whirled around, looking for any enemies to face. His ears roared and the blood fury poured in a torrent through his mind.
Out of the corner of his eye he saw Aragorn take a flying leap onto the back of a Warg. Hasufel ran towards Malcolm, riderless and wild. Charging forward, Malcolm grabbed the horse's reins and clambered clumsily into the saddle, glancing back and forth as Aragorn struggled with the Orc as the Warg streaked away beneath them.
This time, human speed was not enough. He spurred Hasufel into a gallop and charged after Aragorn, clinging to the reins so hard his knuckles turned white, but all he saw was the flap of a gray-green cloak and a flash of panic on the man's face as he tumbled over the cliff.
"Aragorn!" shouted Malcolm helplessly as Hasufel skidded to a halt at the side of the cliff. He slipped off the horse and gazed down over the cliff, shuddering to see the white rapids below and no sign of either Warg or man.
"Aragorn!" Legolas' voice echoed behind him. Malcolm, suddenly extremely weary, pushed himself up from the ground. He took Hasufel's reins and patted the horse's neck, unable to call out to the searching Elf.
"Aragorn?" said Gimli, running up to Legolas. A choked laughter gurgled from the ground near their feet, and both companions turned to look. Malcolm sighed and began to walk toward them; the Orc burbled with a final laugh.
"Tell me what happened and I will ease your passing," growled the Dwarf, hefting his axe.
"He's...dead!" it chortled wetly, a macabre grin stained with blood crossing its features. "Took a little tumble off the cliff!"
"You lie!" hissed Legolas. Malcolm met his eyes and shook his head. The Elf's mouth opened soundlessly, and he gazed down at the Orc at his feet.
"He did," said Malcolm quietly. "I saw him go over. I couldn't get there fast enough."
Legolas' brows knitted together, and Malcolm realized in his distress he had spoken in English. He repeated it in the Common Speech as the Orc took its last breath. Neither Gimli nor Legolas responded. The Elf bent down and pulled a shining object from the Orc's grimy hand: Aragorn's Elvish pendant, stained with dark Orc blood.
They looked over the side, Malcolm hoping desperately for something, anything, to surface, to give them some hint of Aragorn... alive or dead.
He thought that Enterprise must have looked for them as they looked now for Aragorn—gazing into the water, and finding nothing but swirling ripples.
Théoden padded up to join them, gazing down into the water for a long moment. Malcolm met his eyes and pleaded silently with him; the king's face hardened and he turned away. "Get the wounded on horses," he shouted. With a last stern look at Legolas, Malcolm, and Gimli, he added, "Leave the dead."
Legolas gave him a look of perplexed surprise; the king laid his hand on the Elf's shoulder and said merely, "Come." Then he trudged off down the slope to help his men.
"Théoden treats his dead ill," said Legolas softly once the king was out of hearing range. "It is not proper."
"I think he just wants to get to Helm's Deep quickly," said Malcolm, sighing again. Hasufel whickered and glanced over the edge of the cliff again; idly Malcolm patted the horse's neck.
"Come on, lads," Gimli said, giving them both a light thump on the arm. "Let's go. The dead would not want any more of us to join them. We should not linger. It is past noon already!"
Casting one last look at the raging river below, the three strode away from the cliff and forward to the safety of Helm's Deep, leaving a silent graveyard behind them. The short afternoon shadows loomed over the bodies of the dead as the wind hummed a funeral dirge above; the departing warriors said a quiet word to the souls of their friends and rode on without looking back.
Battle lay ahead, and death lay behind, and still the shadow from the north- west crept onward.
*******************
Again, I am terribly sorry for the long delay between updates, but hopefully it is worth the wait. Suggestions...comments...let me know.
Extremely, extremely sorry for the delay between posts. School decided to get very busy. It actually is still busy but I've had enough of it so I'm ignoring it, yay go me.
And Lord of the Rings won Best Picture, Best Director, everything... SO awesome!
*********************
THE SHADOW RIDERS
Chapter Six: An Unexpected Attack
"Hail, Lord of the Mark!" said Éomer. "The dark night has passed, and day has come again. But the day has brought strange tidings." ~J.R.R. Tolkien, The Lord of the Rings
*********************
"Wargs! We are under attack!"
There were no clouds overhead yet, but a heaviness was in the air; it was hot for the season of the year. The sun was hazy, and behind it, following it slowly up the sky, there was a growing darkness, as of a great storm moving out of the East. And away in the North-west there seemed to be another darkness brooding about the feet of the Misty Mountains, a shadow that crept down slowly from the Wizard's Vale.
The long, ragtag line of refugees cast their eyes to the shadow and shivered despite the warm wind, the darkness doing nothing to improve their despairing spirits. They had walked for two days now and Helm's Deep drew near. So close it was, and yet so far away.
Hoshi tramped along beside Éowyn, eyes seeing none of the beauty of the world around her, when the call echoed along the line of men, women, and horses. "Wargs?" she said, mystified. Éowyn's eyes flashed.
The men sprang into action at once, reaching for sword and shield, and hastily tightening the saddle-girths around the proud warhorses. "Riders to the head of the column!" bellowed Théoden, his voice thundering above the pounding hooves of the riders' horses.
With one swift, fluid movement, Éowyn made for her sword, half-hidden beneath her mare's saddle blanket. She threw a defiant glance at Hoshi, eyes blazing with battle fury as she drew the sword from the scabbard. "Éowyn, no," said Hoshi softly.
"She is right," said Théoden, riding past. "You must lead the people to Helm's Deep, and make haste!" He reined in his stallion and glared down at his niece.
"I can fight!" cried Éowyn, her voice choked with desperation.
"No," said Théoden. "You must do this." For a moment blue met blue, the one clear and young, the other pale and wise, and Hoshi feared that Éowyn would not yield to her uncle and king.
But she reluctantly sighed and turned away from her uncle. "Make for the lower ground! Stay together!" she cried and strode off to lead the long line away from danger.
Théoden nodded once to Hoshi, face set in grim lines, and shouted to the warriors, "Follow me!" Away the riders pounded and the women and child cried out for their husbands and fathers, fearful that they should never see them again.
Hoshi's eyes fixed on one dark head, hair shorter than all the rest, clutching Aragorn around the waist as they rode away over the grassy hills. So he was going. She had hoped he would have more sense than that.
A tear, unbidden, welled in the corner of Hoshi's eye, but she wiped it away and went along the line, comforting the people and herding them along the beaten path that led to the safety of Helm's Deep. "Come along now," she murmured to the elderly women, and to the children, "Let's go! Who can reach the gates first?" Her false cheer brought weak smiles to their faces and sped their steps.
Within her own chest, however, Hoshi's heart beat wildly. Ridden away with the rest of the men, Malcolm had, and left her alone here. Without a second thought he had gone! What if he were to be hurt again?
What if he were killed?
A choked sigh escaped from her lips, but the long line of people were too loud, chattering in worried tones, for anyone to hear her. She was alone already, she thought, for Malcolm could selflessly help to protect a people who were not his own, and all she could do was worry that she would never get back to her own.
The tears stayed unshed; the thoughts retreated to the darkest corner of her mind; and Hoshi, firm in her purpose to forget entirely her former life, went to find Éowyn at the head of the column.
*****************
They reached Helm's Deep only a little while later, as the sun drew to its zenith. A cry of relief went up from the refugees as they milled through the gates.
Inside the halls were already crowded with people, squatters lined up against the old, weathered stones. Hoshi gazed up at the walls of the fortress, not knowing at all what to make of it. In her time, in her world, people had no longer any need for great strongholds such as this; she marveled at it, and wondered how anything could dare threaten these solid stone walls. She stood on the wall above the gates and looked out over the fortress and the valley. The front wall was twenty feet high, and so thick that four men could walk abreast along the top, sheltered by a parapet over which only a tall man could look. The great stones of the Deeping Wall were set with such skill that no foothold could be found at their joints, and at the top they hung over like a sea-delved calf.
"It is a mighty fortress, is it not?" said Éowyn, startling Hoshi from her reverie. "It is called after Helm, a hero of old wars who made his refuge here. The tall spire is the Hornburg. In the far-off days of the glory of Gondor the sea-kings built here this fastness with the hands of giants."
"It is very impressive," said Hoshi. "I have never seen such a thing before." She said no more and stared out over the ramparts, her face impassive, until Éowyn, with a sympathetic glance, left her alone.
She knew herself to be in a black mood, brought on presently by Malcolm's riding away with the warriors, probably to his death, but really it had taken over long before that. With a sigh she looked at the sky and wondered where Enterprise was now.
:I can help you,: said a tiny voice in the back of her mind, so faint that she thought it to be her own mind until it spoke again. :Hoshi Sato. I can help you.:
She started and cried out, catching the attention of the people below for a moment, but quickly she recovered herself and gazed out at the valley again. "Who are you?" she whispered, remembering Tarquin and his telepathic visitations. Perhaps it was someone who could contact Enterprise for her!
:I am a friend, dear Hoshi. You come from somewhere far from here, do you not?:
"Yes, very far from here," whispered Hoshi. "Earth. A starship brought me here."
:A starship? Like a great boat that flies through the stars rather than the water?:
"Exactly. You can help us return to it? Are you one of Tarquin's people?"
:I do not know of this Tarquin.:
"Some of them are telepaths with very long lives and long range. They can speak to people's minds over huge distances using an amplifier."
:Ah. Yes, you could call me such a one.:
Hoshi's arms trembled; she wanted to smile but did not because she was in full view of the people below. "Can you find Enterprise and contact them for me?"
:I will do as you ask, my dear. Will you allow me into your thoughts, so that I may know better what I am looking for?:
"Will it hurt?"
:You will feel sleepy, dear Hoshi, nothing more, and you will simply drowse for a little while. Sit down and sleep, child.:
A yawn escaped from her lips as she slumped down against the ramparts. The stones were warm against her back, and with a contented sigh she lay down, out of sight of anyone below her. :Simply relax, my dear,: said the voice, deep and powerful and comforting. :I will find your ship for you.: She saw a brief flash behind her eyelids of white light streaked through with grey, and without any further thought drifted off into dreams of Enterprise and home.
Over Helm's Deep the clouds flew by, riding the brisk wind high above the brown valley and the sharp cliffs. The people of Edoras shifted through the halls of the great fortress, quibbling over whose spot was whose. Their voices rose to join the soft cheeping of birds and the rustle of the grasses in the wind, and mixed with the trickling stream through the culvert at the base of the wall.
To the northwest the darkness crept down from Isengard, the Wizard's Vale. The shadow reached far across the Gap of Rohan, casting twilight on all it touched and stifling the rays of the brilliant sun above.
And in Helm's Deep, Hoshi slept on, dreaming in shadow.
******************
They thundered over the hills and rocks, horse and rider equally grim in purpose. Legolas stood at the crest of a hill, sending arrow after arrow into the ranks of the leaping Warg-riders. One, then another, twisted under the shrill whine of his arrow and fell to the ground as their riders screamed their hate out in sharp Orkish curses.
Malcolm's blood pounded in his ears, adrenaline rushing through his arms and legs. He gripped the battered sword loaned from Théoden's armory, and wished desperately that he had a phase pistol. A good wide-range shot could take care of these monsters so much more quickly than all this ridiculous swordplay. Théoden sounded the charge and down they went, and the battle was joined, Warg and man and horse and orc all in the desperate, hopeless chaos of battle.
Yet he was not afraid with naught but steel to defend himself. Aragorn, sword in one hand, plucked a spear from the ground and hurled it at a Warg that was advancing on a trapped Gimli. With a grunt the beast fell, landing right on top of the Warg that already pinned down the Dwarf.
Being careful not to slice Aragorn, Malcolm waved out wildly with his sword, holding on to Hasufel with his knees. But his horseman's seat was better when he could use his hands as well, and so he slipped off the side of the horse when Hasufel reared slightly. Rolling out of the way of Hasufel's hooves, Malcolm struck upwards and right through the skull of the Warg, more out of dumb luck than any skill. The Orc rider growled in fury and scrambled away from the dead beast, drawing a wickedly curved sword from his belt.
The Orc was too slow, though, because by the time he had drawn his sword, Malcolm had already lunged forward and stabbed him through the chest. With an almost comical look the Orc glared down at the sword and then dropped to the ground, dead eyes wide in surprise.
Malcolm slid the sword out and whirled around, looking for any enemies to face. His ears roared and the blood fury poured in a torrent through his mind.
Out of the corner of his eye he saw Aragorn take a flying leap onto the back of a Warg. Hasufel ran towards Malcolm, riderless and wild. Charging forward, Malcolm grabbed the horse's reins and clambered clumsily into the saddle, glancing back and forth as Aragorn struggled with the Orc as the Warg streaked away beneath them.
This time, human speed was not enough. He spurred Hasufel into a gallop and charged after Aragorn, clinging to the reins so hard his knuckles turned white, but all he saw was the flap of a gray-green cloak and a flash of panic on the man's face as he tumbled over the cliff.
"Aragorn!" shouted Malcolm helplessly as Hasufel skidded to a halt at the side of the cliff. He slipped off the horse and gazed down over the cliff, shuddering to see the white rapids below and no sign of either Warg or man.
"Aragorn!" Legolas' voice echoed behind him. Malcolm, suddenly extremely weary, pushed himself up from the ground. He took Hasufel's reins and patted the horse's neck, unable to call out to the searching Elf.
"Aragorn?" said Gimli, running up to Legolas. A choked laughter gurgled from the ground near their feet, and both companions turned to look. Malcolm sighed and began to walk toward them; the Orc burbled with a final laugh.
"Tell me what happened and I will ease your passing," growled the Dwarf, hefting his axe.
"He's...dead!" it chortled wetly, a macabre grin stained with blood crossing its features. "Took a little tumble off the cliff!"
"You lie!" hissed Legolas. Malcolm met his eyes and shook his head. The Elf's mouth opened soundlessly, and he gazed down at the Orc at his feet.
"He did," said Malcolm quietly. "I saw him go over. I couldn't get there fast enough."
Legolas' brows knitted together, and Malcolm realized in his distress he had spoken in English. He repeated it in the Common Speech as the Orc took its last breath. Neither Gimli nor Legolas responded. The Elf bent down and pulled a shining object from the Orc's grimy hand: Aragorn's Elvish pendant, stained with dark Orc blood.
They looked over the side, Malcolm hoping desperately for something, anything, to surface, to give them some hint of Aragorn... alive or dead.
He thought that Enterprise must have looked for them as they looked now for Aragorn—gazing into the water, and finding nothing but swirling ripples.
Théoden padded up to join them, gazing down into the water for a long moment. Malcolm met his eyes and pleaded silently with him; the king's face hardened and he turned away. "Get the wounded on horses," he shouted. With a last stern look at Legolas, Malcolm, and Gimli, he added, "Leave the dead."
Legolas gave him a look of perplexed surprise; the king laid his hand on the Elf's shoulder and said merely, "Come." Then he trudged off down the slope to help his men.
"Théoden treats his dead ill," said Legolas softly once the king was out of hearing range. "It is not proper."
"I think he just wants to get to Helm's Deep quickly," said Malcolm, sighing again. Hasufel whickered and glanced over the edge of the cliff again; idly Malcolm patted the horse's neck.
"Come on, lads," Gimli said, giving them both a light thump on the arm. "Let's go. The dead would not want any more of us to join them. We should not linger. It is past noon already!"
Casting one last look at the raging river below, the three strode away from the cliff and forward to the safety of Helm's Deep, leaving a silent graveyard behind them. The short afternoon shadows loomed over the bodies of the dead as the wind hummed a funeral dirge above; the departing warriors said a quiet word to the souls of their friends and rode on without looking back.
Battle lay ahead, and death lay behind, and still the shadow from the north- west crept onward.
*******************
Again, I am terribly sorry for the long delay between updates, but hopefully it is worth the wait. Suggestions...comments...let me know.