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.
Author's Note: To answer Jen 717's question, yes, some of these paragraphs are straight from the book. I have been including them (throughout the whole story, I might add) for a few different reasons: one, it is a crossover, and thus I am putting the characters from Star Trek directly into Tolkien's story, hence his wording; two, he is a wonderful author, so I think it enriches the story to use the original author's wording. It's a bit of homage. After all, I'm only adding facets to someone else's work... the story is not mine.
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THE SHADOW RIDERS
Chapter Twelve: The Palantir
"Strange powers have our enemies, and strange weaknesses!" said Théoden. "But it has long been said: oft evil will shall evil mar."
J.R.R. Tolkien, The Lord of the Rings
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Malcolm lay awake that night, staring at the ceiling. Men lay all around him, snoring deeply, caught fast in the depths of sleep. Dark dreams had come and gone in their minds, and most were in the deep, visionless sleep of the completely exhausted. Scenes of the battle replayed themselves in his mind; an imagined tang of blood even reached his nostrils, and he turned onto his side, shuddering. He may have been a warrior in both his past lives, but never had he relished the senseless slaughter and violence of battle.
He heard the boards creak, and peered into the darkness. Probably just someone getting up to relieve himself... but there were whispers then. "What are you doing?" hissed a low voice. "Pippin!"
A shadowy figure crept across the floor; lit by the moonlight, Malcolm recognized the young hobbit. What was the fool doing? Pippin knelt before Gandalf and quickly swapped the cloth-wrapped palantir for a heavy water jug sitting near the door. "I just want to look at it," he whispered, and Malcolm immediately sprang from his bed.
"You little fool, put it down!" he cried, but he was too late; Pippin's eyes widened in horror and his mouth opened in a silent scream. The stone erupted in ghostly flames and the hobbit writhed in agony, trying to shake loose his hands. Malcolm swept him up into his arms just as Aragorn and Legolas burst into the room. Aragorn met Malcolm's eyes for a split second before he snatched the palantir from Pippin's hands and began to convulse himself before it dropped from his grip and rolled away into the corner. Gandalf leapt past them and threw a blanket over it, then turned around, livid with anger.
The hobbit was a dead weight in Malcolm's arms; carefully, he laid the limp Pippin onto a pallet on the floor. The men in the room murmured softly, woken from their heavy slumber, as Merry rushed to his friend's side.
"Fool of a Took!" roared Gandalf, but the hobbit stared into space, completely unresponsive. Malcolm drew aside, pulling Merry with him, and the older wizard dropped to his knees before the hobbit. He took Pippin's hand and bent over his face, listening for his breath; then he laid his hands on his brow. The hobbit shuddered and finally blinked.
"Look at me," said Gandalf, and it was not a voice that Pippin could disobey.
"Gandalf, forgive me!" he said, voice high and frightened. He trembled, and Malcolm gripped Merry tightly as the other hobbit tried to go to his friend once more.
"Look at me," repeated Gandalf. "What did you see, and what did you say?"
Pippin shut his eyes and shivered, but said nothing for a moment. "A tree," he whispered finally. "A white tree, in a courtyard of stone; it was dead, Gandalf. I saw a dark sky, and tall battlements, and tiny stars. It seemed very far away and long ago, yet hard and clear. The city was burning."
"Minas Tirith? Is that what you saw?"
"I saw---I saw---I saw Him!" cried Pippin. "I could hear his voice in my head."
A sick dread settled in the pit of Malcolm's stomach.
"And what did you tell him?" urged Gandalf.
"He asked my name... I did not answer," said Pippin. "He hurt me..."
"What did you tell him about Frodo and the Ring?" cried Gandalf, gripping the hobbit's shoulders tightly.
Pippin stared up at him, looking baffled. "Nothing," he said softly. "I could not speak, Gandalf!" Gandalf let him go and sank back on his heels; Merry finally managed to wriggle out of Malcolm's grasp and went quickly to his friend, murmuring in concern under his breath. Malcolm followed and laid a hand on Pippin's forehead, and almost at once the little hobbit's eyes drooped.
"Put him to bed," said Malcolm to Merry, and the hobbit nodded, gripping his friend's hand tightly. "If he wakes with nightmares, find me or Gandalf." The old wizard took the palantir in his hands and went out into the night. The men began to settle down again, and Merry drew a blanket over the already-sleeping Pippin and lay next to him with a sigh. Gimli, who had also woken from his slumber, nodded to them and sat with the hobbits, talking softly to Merry.
Legolas met his eyes, and between them they lifted the still-shaky Aragorn; then they followed Gandalf outside. "Are you all right, Aragorn?" asked the old wizard as they came up to him.
"I will be fine in a moment," said Aragorn as he leaned against the battlements, breathing in the fresh night air. "I saw in the stone Sauron, and though I do not know if he knew me, still he lashed out at me for the instant in which I held it."
"I must ask you to take the stone, Aragorn," said Gandalf. "There is one who may claim it by right, for this assuredly is the palantir of Orthanc from the treasury of Elendil, set here by the Kings of Gondor."
Aragorn's jaw worked. "Pippin must not know where it is bestowed," he said.
"That is no answer," replied Malcolm softly. "Are you Elendil's heir or not, Aragorn?"
The man held the younger wizard in his gaze for a long moment, and then reached for the covered bundle in Gandalf's hands. Gandalf bowed as he presented it. "Receive it, lord," he said, "in earnest of other things that shall be given back. If I may counsel you in the use of your own, do not use it---yet! Be wary!"
"When have I been hasty or unwary?" said Aragorn, looking down at the bundle in his hands. "At last we know the link between Isengard and Mordor, and how it worked. Much is explained."
"Much indeed," said Gandalf. He too stared at the cloth-wrapped bundle, eyes deep and brooding. "I had considered whether to probe the stone myself to find its uses. Had I done so, I should have been revealed to him myself. I am not ready for such a trial, if indeed I shall ever be so. But even if I found the power to withdraw myself, it would be disastrous for him to see me, yet—until the hour comes when secrecy will avail no longer."
"That hour is now come," said Aragorn, gripping the palantir tightly with white-knuckled hands.
"Not yet," said Malcolm. "Sauron will be looking for a hobbit. He will be drawn here. We must not draw his attention too swiftly, not until we are ready for him." Out of the corner of his eye he saw Aragorn's yawn and a slight sway in the man's shoulders.
Gandalf saw it as well, and said quietly, "We have time enough tonight. Go to sleep, Aragorn. We will talk and decide what must be done and tell you our ideas in the morning."
For a moment, Malcolm thought the weary Ranger would argue, but he slumped and let Legolas lead him inside. In darkness the two wizards sat, silent as stones under the cloud-streaked starlight. At long length Gandalf sighed, a drawn-out, tired breath that seemed most out of character. Malcolm met his eyes and thought how very tired the old wizard looked.
"We will ride for Minas Tirith on the morrow," said Gandalf quietly. "We must get Pippin away from this place and draw the Enemy's eye from this place."
"He already watches Minas Tirith," said Malcolm.
"For more reasons than you know," said Gandalf. "Denethor, I think, knows more than he is telling us. The Eye is far too mindful of Minas Tirith, for all that it is the last great country of Man in Middle-Earth."
"Not the last," said Malcolm vehemently. "I shall see to it that the future I saw shall not come to pass."
"And perhaps it will in any case," said Gandalf kindly, putting a hand on the younger wizard's shoulder. "It may be that we save Middle-earth now only for it to fall later. But we must, at some point, know when our task is done and when it must be left to someone else."
"That is a very hard lesson to learn, Mithrandir," whispered Malcolm. Such had been some problems in his old life, on Enterprise. What future did the Suliban hope to arrange? What future for Daniels, and for all the millions and millions of people who came between their time and that faraway future to which they were nothing more than a distant past?
"Time drifts onward, my young friend," said Gandalf, looking up at the stars overhead. "We are given time on this earth to do what we must. Each living thing has a purpose, even if it is no more or less noble than the brewing of ales and the planting of gardens. A simple person may do a great thing, and a great person may do a simple thing, and sometimes it is called upon us to do things which may seem beyond our reach." He smiled gently, meeting Malcolm's eyes. "But we are not called to do everything. No one could do that. There is a time for us to do our part, and there is a time for us to pass into the hollows of memory as well. It is enough to have lived."
Malcolm broke their shared gaze and stared up at the stars above, wishing that he were once more hurtling through them with warp engines pushing him far faster than the speed of light, the streaks of sidereal color bright in the windows of Enterprise. Elowë wished for the foam-capped waves crashing on the white shores, dappled with golden light from the sun rising over the eastern horizon, the water blue-green and lovely as far as the eye could see. And they understood a little more of why they were alike, why they were now one where once had been two, for both sought the lonely places where only a true explorer's eyes could appreciate the beauty in their surroundings.
He met Gandalf's eyes once more, and felt a silent understanding in their blue depths.
"Shall I come with you to Minas Tirith?" he asked quietly.
"I will need your help," said Gandalf. "The city, I fear, will be in sorry state, for rumors of Denethor's madness have reached my ears. They will need brave captains to lead them. But, of course, if you would rather stay with the Rohan, they will need aid as well."
"Aragorn will be able to lead them well enough," said Malcolm. "Better than I could, at least, for Théoden does not understand me or like me. He will not trust to my counsel."
"He is a kindly old man," said Gandalf, "but he does not trust what he does not understand, and he cannot think how the two of you could have come under his roof. You are very strange to him, no matter what you may say otherwise. Éowyn and Éomer are less cynical and both possess their uncle's kind heart, but in addition both are sympathetic to the misfortune of others. They saw you nearly dead and witnessed Hoshi's struggle to learn their ways. They could not help but feel that you needed their pity."
"You see much, "lorin," said Malcolm. "Still, I think I shall ride with you to Minas Tirith and when I can, I shall set out for Mordor."
"For Hoshi?"
"I cannot leave her at the mercy of the Enemy," he whispered. "She is under his spell. And I fear what he needs from her mind. As the Ents said, Saruman has a mind of metal. So does Sauron, else why put his power into a thing made of gold? Our ship is metal, worked in possibilities he has never dreamed of. I dare not think what he could do with such ideas."
"I do not know what your ship can do, but I feel the same threat. Something deeper lies at work here." Gandalf turned toward the east, where a faint tinge of pink showed around the ever-present clouds. "The night has passed, tórdilthen, and the morn approaches. Ready yourself. We leave before noon."
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Did I say I hoped this chapter would get up soon? I deeply apologize for the long wait. I don't have my own computer hooked up to the Internet right now, so I have to wait for time to use my dad's. And may I say, I do NOT like this new QuickEdit thing. Why don't asterisks show up?
Author's Note: To answer Jen 717's question, yes, some of these paragraphs are straight from the book. I have been including them (throughout the whole story, I might add) for a few different reasons: one, it is a crossover, and thus I am putting the characters from Star Trek directly into Tolkien's story, hence his wording; two, he is a wonderful author, so I think it enriches the story to use the original author's wording. It's a bit of homage. After all, I'm only adding facets to someone else's work... the story is not mine.
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THE SHADOW RIDERS
Chapter Twelve: The Palantir
"Strange powers have our enemies, and strange weaknesses!" said Théoden. "But it has long been said: oft evil will shall evil mar."
J.R.R. Tolkien, The Lord of the Rings
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Malcolm lay awake that night, staring at the ceiling. Men lay all around him, snoring deeply, caught fast in the depths of sleep. Dark dreams had come and gone in their minds, and most were in the deep, visionless sleep of the completely exhausted. Scenes of the battle replayed themselves in his mind; an imagined tang of blood even reached his nostrils, and he turned onto his side, shuddering. He may have been a warrior in both his past lives, but never had he relished the senseless slaughter and violence of battle.
He heard the boards creak, and peered into the darkness. Probably just someone getting up to relieve himself... but there were whispers then. "What are you doing?" hissed a low voice. "Pippin!"
A shadowy figure crept across the floor; lit by the moonlight, Malcolm recognized the young hobbit. What was the fool doing? Pippin knelt before Gandalf and quickly swapped the cloth-wrapped palantir for a heavy water jug sitting near the door. "I just want to look at it," he whispered, and Malcolm immediately sprang from his bed.
"You little fool, put it down!" he cried, but he was too late; Pippin's eyes widened in horror and his mouth opened in a silent scream. The stone erupted in ghostly flames and the hobbit writhed in agony, trying to shake loose his hands. Malcolm swept him up into his arms just as Aragorn and Legolas burst into the room. Aragorn met Malcolm's eyes for a split second before he snatched the palantir from Pippin's hands and began to convulse himself before it dropped from his grip and rolled away into the corner. Gandalf leapt past them and threw a blanket over it, then turned around, livid with anger.
The hobbit was a dead weight in Malcolm's arms; carefully, he laid the limp Pippin onto a pallet on the floor. The men in the room murmured softly, woken from their heavy slumber, as Merry rushed to his friend's side.
"Fool of a Took!" roared Gandalf, but the hobbit stared into space, completely unresponsive. Malcolm drew aside, pulling Merry with him, and the older wizard dropped to his knees before the hobbit. He took Pippin's hand and bent over his face, listening for his breath; then he laid his hands on his brow. The hobbit shuddered and finally blinked.
"Look at me," said Gandalf, and it was not a voice that Pippin could disobey.
"Gandalf, forgive me!" he said, voice high and frightened. He trembled, and Malcolm gripped Merry tightly as the other hobbit tried to go to his friend once more.
"Look at me," repeated Gandalf. "What did you see, and what did you say?"
Pippin shut his eyes and shivered, but said nothing for a moment. "A tree," he whispered finally. "A white tree, in a courtyard of stone; it was dead, Gandalf. I saw a dark sky, and tall battlements, and tiny stars. It seemed very far away and long ago, yet hard and clear. The city was burning."
"Minas Tirith? Is that what you saw?"
"I saw---I saw---I saw Him!" cried Pippin. "I could hear his voice in my head."
A sick dread settled in the pit of Malcolm's stomach.
"And what did you tell him?" urged Gandalf.
"He asked my name... I did not answer," said Pippin. "He hurt me..."
"What did you tell him about Frodo and the Ring?" cried Gandalf, gripping the hobbit's shoulders tightly.
Pippin stared up at him, looking baffled. "Nothing," he said softly. "I could not speak, Gandalf!" Gandalf let him go and sank back on his heels; Merry finally managed to wriggle out of Malcolm's grasp and went quickly to his friend, murmuring in concern under his breath. Malcolm followed and laid a hand on Pippin's forehead, and almost at once the little hobbit's eyes drooped.
"Put him to bed," said Malcolm to Merry, and the hobbit nodded, gripping his friend's hand tightly. "If he wakes with nightmares, find me or Gandalf." The old wizard took the palantir in his hands and went out into the night. The men began to settle down again, and Merry drew a blanket over the already-sleeping Pippin and lay next to him with a sigh. Gimli, who had also woken from his slumber, nodded to them and sat with the hobbits, talking softly to Merry.
Legolas met his eyes, and between them they lifted the still-shaky Aragorn; then they followed Gandalf outside. "Are you all right, Aragorn?" asked the old wizard as they came up to him.
"I will be fine in a moment," said Aragorn as he leaned against the battlements, breathing in the fresh night air. "I saw in the stone Sauron, and though I do not know if he knew me, still he lashed out at me for the instant in which I held it."
"I must ask you to take the stone, Aragorn," said Gandalf. "There is one who may claim it by right, for this assuredly is the palantir of Orthanc from the treasury of Elendil, set here by the Kings of Gondor."
Aragorn's jaw worked. "Pippin must not know where it is bestowed," he said.
"That is no answer," replied Malcolm softly. "Are you Elendil's heir or not, Aragorn?"
The man held the younger wizard in his gaze for a long moment, and then reached for the covered bundle in Gandalf's hands. Gandalf bowed as he presented it. "Receive it, lord," he said, "in earnest of other things that shall be given back. If I may counsel you in the use of your own, do not use it---yet! Be wary!"
"When have I been hasty or unwary?" said Aragorn, looking down at the bundle in his hands. "At last we know the link between Isengard and Mordor, and how it worked. Much is explained."
"Much indeed," said Gandalf. He too stared at the cloth-wrapped bundle, eyes deep and brooding. "I had considered whether to probe the stone myself to find its uses. Had I done so, I should have been revealed to him myself. I am not ready for such a trial, if indeed I shall ever be so. But even if I found the power to withdraw myself, it would be disastrous for him to see me, yet—until the hour comes when secrecy will avail no longer."
"That hour is now come," said Aragorn, gripping the palantir tightly with white-knuckled hands.
"Not yet," said Malcolm. "Sauron will be looking for a hobbit. He will be drawn here. We must not draw his attention too swiftly, not until we are ready for him." Out of the corner of his eye he saw Aragorn's yawn and a slight sway in the man's shoulders.
Gandalf saw it as well, and said quietly, "We have time enough tonight. Go to sleep, Aragorn. We will talk and decide what must be done and tell you our ideas in the morning."
For a moment, Malcolm thought the weary Ranger would argue, but he slumped and let Legolas lead him inside. In darkness the two wizards sat, silent as stones under the cloud-streaked starlight. At long length Gandalf sighed, a drawn-out, tired breath that seemed most out of character. Malcolm met his eyes and thought how very tired the old wizard looked.
"We will ride for Minas Tirith on the morrow," said Gandalf quietly. "We must get Pippin away from this place and draw the Enemy's eye from this place."
"He already watches Minas Tirith," said Malcolm.
"For more reasons than you know," said Gandalf. "Denethor, I think, knows more than he is telling us. The Eye is far too mindful of Minas Tirith, for all that it is the last great country of Man in Middle-Earth."
"Not the last," said Malcolm vehemently. "I shall see to it that the future I saw shall not come to pass."
"And perhaps it will in any case," said Gandalf kindly, putting a hand on the younger wizard's shoulder. "It may be that we save Middle-earth now only for it to fall later. But we must, at some point, know when our task is done and when it must be left to someone else."
"That is a very hard lesson to learn, Mithrandir," whispered Malcolm. Such had been some problems in his old life, on Enterprise. What future did the Suliban hope to arrange? What future for Daniels, and for all the millions and millions of people who came between their time and that faraway future to which they were nothing more than a distant past?
"Time drifts onward, my young friend," said Gandalf, looking up at the stars overhead. "We are given time on this earth to do what we must. Each living thing has a purpose, even if it is no more or less noble than the brewing of ales and the planting of gardens. A simple person may do a great thing, and a great person may do a simple thing, and sometimes it is called upon us to do things which may seem beyond our reach." He smiled gently, meeting Malcolm's eyes. "But we are not called to do everything. No one could do that. There is a time for us to do our part, and there is a time for us to pass into the hollows of memory as well. It is enough to have lived."
Malcolm broke their shared gaze and stared up at the stars above, wishing that he were once more hurtling through them with warp engines pushing him far faster than the speed of light, the streaks of sidereal color bright in the windows of Enterprise. Elowë wished for the foam-capped waves crashing on the white shores, dappled with golden light from the sun rising over the eastern horizon, the water blue-green and lovely as far as the eye could see. And they understood a little more of why they were alike, why they were now one where once had been two, for both sought the lonely places where only a true explorer's eyes could appreciate the beauty in their surroundings.
He met Gandalf's eyes once more, and felt a silent understanding in their blue depths.
"Shall I come with you to Minas Tirith?" he asked quietly.
"I will need your help," said Gandalf. "The city, I fear, will be in sorry state, for rumors of Denethor's madness have reached my ears. They will need brave captains to lead them. But, of course, if you would rather stay with the Rohan, they will need aid as well."
"Aragorn will be able to lead them well enough," said Malcolm. "Better than I could, at least, for Théoden does not understand me or like me. He will not trust to my counsel."
"He is a kindly old man," said Gandalf, "but he does not trust what he does not understand, and he cannot think how the two of you could have come under his roof. You are very strange to him, no matter what you may say otherwise. Éowyn and Éomer are less cynical and both possess their uncle's kind heart, but in addition both are sympathetic to the misfortune of others. They saw you nearly dead and witnessed Hoshi's struggle to learn their ways. They could not help but feel that you needed their pity."
"You see much, "lorin," said Malcolm. "Still, I think I shall ride with you to Minas Tirith and when I can, I shall set out for Mordor."
"For Hoshi?"
"I cannot leave her at the mercy of the Enemy," he whispered. "She is under his spell. And I fear what he needs from her mind. As the Ents said, Saruman has a mind of metal. So does Sauron, else why put his power into a thing made of gold? Our ship is metal, worked in possibilities he has never dreamed of. I dare not think what he could do with such ideas."
"I do not know what your ship can do, but I feel the same threat. Something deeper lies at work here." Gandalf turned toward the east, where a faint tinge of pink showed around the ever-present clouds. "The night has passed, tórdilthen, and the morn approaches. Ready yourself. We leave before noon."
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Did I say I hoped this chapter would get up soon? I deeply apologize for the long wait. I don't have my own computer hooked up to the Internet right now, so I have to wait for time to use my dad's. And may I say, I do NOT like this new QuickEdit thing. Why don't asterisks show up?