**Jabberwocky**
For Aragorn and his men, time and the journey wore on. On the fourth day from the crossroads, the sixth from Minas Tirith, they came to the end of the living lands. Before them was the desolate wasteland that lay before the gates to the Pass of Cirith Gorgor. They could see the marshes and desert that stretched north and west to Emyn Muil. So bleak was the sight before them that some of the host were unmanned and they could neither walk nor ride further.
When Aragorn saw them there was pity in his eyes rather than anger. He knew that these were young men who grew up far from the borders of the dark land of Mordor. For them this land was but an imagined evil from their childhood stories; unseen and unreal. And now they walked in a hideous dream as these stories were brought to gruesome life. They did not understand this war or why fate should bring them to this dreary place.
"Go!" Aragorn said. "But keep what honor you may and do not run. And there is a task you may attempt so you are not wholly shamed. Journey south-west to Cair Andros, and if it is still held by enemies, retake it if you can; and hold it to the last defense of Gondor and Rohan."
Then some being shamed by his kindness found their courage and remained. But others took new hope seeing a valiant task within their measure that they could turn to and departed. And so, since many men had been left at the crossroads already, Aragorn was left with only six thousands in his army to lead against the black gate and the might of Mordor.
That night when they made camp no one felt relaxed enough to sleep well. Haldir, who normally wasn't bothered by anything they encountered, was pacing around the camp like a prowling wolf. He could not decide if he was nervous or angry.
"Sit down lad," Gimli said. "You're making me dizzy with all that pacing."
Haldir sighed and sat by the fire but remained lost in thought.
"What is it that troubles you?" Legolas asked.
"Our shadows have departed," Haldir said as he nodded his head toward the sky. "I don't like it."
"They have but watched," Elrohir said. "We are closer now; perhaps they have other creatures watching."
"No," Haldir said. "They headed west."
Elladan looked up from the fire and could see the worry on Haldir's face. "The city is well guarded," he said. "She will be safe."
Haldir looked at Elladan and his expressions softened. "I hope that you are right," he said. "But with Miranda you never know what to expect."
Gimli chuckled, "The Elf has a gift for understatement."
They all laughed and Aragorn walked over to see what they were talking about. "What's the joke?" he asked.
"Haldir says that Miranda is unpredictable," Gimli said.
Aragorn smiled, "I have observed it."
Elrohir raised a hand to silence the mirth and change the subject, "The Nazgul have headed west."
Aragorn's expression grew serious again, "More than an hour ago I marked it. The enemy is at work, but I cannot guess his plan."
Gandalf stepped into the firelight and said, "Keep your minds on the task at hand."
Aragorn looked at Gandalf, but could not read his expression. The old wizard was both wise and mysterious. He would not reveal anything unless he wanted to.
"I suggest you all get some rest," Gandalf added and then walked away.
Gimli frowned. "Wizards!"
Aragorn said nothing in answer to that, he just sighed and said, "Goodnight."
"Quel esta," Legolas said, meaning rest well.
Everyone went to bed, but Haldir could not sleep. He had a nagging suspicion that Miranda was in danger and he just couldn't shake it.
*****
Miranda kept to her room all that day resting and preparing. That afternoon, Izabel had a tub and hot water brought in so she could bathe. Miranda bathed, dressed and braided her hair. She carefully concealed her weapons, putting her dagger inside her boot using a sheath she had made from a piece of leather. Her sword was harder to hide, but she managed to strap it to her back under her coat. With her cloak on it was well hidden. She'd already prepared for the journey and had food packed in a small pouch that she threw over her shoulder. She knew it was already dark outside and Izabel would soon bring her dinner. Miranda didn't want to have to say goodbye, or explain what she was doing. She went to the garden without speaking to a soul.
When Izabel returned with the evening meal, Miranda was no longer in her room. Izabel could see that she had taken her weapons and she panicked. She ran to find Lord Faramir and confess about her part in the escape.
*****
Faramir was sitting in the hall eating the evening meal with Ẻowyn when a guard came to speak to him.
"Three Nazgul are flying low over the city," he said quietly. "They have not attacked, but they are searching the streets."
Faramir's expression grew serious and he gave a nod. "Wait for me in the hallway, I'll be right there."
Ẻowyn could see his concern and spoke up, "Go see to your office, Lord Steward," she said. "I will be here when you return."
Faramir gave her a smile and reached out for her hand. "This may take a while; I'll see you in the morning." Then, giving her hand a tender squeeze he stood and left. He motioned to two soldiers who were seated by the door and they followed.
"What is your wish my lord," the guard in the hallway asked when Faramir and the soldiers joined him.
"Just come with me," he said coldly. Three Nazgul terrorizing his city was not the story he had been given. Miranda made a mistake, and he did not want to be responsible for her death.
It was then that Izabel found Faramir coming down the hall with three guards, and he was obviously upset.
"Where is your lady?" Faramir asked.
"I do not know, lord," Izabel said anxiously. "She has gone."
Faramir scowled, and told Izabel to remain inside. He led his men to the garden, but it was too late. At the far end of the garden they saw the black winged shape of the Nazgul on its flying steed swoop down and pluck a small figure from the ground. Two others flew on either side to protect him and his prisoner. They had been silent, making no other aggressive moves, and now that they had their prize, they turned east toward Mordor.
Faramir cursed and sent his men back to their duties. "We will not see them again tonight," he said angrily. "They already have what they came for."
*****
Miranda stepped out onto the grass and looked up at the stars. It was a beautiful night and the moon was rising. She smiled at the soothing silver light, but then a great black shadow flew across the moon and she stopped dead. The memories of her dream came flooding back and she felt sick to her stomach.
"This was a bad idea," she whispered to herself, but continued her march out into the garden.
She watched the Wraith as he circled the city, and then she stopped out in the open to wait. She watched the black rider turn his grisly steed and head right for her. She felt like a thousand butterflies had been trapped in her stomach. Her mouth went dry and her palms started to sweat. As the great winged beast began to bear down on her she was reminded of a poem by Lewis Carroll. She smirked at the irony that she should think of poetry at a time like this and then recited,
"Baware the Jabberwock, my son
The jaws that bite, the claws that catch!
Beware the jubjub bird, and shun
The frumious Bandersnatch!"
Her smirk turned to fear as the beast grew near. His eyes burned red and he drew back his long neck. The great claws reached out and Miranda threw her arms up to protect her face as she was caught. The huge claws clamped down around her waist and whisked her away in one swift stroke. She opened her eyes and could see Lord Faramir and his men by the garden door briefly before Minas Tirith became just a dark outline on the retreating horizon.
It was bitterly cold and the wind blew past her ears like an icy whistle. Her hands were still free for the moment so she pulled her cloak around herself. She tried to think of something pleasant; the sun on her face, chocolate, walking barefoot on soft grass with Haldir, um –Haldir kissing her under the trees of Lorien, the war being over…
Nope, not working. Haldir's kisses were the only things that even made her crack a smile right now, but memories of him would not chase away this chill. She felt weary and her fear was almost more than she could bear. At last, with the mountains of Mordor in sight, she fell asleep.
For a while she dreamed, and the black gate was below her along with Aragorn and his army. Gandalf was arguing with a black rider, who was not a Nazgul but a man. The cloaked man called for her to be brought down and killed in front of Gandalf. In the corner of her eye she saw Haldir, and his face blanched when he saw her. The Nazgul swooped down and dropped her at the feet of the black rider and when she looked up, she finally recognized him, and screamed.
"So will you accept the terms or do I slay this whelp of a female?" the rider asked Gandalf.
"He is bluffing," Miranda said quickly. "He wants me alive for his own purpose."
"Silence wench," the rider said.
"We did not come here to waste words treating with Sauron," Gandalf said angrily. "Release the woman or we will deal more harshly with you than your master."
The rider's face burned with fury and he grabbed Miranda by the neck with one hand and tossed her onto his horse. He mounted up behind her, turned back toward the gates and rode at full gallop inside. Then his trap was sprung and the men of the west found themselves quickly surrounded as orcs poured out from the gate, and Easterlings came out of their hiding places in the surrounding hills.
It seemed she rode for hours that way, carried up into the hills of Mordor, until finally he stopped. He tossed her to the ground and dismounted.
"Tell me the secrets you would tell my master and I will reward you well," he said.
"I have nothing to say to you that you would not learn at the point of my sword," she said angrily.
"Then show me, puny woman, and I will kill you slowly and painfully," he laughed. "Perhaps I will let you live long enough to see your friends out there devoured by the beasts that roam the hills."
Miranda thought of Haldir and felt a new strength within herself. "I am the last Seer, daughter of Israfel and servant of King Elessar of Gondor. I am a keeper of light and slayer of shadows, but you can call me doom!"
Miranda woke with a start and found herself on the ground. Her feet were tied, and her hands were tied behind her. It was mid morning now, marking the seventh day since Aragorn had ridden out of Minas Tirith. She could hear voices, and she carefully looked around to evaluate her situation. She was against a cliff, hemmed in by large boulders on either side. The only opening was blocked by a camp of men. MEN?! Miranda could see by their uniforms that they were men of Mordor, or some country to the east that were his allies. A few of them sat around a fire telling stories and laughing. She was glad they had not noticed her, or her weapons for that matter. She could feel her sword right where she had hidden it and her dagger as well, but there would be no escape from this niche they had stashed her in.
"She's awake," a harsh voice said.
Miranda looked up and saw a large soldier coming towards her. "You are a valuable prisoner," he said. "The Mouth of Sauron himself is coming to retrieve you."
Miranda remained silent. Speaking to these men would do no good. They seemed pleased by her lack of argument or begging.
"Perhaps we should keep this one for sport," another soldier said. "She is pretty, we could share her."
The large soldier quickly turned and punched the other man, knocking him to the ground. "Untouched and Unspoiled, Grolg," he said. "I was warned of this one, she killed Gormash."
The soldiers all looked at her in wonder, but Grolg just rubbed his jaw and looked at her with unveiled lust in his eyes. "She looks harmless enough to me, Deckion," he said. "I would gladly risk it."
Deckion drew his sword and held it to Grolg's throat, "And I would kill you, he said. "I would not risk Sauron's wrath for your lack of restraint."
Grolg made a pathetic gurgle sound in his throat, "As you command, Deckion."
"Yes," Deckion said sarcastically as he sheathed his sword. "We must have order after all." He sent his men away and turned to Miranda. "Why does the dark lord want you?"
Miranda turned away and said nothing.
"I am only a guard, I will not harm you unless ordered to do so," Deckion said.
"I do not know the mind of your master," Miranda said.
Deckion smiled and looked at her closely. "Wise answer," he said and pulled out a knife.
Miranda watched out of the corner of her eye, but made no move. Deckion cut the rope that held her hands. When she looked up, he tossed her a piece of bread.
"We are on tight rations, but this is fresh," he said and turned and walked away.
Miranda ate it, and soon after he returned and tied her hands again, but in front of her. Miranda watched as he turned to go, but he stopped and quietly added, "Grolg has been sent on a patrol. You will not be harmed in my keeping."
Miranda didn't relax until he was farther away. She rested against the cliff wall and tried to collect her thoughts. Who was the Mouth of Sauron? Was it the dark rider from her dream? Only time would tell what truth her dreams had shown her. She had to stay sharp, there was more to dealing with the enemy than swinging a sword. There was a battle of wits, and well chosen words. She knew that she would have to do some fast talking when this Mouth guy got here.