Disclaimer: the ONLY thing I own is Jacqueline, anything you don't
recognize from the books and a little of the plot but not all. Majority of
the plotline, most lines(which are usually adaptations from the original
book) and all LOTR characters belong to Tolkien. Some character lines are
switched(i.e. one thing Aragorn says in the books Legolas might say here) -
still belongs to Tolkien.
A/N: Okay this is where I start getting back into the movie, sort of. You'll see as the story goes on. And for all of you asking about the whole thing about some main character dying in place of Boromir, I'll only say that it's NOT Legolas; never was and never will be. Couldn't pull that one off if I tried. I have exams coming up, so don't expect Chapter 18 until after next week when they're done. I'll try but no guarantees.
Chapter 17 - The Old Man and Jacqueline's Father
The Riders gave the Five Hunters dark looks as Eomer ordered the three horses to be lent to them. Eothain was the only one bold enough to speak.
"Our horses are well suited for this self-proclaimed lord of Gondor, but surely not a Dwarf?"
"Trouble not, for no one shall hear of this. I would sooner walk than ride such great beasts," Gimli assured him.
"But you will slow us if you do not ride," Aragorn reasoned.
"Come, Gimli, you shall ride with me," Legolas said, ending the dispute. "Then you will not have to borrow one of your own."
An ash-black was given to Aragorn; Hasufel was his name, Eomer told him. Aragorn mounted the gentle beast and sat tall in the saddle. A lighter and more spirited horse was brought over to Legolas and Gimli, whose name was Arod. Legolas jumped easily into the saddle, and Gimli was lifted up to sit behind him. Although with a small wild streak Arod was tame with Legolas, moving with but a spoken word; such was the elvish way that it was like Legolas needed no saddle or rein save for Gimli's comfort. The third horse was a cream horse named Orlfen, who was given to Boromir. Lively but calm, the horse quickly became as noble as his rider. Jacqueline was about to climb up after him when another of the Riders stopped her.
"My lady," he began shakily. "I would be honoured if you would take my horse."
She looked at the Rider, then at his horse. The steed was as great and white as Shadowfax, though the mane and tail was as black as the night sky. Jacqueline stroked the muzzle and turned to the Rider.
"You would lend me such a steed?"
"Give, my lady," the Rider corrected her.
"Why would you give me such a beautiful and noble horse?" she asked astoundedly. The Rider looked around before answering.
"A few years back, while I was scouting quite near the Golden Wood, I came across a band of orcs. They chased me to the boarders of the Wood and I was shot with many an arrow, but it was the gracious Lady of the Wood who saved me. I swore to help her and her kin in whatever ways I could without betraying my own people. Consider this part of my debt to your grandmother."
The horse nudged her gently. "What did you name the horse?"
"Al(a)tariel," the Rider answered. "The Telerin form of Galadriel. My horse was always known as one of the most beautiful of the Mearas, so after I left the Wood I felt the name was fitting. The Lady gave me her blessing."
Jacqueline took the reins from him and mounted, taller than her companions since her horse was taller. She looked back at the Rider as her companions rode up to her. "Tell me your name."
"Thimen," he answered, bowing.
"Thimen, I thank you for your kindness. May the stars shine brightly upon you," she replied, bowing her head in response.
"Farewell good friends," Eomer said to the companions. "And may whatever hope follow you as you search for your friends. Come back to us with great speed, and our swords may shine together yet."
"You have my word I will," assured Aragorn.
"As will I," Gimli chimed in. "I have yet to teach you good speech of the Lady Galadriel."
"We shall see my good Dwarf," Eomer acknowledged. "Goodbye!"
And so they parted. The Rohan horses were very swift, and soon Eomer's company were specks in the distance. Everyone kept their sight ahead; Aragorn kept an eye on the trail though Jacqueline led them. Al(a)tariel was the swiftest, with Hasufel nearly in stride and Arod and Orlfen close behind. Soon they came up to the Entwash where Aragorn halted them to examine the area.
"The trail is unclear with the hoofprints of the Rohirrim, but nothing goes to the Anduin," Aragorn said after a few moments. "We will ride slow to ensure that nothing goes left or right of the trail. Clearly the orcs were aware of them and tried to escape with our friends."
They continued on, riding all day. The companions passed many orcs with grey-feathered arrows on either side as Fangorn grew closer. By late afternoon's arrival they came to the eaves of the forest where the orc-pile burned in an open glade. Weapons and discarded armour piled up beside the ashes, and a goblin-head on a spike looked over the scene. Down by the river was a freshly-raised mound with fifteen spears planted on top of it. Everyone immediately jumped off their horses and searched the area except Jacqueline who knew they would find nothing. She led all their horses to an old tree and tied them near it as the other four came to her.
"No more can be done in the darkness; this is by far the hardest riddle we face," Gimli complained. "Jacqueline, what is the answer?"
"They are in the wood," she answered settling near the tree. Gimli sighed.
"It will be hard on Frodo and Bilbo if they are not found. Let us go and search for them."
"No," Jacqueline said abruptly. "Rest. We will find them in due time."
"We shouldn't have let them come," Gimli replied, settling down. "Elrond was initially against their coming."
"Until he entrusted their well-being to me," Jacqueline said, lying down. "He hoped it would be enough to help send me home after the Ring's destruction."
"And will you?" Aragorn asked, leaning against the tree.
She shook her head sleepily. "I belong here not there."
Quickly she began falling asleep. Legolas removed his cloak and folded it up, placing it under her head as a pillow. Once he settled near Aragorn, Boromir drapped his cloak over her as a blanket. Brief glances were shared between the two as Gimli became restless.
"We need a fire," he stated. "Let foul creatures come; at least we shall be warm."
"Yes, it also may draw the hobbits to us," Legolas agreed.
"And other things as well," Boromir argued. "Cutting wood from Fangorn is dangerous, and we can do without a fire."
"But the Rohirrim cut wood and safely left," the Dwarf pointed out.
"They do not heed Fangorn's anger, and did not go into Fangorn. Most likely we will go through it so be cautious and cut no living wood."
Gimli got up. "There is no need. The Riders left enough dead wood."
He went about gathering wood as Jacqueline fell into a deep sleep. She saw Frodo and Sam still out on the Emyn Muil, trekking heavily along. They were so tired and such a mess. She should have gone with them; heaven knows she would have been more useful there. But she was also afraid that if she had gone witht hem she may not have discovered who her father is. So for now it had to be like this. Gollum followed them like a shadow, and went mostly unnoticed until Frodo spotted him. A dispute eruptted, and Frodo coiled the elvish rope Sam had brought around Gollum's ankle and held Sting at him. Poor Gollum coward beneath the blade and begged for the rope to be taken off. His soul was so blackened and corrupt by this worthless piece of gold and desired it so much, and yet he hated it as much as everyone else did. So many years alone in the mountain with no friends; she knew how he felt. They were so alike. Frodo's bravery was like her also; based and fueled by fear. There was more fear in him then all five of the hunters combined. The burden grew day by day, the Ring enlarging its temptation and evil life. She sent whatever reassuring thoughts she could, hoping to mend his soul. Bless Sam for his loyalty, otherwise it was doubtful Frodo would have made it. Sam may not have been the brightest or that confident in himself, but his unconditional love to Frodo was the greatest strength of all. He was the beakon that helped Frodo through the haze of evil in Mordor, and if he could, he would have marched right up Mount Doom and hurled the Ring in; anything to help his master and friend.
Then the scene faded, and her mother appeared in a dark room. Another figure was with her, a tall dark figure oozing with malicious vibes. Her mother was deathly afraid of the figure, shrinking into a corner trying to get away from him. There was a long whip in his hand, and he didn't hesitate to use it on the Elf. Lash after lash rose and fell, rose and fell, taking pleasure in her screams. Blood flowed like rivers down her body, exactly like when her father murdered her mother when se was six. The Elf crawled away, but the whips followed and did not stop. After what seemed like an eternity, the vile figure stopped, and spun around. Her mother saw her, or seemed to, and called her a name she had never heard, begging for help. The figure walked forward, a black shadow hand reaching out for her.....
Jacqueline woke up with a cry, sweating. She know who her father was now, and knew where her mother was being tortured in her dream. She began to get up; she had to go to her mother.
"Jacqueline!" Boromir said, grabbing her arm. "Jacqueline what is it?"
She looked at him. "I have to go to my mother."
She struggled in his grasp, and he found he had a hard time holding her. "You were dreaming, Jacqueline. Calm yourself."
"Let me go, Boromir," she warned.
"No."
Without warning she brought her free arm around in her fit of madness and struck Boromir, knocking him away. Legolas was shaken out of sleep and immediately moved over to them, holding Jacqueline's elbows behind her. He pulled her right back to him and whispered in elvish trying to calm her. She continued struggling, but Legolas was stronger than Boromir and his arms were like an iron bar. Boromir got back up as Aragorn and Gimli roused out of sleep and grabbed Jacqueline's shoulders.
"Let me go! I have to go to my mother!" she said angrily.
"Your mother is dead Jacqueline!" Boromir cried exasperated. She stopped suddenly and just looked at him, the madness leaving her.
"I'm sorry," she whispered. Boromir, looking suddenly compassionate, pulled her away from Legolas into his embrace. He rubbed her back slowly, and after a few moments she pulled away. She reassured them that she was okay and that the dream was just a little bit stronger than her last one. Reluctantly they allowed her the next watch and Jacqueline sat up as her companions fell back to sleep. The realization of her father's identity sank in, and was like a leech in her thoughts. The night wore on, and a grey-cloaked man with a hat walked up near the camp. She knew who it was and walked up to him.
"Well met old friend," she said bowing.
"Well met, strange visitor," he replied bowing. They shared a laugh and ended up waking the others. Jacqueline turned and the man vanished before her companions' eyes. The horses ran off suddenly, and Jacqueline ran after them as far as the boarders of the forest.
"It was Saruman I am sure of it," Gimli stated. "His shadow wandered here and chased the horses away."
"Not long ago you despised getting on such beasts," Legolas tried, chuckling to lift the atmosphere.
"Regardless, they are gone," Aragorn said as Jacqueline returned. "We will go to look for them if they do not return. For now I will take the next watch."
And so they continued taking turns with the watches, but Jacqueline slept not a wink; her father kept her up.
A/N: Okay this is where I start getting back into the movie, sort of. You'll see as the story goes on. And for all of you asking about the whole thing about some main character dying in place of Boromir, I'll only say that it's NOT Legolas; never was and never will be. Couldn't pull that one off if I tried. I have exams coming up, so don't expect Chapter 18 until after next week when they're done. I'll try but no guarantees.
Chapter 17 - The Old Man and Jacqueline's Father
The Riders gave the Five Hunters dark looks as Eomer ordered the three horses to be lent to them. Eothain was the only one bold enough to speak.
"Our horses are well suited for this self-proclaimed lord of Gondor, but surely not a Dwarf?"
"Trouble not, for no one shall hear of this. I would sooner walk than ride such great beasts," Gimli assured him.
"But you will slow us if you do not ride," Aragorn reasoned.
"Come, Gimli, you shall ride with me," Legolas said, ending the dispute. "Then you will not have to borrow one of your own."
An ash-black was given to Aragorn; Hasufel was his name, Eomer told him. Aragorn mounted the gentle beast and sat tall in the saddle. A lighter and more spirited horse was brought over to Legolas and Gimli, whose name was Arod. Legolas jumped easily into the saddle, and Gimli was lifted up to sit behind him. Although with a small wild streak Arod was tame with Legolas, moving with but a spoken word; such was the elvish way that it was like Legolas needed no saddle or rein save for Gimli's comfort. The third horse was a cream horse named Orlfen, who was given to Boromir. Lively but calm, the horse quickly became as noble as his rider. Jacqueline was about to climb up after him when another of the Riders stopped her.
"My lady," he began shakily. "I would be honoured if you would take my horse."
She looked at the Rider, then at his horse. The steed was as great and white as Shadowfax, though the mane and tail was as black as the night sky. Jacqueline stroked the muzzle and turned to the Rider.
"You would lend me such a steed?"
"Give, my lady," the Rider corrected her.
"Why would you give me such a beautiful and noble horse?" she asked astoundedly. The Rider looked around before answering.
"A few years back, while I was scouting quite near the Golden Wood, I came across a band of orcs. They chased me to the boarders of the Wood and I was shot with many an arrow, but it was the gracious Lady of the Wood who saved me. I swore to help her and her kin in whatever ways I could without betraying my own people. Consider this part of my debt to your grandmother."
The horse nudged her gently. "What did you name the horse?"
"Al(a)tariel," the Rider answered. "The Telerin form of Galadriel. My horse was always known as one of the most beautiful of the Mearas, so after I left the Wood I felt the name was fitting. The Lady gave me her blessing."
Jacqueline took the reins from him and mounted, taller than her companions since her horse was taller. She looked back at the Rider as her companions rode up to her. "Tell me your name."
"Thimen," he answered, bowing.
"Thimen, I thank you for your kindness. May the stars shine brightly upon you," she replied, bowing her head in response.
"Farewell good friends," Eomer said to the companions. "And may whatever hope follow you as you search for your friends. Come back to us with great speed, and our swords may shine together yet."
"You have my word I will," assured Aragorn.
"As will I," Gimli chimed in. "I have yet to teach you good speech of the Lady Galadriel."
"We shall see my good Dwarf," Eomer acknowledged. "Goodbye!"
And so they parted. The Rohan horses were very swift, and soon Eomer's company were specks in the distance. Everyone kept their sight ahead; Aragorn kept an eye on the trail though Jacqueline led them. Al(a)tariel was the swiftest, with Hasufel nearly in stride and Arod and Orlfen close behind. Soon they came up to the Entwash where Aragorn halted them to examine the area.
"The trail is unclear with the hoofprints of the Rohirrim, but nothing goes to the Anduin," Aragorn said after a few moments. "We will ride slow to ensure that nothing goes left or right of the trail. Clearly the orcs were aware of them and tried to escape with our friends."
They continued on, riding all day. The companions passed many orcs with grey-feathered arrows on either side as Fangorn grew closer. By late afternoon's arrival they came to the eaves of the forest where the orc-pile burned in an open glade. Weapons and discarded armour piled up beside the ashes, and a goblin-head on a spike looked over the scene. Down by the river was a freshly-raised mound with fifteen spears planted on top of it. Everyone immediately jumped off their horses and searched the area except Jacqueline who knew they would find nothing. She led all their horses to an old tree and tied them near it as the other four came to her.
"No more can be done in the darkness; this is by far the hardest riddle we face," Gimli complained. "Jacqueline, what is the answer?"
"They are in the wood," she answered settling near the tree. Gimli sighed.
"It will be hard on Frodo and Bilbo if they are not found. Let us go and search for them."
"No," Jacqueline said abruptly. "Rest. We will find them in due time."
"We shouldn't have let them come," Gimli replied, settling down. "Elrond was initially against their coming."
"Until he entrusted their well-being to me," Jacqueline said, lying down. "He hoped it would be enough to help send me home after the Ring's destruction."
"And will you?" Aragorn asked, leaning against the tree.
She shook her head sleepily. "I belong here not there."
Quickly she began falling asleep. Legolas removed his cloak and folded it up, placing it under her head as a pillow. Once he settled near Aragorn, Boromir drapped his cloak over her as a blanket. Brief glances were shared between the two as Gimli became restless.
"We need a fire," he stated. "Let foul creatures come; at least we shall be warm."
"Yes, it also may draw the hobbits to us," Legolas agreed.
"And other things as well," Boromir argued. "Cutting wood from Fangorn is dangerous, and we can do without a fire."
"But the Rohirrim cut wood and safely left," the Dwarf pointed out.
"They do not heed Fangorn's anger, and did not go into Fangorn. Most likely we will go through it so be cautious and cut no living wood."
Gimli got up. "There is no need. The Riders left enough dead wood."
He went about gathering wood as Jacqueline fell into a deep sleep. She saw Frodo and Sam still out on the Emyn Muil, trekking heavily along. They were so tired and such a mess. She should have gone with them; heaven knows she would have been more useful there. But she was also afraid that if she had gone witht hem she may not have discovered who her father is. So for now it had to be like this. Gollum followed them like a shadow, and went mostly unnoticed until Frodo spotted him. A dispute eruptted, and Frodo coiled the elvish rope Sam had brought around Gollum's ankle and held Sting at him. Poor Gollum coward beneath the blade and begged for the rope to be taken off. His soul was so blackened and corrupt by this worthless piece of gold and desired it so much, and yet he hated it as much as everyone else did. So many years alone in the mountain with no friends; she knew how he felt. They were so alike. Frodo's bravery was like her also; based and fueled by fear. There was more fear in him then all five of the hunters combined. The burden grew day by day, the Ring enlarging its temptation and evil life. She sent whatever reassuring thoughts she could, hoping to mend his soul. Bless Sam for his loyalty, otherwise it was doubtful Frodo would have made it. Sam may not have been the brightest or that confident in himself, but his unconditional love to Frodo was the greatest strength of all. He was the beakon that helped Frodo through the haze of evil in Mordor, and if he could, he would have marched right up Mount Doom and hurled the Ring in; anything to help his master and friend.
Then the scene faded, and her mother appeared in a dark room. Another figure was with her, a tall dark figure oozing with malicious vibes. Her mother was deathly afraid of the figure, shrinking into a corner trying to get away from him. There was a long whip in his hand, and he didn't hesitate to use it on the Elf. Lash after lash rose and fell, rose and fell, taking pleasure in her screams. Blood flowed like rivers down her body, exactly like when her father murdered her mother when se was six. The Elf crawled away, but the whips followed and did not stop. After what seemed like an eternity, the vile figure stopped, and spun around. Her mother saw her, or seemed to, and called her a name she had never heard, begging for help. The figure walked forward, a black shadow hand reaching out for her.....
Jacqueline woke up with a cry, sweating. She know who her father was now, and knew where her mother was being tortured in her dream. She began to get up; she had to go to her mother.
"Jacqueline!" Boromir said, grabbing her arm. "Jacqueline what is it?"
She looked at him. "I have to go to my mother."
She struggled in his grasp, and he found he had a hard time holding her. "You were dreaming, Jacqueline. Calm yourself."
"Let me go, Boromir," she warned.
"No."
Without warning she brought her free arm around in her fit of madness and struck Boromir, knocking him away. Legolas was shaken out of sleep and immediately moved over to them, holding Jacqueline's elbows behind her. He pulled her right back to him and whispered in elvish trying to calm her. She continued struggling, but Legolas was stronger than Boromir and his arms were like an iron bar. Boromir got back up as Aragorn and Gimli roused out of sleep and grabbed Jacqueline's shoulders.
"Let me go! I have to go to my mother!" she said angrily.
"Your mother is dead Jacqueline!" Boromir cried exasperated. She stopped suddenly and just looked at him, the madness leaving her.
"I'm sorry," she whispered. Boromir, looking suddenly compassionate, pulled her away from Legolas into his embrace. He rubbed her back slowly, and after a few moments she pulled away. She reassured them that she was okay and that the dream was just a little bit stronger than her last one. Reluctantly they allowed her the next watch and Jacqueline sat up as her companions fell back to sleep. The realization of her father's identity sank in, and was like a leech in her thoughts. The night wore on, and a grey-cloaked man with a hat walked up near the camp. She knew who it was and walked up to him.
"Well met old friend," she said bowing.
"Well met, strange visitor," he replied bowing. They shared a laugh and ended up waking the others. Jacqueline turned and the man vanished before her companions' eyes. The horses ran off suddenly, and Jacqueline ran after them as far as the boarders of the forest.
"It was Saruman I am sure of it," Gimli stated. "His shadow wandered here and chased the horses away."
"Not long ago you despised getting on such beasts," Legolas tried, chuckling to lift the atmosphere.
"Regardless, they are gone," Aragorn said as Jacqueline returned. "We will go to look for them if they do not return. For now I will take the next watch."
And so they continued taking turns with the watches, but Jacqueline slept not a wink; her father kept her up.
