Extra long chapter as a Christmas gift for my readers, as I can not promise an update before New Year or otherwise during the holidays, I will spend time with my family after all and want to give my other stories a little attention as well! Thank you for understanding! / Rogercat
~X~X~X~X~X~X
There was an ancient highway that ran down from Isengard to the crossings. For some way it took its course beside the river, bending with it east and then north; but at the last it turned away and went straight towards the gates of Isengard; and these were under the mountain-side in the west of the valley, sixteen miles or more from its mouth. This road they followed but they did not ride upon it; for the ground beside it was firm and level, covered for many miles about with short springing turf. They rode now more swiftly, and by midnight the Fords were nearly five leagues behind. Then they halted, ending their night's journey, for Théoden was weary and he was not the only one feeling that even a few hours of sleep earlier during the day had not been enough to make up for a long night of fighting.
"Better to let us all rest, and the horses as well."
They came to the feet of the Misty Mountains, and the long arms of Nan Curunír stretched down to meet them. Dark lay the vale before them, for the moon had passed into the West, and its light was hidden by the hills. But out of the deep shadow of the dale rose a vast spire of smoke and vapour; as it mounted, it caught the rays of the sinking moon, and spread in shimmering billows, black and silver, over the starry sky.
"What do you think of that, Gandalf?" asked Aragorn as they all were on guard against possible movements in the dark, "One would say that all the Wizard's Vale was burning."
"There is ever a fume above that valley these days," Éomer mentioned as he checked the hooves on Firefoot for any stuck stones that could harm his trusted warhorse, "but I have never seen something like this before. These are streams rather than smokes. Saruman is brewing some devilry to greet us. Maybe he is boiling all the waters of Isen, and that is why the river runs dry."
Given what sort of things Saruman must have done to breed the Uruk-hai, none wanted to imagine what he may have in his mind, but Oberyn was not the only Dornishman thinking of that it was a good thing that the Valyrian Stronghold was long gone since several hundred years back, else Sauruman might have tried to make a alliance with the Dragonlords there.
"Maybe he is," said Gandalf, looking to be deep in thought, "Tomorrow we shall learn what he is doing. Now let us rest for a while, if we can."
They camped beside the bed of the Isen river; it was still silent and empty. Some of them slept a little. But late in the night the watchmen cried out, and all awoke. The moon was gone. Stars were shining above; but over the ground there crept a darkness blacker than the night. On both sides of the river it rolled towards them, going northward.
"Stay where you are!" Gandalf ordered, "Draw no weapons! Wait, and it will pass you by!"
A mist gathered about them. Above them a few stars still glimmered faintly; but on either side there arose walls of impenetrable gloom; they were in a narrow lane between moving towers of shadow. Voices they heard, whisperings and groanings and an endless rustling sigh; the earth shook under them. Long it seemed to them that they sat and were afraid; but at last the darkness and the rumour passed, and vanished between the mountain's arms.
Away south upon the Hornburg, in the middle night men heard a great noise, as a wind in the valley, and the ground trembled; and all were afraid and no one ventured to go forth. But in the morning they went out and were amazed; for the slain Orcs were gone, and the trees also. Far down into the valley of the Deep the grass was crushed and trampled brown, as if giant herdsmen had pastured great droves of cattle there; but a mile below the Dike a huge pit had been delved into the earth, and over it stones were piled into a hill. Men believed that the Orcs whom they had slain were buried there; but whether those who had fled into the wood were with them, none could say, for no man ever set foot upon that hill. The Death Down, it was afterwards called, and no grass would grow there. But the strange trees were never seen in Deeping-coomb again; they had returned at night, and had gone far away to the dark dales of Fangorn. Thus they were revenged upon the Orcs.
The company slept no more that night; but they saw and heard no other strange thing, save one: the voice of the river beside them suddenly awoke. There was a rush of water hurrying down among the stones; and when it had passed, the Isen flowed and bubbled in its bed again, as it had ever done.
"Oh, bless the Valar that the water is returning. Rohan shall not have to suffer drought on top of the war," Boromir said in relief as the water steadily rose to its usual level at this time of the year, with all the added water from melting snow both on the plains and far up in the mountains.
~X~X~X~X~X~X
The next day, March 5:
It was indeed a sight that greeted them when they finally arrived to the valley where Isengard stood:
"What happened here?"
All about them now, as if there had been a sudden flood from far up in the mountains in the past days, wide pools of water lay beside the road, filling the hollows, and rills went trickling down among the stones.
At last Gandalf halted and beckoned to them; and they came, and saw that beyond him the mists had cleared, and a pale sunlight shone. The hour of noon had passed. They had come to the doors of Isengard.
But the doors lay hurled and twisted on the ground. And all about, stone, cracked and splintered into countless jagged shards, was scattered far and wide, or piled in ruinous heaps. The great arch still stood, but it opened now upon a roofless chasm: the tunnel was laid bare, and through the cliff-like walls on either side great rents and breaches had been torn; their towers were beaten into dust. If the Great Sea had risen in wrath and fallen on the hills with storm, it could have worked no greater ruin.
The ring beyond was filled with steaming water: a bubbling cauldron, in which there heaved and floated a wreckage of beams and spars, chests and casks and broken gear. Twisted and leaning pillars reared their splintered stems above the flood, but all the roads were drowned. Far off, it seemed, half veiled in a winding cloud, there loomed the island rock. Still dark and tall, unbroken by the storm, the tower of Orthanc stood. Pale waters lapped about its feet.
"I did not send a rock-shattering attack aimed at Isengard during the fight, cousin. And it is Lemore and Holly who got the water magic from the Rhoynar, not me!" Arash whispered to Oberyn, returning the side-glare the younger Prince of Dorne sent him.
Then, when Legolas turned Arod around, both he and Gimli spotted two small figures lying on it at their ease, grey-clad, hardly to be seen among the stones. There were bottles and bowls and platters laid beside them, as if they had just eaten well, and now rested from their labour. One seemed asleep; the other, with crossed legs and arms behind his head, leaned back against a broken rock and sent from his mouth long wisps and little rings of thin blue smoke.
"Those hobbits! Trust them to be where food is!" Boromir muttered, both he and Aragorn facepalming mostly to hide their respective amused grin at the scene, and Gimli cried out:
"You rascals, you woolly-footed and wool-pated truants! A fine hunt you have led us, with Boromir struggling with the wounds he got in his attempt to shield you two! Two hundred leagues, through fen and forest, battle and death, to rescue you! And here we find you feasting and idling – and smoking! Smoking! Where did you come by the weed, you villains? Hammer and tongs! I am so torn between rage and joy, that if I do not burst, it will be a marvel!"
"You speak for me, Gimli," laughed Legolas as he tried to keep the Dwarf from sliding off Arod by his movements, "Though I would sooner learn how they came by the wine."
While the Four Hunters found this a rather odd way to end their goal to free Merry and Pippin, For a moment Théoden and Éomer and all the other Men stared at the two hobbits in wonder. Amid all the wreck of Isengard this seemed to them the strangest sight. But before the former king could speak, the small smoke-breathing figure became suddenly aware of them, as they sat there silent on the edge of the mist. He sprang to his feet. A young man he looked, or like one, though not much more than half a man in height; his head of brown curling hair was uncovered, but he was clad in a travel-stained cloak of the same hue and shape as the companions of Gandalf had worn when they rode to Edoras. He bowed very low, putting his hand upon his breast. Then, seeming not to observe the wizard and his friends, he turned to Éomer and Théoden.
"Welcome, my lords, to Isengard!" he said in honest seriousness, "We are the doorwardens. Meriadoc, son of Saradoc is my name; and my companion, who, alas! is overcome with weariness" – here he gave the other a dig with his foot – "is Peregrin, son of Paladin, of the House of Took. Far in the North is our home. The Lord Saruman is within; the doors have been blocked by all the water, or doubtless he would be here to welcome such honorable guests….ow!"
Mostly to please Gimli and to remind them about that this was not the Shire where they were part of the upper classes, Boromir tossed his filled water skin on Merry, knocking the hobbit over as a scolding for all the worries the Four Hunters had been facing about them since Amon Hen.
"One thing you have not found in your hunting, and that's brighter wits," said Pippin, finding himself needing to hasty duck for the tossed Dwarf helmet that Gimli aimed at him, "Here you find us sitting on a field of victory, amid the plunder of armies, and you wonder how we came by a few well-earned comforts!"
"Well-earned?" repeated Gimli with a scowl, holding up one of his axes as a warning to any more such comments, "I cannot believe that!'
The Riders laughed as the two hobbits found themselves facing this punishment by their non-Hobbit companions from the Fellowship.
"It cannot be doubted that we bear witness the meeting of dear friends," Théoden spoke once Boromir and Gimli had run out of things within reach to toss at the hobbits, "So these are the lost ones of your company, Gandalf? The days are fated to be filled with marvels. Already I have seen many since I left my house; and now here before my eyes stand yet another of the folk of legend. Are not these the Halflings, that some among us call the Holbytlan?"
"Hobbits, if you please, lord," said Pippin, mindful of the glare Gimli sent at him.
"Hobbits?" wondered Théoden, "Your tongue is strangely changed; but the name sounds not unfitting so. Hobbits! No report that I have heard does justice to the truth."
Spotting a chance to avoid getting another item tossed at him, especially with Boromir giving them a clear look that warned for any silly actions, Merry joined Pippin;
"You are gracious, lord; or I hope that I may take your words. And here is another marvel! I have wandered in many lands, since I left my home, and never till now have I found people that knew any story concerning hobbits."
"My people came out of the North long ago," Théoden smiled, "But I will not deceive you: we know no tales about hobbits. All that is said among us is that far away, over many hills and rivers, live the halfling folk that dwell in holes in sand-dunes. But there are no legends of their deeds, for it is said that they do little, and avoid the sight of men, being able to vanish in a twinkling; and they can change their voices to resemble the piping of birds. But it seems that more could be said."
Stopping Merry and Pippin from going into a long talk about the pipeweed they had found, Gandalf directed everyone's attention towards the reason why the Riders had come here in the first place.
"We still need to talk with Saruman. Where is Treebeard, Merry?"
"Away on the north side, I believe. He went to get a drink – of clean water. Most of the other Ents are with him, still busy at their work – over there."
Merry waved his hand towards the steaming lake; and as they looked, they heard a distant rumbling and rattling, as if an avalanche was falling from the mountain-side. Far away came a hoom-hom, as of horns blowing triumphantly.
"And is Orthanc then left unguarded?" asked Gandalf.
"There is the water," said Merry, pointing towards the stairs where the water was almost up at the door, "But Quickbeam and some others are watching it. Not all those posts and pillars in the plain are of Saruman's planting. Quickbeam, I think, is by the rock, near the foot of the stair."
"Yes, a tall grey Ent is there," Legolas confirmed, "but his arms are at his sides, and he stands as still as a door-tree.'
"It is past noon," said Gandalf, "and we at any rate have not eaten since early morning. Yet I wish to see Treebeard as soon as possible. Did he leave me no message, or has the plate and bottle driven it from your mind?"
"He left a message," Merry hurried to say, looking a little offended over the accussion that the food and drink would have made them forgotten, "and I was coming to it, but I have been hindered by many other questions and items tossed at me. I was to say that, if the Lord of the Mark and Gandalf will ride to the northern wall they will find Treebeard there, and he will welcome them. I may add that they will also find food of the best there, which was discovered and selected by your humble servants."
He bowed and Gandalf laughed in a more kind voice:
"That is better! Well, Théoden, will you ride with me to find Treebeard? We must go roundabout, but it is not far. When you see Treebeard, you will learn much. For Treebeard is Fangorn, and the eldest and chief of the Ents, and when you speak with him you will hear the speech of the oldest of all living things."
"I will come with you," said Théoden, riding forwards, "Farewell, my hobbits! May we meet again in my house, where my son rules as the King! There you shall sit beside me and tell me all that your hearts desire: the deeds of your grandsires, as far as you can reckon them; and we will speak also of the herb-lore that your home may even share with the homeland of my daughter-in-law. Farewell!"
The hobbits bowed low as he rode past.
'So that is the former King of Rohan and sire of the current one!' said Pippin in an undertone, "A fine old fellow. Very polite. I am already getting curious about the King and his Queen, if they are like this too!"
"Oh, you have no idea," Gimli huffered, recalling the first impression of Elia back in Meduseld. The hobbits better act as true gentlemen in her presence, for she was the Queen.
~X~X~X~X~X~X
As the rest of the riders went on, Merry and Pippin told Aragorn, Boromir, Legolas and Gimli the full tale of what had happened for them during those past nine days, as well as how the Ents had flooded Isengard during the battle.
On the eastern side of Orthanc, in the angle of two piers, there was a great door, high above the ground; and over it was a shuttered window, opening upon a balcony hedged with iron bars. Up to the threshold of the door there mounted a flight of twenty-seven broad stairs, hewn by some unknown art of the same black stone. This was the only entrance to the tower; but many tall windows were cut with deep embrasures in the climbing walls: far up they peered like little eyes in the sheer faces of the horns.
"Saruman, come out!"
When no replay came, Oberyn used his spear to slam harder on the closed door. Again, no response.
"Arash, wake him up if he is faking to be asleep so he will not have to greet us," the Prince of Dorne ordered, pointing with his thumb towards the balcony. His baseborn cousin obeyed, kicking on the black stone that the tower was made of. It was only one kick, but the whole Orthanc shook and trembled as if being hit by an earthquake.
"How quick to cause harm, just like the Eastern King you hail from!" a voice spoke, "Why must you disturb my rest? Will you give me no peace at all by night or day?"
Looking up towards the balcony, they saw Saruman. But while looking like an old man with white hair and beard, not unlike Gandalf in his current self, he spotted a black eye and other bruises on his face, Legolas could see reasonable fresh marks on his throat as if he had almost been strangled, half-healed wounds that had been so violent as if they had been done in a fist fight.
"Two at least of you I know by name. Gandalf I know too well to have much hope that he seeks help or counsel here. But you, Théoden Lord of the Mark of Rohan, are declared by your noble devices, and still more by the fair countenance of the House of Eorl. O worthy son of Thengel the Thrice-renowned! Why have you not come before, and as a friend? Much have I desired to see you, mightiest king of western lands, and especially in these latter years, to save you from the unwise and evil counsels that beset you! Is it yet too late? Despite the injuries that have been done to me, in which the men of Rohan, alas! have had some part, still I would save you, and deliver you from the ruin that draws nigh inevitably, if you ride upon this road which you have taken. Indeed I alone can aid you now."
Éomer almost snarled, his eyes flashing in wrath. How dared Saruman speak like this to his uncle, after what nearly had happened to Théodred?
"That is rich, coming from the one who tried to murder my son, rob Rohan of its King during a war and make Elia widowed for the second time!"
Théoden looked up, and everyone could see his eyes bearing the same fury as his sister-son. On the leather gloves he wore, a small sun standing for Dorne was shining, and not just from it being gold embroidery glittering in the pale sunlight, it was a spell of protection Elia had crafted for her father-in-law when sewing those gloves for him, and now it sheltered him from falling under whatever false promises that Saruman tried to offer.
"You speak of peace, Saruman," he said, now in a clear yet ice-cold voice, "we will have peace, when you and all your works have perished – and the works of your dark master to whom you would deliver us. You are a liar, Saruman, and a corrupter of men's hearts. You hold out your hand to me, and I perceive only a finger of the claw of Mordor. Cruel and cold! Even if your war on me was just – as it was not, for were you ten times as wise you would have no right to rule me and mine for your own profit as you desired – even so, what will you say of your torches in Westfold and the children that lie dead there? And they hewed Háma's body before the gates of the Hornburg, after he was dead. When you hang from a gibbet at your window for the sport of your own crows, I will have peace with you and Orthanc on behalf of my son, who trusts me to lead Rohan into battle on his behalf because of his injuries."
The son of long-gone King Thengel and Morwen Steelsheen turned around, showing Saruman just how little effect his voice had.
"On behalf of my son, King Théodred and his Queen consort Elia Martell of Dorne, I reject whatever you try to offer, Saruman, the traitor!"
The Rohirric Riders gazed up at Théoden like men startled out of a dream. Harsh as an old raven's, their master's voice sounded in their ears after the music of Saruman. But Saruman for a while was beside himself with wrath. He leaned over the rail as if he would smite the King with his staff, if Khamûl had not broken it and made it worthless. To some, suddenly it seemed that they saw a snake coiling itself to strike, and Arash aimed a new kick at the tower just to be ready for any foul tricks.
"Gibbets and crows!" Saruman hissed, and they shuddered at the hideous change, "Dotard! What is the house of Eorl but a thatched barn where brigands drink in the reek, and their brats roll on the floor among the dogs? Too long have they escaped the gibbet themselves. But the noose comes, slow in the drawing, tight and hard in the end. Hang if you will! And you, Gandalf, enjoy the company of otherworld savages, horse-taming cut-throats and small rag-tags that dangle at your tail!"
"Thatched barn?" Oberyn muttered loudly, looking insulted on behalf of his beloved sister and Arash mirrored his furious face, "There is several good reasons to why Elia prefers this "thatched barn" over the damp stone castle that was Dragonstone and the Red Keep that reeked of Targaryen madness! That inbred unfaithful rat she had to call her first husband and sired her two older children, is the exact type to give marriages a bad name because he let his lower head control him the moment a younger woman caught his eye and did not respect his own, fully grown-up wife!"
Both of them moved at the same time. Using his spear to aim against the face of Saruman, Oberyn sent up a miniature version of the Kemet cobra of sand that Khamûl favored, and with a new kick Arash caused Orthanc to tremble even more and Saruman had to cling to the rail of the balcony to not fall over. Somewhere, a small splash was heard.
"Saruman!" Boromir called in a commanding voice, now acting as the ruling Steward of Gondor as they all saw how Saruman struggled to avoid being bitten even if the cobra was made of sand, "Give me the keys to Orthanc! You are no longer the Master of this tower, and as the current Steward, I reclaim it as a property of Gondor!"
With a cry Saruman fell back, the keys falling from his belt and crawled away back inside as the sand cobra dropped the keys into the opened hand of Boromir from the balcony. The door was shut as the snake vanished into thin air.
"The murderous rogue!" cried Éomer, over the cheers from the Dornishmen over that Oberyn and Arash had stopped something bad from happening. But Gandalf was noticing that Pippin had run off.
"Here, my lad, I'll take that! I did not ask you to handle it," the White Wizard cried, turning sharply and seeing Pippin coming up the steps, slowly, as if he were bearing a great weight. He went down to meet him and hastily took a strange, dark globe from the youngest hobbit, wrapping it in the folds of his cloak.
"I will take care of this," he said kindly, "It is not a thing, I guess, that Saruman would have chosen to cast away, it must have been near one of the broken windows, and rolled out from the kick sent upwards by Master Arash."
A shrill shriek, suddenly cut off, came from an open window high above.
"Sounds like Saruman did not enjoy losing one of the many treasures of Orthanc gathered there over many generations. But I do not want to enter the Tower with him still inside, because of whatever he may be trying to do," Boromir admitted, glaring towards the folds of the cloak Gandalf wore, having a nagging feeling that he could guess what it was that Pippin had found.
Once they had left the valley of Isengard behind, Boromir turned towards his friends.
"I will travel towards Gondor at dawn. My people need me as their Steward and I can not remain away from them anymore. If Master Arash and a few others will act as my escort, the road home will be more safe."
The two cousins of House Martell entered a quick discussion, in their own mother-tongue:
"Minas Tiríth is a city built of stone, your powers may be useful in an attack there from Mordor."
"Only if you and some others in the family arrive to back me up eventually. Tossing away pieces of stone demands a full focus, and I can become injured like anyone else. I can not mash orcs and Trolls into flat things on the ground if I am half unconscious!"
For outsiders it may seem like they were bicking, but anyone who knew them would be able to tell that this was just their style of a heated debate. And given that Arash was four years older than Oberyn, it was only to be expected to happen since their childhood in the Old Palace.
~X~X~X~X~X~X
The sun was sinking behind the long western arm of the mountains when Gandalf and his companions had left Isengard behind. As there had not been any ponies better suited for the Hobbits coming with them from Helm's Deep, Gandalf took Merry behind him, and Aragorn took Pippin.
"Are we riding far tonight, Gandalf?" asked Merry after a while, "I don't know how you feel with a small rag-tag dangling behind you; but the rag-tag is tired and will be glad to stop dangling and lie down."
"So you heard that?" asked Gandalf, "Don't let it rankle! Be thankful no longer words were aimed at you. He had his eyes on you. If it is any comfort to your pride, I should say that, at the moment, you and Pippin are more in his thoughts than all the rest of us. Who you are; how you came there, and why; what you know; whether you were captured, and if so, how you escaped when all the Orcs perished – it is with those little riddles that the great mind of Saruman is troubled. A sneer from him, Meriadoc, is a compliment, if you feel honored by his concern."
He felt the hobbit change position a little behind his back, looking at the other side of where they were riding.
"Thank you!" said Merry, "But it is a greater honor to dangle at your tail, Gandalf. For one thing, in that position one has a chance of putting a question a second time. Are we riding far tonight?"
To this, Gandalf laughed.
"A most unquenchable hobbit! All Wizards should have a hobbit or two in their care – to teach them the meaning of the word, and to correct them. I beg your pardon. But I have given thought even to these simple matters. We will ride for a few hours, gently, until we come to the end of the valley. Tomorrow we must ride faster. When we came, we meant to go straight from Isengard back to the King's house at Edoras over the plains, a ride of some days. But we have thought again and changed the plan. Messengers have gone ahead to Helm's Deep, to warn them that the father of the King is returning tomorrow. He will ride from there with many men to Dunharrow by paths among the hills. From now on no more than two or three together are to go openly over the land, by day or night, when it can be avoided."
"Nothing or a double helping is your way!" Merry commented, "I am afraid I was not looking beyond tonight's bed. Where and what are Helm's Deep and all the rest of it? I don't know anything about this country."
That was a reasonable question, even Gandalf could see it so, as Merry and Pippin had been with the Ents, not with their friends at the royal court and the dwellings of Men here in Rohan.
"Then you'd best learn something, if you wish to understand what is happening. But not just now, and not from me: I have too many pressing things to think about."
"All right, I'll tackle Strider by the camp-fire: he's less testy. But why all this secrecy? I thought we'd won the battle!"
"Yes, we have won, but only the first victory, and that in itself increases our danger. There was some link between Isengard and Mordor, which I have not yet fathomed. How they exchanged news I am not sure; but they did so. The Eye of Barad-dûr will be looking impatiently towards the Wizard's Vale, I think; and towards Rohan. The less it sees the better."
The road passed slowly, winding down the valley. Now further, and now nearer Isen flowed in its stony bed. Night came down from the mountains. All the mists were gone. A chill wind blew. The moon, now waxing round, filled the eastern sky with a pale cold sheen. The shoulders of the mountain to their right sloped down to bare hills. The wide plains opened grey before them.
At last they halted. Then they turned aside, leaving the highway and taking to the sweet upland turf again. Going westward a mile or so they came to a dale. It opened southward, leaning back into the slope of round Dol Baran, the last hill of the northern ranges, greenfooted, crowned with heather. The sides of the glen were shaggy with last year's bracken, among which the tight-curled fronds of spring were just thrusting through the sweet-scented earth. Thornbushes grew thick upon the low banks, and under them they made their camp, two hours or so before the middle of the night. They lit a fire in a hollow, down among the roots of a spreading hawthorn, tall as a tree, writhen with age, but hale in every limb. Buds were swelling at each twig's tip.
"Gandalf, may I?" Boromir wondered with a pointed look towards his cloak, and the Wizard allowed a quick use when the Steward explained that he only would try getting in contact with Faramir in Minas Tirith to let his brother see that he was still alive and send over some orders for him to carry out on behalf of Boromir, because it would still take some days for him to come home to Gondor.
"Wise decision to evacuate the civilian population and many others who are not soldiers. The fewer lives that are lost in this war, the better for the recovery of Gondor, should we win against Sauron."
As Boromir hoped, he could use the palantír from Isengard with no trouble as he was the legitimate Steward, and through the contact with the one in Minas Tirith, Faramir was overjoyed to learn that his older brother was fine and would come home soon.
"Thanks for letting me borrow it for a moment so I could do this, Gandalf. But keep it hidden, I am worried that Pippin held it back in Isengard."
Guards were set, two at a watch. The rest, after they had supped, wrapped themselves in a cloak and blanket and slept. The hobbits lay in a corner by themselves upon a pile of old bracken. Merry was sleepy, but Pippin now seemed curiously restless. The bracken cracked and rustled, as he twisted and turned. Even Merry could not help but wonder if he had gotten a sleeping place right over an ant-hill and now found himself attacked by the angry ants.
"That—glass ball, now. Gandalf and Boromir seemed mighty pleased with it when they took it out earlier. They knows or guesses something about it. But does they tell us what? No, not a word. Yet I picked it up, and I saved it from rolling deeper into a pool somewhere. Here, I'll take that, my lad – that's all Gandalf told me. I wonder what it is? It felt so very heavy."
Pippin's voice fell very low, as if he was talking to himself.
"Hullo!" said Merry, turning over so they could see each other, "So that's what is bothering you? Now, Pippin my lad, don't forget Gildor's saying – the one Sam used to quote: Do not meddle in the affairs of Wizards, for they are subtle and quick to anger."
"But our whole life for months has been one long meddling in the affairs of Wizards," protested Pippin, "I should like a bit of information as well as danger. I should like a look at that ball before Boromir leaves tomorrow and maybe even take it with him to his homeland."
"Go to sleep!" said Merry in a hushed voice, not wanting to wake up anyone around them, "You'll get enough information, sooner or later. My dear Pippin, no Took ever beat a Brandy-buck for inquisitiveness; but is this the time, I ask you?"
"All right! What's the harm in my telling you what I should like: a look at that stone? I know I can't have it, with old Gandalf sitting on it, like a hen on an egg. But it doesn't help much to get no more from you than a you-can't-have-it so-go-to-sleep!"
"Well, what else could I say?" muttered Merry in the darkness. "I'm sorry, Pippin, but you really must wait till the morning. I'll be as curious as you like after breakfast, and I'll help in any way I can at wizard-wheedling. But I can't stay awake any longer. If I yawn any more, I shall split at the ears. Good night!"
Pippin said no more. He lay still now, but sleep remained far away; and it was not encouraged by the sound of Merry breathing softly, asleep in a few minutes after saying good night. The thought of the dark globe seemed to grow stronger as all grew quiet. Pippin felt again its weight in his hands, and saw again the mysterious red depths into which he had looked for a moment. He tossed and turned and tried to think of something else.
At last he could no longer stand it. He got up and looked round to see if anyone else was awake. It was chilly, and he wrapped his cloak about him. The moon was shining cold and white, down into the dell, and the shadows of the bushes were black. All about lay sleeping shapes. Aragorn near Boromir for the sake of the Steward possibly needing his healing wounds checked again. The two guards were not in view: they were up on the hill, perhaps, or hidden in the bracken. Driven by some impulse that he did not understand, Pippin walked softly to where Gandalf lay. He looked down at him. The wizard seemed asleep, but with lids not fully closed: there was a glitter of eyes under his long lashes. Pippin stepped back hastily, as if the sight of the not fully closed eyes was a confirmation that this was no use in doing. But Gandalf made no sign; and drawn forward once more, half against his will, the hobbit crept up again from behind the wizard's head. He was rolled in a blanket, with his cloak spread over the top; and close beside him, between his right side and his bent arm, there was a hummock, something round wrapped in a dark cloth; his hand seemed only just to have slipped off it to the ground.
Hardly breathing, Pippin crept nearer, foot by foot. At last he knelt down. Then he put his hands out stealthily, and slowly lifted the lump up: it did not seem quite so heavy as he had expected.
"Only some bundle of oddments, perhaps, after all," he thought with a strange sense of relief; but he did not put the bundle down again. He stood for a moment clasping it. Then an idea came into his mind. He tiptoed away, found a large stone, and came back.
Quickly now he drew off the cloth, wrapped the stone in it and kneeling down, laid it back by the wizard's hand. Then at last he looked at the thing that he had uncovered. There it was: a smooth globe of crystal, now dark and dead, lying bare before his knees. Pippin lifted it, covered it hurriedly in his own cloak, and half turned to go back to his bed. At that moment Gandalf moved in his sleep, and muttered some words: they seemed to be in a strange tongue; his hand groped out and clasped the wrapped stone, then he sighed and did not move again.
"You idiotic fool!" Pippin muttered to himself, his common sense trying to hammer down this idiotic idea like how old Bilbo would scold him for something stupid in his younger years so long ago back in the Shire, "You're going to get yourself into frightful trouble with both Gandalf and Boromir for this. Put it back quick!"
But he found now that his knees quaked, and he did not dare to go near enough to the wizard to reach the bundle.
"I'll never get it back now without waking him," he thought, "not till I'm a bit calmer. So I may as well have a look first. Not just here though!"
He stole away, and sat down on a green hillock not far from his bed. The moon looked over the edge of the dell. Pippin sat with his knees drawn up and the ball between them. He bent low over it, looking like a greedy child stooping over a bowl of food, in a corner away from others. He drew his cloak aside and gazed at it. The air seemed still and tense about him. At first the globe was dark, black as jet, with the moonlight gleaming on its surface. Then there came a faint glow and stir in the heart of it, and it held his eyes, so that now he could not look away. Soon all the inside seemed on fire; the ball was spinning, or the lights within were revolving. Suddenly the lights went out. He gave a gasp and struggled; but he remained bent, clasping the ball with both hands. Closer and closer he bent, and then became rigid; his lips moved soundlessly for a while. Then with a strangled cry he fell back and lay still.
The cry was piercing. The guards leapt down from the banks. All the camp was soon astir.
"Pippin?!"
"So this is the thief!" said Gandalf as he noticed the normal stone at his hand and hurried over. Hastily he cast his cloak over the globe where it lay.
"But you, Pippin! This is a grievous turn to things!"
He knelt by Pippin's body: the hobbit was lying on his back, rigid, with unseeing eyes staring up at the sky.
"The devilry! What mischief has he done – to himself, and to all of us?" Boromir cursed in alarm and worry, as the wizard's face was drawn and haggard. 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. His eyes closed. He cried out; and sat up, staring in bewilderment at all the faces around him, pale in the moonlight.
"It is not for you, Saruman!" he cried in a shrill and toneless voice, shrinking away from Gandalf, "I will send for it at once. Do you understand? Say just that!"
Then he struggled to get up and escape, but Gandalf held him gently and firmly.
"Peregrin Took!" he said in the voice most Hobbits in the Shire would know him by, "Come back!"
The hobbit relaxed and fell back, clinging to the wizard's hand.
"Gandalf!" he cried, "Gandalf! Forgive me!"
"Forgive you?" said the wizard kindly, "Tell me first what you have done!"
"I…I took the ball and looked at it," stammered Pippin; "and I saw things that frightened me. And I wanted to go away, but I couldn't. And then he came and questioned me; and he looked at me, and, and, that is all I remember."
"That won't do," said Gandalf sternly. "What did you see, and what did you say?"
Pippin shut his eyes and shivered, but said nothing. They all stared at him in silence, except Merry who turned away, and Boromir who now blocked the covered palantír from sight with his body from Pippin. But Gandalf's face was still hard.
"Speak!" he and Boromir commanded as one.
In a low hesitating voice Pippin began again, and slowly his words grew clearer and stronger.
"I saw a dark sky, and tall battlements," he said, "And tiny stars. It seemed very far away and long ago, yet hard and clear. Then the stars went in and out – they were cut off by things with wings. Very big, I think, really; but in the glass they looked like bats wheeling round the tower. I thought there were eight of them, as a ninth one was away somewhere over the plains. One began to fly straight towards me, getting bigger and bigger. It had a horrible – no, no! I can't say. I tried to get away, because I thought it would fly out; but when it had covered all the globe, it disappeared. Then he came. He did not speak so that I could hear words. He just looked, and I understood.
''So you have come back? Why have you neglected to report for so long?''I did not answer. He said: ''Who are you?'' I still did not answer, but it hurt me horribly; and he pressed me, so I said: ''A hobbit.'' Then suddenly he seemed to see me, and he laughed at me. It was cruel. It was like being stabbed with knives. I struggled. But he said: ''Wait a moment! We shall meet again soon. Tell Saruman that this dainty is not for him. I will send for it at once. Do you understand? Say just that!'' Then he gloated over me. I felt like I was falling to pieces. No, no! I can't say any more. I don't remember anything else."
'Look at me!' said Gandalf. Pippin looked up straight into his eyes. The wizard held his gaze for a moment in silence. Then his face grew gentler, and the shadow of a smile appeared. He laid his hand softly on Pippin's head.
"All right!" he spoke soon, "Say no more! You have taken no harm. There is no lie in your eyes, as I feared. But he did not speak long with you. A fool, but an honest fool, you remain, Peregrin Took. Wiser ones might have done worse in such a pass. But mark this! You have been saved, and all your friends too, mainly by good fortune, as it is called. You cannot count on it a second time. If he had questioned you, then and there, almost certainly you would have told all that you know, to the ruin of us all. But he was too eager. He did not want information only: he wanted you, quickly, so that he could deal with you in the Dark Tower, slowly. Don't shudder! If you will meddle in the affairs of Wizards, you must be prepared to think of such things. But come! I forgive you. Be comforted! Things have not turned out as evilly as they might."
He lifted Pippin gently and carried him back to his bed. Merry followed, and sat down beside him.
"Lie there and rest, if you can, Pippin!" said Gandalf, "Trust me. If you feel an itch in your palms again, tell me of it! Such things can be cured. But anyway, my dear hobbit, don't put a lump of rock under my elbow again! Now, I will leave you two together for a while."
With that Gandalf returned to the others, who were still standing by the Orthanc-stone in troubled thought.
"Peril comes in the night when least expected," he told them, "We have had a narrow escape!"
"How is the hobbit, Pippin?" asked Aragorn in worry.
"I think all will be well now," answered Gandalf, "He was not held long, and hobbits have an amazing power of recovery. The memory, or the horror of it, will probably fade quickly. Too quickly, perhaps. Will you, Aragorn, take the Orthanc-stone and guard it? It is a dangerous charge, and Boromir can not bring it with him to Gondor."
"Dangerous indeed, but not to all," Aragorn answered, 'Apart from Boromir as the Steward and his brother as his heir, there is one who may claim it by right. For this assuredly is the palantír of Orthanc from the treasury of Elendil, set here by the Kings of Gondor. Now my hour draws near. I will take it."
Gandalf looked at Aragorn, then at Boromir who nodded in agreement, and then, to the surprise of them all, he lifted the covered Stone, and bowed as he presented it.
"Receive it, lord!" he said: "in earnest of other things that shall be given back. But 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, who has waited and prepared for so many long years? Arwen and I have been betrothed for 39 years this year because Elrond has made it clear that he will only allow a wedding when I have taken the throne of Gondor, rather than having her risk herself against the dangers of Mordor in the wilderness. He holds his only daughter too dear for letting her come near the armies of Sauron," wondered Aragorn with a thin smile, recalling the many times of his childhood in Imladris when Elrond had told stories of how unwise it was in the long turn to be hasty or reckless.
"Never yet. Do not then stumble at the end of the road," answered Gandalf, "But at the least keep this thing secret. You, and all others that stand here! The Hobbit, Peregrin, above all should not know where it is bestowed. The evil fit may come on him again. For alas, he has handled it and looked in it, as should never have happened. He ought never to have touched it in Isengard, and there I should have been quicker. But my mind was bent on Saruman, and I did not at once guess the nature of the Stone. Then I was weary, and as I lay pondering it, sleep overcame me. Now I know!"
"Yes, there can be no doubt," said Boromir with a glare towards the covered Stone in question, "At last we know the link between Isengard and Mordor, and how it worked. Much is explained for us now."
"Strange powers have our enemies, and strange weaknesses!" added Théoden from his place, "But it has long been said: oft evil will shall evil mar."
"That many times is seen," Gandalf agreed, "But at this time we have been strangely fortunate. Maybe, I have been saved by this hobbit from a grave blunder. I had considered whether or not to probe this 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."
But Oberyn and Arash had started to feel a now too familiar burn in the palms of their left hands, and did not doubt for a moment what this meant. Khamûl had been the missing Nazgûl that Pippin had not seen.
"That hour has now come, I think," said Aragorn, and Gandalf spoke up against it:
"Not yet. There remains a short while of doubt, which we must use. The Enemy, it is clear, thought that the Stone was in Orthanc – why should he not? And that therefore the hobbit was captive there, driven to look in the glass for his torment by Saruman. That dark mind will be filled now with the voice and face of the hobbit and with expectation: it may take some time before he learns his error. We must snatch that time. We have been too leisurely. We must move. The neighbourhood of Isengard is no place now to linger in. I will ride ahead at once with Peregrin Took, and Boromir following us at dawn. It will be better for him than lying in the dark while others sleep."
"I will keep Éomer and ten Riders," Théoden declared, "They shall ride with me when dawn arrives. The rest may go with Aragorn or Boromir and ride as soon as they have a mind."
"As you will," said Gandalf, "But make all the speed you may to the cover of the hills, to Helm's Deep!"
"Speaking about haste…" Oberyn started as the glowing image of the spear on his palm now was acting like a heartbeat to the point of becoming painful, "We have gotten unwanted company!"
At that moment a shadow fell over them. The bright moonlight seemed to be suddenly cut off. Several of the Riders cried out, and crouched, holding their arms above their heads, as if to ward off a blow from above: a blind fear and a deadly cold fell on them. Cowering they looked up. A vast winged shape passed over the moon like a black cloud. It wheeled and went north, flying at a speed greater than any wind of Middle-earth. The stars fainted before it. It was gone.
They stood up, rigid as stones. Gandalf was gazing up, his arms out and downwards, stiff, his hands clenched.
"Nazgûl!" he cried, "The messenger of Mordor. The storm is coming. The Nazgûl have crossed the River! Ride, ride! Wait not for the dawn! Let not the swift wait for the slow! Ride!"
He sprang away, calling Shadowfax as he ran. Aragorn followed him. Going to Pippin, Gandalf picked him up in his arms.
"You shall come with me this time," he told the hobbit, "Shadowfax shall show you the famed speed of the Maeras."
Then he ran to the place where he had slept. Shadowfax stood there already. Slinging the small bag which was all his luggage across his shoulders, the wizard leapt upon the horse's back. Aragorn lifted Pippin and set him in Gandalf's arms, wrapped in cloak and blanket.
"Farewell! Follow fast, Boromir, as best as you can!" cried Gandalf to the others, "Away, Shadowfax! Towards Gondor and Minas Tirith!"
The great horse tossed his head. His flowing tail flicked in the moonlight. Then he leapt forward, spurning the earth, and was gone like the north wind from the mountains.
"A beautiful, restful night!" commented Merry to Aragorn, with everyone else running around to hasty pack their things and get ready to ride as well, "Some folk have wonderful luck. He did not want to sleep, and he wanted to ride with Gandalf – and there he goes! Instead of being turned into a stone himself to stand here forever as a warning!"
"If you had been the first to lift the Orthanc-stone, and not him, how would it be now?"said Aragorn as something to think deeper about, "You might have done worse. Who can say? But now it is your luck to come with me, I fear. At once. Go and get ready, and bring anything that Pippin left behind. Make haste!"
Ten Dornish riders, and four Rohirrim who could speak the Sindarin language spoken in Minas Tirith, with Arash as their leader, agreed to join Boromir as his escort towards Gondor, while Oberyn took the rest back to Helm's Deep.
~X~X~X~X~X~X
Author note: A slight difference from the same scene in canon Two Towers by Tolkien, but I think both Gimli and Boromir would try to non-verbally remind Merry and Pippin that they can not act silly in the presence of Kings and other high Lords of Men. Aragorn has been used to hobbits since many years back, but others may take offense at something that can come off as a lack of proper respect and manners. Besides, they have been worried sick about the two hobbits, and here they find the duo chilling with food, drink and even getting their hands on pipeweed for smoking as if nothing has happened!
Arash is the oldest of the four Sand children between the late Lewyn Martell and Rhoyne, being born in 253. Lemore is born in 256, same year as Elia, Holly in 262 and Morgan in 268
Aragorn and Arwen got betrothed in the year 2980 of the Third Age, but Elrond insisted that Arwen could not marry Aragorn until he became king of both Gondor and Arnor. This was most likely done because Elrond wanted his daughter to live a good life if she would choose to become a mortal, and not risk losing her in an orc attack upon a camp somewhere out in the wild. Also, Elrond and Arwen are the descendants of Luthien, Sauron would most likely hold a serious grudge against Luthien for the whole Quest of the Silmaril (see better details in the Silmarillion book), and with Arwen being said to look very alike Luthien in appearance… Well, no loving father would want his daughter dragged off to Mordor and horribly killed for something an ancestor did!
