Note: I apologise for the enormous hiatus and promise I will finish the story soon.

Chapter 6: Just Improvise!

On the plains of Rohan

"See, I told you," said Gandalf with his usual modest demeanour. "Fresh air and exercise was all you needed. It's the vitamin D. Of course only the wisest of the wise know about these things."

"Thanks, I owe you, Gandalf," replied Theoden. "Actually, now you mention it, I did read this book once about a boy who was ill in bed and couldn't walk and then his cousin came and showed him a garden that had been locked up, and then he was well again. Much the same idea, don't you think?"

"Are you saying that Gandalf the White takes his advice from children's books?"

"Of course not!" Sheepishly, Theoden let his horse fall a little behind to leave Gandalf in the lead. After all, he wasn't exactly sure where they were going and what they could expect to find there, but he reckoned Gandalf probably knew. Probably. Hopefully. Nobody else seemed to know exactly what kind of campaign the hosts of Rohan had just embarked on, least of all the King of Rohan. Everything was still a bit hazy in Theoden's head. He wished he had insisted on a solid breakfast and some strong coffee, but Gandalf had decided they had wasted enough time with the singing songs about Lothlorien and comparing swords and thus would only be able to take "such refreshments as haste allows," which turned out to be a couple of breakfast biscuits and a mandarin.

A little further back, riding pillion on their tandem horse, Gimli was flicking through the brochures he had picked up at the Edoras Tourist Office. He raised an eyebrow at MEET THE PUKELMEN OF DUNHARG because something seemed not quite politically correct about that, and then opened the pamphlet titled MEDUSELD – VISIT THE GOLDEN HALL AND FIND OUT HOW TO CIRCUMVENT ITS SECURITY PROTOCOLS.

"Hey, Legolas," he said after a while, "did you know those banners we saw aren't actually tapestries but embroideries? Says here they depict a total of 365 warriors and 354-and-a-half horses, the half horse being –"

"Spare me the details, "cried Legolas. "I've had enough embroidery talk from Arwen at Rivendell to last me a few decades."

oOoOoOo

Meanwhile in the Dead Marshes

"Now here's the end of those there awful marshes, and not a moment too soon, Master Frodo, if you don't mind me saying."

"I do mind you saying!" snapped Frodo. "What's with the stating the obvious all the time!"

"Aw, Frodo, me luv, don't be cross. I'm trying me best here, as always."

"As always? You mean you were doing your best when you forgot that you had a rope with you?"

"Well, I did remember in the end and –"

"And you were doing your best when you and Gollum charged ahead barely noticing that I had fallen way behind? I could have drowned there for all you cared. May I remind you that I am the Ringbearer and, incidentally, your master?"

"Master, Ringbearer, yada, yada, yada," grumbled Sam under his breath.

"Come now, hobbitses!" Gollum cheerfully gesticulated southwards. "Fresh disappointments lie ahead!"

"Okay, okay. Are we travelling by night or by day at the moment? Just when are orcs more dangerous?"

Gollum shook his head. "Nice master mustn't worry his pretty little head about that. Leave it to Smeagol, yes, precious!"

"Whatever."

oOoOoOo

Around the same time in Fangorn Forest

"Are they still talking?" Merry sighed and tried to pick the sticky willies off his waistcoat. "What day is it even? I have completely lost track of time."

"You know what would be a great invention?" said Pippin. "A pocket watch that doesn't only tell the hour, but also the date."

Quickbeam shook his head, shedding a rain of bugs and caterpillars in the process. "My dear young Pippin, that would be beyond the skill of even the Lady of the Golden Wood to accomplish."

"What, more difficult than unsinkable boats?"

"Never mind," said Merry. "What kind of plan do you think they are discussing, Quickbeam?"

"Plan? Oh, I don't think there's going to be a plan exactly. Not as such. I think once they've made up their minds to get involved, the Ents will march out and then just do what springs to mind."

"Is that prudent?"

"It's how we've always done things. If it takes days to decide whether to act or not, can you imagine how long actual planning would take?"

"I can see now why Treebeard is a friend of Gandalf's," muttered Pippin.

"What was that?"

"Oh, nothing."

oOoOoOo

Barad-dûr, the canteen

"How's you ankle, Witchy?"

"It's fine."

"Only I noticed you're still limping a bit. Must be a bummer, being shot out of the sky like that. Does it hurt much?"

"I said it's fine!"

"Okay, okay." Jasûn put his tray of stir-fried worms and lava brew on the black formica table and slid into the booth beside the Witch King. "Using italics twice in the same sentence suggest otherwise, but whatever. Anyway, how's it coming?"

The Witch King removed a piece of peanut shell from his gum and grumbled something about strangling the bloody cook. "We've got it under control."

"So the Halflings have been recaptured by our forces?"

"No, but we know who has them."

"Oh, still that 'They're taking the hobbits to Isengard' malarkey?"

"Yes, and knowing the Ring in the hands of our ally is the second best thing to having it ourselves."

"And Saruman agreed to relinquish it to us?"

"Not in so many words. But the boss has been on the palantir with him all night."

"Hm." Jasûn twisted another mouthful of worms around his fork. "Shame we don't have any actual leverage, don't you think? I mean, if that blasted wizard decides to keep the Ring, what exactly are we going to do about it?"

"We'll think of something."

"When?"

"Just shut up and eat."

oOoOoOo

Still in Rohan

"What do you mean, leave? Now? Whatever for?"

"Theoden, Theoden," said Gandalf. "Isn't it obvious? I need to go and get Erkenbrandt and all those scattered warriors."

"Gandalf, we have literally this very minute been told they are on their way to Helm's Deep."

"I bet he isn't."

"Even if he isn't already, Erkenbrandt knows to rally there when he can."

"Maybe he'll forget."

"What?"

"Maybe he can't remember the way."

"Gandalf, it's his own fortress!"

"Nevertheless, I must speed away on Shadowfax this very moment. I have great need of haste."

"Care to tell me why?"

"Oh, for pity's sake!" Gandalf's eyes flashed in anger. "I forgot my pipe at Edoras. I'll be back as soon as I can."

"But–"

"JUST RIDE ALREADY TO HELM'S DEEP AND BAR THE FLIPPING DOORS! SURELY YOU CAN MANAGE THAT!"

oOoOoOo

Meanwhile in Isengard

Saruman briefly considered locking up the palantir in the safe but decided he couldn't be bothered walking up all those stairs again, so he just left it in an empty biscuit tin on the kitchen counter. Then he looked out the window at the utter destruction below. So, okay, this hadn't gone quite according to plan. But never mind, orcs were three a penny, and besides he had just seen in the stone that Gandalf was foolishly taking the whole Rohirric host to Isengard with the vague promise that there they might see unspecified strange things.

"I'll give them strange," Saruman hissed. "Just wait and see." But he couldn't help feeling that he had lost control of the whole situation and that maybe, just maybe, he had left out a few crucial factors in his calculations.

Down by the wreckage of the gates two hobbits sat, smoking like chimneys.

Legolas wrinkled his exquisite nose. "Jeez, Pippin, have you never heard about the dangers of passive smoking? Give me some air!"

However, since Gimli and Aragorn happily joined in the reckless air pollution, Legolas figuratively held his nose and sat down beside them. It was good to catch up with friends after all, and the catering was better than at Edoras. Before long – no, tell a lie, after a lengthy period of battle talk and general gossip, they were summoned by Gandalf.

"Come on, lads, we're all going to see Saruman now. But I must warn you, he has this freaking hypnotic voice that can seriously mess with your heads. It's very dangerous."

"Shouldn't we better stay here then," asked Gimli, "since there is no actual need for us to be there? Can't you talk with him alone?"

"Oh, nonsense, I want everybody to come along. You never know what might happen."

"That's precisely what bothers me here," said Gimli.

Aragorn cast him a stern look. "You heard Gandalf," he said. "To the tower, chop, chop."

oOoOoOo

Some time later in Barad-dûr

"And can you believe those idiots at the White Council never even asked themselves what had happened to the Orthanc palantir?"

Expecting approval, the Witch King looked at his fellow nazgûl. Jordûn and Rûmeo appeared suitably impressed, but Khamûl scoffed.

"Really? How do you know that?"

"Well, they had all their meetings at Isengard in the very same chamber where Saruman had stashed it, and since he always forgets to log out, the palantir was permanently on stand-by. It just took a little trick to listen in on all their conversations. I had Mouthy keep minutes. Haha, the little halfwits!"

The Witch King slapped his thighs and roared with laughter but pulled himself together quickly when Sauron entered the room.

"Well then, gentlemen," said the Dark Lord, "let's have a wee glimpse, shall we?" He lifted the cover off the palantir and everyone took seats around the table. Nothing happened.

"Hey, what's going on here?"

"Oh, I beg your pardon, your Darklordship, it's password protected now. I felt that we should improve our cybersecurity." The Mouth of Sauron leaned over the stone and whispered, "Password 123. There, your Darklordship."

The palantir lit up and a face swam into focus.

"Hey, that's not Saruman. It's one of them halfpints!"

"Thank you for pointing that out, Jûnior." Sauron's voice was carefully calm but he cast the youngest nazgûl a withering look. He turned his monocled eye back to the palantir. In his most menacing tone, he said, "Tell Saruman it's not for him. I will send for it at once. Do you understand? Say just that."

He rubbed his hands as he leaned back in his chair. "There now, gentlemen! We know where the Ring is, and this very night it shall be mine! Witchy, get a fell beast saddled!"

"May I just point out," said the Mouth of Sauron, "that you are jumping to conclusions a little? Shouldn't you at least have questioned the Halfling? After all there were four of them, and you didn't even ask his name."

"Nonsense, nonsense. Saruman captured the ringbearer and made him face me. Why else would a Halfling be looking into the stone? It was obviously meant as a torture."

"It's not that obvious to me," insisted Mouth. "Perhaps a captured Halfling has escaped in Orthanc and has found the stone by chance, or perhaps–"

"Always with your doom and gloom, Mouth. Cheer up! Well, gentlemen, I think this calls for a celebratory round of Trivial Pursuit, don't you think?"