Different problems, one solution

Ever since her visions turned to nightmares, Heather had become blind to the far future.

While that didn't affect her much, it meant that her extra activities lessened considerably. She had to rely on letters and owls from people and then busying herself by poking her nose in country affairs. Her government officials had all become used to her restless days and just rolled their eyes and sighed. There was a rumor that they reserved budget problems and really tricky proposals for her, but Heather was sure that was just a rumor…right?

Ciaran managed to distract her by pestering her for sword tricks that he solemnly watched and tried to imitate – with an unnerving amount of success. Most of the time, however, Ciaran usually pestered Luna or Draco and that left Heather alone and bored.

A bloody dangerous state, Draco would say.

Once, she'd almost caused a riot among the merchants by gossiping in the market about new, possible embargo's to be applied to Gondor – which while not completely true, did have a grain of truth in it.

But that was besides the point.

The point was that Heather mainly focused her boundless energy on Guiomer, Aedan and the government. When that was settled, she still had those extra activities to keep her happy and occupied. The removal of one of her main foci, along with the absence of the little things made her really restless.

Draco recognized the signs, especially after Hermione and Luna kicked her out of the planning for the newspaper when it became clear that while managing a country was somewhat of a natural talent for Heather, she had absolutely no clue when it came to managing a newspaper business. That had made his mind wander to a contingency plan he'd created especially for moments like these, an entire box full of Ancient Runes puzzles to occupy her mind with, when the letter came.

He could practically feel their small family exhale in relief.

"I feel terrible for being relieved," Guiomer confessed to him as they watched Heather pack her bags and argue with Kreacher at the same time. "But if she had stayed for a week more without Aedan to tutor, she would have caused a riot in Tabernia City."

Just to be contrary, Draco said, "Of course you're terrible." Guiomer shot him an exasperated look and he continued dryly with, "Their King is probably being possessed or dosed with a slow acting poison and you're acting relieved."

While Guiomer sighed and walked off to look for a more sympathetic person, Draco rolled his eyes and had to wonder at whatever made Guiomer think that he would make soothing noises and assure Guiomer of his humanity.

At second glance, maybe the brat was sleep-deprived. He'd gone to Luna. Did he forget Luna's unbelievably blunt truth telling?

The point was proven when Guiomer walked away from the encounter with a more pronounced slouch of depression.

Draco looked back to the spectacle in front of him. Heather and Hermione were now arguing which book to bring in case she ever needed to refer to one.

Feeling very put upon and unappreciated, Draco interrupted. "She could always summon Kreacher for whatever reference material she needs, Granger," he said. The argument tapered off to embarrassed silence. Draco determinedly plowed on. "And stop that ridiculous care package you're making, Kreacher. Potter needs to hurry. The longer she delays, the deeper that thing roots into King Theoden."

Heather laughed, shameless as always while Hermione blushed with embarrassment.

Theodred's letter was very very urgent. That didn't mean that Heather should be rash.

Her intuition, which she relied more and more ever since her precognition got clouded over with nightmares, had prodded her to go to Draco.

At first, it had bewildered her when it had first happened. Now though, she just took it in stride.

Her shock was understandable, Heather thought as she walked. She prided herself on knowing most of everything in Saldia, but she didn't know anything of what Draco had been doing.

Draco had given the Order and the Brotherhood members instructions to send him notes and messages that they considered noteworthy or important. This resulted in Draco having a better grasp of things outside of the country than anyone else, even Meiran, who was in charge of Foreign affairs. (They didn't have to obey Draco, but they just humored him until it became a habit to send something to him.)

"Draco," Heather said, poking her head through his door. "I'm going to Edoras, Rohan. Do you have anything for me?"

The man in question was perusing his papers and journals blindfolded. His gift had evolved as hers had deteriorated with the onslaught of darkness.

"Border patrol has intensified," he said. "The only ones who can enter are people from the Brotherhood, the Order and the Women's League. Anyone who cannot speak in Rohirric will be viewed with suspicion."

Oh, of course their people could speak Rohirric. It had become somewhat of a part of their Basic Lessons course with the amount of merchants and tourists that passed by Saldia, along with the amount of children that greeted them.

The knowledge of Rohirric was thanks to Prince Theodred. Not just anybody could speak that language. For anybody else, the border patrol had tightened.

Heather blinked at him several times. "Bugger. I'll need a color-changing potion then," she said. "Do you have some in stock? My hair is rather distinctive, you know."

Draco gave her a look that was no less effective because his eyes were covered. "Am I the sort that keeps that around?" he demanded. "I'm not a potions shop, Potter!"

Heather stifled a grin as she ran out. His temper really had been getting worse. One of her more reliable visions had told her that he would get better once Sauron was defeated.

She hoped it was soon. That Dark Lord was taking a toll on all of them.

Aedan was assigned to the care of Prince Legolas.

It was a rough and dangerous terrain, and it really was no place for a boy of eleven. If it wasn't for his blood and how much his relatives loved the wild, he would have gotten ill, or caused someone an injury of some sort within the first day.

As it was, Legolas merely said, "You have a remarkable sort of patience for your age."

Hah!

Aedan wanted to say that having Ciaran as a younger brother required a remarkable sort of patience. The little brat wanted to know everything.

He bit his tongue and just smiled.

Every night, he was given the most accurate map of the wilds and he had to use his gift to check the progress of their capture of the creature Gollum. It didn't give him the headache it gave his father, nor did it give him nightmares like his grandmother. It just gave him a tingling at the back of his neck and the really strong urge to sneeze.

"We're getting really close," he finally said the long awaited words to his fellow travelers. "Tomorrow, he's going to pass by that stream. We'll just have to ambush him."

There was a susurrus of pleasure and everybody settled down to prepare for the next day's exertion. Lindel, one of the more friendlier elves, started to sing and then there was an entire chorus of humming elves.

The vision happened as the song was ending. Perhaps that was how Avia always felt when confronted with a vision? Aedan didn't know. All he knew was that it was awful to watch.

The vision showed midday, and a sudden cry of "orc scouts!". Lindel, the beautiful, kind elf, was the first to fall. His face was eaten by the warg that was mounted by an orc. It was fast paced and brutal. They lost half of their party, but the scouts went down eventually. The stench of the dead was overwhelming.

Aedan came back to the present with a shudder, tears wetting his cheeks and making it sting with every blow of the cold air. He found himself situated far from the camp, hair being softly patted by Legolas and hands anxiously rubbed by Aragorn. Only the both of them were there, the rest of the part was politely pretending to be blind, deaf and oblivious.

"Are you alright now?" Aragorn asked. "The vision has ended?"

Aedan nodded, unable to bring himself to speak because if he unclenched his teeth, he knew he would start wailing for his father.

"I'm glad," he continued. "If any harm had come to you, I'm not sure I could survive your grandmother's sword."

Legolas's soft voice interrupted. "Was that your first vision that came unbidden, Aedan?" he asked.

Aunt Enid's lessons on controlling one's emotions helped Aedan master himself. He managed to answer, "No. but they are usually short and nothing so…brutal." Visceral would have been a better adjective but Aedan didn't even want to think of what images he would associate with that word.

Both men were firm and no-nonsense. It helped Aedan's nerves immensely. He even managed to tell them of the orc scouts that would possibly ambush them by midday the next day.

Gandalf just watched and worried.

Eomer met Lady Gryffon in the street and nearly didn't recognize her, if it weren't for Promise strapped on her belt.

It wasn't because she was wearing the loose, comfortable gray clothes of the Women's League. Nor was it because of the bow and quiver strapped to her back – because really, the idea of the Lady behind a bow is terrifying. There are stories of how bad her aim could get with it.

No, truly it was because the Lady's multi-colored hair had gone and turned into flaxen blonde. The kind of blonde that was prominent in Rohan.

His mind blanked out for two minutes. That was excuseable too because in her old coloring, she looked exotic, beautiful and utterly unattainable. In her new blonde coloring, she looked just like a native from Rohan, with a foreign ancestor or two because of the eyes and the delicate bone structure of her face. And he was half-tempted to ask for her bride price.

Eomer regained his senses within another two beats and hastily kicked down that idea.

He was not suicidal, no matter what the Dunlendings say.

"My lady," he stammered out. "W-welcome to Edoras."

Gryffon's eyes were amused and Eomer thanked Manwe that she could not read minds. "I am well, and I do admire what Theodred has done to this place," she answered back in perfect Rohirric.

Eomer grinned. "I'll be sure to tell him that! My lady, how did you change the color of your hair?" he just had to ask.

She laughed. "As spontaneous as ever, Eomer. My brother Hodur has a dozen potions to change ones features," she said merrily.

They chatted as they headed towards the Brotherhood branch at the outskirts of Edoras. That was also how long it took for Eomer to notice how…wasted…she looked.

"My lady," he said bluntly. "I hate to say this, but you look terrible."

Gryffon laughed long and hard. "Oh, Eomer," she chuckled, wiping a tear from her eye. "I have never met anyone as blunt as you aside from Eilys."

He just shrugged and looked at her. "Gryffon shook her head and patted his shoulder. "I am not ill, dear student. This is just a matter of unavoidable circumstances. This will go away soon," she said.

Fearghal saw her and gave a hasty salute. Theodred stormed in with Eowyn at his heels and the meeting started. The merry and joyful lady he walked with was replaced by the First Lady of Saldia, the stern and capable woman who used to arrange his schedule and pound him to the ground without breaking a sweat.

"When did it start?" she asked. "The state of his eyes. What does his breath smell like?"

The questions poured out and she took all answers like a Healer diagnosing an illness – which she was. Except this was a magical sort of disease.

Finally, she leaned back and sighed, steeping her fingers together and pursing her lips. Theodred nearly sat at the edge of his seat and Fearghal fidgeted in nervous, respectful silence. (Honestly, Eomer could understand the near hero-worship that the Brotherhood gave her. She was strong and beautiful.)

"This is not simple," she said finally, breaking the silence. "But it can be done. I just need your help," she paused. "All of you."

Here, she outlined her plan and, even if half of the things she talked about were completely so technical that he got lost two sentences in, she simplified it, like:

"Theodred, I need you to steal your fathers crown – "

"Eowyn, distract Grima Wormtongue, and no Eomer, you cannot kill him yet – "

"Fearghal, contact your men, prepare one platoon. And get me two healers to assist me – "

"Eomer, can you clear the Goldenhall? This will be messy and I don't want anyone running to the king."

She was like a hurricane, or a really powerful force of nature. Eomer ran to distract all the guards with a sudden weapons check-up and took away all footmen and maids by making the flour explode in the pantry and dying the washing blue.

The Goldenhall was clear and only Grima stayed, but Eowyn took care of that.

The heavy golden crown of their ancestors was removed and Lady Gryffon entered the king's bedchambers with two healers.

The scream that emerged from there raised the hairs at the back of his neck.

They were little things at first, but to Gandalf's eyes, they were alarming.

At the next day, when the vision came true, except it was not an ambush because they were prepared for it, Aedan flinched at the first charge and he had a hard time looking at any of the elves.

When he checked the map again because they were delayed what with burning the dead bodies, the boy's hands trembled and he went pale.

Small things, yes, but it was becoming clear that Aedan of Saldia had become traumatized and was afraid of his gift.

It was a frightening thing when it was obvious to Gandalf that the family gift was very powerful within Aedan.

"Aedan, may I speak with you for a moment?" Gandalf asked. Said boy looked at him with wide eyes before grinning in a confident way that was a shadow of the boy's old, charming smile that had no fear at all.

"What can I help you with, Gandalf?" he asked politely.

Gandalf's brows furrowed because while he was the most patient Istari, there were some things he had no knowledge of, like interrogating a really young wizard. He decided to go with the blunt approach. It never lost style, after all.

"What did you see," he started. "That made you so frightened of the gifts you have?"

Ah, big mistake. The boy bristled like a cat that had its fur stroked backwards.

"I'm not afraid," he blustered. "I'm just…coming to terms with something."

Gandalf's eyebrows went up. Aedan was frighteningly like his grandmother. Direct confrontations seemed to go the opposite way and made him even more defensive.

With better understanding, Gandalf tried another tactic. "Did you know why your father allowed you to come on this journey?" he asked, getting the boy's attention. At a shake of his head, Gandalf plodded on. "Because you were abusing your gift."

Stricken silence. Aedan was pale.

"You don't abuse gifts as heavy as yours," he added, looking into the boy's green eyes to make sure he got the point of it. "The future is not something to be trifled with. There's always a price, Aedan, every time you use a gift. Your grandmother cannot sleep long, your father has migraines. What is your price, Aedan of Saldia?"

Aedan took a moment to answer, swallowing several times. "I-I do not know yet. Uncle Hodur said that my mother's blood protects me from the adverse effects of the gift until I reach seventeen. Aunt Enid said that's when my father's blood would get stronger," he said.

Gandalf spared a moment to marvel and wonder what exactly Cailyn's race was before he tucked that errant thought to the back of his mind. Now was not the time.

"Use your gift only to find a third path," he advised. He couldn't do more than that. The rest was Guiomer's duty.

Aedan's eyes were not so frightened anymore and Gandalf felt some measure of success.

Heather knew it would be complicated.

Theoden's crown was the keystone for the spell, because according to Theodred, he had not seen his father remove the crown. At all. Not since the possession took place. Then, she had to wean the slow acting potions from the man, because Eowyn said that his breath often smelled like thistlegrass. (Heather may not have been a potions master but a quick note to confirm her theories to Draco assured her that Theoden was being potioned into obedience. Otherwise, he'd have fought back.) Lastly, two healers to hold him down – because she couldn't spare even that bit of attention – while she tattooed him with Runes for healing, shielding and strength.

The process wasn't painful. She needed the king held down for when she finally removed the parasite. The absence of the keystone made her job easier. (Heather knew she'd have to completely destroy it, but later.) It was the absence of the parasite and the speedy repairing done by the runes that would hurt.

"By magic's sake," Heather gasped when she finished. "Are you two alright?"

The two healers holding the king down nodded firmly. "Is it done, my lady?" one of them asked.

She shook her head. "It is your turn. I healed him magically but I am no healer. I do not know if I caused him any further damage by what I have done."

They moved at that order, opening their healing kits and examining the slumped over king. Heather fidgeted a bit at the side, worrying if she'd somehow skipped a step and done the king irreparable harm.

"He's well," the woman said. "Just tired. Though…" she trailed off.

Heather gave her a look. "Go on," she demanded.

"May we bandage what you…inked on him, lady? It's bleeding rather heavily," she pointed out.

Ah, the tattoos. "You only need to add anti-inflammatory salves to the bandages," Heather explained.

Heather wanted to collapse and roll over in relief. But there were still other ends to tie. Like Grima Wormtongue and the keystone.

"I'll leave you to it," she told them. "I'll send someone here to sit with him."

Neither of them paid her any attention.

Heather didn't allow anything else to distract her while she apparated to the Brotherhood building. Fearghal saluted and she gave him a smile.

"All is well, my lady?" he asked.

"Yes, all is well. You can now dismiss your men. Thank you, commander," she said. "Can you send Theodred and his cousins to the kings bedchambers? It would not do for the king to wake up alone."

He gave a hasty nod and Heather moved to take care of the crown Theodred stole. In particular, the red gemstone winking at her that was lodged at the back of the crown. It was the size of her pinky finger and obviously not part of the ctown.

A simple removal (which wasn't really that simple because truly, it seemed to have been welded to the metal), and Heather threw it into the air, followed by a powerful Reducto.

A split-second after she cast, her intuition told her that was a really bad idea.

Sheer desperation made her fuel the Elder Wand to manipulate the Protego to turn into a sphere around the keystone. And not a second too late as well, because the strain on her magic told her how powerful the explosion would have been.

"Oh, Merlin," Heather whispered, legs wobbling as her actions caught up to her. "Oh, Mordred and Morgana. I nearly obliterated Edoras."

The keystone was obviously a trap for someone who might have tried the methods she did.

"Whoever this wizard is," she hissed as anger overtook her fear. "Better not show himself to me soon or else he'd get a piece of my mind."

There was, of course, the method of casting legilimency and driving the possessor out but that would have left Theoden's mind weak and susceptible to mental manipulations. Heather liked her better; painful, slow yet a permanent cure.

But this trap just ruined her tiny bit of happiness. Screw Grima Wormtongue. Theoden would have to deal with the worm himself!

"My lady?" an Order member asked. "Are you well?"

Heather stood up on firm feet. "No. Where are the training courts? I need to maim something."

Wide-eyed, the healer scurried to lead her to it.

Luna was with Hermione when a sort of…whisper happened that caused both of them to look up from their work and frown.

"Did you…feel that?" Hermione asked. Her soul sounded troubled.

Luna's expressive face was wrinkled in distress. "I more than felt it. I heard it. Something about finding something," she said softly. "I feel unclean, Hermione. That voice was foul."

By unspoken agreement, they packed their papers and tucked it away. They were a bit too disturbed to continue.

"By the way," Hermione said, blatantly changing the subject. "Elladan liked the idea of a newspaper. He wants one copy of every issue sent to him."

Luna mustered up a smile. "That's brilliant, isn't it? It's working exactly like how we wanted it to. Someone might even want to duplicate it," she said.

They headed to the hot springs, still talking. Hopefully, it would be a slow day and no one would eavesdrop. Right, fat chance. This was Saldia.

"We might have to sell the newspaper press," Luna warned. "They can't duplicate newspapers without the press, Hermione. And those special dried reeds you're using as paper."

Hermione shrugged, lulled by the heat of the water and too relaxed to work up any thought to it. "Schematics," she muttered lazily. "I'll cross that bridge when I get there," she said.

Luna laughed a little at how Heather-like that sounded.

DELETED SCENES:

Elrond getting the news

Perhaps it was a bit remiss of him, but it took a while for Elrond to notice that one of his twin sons was acting a bit oddly.

Sighing and buying trinkets. Perusing old books in the library. Asking for philosophical debates and such. And writing so, so many letters.

It was probably the fact that the twins rarely stayed for too long in Rivendell. But that sort of excuse was a bit weak. In fact, they stayed for a longer time in Rivendell than usual because Elladan was researching something in the library!

Finally, after two months of this…pattern happening, Elrond caved and turned to Elrohir.

"What on Arda has happened to your brother?" he asked.

Elrohir blinked, giving him the expression that spoke, Really? You don't know?

"He's courting, Ada," Elrohir said blankly, as though a bit surprised that he was asking. Of course Elrond was asking! Nobody exactly told him!

This was the trouble of being a well known precognitive. Everybody just expected you to … wait…

"Courting?" Elrond choked. "Truly? Who?"

That same blank look was shot at him. Elrond reigned in the urge to scowl.

"Enid of Saldia," was answered.

Elrond's mind blanked a bit, remembering the fierce, travel-stained lady that had stormed in when Gryffon was tied down in his infirmary. His memory may have been good, but what really stood out to him was how…wildly untamable she seemed.

Elladan was courting her?

Oh, Ulmo!

My graduation is on the 21st… gosh, how time flies.

Sorry to people who wanted more Luna and Hermione. This chapter was really getting long though and I wanted to sleep.

Questions:

How advanced is Saldia?

Hermione and the others focus mainly on magical developments. Their citizens are usually the ones who have the ideas and Draco and Hermione go over it and make it happen.

Nothing too much. There might be mills, and such, but no asphalt mixers and all that. Electricity is getting there, but it is slow going, since people don't see the need yet.

When did Aedan get his hair colored?

Aedan got his hair colored when he was eight.

How were such huge buildings built? (via magic or otherwise)

This is in conjunction with the first question.

Any advancements probably reflect on their old world. (Hermione would know more than Draco). That includes construction. Nope, no cranes or something, just some Ancient Egyptian methods made more efficient.

So, no magic in the building.

Where is the Bell Tower?

Ah, that question. When it was built, it was placed in-between six districts, meant to be where everyone could hear it. Not so center, but right above the main entrance to the tunnels. It is near the administrative building. Hermione's added runes makes it heard everywhere, regardless of distance. She's brilliant like that.

And this time, I have a question. Would you fellows like more character introspection? I could totally do that.

Special mention to the following who actually did the challenge and gave me a lot of city names to work with:

KrystylSky, Charlemagne Gryffis, earendillion, Beloved Daughter, Vandun, nafara, MyDearGoddessofthemoonandsun, Anime Princess, goddess39, Irda, Madrigal-in-training, zeynel, GuestSnowy, TiannaMVA.

Thanks guys!

Please R & R.

Love, Lady Hallen

P.S. Any of those extra-ordinarily long questions should be directed to my tumblr. Just created it for this fanfic. (Gosh, imagine that!) Link is in my profile.