~Wash Away~
As they reached the fringes of the forest of Fangorn, Legolas breathed a sigh of contentment. He had become sick of the stone of Helms Deep and longed for the peace of the trees to ease his mind of the events of the past eighteen hours.
"We have about another forty or so miles of riding until we reach Isengard." Gandalf said as the King's company halted before the trees for a moment to rest their horses.
"Ahh this accursed forest again." Grumbled Gimli from behind him.
"This accursed forest has rid us of the remaining Urak-hai of Saruman." Aerlaer said as she walked up to them. "It will be wilder now for the pain it has endured but I think we will be safe for it does not feel hateful towards the company, and the trees already know us from our last visit."
"Maybe but they were trees from a different part of the forest. These trees do not know us." Gimli replied worriedly.
"They will sense there are Elves in company and if you keep your axe down, you have nothing to fear." Legolas reassured him. "Glad am I to be near trees again." He added happily, for there was joy in his heart, a lightness.
"As am I." Aerlaer murmured in agreement. "Save for doors and tables, the Helm was nice but it was…"
"Too much stone." Legolas finished and she nodded.
"Let us move on." Called out Gandalf and he lead the way, with the King riding by his side, trailed by the others along an overgrown path under the dark, knotted, ancient trees.
The path was narrow and they could only walk or trot, for the twisted roots of trees and wild plantation. They had not travelled far when Legolas noticed Aerlaer shifting back to Elf form. Soon she had begun to drop back behind Arod. Legolas turned his head back to find the elleth now walked behind Éomer, on Firefoot, who came last in their small procession. Usually Aerlaer walks ahead if not beside; she is not one to drop back.
Carefully, he took stock of her. She seemed alright. The elleth walked lightly enough and with ease, head turned listening to Éomer as he launched back into their earlier conversation, of riding manoeuvres in battle. Éomer caught him glancing back and gave him a cheerful smile which he returned politely. He had decided the Rohirrim rider of the mark was a good and decent man, much like the likes of Aragorn but perhaps more laid back. He was easily likeable and he treated Aerlaer as a comrade, not someone to gaze at wonderingly as some of the younger riders did. He turned back to focus on what lay ahead and let himself relax as their path wound deeper into the forest.
He listened to the forest, the trees were talking to each other as they had the day they had sought Merry and Pippin. He wished he knew what they said, maybe an older Elf who had lived amongst trees for many millennia, such as his father might understand what these trees spoke of but he was too young.
He could mind-speak with them if he wished just as Aerlaer could, but no more, although the trees of the Greenwood were in tune to the Elves that dwelt there and would sometimes move their branches to catch any who should leap wrong and risk falling.
The spiders had made the trees of the Greenwood sullen though, along with the sickness, and not many felt the love of the Elves who could no longer walk beneath them for fear of the greater perils which now also dwelt in the Woodland Realm.
Legolas let out a quiet sigh, realising this was the first time in a long time he had thought of his homeland, and, of his father. I guess this forest does remind me of home, although it does not feel so dangerous even though the trees here are more hostile and it isn't thinking of her for once, as I once would have when thinking of home.
He had been mentally referring to Tauriel, the Silvan elleth, but unbidden his mind flashed back to the last time he was in Fangorn, of rainbow spheres from waterfall mist shining in the morning sun. Of creamy skin and hair darkened by the droplets of water which ran off it. Of bright and curious silvery, indigo-blue eyes. Oh Manwë, I do not need these thoughts, my heart has dealt with enough this past eve and somehow survived it. He decided to distract himself by speaking to Gimli.
"The trees are speaking to each other again." He told the Dwarf, who he noticed seemed quite tense. "I wish there were time to walk among them and perhaps learn what they say to one another."
"No, no! Let us leave them. I think I understand their thought already for the air feels all too warm and close and foreboding. Their speech would be of crushing and strangling all who go on two legs." Gimli stressed and Legolas tried not to laugh at the Dwarf's needless stressing.
"Nay we are safe Gimli. Arod has four legs not two and even so, we are not Orcs. The trees have let us pass safely thus far. They are good trees." He reassured.
"Hmph, well you might think them wonderful but I have seen a far greater wonder in this land. More beautiful than any grove or glade that ever grew." Gimli said and then sighed.
"What was it?" Legolas asked intrigued.
"The caverns of Helms Deep." Gimli said reverently.
"Too much stone for my liking, I did not venture further into the deep than the armoury."
"Then you did not behold the caverns! Dear Elf, you do not know what you have missed for they are vast and beautiful. There would be an endless pilgrimage of Dwarves just to gaze upon their beauty, if such things were known to be. They would pay pure gold for naught but a brief glimpse."
Legolas laughed. "And I would pay pure gold to be excused and double to be let out if I strayed in!"
"Truly Legolas, you speak like a fool, but I will overlook it for you have not seen. Tell me now the caverns where your King dwells in Mirkwood, sorry Greenwood, would you find them fair, because I can tell you now they are a hovel compared to the caverns I have seen here. These are immeasurable halls filled with the music of water as it tinkles into pools as fair as Kheled-zaram in the starlight."
Legolas tried not to take offence to Gimli calling his home a hovel. "Did not Dwarves help carve out that hovel in Greenwood?" He said with a hint of sarcasm.
"Yes, they did but these caverns truly are better than any I have ever seen so forgive me for insulting your home, Legolas." Legolas thought of the caverns of his homeland. They were beautiful and although he was quite certain Gimli had never set foot in the Greenwood a sudden memory flashed back of a ginger haired Dwarf in Thorin's company he and his guard had captured.
"I've met your father." Legolas mused out loud. "I always thought you looked a little familiar for a Dwarf."
"Indeed, you have and you would not want to know what my father thought of you, Princeling." Gimli chortled.
"Tell me? I am curious now." Legolas smirked as he thought of exactly what kind of impression he would have left on Glóin. Again, I am thinking of home and not just home but that time, and it is not bothering me.
"I will tell you if you agree to come see the caverns in the deep with me so you too can behold their wonder." Gimli said cunningly.
"That is not a fair trade." Legolas replied and then smirked as an idea formed in his mind. "I will join you to view these caverns in Helms Deep if you tell me your father's thoughts and accompany me visiting Fangorn." He countered.
"You strike a hard bargain, Elf." Gimli said and Legolas let him think on it. "Well provided we both come out safely on the other side of all this peril I suppose I could take you up on that." Gimli replied. "My father was right in saying your kind are cunning but I believe now he was wrong to say your kind cannot be trusted. And you are not quite the jumped up, imperious Elf Princeling he described you as, although…you do have your moment's. Gimli chuckled and Legolas found himself laughing with him.
"But did he not have one good thing to say about me?" Legolas asked between their light laughter. He quite enjoyed the banter he could have with the Dwarf, even when he had lost their Orc slaying game. He would get his revenge however and best him, and Aerlaer.
"He might have." Gimli snickered.
"What did he say?" Legolas pressed, even more curious to know what good a Dwarf would say about an Elf who had thrown him in a dungeon. Gimli just laughed loudly, drawing the attention of Aerlaer and Éomer behind them.
"Gimli, what in Arda is so funny?" Aerlaer questioned and Legolas heard her begin laughing too along with Éomer, at the laughing Dwarf.
"It must be amusing, look Aerlaer, from here I can see tears of mirth on his round cheeks!" chortled Éomer.
"Legolas what did you say to him?" Aerlaer asked trying to rein in her mirth but failing.
"I asked him what the one good thing his father, who I once locked in my father's dungeons, said about me." Legolas shrugged. "He has only so far answered in laughter, I am nearly fearful to hear the true answer!" Gimli laughed harder at his words.
"Oh, come Gimli, we all must know now!" Aerlaer said to him. By now the entire company had been interrupted by the laughter behind them and Aragorn had turned back to watch them too, a smirk on his face.
Legolas noticed as The King, and Gamling, looked at each other a little confused by the mayhem behind them. Gandalf turned back too, a small smile on his lips before he shook his head and turned to the King. "Elves and Dwarves, do not try to make sense of them, just go with it."
To Legolas's relief, Gimli had stopped laughing enough to finally give him an answer although it was interrupted by laughter. "My father… He said you had the most … lovely hair he had seen!" Gimli laughed. "He said it was like a pale gold thread in sunlight and then in starlight it was like silver and that he very much wished my mother had hair as fair as yours!" He fell back into laughter and was joined by Aerlaer, Éomer and Aragorn.
Legolas was speechless. It was a complement but such a strange one. He imagined this Dwarf excited about his pale, blonde hair and it was absurd but quite funny. He grinned and then laughed too, everyone else's mirth infectious.
"I think when this is all said and done and we do come out unscathed on the other side, I should like to meet the Dwarves and Glóin again if only to bestow on him the same gift you were given by Galadriel." He snickered.
"What gift was that? Éomer called to him."
"A lock of her golden hair." Aerlaer snickered. "Which is illogical." Legolas heard her whisper. "The exact colour of her hair I have upon my own head except, mine spark." She grinned up at the man.
"They do?" he asked amazed and Legolas turned back curiously, unsure what she meant. No, did her hair not look as if it scintillated in Lórien? When she had argued with that fool, Orophin? He shook his head, trying to remember if it had, or if it had been the morning sunlight. Her hair had looked almost spun from pale gold as the dawn light had touched it that morning he had awoken beside her in Edoras.
"Gimli! Would not your father prefer the array of colours of Aerlaer's fine hair?" Éomer asked curiously.
"Ai, he probably would." Gimli chortled. "Aerlaer you must journey to the mines of my people one day so they can gaze upon your hair!"
Aerlaer grinned back at him. "I would like that." She said sincerely. Slowly their laughter subsided and Legolas turned to face ahead of him again just in time to catch the King speaking with Gamling and Gandalf.
"I don't fully understand it but it does lighten my heart to hear four different kins, sharing in such mirth. If only all of the races of Middle Earth could get along in such a way."
"Ah wait until you meet the Hobbits, then the real mischief will begin, you can count on it!" Gandalf replied to the King. The Hobbits? We are going to see the hobbits! Legolas thought happily. Sunlight filtered down through a rare gap in the tree canopies and he glanced down to the strands of hair which fell over his shoulder. It is like pale gold. He smirked to himself.
"Legolas what are you doing?" Aerlaer asked and he startled, and looked down at her trying to mask the embarrassment of being caught admiring his own hair. When had she moved to walk beside Arod?
"Nothing." He said hurriedly and she looked at him clearly not buying it. "There was a, a grasshopper upon my tunic." He quickly made up on the spot and she looked at his tunic quizzically. "It's gone now." he added.
"I'm sure it is." Aerlaer said and then smirked and dropped her voice, eyes glinting mischievously. "My how your hair glints like gold in the sunlight." She snickered and gave him a sidelong look, her smirk still firmly in place.
"Oh, hush you." He hissed but he was grinning too. Perhaps she likes blondes. I can only hope. He thought, still grinning, feeling the lightest of heart he had ever felt in a long time as they rode on now in silence.
…
The forest began to thin out and Aerlaer paused to look back on it before they left it. She liked it here she decided. The trees were wilder than those she was used to but she had sensed earlier they had rejoiced in the sound of hers and her companion's laughter earlier.
She tuned forward again and smiled to herself as Legolas turned around in the saddle to look back at the forest also but she was not prepared for his reaction to the quiet trees she had just gazed upon.
"Manwë! There are eyes! Eyes looking out from the shadows of the boughs!" The path had widened a mile ago and he began to turn Arod around, his eyes bright and curious. Aerlaer turned around again and saw the eyes peering at them from the trees.
"I have never seen such eyes. What are they?" She asked the other Elf.
"I do not know, I want to find out."
"No! No! You Elves do as you please in your madness, but I'm having none of it. Legolas stop and let me get off this horse first! I have no interest in eyes!" Gimli cried out." Aerlaer barely noticed her friend, entirely focussed on those strange eyes as she edged closer.
"Stay!" Gandalf's voice commanded loudly and Aerlaer stopped and felt Arod halt right behind her. Legolas Greenleaf and Aerlaer Elfhorse, do not go back into the woods. Not yet, it is not your time." Aerlaer gave a huff of annoyance and heard Legolas sigh disappointedly but as they began to turn, the owners of the eyes emerged from the shadows, watching them curiously.
There were three of them, as tall as trolls, Aerlaer thought in wonder. They had strong bodies like that of stout young trees and were clad in soft greys and browns of what material, Aerlaer could not tell. Their limbs were very long and their hands had many fingers. The hair upon their heads was stiff but they had long, soft flowing beards of moss. Aerlaer tried to make eye contact with them but they were looking solemnly towards the way in which the riders were heading.
Suddenly they brought their fingers to their mouths and whistled ringing calls which reminded Aerlaer of a musical horn. She swung around as the calls were answered and more of these strange creatures emerged before them. She heard the three Rohirrim men beginning to draw their swords but Gandalf raised a cautioning hand.
"You need no weapons, these are but herdsmen and they are not enemies. Indeed, they are not concerned with us at all." As if they had been listening to the Wizard, the creatures strode back into the trees and disappeared. Aerlaer, compelled to learn more of them, started to follow them. "Aerlaer, stay." Gandalf warned her and she stopped again.
"Herdsmen Gandalf? Where are their flocks? What are they? It is plain to me these creatures are not new to you." The King spoke warily.
"They are the shepherds of the trees." Replied Gandalf.
"They are Ents!" Legolas said in wonder and Aerlaer's eyes widened. Ents!
"Come now, we must keep moving, we are nearly there." Gandalf urged them and reluctantly but to Gimli's relief, Legolas pushed Arod forward and Aerlaer followed beside Éomer, forcing herself not to look back again.
The Kings small company now took a road away from the forest and towards the fords. They could now travel at a faster pace and Aerlaer shifted back into horse form and settled into an energy saving lope for she was slowly becoming wearier, although she would not admit it to the others.
She had used a significant amount of energy healing the Rohirrim during and after the battle. She had used a third of her life force saving the lives of twenty on top of healing them and although she knew she was still in the safe zone, as Elrond dubbed it, she had not had a moment to rest and restore her energy.
They covered more land swifter now, but it was still another four hours before they reached the fords.
"We will rest a moment for the horses." Théoden announced and Aerlaer gratefully shifted back to Elf form and sank down beside a large rock, resting her back against it and closed her eyes for a second.
"Aerlaer, are you sure you are well?" She heard the soft voice of the other Elf, tinged with concern and opening her eyes looked up into his worried ones.
"I am well, I am just making the most of this break in travelling." She said, and mustered a bright smile. He looked searchingly into her eyes, worry still evident in them.
"Are you sure?" he asked, still not convinced.
"I am. You should rest too, for the sake of resting." She encouraged him but he shook his head.
"No, I will keep watch although I feel we are safe. To look down upon the fords, they are quite disheartening; I thought they would be filled with water but instead they are but shoals." He murmured wistfully.
"They usually are." Éomer said as he came to stand beside Legolas. "Many fair things Saruman has destroyed and it seems he has devoured the springs of Isen too." The man said dejectedly.
"So it would seem." Said Gandalf as he sat down upon a low rock and removed his hat.
"Once the horses are not blowing so hard we will ride down to what is left of the water and let them drink before we continue." Théoden said as he sat down next to Gandalf, followed by Aragorn and Gamling.
Aerlaer noticed Aragorn watching her suspiciously and turned away from him. He is no fool, he can see straight through my pretence. He was a healer himself and grew up with three healers. Thank goodness Elrohir or Elladan or worse, Elrond, are not here to give me a stern talking to. Although, she suspected she would get one from Aragorn very shortly. Her ruse was possibly up.
All too soon, the King urged them all up and back into their saddles. Aerlaer stood up reluctantly and stretched her arms out, shaking them, trying to wake herself up. She had gotten a very small amount of rest but she decided it should get her to Isengard.
Legolas seemed content enough for he did not look as worried as he caught her eye and gave her a quick smile, which caused her heart to jolt, mounted Arod and began talking idly to Éomer. Those two have struck it off well. She thought happily. She liked Éomer, he reminded her of her own brother, likeable and funny and loyal but a warrior through and through. She imagined Aearthor would have fit in well with the men of Rohan. Her heart tightened, remembering he would never meet them.
A hand on her shoulder scattered her saddened thoughts and she jumped, spinning around in fright. It was only Aragorn. Quickly she schooled her features into a mask of innocence, straightening up, lifting her chin, hoping to look as awake and bright as possible.
The Ranger looked at her, blatantly unimpressed, and she fought not to let her shoulders droop under his appraising gaze.
"You may have fooled Legolas, for now but you do not fool me mellon nin." He said very quietly. "How much did you use?" His eyes gave nothing away. How does he do that? He's not even an Elf and he hides his thoughts better than I!
"Only a third, really Aragorn, I am fine. The little rest we have just had was enough." She hoped she sounded convincing. Nothing gets past him. She thought with annoyance and he scrutinized her for a moment.
"We will see." He replied and shaking his head added. "For an Elf, you have very little self-preservation sometimes."
"Some might say I am reckless, but I promise you Aragorn I can still go on. I ran for eight days straight once, you know." She added, smirking, trying to make him see she did not need his fussing.
"Hmm and I recall a certain blonde Elf had to come to your rescue which I imagine he will again if you are foolish enough to reach your limits." He muttered quietly under his breath and before Aerlaer could ask what he meant about said blonde Elf, he shook his head again and walked away to Brego to mount up.
…
They travelled upon the dismal fords for a few miles and then Théoden called his company to halt. On the isle, they rode upon, there was a fresh mound of earth rising from the ground. Stones ringed it and many spears were set about it artfully.
"Here lie the men of the Mark, who fell near this place." Gandalf said respectfully.
"And here let them rest, and when their spears have rotted and rusted, long still may their mound stand and guard the fords of Isen." Éomer murmured reverently, bowing his head. Legolas gazed upon the great mound. If it had not been for the arrival of Gandalf and the remaining men of the Mark, perhaps he and the others who had survived Helms Deep, would have been buried thus so. Covered under dirt and rock. A shiver rippled through him. It had nearly been his fate, it could have been Aerlaer's.
"Is this your work Gandalf?" Théoden asked, cutting through Legolas's thoughts.
"Some of it is yes, but I had the help of Shadowfax, here and of others. I rode fast and far but I will say this for your comfort Théoden, many fell at the battle of the fords but fewer than rumour would have you believe. More were scattered than were slain." He said and Théoden nodded.
"I am glad to hear such tidings." He murmured with evident relief, and motioned them to continue on.
They crossed over the river, which only reached the bellies of the horses in its deepest part and climbed the further bank, leaving behind them the dismal fords. There was an ancient highway that ran down from Isengard to the crossings, and for some way it took its course by the river; bending with it and then north. This road they followed at a steady canter until it at last turned away and went straight towards the gates of Isengard; which were under the mountainside in the west of the valley, sixteen or more miles from its mouth.
They no longer rode upon the road, but followed beside it along the firm and level turf where the horses could stretch out and gallop swiftly in pairs. Legolas noticed again, as he rode beside Aragorn, that Aerlaer ran behind them beside Éomer's horse when usually she would run beside Shadowfax, whose quicker pace suited her. He glanced at Aragorn and caught his eye and then motioned his head back and then let his eyes show worry to the Ranger. Aragorn rolled his eyes and slightly shook his head.
Legolas had been correct in guessing Aerlaer, was not quite as well as she made out to be. He had seen Aragorn speaking with her and it seemed he was content enough to let her be. Still, he would keep an eye on her. Guilt still plagued him for almost failing her once, he could not allow harm to befall her again.
…
They travelled for many more miles, alternating between paces to enable the horses to catch their breaths. Such was the strength and stamina of the horses of the Riders of the Mark, that they could run for hours on end if need be.
Aerlaer kept up, running beside Firefoot but she felt the little rest she had gained hours earlier waning. More than once she had caught Legolas glancing back at her but she ignored him, knowing from the first time she had seen him look back to her, he worried.
They passed into Nan Curunir, the Wizard's Vale, that was a sheltered valley, open only to the south.
"Once this land was fair and green with beautiful springs." Éomer murmured to Aerlaer, as they trotted onward at a steady pace. "It is not so no, but a wilderness of brambles and thorns. Aerlaer took in the sorrowful sight of the land. There were no trees. Only the axe hewn stumps of their remains, here and there. She rankled her nose at the foul scent on the air, noting how tangled bramble crept over rock and stump and between, shrewd grass grew. It is as if the very land is dead. Poisoned.
The riders did not speak any more as they travelled through the land and eventually the highway in which they rode along again became a wide street; paved with great flat stones, squared and laid with skill and no plant, not even a blade of grass was to be seen before them. A pillar loomed before them and Aerlaer cast her head up, looking at it curiously. It was black and set upon it was a great stone, carved and painted in the likeness of a long, white hand. She snorted quietly in disgust as they passed it. We cannot be far off now surely?
They carried on at a canter and all that could be heard was the sound of the horses, hoofs upon the stone as they went deeper into the desolate valley. Their path was not straight and after a couple more miles, a great tower rose before them from the stone and lesser buildings circling it. It glittered black and four mighty piers of many sided stone were welded into one, but at the summit they opened up into four gaping horns, their pinnacles sharp as the points of spears.
Aerlaer stepped forward and realised she now walked in water, just above her fetlocks. Gandalf urged Shadowfax forward and the company moved forward through the waters towards the great black tower. The buildings about them were reduced to fallen wrecks or rubble, and as the horses carefully treaded through the ever-deepening flood water. Aerlaer and the others noticed a pile of rubble, near the wall of the great tower, strewn with baskets of food and drink and more curiously two forms reclined, one smoking on a pipe and the other possibly sleeping, hands folded behind his head. Aerlaer watched intrigued as one of the men leapt up to his feet upon seeing them.
"Welcome! My Lords… Oh and Lady! To Isengard!" the rather short, curly-haired, man called to them.
"Merry!" called out Aerlaer, in delight and their voices stirred the other Hobbit, who also leapt up to greet them.
"You young, woolly-footed rascals!" Gimli shouted as Legolas rode Arod towards the their two found companions. "A fine hunt you have led us! Six hundred miles through fen and forest, battle and death to rescue you! And here we find you, idly feasting and… and smoking! Where did you come by the weed you villains? I am so full of rage and joy, if I do not burst it will be a marvel!" Gimli scowled at them but there was mirth in his eyes and Aerlaer snickered.
Pippin who swayed a little where he now stood eyed Gimli with a smirk. "We are sitting on the field of victory enjoying a few well-earned comforts." He said to the Dwarf. Aerlaer noted the empty bottle of wine by his feet and shook her head, amused.
Merry blew out a lazy smoke ring in their direction and his face turned to the Dwarf. "The salted pork is particularly good." He suggested and Aerlaer could just imagine the Dwarf's eyes gleam.
"Salted pork?" He said, clearly wanting to be a part of their feasting.
"Hobbits." Gandalf explained to the curious looks of the King, Gamling and Éomer. She supposed to the Rohirrim, this was a strange meeting.
"We're under orders from Treebeard, whose taken over management of Isengard." Merry explained to them as he climbed up to sit behind Aragorn on Brego and Pippin settled in front of Gandalf on Shadowfax.
"A shadow loomed behind them and Aerlaer turned in surprise and gazed up in awe at a tall ent. "Young master Gandalf." The Ent said welcomingly, a timbre like no other to his words. How old possibly were the Ents? Millennia's separate my own age to Gandalf's and yet this Ent had called him young.
"I'm glad you've come. Wood and water, rock and stone I can master; but there is a wizard to manage here, locked in his tower." He spoke again.
"The coward." Gimli muttered.
"I shall deal with him, Treebeard, thank you." Gandalf replied to the Ent who nodded and whistled summoning more of his kin. She noticed, Legolas too was intrigued once more by them. They pushed on through the flood waters which now reached just below the horses and Aerlaer's bellies as they reached and halted at the base of the black tower of Orthanc, where Saruman hid.
"Show yourself!" Aerlaer called, ready to see the wizard by whose commanding hand had destroyed her kin. Gandalf raised a cautionary hand.
"Be careful, even in defeat, Saruman is dangerous." He warned them all.
"Then let's just have his head and be done with it." Growled Gimli.
"No! We need him alive. We need him to speak." Gandalf explained.
Suddenly a white clad form stepped into view from the very top of the tower, between the pointed spiers. "You have fought many wars and slain many men, Théoden, and made peace afterwards. Can we not take council together, as we once did my old friend? Can we not have peace, you and I?" Saruman's voice grated on Aerlaer's nerves, it was a drawling, a contemptuous, leaching poison.
"We shall have peace." Théoden answered quietly beside Aerlaer and Gandalf, before he spoke clearly, emotion and anger rich in his voice. "We shall have peace when you answer for the burning of the Westfold and the children that lie dead there. We shall have peace when the lives of the soldiers, whose bodies were hewn even as they lay dead against the gates of the Hornburg, are avenged! We shall have peace when you hang from a gibbet for the sport of your own crows! Then we shall have peace!" Théoden cried out to the Wizard. He only scoffed, a sneer upon his thin, pale lips.
"Gibbets and crows? Dotard!" He turned to face Gandalf. "What do you want, Gandalf Greyhame? Let me guess, the key of Orthanc? Perhaps the key of Barad-dur itself? Along with the crowns of the seven kings and the rods of the five Wizards!" The Wizard laughed mirthlessly atop his tower, glaring down at them.
"Your treachery has already cost many lives and thousands more are at risk, but you could save them, Saruman, you were deep in the enemy's council." Gandalf called up to him, placating.
Aerlaer watched as the Wizard above them slowly grinned. "So, you have come here for information. I have some for you." The Wizard pulled a dark glowing ball from amidst his robes and stared into it with crazed eyes. A Palantir! Aerlaer realised.
"Something festers in the heart of Middle Earth. Something that you have failed to see. But the Great Eye has seen it. Even now he presses his advantage. His attack will come soon. You are all going to die!" He taunted and laughed once again. Gandalf moved Shadowfax forward and Aerlaer followed by his side and Saruman's gaze shifted onto her, turning to disbelief. "You are meant to be dead." He spat furiously.
"And yet I am not." Aerlaer called up to him regally. "I have something you no longer possess and will never again possess, Saruman."
"And what is that, pray tell me, Elfhorse?" He drawled to her.
"Those who care for me. Friends and comrades." She said casually. "Up there in that tower, Saruman, you have no one and no one will save you now. Sauron does not care for you and he certainly will not care of your downfall." She flicked her tail lazily and watched as he barely contained his temper.
"You, impertinent creature!" He raised his staff and sent a fireball swiftly down towards her and Gandalf. The flames which surrounded them simply disintegrated into the air. Suddenly Arod was at her side, Legolas's gaze catching hers in both worry and relief as Gimli growled.
"Saruman, your staff is broken." Gandalf called up to the other Wizard, his words a command for how the staff splintered and broke in half. Saruman dropped it in surprise and now uncertainty and fear clouded his face and he took a step back from the edge.
"Saruman come down and your life will be spared." Gandalf pleaded, but he only laughed harshly, stepping once again to the edge to peer down at them.
"Save your pity and your mercy! I have no use for it! Instead pity those you have sent to their deaths! Have you all not yet realised the Wizard, you so eagerly follow, does not hesitate to sacrifice those closest to him, those he professes to care for. Tell me Gandalf, what words of comfort did you give the Halfling when you sent him to his doom?" Gandalf sighed and spurned on Saruman continued. "The path that you have set him on can only lead to death."
He then glared at Aragorn who stood beside Théoden, Gamling and Éomer. "You cannot honestly think that this, Ranger, will ever sit upon the throne of Gondor? This exile, crept from the shadows, will never be crowned king, and if he were his reign would be but a small one for the city of Gondor will fall." He cackled.
"I've heard enough of his poisonous words, Legolas shoot him down." Growled Gimli and Legolas reached back for an arrow but Gandalf turned to him and shook his head and he lowered his hand again. Aerlaer wished they could be done with him. He only caused death, destruction and lingering pain. A shadowy movement behind Saruman's flowing white robes, caused her to shift her gaze. A dark and hunched figure appeared.
"Grima! You need not follow him. You were not always as you are now. You were once a man of Rohan. Come down." Théoden called up to the man and Aerlaer felt pity upon seeing his scared and confused, retched face peering down at them. He looks ill-treated. She realised, for he was thinner than he had been in Edoras and his skin was now even sicklier. The only colour upon his face, a purple and yellow bruise, and his black, dishevelled hair. Saruman scoffed arrogantly.
"A man of Rohan? What is the house of Rohan but a thatched barn where brigands drink in the reek and rats roll on the floor with the dogs? Victory at Helms Deep does not belong to you, Théoden horse master! You are a lesser son of greater sires!" Aerlaer heard Éomer hiss under his breath from behind her but the King seemed to remain composed.
"Gríma, come down, be free of him." He urged the man on the tower.
"Free? He will never be free!" Saruman taunted.
"No." Gríma cried in distress and stepped forward towards the edge to better see his king.
Saruman turned in one fluid motion and back handed the man across the face. He yelped, falling down out of sight. "Get down cur!" He spat before turning back to the King's company.
"Saruman." Gandalf tried reasoning again. "You were deep in the enemy's council, tell us what you know."
"You withdraw your guard and I will tell you where your doom will lie." He hissed and then gasped. Stumbling forward as Gríma leapt upon him, stabbing a dagger deep into his back before withdrawing it and stabbing again. Beside Aerlaer, Legolas quickly grabbed an arrow and aimed and loosed it towards the man vengeful man, the head burrowing with a crack, into his chest. The sickly man went limp, crashing sideways as Saruman stumbled forward.
"I will not be held prisoner here." He gasped, wobbling and then he fell. Aerlaer stared in morbid fascination as his robes fluttered about him, his body driving down swiftly towards them. With a sickening sound of tearing flesh and breaking bone the Wizard fell upon a wooden spier beneath the tower. The wheel in, which it was connected of what device Aerlaer did not know, began to turn from his weight and as he was lowered and engulfed by the water. The Palantir he had still been holding, fell from his robes to land with an ominous splash into the dark waters beside Shadowfax.
"The filth of Saruman is washing away." The Ent, Treebeard rumbled from behind them and Aerlaer turned around to face his kin, along with the others.
"The enemy moves against us." Gandalf said aloud to them all, also turning around and Pippin slipped off Shadowfax. "We must send word to all our allies and to every corner of Middle Earth that still stands free. We need to know where he will strike."
Aerlaer turned back startled as the Wizard suddenly shouted to the Hobbit. "Peregrin Took! I'll take that, my lad. Quickly now." He seized the Palantir from Pippin's curious hands, and quickly wrapped it up in his own cloak.
"Éomer can your steed bear, Pippin?" Gandalf asked and nodding, Éomer rode forward and extending a hand, helped the ashamed Hobbit up into the saddle.
The King's small company then turned and headed away from the tall, dark tower of Orthanc and for a while Treebeard walked alongside them.
"Here are four more of my companions, Treebeard." Gandalf said to the tall Ent. "I have spoken of them but you have not yet seen them until now." One by one he named them and told the Ent from where they dwelt.
Greetings Aragorn, son of Arathorn, Gandalf has spoken well of you and your people." Treebeard said kindly and Aragorn inclined his head in thanks.
He then turned to Legolas. "So, you have come all the way from the Greenwood, my good Elf? A very great forest it used to be."
"And still it is." Legolas replied. "But not so great that those who dwell there ever tire of seeing new trees. I should like to journey to Fangorn's wood. I scarcely passed beneath the eaves of it, and I wish to go back."
"I hope you may have your wish, woodland Elf, for you would be most welcome." Treebeard replied warmly.
"I will come once all this is over. I made a deal with my friend that, if all goes well, we will visit Fangorn together, by your leave." Legolas said respectfully as he gazed across and up to the intriguing creature.
"Any friend that comes with you will be welcome." Treebeard replied before turning to Aerlaer.
"Long has it been since an Elfhorse walked across these lands, Aerlaer, last daughter of the line of Silaear." Treebeard rumbled to her.
"You knew my ancestors?" she asked, intrigued.
"Indeed, I did, fine folk they were, kind but also fierce of heart and soul. Often your people would stay a while under the eaves of Fangorn in their travels." The Ent explained. "Always will you be welcome in the woods of Fangorn, young one."
"Thank you Treebeard, I hope to come back too someday when all is said and done." She replied feeling very young indeed compared to this ent who had known the very first of the Edhelroch.
"And now I must leave you all and go back to help my brothers and people." Treebeard announced. "Dear little hobbits, I will miss you both and know that you and your small folk will also be welcome back to the woods of Fangorn, and if you ever see or hear word of those entwives in the Shire, then come yourselves if you can to tell us such news."
"We will!" Merry and Pippin promised in unison.
"Thank you Treebeard, for everything." Merry said sincerely and Pippin nodded from where he sat astride Firefoot.
"To you all, fare well." Treebeard said and then turned away, his long strides carrying him back towards his forest kin.
"We must again make haste back to Edoras, our journey is but a long one." Called out Théoden and he urged Snowman into a canter and the others followed behind him, Aerlaer digging in to her reserves, so she too could complete the journey back, her heart a little lighter for the just death of the Wizard, who had torn so much apart.
Thanks to all new followers! Over 400 of you awesome peeps! Just, thank you! :)
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Aralinn - I dont think you were around for the first writing of this, my favorite chapters are soon to come, with all the confusion!