Sam eyed the gates of the city as they rode through. No one moved to challenge them as they rode slowly along the muddy, beaten path. There were a few homes, most of which were falling into being hovels. The people were dirty and haggard, most of them watching the group with dead eyes.
"The warriors we met came from here?" she whispered to Aragorn. He nodded sadly. "It is a terrible thing when a people are reduced to such circumstance," his eyes lingered on a small boy, as dirty as the rest of the people, with the pinched look of starvation on his face.
Sam tried not to stare at the people as they made their way to the Golden Hall, the name Gandalf had given the large building seated at the top of the hill. They were going to find someone named Theoden, the king of this place. As they moved further into the town she fought down a pang of anger. What kind of king would let his people fall into such a state? Most looked half-starved, the rest were clearly unhealthy.
"Your sympathy for these people shows," Legolas said to her, and Sam started. The elf had remained at her side for most of the journey, and she'd grown used to his presence, so much so that she'd almost forgotten he was there. She hadn't known her emotions were that easily read.
"Look at them," she retorted. "There's hardly a person between fifteen and fifty," and it was true. The people were either very old or very young, with not many in-between. It didn't take a genius to realize that this was a people on the verge of extinction.
The elf glanced up, then faced forward. "This place is dying, Samantha. There is nothing we can do to save it, but we may be able to save those who are left."
Sam looked at Legolas. His face was serious and drawn, almost as if seeing people in this state caused him physical pain.
We could help that, you know.
Sam sneered at her inner self, which she had slipped into calling the bitch. The bitch didn't care that she wasn't supposed to be thinking about getting involved with anyone on a mission. The bitch didn't care that the person she'd set her eyes on would more than likely outlive her several times over. In fact, the bitch didn't seem to care about anything that wouldn't make Sam blush ten shades of red.
I swear, when we get back to the SGC, I don't care how much medication I have to take, I'm gonna get rid of you.
The bitch gave what could have been a sigh. Oh, really?
Sam growled to herself. There had to be something about the food they ate, or maybe it was the lack of female contact, or chocolate, but she was definitely going insane the longer she stayed here.
"Okay, that was one of the most terrible things I've seen in my life."
Daniel Jackson shivered as he picked at his bread. Seeing someone 'possessed' in the sense he was used to wasn't an uncommon sight for an anthropologist. In fact, he'd been witness to several such possession, and their subsequent exorcisms while in the field. However, what they'd witnessed a few hours ago was nothing like what he'd ever seen before. Even the Gou'ld, who possessed their victims, didn't shake him up as badly as what he'd just seen. At least they needed proximity to completely take over a person. Saruman had been able to take complete mental and physical control over the king from thousands of miles away.
"Are you not hungry, Daniel Jackson?"
He looked down. The hunk of bread he'd been given was reduced to little more than a pile of crumbs, his soup remained untouched in its bowl. He smiled sheepishly. "Not really, Teal'c."
"You should try to eat," Aragorn said. "You will need your strength for tomorrow."
Ah yes, tomorrow. They were supposed to help the city evacuate and move to Helms Deep, some kind of fortress. His eyes swung to the small pallet were two children huddled in sleep. They had arrived a few hours after what remained of the fellowship, exhausted and dehydrated, probably the only survivors of a small village called Sirham.
Gimli followed his gaze. "They'll be fine," he murmured, placing a steady hand on the young man's shoulder. "Children are designed to recover from things such as this. All it will take is time."
Daniel shook his head, but remained silent. No child could recover from the death of their parents, he knew that from experience.
"Still, their sadness runs deep," Legolas retorted. "The memory of it will last their whole lives."
Daniel cut a sidelong glance at Jack, who had been conspicuously silent since Theoden's proclamation. No, that wasn't true, he'd been quiet since the king learned of his sons death.
"Your quarters are prepared," Eowyn said from the doorway. "If you would follow me."
The group filed after the young woman. In truth, Daniel had been surprised to find her in a place such as this. She was a spark of light in a dying kingdom, a view shared by many of the people he'd spoken with over the past several hours. All of them adored her, counted on her when there was no one else. She'd taken over feeding and housing them by herself, asking for their patience as she handled things personally.
As the woman of the house, and niece to the king, it was her duty to look after such tasks. In that way she was no different from many of the women of the feudal era in Europe.
They climbed two flights of stairs before coming to a large room. Several thick pallets laid with furs lined the floor, and the archeologists nose began to itch at the remainders of dust and mold.
" I apologize, but this is all I can prepare on such short notice," Eowyn said as they walked into the room. "The upper rooms haven't been aired in some time, which is why the windows are opened. Feel free to shut them as you wish."
She stopped Sam as she walked into the room. "Major Carter, I would be honored if you shared my room this night."
"Um, sure," she turned towards her companions. "Sorry guys," without another glance she began walking after the lady.
"Yeah, right," Jack grumbled, breaking his silence. He looked at the large steaming bowls that sat in one corner, and Daniel could guess that they contained water for bathing. "She just didn't want to get caught with her pants down."
Daniel tried not to laugh at the shocked expressions the three warriors had. He knew Jack had been planning a way to get back at her for the Lothlorien incident, he'd just been bidding his time. "No such luck, Jack. She always gets away."
"Except for that time on P3X-595," the colonel said, smiling.
Daniel blinked, then thought back. Oh, yes. All of them had ended up naked somewhere at least once, except for Carter. Then came P3X-595. It was the one mission for which the barest mention would make Sam blush ten shades of red, then threaten death for anyone who even thought of spreading the story. The archeologist tried to feel guilty, after all, he'd given the crash course in diplomacy, emphatically stating that they should eat/ drink whatever they were offered, after they asked what, if any, affects it would have. This came after SG7 was left tied up naked next to the stargate for refusing to share in a feast in their honor.
Sam had listened, taken notes, and felt prepared to meet the people of P3X-595 without creating an intergalactic incident. She'd shared in the drink offered to the women while he, Jack, and Teal'c shared in a slightly sticky substance known as ballalla. The people had assured them that both would harm them in to way, that they were meant to relax a person after a long journey. While the only results for them was a state of rather nice relaxation, Sam had hit the jackpot. Apparently, the drink nepher had one other purpose: to prepare a woman for meeting her partner after a long journey. In the end, Teal'c ended up babysitting a thoroughly stoned Carter who was adamant in helping him out of his clothes while Jack argued with the headman that she wasn't for sale, or trade, while he translated, omitting the more colorful language of the colonel.
Besides, he was sure that planet didn't have anything resembling Rodeo clowns.
Sam said almost all she remembered was some of the argument between Jack and the headman, but didn't know what was being said. Not to mention that they'd all gotten one hell of a strip show in the process. Once Hald realized that Samantha wasn't for sale, he tried to argue for borrowing her, so that she could teach the women of the village to dance like she did. But as she didn't remember that, none of them were willing to remind her.
"What happened on this P3X-595?" Gimli asked. The tales of the worlds they visited had helped to warm many a cold night during their travels.
Aragorn, Gimli and Legolas watched as their companions blushed. Even Teal'c turned a noticeable shade of red. The three muttered a response before busying themselves elsewhere.
Aragorn looked at the dwarf and the elf and smiled mischievously." Perhaps it would be better to ask Samantha-"
Two loud "No!'s" followed by a calmer "That will not be necessary," met his words.
The three men looked between each other, wondering how they were going to survive the night.
Eowyn watched the woman as she shrugged into a borrowed nightgown. Without the layers of male clothing she was more feminine, almost delicate, but Eowyn could sense a core of strength in her. She was fascinated by the concept of a woman warrior, someone who was not only trained but allowed to use that training, for why else would she be traveling with such men? While they had formed a group around her, she still carried herself with the air of someone used to fighting their own battles. She was certainly no camp girl, nor did she believe any of the men would use the services of such a woman.
"Thanks for letting me bunk down with you," Samantha said as she settled onto her pallet. "The idea of changing in front of everyone was less than appealing," she didn't add that turn about would have been fair play, considering the fact that she'd got an eyeful a few weeks ago.
"It is no trouble," Eowyn answered. "I have been longing to speak with you for some time now."
Sam was rubbing a towel over her damp hair and missed the anxious look on the other woman's face. "About what?"
"You are a warrior, are you not?" she asked. "Women are allowed to pursue such things in your country?"
Sam nodded.
Eowyn felt a weight lift from her. So, there was hope after all. "I am glad to hear it," she said. "Women of my country are taught to fight, but seldom get the chance to use their skills. The men here act as if our blood is not good enough to be spilled in the defense of our people."
The major heard the bitterness in the other woman's voice, the frustration. Sam wanted to bite her tongue for what she was about to say, but she felt it needed to be said. "In our country we have weapons that even the score between men and women," she gritted her teeth. "On one level I can understand your men not wanting women to fight. In a test of brute strength we're at the disadvantage," Eowyn looked shocked. "That doesn't mean I agree with them, though," Sam added.
Eowyn stood and walked towards the fireplace. "There was a time when being a shield maiden held true meaning, when we were allowed to fight alongside our people. Those days have long since passed out of memory. I was trained to fight, to desire honor and victory, and then denied the ability to find either," it was a bitter gall for her. For as long as she could remember her uncle had regaled her with tales of the shield maidens of old, how they fought and protected their people, only to learn that she would be unable to do the same.
She turned back to Samantha, who sat staring out the window. The other woman sighed. " I can understand how you feel. It wasn't easy for me to get where I am. There are rules and regulations that prevent women from taking certain posts. Just getting through officers training was Hell. Then there's the double standard."
"Double standard?" Eowyn was confused.
"Yeah. It means that men can get away with things women cant, even though the same laws are supposed to govern each. Case in point. A man who sleeps with the women in his command is considered a stud, given a certain level of respect from other men. If a woman were to sleep with the men in her command-"
"She would be branded a whore," Eowyn finished.
Sam nodded. "Or worse, she could be removed from duty. Then there's the whole glass-ceiling thing," she didn't wait for Eowyn to ask. "It means that there's a barrier that cant be seen that stops you from going farther than is 'acceptable'," she thought back to when she was passed up for command of SG1, despite the fact that she had the field experience and rank.
"So, our countries are different, but still the same," Eowyn murmured. She had hoped that somewhere, it might be different. But it seemed that was all she had, hope. "Perhaps no freedom is better than the illusion of it." When Samantha didn't answer she started for the door. "If you'll excuse me, Samantha, I must see to my uncle."
Eowyn walked through the Golden Hall, lost in thought. Tomorrow morning would begin the preparations for their journey to Helm's Deep. She had instructed everyone to bed down early, so they could rise before the sun. The halls were silent, without even the wind to echo through the stone halls. So even nature herself has abandoned us, Eowyn thought as she pushed open a door. "Uncle?"
Theoden sat, staring into the darkness beyond the large window of his room. "How many have died while I sat that way, Eowyn?" his voice was old, tired, more tired than she'd ever heard it.
The woman started. Of all the questions she expected, this one had escaped her. "What?"
He didn't move. "How many have died while I sat in that state? How many lives have I taken through negligence? How many people have lost their sons, daughters, while I sat as a puppet on a crumbling throne?" he took a deep breath. "How many men would fail to react when told that their only child, the one reminder they had of a woman loved, was dead?"
Eowyn approached him slowly. She'd asked herself that question several times over the past few months, but never had the heart to discover the answer for herself. "From what we have been told, many suffer throughout Middle Earth."
Theoden laughed, the sound brittle as dead leaves. "We of the Rohan have always been vigilant. We have always been ready to fight with a willing sword, despite the dangers. I sat at the council with Elrond and the others. I scoffed at their concern, branded them fools for wanting to destroy the ring. And now look what has befallen us. Betrayal by those counted friend, my people dying, our lands falling into ruin. All because I failed to see the truth."
Eowyn's eyes filled with tears, tears she knew he'd never let fall. He would not cry for those he had failed, he wouldn't feel himself worthy of it. "Mistakes are a part of life," she whispered, placing a hand on his shoulder.
The king shuddered. "Mistakes such as mine should never have come to be."
For a moment a flare of white hot anger went through the young woman. Those mistakes were not his alone. Their people had listened to the words of Wormtongue, had followed his orders. How many lives might have been spared had she challenged her words? "The fault is not yours to bear alone, uncle. What of our allies? What of the people who watched as we crumbled and waited to pick up the crumbs? What of the Havens, of Gondor? Where were they when their help was needed?"
"The old alliances are no more, niece. They are but shadows floating in the wind. The only help we will receive will be in dying."
The despair she heard in his voice stopped her from protesting. For one moment the truth of what her uncle was doing flashed in front of her. Helm's Deep was a gamble, a last attempt to help a people already too far gone. A gesture that he knew would be too little, too late.
He was taking them there to die.
Before the idea to take hold she pushed it away. They would not die. Patrols of orcs and goblins could take lives, but they couldn't exterminate an entire people. The wildmen could attack from the north, but they would be able to go only so far south before they must return or face the bands of riders that had started their own patrols. Their people would survive. Battered, yes, but still unbroken.
"You should sleep, uncle."
For the first time he looked at her. "I've slept enough for several lifetimes, Eowyn. Tonight I wish to feel alive again."
Jack…
Jack turned over, trying to ignore the voice calling him. He still had another hour before he had to get up, and he'd be damned if he didn't take it.
Jack…
"Fine, fine," he grumbled, rolling out of bed. He looked at his alarm clock. Five- thirty on the mark. He yawned, wincing as his jaw cracked. No matter what he said, he wasn't getting any younger.
Rubbing his head in annoyance Jack padded to the bathroom and turned on the light. He looked in the mirror and paused.
He wasn't there.
Well, nothing was there.
"Okay," he looked around the bathroom. Everything was where it was supposed to be. The towel he used that morning was folded neatly on the basket, his toothbrush was still sitting in the holder. Nothing was out of the ordinary, except for the mirror. Jack reached out and touched the surface. It buckled like water before parting, and he found himself floating. No, he wasn't floating, he was flying. Something was pulling him, hard and fast. Mountains passed beneath him, oceans, seas.
Jack…
He stopped, hovering somewhere, alone. It was hard to breathe.
He looked down.
"Frodo?"
Yeah, that was him, huddled with Samwise against an outcropping of rock, sleeping. Jack floated closer. No, he wasn't sleeping. The hobbit was wide awake, staring at something in his hand.
Slowly, the hobbit stood, slipping from beside his friend and looking around for something. After a moment, he found it. Just as slowly he walked back to his friend.
Frodo, what are you doing? Jack screamed the words, but his mouth wouldn't move. He watched as the hobbit slammed the rock into his friends head twice, each blow making a sickening thud in the quiet night, the whole time the dark haired hobbit was smiling.
________
Jack sat up, trying to control his breathing. Just a dream, Jacky boy, he thought to himself. His reward for worrying over how the two hobbits were doing without them. Not that he didn't have faith in them. It was just…
He sighed. It was just that they were too innocent. And the ring was strong…too strong…
None of you can escape…
Jack closed his eyes.
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Holy shit in a hand basket, she updated!!!!!!!!!!! :::::Writegirl does happy dance:::::
Thank you guys so much for sticking by me!!!!!!!!! I cant believe so many people are into this. Just goes to show the damage a plot bunny can do : )
Extra special hot fudge, strawberries, whip cream and Orlando Bloom naked (handcuffs optional) on a mahogany canopy bed with sheer curtains and black satin sheets thanks goes out to nefernetera, Kaitland, Astrida, Kolinshar Jackie-chan Benito, Alexandra, Chibi Mo, DiverSam, HaloGatomon, ember, , Elvaralind, Kits, Shanna, aLeX, Linderhill, Angela, Lady Cinnibar, RebelJaffa, telumiel, rolo-rooni, Kieren da Elf,Terri, Elwen half elven,Fred1451, Katrin and last but definitely not least cid dante for your wonderful reviews. Thanks so much for standing by me through this madness…much glomping for each and every one of you. Thanks to those who've been with me since the beginning and to those who just climbed aboard!!!
Once again, I apologize for the time its been taking me to churn out these chapters over the past few months. I am trying, but I keep getting sidetracked :::::glares at Marla:::::
As always, reviews are much appreciated and worshiped. All are placed on a shrine next to my computer for moral support. All flames will be eaten with soy sauce and rum. If I'm screwing up, let me know so I can fix it, or at least tone it down a little. There a character you think I'm neglecting? I cant fix it if I don't know.
Now, onto more serious stuff. For those of you who've been watching the Sam/Legolas and approve… do you want lemon? :::dangles a lemon on a string in front of you----- you're getting very sleepy, you eye lids are heavy, you're floating on a light fluffy cloud, now your typing y-::::: Oh, sorry about that. Anyway, do you want lemon? Lime? Just tons of WAFF, or chair melting blush raising madness? Let me know so I'll know how far to drift in the gutter for the next chapters : )