"Merry?"
Pip shook his friend slightly, but only got a moan for his trouble. "Merry?" he tried again, but the other hobbit just turned over. Pip didn't blame him. With everything they'd been through the past few days he knew he should be just as asleep, but he wasn't.
He was still shaking with excitement.
Pip hadn't believed it when Treebeard dumped them in front of Gandalf like two fat apples. Before he even knew what he was doing, Pip had his arms around the tall man's knees holding on like he'd never let go, and Merry was right next to him.
"So eager to see an old friend?" The wizard had asked, amusement in his voice. Pip hugged him all the harder. He was back, Gandalf was back and there was nothing wrong with the world in that moment.
"They say they're 'hobbits'," Treebeard rumbled behind them.
"And so they are," Gandalf answered, gently but firmly detaching the small hands that held him. "Halflings who are friend to field and dale. I'm glad you found them."
Whatever the ent said was lost in more rumbling. Pip stared up into Gandalf's eyes, wanting to say how sorry he was, how glad he was the Gandalf was back, but the words wouldn't get past his throat.
Gandalf kneeled down, his face suddenly serious. "Tears, Master Took? What need have you for tears?"
Pip reached up and felt warm wetness on his cheek. Hurriedly, he brushed them away. He looked the wizard full in the face, and froze. Gandalf looked…older. Wiser, yet more tired than he'd ever seen him.
"It's good to see you again, Gandalf," Merry said next to him, and Pip nodded in agreement. At least one of them could still talk.
Gandalf smiled. "It's good to be seen." He stood again and turned to Treebeard. "I have a task for you, old friend. Watch these two young hobbits, and see that they come to no harm."
Treebeard bent his great head, and Gandalf turned and started to walk deeper into the forest.
"Wait!" Pip ran after him and latched onto the staff. "Were're ya goin?" he asked.
Gandalf turned to him and smiled. "Places where you cannot follow, Master Took, nor you Master Brandybuck. Don't worry." He laid a gentle hand on the hobbit's head. "I will see you again."
Pip looked back to the clearing where the ents were still talking. It was a strange, soothing sound, like how the trees used to creak outside his window when the wind blew. Treebeard had told them about the ents while they were traveling, about how they were the oldest creatures in Middle Earth. Even the oldest of the elves were children to them. The Treebeard told them about the first time an elf had climbed into his branches and began speaking. "Sounded like the chattering of a squirrel, it did," Treebeard laughed. "All fast and excited. Wouldn't leave me alone until I talked back. Wanted to know everything all at once." More than once the ent had talked both him and Merry to sleep with his stories, but he never seemed to mind. He was just start where he left off when they woke up. Pip turned over, pulling his cloak tighter and started to drift off.
____________________________
Gimli was the first to trudge over the hill after the battle. The screams of dying horses echoed too loud in his ears, even though they were being put down. There were times when he thought the Rhohirim cared more for their horses than their own people. He heaved a sigh of relief when he didn't see any victims. So their battle had given the women and children time to reach safety, that was all they could ask. He bent down and examined the body of an orc a little way down the slope. There was a hole beneath it's left eye, but no arrow. Another orc was similar a short distance away, only its neck was a ruined mass.
"Thanks be to whatever brought down those foul smellin' creatures," he grumbled, stalking towards the body of a wrag. He walked around it, and stopped.
An orc had a blade sticking out of its neck a few feet away, and a short distance from that….
"Not you too, laddie," Gimli whispered as he trotted over the Daniel. The boy had a nasty gash running along his eye, indeed, he was lucky to still have it. His breathing was shallow, and he was pale. Gimli kneeled down and paused when his hand met something cold and wet. "Oh, no."
"Gimli?" Legolas's voice cut through his concern.
"Over here!" he shouted, lifting his axe and waving it frantically. He turned back to the boy and rolled him over. There was a pool of red beneath him.
A slender hand reached around him and lifted the boy's shirt. "The wound's deep," Legolas said, his voice grave. "The bleeding has slowed." He pressed his hand to the wound and Daniel thrashed. "He is awake enough to feel pain, that is always a good sign."
"Gimli, Legolas! What'cha got?"
The dwarf looked down. "We cant risk the wound openin' again."
Legolas removed his cloak and swiftly tied it around Daniel's midsection. "That will help for now," the blond elf said as he stood, taking Daniel with him. " Daniel has been injured."
In moments both Jack and Teal'c were at their friends side. "You couldn't help yourself, could you Danny?" Jack muttered as he gave his companion a swift once-over.
"He fought well," Teal'c said, stepping past them and removing Daniel's long knife from the dead orc. "He brought down four of their number."
"That's my boy," Daniel patted his friend's head. "Anybody got any room?"
Polas, one of the soldiers, rode up and took Daniel, balancing him before him. Gimli didn't know who would fall off the horse first, the unconscious boy or the soldier who looked close to that state himself.
"He hovers like a mother hen," Gimli said to Legolas as the group began making their way to Helm's Deep.
The elf nodded. "Jack has long since shown his concern for his friend, feeling him to be the weakest of their group."
Gimli laughed. "He showed himself to not be as weak as they thought. Three! Then there's that bedamned monster they were riding…"
"Wrags," Legolas said absently, his eyes scanning the horizon. "They're called wrags."
"Whatever," Gimli muttered. His expression turned somber. "Do you think that orc was tellin' the truth about Aragorn?"
Legolas looked down at his friend, then back to where they fought. "He was not on the battle field, Gimli. There was no where else for him to go."
"He couldn't have survived a fall like that." Gimli lowered his head. "Poor Arwen, she'll be waitin' for him…" he paused. "You don't think he's dead, do ye? What do those fine elf senses have to say about that?"
Legolas turned towards the west, then back east. "My heart says he still lives, for how long is anyone's guess."
Light entered Gimli's eyes. "You're sure?"
The glimmer of hope faded when Legolas sped up without answering.
"Wake up sleepin' beauty."
Daniel cracked his eye slowly, then shut it. That light was bright.
"Yo, Danny, go into the light," the voice was thready, mysterious, and Daniel laughed.
That wasn't his best idea.
"I think I got the number of the truck this time Jack," he said, his voice strained.
"Really?" something cold and wet was pressed to his lips, and he opened his mouth eagerly. The water tasted fresh, if a little earthy.
There was a slight chuckle. "If you only knew the things I've thought about putting in your mouth. I had this pair of gym socks once…"
Daniel opened his eyes wide. Or at least he tried. Half of his face was bandaged.
"Thought that'd get your attention."
Daniel fingered the bandage lightly, and moved the muscles beneath it. He felt the distinct pull of stitches, and he moved the eye around in its socket.
"Don't worry, you still have both those baby blues," Jack said, settling further back, outside of Daniel's view.
The archeologist looked around, trying to get his bearings. He was lying on a straw mat in a small stone room. He tried to sit up and winced. Okay, he thought as he was guided back down onto the mattress. That was another bad idea.
"Take it easy there," Jack said. "You damn near got skewered."
Daniel felt his side until he found the bulk of a bandage. "I hate to break it to you Jack, but I did get skewered."
"Aw, that little scratch?" Jack pulled back the blanket covering him. "You'll be on your feet in an hour or so."
Daniel wished he shared his friends good humor. "Everyone made it all right?" he asked, running a hand through his hair.
Jack nodded. "Most all the women and kids. Some of the kids got hurt in all the shuffling towards the gate. A boy fell under the wheels of a cart and broke his arm. Other than that, all hands accounted for."
"And the soldiers?"
Jack suddenly found the blanket covering Daniel fascinating. "Twenty died. Eight more are if-y." He nodded, and Daniel followed the gesture until he made out other pallets with women hovering over them. "Aragorn's MIA."
Daniel sat up, more carefully this time, and hissed at the pain. There were stitches there as well, judging from the pained pull he felt. "MIA?"
Jack sighed. "One of the orcs said he fell off a cliff, but there's a river under it so it would've been hard to find a body, even if we had the time. We pretty much got our butts kicked."
Daniel gave his friend a once-over. Jack looked the worse for wear, sporting more than a few new nicks, cuts, and bruises on his face and arms. Two of his fingers were bandaged together.
"So, what was the truck's number?"
"Hmm?" Daniel took a deep breath, and willed his head to stop spinning. "Oh, I think it was 897-STINKY."
Jack grabbed Daniel's arm and helped him to his feet. There, Daniel thought as they walked slowly out of the makeshift infirmary, As long as you're standing, everything's fine.
More or less.
Jack lead Daniel down a series of hallways, and the archeologist found himself intrigued by the many statues and reliefs that lined both sides. The stone looked old, probably had been mined at least two hundred years ago. As they walked they passed people along the halls, all of which had the same determined looks on their faces.
"Eowyn's been looking after everyone," Jack was saying as the walked down a winding staircase. "Most everyone who isn't helping with the wounded or cooking is outside gathering what food they can. We picked up the bags the women left as they ran, but I don't know how much of it was food. Some of the guards who were stationed here said the Deep has its own gardens and fields, buy they're meant just for the few soldiers usually stationed here, so we'll be pulling it thin for a while."
"Daniel?"
Before he could place the voice Daniel found himself pounced on from behind.
"That's right, Carter, kill him after all the work they did putin' him back together."
The pressure around his waist was gone instantly, and Daniel turned to find a blushing Sam staring at him, Teal'c coming up more slowly behind her.
"We were worried when they carted you in," Sam said by way of explanation. "We've been busy helping organize sleeping arrangements and everything else."
"It is good to see you well, Daniel Jackson," Teal'c said. "It has been many hours since Major Carter and I have been able to visit you. Lady Eowyn is a capable leader, as is Theoden, and too few who are used to following orders, and our help was required."
"How long was I out?" Daniel looked around. Torches lined the halls, and there were no windows in sight. The Deep must have been built inside a mountain.
"It's almost night, Daniel," Sam said.
As if to agree with her words they heard a horn sound, then fall silent, then sound twice more.
"They are calling the women and men in for the night," Teal'c said.
"Yeah," Jack started walking again. "I was taking Daniel to the mess hall for some grub. Anyone care to join us?"
Grima Wormtongue paced the tower restlessly, rubbing his hands together. Saruman had been too pleased by half as he watched his army march towards Rohan.
This night the land will be stained with the blood of Rohan! March to Helm's Deep! Leave none alive!
The wizard's words echoed through his mind. He hadn't believed it possible that Saruman had gathered such a force. The stirring up of the Northmen was one matter, but there were hardly enough of them to make up an army, not one the size needed to storm the keep. It wasn't until he'd seen them, heard their cries as they went to kill his people, that he finally understood what Saruman had planned.
When all is said and done, you will rule in Rohan, with Eowyn at your side. Under the guidance of our Lord, of course.
Saruman's words of long ago came back to him. Saruman's promise had been a gift from the gods. Rohan couldn't hope to stand against Sauron and his forces, not once he'd learned that the Ring had been found. That was how Grima had justified his actions. Theoden would have stood against Sauron and brought ruin to their people. They would stand a much better chance of survival standing with Mordor, rather than against it.
And then there was Eowyn.
Saruman had promised Grima the one thing he truly wanted. Leadership of Rohan was nothing compared to her. He had watched Eowyn for years, transfixed as she changed from shy girl to strong woman, though she'd never given him more than passing courtesy. Watching her had become his pastime, his obsession. Everyday she grew more beautiful, and more distant, a star that would remain always out of reach. Yet Saruman had put her in his grasp, all he need do was what he was told.
Leave none alive!
He'd watched them as they marched, felt tears gather in his eyes and let them pass, unhindered, over his face. In all his years of following Saruman, he would never have believed him capable of this. Helm's Deep would be full of women and children, so very few of the men having remained in the villages and towns, choosing instead to join the many renegade patrols set up to check the movement of orcs across the land. He doubted if they had more than a hundred men, able bodied or not, among those at the stronghold. He had given the white wizard the key to destroying the Deep's defenses, though how the small balls Saruman had smiled over would undo stones more than three feet thick was beyond him. One thing was certain: if they could it would be no battle. It would be slaughter.
"Oh, Eowyn, what have I done?" Grima whispered to himself.
"Go with the grace of the Valar, Haldir."
Galadriel smiled sadly at her husband's words. Haldir was resplendent in his armor, armor that had not been worn for years almost out of reckoning. He nodded, and joined the forces that were gathered among the trees. A hundred elves, all the forces from Rivendell and Lothlorien, waited silently for the order to march. It was a sight she had not seen for more than an age, and had hoped never to see again.
"Amin sinta thaliolle e dagor, Astalderea." Celeborn's voice rang through the glade, echoing off the ancient trees. "Quel fara."
Galadriel forced her voice to be steady. "Aa' I'sul nora lanne'lle."
The trumpeter at the head of the column blew on his golden horn, and the sound tore through her. For a moment she was standing on a tall battlement, drenched with cold rain and deafened by the screams of those around her. Haldir was standing in front of her, and as she watched an uruk'hai raised its axe behind him. She opened her mouth to give a warning.
But the vision was gone.
"Maelamin?"
The elf queen came back to herself, her husband staring into her face expectantly. "What has happened?"
"Haldir…"
She turned to where the soldiers were just disappearing into the trees, and wanted nothing more than to call them back, to hold onto Haldir and all the others who were to die so soon.
Celeborn followed her gaze and let out a long, slow breath, "We knew a time would pass when we would face loosing him."
Galadriel nodded, even as her heart began to slowly splinter. "It must be done," she said, her voice wavering. "If they have no aid Rohan will fall, and with it half the western lands. They still have a part to play in this." She started walking among the trees, letting the calm of their forest wash over her. Her husband followed.
"And Frodo?"
She shook her head. "His path has been set for many days now. It cannot be turned aside."
Celeborn hung his head. The two walked aimlessly among the trees, their people casting occasional glances at them before leaving their king and queen to their grief.
After all, it wasn't everyday they sent their son off to war.
A/NTHANK YOU THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK YOU for reading this!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Special chocolate mousse thanks goes out to ChristalSteele (x24), Wishful Thinking2, ghostgirl, Fror the dwarf-writer, Popples, Kaitland, Chibi Mo, rolo-rooni (x4), cid dante, Crazy Kat, Alexandra3, rogue_angel82, Shanna, SilverCaladan, methrill (x2), Sister of Darkness, Alys, jammchr, gloryfaith, KaliedescopeCat, Misty, ember, lazybones, Lady Cinnibar, HaloGatomon, and Chris Philips (x4) for their wonderful reviews, glomping, and pokes!!!!! I love you guys!!!! and thanks to wertyleigh for pointing out the weird script problem in chapter one.
Oh, and barely interested, I do proofread, quite extensively. When FF.net updated their servers, somehow the data must not have transferred correctly. Ask anyone who read the chapter when it was first posted, there were no mistakes in it.
And random reader, this story has always had SG1/LOTR crossover in its summary line. It's not my fault that you didn't read it before you chose to try the story. Be more careful about things like that if it bothers you.
Okay, just a few notes before you guys try and roast me alive. On the time thing: Gandalf tells Aragorn to watch for him on the dawn of the fifth day. I made their total travel time to Helm's Deep three days, allowing them one night of peace before the siege. As I don't remember the exact details from the book, and movie time is always truncated, I opted for what seemed to be a little more realistic, considering travel time, the time it would take Saruman's army to reach Helm's Deep after Grima arrived, etc.
Two, on Haldir being Galadriel and Celeborn's son. As far as I know his parentage is never mentioned in the books. One would assume that since he had such high rank among his people that he's highborn, and prince is about as high as you can get. I also wanted to give more tragedy to Galadriel and her gift because I don't think they really do it justice in either the book or the movie (though the movie does a much better job). Come on, she can see the future but she cant risk interfering, and what's more terrible than sending your child off to war knowing that he's going to die? Sorry, I'm just melancholy like that.
Okay, now for translations of the elvish:
Amin sinta thaliolle e dagor, Astalderea I know your strength in battle, valiant ones
Quel fara Good hunting
Aa' I'sul nora lanne'lle May the wind fill your sails
Maelamin Beloved