Dedication; This one is for you IWishSan. You wanted to know what Éomer's reaction to fighting with his heroes would be.
Notes, Warnings etc
The beginning of this chapter is a little fluffy but since there has been very little interaction between the twins (Dúnedain) I decided that it was warranted.
Book and movie are going to collide again in the next few chapters. I was going to try and stick with the book but I could get it to work the way I wanted so I compromised.
Chapter Thirteen - For Every Action
Gandalf disappeared again to inform Treebeard of the situation, taking with him Aragorn, Legolas and Gimli. Théoden and Éomer returned to their people also to explain the situation. Merry and Pippin hurried back to their stockpile of food, though Pippin continually cast covetous glances in Gandalf's direction, making Dídauar wary of the object that had been thrown from Orthanc. Feeling out of place, Dídauar wandered to the outer rim of Isengard, the ruins of a wall marking the boundary. Her gaze was turned to the south east, though it was not Mordor that entertained her thoughts.
"It does not look pleasant wherever you are," commented Aragorn as he appeared beside his twin half an hour later.
"Nothing is pleasant when looked upon with regret," said Dídauar. "If I had my life back once more, I would change so many things."
"That is not an uncommon desire, simply look to the Rohirrim. But there is no telling what would happen if you did," said Aragorn. "Things happen as they do for a reason though that may be hard to see or understand at the time."
"I will never understand why it is the young who are taken before the old," growled Dídauar. She turned around and sat on the sodden rock behind her. "This was a beautiful place once," she said with a sigh. Aragorn smiled.
"I remember having to retrieve Théoden and Byrde from a ledge on the battlements," he said.
"Ah yes, Thorongil the hero," grinned Dídauar. "Byrde brought that story into every conversation possible. I'm sure if you mentioned it now, Théoden would still turn red."
"Maybe I will try over dinner," said Aragorn, a mischievous spark appearing in his eye. Dídauar rolled her eyes.
"You can sit opposite him in that case. And explain to Éomer why his uncle is choking," she said.
"It is not my fault that he is afraid of heights. How he survived on his visits to Minas Tirith I do not know," protested Aragorn.
"By not looking out the window or straying to the walls," replied Dídauar. "What would have happened if we had agreed to help Saruman in his search for the Ring while we were still in Thengel's service?"
"We wouldn't be alive," replied Aragorn. "We would either had died in the attempt to find the Ring or Saruman would have sold us out at the first available opportunity. It would not have been hard to persuade the people that our intimate behaviour with each other was more debauched in nature than we protested."
"Eadwig and Cempa will be pleased," said Dídauar with a sad smile. "Neither were appreciative of Saruman's 'help', it usually resulting in one or other of them being injured somehow."
"What is wrong?" Aragorn asked suddenly.
"Your pardon?"
"I may not be not a sage or Elf, but I am your brother. Something has had you agitated since your arrival. What is it?"
"I was betrayed," replied Dídauar. Aragorn stiffened.
"By who?" he demanded.
"Galadriel," said Dídauar. Now it was Aragorn's turn to be confused.
"How? You haven't spoken to her for years!"
"Boromir could have been saved," said Dídauar. Aragorn was getting even more confused.
"Small words and proper sentences," he requested. "I was in battle less than a day ago and have yet to sleep."
"I had a vision. Four times. In it I watched first Théodred, then Boromir, struck down in battle with Orcs. I spoke to Lord Elrond after the third time and he said he would speak to Galadriel. I rode out to Rohan, intent on saving Théodred, only to arrive too late so I turned my attention to his people. It was my understanding that you would have been informed about Boromir's fate while you were still in Lothlórien and thus not go by Sarn Gebir," explained Dídauar. "I was distressed to find that Galadriel had not told you and that Boromir was also dead, hence my agitation and temper in the battle. It did not help that Orophin was also slain, defending a people that did not even know his name."
"You seem to be remarkably calm about this," commented Aragorn.
"Who would you have me take my temper out on?" Dídauar asked. "Galadriel? She is leagues away and far more powerful than me. I would be lucky to make it to her talon untouched. Our people? They have had to deal with me becoming increasingly tetchy in the past month and I would like for the Rohirrim to listen when I speak. I have no other choice but to accept what has happened."
"My ear is there if you wish to chew. And I will act as a punch bag if speaking does not relieve your pent up frustration," said Aragorn, wrapping an arm about Dídauar's shoulders. Dídauar rested her head against Aragorn's shoulder.
"Thank you," she murmured. Aragorn increased his grip and pressed a kiss to the top of Dídauar's head.
The survivors of the Helm's Deep battle who had accompanied Gandalf to Isengard spent until mid-afternoon in the ruined stronghold of Saruman, resting from the battle and journey as well as taking their fill of the stockpile of food that Saruman had collected. They were 'kind' enough to leave some for the fallen wizard and his servant but it was meagre picking at best. Still, as one of the warriors had put it, they had been surviving on little better since Wormtongue had managed to utter his whispers straight into Théoden's ear. Both Éomer and Théoden found it difficult to deny them their small luxuries, especially when the defence was argued in such a way.
Pippin also managed to cause a panic.
Gandalf had become engaged in a conversation with Quickbeam. For all the rumours about being 'hasty', they were obviously from an Ent's perspective because the young Ent took just as long to say 'good day' as Treebeard did, and Gandalf had found himself distracted. Pippin, who had spent the morning sending covetous looks in the direction of Gandalf's pack, saw his chance and snuck the Orb away to one of the nooks and crannies that now littered Isengard. Merry had gone with him, mainly to talk his younger cousin out of looking at the object that even Gandalf appeared afraid to touch. Unfortunately he had not been successful and the warriors in Isengard were only altered that something was amiss when Pippin's piercing cry was heard.
"Pippin!" yelled Aragorn, unable to locate the Hobbit. Merry appeared seemingly out of nowhere and two Dúnedain and an Istari charged towards him.
"What has happened?" demanded Gandalf, as they discovered Pippin curled tightly on the ground, whimpering in what appeared to be pain. While Gandalf demanded answers from the sandy Hobbit, Aragorn and Dídauar went to their knees beside Pippin.
"He was looking at the thing Wormtongue threw done," admitted Merry. "I tried to stop him but he wouldn't listen."
"The thing Wormtongue threw done?" repeated Aragorn, looking around for the Orb, finding it only a couple of feet away, Pippin obviously having dropped it in his pain. A reddish-yellow seemed to flicker on the inside of the object in a way that reminded Aragorn of flames. He reached out to touch the object but Gandalf beat him to it, throwing a cloth over it and snapping Aragorn out of his trance.
"The Palantír," murmured Gandalf. "Well, that certainly solves more than one riddle. But what has our young Halfling done to himself?"
Pippin seemed to recognise Gandalf's presence and slowly uncurled, turning in the wizard's direction. "It is not for you, Saruman! I will send for it at once," he hissed.
"Pippin!" cried Merry, lurching forward, only to be caught around the chest by Aragorn.
"Do you understand?" demanded Pippin, the voice that he was using still not his own.
"Peregrin Took!" barked Gandalf. Pippin jerked.
"Gandalf?" he pleaded. "Forgive me! Please forgive me!"
"What have you done?" asked Gandalf. Though it was plain what had transpired, Gandalf needed to hear Pippin admit his transgression.
"I looked into the ball," murmured Pippin, casting his glance away from Gandalf's.
"What happened?" asked the Istari. "Did you see anything?"
"Tall battlements. Dark sky and tiny stars," said Pippin. "The night was clear but something made the stars go in and out. Something that was big with wings. One of them flew straight towards me and……" Pippin tried vainly to hide his face which plainly spoke of his terror.
"What else?" demanded Gandalf, forcing Pippin to maintain eye-contact.
"A Great Eye of flame in a black sky," replied Pippin.
"What did you say?" asked Gandalf, the wizard not deeming it necessary to inform Pippin exactly what, or rather who, he had witnessed. Pippin's eyes rolled back in his head and when he spoke again it was not with his own voice.
"So you have returned! Why have you neglect to report for so long? That is not Saruman, who are you?"
"What did you say?" repeated Gandalf. Pippin jerked again.
"I didn't want to say anything!" he protested. Gandalf, while maintaining a stern look on his face, cupped Pippin's hands in one of his own and caressed the Hobbit's cheek with the other in a gesture meant to sooth the terrified youngster. "But something pressed me very hard. I couldn't stand it and I said I was a Hobbit. It laughed at me."
"Frodo?" asked Gandalf. "Did you say anything of Frodo?" Pippin did not answer and after a couple fruitless minutes, Gandalf dropped Pippin's hands and Aragorn released Merry. The elder Hobbit practically leapt on his cousin, hugging him tightly at the same time chastising him for not listening to him.
"I will find Culas," Dídauar said before beating a hasty retreat. Gandalf himself settled before the two Hobbits and Aragorn, withdrawing his pipe and lighting it, clearly lost in thought. Aragorn himself continued to gaze at the bundle that was the Palantír, also lost in thought.
Mid-afternoon saw both warriors and horses fed, watered and ready to ride once more. Théoden and Éomer led the troop out of Isengard leaving the Ents to guard the fallen Istari. Behind them rode Gandalf, who still looked deep in thought and he held the bundle that was the Palantír tightly before him. Aragorn was astride Roheryn, Hasufel having now been released from service and allowed to wander where he chose, Pippin held tightly in his arms as the dark-haired hobbit continued to sleep thanks to the mild poppy infusion that Culas had given him. Dídauar was to his left, Merry seated behind her and clinging to her waist for what appeared to be dear life. Avalanches, spying carrion, dark caves, Orcs and kidnap the Hobbit could do. Being sat astride a spirited fifteen hand mare who was 'controlled' by an equally spirited master was another matter entirely. Gamling and Halbarad rode slightly out from the column, on opposite sides, both choosing a position that was most beneficial to the protection of their respective Lord and Captain should the need arise. The remaining Rohirrim and Dúnedain followed in a column formation, the two peoples mingling and neither seeming to care whether his neighbour wore red and gold armour or green and tan leathers.
The journey back to Helm's Deep was swift, the horses suitably rested to cope with a sustained cantor across the Rohirric Plains and there being no forest of Huorns to negotiate. They arrived at the Deep just as the sun was beginning to align with the crest of the valley and were greeted with cheers from the warriors that had not followed Théoden. Théoden and Gamling were also pleased to find that the Dunlendings who had surrendered after the battle had been put to task, which confused the Dunlendings completely, each one of them having been convinced that the Rohirrim tortured any prisoners. Never had Théoden been more pleased to have been proved wrong. He ordered that they finish the reconstruction of the Keep and Deeping Wall that they had wantonly destroyed. They were then free to return to their people. None of the Dunlendings wished to push his luck further and set to the task with surprising vigour.
"Does anybody care to explain what is going on?" enquiry Éomer as he sat with Théoden, Gamling and Dídauar. The survivors were gathered in the main hall of Helm's Deep to celebrate the lives of those they had lost. Gimli was currently passed out on the floor having engaged in, and lost, a drinking game with Legolas. Legolas himself had escaped the noise and smell of ale and was now standing on the ramparts of the Keep. Aragorn and Halbarad were having a terse debate about something but were being ignored by a vast majority of the people. Merry and Pippin were the centre of attention once more as they danced on the table signing one of the songs from their misspent youth in The Shire.
"Well," began Gamling with a smirk. "The men are trying to drink each other under the table. The Holbytlan are polishing the table with their feet and the Lord Aragorn appears ready to throttle his second."
Éomer glared at the Helm's Deep captain while Dídauar snickered and Théoden smiled broadly.
"That is not what I meant," growled Éomer.
"What did you mean?" said Théoden resting back in his chair.
"How is it that a stranger is fluent in our language and how they know you on an intimate enough basis for you not to question their motives in our country," replied Éomer. Théoden's eyes flicked to Dídauar, a warm glow beginning to rekindle in the hazel depths.
"You tell him," he said, before taking a mouthful of wine. Éomer's eyebrow hiked towards his hairline.
"You asked at Helm's Deep whether I knew Faerlain and Thorongil," began Dídauar. Éomer nodded. "The truth is that I am Faerlain. Aragorn is Thorongil." Éomer choked on the water he had just poured into his mouth.
"You're Faerlain?" he repeated once his coughing had subsided. Dídauar nodded. Éomer turned to his uncle, an accusing look in his eye.
"You could have told me!" he exclaimed.
"So could Gambling," replied Théoden calmly. "As could Háma, Erkenbrand or Grimbold. She served with them all, and was Captain to Gambling and Grimbold in the months preceding your grandfather's death."
"Are all the stories true?" asked Éomer, turning his attention back to Dídauar.
"That depends on the stories," said Dídauar leaning back and drawing a knee to her chest.
"That you beat Grandfather in hand-to-hand combat. That no one save Thorongil could best you in sword play. That you had not one but two champions," expanded Éomer, causing Gambling to shake his head at the young warrior's enthusiasm. Still, it wasn't every warrior who could say that they had fought side-by-side with their hero.
"Yes, though to be fair, I was half your grandfather's age. I have scars to prove that more than Thorongil bested me in battle and Eadwig appointed himself my champion. Cempa came as part of the package and was more of a peacemaker," answered Dídauar.
"Háma also said you were very modest," muttered Éomer.
"What else did the scamp tell you?" smiled Dídauar.
"That you didn't care for politics but could still do a better job than those who claimed to be experts. That you wouldn't swear an oath to an individual but rather a people. You were an impossible patient when you were injured. Théodred repeatedly told a tale in which you had been shot twice and sliced across the calf but continued to fight. He enjoyed telling me that one whenever I ended up bedridden because of a seemingly minor injury," said Éomer.
"Politicians forget about the people, I worked with them so of course I knew what they needed and what they didn't. I was not in Rohan to serve Thengel or even my Captains. I was in Rohan to serve the people so it was to them that I swore an oath. To which I still hold. And Théo exaggerated that story. It was only one arrow, and I remained on my feet for another ten minutes at most before collapsing with pain."
"I knew it!" exclaimed Éomer. "It always seemed to grow in detail every time he told it. When I said so, he claimed to have remembered more details since the last time he had told it."
Dídauar laughed. "He mingled stories," she said. "I was shot twice in one battle, during which I was taken out of the action completely because my head connected with a rock as I stumbled, knocking me out cold. In another I was victim to yet another arrow wound and slashed calf. As I said, I only last ten minutes after that." She glanced up to see Aragorn stalking out of the room, Halbarad trailing behind him looking as though he was going against his better judgement.
"Is there anything else?" she asked.
"Why did you leave?" It was not Éomer who spoke this time but Gambling.
"I wished to hide. I couldn't do that in Rohan," replied Dídauar as she stood. "Excuse me."
"Did I say something wrong?" asked Gambling. Théoden shook his head.
"She never liked to dwell on the negative experiences of her life. She left Rohan because of Aragorn, that is all I will say. The rest is their affair."