Idrial's Quest
By Lady Annalease
--
Chapter Five - Rohan, Home of the Horse Lords:
The moment we came upon the open plains of Rohan we were challenged by Rohirric riders. Our new companion identified them as being from Éomer's band, rather than from Edoras. We told them of what Mithrandir wanted.
"Gandalf has long been our trusted advisor," their leader said, "we will do as he asks. What of you?"
"He has asked us to help gather your forces," Berethor replied, "and we seek friends, another company much like ours." The warrior nodded.
"Look for your friends," he said, "butdo not trust to hope, it has forsaken these lands." With that, they rode off, taking our rescued warrior with them.
--
By this time, night was upon us fully and we rested on the boarders of Fangorn Forest. I knew the proximity of the trees made my companions uneasy, and we lit a blazing fire and set a watch, but I also knew there was no danger from the forest unless you were an Orc or Uruk-hai. Had I been in better spirits I might have wandered in the edges of the forest and tried to speak with the trees, though they seemed unusually reticent, but at the time I had other things on my mind and simply sat away from the others, my knees drawn up to my chest. Berethor had put himself on watch first, but Elegost was still awake also and it was he who approached me first.
"I did not know your brother was sailing," he commented. I nodded. He sighed and sat next to me. "Why did you not sware to follow him…or even go with him then?" I laughed bitterly.
"You do not dance around a matter, do you?" I snapped. He shrugged.
"I will admit that my capacity for dissembling is nowhere near that of the Elves," he replied. It might have been funny, if not for my mood.
"Spare me your humour, adan," I spoke coldly, "and spare me any other of your words likewise. I truly do not wish to speak about this." The Ranger nodded thoughtfully.
"All right," he said. I might have expected him to get up and leave at that point…or persist in speaking to me. He did neither. He simply sat there, next to me, unmoving and unspeaking. I do not know how long we sat like that until I finally spoke:
"The age of the Elves is drawing to a close and Aronel has a young family, I do not begrudge him wanting to leave." The Ranger nodded, but made no reply. I sighed and continued, "We spoke of this before I was sent out to find Berethor. Aron was furious when I accepted the mission, right in the middle of our discussions. He had almost convinced me to accompany them." Elegost nodded once more and still said naught. "I…I just, I thought…no, I knew there was something else I had to do and, yes, I would miss my family and, yes, I wanted dearly to see our parents again…and the sea, but…. He was so angry when I told him that, he just could not understand. The only thing he could see that would possibly stand in my way was the oath I had taken to my Lady; Lord Celeborn had released Aron from his own oath when he had asked and my Lady would have released me from mine, had I truly wished it…. He promised to wait for me, wait until I returned to Lórien to make a final decision, and so he did. I think he might have waited even longer, perhaps, except Niphredil begged him to leave. It was not that she does not love me, for I know she does, as I love her, but she also knows that if things go ill in this war we all now fight, Middle-Earth will be engulfed by evil and we Elves could not bare that, it would be the death of us and she wants that not for her son, or her mate or, ultimately, for herself. Only the bravest and wisest of the Elves or those who have some debt or destiny choose to stay…or the very foolish, like me…." Elegost nodded, once more. "Say something!" I finally cried tearfully, for unknowingly had I began to weep once more. "Say anything, Dúneadan!" He smiled sadly.
"You are not foolish, Idrial," he finally said, "or no more so than the rest of us, anyway. It is plain to see that you love your brother and his family, your nephew, your law-sister, and, yes, they are leaving because the risk is too great for them. And yet, I do not think this is what troubles you most, mellon nín, you admit that it is wise for them to leave and, yes, I agree but you have not yet answered the question I asked. Why did you not leave with him? Or, if you consider this quest so important, or even if you simply would not disobey your Lady's orders, which I would find a glib excuse by the way, why did you not sware to follow them if you were able, like your brother asked?" The Ranger sighed softly. "I do not really expect an answer, and certainly not right this moment if you choose to give me one at all." He wrapped an arm about my waist and hugged me tight to him for a moment. "I must go now, we have sat and spoken long this night and I believe it is time for my watch. Know that you have my ear if you wish to speak further, though." He released me and climbed to his feet.
"Le hannon," I murmured. He bowed his head to me.
"Ú-caro leithiach estel-lín, Idrial," he replied. I watched him walk over to Berethor and gesture toward the moon. The Gondorian nodded. Elegost caught his arm as he walked away and I saw him say something, then flick his eyes to me. Berethor nodded once more, and then he came over and sat beside me, silent as Elegost had been.
"You could go back, you know," he finally said, "well I know how fast you can move on your own and they would not have left yet, you could make it to Lórien and fetch your mount and chase them to the Grey Havens…if that is what you wish."
"You heard what we were saying," I commented.
"I did," the Man replied. We sat, silent once more, as the moon passed its zenith and began to descend in the night sky.
"I do not wish to go," I finally said. He let out a lusty sigh of relief.
"Though I would not have stood in the way of your leaving, if it was truly what you wanted, I might have begged you to stay," he replied, and then paused for a few moments, "I…do not wish you to go," he finally finished. I ought not to have rejoiced at those words, I ought to have got up and left then…or, at least, I ought to have dashed him down by saying I was just following orders. I ought not to have done what I did….
"Are you giving me a reason to stay?" I asked softly.
"I need you," he replied simply. Perhaps that was enough….
--
We crested the brow of the hill in the morning and were startled by a sudden scream. A peasant woman ran toward us, screaming for her life; she was being chased by a band of Orcs and obviously had no way of defending herself. The Orcs were difficult foes; they even managed to render Hadhod unconscious before we spilt their foul blood over the land. The woman wept her thanks to us but begged us to save her village, which was being raised by Orcs and Wildmen, and to help the one warrior that survived there to fight. The village was aflame when we first saw it; Orcs and Wildmen ran whooping through it, cutting down those who could not flee. In the midst of it all stood a single warrior, a woman, a shield-maiden, battling against an overwhelming host of Orcs. Elegost cried out that we must save her and we charged in. The woman was a fair fighter, armed with her double axes, she was also an accomplished thief…I knew not what to think of that. However, she was also unused to fighting with grave wounds and she was soon downed. The rest of us, however, prevailed. Once I revived her, and I had no notion of exactly why I hesitated for a moment before using my magic on her, we learned that her name was Morwen as she went about putting her axe through the necks of the already dead Orcs. She said that she had lived in this village, but that her brothers had ridden to war and were most likely dead and her parents had fled and she had no notion of where they were now. I could not believe her presumption when, after learning that we were all headed eventually to Edoras, she said:
"Then you may join me." I think it was at that moment that I first decided I did not like her, despite the compassion I felt for her at her fate…or, perhaps, it was the moment when I noticed Berethor looking her over appraisingly and saw admiration and covetousness in his eyes. My sympathy vanished like smoke on the wind.
"What do you carry that makes you worthy to join us?" I demanded, breaking the mood succinctly. Morwen looked at me and scowled, then turned back to Berethor to answer:
"Wrath, ruin, a few trinkets, that is all that remains of my life here," she replied.
--
On the edge of her town we found a band of Éomer's riders, they had obviously come to help but they were far too late; Morwen's village was in flames, the wooden houses burning like tinder, even I could not summon enough water to save it. We sent the riders to the gathering near Helm's Deep, promising Éomer would join them there. They saluted us and rode off. We headed west through Morwen's village, trying to find the next group of scattered riders to join Éomer's band and following the trail of the refugees who had left the village. We found another group camped at the entrance to a cave. They warned us that it was a hive of Wargs before running for their mounts and riding for Helm's Deep. We entered the hive, blades ready. The place was a warren, paths leading every which way, and it was swarming with Wargs. Skulls and bones littered the floor and one could hardly step without hearing a sickening cracking sound. As we came out of the cave, tired but hale enough, we found another group of Éomer's riders. They thanked us for clearing the cave and honoured our request they continue to Helm's Deep. I was truly beginning to detest Morwen and her ways by this time, hanging how she was all the time at Berethor's shoulder. She had also struck up a quick friendship with Hadhod, who seemed more or less oblivious to our growing contention. Elegost, on the other hand, seemed happy enough to have nothing to do with her. When we halted for a moment to survey our options, he approached me.
"She is a bold wench," he murmured.
"Yes," I growled. He laughed.
"You are jealous, mellon nín," he spoke softly. I wanted to deny it, but I could not.
"What of you?" I demanded. The Ranger laughed.
"I am too old for trysts and intrigues," he said, "but, perhaps, it would do you well to be a little more assertive, after all if one does not trouble to strive for what they wish, well…" he shrugged and left his statement hanging.
--
We turned away from the bridge that would bring us to Edoras for the moment, knowing we still had a few bands of Éomer's riders to find in the area. We passed through Morwen's village once again, the houses that had once stood there were now little more than burnt-out husks. We found another group of Éomer's riders at the edge of Fangorn where we had camped the night before, this was the largest group yet and the final lot we needed to find before continuing over the bridge toward Edoras. The group thanked us for the message and ran for their horses, mounting and riding away. We were soon were met by a herald who said he had also warned all the riders he could - which was why had had to find less than we had originally thought - and that it was now time for us to push on over the Snowborne bridge.
--
We came once again upon the massive bridge and, this time, we mounted the steps. It was unsurprising that we found the bridge held against us, though we had not quite been prepared for the sheer number of Orcs. The Orcs kept crawling up over the sides of the bridge, for every one that fell, another would come up to take its place. We had to fight for every inch of stone we crossed. In the middle of the bridge Morwen seemed to find some sign.
"My family fled this way," she said. Berethor stood close to her - too close.
"How do we find them in the midst of…this?" he asked, looking directly into her eyes. Jealousy stabbed through me, hot and fast.
"I suggest you locate one of their maps," I cut in, my voice cold as I approached them, "since you now prize the cause of these people over that of the Elves…because of one pretty face." I shoved Morwen back so I could step between them and take point. I stalked ahead.
"Idrial!" Berethor called. I did not look back. I did not see Elegost indicate silently to Hadhod to leave it be. For my pride and trouble, I also did not see the Orc that had crawled over the bridge until it leapt upon me. I went down with a cry as the foul creature tried to put its blade through me. A well-placed and quick-thought arrow from Elegost ended the creature's life while Berethor ran forth and hauled the fetid carcass from atop me. My breast-plate was smeared with its foul black blood. The Man helped me to my feet and we stood close, breathing each other's air, once again. I know not what would have happened next had we not been disturbed, but the distraction had given more Orcs the time to climb onto the bridge and we had to turn and face them.
"Are you alright?" Berethor asked me after the Orcs had been felled.
"Fine," I muttered tersely, not sure if I was angrier at myself, for being so childish, or at him.
"I am glad," he replied. Elegost caught up to me as we continued to walk.
"When I said to be more assertive, I did not mean to toss her off the bridge, mellon nín," he murmured.
"I could have, you know," I replied.
"I know," he replied with a smile. We found the other end of the bridge held against us too, with Orcish archers concealed in the gatehouse. It was a difficult battle, especially because it would have been suicide to mount the stairs to the gate-house to engage the archers in close-combat. I had to keep my healing ready for my party, while the rest of them covered Elegost as he shot down the pesky archers. Tired and wounded, but victorious, we dismounted the bridge on the other side and rested in the lea of its gates. Berethor came to kneel beside me as I sat at the edge of the river and endeavoured to clean my chest-plate.
"What ails you, melethril nín?" he spoke. "You almost threw Morwen off the bridge." I could not help noticing they were already on a first-name basis.
"Would it have bothered you if I had?" I asked. He looked at me like I was insane. "I mean more than it would have had I thrown, say…Hadhod in instead," I clarified.
"A strange question," he replied with an odd chuckle.
"Not really," I muttered under my breath. Berethor searched my face, a look of puzzlement on his own. "It is not important," I finally relented. He might have said something else but she called to him, asking him to look at something she had spied. I said down hard on the rocky bank with a sigh.
"You should have pushed harder, I think," Elegost said, coming to my side.
"You mean her or the issue?" I asked. He laughed.
"Possibly both."
--
Morwen, abhorrent as I found her, had indeed spied something. We ran forward to meet the rider who approached us.
"You must make for Snowborne, it guards the approach to Edoras," he said, "I expect Grima Wormtounge to already have betrayed it by now, but some refugees headed there and it must be liberated." Berethor nodded in agreement.
"Good luck," the rider wished us, before kicking his mount and galloping off. We came soon upon the gates of Snowborne, they stood rent open and some of the houses were already aflame. An old man staggered from the village and grabbed onto Berethor's arm, begging for his aid.
"This…this was the doing of a man they call Grima," he rasped. Berethor supported the wretch as I came over to tend him.
"I know that dog!" Morwen cried. "Word of him has spread to Gondor!"
"Gondor?" Berethor questioned sharply. "I thought you were of Rohan." She shook her head.
"Only now," she replied. "My family once served the Steward, but his mind was poisoned against us. I suspect Grima. We must kill the worm now, or he will intercept the refugee column and slaughter it!" Berethor gave a definite nod and we entered the burning village of Snowborne.
--
Villagers, being chased by Wildmen, were the first thing we came upon. We allowed them to run behind us to safety while we faced the rabble. After the battle, one of them informed us that we needed to get past the Great Hall if we wished to get to Edoras, but he said we would have to use the winches, one upon each hill-top, to open the city gates to get to the hall. He said, because of Grima's treachery, the village was swarming with enemies. Opening the gates was difficult because, as the man had said, there were Uruk-hai and Wildmen everywhere and most of the houses were now aflame. After many fierce and tiring battles, and searching for the winches that were hid in the oddest of places, we finally reached Snowborne's Great Hall. The moment we stepped inside we were sealed in, with Grima Wormtounge. The foul creature stank and he leered at Morwen and I like we were some kind of tasty meal. It made my skin crawl. Suddenly, Saruman spoke to Berethor through Grima.
"He obeys me, Gondorian," the foul voice boomed, "you do not." Berethor staggered. Morwen cried out some inane thing. I ran to help the Man, but he pulled himself back to his feet.
"Perhaps, if I slay your servant, I shall be free of your will!" he cried, and slashed at Grima. I gave a moment to wonder at Berethor's strength, not many could have thrown off the dominion of the White Wizard as he had just done. Wormtounge was a truly pathetic enemy, but his two Uruk-hai guards posed a problem. They rendered members of our party unconscious many times and I had my hands full healing them, plus the poison on their lances sapped strength, making our attacks almost as useless as if we had used sticks instead of blades, so my skill at drawing poisons was also thoroughly tested. We finally felled the Uruk-hai, but not without being gravely wounded. As we tended to ourselves, there was a sound behind us. The Worm lived! Before we could capture him, he fled out the door. Morwen wanted to go after him, but Berethor stopped her.
"His will here is broken," he said. She sighed.
"So is most of Snowborne," she replied, but then she turned to him and took his hands tenderly in hers, "but what survives is because of you," she murmured. He did not pull away and, for a moment, I thought she might kiss him, but she finally turned away.
"We cannot tarry here, we must take the high road and follow after the refugees," she said.
--
Despite Morwen's fervour to continue, we had to rest in the great hall, for not one of us was fit to continue without respite. We lit a fire in the great pit in the centre of the hall and cooked what we could find that had not been looted or spoilt. We ate far better than we had for many days. We bared the doors to the Great Hall, and knowing the amount noise it would take to breech them would awaken us, we set no guard. Morwen found pallets and blankets stashed in a cupboard, which was defiantly a nice change from sleeping on the cold ground. The massive hall would have provided highly-sought-after privacy for Berethor and I, however I was much disinclined to let him share my pallet and I laid it close enough to Elegost's to make that clear. I was not sure that was such a brilliant idea when Berethor simply laid his pallet next to Morwen's, instead. Everyone, except myself, quickly fell to sleep soon after they had lain down. Berethor's hand rested near Morwen's. I was exhausted, aching and heart sore and I could not keep from weeping; I tried to keep my tears silent and, for the most part, I succeeded, but Elegost's near-Elven hearing alerted him. He took me in his arms and held me as I sobbed into his shoulder, stroking my hair soothingly until I quieted.
"Here now," he murmured, "is it really worth all this?" He kissed my hair. "What is wrong?"
"I miss my brother so much," I murmured tearfully, "and…Berethor and Morwen, I cannot…." Tears overwhelmed me once more.
"Mellon nín, this has to be more than jealousy and pining for Aronel," he replied. I nodded against his shoulder and tried to bring myself to stop weeping. He gently pushed me back and wiped my eyes.
"Are you in love with Berethor?" he asked softly. I laid my head back against the Ranger's shoulder.
"I do not know," I admitted, "but what I feel is…far more than jealousy." He sighed heavily.
"Betrayal, maybe?" he suggested. "Loss?" I nodded.
"Oh, muin nín," he murmured, "I do not know how to counsel you. This is not something I have ever faced. My heart says to tell you simply to tell him, straight up, but then I suppose that is far easier said than done."
"I told him not to fall in love with me," I whispered. Elegost gave a soft chuckle.
"Oh what a tangled web we weave, hmm?" he murmured. "So here is my cliché advice - follow your heart, Idrial, do as it tells you."
"Le hannon, mellon nín," I spoke softly. He shook his head.
"Do not thank me," he replied. "I have said nothing of real consequence. Perhaps you truly should have pushed her off the bridge." I gave a soft, teary laugh.
--
I had composed myself, and even managed a little sleep, before Berethor and Morwen awoke, so my dignity was preserved. In the cold light of dawn, we unbolted the doors to the Great Hall and took the gate west out of Snowborne, following the trail the refugees had left behind. We came upon a cave-way, carved into the rock, which the refugees must have passed through. Inside we found signs that the refugees had indeed camped there…and some had died there. Morwen found her mother's broach, the one her father had said kept the Lord of the Nazgûl away. I knew as well as she that we probably now entered their tomb and though I hated Morwen dearly, she had my compassion for the fate of her family, at least. The cave-way was filled with Wargs, their claws and teeth tore at our armour and flesh, but we defeated them all them same. We found the possessions and skeletons of many of what must have been the refugees, all we could do was hope that at least some of them had escaped and fled toward Helm's Deep. On the other side of the cave we saw a single Rohirric rider. I also saw the Wargs on the ledge above him, about to pounce. I yelled a warning just in time, then the beasts were upon us. They posed no real challenge, and when we had defeated them, we spoke with the rider. I did not know if I hated Morwen more or less when she smiled becomingly at him and purred:
"You are more than a warrior, my friend." He puffed his chest out and smiled back at her.
"You know me, lady," he said, "I am of the royal guard. I thank you for your assistance and, now I find myself quite alone, I wonder if you would have me in your party." Berethor agreed, but although I might have been imagining it, I thought I heard a decidedly chilly tone in his voice. The rider's name was Eaoden, and he was an outrider for Theoden's Royal Guard.
--
It was not long after we met Eaoden that we came upon the place that Morwen's parents fell. She knelt by the sight of their deaths, marked only by bloody grass, their bodies had been removed…I did not want to think too closely upon how that had come to happen. Berethor reached out to comfort her, something that I could not begrudge her this time, at least, but she threw him off and stalked away. Eaoden might have followed her, except for at that moment we heard a cry:
"After them, my lovelies, we may feast again!" It was the commander of the hated Warg riders, Sharku. I was almost happy he attacked us; I dearly wished to pay him back for all the deaths he had caused. Fortunately, the disgusting Orc was all but helpless upon the back of his Warg and although he could order her to attack us, he could do little himself. We felled him first, knowing he would simply call more reinforcements until he was dead and, so, we broke the courage of his band. He fled before we felled him and though Elegost shot after him; his mount was too agile to allow him to get hit. We all hissed curses after the fashions of our people - each of us had wanted to see the loathsome creature slain. By breaking Sharku's band, we had cleared our way to Helm's Deep.
--
Translations:
Mithrandir - Gandalf, literally Grey Pilgrim
Adan - human
Dúneadan - Ranger, literally Man of the West
Mellon nín - my friend
Le hannon - I thank you
Ú-caro leithiach estel-lín - do not let go of your hope
Melethril nín - my (female) lover
Muin nín - my dear