This is a shorter chapter than previous ones have been, but I doubt anyone will mind. Again, just another filler chapter...that's what a good portion of the first 1/3 or so of this story will seem like, in case some of you haven't noticed. I'm doing my best though to stick to the story line, while putting my own spin on it... As always, please review to let me know what you think!
Disclaimer: I own none of LOTR - it is entirely Tolkien's genius. And any dialogue and such from the movies are credit to P. Jackson and Co.
The edges of the gold dawn had barely begun to creep past the hills of Rohan when Alandria arrived back in the stable, Dustling trotting leisurely. She and the horse were slightly winded, the beast with a few damp spots of sweat on his coat, but she no longer felt the burn of anger that had bothered her hours before. She reined him to a stop, and then slid smoothly from his back, before taking him in lead back to his stall. She opened the low door, and slid off his worn bridle, urging him into the small space. He obeyed willingly, and heaved a deep sigh of contentment before dipping his muzzle into the low water trough in the corner. Alandria patted his shoulder, and then backed a step out of the stall.
"Give me a moment to put the tack away, and I'll be back to wash you down, mmk?" Dustling didn't reply, other than to continue his steady slurping. "And a bit of grain too, since you've been such a good boy." His back left hoof stamped and she smiled slightly. She turned then, to take the bridle to the tack room, but was stopped by a lean man that sprung from the shadows beside her. She had not heard or seen him, and dropped the leather halter in her hand in alarm.
His lips were pulled back in a snarl and his pale eyes were hard as stones, glinting angrily. "How dare you just run off like that!" He growled. "Have you no caution at all? Were you so consumed by your own self-pity that you would risk your life?! Were you really so blinded by your irrational anger to just run off?! What if the Enemy had captured you, hm? What then?! They would have tortured you for anything you knew, surely! And could you have withstood that? Could you have withstood them? No." He lowered his voice, taking a breath. "Not even you, my lady, could have held your own out there for long."
Alandria stared up at the furious Ranger in bewilderment, having never heard him so harsh or sharp-tounged. "My lord I..I only went for a ride. I stayed right with the walls, it was safe.. I would have thought you knew I came to the stables.."
"I did not know you were going to ride!" He snapped, till flaming. "I would have stopped you if I had known. I thought you came merely to think!"
"Well I did, lord, but..my mind was just so muddled, I needed a ride. I did not think it would hurt."
"Then you did not think! No matter how close to the walls you remained, Alandria, any Enemy could have come upon you easily, for you are one woman. And today we ride for Helm's Deep - and your horse has already been ridden long. He will be tired. If we have need for haste, can we still count upon him? Or will he lag behind?"
Alandria took a deep breath, fighting to keep her voice calm in the face of the raging man. "Dustling is one of the strongest horses of Rohan. He will not lag. By the time we leave, he will be well ready." She paused, glaring back into the Ranger's cold gaze. "I assure you."
Aragorn stared down at her for a long, silent moment. "Be sure he is. And you yourself, be ready. We have not the time to chase after you!" He took a step away, before pausing and turning to her once more. "Gandalf wishes to speak with us once the sun has risen half over the horizon. We meet in the Hall." And then he turned briskly away, leather boots stamping softly.
Alandria stared after him for a moment in lingering surprise, shocked by his bizarre outburst. With a shake of her head, she reached down to pick up the fallen bridle - only to find it was already held out to her by a slender hand. She raised her eyebrows in surprise, and took the offered piece of tack. "Why is it that I have heard none of my visitors approach so far today?"
Legolas smiled faintly. "Because so far, you've only been approached by those that do not wish to be heard."
"Hm. Well I hope it stops soon, as it's rather unnerving. Especially when that happens." She inclined her head towards Aragorn's retreating figure.
The Elf-prince sighed softly, and watched the Ranger for a moment before turning to her with kind, pale blue eyes. "He is only worried about you."
"Worried about me?" She snorted slightly, to brush off the words, and started towards the tack area. "For what reasons?"
"The same reasons we're all worried." He replied simply, and she glanced at him, to see his fair features studying her carefully.
"Well there's no reason to worry about me." She answered, and returned the bridle to it's hook. She found a cloth and bucket, and made to fill the bucket with water from a trough, but the Elf stopped her. He motioned for her to wait a moment, then disappeared. Quickly, he returned with a young stable boy, who then stepped forward.
"I can clean up your horse, miss." The boy offered, but Alandria was hesitant. "No worries miss, I know what I'm doin'."
"You sure?" The boy nodded firmly. "Alright then. The bay with a white face, two stalls on the left." She instructed, and he nodded again.
"Do you want me to let him out afterwards?"
Alandria paused, thinking for a moment, before shaking her head. "No, for we may be calling on him again soon. Leave him in."
"Yes miss." And with that, the boy scampered off.
"Now, will you talk to me?" Legolas asked, once the boy was surely out of hearing.
Alandria cocked her eyebrow again, and made her way leisurely out of the stables, into the rising sunlight. "Talk to you about what? Aragorn's pointless worries? I don't know what I'm supposed to say."
"I do not think his worries are pointless, my lady. You indeed have not been yourself since The Battle." He paused, as if expecting Alandria to answer, but she refused to reply and so he went on. "You are not hardly sleeping or eating, and there seems to be no cheer left in you. Even now, this is the most I have heard you say in days. I understand you have returned to your home only to find your Prince dead, your Riders banished, and your Hall going to ruin, but still - I feel a shadow lying over you, and it is not weakening."
"The purpose of this speech, my lord?" She asked curtly, the relief her ride had given her quickly dissolving.
"You should pardon Aragorn's sudden temper, for as I said, he is worried. Although he has not said it, I know he feels in part guilty of what happened at Amon Hen, and your actions only increase his guilt. When we found you gone this morning, and the guards at the gate said you had ridden off hours before, he nigh charged out the gates himself to look for you. And he would have, if Gandalf hadn't stopped him. Even then he brooded continually about where you might have gone and what terrors might have befallen you. When you returned, the only emotion he found he hadn't used was anger, and it released itself." Here the beautiful immortal finally paused, clear eyes still watching her, soft and sad. "Do not hold it against him."
"I never would." She answered softly, slightly taken aback by all the normally-quiet Elf had said. "I thank you for explaining, and I...I am sorry, for causing such worry and discomfort. I cannot explain. But, um, I think now I would like to clean up, before we meet with Gandalf." She began to edge away, uneasy and fearing the Elf would try to have her explain her lack of sleep and other such 'problems'. "I shall see you later...good-day, my lord." And she turned hastily away, ashamed and uncomfortable. The blonde man just watched her retreat, fair features showing only the faintest tint of sadness.
By the time the sun had risen half over the horizon, Alandria had just finished another soothing bath and was back into her old travel clothes: brown breeches, dark green undershirt, tan leather tunic, leather van-braces, and the light, sturdy, grey-brown boots and gloves of Lòrien. The red-brown, fur-lined cloak of Boromir she cast about her shoulders again, and although it still felt odd to wear, it slowly was becoming more at home across her back. Her chest-length dark hair still remained loose, as she had grown weary of it pulled back into it's long braid over the months, and fell in near-black waves over her shoulders. She was offered a breakfast, but obliged only to a half-loaf of bread, and ate it quickly before making her way into the Golden Hall, strapping her sword onto her hip.
"Good morning, lass!" Gimli rumbled, already in the Hall, Aragorn and Legolas at his side. "I hear you had a restless night!"
Alandria nodded. "Aye, I could not sleep and my mind troubled me. So I went for a ride."
"A very foolish move, if I may be so bold." The deep voice of the Wizard interrupted, and he strode forth from some unseen direction. "But I trust our Strider took care of that lesson." He smiled faintly at Aragorn, then gestured to the rest of them. "Come along now, follow me." They four followed the old Wizard out of Meduseld, and through the city that was now thick with villagers, packing and readying themselves for the journey.
"Helm's Deep!" Grumbled Gimli. "They flee to the mountains when they should stand and fight! Who will defend them if not their king?"
"He is only doing what he thinks is best for his people." Aragorn argued gently, as the White Wizard led them into the stables. "Helm's Deep has saved them in the past."
"There is no way out of that ravine. Thèoden is walking into a trap. He thinks he is leading them to safety. What he will get, is a massacre." The Wizard signed to Alandria then to back away, and halt. She obeyed, and only then noticed that Gimli and Legolas had stopped following the man and Wizard shortly after they entered the stables, whereas she'd continued to follow. Now their aged leader spoke quietly and quickly with the Ranger, who nodded in reply. "Alandria, come forth."
The dark-haired Ranger backed away, and took Alandria's place a short distance away from the White Wizard and the brilliant steed he stood beside. She then stepped towards the old man. "Yes, Gandalf?"
"Do not lose faith in your people Alandria, or the choices of your King. He is wise, as you know, and will do his best to ensure the people's survival."
"Aye, Gandalf, I do know that. I will question King Thèoden no further."
"That is good. I must encourage you also - heed the worries and words of your friends, my lady. You cannot stand alone in these times. And now, only your friends can help you on. Not only of the remainders of the Fellowship do I speak, but all you may find. You will need each of them, before the end." She nodded, not completely clear on his point, but agreeing nonetheless. "Good. Very good. Now, I must leave."
"Gandalf, sir," She started, opening the wide stall door for him as he mounted. "I fear I don't know where you are going."
He smiled grimly, nodding. "Indeed you don't. Have no worries however, I will be back, and hopefully not alone. At first light on the fifth day, at dawn, look to the east." Alandria nodded, and quickly jumped back, as the brilliant beauty Shadowfax leapt swiftly forward, bearing his White Rider quickly out of the stables, and to the golden plains of Rohan.