I'm really not sure if I like this chapter or not..it just felt odd when I was writing it, if that makes sense. I hope it goes alright. Also - I like to keep the story I'm writing on my computer a few chapters ahead of what I'm posting, and right now I've hit a bit of a block. And I certainly know that when you force yourself to keep writing, it's not often very good. So please forgive any 'questionable' chapters that may arise lol.
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 city of Edoras packed quickly and effeciently, and was on the brink of ready before the sun was far in the sky. Alandria had helped with the readying of several families, and had returned to Meduseld to check the rooms and be sure all knew they were to leave soon. Most of the chambers were empty of people, save a few, and they were near ready. She nodded to herself, and gently played with the hilt of her sword as she strode, until she heard voices in the Golden Hall. A few servants scuttled about, finishing packing chests of clothes, but they spoke little, if at all. The sharp clang of metal-on-metal caused her jump, and her skin pricked with caution. She trode softly to the edge of the Hall, and watched warily from the shadows. Her caution was not needed, and she released the tight grip on her sword as her eyes fell upon her Lady Èowyn and the Lord Aragorn. They stood before each other, Èowyn stiff and with a sword drawn, Aragorn relaxed with his long Elvish knife out. The clash had been their weapons together, but it had not been in battle, for now the man relaxed even more, and sheathed his weapon.
Alandria could not catch the soft words exchanged between the two, and as the Lady's back was to her she could interpret little of the mood. Aragorn seemed at ease however, and merely interested, perhaps slightly confused - and sad. A faint sorrow shimmered in his eyes, but with a bow, he then turned and left the golden-haired lady to herself. Alandria now stepped forward, loudly so as to convince her Lady she was only now approaching.
Èowyn turned in surprise, blue eyes wide, but then smiled grandly upon seeing her friend. "Alandria! I am so glad to see you! For all the hours you have been here, I fear we've hardly spoken. And there is so much to say!"
"Aye, my lady." Alandria replied politely. "Much indeed. But we have the long road to Helm's Deep before us, and much talking will be used then. Let us be ready for now, and go gather to set out."
"You are right. I am done here, only storing weapons."
"We are bringing these?" Alandria gazed down at the chest of clothing and weapons in surprise. "It will be much too heavy, and take too long."
"Nay, we are not bringing them. Merely storing them away, for...when we return." She paused, then added quietly with a long look at a sword. "If we return."
"My lady," Alandria started softly, her hand resting on her friend's arm. "We will return, do not doubt. It will take more than Isengard to defeat the people of Rohan."
Èowyn smiled softly, looking back up at her friend, and nodded. "I hope so."
"As do I. Now come, let us retrieve our horses and meet outside the gate, such as your uncle has instructed. Last I saw, few villagers had still to pack. They should be done by now, and we can be on our way." The neice of the king nodded and obeyed, and together the Women of Rohan left Meduseld for what they knew could likely be the last time.
They went to the stables, where Alandria found Dustling already sadled, bridled, and ready - thanks to the commands of Aragorn. Èowyn did not have her own horse to take, and instead was to help any villagers with their belongings and steeds. Alandria mounted smoothly, and Dustling walked slowly with the Lady Èowyn, until they came to the gates. There waited Thèoden, Hàma, Gamling, Aragorn, Legolas, and Gimli, all on their horses and éoden nodded at the two women when they arrived, and then paced his horse before the long, long line of people behind him.
"My people of Rohan!" He yelled, voice carrying in the wind. "We leave today for safety, but not for defeat! We will return! Do not be frightened, for it will be many more days before the People of the West Plains are diminished! Today we leave for Helm's Deep, but we will not end there! Have faith, we will return!" He then turned his horse, Snowmane, and nudged him into a quick trot to lead the journey to Helm's Deep. He was flanked by his guards and Aragorn, then Legolas and Gimli took up behind. Alandria stayed with her Lady, dismounting Dustling and walking together with her. They had scarcely made it half a mile from the gates of Edoras, the horses slowed to a walk, and Èowyn turned to Alandria.
"Now, will you tell me your story?"
Alandria cocked an eyebrow and a faint smiled passed the edge of her mouth, before quickly fading, and it might not have been there at all. "You're urgent."
"And why shouldn't I be? You are my friend, and you vanished for months, telling only me that you were leaving on an urgent errand, and going west. That's all I knew, Alandria! And then your horse shows up, without you! I think I've earned an explanation."
Alandria nodded somberly, although the Lady's words were light, they were true. "Aye, you are right. But it is a long tale, Èowyn, and I am not sure what is my place to say.." She trailed off, and her eyes strayed to where the three remnants of the Fellowship rode.
Èowyn's gaze followed, and she nodded in understanding. "Then tell what you feel can be told."
"It is long, but I will try to make it briefer." Alandria sighed, glancing at her friend, who waited patiently, and carefully began. "I was summoned by Gandalf summer of last year. He told me that in Rivendell, or Imladris, haven of the Elves, there was to be a Council to decide the fate of Middle-earth. He told me I would be needed there, and although I did not know what he meant, I went anyway. In the utmost secrecy, as he had asked. His call to me had been late, and the travel of even a single Rider across the Gap of Rohan and hidden from Isengard is difficult, so I arrived late as well. But in time for the Council. There were Men, Dwarves, Elves, Gandalf, and then a hobbit."
"A hobbit?" Èowyn interrupted, the word unknown to her.
"Hobytla." Alandria explained in the Rohirric tounge. "Little People, from the West. I had seen a few and heard of them when we lived North, but that was over ten years ago. It was indeed a hobbit though. He is the one this story is based around. He has-" She stopped then, watching Aragorn and his company. She was unsure whether to tell about the Ring, but then remembered Legolas' gift of hearing. Surely he knew what her and the Lady were saying, and if he felt it was dangerous ground, he would stop her. So she took a breath, and continued, leaning closer to Èowyn and lowering her voice nonetheless. "You have heard of the Dark Lord's quest, yes? Other than to kill and destroy anything good." Her lip curled in disgust, but Èowyn nodded slowly.
"Aye, I've heard he seeks for a..jewel, of sorts. A ring, some say. One of the Rings of Old, from ages ago."
Alandria nodded. "The Ring, my lady. That is what the hobbit had."
Èowyn's dark blue eyes widened, bold against her porcelain skin. "The Ring? How is that possible?"
"I am not sure. Inherited, of sorts, I think. But back to the story - the hobytla, Frodo, chose to go on a...misson, or quest," Her heart ached at the memory of Pippin's cheerful words of "misson..quest...thing", before it all began. "to destroy the Ring, in the Mountain of Fire. Elrond, the lord of Rivendell, commanded that he would need a company to help him on this quest. Gandalf stepped forward of course, and then the Lord Aragorn," She nodded up at the dark-haired man and her Lady looked as well, her blue eyes shining upon him. "Then Legolas, the Elf, and Gimli the Dwarf. Then there was Boromir, of Gondor-"
"Boromir!" Alandria balked in surprise at the recognition in her Lady's cry. "So that is where he was headed? All he told us was that he could not say much, and was pressed for time, but we would surely hear of it later. Rivendell was his destination?"
"My lady," Alandria started slowly, watching her friend warily. "What are you talking about?"
"Not even a week after you left, Alandria, Boromir, son of Denethor, arrived at Edoras. He had been traveling from Minas Tirith, and asked for one of our horses to bear him on his journey. As I said, he would not tell where, but we did not press him. Alas, it is grand news to hear he arrived at the Elf-city safely! But," Èowyn paused, only now studying Aragorn, Legolas and Gimli, then turning carefully back to her dark-haired friend. "He is not with your company. He did not.."
"In time." Alandria murmured, and much to her Lady's confusion, her green gaze fell to the ground before her feet, and her features became even more somber than they had been. "But yes, the soldier joined us, and then I. Then three more of the hobbits appeared, and each also joined. We were the Fellowship then, as Lord Elrond named us. Eventually we set out, and travelled for leagues upon leagues for weeks, testing even the great mountain Caradhras and it's fury. But we were forced to go underground, through the Mines of Moria."
"Moria!" Èowyn exclaimed, for the mines were known even in Rohan.
"Aye, Moria. Many dangers we fought and passed in there, but now is not the time to name them. Until, in the end, we lost Gandalf."
Now Èowyn's brows furrowed, and she shook her head in confusion. "Lost him? But I have just seen him!"
"No my friend, you saw Gandalf the White. We lost Gandalf the Grey."
The Lady's eyes widened again, and she shook her head. "It does not seem possible."
"No, it doesn't, and I wouldn't have thought it possible had we not met Gandalf the White only a small number of days ago. But then we all thought we had lost him. The hobbits were the worst off, for he often visited their country and was close friends with them all. But we continued, into the Woods of Lothlòrien. Now do not be quick to judge or heed the rumors," Alandria added quickly. "For it is not the evil place you have heard. Guarded, yes, and dangerous to things evil, but not to innocents. We entered, although not easily with the burden of the Ring, but eventually we were brought before the Lord Celeborn and Lady Galadriel." Alandria sighed, her mind flooded with memories. "They were both beautiful, and powerful, but especially the Lady. She was beautiful and wise and terrible and wonderful, all at once. I can not explain, but ask any and they will tell you the same. Gimli grew to love her though, I think." The corner of her mouth turned slightly, remembering. "And...we stayed for a bit, to rest and be safe if only for a while...it was beautiful, Lòrien, although the trees soon grew suffocating..." Her sentences trailed, and faded, as she fought to avoid the subject she dared not think about. "Until came the time to leave. The Elves gave us three strong boats, light and sturdy, and bid us farewell down Anduin the Great. Many days we travelled the river, until coming to Amon Hen, near the Falls of Rauros." There Alandria paused, and said nothing more for a long moment, her eyes cast on the ground.
"Alandria?" Èowyn encouraged softly, watching her friend carefully. "Are you alright?"
The Woman of the Fellowship nodded slowly, although her being ached to say no, the truth. But that would only lead to pain. "Yes, sorry." She glanced up at her Lady, meeting worried blue eyes, and struggled to smile, but only suceeded in grimacing. "We made camp, to rest for a while, until we could cross the river. Then..." Her words trailed again, and she fought to keep down the images of battle, sighing shakily. As she continued, her voice became quieter, and rougher, choked from the memories. "We were attacked. Frodo had disappeared, along with Boromir. Aragorn went to find them, and then us that were left were attacked. We hid the other hobbits, Legolas, Gimli and I, and then fought our way to Aragorn. He was fine, but then we..we heard a horn's call." The baying echoes of the horn rung through her mind again. "It was Boromir, he was calling for aid. We rushed to him, we did, but we..we got there and...he was..there were arrows in him. Two arrows. He might have lived, should have lived, but..." Alandria couldn't finish the thought, and clasped her hand over her mouth, holding the weak sobs silent. Her eyes burned with tears, but she fought to hold them in.
Èowyn watched her friend in shock and horror, not having expected such anguish in the woman's features. "Alandria," She murmured gently, resting her hand on her friend's shoulder.
Alandria shook her head and pulled slightly away, before removing her hand and struggling for a breath to continue. "Aragorn and the others laid him in one of the Elven boats, and with his armor cast him down the river, where the Falls of Rauros took him."
The neice of Thèoden felt her own pain, hearing such news. "He fell?" She whispered, but did not need Alandria to reply. "He was a strong man, I would never have thought...such evil! Madness and evil, to slay the Steward's Son!" She shook her head in disbelief.
"From there," Alandria began again. "The four of us that were left-"
"Four? The hobbits did not fall too?" Èowyn cried, but Alandria shook her head.
"No, no, pardon but I forgot to tell of them. The Ring Bearer, Frodo, and his loyal Sam took their own boat and began their separate way from us, continuing the journey on their own. The other two, Merry and Pippin, were taken by the Uruk-hai. Boromir fell to protect them. And so the four of us began a chase, to follow Merry and Pippin and save them from whatever death or torture at the hands of Saruman they were headed to. We ran after them for three days before we finally came to the Plains. And shortly after that, your brother and his èored came upon us."
"Éomer?" The Lady's features brightened at her brother's name.
"Yes. We spoke briefly with him, enough to learn he had been banished," Alandria shook her head. "And then they told us they had slaughtered the Uruks we were after, the night before. They had not seen our friends. So we went to where the corpses lay burning, and after grieving for those more we thought we'd lost, Aragorn found a track. He led us to follow the hobbits tracks into the Entwood, and from there we met Gandalf. He then led us finally home, to Edoras, and the rest..you know." Alandria finished with a faint shrug, and Éowyn walked in deep thought.
"I am sure you have left much out," She said after a long moment. "But even what you have told me is far more than I imagined. I had not dreamed when you left those months ago you would come upon such a journey as this! I am sorry, my friend, for all your perils and pains. It is beyond any that could be expected."
Alandria did not reply, other than to nod weakly, and then sigh. "I am so weary of walking, or running. If you would excuse me, my lady, I would like to ride. I think I shall go discuss further plans for when we reach Helm's Deep with Aragorn, if that is alright with you."
"Oh, go ahead my friend. I do not mind."
Alandria bowed her head in thanks, and then quickly mounted her eager Dustling. She trotted up to the Ranger, and Éowyn watched her friend's sudden retreat in curiosity.
They had come to a rest at the end of the long and weary day, and many were quietly settling amongst the collection of horses and carts. Alandria sat on the ground near her steed, leaning back against the saddle and blanket she had removed from him. She watched the golden-red blaze of the sunset, her mind still swarming with the thoughts from her story to Éowyn. She wished she could have controlled herself better, and even more so that the foolish feelings would just leave her. It was maddening, the memories and the pain. She wanted to just be rid of it all. But that was not happening, and still her thoughts were plagued.
Then she turned her attention to the people around her, watching them all with mild interest. Two figures a short distance away soon caught her attention, however. It was the dark Ranger, and her golden-haired Lady, glowing radiant in the sunset. They spoke shortly, and then Éowyn turned away. Alandria watched with what amusement she could muster, as Aragorn dared to pour out the bowl of stew the Lady had given him, just as she turned back around. He spilt the hot food on himself, and Alandria was close enough to see his wince, but not hear the words. His gaze was polite and gentle with the Lady, as it nearly always was. Éowyn then turned around and gestured to Alandria, who turned away at once. She waited a few short seconds, before glancing carefully back. The focus was no longer on her, but Aragorn was nodding, his handsome features pained slightly, and sad. He murmured a few more words to the Lady Éowyn, and then bowed his head as she turned, and started towards Alandria.
"Alandria!" She called, voice strong as always. "I have some stew, if you would like."
Alandria shook her head, not only in the knowledge of what the stew likely tasted like from Aragorn's example, but also because she was simply not hungry. "No, thank you my lady. I am not hungry."
"Oh. Alright. Can I sit by you then?"
"Of course." Alandria adjusted and sat up straighter as the Lady lowered herself carefully beside her friend.
Silence fell between them for many moments, not awkward but unwelcome. Dustling huffed and stamped behind them, before his grinding on grass was the only sound around them. Finally Éowyn sighed softly, and pushed the steaming pot of stew away. Her warm hand wound into Alandria's, grasping gently but firmly. "Why did you not tell me?" She asked, and Alandria looked over in confusion.
"Tell you what, my lady?"
"Your story." Éowyn explained. "You did not tell me you loved him."
Alandria paused, willing herself not to glance to where Aragorn sat. "Pardon? Loved who?"
"Alandria, my friend, please. Do not play games. Lord Aragorn, I have spoken with him." Alandria didn't answer. "He tells me that, although neither of you ever declared it or let it be clearly known, you and the Lord Boromir loved each other. And then you lost him."
Alandria pulled her hand from her Lady's comforting grasp, holding it to herself protectively. "The Ranger does not know everything." She replied simply, but she was shaken, and it was obvious.
Éowyn's gentle blue eyes softened even more, and she was pained to see her friend trying to hide such obvious anguish. "I do not know why you are trying to hide it, your love. Perhaps because it hurts too much, or maybe because you are ashamed. But you should not be ashamed, Alandria. Boromir son of Denethor was a noble man, strong and bold and loyal and much more. It is understood."
But Alandria was shaking her head, unwanted tears stinging her eyes. "It should never have happened."
"You cannot prevent from loving someone."
"But I might have prevented his dying. Did you ask your Lord Aragorn about that? Yes, I loved Boromir. I loved him more than I have ever loved a person before. And then Aragorn let him die." Her voice was thick, and she took a shuddering breath before shaking her head, back-tracking on her words. "No, no Aragorn did not do it. He is wrongly accused. I should never have left the soldier. I should have trusted him...No." Alandria pulled further away from her friend, and stumbled to her feet. "I am sorry. Please, excuse me."
Alandria strode away then, to a hill several meters away, and stood by herself, staring into the sunset. Éowyn watched her grieving friend in silence, confused and worried from all that Aragorn had told her - of Alandria's lack of food and rest and cheer - but not having the heart to bother the other woman anymore. Instead, she stood herself, and picked up the pot of stew to deliver to the rest of the camp.