Here is the first installment of the second part of this story. Reasonably long chapter, but I hope you all enjoy it...things will begin moving soon between our two main protagonists, I promise! ;)
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 Riders were tired from battle and their horses weary, especially those of Éomer's éored. Thus, the journey was delayed. Gandalf didn't seem particularly pleased, but he eventually admitted that beginning their travel at night might be a wise idea anyway. So rather, the small company rode back to Helm's Deep and stabled their horses, then found themselves some rest. Théoden managed to only have to issue a few quick orders before retiring, and Éomer had even less trouble. Aragorn insisted upon treating the wounded however, and would not rest until he had done what he could. Gimli found his own bed easy enough, and Legolas, as he rarely properly slept, wandered about, often helping with the dead, as dead men held little sorrow for him. Alandria did not know where Gandalf went or what he did, but assumed he helped Aragorn, when he could. She herself, however, soon ran into the Lady Éowyn and spent a few short minutes apologizing for her abandonment. The Lady of Rohan was angry but oddly understanding, and soon left Alandria, as she had her own duties to now tend to. Alandria did not mention her father.
Instead, she limped about, trying to find some form of work to do, something to occupy her. She would have offered to go help move bodies - Uruk bodies, at least - but she was not sure she could stand the retched creatures at the moment. As she rounded a corner in the maze of the Deep, she ran straight into a passing soldier. The man apologized and continued quickly on his way, but Alandria paused, hissing at the flare of pain in her right leg. She glanced down at it, and saw dark red staining the fabric, just above the knee. With a muttered curse, she stood straight again, and limped carefully to the area Aragorn had proclaimed the Healing Ward. People bustled around busily, or lay groaning on the floor, and the air was thick with the smell of blood and herbs. It was sickening. Alandria glanced uneasily at the many bodies laying around, fearing to see any she recognized. Seeing the large number of wounded, she couldn't help but wonder how large the number of dead was.
"Alandria?" She jumped when her name was called, and looked up to see Aragorn a mere few feet away. Carefully, she took a couple steps towards him. He immediately registered her limp, and his tired eyes ran across her body carefully. "You are hurt?"
"Not badly, just a scratch I think."
"You think?" He raised an eyebrow, before gesturing to a low table behind her. "Sit on it, and let me check."
Alandria looked at the table questioningly, then sighed, and jumped up to sit on it, her feet swinging several inches off the floor. Aragorn tenderly rolled up her pant leg, and she shivered at his gentle touch, then jumped as it became painful, the wet fabric clinging to the wound.
"Easy, it won't hurt much." The Ranger murmured softly, then carefully pulled the pant the rest of the way back from the cut. Alandria could now see a dark red line that rested less than three inches above her knee, and was about the same in length, horizontally. It still bled, although not steadily. "I think you're right, it's just a bit of a scratch. Your movement must have disturbed it, and caused the excess bleeding. I will clean and wrap it, then you can get some rest."
"Actually my lord, I wanted to help with things. Bodies, or wounds, or even packing for Edoras. I am not tired, and need something to do."
The Ranger paused from where he was ruffling through a small bag of herbs, and stared at her for a long moment, making her considerably uneasy. Alandria shifted, as the turquoise gaze of the man bore into her. "You need rest." He simply stated, after a long moment of silence.
"I'm fine, my lord. After all, I am not the one that battled all night."
He ignored her remark, and finally continued his search in the bag. "You're exhausted, Alandria, I know you are. Now you have the time to sleep - take it. It will help your leg to heal as well."
"Please Aragorn, I cannot sleep here. Not when I know that tonight we ride for Isengard. Please, just fix the wound, and I will be on my way."
He wiped at her leg with a wet cloth, cleaning away the blood, and gently rubbed over the cut with a salve. His eyes flicked to her face, and they were hard, but he only sighed. "Fine, my lady." He said nothing more as he wrapped a firm bandage around her thigh, his strong hands sure and gentle. He was quickly done, and gently patted the wrap, before pulling her pant leg back down. "Have you any more breeches with you?"
"No, but I'll find some. Or just wait till we arrive back at Edoras, it does not matter."
He nodded absently, and then gently lifted her down from the table. His hands around her made her uneasy, but she supressed the tremble building inside her. "Do as you wish, my lady, even though I would suggest rest. But please," He raised a hand, and his calloused fingers cradled her cheek for but an insant as he sighed, remembering her smile from earlier. "Be careful."
She nodded, and quickly pulled away. "Thank you, Aragorn." She started to turn away, and then hesitated, debating whether or not to tell him about her father. But the Ranger was on the edge of exhaustion, she could see it, and turned away instead. Now was not the time to bother him. Instead, she walked out of the Healing Ward, her leg less painful after the salve, and down the open corridor, searching for something to do and keep her awake. She was indeed tired, nearly feeling exhausted, but she did not want to attempt sleep, and now with her father dead, she knew it would be an even more restless attempt. So she tried to find something to do, some task to help someone with, and keep her busy. Most of the men were out on the field, moving and burning carcasses, or wounded, and many of the women were doing what they could in the Healing Ward. But she soon found several families that were trying to re-pack things for the return trip to Edoras, and offered her help to them, so they could be on their way before nightfall.
"Do you not sleep?"
Alandria started in surprise at the smooth voice from behind her, and quickly glanced towards it, before returning to packing wrapped food tightly in a basket. "I am not tired, and the people need help. They should be gone before we leave tonight." She lifted the heavy basket, and grunted as she heaved it over the edge of the wagon. It caught on the corner though, and started to tilt hazardously, before it was stabled by a large hand. Alandria looked over into dark hazel eyes, and the man silently took the large basket from her, and then set it gently into the cart. "Thank you, milord."
He watched her silently for a moment as she began packing more food, and then spoke again. "I did not expect to see you so soon, my lady. And certainly not on a battlefield."
Alandria paused her work, and looked up at him, then brushed her hands on her dirty trousers and sighed. "Nor did I, Lord Éomer. But I cannot express how glad I am to see you alive."
"You did not expect me alive?" He smiled slightly, as if it was amusing.
Alandria shrugged slightly. "I try not to hope for too much. Last I knew, you were riding off to be slaughtered by Uruk-hai."
"Have you so little faith?"
Alandria smiled faintly at his mock-sorrow expression. "Nay, my lord. I suppose this is my complicated way of thanking you and your éored for arriving when you did. Otherwise we surely would have failed, and Helm's Deep would have been taken. We owe you all the victory."
"Thank Gandalf, he came to us not but three days ago, and urged us to follow him. He told us Rohan was in dire need."
"And he was right, as you saw yourself."
Éomer nodded, dark features solemn. "Yes. I have never seen such an army. All from Isengard, yes?"
"Yes. Unbelievable, isn't it?" Alandria shook her head with a sigh. "And so many dead... But please, my lord, I do wish to help these people get on their way."
"Oh, yes of course. I apologize."
"Nay, do not. Were you yourself not resting?"
"Aye, I was, but it was an ill-attempt. So rather I rose and helped with the moving of bodies. In fact, I am still supposed to be helping." The Third Marshall smiled sheepishly, and Alandria found herself smiling back at the handsome, flushed features of the lord.
"Well then both of us should return to our duties. We will have time again to talk." Éomer nodded, and Alandria gestured for him to go away. "On now, my lord. Until tonight."
He smiled gently again and bowed his head, backing away. "Aye, my lady. Good day."
Evening had just arrived when Alandria was pulled from her current task of helping in the Healing Ward by Legolas. He pointed out to her the time, and she quickly understood. "Are we to leave now?" She asked, washing dried blood from her hands in a small basin.
"Soon, I believe. The King rose but a short while ago, and immediately called for his horse to be saddled and Lord Éomer I just passed and he was doing the same with his steed. I sent Gimli with him to get Arod ready, but I doubt the Dwarf will be of much use with a horse." The Elf smiled slightly. "Gandalf bid me to find and inform you, so you can ready as well."
"Thank you, Legolas. Where is Aragorn? Is he ready too?" She had just noticed that the Ranger-healer was not in the room tending to anyone.
"Gandalf retrieved him not but ten minutes ago. We had thought you saw, and would be on your way, but when there was no sign of you or your horse, I was sent." He smiled again. "But now we must go."
"I am sorry I paid so little attention. Just the work.."
"It is alright, Alandria. But come, I sent for your horse to be readied before I came. He should be done now." The Elf began to stride out of the Healing Ward, and Alandria followed with a sigh. "We are setting out from the entrance of the Keep. Dustling will be there." She simply nodded in reply, and followed quickly. The two travelers of the Fellowship arrived at the Keep within a matter of minutes, and just as the Elf had foretold, there stood the King Théoden, Lord Éomer, Gandalf the White, Lord Aragorn, and little Master Gimli, all ready and waiting. Théoden and Gandalf spoke quietly, as did Éomer and Aragorn, while Gimli stood by himself, his arms resting atop his axe.
"We're here." Alandria announced briskly. "Sorry for the delay, I was occupied." They all nodded, and the keen blue-green eyes of the Ranger studied her carefully. Alandria turned away, towards a saddled and bridled Dustling, in discomfort. With ease, she pulled herself up into the saddle and there sat patiently, patting her horse's neck for a moment as the others mounted.
"You all know we ride for Isengard." Gandalf announced, glancing at each of them sternly. "It should take but the night's ride, and by tomorrow's sun we will behold the dark fortress of Isengard, and the White Wizard, Saruman. I need not warn you of what power he still holds. Tomorrow, everything will truly begin. Now - with haste!" And at his words, Shadowfax the Great bolted in a blaze of white, the Wizard firm upon his back. The others followed, not as swiftly but swift enough, and fled Helm's Deep in the clatter of hooves.
They rode down the sloping bridge, to the plains that stretch before the Deep, and to the shadow of trees that lie there. Their horses stopped when they approached the forest, and all eyed the darkness warily. The trees were dark green, and black, and menacing as they curved at odd angles and twined together. The memory of what fate had befallen the Uruk-hai not but hours ago was fresh in all their minds, and none wished to test the wood. But the White Wizard felt no fear, nor did his wonderful steed, and on they led into the unnatural forest. The trees seemed to part for the shining Wizard, and Aragorn followed steadily behind, followed by Théoden and then Éomer, next Legolas and Gimli. Alandria brought up the rear.
Their journey through the dense forest was not terribly long, although long enough for most of the passing party. The air was heavy and hot, and too close, suffocating. Alandria could not wait to reach the other side. Most of the others seemed to share her unease, especially the Dwarf, who stared around at the trees as if he expected an ambush of Orcs to come from their depths. Gandalf of course seemed unphased by the entire wood, and led them quietly. Legolas was fascinated by the trees, continually eyeing certain shapes and forms deep within them, and talking quietly to himself, or the Dwarf, Alandria was not sure. But the Elf seemed at incredible ease in the dark forest, and when they finally approached the clean light of open land, he gazed back at the woods with sorrow in his pale blue eyes.
"Come, Legolas." Gandalf called from ahead. "There may be time for you to explore such woods later, but now we have a task at hand. And you may still meet the intriguing creatures of that wood yet. Come along, now." The Elf glanced at the Wizard, then turned once more to the forest and stared for a long moment, as the company waited expectantly.
"Come on laddie, let's go. Y'heard Gandalf, you can visit with your trees later. Now I'd like to be getting elsewhere!" Gimli grumbled, hoping to persuade his riding partner and friend.
Slowly, the Elf nodded and turned the horse back to the line, even though his eyes still held regret. "Yes. We have other work to do first."
Alandria watched the fair immortal curiously but said nothing, following silently just as before. Night had fallen now, but where the lands should have been black, there was a faint, glowing red light coming from the West, towards Isengard. They pointed their journey in it's direction, just as the pale moon rose, it's silver sheen of light contrasting harshly with the black night and red glows of burning. They rode leisurely though, shifting from walk to trot continually, and on the edge of four hours since their departure from the forest, they came upon the Fords of the River Isen. However, had they not known where precisely they were, they may have mistaken the River for not even existing. It was known to be rushing and full, but now held barely a faint stream of water, as the rest was bare and bleak. In the moonlight the dirt held a hue of deathly grey, and what little grass was around it's bed seemed too pale.
"Has Saruman the power to destroy even the River Isen?" Éomer growled as they rode towards it's bare banks. "His evil is horribly cruel. It shall be a fine day tomorrow, when we can end his reign!"
"Curb your anger, Éomer. We know not what tomorrow may bring." Gandalf chided lightly, urging Shadowfax across the Ford. "Now come, there is an old highway ahead, and it shall take us on a clear route to Isengard. We must ride swiftly now though, so ride beside the road, where the ground is softer on your horse's feet!" The white steed and rider sped into a quick canter, and the rest of the company followed behind steadily.
The palely-lit night continued around them as they rode, and Alandria found a deep peace in the riding. Dustling loped steadily and smoothly, and was as relaxed as his Rider in the night. Alandria had truly missed the pleasure of riding on their long foot-journey from Rivendell, and although she knew they rode to dangers in the morning, her mind could not help but be at ease as they cantered peacefully along the dark grasslands. The speed of the horses turned their orderly line into a jumbled group of Riders and steeds, ever changing places, but always at ease. They followed the highway-road as it followed the river, first a little East, then North, and eventually straight towards Saruman's fortress. Night seemed to fall darker, and Alandria could feel the presence of the center of night, just as the day turned. It was here that Théoden raised his hand in signal, and all reined in their steeds to a stop.
"I am sorry, but I feel I must stop for the night. My horse is sweating, and my shoulder aches from the earlier wound." The King explained to them, and his face was lined with concealed discomfort. "I need to rest."
All eyes turned to Gandalf, and the Wizard nodded simply, before dismounting. "A rest will harm none of us, I think." Alandria was thankful for the Wizard's acception as, though she never would have admitted it, the slash on her right leg throbbed painfully from the riding. Once the Wizard spoke, however, Alandria caught sight of a stream of dark smoke coming from the West. It shimmered and glinted silver in the pale moonlight, but was dark underneath.
"There is smoke, there to the West." She said, and all turned to gaze upon it.
"What is it?" Asked Gimli quietly.
"Evil of Saruman, no doubt." Éomer grumbled, but Gandalf shook his head.
"Nay, I do not believe this is his doing. But no matter, tomorrow we shall find out. Rest now, I will take first watch."
All obeyed the Wizard, and camped meagerly beside the still-bare River. They made no fire, and ate nothing, only laid down to rest. Alandria again tried to refrain from sleeping, but had no excuse to keep her weary mind awake. She tried to focus on the cold, uncomfortable ground, but slowly still, in the dark silence of the night, her eyes slid unwillingly shut. The unwanted sleep that befell her was dark and still in the beginning, surprisingly peaceful and deep. But then came sharp images of a dark, stone pathway between walls of a mountain; an unexplainable glimmer of pearl against a pale mountain, so bright it could not clearly be seen; the dark chain of black mountains, glowering fire behind them; strong horses and tall, helmed men galloping towards a battle, and the chilling screech of something horribly foul; then a huge, black, winged beast feeding on the carcass of a white horse. The flashes of unknown scenes repeated, blurring into one scene of mountains and darkness and Riders and death.
Alandria was shocked awake by the cry of Legolas, who had been on watch. All others jumped awake around her, and she fought to control her breathing, wiping away the faint sheen of sweat across her face before any noticed. The dream made no sense, but it frightened her in an unexplainable way. In a way that felt as if she'd had the dream, or something very simliar, before. Her heartbeat slowed though, as she turned her attention to the Elf. But she could hardly see him. The moon had vanished, leaving only the faint glitter of stars overhead. In the darkness though, she became suddenly aware of a menacing, black mass slowly coming towards the company, rolling North. Alandria grasped her sword, still sheathed at her hip, and freed it from it's binding. Éomer, who was nearby, followed suit, and Gimli clung to his large axe.
"At ease!" Gandalf called, a faint, pale glow before them. "Re-sheath your weapons and let it pass by! It will not harm us."
Slowly, Alandria, Éomer, and Gimli did as the Wizard bade, and waited tensely for the unnerving shadow to pass. It overbore them, blocking out all but the fewest stars overhead, and wrapping them in grey mist and black shadow. Odd whispers and rustling came from the depths of the darkness, and it terrified Alandria to her depths, but she held still. Steadily the darkness passed, leaving the company once more alone in the pale night.
Although Gandalf assured them they would be fine and have no more trouble during the night, none could now sleep - Alandria least of all, the nightmare still heavy on her mind. She sat silently, as did they all, each staring at nothing and deep in their own thoughts. Until, some short time later, a deep rumble was heard. Each of the travellers looked at each other in question, but none said anything. Gimli reached for his axe again, but then they saw it - the River of Isen was re-filling, and what had previously been a rumble became a rush and gurgle of free water flowing over the empty bed. It seemed to come from nowhere, and brought more confusion to all their minds, but the gentle stream's chatter was a small comfort in the dark.