This post is kinda lengthy, but the next will probably be even longer 'cause I'm hoping to cram in some interaction between Alandria and Eomer for you readers lol. I feel like I owe you some, and soon. I don't know if I'll get it posted by Christmas, but if not, hopefully very close to then!
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' horses raced back across the barren, grey land they had already passed, along the lonely highway, and then through the properly-gushing Fords of Isen. They crossed the river in the depth of night, and once again made camp beside it. This time they allowed a small fire, for the sake of the hobbits, and had a small meal of what foods the hobbits had scrounged from the lockers of Saruman. There was bread, and salted meats, and fresh vegetables, and apples. The two scoundrels had even thought to fill their water skins with the ale they found, and kindly shared drinks with any that wished. It was a merrier stay at the river-side than had been before, warmer and friendlier, even though they all knew much worry and darkness still lay ahead. The company murmured quietly around mouthfuls of food, all except Alandria.
She ate naught but a chunk of bread and an apple, yet the knowledge that the food came from the White Wizard caused it to taste odd and churn her stomach once done. But she ate for the sake of catching the Ranger's pale eyes watching her, and hoped to ease his worry. Her small meal did little to reassure him though of course, and he still was concerned. She did not drink any of the offered ale, having had enough of Saruman's stores, and instead drank from the nearby river. The water was cold, but not icy, and a relief on her dry throat. Alandria was moderately comfortable after the forced meal and drink, and sat by herself a few feet from the group at the fire, leaning against her saddle and watching the darkness with the Gondorian cloak about her shoulders. The rest of the travellers were busy listening to the hobbits account of what had occured at Isengard, and she listened with faint interest, eyes still on the black of night.
"I told Treebeard to take us south, past Isengard, thinking the closer we were to Saruman the less he'd think to look for us there." It was Pippin speaking, but Merry soon interrupted.
"What was it y'told him, Pip? Something about close to danger and farther from hurt or somethin'?"
"'The closer we are to danger, the farther we are from harm.' That's what I said, yes, and I don't right think it made sense to the old guy, but Treebeard did it anyway."
"Good thing too, cause then we come out of the forest, and there's all these dead trees everywhere! Just stumps, actually, and the land was black. We all knew it was Saruman's doing, and Treebeard got real angry - least, as close to it as he can get, I think."
"Hasty, Merry, he got hasty!"
"Right! Hasty! Well then he made this sound, this call sort of thing, and out of the forest came all these other Ents too! Treebeard said they were going to war! So then we all marched down to Isengard, and the Ents set to work detroyin' it."
"And how in the world did they manage that, Master Merry?" Asked Gimli.
"They just tore it apart, of course!"
"Oh yes, they're mighty strong, for bein' like big trees." Explained Pippin. "They ripped through those walls like bread, and hurled boulders like hobbit-sized stones! It was horrifying."
"Magnificent, really."
"Well yes, that too."
"Oh then they opened up the dam Saruman had built, and let loose the River. It came out with the strength of a waterfall, I swear, and me and Pip 'ere had to hold on to Treebeard for our lives! But it put out the fires, and drowned most anything that was left on the ground."
"And Saruman didn't try to stop this?" It was Éomer's voice now, deep and dark.
"Well of course he did," Answered Merry. "But there wasn't much he could do against the Ents. His orcs tried, but were near useless other than setting a few of the Ents on fire and even then, once the river came out, they were extinguished. He was stuck up in his Tower, and watched it all unfurl."
Pippin sniggered. "He didn't seem too happy, eh Merry?"
Merry laughed shortly as well. "Not a'tall."
"And what about all the food and goods?" Gimli wanted to know.
"Well some of it just started floatin' by us." Pippin replied. "Apples and the like. So we followed the trail, like good hobbits, and came across a whole room packed with it! Meats and breads and vegetables and fruits and ales and even some Old Toby!"
"Ahh, Old Toby."
"Two barrels there were, one for the each of us we thought eh?"
"Right on. But us bein' rational, didn't figure Gandalf would willingly let us each drag along a barrel of pipeweed, and just filled our pouches instead. Shame really, leavin' all that behind."
"Better than we could have hoped for though, you suppose Merry?"
"True, Pip. Anyway, the rest of that story you each know. Satisfied now?"
"As much as we will ever be, I assume." Aragorn answered now, voice soft as always and a faint smile on his lips.
"And what happened with you all, Aragorn?" Pippin's voice asked. "How is it that you four arrived at Isengard, with two strangers - pardon, milords - when we last saw you all by the River those many days ago? We thought that surely there was no chance for you to survive if Boro-" The hobbit stopped, and there was silence. The lack of words caught Alandria's attention, and her eyes ceased roving the deep darkness to turn towards the orange flames, and the faces they lit. She was surprised to see all shining eyes gazing in her direction, save for Aragorn and Legolas, who's gazes were focused on the ground. She understood their silence and their hesitant - although those of Éomer and Théoden purely curious and confused - stares, and shifted, turning further away from the conversation.
The uneasy silence drew on a moment more, until a soft sigh broke it. "It was but days of running, and then battles. Lesser important matters, ones that can be spoken of later. Now, gentlemen, how about sharing some of that Old Toby with your friends?" Aragorn's soft voice smoothed out the tension, and eased the sudden caution, as the chatter picked up again, jumbled and quiet, and Alandria paid no more attention.
The long-parted friends spoke quietly and eagerly, Éomer and Théoden watching and listening in faint amusement at the tales and memories they themselves did not know. Soon Théoden was drawn away to talk quietly with Gandalf, who had stayed silent through it all, choosing only to listen and watch. Éomer was taken by Aragorn, to talk matters of battle and war. The hobbits entertained Gimli and Legolas eagerly though, and the Elf and Dwarf spoke with them with joy. Soon however, the two Halflings and the Dwarf settled into comfortable, tired, quiet smoking and the Elf chose to go for a walk, leaving them in peace. The stout Dwarf was more content than he had been in days, full of good food and liquor, smoking a well-stuffed pipe, and warm around a fire, in company of his friends. It did not take long for him to drift to sleep in his silence, and soon the clay pipe dangled loosely from his snoring lips. Merry and Pippin took a moment to notice and smiled when they did, before both exchanging a certain look, and glancing over at Alandria.
She did not see their look, nor was aware of what the others were doing, but she did hear their approach. She looked up sharply, and then shifted when they settled down beside her. She pulled the fur-lined cloak tighter about her, as if it could help banish the tension she felt between them. There was silence for a long moment, and slowly, her deep green eyes flicked to their young faces. Merry was watching her, his blue gaze gentle and concerned. Pippin's pale green eyes were nervous, flitting from each of their faces to the ground, and back. He squirmed uncomfortably.
"I'm sorry." Merry finally spoke, straight to the point. "We're sorry."
"Sorry?" She asked, her voice faint as her gaze unconsciously wandered back to the distant, hidden lands around them. "Sorry about Boromir?"
"Yes." The hobbit's voice was even fainter than her's, just a whisper.
Alandria nodded, looking down. "So am I."
"We're so sorry, Alandria." Pippin spoke finally, his voice almost pleading. "We can't believe...it just...can't.."
"Everyday since it happened," Merry interrupted his stuttering friend. "We've wondered if you all made it out alive. And if you did, we wondered how...if...if you were..okay."
Alandria looked up at the hobbits - Pippin's pale eyes finally holding hers, desperate and worried; Merry's blue ones also worried, sad. "Well, we are alive. And I'm....." Her sentence hung there in the air, unfinished for a long moment as she fought to find a word that made sense, that maybe fit. But there was none. "Alive."
They watched her, understanding her weak response, and each sorrowed for her, feeling guilty. "He died for us, milady." Merry spoke again. "He fought long, and hard - much harder than we would have thought possible. He felled more Uruks than he seemed capable of. He died doing something good, milady, but we're sorry. We know how you felt about him."
Alandria struggled to find an answer within her control, but it was a near useless task. She took a deep breath, it was shaky and hinted tears, but she contained herself. "I hold nothing against you, little hobytlas. Never think that I did. I only wish I could have done more."
"I suppose nothing could have been done, my lady." Merry replied gently, and she nodded weakly.
"No, perhaps not... Thank you though, my friends. Thank you." Her dark eyes held each of their's firmly, and they were oddly comforted by the strength she faintly showed. "Now, we all should get some sleep. Go on." The weakest of smiles turned the edge of her mouth, and they nodded, stood and each stepped forward to embrace her. Alandria was caught off guard, and the hobbits hadn't expected it either, but clung to her firmly nonetheless. She took a second, but slowly returned the embrace, glad for their security.
"Sleep well, milady." Merry murmured, before letting go and wandering silently back over to his spot by the fire.
Pippin released her as well and stood before her for a second, pale green eyes still worried. "I'm sorry, again."
"Don't be."
He nodded, but didn't seem to change. "Goodnight." He finally answered, and shuffled over to Merry, his normally cheerful features still and melancholy.
Alandria sighed, surprised by the sudden onslaught of words and apologies and emotions, and drained from it all. But she would not sleep tonight, not again. Instead she turned back towards the night, letting her mind take her away from this place and time, into better memories.
Only a select few of the company noticed the exchange. They saw the two little hobbits return to their seats by the fire, far more somber and silent than would have been thought possible. Eyes of a gentle turquiose and a dark, concerned hazel both saw the dark-haired lady stay by herself, her eyes turned Northward, and the glint of silent fallen tears upon her face.
All slept that night, save for Alandria. Even the White Wizard and watchful Elf appeared to get some rest. But not her, she couldn't, not with the threat of more nightmares. Merry and Pippin's spontaneous apology left her busy to think anyway, and her thoughts were elsewhere as the slow hours of the night passed. At the rise of dawn each awoke of their own accord, and quietly saddled and mounted for the rest of their ride to Edoras. They raced quickly across the plains, all eager now to be back in the safety and comfort of the Golden Hall. Their horses ran seemingly tirelessly, but they halted at noon for the hobbits hungered and the enduring steeds could use a rest. The break was short: they each dismounted, and ate a quick meal of bread and salted meat - except for Alandria. She could not bear the thought of eating anymore of the cursed Wizard's food. She remained silent amid their brief, quiet talking, and none questioned her, even those that did not understand. And then they mounted once more, and rode at a steady canter under the sun.
They had slowed to an even trot as the hours of afternoon waxed, but just as the first tint of evening came, the great city of Edoras was seen, resting snugly on it's grand hill. An exchange of words was not needed, as each Rider nudged their steed into a quick gallop. The horses were eager to be home, and readily gave what strength they had left, their hoof beats eating up the golden grass.
The Gates of Edoras opened willingly before the company, and hails of "The King returns!" "The great warriors have arrived!" and "Théoden King!" sounded. They dis mounted, and both Théoden and Éomer smiled at the crowds of greeting peoples, nodding their heads before quickly retreating up to the doors of Meduseld, Gandalf just behind. Alandria let a stable hand take Dustling from her, and stood awkwardly for a moment before Aragorn rested a hand on her arm to get her attention, and gestured towards the Great Golden Hall. She followed, flanked by Legolas, Gimli, and the two hobbits.
Inside the Hall, Éowyn and several guards, including Gamling, eagerly awaited their arrival. Gamling was already speaking with Théoden, and Éowyn embraced her brother. Merry and Pippin stood awkwardly, unsure who the people around them were, and slightly uncomfortable in the unknown surroundings. Alandria noticed, and quickly found a couple maids standing idle nearby.
"Can you find these two some food please?" She asked the girls, a hand on each of the hobbit's shoulders. "And I'm sure they wouldn't mind a bath."
The girls eyed the little hobbits curiously, but nodded. "Aye miss, we will." one answered, and they both gestured at the hobbits. "Come along then, we'll get ya cleaned and made content."
Both Merry and Pippin were glad for a bath and some more food, but Merry hesitated, looking up at Alandria. "What do we do afterwards?"
"We have a celebration." Théoden's voice answered, and they all turned to him.
"But I thought once here, we were supposed to decide what to do next - with the war and all."
"That can wait until tomorrow. Tonight, we honor those that fell, and celebrate our victory." He smiled gently down at the hobbits. "There shall be food and drink, and perhaps you two can provide some songs and cheer, hm?"
The hobbits exchanged a look, and grin, before looking back up at the yellow-haired King and nodding. "Aye, sounds good to us." Merry agreed.
"Well then hurry along and get yourselves cleaned up!" Théoden urged. "It shall begin in but a little while."
The hobbits now eagerly raced off, and Alandria watched them go with a smile, before turning back to her king and the group that surrounded him. "Are we truly having a celebration?"
"Of course, Alandria. We have every right for one, don't you think?"
"Yes, I suppose so."
"And so we shall. Once each of us here has bathed, dressed for the event, and is ridden of weariness, we shall begin. Gamling, inform all men of the city of the event, as they all fought in the same battle. Tell them a horn will sound when it all shall begin." The King's guard bowed and disappeared out of the Hall. "And the rest of you gathered here - I cannot thank you enough for your aid in the Battle of Helm's Deep. Lord Aragorn, you encouraged me to ride out as a warrior, as a King should. Masters Legolas and Gimli, your skills were greatly appreciated, more than you could know. Master Gandalf, and Éomer, my sister-son, you both brought hope with you, and victory. Thank you. And Alandria, my dear, you should not have been there, but I am glad. You fought bravely, your father would be proud." Alandria bowed her head, ignoring the surprised glance Aragorn cast her, and Théoden finished. "Now each of you can retire to the chamber of your choosing, and I will be sure to send servants to take care of you. Meet back here in the Hall, once ready." And he bowed his head to them all, before retreating to his own chambers.
Each of the company quickly dispersed, Éowyn included, obeying the King's commands. Alandria was finding her way to the chamber she had used at her last stay in the Hall, but was stopped at a hand on her arm. She started in surprise, and turned to face her opponent. It was Aragorn, and his blue-green eyes stared into her green ones intensely.
"Aragorn?" She asked in confusion.
"Your father is dead?" He bluntly asked, and she flinched slightly before nodding. "In the battle?....how?"
Alandria shifted and dropped his gaze, lowering her voice. "He fell to...to defend you."
"Me?" Her reply was clearly a shock to the Ranger, and he released his hold, pale eyes widening in horror. "How do you know this?"
"Legolas. He saw."
"And neither of you thought to tell me?"
"We did not want to...burden you."
"Burden me? Alandria," He held her shoulders gently now, forcing her to look into his gentled eyes. "Your father died protecting me, whom he hardly knew. Because of that, you have lost another one you love. You have no family now. I think I deserve to be burdened." She remained silent, unsure what to say, suddenly struck by the horror of what the Ranger had just said. She had no family. No Boromir. Other than the Man before her, the Elf, Dwarf, and perhaps the little hobbits elsewhere, she had no one.
"It does not matter." She finally answered, unaware of what exactly she was even saying. "Things cannot be changed."
"Alandria," Aragorn's features grew concerned. "I am sorry if-"
"Please my lord, just let it be. I would like to get a bath now, if you do not mind. We must be ready for the celebration tonight." She carefully twisted out of his light hold, and backed away. "I will see you later, Aragorn."
He bowed his head, sighing, with nothing else to say. "Till later, my lady."