I was really looking forward to writing this chapter - it's been brewing in my head for quite a while - and yet I'm not sure if I like how it came out... Let me know what you all think :)
And Happy New Year! May it be blessed for all of you!
Cheers! xx
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.
A measure of time passed, and eventually men and their women began dispersing noisly out the Hall. They tramped down the steps, and returned to their homes slowly. It took a while for all to empty from the Hall, and the night was even darker before the building behind her was still with silence. Not a moment later however, and it was interrupted as the thick doors of Meduseld slowly opened, and from them appeared the Wizard, robed in his proud white.
"I thought I saw you come out here." He commented, and shuffled over to where she stood. He reached behind them and pulled forward a low wooden bench, then settled back on it. He was seated for a moment before looking up at her, seeming faintly annoyed. "Well sit down, Alandria." She did as she was told, not daring to disobey. "You were not long at the celebration."
"I was there."
"Not what I said, my dear. But you did seem to gather the attention of the Lord Éomer."
"Yes, we spoke."
"And did it go well?"
Alandria shrugged, not sure of the meaning of the question. "It did not go ill, if that is what you mean. Éomer is a good man."
"Yes, that he is indeed."
"And what of that song, Gandalf, if you do not mind my asking?" She asked, switching the subject, but the Wizard merely gave her a confused glance. "Pippin." She explained. "He stopped in the middle of it, and looked at you. What was it about?"
The Wizard sighed. "I do not clearly know. Foolishness that will not surface again, I hope." Gandalf then paused and looked at her more closely, deep blue eyes studying her carefully. "Alandria, the celebration was to honor the victory and survival of your people at Helm's Deep. Yet you did nothing other than drink in the corner. What is the matter? Is it your father?"
"No." She answered, both honestly and untruthfully. "No, not..completely. I don't...does it matter, Gandalf?"
"Of course it does dear. You've got everyone worried."
"Worried? They all seemed to be having a pretty pleasant time in there."
"Well you don't see everything now do you?"
"Oh and you do?" She snapped, and receiving silence, looked back up at the Wizard. He was only smiling softly, a mischevious glint in his eyes. Alandria rolled her eyes and muttered, "Well I suppose you do. But they're fine, Gandalf. I'm fine. Just tired."
"And yet, you do not sleep." Alandria muttered a quiet curse, seeing the hole she'd just dug. You will eventually have to let him go.
She flinched and turned her head away, her hands insctintively raising to cover her ears. "Don't."
You cannot keep hiding like this. You cannot keep refusing yourself any happiness.
"I said stop it, Gandalf!"
Stop what, my dear? I am doing you nothing of any harm. Yet you are choosing to be hurt by it.
"But you don't know.." Alandria whispered, her hands falling from her ears, knowing it was a futile attempt. Instead she rested her head in them, hiding the distress on her face.
Know what?
"What She said, in my head...please, just talk normally!"
I know more things than you may believe, my dear. And I do know what Galadriel said, and I am sorry, but that does not change anything. You cannot continue your suffering, Alandria, not when it is needless.
"So you would have me forget him instead?! Is that it?"
I never said such a thing.
"That's because you're not 'saying' anything right now!" She stood and stepped away from the Wizard, hot anger coursing through her veins as she began to pace. "You never trusted Boromir!" She finally yelled, wheeling on the silent Wizard furiously. "That first day in the Council, what he said about the Ring, you disliked him from then and on! You argued with him, and liked him even less! I couldn't believe you actually allowed him as part of the Fellowship! And don't think I didn't hear your whisperings and warnings to Frodo about what a 'threat' Boromir was. And you know what else? I have yet to hear you ask anyone what happened to him, and what happened with Frodo and Sam and the Ring - but that's because you already know, isn't it? You know he died, and don't feel anything do you? Except maybe victory - you were right!" She barked out an exasperated, humorless laugh. "Boromir couldn't be trusted! He was corrupted. He attacked Frodo, and tried to take the Ring. And then in return, he gave his life to protect Merry and Pippin, and failed even in that! Boromir of Gondor was a valiant man - strong, and brave, and I loved him! And you could never even give him your trust, let alone care!" She silenced then, her angry words dropping in the deep quiet, her breathing heavy. She only then realized her throat had become thick with tears, but they only angered her more.
Gandalf sighed, raising himself to his feet, and gazing at her for a long moment, his expression seeming sad. "Alandria, I do not feel victory or joy or anything above sorrow at the knowledge that Boromir is dead, for he was indeed a valiant man. Do not accuse me of not caring, for I did and I do. I wish only that you would understand he can do nothing for you now, and you for him, and that the present is what needs your attention and strength." The Wizard sighed, and headed back towards the doors of the Hall. "I am sorry, my dear." And he slipped through them, and they shut quietly behind him.
Alandria held herself together for only a moment after the Wizard disappeared, and then with a choked sob, fell to her knees on the front steps of Meduseld. Her fury was gone and was now replaced by immeasurable sorrow and guilt, as she felt horrible for having ranted at the Wizard so, accusing him of foolishness that she knew was not true. But she hadn't wanted to hear his words, didn't want to face the truth she knew he spoke. She wasn't ready to let go of her soldier yet. Not when she still felt the hole his death had caused inside her to be so strong, so fresh. She stayed collapsed on her knees then, rocking back on her haunches and burying her face in her hands. Heavy tears fell freely from her eyes, and as much as she tried, sobs still escaped her softly. Never before had she been so thankful for the darkness, and the cover it provided.
After a few minutes the tears slowed, dripping only once in a while now, and her breathing evened out. She stared out in the dark night, seeing things that weren't really there, and her words coming out in a hoarse, uneven whisper, "Through Rohan over fen and field, where the long grass grows..the west wind comes walking, and about the walls it goes...what news from the west, oh wandering wind, do you bring to me tonight? Have you seen Boromir the Tall, by moon or by starlight?.. Have you seen Boromir the Tall?..." She took a shaky breath, brushing away the last few tears that fell. "I saw him walk in empty lands, until he passed away... Boromir..."
"Alandria?" She froze at the firm voice behind her, and heard the footsteps of his approach. "Alandria, what happened?"
"Nothing, my lord. I'm fine." She tried to push him away, but he was strong and insistent and lifted her to her feet easily. The door to the Hall had been left open in the Lord's approach, and the glow of fire from it illuminated their forms as he led her to the bench she had previously sat on with Gandalf.
"You have been crying?" He asked softly, his voice low and thick.
"It is passed, my lord."
"Alandria, what happened?" He repeated, but she shook her head in reply, getting a grip on her breathing, the last of her tears fading away. "Alandria.."
"Please, my lord. It was foolish, and has passed. Forget it." He didn't reply, dark eyes merely studying her silently and she shifted, feeling them upon her. "What drew you out here?"
He broke his stare upon her to glance at the still-open door of the Hall, and then seemed to flush slightly in the darkness. "Gandalf bid me to..check on you."
"Check on me?"
Éomer shrugged. "He did not say why, merely that you might need looking after."
"Looking after?!" Alandria curled her lip, turning away from the face of the Horse-lord. "I need no such thing. And I'm sorry you came out here for a useless cause."
He shrugged again, still watching her. "Is not so bad." She didn't reply, watching the dark town before them, and he sighed, his dark gaze falling down to the stones beneath their feet. "I heard, my lady, some of your words as I came out here.." She looked sharply at him, her attention taken. "I did not mean to hear them, but couldn't help.... Did you make it, my lady? The lament?"
She stared at him for a moment, and he raised his eyes again, the dark hazel seeming black in the night, wide and apologetic, appearing oddly young and innocent. The left side of his face was lit by the orange glow of the fires inside the doorway, and his features were strong and handsome. She shook her head then, looking away. "No, it is of Aragorn and Legolas' making. There is much more to it, but I'm not at liberty to tell.."
"I understand." He paused, then continued, ever more softly, "You loved him, Boromir of Gondor?" Alandria glanced at him again, surprise and faint fear in her dark eyes. "Yes, I know. After what Saruman said at Isengard, and the hobbits' conversation last night, your odd actions lately finally became too much of a mystery for me to bear - so I asked the Lord Aragorn if he would tell. I am sorry if that angers you, but-"
"My 'odd actions'?" She asked, and his already-gentle expression softened even more.
"Yes, I've noticed Alandria. You've barely been eating, barely been sleeping...it is clear something is wrong. And so I asked Lord Aragorn, assuming he would be able to explain."
"Oh? And what did he tell you?"
Éomer opened his mouth to speak, but paused as Alandria's eyes were drawn behind him. He turned at the sound of the Doors of Meduseld being shut, and saw the very Man they'd been speaking of walk past them. Aragorn paused, seeing them sitting together, and stared at Alandria a moment before smiling faintly, and nodding to them both, then going to join another figure that stood at the other corner of the building.
Both Éomer and Alandria stared for a long moment at the two figures, before Alandria whispered, "When did the other one get there?"
"I don't know." Éomer quietly replied.
"You mean you didn't hear him either?" She asked, then silently stared for a moment. "It must be Legolas."
"Why must it be him?"
"He's the only one that could have gotten past both of us unheard, of course." She snorted slightly, as if it were an obvious fact.
"Right.." Éomer mused, then turned back to face the woman.
"So what did Aragorn tell you?" She was immediately back to their previous topic.
He sighed softly. "He told me of the forming of the Fellowship in Rivendell, briefly of your journey all the way to Moria, how you lost Gandalf, then of Lothlórien - and that truly is a wonder, you all coming from there alive! - and then of what befell at Amon Hen... I am sorry, Alandria," She shook her head at his sympathy, and he continued. "He then told me of your trek for the hobbits, until you came upon me and my Riders, then how you came here to find Théodred dead." The tall man sighed heavily, his eyes falling. "I had prayed that he would live, even though I knew it was futile. And yet to hear of his death is still hard."
"I know, my lord. Lord Théodred was a good man, and strong."
"None are strong enough, it seems. I will miss my cousin dearly... But that brings me to another matter - Aragorn helped me to further understand some of your anguish: you lost Boromir, and then Théodred, and then your own father." His dark, dark gaze bore warmly into hers. "I am deeply sorry."
Alandria merely shook her head, and faint, rueful smile on her lips. "You'd think I'd be used to people dying by now, eh? No, don't give me any more apologies or sympathies please." She sighed heavily, the smile falling. "I have had enough of them." Éomer still gazed at her though, his deep gaze searching and studying, as always. She finally returned his look, staring back into the ebony eyes. "Why are you still out here, my lord?"
He shrugged slightly again, a faint smile of the edge of his lips. "I've nothing better to do. Are you bothered by my company?"
I hope you are not weary of my company. Éomer's voice was different than Boromir's - not quite as deep; thicker; but also smoother, lacking the underlying roughness she had grown so fond of. She smiled wistfully, shaking her head. "Nay, I am not." She whispered in reply, both to the Lord before her and the one in her head. Éomer smiled warmly in reply, and she hesitantly returned it.
Their short silence was interrupted then, as they both turned at the harsh, raised murmur from the Man and Elf also outside. A second later Aragorn whirled around, and bolted towards the wooden doors, disappearing inside in an instant. Legolas was on his heels, silent footsteps swift, and abandoned the Man and Woman watching without a word.
Alandria locked gazes with Éomer for a moment, and then they both jumped to their feet and ran after the retreating Man and Elf. Alandria paused, once in the Hall, trying to figure out where they might have gone. Then she heard scuffling, and thuds, and quick, loud words coming from the room to her right, and hurried towards it. She came into the doorway just in time to see Aragorn collapse, a glowing orb falling from his hands. Legolas stabled his friend, and Alandria watched in a fascinated horror as the fiery ball rolled away as if it had a life of it's own - until Gandalf tossed a cloth over it, extinguishing the fire and halting it's travel.
"Fool of a Took!" Gandal snarled, whirling on the hobbit. But the curly-haired little man did not seem to hear the Wizard's words, and lay on his back, still, eyes open and staring blankly up at the ceiling. Alandria feared he was dead, and her eyes widened in horror. Merry knelt by his cousin, and reached for him, but was shoved aside by Gandalf as he hurried to the hobbit's still form. Gandalf took Pippin's unmoving hand, and laid his own hand on the hobbit's brow, seeming to wait for something.
"Are you alright, Merry?" She dared to whisper, helping the hobbit back to his feet.
"Fine." He breathed in reply, dark blue eyes still locked on his best friend.
She glanced over at Éomer, who she only know remembered stood at her side, and his brow was furrowed, dark eyes worried. Pippin suddenly began to breathe in shaky, frightened gasps, and her attention was quickly fixed on him. Gandalf still held the hobbit's hand, and carefully held the side of his little face as well.
"Look at me." Gandalf's whisper was barely heard.
Pippin did as he was told, shaking and still breathing crazily, until his green eyes fell on the Wizard. "Gandalf?" He whispered, "Forgive me." He dropped the Wizard's intense stare, but the old man was quick to catch it.
"Look at me." Pippin did so reluctantly. "What did you see?"
The little hobbit obviously struggled to control himself, and he disobeyed the Wizard, closing his eyes. "A..a tree." He opened his eyes, glancing at Gandalf with terror written upon every feature. "There was a white tree. In a courtyard of stone... It was dead." He said the words shakily, as if the mere thought of it pained him. "The city was burning."
"Minas Tirith?" Gandalf asked, and Alandria's heartbeat stalled. "Is that what you saw?"
"I saw...I..." The hobbit's faint voice grasped for the words, as he gasped softly, fear painfully clear on his sweet face. "I saw Him! I..I could hear his voice in my head.."
"What did you tell him?" Gandalf asked urgently, shaking the hobbit when he didn't get an answer. "Speak!"
Pippin flinched, and took a breath, reluctantly replying. "He asked me my name - I didn't answer. He hurt me." Alandria winced.
"What did you tell him about Frodo and the Ring?" Gandalf asked, seeking only one answer. Pippin stared at the White Wizard with wide eyes, and all in the room held their breath, losing their hopes, fearing the worst. "Pippin!" Gandalf snapped, and it seemed to wake the hobbit.
"Nothing." He whispered, voice barely above a breath. "I told him nothing."
Gandalf sighed then, and leaned back, releasing the hobbits hand. "Good." He finally murmured, then sighed again and slowly stood. "Good."
Merry rushed from Alandria's side to his friend, and knelt beside him again, checking to make sure he was okay. The others' attention however was fixed on Gandalf, waiting to see and hear what he would plan next. The aged Wizard seemed incredibly weary, and his bright blue eyes were framed by many lines. He met each of their curious gazes, even the Lord Éomer's, and then he glanced once more at the hobbits, who were talking quietly. "We can do nothing at the moment. Dawn is still hours off, and we need not trouble any others with these matters before then. Once the hours of morning have come and the King and his people are awake and about, then we will meet in the Hall and talk. Until then, I need time to think, and plan my next move."
Alandria was not the only one to catch the word my, and Aragorn shifted, back on his feet from his spontaneous swoon. "We all must decide our next actions, Gandalf."
"I know Aragorn; do not take my words too literally. Time cannot wait for us any longer, and the pieces must move soon, and they must be quick." Alandria rolled her eyes at the Wizard's cursed riddles, and caught Éomer smiling slighty when he saw her action. "But now it is pointless to do anything. Back to bed, those that will, and we will make our decisons tomorrow morning." He nodded at them all, and then shuffled out the doorway to his own errands.
"He tells us to sleep and yet he does not." Alandria muttered, rubbing a hand into her weary eyes.
"He is more powerful than any of us, Alandria," Aragorn answered softly. "He will be fine without a good night's rest. Not all can say the same."
Alandria took his meaning, but ignored it, moving towards the two - seemingly forgotten - hobbits still on the floor, kneeling beside them. "What about you two, do you think you can get some rest?" Merry merely looked at Pippin for an answer, and the poor little man still looked terrified, his skin pale, a sheen of sweat across his face. "Pippin?" She asked gently, softening her voice as much as she could.
He looked up at her, his pale green eyes still tinted with terror, then looked away. "I..I'll try."
"And I'll stay with 'im." Merry quickly added.
"Wouldn't expect it any other way, Merry." She smiled softly, then turned to the three still standing. Éomer's dark gaze seemed gentle, and there was a faint, kind smile on his lips; Aragorn and Legolas both appeared tired, and faintly concerned. "I'm going to stay with these two." She merely stated, and all three nodded.
"Goodnight then, my lady." Éomer replied politely, bowing lowly to her, and then more formally to the two at his side. "My lords." He glanced at her once more, before dissolving into the darkness of the Hall.
Once the tall Man had left, Aragorn sighed softly. He wanted to argue with Alandria, insist she sleep or something, but he had not the strength left for any sort of fight. His odd encounter with the palantír had drained him of nearly all engery, and he wished only to sleep. "Try to get some rest, Alandria." He merely said quietly, and she nodded distractedly, studying the hobbits rather than him. He sighed again, and then quietly left, Legolas disappearing even more silently.
The dark hours of the night passed with Pippin falling into a fretful sleep, soon followed by Merry - although the little man did his best to fight and stay awake by his cousin's side. But they were both weary from the celebration of the night, and Pippin seemed drained from his exposure to the horrors of the palantír, and the Dark Lord. Off and on he would suddenly wake, eyes wide and frightened, but once Alandria assured him he had only been dreaming, he would allow himself to be soothed back to sleep. She stayed awake however, keeping herself occupied with taking care of the sleeping hobbits, or trying to figure out what the morning would bring, or replaying the pointless talk with Éomer out on the entrance. But when her mind strayed to her and the Third Marshall's conversation, it was then led to her outburst at Gandalf, and she was ashamed. Such a reaction had been ridiculous, but it hadn't seemed to surprise the Wizard. Nothing ever did though, or so it appeared. And so she only sighed, forgetting all conversations, and checking to make sure Pippin wasn't having another nightmare.