The pounding of horse hooves thundered in her ears as they rode for Isengard across the fields of Rohan, her horse easily as swift as the mounts of the king and his men. Grassy plains and rolling hills passing all throughout the days in her vision while they made swiftly for the tower of Orthank.
Elwing rode alongside the king's men while at their rear Asterin rode beside her kinsman from Mirkwood and Gimli, she could tell that the pair had slipped into restful trances to what seemed the everlasting annoyance of the rider who could not.
Elwing returned her eyes to the road glancing into the forest that was fast approaching, she felt as though they were approaching another fight, but she only shared her suspicions with a chosen few. Mithrandir, Estel, and Asterin on the final night before they made the last ride for Isengard.
The dark tower of Isengard loomed on the horizon while her and Asterin took up watch for the night, climbing easily into the trees. They sat on either side of the camp and high above the others, Asterin sat with a flexible branch across her lap her fingers dancing nimbly along lengths of waxed string. Her senses were at their sharpest while she looped the string around the notch in the wood bending the branch to tie off the other end of the string.
Smiling she bent the small bow, simply made and strong, but easy to draw. Throughout the last few days, she'd spoken to Legolas and Gimli about the others within the fellowship. Ever since she'd been building a pair of small bows for the hobbits Peregrin Took and Meriadoc Brandybuck, alongside two small quivers made of birch bark.
Setting aside the bow, she sat back against the tree tucking away the small clump of wax she'd been using into the pouch at her waist. Glancing down at the camp she wondered what the young hobbits would do once this war was marched upon with or without the men of Rohan.
Elwing sat in the trees like she did when she was young in Lothlorien, she'd lived there over five hundred years ago, but her heart had always yearned for Imladris. Now she wished she could be that young once more for even with her own kin she could not feel young, neither could she around men, whom she could see as naught but children.
She missed Elladan and Elrohir her brothers whom she'd grown up with, she missed Glorfindel who had been her mentor for as long as she could remember. She missed her father who she loved dearly with all her heart, but most of all she missed her sister Arwen who she knew would fall into the same trap as Luthien. As she looked out over the treetops, she felt melancholy sear her heart for if her sister chose that path, she would lose another member of her family.
Gripping the hilt of her sword she ran her hand over the hilt remembering to whom it belonged to before her, what the weapon had seen before she had taken hold of it. Then she swung easily to a higher branch and sitting down with her legs hanging over the drop as she waited for the sun to rise.
The sun had barely risen above the horizon when Asterin dropped out of the tree the small bows tucked under her arm, landing not far from Gamling, the new captain of King Théoden's guard. The man lurched back, and she stepped away as well, slipping between the other men to her horse and tucking the small bow alongside its twin under the roan mare's saddlebags.
Lowering the bags back down, she moved back towards the camp anxious to be done with what was come today, her bow grasped in her hand while she walked barely deeper into the woods running her hand along the bark of the trees deep in thought for once she truly felt young.
She had a yearning for home that strengthened as she went deeper into the woods, one that was set deep within her. Every day she missed her fellow guards and the woods of her homeland and even now she wondered if she'd ever see the lands of her home again. She knew she would need to see this through to the end because of the threat that followed her friend and those she traveled with.
Worry plagued her every step for her people whose border neared the fortress of Dol Guldor, an evil stronghold for the forces of darkness, she wondered what she would come home to.
The last thing Elwing had expected to find was Isengard in ruins, but arriving at the gates of the fortress they found them shattered, water leaking from within. Sitting atop the wall were two small figures one of whom rose to their feet shouting gleefully, "welcome, my lords." Noticing Elwing he bowed cheekily and continued, "and my lady to Isengard."
Gimli spluttered in outrage as the two hobbits waved down at them, "you young rascals, a merry hunt you've let us on and now we find you feasting and, and smoking."
A grin spread its way across Elwing's face when the young Peregrin Took, Pippin as he was more commonly known shot back with a smile, "We are sitting on the field of victory enjoying a few well-earned comforts," behind her Asterin burst out laughing the sound soaring through the air.
Merry grinned puffing out a small cloud of pipe smoke. "The salted pork is particularly good."
Elwing sighed in exasperation and amusement riding forward and cutting off Gimli's reply and saying, "Meriadoc, Peregrin as amusing as this is would you mind explaining what exactly took place here to result in the aforementioned victory over Saruman's remaining forces?"
Asterin was smiling all the way to the tower of Orthank, when they had moved into the forest it became apparent that young Merry was a fine tale-spinner. She knew very little about the other peoples of the west for in Mirkwood most books were written quite biased against the others if the three kindreds and hobbits had been thought to be naught but legend.
Merry rode behind her while Pippin rode with Aragorn and she found the young hobbits to be very kind and earnest as well as mischievous. She schooled her face into a mask of concentration resisting the laughter that built inside of her until a towering figure neared them and awe-filled her.
A legend treasured throughout her people stood in front of the riders, the shepherds of the wood, the Ents tree-herders were not legend but the truth.
Her heart pounding in her chest she took in the sight of the towering Ent her eyes shining, for she was seeing a living legend of her people the wood elves.
Her horse trotting forward ever closer to the black tower she felt, for the first time in almost a thousand years she felt, like a child by comparison. She bowed her head to the figure as it said in a voice that was both ancient and young, "good of you to come young master Gandalf for there is a wizard to deal with. Here even as we have thrown many stones no damage has been done and the wizard has locked the door to Orthank from the inside."
Her grip on her bow tightened and she exhaled carefully she was worried for many reasons for the confrontation, but her fear stemmed from her knowledge that she had always been quick to temper and she feared that Saruman may know to exploit that.
When defending the honor of her friends and family she could easily be led into the trap of anger, and she found that soon she would need to tread carefully as the white wizard emerge atop the tower looking down upon them.
Instantly her grip on her bow tightened to the point of pain and she looked up at the white-clad figure leaning on the dark staff. Behind her Merry shifted in the saddle she sensed that he was reaching for a blade that was not there, her hand inched ever closer to her quiver as Saruman spoke, "you have fought many wars and slain many men Théoden King, and made peace afterward. Can we not take council together as we once did my old friend? Can we not have peace, you and I."
Her eyes turned to the king of Rohan who looked somber and old to her eyes as he said slowly, "we will have peace." Her hand inched over her heart nearing the Lorien leaf that clasped her cloak and suddenly the king raised his head to meet eyes with the white wizard and said with anger burning in his eyes, "we will have peace when you answer for the burning of the Westfold, and the children that lie dead there." The anger had entered his voice which rang through the air and rose to greet even the ears of the wizard atop the tower, "we will have peace when the lives of the soldiers, whose bodies were hewn even as they lay dead against the gates of the Hornburg are avenged."
The sword of Rohan whined as the king drew it from the scabbard at his side pointing it at Saruman declaring in a voice of a true king, "when you hang atop your own tower for the sport of your own crows, then we will have peace."
Shock had her loosening her grip her hand dropping to her side as she stared in astonishment at the king, "crows and towers, and what do you want Gandalf gray-hame? Let me guess the key of Orthanc or perhaps the keys to Bara-dur itself, along with the crowns of the seven kings and the rods of the five wizards."
Her arrow was out of her quiver before she even knew she had moved for the wizard voice rang in her ears with madness, yet she looked at Elwing who motioned for her to stay her shot as Gandalf spoke again.
"Your treachery has cost many lives already and endangers thousands more now at risk, but you could save them Saruman. You were deep in the enemy's council."
A madman's smile spread across the wizard's face, "so you have come now for information. I have some for you," the wizard drew forth an onyx sphere and Asterin saw panic cross Elwing's face if only for a moment. "Something festers in the heart of middle earth, something that you have failed to see." Saruman turned the sphere over in his hand and Asterin stared up lost in thought as to what it could be as the memory was just beyond her reach. "But the great eye has seen it," lowering the sphere which disappeared into the flowing white robe, "even now he presses his advantage."
Water sloshed as Gandalf rode forward the mighty horse Shadowfax un-hindered by the lake through which he trod Saruman saying, "his attack will come soon. You are all going to die."
Straightening the wizard spoke now with confidence and behind her, she felt Merry slump, "but you know this Gandalf don't you." As the wizard spoke, she reached behind her taking the hobbit's small hand in her own, "you cannot think that this Ranger will ever sit upon the throne of Gondor. This exile crept from the shadows will never be crowned king."
Looking down upon the others the wizard addressed them instead, "Gandalf does not hesitate to sacrifice those closest to him, those who he professes to love." Gritting her teeth, she forced herself not to shoot choosing instead to once more tighten the hold she had on her bow, "tell me, what word of comfort did you offer the halfling before you sent him to his doom. For the path, you have set him on can only lead to death."
She waited to hear more but another voice grumbled out from beside her, "I've heard enough, shoot him. Stick an arrow in his gob."
Her arm shot back to her quiver whilst she said, "gladly master dwarf."
The two archers reached for arrows only for one to close her hand on empty air, "no," Gandalf held out a hand to Legolas who'd already set shaft to string.
Asterin's head whipped to see that while her quiver still rested on her back the arrows were resting in Elwing's hands the blue feathered shafts out of reach. "Come down Saruman and your life will be spared," her friend rode up beside her replacing the shafts when a shout came from Saruman above. "Save your pity and your mercy I have no use for it here!"
A flash seared her eyes as a fiery comet streaked downward enveloping both white horse and rider.
Her horse reared and she murmured a calming word steadying it before looking up to find Gandalf un-ruffled by the attack. In a voice filled with power Gandalf said calmly, "Saruman, your staff is broken."
A thunderous noise sounded and the staff on which Saruman leaned shattered the head splashing into the water at Shadowfax's hooves, "you have no color, no place in this world."
"Lady Elwing," her head snapped up to face the wizard above her as he looked down at her with a sneer. "First-born daughter of Lord Elrond of Imladris, why do you fight alongside these lesser fools."
She matched the wizard's stare saying, "they are not lesser, so it is you of whom is the fool. Saruman you fought at my father's side and now you stand against him, so it is apparent that you are the fool amongst us." A deep-seated anger began burning in her, but she snuffed it out keeping the calm collected mask she'd had since they'd begun.
"The race of men is weak as Isildur has long since shown yet you still choose to trust the Ranger with the fate of the race of men and middle earth. It takes more than a lineage to be a great ruler." Clamping down on the rage that flared in her chest, she declared confidently, "Yes, but this ranger of whom we speak has proven himself to many, to the men of Rohan that he led to victory at Helm's deep, my father in Rivendell, and my grandmother the Lady Galadriel." The figure atop the tower shifted his gaze from her eyes to the sword at her side and the confident smile returned to his face.
"Perhaps that is why you bear the sword of your mother the Lady Celebrian to show that you like her are open to the aiding of men. The Lady who sailed because your father failed to save her, the one he loved most."
The creak of a bowstring was audible but Elwing merely gestured for Asterin to lower her bow saying, "I would rather one with her blessing wield it on the fields of battle than have it fall to rust and ruin in another's hands." Unsheathing the blade, she held it aloft the metal glittering silver fire in the sun and she said, "for on the fields of any land will I fight for those who cannot fight for themselves until the shadow is purged from this land forevermore, never to return."
Seeing his remark fall upon invulnerable ears, Sauraman turned to face, Asterin who still had her arrow set to her bowstring. Addressing her and none other.
"So Asterin Leafall, the Silvan guard. The one who stands beside a king yet is naught but a simple servant."
Her hands tightened on her bow she kept her string slack as she spoke her voice tense with anger, "Saruman the traitor to the white council, naught but a criminal in word and deed." Her fingers itched to feel the pull of her bow but she stayed immobile.
"Always the lesser even amongst your own kin, the ever the un-scalable wall of your bloodline standing in your way. Sindar the greater forcing you into the lowly guards driving a wedge between you and your kin of the forest." Anger surged and she felt the tough line of her bow within her fingers the wizard still speaking as though to an unruly child, "never to rise above your predecessor who even now overshadows you. Silvan, your curse, given to you by your weak mother and ungracious father who abandoned you to the mercy of the Sindar."
Elwing saw the anger flaring in her friend's eyes, the light hazel hue darkening as the wizard spoke so callously of her mother whose arrows had been fletched the same as the ones that filled Asterin's quiver. Whose ivory and silver knives rested across her back, as she looked up meeting Saruman's gaze her eyes shining with anger and grief.
Worry began forming in her mind as her friend drew back the string of her great bow her eyes set on the wizard before her. The shaft whistled through the air skimming the wizard's ear and falling with a clatter atop the tower of Orthanc, "insult my mother again, or the Lady Celebrian, and my next shot will land within your black heart."
Looking up she saw the thin line of blood the ran down the wizard's ear a single drop of scarlet hanging from his ear, and Asterin drew forth another shaft. "I know that you which you want and lest you force my hand I will not give you what you seek, nor will I rise to the temptation of your voice Saruman. I know who I am, I know what I am and I know what I will do. I will fight the shadow that spreads through this land with my last and every breath so that there is a world left that is worth living in. So that the children, of all kindreds, will not meet an early end, or see the horrors of war for the rest of their days."
From behind the wizard, a figure pale, clothed in black emerged into view and recognition flitted across the king of Rohan's face. "Grima, you need not follow him. You were not always as you are now, you were once a man of Rohan," as the figure doubled over Elwing saw out of the corner of her eye Eomer clutching the pommel of his sword anger dancing in the man's eyes.
"A man of Rohan. What is the house of Rohan, but a thatched barn where brigands drink in the reek, and brats roll on the floor with the dogs? Victory at Helm's Deep, does not belong to you Théoden horse-master, you are a lesser son of greater sires."
Elwing winced at the barrage of words struggling to keep Saruman's word from sinking too deep and taking hold.
"Grima, come down." The king ignored the insults looking at the other figure atop the tower, "be free of him," anger spread across the wizard's face faster than wildfire and he growled his voice losing the allure it once had.
"Free he will never be free," the wizard turned to face the man with him atop the tower saying words that were whipped away by the wind. "Cur!" the word audible, even to the men below as Saruman delivered a ferocious back-handed blow sending the smaller man toppling to the floor.
"Saruman," Gandalf's voice commanding and clear making the name sound like an order, "you were deep in the enemy's council tell us what you know." Asterin toyed with the fletching of her shaft her taunt bowstring gripped in her hand.
"You withdraw your guard and I will tell you where your doom shall be decided. I will not be held prisoner here," as the wizard spoke Grima rose to his feet behind him rushing forward his arm raised.
Bringing down what she realized was a small dagger once twice, two arrows whistled through the air one finding its mark in the black-cloaked figures chest, the other landing between the man's eyes. Only for the arrows to have been wasted for the white wizard of many centuries, fell, coming to rest atop one of the spiked wheels that surrounded the base of Orthanc.
Asterin leaned concealing the wizard from Merry's sight, for the sight was not one that young eyes should not see. And as the wheel turned hiding the wizard from sight, she slung her bow across her back she asked, "do we ride now for Edoras or wait until morning and rest for a full day's ride?"
Out of the corner of her sight, she saw Pippin slide off from behind Aragorn dropping into the water with a splash.
"The wiser course of action would be to rest for the night then ride hard for Edoras at dawn, it gives the horses time to rest before we return." Nods of agreement were passed all around and the king motioned for his men to set up camp outside the fort's walls, the men going off almost instantly.
Elwing glanced to the side and Asterin saw her friend's face whiten as she lept from her horse landing smoothly and made quickly for Pippin who was holding the flawless black sphere. Gandalf beat her to the young hobbit saying simply, "I'll be taking that."