AN: We're getting into the thick of it! Also, I was rereading some of the earlier chapters, and it's crazy to see how much my style has changed, but also how much Alysae has changed. Somehow, somewhere, she grew up. Can you tell that I've been spending my days typing away haha? I've enrolled my best friend to beta read :)
Ten Duel Commandments: I'm glad you liked it! Unfortunately, Haldir had to die :( But there's still hope for Alysae ;) And yes, Saruman, I honestly didn't expect him to say what he said but it happened and I'm rolling with it. I promise everything will make sense later. I'm glad that it's taking your mind off (ew) job-hunting tho! Hope you'll like this one too :)
.Chapter 31- Horrors and Horses.
The Golden Hall was quiet, the earlier revelry fading into the calm of the night. Alysae lay on her cot beside Éowyn, who had already drifted into a deep sleep. The warmth of the fire and the comfort of the soft blankets should have lulled Alysae into sleep, but her mind was restless, the shadows of their journey still clinging to her thoughts.
She turned onto her side, trying to find a more comfortable position. As her eyes fluttered shut, a strange sensation pricked at her awareness. It was subtle at first, like a faint chill in the air or a whisper of wind that didn't belong in the enclosed space of the hall. Alysae dismissed it as her mind playing tricks on her, but the unease persisted, growing stronger.
A sudden surge of cold washed over her, startling her fully awake. Alysae sat up, her senses on high alert, her pulse quickening. The fire in the hearth had burned low, casting long, flickering shadows on the walls. She scanned the room, but nothing seemed out of place—nothing, except for the heavy, oppressive feeling that now pressed down on her chest, making it difficult to breathe.
She could hear faint murmurs, indistinct and distant, as if coming from the depths of her mind rather than from any source within the hall. The voices were unintelligible, but their tone was dark, sinister, filled with malice.
Alysae clutched the edge of her blankets, trying to shake off the feeling of dread that had settled over her. But then, without warning, the world around her seemed to shift, tilting dangerously as the shadows lengthened and deepened. The murmurs grew louder, more insistent, and the air became thick and stifling.
A sudden wave of nausea hit her, and she squeezed her eyes shut, willing the darkness to recede. But instead, it grew, swallowing her whole. The hall, Éowyn, the fire—all of it faded away as Alysae was plunged into a void of suffocating blackness.
She was falling, tumbling through the abyss, and no matter how hard she tried, she couldn't find her footing. The darkness was alive, twisting and writhing around her, and within it, she sensed something watching her, something ancient and malevolent.
And then she saw it—a great, burning eye, wreathed in flame, staring directly at her. Its gaze was piercing, filled with an unyielding hunger. It saw everything—her fears, her weaknesses, her very soul laid bare before it.
"Alysae..."
The voice was a hiss, cold and terrible, echoing in her mind. It was Sauron, the Dark Lord himself, reaching out to her through the void.
"Alysae... Come to me..."
Alysae's heart pounded in terror as she fought to pull away from the eye's relentless gaze. But she was powerless, trapped in the darkness, her strength draining away with every passing second. The eye burned brighter, its malice searing into her very being, and she felt herself slipping away, sinking deeper into despair.
And then, just as suddenly as it had begun, it was over.
Alysae jolted awake, gasping for breath, her body trembling uncontrollably. She was back in the Golden Hall, lying on her cot beside Éowyn, who was still sound asleep. The fire had burned down to embers, casting weak, flickering light across the room.
It had been a nightmare, but it felt like more than that. The darkness, the eye, Sauron's voice—they had been too real, too vivid to be mere figments of her imagination.
Alysae hugged her knees to her chest, pulling the blankets tightly around her. She felt a cold sweat on her skin, and her heart refused to slow its frantic pace. Whatever had happened, it had left a mark on her, a deep, lingering fear that would not easily be dispelled.
She glanced toward the door, half-expecting to see someone there, but the room was as it had been before. Yet, she couldn't shake the feeling that something terrible had transpired, something linked to the evil presence she had just encountered. Alysae shuddered, knowing that sleep would not come again that night—not after what she had just experienced.
Whatever had happened, she had touched the darkness, and she feared the darkness had touched her in return.
-xxx-
The dawn broke over Edoras, casting a pale light across the sleeping city. The Golden Hall stood in solemn silence, its grandeur softened by the early morning mist. Inside, the warmth of the previous night's fire had long since faded, leaving only the faint smell of woodsmoke lingering in the air.
Alysae had spent the remainder of the night in restless wakefulness, the memory of her encounter with the darkness lingering in her mind like a shadow. Despite the comfort of the blankets around her, she couldn't shake the feeling of cold that had settled deep in her bones. She had been hearing the soft breathing of Éowyn beside her all night, the steady rise and fall of her chest, and had found some solace in the fact that at least her friend had found peace in sleep. But now she was alone, the shieldmaiden having left to get dressed.
The quiet of the hall was broken as footsteps echoed from the corridor outside. They were brisk, purposeful—a stark contrast to the calm that still lay over the rest of the city. Alysae sat up, instinctively drawing her cloak around her shoulders as the door to the Hall creaked open.
Gandalf entered first, his long white robes swishing quietly over the stone floor, followed by Aragorn, Legolas, and Gimli. Théoden, King of Rohan, and his advisor, Háma, entered soon after. Their faces were grave, and the air of urgency that surrounded them immediately set Alysae on edge.
"We have much to discuss," Gandalf said, his voice low but firm. His keen eyes swept over the room, briefly meeting Alysae's gaze. "Alysae, you should hear this as well."
She nodded, rising from her cot, though her limbs still felt weak from the night's ordeal. She was not sure what had happened to her during the night, but she sensed that something else had happened. She joined the group near the center of the hall, just as Merry entered, looking equally troubled.
Aragorn's expression was tense, his brow furrowed as he spoke. "Pippin is still shaken. The power of the Palantír is not to be underestimated, and what he experienced last night was more than any of us should have to bear." Alysae frowned. The Palantìr?
"The fool of a Took!" Gandalf muttered under his breath, though there was no real anger in his tone—only concern. "I warned him not to meddle with such things. The seeing-stones are perilous devices, and Sauron's reach is long. He has seen Pippin, and through him, we are all at greater risk."
Théoden listened intently, his face drawn with worry. "Then what are we to do? If the Dark Lord has caught sight of the halfling, we must act quickly."
"It is not only Pippin that is in danger," Gandalf continued, his gaze now fixed on Alysae. "There was a ripple in the darkness last night, something that reached beyond the Palantír. I felt it, and I believe Alysae did as well."
Alysae stiffened at his words, feeling the weight of their meaning. She had not spoken of what she had seen to anyone, not wanting to burden them with her fear, but now it seemed her experience was not hers alone. Legolas frowned in concern.
"I saw… something," she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper. "A great eye, wreathed in flame. It… it saw me, I think." Fire flashed in her mind.
Gandalf's expression darkened. "Then Sauron's gaze has touched more than just the Palantír. He is searching, probing for weakness. We must not give him any more opportunities."
Aragorn placed a reassuring hand on Alysae's shoulder. "You are strong, Alysae. Whatever connection Sauron sought to make, it did not hold. But we must be cautious. The enemy knows more than he should."
Gimli grunted, his arms crossed over his broad chest. "So what's to be done, then? We can't just sit here and wait for him to strike."
"No, we cannot," Gandalf agreed. "We must move quickly. Pippin cannot remain here. Sauron has been searching for a halfling for a long time, and now he thinks he has found him. If Pippin stays here, it will endanger everyone in Edoras."
Théoden nodded in agreement. "Where will you take him?"
"To Minas Tirith," Gandalf replied. "Indeed, while Sauron has caught sight of Pippin, so has he caught sight of the Dark Lord's plan. He means to strike Gondor, to destroy Minas Tirith."
"Minas Tirith?" Aragorn echoed, a hint of apprehension in his voice. "Then the time has come."
"Yes," Gandalf said gravely. "The time to prepare for war. Sauron's forces will soon march on Gondor, and we must be ready to meet them. The fate of Middle-earth hangs in the balance."
Théoden's brow furrowed as he listened, his eyes far away. "Gondor," he murmured, the name heavy on his tongue. "Why should we ride to the aid of those who did not come to ours? Gondor did not come to help us when Saruman's forces burned our lands, when our people were slaughtered and our homes destroyed."
Gandalf stepped forward, his eyes intense as he met Théoden's gaze. "It is true that Gondor did not come to Rohan's aid, but the fate of all Middle-earth hangs in the balance. If Gondor falls, Rohan will not stand for long. Sauron seeks to dominate all lands, and he will not stop until he has crushed all who oppose him. We must unite against this common foe, or we will all be destroyed."
A heavy silence fell over the group as the gravity of Gandalf's words settled in. Alysae felt a chill run down her spine.
Alysae... Come to me...
-xxx-
It had been days now since Pippin and Gandalf had left.
Theoden's hall lay under a shroud of silence. The very air seemed to hang heavy, the weight of the coming war pressing down on the assembled company like a dark cloud. Shadows flickered against the walls as the fire in the great hearth crackled softly, casting a warm yet fragile light that could do little to push back the encroaching gloom.
Alysae sat with Eowyn at a table near the hearth, the two women sharing a quiet moment amidst the tension that gripped the hall. Their conversation, once animated with tales and hopes for the future, had grown subdued. The goblets they held were warm in their hands, but even the spiced wine did little to ease the cold that had settled deep within their hearts.
Eowyn stared into the flames, her gaze distant, as if she could see the battles to come reflected in the dancing light. Her usually fierce spirit seemed tempered by a heavy burden, the responsibility of caring for her people and the fear for her loved ones weighing heavily on her shoulders. Alysae could sense the turmoil within her friend, the war that waged just beneath the surface, between duty and desire. She knew that she would have to keep an eye on the Shieldmaiden.
Alysae herself felt the ache of the days passing without word from Gandalf and Pippin. The uncertainty gnawed at her, a constant companion to the dull throb of her own illness. She had seen the worry in Gandalf's eyes before he left, the unspoken fear that this might be the last time they would see each other. The memory of it haunted her, a specter that whispered of the dangers they all faced.
And worse, was the image of the Eye, wreathed in flame, watching. He could be watching her even now. She shuddered, feeling nauseous. Alysae... Come to me... She felt cold all over.
"We should be out there," Eowyn said suddenly, her voice low but filled with a quiet intensity. She did not look at Alysae as she spoke, her eyes still fixed on the fire. "Fighting. Protecting our people. Not sitting here, waiting."
Alysae turned to her, seeing the flicker of frustration that burned in Eowyn's eyes. It was a feeling she understood all too well—the helplessness of being left behind, the anger at feeling powerless when so much was at stake.
"I know," Alysae replied softly, her voice carrying the weight of her own frustrations. "But sometimes... sometimes waiting is the hardest battle we must fight."
Eowyn finally looked at her, her expression softening as she took in the weariness in Alysae's face. "You are not well," she said, a note of concern creeping into her voice. "You should be resting."
Alysae shook her head, offering a faint smile that did little to mask the pain in her eyes. "Resting won't change what is to come," she said, her voice laced with a quiet resolve. "And I would rather spend these moments with those I care about, than alone with my thoughts."
There was a pause as the two women regarded each other, a silent understanding passing between them. They were both warriors in their own right, though the battles they fought were different. Alysae with her illness and the weight of her own choices, Eowyn with her fierce spirit and the expectations placed upon her as a princess of Rohan.
Eowyn reached out, her hand covering Alysae's in a gesture of comfort. "Whatever happens," she said quietly, "we will face it together."
Alysae nodded, feeling a swell of gratitude for the newfound bond they shared. In these dark times, it was the ties of friendship and loyalty that kept them anchored, that gave them the strength to carry on. But she wasn't sure that Eowyn's words were exactly true. The Rohan princess was a warrior at heart, she longed for the glory of battle, something that Alysae knew she would not be able to do. Every day she could feel as her strength left her.
As the fire crackled softly in the hearth, the hall around them seemed to fade into the background, leaving only the two women and their shared resolve. The night was long, and the road ahead uncertain, but in that moment, they found solace in each other's presence, knowing that whatever fate had in store, they would not face it alone.
Outside, the wind howled through the darkened streets of Edoras, a mournful sound that echoed the unease within the hearts of those who listened. The days stretched out before them, heavy with the promise of both hope and despair, and yet, within the quiet of Theoden's hall, there was a flicker of light—a small, steady flame that refused to be extinguished.
Suddenly, the doors to the hall burst open with a loud crash, and Aragorn came rushing in, his face alight with urgency. His eyes scanned the room, landing on Theoden at the head of the table, who had been so quiet that Alysae had forgotten he was there.
"The beacons of Minas Tirith! The beacons are lit!" Aragorn announced, his voice carrying the weight of the moment. "Gondor calls for aid." His shoulders rose and fell heavily.
The hall fell into a stunned silence for a heartbeat. Alysae felt like time stopped, fear gnawing at her gut. Besides her, Eowyn grabbed her hand,. And then Theoden stood, his expression resolute. "And Rohan will answer. Muster the Rohirrim!"
A flurry of movement erupted as everyone sprang into action. The call to arms had been made, and now there was no time to waste. Alysae felt her heart quicken, the reality of the coming battle pressing down on her. She stood, her mind already racing with what needed to be done. Her vision blackened for a moment and she blinked.
Beside her, Eowyn touched her arm, a determined look in her eyes. "Come, Alysae. It is tradition for the women of the court to accompany the men. We must prepare."
Alysae nodded, shaking her head to remove the blurriness. She and Eowyn hurried from the hall, their steps brisk as they made their way to their quarters. Inside, they moved with practiced efficiency, gathering their things and donning their cloaks.
Eowyn fastened a cloak around Alysae's shoulders, her hands lingering for a moment as she met her friend's eyes. "We will see this through, Alysae. And we'll play our parts."
Alysae frowned for a second, sensing that there was more to the shieldmaiden's words, but she placed her hand over Eowyn's, a silent agreement passing between them. They would face whatever was to come side by side.
Once they were ready, Alysae followed Eowyn outside, where the preparations for departure were already underway. The courtyard was bustling with activity as men armed themselves and prepared their horses. The air was thick with the sounds of armor being fastened, horses whinnying, and the low murmur of determined voices.
As Alysae stepped out into the crisp evening air, something caught her eye. At the edge of the courtyard, away from the commotion, stood a horse—beautiful and strong, with a chestnut coat that gleamed in the fading light and a mane as white as snow. The sight of the horse made Alysae stop in her tracks, her breath catching in her throat.
"Celeg..." she whispered, hardly daring to believe her eyes.
The horse turned its head towards her, ears pricking up at the sound of her voice. There was no mistaking it—this was Celeg, the loyal steed she had let free before entering Fangorn Forest, trusting that he would find his way to safety. She had never expected to see him again, had steeled herself to the idea that she might have lost him forever.
But here he was, standing before her as if no time had passed at all. Tears welled in Alysae's eyes as she slowly approached, her heart swelling with a mix of joy and relief.
"Celeg," she murmured again, reaching out a trembling hand.
The horse whinnied softly, stepping forward to meet her. As soon as her hand touched his warm, velvety muzzle, the floodgates opened. All the fear, the tension, the pain she had been holding back for so long came rushing to the surface. She buried her face in his neck, her tears soaking into his mane as she wrapped her arms around him.
Celeg nuzzled her gently, as if reassuring her that he was real, that he was here, and that he would stay by her side no matter what. Alysae laughed through her tears, feeling a lightness in her heart that she hadn't felt in what seemed like ages.
"I thought I'd lost you," she whispered, stroking his neck. "I never wanted to let you go, but I had to... and now you're here."
Celeg nudged her shoulder, his warm breath puffing against her cheek. It was as if he was telling her that it was all right, that he had found his way back to her just as she had always found her way back to him.
Alysae took a step back, wiping her eyes and looking at him with a broad smile. "I should have known you'd find me," she said softly. "You always do."
Eowyn approached from behind, a knowing smile on her face as she watched the reunion. "He came back to you," she said, her voice filled with warmth.
Alysae nodded, still marveling at the sight of her beloved horse. "He did. I don't know how, but he did."
A stable boy that was near by wiped his hands on his used trousers. "He arrived early this morning, m'Lady," he told them, a grin on his grim-covered face. "He refused t'be led in the stables. Like he was waiting for somethin'." He jerked his head towards Alysae. "Or someone it seems."
Eowyn placed a hand on her shoulder. "It seems that in this world, some bonds cannot be broken, no matter the distance."
Alysae smiled, her heart full. "You're right, Eowyn. You're right."
As the two women stood there, surrounded by the preparations for war, Alysae felt a renewed sense of strength and purpose. The road ahead would be difficult, and there were battles yet to be fought, but with Celeg by her side and her friends around her, she knew she could face whatever was to come.
With one last affectionate stroke of Celeg's neck, Alysae turned to Eowyn, determination shining in her eyes. "Let's go, Eowyn. There is much to be done."
Eowyn nodded, her own resolve mirroring Alysae's. Together, they moved towards the rest of the company, ready to face the darkness that loomed on the horizon. And as they did, Alysae knew that, no matter what happened, she would not face it alone.
-xxx-
I'm so excited for the next chapter! Please, please, please review and let me know what you thought!