Title & Chapter Number The Wayward Wish 11/14
Author(s): - Author's Index
Website: Tortured Scribes
Fandom: Tolkien
RatingNC-17
Disclaimer Thank you J.R.R. for the wonderful playground of Middle Earth. Thank you Peter for the wonderful playground created by your casting department. I don't own any copyrighted material in this fic, I'm just borrowing it and I promise to return it when I'm done. Did I mention I have no money?
Warnings None
Betas Jay Foppins III and Constance Ambrose
Cast Characters for Lord of the Rings, Original Female Character
Timeline Lord of the Rings AU
Spoilers The Return of the King
Summary The realities of being a modern woman zapped back in time to Middle Earth - minus the fluff.
Notes Elvish is Sindarin; If it looks like Tolkien and it sounds like Tolkien, it probably is. He wrote it first, he wrote it best, I'm just repeating it for storytelling purposes and make no claim that I came up with it. Everyone else has done the Modern Female in M.E., so now it's my turn. Hopefully, I've done it with a bit of style and believability.
Chapter Eleven: Left Behind, Again?
In the inner part of the pavilion was a small space, curtained off with broidered hangings. There was a small table around which sat Théoden, Éomer, Éowyn, and Dúnhere, lord of Harrowdale. Merry moved to stand beside the king's chair and waited on him. Jessy, unsure of her position now that Théoden had returned, moved to stand in the corner near the entrance.
Théoden turned to Merry with a smile, "Come, Master Meriadoc. You shall not stand. You neither, Lady Jessy. You, Merry, shall sit beside me, as long as I remain in my own lands, and lighten my heart with tales. You, Lady Jessy, shall take your place beside Éowyn, who has told me of your friendship."
Places were made for both of them but no one called for a tale from Merry. They ate and drank in silence, until Merry could not stop himself from asking the question that had torment both him and Jessy.
"Twice now, lord, I have heard of the Paths of the Dead. What are they? And where has Strider, I mean the Lord Aragorn, where has he gone?"
The king sighed but no one answered. Jessy thought she would go insane from the wait but Éomer finally spoke.
"We do not know, and our hearts are heavy. But as for the Paths of the Dead, you have yourself walked on their first steps. Nay, I speak no words of ill omen! The road that we have climbed is the approach to the Door, yonder in the Dimholt. But what lies beyond no man knows."
"No man knows," said Théoden. "Yet ancient legend, now seldom spoken, has somewhat to report. If these old tales speak true that have come down from father to son in the House of Eorl, than the Door under Dwimorberg leads to a secret way that goes beneath the mountain to some forgotten end. But none have ever ventured in to search its secrets, since Baldor, son of Brego, passed the Door and was never seen among men again. A rash vow he spoke, as he drained the horn at that feast which Brego made to hallow new built Meduseld, and he came never to the high seat of which he was the heir."
He took a sip of his wine before continuing, "Folk say that Dead Men out of the Dark Years guard the way and will suffer no living man to come to their hidden halls; but at whiles they may themselves be seen passing out of the door like shadows and down the stony road. Then the people of Harrowdale shut fast their doors and shroud their windows and are afraid. But the Dead come seldom forth and only at times of great unquiet and coming death."
"Yet it is said in Harrowdale, " said Éowyn, "That in the moonless nights but little while ago a great host in strange array passed by. Whence they came none knew, but they went up the stony road and vanished into the hill, as if they went to keep a tryst."
"Then why has Aragorn gone that way?" asked Merry. "Don't you know of anything that would explain it?"
He has finally cracked under the strain of playing at being king. Jessy kept her snide thought to herself, feeling ashamed that she had even conceived it. She was pissed off at Aragorn but she didn't want to see him dead.
"Unless he has spoken words to either of you as his friends that we have not heard," said Éomer, "none now in the land of the living can tell his purpose."
They talked a little more about the legend and why Aragorn would venture that way when they were interrupted by a commotion outside. A man was calling Theoden's name and then the sound of a guard challenging him.
Presently the captain of the Guard stuck his head inside the curtain. "A man is here, lord, an errand-rider of Gondor. He wishes to come before you at once.
"Let him come!" said Théoden.
Merry chocked back a cry as a tall man entered. Jessy could only stare in shocked horror. For one brief moment they thought Boromir has returned from the dead. But then they realized that he was a stranger though he looked enough like Boromir that he was probably kin of some kind.
The man sank to one knee before Théoden. "Hail, Lord of the Rohirrim, friend of Gondor! Hirgon I am, errand-rider of Denethor, who bring you this token of war. Gondor is in great need. Often the Rohirrim have aided us, but now the Lord Denethor asks for all your strength and all your speed, lest Gondor fall at last."
"The Red Arrow!" Théoden held the arrow as one who receives a summons long expected yet dreadful when it comes. "The Red Arrow has not been seen in the Mark in all my years! Has it indeed come to that? And what does the Lord Denethor reckon that all my strength and all my speed my be?"
"That is best known to yourself, lord," said Hirgon. "But ere long it may well come to pass that Minas Tirith is surrounded, and unless you have the strength to break a siege of many powers, the Lord Denethor bids me say that he judges that the strong arms of the Rohirrim would be better within his walls than without."
"But he knows that we are a people who fight rather upon horseback and in the open, and that we are also a scattered people and time is needed for the gathering of our Riders. Is it not true, Hirgon, that the Lord of Minas Tirith knows more than he sets in his message? For we are already at war, as you may have seen, and you do not find us all unprepared. Gandalf the Grey has been among us, and even now we are mustering for battle in the East."
"What the Lord Denethor may know or guess of all these things I cannot say. But indeed our case is desperate. My lord does not issue any command to you, he begs you only to remember old friendship and oaths long spoken, and for your own good to do all that you may. It is reported to us that many kings have ridden in from the East to the service of Mordor. From the North to the field of Dagorlad there is skirmish and rumor of war. In the South the Haradrim are moving, and fear has fallen on all our coastlands, so that little help will come to us thence. Make haste! For it is before the walls of Minas Tirith that the doom of our time will be decided, and if the tide be not stemmed there, then it will flow over all the fair fields of Rohan, and even in this Hold among the hills there shall be no refuge."
"Dark tidings, yet not all unguessed. But say to Denethor that even if Rohan itself felt no peril, still we would come to his aid. But we have suffered much loss in our battles with Saruman the traitor, and we must still think of our frontier to the north and east, as his own tidings make clear. So great a power as the Dark Lord seems now to wield might well contain us in battle before the City and yet strike with great force across the River away beyond the Gate of Kings."
Théoden paused for a moment in thought. "But we will speak no longer counsels of prudence. We will come. The weapontake was set for the morrow. When all is ordered we will set out. Ten thousand spears I might have sent riding over the plain to the dismay of your foes. It will be less now, I fear; for I will not leave my strongholds all unguarded. Yet six thousands at the least shall ride behind me. For say to Denethor that in this hour the King of the Mark himself will come down to the land of Gondor, though maybe he will not ride back. But it is a long road, and man and beast must reach the end with strength to fight. A week it may be from tomorrow's morn ere you hear the cry of the Sons of Eorl coming from the North."
"A week!" Hirgon cried but then he calmed himself. "If it must be so, it must. But you are like to find only ruined walls in seven days from now, unless other help unlooked-for comes. Still, you may at least disturb the Orcs and Swarthy Men from their feasting in the White Tower."
"At the least we will do that," said Théoden. "But I myself am new-come from battle and long journey, and I will now go to rest. Tarry here this night. Then you shall look on the muster of Rohan and ride away the gladder for the sight, and the swifter for the rest. In the morning counsels are best, and night changes many thoughts."
The king stood up and the others rose. "On now each to your rest. And sleep well." He turned to Merry. "And you, Master Meriadoc, I need no more tonight. But be ready to my call as soon as the Sun is risen."
"I will be ready."
Jessy and Éowyn walked Merry back to his tent.
"I will not be left behind, to be called for on return!" Merry said.
"If you go, then I'm gonna go." Jessy added. "I have to get my stuff and will join you in a moment Merry."
"What!" came Éowyn's gasp. "You cannot be serious. On the road to battle or during a journey is one thing but it is highly improper that you should be unchaperoned while you are here."
Jessy snorted. "Merry is a good friend. It's not like anything is going to happen."
Merry nodded in agreement. He considered Jessy a good friend, not unlike a sister. Beside she was too tall for his tastes.
"I am very serious." The look on Éowyn's face mirrored the tone in her voice.
"All right." Jessy sighed in exasperation. "But you had better not leave me behind, Merry, or there will be hell to pay when I catch up with you."
"Trust me, my friend. You will not be left behind this time." Éowyn said with a cryptic look in her eyes.
Jessy hugged Merry and followed Éowyn back into the hold.
The next morning was black as night for Sauron had hidden the Sun and none knew if it would ever return. For the first time in many months, Jessy actually slept in. It was well into the morning by time she caught up with Merry and Éowyn as they left the armory.
Merry was wearing a leather jerkin, belt, and a knife. He also carried a small shield with the device of the white horse on its face.
"So when do we leave?" Jessy asked when she finally caught up with them.
"In two hours, I shall travel with the king to Edoras, but there the king thinks to leave me behind." Merry was frowning.
"Things may change at Edoras, fear not my little friend. But for now I bid thee Fare well. Yet maybe we shall meet again, you and I."
Éowyn left Merry and Jessy alone.
"Well I'm coming with you to Edoras and we will figure out what will do once we get there. I have to get ready so I will meet you by your tent in a little while." Jessy turned and ran back to the hold to get her weapons and armor.
Two hours later, Merry and Jessy were on their way to Edoras. Théoden had sought to order Jessy to stay behind but Merry asked that they not be separated and he relented.
They finally reached Edoras where the king called a halt. During which time the company grew as more Riders joined. After the noon meal, the king called for the host to prepare to leave. Merry begged one last time that he and Jessy be allowed to join him.
"This is no journey for such steeds as Stybba, as Merry's little pony was named, as I have told you. And in such a battle as we think to make on the fields of Gondor what would you do, Master Meriadoc, swordthain though you be, and greater of heart than of stature? And you Lady Jessy, I do not deny that you also possess great courage but I think you have not the strength for battle, else Lord Aragorn would not have left you behind."
"As for that, who can tell?" answered Merry. "But why, lord, did you receive me as swordthain, if not to stay by your side? And I would not have it said of me in song only that I was always left behind!"
"Haven't you people ever heard of equal rights? As for Aragorn, he is not my keeper. My wards are the Lady Galadriel and Lord Celeborn and they if they wanted me hidden away I would still be in Lothlórien. Besides the fact, I can carry Merry on my horse." Jessy was really getting sick of the whole `weak woman' routine.
"I received you both for your safe-keeping and also to do as I might bid." Théoden answered them. "If the battle were before my gates, maybe your deeds would be remembered by the minstrels; but it is a hundred leagues and two to Mundburg where Denethor is lord. And you Lady Jessy will do well to remember that you are not among the Elves but Men and we do not take lightly to women who do not know their places. I will say no more."
Merry bowed but Jessy stood still, fury and pride keeping her upright. They both went away, neither was very happy.
They watched as the men made last minute preparations to leave. Unnoticed a Rider came up and spoke softly in the hobbit's ear.
"Where will wants not, a way opens, so we say." He whispered; "and so I have found myself."
Merry looked up and saw that it was the young Rider he had noticed earlier that morning as they were leaving.
Jessy had noticed him by this time also, only she recognized him for who he was - Éowyn.
"You wish to go whither the Lord of the Mark goes: I see it in your face." The Rider said to Merry.
"I do," Merry replied.
"Than you shall go with me. I will bear you before me, under my cloak until we are far afield, and this darkness is yet darker. Such good will should not be denied. Say no more to any man, but come!"
"Thank you indeed," Merry said, "What name shall we call you?" He gestured towards Jessy.
Grey eyes met and held brown ones. "You may call me Dernhelm."
"Well met, Dernhelm." Jessy smiled.
In that instant, Éowyn knew that she had not fooled her friend but that Jessy would not betray her real identity.
And so the miles passed as the Riders of the Mark made their way towards Gondor. Jessy had never spent so long in a saddle, she never realized that her ass could ache in such a way. They finally halted for the night in the willow-thickets where Snowbourn flowed into Entwash.
And so the pattern repeated itself, on and on they rode and Jessy wondered which would kill her first, boredom or her aching backside.
Four days later, Merry and Jessy found themselves lying awake in the dark, both wondering the same thing - what had ever possessed them to go to war.
Merry was thankful for Jessy's presences, none of the men in the éored would acknowledge their existence and Dernhelm seemed lost in his own thoughts.
They were less than a day's ride from the outer walls of Minas Tirith that encircled the townlands. Scouts had been sent ahead. Some returned to report that the road was held against them, others never returned at all.
Presently, Elfhelm stumbled over Merry in the darkness.
"What is afoot?" Merry asked him after Elfhelm stopped cursing what he thought was a tree root.
"My lord sends word that we must set ourselves in readiness, orders may come for a sudden move."
"Is the enemy coming then?" asked Merry anxiously.
"Are those their drums?" Jessy added.
"Nay," said Elfhelm, "the enemy is on the road not in the hills. You hear the Woses, the Wild Men of the Woods. They have offered their services to Théoden. Yonder go the lights of the headman who is being taken to the king."
Merry and Jessy got up and followed the lantern before it disappeared completely from view. They soon found themselves in an open space where a small tent had been set up for the king. The king, Éomer, and a strange squat man sat. Merry and Jessy crept closer and listened to the conversation.
Finally it was decided that the Wild Men would lead the Riders through the forest and around the edge of the host that waited for them. Merry and Jessy didn't stay to hear more but hurried back to their camp.
Soon they were traveling again and presently entered the Stonewain Valley were Théoden called a halt. The men spread out to camping-places under the gray trees. Théoden called for his captains to come to council.
That night, the Rohan moved silently on either side of the road. The road was turning southward and straight ahead there was a red glow. They were drawing near the Rammas of the Pelennor.
The king rode in the midst of the leading company and Elfhelm's éored was the next in line. Slowly, Éowyn rode forward until she was at the edge of the king's guard. Jessy followed behind her. They listened as Out-riders came back and reported for they had ventured almost to the wall.
"There are great fires, lord. The City is all set about with flame, and the field is full of foes. But all seem drawn off to the assault. As well as we could guess, there are few left upon the outwall, and they are heedless, busy in destruction."
The king turned to the men of his household who were near and spoke in a clear voice. "Now is the hour come, Riders of the Mark, sons of Eorl! Foes and fires are before you, and your homes far behind. Yet, though you fight upon an alien field, the glory that you reap there shall be your own forever. Oaths ye have taken: now fulfill them all, to lord and land and league of friendship!"
The men banged their spears to their shields.
Jessy felt ill. Legolas' words now came back to haunt her, "Would you have us drag you onto the battlefield? Failing would not mean a reprimand from your trainer but death. From death there is no return." Damn the Elf! She cursed silently, trying desperately to stop the shaking of her hands as fear gnawed at her stomach.
Maybe this was all just a bad dream. Maybe she was lying safe and sound in a comfortable hospital bed somewhere. This whole experience nothing more than the effects of morphine coursing through her system. Except she could feel the wind blowing across the exposed portions of her skin. The acrid smell of fire, horseflesh, and unwashed bodies causing her nostrils to flare with each breath. There was another odor that lingered in the air around her, more pungent than the others, more foul. She had smelled it once before in Moria -
Orcs. Could a hallucination be this real? She silently prayed that some well-meaning doctor or nurse would wake her from this nightmare, save her from her own pride and stubbornness.
It was not to be, for with a word from Théoden, the Rohan began the charge onto the field of battle. Jessy spurred her horse, one eye on Merry determined not to lose sight of him.
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