Alatara the Blue

The sun was starting to set and the half-light twisted strange shadows across the landscape.

Their ride towards the burning orc carcasses was a quiet one, everyone fearing the worst. Legolas and Gimli rode ahead arguing quietly, an attempt to keep their minds off of the hobbits if but for a moment. Alatara held on to Aragorn’s sides, the man as still as a corpse beneath her hands.

Uncomfortable or disgusted by her touch? She wondered but had the sense not to ask. Now was not the time.

She was new to Middle Earth and new to the world of men. It was much easier to deal with Legolas than it was Aragorn or Gimli.

Alatara breathed a sigh of relief when they reached the blazing pit, nearly leaping off of the horse. Gimli was just as quick, if Alatara had been uncomfortable touching Aragorn, Gimli holding onto Legolas had to have been worse. The thought brought a smile to her lips.

Gimli started to shift through the smoldering pile, he quickly found a charred belt and sheath.

Gimli groaned in despair, “It’s Merry’s wee little belt.”

“Hiro îth… ab 'wanath,” Legolas bowed his heads and uttered a prayer for their fallen friends.

Alatara’s mind translated it as ‘may they find peace in death.’

Aragorn kicked an orc helmet with extreme force and cried out, angrily falling to his knees with his head in his hands, “I have failed them, I failed Gandalf, I am not fit to lead anyone.”

Alatara nearly jumped back from the outburst not used to such emotive outbursts. She sighed, some wizard she was, Gandalf the Gray would have surely kept all of his charges alive.

“We failed them,” Gimli sighed.

Aragorn sat up, his hands flat against the grass, “A hobbit lay here.”
He turned ninety degrees, “And the other.”

They all looked up at their leader, “Their hands were bound and then they were cut.”

He held up a grass and dirt covered broken piece of rope and stood, walking away from them, the twilight glinted off his chainmail, “They ran over here, trying to escape but they were followed.”

Aragorn kept walking following their trail, Alatara and the others followed him listening intently to his story.

“The tracks lead away from the battle!” Gimli yelled happily.

“Into there,” Legolas pointed into a dense, dark forest.

“Fangorn? What madness drove them into that damned forest,” Gimli whispered.

“What’s wrong with that forest,” Alatara asked.

“They say the forest is alive and full of evil creatures,” Aragorn whispered.

“What do we do?” Gimli asked.

“We follow them,” Alatara gripped her staff readying herself for the forest.

--

Venturing into the Fangorn Forest hadstarted easily enough, except for thick brush and Aragorn having to cut branches down for them to walk through.

Gimli stopped at a tree, “There’s blood on this tree.”

He dipped a finger in it and brought it to his mouth and then spit it out, “It’s orc blood.”

Aragorn looked around in the area, “These are strange tracks.”

Legolas remained eerily quiet, he hadn’t spoken much since they’d seen the riders of Rohan, Alatara wondered what was wrong with the elf.

She herself had trouble concentrating from all the ancient magic that hung heavy in the forest air, she could feel spells that had been cast millennia ago twisting in the air, “This forest is very old, the site of an ancient battle maybe, it’s full of memories and magic,angry evil magic.”

Groans reverberated through the forest and Gimli raised his axe with a, shing.

“The trees are speaking to each other,” Alatara whispered, eyes darting through the forest looking for the creature responsible, her eyes met only with the tiniest amount of light from the distant sunset.

Aragorn whispered, “Gimli! Put down you axe!”

Gimli lowered his axe, “Something is out there.”

Aragorn looked from Gimli to Legolas, “You have better vision than all of us, can you see what’s out there?”

Legolas narrowed his eyes and stared off into the distance, “A figure approaches, man or woman I can’t tell. Only a white cloak.”

“White cloak? Saruman?” Aragorn whispered. “Do not let him speak, he will cast a spell on us.”

Aragorn turned to her, “Can you disarm him the second he walks though the tress?”

Alatara nodded, raising her staff the twisted gem at the top started to pulsate with dim light, “I can try.”

He nodded and unsheathed his sword as quietly as possible.

Gimli gripped his axe at his side and Legolas notched an arrow, “We must be quick.”

The figure broke through the tree line, face covered by the hood of its cloak and with a hard push of magic Alatara knocked the figure into a tree with ease. Almost too much ease.

With a yell, the men attacked.

When Aragorn had almost swung his sword down upon the figure Alatara yelled, “Wait!”

With deadly accuracy that comes from years of training, Aragorn stopped his sword mid-blow, a hairs width from the figure.

Without looking at her he asked her, “Why?”

Before she could answer the figure sprang forward with a small, lighter sword of its own and the clang of sword against sword rang out through the forest.

Aragorn blocked with ease and grabbed the figure’s sword arm, squeezing their thin forearm until they let go of the sword, with his other hand he threw of the figure’s hood.

It was a terrified looking human woman, with long blonde hair and green eyes, “Who are you?!”

Legolas gasped and unnotched his bow. Alatara gave the elf a curious look.

“Who are you?” Aragorn asked.

Despite looking scared she spat at Aragorn’s feet, “I asked you first! Unhand me!”

Alatara stepped forward pushing Aragorn aside, “I’m sorry milady, my friends have no manners, I’m Alatara the blue, a wizard. This is Aragorn son of Arathorn, Gimli son of Gloin and Legolas son of Thandruil.”

She pointed at each of them, “And who are you? Why are you out in the Fangorn forest without an escort, you’re obviously a high-born lady.”
The ladies cloak was ivory and embroidered with light gold thread and pearls. She also wore pearls in each of her ears. She looked relieved at the sight of another woman, “I’m Eowyn of Rohan, daughter of Theodwyn, niece to king Theoden. I went looking for help but got lost in here.”

“Help for what?” Aragorn interjected, Eowyn looked up at him with large eyes. She was a couple inches taller than Alatara but still far shorter than Aragorn.

“Something evil has befallen my uncle, his mind has been twisted somehow and he has aged oddly recently, a man named Wormtongue has been controlling the kingdom an—and trying to force himself on me,” She looked off to the side, embarrassed and ashamed, “After the last time I barely escaped and went looking for my brother and the Riders of Rohan, he was banished by Wormtongue.”

Legolas was next to Alatara and she heard him grip his fists hard enough to crack his knuckles. She looked at his expression out of the corner of her eye, he was near belligerent and attempting to hide it. She could feel and angry aura effervescing from him.

“We’ve just seen the Riders, the ride across the plains killing orcs,” Alatara explained. “Perhaps we can be of some assistance?”

“Alatara, we need to find the hobbits,” Gimli whispered.

She turned her eyes towards him, “The hobbits are fine, their tracks end here, they do not want to be found, just as Frodo and Sam had to strike out on their own, Merry and Pippin must do the same. Fate would not have made us cross paths with Eomer and Eowyn of Rohan for no reason.”

Gimli sighed, “I don’t like it.”

“I can’t help but agree,” Aragorn nodded, his eyes darting quickly to Legolas and then back down to Alatara, “Do you think your magic is strong enough to free King Theoden of his possession?”

Alatara sighed, “Like I said before, I can try.”