All Shall Fade

Chapter 25

Pity the Fool

I buried my face in the pillow of my bed and sighed, but glanced up when I heard a soft knock on the door.

“Come in?” I frowned, wondering if it was someone looking for Eowdrin. A young woman walked in, smiling nervously and I noticed she was carrying a jug.

“I was asked to bring this to you.” She mumbled, pouring the contents of the jug into a clay basin that stood on a table on the other side of the room.

“Uh… Thanks.” I murmured as she left, closing the door behind her as I swung my legs out of the bed before walking over to the basin. It had been filled with water and there was a dry cloth folded beside it. I cast a glance at my reflection in the mirror that hung on the wall in front of me. “Ew.” I muttered, wrinkling my nose at my grubby appearance. My skin was coated in a layer of grime, and was only clean in a few small places where Aragorn had been cleaning my cuts last night. I scraped my wild hair back from my face and secured it with the much treasured hair bobble that had somehow survived the quest so far, and then unfastened Arwen’s pendant from where it hung around my neck and looped it around my wrist, before pulling off my tattered, bloodstained shirt, leaving myself standing in my old vest top and leggings. I smiled wryly, thinking that if I didn’t look like I had been beaten to a pulp and thrown in a muddy puddle I could just be standing in front of a mirror back home. I began to wash my face in the water and started to wipe away the dirt with the towel. I jumped as I heard another knock at the door. Eowdrin must be popular; she seemed to have a constant flow of traffic going in and out of her room. “Come in!” I called as I wiped the damp towel around my neck and grimaced at the finger-shaped bruises that encircled my throat, telling a rather unpleasant story of my capture.

“Alice?”

I turned and smiled as the door was pushed open. “Hey.” I murmured as Aragorn walked towards me. He cleared his throat, holding something out for me. I took the dark green fabric from his hands and unfolded it, seeing that it was a large shirt.

“I noticed yours was torn.” He said as I pulled it over my head. It was too big, so I rolled up the sleeves, exposing the shabby makeshift bandages around my wrists.

“Thanks.” I smiled, turning back to the mirror and smoothing the front of the shirt as his reflection appeared behind me. I turned to him as he reached out and lightly touched the bruises on my neck, a look of concern spreading across his features. I reached up and covered his hand with mine, trying to smile comfortingly. “I’m alright, really.” I insisted as he smiled slightly, slipping his hand out from under mine as he lifted my wrist to examine my wound dressings.

“I brought more bandages if you need them.” He said softly as he untied the scraps of fabric, revealing the ugly, scabbed-over scars across my wrists. I made a face and nodded, taking his hand and pulling him over to my bed so we could both sit down. He carefully examined the cuts, but Galadriel’s bracelet and Arwen’s pendant kept getting in the way. He unfastened the pendant, but hesitated at the bracelet.

“It’s ok… I think I can take it off once in a while.” I murmured, before he reluctantly slid it off my wrist and placed it in my hand, so I maintained contact with the cool metal. He quickly rebound my wrists in fresh bandages and tied them neatly.

“Will you be attending the funeral?” He asked, glancing up at me as he remained holding my wrists.

“No,” I shook my head, “I’m not good at funerals. Besides, I wouldn’t know anyone there and it would just be awkward… And I’d get all depressed and I’m pretty positive that you don’t want me crying on your shoulder all day. I think I might just practice my riding or something if that’s ok.” I smiled weakly as Aragorn nodded, keeping his gaze fixed on my wrists. It was a few seconds before I reluctantly slid away from him and slipped my bracelet back on. “I should get going…” I mumbled, grabbing my coat and pulling it on as I made for the door. I needed to stop having these obscure moments with Aragorn… Getting too close to people was dangerous in this world… I’d learnt that the hard way with Boromir.

“Alice?”

I turned back at the sound of Aragorn’s voice, my hand hesitating over the door handle as he walked towards me. He held out Arwen’s pendant for me and I smiled.

“Erm, can you hang on to it for me? I wouldn’t want to loose it or anything whilst I’m riding.” I opened the door and slipped out, rubbing the back of my neck awkwardly as I made my way down the hall. I heard footsteps behind me and I almost rolled my eyes. What now?

Aragorn lightly pulled my shoulder, making me turn. “If you have not returned before the funeral ends, I will search for you. Just stay within sight of the city.”

“Thanks.” I bobbed my head, acknowledging what he’d said before turning and making my way into the throne room. Preparations for the funeral were well underway; the body of a young man lay on a table, surrounded by mourners in the middle of the hall. I swallowed, trying to get rid of the lump in my throat as I slipped out the door and took the steps two at a time in an attempt to get away from the suffocating sense of death.

I made my way over to the building that I assumed was the stables. I peeked inside the door and found it relatively deserted, so I began searching for Hasufel. I found him in a stall across from Arod with his saddle and bridle still on. I noticed a stable hand in Arod’s stall as I let myself into Hasufel’s

“I was just about to remove his tack m’lady.” The young boy said as I cast a glance over my shoulder.

“It’s ok; I’m just going to take him out for a ride.” I smiled, positioning myself to mount the horse. How had Aragorn done it again? Oh yes, foot in the stirrup and swing your leg over. I swung myself into the saddle clumsily, figuring I still had to perfect mounting, before I gathered up the reins and carefully asked him to walk out of the stable. This was the third time I had ever sat on a horse, the second time with any sort of control, and the first time without Aragorn making sure that I didn’t fall. Oh well, sometimes you need to throw yourself in at the deep end to learn.

I clicked my tongue and nudged the horse’s side with my heels. “Okay Hasufel…” I said softly, “I’m just a tad nervous up here so I’d appreciate no funny business…” We slowly walked down towards the gate and I decided to risk a trot. We jogged down the hill until we were once again on the open plain and I tried to figure out a rhythm to the trot. “Up rise, down sit, up rise, down sit…” I repeated under my breath as I looked back up at the city. Already a funeral procession was taking shape, so I gave Hasufel a harder nudge with my heels. I quickly realised it was harder than necessary as he shot off like a rocket. “Hasufel!” I cried, trying to rein in his mad gallop across the grasslands, but he wouldn’t respond. “Stop!” I screamed, realising that if I couldn’t slow him, I’d have to wait until he stopped of his own accord. I grabbed a handful of his chestnut mane as I was almost jolted out of the saddle and tried to hang on. “Ssh, it’s ok!” I tried to calm him so he didn’t bolt off, and gradually, his strides shortened in length. “That’s better…” I breathed, looking back at the city. Aragorn had said stay within sight, and I could still see the funeral party moving down the hillside, like a long black snake. “Lets just take things slowly for a while, ok?” I murmured to the horse as I lengthened his reins and let him pick his own, rambling path across the coarse landscape. Occasionally he would pause to crop at a patch of grass, but he seemed to have a vague idea of what direction he was heading in. I closed my eyes and sighed, enjoying the feel of the cooling breeze that carelessly toyed with my hair.

I wasn’t sure how long we aimlessly wandered for, but after a while I heard the sound of running water, and realised that Hasufel seemed to be taking me to a stream. I opened my eyes, and to my surprise saw a black horse standing up ahead. It was saddled, so it must have a rider somewhere. I frowned and dismounted, leading Hasufel over to the new horse that stood by the stream. It was a moment before I saw the figure huddled near its feet. “Hey.” I called out casually, and they glanced up. I recognised the man from earlier this morning, Grima Wormtongue. He appeared to be dabbing at his split lip with a dirty white lace handkerchief. “Did they bust your lip? Tough luck.” I mumbled sympathetically as I sat down on a tuft of grass and ran Hasufel’s reins through my hands as he grazed. “That thing’s gonna swell up like… Well, like a busted lip.” I smiled wryly as he continued to compulsively dab at his face, casting nervous, quick glances at me out of the corner of his eye. “Well, you’d have been much worse off if it wasn’t for Aragorn.” I sighed and knotted and untangled the reins in my hand as I thought I heard Wormtongue mutter something under his breath, but I chose to ignore whatever he’d said. “So… How’d you end up with Saruman?” I asked, trying to make it sound like polite conversation, when in reality I was burning to know more about the wizard that plagued my unconscious hours. To have access to anyone’s mind and private thoughts was an unnatural marvel – something that had never been achieved in the world I knew, no matter how many con-artists may claim differently. Wormtongue turned away from me, which told me that I was poking my nose in where it wasn’t welcome, but that had never stopped me before. “Come on, I’m willing to listen.” I smiled, “He’s been trying to get to me so I need to figure out how to shake him off… Any tips?” I tilted my head hopefully as Hasufel nudged my shoulder. I absentmindedly scratched his forehead as I waited for a reply.

“You will never be rid of him. He will destroy you first.” I frowned at the low, ominous murmur I’d received and rolled my eyes.

“Well I can see that your glass is half empty.” I sighed, running a hand through my hair as he looked up.

“You cannot escape him. The world of men will fall and there will be no way out.”

“Don’t say that.” I scowled, “Just saying it means you’ve already given up.” He fired me a cold glance and I stared down at my feet. “Things always have to get worse before they can get better.” I mumbled feebly, as I got the feeling that my words wouldn’t get through to him.

“You think things will get better?” He spat, making me flinch, “You think there will be an end to this? I know who that man is.” I winced again; knowing that the person he coldly referred to was Aragorn, “You can’t possibly believe he will be able to save the world of men.”

“You don’t know him.” I said quietly, glancing up at Grima and narrowing my eyes, “And you don’t know me. How can you say what I believe in? If I believe in Aragorn then that’s my choice! So what if it turns out to be wrong? I’ll still stand by him and all my friends!” My voice rose in volume as I clenched my fists angrily. “How can you have so little hope?” I frowned, swallowing hard, “Honestly, it’s pitiful.”

“I don’t want your pity.” He snarled softly as I laughed sarcastically.

“Well you have it, whether you want it or not.” I stared at the grassland that lay across the river as I heard Wormtongue get to his feet. “Scuttling back to Saruman already? I was enjoying our little chat.” I pursed my lips into a thin smile as I turned to see him walking towards me.

“You are a fool.” He leered, and I stubbornly rose to my feet so I could talk to him at eye level. “You are all fools.” He slowly circled me, “He will never lead you to victory.” I glared hard as once again he dragged Aragorn back into the conversation. “He is weak, you are all weak, and you’re all going to die-”

I cut him off by punching him hard in the front teeth.

As he staggered backwards in shock I grabbed two fistfuls of the front of his fur clothing and dragged him back to me. I could feel blood trickling from my knuckles where I’d punched him, but I didn’t care.

“How dare you?” I hissed venomously, “You don’t know him; you don’t know anything about him!” I shook him roughly as he whined like the coward he was. “You can say what you like about me. I may be naïve, and foolish, and overly trustful, but I can handle it. I know my own flaws.” He looked up at me with wild eyes as I yanked him a little closer. “But slander my friends and I swear I will make your life a living hell.” I growled, and then yelped in alarm as my arms were suddenly grabbed from behind, as someone dragged me back from Wormtongue and pinned my arms to my side. I struggled as the man I had previously been threatening tumbled to the ground without me holding him up. I tried to yank away from whoever was holding me but they held me fast. “Let go!” I yelled, pulling futilely against the arms that bound me.

“Alice, just calm down.” The smooth, familiar voice in my ear made me freeze.

“What are you doing here?” I spat, as I resumed my struggling against Aragorn’s arms.

“I said I would come looking for you.”

“Well you kind of picked a bad time.” I hissed, my eyes remaining fixed on Wormtongue’s cowering figure as he tried to crawl away.

“Alice, listen to me-”

“I don’t want to.”

“Listen to me Alice.” He insisted softly in my ear as my struggles became weaker. “Just let him go. He’s not worth it.”

“You didn’t hear what he said!” I cried, putting in a final attempt to jerk away from him as tears of frustration gathered in my eyes, but I refused to let them free.

“Alice, please.” His quiet reasoning shifted to begging and I stopped struggling, but remained trembling angrily in his grasp. “He doesn’t deserve your attention.”

“But-”

“Just let it go.”

“But-”

“For me. Please.”

That was it, my breaking point. I was a slave to the guilt-trip. The second someone said something like that I was wrapped around their little finger. For some reason I couldn’t bring myself to disappoint people, to let them down and purposefully hurt their feelings. Not out of spite, but out of following my own mind.

Well I wasn’t going to fall for it. Not this time. Not today. Not now…

My shoulders dropped and my tense muscles slacked as I released a breath of air.

Damn it… I fell for it.

Again.

Damn you Aragorn… You manipulative ass.

I breathed heavily and scowled as Wormtongue scrambled to his feet, clutching his bleeding mouth. It seemed that on top of rearranging his front teeth I’d managed to reopen his spilt lip. Double points for me then. I snarled under my breath and spat at Wormtongue as he backed away and quickly and clumsily mounted his agitated horse, before fumbling with the reins and digging his heels into the animal’s flank. I watched in silence as they galloped away, until they became a speck in the distance and then completely vanished from my limited vision.

Good riddance to bad rubbish.

I felt Aragorn’s grip on my arms slacken, and he slowly let his hands fall away. He’d been holding me so tightly that I’d probably have bruises. Then again, I’d probably have a scar on my hand from punching that creep. To be honest I had it coming. I sighed and wordlessly made my way over to Hasufel, who had been grazing quietly throughout the whole drama. I noticed Arod standing nearby, which explained how Aragorn had gotten here.

“Alice?”

“I’m fine.” I muttered quickly as I picked up Hasufel’s reins from where I’d carelessly left them trailing on the ground. “No wait… That’s a lie. I’m really, really pissed off actually.”

“Are you angry with me?” I almost laughed at his question, remembering that he wouldn’t know what ‘Pissed off’ means.

I turned on my heel and looked him up and down. “A little.” I said, turning away and running my hand down Hasufel’s neck.

“I apologise.” Aragorn said softly and again I suppressed the urge to laugh quietly. “I didn’t want you to do something you would regret.”

“What? Like killed him?” This time I actually let myself laugh, “I might have… I don’t know. I guess I just snapped. I couldn’t let him away with what he said.”

“What did he say?” He asked, and I hesitated for a moment, before swinging myself into Hasufel’s saddle. I deliberated over whether to tell him or not. He had seen how worked up I’d been, and if I told him that I’d been defending him… Well, if he was like most other guys out there then that would just be an unnecessary ego-boost.

“It was nothing…” I muttered as he mounted Arod and walked him towards me. I dropped my gaze to my hand, which was pulsing blood at an alarming rate. Aragorn followed my gaze and I heard his quiet intake of breath.

“We should get back to Edoras.” He said quickly before I could even claim that I was alright. I nodded silently and nudged Hasufel onwards, and before long we were both galloping back towards the city on the hilltop.