Of Futures Past (Legolas)

27

While Legolas and Gimli bowed to Gandalf, now dressed in white, Alana rushed to him, wrapping her arms around him joyfully.

"You're alive! The Valar did not show me this, I thought you were dead! I'm so so happy to see you!" Alana exclaimed, tears of joy sliding down her cheeks. Gandalf chuckled, patting her head fondly.

"It cannot be. You fell." Aragorn mumbled, staring at the old man in awe.

Gandalf nodded sagely. "Through fire and water. From the lowest dungeon to the highest peak, I fought with the Balrog of Morgoth. Until at last, I threw down my enemy and smote his ruin upon the mountainside."

Alana pulled herself away from Gandalf, wiping away tears, to listen to his tale.

"Darkness took me. And I strayed out of thought and time. Stars wheeled overhead and everyday was as long as a life-age of the earth. But it was not the end. I felt life in me again." Gandalf paused heavily. "I've been sent back until my task is done."

"Gandalf!" Aragorn exclaimed.

"Gandalf? Yes... That's what they used to call me. Gandalf the Grey. That was my name." Gandalf smiled, wiping away one of Alana's remaining tears. "I am Gandalf the White." Aragorn grinned proudly at the announcement. "And I come back to you now at the turn of the tide."

After Gandalf covered his new white cloak in an old grey one, they began their trek through the woods.

"One stage of your journey is over, another begins. War has come to Rohan. We must ride to Edoras with all speed."

As they exited the trees, Gandalf let out a piercing whistle, and from the distance, Alana could see their three horses led by a beautiful white one.

"That is one of the Mearas, unless my eyes are cheated by some spell." Legolas exclaimed in wonder.

Alana nodded excitedly. "He's Shadowfax, the Lord of All Horses. Gandalf befriended him. Isn't he beautiful?"

Legolas felt awed by her smile, the worry in him melting to be replaced with warmth. Gandalf truly could not have come back at a better time, otherwise Legolas did not know when he would have seen her smile again.

Shadowfax pulled to a stop in front of them, nudging Alana gently with his head while her eyes widened in wonder. She curtsied to him, before rubbing his nose in return.

Each of the travellers mounted their horse, with Gimli once again sitting behind Legolas, and made haste to Edoras.

As the capital city of Rohan came into view, they slowed slightly. "Edoras and the Golden Hall of Meduseld. There dwells Theoden, King of Rohan, whose mind is overthrown. Saruman's hold over King Theoden is now very strong." Gandalf explained.

Entering the city, Alana could only notice the black clothes and somber expressions of all its inhabitants, staring at them warily. 

"You'll find more cheer in a graveyard." Gimli grumbled, and Alana quickly hushed him.

They made their way up the hill to the centre of the city, following Gandalf's lead. At the entrance to Meduseld, a guard blocked their way.

"I cannot allow you before Theoden-King so armed, Gandalf Greyhame. By order of Grima Wormtongue." The man said firmly.

Gandalf nodded understandingly and waved to the others to hand in their weapons.

Alana first handed one of the guards her knives and bow, and before she had a chance to take off her quiver, one of the guards reached for it. Images of rotting, sickly hands reaching for her filled her mind. Panicking, she jumped back, yelling, "Don't touch me!" with her shaking hands in front of her as if to protect herself. The man stepped back with his hands in the air.

Gandalf looked on confusedly, eyes drifting between her trembling body and terrified eyes. "Alana, what..." As she looked over at him, realization filled him. Only once had he seen such a look in her eyes, when she was barely grown and had just returned from Caradhras. "Oh, my sweet child." He said in a sad, gentle voice. "He will not touch you, do not worry. Return to the present, Alana."

Alana clenched her hands in fists, looking over at Legolas and seeing the guilty look in his eyes. Forcing herself to relax, she let out a deep breath. 

"I apologize for my outburst. I know you mean no harm." Alana said to the guard quietly before handing him her quiver and stepping backwards to be closer to Legolas.

The rest of them finished handing over their weapons, except Gandalf who kept his staff.

The main guard pointed to it. "Your staff."

"Hm?" Gandalf looked at his staff, then back at the man innocently. "Oh. You would not part an old man from his walking stick?"

The man hesitated, but acquiesced, letting them enter without giving up the staff. Gandalf leaned heavily on Legolas as they entered.

A greasy-looking man with dark hair and sickly skin was whispering in the ear of a wizened king on a throne at the end of the Hall.

"The courtesy of your hall is somewhat lessened of late, Theoden King." Gandalf announced, giving up the ruse of leaning on Legolas. The other four travellers stepped back from him, surveying the room. 

After more whispers from the sleazy man, the king croaked, "Why should I welcome you, Gandalf Stormcrow?"

The sickly man nodded along. "A just question, my liege." He walked towards Gandalf. "Late is the hour in which this conjurer chooses to appear. Lathspell spell I name him. Ill news is an ill guest."

Gandalf sharpened his voice threateningly.. "Be silent! Keep your forked tongue behind your teeth. I have not passed through fire and death to bandy crooked words with a witless worm!" The wizard lifted his staff out of his robes.

"His staff!" Grima hissed, backing away. "I told you to take the wizard's staff!"

The guards then attacked, the four travellers defending Gandalf to the best of their ability. Though for a moment, Alana panicked at the sight of the attackers, she managed to focus her mind to fight them off.

"Theoden, son of Thengel, too long have you sat in the shadows." Gandalf declared, his staff raised. "Hearken to me! I release you from the spell."

The decrepit old king laughed menacingly and Gandalf's eyes widened in surprise. "You have no power here, Gandalf the Grey!"

Gandalf then tore off his grey cloak, revealing the startling white fabric underneath. Theoden recoiled. "I will draw you, Saruman, as poison is drawn from a wound."

As Gandalf moved his staff, the king was thrust back into his chair, and for a few moments, the candles in the room flickered, and a strong wind blew.

Then, it all stopped. A young blonde girl rushed to the king's side as his white hairs turned blond and clarity returned to his eyes. Soon, in his place, a much younger man was sitting.

"I know your face. Eowyn." The king mumbled. As the girl burst into tears, Alana could not help herself from looking over at Gandalf, her own father figure she had thought lost forever.

"Breathe the free air again, my friend." Gandalf said relievedly.

Witnessing the transformation of Rohan in such a short time, a people that had earlier that day been so sullen now so animated, felt like the rebirth of hope to Alana, even as they accompanied the citizens of Edoras to the prince's funeral, as heartbreaking as it was. 

The future felt bright again.