With Hope and Without Hope

Chapter 25: The New Way of Things

Aragorn glared at Saruman, willing his barbed words to end. Each phrase needled his wounded pride and fed his growing regret over his ill-made decisions. As a result, his despair wrapped more tightly round him. But his well-trained restraint kept him silent as Saruman finally ended his tirade.

The wizard led him into a dim recess off the main hall. It was similar to the one in which he and Pippin had taken their meal, though it reached deeper into the shadows and was drearier for it. An orc deposited a torch into a sconce, but it did little to chase away the shadows.

At the wizard's command, the orc thrust Aragorn before Saruman, who stood beside some small structure draped with cloth. "So proud, so defiant. You shall soon learn the new way of things."

The wizard's words chilled Aragorn with foreboding. He swayed in his exhaustion and struggled to puzzle out Saruman's actions. The wizard grabbed the ropes tying his hands together and lifted his arms. In one motion, he ripped off the cloth covering the pillar and planted Aragorn's hands on a smooth dark stone set on the pedestal.

Aragorn gasped as he found himself thrown into an eddy of endless depths. The shadows of the alcove, the glaring face of Saruman, even the cold, smooth stone, all of it faded as his vision was filled with a suffocating black darker than night. Aragorn strove to pull away from the gloom, but there was nothing against which to push.

Even as he attempted to make sense of what was happening, the murk began to clear to a dim grey. He sensed, then saw shadows moving about, which soon became figures, and then Aragorn was on the fields of Rohan, amidst a fierce battle. Startled, Aragorn tried to dodge an oncoming sword, then to rush an orc, weaponless or no. But his efforts were in vain. He could move neither to his own aid nor that of another.

Some part of his mind tried to explain how this came to be, as orcs viciously attacked the Rohirrim. The Rohirrim defended their land valiantly, but if only by numbers, they were fated for defeat. Powerless to do aught but witness the destruction, Aragorn watched in grim resignation as warriors of Rohan were slain before him. As the orcs carried on their merciless conquest, Aragorn found he could not turn away as bodies were mutilated; he could not close his eyes as orcs licked blood from their blades and howled in victory.

After what seemed a lifetime, blackness returned until Saruman was before him once more, eyes boring into him. As Saruman released his hold on the stone, Aragorn shuddered. His knees gave way, and he collapsed to the floor, sending pain shooting through his injured leg that helped to clear his mind. He could only catch his breath on the floor as Saruman sneered. "Think on what you have seen, Dúnadan. What would you do? What hope is there? Can you yet save them, heir of Isildur?" With that, he left the alcove, his questions hanging in the air behind him.

Lying prone on the floor, still panting, Aragorn's scattered thoughts returned to the army of Rohirrim cut down before his eyes. He saw them whether his eyes were open or closed, but he tore his thoughts from that field. Though he would not have thought it possible, he was far wearier than he had been before he had entered this room. His body felt weighted down, his head too heavy to lift.

Yet, questions plagued him. Had this been a vision of Saruman's creation? Had it been a threat? Was this the future he intended for Rohan? Searching his knowledge for some explanation, some power Saruman could have gained to perform such sorcery, what Aragorn dreaded most was that the wizard had somehow shown him the truth. Had he taken him to that field?

The wizard's questions demanded answers. If this vision were based in truth, what would he do? As near as he was in this tower, he could offer Rohan no succor. If he were free to journey to Rohan, what could he do, in truth, to save the people of Rohan now? He had seen enough to know the Rohirrim suffered, if what he had seen was reality. As Saruman had asked him, he now asked himself: was there any hope for them?

No! He stopped his thoughts dead. He would not give in to Saruman's despair so easily. Hope was hard to find here in Orthanc. As little hope as he might be left with, though, despair would not win him without a struggle.

If only those images of the Rohirrim did not linger....