With Hope and Without Hope

Chapter 26: A Day in Orthanc

Pippin focused on the wide pot in his hands as he climbed the high steps, trying not to spill any more of the water before reaching Strider. Carrying the tub of hot water up all those stairs was more difficult than he'd expected, and he no longer had a full container. The pot was too large for him to carry easily, and his arms and back ached from the effort.

But he was almost there, he reminded himself as he reached the top of the stairs. He anxiously retraced his steps back to where he'd left Strider what seemed hours ago. It was silly, he knew, but he felt wary leaving Strider alone with the wizard. The glint in Saruman's eye when he looked upon the man gave Pippin the shivers. Eventually he was going to act on whatever thoughts put such a look on his face. Pippin worried for Strider then.

Saruman was nowhere he could see as he shuffled through the dim hall, trying to be hobbit-quiet on feet sore from walking on hard stone. He hoped he would be able to help Strider, not that Pippin deserved the chance to help. Nor would Strider ask for any, but most likely he would need his aid.

Pippin made his way into the room where he had left Strider. Puzzled when he didn't see the Ranger at once, Pippin noticed for the first time how many recesses branched off from the main space. He shrugged and began making a circle around the room, looking into each niche for a sign of his friend.

The spaces were small but lightless, and Pippin stepped into each to be sure he didn't miss Strider. After circling halfway round the room, he willed away the worry that began to gnaw at his belly as he peeked into the next one. Finally, he spied a form among the shadows. He took a step inside and waited until his eyes could see in the darkness. Sure enough, there was a man huddled in one of the dark corners. His stomach tightened with foreboding.

Strider leaned against the far wall, unmoving as Pippin approached. The hobbit took in his haggard, disoriented look and guessed that Saruman had finally turned to Strider for his next amusement. Pippin shuddered. Why had he left him? True, he'd been without a choice in the matter. If he had defied Saruman, he would likely have found himself beside Legolas and Gimli. Whether that was slaving away at some impossible task or something far worse, he had yet to learn. He dared to hope Merry was faring well enough, and Pippin forcibly shoved his worry over his cousin from his mind. For the present, he could only offer help to Strider.

Pippin took a few more steps and decided to first rid himself of his burden. Carefully setting the basin on the stone floor so it didn't make a loud noise, Pippin looked to Strider for a reaction. The Ranger was looking off into a distant view only he could see, apparently unaware of the hobbit.

"Strider?" Pippin asked, stepping closer.

Silence answered him. After a long moment that used most of Pippin's patience, Strider blinked and stared at Pippin, but somehow the hobbit was sure he did not see him. His stomach began acrobatic antics he did not appreciate. "Strider? Are you well?" The man looked far wearier than when Pippin had left him. If it were possible, Pippin would have said he had aged.

Swallowing his worry and fear, Pippin took a few more slow steps toward the man. "Strider? Are you awake? It's Pippin..." At a loss for another way to get a response, he advanced again. Now he saw confusion in those once clear grey eyes, which began to dart around. "Strider? It's just you and me. There's no one else."

He pointed towards the opening of the alcove and Strider's eyes followed. He shook his head to rid himself of whatever had passed for sleep and looked around the room as if for the first time. Perhaps Strider was not sure where he was, or whether Pippin were truly standing there, or if his nightmare continued.

"We are in Orthanc, Strider. That much is true. Saruman sent Legolas and Gimli down to the Pits, as they seem to call them. Merry's been made a servant of an orc, but I wager he'll make the best of that. Perhaps we will soon learn more of the others' fates.

"I am, well, I am now in the service of Saruman. It's all real, I'm sorry to say, though it sounds more like a nightmare. But right now, Saruman is nowhere to be seen." Pippin looked about him to be sure. "There's only you and me. For the moment, we're safe. Oh, and I have hot water for your leg." Pippin went back for the pot, set it down closer to Strider, and pulled out some rags from his back pocket. He looked at Strider expectantly, hoping his speech had penetrated the haze in which the man seemed to linger.

Strider then did the most unexpected thing: he began to laugh. Merely a low chuckle, but it startled Pippin all the same. He wondered if he should worry for Strider's mind. "My dear Pippin," Strider finally said, his voice heavy with weariness, "Thank you."

Pippin smiled uncertainly. "Whatever I've done, I'm glad for it, if it has helped you."

Strider closed his eyes and leaned his head against the wall. Jerking his head forward and opening his eyes suddenly, he turned once more to Pippin. "You brought me back. I was... I lingered in places I would rather not."

Pippin looked at Strider with appraising eyes. "Where did Saruman take you?"

Despair flickered across Strider's face. Eventually the man's gaze landed on a pedestal to Pippin's left he had failed to notice. It was about head high to him, and a strange rock sat atop it. It was eerily smooth and shiny, and darker than it should have been, he thought. His brow furrowed with curiosity. He had never seen such a thing.

"He laid my hands on that stone, then..." Strider said nothing more for a time, but the words dimmed some of Pippin's interest. Whatever could affect Strider so strongly must be a terrible thing. "Through some power of his, he showed me ...things. Such things I am powerless to stop."

Pippin turned back to Strider. "What sort of rock is that, that it can do such a thing?"

Strider's eyes flickered, and he shook his head sharply. Looking wearier still, his face told of some of the horrors into which Saruman had thrown him. "It seems to be under Saruman's control. Perhaps it holds some old power that works with his own. The visions he brings me may be true or they may be his creation. I do not know. They are as real as you are when I am there."

As he saw the despair and weariness resurface in Strider's face, Pippin began to understand how Saruman intended to punish the man. For Legolas and Gimli, who meant little to him, physical punishment was enough. For this man, greater than all of them, his punishment was also to be greater. Whatever he planned, he had begun with his mind.

The water! "Well, we should get to this water before it goes cold, shouldn't we? It would be a shame to waste it."

"Yes, yes, please." He tried to move closer to the pot, but sagged against the wall in defeat after a meager attempt. "Forgive me, Pippin. I must ask-"

"Of course." He dragged the water next to Strider and grabbed the rags. "What can I do to help?" Strider stuck his finger in the water and failed to swiftly pull his finger out. The water had cooled considerably. "Is it still hot enough? Will it work?"

"Was it boiling when you started?"

"Yes, boiling furiously. I let it boil a bit on the fire before taking it, hoping it would take longer to cool."

"That was good, as it better cleans the water as well." Strider slowly stretched out his injured leg. He pulled back what fabric was left around the wound. He sighed heavily. "...hope this works," he said under his breath. Strider took a rag and dropped it into the water, then squeezed out the water and laid the rag on the wound. Still, he winced. He laid a shaking hand on the skin above his knee. "The infection has begun to spread. You will need to bring me hot water as often as you are able."

"Of course. I'll do my best." He watched silently as Strider squeezed out a new rag over the wound, and Pippin wondered if his tremors were due to exhaustion, hunger, or something worse. He thought again of the stone and of what he had told him. "What did you see, when you touched it?" Although he could not help asking, he feared the answer, feared for Strider and what more he might have to endure.

Strider sighed again. After a long the silence, he said, "Rohan, destroyed. They were all destroyed. Every last one..." He shook himself. "I could do nothing to help or hinder. I could only watch as the Rohirrim were cut down... I may never know the truth of what I have seen, and trying to discern the reality will drive me into madness. It may be the suffering of the Rohirrim is true." Once more he was silent and still.

"Don't think on it further, Strider. Let's attend to this leg, why don't we?"