Disclaimer: Don't own Smallville/Lord Of The Rings: The Two Towers
Sequel to - The Metahuman, The Ranger, and the One Ring
Fandom: Smallville/LOTR: The Two Towers
Disclaimer: Don't own
Summary: The broken up Fellowship are still trying to complete their respective missions, the League are still trying to find Zatanna, Chloe and Aragorn still have a couple of roadblocks to pass before they can actually have a relationship, and Lois is *still* trying to get into the book. Cue battles, jealousy, and some sexiness.
Aragorn nearly cursed in uncharacteristic fury as while he climbed Chloe's body, readying to finally claim her as his own there came an urgent knocking on his door. He could see the same desperation, need and annoyance on her own face as she reached for him and jerked him closer with such strength he ended up collapsing very unattractively on top of her body. But his beautiful blonde didn't seem to mind, in fact, the feel of his body on hers had a nearly feline cry escaping her lips and into his as she shifted her hips…and then it was his turn to growl like an animal as this shifting brought him at her entrance. Never had Aragorn felt such an instinctive need to claim someone. He'd been with women before, of different races, but never had he met someone like Chloe Sullivan.
Many times he'd wondered about her mother, the woman who'd taken Isildur's loyalty from his wife and family. While normally such women would be hated and rejected by the peoples of Middle Earth Moira Lane was a hero in her own right, and the people not only looked up to her, but had loved her. Elrond had once commented that it was because, sadly, the women in Middle Earth were usually stuck in the role of wife, mother, and that was exactly what Isildur's arranged bride had been. Just a womb. And yet Moira Lane had not only captured Isildur's heart, but she'd helped prove that women could be a role other than wife and mother. There'd been other female warriors before her, but none had accomplished what Moira Lane had.
Already he could see Chloe becoming what her mother had once been in the eyes of Middle Earth.
And as Aragorn stared down at her, cradled between her welcoming thighs and viewing the hunger and need so desperate on her face, he could finally understand his ancestor.
Had he been married and with children as well, he knew that he couldn't have forsaken this woman. He'd have disowned his vows, would have thrown away everything, just to be right where he was right now.
The knocking grew more frantic, breaking him out of his reverie. "Lord Aragorn!" One of the servants cried out. "Lord Eomer has returned with a strange female and news of approaching armies!"
Chloe and Aragorn froze and turned to look towards the door.
"We cannot find Lady Chloe!" The servant continued. "We are searching for her-."
"I'll find her." Aragorn cleared his throat, hoping it didn't sound as frustrated as he felt. "Tell Theoden King we will be with him posthaste."
"As you wish, Lord Aragorn." The servant left, his footsteps rapid as it disappeared.
With a groan, Aragorn swung his gaze back on Chloe. "I do not wish to go."
"Me neither." She sighed, reaching up to cup his cheek. "But he said something about strange women and Orcs, and that's got me worried."
Groaning in frustration, Aragorn captured her lips once more, hungry, biting back a snarl at being denied what he wanted with every fiber of his being.
"Aragorn…" Chloe pushed him away slightly, flushed, whimpering. "Don't make it more torturous."
Realizing he was doing exactly that, Aragorn let out a little cry as he rolled off of her and sat on the edge of the bed, reaching down for his pants somewhat resentfully.
Chloe embraced him from behind, pressing a kiss to the curve of his shoulder.
All the Ranger wanted to do was twirl back around and claim her, but the blonde let go and slipped off of the bed, moving to where her own clothes were discarded.
He paused his own dressing to watch her, even if it was painful in his already aroused state, to see her so naked and bent over. His eyes consumed her, unable to understand how she could be so self-conscious about those marks upon her body. The only reason why they bothered Aragorn was due to the fact that they were a constant reminder that he'd failed to be there for her when she'd needed him most, but aesthetically speaking, they looked beautiful. They were patterns of color against pale white. Like a painting. How could she think that it would disgust him?
Slipping into the ranger pants and shirt, Chloe grabbed her shoes and turned towards Aragorn, stopping in surprise to see him still naked and watching her.
Red bloomed on her breasts and rose up her neck.
"Get dressed." She threw him his shirt.
He caught it, never taking his eyes off of her.
This obviously made her uncomfortable, yet pleased, the blonde shaking her head as she stuffed her feet down her boots and grabbed her cloak. "I should probably leave first, so that no one realizes that we were together." Her smile went wry. "It would be highly 'indecent' wouldn't it?"
For some reason that was what spurred him to quickly pull on his clothes. "I told the servant I would go looking for you. It would be odd if we did not arrive together."
"True." She smiled nodding. "You're a cunning man."
He chuckled, standing, and then wincing at the sensation of his pants rubbing against his arousal.
Chloe's gaze lowered to his problem. "You can't go in like that."
"I will keep my cloak around me." He muttered, looking around for his cloak.
Chloe's face was evil as she approached. "I can help you with that."
Aragorn turned towards her, eyes wide, growing harder. "We do not have the time..."
And then she fell to her knees and Aragorn forgot how to breathe, much less speak.
The blonde's green eyes rose to his as she lowered his pants, his manhood free and at face level.
What was she-?
And then she leaned over and…licked…him.
Aragorn's eyes widened in shock, never having ever had-never having known-.
And then, as her mouth encircled him and her fingers his base, moving back and forth, Aragorn's mind went blank. There was nothing but warmth and a swish of a tongue, and those fingers stroking him. Her other hand cupped his balls, fondling them softly, adding to the blinding pleasure and before Aragorn could even realized what was happening he'd emptied himself down her throat.
The blonde's throat worked, her tongue still caressing him, her fingers milking him until he was only half hard in her mouth.
Pulling away, Chloe coughed slightly, an evilly pleased expression on her face as she righted his pants and stood, tongue licking her lips. "Ready?"
The Ranger could feel himself growing harder by the second. "I think you may have just made the situation worse."
"What?" Her pleasure turned to confusion until her eyes found his arousal hard against his pants, and shock and desire colored her orbs. "Well damn." She chuckled. "You're right. You're just gonna have to use your cloak and try not to walk funny." And with that, and a wicked little giggle, the blonde flashed him a grin and walked towards the door.
Chloe felt more woman than she ever had, and it made her step lighter as she hurried towards the throne room. Sure, her body was still high off of Aragorn's taste and resentful that it hadn't been satisfied in return, but if there was something Chloe was, it was controlled. It was why she only sent Aragorn a little smirk when he caught up with her right before the soldiers opened the doors to the throne room for them and they entered in together. No one seemed to notice them though, the king (sitting on his throne) and Gamling at his side, and the rest of those in the room had their eyes upon Lord Eomer.
Chloe smiled brightly, relieved that he'd made it.
"A great host, you say?" Theoden narrowed his eyes on his nephew.
"All Isengard is emptied." Eomer nodded, severe.
"Ten thousand strong, at least."
"Ten thousand?" Theoden whispered in disbelief.
"It is an army bred for a single purpose-to destroy the world of Men."
Theoden's face betrayed his true fear, his belief in their safety in Helm's Deep obviously shaken at its core.
"Also?" A new voice pipped in, causing Chloe's eyes to widen in shock. "Let's not forget that with how fast those Uruk-hai's were traveling, they're bound to be here by nightfall."
"Then let them come!" The king yelled, obviously still in denial.
Chloe wasn't paying attention to him through, she'd left Aragorn's side and was pushing through the crowds, trying to find the face of that voice, and then she did. "Lois?"
Lois twirled around at the sound of her voice, face lighting up. "Lil Cuz!" The brunette dashed towards her, the blonde meeting her halfway as the cousins embraced tightly, crying in relief to be together once more. "You're okay!"
"I can't believe you're here!" Chloe held on tightly.
The king paid no heed to their reunion, speaking to Gamling. "I want every man and strong lad able to bear arms to be ready for battle by nightfall."
"Yes my king." Gamling nodded before leaving the room to relay the order to the peoples.
"What is your plan, Theoden King?" Clark wanted to know, stepping forwards. "We would assist you in all we could."
Theoden stood from the throne and stepped down, placing a hand on the alien's shoulder. "We will cover the causeway and the gate from above. No army had ever breached the Deeping Wall or set foot inside the Hornburg."
Gimli leaned against the wall, eyes narrowed. "This is no rabble or mindless Orcs. These are Uruk-Hai. Their armor is thick and their shields broad."
Theoden stood tall before Gimli. "I have fought many wars, Master Dwarf. I know how to defend my own Keep."
The Dwarf shook his head at the king's blind arrogance.
Chloe and Lois pulled away from each other enough to eye the happenings, although they kept an arm around the other.
Theoden addressed the small crowd in his throne room. "They will break upon this fortress like water on rock. Saruman's hordes will pillage and burn. We've seen it before. Crops can be resown, homes rebuilt. Within these walls, we will outlast them."
"They do not come to destroy Rohan's crops or villages my king." Eomer pleaded with his uncle for reason. "They come to destroy its people down to the last child."
Theoden paused, turning towards his nephew, obviously knowing the truth in those words. "If this is to be our end, then I would have our men make such an end as to be worthy of remembrance."
"Send out riders, my lord." Aragorn finally spoke, stepping forwards from the crowd. "You must call for aid."
"And who will come?" Theoden challenged, face a sneer. "Elves? Dwarves?" He shook his head. "We are not so lucky in our friends as you. The old alliances are dead."
"Gondor will answer." Aragorn declared.
"Gondor?!" Theoden yelled in anger. "Where was Gondor when the Westfold fell? Where was Gondor when our enemies closed in around us? Where was Gon-!?" the king composed himself, staring into Aragorn's eyes as he spoke softly. "No, my Lord Aragorn. We are alone."
"Not alone." Oliver declared.
Theoden eyed the small group with no ties to Rohan who'd pledged their help. A small, grateful smile touched his lips as he nodded before he turned to Eowyn, who'd been silent in the corner of the room. "Get the women and children into the caves."
Eowyn looked like she wanted to speak, but instead nodded and went to do as told.
King Theoden turned to those in the room. "War is upon us."
The cousins tightened their hold on each other.
"Go Lane!" Dinah snorted. "It only took passed half of the second book for you to finally find Chloster!"
Zatanna rolled her eyes, reading on as Treebeard, still in Fangorn, finally makes it to the clearing where the remaining Ents are waiting on his arrival. Apparently their kind hadn't troubled about the wars of Men and Wzards for a very long time, but now something was about to happen that hadn't for an age. Entmoot. Or in other words, a gathering in which the Ents had to decide whether they'd go to war.
"Okay, so how cool would fighting trees be?" Dinah wanted to know, watching the picture burn of Pippin and Merry sitting on an inanimate tree while the Ents gathered in the middle of the clearing, discussing the upcoming war of Men and Wizards.
Chloe and Lois stood in Chloe's room, standing by the window and staring down at the mass organized movement below in the courtyard. The peoples of Rohan gathered their belongings and trudged together into hiding while soldiers assisted the elderly and sick into getting into the caves. Aragorn worked his way through the throng, speaking to Legolas, Gimli, Clark, Oliver and Eomer, the men having banded together and taking over the different aspects of preparation for the upcoming battle.
"They're going to place the reserves along the wall," Chloe mumbled to Lois as she watched Aragorn duck into the caves, helping an elderly woman along. "That way they can support the archers from above the gate."
Lois' gaze was on the soldiers handing out the swords to boys as young as seven and old men bent with age. "These are no soldiers."
"They're frightened, you can tell in their whole body. They're terrified." Chloe whispered, bringing a hand to her heart, tears filling her eyes at the thought of those children in the battlefield. "And they should be…barely three hundred against ten thousand!" She wiped at a tear. "They're not going to survive the night."
"I have some little toys with me that should help somehow-but I doubt that anyone but Oliver and you know how to actually use the guns without killing friendlies." Lois made a face. "Also? I need a crash course in swordplay because I kinda stink and I'm figuring my bullets aren't going to last too long."
Chloe frowned, turning to her cousin, terrified at the thought of her fighting. But then again, Lois had always been the warrior between them. "I'll teach you the little I know." The blonde went to her own sword and unsheathed it.
"Cool!" Lois grinned, going towards her katana and readying it, striking an impressive pose. "Give me your wisdom, sensei."
The door flew open and Ewoyn stepped forwards, face pale and pinched. "I'm to be sent with the women into the caves."
Chloe and Lois shared looks, lowering their swords and turning to the woman.
"To mind children, to find food and bedding for when the men return-if they return!" Eowyn cried out in outrage. "What renown is there in that?"
"Well, from what I've been reading, you can fight." Lois pointed out. "Those in the caves are going to need someone there to protect them should those above fall and the Orcs and Uruk-Hai slip through."
"I could do better making sure that none slip through." Eowyn argued. "But my uncle will not listen to my pleads, he's turned his ear from me." Her angry eyes rose on Lois and Chloe. "And yet he says naught of you two going into battle with the men!"
"We're not his nieces." Chloe tried to comfort the angered woman. "He really doesn't care if we live or die."
"Lord Aragorn cares if you live or die." Eowyn whispered, resentment in her eyes. "And yet he doesn't command you to stay! He lets you fight by his side!"
"Eowyn, nothing we can say is going to make you feel better." Chloe whispered, moving towards the angered blonde. "But I really meant it when I said that I know there's something incredible waiting for you. And when it's the right time, you're going to prove to everyone the warrior you are."
"I'll never prove it to anyone, not even myself, if I am forever placed with the invalid and infirmed!" With a little sob, Eowyn turned and stalked out of the room, slamming the door shut.
"Okay, why did she just come here to vent at us?" Lois wanted to know, tilting her head to the side.
"Because she doesn't have anyone else to tell her frustrations to," Chloe eyed the door sadly. "No one else who's female who would understand the need to join the battle and not hide."
Lois sighed, less annoyed now. "So, cue sword action?"
Chloe turned towards her cousin and smirked.
Clark was on the battlements with Legolas, the Alien and Elf having superior vision than the Men in Helm's Deep, and thus they would be the ones to give an advance warning whenever the Uruk-Hai army came into silence. His powers weren't back a hundred per cent, and some of them weren't appearing at all, but the ones he did have were slowly growing stronger. It made him feel relieved because it meant that coming through the book hadn't permanently damaged his heritage, and time would heal all that's been injured. Still, in situations like this he wished that he was a hundred per cent, because these people needed someone with his full abilities on their side. They were horribly outnumbered, out skilled, and if something didn't change soon everyone would be slaughtered come the new dawn.
"Chloe's kinswoman is very brave." Legolas murmured, his gaze up towards the bedroom. "She intends to fight despite being new to our way of battle."
Clark turned his gaze towards where Legolas was eyeing, his alien super sight letting him see in the distant window as the two women were sparring. Lois was surprisingly good considering she really didn't have any swordplay lessons, but then again this was Lois. She was hell in high heels. Made for war. She was probably in her element right about now. "Her father is the general of a great army, and she was taught the ways of war."
The sword flung out of Lois' hand and pierced the cushion.
Clark flinched. "Just not the ways of the sword."
"Understandable." Legolas commented, returning his gaze to the horizon. "I worry that your lessons may not have been sufficient."
Clark looked at the Elf in surprise at the concern, sending him a lopped smile. "I've got tons of aces up my sleeve. Don't worry. Anyway. Your lessons have gotten me this far, haven't they?"
Legolas did not look less concerned, if not, he seemed more. "Over-confidence is the first step to certain death."
"Legolas." Clark reached out and placed his hand on the Elf's shoulder, giving him a small smile and squeeze. "We're all going to make it out of this. I promise."
Legolas shook his head, chuckling. "For someone who assures me has been through wars with evil before, you are incredibly naive."
"Optimistic." Clark countered, chuckling as well. "And you'll see. We'll make it out of this."
Legolas sighed as he stared up into the Alien's face before shaking his head, lips twitching with wry amusement as his gaze returned to the horizon. "We shall see."
Soldiers moved to and fro preparing Helm's Deep for the imminent attack, and Aragorn sat on the steps to the Hall, staring across the steps. A young boy stood there, nervously holding a sword. The child couldn't be older than eleven summers, and the sword seemed larger than he was, something which the child was obvious to in the nervous way he held the blade. The boy's gaze slid towards Aragorn briefly before averting his gaze, clearing his throat.
Above, from Chloe's room, a candle went flying out the window before twirling through the air and hitting the ground loudly.
"I can't believe you threw a candle at me!" Chloe gasped.
"You weren't giving me time to retrieve the damned sword!" Lois exclaimed as the sounds of blades clashing could be heard. "I had to improvise!"
The Ranger shook his head, not exactly sure what to think of the kinswoman, before returning to gaze to the boy to once again catch him averting his gaze. "What's your name?"
The boy looked up, eyes wide. "Haleth, son of Hama, my lord."
Aragorn froze for a second as he gazed upon Hama's son, remembering the other's death at the jaws of a Warg, before taking in a deep breath and venturing towards the boy.
"The men are saying that we will not live out the night." Haleth tried for bravery, but there was terror in his voice. "They say that it is hopeless."
Aragorn reached wordlessly for Haleth's sword, giving it a few swings and holding it before him before turning to look at the boy. "This is a good sword." He handed it back. "Haleth, son of Hama…" he leaned down to him, as if sharing a vital secret. "…there is always hope."
In the armory, Oliver fumbled with his chain mail and leather vest, not exactly sure how to do this and wayyyyyy too proud to ask Eomer for help, the Donkey Defiler (as Oliver still referred to him in his mind) expertly putting on his own. He made up his face, staring down at the different straps and not exactly sure what tied up with what and what went where, the only comfort he had was that his hair still looked great. Still, he needed to get this whole thing before Eomer figured out that Oliver had no idea what in the world he was doing, because he was not going to let that guy have anything over his head. He was the cool one in this acquaintanceship. And by god it was going to stay that way!
"You know, I thought you just were trying to seem cool in the dungeons…" Oliver tried reaching behind him for a strap he was sure should be there. "But I'm beginning to think you're shy. Because you don't talk unless you have to."
"Is that so?" Eomer gave a little huff, securing his leather arm cuffs.
"Uh, yeah!" Oliver finally caught the strap and then tried to find the one he'd kinda/maybe/hoped it was supposed to hook onto…pausing when he realized that he'd lost track of where it was and needed to figure it out again. Great. "I mean, you survive being dragged off a cliff by a Warg, get saved by Lane of all people, and well, you'd think it'd make you more talkative."
"How so?" Eomer sheathed his sword.
Oliver would have made a face at him but he was too preoccupied trying to get his finger loose, the digit somehow gotten stuck at an awkward ankle through one of the loops. "I don't know…you almost died…you might die tonight…isn't this the part where you ask me to look after someone or tell someone something if you don't make it?"
Eomer sent the man a disbelieving gaze. "Why would I ask you to perform a task that important?"
"Because, well, we've got a bond." Oliver snorted as if this should be obvious. "We've spent unfair time in the slammer together, man. That changes people. It forms a bond that cannot be broken."
Eomer truly looked flummoxed. "You truly are the oddest person I have ever met." He shook his head. "I still think you are touched in the head."
"Just admit it Eeemie." Oliver hissed, the circulation stopping in his trapped finger not enough to keep him from teasing the warrior next to him. "We're blood brothers now."
"How many times do I have to tell you and Lady Chloe's kinswoman that my name is Eomer?" Eomer turned towards him, vastly annoyed. "Not "Dude". Not "Bro." Not "Bucko". Not "Nimrod". Not "Eeemie". Eomer. Lord Eomer. Nephew of King-."
"Yeah, yeah. Look. My finger's stuck." Oliver grumbled, hating having to let his shield of coolness slip even slightly. "Could you, uh, give me a hand?"
Groaning, Eomer stormed towards him and yanked the man's finger free before beginning the harshly strap everything into place, undoing the ones Oliver had already managed to do because apparently they'd been wrong. "What sort of warrior doesn't even know how to deal with his own chain mail and vest and such?"
"My last, uh, uniform was much easier to get into." Oliver decided to bit back his pride and let the guy help him. This once. "So…seriously…you have no one you'd want me to give a message to if you should bite the dust?"
"The only one I'd have a message for would be my sister." Eomer was reluctant to admit. "But I would want you no where near my sister should I die."
"She is kinda attractive in an angry sorta way." Oliver muttered to himself.
Eomer tightened one of the straps painfully tight on purpose. "Stay away from my sister."
"Fine. Gees!" Oliver flinched as Eomer eased up on the strap before finishing.
Gimli, it would seem, was having just as much trouble with his shirt of chain mail as Oliver had as he entered the room they were in, wrestling with it.
"Master Dwarf." Eomer turned to him, respectful.
"Need some help, Red?" Oliver wanted to know, feeling all superior now that his chain mail and such was all in order.
"If we had time, I'd get this adjusted." Gimli muttered, getting the shirt on, dropping the material to the floor, which landed in a heap around his feet…wayyyyy too long for the man.
Oliver couldn't keep from smirking.
Even Eomer was obviously finding it hard to hide his small smile.
Gimli made a face, running his hand over the material. "It's a little tight across the chest."
Oliver and Eomer nodded in feigned agreement, deciding to let the Dwarf pick what to complain about his own chain mail.
Suddenly a horn sounded from outside the gates.
Eomer stared up. "The time is upon us."
Gimli shook his head. "That is no Orc horn."
Oliver trusted the Dwarf's instincts and ran out of the Armory in time for the gates to be opened, and an army marched up the Causeway into the Hornburg to the surprise of none more than King Theoden. Oliver had never seen these elves before in the flesh, but he'd seen the drawings in the book, and knew who these Elves where. They were an army of Lothlorien Archers, and their leader was none other than Haldir.
Haldir led the Elves to Theoden, who stood with his lips parted, eyes wide in shock.
The Elf bowed respectfully.
"How is this possible?" Theoden's voice was that of a man who didn't dare to believe that such great fortune was his.
"I bring word from Elrond of Rivendell." Haldir rose from his bow. "An alliance once existed between Elves and Men. Long ago we fought together and died together." Haldir noticed movement and smiled at Aragorn, who approached. "We come to honor that allegiance."
"Mae govannen, Haldir." Aragorn grinned, closer. "Welcome."
Haldir extended his hand in the traditional elvish welcome but Aragorn bypassed that, pulling the surprised Elf into a grateful embrace, which the Elf returned.
"You are most welcome." Aragorn pulled away in time for Legolas to appear and clasp shoulders with Haldir in greeting.
The army of Elven Archers performed a left face and stood before Theoden for his review, the king still staring transfixed at them in shock.
Haldir bowed. "We are proud to fight alongside Men once more."