Hobbit/The Lord of the Rings Imagines

Mist 7

Mist gave a weary groan as she sat against a wall of Helms Deep, the battle over and won. She wasn't sure she had ever fought so hard before, although, fighting in a large battle seemed oddly familiar to her.

Boromir joined her with a heavy groan. "Well, that was fun."

Mist snorts. "At least Gandalf showed up at the right time."

"Wizards are good for that." Boromir said then started to laugh.

Mist smiled and shook her head.

The wizard then approached. "Come, we must head Isengard."

"Not even a rest then?" Boromir asked, groaning to his feet.

"We must make haste." Gandalf countered, his gaze turning to Mist. "You may not wish to come."

She shrugs as Boromir helps her stand. "I want to see what this wizard has to say for himself."

The ride to Isengard was quiet, the battle still heavy in their minds and with thoughts of what more was to come.

Isengard was flooded, smoke rising from the many pits and near silence surrounded them.

Two hobbits sit high on the wall and both laugh in welcome.

"Welcome my lords, to Isengard!" Merry called.

There was much jest said between them all and they headed in closer to Saruman's tower.

Mist gaze never left it.

Saruman was atop his tower and fear clung in the air.

"His power is gone." Mist said quietly. "I feel nothing."

"Yes, Saruman no longer is a threat to us." Gandalf confirms. "But that does not mean he is not powerless."

While they discuss what to do, Pippin climbs off the back off Gandalf's horse into the water. There, he bends and pulls out a black orb.

Mist tenses as she feels the power thrumming from it. "Is that..."

"I'll take that, Peregrin my lad." Gandalf said quickly, taking the orb and wrapping it in his cloak.

Even under his cloak though, Mist could feel the thrum of power from it.

"I hope you intend to be rid of that thing Gandalf," She said to him quietly as they ride out. "No good will come from it."

Once back, Mist was quick to make sure she was as far from what Gandalf had as possible.

Boromir found her in the late hours of the night watching the distant light of Mordor.

"Are you alright Mist?" He asked quietly as he approached.

She doesn't look around but inclines her head slightly in response. "Of course. I do envy you at times, being able to shut all this stuff out and rest. I wish I could do so."

He frowns, it was the first time she had really mentioned it. "Why can you not?"

She shrugs. "I do not know." There is a flare in the direction of Mordor. "His power is growing."

Boromir gives her a long sidelong glance, thinking for a moment. "You can feel it?"

Mist nods slowly. "Distantly."

They stare in silence for a moment.

"Do you believe in second chances?"

Boromir looks at Mist, who's gaze hadn't left the horizon. "What do you mean?"