Previously:

Annabeth shared a horse with Haldir. She was getting tired of sharing but figured she'd bring it up later. The horn sounded and they charged. She focused on looking for Percy and Haldir smote down what orc was left from the fury of Aragorn and Théoden.

"Éomer!" Théoden yelled.

Annabeth looked up and saw Gandalf and Éomer charging the orc ranks, sun at their backs. As she looked, she saw Percy, having the time of his life, no care in the world, swiping down orcs with every swing. Clueless as to the worry he'd caused her the last few hours.

"Sidney? Are you sure?" Annabeth asked, her heart leaping to her throat.

"Who else would follow us?"

"Good point."

Annabeth and Percy were riding their own horses this time. They followed Gandalf, Théoden, Aragorn, Boromir, Legolas and Gimli through dark woods. The group was heading to Isengard to see how the battle to take it over had gone. Mist covered the path and created a blanket of dew on the travelers.

"What do we do?" Percy asked. They established already it was a good thing he hadn't reacted on his first instinct to attack blindly then as a result, get captured. It was almost immediately apparent what would have happened otherwise after the orc army ran off only to get crushed by Fangorn Forest. During the battle, it had crept closer to the opening of the pass in the mountains, blocking the way.

"Well, we shall see once we get to Isengard what we need to do," Annabeth started. "But we are getting her out of there for sure."

Eventually, the trees opened and they walked up to the cracked gates of Isengard. Joyful laughs from Merry and Pippin greeted them just outside the entrance. The two hobbits sat on the stone walls, drinking and smoking...merrily.

"Welcome, my lords and lady," Merry said excitedly, "to Isengard!" He pointed wildly behind him at the black tower.

"You young rascals! A merry hunt you've led us on and now we find you feasting! And smoking!" Gimli said, sounding very put off. Aragorn shared a smile with Annabeth and Boromir.

Pippin started talking with his mouth full, causing Annabeth to scrunch her nose in disapproval. These two have been away from civilized company for too long. "We are sitting on a field of victory, enjoying a few well earned comforts." He leaned forward with a sly grin and Merry let out a few puffs with a smug grin of his own. "The salted pork is particularly good."

"Salted pork?" Gimli's anger disappeared and was suddenly interested. Annabeth was just close enough to hear Gandalf's frustrated, "Hobbits."

"We are under orders from Treebeard, who's taken over management of Isengard." Merry said, satisfied with himself.

A bit of scuffle led for Merry to be riding on Boromir's horse and Pippin on Aragorn's. They continued through the muddy water toward the tower.

Annabeth's heart jumped when she saw him. Treebeard. The Ent she loved so much. He stood twice as tall as Gandalf on his horse and had a beard of branches and bark. His antics reminded her of all the dryads and saytrs at home. The sudden pang of homesickness caught her by surprise but she shook it off quickly enough.

"Huraroom...Young Master Gandalf, I'm...glad you've come," the Ent spoke slowly but deliberately. "Wood and water, stock and stone I can master but there's a wizard to manage here...locked in his tower."

"Did he just call Gandalf, young?" Percy whispered to Annabeth incredulously.

Her lips twitched as she nodded. Percy sat back on his horse and glanced from Gandalf to Treebeard in confused surprise.

"Show yourself." Aragorn muttered, looking up at the tower.

"Be careful," Gandalf said quickly. "Even a defeated Saruman is dangerous."

"Then let's just have his head and be done with it." Gimli said impatiently.

"No!" Gandalf said forcefully. "We need him alive...we need him to talk."

They looked at the tower in silence. Each wondering how they would get to him. Annabeth just waited. She knew the former white wizard would come to salvage what cards he had left.

"You have fought many wars and slain many men, Théoden king. And made peace after peace," Saruman learned over the edge of the top of the tower, leaning on his staff. "Can we not take council together was we once did, my old friend. Can we not have peace, you and I?"

Percy, not able to let Saruman pretend at anything, scoffed and shouted up at him. "You speak of peace when you hold a member of my family hostage? When there are hundreds of villages burned to the ground and children laying dead there?"

"Percy!" Gandalf spat, trying to stop him as the son of the sea dismounted and walked forward.

As expected, Percy ignored him.

"You speak of peace when you conspire with a fiery eyeball set on the destruction of the entire world?" Percy continued. The water was starting to get choppy.

"Annabeth, do something!" Boromir said, looking back at her.

Annabeth shrugged. "Why?"

No one had an answer to that so no one did anything.

"Those blasted orcs," Saruman cursed. "Can't trust them for anything covert." He disappeared and reappeared so suddenly, it was as if he had never left the edge of the tower. He returned holding a familiar brown haired camper by the arm. Her hands tied behind her back and a rag stuffed in her mouth.

Annabeth's mouth dropped open.

"Yes, I have your friend, she's put up quite a fight but I think we have her under control now." Saruman looked too smug for his own good.

"Clarisse?" Percy said in shock. She still wore her orange camp T-shirt and red bandana. There was no mistaking the daughter of Ares. Percy laughed in relief and the hilarity of the situation. "Oh, man, good luck." He laughed again at the shocked face of the wizard. "What ever happens to you is not my fault."

"What the Hades?" Annabeth muttered, still looking up at the two figures as Percy turned back to the group. He sent her a thumbs up.

"All is well, we don't need to panic." He called.

Annabeth could barely make out Calrisse's eyes as they disappeared into the back of her head.

"Your treachery has already cost many lives. Thousands more are now at risk," Gandalf said, taking control of the conversation again. "But you can save them, Saruman. You were deep in the enemy's council."

Gríma Wormtongue came up and took Clarisse from Saruman and said wizard adjusted his grip on his staff. "So, you have come for information," he paused to grin. "I have some for you." His hand came out of his robes holding a giant, purple glass ball with a small fire in the center. "Something festers in the heart of Middle Earth. Something that you have failed to see...the great eye has seen it." He put it away again. "Even now, he presses his advantage...his attack will come soon...You're all going to die."

As he spoke, Gandalf urged Shadowfax forward, away from the group.

"But you know this, don't you, Gandalf?" Saruman continued. "You cannot think that this Ranger will ever sit upon the throne of Gondor? This exiled, bred from the shadows. He will never be crowned king...Gandalf does not hesitate to sacrifice those closest to him. Those he professes to love...Tell me, what words of comfort did you give the halfling before you sent him to his doom?...The path you've sent him on can only lead to death."

"I've heard enough," Gimli spat, then whispered to Legolas, "shoot him. Stick an arrow in his gob."

The elf moved with a pleased smile to do just that but Gandalf stopped him. "No!" He glanced quickly at the two then back up the tower. "Come down, Saruman, and your life will be spared."

"Save your pity and your mercy!" Saruman shouted. "I have no use for it!" Fire shot out of the bottom of his staff at Gandalf, who was soon engulfed in flame. When they died down, the grey clad wizard sat on Shadowfax, both unperturbed by the heat, glaring up at him.

"Saruman, your staff is broken," Gandalf said and immediately, said staff shattered.

Annabeth half listened in disgust as Théoden tried getting Grima Wormtongue to switch sides again. She was distracted by the fact that Percy was no longer on the ground. No, he was climbing the tower.

"What in Zeus's name is he doing?" She muttered. The man she somehow fell in love with lost his grip momentarily, causing her heart to skip a beat. He'd already made it half way and he was about to die.

She glanced up when Saruman suddenly yelled out, "Cur!" And slapped Grima with enough strength to knock him over. Clarisse went down with him, unbalanced by the sudden pull on her arm. They both fell out of sight of those below.

"I will not be held prisoner here!"

Yep, there it is. Grima came out of nowhere, stabbing Saruman in the back just as Percy disappeared over the ledge. The greasy man stabbed one more time before Legolas's arrow pierced his chest.

Grima fell back, out of view again and Saruman fell off the tower onto a spike at the bottom.

"Percy?" Annabeth called up.

"Ow! Prissy watch where you're cutting!"

"Oh, I'm sorry I climbed a 20 million foot tower to cut you loose. Next time, I'll just leave you to find your own way down!"

"That would have been better—gerroff!"

"Fine!" Percy stomped off the edge of the tower, falling into the water that rose up to soften his fall. He emerged completely dry, a grin sent in Annabeth's direction.

"Prissy!"

- - -

"Oh, you can search up and down
As many lands as can be found
But you'll never find a beer so brown
As the one we drink in our tome town
You can keep your fancy ales
You can drink them by the flagon
But the only brew for the brave and true,
Comes from the Green Dragon!"

Hobbits singing and dancing on the table top was not something one comes to expect under normal circumstances. But as it has been mentioned before, this is not normal circumstances and things are only just getting started.

"What makes you think you can best me, punk?"

Annabeth was happily watching Gimli and Legolas at their drinking game when she heard the familiar challenge. "Oh, no." She muttered.

The last time Clarisse issued that challenge, the poor kid who took her up on it was in the infirmary for a week and bed rest for three more.

Her eyes scanned the hall. She wasn't sure if she wanted Percy to be the one that had gotten Clarisse riled up or not. At least if it was him, they could contain some of the damage. No such luck.

It was some blonde Rohan Rider and he was sitting at a table in front of Clarisse with his elbow on the table and hand in the classic arm wrestling position. At first she didn't realize it was Clarisse because she was in the 'proper attire' for a lady. Which meant she was wearing some kind of (not as fancy, obviously) dress that Éowyn had leant her. Percy avoided looking at her for a while because he had a hard time keeping a straight face.

Annabeth had offered to alter it that night so she felt more comfortable in it and that paused the grumbling the daughter of Ares was doing.

"My Lady," the poor guy started. "I don't know about where you are from but around here, the men are the ones riding out to war."

Annabeth rolled her eyes. Suddenly she didn't pity him anymore. With a superior like Éowyn, she's surprised he even voiced that thought. It only proved to make the daughter of Ares angry. Well, angrier than she was already.

She growled, slammed his hand backwards on the table and twisted him around so he was facing Annabeth. "You see her? She's been training since she was seven," Clarisse said. "Where I'm from, it doesn't matter who you are, you fight. Annabeth could beat your sorry excuse for a butt in her sleep when she was ten." She leaned in close to his ear. "And I have war in my blood."

The man whimpered even as Clarisse pulled on his arm a little more.

Annabeth mentally shrugged and brought out her knife to examine it's sharpness in order to play along. She fingered the blade as she stepped closer. He was still in Clarisse's iron grip and struggling to get loose.

"I'd think twice before you say something like that again, punk."

"You can let him go now, Clarisse." Percy's voice instantly making both Annabeth and Clarisse sag in disappointment. "Stop terrorizing him."

"Styx, Prissy, let us have some fun!" Clarisse said, stomping off to hang out with Boromir.

Annabeth sighed. "I was finally getting some sense in these baffoons," she complained, walking to Percy's side.

He smiled. "Sorry but it wouldn't be good if he died and it was because of someone in the Company."

She huffed. "We weren't going to kill him," she protested.

He sent her a disbelieving look and grabbed her hand, leading her to the dance floor. "You owe me a dance." He said, changing the topic.

"Me? I'm pretty sure it's you that owes me."

He laughed and rested his head on hers as she let her head drop to his shoulder. He was the prefect height for this.

And since Annabeth closed her eyes, she didn't see Clarisse glance over, smirk, and nudge Boromir. He grinned as well, and looked over at Aragorn and Gandalf who had been chatting off to the side earlier.

Gandalf had his eye on the hobbits but Aragorn had a sad smile directed at the two demigods.

- - -

That night, Annabeth had a dream. It wasn't a very fun dream. Nor would it have made much sense if she hadn't already known about the entire events, subplots and nuances about the series she was living through. It was one of those you haven't had in a while and hoped never to have again. The first demigod dream she'd had in her whole time in Middle Earth.

It started with Frodo and Sam, being led by Gollum through the marshes and transitioned to a white tree in flames. This tree represented the royal family of Gondor and it was dying. Hope was nearly lost in Minas Tirth.

Annabeth jerked awake at Merry's yelling. "Pippin!"

The aforementioned hobbit was on the floor, unmoving. Aragorn and Legolas looked as if they had just been outside and were by the door. Before anyone could do a thing, Gandalf rushed to his side. He placed his hands on Pippin's head and muttered something under his breath.

Pippin sucked in a large breath and opened his eyes to see Gandalf. Almost immediately, he started crying.

"Gandalf!" He said in regret filled relief. "Forgive me." The guilt and shame was overwhelming him, causing him to look away.

"Look at me!" Gandalf said, nudging Pippin's face. "What did you see?"

"The same thing I did, I'd wager." Annabeth said quietly, drawing the attention of those awake in the room to her. Percy and Clarisse were still drooling on their pillows. Ok, Percy was the only one doing that but Clarisse had an arm half crossed over her face and her mouth wide open.

Boromir, sat up with his elbow on his pillow to prop him up and blinked his blurry eyes, trying to focus. "What happened?" He asked, once he caught sight of Pippin. He leapt up from his bed on the floor to make it to the guilt ridden hobbit.

"Leave him be," Annabeth told Gandalf with a sigh. "He said nothing of Frodo to him and I can tell you what he saw."

"How would you know?" Gandalf challenged.

"As demigods, our dreams are not normal," Annabeth said, looking down at Percy. Despite the fact that he was sleeping right next to her, he still hadn't stirred. "More often than not, they mean something. I haven't had one in a while. The one I had last night was very similar to what Pippin saw. I saw the eye, and the tree at Minas Tirth in flames. I also saw Frodo and Sam. They are alive and are drawing closer to the volcano."

She chose not to say anything about Gollum. That would only worry them.

"I saw...I saw him..." Pippin muttered. "I could hear his voice in my head."

Annabeth sent him a sympathetic look. She also heard him. His voice was similar to that of Kronos's or Tartarus's. Like nails on a chalkboard.

"Let's go back to sleep," Gimli said. "We can decide what to do about this in the morning."

No one spoke as they all climbed back into bed. Except for Percy, who groggily sat up on one arm, much like Boromir had earlier and slurred, "Annabeth? Was'goin'on?"

"Go back to sleep, Seaweed Brain," she muttered sleepily, already curling back into his side.

He grumbled and plopped back down on his pillow, put an arm around her, pulling her closer and continued drooling.