Author's note: I own nothing, and I make nothing!
Prologue
The door to the tower room crashed open as the fellowship poured inside. The table lay in splinters on the ground, one chair was smashed against the wall, and near the window a dark black stain dripped... pooling on the floor,
...but there was no sign of the wizard, or the king.
Riding to Mordor
The pounding rainfall flooded the roads and gathered into the grassy sides, not yet far enough to be turning hard and rocky. He opened his eyes, looked weakly to the rider before him, and felt the muscles of the steed flex as it carried them quickly. Had there been a battle, was he wounded? Where was his mount? His armor? How had he come upon this garment? An emblem that proclaimed the White Tree... "...Khamul... where are we..."
The Nazgul's shoulders turned slightly, acknowledging that he had heard. "We pass the fields of Pelennor...and ride for Mordor..."
He nodded, (as long as the path led to Mordor...) A cry rose from the riders, haunting in its beauty, its glory, even as it leaked out their pain. A group of faces flashed through his mind, elven, human, a dwarf? The ring on his finger flashed without his notice, and the faces faded... he closed his eyes, to weak to join the song.
Minis Tirith
"Gandalf!! Can you hear me?!"
Outside the White Tower, on the ground below the window, lay the form of the wizard. Shards of glass had cut his face and robes, staining both with deep red. He lay on his side, crumpled, unmoving... "Gandalf..." Legolas bolted from the room and down the stairs.
Faramir and the others stood stunned a moment more before charging after him. They were silent as they ran down the tower, silent as they gathered quickly around the pale form, "Gandalf, can you hear me?" Legolas had a desperate look in his eyes, "Ed' i'ear ar' elenea! Mithrandir!"
A low moan answered him, the wizards eyes fluttered lightly, "The king... onto the dark lands... they've taken... ... Mordor... ... ..." a light drizzle began to fall, filling in the hoof prints that lay all around.
"He's delirious; we need to take him to the hall." Murmured Faramir.
Legolas nodded, fallen silent as he watched the red spread over the ground as the rain carried it away. He stood and lifted the mumbling Wizard. "Faramir... see where these tracks lead..." the elven prince vanished around the side of the tower.
The others ran after; Faramir stood for a moment more, watching the red, as Legolas had done, as it washed down the hill. "Why Aragorn... why did you put on that ring..."