Aragorn entered the chamber, and Halbarad followed him closely, still clutching the banner Arwen had given him. He could not understand why Aragorn had called him up with him, but it had something to do with the great ball he was carrying in the cloak he had. There was a throne there in the room, and banners of the Mark blew gently in the late night breeze. It was here that Aragorn halted and turned to Halbarad.
"I want you to go out the door and close it," Aragorn said.
"Why?" Halbarad asked, "The night is getting old and the moon is pale this night and bids thee to sleep."
"I will not sleep, my good kin," Aragorn said kindly, "For I have a duty to fulfill."
"Shall I check on thee, my lord?" asked Halbarad.
"Nay," Aragorn bid, "Do not disturb me at all, if you do not want the greatest disaster to befall us."
Halbarad looked uncertainly at his lord, then turned and walked out. He closed the door and sat down, wondering what his lord wished to do.
Aragorn looked at the door for a few minutes, and then unraveled it. There it was, the palanitr of Orthanc. It looked as if it was darker then midnight, indeed, he could barely see it in the little light that shone through the window. He then lifted it with both hands, shaking with fear and anticipation.
He looked deep into it, and suddenly all around him was fire, he seemed to be writhed in it. It was nothing more then what was around the ball, a mystic flame, but it seemed to be all around Aragorn. He was bewildered by this.
Then he saw it. Barad-Dur. Standing like many teeth out of the ground, going higher and higher into the sky. It seemed to forebode the evil inside.
Then he saw him. Sauron. He was standing on top of Barad-Dur and the Ithil stone shown clearly even from here. It was held several feet in front of Sauron, levitated. Sauron seemed utterly displeased.
"About time you reported Saruman," he growled, "I have waited a long tim- Who are you?"
Aragorn nearly hesitated. "I am Aragorn, Son of Arathorn, Heir of Isildur."
Sauron suddenly stopped. Aragorn? Who was he? How did he dare to take upon him the mantle of the Hier of Isildur? The person infront of him wore mighty armor and shined white.
"How do you dare call yourself the heir of Isildur?" demanded Sauron, "He died, he had no heir, no son."
Aragorn smiled. He could feel the doubt raging inside of Sauron. Sauron was not exempt from fear.
Aragorn drew his sword and held it high. "Behold Andruil, the Flame of the West. It was once Narsil, which you broke. It has been reforged. Look good at it, foul servant of the abyss."
Sauron did and he could not help but take a step back. How could this be? He had thought that maybe there were some heirs still out and about, but he had never dreamed it to be true. But, he would not be taken so easily.
"I still have the Ithil Stone and still control the Orthanc Stone," Sauron snapped, "And you shall die!"
"Really?" mockingly asked Aragorn, "I thought the Ring bearer could not be killed by you."
"You have the Ring?" asked Sauron.
"Make your own guess," Aragorn told him, "I am going to Minas Tirith before you can stop me."
"Ah," Sauron said with a smile, the fool is walking right into a trap, "I will have it ravaged before you get there."
"I doubt," Aragorn shrugged, "I leave now, but only after I wrench this stone from your will."
"Oh no you don't," shouted Sauron, "This is mine! You might have Narsil, but I have the stones!"
"Not for long," replied Aragorn.
Halbarad woke up with a start. Eomer was walking up to him. It was nearly noon now.
"Is Lord Aragorn in there?" Eomer asked, pointing to the door.
"Yes he is," Halbarad said, standing up, "He is not to be disturbed. Why do you need him?"
"Theoden King wants him to know we are going to leave," Eomer said, a little impatient.
Right as he said that, the door opened and Aragorn nearly collapsed. Halbarad grabbed him by the arm and tried to lift him up. Aragorn seemed a lot older.
"Let me go," Aragorn commanded, "There is work to do."