CHAPTER ELEVEN-

The road to the "Door Under the Mountain" was long and tiring. The path was rocky and completely covered with moss in places. Gimli swore violently in one incident when he slipped on the moss and landed flat on his back, "Damn it! FUCK!" "Perhaps it was bad ideas for you to teach him to swear the way people do in your homeland," Legolas chuckled. "I think you are right," Aragorn teased, "Though it is rather entertaining to see him do so."

If looks could kill, I would not be here to record my adventures for you to read. Gimli coughed and sputtered as I pulled him to his feet and Brego eyed him closely. Once the dwarf was standing he assured us that only his pride was hurt and we moved on.

Sunlight filtered by the trees above gave off a greenish-gray light as the sun began to rise and we heard the thunder of hooves in the distance. "Sounds like the Rohirrim are riding out," Gimli spoke first, "I hope that they survive the battle." I looked in his direction with a look of pure venom. The dwarf noticed the look and said, "Don't tell me the lass road to battle!" "That she did Master Dwarf. I have the foreknowledge that she would have anyway. I told her the information that she needed to know and told her to be careful. There was not much more that I could have done," I snapped. The smile quickly slid from his face when he realized that I wasn't joking.

Aragorn spoke up and said, "While I enjoy your company and conversation, it is best for your health if you cease talking for a time." Gimli mumbled an apology and lapsed into a tense silence. It was near midday when we arrived at a large, rectangular hole in the mountain. There were symbols and a language carved into that I instantly recognized. It was old, "High German!"

"What did you just say," Legolas asked me. "I know this language! It is one of the languages of my ancestors! It is known as 'High German.' " "That's what father said it was," Legolas seemed surprised that I knew what it was, "He told me that this was the language of a man claiming to be from another realm when I was but an elfling."

"That must be what Lord Elrond meant when he said that it was vital that you accompany me," Aragorn directed this at me. I nodded as I looked at the language carved into the damp, grey stone. At this moment a blast of cold air burst from the opening with a groan. Brego spooked and ran off before Aragorn could stop him.

"They way is shut. It was made by those who are dead and the dead keep it. The way is shut," Legolas translated. Noticing my look he added, "Ada and your ancestor taught me the language." I just nodded and waited for Aragorn to lead us in (and lead us in he did).

"I do not fear death," Aragorn snarled as he charged in. Legolas followed him closely. "Come Gimli," I stole a line from the second movie before stepping boldly through the doorway. From behind me I heard Gimli muttering something about elves going underground "…where a dwarf dare not" and he was behind me in seconds.

Aragorn did not want any of us to risk being attacked by what may be lurking in the tunnels and didn't give me a choice in sharing my miruvor. I am glad that he did because we were attacked by gigantic snakes and a few goblins that night. Deciding that it was best for us to keep moving, we continued our journey after defeating the small raiding party.

I couldn't tell due to the extreme darkness in the caves, but it was late the next afternoon when we finally reached the main cavern. It was silent for a few moments until a sickly, green mist began pouring from the decaying buildings that had been carved into the cavern walls. "Shit! Well," I thought to myself, "Here we go."

A deep, sinister and deafening laugh filled the massive chamber. Suddenly a an army of ethereal warriors appeared before us and two huge figures pressed through the crowd toward us. "Two? There was only one in the movie," I found myself referring to the movies again.

"The way is shut," the figuring wearing a crown said, "It was made by those who are dead." I was too busy studying the ghost standing next to him and did not hear the rest of Aragorn's interaction with the crowned figure. I was too busy studying the specter standing next to him. The figure looked so familiar and yet I couldn't figure out where I had seen him before. That's when it hit me! The figure from my dream! This was my ancestor's cowardly son, born to him of a woman of Gondor!

"What's the matter lad," Gimli whispered to me. "The man standing next to the head ghost is my ancestor's coward son whom he disowned and disinherited," I told the dwarf. By now Aragorn had the "Ghost King" by the throat and I saw my ancestor sneaking up on him. "I don't fucking think so asshole," I barked as I blocked his ghostly blade with my sword.

The look of surprise and fear on his face was one that still haunts me to this day. Not as much as the look of peace after the battle of Minas Tirith, but that comes later. "NO! It can't be! You're dead," the coward son shouted! "I am not your father! I am a descendant of your brother that returned home to Germany," I informed him loudly. "Then the things you wear belong to me," he argued. Squaring my shoulders I said, "They do not and you know it. Your father disowned and disinherited you for your act of cowardice. He said that he instantly regretted it but didn't know what to do. My guess is that you are as prideful as I and the rest of our line are but, you also regret what you said and wish for peace." "A very astute observation," my ancestor's ghost replied, "I wish that I could go back and change it all but I cannot."

I studied the poor shell of a thing he'd become and took him in, down to the last bit of flesh peeling from his bones. "Go ahead lad. Aragorn has already gotten the king to pledge their support, but this one needs doing by you. He is of your realm and is therefore separate from them," Gimli encouraged me.

My ancestor looked sad but hopeful at the prospect. I furrowed my brow in thought as his green light pervaded my field of view. "Okay. Here is how this will work," I continued, "You, your sons and your grandsons will join your king's army, but you will fight under my command and do as I tell you to. If you fulfill this oath with complete obedience and do not muck it up I will hold your oaths fulfilled. You will again be part of the family of Geisler. If you do not you will be doomed to fight under my command and under my orders down to the last of my line before you are allowed to be at peace. Understood?" He grimaced but his face lit up and grew hopeful. "DO YOU UNDERSTAND," I bellowed! "Yes. Yes, of course. We will do it," he answered with a genuine smile (made all the more frightening by his being dead). "I can't rightly keep addressing you as 'Hey You.' What is your name," I asked him. "Wilhelm Heinrich Geisler IV," he told me. "Okay. Do you have any living descendants in Middle Earth?"

"Yes," he grunted sadly, "Thanks to my father they have no rights to lay claim to your possessions or anything else that is now yours." "I wasn't worried about that but thanks for the information. Now send a messenger to them and tell them that if they want to regain their honor they are to meet with us in Minas Tirith under my command. MOVE," I shouted the last word. He turned and muttered in German to a lad that looked no older than sixteen before the boy shot off like a cannon.

"We will hear you no matter the distance and are with you even if you do not see us," the king said. "As are we," Wilhelm added. "That's good to hear," Aragorn answered before continuing, "No we must move quickly lest Minas Tirith falls!"