(A/N: Yay, that's me fixed this chapter, thank you KyriaFox for noticing and telling me :) Please enjoy and feel free to review ^.^)
Before them stood the dark mass of Mount Mindolluin, its tall white face whitening in the rising sun. Upon its out-thrust knee was the Guarded City, Minas Tirith. The seven walls of white stone known for being so strong and old that it seemed to have not been built, it looked carven by giants out of the bones of the earth.
"Welcome, Gandalf and Pippin, to my home, Minas Tirith…City of the Kings." Rune called towards them as she too looked up at the city. She hated the idea of being home, and felt the urge to turn back at any given moment, to rather face the wrath of the enemy than that of her father. At least she knew what the Enemy would do if he caught her. Suddenly the sun climbed over the eastern hills, forth a shaft of sunlight that gleamed against the white city. The tower of Ecthelion stood high within the walls. White banners break and flutter from within the morning breeze. Gandalf turned to Rune as they entered.
"Do as you are meant, guide us up the seventh level." He told her, and she nodded, leading her horse up the steep streets of Minas Tirith. Her horse galloped with ease through them, Rune noticed as the frightened Gondorians stared at them, and she felt somewhat ashamed for causing their fear. Pippin seemed unable to hold in his question much longer as he shouted over to her.
"Miss Rune, what did Gandalf mean by seven levels?" The hobbit asked anxiously, Rune smiled as she guided the horse through the winding streets.
"Minas Tirith is built in seven levels – each behind a circular defensive wall as you saw when we entered. Each level rises – the city reaches a height of nearly a thousand feet on its topmost tower. A towering bastion of natural rock – shaped like a sharp ship's prow – bisects the city from the second level to the top." Rune answered, both Pippin and Gandalf seemed shocked at her extensive knowledge. She grinned at their silence. "I read a lot as a child!" She called to them, taking them to the last and final level.
They arrived at a Great citadel that sat on the summit of the city. Rune watched as Gandalf and Pippin dismounted their horses and slowly did the same, her feet landing on the hard familiar ground. She was hesitant for a moment, she didn't want to be here, and she could see Gandalf hurry off and knew that she had to go with him. She spotted the four solemn citadel guard standing sentry around the old dead tree, the one that had brought them here, the one Pippin had seen. He paused for a minute and looked at it in shock.
"It is the tree!" He whispered toward Gandalf and Rune who had continued walking, Rune did not wish to be in her father's presence for long. Pippin noticing so took off after them. "Gandalf, Rune!" He called from behind them.
"Yes," Gandalf finally answered as Rune couldn't, her throat closed up and her body seemed heavy with fear and dread. She could only picture her father's rage that she had returned and Boromir hadn't. But she had come for Faramir, because he needed to know she was safe and the story behind what had happened, she had come for Pippin because he just needed her or Gandalf would tear him to shreds, she came for the Gondorians, to warn them of the danger. She was here now, she couldn't back out. "The white tree of Gondor. The tree of the King." Rune could feel her pulse began to speed up. She was doing this for her King.
Gandalf led them across a flat court of white stones surrounded by green lawns, towards a Great Hall beneath the gleaming tower.
"Lord Denethor, however, is not the King. He is a steward only. A caretaker of the throne." Gandalf explained to Pippin. Rune looked at them, her gaze unreadable even for Gandalf.
"He may only be a Steward, by he does not see himself as a mere caretaker." She warned them, Gandalf nodded before leaning down to talk to them.
"Now, listen carefully. Lord Denethor is Boromir's father. To give him news of his beloved son's death would be most unwise…And do not mention Frodo….Or the Ring….And say nothing of Aragorn either." Gandalf hesitated before once again looking at Pippin, "in fact, it is better if you do not speak at all, Pippin Took." Pippin, who had been suitably chastened, nodded his head. Rune looked at Gandalf.
"Do you want me to be the one to tell him about it all once you have told him of the oncoming attack?" She asked Gandalf who nodded solemnly.
"If you will Rune." Gandalf asked, Rune nodded her head and pushed the great wooden doors open. A long solemn hall with rows of black marble pillars lay behind the door. Between the pillars stand a silent company of tall kings carved in cold stone. Gandalf strode down the hall, Pippin and Rune following obediently behind them. Rune pictured her life when she was younger. Standing in this hall a many a time in front of her father, frightened. At the far end, upon a dais of man steps, sat a large empty throne, and on the wall behind it was the image of a flowering white tree set in gems.
At the foot of the dais, in a small stone chair, sat an old man, gazing at his lap. Rune took a hold of Pippin's soldier to reassure them both, there sat her father, Denethor – the Lord Steward of Gondor.
"Hail, Denethor, Son of Ecthelion, Lord and Steward of Gondor." Gandalf called his greeting, Denethor didn't''t look up as the trip approached. "I come with tidings in this dark hour – and with counsel." Gandalf called to him, stopping a little in front of them. Denethor slowly raised his cold eyes.
Perhaps you come to explain this?" Denethor asked bitterly, he held up Boromir's broken horn, split right down the middle. Rune placed a hand over her lips, biting down on her lower one to hold back a gasp, her eyes stinging with tears.
"Perhaps you come to tell my why my son is dead?" Denethor's words triggered the memories of Boromir dying, the sound of the horn ringing in her ears as she, Gimli, Aragorn and Legolas rushed towards the sound, Rune fighting the Uruk-hai with the blade Boromir gave her. Cutting down the foe, watching as Boromir finally accepted Aragorn with his final breath, she held Boromir with Aragorn. She could feel the life leave him as he had touched her cheek, his blood marking her pale skin. Pippin rushed forward, standing in front of Rune.
"Boromir died to save us, my kinsman and me, he fell, defending us from many foes." Denethor's eyes flickered in pain, Rune quickly came forward slightly, taking a hold of Pippins shoulder.
"Pippin!" She whispered hurriedly as the hobbit dropped to his knee, offering Denethor his sword.
"I offer you my sevice, such as it is, in payment of this debt." Denethor looked at Pippin blankly, overcome with grief. Rune had never once seen her father like that. Gandalf came forward.
"Get up!" He ordered Pippin before turning to Denethor. "My Lord, there will be a time to grieve for Boromir, but it is not now. War is coming, the Enemy is on your doorstep. As Steward, you are charged with the defence of this city. Where are Gondor's armies?" Gandalf questioned him, Denethor looked slowly at Gandalf.
"You still have friends – you are not alone in this fight. Send word to Théoden of Rohan. Light the beacons." Rune could hear her words ring out before she realised she had said them, Denethor then turned to her, smiling as if he was amused.
"You think you are wise, child, yet for all you subtleties, you have not wisdom. Do you think the eyes of the White Tower are blind? I have seen more than you know. With your left hand you would use me as a shield against Mordor and with your right you would seek to supplant me. Gandalf looked shocked, but Rune wasn't. She was used to her father knowing things he shouldn't. "I know who rides with Théoden of Rohan. Oh, yes. Word has reached my ears of this Aragorn, son of Arathorn, and I tell you now, I will not bow to this Ranger from the North – last of a ragged house, long benefit of Lordship." Denethor said contemptuous, looking at his daughter coldly. Gandalf stood between them, so he was now taking on the cold glare of Denethor.
"Authority is not given to you to deny the return of the King – Steward!" Gandalf shouted, Denethor stood quickly.
"The rule of Gondor is mine, and no others!" He shouted explosively, Gandalf kept his gaze fixed on Denethor, before he turned, leaving. Pippin followed him, but Rune stood stalk still,
"Come," Gandalf called to her but she didn't move, her eyes fixed on her father.
"If Boromir were still here, he would have talked sense into you," she whispered coldly to her father, who just looked at her.
"Yes, but he is not, and it is your fault he is dead." He whispered back to Rune who stood looking at her father, who still spoke spitefully. "You could have saved him, even if your life would be that of little exchange, Boromir would be alive, and you would be dead. Nobody would mourn, Gondor would not mourn!" He shouted at her, Rune lifted her head.
"Yes, father, you are right. I should have tried to save him, and I did, but he would not let us. He let go." She whispered, Denethor glared at Rune.
"I am not your father, you filthy peasant. Now leave! Leave my sight!" Denethor ordered, and she nodded, bowing slightly out of habit, and followed Gandalf and Pippin out the hall.