Although it was true that Chiropterans could change their form as they liked, Arya still had not found any reason to give herself wings. Perhaps it was because her father would often give her and her sister rides as he flew, and William as well, perhaps it was because with her Chiropteran speed, she could move from place to place in speeds faster than any other being... She could sense that Boromir was a little jealous that Haldir could fly, but decided to leave the nudging and teasing for later. There were more important matters they had to attend to.
"Boromir, do not worry," she told her Chevalier on the first night of their journey, while she was taking the watch, with Gandalf and Pippin already asleep. "We will be able to save Minas Tirith, I know it to be." There was an encouraging smile on her beautiful face, and Boromir put his hand on hers. He knew that she, too, was genuinely concerned for the White City. Who would not, at those times? Minas Tirith would be the final stronghold of Men against Sauron, and oftentimes, his people would look not only to him for hope, but his Queen as well. She knew the city even better than those who ruled it, for the Valar's sake!
Wrapping an arm around her shoulders and pulling her close to him, he said, "I know, Arya. We will be able to save our city." He had known Arya not only with the many times they had fought together, but through the history books he was forced to learn as a child, from an early age, he had already known that she had never given up in a fight, and that she and Diva would fight to their last drop of blood before even considering to surrender before the Enemy.
Smiling, she leaned her head on one of his broad shoulders. "But, I really fear your father," she added. "When he knows that his first-born son has returned to Minas Tirith, carrying a Queen in his arms, flying into the Citadel, he will practically figure out that you are now Chevalier..." she had gotten so used to him that she even forgot that he was probably unfamiliar to the word she had just said. For usually in Middle Earth, Chevalier were just called "Knights" or "Rochir". Knowing Denethor, he would cast her out of the White City, and possibly order his men to kill her once he knew that his son was no longer counted among the race of Men.
"You did what you could to save me, Arya," Boromir told her, tipping her chin so that he could see those sapphire orbs clearly. They were clear and dark by the fire's light, not feral and fearsome as they had been whenever they were faced with battle. And it was strange, that in his Chiropteran form, his eyes would not mirror hers, but those of Diva's ruby eyes that glowed a florescent blood-red... "If anything else, my father would at least be indebted to you..." However, his Queen rolled her eyes. "You do not believe me?"
Arya lightly chuckled, and shook her head. "I know Denethor, son of Ecthelion longer than you do, o brave Boromir," she told him. "You, you might be a Queen, immortal for life, but you do not have to take my son away from me!" she said, imitating Denethor's voice exactly, causing Boromir to snicker immediately. "Guards, guards, locate the Queen, Diva, or better yet, fetch me a live Orc, I shall kill this Chiropteran-Witch right here!"
"I will never allow my father to do such a thing to you," Boromir said, his seriousness returning. "I shall make him see reason, that I love you, and it is the only way we can be together forever..." However, in his heart, he knew that it was her blood that kept him from dwelling upon the Ring, it was her blood that calmed his soul, that somehow gave him hope.
Boromir, it is not my blood, her voice rang inside his mind, a smug expression on her face. I bet that you didn't know that I could do that too, didn't you? A Queen is linked in more ways to her Knight, and telepathy between the two of us counts for nothing. But, let us return to our topic. "It was your resolve that brought back your sanity, that you really wanted a second chance... Boromir, I thought that I had to kill you, that day at Amon Hen, I really did... But I just... couldn't."
Her words only made him hold her tighter. "I think, I have to be honest with you, Arya. It was my father, who wanted to use the Ring in the first place. When he received the word that Lord Elrond of Rivendell was holding a secret council, he had already come to the conclusion that the Ring had been found. He had told me to retrieve it, that I would not be corrupted by it, but he was wrong... even by the sight of it, my heart was shaken."
He did not have to show her the scene where his father had carried out that instruction to him, Arya already knew what Denethor would have said to his son. "And Faramir would have volunteered himself to go as well," she commented, "but your father doubts him..." She had known Faramir as much as she knew her own Chevalier, and she knew how much his father disliked his younger brother, no matter how hard Faramir had tried to please their father. "He will be a hard man to move, I shudder to think how it will be when Aragorn comes to Minas Tirith..."
"I will make my father see reason, Arya," Boromir said, "He will know that only chaos and destruction awaits if he refuses to give Gondor back to Aragorn, I promise you." Arya nodded, and smiled. "And I promise you, that he will come to terms with what I have become. He has no choice."
Arya was about to protest about that last fact, if not for Boromir's lips crushing against hers. Without a second thought, she melted into the kiss, winding her white arms around his neck as he pushed her back towards the springy grass. If only she had known that she would taste of heaven so much sooner, she would not have dallied about making her feelings true to Boromir, she thought to herself. This was a man she loved dearly and deeply, and she knew, that whether or not he was her Chevalier, he would protect her, even from his own father.
Two days later, Gandalf, Pippin, Arya and Boromir were already crossing to the borders of Gondor. Almost instantly, the landscape had changed, from sprawling grasslands to a magnificent land backed by the White Mountains, where it was green and lush. Within a few more hours, Minas Tirith was already in sight.
Pippin had never seen the White City before, and he was awestruck. Boromir had not been wrong in saying that it was one of the most spectacular sights that one could ever see in Middle Earth. The tower-city was built onto a cliff-face, and it had many levels, its buildings looking as if they were all attached to one another, and it was all white. Even the main door to the city, was a sight to behold, depicting the many tales of the Kings and Stewards that protected this country.
As the company of four traveled towards the Citadel, Boromir and Arya decided that they would enter the city in a less conspicuous fashion, and ran beside Shadowfax, who actually had a hard time keeping up with them, being Chiropterans in the first place. For the denizens of Minas Tirith, it was utterly strange that their Lord Boromir was actually running faster than a horse, just as fast as their beloved Lady Arya. And even by the time they had reached the Citadel that the seventh level, the both of them did not look tired at all.
"I actually used to think that it was impossible to do such a thing," Boromir whispered to Arya just after Pippin applauded them for their efforts. She smiled, and told him that he was a different man already, and that nothing was impossible if he had set his mind to it.
As they walked closer to the doors of the Citadel, Pippin saw that the tree standing there in the courtyard was the tree that he had seen through the Palantir, and told his companions, "Its the tree!"
Gandalf was the one who answered him. "Yes, the White Tree of Gondor, the tree of the King... However, Denethor is not the King, he is the Steward only, the caretaker of the throne." After a short pause, he turned to Arya and Boromir and said, "Now, listen carefully, there is a huge possibility that Denethor does not know that Boromir is already a Rochir, to give him such news would be most unwise..." Then, to Pippin as well, he added, "And do not mention Frodo and the Ring, and say nothing of Aragorn either... In fact, it would be better if you did not speak at all, Peregrin Took."
Arya just patted Pippin on the shoulder and told him that all would be fine, but warned him that not all lords of Men were as kind and hospitable as Theoden King was. Denethor of Gondor was famous for being cunning, cold and hard, and from experience, she knew that he had tolerated her and her sister's presence in Gondor, because they were invaluable allies.
The very moment the doors opened for them, they came into what seemed to be a throne room made entirely out of marble. At the very end of the chamber, was, of course, a throne, situated atop five flights of stairs, and another chair, a black one, where a Man was sitting, looking at each of them with a slight snarl, Boromir, less so, but Arya and Gandalf received much hostility from his glance, and at once Pippin knew the truth of Arya's words.
"Hail, Denethor, son of Ecthelion, Lord and Steward of Gondor," Gandalf greeted. Pippin gave Denethor a small bow, while Arya bent her knees slightly, her palms folded to the right of her body, her eyes turned towards the floor. It was how women in Gondor greeted their superiors, or high nobility, and she was not in the mood to deal with a displeased Steward. "I come with tidings in this dark hour, and with counsel..."
Denethor abruptly interrupted Gandalf by pointing a finger at Arya and asked, "Perhaps you have come to explain why this witch is here before me, next to my son?" He had always disliked the Queens that had been famous protectors of Gondor, but in recent years, his tolerance for Arya Colceredir reached its breaking point, due to their growing romance. He knew that whenever Boromir was in her company, or when she had sent his son a letter, anything, for that matter, he would be aglow with happiness that only a father could perceive. And now, through the Palantir under his possession, he had seen that she had dared to take his humanity away, and make her one of her servants, a being that Elves and Men called a "Knight".
Gandalf was ready to speak for Arya, but she held up her palm, her eyes still fixed upon the floor. "I come to Minas Tirith in genuine hope that I can help defend this city against whatever army Sauron will send, trust me, my lord, you will need my help," she said, her voice unwavering, regal as a Queen could be, although she still kept her head down.
"You blasted witch!" Denethor spat. "Lie to me no longer! I know what have you done to Boromir! You have given him your accursed blood, forcing him to be your eternal slave!" His eyes were filled with burning hatred towards the young Queen, but Arya had already anticipated this. "When you traipsed into this hallowed city, I have received many reports that my son could even overtake a majestic horse in full speed! Why would you do such a thing, what does Gondor owe you? Why do you have to take my son from me?"
Even if Boromir was not Arya's Chevalier, he could not allow his father to pour such abuse upon Arya. She had given more lifetimes of Men to their land, and he knew that no one could repay such a selfless deed to her and Diva, if her sister were present as well. On a personal level, he could never suffer the woman he loved being spoken to and accused by his father in that manner.
Gandalf, however, would not take in much more dalliance from the Steward. Oh, he could see through his theatrics so easily, and he knew that Arya and Boromir had the same idea as well. "There might be a time to grieve for Boromir's fate, but it is not now. Arya has given all her soul to the defense of Gondor, and no one has ever dared to challenge that, as well..." At that, he signaled Arya to rise, and she did as he instructed. "War is coming! As Steward, you are charged with the defense of this city! Where are Gondor's armies?" No response came to him, nothing from Denethor, and he continued to press on. "You still have friends, you are not alone in this fight, send word to Theoden of Rohan... Light the Beacons!"
Denethor refused to do as what Gandalf told. "You think you are wise, Mithrandir, and you, Chiropteran, that you are all-powerful," he said to both Gandalf and Arya. "Do you think the eyes of the White Tower are blind? I have seen more than you know! With your left hands you will use me as a shield against Mordor, and my son, as your secret weapon; and with your right, you will seek to supplant me!" At those words, Arya's eyes widened, she knew where the Steward was going to, and she knew that it would not be pleasant. "I know who rides with Theoden of Rohan, oh yes, word has reached me that this Aragorn, son of Arathorn... And I tell you, I will not bow to this Ranger from the North, last of a ragged line long bereft of Lordship, and to a witch who cares not for the pain of a father!"
Apparently, Gandalf had had enough. "Authority has not been given to you to deny the return of the King, Steward!" he spat, causing Denethor to stand up in rage.
"The rule of Gondor is mine, and no others!"
Angered, Gandalf turned around, while Pippin, Arya and Boromir gave a bow before joining the Wizard. Not even his own son would listen to his rabble this time. "Come," Gandalf said to them. "All has turned to vain ambition, he would even use false grief as a cloak... For two Ages this city has stood, now, it will fall..."
"It will not, Gandalf," Arya reassured, "Boromir and I will not allow that to happen."
Gandalf sighed. "Arya, you are indeed resilient, the Queen of the Earth... Galadriel had named you well. My dear, only you can have such hope, and I can only hope that you are right..."