Chapter Fifty-Three

:: I observed the items laid out on the table in front of me. A long sword, leather gloves and black, velvet garment, with a white tree on the chest. I held the sword, examining' it. "So I imagine, this is just a ceremonial position, I mean they don't actually expect me to fight...do they?" I was hopin' not.

Gandalf was on the balcony, facin' Mordor. "You're in the service of the Steward now, you're going to do as your told. Peregrin Took, guard of the Citadel." He sighed.

I walked out to lean next to Gandalf. His arms were restin' on the railin', but my head barely reached the top. The air was still and calm. "It's so quiet."

"It's the deep reach before the plunge,"

"I don't want to be in a battle. But just waitin' on the he edge of one I can't escape is even worse," he wasn't answerin' me. I saw the lights comin' off from Mordor and I thought of Frodo. It had been a long time since my mind, wondered to my older cousin. Or Sam for that matter. I turned up to Gandalf. "Is there any hope, Gandalf? For Frodo and Sam?"

He took a puff of his pipe before answerin' me. "There never was much hope." He finally looked at me and smiled. "Only a fool's hope."

I knew he was speakin' of me. If one little hobbit could have hope for his cousin, they why couldn't that cousin achieve his goal to save the world?

"Our enemy is ready, his full strength has gathered. Not only Orcs, but men as well, legions of Haradrim from the South." I felt my stomach turn. "Mercenaries from the Coast, all will answer to Mordor's call. This will be the end of Gondor as we know it. Here the hammerstroke will fall hardest."

"How?"

"If the river is taken," he continued. "If the garriosn in Osgillath falls, the last defense of the city will be gone."

"But we've got the White Wizard," I smiled. "That's got to count for somethin'."

He wasn't takin' my praise as comfort. My smile faded. "Gandalf?"

"Sauron is yet to reveal his deadliest servant, the one who will lead Mordor's armies to war, the one they say no living man can kill. The Witch-king of Angmar, you've met him before."

"I have?"

"He stabbed Frodo on Weathertop. He is the lord of the Nazgûl, the greatest of the Nine and Minas Morgul is his lair,"

Suddenly a large flash of green light, shot from the ground to the sky from Mordor. The castle shook and I looked up at Gandalf. He put his arm around me, bringin' me closer. "We come to it at last, the great battle of our time. The board is set, the piece are moving." He stared out into the darkness. "Come, Pippin, get some sleep." He forced a weak smile and ushered me to the room.

I crawled into my bed (and it was a real bed) and pulled the blankets around my body. I missed Merry. ::