Disclaimer: This is a work of fan fiction. I do not own any of the character, places, names, or anything associated with the works of J.R.R Tolkien or the Lord of the Rings (books or movie, whatever). My characters are Anita, Leila, and Arlandria and that is all.
Outline- The Green Children
Chapter 56:Outline
The ride over many empty leagues of unchanging territory made the miles feel longer. Anita didn't know what subtle changes in landscape Gandalf saw to determine where they were and what the safest route to travel was, but the white wizard never faltered as they charged forward on the horses with all haste. The trio traveled by daylight through the first day, but as the dark of night fell, the border between Rohan and Gondor fast approached. It was made clear by the white wizard that once they crossed into the realm of Gondor that they would no longer travel while the sun was up- too many enemy eyes watching. That decision having been made, the last two days of their journey was accomplished at night. This suited Anita either way, since it wasn't like she had been keeping to a normal sleep schedule anyway; Gandalf too stayed on an Elven sleeping regiment, which was to say he slept rarely. The only person really affected by the change was Pippin, and it was apparent to his travelling companions how he suffered for it. No one was happier to hear Gandalf say that they were approaching their destination more than the Hobbit was.
However, no sooner had Gandalf called out that they were fast approaching the final stretch- a short sprint across the fields of Pelennor – than Anita's sharp eyes noticed something in the early morning fog. "Mithrandir," She called above the pounding of the hooves, "there are men up ahead, I count the light of twenty torches, and at least as many dark figures."
The wizard next to her didn't appear to be concerned or even surprised by the information. "They are rebuilding Rammas Echor, the wall of Pelennor Fields," He called back to her. The two steeds slowed as they neared the group of men. Just as Gandalf had predicted, they were mostly masons and bricklayers of the group hastily constructing a low wall along the perimeter of the field. Of the group perhaps half a dozen were armed soldiers that stood in all the livery of the White City, watching the surrounding area for any sign of trouble. It was one such soldier now that stepped forward as they halted their progress.
"I am Ingold, I am in command of this detail. State your name please and your business before you allowed to cross beyond the wall to Minas Tirith." This middle-aged soldier didn't strike Ani as being particularly confident in his command, since he faltered a few times in his little speech, and that struck the girl as odd.
"The early morning light must be failing your eyes captain," Gandalf proclaimed boldly, " for you to not recognize the White Rider; I have been a familiar traveler in these lands for many years, even when you knew me as Gandalf the Grey."
Ingold shuffled his feet uncomfortably. "Yes truly, we know you, Mithrandir. You know the pass-words of the Seven Gates and are free to go forward. But we know not of your companions, we wish for no strangers in this land during this time, such evil times as they are." The soldier's hazel eyes flickered briefly in Anita's direction before settling on the Hobbit that shared a saddle with the Wizard.
The older man bristled at being continually questioned by a captain who, so obviously, hadn't been in this leadership position for any length of time. "I will vouch for their valor in front of Denethor."
"You will vouch for them now, or you will be prevented from entering the city." Ingold puffed his chest up a bit, a sadly failed attempt to make himself seem bolder and more intimidating than he was. It was clear that Gandalf was quickly losing his patience wasting precious time in this discussion, and Ani was right there with him. With a resigned sigh the elleth decided that enough time had been spent with this Ingold.
"Does your unwavering insolence know no bounds? Take care of how you address the White Wizard, sir." Anita's voice rang out strong and authoritative, drawing surprised looks from all those around her including her own traveling companions. "Since you ask my identity I will tell you, I am a messenger sent from Rivendell with urgent news for Lord Denethor, who is anxiously waiting my arrival. Shall I tell him who it is that delays my progress, Ingold?" The fidgety guard took a step back to scrutinize the girl as she snapped at him. Not breaking her gaze, Anita turned her head only slightly so that the tip of her pointed ear would be more prominently visible to him. Her travel weary appearance only offered credence to her story, and the mousey captain studied her for only the length of a breath before he nodded his head.
"Of course my lady. If Lord Denethor awaits your arrival then you will face no further delay here." The soldier stepped back , unblocking the path through the low stone wall that had halted their progress. Gandalf politely thanked the guards before urging Shadowfax forward through the narrow gap between the stones, Anita right behind him. They had only made it a short distance beyond where the soldiers were patrolling the perimeter of the wall that had been swiftly thrown together before the elleth dissolved into giggles, drawing another questioning glance from her travelling companions. Ani clamped one hand over her mouth to stifle her laugh, controlling both reins with her other hand, until she had a hold of herself.
" May I ask what that was about?" Gandalf inquired, casting a glance over his shoulder to indicate the encounter she had just had with Ingold.
"A few months before the big Council you all had in Rivendell about the Ring, my grandfather was sending regular correspondences back and forth to Gondor- you know to check on if Mordor were still dormant; well one day a particularly snotty messenger of the Steward's gave me almost that exact same little speech while I was out patrolling with Glo. Never thought I would get the chance to throw it back in their faces."
Gandalf merely shook his head in response as a quieter voice could be heard coming half hidden underneath the wizard's massive cloak. "Gandalf? What were they doing?" Pippin sleepily voiced the very question that had been lingering in Anita's mind too as soon as she had seen the workers painstakingly rebuilding the wall stone by stone.
"They are preparing for war." The wizard replied simply. Ani was barely able to see the Hobbit where he sat around the folds of fabric, but managed to catch his eye all the same, a similar follow-up question forming on their lips.
"The threat lies to east…to Mordor, not back the way we came." Ani left the question unsaid, only hinted at. The White Wizard shot her a pointed glare but didn't answer her. "Oh…they don't think Rohan is coming, do they? We should probably tell them…so they don't block off the only chance they have of help coming. Right?"
Gandalf sighed, "They cannot trust their fate to Theoden and his Riders. They can only look to themselves now." And with that ominous comment, the White Rider spurred his stallion into a canter, flying across the plains towards the white city at great speed, Ani following along behind him. The sun had finally come high enough to shed light on Minas Tirith, and the dark haired elleth was genuinely awestruck by the great city of Men. Unlike many of the towns and villages that were scattered throughout Middle Earth, this was an actual city even by Anita's standards. White stone glinted in the early morning sun showcasing the layout of the city as it spiraled up a mountain towards heaven. The girl's discerning eye could see modest housing built vertically into the walls, built atop each other in a townhome-esque fashion, even built into the stone of the mountain which made up the core which the city was built upon. A series of horns and shouts heralded the arrival at the massive and ornately decorated double doors which gates the entrance to the city.
By forces unseen, though Anita could hear the hidden pulley system straining under the weight, the door creaked open to reveal the bustling lowest level of the city. The narrow roads, which gently spiraled up in a great arch to the next level, were neatly and even 'paved' with large flat stones. Along the sides of the streets people could be seen hustling about to quaint shops, haggling with streets vendors, and children running around unattended while their parents completed errands. Anita unintentionally sucked in a sharp breath as she was assaulted by all the familiar sights and sounds that caused a home-sick feeling to well up inside her chest. Other than the lack of cars, the sights and sounds were eerily familiar to annual food and culture festival that Tucson held near the downtown library. Thinking of the library conjured up the memory of Sauron's threat to raze Tucson through fire and brimstone. The girl straightened up and turned her focus away from the cityscape and onto following Gandalf through the maze of streets and up through the other gates they needed to pass, there would be time for nostalgia later when the threat was gone.
Gandalf took no notice of the throng of people as they flowed back and forth across the path like the ebb and flow of the tide, the wizard slowly encouraged Shadowfax forward through the city. As they pushed along the path, the mass of city-dwellers in front of them would part to allow for passage by horse and rider amid curious gazes and whispers. Many recognized Gandalf, but Anita could hear the word "elf" swarming around her in hushed tones more often than she heard her travelling companion's name. It seemed she was doomed to be seen as a novelty to matter where she found herself. The girl was thankful that with each new level of the city they entered, the fewer people who were out on the street to gawk and stare at them as they passed. Gandalf led them up the main road as it curved around the mountain, stopping at each new level's gate to exchange words with the guards, which made the going very slow. One thing became apparent after the second gate, the city of Minas Tirith was on high alert; this worried Anita, not for herself and not even for the people confined within this monolithic city made of stone, but for those stuck outside the protection of the gates. People like Aragorn and Legolas who would be riding to the city very soon.
At the sixth level where the guards of the city and the Citadel were trained and housed, the wizard and the elleth were forced to dismount their horses and leave them in the care of the soldier's stable. Patting Firefoot's neck as she handed the reins over to an unknown guard, the girl gave the man a look she hoped carried enough of a silent threat for him to treat her horse with extra care. Having passed the final gate to enter the highest level, The Citadel, the three companions walked together across the open courtyard which was surrounded by several buildings, all of which were guarded by soldiers in elaborately decorated – and Anita was sure near useless- armor. In the center of the courtyard was a small patch of well-tended grass with benches, a fountain through which no water flowed, and a white tree which looked very dead to the elleth. It was the tree that caught Pippin's attention, and the Hobbit stumbled and stopped momentarily as he laid eyes on it.
"It's the tree." He mumbled vaguely before trying to get Gandalf's attention.
"Yes, the White Tree of Gondor," The wizard replied as if already bored with the subject. " The tree of the king. Lord Denethor however is not king. He is a steward only, a caretaker of the throne." Gandalf stopped as they reached the steps to the Tower building, turning so that he could face both Pippin and Anita fully, though his piercing gaze was aimed at Pippin only. "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….in fact, it's better if you do not speak at all Peregrin Took." Anita bit back a laugh at the deflated look on the Hobbit's face, it didn't however save her from the wizard's hard look at it switched to her. "That goes double for you Anita, Lady of Rivendell."
"Me?" The elleth yipped indignantly, "What the hell did I do?"
"Every time you open your mouth to address someone you manage to violate social protocol in a new and egregious way and I am left with an ache in my head. Suffice to say that those in Minas Tirith have a very specific idea of how a lady should carry herself and speak, and I have little faith that you will be able to do either. You are an observer only, do you understand?"
With a dramatic roll of her eyes the girl grumbled out a "fine" before making a big show of pantomiming zipping her lips shut. With a final nod at them, Gandalf knocked on the heavy black doors of the hall. Again Ani could hear the creak and whirr of a system of hidden pulleys being activated as the doors slowly opened inward to reveal the inner sanctum. As the trio entered the pristine hall of white and black stone, the only sound that could be heard were their footsteps as they walked to the throne at the opposite end of the hall. It was a very eerie effect.
Denethor sat on a carved black chair, which was on a low dais well below the high throne of the king. His aging form was hunched over something he glowered at in his lap. Even from the other side of the room Ani could clearly see the deep lines and wrinkles of his face, no doubt put there by the stress of events in recent months.
"Hail Denethor, son of Ecthelion," Gandalf heralded as the group approached the dais, "lord and steward of Gondor." Denethor didn't even bother to look up from the object he held when the wizard addressed him. But now they could all clearly see what it was the Steward was holding – a horn. Anita cocked her head to one side as she studied the modestly decorated horn, knowing she had seen it before but unable to pinpoint where she knew it from. Unnerved by the lack of response he was getting, Gandalf addressed the man again. "I come with tidings in this dark hour, and with counsel."
"Perhaps you come to explain this?" Denethor asked, and Ani assumed the raspy nature of his voice was due to recently crying, based on the red rim of his eyes when he finally looked up at them. He held up the horn so all could see it was cracked in twain down the middle, "Perhaps you come to tell me why my son is dead."
The elleth groaned quietly to herself. Boromir. That's where she had seen the horn before, with Boromir. Anita cast her eyes downward to the cold tiled floor, afraid the steward would be able to see the low opinion she held for his late son written in them. An awful silence passed over the group, intensified by the already heavy silence that had lingered in the hall before their arrival.
Pippin's was the voice that finally shattered the bubble of oppressive stillness surrounding them. "Boromir died to save us, my kinsman and me." Overtaken by a spontaneous wave of boldness, the Hobbit stepped forward and dropped to one knee in front of Denethor's throne despite Gandalf's quiet protest. "He fell defending us from many foes. I offer you my service, such as it is, in payment of this debt." Anita raised her eyes just enough to look up at Denethor through her lashes , waiting for his reaction to this offer. But it didn't come before the sound of Gandalf's staff smack the hobbit in the side as the wizard hissed at him to get up off the floor.
"My lord," Gandalf said, trying his hardest to suppress his impatience, "there will be 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 defense of this city. Where are Gondor's armies?" When Denethor didn't answer right way, Gandalf kept pressing, "you still have friends. You are not alone in this fight. Send word of Theoden of Rohan. Light the beacons. "
A sneer appeared on Denethor's face when he chose to respond, mockery evident in his voice. "You think you are wise, Mithrandir. Yet for all your 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'd seek to supplant me. I know who rides with Theoden 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 the Ranger from the North; last of a ragged house long bereft of lordship. "
"Authority is not given to you to deny the return of the king, steward." Gandalf laid heavy emphasis on the last word, Causing Denethor stand erect out of his seat and glare down at the trio.
"The rule of Gondor is mine and no other's." He hissed vehemently. Gandalf and Denethor scowled at each other for a drawn out and awkward moment before the white wizard broke his gaze away.
"We will take our leave." Gandalf stated with none of the grandiose manners he had shown when they entered the hall. Anita let out a small breath as she turned to follow Gandalf and get out of the tense situation.
"You may stay." Denethor's voice stopped the trio in their tracks before they had made it very far, each of them turning slightly to see who it was the steward addressed. His hand was outstretched towards Anita with an expectant look on his face. "Milady?"
The elleth pulled a strained smile across her face but didn't move from her spot next to the Hobbit and wizard. "Don't leave me with him." She whispered as quietly as could while not moving her lips from the forced grin she still wore.
Gandalf gave a slight bow of his head, "We will wait for you outside the hall." The girl's eyes widened in alarm as she realized that her two companions did in fact mean to leave her stuck alone with Denethor. She remained locked in her spot as she watched Pip and Gandalf disappear through the large doors at the end of the hall, dread growing in the pit of her stomach as the unnerving quiet of the hall fell around her again. Forcing herself to swallow the lump in her throat, the elleth calmly stepped up to the dais where Denethor had reclaimed his seat.
"It has been many years since an Elf has graced these halls, " Denethor started, plastering a charming smile on his face, " please tell me of yourself and how you came to be here."
Shit. Ani had to think fast; she couldn't outright lie to the steward's face, but telling him the truth of her origins and lineage was sure to make things sticky too. Clearing her throat to buy some extra time, the elleth's mind raced to find an answer. " I am from Rivendell, a lowly perimeter guard of no rank. I have travelled here to offer my help in defending your city from the threat of Mordor." It was a fairly close approximation of the truth, if not an incredibly vague one.
"Tell me, lowly perimeter guard of no rank from Rivendell, what do they call you?"
Ani pulled the already strained smile on her face a little bigger and brighter, "Those that know me well call me Ani, those that know me not at all have no name for me."
Denethor chuckled quietly at her forced attempt at humor, the joke was enough to draw his attention away from the fact that she hadn't in fact given him a proper name to call her by. "Well, Ani of Rivendell, let me welcome you to the White city of Minas Tirith. Now then, are there more of your kindred following along in your path, or has Lord Elrond sent you here as a mocking answer of my request for help?"
Anita knew very well that no answer at all would be coming from her grandfather, much less one offering soldiers to help. In the course of her lessons under Elrond's tutelage in the months leading up to her escape from the Valley of Imladris, one sentiment had been made perfectly clear to her; humans messed this up, humans would clean it up. Her grandfather had impressed on her time and time again how easily all this could have been avoided if Isildur had thrown the blasted Ring in the fires of Mount Doom the first time. But because men were weak, because men were easily seduced by the desire for power, the world was once again fighting a deadly battle against Sauron; and Elrond would not fight it a second time because men had shown weakness. Her grandfather would rather abandon their homes and land and lead all Elves to the ships that would take them across the sea sooner than he would get re involved in a fight over the Ring. Anita knew this, but she also knew how foolish it would be to express such a sentiment to the Steward of Gondor.
Licking her lips before she answered, the elleth carefully thought out and chose each word of her reply. " I bring no message from Lord Elrond, and I do not speak for the rest of my people. I have come here of my own volition to fight side by side with your army to fend off the threat to the East."
Denethor studied her intently for a long moment, taking in the hauberk and chest plate she wore, as well as the plethora of blades she carried both on her belt and across her back, Anita quickly becoming uncomfortable under his gaze. "I fail to see how one lone elven soldier, and a female one at that, will be much help in our fight. I fear the only help you have to offer would be to bear sons that will rebuild this city when the war is done and the dust has settled."
The fake smiled stretched across her face faltered when she heard the steward's answer, a righteous anger flaring up inside her at his sexist remark. A million snarky one-liners swirled around in her head, crackling with desire to burst forth from her lips and scald him with condescending sarcasm. Clenching her fists at her side and steadying the smile- which by this point surely looked downright maniacal- the elleth calmed herself before calmly replying, "I will leave it up to your discretion how I may best serve this city." She didn't wait for a dismissal, Anita gave a slight bow of her head before spinning on her heels and stalking to the door, feeling Denethor's eyes watch her every step she took.