All alone Chapter 2
By Rose G
Disclaimer: None of these are mine - they all belong to Tolkien. Don't even think of sueing me though, because I'm broke. BTW, this is my first ever bit of fanfic, so please be nice about, else I won't do chapter 3. R/r as always.
Aragorn looked up blankly at Gandalf, as though in a waking dream. 'Gandalf...' His voice was hoarse, choking back tears, yet for a moment, Frodo saw the King Elessar: a great monarch at the height of his powers that he would never now reach. Then the vision was gone, departed on the wind, and Strider appeared once more as a battle scarred ranger, blood stained, eyes ringed with red and raven dark hair streaked with grey.
'Sorry, Aragorn.' The wizard laid an affectionate hand on Strider's shoulder and moved so that he shielded the Dunedain from the hobbits view. 'I, Gandalf the White, did foresee this evil approach, yet I knew nothing could have altered it if all Middle Earth had joined together, Orcs, Goblins, Wargs and all. Therefore, it seemed cruel to tell you about what was going to happen, which could not be prevented. You could do no more than what you did, and that seems to have been much. Rest now a little, for you are safe and things may seem less black in the clear light of morning, if indeed morning ever comes again, for Mordor is rising even as the day wanes. War comes, but we must rest. Stay here for a night.'
Briskly, Gandalf lead Aragorn away, into a side room. The tall Ranger forgot to duck his head, and swore bitterly at the pain. He mumbled something at Frodo about the height of the roof and the incompetence of hobbit builders. The three hobbits, Sam, Rosie and Frodo waited for what seemed an eternity until Aragorn's harsh breathing slowed into that of sleep, and Gandalf emerged, the white fire that always seemed to flicker from him somehow dimmed.
Without haste, the wizard looked around and a half smile crossed his worn face. Almost immediately, there was a knock on the door, followed by the entrance of two large hobbits clad in bright mail and unusually serious faces. They showed no surprise at meeting Gandalf, and less at hearing the news about Aragorn.
Bewildered, Frodo glanced from them to Gandalf, then in the direction of Aragorn's room. 'What is going on, Gandalf? What is wrong with Aragorn, and why do you speak of Mordor rising again? Sauron is gone, we saw him fall, and I believe that he died. And few now in Middle Earth, save you and Aragorn, have the power to raise anew a dead kingdom.'
'Yes Frodo, but what if the raiser of the kingdom is one who has already overcame death? What obstacle would that then be to him? And he has the memory of the ring to help him, for he coveted that ring, and I felt this would happen if he ever got his thieving hands on it, for he is more treacherous than Gollum.'
Frodo interrupted. 'But who is he, and what has happened to Aragorn?'
'I will not speak his name here, Frodo, for you do not wish to hear it. As for Aragorn, he was at the brink of death ere he arrived, and my hands are not those of a healer. No healer with the necessary skill resides now in Middle Earth, save for Aragorn alone. I believe his days are numbered, and that he is aware of that. And an end is come for the line of Kings from over Sea. He has sired no heirs, and Arwen has left. King Elessar is no more, for he has left while Minas Tirith burns unchecked and Gondor lies torn asunder. No longer will Rohan and Dol Amroth ride to his aid, for war marches swiftly and engages all their strength.'
Sam was weeping now, even as Merry and Pippin's cheerful faces sobered instantly. War was something they had left long behind them, and now it came knocking on the door. And Gandalf was automatically back in his old position of leader. 'What is wrong with Strider, Gandalf, and why does he cry so?'
'Much, Merry, that will not heal ere many long ages of this world, if ever. Grief such as he has never known, even allowing for what he suffered at Halbarad's passing. Defeat in a battle of which he had no warning, which ill becomes such a leader of men, and near mortal wounds sustained because he attempted to fight on when all was lost, so his men would have a chance to escape. And if Valar is merciful, he will not live to hear of the final fall of Minas Tirith which is unavoidable, and maybe the least of all the evils that will occur.'
'Gandalf!' The lilting tone was familiar to them all - the sweet fair voice, echo of a golden time, far back when the world was young, and Mordor just another country. Legolas was there on the doorstep, fair hair lank with sweat, blue eyes worried and pained. Gimli skulked behind him, brown beard jutting at an angle as he glared at the architecture.
'My dear Gimli, now is not the time to be disparaging about hobbit stonework. Poor Frodo has already endured Aragorn's comments on this.' Gandalf spoke quietly, and the great grey horse standing beside Legolas called and tossed his noble head.
'Yes, Gandalf, it was your Shadowfax who carried me, first to Gimli and then here. He seemed to sense war on the wind, and such an animal is not to be argued with. I did not believe that he would suffer me to sit him, but he did and bore us here. Never have I sat such an animal, for we raced the wind of battle and won. Now I find that he raced once again on the wings of a storm.'
Gandalf spoke gently to the beast, then to Legolas. 'Turn him free, he will come when I need him'. He led them inside again, into the sitting room that had been Bilbo's, and began to talk. Years ago, Bilbo had set off on his journey after just such a talk. Everything was as it had been, and only time had changed. But time changes lives as well, ending some, starting others...
'Arwen has departed hurriedly over Sea, with the two sons of Elrond. I think that Aragorn commanded her, for he has the foresight of his race, and knows that much is ending. He would not wish her to suffer, but by observing his wishes, she has broken his heart. He grieves for her, and his wounds do not heal. Yet I sense another girl waits to speak to him, a girl who may hold the fate of Middle Earth in her unknowing hands.'
'Now sleep, for we ride to war ere break of day as evil has risen again. And Shadowfax shall bear Aragorn into battle and to victory, for his days are waning and my wish is that they end in the glory for which he longed.'
Well - I've done this chapter, which I never thought I would. Sorry for the Aragorn bashing, but you always hurt the one you love. Can you guess who the Dark Lord is yet? All the clues are in there. Put any guesses in reviews, please. Let me know if anyone wants chap. 3
By Rose G
Disclaimer: None of these are mine - they all belong to Tolkien. Don't even think of sueing me though, because I'm broke. BTW, this is my first ever bit of fanfic, so please be nice about, else I won't do chapter 3. R/r as always.
Aragorn looked up blankly at Gandalf, as though in a waking dream. 'Gandalf...' His voice was hoarse, choking back tears, yet for a moment, Frodo saw the King Elessar: a great monarch at the height of his powers that he would never now reach. Then the vision was gone, departed on the wind, and Strider appeared once more as a battle scarred ranger, blood stained, eyes ringed with red and raven dark hair streaked with grey.
'Sorry, Aragorn.' The wizard laid an affectionate hand on Strider's shoulder and moved so that he shielded the Dunedain from the hobbits view. 'I, Gandalf the White, did foresee this evil approach, yet I knew nothing could have altered it if all Middle Earth had joined together, Orcs, Goblins, Wargs and all. Therefore, it seemed cruel to tell you about what was going to happen, which could not be prevented. You could do no more than what you did, and that seems to have been much. Rest now a little, for you are safe and things may seem less black in the clear light of morning, if indeed morning ever comes again, for Mordor is rising even as the day wanes. War comes, but we must rest. Stay here for a night.'
Briskly, Gandalf lead Aragorn away, into a side room. The tall Ranger forgot to duck his head, and swore bitterly at the pain. He mumbled something at Frodo about the height of the roof and the incompetence of hobbit builders. The three hobbits, Sam, Rosie and Frodo waited for what seemed an eternity until Aragorn's harsh breathing slowed into that of sleep, and Gandalf emerged, the white fire that always seemed to flicker from him somehow dimmed.
Without haste, the wizard looked around and a half smile crossed his worn face. Almost immediately, there was a knock on the door, followed by the entrance of two large hobbits clad in bright mail and unusually serious faces. They showed no surprise at meeting Gandalf, and less at hearing the news about Aragorn.
Bewildered, Frodo glanced from them to Gandalf, then in the direction of Aragorn's room. 'What is going on, Gandalf? What is wrong with Aragorn, and why do you speak of Mordor rising again? Sauron is gone, we saw him fall, and I believe that he died. And few now in Middle Earth, save you and Aragorn, have the power to raise anew a dead kingdom.'
'Yes Frodo, but what if the raiser of the kingdom is one who has already overcame death? What obstacle would that then be to him? And he has the memory of the ring to help him, for he coveted that ring, and I felt this would happen if he ever got his thieving hands on it, for he is more treacherous than Gollum.'
Frodo interrupted. 'But who is he, and what has happened to Aragorn?'
'I will not speak his name here, Frodo, for you do not wish to hear it. As for Aragorn, he was at the brink of death ere he arrived, and my hands are not those of a healer. No healer with the necessary skill resides now in Middle Earth, save for Aragorn alone. I believe his days are numbered, and that he is aware of that. And an end is come for the line of Kings from over Sea. He has sired no heirs, and Arwen has left. King Elessar is no more, for he has left while Minas Tirith burns unchecked and Gondor lies torn asunder. No longer will Rohan and Dol Amroth ride to his aid, for war marches swiftly and engages all their strength.'
Sam was weeping now, even as Merry and Pippin's cheerful faces sobered instantly. War was something they had left long behind them, and now it came knocking on the door. And Gandalf was automatically back in his old position of leader. 'What is wrong with Strider, Gandalf, and why does he cry so?'
'Much, Merry, that will not heal ere many long ages of this world, if ever. Grief such as he has never known, even allowing for what he suffered at Halbarad's passing. Defeat in a battle of which he had no warning, which ill becomes such a leader of men, and near mortal wounds sustained because he attempted to fight on when all was lost, so his men would have a chance to escape. And if Valar is merciful, he will not live to hear of the final fall of Minas Tirith which is unavoidable, and maybe the least of all the evils that will occur.'
'Gandalf!' The lilting tone was familiar to them all - the sweet fair voice, echo of a golden time, far back when the world was young, and Mordor just another country. Legolas was there on the doorstep, fair hair lank with sweat, blue eyes worried and pained. Gimli skulked behind him, brown beard jutting at an angle as he glared at the architecture.
'My dear Gimli, now is not the time to be disparaging about hobbit stonework. Poor Frodo has already endured Aragorn's comments on this.' Gandalf spoke quietly, and the great grey horse standing beside Legolas called and tossed his noble head.
'Yes, Gandalf, it was your Shadowfax who carried me, first to Gimli and then here. He seemed to sense war on the wind, and such an animal is not to be argued with. I did not believe that he would suffer me to sit him, but he did and bore us here. Never have I sat such an animal, for we raced the wind of battle and won. Now I find that he raced once again on the wings of a storm.'
Gandalf spoke gently to the beast, then to Legolas. 'Turn him free, he will come when I need him'. He led them inside again, into the sitting room that had been Bilbo's, and began to talk. Years ago, Bilbo had set off on his journey after just such a talk. Everything was as it had been, and only time had changed. But time changes lives as well, ending some, starting others...
'Arwen has departed hurriedly over Sea, with the two sons of Elrond. I think that Aragorn commanded her, for he has the foresight of his race, and knows that much is ending. He would not wish her to suffer, but by observing his wishes, she has broken his heart. He grieves for her, and his wounds do not heal. Yet I sense another girl waits to speak to him, a girl who may hold the fate of Middle Earth in her unknowing hands.'
'Now sleep, for we ride to war ere break of day as evil has risen again. And Shadowfax shall bear Aragorn into battle and to victory, for his days are waning and my wish is that they end in the glory for which he longed.'
Well - I've done this chapter, which I never thought I would. Sorry for the Aragorn bashing, but you always hurt the one you love. Can you guess who the Dark Lord is yet? All the clues are in there. Put any guesses in reviews, please. Let me know if anyone wants chap. 3
