A/N: So, there's chapter 10 up. Forget the writer's block I wrote about last time, things only seem to get better and better. This one's just a shorter chapter, but I finally know how to go on. Read and enjoy, and wait for chapter 11 coming this week! (Hopefully!)

Disclaimer: I own nothing! (Just to shorten things *g*)

Helmets split, mail bloodstained

With these words the Elf took some steps away from his comrades and made his way over to a small spot in the wall where one could look across the lands. The grassy Pelennor Fields, only interrupted by the old road upon which the Men of Minas Tirith once could reach Osgiliath ere this city had been taken by the Enemy, were stretching in front of his eyes until they suddenly came to their end at the banks of the Anduin. The river there sharply bent southward and continued its journey down to the Bay of Belfalas where its mouths finally reached the Sea. Its water was shimmering silver in the bright sun, and when Legolas was straining his ears, he even could hear its soft roaring. To his right the tall Mindolluin rose into the sky, its peak and rocks below already covered with the white glint of snow, mist arose in the west and dark clouds were forming there. They were gathering low above the ground and Legolas guessed that they brought great amounts of snow with them.

'Winter has finally come,' he mused, 'had it been some years ago, I indeed would have expected its beginning later so far in the south, but the eastern shadow has covered all the lands and although the clouds are not coming from Mordor, the Black Breath has sent out its poison all across Middle-earth. Nothing remains unscathed and the fair is disappearing. Once even the Nameless Land must have been a country where trees were growing and everything blossomed. But with the appearance of the Enemy the shadow spread and everything that once had been beautiful has been covered as if winter had laid a blanket of snow above it. Even in Ithilien, once entirely fair and delightful, the changes can already be seen, yet the Unnamed does not have conquered it wholly. But the trees are dead and no flower sends its lovely smell into the air. Water has become undrinkable and all animals have disappeared. Whether they died or escaped, I do not know.'

Slowly, not willing consciously but as if drawn by an invisible force, the Elf then turned his head to the east. Darkness was lying above the mountains which were only even darker shadows against the black sky. Night was still hours away but in Mordor it was eternal. No light could send life into this everlasting shadow, and the only thing that hindered the darkness from total victory, were the fires of Mount Doom lashing into the sky and coloring it with a dreadful red, seeming to come right out of Hell.

The Enemy had turned the whole country into a barren wasteland where no one who had been born under the sun, could survive. Only Orcs and some even worse creatures were able to draw a breath there, but even for them the air often was too laden with the foul smell of the Unnamed and if they had not been utterly frightened, in some the wish to escape would have emerged.

With a great effort of willpower, Legolas withdrew his eyes from this sight and at once a heavy burden that seemed to have lain on his chest, disappeared and breathing became easier again. Never had he noticed the struggle it had caused while looking into the Dark Land and only now he felt the difference and was relieved. The shadow had released him and he had returned to the land of the living, at least it appeared so to the Elf.

Wearily Legolas turned back to his friends again. They had stayed at the road, not wanting to disturb their comrade's thoughts. A strained expression was on his face now as he was walking towards them.

"Come," he then merely said. "I want to sit down for a minute or two. I am exhausted beyond belief."

Not waiting for a reply, the Elf crossed a wide lawn on the right side of the street and placed himself an a huge stone, facing the road, but with closed eyes. The two Hobbits exchanged anxious glances. Never before had they seen their friend in such a state. Ever had he been a strong warrior, able to walk on for hours, and when the others had fallen asleep for long, he had not even been tired.

Merry and Pippin sat down on the lawn in front of the Elf while Gimli remained standing next to his friend. He also was worried about Legolas who had always teased him with never becoming weary and exhausted.

For quite a while the four companions kept sitting there, saying nothing and not even stirring. An uncomfortable chilliness crept up their limbs, and their feet were slowly feeling numb.

Afternoon was turning into late afternoon and the sun was making its way across the sky. Already it seemed to touch the peak of Mount Mindolluin, coloring the white snow with a beautiful golden shimmer, when suddenly a harsh, fearful cry disturbed the silence and each was ripped out of their thoughts.

"Open the gates! Quick! Quick!"

Legolas immediately leaped to his feet and ran towards the wall once more. A male voice, with terror lying underneath, had yelled these words and they had seemed to come from outside the uttermost circle. At once great turmoil arose in the city and many men were streaming towards the gates to look for the source of that cry.

Across the Pelennor Fields about thirty riders were rushing towards the city, their swords drawn but they did not look ready for fight. Instead they appeared to flee from a dreadful pursuer. Most of the men had lost their shields, helmets were split and their mail was bloodstained, seemingly the last remainders of a skirmish that must have been cruel and many warriors would not return from it anymore. The Gondorians were not a people who ran away at the first sight of the enemy, no, they were experienced combatants who had been trained to defend themselves.

Only the hindmost of the riders seemed to be relatively unhurt and he looked less weary than the others. Yet he did not appear that he had not taken part in the fight, instead he seemed to be their leader: Proud was his face, though it showed deep concern now, and his eyes were of a shining gray. No helmet was on his head, the black hair streaming with the wind and he held himself upright, looking straightly forward towards Minas Tirith and its protecting walls.

Within some minutes the riders had reached the opened gates and immediately disappeared beyond the firm walls, vanishing from Legolas' angle of view.

'Was that Faramir?' he silently questioned himself. 'I remember, Lord Denethor said that he had been sent out with some men to defend the bridges and to disturb the Orcs in Ithilien. Alas, if he indeed has come back, fate has turned out evil. They did not appear victorious, and I do not think that they had fled with such terror, if they had been successful. Gandalf will know more about it when he returns from the steward. I truly have to speak to him!'

With a wry smile, Legolas went back to his comrades who had again been waiting at the road. They had not dared to come with him, for a crowd of Men had gathered around the Elf and, small as they were, they had feared to get choked.

"I suppose that this was Faramir, the one Gandalf told us so much about," Legolas said. "This time, though, he appeared to have failed. Few men were with him and all seemed to have survived only barely. Were it not Denethor's words that his son was to defend the bridges across the Anduin?"

Gimli nodded slowly. "Yes, the steward said so. Boromir was sent to Rivendell and Faramir should go to Osgiliath to hinder the Orcs from coming westward."

"Alas," Legolas murmured. "Indeed I had wished that I had misunderstood the Lord. Well, now the bridges must have fallen, the Orcs must have conquered them and many people seemed to have been slain. Never would a sensible man take only thirty men with him on such an important errand! Doom is coming to Gondor and in my reckoning, it will not turn out well! Nevertheless we should try to get some rest. By tomorrow, I guess, there will be great hosts gathering in front of the walls and every sword, bow or axe will be needed. Come with me!"

Slowly the Dwarf and the two Hobbits followed their Elvish friend. Merry and Pippin felt chilly and shivers ran down their spines. Thinking of a great army of Orcs attacking the city had made their blood run cold. Although they had had time to adjust to the thought that they soon would be involved in battle, now, as it was close at hand, an uncomfortable feeling had crept into their hearts and their self-confidence had dwindled.

'Bilbo,' Pippin pondered, 'I'll never see you again and you'll never get to hear what fate we have encountered. We promised you to come back and to tell you everything that we had come across, but now we'll die defending a city which we had not even known when leaving you! Frodo and Sam are in Mordor, maybe they're also dead by now! Who knows? What would I give to be in the Shire now, I wouldn't even mind cleaning the kitchen after a huge feast!'

Merry´s expression was grim and he gripped the hilt of his sword. In his heart the same doubts had awakened and he could not bring himself to think of what was to come. He felt ashamed at this sudden fear. 'I haven't hesitated at Amon Hen where such a lot of Orcs attacked us, and we were far less than we are now. Only Legolas and Gimli, Pippin and I. Not a single one of these tall Men so experienced with arms and battle. They've ever lived in sight of the shadow and I, who saw it once, am despairing! My father would be ashamed if he could see me right now! 'You've fought the Orcs before and no cave troll, even no Balrog, was able to frighten you more than you are now,' he would have said. And he is right! Why should I be afraid? My friends are beside me and I can trust them! They'll defend me and I'll defend them. And there are still Frodo and Sam, seeking to destroy the Unnamed, and with him his hosts will fall! I only hope that they'll reach Mount Doom in time!'

In the meanwhile the four comrades had reached the house that had been chosen for them to sleep there. Stepping onto the threshold, Merry lifted his head with new faith and looked to the western sky. Darkness was already settling on the land, a new night reached out with his fingers, but nevertheless the sun had not been overthrown completely. Its rays seeming to touch the peak of Mount Mindolluin, coloring its white snow with a golden shimmer, it still could be seen in the far west.

'As long as the sun will shine, there will be hope. The Enemy can't bear a single ray of light, it burns a hole into his heart, and if we'll fight for the sun, we're fighting against the Unnamed. The sun shall be our token of victory!'

Smiling, the young Hobbit closed the door of the house and disappeared into the warm interior. Legolas had already lit a fire and heat was radiating throughout the whole room. Food had been placed on the table, obviously prepared by some Gondorians. The beds appeared comfortable, and with seeing the white sheets Merry suddenly felt how tired he was. This day had not been less exhausting than the ones before, although they had not been walking or riding for all the time.

But still grinning, he placed himself at the table next to Pippin and together with the two others, they had a real feast. Plenty of food was there, and they even got wine for drinking, not the endless water they had had for ages, at least so it had seemed to the Hobbits.

An almost merry mood came up during the meal and so they ate and ate until they could not swallow anything anymore.

"I think, if I get one another bite, then I'll be sick," Pippin laughed as almost all the food had disappeared in the hungry stomachs.

"Me too," said Gimli, and teasing, he added, "and I guess that Merry would not make a difference."

All eyes turned to the small Hobbit who could not even answer with his mouth filled that it looked like it would burst. Helplessly he shook his head and shrugged.

"If you can, you have to," he said after he had swallowed. "Old Bilbo, I guess, once said this and I only transferred it to food."

Laughter rippled through the room, something that had not happened for long. Save the brief break in Edoras, there had been no merry time since they had left Lothlórien, and even there they had not been able to be utterly happy. Too short time had passed since Gandalf had fallen into the shadow and the Elves, though friendly, had intimidated the Dwarf and the Hobbits. Also, they had needed long to fully trust Legolas and to behave unguarded in his presence. Too often had they experienced – or heard – that Elves felt superior to all other people and that everyone could perceive this in their daily actions.

Not long after the meal Merry and Pippin disappeared into one of the bed-rooms and made themselves comfortable. Legolas and Gimli, though, remained at the fire-place. No word disturbed the silence, the Dwarf was quietly smoking his pipe and the Elf was watching the flames.

An air of peace had settled on them and although Gimli was tired as well, he could not bring himself to leave. But with the passing time, his yawns became more frequent and finally Legolas bade him to go to bed.

"Go to sleep, my friend," he said. "It is not unlikely that battle will come to Minas Tirith tomorrow and I do not want to combat with a tired Dwarf. You see, that I have not forgotten your bet that you would slay more Orcs than I. Only strong arms can wield an axe to behead these foul creatures."

Challenging, the Dwarf looked at his friend. "I have not forgotten it either, and, you will notice, that I will win by far!"

With these words Gimli rose and left the Elf. But ere closing the door behind him, he stuck out his head again and asked. "You will keep sitting here, won't you?"

Legolas nodded solemnly. "I wish to speak to Gandalf when he returns. I am greatly interested in tidings about Faramir. My curiosity was stirred when he told about that young and noble man."

A soft thud of the door was the only response he got. Legolas himself would have liked to join the Dwarf, but his inquisitiveness got the better of him. Never could he have lain in bed without knowing what was going on, what counsel had been given in the White Tower.

Suddenly the feeling of a hand lying on his shoulder startled the Elf and he turned around, only to see Gandalf standing behind him, a grim smile on his face.

"My excuse," the wizard said while placing himself next to his friend, "I did not wish to wake you, but I suppose that you wanted to hear about the matters Denethor and I talked about?"

"Waking me?" the Elf asked bewildered. "I did not sleep, or at least I did not want to sleep. You are right, however, I would wish to learn about your tidings."

"I have not much to tell," the wizard then muttered, "and what I have to tell, is not as pleasant as I hoped it to be. Nevertheless, you shall not be left out, for it is important that you are informed. I assume, you saw Faramir coming back, either?"

The Elf nodded. "So I did, although he came not as I wanted him to. Fear lay on the men who were with him and he himself was almost bathed in blood. Is he badly hurt? I did not think so, but I could not look at him closely."

"Nay," Gandalf replied, "that would have been evil indeed. This way at least some hope remains. If Faramir had been injured, this would have disappeared also. He got a few minor scratches and bruises, his men, of whom no one returned without serious wounds, are worse. Great battle had been fought at the bridges of Osgiliath and many were lost. He told that he had taken about four hundred warriors with him when setting out one moon ago. Less than thirty have returned, the others fell into the shadow when the Orcs were attacking, outnumbering the Gondorians by far. Alas, many good men have stayed on the battlefield and we will miss them greatly, for war will come to Minas Tirith and no aid has come so far. The Riders of Théoden might arrive by dusk tomorrow, at the earliest, but in truth I do expect them in the late night. Many hosts have been sent out by the Unnamed, and although this city has withstood all battles so far, I am not sure if it will not be overcome this time. Its walls are strong, but no wall will resist the fear the Black Riders, the Nazgûl, are causing. When they will appear – and they will, I know, for the Enemy thinks them to be his greatest benefit – even the bravest will fall and in their hearts the wish to flee will become more overpowering than anything else. Until now I have seen that too often, my dear friend: Those, of whom you believe that they rather prefer to be slaughtered than to run away, cast down their arms and leave that which they have sworn to defend.

All the hope I despite held deep in my heart, has disappeared with the capture of Aragorn. He was meant to be the one who should keep the men together, looking upon him should have overcome the fear of the Nazgûl. The ancient lore and all tales are speaking of a 'king mightier than the Black Shadow and with his return the world of old shall be restored again'. Now we have to fight on our own, and the only thing that might keep this world – how we know it – from shattering apart, is, that two Hobbits have taken on the almost impossible task of destroying the One Ring."

For some heartbeats the Elf did not say anything, and then his voice could only be heard as a whisper, hardly to distinguish from the cracking of the flames. "Great guilt dwells in my heart. We were a fellowship of nine, our task was to protect each other. The Ringbearer departed to Mordor, the King of Gondor suffers in the hands of the Enemy and I am sitting in his city, a warm fire is flickering in front of me and if there was no battle to come, I would have been able to lead a wonderful life. I am wondering, whether I could have done anything to spare them from their fate. I wish, that I could have taken Aragorn's place – so that he could become the prophesied Envinyatar and that the free peoples would be unified under his crown."

The wizard was silent, in a gentle gesture he laid his palm on the Elf's knee. Now it was his turn to comfort his friend as Legolas had done it only some days before.

"'Fate', you said," Gandalf then murmured quietly, "and this tells everything. It was Aragorn's  destiny to suffer in Mordor and maybe he did it for our sake. Imagine, my dear Legolas, what there had been, if the Orcs had captured Frodo. The Ring would have been brought to Sauron and then the Shadow would have been inevitable. Did you never think that Aragorn had a purpose in his actions? Did you never think that it was not completely against his free will? Of course, to us it sounds foolishly. Never, you say, would he have believed his capture to be a way to save us all. But you have not known him for such a long time as I have. In the nights I have been thinking about him for long, and you know that in some moments I still cannot bear the images haunting me, but I believe it a possibility that he saw no other chance to let Frodo escape unscathed. I can give you no other comfort, but I might tell you, seeing him sacrificing himself for his friends helps me."

At length Legolas sighed softly, and gently Gandalf took his chin and turned the Elf's head towards him. "Rest some time, my friend," he said, "your soul is bearing too much pain. From tomorrow on we will merely think about the present, for nothing in the future must concern us. Great hosts are coming towards this city, and the only support we are able to offer Frodo, is, to keep the White Tower as long as it is possible. Our task is to withstand the Orcs, and never will we give up, even not when we will learn that the Ring has found its way back to its master."

Slowly the Elf nodded and rose with a graceful move. "Thank you," he suddenly said, "thank you for your comfort. I did not think it possible, but I feel better now."

Before Gandalf was able to reply, Legolas had already vanished.

The wizard himself, though, could not find sleep in this night. Too deep was his concern and talking to Legolas had stirred up all the old memories about Aragorn. They had managed to fulfill many deeds, and perilous situations had been survived.

The Man's gaze, full of friendship and gentleness, rested upon Gandalf for the whole night.

A/N: Anything that I should know? Please tell me!