Faramir began his ride from the place of the elves early in the day. Grand was an excellent pony and hard to tire. At the speed he was going, he expected to make the journey in two days, maybe part of a third day. What he did not expect was to be attacked.
At the first sign that something was wrong, Grand swerved into the woods and began to outrace the pursuers with ease. Then, a group of orcs surprised him, as one of them swung an axe at him. Faramir felt the stirrup break, and he fell to one side. The pony slowed, then suddenly reared, and bolted, an axe imbedded in the thick leather strap that held the saddle in place. As the pursuers began to close in on the fallen hobbit, the pony fled to take the messages to the Mark.
The Unicorn watched as these events took place. It saw the orcs appear, and watched as one of them grabbed the unconscious body of the hobbit, and shot an arrow into his back. Rushing at them, the Unicorn skewered the orc leader with one quick thrust. As the orcs paused in their confusion, the unicorn speared two more of the orcs, including the one holding the crossbow The others fled.
The Unicorn gently pierced the hobbit's clothing with its horn, and lifted the limp body. Racing away, the unicorn did not give the pursuers a chance to follow. It ran swiftly and without pause, without stopping to rest all day and through the night. The dawn had come, and the unicorn slowed its pace as it came to the road. It followed the road to the nearest farmhole, and whinnied loudly.
The hobbit came out of her hole and saw the unconscious boy hanging in front of her, and gasped. "Dalgo," she called behind her, "Fetch your father, then run for the doctor." A boy, Faramir's age, came out of the house, looked at the unicorn, and ran off.
Faramir was lowered, gently, to the ground and the goodwife examined his wounds. He would live, but he was seriously hurt. He had a bad fall, which was obvious, and his leg was broken What worried her was his face. She knew everyone in the East Farthing, but he did not look familiar. And blond hair was rare in the Shire. She should have known him because of that.
*
Mayor Brandybuck stared at the letter that Doctor Underhill showed him. It was an impossible letter, addressed to Peregrine Took, Thane of the Mark. To confuse matters more, it had the rune of Radagast the wizard on the seal. Hesitantly, he broke the seal, and read the letter. His face paled as he finished the letter, and he set down with a thump.
"Jellico, what is it?" the Doctor asked.
"It's every horror you can imagine, Tad," the Mayor said. "Legends have come alive to haunt us."
The Mayor handed over the letter, and let his friend read. He knew by the Doctor's reactions what part he was reading. The eyebrows arched as he read the name out of legend, Frodo Baggins. He took a quick breath when he read about the One Ring, and he frowned as he read about the Dark Lord breeding War Orcs. The Mayor knew there would be questions, and he was already thinking of answers.
"Tad, how long will the boy be unconscious?"
"He woke up earlier this morning, but was still in pain. I gave him something to make him sleep, but I don't expect him to wake up until tomorrow night, probably the next morning."
"Two days wasted, and now two days more," Jellico Brandybuck said, cursing the luck. "I'll call the council to see if they will help."
Doctor Underhill stared at the Mayor in disbelief, "What do you plan on doing? How can we help?"
The Mayor sighed, "Tad, the boy was riding to raise an army. It must have been serious if they sent someone that young. You told me yourself that his bruises came from a fall, but I'll swear I am that Took if he fell on that arrow."
"What do you want me to do?" the Doctor asked, as serious now as the Mayor was.
"Send for Charlie Big Feet," Jellico said. "We'll need the help of the big people as well."
*
"Good morning," a voice called out as Faramir began to stir. He opened his eyes on a dark-haired girl, his own age, and stared.
"Oh you poor thing," the girl said with amusement, "unable to speak. Can you make hand gestures?"
"No," said Faramir, confused. "Where am I?"
"In my father's home," the girl said, "That would be Doctor Thadeus Underhill, and I'm Fedelia. And your name is?"
"Uh, Faramir," he said, "Faramir Took."
The girl stepped back, and gasped. That was impossible. The Tooks separated from the rest of the hobbits during the last migration, and they and their followers were lost. There were no Tooks anymore, except in the book of legends. She ran out to get her father, who followed her back into the bedroom.
"And how are you feeling, Faramir?" the doctor said as he sat down by the bed. He sent his daughter to fetch breakfast and then examined the now wide awake hobbit, telling him he would live. He answered Faramir's questions crisply, explaining that he was not in the Mark, but in the Shire, named after their old home in the Red Book. Faramir listened in rapt attention when he was told how a farmer's wife answered a knock on the door to find him hanging from the horn of a unicorn, and that he was brought to this hobbit hole in the town of New Bree.
"How did the unicorn find me?" Faramir asked, telling how he left the place of the elves, and was waylaid by orcs. For his answer the Doctor only shrugged his shoulders.
Fedelia came back with a large breakfast, which Faramir ate greedily. He thanked them for the meal, and asked about getting up. The Doctor told him to be careful of the cast on his leg, and that he would get crutches to help him walk. Then he embarrassed the boy by telling him he had fresh clothes borrowed from a nephew the same age, asking Faramir if he was twelve.
When Fedelia left the room, Tad helped the boy dress, and asked him about his scars, which were clearly recent. Faramir told him about the battle with the spiders, leaving out the details about why he happened to get caught by the spider. For some reason, he did not feel like bragging about himself. He did brag about The Lady, however. Tad was impressed, saying that it sounded like a tall tale, but if even a tenth of it was true, it would still be quite a feat.
"Come now, lad, If you're up for it. We have a few more questions to ask you, about the letter."
"You read it," Faramir asked accusingly.
"Yes, we did," Doctor Underhill answered, glaring back at the boy, "and it was a good thing, too. Even now, we are not sure if we are too late to help, and that is why we need you."
"Help?" asked a confused voice.
"Help," the Doctor said, opening the door for the boy.
Faramir walked into the next room, balancing carefully between his right leg and the crutches. He looked up and saw several hobbits, as well as two men. He also saw a large, detailed map laid out on the table before them. It was obvious that they had all been waiting patiently for him. No one said anything, but he knew what they wanted. He stared at the map which was twice his height and again as long. It was the Great Forest. He looked for something familiar, and found the caverns quickly, by the placement of what few mountains were enfolded with the forest. He explained where they led, and that he had started his return trip from there.
Once he spotted the familiar curve of the Buckle River, Faramir pointed out the Mark, and from there he was able to give clear directions to where the armies were supposed to meet. He was then asked when. He told them the date, and everyone began talking at once. They had nine days.
Faramir let out a gasp of his own when he was shown where he was. The trip would have taken three days of hard marching from the Mark, but the Shire was almost three times as far and in a completely different direction. He would be hard pressed to make it if he left right then.
"We'll make plans to leave in the morning," one of the men said, heading for the door, "I'll pass the word."
"What did he mean by 'We'?" asked Faramir.
A familiar looking hobbit told him, "We read your letter, and began forming an army. If Radagast put his seal on it, we knew it must be true. As Mayor, I can be very influential if I need to, young . . . "
"Faramir Took, Sir," the young hobbit said, "and I thank you, Sir, on behalf of my father's grandfather, Peregrine Took, The Thane." He bowed the best he could as he finished, bringing a smile to the Mayor.
"Thank You, Faramir, And when you meet him, please give him the regards of Mayor Jellico Brandybuck on behalf of the Shire."
"My mother's a Brandybuck," Faramir said, his eyes gleaming.
*
The Mayor gave Faramir a tour of the town, by means of his cart, and listened joyfully to the bragging of his distant nephew. He half-believed anything the boy said, just out of courtesy, until they passed one of the wagons being loaded.
"Why are they loading food on top of those pikes?" Faramir asked.
"Because we are sure to eat the food before we need the pikes," The Mayor replied.
"And I'm going to reach the Mark without any problems, Uncle Jellico."
The Mayor stopped the cart, and called over to the foreman. The wagon was emptied, and reloaded. Weapons would always be the first thing anyone took off that, or any other wagon. Faramir asked about rifles when he saw them, and said they wouldn't work. The enemy would be more than happy to use such weapons or worse, and the elves had taken steps to make such weapons useless. Any fighting would be done with sword, axes and pikes, as well as bows and arrows. It would hinder the men, but it would hurt the enemy more.
Faramir ended up the day, reviewing all of the plans that had been made. His knowledge may have been fresh, but he had more experience than anyone else. Without meaning to, he became very valuable, and efforts were made to bring him along in a cart. Whatever he knew would be taken and used.
The young boy was too tired to think about how quickly events were moving around him, and went to bed as early as he could. Thus he missed the strangest thing to happen in the Shire, stranger than his arrival.
As the sun was going down, the unicorn returned. It went to a stable, and everyone stopped their preparations as she walked to the stable master. She pointed her horn at his chest and whinnied. The stable master went pale, and led her to where the saddles were. She pointed to one, and the stable master signaled for it to be set aside. She went to the bridles, and chose one by putting her teeth on the metal bit, and biting through it. She then left the stable.
Faramir woke early the next morning, to find the unicorn outside the Doctor's hole, saddled and ready for him. The unicorn looked at him, and he understood she would be his transportation, although she would not tell him why. With help he mounted, his cast being put in a leather stirrup made for that purpose. He hardly felt the unicorn as she began to move, and was the only comfortable person, man or hobbit, for the entire journey.
The army, almost four thousand strong, left, traveling as quickly as they could. The path, except for the last part, would be by roads and should be quick, weather and orcs permitting. For the last part, they were looking at two days of forced marches to reach the rendevous point. Despite their plans, they expected to be late.
Anyone designated as a commander, rode with Faramir, as he continually repeated the story of the Battle of Buckport Road, as well as the tales of Gil-Galad, and anything remotely military. Everyone was green, and they did not have much time to learn. They knew how to march in step, but that was all they ever had to do.
When they rested each night, Faramir camped with Doctor Underhill and his daughter, as well as several other doctors and healers, and their older children. They were not there to fight, but to see that as many as possible survived any fighting that occurred. That was when he heard about the sword.
"When the fourth age ended," Tad said, before the fire, repeating the oft told story, "and the line of kings ended as well, the elves had taken the reforged sword, Anduril, and left it with the hobbits of the original Shire, with a prediction that the heir of Elessar would weald it in battle. The line of kings was supposed never to die out, and while the last king did pass away without issue, there were other descendants from whom the claimant would come."
"Could I see it?" Faramir asked.
"Of course," Tad Underhill said with a grin. He unwrapped the blanket, and said, "Go ahead, try it out."
Faramir eagerly reached for the sword, but stopped. Somehow he couldn't bring himself to grab it. He settled for running a finger along the blade.
"It's a trick of the elves," the Doctor told him, "Only a descendant of Aragorn, King Elessar, can hold this sword."
*
Faramir's insistence that weapons should always be ready, came in handily on the fifth day out. Small parties of orcs began appearing, as their paths crossed that of the army. They were heading the same direction as the hobbits and men, but now they would never make it. Small pitched battles, never more than an hour or two, became commonplace. The army gained some small experience, but they lost time as well. They arrived at the rendevous, two days late.
After a hasty meeting, scouts were sent ahead, as they followed the path of the gathered troops they were trying to join. The afternoon of the following day found Faramir, with Charlie Big Feet and Jellico Brandybuck, standing on a rise overlooking the battle in front of them.
"Charlie, see that gap," Faramir said, "That is where we have to get to, and fast. You can see orcs coming up from behind their lines."
Unbeknownst to the young hobbit, these were the same orcs that had stayed to fight Brigadier MacGregor and his troops who had been cut off. The delay caused by stiff resistance had kept them from joining the battle until this time.
Charlie Big Feet called his makeshift cavalry to order, and began the charge into the gap. Faramir dared to ride beside him and no one could dissuade him from this course of action. Behind them, armed hobbits were running at top speed, making the horses appear to be slower than they really were. Also, one special wagon was being wheeled forward, holding only one sword.
The cavalry hit the gap, flankers attacking the enemy on either side. The main body ran full force into the mass of approaching orcs, causing confusion. Most of the riders made it through the lines, and under Charlie's leadership, wheeled and turned and began to attack from behind. As the orcs tried to deal with this new enemy, the Shire hobbits attacked them from the front. Although outnumbered, the hobbits and men were still organized, and dead orcs littered the field.
Fireballs were being shot randomly by a lone flyer on his broom, when suddenly, another fireball came across the ground, right at the line of hobbits. The gaping hole was filled by the fresh troops of orcs that Lord Voldemort had brought with him.
In the midst of this, Draco and Little Sean ducked for cover, as the fireball exploded near them. They were saved, only by a wagon that passed between them and the blast. The remains of the wagon flew over, while burning pieces of wood rained above.
"I've lost my pike," Little Sean said apologetically, as though he had no cause for such foolishness.
"Well, there's a sword right there," Draco said, pointing at the ground.
Sean uttered a word of thanks, and grabbed the sword. Then the two ran to rejoin the battle.
Harry had seen the fireball, and quickly flew to the spot, hovering high enough over the battlefield to be out of danger, but close enough to combat any more spells. He had no time to figure out how the Dark Lord had been able to use magic.
Voldemort recognized the problem, and cursed at being so easily thwarted. He had dueled with Harry Potter before, and knew what would happen. He knew he would win this round, but he would be a sitting duck in the meantime, and Harry on his broom was too fast for the Dark Lord to risk any curse.
After the initial shock of Voldemort's spell had passed, and everyone realized that no more spells would follow, two things happened:
The first was that the word spread about who the new arrivals were. Their sudden appearance gave new hope to those fighting.
The second was that Sean, swinging his new sword, was seen by one of the elves as he clove an orc in two. "Anduril, the Narsil blade," the elf called out, and the cry raced across the battlefield. The heir of the kings had shown himself and was advancing into the enemy. Advances were made all along the line, with disastrous results for the orcs. They were routed throughout the battlefield. Those of the army who could, followed them, and slaughtered them.
Lord Voldemort watched as his army vanished around him. All of his work was undone. But he had one last trick up his sleeve. He put his wand away, and raised his hands as though in surrender. As expected, Harry quickly closed in on him, ready for any deception
"Don't worry, Potter, I wasn't planning on killing anyone. I just wanted your attention," Voldemort said, smiling, as the elves, bows drawn, approached him.
"What do you want?" Harry sneered at his enemy.
"To thank you, Harry, my dear boy," Voldemort said, "Remember, you have some of me in you, and I have some of you in me, and you are going to save me."
"I'm not going to save you," Harry said, with a laugh.
"But you already have," Voldemort said, with a laugh of his own, "You still wear Gryffindor's sword."
The elvin arrows were not fast enough as the Dark Lord apparated, and Harry cursed himself for not asking himself why Voldemort could use magic. For him, it was a hollow victory.
*
The centaurs were hard pressed and losing ground. They had underestimated Voldemort's cunning, and had not delayed as many of the enemy as they hoped. Bren tried to get them to hold as long as possible. Success was not in winning this battle, but in giving the others enough time to win theirs. It was a crushing blow to him that the Dark Lord still drew off half of his reserves to fight the main battle.
Bren heard the sound of wings, and looked to see two dragons approaching. The centaurs had almost despaired when he called out, "They are ours. I see the riders." Radagast had come, and had brought aid.
The dragons, guided by their riders, flew over the lines of orcs spreading fire and death. A desperate holding action became an advancing attack within minutes. The dragons were unstoppable, and in a short time no orc remained alive. Then they turned their flames on the breeding pits, and fire destroyed everything it touched. With the dragons flanking them, the centaurs galloped to the main battle, to encounter fleeing orcs trying to return to their nest. None of the orcs left the battle field alive.
*
After the battle was over, the elves came to seek the heir of the king, only to receive another surprise. Sean was passing his new sword around to all of his friends, who were each, in turn, picking it up and admiring it. A very dirty Eamon Finn asked to see it, and commented on how comfortable it felt despite its weight. Galdor approached the group, and expressed his surprise. He told them about the warding placed on the sword, and then watched as several men in the group began to laugh.
One of them said to the elves, "It's known that all Irishmen are the descendants of kings. All you've done is tell us which kings."
Galdor laughed with them. The line of Aragorn Elessar never died out, and it never would.
*
Dwarin had clasped Peregrine Boffin in a bone crushing hug, calling everyone to see the hero of the day. The hobbit, so recently tolerated, had to put up with everyone admitting they were wrong about him. Finally, after he had heard the phrase a dozen times, he couldn't help but quip, "You're only happy because you're not dead wrong." It became a story told around many a fireside.
*
Grelchik sat on the ground next to Tom, and a couple of other hobbits, eating greedily at the bread given him. He looked up to see other goblins approaching, slowly, and with a touch of fear. "You fought?" asked one of the goblins, "How?"
"Because I had to," Grelchik answered, aware of what an unusual sight he was. Grime and sweat covered him in a manner that made the others shudder. He looked over and saw the hobbits staring, then turned to the goblin leader. "Hrothchak, this is . . . my friend . . . Tom."
Tom held out a dirty hand saying, "Pleased to meet you. Any friend of Grel's is a friend of mine."
Hrothchak carefully shook the hand, as did two other goblins, but they all continued to stare at their associate. He had done the impossible and fought, and then he had done the unthinkable and called someone a 'friend.' Hrothchak quickly excused himself to take care of business, and the other goblins continued to stare, unsure of what to do. Finally, one goblin turned to Tom, and asked what it was that he was called.
"I'm a hobbit, if that's what you mean," Tom said with a smile.
"No, no," said the goblin, "I wanted to know, what is a friend?"
*
Draco rolled over in his blanket, and smiled. He had a hard day, but it was worth it. He had not only kept Little Sean alive, but he had also maneuvered him to the right spot to be the first to pick up the sword. Now, Sean was a hero, and Fiona would not object to her brother's friend as a suitor. He laughed as he thought of how people would react when he married her. Those who watched him would never guess what he was doing, and that made things much more fun.
Of course, he could have ended everyone's problems by reminding Harry about 'his' sword, but that would have interfered with his plans. Draco knew they wouldn't blame him, personally. After all, he had fought on their side. Now they wouldn't try to stop him, and his plan would succeed. All he had to do was tell his father what Harry was finding out at that moment.
*
Harry and Hermione were hugging each other. Harry had tried to apologize for what happened with Voldemort but no one would hear of it. "How many orcs did you kill, Harry?" someone asked, "and how many of us were not killed as a result." The attitude was reassuring, they had achieved their goal, that they missed out on the bonus was regretted, but that was war.
Harry tried to greet Faramir, still on his pony, but an owl arrived delivering a letter. Harry opened the scroll and read it. "It's from Dennis Creevey," he said, excitedly.
"What about Ron?" Hermione asked anxiously, "Is he all right? Is he hurt? Where is he?"
"Ron's fine," Harry said, "Dennis says they're hiding, but he doesn't say where." Then he added with a smile, "But Ron isn't there anymore. He's waiting for us at the Cracks of Doom."