Author's note: Thanks to pippin-n-legolas for your review. I'm constantly
writing, so naturally I get chapters up quickly. Cass, thank you for
reviewing. I'm always glad to get new fans.
***
Sal doubled over as a fist contacted with his stomach again. He focused on his breathing while the pain flared and then died down. In and out, in and out, in and out. Slowly the pain dulled, and he was able to straighten, only to have another blow strike his stomach. In and out, in and out. Another blow fell, and Sal kept his thoughts calm and tried to see past the pain in his stomach. As long as he provided no entertainment, the pain would be over more quickly.
"You shouldn't have come back here, traitor," Halastir said, finally getting bored of this beating. Sal remained silent. He dearly wished to say that he hadn't betrayed Elessar, but he knew he couldn't. Halastir wouldn't believe him anyway.
Another guard came into the cell were Sal was standing, chained. This guard was quite a few years younger than them and Sal didn't recognise him. He must have joined sometime after Sal's exile.
"The king doesn't wish to be disturbed," the guard said.
"Very well," Halastir replied, "I know how to deal with traitors who break their exile."
***
Elessar was talking to Acathon in the throne room of Minas Tirith. Acathon had arrived about an hour before, and he was telling the king the news he brought about his son. Elessar listened, considering Sal's plan and the news Jaren had passed on. It seemed to best chance Eldarion had, hopeless though it was.
"I am ready to give the order to the Rangers," Acathon said.
Before Elessar could reply, there was a timid knock on the door and one of the guards entered.
"I gave orders not to be disturbed!" Elessar snapped. He had been rather short tempered of late, understandably so. He especially didn't want to be disturbed when his son's fate could hang in the balance of his decision.
"I'm sorry, Your Majesty," the guard said, "but he said it was important. I would not have interrupted but for the fact he bears the tree broach."
"Send him in!" Elessar's first thought was that it was Sal, coming with urgent news of his son, and fear gripped his heart. However it was not Sal who hurried in, but a rather flustered looking hobbit.
"Pippin?" Elessar said, "What's wrong?" Pippin began to talk in a garbled and hurried fashion. Something about Sal, and traitors, and killing. "Pippin, slow down. I can't understand if you babble like this. "
"Sal was bringing me to the city, but they caught him at the gate," Pippin said, "I think they mean to kill him." Elessar cursed under his breath, getting instantly to his feet. Sal had come into the city many times before without being spotted! Why did he have to choose now to get caught?
He realised when he reached the cells that neither Pippin nor Acathon were with him, and hoped that Acathon had taken Pippin somewhere to give him some food. The hobbit certainly looked as though he needed it, but right now he had more important things to worry about.
***
Sal's arms were chained above him to the ceiling. There was nothing he could do, no way he could defend himself, as Halastir drew a sword and held the point to his throat.
"Any last words, traitor?" Halastir asked. There were plenty of things Sal wanted to say, but nothing he could. So he shook his head. Better to die silently than begging for mercy, if die he must.
'Forgive me, my king,' he thought, closing his eyes and waiting for the blow to fall. He had faced death before, but this time it was different. Dying in battle wasn't the same as being executed. To die this way seemed wrong. It seemed a failure after all that he had been through.
Suddenly he heard the sound of the door being flung open and a voice demanded, "What's going on here?" Sal opened his eyes and saw Elessar. His expression was filled with anger. Not a wild rage, but a cold, calculating anger, like hard steel. Sal was very glad indeed that he wasn't the one on the receiving end of that anger. It was bad enough to watch it.
"Your Majesty," Halastir began, "I was told you weren't to be disturbed."
"So you decided to carry out an execution without my consent?"
"He is charged with death. You gave the sentence yourself."
"Salafir returned here on my instructions. If you had sent me word, as was your duty, we would have avoided this."
"He didn't say he had your permission." Sal could see Halastir was desperately trying to find a way out of this situation.
"Because he wasn't supposed to. Go now, and speak of this to no one." Halastir and the younger guard both left. Before the door closed, Sal caught a glimpse of Marend looking at him strangely, clearly having overheard the conversation. Hopefully he would take the order to be silent as meant for him as well.
Elessar waited until the door was shut before walking over to Sal and releasing his hands. Sal rubbed his wrists gratefully, watching as the anger on Elessar's face faded into annoyance. Sal had no doubt that he was the target of that annoyance, but it was a lot better than anger. Elessar stared at him with the gaze Sal had come to dread, the one that seemed to reach inside his heart. Sal always felt so exposed when he stood in front of the king.
"You didn't give me any instructions to return," Sal said at last.
"No," Elessar admitted.
"So you just lied to your soldiers?"
"Technically, I didn't lie. I ordered you to rescue my son, and you must have come here believing it would help you achieve that. Therefore, you were following my orders." Though Elessar spoke seriously, Sal couldn't help himself. He burst out laughing.
"What's so funny?" Elessar demanded.
"You." Sal said, as soon as he managed to stop laughing, "You haven't changed a bit."
"Neither have you. Why is it you always end up in my cells?"
"It's the view." Sal gestured at the bare walls. Elessar stared at him, trying to suppress a smile. Sal counted silently, and just as he reached three, Elessar gave up trying and let himself laugh. Suddenly Sal found himself enveloped in a hug, and hugged his friend back.
"I've missed you," Elessar admitted, releasing Sal from the hug.
"You've only got yourself to blame," Sal said, "you didn't have to exile me."
"And how would I have coped with Ralisay if I didn't punish you?"
Sal grinned again. "I can think of some ways."
"Ones that involve sharp blades, I'd wager."
"Naturally."
"Now, Sal, I can't go around killing my advisors. Though it is tempting at times." Elessar smiled, but then his face became more serious, and Sal knew he'd soon have to explain why he'd come back.
"What news do you bring of my son?" Elessar asked. Sal sat down on the floor of the cell. There was no point in being more uncomfortable than necessary during his long tale.
***
Merry awoke to find himself tied again. He wondered what had woken him, then he realised the man on watch must have given a call. Fadell ran up to him. The camp stirred and found weapons. Jaren came and stood over where Merry and Eldarion were tied.
The new camp was very different from the old. It was in rocky ground, with a steep scree slope on one side. Merry guessed they were on a hill, and there was a similar slope down on the other side. The men were waiting with weapons aimed down the slope. It wasn't long before Merry saw the thing they were aiming at.
A man, dressed in the uniform of Gondor, came to the edge of the camp. Merry wondered if he was looking for them, but Fadell waved his hand for the men to lower their weapons.
"What are you doing here, Marend?" Fadell demanded of the newcomer. "I gave you orders to remain in Minas Tirith."
"My news was too urgent for it to wait. It seems the traitor has betrayed us."
Merry didn't think anyone else heard what Jaren murmured on hearing those words, but he heard and was afraid.
"Sal," Jaren whispered.
***
Author's note: Yep, Pippin's alive. I may consider explaining how, if you'll consider reviewing. That seem fair?
The plot is certainly getting thicker, isn't it? Everyone seems to be swapping sides like there's no tomorrow. I may get everyone sorted into the good and evil categories before the end of the story, but the rate it's going I may not.
***
Sal doubled over as a fist contacted with his stomach again. He focused on his breathing while the pain flared and then died down. In and out, in and out, in and out. Slowly the pain dulled, and he was able to straighten, only to have another blow strike his stomach. In and out, in and out. Another blow fell, and Sal kept his thoughts calm and tried to see past the pain in his stomach. As long as he provided no entertainment, the pain would be over more quickly.
"You shouldn't have come back here, traitor," Halastir said, finally getting bored of this beating. Sal remained silent. He dearly wished to say that he hadn't betrayed Elessar, but he knew he couldn't. Halastir wouldn't believe him anyway.
Another guard came into the cell were Sal was standing, chained. This guard was quite a few years younger than them and Sal didn't recognise him. He must have joined sometime after Sal's exile.
"The king doesn't wish to be disturbed," the guard said.
"Very well," Halastir replied, "I know how to deal with traitors who break their exile."
***
Elessar was talking to Acathon in the throne room of Minas Tirith. Acathon had arrived about an hour before, and he was telling the king the news he brought about his son. Elessar listened, considering Sal's plan and the news Jaren had passed on. It seemed to best chance Eldarion had, hopeless though it was.
"I am ready to give the order to the Rangers," Acathon said.
Before Elessar could reply, there was a timid knock on the door and one of the guards entered.
"I gave orders not to be disturbed!" Elessar snapped. He had been rather short tempered of late, understandably so. He especially didn't want to be disturbed when his son's fate could hang in the balance of his decision.
"I'm sorry, Your Majesty," the guard said, "but he said it was important. I would not have interrupted but for the fact he bears the tree broach."
"Send him in!" Elessar's first thought was that it was Sal, coming with urgent news of his son, and fear gripped his heart. However it was not Sal who hurried in, but a rather flustered looking hobbit.
"Pippin?" Elessar said, "What's wrong?" Pippin began to talk in a garbled and hurried fashion. Something about Sal, and traitors, and killing. "Pippin, slow down. I can't understand if you babble like this. "
"Sal was bringing me to the city, but they caught him at the gate," Pippin said, "I think they mean to kill him." Elessar cursed under his breath, getting instantly to his feet. Sal had come into the city many times before without being spotted! Why did he have to choose now to get caught?
He realised when he reached the cells that neither Pippin nor Acathon were with him, and hoped that Acathon had taken Pippin somewhere to give him some food. The hobbit certainly looked as though he needed it, but right now he had more important things to worry about.
***
Sal's arms were chained above him to the ceiling. There was nothing he could do, no way he could defend himself, as Halastir drew a sword and held the point to his throat.
"Any last words, traitor?" Halastir asked. There were plenty of things Sal wanted to say, but nothing he could. So he shook his head. Better to die silently than begging for mercy, if die he must.
'Forgive me, my king,' he thought, closing his eyes and waiting for the blow to fall. He had faced death before, but this time it was different. Dying in battle wasn't the same as being executed. To die this way seemed wrong. It seemed a failure after all that he had been through.
Suddenly he heard the sound of the door being flung open and a voice demanded, "What's going on here?" Sal opened his eyes and saw Elessar. His expression was filled with anger. Not a wild rage, but a cold, calculating anger, like hard steel. Sal was very glad indeed that he wasn't the one on the receiving end of that anger. It was bad enough to watch it.
"Your Majesty," Halastir began, "I was told you weren't to be disturbed."
"So you decided to carry out an execution without my consent?"
"He is charged with death. You gave the sentence yourself."
"Salafir returned here on my instructions. If you had sent me word, as was your duty, we would have avoided this."
"He didn't say he had your permission." Sal could see Halastir was desperately trying to find a way out of this situation.
"Because he wasn't supposed to. Go now, and speak of this to no one." Halastir and the younger guard both left. Before the door closed, Sal caught a glimpse of Marend looking at him strangely, clearly having overheard the conversation. Hopefully he would take the order to be silent as meant for him as well.
Elessar waited until the door was shut before walking over to Sal and releasing his hands. Sal rubbed his wrists gratefully, watching as the anger on Elessar's face faded into annoyance. Sal had no doubt that he was the target of that annoyance, but it was a lot better than anger. Elessar stared at him with the gaze Sal had come to dread, the one that seemed to reach inside his heart. Sal always felt so exposed when he stood in front of the king.
"You didn't give me any instructions to return," Sal said at last.
"No," Elessar admitted.
"So you just lied to your soldiers?"
"Technically, I didn't lie. I ordered you to rescue my son, and you must have come here believing it would help you achieve that. Therefore, you were following my orders." Though Elessar spoke seriously, Sal couldn't help himself. He burst out laughing.
"What's so funny?" Elessar demanded.
"You." Sal said, as soon as he managed to stop laughing, "You haven't changed a bit."
"Neither have you. Why is it you always end up in my cells?"
"It's the view." Sal gestured at the bare walls. Elessar stared at him, trying to suppress a smile. Sal counted silently, and just as he reached three, Elessar gave up trying and let himself laugh. Suddenly Sal found himself enveloped in a hug, and hugged his friend back.
"I've missed you," Elessar admitted, releasing Sal from the hug.
"You've only got yourself to blame," Sal said, "you didn't have to exile me."
"And how would I have coped with Ralisay if I didn't punish you?"
Sal grinned again. "I can think of some ways."
"Ones that involve sharp blades, I'd wager."
"Naturally."
"Now, Sal, I can't go around killing my advisors. Though it is tempting at times." Elessar smiled, but then his face became more serious, and Sal knew he'd soon have to explain why he'd come back.
"What news do you bring of my son?" Elessar asked. Sal sat down on the floor of the cell. There was no point in being more uncomfortable than necessary during his long tale.
***
Merry awoke to find himself tied again. He wondered what had woken him, then he realised the man on watch must have given a call. Fadell ran up to him. The camp stirred and found weapons. Jaren came and stood over where Merry and Eldarion were tied.
The new camp was very different from the old. It was in rocky ground, with a steep scree slope on one side. Merry guessed they were on a hill, and there was a similar slope down on the other side. The men were waiting with weapons aimed down the slope. It wasn't long before Merry saw the thing they were aiming at.
A man, dressed in the uniform of Gondor, came to the edge of the camp. Merry wondered if he was looking for them, but Fadell waved his hand for the men to lower their weapons.
"What are you doing here, Marend?" Fadell demanded of the newcomer. "I gave you orders to remain in Minas Tirith."
"My news was too urgent for it to wait. It seems the traitor has betrayed us."
Merry didn't think anyone else heard what Jaren murmured on hearing those words, but he heard and was afraid.
"Sal," Jaren whispered.
***
Author's note: Yep, Pippin's alive. I may consider explaining how, if you'll consider reviewing. That seem fair?
The plot is certainly getting thicker, isn't it? Everyone seems to be swapping sides like there's no tomorrow. I may get everyone sorted into the good and evil categories before the end of the story, but the rate it's going I may not.