Disclaimer: The Lord of the rings and all its characters belong to J.R.R.
Tolkien.
Summary: The setting is post-RoTK. A renewed attack by a band of Southrons sees Faramir, Legolas and Gimli set off to Ithilien soon after Aragorn's coronation. Faramir and Legolas are yet to build their settlements in Ithilien.
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The rider slung himself off his horse the moment he had passed through the makeshift gates of the city, and made his way swiftly upto the highest level of the city, where the king had already been informed of his arrival, by the soldiers manning the battlement.
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Faramir nodded glumly at Anborn's words. His hand tightened instinctively on the hilt of his sword.
"I will have the garrison here strengthened," he said, and the underlying weariness in his tone did not go unnoticed by Legolas, who gave him a sharp glance. But the steward's face retained its habitual composure, as he listened to Anborn relate the positions of his men who were spread across the glades and thickets that dotted the land.
"We must scout near Harad road," Gimli declared stoutly, "And see what else comes from there."
"They travel in small bands," Faramir mused, "So as to not attract attention perhaps? But what is their purpose? Why make small raids at the rangers, and not aim for something bigger?"
"Some were seen near Osgiliath, my lord," Anborn ventured.
Legolas noticed a cloud pass on Faramir's face for barely a fraction of a second. And then it was gone. He simply nodded grimly.
"The garrison there was much depleted," he conceded, "as were all along the river," came the soft abstracted addition.
"Are there signs of much activity on the road?" Legolas asked frowning a little to himself, as Faramir fell into a distracted reverie.
"Nay, my lord, if these men come, they come in small bands as Lord Faramir says," Anborn replied.
"Small enough to make it unnoticed as far as Osgiliath," the steward said.
Anborn nodded, his face clearly troubled.
But it was Mablung who vocalized the worry, "this is more than just a small band of troublemakers, captain."
"I do not like the sound of this," Faramir told Legolas, "the king should hear of this."
"Hear of what?" Gimli asked, "We have nothing clear cut to tell him, but that there are a few bands of southrons roaming these lands." His tone was not condescending, and Faramir realised that, nodding in agreement.
"Yes, it is not much to go by, but it makes me uneasy, and I would have him hear of it, before it becomes too late. As I would have reinforcements sent here, and to Osgiliath and Cair Andros. What do you say?" he turned to Legolas here, and the prince of Mirkwood suddenly realised that Faramir was looking to him for an opinion.
"You may be right," he conceded.
They found themselves heading back where they'd come from, frustration uppermost in their minds. Mablung and Damrod stayed back with their companions leaving the strange trio of elf, human and dwarf to ride back to Minas Tirith.
"We have achieved nothing," Gimli growled, and his companions could do nothing but agree with him, as the horses thundered across the countryside.
"Why are the garrisons along the river not in full strength?" Gimli asked when they slowed down to negotiate their way through some thorny scrubland.
"They had high losses during the siege," Faramir replied tersely, "By the time the cavalry was sent forth from the city, and the knights of Amroth came to our aid, we had lost many." The transition from the third person to the first brought back to Legolas the fact that Faramir had been leading that retreat. And Faramir was obviously remembering the retreat at that moment, for his eyes looked somewhere far away, and his voice took a distant tone, while his hands tightened on his reins.
"Many are still recovering," he continued seemingly under control, "and they are still rebuilding much of what fell then."
His voice was curiously flat, and Legolas found himself silencing Gimli with a look as he sensed the dwarf wanted to ask more. Gimli stared back at him puzzled, and then took one look at Faramir's expressionless but pale face, and said no more.
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"I come with news from Pelargir, sire," the messenger dropped on his knees in front of Aragorn, referring to the area in South Ithilien.
"What news do you bring?" Aragorn asked the ranger, knowing in his heart that it could not possibly be good.
"We face an attack from a Southron force sire, they take the fork coming towards Pelargir from the Harad Road, and will be upon us by the end of the day. There are not enough men to prevent them crossing the river, my king," the man's distress was evident on his face, as was the distress on the faces of all his listeners.
Summary: The setting is post-RoTK. A renewed attack by a band of Southrons sees Faramir, Legolas and Gimli set off to Ithilien soon after Aragorn's coronation. Faramir and Legolas are yet to build their settlements in Ithilien.
-----
The rider slung himself off his horse the moment he had passed through the makeshift gates of the city, and made his way swiftly upto the highest level of the city, where the king had already been informed of his arrival, by the soldiers manning the battlement.
-----
Faramir nodded glumly at Anborn's words. His hand tightened instinctively on the hilt of his sword.
"I will have the garrison here strengthened," he said, and the underlying weariness in his tone did not go unnoticed by Legolas, who gave him a sharp glance. But the steward's face retained its habitual composure, as he listened to Anborn relate the positions of his men who were spread across the glades and thickets that dotted the land.
"We must scout near Harad road," Gimli declared stoutly, "And see what else comes from there."
"They travel in small bands," Faramir mused, "So as to not attract attention perhaps? But what is their purpose? Why make small raids at the rangers, and not aim for something bigger?"
"Some were seen near Osgiliath, my lord," Anborn ventured.
Legolas noticed a cloud pass on Faramir's face for barely a fraction of a second. And then it was gone. He simply nodded grimly.
"The garrison there was much depleted," he conceded, "as were all along the river," came the soft abstracted addition.
"Are there signs of much activity on the road?" Legolas asked frowning a little to himself, as Faramir fell into a distracted reverie.
"Nay, my lord, if these men come, they come in small bands as Lord Faramir says," Anborn replied.
"Small enough to make it unnoticed as far as Osgiliath," the steward said.
Anborn nodded, his face clearly troubled.
But it was Mablung who vocalized the worry, "this is more than just a small band of troublemakers, captain."
"I do not like the sound of this," Faramir told Legolas, "the king should hear of this."
"Hear of what?" Gimli asked, "We have nothing clear cut to tell him, but that there are a few bands of southrons roaming these lands." His tone was not condescending, and Faramir realised that, nodding in agreement.
"Yes, it is not much to go by, but it makes me uneasy, and I would have him hear of it, before it becomes too late. As I would have reinforcements sent here, and to Osgiliath and Cair Andros. What do you say?" he turned to Legolas here, and the prince of Mirkwood suddenly realised that Faramir was looking to him for an opinion.
"You may be right," he conceded.
They found themselves heading back where they'd come from, frustration uppermost in their minds. Mablung and Damrod stayed back with their companions leaving the strange trio of elf, human and dwarf to ride back to Minas Tirith.
"We have achieved nothing," Gimli growled, and his companions could do nothing but agree with him, as the horses thundered across the countryside.
"Why are the garrisons along the river not in full strength?" Gimli asked when they slowed down to negotiate their way through some thorny scrubland.
"They had high losses during the siege," Faramir replied tersely, "By the time the cavalry was sent forth from the city, and the knights of Amroth came to our aid, we had lost many." The transition from the third person to the first brought back to Legolas the fact that Faramir had been leading that retreat. And Faramir was obviously remembering the retreat at that moment, for his eyes looked somewhere far away, and his voice took a distant tone, while his hands tightened on his reins.
"Many are still recovering," he continued seemingly under control, "and they are still rebuilding much of what fell then."
His voice was curiously flat, and Legolas found himself silencing Gimli with a look as he sensed the dwarf wanted to ask more. Gimli stared back at him puzzled, and then took one look at Faramir's expressionless but pale face, and said no more.
------
"I come with news from Pelargir, sire," the messenger dropped on his knees in front of Aragorn, referring to the area in South Ithilien.
"What news do you bring?" Aragorn asked the ranger, knowing in his heart that it could not possibly be good.
"We face an attack from a Southron force sire, they take the fork coming towards Pelargir from the Harad Road, and will be upon us by the end of the day. There are not enough men to prevent them crossing the river, my king," the man's distress was evident on his face, as was the distress on the faces of all his listeners.