Chapter 18: The Black Gate
A/N: This chapter follows the book rather closely, so it will be somewhat repetitive to those who are familiar with the scene (but not completely). I will not include specific citations for the quotes for this chapter (see pp. 165-177 and pp. 242-244). Please continue to review!
There were two hills before the Black Gate. The Captains, Aragorn, Imrahil, and Éomer, arranged their forces on the hills, with Aragorn and the Dúnedain on one and Imrahil and Éomer on the other. A small party on horseback prepared to ride forward. With Aragorn came Gandalf, the twin sons of Elrond, Legolas, Gimli, Pippin, and Seven. Aragorn would not have included Seven, but Gandalf spoke for her quietly.
"We represent all the races of Middle-earth here, but there is no one who may represent her. For that reason, I think you ought to include her." Aragorn assented, and so Seven rode with the others toward the black gate.
No one met their approach, and the banner-bearers unfurled it and blew trumpets. The heralds cried a challenge. "Come forth! Let the Lord of the Black Land come forth! Justice shall be done upon him. For wrongfully he has made war upon Gondor and wrested its lands. Therefore the King of Gondor demands that he should atone for his evils, and depart then for ever. Come forth!"
After a long silence, suddenly they heard from within the gates drums followed by trumpets. The Black Gate finally opened and a messenger came out. He was dressed all in black, riding an enormous black horse. The messenger introduced himself as the Mouth of Sauron. A few soldiers followed him, dressed in black and bearing a black banner with an Eye in red.
"Is there anyone in this rout with authority to treat with me? Or indeed with wit to understand me? Not thou at least!" As he turned to Aragorn, even Seven found her temper rising at the messenger's mocking tone. "It needs more to make a king than a piece of elvish glass, or a rabble such as this. Why, any brigand of the hills can show as good a following!" The 'elvish glass,' from which Aragorn had acquired the name Elessar, was a gift from the Lady Galadriel of Lothlórien. Seven had never met her, but had heard stories of the Elven Lady, who was one of the most powerful figures in Middle-earth.
Aragorn met the messenger's eye for a long moment without moving. The messenger flinched as if struck. "I am a herald and ambassador, and may not be assailed!" Even defending himself, the man's tone was overbearing.
Gandalf spoke for them all. "Where such laws hold, it is also the custom for ambassadors to use less insolence. But no one has threatened you. You have naught to fear from us, until your errand is done. But unless your master has come to new wisdom, then with all his servants you will be in great peril." Gandalf's voice was even, but Seven could hear the power ringing behind it, and confidence as well. With force of long habit, she kept her features expressionless and cool. Gimli seemed to settle down a little when he saw her impassive calm.
The messenger wasn't finished. "So! Then thou art the spokesman, old greybeard? Have we not heard of thee at whiles, and of they wanderings, ever hatching plots and mischief at a safe distance?" The messenger continued to insult Gandalf a bit more, then signaled one of his guards, who brought out a black bundle. The messenger unwrapped it and displayed a short sword, a grey cloak with an elegant leaf-shaped brooch, and a coat of chain mail than seemed to shimmer, even in the dim, red light.
For a moment, there was dead silence, then Pippin pushed forward with a cry of grief. Glancing over at Legolas and Gimli, Seven could see they recognized the items, too. The messenger laughed as Gandalf pushed Pippin back. "So you have yet another of these imps with you! What use you find in them I cannot guess. Still, I think him, for it is plan that this brat at least has seen these tokens before, and it would be vain for you to deny them now."
"I do not wish to deny them. But why do you bring them here?"
"Here are the marks of a conspiracy. Now, maybe he that bore these things was a creature that you would not grieve to lose, and maybe otherwise: one dear to you, perhaps? If so, take swift counsel with what little wit is left to you. For Sauron does not love spies, and what his fate shall be depends now on your choice."
The messenger searched their eyes, and saw the answer plainly. He threatened torture unless they accepted his terms.
Gandalf replied evenly, but grief was written on his face. "Name the terms." To the messenger, and his own forces, Gandalf looked already defeated.
"These are the terms." The Messenger had a perverse light in his eyes. He was enjoying this. "The rabble of Gondor and its deluded allies shall withdraw at once beyond the Anduin, first taking oaths never again to assail Sauron the Great in arms, open or secret. All lands east of the Anduin shall be Sauron's for ever, solely. West of the Anduin as far as the Misty Mountains and the Gap of Rohan shall be tributary to Mordor, and men there shall bear no weapons, but shall have leave to govern their own affairs. But they shall help rebuild Isengard which they have wantonly destroyed, and that shall be Sauron's, and there his lieutenant shall dwell: not Saruman, but one more worth of trust."
Seven listened to the terms without reaction, but inwardly a grim satisfaction grew stronger with every one of the ridiculous terms. The messenger dug himself a deeper hole with every word. Less ridiculous terms, and the Captains might have been tempted to listen seriously. A less mocking tone, and they might have given him more credence. This, however, was too ridiculous for consideration.
Gandalf knew it, too. "This is much to demand for the delivery of one servant: that your Master should receive in exchange what he must else fight many a war to gain! Or has the field of Gondor destroyed his hope in war, so that he falls to haggling? And if indeed we rated this prisoner so high, what surety have we that Sauron, the Base Master of Treachery, will keep his part? Where is this prisoner? Let him be brought forth and yielded to us, and then we will consider these demands."
For an instant, the messenger was caught off-guard. It was subtle, but despite her unfamiliarity with her own emotions, Seven had watched other humans extensively, and the indecision was clear on the messenger's face. After a split-second, the messenger recovered. "Do not bandy words in your insolence with the Mouth of Sauron! Surety you crave. Sauron gives none. If you sue for his clemency you must first do his bidding. These are his terms. Take them or leave them!"
Gandalf suddenly cast aside his cloak. White light shone from him as if he was its source. "These we will take in memory of our friend. But as for your terms, we reject them utterly. Get you gone, for your embassy is over and death is near to you. We did not come here to waste words in treating with Sauron, faithless and accursed; still less with one of his slaves. Begone!"
The messenger's features went through amazement, anger, and rage, like a cornered and wounded animal, before turning to fear. He jumped on his horse and flew back to the gate. As they fled, the black soldiers blew horns they carried, and the trap they all knew was coming was finally sprung.
With the others, Seven hurried back to the main force. Aragorn raised his banner, Tree and Stars glimmering in the dull light, and on the other hill Imrahil raise his Silver Swan, and Éomer the White Horse of Rohan. They ringed their forces on all sides of the hills. Seven stood with the Dúnedain in the front, facing the Black Gate where the assault would be worst. The Nazgûl swooped down from above, crying words of death with their eerie voices. Orcs, Men, and trolls streamed out of the Black Gates. The defenders braced themselves for the assault and fell to the fight with everything they had.
Seven quickly fell into a rhythm, the remnants of Borg technology giving her an edge as she hewed at the orcs. After a few minutes, she heard a voice, seemingly from nowhere. "Duck!" She did, and just in time. An arrow whizzed over her head. Standing up, she drove her sword into an Easterling soldier, cutting a line from stomach to chin. She kicked the body off her sword before replying.
"Q, what are you doing here?" Seven kept her voice soft, both to preserve energy and so she wouldn't be heard by the other defenders.
"Trying to keep you alive."
"Then why don't you join us?"
"I can't. I can't interfere directly with events in Middle Earth. Be careful!"
"Q?" Q was gone. Seven turned her full attention back to the fight, beheading an Orc and blocking a blow from another one as she did. She kicked the attacker hard, sending him sprawling into several others. She drove her sword down into the mass of Orcs, then stomped on one's face, bones breaking beneath her foot. They were outnumbered at least ten to one, but there was no time to fully assess the situation. She glanced over just in time to see Pippin stab a huge troll, but she quickly turned her attention back to her own fight.
Beside her, Seven heard Legolas cry, "The Eagles are coming!" The cry echoed through the forces, who renewed their efforts. The enemy glanced up, but continued to fight. Suddenly, the ground shook with a massive earthquake. The tight order of the attackers started to waver. The Eagles flew directly towards the Nazgûl, flying low over the battle, their shrieks competing with the Nazgûl voices, but the Ringwraiths suddenly screamed and fled back into Mordor. The enemy's ground forces paused, trembling; some dropped their weapons, others stared blankly. Seven used the opportunity to remove the heads of two orcs.
Regrouping, the Captains started an attack on the confused enemy, but Gandalf cried out, "Stand, Men of the West! Stand and wait! This is the hour of doom."* Another earthquake rocked the ground beneath them and the doors of the Black Gate fell, crushing many enemy forces.
"The realm of Sauron is ended!" Gandalf's voice rang across the battlefield. "The Ringbearer has fulfilled his Quest." Blackness spilled out across the sky, not spreading like a vapor, but holding close, filling the sky. It seemed to reach for them, and many cowered in fear, but a gust of wind came, and the black shape blew away like an insubstantial cloud. Sauron was gone.