A.N.: at the foot!
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Chapter eight: The Wrath of Sauron
"What's brave, what's noble
let's do it in high Roman fashion
and make death proud to take us." Antony and Cleopatra , Shakespeare.
@ Erech hills, March 9th 3019.
It was a good thing Aragorn had said Arien shouldn't go with them, Damon thought. He remembered quite well how distressed she had been in Moria – the Paths of Dead were worse, in a way. Absolutely dark except for the two torches that Aragorn and Elladan held, and the eerie glow of the spirits walking behind them, the paths were a dark, narrow passage cut in raw stone many millennia ago.
Not something he'd like to see her endure, if he could help it. No way he could give her soothing serum without raising suspicion or blowing the cover.
Yes, definitely a good thing she had gone to Antar instead.
Everybody experimented fear in some degree –the animals were terrified, Gimli the dwarf looked as if he was carrying a boggart on his lap, the men were shaking and walking only for the love they had for Aragorn. Who, Damon might add, looked even worse than he had when the company left the temple in the Hills. The human wasn't sleeping – at all. The slytherin was almost feeling sorry for him.
Almost.
'He better know what he is doing'.
Had Damon known of this in the battle of Helm's Deep, he would probably have included Aragorn in his probable gay guys roll of fame. The slytherin had not forgotten Aragorn for leaving them outside of the fortress yet, no matter what Arien said. But they had a mission to accomplish, and Damon took his duties very seriously.
" Legolas turning to speak to Gimli looked back and the Dwarf saw before his face the glitter in the Elf's bright eyes. Behind them rode Elladan, last of the Company, but not the last of those that took the downward road.
'The Dead are following,' said Legolas. 'I see shapes of Men and of horses, and pale banners like shreds of cloud, and spears like winter-thickets on a misty night. The Dead are following. " [1]
By the way, the blonde elf looked like a child who got lost in a candy store. He turned back on his mount and said 'The dead, the dead are following us!' as if it was the most exciting thing since elves (humph!) invented wine. Honestly.
Funny, those twins did remind him of someone...
"Friends," said Aragorn, "Forget your weariness ! We must reach the Stone of Erech before the end of the day, and we have a long road ahead of us."
They reached the Hill of Erech a little before midnight.
"Forsworn, why have thee come?" asked Aragorn.
"To fulfil our oath and have peace." Said an echo from far, far away.
"The time has come," continued Aragorn, "Now I go to the Pelargir, over the Anduin, and thou must follow me. And when these lands are free from Sauron's minions, I'll consider the oath fulfilled and thou may leave forever. For I am Elessar, heir of Isildur of Gondor."
With that he ordered Halbarad to open his banner, but the banner was as black as the night and none could see what inscriptions it held. And with the dawn they left in great hurry.
And the dead followed.
Arien better hold her end of the deal.
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@ Minas Tirith, Gondor. March 9th of 3019.
It was a terrible thing, to be caught between two cunning old men, Pippin thought.
For one whole hour, Lord Denethor interrogated him tirelessly, using the disguise of his fatherly love to grab any information about the Company he could. And in spite of his inexplicable affection for the old man, in that hobbit's simple mind one thought was marked as if in iron.
You must protect Frodo. You must help Aragorn. You cannot let Gandalf down.
It was very terrible a thing, to be caught between those two.
"Are you mad at me, Gandalf? I did my best." The hobbit said when he left the throne room.
"You really did! Laughed Gandalf. The wizard approached Pippin, and put his arm over the halfling's shoulder, while gazing through the window. "And in spite of it, Denethor knew more through you than you may think. You could not hide that Boromir didn't lead the Company when they left Moria, or that among you travelled a man of great honour, and that he was coming to Minas Tirith, neither that this man carries a famous sword. Lord Denethor has a strong will. Pippin. It is hard to fool him, and dangerous to try. Remember this! Now you owe him allegiance. I don't know what made you do that, but I didn't stop you. Generous actions should not be stilled by cold counsels. Beware! You are now under his command, and he won't forget it."
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@ Antares, Antar. March 9th of 3019.
The Blue Palace was in uproar.
The War Council was called again, with the return of Arien, and they were arguing about the suitable courses of action since she walked – or stormed – into the halls of the government palace.
The Comyn wing of the wizard bureau was there, with the obvious exception of Damon – Arien, Uliana, Selton and Elorie. The seven governors were there, along with the general of the Antarian army, Thelor, the Queen herself and the president of the senate (a waste of space in Arien's opinion...).
"You can't be serious on this, lady Arien. Do you honestly think the great Republic of Antar should lend his army to our former enemies?" the senator asked.
Arien shot him a look.
**"death to all bureaucrats. What the fuck this old bat is doing here?"
**'Standard procedure. There must be a member of the senate here to validate the decision.' Selton replied.
**'That guy actually has a vote?'
**'Yes, he does.'
**'Fuck.'
"Yes, I think. Can you offer me a valid reason why we should not or are you going to ramble on about my flaws?"
"Hiril nîn, " Queen Aimé interrupted before the famous temper of the witch rose again, "I sent you because I thought it would solve the problem. You and hir nîn Damon are some of our most powerful wizards and certainly this is not something out of your league."[3]
The senator looked quite pleased. Arien took a long breath. The governors were rather interested in that contest of wills.
"We do not wish to divulge our position as wizards, milady. If released, this information would certainly add up to the ancestral fear between ourselves and the other races of Middle-earth, possibly leading to another word war. A war in which it would be all of them against us."
"What's the novelty of that?" asked Verlat, sniggering. "It has always been the rest of them against ourselves."
Arien had never wanted to scream more than in that moment. Fortunately Selton came to her rescue.
"That was when we didn't have Antar, Verlat."
"Exactly, we are safe here within the great walls of the republic—"
"Can you SHUT THE FUCK UP???" Arien yelled. "Do you even listen to yourself, dammit? You are willing to call the war to our lands and our homes, instead of the lands of another country, allowing our fields and woods being destroyed in the war and all? Fuck! Tell me again why I hate bureaucrats."
"You shall observe proper language within these walls, lady Arien." Reprimanded Verlat coolly.
"No, I shall not!" she spat back at him, not in the least bit repentant. "You just don't want to understand, " she sighed and ran her hand through her hair, this was going to be one looooong meeting. "if we do not defeat Sauron, he will turn to us as soon as his historical enemies are down. The Easterlings are already coming to our doors to prove my point here."
The senator shifted in his seat.
"But they can defeat Sauron on their own." Said another governor, Altarion.
"No," she said with more self-control. "They can't. The rohirrim are still recovering from the battle of Helm's Deep, they lost many men there and fought absurdly outnumbered. And they also have to guard their own borders. The gondorians are fighting with Sauron's forces for centuries and have their numbers greatly reduced. And these are the greatest kingdoms around, the others are just feuds. No, Gondor will fall. And after Gondor, Rohan and the western human kingdoms are down, Sauron will turn his eyes elsewhere. And then we are doomed."
"Sunny ray of light you are." Whispered Uliana.
"I still don't see why we should send our soldiers to the outside world." Pointed the senator, Poldon.
"The last time we met, you said we could hold ourselves in a confront, Arien. That it was only a preventive measure, to avoid it coming here." Wondered Aimé.
"That was before I saw the situation. Sauron wanted to take the rohirrim out of the game, and he sent an army of fifteen thousand to destroy them. Fifteen thousand, and it wasn't even the major force, it was only a little something to disable a potential ally. Do you have any idea of the army he has gathered for the major strike? And when Gondor, weakened and alone, falls, what do you think he'll use that army for?"
Silence.
"What about the elven kingdoms?" asked Aimé at last.
"Isolated, and sure as hell doomed if the ring goes back to Sauron."
"The One Ring?" asked the marshal Meldon. "But it was lost in the second age!"
"Beginning of third." Arien corrected him. Modern history was not familiar to antarians, for obvious reasons. "And it has been found. A hobbit is on his way to Mordor as we speak, to cast the ring in the volcano and destroy it."
"hobbit? What's a hobbit?" asked Thelor. Arien proceeded to explain to him they were creatures related to humans, but shorter than dwarves, with hairy feet and peaceful character.
"So it will be destroyed." Asked Polton, but his voice held a great deal of doubt.
"Theoretically. Even without the ring Sauron's forces will still be out to the kill. And several things can go wrong. The ring can corrupt him, or he can be caught, and then the ring returns to its master, who will have his full strength back again. Then the elven rings which protect the greater elven kingdoms will lose their power – or worse yet, will be under the One Ring's influence."
"Which concerns us because..." asked Verlat. Gods, the guy was absolutely insufferable!
"Guess who's next? And can you tell me that we can handle a fully fledged Sauron? Because I can't." she spat. Turning to the queen, the young witch raised an eloquently exasperated eyebrow. "Aimé, you gave me carte blanche. I need an army."
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@Temple in the Hills, Rohan. March 9th of 3019.
The king's company reached the temple with the dusk, and many men left their shelters behind the rocks. Horns were blown and many joyful voices cried in the air, "The king Theoden! The king returned!"
And there in the temple in the Hills, the king Theoden found gathered his forces. Dunhere, captain of the people in the Harg Valley, came to meet him.
"Three days before, at dawn, milord," he said, "Shadowfax arrived at Edoras with the speed of the wind, and Gandalf told us of your victory, warming our hearts. But he also said to hasten the gathering of the riders. And then the shadow with wings came."
"The shadow with wings? But we saw it too, only that it was before Gandalf left."
"That may be, milord, but the same, or other like it, flew over Edoras drowning our hearts in fear. Then Gandalf told us not to stay at the open fields, but meet you here in the valley of the mountains. And he told us to light fire only in extreme need- he spoke with great authority, and we all trusted him."
"So be it –'twas better this way. I will enter the fortress and rest, but before I shall meet my captains and marshals. I want to see them as soon as possible!"
Ad Theoden rode into hornburg with his company and the captains who had come to him. The army was camping around the road who led to the Temple, and it was a long way up, tortuous and hard to climb, designed so that an army could not conquer the building on the top if there was anyone to defend it above. The rocks were eroded and dark, their carvings lost forever. And on the top, more tents were seen, among the statues of stone they called púkel-men, who were long forgotten –no song nor tale celebrated them. They lived in the first age, in the dark days, before any ship came from west, or Gondor were built. In the end of the pathway was a high platform, were a soldier awaited clad in metal –but merry realised the soldier was in fact a woman, her long hair braided in the twilight.
"Hail, Lord of the Riddermark!" she cried. "My heart is overjoyed with your return."
"And you, Eowyn." Said Theoden with clear affection in his voice. "How fares thee?"
"All is well. Some said harsh words, for it was long since war drove us from our houses, but no harsh actions. All is in order, as you may see, milord. And your quarters are ready, as you see –we were aware of your arrival."
"So Aragorn was here. Is he here yet?"
"No. He is gone." And she turned her eyes to the Southeast.
"You are sad, child. Did he speak of the path?"
"Yes. I could not dissuade him. And he went into the shadows no man ever walked out from. He is gone."
The riders went minding their own business, resting and looking after the horses, gears and weapons; and Merry thought it was time to get something for his long-neglected stomach. However, as the king's courier, he was called to serve the table. The atmosphere was so thick and sad it took some time for Theoden to realise the hobbit was still standing (and still starving. "Come master Meriadoc! Sit by me and warm my heart with stories."
There were no stories, however. The issue of the fate of Aragorn hung ominously among them. Dinner lingered not for its comfort, but for their sadness.
"A tall man entered, and Merry choked back a cry; for a moment it seemed that Boromir was alive again and had returned. Then he saw that it was not so; the man was a stranger, though as like to Boromir as if he were one of his kin, tall and grey-eyed, and proud." [2]
Gondor sent the Red Arrow to Rohan.
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@ Sea of Rhûn Coast, Wasteland. March 10th of 3019.
Selton scanned the horizon. Not a soul in miles.
Had it been only yesterday Arien had broken into the capitol absolutely berserk about the impending war in Gondor? It seemed so long ago... but then again, that infamous little thing was born with the power to make things happen faster than their usual pace. Selton smiled. He had missed her more than he should in a parting so brief.
The gryffindor wizard remembered only too well the havoc Arien had caused when she appeared in Antares a few hours after dawn – apparating, of course; after all she had her destination in mind rather than being chasing clues in the wilderness – and plainly requested from the Queen that an army should be sent to Gondor to face Sauron's forces. And she got it. She actually got it.
Unbelievable.
Of course the army could not be overly large –they had to protect themselves as well. One-third of the wizards had been called to go to Gondor while the rest stayed to defend the borders. The War Council was put in red alert. And a seven and a half thousand renegade army – what could be gathered in the twelve hours deadline Arien had determined, leaving the city with most of the population on their guards for a possible battle on the walls or on their shores - was sent under his leading to Gondor, to strike whatever random company they might find in their way to Antar. They should reach Minas Tirith in a desperate race against time. And as they were mostly 'Muggles' (they really had to find another noun to non-magical, that muggle thing was clearly created to offend) they were riding horses.
Which meant they would take at least three days. The animals needed rest, even when the renegades didn't.
He, Selton, hadn't believed in the powers of the Dark Lord. But Arien was a truthful person, if more than a bit reckless and also hasty in her decisions. He thought it was only a large amount of orcs they'd have to slain before the monsters threatened their homeland.
Until today. The day the sun itself was covered under a dark cloud –or mist, or whatever –so dense no light passed through. They had seen it coming, but it was far, far away, a dark space hanging over Mordor, and it seemed appropriate somehow. But that day, March 10th , the sun hadn't broke through the thick black cloud, and with the utter darkness came a nameless fear, a fear of something utterly terrible and evil. And the fear tightened his heart (and his throat) for the first time since the first age, since he was only a little half-elfling running through the woods of East Beleriand, trying to find a safe spot where no one could hurt him ever again. He remembered clearly the day the rumours caught him, hiding in the trees, how they had taken pity over them and helped the renegades world-wide spreading the news of their new-born nation.
On his side, the Ravenclaw nodded indicating that they should urge their soldiers faster. None of them wanted to arrive and find the city already under siege.
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@Temple in the Hills, Rohan. March 10th of 3019.
"I won't stay behind to be picked on the way back. I won't, I won't!" rambled Merry when he went to sleep. His sleep was short-lived an agitated, filled with images of dark riders and dark passages in the rocks, and of concern over his friends. Before his backs could get over the pain he acquired on the long horseback ride, a man shook him awake.
"Wake up master holbytlan!"
"Whassammattar?"
"The king calls you."
"But the sun hasn't risen yet."
"No, and it won't rise today, master holbytlan. And never again, one could assume under this cloud. But the time is still running, even when the sun is lost. Come!"
When Merry left his tent he faced a world immersed in darkness – like a hobbit home when you turn off all the lights. The look in the face of people was of fright and terror, the sky above them was black, not a cloud was seen, and the very air seemed to be black. The hobbit made his way to the king, hearing the last words of the gondorian messenger's speech.
"It comes from Gondor, milord. It started yesterday, at dusk. I saw it behind me, devouring even the sparkle of the stars. now the great darkness stretches from the Misty Mountains to this lands – the war has started."
The king Theoden was silent for a long moment, then spoke: "So we met it. The great war of our time, in which many will perish. But at least there is no more need for secrecy, we'll take the straight road, and in the open road in full speed. The gathering of our troops must take place immediately, not waiting for whomever may be late. Do you have full reserves at Minas Tirith? for if we must ride at full speed, then we must travel light, with only food and drink to last till the battle."
"We have plenty of them, prepared long ago. go now with as light and swiftly as possible!" replied Hirgon, before leaving. Éomer went off blowing the horns and giving orders to his captains, and the king spoke to Merry – who had been quiet in a corner waiting for his turn.
"I go to war, Master Meriadoc." He said, and in his eyes there was so much conflicting emotions Merry could not decide what he was feeling, "I'll take the road soon. But I forswear you from your service, if not of my affection. You must remain here, and if you wish, help Lady Eowyn who will rule my people."
"But my Lord," Merry argued, thinking of all his friends who were there "I offered you my sword. I do not wish to part from you this way, king Theoden. And all my friends have gone to battle, I would be ashamed if I stood behind."
"We ride horses who are fast and strong." Replied the king. "And thought your courage is great, you cannot ride like that."
"Then carry me! For I will go running if I cannot ride, even if I get there several weeks late."
Merry was so upset he forgot observing the proper rules of behaviour. But Theoden didn't mind, the little holbytla was very dear to him, and acted that way out of his love and loyalty.
They reached Edoras at noon, as the temple had no way out of the mountains but that road, and another no one dared to walk but Aragorn. There again Merry begged to go with their company, and there again Theoden denied his plea with a heavy heart. But a knight approached him silently in the chaos of parting soldiers and preparations to war. Quietly the knight spoke, "When will wants not, a way opens; so we say, and I found it true myself. You wish to follow the Lord of the Riddermark, and I see it in your eyes."
"Indeed I wish." He answered.
"Then I will take you. You will go sitting with me in my saddle, until we are far away and this darkness even darker. Do not tell a word, but come!"
"I am immensely grateful, thought I know not your name."
"You do not? Then call me Dernhelm."[5]
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@ Minas Tirith, Gondor. March 12th of 3019.
Faramir had been sent to Osgiliath yesterday, and Pippin was beside himself with worry.
Not only he had watched the two most stubborn, strong-willed old men he knew battling with their wills –again – but he also saw a very proud, very honourable man being sent to what could be called nothing but certain death. How could they, a bunch of rangers, resist to the onslaught from Mordor that would certainly come from there?
Today the darkness was absolute and news started to come to the city. The passage of the Anduin had been taken, they said. Faramir was withdrawing with what forces he could gather.
"If he makes it through Pelennor, the enemy will be on his heels. They paid for crossing it, but less than we thought –the attack was planned long ago, and they had boats and bridges secretly built. But that's the Black Rider who defeats us, few can handle even the rumour of his arrival. His own folk fears him." Said the messenger.
"They need me there more than here." Said Gandalf, leaving immediately to aid Faramir at Osgiliath.
@ Minas Tirith, Gondor. March 13th of 3019.
The belts rang signalling the beginning of a new day, and in the distance the people of Minas Tirith saw balls of flame being thrown against the walls of Pelennor.
"They took the walls! They're coming!" cried the sentinels.
"Where is Faramir?" asked another.
Gandalf arrived in the city a few hours later. With wagons carrying the wounded and all that could be saved from Osgiliath. The Istar went immediately after the steward of the city, who was in his White Tower Room.
"Has Faramir come with you?" asked Denethor.
"No," Gandalf replied with a sigh, "HE stood behind to avoid the withdrawal became a chaotic flight. "Maybe he can keep his men together for the necessary amount of time, but I doubt it. He is seized by an enemy too powerful."
"Not the dark Lord?" asked Pippin, full of fright.
Denethor laughed – and it was cold and grim, with no joy or life-, "No, not yet, Master Peregrin! He won't come, until it is to laugh of me when all is lost. He uses others as his pawns –that's what great Lords do, if they are wise. For what other reason would I be here, sitting in my tower and waiting, watching and planning; risking even my sons? For I can still wield a sword."
Denethor stood up and opened his long black cloak, and Pippin could see he had a sword . "Thus have I walked, and thus for many years now I have slept. Otherwise the body grows weak and timid."
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In the dark they rode hard, their destination less than a day ahead. Nevertheless the renegades were restless, as if sensing a great evil that was not supposed to be there, and that fear urged them to ride till their animals became exhausted. Only the great affection between mare and master made that trip possible.
Most of the day was past them, and they'd be in Minas Tirith before dawn. But their senses captured the source of the evil they'd been feeling all along, a few miles on their left, in the east, and Selton ordered the army to go there.
If that was a taste of what Sauron could do, Selton vowed to make his damned best it never reached Antar.
A great city of men lay in ruins before them, while an absurd number of orcs, haradrim men and easterlings for good measure, savagely attacked a company of men that couldn't count more than five hundred. So Arien wasn't kidding when she said they were greatly reduced. For a second he tried to decide if they should defend the city or merely escort the men back to where their main forces should be gathered.
There was a main force, right? Right?
"We have to sacrifice this city. Let's take them back to Minas Tirith!" he shouted at last. Arien nodded in acquiescence, leading her company to the rescue.
Good thing Arien was a wanderer. He had no way of knowing the earth had changed so much. Most of the mountains he was used to had changed, rivers had disappeared and others had appeared. He'd take months to find out where Minas Tirith was.
They invaded the city in one single wave, forcing the enemy to retreat. It was no small feat, because the orcs were as persistent as they were stupid and the men of Harad and Sunland were equally –or more- determined on destroying their opponents.
Sunland men fought with spears and short swords, while haradrim fought with crossbows and recurved sword annoyingly alike the ones orcs used. Arrows flew in the dark, and the metallic sound of swords meeting was heard all over, the arrival of the renegades brought a new hope to the company in Osgiliath.
Selton retrieved his sword from one of the easterlngs, while looking around to evaluate the situation. It was bad, he thought. Very bad. They just kept coming, there was no way they could defend such an open area. Not without an army of many tens of thousands.
"Prepare the retreat!" he yelled, trusting his captains would make the arrangements.
In the corner of his eye he saw Arien running through the enemies, trying to communicate with the men. She was a living miracle. All her family killed by humans and she still treated them without any resentment. Suddenly she cried in Antarian, "I found them! Prepare the path!"
"Who's in charge here?" Arien cried to the closest man.
"Captain Faramir of Gondor, milady." The soldier replied, without stopping the fight.
"Where is he?"
"At the back, in our rearguard. He stood behind to control the withdrawal."
"We must leave immediately. This city is lost for us, and these men are needed to defend the white city. Gather what troops you can, and tell them we are going back to Minas Tirith."
The soldier hesitated for only one second, before nodding and going away searching for his companions. Arien continued her search. "Who of you is Faramir?" she yelled at a small group of men fighting together a small crowd of easterlings and orcs.
Sword may be her weapon of choice, but let's face it, arrows will work much more efficiently here. Quickly standing on what she called to herself as the look-at-me-I'm-on-tv! position- knees slightly bent, feet parallel and separated, shoulders aligned with her knees and straight, head slightly inclined and bow arm stretched but not painfully so, while the arrow-hand easily found the anchor point between her canines (it's a point of reference for archers) she began shooting madly at the little crowd.
Truth to be said, she was not an excellent archer –her time on earth made her somewhat loose that ability. She was okay, thought; and much better on hand-to-hand combat – and even better on wand-to-wand, but that was not the place for that. They needed five minutes to clear the area – a large street, leading to a park and surrounded by many houses made of stone and wood – so finally one of them could speak to her.
"I am Faramir. Who looks for him?" said a tall man with dark brown hair and grey eyes.
"My name is Arien, I was sent to help you by Antar. Now come, we must leave this place immediately before the chance is taken away from us. All else you may ask me on our way back."
The man regarded her sceptically but apparently believed her reasons. The onslaught would be resumed any time and Osgiliath was too vulnerable, they all knew that.
"Prepare to leave!" he cried, watching as his men ran to follow his lead. Soon the company was set and ready, even as the enemy continued to attack, relentlessly. When the company of rangers reached the gates of Osgiliath they saw the numbers of their rescuers, and left out a relieved sigh.
Thousands of warriors clad in metallic armours, heavily armed and proud-looking, stood protecting their way out of that inferno. The few wounded they had were put on horses with the newcomers, and the others were invited to do so as well- they should cover the distance with more speed riding.
"I do appreciate your aid, milady."
Arien turned to the young captain of Gondor. "You have questions and the road is somewhat long ahead of us. Is there anything you'd want to ask me?"
"How did you know we needed aid? Who sent you?"
"Red company to the rearguard! Keep them at bay!" she whispered to Pyrr on her left, who rode to do as she said. "Nobody sent us here, and we had no warning you might need help in Osgiliath. I met Gandalf recently, and was with Aragorn and Theoden in Rohan fighting against the orcs of Saruman. It was Gandalf who told us that war would reach Gondor and we split forces in our way in – Aragorn took his rangers one way, Theoden came to gather his army at Edoras and I returned to get help in our country. We were on our way to the White Tower when we saw you were in trouble."
"Those are wonderful news, captain Arien. And then I must thank you in double – for coming to our aid in Gondor and for going out of your path to help us. My father will be most pleased with this. We didn't think the elves would come to war."
Selton, wisely, chose to stay silent. The other riders followed his example and kept riding, impassibly. Arien let out a little laugh. "I see. But I think the rest of the tale can wait till Minas Tirith. Onward! The Wraith is behind us."
The Wraith, apparently, wasn't at all glad at their arrival. The beast released his dreadful powers, making many men shiver on their saddles, although they didn't completely despair, and the elves did not stop their march because of him. The magical weapons kept the haradrin, sunlandings, orcs and the wraith at a respectable distance, while the army rode at full speed to the city of minas Tirith, going past the destroyed walls of the Pelennor.
Five and a half hours later, they reached the gates of the city, blowing their war horns and unfolding their banners – they had a flag alright, silver fox against red; but the horn had been a little difficult to find. The enemies were still a good two leagues away from them, and the rearguard held them off while the majority of the force entered the city, then ran swiftly through the gates so the men could close it before their foes invaded like ants.
They arrived at Minas Tirith in the middle of the night, only the dim light of the fire illuminating the lands as the darkness engulfed the light from the moon and the stars. Faramir lead them to the second ring, where the army could camp and rest for a while from their race, while Arien and Selton were lead to the Throne Room to speak to the Steward of the White City.
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Denethor prided at letting very few things surprise him. However, seeing his younger son coming back from Osgiliath after they all had begun to count them as dead, bringing with him –or was it the other way around? – a large army of elves to their rescue certainly did.
However, Denethor did not trust hope much. He had fought with the will of Sauron many years, and seen glimpses of the power the Dark Lord had prepared for them, gondorians, hated enemies of forgotten time, when one of them, Isildur, dared to face him one-on-one as if he was not a mortal and Sauron a maia. And Isildur cut the Ring of power from Sauron's hand, forcing him to flee and assuring the army of the Alliance the victory over that one battle. Only Sauron would not be completely defeated –not as long as the ring still existed.
On his left side stood his squire, Peregrin, and on his right one that annoying old bat called Mithrandir, who thought he was Lord in Gondor. Ha! As if. Before him stood three tall figures, taller than his son –who was very tall in the accounts of men, being almost six feet tall – clad in silver and green, their ensign embroidered in their cloaks and shirts, a silver fox against crimson.
They were the strangest elves Denethor could possibly envision. It was quite obvious enough that they had seen many things, one could say it just by looking in their eyes. Their features, however, were odd – the first had dirty blonde hair and grey eyes, the other had dark hair and eyes and the third – a female – had red hair and dark blue eyes.
"Greetings," said the blonde one, putting his clenched hand over his heart, "milord."
"Greetings," said Denethor, keeping his expression blank. Which strange people would say 'greetings'? "I must tell you the news surprised me. I never thought the elves would come to aid Gondor."
Fortunately she was with Pyrr and Selton, Arien thought. Damon's restraint on that particular sore spot was growing thin every passing day.
"The elves have problems protecting their own borders, milord." Arian answered, trying to decide whether to tell everything and get rid of the burden. If it was up to her, she'd let it on the open and face problems with her head held up high –and then again, the world had changed so much they were probably worrying over nothing.
Denethor kept his gaze on them – a most disturbing thing. When did humans got so piercing gazes?
Her battalion would not pass as elves as soon as Legolas reached the city with the twins.
"We are Peredhil, from the lands of Antar far in the north-east." She said, and Gandalf shifted the weight from one foot to the other. Thanks to the charms they cast on him, he would be their best friend until it went absolutely against his soul, in that case Gandalf would stand up for what he held dear. But as far as they were friendly, they got along fine. And Arien had no intention of tickling that one dragon.
No way in hell she'd teach or use the Imperius curse in Middle Earth.
"Peredhil? I didn't know there were any. Much less a battalion of them! And here, within the walls of the white city. Why is that?"
"There are quite a few of us." Arien kept going, ignoring the Pyrr's unease on her left. What the hell, the elves are sailing west anyway.
Selton took the leading then, as it was diplomatic mission, and that he could do much better than Arien. "We live north-east, as Arien said, and there we saw the shadow growing strong in these lands. The Queen told us to do anything we could so this situation was solved ... in a definite fashion. So here we are. We rode since the dusk, three days ago. We feared to find the walls under blockade already –and in fact, it won't take too long for your enemies to isolate us."
"Ah, yes." Denethor sighed, and the renegades felt an icy grip on their hearts. This was not a nice fellow, not then at least. "I presume you knew of this Gandalf."
Pippin nearly jumped off his feet, then, when Denethor turned to meet Gandalf's eyes. But the Istar stood his ground, with an innocent smile. "I knew lady Arien to be a peredhil, but I did not know she would bring any reinforcements, Lord Denethor. Often fate brings us unexpected gifts."
"I see. And will you defend this city with us?" the steward asked the trio.
"Yes, milord. We will defend this city against the dark lord, unless we ride out to meet his forces in the very lands of Mordor. But that depends on how the war develops. We came to defeat him definitely." Selton answered.
"A very modest goal, milord." Denethor smiled coldly, and they saw he had been somewhat enraged to discover they could leave to face the forces of Sauron. All he was concerned was the safety of his people, for so long threatened, and an all open attack was absolutely folly in his opinion. "But before that, you'll have to open your way through the hundreds of thousands foes who are gathered before our gates as we speak. And to that, if your trip was as hard as your companion said, even you shall have to rest. My captain Beleg will provide you some food and shelter for the night. We will meet again at the first hours of the morning. Now I bid you farewell."
The renegades bowed and left the room, lead by a dark-haired soldier, shorter than Faramir. When the door was closed, Denethor turned to his young son and to the wizard, and said, "Now, tell me what you know of these peredhil."
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The next day, the army Sauron had gathered for himself was seen in full – and it was huge, an army to destroy all things that were beautiful and grew. There was little chance any realm could resist to their advance.
The enemy marched slowly, protecting themselves from the peredhil archers who were ready on the walls, waiting to see if they could take some of the evil soldiers down.
The orcs and southern men brought with them large machines and used them to throw big projectiles which exploded before landing on the ground, causing focus of fire across the first ring. And after them, they threw the heads of the gondorians who had fallen in Rammas, Osgiliath, and in other places.
The Nazgûl came and went, throwing despair over the city. But not as much as they wanted, for the lord of Minas Tirith had a pulse of steel, and his son had the heart of the gondorians as well as much bravery, and the renegades stood proud on the walls, as if the Wraiths were nothing and the army before them had not hundreds of thousands.
And all this Sauron saw from his Dark tower, using his dark magic; and it much angered him.
And was the day and the night, the first day of the siege.
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@ Minas Tirith, Gondor. March 15th of 3019.[7]
The sentinels over the walls gave the first alarm : "The rohirrim are coming! Make path for the rohirrim!"
But how to make path for the rohirrim was another story altogether. They were mustered, hundreds of thousands around them, orcs and dunlendings and haradrins and other barbarians of the tribes in the south. And the forces of Rohan had no more than five thousand soldiers, they would not get anywhere close to the gates of the city.
And indeed they did not. All they accomplished was attracting the fury of the impatient army gathered outside the white city's high walls, being swiftly surrounded in a wave of terror, blood, and murder. Finally the gates were opened and the city forces pushed back the Mordor army, so the rohirrim could pass.
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A.N.:
[1] quote from ROTK.
[2] idem. The red arrow is, from what I understood, a pleading for aid – something like our S.O.S signal.
[3] Hir nîn – milord, My Lord. Hiril nîn- Milady , My lady.
[4] in the actual lineage, Aredhel is the daughter of Fingolfin, who was brother to Finarfin; but to make this fanfiction I made her switch places... forgive me please? :c)
[5] the name means Helm of the secret. (it's in the books, but I thought I should point out...)
[6] movie quote – that should be Legolas speaking to Aragorn at helm's deep, when they made peace.
[7] I must confess it was quite hard to calculate the number of the army in the white city. I took them out of the chapter the last debate (? – remember I have the Portuguese version) where Aragorn talks to the captains and says he would leave the city with 7 thousand men and still leave the city more well guarded than when they entered. He said four thousand would come marching from the Pelargir, and some were already arriving; Eomer took one thousand to go to Mordor and Three thousand would remain, Imrahil would lead three and a half thousand men, (though he only brought seven hundred). And Tolkien says the reinforcements from other lands to Gondor didn't sum three thousand. (when Pippin is watching the soldiers' entrance). All in all, I calculated with the renegade army and the rohirrim the total would be somewhere around 31,000 strong.
I thought this might help you guys a bit. =]
Lúthien=Beren Finarfin=Eärwen
| |
Idril=Tuor Galadriel + Aredhel [4] + Finrod + Orodreth + Angror + Aegnor
| =Celeborn =Glaucus Antonius
Earendil=Elwing | |
| | |
Elros + Elrond = Celebrian Andrea + Arien
--(forbear of Aragorn) |
| Elladan + Elrohir + Arwen Undómiel
|___________________à =Aragorn