Dawn broke over the land of Gondor and light slipped through the space in
the window and left a golden imprint on the edge of the large bed. All
else in the room was still, silent, heavy only the light breathing
disturbed the air. A soft uneasy sound from the frail body lying in the
murky light and in the darkness away from the window a deep shadow waited,
watched over the Ring Bearer, precious…precious he was to it.
"Only the Very Best…"
*********
Beroun, the guard outside the Hobbit's door, walked closer to his companion. Never yet had he seen the King or his companions close, now the Guards were being called to explain the rumours to the King himself.
The voices all around were talking, ahead on the throne the King stood deep in conversation with the wizard Gandalf, as they drew near they heard some snatches of conversation between the two.
"He has been through much yet…that he should suffer here is too much…he has saved us and I will not leave him to this…I should not have left him this long…"
The words stopped when the King's steely gaze fell on them.
"I have heard all that has been said, you have both kept watch over him, has anyone entered the chamber that you have not reported?"
The King's voice was soft, worried and suspious of the men. As he spoke Gandalf turned, his eyes burned in to the two guards, watching them as the first guard spoke taking in the man's appearance,
dark hair streaked through with grey, light grey eyes looking nervously into the Elessar's his battle hardened face earnest as he told of the voices whispering within the chamber, words he could not understand some what seemed to come from within his own head in a language he did not know, but always that feeling of unease, not cold but heat coming from within the chamber, so unlike all of the rooms within the city, the coolness permeating every inch of the rooms. As he spoke Gandalf felt his sense of misgiving growing, something was not right, his gaze stole over past Elessar and the rest of the Fellowship who stood silently worry etched on to each of their faces, for a second he studied each of them in turn. Gimli, strong, defiant that anything should touch Frodo, Legolas, tall his strong face showing concern and his clear blue eyes distant, searching as Gandalf himself was for anything not right. Minas Tirith has been untouched by the evil that had taken her sister city, and now that the evil was vanquished to see it start to make its presence felt here was disturbing. It was like river water, dirty, that had drained in to the earth only to move to somewhere new, untouched…innocent. Innocent, that word moved around in his brain, evil seemed drawn to innocence, first Bilbo, the Shire, then Frodo and now Minas Tirith. Not Minas Tirith, a voice in his head whispered, the evil had come with Frodo, it had been felt nowhere else. Shuddering he turned back to the faces of the Hobbits realising he had not been listening to the guards description. Quickly he tuned back in to the conversation, "…The women have been without sleep my Lord…th, they have been caring long for the Hobbit, they are tired overwrought my Lord…" Gandalf looked at the man speaking, nervous his hands playing with the long belt hung about his waist…afraid, by all things good, the man was afraid, not of Aragorn but someone else…no, something else, lurking, hiding in the shadows, nothing more than a shadow itself, jealous, bitter and full or anger and hatred *but what of? Frodo has been alone days now without his friends protection, and shadow however small could have harmed him before now…there is something I am not seeing…* As these thoughts ran through Gandalf's mind his eye was drawn to a small movement and whisper in the crowd. Merry stood by the throne still clad in his uniform, his brown eyes worried, small hands clutching tightly the silver tray he carried, the goblets still full of wine listening intently to the words of the guards, and beside him Pippin stared with the same curiousity that he had shown eversince the beginning. Once again Gandalf was struck with the strength of the Hobbits, for ones so small in stature they had coped with the horrors of the war with little more outward signs than nightmares, *the resilience of their spirits is amazing* Gandalf mused quietly.
Aragorn turned to the Wizard, calm grey met troubled blue ones.
"I think it is past time we visited our friend" Aragorn said, his voice clam determined but with an edge of worry that upset the mood the King had meant to have shown. In secret Aragorn was more worried than he had shown, Sauron himself lived still, that much he knew, the Ring's destruction would only lessen his power in the mortal world make him nothing more than a … shadow! Quickly Aragorn strode toward the door out of the Great Hall, fear growing with each second, praying he was not too late.
"Only the Very Best…"
*********
Beroun, the guard outside the Hobbit's door, walked closer to his companion. Never yet had he seen the King or his companions close, now the Guards were being called to explain the rumours to the King himself.
The voices all around were talking, ahead on the throne the King stood deep in conversation with the wizard Gandalf, as they drew near they heard some snatches of conversation between the two.
"He has been through much yet…that he should suffer here is too much…he has saved us and I will not leave him to this…I should not have left him this long…"
The words stopped when the King's steely gaze fell on them.
"I have heard all that has been said, you have both kept watch over him, has anyone entered the chamber that you have not reported?"
The King's voice was soft, worried and suspious of the men. As he spoke Gandalf turned, his eyes burned in to the two guards, watching them as the first guard spoke taking in the man's appearance,
dark hair streaked through with grey, light grey eyes looking nervously into the Elessar's his battle hardened face earnest as he told of the voices whispering within the chamber, words he could not understand some what seemed to come from within his own head in a language he did not know, but always that feeling of unease, not cold but heat coming from within the chamber, so unlike all of the rooms within the city, the coolness permeating every inch of the rooms. As he spoke Gandalf felt his sense of misgiving growing, something was not right, his gaze stole over past Elessar and the rest of the Fellowship who stood silently worry etched on to each of their faces, for a second he studied each of them in turn. Gimli, strong, defiant that anything should touch Frodo, Legolas, tall his strong face showing concern and his clear blue eyes distant, searching as Gandalf himself was for anything not right. Minas Tirith has been untouched by the evil that had taken her sister city, and now that the evil was vanquished to see it start to make its presence felt here was disturbing. It was like river water, dirty, that had drained in to the earth only to move to somewhere new, untouched…innocent. Innocent, that word moved around in his brain, evil seemed drawn to innocence, first Bilbo, the Shire, then Frodo and now Minas Tirith. Not Minas Tirith, a voice in his head whispered, the evil had come with Frodo, it had been felt nowhere else. Shuddering he turned back to the faces of the Hobbits realising he had not been listening to the guards description. Quickly he tuned back in to the conversation, "…The women have been without sleep my Lord…th, they have been caring long for the Hobbit, they are tired overwrought my Lord…" Gandalf looked at the man speaking, nervous his hands playing with the long belt hung about his waist…afraid, by all things good, the man was afraid, not of Aragorn but someone else…no, something else, lurking, hiding in the shadows, nothing more than a shadow itself, jealous, bitter and full or anger and hatred *but what of? Frodo has been alone days now without his friends protection, and shadow however small could have harmed him before now…there is something I am not seeing…* As these thoughts ran through Gandalf's mind his eye was drawn to a small movement and whisper in the crowd. Merry stood by the throne still clad in his uniform, his brown eyes worried, small hands clutching tightly the silver tray he carried, the goblets still full of wine listening intently to the words of the guards, and beside him Pippin stared with the same curiousity that he had shown eversince the beginning. Once again Gandalf was struck with the strength of the Hobbits, for ones so small in stature they had coped with the horrors of the war with little more outward signs than nightmares, *the resilience of their spirits is amazing* Gandalf mused quietly.
Aragorn turned to the Wizard, calm grey met troubled blue ones.
"I think it is past time we visited our friend" Aragorn said, his voice clam determined but with an edge of worry that upset the mood the King had meant to have shown. In secret Aragorn was more worried than he had shown, Sauron himself lived still, that much he knew, the Ring's destruction would only lessen his power in the mortal world make him nothing more than a … shadow! Quickly Aragorn strode toward the door out of the Great Hall, fear growing with each second, praying he was not too late.