Disclaimer: Based on 'The Lord of the Rings', by JRR Tolkien. This is a non-commercial work. No infringement of copyright is intended.
"Window of the Sunset" is the fourth in the
Broken Fellowship Series. It is
strongly recommended that you read the previous stories first.
The Broken Fellowship, Book IV:
Window of the Sunset
Chapter 8: Henneth Annûn
by Lizardbeth Johnson
At first, Sam was frozen still, like a rabbit once an eagle's claws had grabbed it. He had no idea who had found him, whether friend or enemy, if he had any friends other than Legolas here.
"What are you?" the man asked.
That did it. Sam turned over, incensed. "What do you mean, 'what am I?' Haven't you ever seen a hobbit before?" He saw a man wearing a brownish cloak with a black scarf across his face, a bow across his back and a sword unsheathed in one hand.
The dark brows frowned. "Hobbit? Some sort of spy for Mordor, I'd say. Get up." He gestured with his sword.
"Spy? For Mordor? Me?" Sam repeated incredulous at the accusation.
Then another voice came from behind the man, and the sound was a welcome relief. When Sam looked, he saw Legolas step out from the concealing brush, his bow drawn. "The hospitality of Gondor has faded in recent years, I see. Step away from him, Gondorian. Reluctant as I am to fire upon an ally, I assure you at this range I cannot miss."
The Gondorian, if such he was, stepped back and turned to see who threatened him. As Sam scrambled to his feet and drew Sting, he was rewarded by the Gondorian's surprise. "You're an elf!"
Legolas lowered his bow, though no one would be fool enough to think he couldn't have it drawn again and fired in less than a heartbeat. His lips turned up in a faint sneer. "I have always thought mortals were more clever than they seemed."
The Gondorian ignored or missed the insult, and glanced back at Sam, confused. "Then he's with you? What is he, your servant?"
Sam drew himself up, annoyed by this ignorant Big Folk. But Legolas got in the retort first, smirking at the Human, "Maybe I'm his." His gaze slipped to Sam, bright with mischief. "Are you well, Master?"
Sam almost couldn't answer, taken by surprise, but then played along, delighted to toy with the human. "Yes, thank you." He resheathed Sting, brushed the dirt from his clothes and looked up at his friend. "I think we should be on our way."
"Certainly, Master. I recommended you not follow me, remember?" Legolas asked, very politely, and Sam felt his face get hot at the reminder.
The Gondorian looked between them, confused and still not quite believing them. He fumbled for a safer topic of conversation. "How did you know I hail from Gondor?"
"Those were Haradrim," Legolas observed, and nodded toward the west, "were they not? They have long been servants of Sauron. Only an enemy of Mordor would fire upon them. Besides, I know of the Dúnedain of Ithilien."
The Gondorian ranger nodded. "What brings an elf and a ... hobbit so far from their homes?"
"That is our business," Legolas replied, and the merry light vanished from his eyes to be replaced by a cold and implacable glare. "You would do well not to interfere with it."
The Gondorian met his gaze and his hand tightened on his sword. "I do not think my captain would agree."
"Do not be a fool," Legolas murmured in warning. He didn't move at all, but his suddenly expressionless face as he watched the human put Sam in mind of a cat watching a bird that had alighted within reach.
The human was rather more brave than smart, Sam thought, as he pursued the topic. "I have never heard of elves in the service of Mordor, but you do not belong here," the Gondorian stated. "I must insist that you both come with me, so my captain can question you."
All three of them heard a rustling coming up the ridge and Legolas turned, bow raised and drawn. He fired the instant a strange helmet came into view, and the enemy fell back with a cry.
"Back! Move back!" he ordered both Sam and the Gondorian, who traded his sword for his bow. Nonetheless Legolas had fired twice more before the ranger fired once, as the elf covered their retreat.
More of the strangely armored enemy soldiers climbed the rise and were felled by arrows from the ranger and Legolas.
The first wave ended, and the Gondorian glanced at the elf urgently. "We must leave this place. We have a refuge. I offer it to you and your companion."
Legolas glanced at Sam and then to the west, where even Sam could hear the rustlings of other enemy soldiers and shouts.
"I swear to your safe conduct," the Gondorian added hastily. "On my honor."
"Then lead on. Sam, after him. Go! They are coming."
Sam turned, reluctantly following the Gondorian, and glanced back once to make sure Legolas was there. He had not moved yet. He fired four more times, felling more of the enemy as they came into view, and then ran after the ranger and Sam.
The sound of pursuit faded as the three raced through the forest.
The Gondorian slowed to make sure the two were following. "I apologize for before," he said. "It was... unexpected to find others in a place we thought was deserted. I am Mablung."
"Legolas," the elf introduced himself briefly, "of the north. This is Samwise Gamgee, of the Shire of the halflings."
"A halfling?" Mablung looked down at Sam with some wonder in his eyes. "Truly your visit is something out of the stories -- halflings and elves." He shook his head in amazement. He then added reluctantly. "I am supposed to blindfold all visitors to our refuge. But -- "
"That is acceptable," Legolas interjected. Sam glanced up at him in surprise, but Legolas kept his gaze on the Gondorian. "I understand your desire for security."
"I don't want to offend you or suggest that you're our enemy," Mablung objected. "There's really no reason -- I mean, you're an elf -- "
"It is all right. I have no wish to know the location of your refuge."
Sam thought it odd and a little funny that the 'prisoner' was the one arguing to be blindfolded. But then he figured that with Legolas' senses, it might not make that much of a difference anyway and it was a gesture of trust.
Three other Rangers encountered them and were impressed by the appearance of an elf and a strange hobbit, and eventually the whole party moved toward their mysterious refuge. Legolas and Sam wore their blindfolds, each with a guide. Sam nearly laughed as the Men argued briefly over who got to touch the elf. It was as though they hoped some of his elvishness would rub off on them.
The path seemed smooth but steep as it climbed along a river, which Sam could hear always on one side. They grew nearer to a loud waterfall and then the sound was muffled as they went into some underground tunnel. A few steps later, their blindfolds were removed, and Sam found himself in a damp cavern lit by torches and a cooking fire. There were bedrolls against the walls, packs of supplies, and some equipment, with a table and a couple of stools. About two dozen men stood in the cavern looking at them with various degrees of wonder or hostility.
Mablung smiled at them. "Welcome to the Henneth Annûn, headquarters of the Rangers of Ithilien." He addressed another. "Is the captain back yet?"
"In the back."
"I'll get him," Mablung told them. "Wait here." He strode off to an opening at the far end that led to another cavern or tunnel.
Shortly Mablung emerged with another man, younger and slighter of build, but with dark hair and curiously gentle eyes, though his face showed some strain. His eyes widened when he saw the two there to meet him, and could not decide whether the elf or the hobbit was more amazing. He settled on looking at Legolas and bowed his head. "Mae govannen. Long years has it been since we saw an elf in Gondor. Your presence honors us," he said in greeting. Then his gaze dropped and fixed on the sword at Legolas' side.
His hand went to his own sword-hilt and his expression turned cold. "That is my brother's sword. How did you get it?"
At his words, the welcome of the rangers turned into suspicion, and many hands went to their weapons.
Sam stared at the captain in surprise. He was Boromir's brother? But Boromir had spoken of his brother as a quiet, rather scholarly youth -- not this warrior who stood before them.
Legolas' voice was calm and he kept his hands away from his weapons. "Your brother? Then you are Faramir, son of Denethor?"
Faramir nodded once, shortly. "I will ask one more time, elf. How did you get Boromir's sword?"
Legolas answered, "He was one of my companions. I sorrow to tell you, Captain Faramir, that Boromir was slain some ten days past."
There was a shocked gasp at that, and Faramir paled. "You say you were one of his companions, how -- how did he die?"
Sam tensed and couldn't help a glance up at his friend's face. Legolas had never told him the manner of Boromir's death, but Sam was certain that if he told the truth, neither of them would leave the cavern alive.
But Legolas knew it as well, and he gave Faramir the truth without revealing everything. He met Faramir's gaze with a soft expression. "He was killed in battle with the forces of the Shadow. He fought bravely, but ... it was not enough. I helped ease the pain of his wounds as he passed." He set one hand lightly on the sword's pommel. "I carry his sword to remind me of the power of darkness, and in your brother's memory."
There was a long silence as Faramir looked down and tried to get control over himself. "That is ill news, indeed," he managed finally to say in a level voice. "Why were you traveling together?"
"We began with nine companions from Rivendell including your brother. Boromir was returning to Minas Tirith, and he traveled with the rest of us, while our paths lay together," Legolas explained, his voice gentling in sorrow. "But two were lost in the caverns of Moria, your brother at the ruins of Amon Hen, and two others were taken prisoner by orcs. The last two were separated from us, so Sam and I had to continue our journey alone."
"But -- why?" Faramir asked, frowning. "Why come here?"
Legolas hesitated to answer. "We are on a quest. We journey to Mordor."
The gathered men whispered and drew back in shock. Faramir lifted a hand to quiet them. "Why would anyone choose to cross the Ephel Dúath?"
"Because we must," Legolas answered. He raised his voice slightly to address all the men within the cavern. "Middle-Earth stands upon a narrow bridge, Captain Faramir. The Nazgûl have issued forth from Minas Morgul. Sauron's power grows, and he gathers his armies. Saruman of Angrenost has betrayed the west and allied himself with Mordor. Dark times have fallen upon us all, and each race of Middle-Earth, whether man, elf, hobbit, or dwarf must stand together. Sam and I must enter Mordor, for that is the task that fell to us."
"But why?" Faramir persisted. "What good can you possibly do there?"
Legolas shook his head once. "That I cannot reveal."
"But it's really important," Sam volunteered.
Faramir glanced down at him, and Sam wondered whether he should have spoken. Before, Faramir hadn't paid him much attention, but now Sam realized that the ranger captain had a sharp glint in his grey eyes.
But Faramir let it go, straightening. "I see. We will discuss this more later. You know who I am, but I have not had the favor of your names."
"This is Samwise Gamgee, a halfling of the Shire in the old lands of Arnor." Legolas laid a hand on Sam's shoulder briefly, and lifted his chin. "And I am Legolas, son of Thranduil, king of the elves of Mirkwood in the distant north."
That certainly impressed the gathered Big Folk, Sam saw with an inner grin. Not only were they hosting an elf -- something of a rare thing in itself, he gathered -- but an elven prince. Not that his rank seemed that important to Legolas, who rarely mentioned it, but it was enough for Faramir to offer assistance. On hearing how low their supplies were, Faramir gave Sam travel rations for his pack and Legolas his choice of arrows to restock his quiver. Legolas then asked for information about entering Mordor.
Faramir led them to the back of the chamber where a low table had been set. He spread a map on a table and brought up a stool so that Sam could stand on it and also see.
"We stand about here," Faramir put is finger between the river and the mountains, roughly east of Cair Andros. "Were you intending to go north or south?"
"South, toward Minas Morgul." Legolas answered. He pretended not to notice the men's reaction to the name, as they shivered. "I have been told there is a secret path somewhere near the old city."
Faramir hesitated. "I remember reading that there was another pass. But that was very long ago. None of us have gone near the dread city in centuries. It is a place of great evil."
Legolas turned to him curiously. "Where was this other pass?"
Faramir frowned and narrowed his eyes in thought. Then he bent and traced a line north of Minas Morgul and the Nameless pass. "Somewhere about there."
"One I know passed that way not long ago," Legolas murmured, and Sam started, realizing that Legolas could only be speaking of Gollum.
Faramir shook his head doubtfully. "Its name of old was ill-omened, my lord. Cirith Ungol."
Legolas straightened, and his eyes suddenly blazed. "Ungol?" he repeated in a soft yet dangerous voice.
Faramir did not step back though he seemed tempted. He nodded shortly. "I do not know why. But I am certain there is some foul evil there. I have seen lore-masters of my city blanch when speaking of it. I do not think it is wise for you to go that way."
In confusion, Sam looked from one to another, wishing he had learned more elvish. "What does it mean?"
"The Pass of the Spider," Legolas declared in disgust. "I fear no spiders, if such actually exist in Cirith Ungol, Captain Faramir. Long have they spun their webs in the green forests of my home, and my people hunt them. Their bloated bodies fall to our arrows as easily as other creatures."
Sam swallowed, remembering Bilbo's tales of the giant carnivorous spiders in Mirkwood. As Bilbo told the story, his escape had been a very near thing and the spiders had been as big as a hobbit. Sam had no wish to meet a spider which was the same size as he was.
Faramir nodded, but somewhat dubiously. "Even if there are no spiders, I doubt the way is unguarded. The Nameless One surely knows the path."
"Perhaps," Legolas agreed. "Yet it is guarded at the foot by Minas Morgul. Why should Sauron --" He paused when Faramir and Mablung flinched at the naming. Legolas' smile flickered. "Captain, by not speaking his name, you give Sauron power over you."
"Speaking his name attracts the attention of the Eye," Faramir whispered. "This close to Mordor we do not take needless risks."
Though it was evident that Legolas did not agree, he nodded once, and changed the subject. "I know of no other path to try. This seems as good a prospect as any."
Faramir hesitated and looked at his guest in appraisal. "You are not afraid to enter Mordor? It must surely be a weighty task that takes you into the nest of darkness with such determination."
"Should I fail," Legolas met his gaze, very serious, "Middle-Earth will fall to the enemy."
Silence fell for a long moment, broken only by the hiss of burning torches and the rush of water.
Faramir offered slowly, "Then if it is so important, the rangers of Ithilien should go with you and protect you on your quest."
Sam's gaze shot toward Legolas, surprised by the offer. The elf was likewise surprised, and for a moment Sam thought he might accept the offer to help.
But then he shook his head. "It is a generous offer, Captain Faramir. Especially when you do not even know the full nature of what I must do. Yet I cannot accept. My quest has already taken the lives of many, friend and foe alike. Nor will I willingly take allies into such peril, which would grow even more with many companions. One may creep where a whole company would be seen."
"Two," Sam corrected staunchly.
"Yes, true enough," Legolas set a hand on his shoulder. "Two."
But Sam was hit by a sudden foreboding. Did Legolas intend to leave him behind to finish the quest alone?
The hobbit glared at his friend, resolving not to let it happen. He had promised to see it through, and so he would. The son of Hamfast Gamgee was not so easily left behind.
*~*~*~*~*~*
The evening had grown late, but Legolas could not sleep, even in this relative safety. He silently picked his way across the chamber of sleeping men and through the entrance, climbing down steps and moving outside to a vantage point mid-way down the falls, along a narrow rocky shelf.
The night air was cold and damp but fresh, and it was quieter here without the echoes of the cavern magnifying every breath and rustle of sleeping men.
The refuge was located in one of the narrow defiles that cut through Ithilien. Steeply sided, it allowed only a limited view of the night sky, and that was mostly blocked by clouds. But the moonlight was bright enough to shine onto the pool below and the hardy trees and bushes clinging to the steep walls.
He sat on one of the rocks, his feet dangling over the edge, and took out a small leaf-wrapped bundle. Within was a square piece of lembas the size of the end of his thumb. Very slowly, he nibbled at the piece until it was gone. He licked away the last few crumbs and then released the bent leaf so it could fall into the pool below.
That was the last of it. The other two packets had been crushed by the snake and made inedible by swamp water. So he had no food left. Or at least none that he was willing to eat. Elves were strong creatures, capable of enduring long periods without food, but his will to resist would be sapped without sustenance. Yet if he gave in to the desires of the ring for the sustenance it would allow, he would become the ring's servant that much faster.
Not again, he swore to himself. Shame warred with desire within him, remembering the taste of the deer's blood with his mouth fastened onto the wound in its neck like a hideous leech.
The Lay of Leithian mentioned the monstrous, blood-drenched form that Sauron had become on escaping Lúthien and hiding from the Valar in Taur-na-Fuin. Legolas feared becoming such a creature if he gave in to this hunger, but how much choice did he have? He shuddered and his hands trembled with need.
I will not, not again.
But he had sworn that the last time, and broken it. The ring had trapped him well.
For the first time in days, he took off the ring. It lay in his palm, glittering in the moonlight. His hand did not ache so much, holding it. It was small and plain, but beautiful.
Boromir's words on the mountain came back to him, 'Strange that we should suffer so much fear and doubt for such a little thing.'
Legolas remembered wondering in that moment whether Aragorn's sword or his own arrow would kill the human first, if he chose not to give the ring back to Frodo. But it had turned out that his own knife had ended Boromir's life, because of the ring.
No, it was not a little thing. It was power and the temptation of power. It whispered promises that he knew were lies but wanted to believe: Promises of how he might find a path out of the maze surrounding him. Promises of how he might avert the doom awaiting him.
But he knew deep in his heart that there was no escape. No whispered promises from the ring could change that.
He glanced west, out through the cleft toward the Anduin and beyond. I will never see Valinor. I will never see the Harbor of Swans, or the Ever-white Mountain. I will never see the shining hill of Tol Eressëa rising from the sea. These things are barred to me, because of this thing I bear.
He stared down at the ring and traced it with a fingertip once. Then the sound of boots on stone behind him made him tighten his hand into a fist around the ring.
He sensed the claws reaching out in the darkness toward the human, seeking a new bearer. The ring wanted one who would not fight it at all and take it straight to Sauron.
"You do not sleep, Prince Legolas?" Faramir called in a soft voice as he came near.
"Captain Faramir. Neither do you, it seems."
For a long moment the human said nothing and seemed to be staring off at the night as well.
Legolas refused to tense. His bow and sword were back in the cave, but he had his knives. There was no danger, not yet.
Without looking at him, Faramir murmured, "Do you know what it was that sent my brother north?" He did not wait for Legolas to reply. "A dream we both shared. He sought four things: a halfling, Rivendell, the Sword that was Broken, and Isildur's bane. I know he found the first two. Did he find the last?"
"He found the sword, for the shards of Narsil have ever been kept at Imladris," Legolas answered, wondering where Aragorn was and hoping he was well. "In Elrond's house too Boromir found the sword's owner: Aragorn, son of Arathorn, the heir of Isildur." The keen eyes of Faramir suddenly fell on him and he breathed in sharply.
"So now the riddle becomes clearer," Faramir murmured.
Legolas continued. "Aragorn intended to make his way to Minas Tirith, but we parted at Amon Hen. I do not know where he is now."
"Ah. He had not come to the city when I departed it some six days ago." Faramir considered for a long moment, no doubt wondering what the return of the king would do to his father and his own position in Gondor. The Stewards had ruled Gondor for half the age, and doubtless none had believed Isildur's heir would claim his birthright in his lifetime. Faramir's voice was soft. "And Isildur's bane?"
Legolas hesitated but realized it probably didn't matter. He opened his fist to display the ring on his palm briefly, before hiding it again.
Faramir sucked in a breath. "Is that -- ? You carry Isildur's bane? It's a ring." And then his eyes grew wide as he put together fragments of lore known to him from the last days of the age past and he realized what it was. "The One Ring."
"It calls to you, Faramir," Legolas whispered and Faramir flinched as if struck. "I hear it calling to you. It calls because it believes you will be easier to corrupt and it is losing opportunities to find a new bearer. But it is not yours, and it cannot ever be yours, or Middle-Earth will fall into shadow without end."
Faramir wasn't listening. His hand reached out to touch Legolas' fist, fingers shaking slightly. "The Ring of Power... So shall Faramir show his quality."
Legolas drew his hand back and spoke sharply, "Faramir, son of Denethor, lasto beth lammen!"
Faramir's gaze jerked up to meet his, the ring's whisper silenced by the elvish spell. "Hear me," Legolas repeated, less forcefully but no less intensely, while his gaze held the mortal's. "The king comes, Faramir -- the last heir of Elendil is returning to Gondor, but he will need you. Your people and your lands need you all the more with your brother's passing. Do not throw it away for something which is false. The ring brings only death."
In the following moment of silence, a flare of pain shot through Legolas' hand like a flash of fire. His fingers spasmed, cramping around the ring, and the missing one burned.
But he sat and endured it, tightening his jaw against crying out, because he knew the ring was punishing him for thwarting its desires. The claws of dark ice had found no purchase on Faramir.
Not that it would last, Legolas knew that too. He had to leave and soon.
Faramir glanced down at Legolas' tightly fisted hand and his knuckles white with strain. "You plan to destroy it?"
"Yes."
"Then, forgive me, but you should go," Faramir suggested. He took one deliberate step backward. "I -- I don't want to let it go, but I know I have to."
Legolas nodded once and stood. "I will go now. You and your men should return to Minas Tirith. There is nothing more you can do here."
Faramir nodded his agreement. "That was already planned. My father must be told of Boromir's death. He will not take it well." His gaze went distant and dark, and Legolas wondered what trouble with Denethor he foresaw. But there was no time to ask about that, when he had another request to make.
Legolas said, "And please, take Sam with you. His friends will also come to Minas Tirith eventually and... he should be with them."
Faramir frowned. "I thought he goes with you."
Legolas shook his head and he glanced west, eyes pricking with sudden tears, thinking of the hobbit's courage and loyalty. His voice remained level. "No. He is very brave, and I think he truly would go with me to the end. But I would not have him share in my fate."
"Your fate?" Faramir repeated and his eyes met Legolas' in the moonlight. He nodded once in realization. "You mean not to return."
"I know I will not," Legolas answered very quietly. "Whatever happens, I will not return to the west. I would ask that you aid Aragorn in what he must do. He is my friend, and he was not so accepting of his destiny when last I saw him. Gondor needs you both."
Faramir nodded once. "I will."
"You have a noble spirit, son of Denethor. It will serve you well." Legolas slipped past him on the path and glanced back once at the entrance to the cavern behind the waterfall. Faramir was looking out to the western stars, his hands clenched at his sides.
Holding the ring in his cramping fingers against his chest, Legolas entered the large cavern where everyone slept. He intended to gather his things silently and leave, but all too soon he knew that the ring was thwarting his plan.
Mae govannen = 'Well met', 'hello'.
Continued in Chapter 9: To the Cross-roads