A/N: Ok, some of this chapter was updated. A few little facts corrected.
Disclaimer: Ok, ok, I don't own the characters from Lord of the Rings (much as I would love to have at least Aragorn); they are the property of J.R.R. Tolkien. And yes, I have used some of his lines from the book flinches but don't hurt me for it.
Chapter 9: Messages
An old man, dressed in robes of splendid white, and carrying a long white staff, entered and stood before the assemblage. He was a wizard, and an old friend, known to the people of Rohan as Greyhame or Láthspell, so named by Wormtongue. Both Théoden and Aragorn were surprised to see him.
"Gandalf," cried Théoden, "what brings you to these parts?"
"Bad news, unfortunately," he said, approaching them at a fast pace.
"I have received word that the armies of the Lidless Eye are gathering to Mordor. Sauron is planning an attack and it will be Minas Tirith who suffers. I have been to Denethor and he implores you to come and aid them. If we fight all as one, we stand a better chance. The ring bearer is preparing to leave and begin his journey to Mount Doom. We must draw the Eye's attention away from him if we are to stand a chance. Sauron will not expect your forces to join in time if you leave now.
I have sent envoys to the Elves of Rivendell, Lothlórien and Mirkwood to send what forces they still have in Middle Earth, and other smaller kingdoms nearby. Prince Imrahil of Dol Amroth has already agreed to join us with his knights and we are expecting Duinhir and his sons to bring forces also, with Hirluin the Fair from Pinnath Gelin, and Dervorin of Ringló Vale to join with the soldiers of the White Tree.
We now beg of Rohan, who can offer us more than any, to aid us in our fight. If you do not, you shall stand, alone, after we have perished. Without your help, Gondor shall fall and whom then will you turn to for protection. Long have the men of Gondor and Rohan fought side by side and I now show you that token again."
Gandalf held in his hands, an arrow, blood red, the symbol of war against Gondor.
The Red Arrow.
"Would I present this to you if this threat were not real?" he asked.
Théoden was speechless, the fear in his eyes and face were clear to all those who stood in the room. He was obviously taken aback by this news. The thought that the Dark Lord had gathered his forces to Mordor to launch the start of a War for his ring of power was overwhelming. He would not allow them to survive this unless they joined together as one to defeat him forever. But could they even do that? Would anyone be left alive?
The king sat in thought for a time. Gandalf watched him intently. Finally, he spoke:
"I will join with Gondor, I will call for all forces throughout my kingdom to return to Edoras. We shall gather here, and set out in three days. Those who cannot make it in that time shall meet us in Minas Tirith as soon as they can."
"Then this is your decision?" inquired Gandalf.
"Yes," replied Théoden, firmly. "Yes, this is my choice."
Aragorn was troubled also. He knew it was time. He must reveal himself to Sauron. He had gathered a palantír from the ruins at Orthanc but had kept it hidden, not daring to look into it. Now, it was time, though. He would face Sauron, not as a mere ranger, but as High King of Gondor. As Elessar.
Another knock came at the door before he could act upon this thought. The doors opened again to reveal three young men dressed in traveller's attire. One of the men stepped forward.
"I am Halbarad Dúnedain, Ranger of the North. We seek one Aragorn, son of Arathorn, and we heard he was in Rohan, in the realm of Théoden King."
"You have found him!" cried Aragorn as he ran forward to greet him. "Halbarad! Of all the joys this is the least expected! And Elladan and Elrohir! My brothers, I am overjoyed to see you also!"
"We came when we received your message. The Lady Galadriel of the Golden Wood of Lothlórien and Lord Elrond of Imladris sent us with messages of guidance for you, as they sensed that you were in need."
"True, I did not ask it of them, but I wished it," replied Aragorn.
Elladan stepped forward, now, "Lord Elrond sends this message to you: 'The days are short. If thou art in haste, remember the Paths of the Dead. Remember the words of the seer.' He also sends this for you." Elladan held out a bright sword for Aragorn to take.
"Narsil, the sword that was broken has now been reforged," he gasped, staring in wonder at it. "Now, Andúril, the Flame of the West."
Elrohir now approached him.
"The Lady Galadriel bid me tell you this: 'Elfstone, Elfstone, bearer of my green stone, in the south under snow a green stone thou shalt see. Look well, Elfstone! In the shadow of the dark throne then the hour is at hand that long hath awaited thee.' I cannot tell you what it means, she told me you would know that."
"I cannot say that I do, as yet," said Aragorn, looking confused and a little frustrated at this news, "I shall retire now, to ponder this. There are some things that I must do." He hurried out of the hall and straight to his room.
It was time for him to act. This new message meant that there was little time to waste, things must be done or they may never be. He rummaged around for the palantír, now was the time. He found it in the fabric satchel he had placed it in and sat on the bed, gazing into the swirling blackness. Suddenly, a great eye, wreathed in flame appeared in the centre. Aragorn could hear a voice speaking from this.
"Who are you?"
"I am Aragorn, son of Arathorn; heir of Isildur and rightful King of Gondor. I know who you are, Sauron, Lord of Mordor."
"Isildur's heir!" was the hoarse reply, "no, it can't be! How is it that I do not know of you?"
"I was raised by Lord Elrond in Rivendell. Estel, I was named after my mother left me there to be raised in safety, for that is what I am. I am the last hope of men, and I will defeat you, Sauron." He held up the sword, Narsil, for him to see. A hoarse cry could be heard by Aragorn.
"No, how is this! The sword that was broken is reforged! It cannot be!"
Aragorn felt a sharp pain shoot through his body, like knives were stabbing him. He drew away from the palantír and placed it hurriedly back into the pouch. The pains ceased and Aragorn sat silent, in thought. Sauron knew he was there now. Perhaps this would be a blessing rather than a hindrance.
He did not sound as if he had expected that answer. He was caught off guard. Isildur's heir had returned to claim his crown. The shards of Narsil had been reforged. The war had begun and Aragorn could not be stopped. Sauron knew his time might soon be up. He would strike hard. Aragorn knew this. This new information was quite a blow to him. Aragorn knew what he had to do.
The time was short, as Elrond had said, and he must travel the Paths of the Dead. But the journey was perilous, would he have any company? Would they dare to go with him? This was the moment of truth. If the prophecy were true, he would survive.
But what if it wasn't. What if he didn't succeed? He would be responsible for the lives of the men and he knew that Gondor would fall without their help.
He had to risk it.