Sorry this took so long to update, but I was having problems writing this and the next chapter. Then I was so wrapped up in other things (I am planning and writing at least another two stories as well as this one, all at the same time!) so this chapter sat around on my hard drive for a while before I realized I had not posted it!
Silly Billy.
Anyway here it is, and I am sorry if I left you on tender hooks – I didn't meant to!
Chapter 3
Éomer stood in the doorway watching Faramir's pale face watching the Eastern horizon. The time he had put aside hoping, praying Aragorn would return had passed with no word or show of either horse nor bird. He knew time was against them and no matter how much he wished to ignore it he knew some ill had become to his King, and his deepest fears had come true.
"What now, Faramir?" Éomer asked.
Faramir did not turn to the Rohirrim King but continued to stare at the horizon which flickered with red flame.
"What would you wish me to do?" Éomer asked again..
"Even if we do go to fight in the East who will stay behind and defend our lands if we were to fail?" Faramir asked with some length.
"But we will not fail if we act now" Éomer reassured, stepping closer.
The Steward shook his head: "No, Éomer. You have said it yourself Sauron has regained the Ring, and no amount of strength of arms can stop him. There is no hope!"
"We should at least try!"
"No, my friend it would be a massacre if we leave here"
"Yet you'd rather stay here and let the enemy come to you? Have the walls of this city breeched and the people slaughtered. Then when we are dead the enemy will go from village to village killing at will and into Rohan." Éomer cried. "You would rather sit here and wait for the end to come rather then push forwards in a bid to save the King?"
"The enemy would not keep him alive" Faramir said sadly. "I will not go against his orders"
"But if ill has become to him, then you are in charge"
"I will not give the order! I will not send my people to be killed" Faramir cried hotly.
"If you will do nothing, then
I will act, alone or with accompanies"
"Don't be a fool!" Faramir hissed, "You
will not come back alive. Every man and strong lad will be needed to defend
should the enemy come here."
"But if we go now then we may stop them from advancing" Éomer continued to press.
"No," Faramir said firmly "I will not give the order to advance nor will I allow a friend to ride to his death"
Éomer opened his mouth to argue but paused: "Then what will you do?" he asked realising what the Steward had said.
***
Outside the Citadel of Minas Tirith the sapling of the White Tree stood guarded as normal, but also protected whilst gazing down onto the plains below stood the halflings Merry and Pippin dressed accordingly.
Pippin shifted his gaze from the plains into the East over the ruined city of Osgiliath and towards the mountains on the horizon. He shuddered remembering clearly the awesome number that had once gathered below, a sea of black pitted with battering rams and towers. Now the plains stood silent and empty but the tension in the air that was there before he could feel once again tickle his skin.
He turned to Merry: "I don't like this Merry" he said "there is something strange in the air, as if something is watching and provoking us"
Merry did not turn to face him, but nodded: "Aye, there is something at work here. It feels as if the enemy is taunting us from a distance. I don't like either"
"I wish Strider or Gandalf was here" Pippin moaned quietly.
"Me too, Pip, me too"
The watchmen Menvan stifled a yawn and returned his gaze onto the surroundings quickly checking the beacons had not yet been lit and the river which was clear of vessels and activity. In a bored state he shifted his gaze north and paused. He was sure he had just seen something disappear behind a hill. He gazed harder, fixing his eyes upon the spot where he thought he had seen something, but nothing moved, nothing rose over the hill top. Sighing he turned his gaze once again to the familiar pattern of checking the mountaintops, as much as the city he could see and all four compass points, checking the river again. He paused again, something moved again in the north, rubbing his eyes he stared harder again and there! Something moved, again he squinted as hard as he could and called over another man.
"What do you think that is?" he pointed.
The other man squinted: "I don't know. Should we raise the alarm?"
Menvan did not reply but watched the thing out in the distance, what ever it was it was moving fast across the land in a blur, its shape seemed to change every so often… He gasped suddenly straightened his back: "Call the Steward - a rider approaches, it looks foreign!"
The other man dashed away.
It was differently a horse and rider Menvan could see them now, the horse was grey and the rider had large lose clothing and hair which caught the wind with every stride.
Quickly Faramir and Éomer raced up beside Menvan and the watchmen, they were quickly followed by Merry and Pippin.
"What's going on?" Merry asked not being able to see over the battlements or in between the men.
"There is a rider approaching" Éomer said, "I cannot make him out"
"It looks like an elf" Faramir said.
"An elf?" Piping cried "Do you think it is Legolas?"
"I do not know" Éomer replied softly.
He turned to Faramir and they exchanged looks. "What shall we do?" he asked "How do we not know this is Aufstand or another traitor?" he asked Faramir seriously dropping his voice.
"We do not know, we must risk it. He may have news on Elessar." Faramir hissed. "Which direction was he travelled from?" he asked Menvan.
"From the north, sir"
"A Mirkwood elf possibly" Faramir stated.
"A traitor" Éomer hissed.
"Either way we must do what we can for him" Faramir pressed. "Open the gate!" he cried.
His message passed down the line of men towards the gates and with a groan and creak of wood and chains the gates swung open and the lone grey horse galloped inside the safety of the city.
Faramir, Éomer and the hobbits hurried down to meet the elf how quickly leapt down from his horse and bowed his head.
"My Lords," he said "I bring news from Lord Elrond of Rivendell"
***
The daylight was dazzling in the deeps of the darkness. But it was a blissful sight to behold to one who thought there was no escape.
With as much stealth as he could muster whilst carrying the dead weight of his unconscious friend and luggage Legolas crept through the entrance of the tunnel and into the overcast light. Quickly he took in his rocky and desolate surrounds and dark ominously looking skies above. The cruel land or Mordor stood cold and eerily quite and enemy free for the moment at least.
Seizing the moment Legolas lowered Gimli to the ground and took out the pouch of herbs he found in one of the packs and began to prepare them for usage. He dare not start a fire to heat water, instead he softly chewed the herbs in his mouth to moisten them and smeared them onto Gimli's visible wounds created a paste as he went. Each leaf and steam was savoured and used with great care with the lightest of touches. Next he looked to himself and pasted over the deepest and ugliest cuts and wounds he could find and reach he felt his throat and neck in vain for any foreign bodies and wounds but wound nothing. Satisfied he had done all he could he turned to Gimli still cold and limp from the poison and with no way of reviving him Legolas had to sit and wait for him to recover. There was no point leaving to go in any direction at the moment, for which ever way they would go some enemy would find them, or some ill would become to their already ill state. They needed a plan, an idea, structure and hope. Should they go and try and find Sam and Gandalf, or should they go back and find aid?
Either way the journey would be surrounded in mystery and danger. If they went onwards, they could not grantee they would find Sam or Gandalf alive or even where they were being held. If they went back they would be no way of knowing if some ill had befallen Gondor or Rohan whilst they journeyed from Rivendell. To journey back for aid would take much time and effort, something they did have much of. Even if Sam was still alive Legolas did not know if they had the strength or the time to return and save him and Gandalf. Would the men agree to save them? That was also another question he had thought of. Putting himself in the position of the Men he decided that he would not command men to risk life and death just to save a hobbit and an old man, but they were his close friends…Would they leave him behind if they had a choice?
Legolas rose to his feet, tucked Gimli and the luggage safely into a shadowy corner and crept away, the sense of curiously had overcome him suddenly and very strongly. Though he had not admitted it, he had never actually gone into Mordor before. Sure he had trodden the path to its Black Gates and to the feet of the mountains but he had never actually been inside. Though he knew there is nothing neither exciting nor beautiful about this land he was inquisitive to see what lay beyond the mountainous terrain on which he stood. Also it would help them greatly if they were to go onwards; the path in front of them would help decide the course they would take. Keeping as low to the ground as possible Legolas crawled to the rocky ridge and peered over.
The land that met him was far for beautiful and full of life, it was dark and bear, broken by the occasional flicker of flames from the mountain or fork lightening from the sky. The mountain of Fire filled most of his vision, burning and smoking to his right, but against the natural landscape he saw something clearly man made, something that made him shudder. He could see the tall tower of Barad-dûr not many league away and instantly he noticed the Eye of Sauron which had once stood high above the Tower, always burning and watching was missing. The Lidless Eye of Sauron was gone, the forked support still stood upon the roof like a pair of horns but they supported nothing. His blood felt cold as he turned away slightly shaky, beneath him the stones felt horridly sharp and he could hear their angry voices. He paused in his tracks and picked one practically jagged stone up and turned it in his hands. The pointed ends and sides nicked his skin, but he did not mind instead he concentrated upon the sensation he was feeling. He could hear the stone's voice, but could not make out the words, it sounded like an ancient tongue, one which he did know. Never before had he felt such thing, the small, dangerous stone had feelings and opinions. Even before he had his immortality taken away he not sensed this before especially in stones. It was tress and plants that he reacted to the most, never rock and stone. He chuckled lightly thinking that the charm and strangeness of the dwarves were rubbing off onto him. He slipped the active stone into his pocket reminding himself that he should show it to Gimli once he was awake to see his reaction.
He crawled back to his friend and felt his skin. It was still pale and cold but he was sure his pulse was a little stronger then it was before. Wrapping his cloak around him Legolas leant back against the walls of the entrance of the tunnel and uttered a sigh. He felt exhausted and longed to sleep, but he feared to do so in case the enemy found them, also he feared he may not wake again. His mind returned again to what he had seen over the rock ridge, the Eyeless Tower, empty land and highly talkative stones. What did it all mean? Had Aufstand marched Sam and Gandalf straight into the heart of the Land of Shadows and exchanged the One Ring? Had she killed them and taken the Ring? Was she caught up in between a triangle of love for the Ring and her master?
Bitterly he kicked several loss stones in a fit of anger and hatred, he stiffened to listen if anything moved, but nothing came. Why didn't he, like Gimli said send Aufstand away? Why did he agree to allow her to come with them? Of course she was a family friend and someone he thought he could trust, but how could he forget she was Cassione's sister? How could he have forgotten? The two even looked the same! Yet they were completely different, Cassione was out going, always looking for trouble and adventure – that was how they ended up trapped and very frightened in Mirkwood thirty years ago, Legolas and Aragorn had not forgiven her for that. And Aufstand… well she was completely different, for a start she was afraid it seemed to make friends, she was terribly shy and private, enjoying her own company over any one else's. Why and how did she change from becoming this lonely figure to a brave and loyal fighter? Loyal? Not the correct word to describe her now. He racked his brains and began to remember.
The day when Aragorn, Cassione and himself were attacked in Mirkwood on New Year's Eve by Nightmares Aufstand became very distressed for her sister and after that she came a little more out her shell, meeting and greeting people, making friends and making herself known. Her popularity grew and Cassione became jealous, they rowed once, he recalled and Cassione left to live in Lothlórien whilst Aufstand remained in Mirkwood serving Thranduil and his family.
They must have been closer then many thought for they shared the secret of the Ring and to both deceive and betray the company for the same thing of desire and power. They both served Sauron, the great enemy of the elves, and they broke and betrayed them sentencing them to a worse fate then death.
They had made them mortal.
***
"Fyndra look after him well for me, please" Nymane half cried still clutching her small son Pal.
"Do not fear, I will take good care of him, and no matter what happens I will protect him with my life" Fyandra promised placing one hand upon her heart.
Tearful Nymane nodded: "I know you will" She handed her close friend her most beloved treasure of all into her arms, restraining herself from crying and clinging onto him.
Slightly distressed Pal stretched out his small arms and began to cry: "Atara*" he sobbed and Nymane comforted him, brushing his tears away on his soft face.
"Uuma elle er. Amin nauva entul rato, amin vest. Beleg ten amin, elle er**"
The child nodded and Fyndra embraced him tightly as Nymane kissed them both farewell.
"Pal is safe with Fyandra" Nymane said to her husband and warrior Erbschaft.
"You don't have to go, you can stay" he took her hands into his own dropping the parchment list he was holding.
"No" she said, "I want to do this, I want to help. I am sorry I stopped you before I knew how much you wanted to go. I know how much the Prince means to you. That is why I want to fight with you, for his sake"
"Mordor is no place for a woman" Erbschaft said gently.
"Woman? Who are you calling women? I am neither weak nor afraid!" she stepped back and drew her sword at her waist. "I am a fighter, I am proud of my race and my family and I will protect them from Sauron at all costs even if that will cost me my life."
Erbschaft smiled and tightly embraced her: "It will not come to that I am sure, but with your permission I wish to fight alongside such a deadly beauty warrior as you"
"Get over" Nymane teased pushing her husband away, "you have a job to do here first"
"Indeed" Erbschaft turned and continued to take the names of each elf that came to him and he inspected their armoury.
The numbers were surprising him, less the three weeks ago the village of elves that dwell in Mirkwood had lost all hope and faced a fate far worse then death – they had been turned mortal, betrayed by Cassione. The people were lost and confused, hurt beyond all reckoning and nothing it seemed could help them even they discovered the same fate had befallen Legolas, son of the King and after his best efforts aided by Gandalf the White no one seemed moved or were inspired by his words instead they seemed to sink further into disappear. But this new news had shaken them, and from the depths they sprung to life and wanted to fight to save the King's son and the Free People's of Middle-Earth. For ill had befallen him and the company, a great shadow had engulfed the sun and all her beauty, the time had come to fight back and reclaim their former glory.
"Why is my name not already written down?" one voice said and Erbschaft looked up from his list at the face and instantly bowed his head. "Your Majesty!"
"Well come on Erbschaft sign me in! You didn't really expect me to stay behind did you?" Thranduil asked.
Hurriedly Erbschaft wrote the King's name down and briefly looked over his gear. "Welcome aboard!" He said shaking hands with the King in an overjoyed, over enthusiastic sort of way.
"Come now, did you really expect me to ignore the call of my brothers? If Elrond is relying on me, then I must answer" he said slapping Erbschaft heartily upon the back as he walked away.
To be honest Erbschaft wouldn't have been surprised is Thranduil did not come forward and did stay behind. He had become closed and bitter since Legolas left, it appeared he had descended into madness caused by Sauron and Cassione, yet here he was roaming through the elves as if nothing had happened.
Maybe this was a sign of hope, perhaps not everything was lost like he had first thought when the sun was masked and the ground seemed to quake. Perhaps there was still hope, somewhere.
***
Thranduil turned to the ranks of elves in front of him holding flaming torches aloft and suddenly he remembered the reason behind this and he began to feel incredibility guilty.
If he had been more supportive towards his son when he and his mismatched company came to him for aid, they begged him, yet he ignored them and brushed off Gandalf's words like dirt. Now ill had befallen them and he feared his son was lost along with the company and the Ring of Power. He should have helped them and recalled the connection between Cassione and Aufstand, but like Legolas and others who had seen them together for hundreds of years he missed the connection. But they lived apart without visiting one another he had forgotten they knew each other let alone even related. Had that cost him the life of his son, and possible the freedom of his people? He wasn't about to take that risk, he wanted to correct and error he had made, he wanted to do all he could to help as many as he could. Even though the Free People include Dwarves he still wished to fight, for Legolas proved a friendship between two mismatched races can be achieved after many struggles and strives.
His eyes fell upon the face of General Erbschaft and beside him his wife Nymane, if they and many others could put more they just their lives and future on the line, so could he.
"My kinsmen" he called, "shadows have strengthen in the east and has swallowed our beloved sun and stars. Sauron has regained much of his lost power and will extend his hands to take whatever life he wishes. You brothers and sisters, your sons and daughters, your mothers and fathers, many have already suffered at the hand of Sauron, but no more! Let us unite with the forces of Rivendell and beyond, let us rekindle the alliances between Elves and Men, put aside our differences to unite in one cause. For one thing, one more powerful and stronger then any weapon the enemy can produce, more powerful and more desired then any spell a wizard can conjure – freedom! No matter what the enemy may throw at us, no matter what the future holds we will remain true to ourselves and to each other, in an effort and constant battle to regain what is rightly ours, to throw down our enemy and smote his ruins. For all those that have come before us, let them be remembered and revenged. We shall no go quietly into the night, we shall fight!"
The ranks broke into cheers and cries.
"Let us march upon enemy, let us go!" the King cried, leading his people. Leading them to death and glory, to war.
* = Mother
** = Don't cry little one. I will return soon, I promise. Be strong for me, little one.
Reviewer responses
Alida-Fruit: Thank you for returning from 'Fear Returns' and don't worry for not being there when it kicked off again. As you can see not many people have … L Anyway, thank you as ever for you reviews! I found it rather patchy picking up the pieces of the last one and fitting them together again. I knew towards the end of 'Fear' that I wanted to create a sequel, but this was going to be a challenge as all the other sequels I ever attempted were terrible and I had to abandon them. Now I am slightly older and wiser (hem, hem) I thought I should give a go. Even now I am finding some pieces harder to write then others. I have enjoyed re-writing the characters I had in 'Fear' and when I wrote Erbschaft (his name is actually German for legacy) I suddenly realized I didn't want to send him with the others to their deaths in Mordor, I wanted to save him for something else, something more powerful and wroth fighting and dying for. And ta tar! Elrond comes to the rescue! Love, hate?
Oh and well done with 'Fading Hope' – ab fab stuff!
Help! I need to track down a decent Elvish translator and some accuracy on the proper use of Athelas, everything I have tracker down so far was rather useless!
Thank you,
Rosie