Chapter 4
Within the Citadel Faramir had sat the messenger elf and called council with Éomer, Redd and Medd twin brothers both high ranking officers and the Kings' wife Arwen insisted to hear her fathers message.
"The Lord of Rivendell requests your aid in battle." The messenger elf recited his given message. "The Ring of Power has been presented to the Dark Lord and all has been restored to him. The fate of the remaining company remains unknown but it is clear ill has befallen to them." He said. "No one race has the power or resources to battle Sauron alone but together we have a stronger chance. His message is so: 'Let the old Alliance between Men and Elves be relit, let us fight alongside one another again. Let us together fight the gathering darkness in the East, let us at last cast away the enemy and join as one.'" he said into the silent room. "Lord Elrond will be sailing here within the next two days to hear you decision." The messenger finished.
"That soon?" Faramir mouthed surprised.
"Thy Elven Lord will march to the Black Gates with or without your aid, his mind is already set" the messenger stated.
Lady Arwen spoke before anyone could prevent her: "I will go with him no matter what you choose"
Gently Faramir placed a comforting hand upon her shoulder: "I beg you to remain behind, my Queen. Your father will not march to Mordor alone, I promise."
Éomer spun sharply to the Steward and Arwen turned a tearful face to him.
"The time has come for us to break the word of the King and to advance united with the elves to conquer the enemy." Faramir said slowly, rising in stature. He faced Éomer and said: "I am sorry I was hard against you my friend, I did not wish to accept the truth. But now I cannot ignore it with the Lord of Rivendell pleading for aid and the shadow in the east has enveloped the sun. This is something that will not go away" he said, "This is something we must fight away!"
***
With great care Aragorn pulled his beaten and torn shirt from his upper arm, the skin beneath was red and blistered. The inflamed skin stung and peeled where it had been scorched. There was little he could do to help himself other then try and keep the wounds as clean as possible using the water his captors would some times bring him in irregular intervals. The water had a slightly muddy tinge and lasted earthy, but it was he would ever receive from his captors, other then an occasional beating in the form of many varieties.
Alone, in a small dark cell Aragorn did not know the fate of Sam or Gandalf, but knew how they came here. The answer was still walking around the tower with a smug look upon her face. Dimly he shook his head, how could they have over looked the family connection? Surely they could remember Cassione and Aufstand were sisters? The thought of what the pair have done made anger boil up inside of him. First they killed Gollum after all believed the One Ring had been destroyed, but in fact Gollum had taken it from Frodo and some how lived, returning to his cave in the misty mountains. There Cassione and Aufstand found and killed him, and with the Ring hidden in Ithilien they travelled into Mordor and lay down they devotion to Sauron bending to his will, while it seemed he was unaware they had the Ring. Together with the aid of Sauron's growing army they developed away to steal the immortally of elves, leaving them open to decease and sickness. They had massacred the forest of Lothlórien, and locked in his small cell he did not if the same fate had meet Mirkwood or had reached Rivendell yet.
He did not travel to the northern elf stronghold so their fate was still unknown to him, the company parted shortly after Cassione had showed them her true colours and she tried to have them killed, but instead she had met her end when the Nazgúl or Ringwraiths attempted to snatch the Ring from her.
The Ring then passed to Sam who with the aid of Gandalf, Gimli and Legolas went to Mirkwood, the path must have been slow for Cassione's damage to the elves had also left Legolas mortal, and everything that made him unique from any other life from was taken from him.
In the meantime Merry, Pippin and himself headed south east towards Rohan and Gondor to spread the word of their discovery, and with much fear and angry words the Rohirrim decided they would follow Aragorn and the hobbits to Minas Tirith, and then when the moment was right the forces of the two countries would march forward into Mordor and end this, once and for all.
That was the plan at least. Then Aragorn heard that Legolas had chosen Aufstand to accompany him with Sam still bearing the Ring, Gandalf and Gimli into Mordor to sneak past the enemy and destroy the Ring in the Mountain of Fire. He fled from the White City to find them, to warn them if he was not too late. No one seemed to truly understand the horror of this new discovery other then Shadowfax, Gandalf's horse who understood the need of haste and he allowed Aragorn to ride him. But on the way there something spooked the great horse and Aragorn was thrown and into unconsciousness. He was sure if here were Gandalf that would not have happened for the horse had far more trust and confidence in the wizard then any one else, with Gandalf Shadowfax would do anything, but alas not for Aragorn.
He had exchanged many hands in between him being thrown from his horse to being here, trapped in the Dark Tower of Barad-dûr. The enemy always snarling, and drooling, the air was filled with tension and excitement; they knew what was about to happen or perhaps had already done so. For he had lost his sense of time and day, more so now that the sun has masked and night always covered the sky.
Barely conscious and filled with pain he was only just aware of Gandalf's and Sam's prescience when Sauron took back the Ring of Power and turned his might upon them. Gandalf's worst fears had come true, Sauron had taken physical form, making ruling and gaining the Ring much easier. Aragorn had no doubt that his was aided by the pair of elves.
The cell door creaked open, and Aragorn shifted his weight to sit up straight. He wanted to stand, to show the enemy that he was not weak but he did not have the time or the energy before the door fully opened and the enemy stepped inside. He had expected some orc to enter, but instead it was Aufstand, her brown hair lacked the shimmering beauty it once had. He hid his surprise and stared at her hard, with the utmost loathing.
She smiled almost innocently and closed the door behind her, her eyes not leaving his face, and nor his leaving hers.
Only when the stiff iron door was closed and its catch clicked into place did Aufstand speak: "The once small boy I remember now sits before me a man, a King, something I never imagine" she smirked.
Aragorn did not reply but just started at her sternly.
"The once weedy boy is now a 'great' man, I find that rather hard to take in." she continued, "But at this very moment you look more like that little boy I remember then the 'great' man you are suppose to be" she crouched slightly, patronizing him.
Aragorn did not rise to her taunts; he sat staring hard, remaining calm.
"The company that attempted to pass beneath the mountains certainly needed the strength and power of a 'great' King, such as yourself. After all the reputation elves like Legolas have for being killing machines, they were more then happy to surrender" her eyes bored into his, but still he did not react.
Aufstand pushed harder.
"Only the old man Gandalf put up a fight, the hobbit too, but they were easily overpowered and captured. But the others –" she sighed "– they didn't even try. One look at the enemy waiting for them and they handed over their weapons and accepted punishment for entering our land. Only when we started killing them did they try and put up a fight" she leaned closer still her face inches from Aragorn's.
Still he did not flinch nor speak.
"One by one we killed them, after torturing them for answers first. They might have been cowardly but they were rather stubborn, but that did not matter we learnt what we wanted. Trying to build up a little army were you? Going to march up and knock on the Black Gates to make everything alright, wanted to make a peace and surrender, just like the others did?" she pulled away suddenly and laughed. "Sauron does not bargain with simple folk like you"
Aragorn still did not react to her, he knew that no one in the group of elves truly knew what he had been doing in Gondor, of course Gandalf would have a vague idea after it was he how sent him along that road in the first place, but none of them knew for certain. They had discovered that another way. He struggled to suppress a shudder that rippled down his back and across his shoulders. But Aufstand but have noticed as she continued to find a sensitive nerve.
"The men are weak and lost without a leader; they will not come for you. The elves are too broken to pull themselves together or even contemplate fighting. Elrond is alone and powerless without the other Elders, he knows it. You are completely on you own, little King. Not one of the other company lived, I slew them myself and watched them beg for they lives" She shook her head, smiling. "I wish I could hear what Thranduil would have said if he heard his son cry, beg for his life and scream; tears sliding upon his face" her expression changed to disgust swiftly "weak, pathetic creature"
His chest was thumping and his fists clenched; quickly he stood and faced her, his teeth bared like a wild animal.
Aufstand was not taken back by his sudden change, instead she smiled again. Then stretched out one fist, and flicked out a thin pale finger and poked a burn upon Aragorn's collar hard.
Instantly he fell back clutching his stinging skin and Aufstand laughed loudly shutting the door behind her, her laughter carrying down the corridor behind it.
***
Something scrapped on the loose stone and Legolas jerked himself. He'd been asleep! Curse the mortal life he must now live! As quickly as his mortal body would let him Legolas stood and notched an arrow to his bow string, he eyes scanning, looking and listening for movement. Again he heard the noise of boots scarping loose stones, but it wasn't coming from around him, it was coming from just behind him. He spun and loosened the tension on his string. It was only Gimli battling the affects of the poison. Lowering himself down, storing his weapons away Legolas placed a firm hand on his friend's shoulders to keep him as still as he could.
Through the cloak and Gimli's clothing he could feel the warmth of his body returning, and his body begin to wake, twitching as if attempting to wake from a bad dream. Legolas pitted him, his eyes soft as the sturdy dwarf again shuffled his feet as if he was running from something.
The ferocity of his movements increased and Legolas had to push down his entire weight upon his friend to keep him still and to try and muffle the sounds he was making. The dwarf's mouth parted and uttered dry, hoarse whispers and quite mutterings. Maintaining his grip, waiting for the fit of activity to pass Legolas could make out some of the dwarf's mutterings.
"Balin, what happened to you?" he heard him mutter, "Who did this to you? Orcs? No, no that can't be…it's a tomb!" his body shuddered and his mouth moved wordlessly. "What have I done? I have lead my friends into their deaths! A Balrog, I cannot believe it – Gandalf, where – no Gandalf!" he half cried, his body convulsing and twitching violently as his body fought hard to wake him.
"No!" Gimli shouted kicking violently, "Sam, Aragorn, Legolas – where are you? They… them…she…no!" he roared, breathing hard.
Blinking twice he looked around himself. He was standing, fully awake, he was outside and it hurts were no longer painful.
Something laughed and he looked down at Legolas how was picking himself off the stony ground, smiling broadly.
"Welcome back, my friend" he said.
Gimli returned the smile and rubbed his side where Shelob had struck him, staring around himself.
"Where are we?" he asked, frowning, "What happened?"
Legolas jested for him to sit and he began to explain.
"The spider, Shelob stung you with her poisoned Stinger; luckily she did not kill you, but only knocked you out for several hours." He began to explain watching Gimli rifle through his pack. "I carried you; along with all the supplies I could carry and found a way out the cavern. Beyond that ridge –" he pointed "– is our possible path, that is if we chose it" he said, his eyes lingering on the ridge he had pointed to. Gimli too looked up from his pack and stared at the ridge, not sure what they should do next.
"Before us lay a choice of paths, neither are better or likely to be more successful then the other" Legolas said after a lengthy pause. "We could either go back and find aid or go into Mordor to find Sam and Gandalf"
Gimli turned to his companion, "You have had time to survey the area and I trust your judgement, Legolas. What do you think?"
Legolas blinked and recovered himself quickly. This was a strange twist; Gimli was stepping out of his stubborn shell he had been confined to since he met him. He actually admitted he trusted Legolas judgement! Something you would never hear him say up until now, maybe the narrow escape of death had shaken him slightly.
"Things have been put into motion, things that cannot be undone nor stopped" Legolas started, hiding his bewilderment at Gimli's change "the Eye of Sauron is missing from the Tower of Barad-dûr, Mount Doom is burning more fiercely then I can remember. Over the last hour the land below is filling with enemies, moving in a mass of shadows and flaming torches. They are restless; I fear they may find us"
Gimli's face was some what paler then before. "We cannot stay here, then?" he asked quietly.
"If we go back and return with aid, we would be risking everything and everybody on hoping that will we find Sam and Gandalf alive and Ring still with them. But look at the sky in the west, Gimli. Where is the sun? It has been masked and I have not seen light in the sky for many hours now."
Gimli shuddered, his small eyes shifting from the sky to Legolas. "You think Sauron has the Ring?"
"I fear so, but I am not completely sure"
"This does not finalise our route" Gimli snapped irritably.
"No, it does not. But it makes each direction equally as dark and dangerous" Legolas replied in a strange, stressed tone that did not suit him.
Gimli looked into his strained face for several moments and wished dearly there was something he could do to ease the burden that had settled about his friends shoulders. The weight of struggling with a mortal life and body was telling on him, he looked dead upon his feet, no longer the eager faced and sharp eyed friend he remembered. He was beaten and defeated, broken and struggling to repair himself, all dignity and pride lost. He could find no words of comfort, but understood the sooner they left this dark and hostile land the better it would be for the pair of them.
"The path back to Minas Tirith is filled with less danger then the one ahead of us" he said, "in Gondor we will find Aragorn and will be able to inform him of the ill that befell the company. Even if the Ring has been exchanged the men of Gondor and Rohan will follow Aragorn where ever he leads them. They are the most faithful people I have seen to a leader" Gimli said gently. "We will find hope there, I am sure of it. And with an army masses strong we will cast down Sauron, restore the peace and save Sam and Gandalf from their fate."
Again Legolas smiled at his sturdy companion, and was glad at last he was no longer alone. The decision he had pondered over for so long was much easier to make with someone else. Yes they would go back, go to Gondor and find Aragorn, tell him of the treachery of Aufstand.
"We will make it through" Gimli added softly kneeling next to Legolas. "We will, I promise"
Legolas nodded, somewhere in the depths of his world that had been completely turned upside down he believed Gimli's words, they would pull through, peace would be restored and life would be blissful again.
***
The unusual pairing of elf and dwarf picked themselves through the stones, back along the path they had trod just over a day ago with the company of eight others, six elves, one wizard and one hobbit. They were stumbling in their weariness; to lift each foot was draining on their energy supplies. They needed to ration what little food and water they had gathered, and could only rest once maybe twice a day, the constant threat of danger would not allow them to find rest even once they had stopped. Their born warrior skills forced them to trundle onwards through the everlasting starless darkness.
The pass of Cirith Ungol and the Winding Stairs were far steeper and dangerous climbing down then upwards. Once or twice they had slipped but were able to catch themselves before they slid too far. They tried not to think about the mile long drop below them, but concentrate on the steep and dangerous path that lay at their feet.
Gimli was in the lead, struggling to lower himself down the tall stairs without falling, testing each step carefully before putting his full weight upon it. His wisdom in stone and rock told him where to grip and what to avoid, but the decent was making him dizzy and unbalanced.
Suddenly there was nothing to stop him, nothing to hold onto as the step beneath him crumpled despite his tests. A silent scream was uttered from his lips as he toppled forward, his arms groping for a hand hold, but found nothing.
Panicking in his helpless state Gimli braced himself as the rocky and deadly path rushed towards him. He closed his eyes expecting pain and death.
But it never came, instead he felt something catch him and pull him up straight, then backwards, settling finally on something soft and distinctly not rock like.
He opened his eyes and looked down, a pair of thin, but strong arms was gripping him around the chest, and he looked over his shoulder and nearly cried at the slight of Legolas's face. But he could remember looking over his shoulder and seeing him several steps behind him, how could he have reached him and pulled him back so quickly?
The grip fell away from his chest and Gimli stood allowing Legolas to move, he wanted to ask him how he did it, but something else completely different distracted him.
There was something very hard and coarse in on of his friend's pockets.
Rubbing his backside where it had bruised him Gimli asked: "What on earth do you have in that pocket? Rocks?" he half joked.
Legolas laughed, "I do actually! I meant to show it earlier but I must have forgotten. Here" he pulled the stone from his pocket, feeling again its angry words and vibrations.
Gimli took the jagged stone from his friends hand and turned it over in his own, his eyes taking in every detail and his face unreadable.
Legolas watched him closely, not sure if he should tell him what he felt when he held it. Gimli stopped turning it in his hands and stared at it, his brow frowned.
"Could you hear it?" he asked looking up at Legolas seriously.
Legolas shook his head: "I could hear its voice but I could not make out its words. It spoke in a dialogue I cannot understand, something ancient I believe."
Gimli nodded, "It is not a language I can understand either. An ancient form of Mordor maybe, I cannot be sure. It does however use some words that sound very familiar to the ancient tongue of dwarves." Gimli said his frown deepening.
"Have you ever heard them before?" Legolas asked.
"No, never, I have felt their feelings and understandings by touch. I doubt you have never experienced this before either?"
Legolas shook his head, this shortened hair slapping his ears. "No, never before have I heard rock and stone speak before only plant life and the wind" he said, watching Gimli stare at the stone. "Can you make anything out?"
The colour suddenly faded from Gimli's face and he threw away the stone with a worried look upon his face.
"What is it?" Legolas asked, alarmed.
Gimli looked up at his faced his friend, his eyes lacking the glitter of hope they had a few minuets ago.
"Sauron has the Ring" he said, struggling to bring out the words, "he is planning a massive attack upon the men of Gondor and Rohan. His army is nearly complete, he has the ruling Ring and is using it"
Legolas took half a step back and turned back to face Mordor, his eyes wide with fear. The signs had pointed to it all along, yet he continued to hope and pray he was reading them incorrectly. Now there was no avoiding or denying the truth. The ancient parts of this world such as tree and stone do not lie.
He turned back to Gimli, "We need to hurry back to Gondor, before it is too late"
But Gimli did not seem to share his confidence, "You saw the army building" he said, "You saw the size of it, do you think we can out run them to Gondor and still have the strength to fight them?" he asked.
Legolas knew the answer, but he was not about to give up. "The changes are slim, but we could. We cannot stand by and let the people suffer and die."
"We won't be able to reach them in time" Gimli pressed. "Even if we had the power of flight we would only just have the time to revive ourselves before the battle would be upon us!"
"But I will not stand by and let my friends die! You may be use to standing by letting the world go past, but I cannot."
"Legolas please, let me finish!" Gimli pleaded catching Legolas's arm before he speed down the stairs. "Even if you arrive in Gondor before the enemy you will not find Aragorn there" he cried.
Legolas snapped his head at him, "Why not?"
Gimli took a deep steadying breath, "Because he is here, in Mordor. The enemy have captured him; he's imprisoned in Barad-dûr with Sam and Gandalf"
Legolas blinked, "You learnt all this from a stone?" he asked in disbelief.
"From more then one" Gimli said, still keeping his grip upon his friend. "If we want to save Gondor and the Free People we have to go into Mordor, we have to free Aragorn, Sam and Gandalf. We need to destroy the Ring"
Legolas crouched upon the stair, shaking his head. "No I don't believe it" he said, "I don't believe he is here. Why, why would he leave Minas Tirith?"
Gimli shook his head, "I don't know, I really don't know, but he has and he is here"
"There is no way we can go into Mordor, Gimli. Even if we manage to free Sam and the others we won't be able to take the Ring, we would die trying"
"There is no other way" Gimli tired, "If we were to go back to Gondor will find it empty and the battle over, the men slain. The only choice we have it go forward, sneak into Mordor and do what we can"
"You don't understand!" Legolas cried, his voice hoarse, "Sauron and Aufstand are expecting us –"
"No, their not, they think we are dead" Gimli hushed him. "We have a chance, we could do this"
Legolas pulled away, his face twisted in and torn between the decision.
***
In the upper level of Barad-dûr Aufstand had lost all her confidence she displayed whilst taunting Aragorn in his small cell. She stood trembling from head to toe the tall, dark, and fearful shape of Sauron was disappointed in her. Disappointment meant punishment which meant pain and torture. She knew this, and watched him walk around her with large fearful eyes.
"I can trust no one it seems" the Dark Lord said pacing around her menacingly. "I never give orcs difficult tasks, other then to kill everything in their paths. It seems you can not even obey a simple order like that" he continued, his face masked by a horridly shaped helmet with face piece and his body hidden under a suite of armour. Aufstand suspected he was itched to get his hands dirty, could not wait until war marched his way, there would be no negotiations, no peace, no treaty, no agreement just blood, sweat and total domination.
"Two of our underground rats you were suppose to have killed are roaming my borders, alive" Sauron ceased pacing and staring at Aufstand who was now visibly trembling.
"I am sorry my Lord" she muttered, nervously. "Forgive me please"
Sauron laughed and threw a fast, sharp punch, catching her chin with a metal gloved hand.
Stifling a scream she gritted her teeth and stood up straight again after being knocked off balance.
"I don't not forgive anyone." Sauron said flatly, flexing the gloved hand he had punched her with. "However, after all you have done I am going to give you another change to raise yourself." He stepped closer and Aufstand trembled more violently then before, though she was doing her best to control herself.
"Go out and kill them. This time make sure they are dead – I will be watching"
Aufstand stepped back and bowed muttering, "Thank you my Lord, so kind of you"
"Do this alone," the Dark Lord added, "you have already wasted enough of my troops"
Aufstand bowed again and hurried out of the room, pale and shaking worse then a leaf in a storm. She descended the winding stairs of the tower at a run, tightening her sword belt and touching her quiver full of arrows and her treasured bow. She paused for a moment at the bottom of the stairs, picking up a pair of knives which she attached to her sword belt. Then hurried outside, to correct her errors, to please her master and end the lives of the troubling pair that still roamed about alive, rubbing her face in her failure.
***
Above the glistening white walls of Minas Tirith the watchman Menvan squinted at the movement on the misty river and called over his colleague for a second opinion. The pair stared hard, through the mists something was stirring on the water. Then the mist parted, bellowing dramatically allowing four tall ships to pass.
"Summon the Steward" Menvan said to his colleague who hurried away.
The white sails of the ships were stretched with the winds pushing them further and faster down river, the tall mast made the distant trees look incredibly small and the powerful wide river look like a small stream.
Faramir and Éomer arrived at Menvan's side watched the vessels as they smoothly sailed down the river towards them and the broken, once glamorous city of Osgiliath.
From aboard the first vessel a horn blasted and Faramir ordered a watchman to reply. The note of the elvish horn wavered and changed, the vessels speeding towards Osgiliath, cloven in half by the river. Elves stood upon the ships decks, their bow strings taut, and their bright eyes watching the riverbanks keenly.
Beside the watchmen Faramir raised a hand over his eyes, focusing on something beyond the ships. There was a moving line of shadows moving steadily towards them from the north, half hidden by the mists that had spread from the river over land. The Steward glanced at Éomer beside him with questioning his eyes, but Elrond's messenger elf had joined them upon the battlement and he smiled.
"Do not fret, by Lords. Those are the remaining forces of the Mirkwood elves, for Sauron and the traitors Cassione and Aufstand attacked them leaving them broken beyond all repair. Many of their number are mortal now, but they still wish to fight, to make a difference even if it costs them their lives"
Faramir nodded silently, he could feel Éomer's eyes watching him. The elves of Mirkwood were role models, for all the men. With the forces of two elven realms and the forces of Rohan and Gondor their army was great, but was enough?
Only time will tell.
The tall elven ships dropped anchor as close to Minas Tirith as possible, for the river bending away from the fortress. Lines of tall, proud, well armed hooded elves streamed into the White City, the numbers from Mirkwood not far behind.
Elrond, Faramir and Éomer inclined their heads to one another. "Two hundred I bring from Rivendell" Elrond said, "A further four hundred more come from Mirkwood"
"Four thousand strong are the Rohirrim, and as it stands seven thousand of Gondor" Éomer said.
Nearly twelve thousand men and elves, it sounded a lot but quietly Faramir began to doubt it would be enough.
They would be lambs to the slaughter.
Reviewers
Alida-Fruit: Thank you again for your review, I am very glad to hear you are hooked upon this story, to tell you the truth so am I! I am currently finishing chapter seven and I am mapping out what should/could/may happen next, though half of the stuff I write just comes straight off my head without planning or anything!
I'm also in the middle of writing some more new stuff which sadly has grounded to a halt. *Sigh* Oh well – must battle onwards! ;))