Author's note: I own nothing, I make nothing.

Chapter Two. The White Tree

The weather was dreary by the third morning, and the path they were taking was not the one to Mordor. They were headed north...

Aragorn watched what was happening around him in confusion. Part of him was sleeping now, gaining strength... the Witch King? He stood slowly, not wanting to attract the Nazgul's attention.
Beside where he had lay, the one called Khamul was intently studying a map. His gauntleted fingers tapping first one spot than the other. He hissed in agitation, and the sound was copied by the other riders without pause. Aragorn backed away, turned, and walked almost right into another of the foul creatures.

Unwilling to back down he met its eyes, knew them, knew that face…"Ji Indur." The wraith made no sign that he had heard. He turned, and motioned Aragorn to follow.
The king paused, the other riders had not seemed to notice this little scene take place, and the odds were better against one than against seven... Aragorn followed.

Minas Tirith: The Citadel

"So we ride for Mordor as well, so be it! I will not be left behind!"

Faramir turned, his patience worn thin over the day. "You will not join us Eowyn, for your arm has not healed, and we need our numbers few as so not to draw attention!"

She scoffed, glaring daggers at the sling. "I can ride with it! And the city already knows something has gone wrong Faramir! The Ringwraiths destroyed part of the gate when they came for Aragorn! And need I remind you, that in the Kings absence you are supposed to be responsible? But you will ride off and leave your city unprotected!"

The two stood fuming at each other, a somewhat frightened Legolas wondered if he should say anything...

"... Well." Gimli stroked his beard, "We don't doubt your skills, but the Lady Arwen is in need of company. And seeing how so many of us are going..."

Eowyn turned to Gimli with a silent glare.

"I must side with him there Eowyn, she is bereft and even I cannot console her, I fear the thought of leaving her alone..." Legolas held her eyes for a moment. She felt the despair in him, his anger at the Nazgul, and his helplessness with Arwen..."

"Fine, for Arwen, I will stay behind. She should not be left alone like this."

With warm eyes Legolas thanked her, before turning back to Faramir. "So it is decided?"

The steward of Gondor nodded, looking worn from the day's conflicts. "It is decided, we will depart probably by evening. And travel both day and night. Gandalf believes they may stop during the day, so we may yet gain on them."

Legolas nodded, looking over at Gimli. "Other than those who stand here and Gandalf, who else will be coming?"

"Ah, so it was assumed I was coming?" All turned surprised; Gandalf was watching them from the corner of the room, his eyes sad.

"But Gandalf! Surely you aren't going to sit here and watch!" Gimli sputtered, stunned.

The wizard sighed. "Unfortunately my friends, I have no choice. I cannot ride like this, for now..." He took his hand from the wall, walked forward, and would have crumpled to the floor had Faramir not been close enough to grab him. "...I would only slow you down, as you can see..."
The others nodded, their hearts sore. To leave Gandalf..."But I will be with you! Have no doubt of that, here…"

Faramir took the trinket from the Wizard with a mixture of confusion and worry. Like the others, he had assumed that being what he was, Gandalf would heal very quickly, and his heart lay heavily in his breast at the thought of leaving him behind. "I, I am not sure what to do with this Gandalf."

The wizard smiled. "You will know when you need to Know, and fear not Faramir, I will join you as soon as I can."

Later that night, In the Citadel

"So we leave tonight before the dawn, and ride toward Mordor. There is a rift, we cannot cross it easily… if you all recall, the eagles took us across it on the return march. But we do not have their assistance now." Faramir looked up from his map. "Are we agreed?"

Gimli nodded, "We head toward the north then? They must be taking the same trail as we will; they came on horses, after all."

Legolas nodded, "That will lead us to Cair Andros. They were struck hard, and are probably rebuilding. But they may restock us and trade us for fresh horses."

Faramir rolled the map back into its binding, and tied it to his belt. "We will at least know where they must pass, an advantage that I am glad to have."

"Faramir," Legolas smiled slowly. "Has anyone told the hobbits that they will not be coming?"

The steward turned slightly pale. "Well... now that it is mentioned... it seems to have slipped my..."

Legolas shot him a look somewhere between pity and amusement. "Shall I tell them? I believe that Marry will be slightly irked at being left behind..."

Faramir shot him a look, "Must you tease me? I have no doubt that whoever delivers the news to them will be poked to death by several small but pointy swords!"

… … …Legolas and Gimli exchanged a short glance, before laughing outright. "You fear the short pointy swords?! Or the hobbits that use them?! Faramir... are you well this day?" The steward shot them both one more indignant look before leaving to face the hobbits wrath. Legolas shook his head, "Hahhaahahaha... Poor Faramir! They will surely eat him alive! And nevermore shall he be seen by ones such as we!! Hahahahahhaa!!"

The White Tree

Frodo sat silently as Faramir spoke to the others, barely hearing their protests and remarks. He watched the tree.
Why a tree? Why a white tree? Oh yes there was a poem of old, of someone bringing things to middle earth, and among them only one white tree was brought... but it seemed to him their must be more... More to the tree. "Through darkness you stand... and perils uncounted... a symbol of hope, of life... these you teach."
Pippin and Merry seemed to have joined forces to battle Faramir, while Sam stood back torn between wanting to go, and wanting to stay... "Yet now it seems, the stakes are mounted... to high, to high for even your branches to reach..."
Sam turned as he spotted Gandalf enter the courtyard; he leaned more heavily on his staff than ever before. He moved toward him, but was stopped by a feeling that bade him go no further. "And black is the color that seeps from you now, a stench, like sulfur, wafts from your flowers..." Frodo's eyes, already dark, closed in dismay as another bulb fell stillborn, never to bloom into a sign of life... "To the fate of your king your trunk will bow... and break..." Faramir and the others had turned silently; from the tower Legolas and Gimli emerged to see what had delayed the steward. ... "Break within his final hours..."

A hand descended on Frodo's shoulder. Surprised he looked up into Gandalf's fathomless eyes, they were bright, bright like the stars, and Frodo felt their warmth enter his.

"Frodo... such is not the fate of the white tree..." The wizard lowered himself onto the bench. Gently, he raised the bulb from the ground. "For lo, even when all hope seems lost, the dimmest lights can shine the brightest, though pain be deep, and grief dwell long, the bands of friendship hold the tightest... Inside the heart... of those, who love, the burden of fear will lie the lightest." He raised himself and placed the bulb back to where it had grown. For a moment the futility of the gesture struck them, only to bounce back as a cry of wonder when he removed his hands and the bulb remained in place. "And always remember, if there is peace within a soul, the soul will never die."