Chapter Sixteen:
Aragorn paused on top of the rise and squinted out at the ground the
Company has yet to tread. Faramir soon joined him, and together, they stood
and examined what they could see. The sky was growing thick with black
clouds, which were rolling out from the skies of Mordor. Faramir closed his
eyes, arms held slightly apart from his body, palms facing out. He drew
deep, steady breaths, and let them go, not making a sound. Aragorn bend and
crouched over the dusty ground. He scooped a handful of dust and rose to
stand once again. Faramir opened his eyes and watched as Aragorn let the
dust trickle slowly out of his fist, the particles catching in the breeze
and floating away. Aragorn looked at Faramir and they nodded at each other.
Aragorn turned to the Fellowship who, by that stage, had gathered behind
them, and spoke.
"It has begun."
The four Hobbits nodded grimly, and Gimli made a disgruntled sound in the back of his throat. Aragorn looked at Gimli expectantly, waiting for him to speak his piece. "It seems that the Elf has started early." Aragorn's face turned grim at that thought and clapped a hand on Gimli's solid shoulder. "Let us hope then, that we are not too late to see it end." Gimli grunted in response. Aragorn strode out from the pack, up the incline, to, once again, face the way the Company were yet to travel.
"It seems that today has been chosen as the day that the final campaign is to be fought. It may well be that we do not all return from these times. I advise that we go in the name of Ilúvatar, the maker of all, and fight for what we all stand for. Fight for the freedom of our families and loved ones. Fight for the right to be safe in our homelands, and free from the threat of darkness. But above all else, I say we fight for brotherhood, and for the bonds created in times like this. We must fight together, to go and lend our aid to Legolas and Kayla, and indeed Gandalf, who have, at this time, already entered the battle."
It was evident, through those words, why Aragorn had become one of the most fames rulers Middle Earth had seen. He has put all his feeling and nobility into those words, and he was indeed ready to face the final fight. The Hobbits tightened their belts, and Gimli straightened his mail. Faramir half-drew his sword from its scabbard and then replaced it. Each member still remaining in the group of the Fellowship looked at the other members, and then looked to Aragorn for guidance. They were not long waiting.
"Over that next rise," Aragorn began, "will be where we will meet up with Legolas and Kayla." "The Black Gates," Frodo breathed. "I never thought I'd have to look at those wretched things again." "Not to worry, Mr Frodo. This'll be the last time you'll have to look at them, I assure you," Sam said, trying to reassure his friend. Aragorn continued with his address. "It will be hard going. We are sure to be sorely outnumbered, and fighting in the enemy's territory. My advice to you consists of this. It would be to your advantage to stay as close to each other as you can manage. Do not take any unnecessary risks, and try to conserve you energies for as long as possible. This is going to be a long fight, and I pray that we will all return from it. But the time for speeches is over. Long have we been needed on the field of battle. I bid we make haste to the aid of our friends."
With that, the somewhat odd-matched band of travellers set out, once more, to the aid of the rest of their Company. The trek was fairly easy, and as the group gathered on the top of the rise, with the battle scene spread out before them, they were glad for it. They would need every ounce of strength they could muster, and then some, if they were to get out of the fight alive.
Gimli, ever the warrior, took a firm grip on the handle of his Mithril- wrought axe. Frodo, Sam, Pippin and Merry looked glumly at the prospects they were about to face and looked about at each other and then looked back over the edge of the rise. Faramir took a steadying breath and drew his sword. He thought of Éowyn, his much loved wife, and drew courage from the knowledge of her strength and fortitude in battle. Aragorn whispered a prayer to the kings of old, that they watch over him and his Company and give them the strength to outlast the fight. He, too, drew his sword and gave the command to enter the battle.
The four Hobbits nodded grimly, and Gimli made a disgruntled sound in the back of his throat. Aragorn looked at Gimli expectantly, waiting for him to speak his piece. "It seems that the Elf has started early." Aragorn's face turned grim at that thought and clapped a hand on Gimli's solid shoulder. "Let us hope then, that we are not too late to see it end." Gimli grunted in response. Aragorn strode out from the pack, up the incline, to, once again, face the way the Company were yet to travel.
"It seems that today has been chosen as the day that the final campaign is to be fought. It may well be that we do not all return from these times. I advise that we go in the name of Ilúvatar, the maker of all, and fight for what we all stand for. Fight for the freedom of our families and loved ones. Fight for the right to be safe in our homelands, and free from the threat of darkness. But above all else, I say we fight for brotherhood, and for the bonds created in times like this. We must fight together, to go and lend our aid to Legolas and Kayla, and indeed Gandalf, who have, at this time, already entered the battle."
It was evident, through those words, why Aragorn had become one of the most fames rulers Middle Earth had seen. He has put all his feeling and nobility into those words, and he was indeed ready to face the final fight. The Hobbits tightened their belts, and Gimli straightened his mail. Faramir half-drew his sword from its scabbard and then replaced it. Each member still remaining in the group of the Fellowship looked at the other members, and then looked to Aragorn for guidance. They were not long waiting.
"Over that next rise," Aragorn began, "will be where we will meet up with Legolas and Kayla." "The Black Gates," Frodo breathed. "I never thought I'd have to look at those wretched things again." "Not to worry, Mr Frodo. This'll be the last time you'll have to look at them, I assure you," Sam said, trying to reassure his friend. Aragorn continued with his address. "It will be hard going. We are sure to be sorely outnumbered, and fighting in the enemy's territory. My advice to you consists of this. It would be to your advantage to stay as close to each other as you can manage. Do not take any unnecessary risks, and try to conserve you energies for as long as possible. This is going to be a long fight, and I pray that we will all return from it. But the time for speeches is over. Long have we been needed on the field of battle. I bid we make haste to the aid of our friends."
With that, the somewhat odd-matched band of travellers set out, once more, to the aid of the rest of their Company. The trek was fairly easy, and as the group gathered on the top of the rise, with the battle scene spread out before them, they were glad for it. They would need every ounce of strength they could muster, and then some, if they were to get out of the fight alive.
Gimli, ever the warrior, took a firm grip on the handle of his Mithril- wrought axe. Frodo, Sam, Pippin and Merry looked glumly at the prospects they were about to face and looked about at each other and then looked back over the edge of the rise. Faramir took a steadying breath and drew his sword. He thought of Éowyn, his much loved wife, and drew courage from the knowledge of her strength and fortitude in battle. Aragorn whispered a prayer to the kings of old, that they watch over him and his Company and give them the strength to outlast the fight. He, too, drew his sword and gave the command to enter the battle.