Disclaimer: I do not own the characters or concepts of Middle Earth; they belong to the estate of JRR Tolkien. Tanathel, however, is my creation and I would like to be asked before she is used in any other fic.
Author's note: This story is set in an Alternate Universe of my own making. It is after the War of the Ring and several years into the Fourth Age. Boromir will feature in this story, and if you wish to learn how he survived, you will have to read. This will be mostly movie-verse, since no one knows what happened to Saruman after the Ents trashed Isengard in PJ's world.
A special thank you is in order, to Ithil-valon, for tireless beta-reading and endless encouragement. Thanks so much for being a sounding board, hon, I really appreciate it!
Dedications: To Evendim, who helped me find the courage to seriously write in this fandom, and who has given me great fun with her own AU series. And to my darling AJ, without whom I would never have had the courage to allow my stories to see the light of day. I couldn't have done it without you, ladies, and I love you both for it. Don't ever change.
Revolution and Retribution
Chapter Seventeen
(The Gates of Minas Tirith - Outside)
Eomer called the column to a halt and looked to Aragorn. Aragorn merely nodded, and the leaders urged their horses forward, stopping just outside the range of the archers on the wall.
"Hear me!" Aragorn thundered, his eyes on the walls. "Elessar Telcontar, Aragorn, son of Arathorn, Rightful King of Gondor, bids you surrender your weapons and open the Gates of the City!"
Silence was his only answer. Silence, and an uneasy shifting of the men on the wall.
Aragorn looked to Eomer, who only shrugged. "We knew it would not be so easy," he said softly.
Aragorn nodded and turned his attention back to the guards. "So be it. This city is under siege. None shall leave, none shall enter, until it is surrendered back to its rightful ruler." He felt Tanathel's nod at his back and turned his mount, returning to the troops.
Eomer's voice boomed out. "Take your assigned positions. No one is to pass the lines."
Aragorn dismounted as Tanathel slid from the back of the stallion and faced her squarely. "There is one small alteration I will make to Faramir's plan," he announced as he watched her prepare to re-enter the tunnels into the city. "I am going with you."
"No!" The denial was heard clearly from all sides of him. Tanathel whirled and glared at him, her blade half-fastened at her waist. "Absolutely not, Sire," she spat as she finished with the belt. "You cannot be risked, not now."
"She is right, Aragorn." Eomer's voice was calmer, though it also carried steel. "You cannot be risked. You are all Gondor has. You cannot take such a chance yet."
"Easy, laddie. It's hard to watch others do the dirty work, aye, but it needs to be done."
Voices crowded him from all sides, all voicing the same concern, that he was too valuable to risk. He silenced them all with the weight of his gaze. "I will ask no one to undertake what I would not risk myself. I am going, and that is the end of it."
It was silent for a long moment, and he gave a thought to their objections. They all made sense, all of them; but he had to do this. He had failed Boromir once before; he would not again. If there was a chance he could be saved, then Aragorn had to try. He took a deep breath. "If the worst should happen, Faramir shall stand as my heir. That is my wish; see that it goes uncontested. Tanathel?"
She glared at him for a moment more, then threw up her hands. "Let's go, then, if we can't talk you out of this madness. But once in the tunnels, my Lord, you must follow my lead. I know them better than you do."
"Do you so?" Aragorn's voice was tinged with humor. "I am the High King, Tanathel. I know these tunnels quite well. Come, let us find Faramir."
(Minas Tirith, the Tunnels near the Citadel)
Pippin knelt next to the bound Boromir and quickly untied the rope connecting his wrists and ankles. "He should be awake by now. I didn't hit him that hard, and the rock certainly wasn't that heavy."
Faramir helped him roll Boromir over and they both backed up a step as the sheer malevolence in those green eyes hit them. "Well, we won't be taking the gag off anytime soon, I'd say," Pippin murmured nervously. "Well, then, Faramir, what would you suggest?"
"I think we should get him out of sight, as well as ourselves," Faramir hissed as he took one arm and gestured for Pippin to do the same. "We don't dare untie him yet. And we have no way of telling who will be next down this tunnel. Come, this way. There's an exit up ahead that will take us into the stables again."
"Not that way. Listen." Pippin had heard what they had both been dreading. There was open fighting in the streets above them. "It sounds like your men are enjoying their work."
Pippin's eyes met Faramir's as they simultaneously reached the same conclusion. Aragorn! If anyone could reach Boromir, it would be Aragorn. They had to get him back into the City somehow.
"I will stay with Boromir," Pippin said firmly as he watched Faramir's face. "You go and collect Tanathel, do what you must. We'll be all right here. But the sooner we get Aragorn back into the city, the sooner we can help your brother."
Faramir turned Boromir's face to his, forcing himself not to flinch at the hatred he saw there. It couldn't be Boromir's emotion. "I do not know if you can understand me through his control, but you must try. We will help you all we can. Aragorn is coming." Was that a flash of hope in those green eyes? Surely it had been. He then turned his attention back to his brave little hobbit and nodded. "I will bring him to you as soon as I can. Be safe, the both of you."
As they watched him move away, Pippin remarked idly, "So, what should I tell you about first? I know! Let me tell you about the Shire."
(Minas Tirith - Boromir)
Boromir railed against the wizard's control, but could do nothing. He had not the strength to repel Saruman, not once he had taken full control.
He supposed he ought to be thankful for Pippin's well-placed stone; although his head felt a few sizes larger than it had before. Wait, what was Faramir saying? Aragorn? Aragorn was coming here!
Even Pippin's chatter couldn't blot the hope he felt surging through him. Aragorn would be able to help him, he knew it deep in his bones. Oh, he could hear every word the Hobbit spoke, and was grateful for the distraction, but nothing could dampen his spirits now. Not even the wizard, seeking to control every portion of him. He found himself pushing harder against Saruman's controls, feeling himself gain ground, if only slightly.
"Why do you persist, Boromir?" the wizard crooned in his mind. "You are lost. You are mine. No one can change this, not even that ragged Dunedain."
"I persist because you are foul, and you should be sent into the abyss where you belong," Boromir snapped back. "I will never stop fighting you. And you should be afraid, Saruman. That ragged Dunedain, as you call him, is my King. I would follow him into the very fires of Mordor, should he ask it of me. And until Aragorn himself should tell me to cease resisting, I will not!"
He gave a desperate shove against the barriers the Istari had placed around him and felt them shatter. The pain was beyond belief; a hoarse cry was torn from his throat and Pippin was instantly beside him again. "Boromir? Boromir, how do I know it's really you?" The hobbit's voice was strained with worry.
Boromir tried to indicate that Pippin should take the gag off, but the Halfling just stared at him. Boromir supposed he'd do the same, in this situation, but it didn't ease his frustration any. How to get that cheeky little sprat to turn him loose?
He managed to lock his eyes with Pippin's, hoping his little one would be able to read them. Of all the Fellowship, his bond with his little ones was the strongest. Pippin had to see, had to understand!
He watched the hobbit wrestle with himself for long moments, knowing the conflict in his friend's mind, wishing he could reassure him. But the decision had to be Pippin's, he knew. Pippin had to understand that Boromir was no longer a threat to him.
Boromir could have wept with relief when Pippin finally reached up and loosed the gag. He spat it out and took several deep breaths. "Untie me, Pippin," he urged. "Hurry!"
TBC
