Hello all, sorry this took so long. But real life interfered and I hit some major writer's block. I couldn't seem to write anything for any of the fics I'm writing. Luckily, I've pulled out of the funk. Next chapter will be up next Sunday. I can promise because I've already got it written. :)
Review Responses:
TheChosenOne1987, general mac, thank you for your reviews.
John, yeah Aragorn's names have a lot to do with hiding. But Tolkien also had the habit of giving a lot of his characters multiple names, and even changing them after they performed great deeds. It was very confusing the first time I read any of his stuff.
Kyra2, you know me, things will never be completely easy for all my characters all the time. I'm afraid there is something nasty planned for Ginny in the future.
LOTR Notes:
Mithrandir, another name for Gandalf. Strangely enough, it's an Elvish name and usually only the men of Gondor use the term.
Special thanks to my beta, PuNKyCoWGiRL!
Chapter Twenty-Nine
New Bonds
Faith blinked several times as she oriented herself from her peaceful sleep. She found herself in an unusual position, but didn't exactly mind it. She was curled up next to a half-naked man.
A smile tugged at her lips even as fear tugged at her heart as she listened to Remus' soft breathing. She had never woken up in a man's arms before, let alone one she didn't have sex with first. It was a strange feeling but one she could easily get used to.
She wasn't exactly sure when she fell for the werewolf, especially since she had never harbored these types of feelings before. It must have happened somewhere between him accepting her past and then accepting her. He gave her so much and yet asked for nothing in return.
It scared her though. Now that he found a place in her heart she was worried that he'd leave. She had seen it happen time and again with her mother as she grew up. Her mother had spent most of her time crying over one man or another before finally killing herself. Faith had sworn then that she'd never let a man control her emotions that way. And she had been successful, until now.
Not that Remus was actually in control of her, but he had stirred her emotions into something unknown and scary. There was so much potential for her to get hurt, but also for her to be truly happy. It was a rather daunting decision placed in front of her. Stay with the caring, handsome man and be happy or eventually heartbroken. Or walk away now and never and know what might have been.
Her stomach tightened in panic as Remus stirred and slowly opened his eyes. He blinked several times to focus and then smiled at her. "Good morning," he said softly as he reached to move a tendril of her dark hair off of her face.
To Faith's own surprise, she nuzzled his hand with her cheek. "Mornin'," she replied as her stomach unclenched.
"So no problems last night I see."
"Nope, you were one gentle puppy," she replied. Her eyes slid shut as he continued to run his fingers through her thick hair. It was relaxing enough that she'd fall back asleep if he kept it up.
"I don't think anyone has ever referred to my wolf form as a puppy," he said with a chuckle.
"First time for everything," she said sleepily. With a struggle, she opened her eyes and looked seriously at him. "Now what?"
His hand stopped and he studied her for several long seconds. "I thought we'd get dressed and head down to breakfast... together."
She smiled. "Together... I like that."
It was midday when the Rohirrim, along with Spike, Draco, and Ginny, arrived at Dunharrow. It was less like a city and more akin to a camp that was settled at the base of the White Mountains. Tents were pitched everywhere and there were thousands of men and horses bustling about.
As Théoden rode among his men, voices called out with the number of men who had answered the muster. "Five hundred men from the Westfall." "We have three hundred more from Fenmarch, Théoden King."
Ginny only barely heard the numbers for the four day trek had left her saddle weary. They had not ridden hard, but had covered a great deal of distance through the mountains with little rest. A glance over at Draco told her that he was only fairing slightly better.
They rode on until they reached a sheer cliff. Ginny was surprised to see a narrow road winding its way up. The king and his guards led the way up the cliff. The road criss-crossed the face of the cliff and each turn caused the redhead to grit her teeth. Over the past several days she had become comfortable in the saddle, but the hazardous road caused her anxiety to return.
After an hour, they reached the top to find that there was another camp set up on a shelf that overlooked the field below.
"Very defensible," Spike said approvingly as he looked over the edge. "As long as you have men up here to defend it, an enemy could never take this place. Unless they came from behind."
"That would be impossible, Master Spike," Théoden said. "For just behind us is the road that leads to the Paths of the Dead, the Dimholt Road. No one who has entered it, have ever made it out."
Spiked sent the king a scathing glare. "Draco's girlfriend, a young lady who I love dearly, just entered it yesterday."
"I know," Théoden said sadly. "But it has also been said that when the time was right, one man would survive the Road. Perhaps Aragorn is that man." Then he turned and entered his tent.
The vampire turned and tried to smile encouragingly at Draco and Ginny, but it never reached his eyes. With a nod, he followed Théoden into the tent.
Draco and Ginny silently made their way through the camp to see for themselves the Dimholt Road. A cold wind blew around them, causing them to shiver as they felt the ancient magic hidden along the path.
"Have you heard from her?" Ginny asked softly, partially in fear of disturbing the ghosts that guarded the entrance, and partially because she was being mindful of Draco's feelings.
"Not since yesterday when she contacted me just before entering the Mountain. She said it might be a while before she could again," he whispered, his frightened eyes staring down the path.
Ginny slipped her arm around his waist and leaned into him. "I'm sure she's fine. She's got thirty Rangers with her. Not to mention Legolas, Gimli, and Aragorn will watch her back."
A faint smile tugged on Draco's lips. "Yeah. It's not like my girl can't kick ass all on her own either."
She giggled softly and then sighed. "It's not fair to be separated from them, " she said, thinking about Harry.
"No, it's not," he agreed.
"It's also not fair that mine went towards safety while yours is wandering a path that no one has ever left alive."
"Does add to the suck factor." He looked down at her. "At least I've got my best friend with me."
She grinned up at him. "Yeah, there's luck in that. But who's this best friend you speak of?" She asked, just before running nimbly away.
"Why you..." he said with a grin, chasing after her. Their laughter echoing through the camp.
"The beacons of Gondor were lit yesterday evening," a soldier told Théoden. "Gondor is calling for aid."
Théoden solemnly nodded. "I had hoped for another few days to increase our number, but there is no more time. We ride in the morning. Send out word to the men to prepare."
The soldier nodded and left.
"The beacons of Gondor?" Spike asked.
"They are pyres stretched across the land. They are lit whenever aid is needed in another land," the king explained.
"Handy."
"Well Master Spike, it appears you will be reunited with your lady ere long, provided you both survive until then," Théoden said calmly, although his body was filled with tension.
"There is no hope for us, is there? We cannot defeat the armies of Mordor," Gamling said.
"No, we have no hope of winning, but we will meet them in battle nonetheless," Théoden said, steel in his voice. "We will give them such an end that songs are made of."
Spike grimly nodded and agreed. He sent out a silent prayer that Willow and Tara found the Ring soon, things in Middle Earth were looking bleak.
Harry could only stare at the sight before him in amazement. The mountain before them had a natural outgrowth and around it, the city of Minas Tirith seemed to be carved directly into it. At the very top, behind the last wall, rose a tower.
Gandalf had explained the layout of the city that morning while they rode nearer. They would have to pass through many defensive walls to reach the top. They would receive quite the tour of Minas Tirith since the gate in each wall was on different ends of the city, instead of being in a direct line.
As they rode through the city, many people stopped to watch them, but none interfered. When they reached the last gate, they dismounted since horses were not allowed in the top level, known as the Citadel. They walked through a large courtyard that contained a fountain and a sing white tree that carried no bloom. Seven men dressed in black guarded it.
Buffy thought that the tree looked rather pathetic, but understood why the people of Gondor clung to it. She gave the guards a cursory glance as they walked towards the tower on the other side.
Gandalf paused in front of the doors to the tower. He looked down at Pippin and said, "Now listen carefully. Lord Denethor is not the king, he is a steward - a caretaker of the throne. He is Boromir's father. To give him news of his beloved son's death would be most unwise." He moved to go in, but stopped again. "And do not mention Frodo, or the Ring... And say nothing of Aragorn either." After several seconds of consideration, he added. "In fact, it's better if you don't speak at all Peregrin Took."
Then the wizard turned his eyes to Buffy and Harry. "It would be wise to not mention where you are truly from. Only that you hail from a distant land."
"Sounds good to me," Buffy said with a shrug. "If it causes less problems for us, then I'm all for it."
Gandalf nodded, but hesitated again. "And please try holding your tongue, Buffy. Lord Denethor is a proud man and will say much that will upset you. But I fear that darker things are happening here than I at first believed. It's best not to say anything until we finally understand where matters stand."
The tiny slayer glared at him for a moment and then nodded. She had a feeling that arguing with the Steward would only bring her more headaches. "Whatever, let's just do this."
He opened the door and the four entered a long hallway. Along the sides stood tall statues of the former kings of Gondor like silent sentries. At the end of the hall, there was a tall door of polished metal. Gandalf paused for a moment and took a deep breath before knocking.
The door swung open and they walked through. They saw a large throne sitting atop a tall dais with a smaller stone chair sitting below it. An old man sat in it, looking at an object in his lap. He did not look up at their entrance and Gandalf stopped several feet away from him.
"Hail Lord and Steward of Minas Tirith, Denethor son of Ecthelion. I come with counsel and tidings in this dark hour."
Denethor finally looked up with sad eyes. "Dark indeed is the hour and at such times you are wont to come, Mithrandir. Perhaps you come to tell me why my son is dead." He held up the broken object from his lap.
"That is the horn that Boromir always wore!" Pippin cried.
The Steward nodded sadly.
With a determined set of his chin, Pippin moved forward and went down on one knee. "Boromir died to save us, my kinsmen and me. He fell defending us from many foes."
"Pippin," Gandalf whispered harshly.
"I offer you my service, such as it is, in payment of this debt," Pippin continued, ignoring Gandalf.
Buffy moved to lift him off the floor, but he shook her off. "I don't think this is such a good idea, Pippin," she whispered.
"It is the least I could do," Pippin argued to her before turning back to Denethor. With pride in his voice he said, "Little service, no doubt, will so great a lord of men think to find in a hobbit, a halfling from the northern Shire; yet such as it is, I offer it." He drew forth his small sword and laid it at Denethor's feet.
Denethor studied him for several long minutes before a pale smile appeared. "I see that strange tales are woven about you and once again it is shown that looks may belie the man - or the halfling. I accept your service. Swear to me now."
Gandalf sighed. "Take the hilt and speak after the Lord, if you are resolved in this."
"I am," said Pippin.
The Denethor laid the sword across his lap and Pippin placed his hand to the hilt. Then he repeated slowly after Denethor. "Here do I swear fealty and service to Gondor, and to the Lord and Steward of the realm, to speak and to be silent, to do and to let be, to come and to go, in need or plenty, in peace or war, in living or dying, from this hour henceforth, until my lord release me, or death take me, or the world end. So say I, Peregrin son of Paladin of the Shire of the Halflings."
"And this I do hear, Denethor son of Ecthelion, Lord of Gondor, Steward of the High King, and I will not forget it, nor fail to reward that which is given: fealty with love, valor with honor, oath-breaking with vengeance."
Then Pippin received back his sword and he sheathed it, a new light of pride in his eyes.
Denethor smiled down at him. "And now my first command to you: speak and be not silent. Tell me the full tale of Boromir and introduce your friends here."
Gandalf interrupted. "My lord, we have not the time for this, there are more pressing matters."
"That may be," Denethor said, his dark eyes narrowing dangerously. "But at the moment, to me, this is pressing. We may speak again at the end of the day."
For the next hour, Buffy was forced to bite her tongue and hold her hands back to keep her from doing something rash. What she really wanted to do was wring Pippin's neck for doing such a foolish thing. Denethor asked Pippin a lot of questions about Boromir and listened with rapt attention. She was sure he was digging for something, she just didn't know what.
When the steward's curiosity was satisfied, he called to one of his serving men. "Lead the Lord Mithrandir to the room prepared for him. His companions may lodge with him and in the room next door." He turned to Gandalf. "We will speak again soon," he said, excusing them from his presence.
Gandalf barely controlled his seething anger as they were led out of the great hall and to their rooms.