III

The way was dark. The only light he had was his staff and even that had dimmed. He could feel the presence of souls all about him, turned restless by the horrors of war and life. Gandalf continued on.

"You come here unbidden, White Wizard," a voice murmured in his ear. "Whom do you seek?"

"Boromir of Gondor," Gandalf answered.

"He has long been watching you," the voice, distinctly female now. Though he could not bring himself to recognize it, he was sure that she had seen him before. "You and the Fellowship. He has longed for your company."

"Quickly now," Gandalf ordered, "and I shall help him gain what he wishes."

"You think to take him from this place?"

"Bring him forth."

"I cannot. Not even for you."

"Very well," the Wizard murmured as he set the tip of his staff on the leaf-covered ground. He chanted softly, the glow from the staff gaining power and burst through the darkness.

"Alright!" the voice seemed to gasp. "Patience! And peace! Enough suffering here without bringing the light to burn our eyes… Your white light…"

"Then you will bring him."

"I will bring him."

There was a swirl of leaves and mist and Gandalf held his hand before his eyes. When he moved it again he saw one he had not seen in far too long. "Boromir."

The Son of Gondor grinned widely. "You! And we thought you dead!" he said jovially. "What are you doing here, Gandalf?"

"I've come for you."

"For me?" Boromir echoed. "Is that possible?"

The Wizard gave a knowing smile that told him that no, under normal circumstances, but he had always pulled strings before to get what he wanted. The Man grinned. "Then I thank you, but tell me, when you left from Minas Tirith, did you hear anything of Faramir? They gave me sight over my home, but only that. He was due home two days ago, from what they've said."

"No, in two days."

"Truly? Time means so little here… I loose track of it."

"Then we must not do so now. You are much missed by your friends."

"Then we shall leave? Just like that? No one will stop us?"

"Oh, they might try," Gandalf chuckled.

"But you can't take him alone!" the voice from earlier whispered into the cool air. "The balance shall be off."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Boromir growled, irritated by a voice he'd long heard.

"As Galadriel, the Lady of Light said! It is what she spoke of."

"For all her riddles," Gandalf grumbled. "And what, prey tell, should we do to correct the balance?"

"Father and son shall not be parted."

Both Wizard and Man turned to see Denethor, former Steward of Gondor standing with his eyes locked on Boromir.

"Then away with us, if that is all I have to suffer. But understand this, Lord Denethor, you hold no power in Gondor. The King has returned and named a new Steward."

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"My Lord…" a hesitant voice came through the throne room.

Aragorn looked up from the papers he'd been working on, keen eyes locking onto the frightened boy-soldier that stood at the door. He forced his expression to soften and motioned for the boy to enter. "Yes?"

"M-my K-king El-Elessar," the boy stuttered, "there are many men approaching Minas Tirith."

"Many men?" Aragorn repeated, standing from his seat. "From what direction? What flag? Speak boy!"

"I don't know, my King! They sent me to fetch you… They would have sent for L-lord Faramir, but he is s-still away, Sire."

"Thank you, then. You've done well," Aragorn murmured as he moved past the shaking lad and out the door. He'd expected Faramir's return to come quickly, but he could not wait if there was an enemy riding. He would very much miss his Steward fighting at his side, but perhaps it might not come to that…

"My Lord!" the boy called out suddenly.

"Yes?"

"I f-forgot to tell you, Sire…"

"Well speak up."

"The White Wizard Mithrandir has r-returned, Sire. With two others, though who I dare not say! Surely he walks with ghosts!"

"Ghosts?" he asked, but the lad was gone. He shook his head and continued down the hall and into the large room in which he knew he'd find the rest of the Fellowship.

"Gandalf's back and there's an army coming!" Pippin announced as the King entered room.

"So I hear, on both accounts." He turned to the Wizard. "What news, Gandalf?"

"I have little of the approaching enemy, other than they are an army ready to wage war."

"Yes!" Pippin all but shouted. "And-"

"Not now, Pippin!" Merry and Sam growled out together, causing the overly excited Hobbit to shrink back.

"I just wanted to tell him about Boromir…"

Aragorn's eyes flashed suddenly. "Boromir?"

"Well the surprise was thrown out the window when we found an attacking army," Boromir said as he stepped into view. "It was going to be a marvelous entry, but…"

"Boromir…" the King breathed. "Is that you? Truly you?"

The other Man grinned. "Yes, it should be. I will tell you that having a White Wizard march into the Soul's Forest is the most interesting thing I've seen yet."

Aragorn crossed the space between them and pulled his friend into a tight embrace. "It is good to have you here."

"And look here! I return just in time for battle! Has my brother come home yet? I truly wish to fight along side with him."

"Faramir is still away, but should return shortly," Aragorn answered as he motioned for the others to follow him out the door. "We should prepare."

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Faramir felt the horse he had ridden on slow to a trot and his eyes fluttered open. It hurt… That was his one thought at first. His entire body was on fire with the slow creeping poison running in his veins. They'd stopped only once when they had seen their captive nearly fall off his ride. It had been then that they'd bandaged the wound to staunch the bleeding. That had, thankfully, been early on. They wanted him dead, that was true, but not before they made their way to the city gates.

"Your king will weep for you?" one of the creatures asked tauntingly.

Faramir, struggling to keep his breathing regular, could do no more than glare. He knew they were approaching the gates and he felt the creature drag him off the horse and to his own, draped across the beast in the most uncomfortable of fashions. They stood, these horrible creatures, and called out to the city. To Aragorn. "King Elessar of Gondor! Come see what prize we've taken from your kingdom!"

The king in question appeared on his high walls, dressed not in kingly robes but in those that he wore to battle a year before. He stood with his head high and defiant of any enemy that might march on his city. The city he had sworn to protect. His proud eyes grew wide as the creature pulled Faramir free and threw him to the ground. The Steward landed hard and lay there.

"Will you surrender?"

"I tell you this: while I stand no man or beast shall take this city!" Aragorn declared loudly, nodding to the archers on the walls. The arrows flew and the battle began.

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Aragorn touched few steps on his race down to the lowest level of the city. Boromir met him half way. "I will go get him."

"He looked barely alive, if at all," the King murmured. "But we will bring him into the walls."

"I will not let them kill him," Boromir growled. "They will not have my brother." That vowed, he moved to the gate, fully ready to take on the army by himself in need arose.

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Lindahoyland: Ah… My spelling is always bad. I always get words mixed up. Very sorry and thank you for the corrections. Thanks for the review :)