A/N: First off, sorry about the long wait, but it became one of our longer chapters because we decided we wanted to end it a certain way. Beyond that, we're trying to finish the movie so we can get into the rest of the story so the next few chapters may be longer in length and may take a bit longer to write. Plus, with Brina working full-time and me (Becky) doing daycare all day, our time is somewhat limited.
A/N 2: I'll warn you now, I'm not totally happy with the way the battle scene later in the chapter turned out but considering I can't make it any better (or don't have the patience to, moreover) I'm not going to re-write it so it will have to do.
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Chapter 31
March 11 late morning
Legolas sat down at the table across from Boromir, "He still has not apologized for his behavior?"
Boromir shook his head, glancing over to where his husband sat at another table, alone, brooding into an untouched cup of tea. With a sigh Boromir turned his gaze back to Legolas, "Not yet and I've yet to find out what I did to bring on his fit of temper."
Legolas blinked, "You still do not know?"
"No, I will not put myself in the position to be disrespected like that again." Boromir said, "And he will not come to me."
With a sigh Legolas leaned toward his son-in-law, "Go to him, Boromir. Talk to him. This...situation...that has him out of sorts scares him more than it angers him."
"But why does he lash out at me?" Boromir asked.
"Because you are partly to blame for this." Legolas said gently, "You were...with him, so to speak...when this situation became an issue."
"So I'm in the wrong just because I was there?" Boromir huffed, "That's..."
"No." Legolas sighed, "This whole issue...it's not wrong. It's right and good. It's just...inconvenient."
Boromir was silent a moment before he sighed, "You obviously know something. Why do you not just tell me?"
"It is not my place. Something like this should come from your husband," Legolas whispered, "Not me."
"What?!" Boromir hissed, exasperated, "Just tell me!"
Legolas bit back a smile, knowing Boromir wouldn't appreciate it in his current frame of mind, "Go to Farothen. He will need your support."
"With what?" Boromir tried one more time to no avail. Even as he spoke Farothen suddenly jumped to his feet and ran out of the hall with one hand held to his mouth and the other pressed to his stomach.
Without thought Boromir was on his own feet a second later and running after his husband. Legolas merely chuckled as they disappeared. His amusement was short-lived, however, as Aragorn ran into the hall a moment later, having been outside smoking.
Everyone left in the hall looked up at the ranger. From another table where they were looking over a map, Theoden and Eomer waited expectantly. Legolas stood up to walk over to his husband.
"The beacons of Minas Tirith are lit!" Aragorn gasped, out of breath from his recent sprint inside, "Gondor calls for aid!"
There was a heavy silence as everyone waited for Theoden's reply. It was slow to come, but when it did there was a collective sigh of relief.
"And Rohan will answer." Theoden turned to Eomer, "Muster the Rohirrim."
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Boromir reached the room Farothen had been using in time to see the half-elf stumble out of the private bathing chamber and throw himself face down on the bed. Slowly and cautiously he walked toward the bed, not knowing how his husband would react to his presence.
"Little elf?"
The only reply Boromir got was a quiet moan, which he chose to take as an invite. Carefully he lay down, pulling his husband into his arms. Their three day estrangement was forgotten at the pitiful sight Farothen presented with his hair covering his pale face and signs of exhaustion shadowing his eyes.
Brushing back the half-elf's hair Boromir pressed a gentle kiss to his forehead, "Ah, love, you've been suffering this flu or whatever it is for a while now. Maybe you should..."
"No talk," Farothen whined, burrowing deeper into Boromir's embrace, "Not feel well."
Smiling at the pouty tone Boromir sighed and snuggled Farothen tighter against his body, "Alright. No talk now. Sleep."
"Hmm," was Farothen's mumbled reply. Moments later he was asleep.
As Boromir, himself, drifted off his drowsy mind considered the implications of Farothen's current symptoms. Nausea, always tired, moody. Before his mind could settle on an explanation it shut down in sleep.
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Faramir kept his horse toward the center of the line of mounted soldiers as they approached Osgiliath at a slow gallop. Sword raised defiantly Faramir screamed the familiar battle cry.
"For Gondor!"
The rest of the soldiers echoed their captain's shout, swords drawn and ready, and the whole line urged their horses to pick up speed. As the line of horses and soldiers advanced on the captured city the enemy retaliated, firing arrow after arrow.
One by one the soldiers of Gondor fell. Glancing around at his falling companions Faramir tried to sound a retreat. Before he could utter more than the first syllable two arrows simultaneously pierced his body, sending him tumbling from his horse. With barely a yell he hit the ground.
And he lay still.
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"Faramir!"
Boromir woke abruptly with the shout and pushed himself into a sitting position. Beside him Farothen also sat up, giving him a worried look.
"My jewel?"
Boromir scrambled off the bed, the dream still vivid in his mind, "I must go. Faramir needs me..."
"Faramir? What..." Farothen began, cutting off when he saw the pure panic in Boromir's eyes.
Meeting Farothen's gaze Boromir managed a despairing whisper, "He is going to die."
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"You ride with us?" Aragorn asked Eowyn as she led her horse up.
"Just to the encampment. It's tradition for the women of the court to farewell the men," she replied.
Aragorn smiled knowingly as he lifted part of her saddle to reveal her sword. Eowyn snatched it back, her eyes daring Aragorn to say anything.
"The men have found their captain. They will follow you into battle, even to death. You have given us hope."
Aragorn refused to answer. At Eowyn's words he felt the familiar pressure and expectations from everyone closing in on him.
Before Aragorn could mount his horse though, Boromir came running, practically sprinting past the two. Farothen stood on the steps, wearing only leggings, watching Boromir run away in a panic.
'Already he's taken advantage of my son and is deciding to run!'
Eowyn wisely stepped out of Aragorn's way, noticing the murderous gleam in the man's eyes as he ran after Boromir.
"Boromir, where do you think you are going?!" Aragorn yelled as he walked up to the younger man.
"I ride straight for Minas Tirith while you ride for Dunharrow," Boromir said as he continued to saddle Roch, "I have been away from home for far too long."
Aragorn grabbed Boromir by the shoulder and spun the man around to face him, "This is how you would leave?! Without a word...and on my son's horse no less."
Boromir stared at Aragorn in confusion, wondering what the cause was of his anger. Then he saw Farothen standing scantily clad on the steps of Meduseld and nodded in understanding.
"You think I've had my way with your son and that I'm now intending to abandon him." Boromir said.
Aragorn neither denied, nor confirmed the statement. He didn't have to. His eyes said that he'd been thinking exactly that.
"Think you so little of me?" Boromir asked with genuine hurt in his voice, "Since the moment I met him I've acted with nothing but honor toward your son. And whether you believe it or not, I care for Farothen. My leaving has nothing to do with either of you."
Aragorn stepped back from Boromir, having been put firmly in his place by the younger man. His eyes reflected the shame he felt in jumping to conclusions about Boromir's intentions.
"Then why do you leave so abruptly? The entire fighting force of Rohan is riding to your country's defense," Aragorn asked.
"But they will be too late to save my brother," Boromir answered gravely.
"Wha...what?"
"I saw his death, Aragorn," Boromir said with silent tears rolling down his face.
Aragorn's heart went out to Boromir and he instantly regretted his harsh words. Mortal or no, the sons of Denethor were obviously very close and Aragorn could see how torn up Boromir was over this.
"I did not know you got visions." Aragorn responded, not knowing how to comfort Boromir.
"I don't...at least not usually. Faramir is the one more prone to the Numenor gift of visions, but we both shared the vision of Isildur's Bane," Boromir said then paused to compose himself, "I cannot shake the feeling that Faramir is heading straight for death and does not even realize it."
Boromir stood, staring at Aragorn. Waiting for something. And suddenly Aragorn knew what Boromir sought. He wanted his lord's approval and blessing.
"Go, Boromir," Aragorn said nodding at Roch, "You said you'd follow me, but no official oath has been sworn. And even if it had, family should always come before fealty."
"Thank you," Boromir said as he turned around and mounted Roch. But before he could ride away Aragorn's voice stopped him.
"Should we not tell Eomer?"
Boromir froze and sucked in a breath as he turned to face Aragorn from atop Roch, "I have no doubt that Eomer loves Faramir. This is no mere fling for either of them. I do not think now would be the time to tell Eomer. It would distract him. He rides to battle in a few days, he should be thinking of that and nothing else."
"You think we should not tell him?" Aragorn asked.
Boromir sighed, "I leave the decision in your hands, Aragorn. But whether Eomer learns or not it changes nothing. He must still ride with the Rohirrim, I must still go to Gondor's aid and you must follow your own path."
"And what of Farothen?" Aragorn asked, almost to himself, "He's never ridden into battle before."
Boromir's mind froze in sudden panic. Aragorn was right. Farothen was a great fighter, he'd been an asset during the battle of Helm's Deep, but it was something else entirely to actually ride into battle such as the Rohirrim were about to do. The Pelennor was no place for someone who was still green and had led a fairly sheltered life.
"There is a secret pass through the mountains that he can take."
"What do you mean?" Aragorn asked, feeling a spark of hope. Legolas would never leave his side but if what Boromir said was true then at least Farothen would be safe.
"I mean there is a back way into Minas Tirith," Boromir said, "A passage through the mountain that goes directly up to the seventh level."
"Who all knows about this?" Aragorn asked.
"Just me, father and Faramir." Boromir replied, "It was built as a way to get women and children out of the city...if it was ever breached."
"How would one find the passage?" Aragorn asked.
From the top of the steps to Meduseld, Farothen watched his father and husband whisper. Then Boromir reined Roch around and galloped off toward Gondor.
'Be safe, my jewel,' Farothen thought, 'I want our child to know both of us.' As he watched Boromir ride away, he fingered the braided hair he'd received at their wedding which he now kept in his pocket.
Out on the plains Boromir fingered his own braid of hair, which he kept tied around the dagger that Farothen had given to him, "We will see each other again, little elf."
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Osgiliath – same time
"To the river!" Faramir called in a whispered shout to his rangers as they ran through the city toward the arches of stone where Osgiliath met the western shore of the Anduin, "Quickly!"
Looking out at the river he could just make out the dark silhouettes in the fog. He could hear the oars slicing through the water, creating small waves with each pass as the orcs rowed across the water.
The rangers easily blended into the shadows of the arches along the shore as they waited for the boats of the enemy to land. Finally the dull thud of boat hitting land could be heard and the orcs started streaming through the arches. Not a ranger moved as the first few orcs passed.
After a moment Faramir drew in a deep breath to fortify himself then threw himself into the oncoming enemy, catching the wrist of one orc as it tried to swing it's weapon at him. Holding the orc's weapon up Faramir stabbed with his own sword in his other hand.
At the same time the other rangers joined the fray and the battle was begun. The clash of steel, the growls of orcs and the screams of men created a horrifying chorus in the fog shrouded city. All the while more and more orcs flooded Osgiliath, at least five more for every one that was killed.
Fighting even as he was forced to retreat further into the city Faramir blocked one orc's blade with his own and forced the weapon out of the creatures hand before quickly slitting the orc's throat. Not sparing a moment to relish the kill Faramir spun around just in time to stab another coming up behind him in the chest.
Still fighting his way deeper into the city Faramir allowed himself a quick glance around and felt a wave of nausea as he saw his men getting slaughtered. Several of the rangers openly fled from the orcs, knowing they were outnumbered and desperate to survive. When several of the orcs decided Faramir was fair prey he decided his men had the right idea and he retreated around a corner, cursing silently as the orcs followed him.
He was just rounding another corner when he heard his name called and he looked up to see Madril standing there with several of the previously fleeing rangers, all with arrows strung and ready. Jumping to the side just as the orcs rounded the corner Faramir sighed in relief as the arrows were released and struck each and every orc that had been chasing him.
As the last one fell Faramir stepped toward Madril as the older man said, "We cannot hold them. The city is lost."
Looking around at his dying men Faramir knew Madril was right. They were fighting a losing battle.
"Tell the men to break cover," he said sadly, "We ride for Minas Tirith."
As some of the men continued to fight, Faramir made his way toward the temporary corral where they'd left the horses, shouting, "Fall back! Fall back to Minas Tirith!"
Even as several men echoed the order to fall back there was a familiar screech from somewhere in the fog. Shouts of terror echoed and Faramir felt a shiver race up his spine.
'Nazgul. First orcs, now them.' Faramir grumbled silently, 'What next?'
"Retreat!" Faramir shouted as he reached the horses and set them free for the men running toward them, "Come on!"
Spurring his horse into a run even as the rest of his men mounted Faramir led the way through the city toward the western border, praying they all made it to safety. As they cleared the last of the buildings the Nazgul became visible and Faramir shouted a warning to ride faster.
It was a mad dash across the Pelennor to Minas Tirith with nothing for cover. Mad though it was, given no choice they rode hard, making for the gates of Minas Tirith as the Nazgul attacked.
Faramir ducked as one of the dragons swooped down to grab several of the men in it's claws, coming very close to grabbing him as well. All around him men screamed and horses squealed as the Nazgul repeatedly swooped down at the fleeing rangers.
The next thing Faramir knew there was a flash of bright light from somewhere in front of them and the Nazgul screeched in fright and retreated back toward Osgiliath. Seconds later they were riding through the gates of Minas Tirith. It was only then, when Faramir reined his horse to a stop, that he saw Mithrandir and realized the flash of light must have come from him.
Forcing his way through the crush of horses and still mounted men he rode toward the wizard, "Mithrandir! They broke through our defenses. The bridge and the west shore are taken," he said, bringing his horse to a stop beside and slightly behind the wizard, "Battalions of orcs are crossing the river."
"It is as Lord Denethor predicted," a soldier shouted as he pushed his way through the horses crowded into the square and approached them on foot, "Long has he foreseen this doom."
"Foreseen and done nothing!" Gandalf snapped, turning Shadowfax to face the soldier.
Faramir stiffened when he realized Gandalf had a halfling sitting in front of him on the horse. Vaguely he heard the wizard say his name as the little one ducked his head almost in shame.
"This is not the first halfling to have crossed your path." Gandalf said knowingly.
Faramir shook his head, "No."
The halfling looked up hopefully, a smile crossing his face, "You've seen Frodo and Sam?"
Faramir nodded but before he could voice a reply Gandalf asked, "Where? When?"
"In Ithilien. Not a week past." Faramir said, noticing that both the wizard and the halfling looked relieved. Hating to worry them, but knowing he had to tell them everything, he added, "Gandalf, they've taken the road to the Morgul Vale."
"And then the Pass of Cirith Ungol?" Gandalf asked, receiving little more than a nod from Faramir and a question from Pippin that he ignored, "Faramir, tell me everything."
"Faramir?" Pippin asked, "Boromir's brother?"
In the span of one second the whole square went silent at their Captain-General's name. Faramir hissed in a pained breath and met the halfling's gaze, "You knew my brother?"
"He is the best man I know." Pippin said, "He taught my cousin and I to fight. And he let both of us ride back to Edoras in front of him and..."
Faramir blinked, a feeling of hope kindling in his heart, "You speak as though he lives. Tell me, little one. Is it so?"
Gandalf sighed, "He lives for now, Faramir, and he rides with the Rohirrim."
A collective sigh of relief went up through the square at the news that their beloved Captain General was alive. Faramir actually had tears in his eyes.
"Why was it believed that Boromir was dead?" Pippin asked innocently, forgetting the fact that for a time he and Merry had believed Boromir was dead.
Faramir shook his head, "It matters not anymore. Father must be told of this."
Gandalf sighed once again. He'd already locked horns with Denethor once that day and he didn't wish to do so again, "I don't know how he'll take this."
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Faramir went to one knee before his father and waited nervously to be acknowledged.
"So," Denethor started coldly, "Osgiliath has fallen. Once again you have lost the city your brother reclaimed."
Faramir winced, "We could not keep the city, Father. The enemy numbers exceeded..."
"Excuses!" Denethor hissed, "Were Boromir here Osgiliath would never have fallen into enemy hands. Pity I am eternally robbed of him and left with you."
Swallowing against the threat of tears Faramir sighed and chanced a topic change he hoped would raise Denethor's spirits, "Boromir is said to live, Father. Mithrandir..."
"Trouble me not with a wizard's rambling!" Denethor interrupted, "I trust not his denial of what I have seen with my own eyes."
"But, Father..."
"Silence!" Denethor raged, getting to his feet to glare down at his kneeling son, "Now get you from my sight until I call you before me when I have use of you!"
Getting to his own feet Faramir gave a half bow, "As you wish, Father."
That said he spun on his heel and walked out, heedless of Gandalf and Pippin standing just outside the door.
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Dunharrow
The Rohirrim rode into Dunharrow in early evening. Several eored commanders shouted out to Theoden as they passed. Figuring he was fairly unneeded Legolas slowed Arod until he came even with Farothen a couple lengths back. He grinned when he saw Farothen was asleep in his saddle...with his eyes slightly open.
Reaching out he shook the half-elf slightly, "Farothen, we are here, ion nin."
Farothen jerked awake and gave his adar a sheepish look, "Sorry. I did not mean to fall asleep."
"No need to apologize, it is natural that you need more sleep now." Legolas assured, "I merely wished to inform you that we have reached the end of our road."
"Merely a rest stop, Adar." Farothen said with a small smile, "Our road is far from it's end."
Sighing Legolas nodded, "You are right, ion nin. Our journey is not over. We've still many challenges yet to face."
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As Legolas, Farothen and Gimli helped set up camp, Eowyn took Merry to the armory and Aragorn surveyed the army from the edge of the mountain ledge Theoden had chosen for his camp. Beside him Theoden looked down despondently.
"Six thousand spears," the Rohirrim king sighed, "Less than half of what I'd hoped for."
Aragorn felt equally frustrated. It wasn't enough. They were fighting the largest army Middle-Earth had seen since the Last Alliance and their allies were too few. There was little hope for victory for Gondor.
Sighing, Aragorn let his mind wander. Boromir was, at this moment, riding for a huge battle from which there would be no escape. And, though he didn't wish to think of Boromir and Farothen as a couple, he wished even less to think of losing a friend and having his son heartbroken. Even if Boromir survived the coming battle, the destruction of the White City would completely crush him. In the time they'd been on this quest Aragorn had come to understand his future steward. Boromir lived for his city. He loved Minas Tirith with every fiber of his being. Where would he be without Gondor?
"Six thousand will not be enough to break the lines of Mordor." Aragorn said gravely, turning his attention back to Theoden.
"More will come." Theoden replied without any real conviction in his voice.
"Every hour lost hastens Gondor's defeat." Aragorn said with determination and authority, taking no heed of the fact that Theoden was the king and not him, "We have until dawn, then we must ride."
Theoden didn't berate Aragorn, but simply nodded and walked off to continue preparing his army.
Aragorn sighed again. Tension was spreading through the entire camp so thickly it was practically suffocating. 'Hold on, Boromir,' he thought, 'Hope is not yet lost.'
Turning, Aragorn walked toward his family's tent, which was pitched near the base of the mountain. He was hoping to be put in a better mood, but as he neared the mountain the overall mood of the camp sank even further toward depression. Even the horses had caught the moodiness. They were rearing up and giving their handlers a hard time.
As Aragorn neared the road that led into the mountain he heard his husband speak up to Eomer.
"The horses are restless...and the men are quiet."
Eomer sighed as he walked toward the elf with a saddle, intending to set it down outside his own tent. The young marshal seemed one of the more melancholy of the men because his heart was three days away with Faramir.
"They grow nervous in the shadow of the mountain."
A few paces away Aragorn stared down the road through the mountain. He felt a chill creep down his spine as he studied the gloomy passage.
"That road there," Gimli said nodding to where Aragorn was standing, "Where does that lead?"
"It is the road to the Dimholt," Legolas answered, "The door under the mountain."
"None who venture there ever return," Eomer added as he walked off and muttered under his breath, "That mountain is evil."
Aragorn had ceased to listen to them. His eyes were fixed on a spot in the rocks where green smoke seemed to rise and faces took shape in it's midst.
Aragorn was so caught up in his own vision that he didn't even notice when Gimli walked up to him and said his name. In fact, he didn't acknowledge anyone's presence until Gimli clapped him on the back.
"Come, Aragorn," the dwarf said, "Let's find some food."
Aragorn was very pale and stricken as he turned around to face Legolas and Farothen. Gimli, with the thought of food on his mind, had already walked away.
"Ada, you look as if you've seen a ghost!" Farothen remarked.
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"To the smithy. Go." Eowyn said later that night, patting Merry on the back as they walked out of her tent. The hobbit was dressed as an esquire, having sworn his service to Theoden before they'd set out for Dunharrow.
"You should not encourage him." Eomer said from the side as Merry ran away.
Eowyn looked over at him, slightly annoyed, "And you should not doubt him."
"I do not doubt his heart, only the reach of his arm." Eomer replied, pulling a snicker from Gamling, who sat a couple feet away.
Before Eomer could do anything more than throw the older man a grin Eowyn gave an annoyed huff and slapped the back of his head. The sight of the Third Marshal of the Mark getting hit by his sister had Gamling cracking up completely.
Ignoring his friend, and the fact that the back of his head really stung, Eomer scowled at Eowyn, refusing to comment on her hitting him as he added, "It's not like Merry will ever see battle anyway. Our uncle will not allow it."
Looking almost wistfully in the direction Merry had run Eowyn asked, "Why should he be left behind? He has as much cause as you to go to war. Why can he not fight for those he loves?"
Sighing, Eomer just barely resisted rolling his eyes, "We are not speaking of Merry anymore are we? We are discussing you."
"Well, why can I not fight?" Eowyn asked, "I can fight just as well as you."
With another sigh Eomer stood up and put his hands on his sister's shoulders, "Eowyn, you are the only one of those I love not in any danger. I ask you, please, do not rush toward sure death as we do. I will feel better knowing you are safe and protecting our home as only you can."
Jerking out of Eomer's grip Eowyn glared at him, "Have you and our uncle stopped to consider how I feel being left behind while everyone I love rides to war?!"
"Eowyn..." Eomer started, only to cut off as she stalked away.
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Somewhere in east Anorien
Boromir would probably have ridden straight through to Minas Tirith without food or rest if Roch hadn't pulled up short and snorted in protest.
"Alright, alright," Boromir said soothingly as he tried to calm Roch down, "I guess this is your way of saying it's time to take a break."
Roch's answer was to put his head down and start grazing while Boromir laughed lightly. He was still a little over a day's ride from Minas Tirith, but he still made sure to keep his voice down in such an open area where even a whisper could travel a fair distance. Orcs could be patrolling the area and if they came close he would have to ride hard to stay out of their sight.
Grabbing a piece of lembas from his pack, Boromir sat down to relax while Roch continued to graze. Looking at the horse he figured he was as good a company as he was going to get and decided to talk out some of his thoughts.
"Have you noticed how Farothen's been acting strange lately?"
Roch's response was to snort.
"I mean...more that he usually is."
Abandoning the grass, Roch walked over to Boromir and started nudging the man in the side.
"Roch, would you stop! I don't have anymore sugar cubes. You ate up my entire supply." Boromir sighed as the horse ignored him and continued to nudge him in the side, "Alright, you can have the rest of my lembas."
Roch eagerly took the offered treat from Boromir.
"You suppose elves give their horses lembas on a regular basis?"
Roch bobbed his head up and down as if saying 'yes' and Boromir burst out laughing, "Well I guess that explains the amazing endurance you Elven horses have."
Boromir's laughter subsided as he once again thought of his husband's strange behavior and spoke more to himself than Roch when he said, "Even if the elf in question has actually been very exhausted lately."
His thoughts came to an abrupt halt as he suddenly realized that Farothen had been exhausted practically every night since they had been married. He'd also been moody, nauseous in the morning...
Just like Legolas had been early in his pregnancy.
"No...it couldn't be." Boromir murmured in disbelief.
Lost in his thoughts, he didn't notice when Roch suddenly snorted and tensed up. All he was thinking about was Legolas' comment earlier that day:
'This whole situation...it's not wrong. It's right and good. It's just...inconvenient.'
'Yeah! Inconvenient is right! I'm in the middle of the biggest battle of my life and about to be...I'm going to be a father!'
Boromir probably would have fainted on the spot, seeing as he was feeling a little light-headed at the prospect of fatherhood, if it hadn't been for Roch suddenly nudging him frantically.
"Roch, what's the matter wi..."
Boromir stopped mid-sentence as he heard the unmistakable sound of orcs approaching. They never could remain silent.
As quickly and quietly as he could Boromir swung up onto Roch's back, "Make haste, Roch."
Needing no further encouragement Roch surged straight into a gallop, heading straight for Minas Tirith. Boromir spared barely a moment to be glad that it was night, he was wearing dark clothes and riding a black horse...and the orcs were still some distance away. If any of those conditions had been different, Boromir may very well have been caught.
Confident in the belief that Roch wouldn't let the orcs catch them, Boromir let his reeling mind dwell on his recent insight.
Farothen was pregnant.
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Dunharrow – Before dawn
"Dan...I'm beginning to suspect that Ada really isn't capable of doing anything he says he is."
"What makes you say that, Ro?"
"He keeps sending us out to do things while he stays in Imladris doing 'paperwork'."
Elladan laughed as their horses neared the Rohirrim encampment at Dunharrow, "That's your brilliant conclusion, Ro? Did it ever occur to you that maybe he doesn't like getting involved in others' affairs because he's leaving Middle-Earth soon?"
"Ha! That's what he wants you to think!"
Before Elladan could respond the two elves suddenly found themselves surrounded by several men, who, judging by their coloring and armor design, were of the Rohirrim.
"State your name and business in Dunharrow," the one in front ordered.
The temptation for Elladan and Elrohir to make jokes and fight their way through the defense was strong, but given the circumstances, it wasn't surprising that the Rohirrim were extra cautious.
Moving completely in sync with each other, the twins pulled back the hoods of their cloaks. The men immediately lowered their weapons when they saw that it was elves coming into their camp. Each of the soldiers present had either fought at Helm's Deep from the beginning or had arrived later among Eomer's riders. The sacrifice of the elves of Lothlorien would not be so absently dismissed.
"We are Elladan and Elrohir of Imladris," Elladan said, introducing himself and his twin, "And we wish to speak to Est...Lord Aragorn."
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Aragorn was caught in the midst of the worst nightmare he had ever experienced. All his doubts, fears and anxieties were brought to the surface, triggered by the brief moment he'd held the palantir a few days earlier. He saw himself and Legolas separated and unable to work out their problems. Their daughter, grown up without ever having known him. She hated him because she felt like she'd been abandoned by her sire. Farothen alone, abandoned and broken by Boromir. And Boromir...fallen into evil, because at heart that's what he...
'No!' Aragorn shouted in his mind, 'This is not what they're like. Boromir is a good and honorable man! He defeated evil once, he can do it again! Farothen is stronger than you think! Legolas would never deny me our daughter.'
All that you love will come to ruin.
Aragorn screamed in both outrage and fright. He sprung up from his cot, instinctively going for the Elven dagger Celeborn had given him.
A strong hand caught his wrist before the dagger could connect with living flesh, "Estel, calm down...it is just a dream!"
Aragorn stared in disbelief, "Ro! Dan! What are you doing here?"
Elrohir delicately plucked the dagger from Aragorn's hand and set it aside, "Well, I am not planning on getting skewered by you, that's for sure."
"Ada sent us." Elladan answered from the foot of Aragorn's cot.
"Why?" Aragorn asked with a chuckle, relieved after his horrible nightmare to see his two crazy brothers, "He's not worried that I don't have enough clean underwear is he?"
"Knowing you, you probably don't." Elladan responded dryly, "But no, this is more serious. Ada sent us to warn you."
"About what?" Aragorn asked, going suddenly cold.
"Not only do Sauron's armies march on Minas Tirith, he also sends in a secret fleet of Corsair ships from the south that will arrive in mere days." Elrohir stated, "Even with the combined forces of both Rohan and Gondor you are vastly outnumbered. You need more men."
Gently shoving Elrohir out of the way so he could stand up Aragorn started pacing the tent in frustration. His voice was quiet and despairing when he spoke, "There are none."
Elladan sighed. He wasn't going to enjoy explaining this to Aragorn, "Ada mentioned those that dwell in the mountain."
"Murderers!" Aragorn snarled turning to face his brother, "Traitors! They answer to no one! What makes you think they will fight for us?"
Elladan and Elrohir grinned at each other as if sharing a private joke.
"Well...Ada also asked us to give you something..." Elladan started as Elrohir mumbled under his breath, "Technically he had us make it too."
"What are the two of you talking about?" Aragorn asked in complete confusion now.
Instead of speaking Elladan pulled a sword from under his cloak. Aragorn gasped as he recognized the hilt.
"Is that...?"
"It is Anduril, Flame of the West," Elladan said, handing the sword to Aragorn, "Forged from the shards of Narsil."
Aragorn lifted the sword, studying the gleaming blade, "Sauron will not have forgotten the sword of Elendil. The blade that was broken shall return to Minas Tirith."
Elrohir nodded with a smile while Elladan spoke again, "Take the Dimolt road. Wielding the power of this sword you can summon an army more deadly than any that walks this earth. Put aside the ranger, Estel, become who you were born to be."
"Who your mother wanted you to be." Elrohir added.
Aragorn sighed, suddenly lost in memory at those words, "Onen i-Estel edain. U-chebin estel anim."
The twins glanced at each other, wondering where Aragorn's memories had taken him. About the time they turned back to question their brother they realized they were alone. Aragorn was quickly leaving the tent...and them...behind. Sharing another quick glance they went after Aragorn.
"Aragorn, hold on a second," Elladan said as he and Elrohir followed their brother, "You should not take this road al..."
"Elladan! Elrohir!"
The twins stiffened and growled as they recognized the voice as Legolas'. Being Aragorn's brothers the two of them still hadn't forgiven the wood elf for what had gone on between him and Aragorn. They turned around as one, intending to yell at the prince of Mirkwood...but instead they ended up staring, stupefied, at the sight before them.
Legolas walked up to the two of them with a giddy smile on his face and a very suspicious bulge under his tunic. While the twins still stood there with their mouths open, Legolas hugged each elf in turn then walked away without another word.
"Okay, what was that?!" Elrohir exclaimed.
Aragorn shrugged, "Yeah. The little one seems to make him giddy a lot."
Suddenly from across the camp the three of them heard a yell from Legolas and a disgruntled comment from Gimli and the sound of Legolas bursting into tears.
Aragorn groaned, "Then one wrong word and seconds later it's over."
"Estel! We told you not to give him another child!" Elladan shouted.
"No," Aragorn argued, "You told me not to give him another son. He insists this ones a girl."
Elrohir opened his mouth to protest then stopped and turned to Elladan, "He always finds a way to get around our rules!"
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It took Aragorn a little while to convince his brothers to save all explanations for later...it took longer to rope the two into going with him through the Paths of the Dead. Actually, it was more a situation of the twins insisting on accompanying him, but Aragorn would never admit to that. The three of them tried leaving the camp unnoticed but it didn't quite work out that way.
"Just where do you think you're off to?" Gimli asked as he stood up beside his tent.
"Not this time," Aragorn said, shaking his head, "This time you must stay Gimli."
Truth be told, Aragorn felt that no one should go with him. This was his risk alone to take, but he couldn't stop the twins from accompanying him. He wouldn't let anyone else join in...or so he thought.
"Have you learned nothing of the stubbornness of dwarves?" Legolas replied, walking up with Arod.
"Oh no," Aragorn said, "The stubbornness of the elves is much more underrated than that of the dwarves. And you are definitely not going!"
"Oh yes I am." Legolas replied quietly, warningly, with a dangerous glint in his eyes.
"You might as well accept it," Gimli added, "We're going with you, laddie."
Aragorn rolled his eyes as he caught sight of Farothen watching the confrontation with Haldir, "And I suppose you want to come as well."
"Ada," Farothen said in a meaningful tone, "I will fight orcs with you. I will fight trolls with you. I will even fight against Sauron...but I draw the line at dead people!"
Aragorn shook his head. He wasn't sure why Farothen wasn't insisting on going along, but he was too grateful to care at the moment, "Haldir, would you accompany Farothen to Minas Tirith?"
"Ada, I do not need an escort!"
"Listen, Farothen, Boromir told me about a passage that leads directly to the citadel. I want you to take it." Aragorn said, ignoring Farothen's complaint.
Farothen sighed. As much as he hated to be sheltered and protected, he knew that it wasn't just his life he had to think about now. He also had the life of his and Boromir's child to consider.
"Alright, Ada. How do I get there?"
Five minutes later Haldir and Farothen watched as the group of three elves, one ranger and a dwarf headed down the road to the Dimholt, much to the confusion of the Rohirrim.
"So," Haldir started, "Do your uncles know you are pregnant?"
"No!" Farothen exclaimed.
"Do they even know you are married?"
"No."
"Did you tell Boromir about the babe before he left?"
Farothen hung his head sadly, "No. But I should have."
"Does Aragorn know yet?"
"Elbereth, no!"
"Can I be around when you tell him?"
Instead of replying Farothen half turned and smacked Haldir in the side of the head before walking away.
Haldir stood there for a second, rubbing his head and grinning in amusement, before asking, "Is that a no?"
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Elvish translation...
Onen i-Estel edain. U-chebin estel anim. – I give hope to men. I keep none for myself.
I think this is it. If I missed anything, let me know and I'll try to remember to translate in the next chapter.
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Replies to reviews...
aliasvixen2002: No we didn't go to the moon, it's a really rather dreary place up there. Anyway, as I said in the author note, the update schedule will be somewhat varied since we have a limited amount of time. I hope you don't suffer too much withdrawal.
Saihitei Seishuku/Mana-san: Sorry, but Haldir won't be getting pregnant in this story. We have/had possible plans for him at another time. Although, Boromir and Aragorn stuck in a sea of pregnant men would be somewhat humorous.
Angel of the Night Watchers: No, we aren't going to kill Legolas and Farothen...it was just Sauron using Aragorn's fears against him. As for your other questions, Aragorn will be finding out about Boromir and Farothen being married once the war is over and things have calmed down slightly. He's got a lot on his mind right now. 'Is Faramir pregnant?' Well, readers have kinda come to their own conclusions about that, but we're not confirming it either way. Sorry, you'll just have to wait. And as for your last question, this chapter answered that, Faramir has finally found out Boromir lives on.
connie: We didn't have Aragorn notice the slap mark on Farothen's face because we figured it was already somewhat late in the afternoon or evening when it happened and Farothen never actually left his room until the next day and by that time the mark would have faded.
Once again, to all our reviewers, thanks for everything.
(Becky and Brina)