Chapter 9
The counselor of Minas Tirith
Disclaimer: I don't own LOTR, Harry Potter, or Kel or Neal. I own Emily and Itarilde. And the ideas that aren't Tolkien's.
A/N: This is one of my favourite chapters, because it's long. . . well, longer than my other chapters, anyway.
Frodo sat miserably upon a log, unmoving and undecided. He didn't want to make a decision, but he knew in his heart that his journey-his destiny- was to travel east to Mordor. Footsteps crunched in the ground behind him. He spun around, Sting in hand, but relaxed when he saw the friendly face of Boromir. Later, though, when he thought back on it, he should have been as scared of Boromir as he was of anyone else.
"You should not wander alone." Said Boromir. "Not when so much depends on you."
"I needed to think." Frodo replied.
"So have you made your decision? Are you coming to Minas Tirith?"
Frodo looked up into Boromir's eyes. There was a gleam of eagerness which he had never seen before. He kept silent.
"You need counsel in your hard choice. I can give it to you."
The gleam was still there, bigger and brighter than before.
"I think I already know what counsel you would give, Boromir, and it would seem like wisdom but for the warning in my heart."
"Warning? Against what?" His voice had a sharp edge to it, slicing coldly through the end-of-February air.
Frodo responded warily, "A warning against the road that seems easier, more convenient. Sauron expects me to take that road. What if Minas Tirith fails?"
Boromir put his hand on Frodo's shoulder. "There is still hope."
Frodo shook his head. "Not while the Ring lasts."
"The Ring!" now Boromir's entire face was betraying his thoughts, and Frodo was becoming frightened. "Now that you speak of it, I would request of you something. I need the Ring for Gondor. Will you at least lend it to me?"
Frodo backed away, his eyes widening. "No. The council laid it upon me to bear it."
Now Boromir looked angry. "Fool! This is your chance to dispose of your burden. It is not yours anyway. It could have been anyone's. It should be mine. Give it to me!"
Frodo started running away from Boromir. Unfortunately, it was not long before he tripped over a tree root and Boromir pinned him down. Terrified, he slipped on the Ring and ran off.
"I see your mind!" Boromir shouted at Frodo. "It's a conspiracy! You will take the Ring to Sauron and betray us all!"
Then he stepped on a moss covered log and banged his head into the hollow of a tree. Squirrels scurried out, squeaking furiously, then seeing his size and stature, meekly retreated back into the tree trunk. Watching the squirrels run from him reminded him of Frodo.
"What have I said? Frodo, please come back! Frodo!"
Frodo kept on running, heeding not the pleading tones of the Gondorian, until he reached the summit of Amon Hen. There was a high seat, surrounded by 4 pillars. It was the Seat of Seeing. He climbed up the stairs and, moved by a sudden impulse, sat down in the chair. He could see just about the entire world. To the east were empty plains and unfamiliar forests. To the north he could see the Great River Anduin and the Misty Mountains. To the west was Rohan, and Isengard, and the Tower of Orthanc. To the south was seen the Great River and the falls of Rauros. But everywhere he looked, he could see war.
He saw Minas Tirith. Again, he was tempted to go there, and be safe, but one glace at the Land of Shadow told him that he would never be safe, not while the Ring was alive and thriving (well, it has a mind of its own; why can't it be alive? Alive. . . . ANYWAY. . . ).
When he looked east, he could see Barad-dur, the Dark Tower, and it seemed as if the ye was looking upon him at that moment. It took all his will power to wrench it off his finger. He knew what he had to do. Galadriel's words echoed in his mind. "Your quest stands upon the edge of a knife. Stray but a little and it will fail, to the ruin of all. Yet hope remains while all the Company is true."
But now I have seen the power of the Ring, He told himself. It has taken Boromir. I must go to Mt. Doom alone. I cannot risk letting anyone else become consumed by it. And so he began to make his journey back to the boats.
Back at the camp everyone was waiting for Frodo. Over an hour had passed since he had gone off, and the others were starting to worry. Suddenly Boromir came back.
"Where have you been?!" demanded Emily.
"Have you seen Frodo?" asked Sam.
Boromir nodded, somewhat sadly. "Yes, but he ran away from me."
"All right." said Itarilde, furious at him. "What have you done to him?!"
"I tried to pressure him to come to Minas Tirith." Boromir stepped back from the raging Itarilde who's temper was quite short.
"AND THEN?!?!"
Boromir sighed. "Then he put on the Ring and ran off."
Sam's eyes widened. "Boromir, you idiot! Why in the name of Gondor would you do that?!"
"We must go find him!" Merry and Pippin ran off.
"That might be hard, seeing as he is invisible." Emily commented bitterly, and went off with Itarilde in search of Frodo, though not before she threw Boromir a dirty look and a rude gesture.
Aragorn looked more upset than angry. "Boromir, go make sure they keep out of trouble. I don't know what you've done, but it can't be good."
Boromir ran after Merry and Pippin, followed by Kel and Neal.
Sam started sprinting up the hill, as fast as his short legs would carry him. Legolas and Gimli had also disappeared.
Aragorn sighed. They would all be scattered and lost.
"Come on, Harry." He started tracking Frodo's footprints.
Then, quite suddenly, orcs came charging from the trees.
Meanwhile. . .
"Frodo!" yelled Pippin. "Frodo! Where are you?"
Merry grabbed his arm. "What's that sound? Do you hear it?"
Both hobbits strained their ears, and, sure enough, they could hear the loud marching of orcs. Pippin panicked at once, and bolted, running as far as he could away from the orcs, Merry right on his heels. In doing so, he crashed into Frodo, who was hiding behind a tree trunk.
"Frodo! Where have you-" Pippin stopped short when he saw the look on Frodo's face. It was more dreamy than usual, faraway and sad, though with a hint of peace and resolution. He had finally come to his decision.
"I must leave," he whispered.
The stomping of the orcs could be heard. They were getting closer.
"Go back to the boats," Marry said to Frodo in hushed tones. "We'll keep them away from you."
Frodo nodded, full of gratitude for his friends, and rushed off.
The orcs could now be seen, great, looming shadows in the dark canopy of trees. Merry took a deep breath and closed his eyes for a moment. This was it.
"Hey! You stupid, ugly, orcs! Over here!"
"Elephant feet!" Pippin added.
Both he and Merry ran as fast as they could, leading the orcs away from the direction in which Frodo had gone. They kept running, never daring to pause to catch their breath. Then, many dozen orcs jumped out from behind the shrubbery and surrounded them. This was surely the end. An orc raised his sword. Pippin shut his eyes, expecting to feel his head detaching from his body as the blow descended on him-but it never did. Boromir leaped out of the trees and blocked the sword with his own. He took a deep breath and blew into his horn-the horn of Gondor. The sound echoed through the forest. The orcs paused for a moment, then, when no one came, they attacked again. Between blocks and thrusts, Boromir blew his horn as loud as he could, but no one came.
"Oh, where are they?" wailed Pippin.
Merry picked up a sizeable stone and threw it at the nearest orc. Pippin followed suit. Still no help came. A very ugly orc drew his bow. Merry was the only one that saw this.
"Boromir! Watch out!"
Boromir turned, just in time to see the orc release the arrow. It imbedded itself in Boromir's shoulder. Uttering a cry of pain, he stood still for a moment. At first Pippin was sure he would die right then and there, but to the surprise of everyone, he raised his sword and continued fighting, killing orcs here and there. The ugly orc raised his bow again. This time the shot hit Boromir in the stomach. Once again, time seemed to stand still as he stood there, stunned. Then he went on fighting, still killing more orcs. The ugly orc who had provided Boromir with 2 arrows curled up his lips in a horrible smile.
"So long, mortal." He growled and fired again.
Boromir found himself with another arrow, this time in his chest. The pain was unbearable. He sank to his knees, unable to do anything but watch everything go by. Two orcs grabbed Merry and Pippin and carried them off. The rest were about to follow when a rustling was heard from behind the ugly orc. Kel and Neal charged through, swords unsheathed. They were caught by surprise. Numerous orcs charged at them in return. Two orcs kicked the swords out of their hands with their iron shod feet and two more carried them off, but not before throwing them around a little and having a little fun with their swords. All the orcs charged past Boromir, not paying any attention to the fallen man among them. Only one orc was left. His drew back his arrow. . .
By this time Frodo had already made it to the boats and was rowing away from the shore. Sam came stumbling to the shoreline.
"Mister Frodo! You ain't goin' nowhere without me!"
Frodo looked back sadly. "No, Sam. I'm going alone."
"'Course you are! And I'm going with you!"
What part of I'm going alone did he not understand? Frodo wondered, then watched, horrified as Sam started wading into the water.
"Sam! You can't swim!" Frodo watched, frightened, as his faithful gardener attempted to make his way over to the boat. He started rowing back immediately, which was a wise decision, as Sam's weight began to drag him down, under the water. Frantically, he struggled, but the water did not give in. It pulled relentlessly at his clothes. Then he felt something pull him up, quite literally by the scruff of his neck. Then-air, wonderful air, filled his lungs. He found himself in Frodo's boat, shivering from head to toe. But what mattered were that they were together, and they would journey together off into the east, to the Land of the Shadow.
Itarilde hid in the bushed, terrified. Orcs were everywhere. She could see Aragorn, Legolas and Gimli, and even Harry bravely fighting them. She was rather appalled by her own cowardice. She had not come on this mission to hide at the first sign of danger.
But I'll die out there! she thought. Then another voice came into her head, one more convincing and taunting. So what? It said, Everyone else is risking their lives. Who are you to stay hidden?
Ignoring the small voice that protested, she sighed in resignation and unsheathed her sword, stepping out into the open. To her surprise, no orcs came to attack her. Feeling a bit foolish, standing around with her sword in hand, she ran over to where Aragorn was fighting alone and actually killed a few orcs, with her controlled swing. An orc swaggered up to her, blood dripping down his hideous face.
"Bit young to be fighting, aren't you?" he grinned. "Girls your age are useless and weak." His grin widened as he raised his crude sword. "Let's take care of that problem and dispose of you."
He'd gone too far. Rage boiled up inside of Itarilde. He confident voice angered her to the point that her temper got the better of her and, instead of just stabbing the orc, she swung her sword, ignoring all the practicing she'd done to accomplish a nice and controlled swing, and beheaded the orc, sending her crashing into Emily, who had just appeared behind her.
"Sorry," Itarilde was still seething. She glared at the corpse, feeling an irresistible urge to kick it continually. Emily glanced at Itarilde's face and knew right away what she was thinking.
"Don't, Emily" Emily said to her friend. "He's not worth it."
A/N: Remember that Itarilde is elvish for Emily, and Emily2 is used to calling Emily1 "Emily," not "Itarilde," so she didn't call her Itarilde, although everyone else does. Anyway, to continue. . .
Itarilde was about to reply that it wasn't a question of whether he was worth it or not, but for her own self satisfaction, when, loud and clear, the horn of Boromir rang from quite a distance away. Aragorn immediately started fighting his way over, followed by Itarilde and Emily.
A few minutes later they found Boromir facing an orc. This orc had punctured Boromir with 3 arrows and was about to fire another. With a cry of rage Aragorn lunged at the orc, cutting off his arm. The orc stared at the disembodied part in surprise, then engaged himself in violent swordplay with Aragorn, who eventually beheaded him.
All 3 of them ran over to Boromir, who was in intense pain. His breath came in short, ragged gasps and blood was streaming down the front of his torso.
"I tried to take the Ring from him." He said. "They have taken Merry and Pippin, as well as Kel and Neal."
"Have you seen Frodo?" Aragorn asked.
"No." answered Boromir. He looked panicked. "Where has he gone?" He desperately tried to sit up, but fell back down in pain. "Have the orcs gotten him?"
"He's fine, Boromir," Emily told him, evidently trying to convince herself as well as the Gondorian.
Boromir tried to sit up again. "Are you sure-" he was cut off as Itarilde and Emily pushed him down firmly.
"Go in peace, Boromir. Minas Tirith shall not fall." Aragorn assured him.
"And sorry I yelled at you," added Itarilde.
Boromir smiled slightly and was gone. Legolas, Gimli, and Harry appeared just in time to see Aragorn kiss Boromir's forehead in farewell.
"What happened?" Harry asked, and then looked at Boromir. "Oh."
As everyone else gathered up their supplies, Aragorn took one of their elven boats and laid Boromir inside of it. He pushed it into the water and watched it drift off.
"So our Fellowship breaks." Aragorn said. "Now we have the choice of following Frodo to Mordor, or rescuing the captured. What do you think?"
"We cannot just leave them at the mercy of the orcs!" Emily exclaimed.
"The Ring was Frodo's burden." Legolas said. "It is he who must destroy it, not us."
Everyone agreed.
"Then we must pursue them immediately." Gimli said, referring to the Merry, Pippin, Kel, and Neal. "For we have already lost many hours."
"Leave everything that can be left." Aragorn ordered. "We will be running on foot."
Emily and Itarilde groaned, sure they were never going to survive.
A/N: Please, review! Make me happy!