Chapter 22
Adette's POV
"Keep a steady pace Arod." I whispered in his ear. He was tiring, I could tell, but with every whisper he rode a bit harder. I scratched behind his ear as I sat back up in the saddle, trying to alleviate the stress and discomfort. He threw his mane about and snorted loudly.
"We have just passed into the realm of Gondor!" Gandalf called back to me over his shoulder. I nodded, although he didn't see me, and whispered the good news to Arod that he would be able to rest soon. His pace quickened instantly, and soon we were riding beside Shadowfax. Pippin was awake, staring off into space. "Don't get your hopes up to sleep any time soon my dear!"
I frowned, but I had it coming. We had ridden all through yesterday, all through the night, and it was now reaching midday. I only hoped that I would get a nice bed so that when I could finally sleep, I would be comfortable.
When we had ridden halfway across the open, golden field Gandalf halted Shadowfax and so I stopped Arod. He seemed grateful enough for the break. I looked ahead at the castle, instantly remembering my home. It looked just the same as it had five years ago, but it didn't seem as homely as it used to. Mirkwood was my new home, Legolas's arm were my new home. Gandalf seemed to notice my mood and hurried to keep moving.
When we reached the castle, Gandalf was quick to ride ahead of me to lead the way. He began to wave his hand, clearing the way.
"Make way!" He shouted to the people. They moved aside with gasps and stunned faces as we rode through the streets and towards the top level. Once we reached the stairs I dismounted and left Arod for the guards to put away. Gandalf and Pippin followed, but Gandalf pulled me aside. "Adette, you must not reveal to Lord Denethor who you are. I fear it will upset him."
"Will he recognize me?" I asked, reaching for the hood of my cloak.
"I don't think so, but take precautions." He then turned and walked up the steps. I pulled the hood up over my head and followed with Pippin by my side.
I looked around the courtyard, remembering times I had spent there. Aragorn and I would practice sword fighting, moving all across the length of the courtyard. We would move from the sections of grass towards the statues, and down the steps. We were never permitted to continue fighting down to the lower levels, but we did anyways. I remembered that when Legolas and I had first started courting, we would sit beneath the white tree and talk about silly things, holding hands and looking up at the stars.
Pippin seemed to stare at the tree, and he looked up at me with wide eyes.
"It's the tree." He said, tugging at my tunic.
"Yes, the White Tree of Gondor, the tree of the king. Lord Denethor however is not the king. He is a steward only, a caretaker of the throne while Aragorn is gone. He will not leave until Aragorn claims the throne, and I don't think he'll be doing that any time soon." I explained quietly, eyeing the guards to make sure that they weren't listening.
Gandalf hesitated on the steps leading to the castle doors and turned to look down at Pippin, glancing occasionally up at me as well.
"Listen carefully, Lord Denethor is Boromir's father. To give him news of his beloved son's death would be most unwise. And do not mention about Frodo or the Ring. And say nothing of Aragorn either." He paused once more and made another decision. "In fact, it's better if either of you don't speak at all."
We nodded in agreement and followed Gandalf into the castle. I had forgotten how large the throne room was, and instantly began to remember more. I remembered my father attempting to teach me to dance when the room was empty, occasionally having my mother step in to show me what the dances looked like.
As we made our way towards Lord Denethor, we passed by a statue of my father. He was a spitting image of Aragorn, the same height, the same shoulder length hair, the same calmness. The statue did him justice.
"Hail, Denethor, son of Ecthelion, Lord and Steward of Gondor. I come with tidings in this dark hour… and with counsel." Gandalf didn't bow as he stood before Lord Denethor. Neither did Pippin or I.
I looked at Lord Denethor as he sat slumped over on the throne. He wore a black robe with white fur around the sleeves and leading from his neck to the end of the robe. He had gray, greasy hair that cut off just below his shoulders. His face was wrinkled a bit, his eyes dark and sad looking.
"Perhaps you've come to explain this. Perhaps you've come to tell me why my son is dead." He said, holding up the Horn of Gondor. I nearly gasped, remembering that it had belonged to Boromir. Suddenly Pippin stepped forward.
"Boromir died to save us, my kinsmen and me. He fell defending us from many foes." He said, bowing to Lord Denethor.
"Pippin!" Gandalf exclaimed.
"I offer you my service, such as it is, in payment of this debt." He was kneeling before him now, his back to Gandalf and I. We exchanged a glance before Gandalf stepped forward and hit Pippin with his staff to make him stand.
"Get up!" He snapped angrily. "My lord, there will be a time to grieve for Boromir, but it is not now. War is coming. The enemy is on your doorstep! As Steward, you're charged with the defense of this city. Where are Gondor's armies?
You still have friends. You're not alone in this fight. Send word to Théoden of Rohan. Light the beacons."
"You think you are wise, Mithrandir, yet for all your subtleties you have not wisdom. Do you think the eyes of the White Towers are blind? I have seen more than you know.
With your left hand you would use me as a shield against Mordor. And, with your right, you seek to supplant me.
I know who rides with Théoden of Rohan. Oh, yes. Words have reached my ears of this Aragorn, son of Arathorn, and I tell you now - I will not bow to this ranger from the north. Last of a ragged house long bereft of Lordship." Lord Denethor's eyes became hostile, his expression menacing. I nearly snarled when he insulted Aragorn, and stepped forward but Gandalf's staff kept me back.
"Authority is not given to you to deny the return of the king, steward." Lord Denethor got to his feet as Gandalf finished.
"The whole rule of Gondor is mine! And no other's!"
"It is not, it does not belong to you," I lowered my hood although Gandalf instructed me not to, "it belongs to my brother."
When I lowered my hood I saw Lord Denethor's eyes widen, and so even if I had not revealed myself, he would have known. I thought that he would throw me out of his kingdom, but instead he laughed.
"You cannot take the throne from me Adette, only Aragorn can and I won't let him."
"You-"
"Come!" Gandalf turned swiftly and waited for Pippin and I to walk in front of him. We made for the castle doors with Gandalf close behind. Once we were outside he spoke. "You both disobeyed me and for that now we cannot leave Minas Tirith. We must light the beacons ourselves."
"I won't apologize, he had no right to speak badly of my brother." I growled, following Gandalf, who had gotten ahead of Pippin and I. When I said this he turned and stopped.
"You must learn to hold your temper."
That night we all were on the balcony, looking out into the night. It seemed odd to be back in Minas Tirith on such terms. Gandalf was smoking his pipe, occasionally handing it to me, while Pippin inspected the new armor and weapons he had been given by Lord Denethor.
"So I imagine this is just a ceremonial position...I mean, they don't actually expect me to do any fighting? Do they?" He asked suddenly, joining us out on the balcony. Gandalf handed me his pipe so that he could answer.
"You're in the service of the steward now, you're going to have to do as you're told…Peregrin Took, Guard of the Citadel."
I laughed, smoke spilling from my lips as I handed the pipe back to Gandalf. I turned to look down at Pippin as he leaned against the railing.
"That will take some getting used to eh?"
"It's so quiet." He said softly, looking up at the sky. I did too, and we looked out towards the fires of Mordor, lit up in the sky for all to see. Somewhere out there, Frodo and Sam were wandering around. I hoped that they were safe, warm, well fed.
"It's the deep breath before the plunge." Gandalf answered.
"I don't want to be in battle, but waiting on the edge of one I can't escape is even worse."
"Nobody wants to be in battle Pippin, unless they have a death wish. But it is something that has to be done." I told him, ruffling his hair. He looked up at me, his face suddenly sad.
"Is there any hope for Frodo and Sam?" I kneeled down in front of him, taking his arms into my hands.
"Of course there is Pippin, there is hope for everything."
"There never was much hope. Only fool's hope." Gandalf grumbled, setting down his pipe. My eyebrows furrowed as I stood, letting go of Pippin. I face Gandalf although he faced out towards the sky.
"There is hope. Saying there is no hope is like saying that there is no wind, because although you can't really see it you can still feel it. I feel hope for them although everything I see around me is trying to disprove it." I said angrily.
"Don't count on it my dear." He said, turning his head to look at me. His face was solemn, his mouth set into a thin line. He had given up hope on Frodo and Sam, it was clear on his face. I, however, refused to give up on them. Galadriel had told me to never give up. "Our enemy is ready. His full strength's gathered.
Not only orcs but men as well, legions of Haradrim from the South. Mercenaries from the coast. All will answer Mordor's call.
This will be the end of Gondor as we know it. Here the hammerstroke will fall the hardest. If the river is taken, if the garrison at Osgiliath falls, the last defense of this city will fall."
"I won't see Gondor fall to ruin. We must do something, we must fight."
"But we have the White Wizard, that's got to count for something." Pippin smiled widely up at Gandalf and I didn't know if he was trying to alleviate the tension between Gandalf and I or if he was serious. But when Gandalf didn't smile back, Pippin's faded. "Gandalf?"
"Sauron is yet to reveal His deadliest servant, the one who will lead Mordor's armies to war." I had heard of such a thing, whispered about occasionally and spoke of in frightened tones.
"The one they say no living man can kill." I murmured, seeing Pippin look up at me when I spoke. "The Witch-King of Angmar."
"You've met him before Pippin." Gandalf told the Hobbit, who turned his head to look back up at the old man. "He stabbed Frodo on Weathertop."
When the words left Gandalf's mouth, a faint pain throbbed in my shoulder. A hand flew unconsciously to the place, and Gandalf looked up from Pippin to me with an apologetic look. He reached out and massaged my shoulder gently.
"He is the lord of the Nazgûl, the greatest of the Nine. Minas Morgul is his lair." I said once the pain had subsided. Gandalf took his hand back. Just as he did, my eyes met a new sight out at Mordor. A greenish-white light had shot up in Minas Morgul and pierced the sky. Gandalf leaned back, seeing it too. Pippin's eyes widened. I was quick to wrap an arm around his shoulders to comfort him.
"We come to it at last…the great battle of our time." Gandalf said mournfully. "The board is set, the pieces are moving."
Legolas's POV
Night had settled in, the second night that Adette had been away. I had suspected that the journey to Minas Tirith took a day, and so I hoped she was asleep in a bed tonight instead of riding a horse. I myself was standing outside of the castle on the ledge as I had the other night. I looked up at the stars as they poked out from the dark.
I felt a hand on my shoulder but didn't move. I continued to look up at the sky as the person moved to my side, a hand still on my shoulder. I knew it was Aragorn, who obviously couldn't sleep either.
"You're awake too?" He asked. I turned my head to look at him, seeing that he was gazing up at the sky.
"Do I look asleep?" I asked sarcastically, earning a grin. He looked away from the sky and instead met my eyes.
"You miss her don't you?"
"Of course I do." I answered softly, returning my eyes to the sky. "And I can't help but think that we should ride to Minas Tirith after them."
"Legolas, if the beacons aren't lit in three days, you and I will ride to Minas Tirith. I promise. But you have to give them time."
"I'm growing impatient."
"I know you are mellon," his hand left my shoulder, "but just hang on for three days." He turned and took a step, but then changed his mind. "Are you coming in?"
"Soon, go on without me." I said without looking at him. I heard him walk to the castle doors, open them, and then close them quietly behind him. I folded my hands behind my back and closed my eyes. Three days.
Suddenly a gust of wind blew my hood back, and I snapped my eyes open, but saw nothing. I thought nothing of it, and simply turned to go back into the castle.