AnnamariahI feel so loved when people like my suits, at least there are other people who have good taste besides me. (Glares at Winkle.) I was wondering if anyone would catch the whole Incredibles thing. I love that movie. Hope you like this chapter as much as the last.

faeriekittie306 animeloverWell I am glad to know that you are not as crazy as Denethor, that is a great relief. Be nice to the people at school and don't throw anyone up against the wall.

PlainAndSimpleDarling we simply adore your reviews they're always so nice and long! As to hurting Emily well you will have to wait and see what may happen to that sweet cherry! And I sincerely hope that no one gets a planatir as a Christmas gift.

Carlithirel AmaranthaJust because they are good writers doesn't mean that their always geniuses as to what they do, honestly! Lembas bread and cherry tomatoes? Yuck! (guzzles the rootbeer and burps politely) Thanks!

Nolitari (too lazy to actually sign in) : Now everyone will know how lazy you are! Hahahahahahah! Otherwise thank you for the hideously long review we love them! As to what we may or may not do with Glorifindel you will have to wait and see. Thanks again for the pie!

theycallmemaryThank you so much for all the kudos people! I love writing something and having you all love it! H-u-m-o-r-o-u-s that's how you spell it, you weren't too far off the mark.


chelseypudgeBeyond good? WOW! Thank you! Please keep reading, let us know if our quality ever lessens and we'll fix it!

AraelMoonchildThe Fellowship on Ritalin? Scary thought. Leggy? Did you say leggy? I sincerely hope that you do not belong to that faction of girls that gives the PRINCE OF MIRKWOOD silly nicknames. Kisses!

Slayer3 : No they are not yours! They belong to themselves and should never, I repeat never used as little pets and lap dogs. Shame on you! Shame, shame, shame!Winkle and I are Reliant K people ourselves.

crazyroninchicHere is our up date really really soon!

AmfmchicWoot: an exclamation of happiness. The Merriam Webster Dictionary.It's a real word now!

Pancake : Coping with doting, physiologically unstable in-laws is a rare talent that you are born with rather then learn. Emily's just lucky she has it or she would be dead by now! Thank you so much for your comment about our story be your favorite, it makes little circles of happiness chase around our hearts! And it's Authors in the plural, and be blessed as well!


Eruanna92 : Denethor needs to be locked in a cage and left there with only Mr. Rogers for entertainment.!

Elvin BlueEyes WE LOVE YOUR REVIEWS SO MUCH! REVIEW SOON!

Chicky Poo Yes, Barbara needs to fall in love with someone who will calm her down a little. She's everyone's favorite I think.

Erasuithiel : Aha! Cakes all round! I want Boromir to Gondor soon too, beside Emily misses him and the men need his leadership, they're not used to Gandalf or Aragorn for that matter.

Ty-Kwan-Do : Read the chapters darling! And then you will not be confused anymore! By the way its great to hear from you in such a long time!

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Chapter 27

The Plunge and Dead Earnest

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Emily's POV

"Oh my soul! Whatever can I do? Please wake up my Lady, please! Oh, I'll have to fetch help!"

I heard this as a vague cry from far away and felt warm hands slapping my own. I tried to answer but what came out of my mouth was a groan. I opened my eyes and my focus landed on the black wood beams embedded in the chamber ceiling. My hair had fallen into my face and mouth and I wanted to brush it away.

However my arms had taken my hands and all motor movement to Hawaii for a vacation and the best I could do was blink. This seemed to throw my rescuer into fits of crying as she "fell on my neck weeping and sobbing" (note to remember: this is a disgusting experience)

All over my body was pins and needles that weird feeling that comes when blood starts flowing back into your leg or arm when its fallen asleep. I laid as still as I could as the hysterical girl on my shoulder sobbed and jerked me around. Swallowing I finally croaked out, "Will you shut up and help me?"

A gasp came from the girl and she sat back amazed her stupid face half frightened at I was actually alive. "My lady…forgive me…I…shall I go and fetch Ioreth?"

"Yes, go and find her and tell I need some help, but if you some much as cry or wail I will see you are dismissed from your post in the citadel. Do I make myself clear?" She nodded and ran off down the staircase and I was left alone in the dark tower room.

Now I knew that would not come, but I can't explain what the Sauron enforced darkness was like. There was a thick soupy like a dense fog but still there was a luminous quality that allowed me to see the outlines of the room. I still lay on the floor where I had landed the night before, but the planatir was missing (What a surprise.)

I was helped down the stairs in time to see Faramir leaving with that lost hurt expression on his face and Gandalf running after him shouting something about Denethor really loving him. All I can say is "Gandalf you don't know nothing!"

Oddly enough I wasn't really hurt I had a few bruises, but other then that I was okay. Ioreth found another black dress for me and I spent some time in front of a roaring fire trying to defrost my blood. Denethor sent for me, but I told Ioreth that I was feeling weak and ill (not a lie I was feeling ill at the idea of seeing him again)

So it was much later in the day near three in the afternoon that Denethor was announced at my door. I can't tell you how afraid I was when he swept into the room his brow furrowed, his long voluminous black robes making him look like a great black crow.

I sat beside the fire still and tried to look neutral, I wanted to yell at him for sending Faramir off to his potential death and the certain deaths of all his men. But I didn't get the chance.

"My dear how are you? I hope you are feeling better?" he said as he sat. Well, I guess he really didn't remember what had happened the night before, so I suppose that I won't bring it up.

"Yes, my lord much better. It was just so cold in the towe-- in my room that I think I caught a cold. How goes the battle?"

He sighed and looked into the fire drawing eerie recollections of the night before by the reflections of fire in his grey eyes. "We are attempting to retake Osgililath so that Sauron's army cannot control the river. We continue to enforce the battlements and walls, but I have no hope that we will be able to resist the coming tide."

He stood and went to the window saying, "All the land beyond the river is possessed by the orcs and we continue to be harassed by the Nazgul."

"Shouldn't you say that a little quieter?" I said, I had learned that mentioning them usually brought them out of no where.

"What's the purpose?" Denethor snorted. "We'll all fall some way and at this point the only thing to wonder about is how we shall each meet our end."

He turned at this and saw my face which I hope looked ghastly, "What is it my dear?"

"You…you fault Faramir for trying to save Gondor, you send him on a hopeless mission and to save Gondor and all you can speak of is the fall of it. Can you not try to think beyond what you saw in the palantir?"

He froze and I stared right back at him, I moved slowly across the room and laid my hand on his arm gently, "Father, please. Don't allow that tainted vision direct your judgment, all it can do is deceive you. Please…I don't ask you to seek council in Gandalf, but inside yourself. Remember whose blood flows through your veins, you are of such a noble line that you can surely defend Gondor as the kings of old did. More depends on you then you know."

He covered my hand with his and for once his eyes grew soft and his voice lost the mocking coldness of earlier. "You truly believe that Gondor can be saved?"

"I know that it will be saved Father, we…I…all of Gondor looks to you for its strength." I said.

He smiled ever so slightly and squeezed my hand, "You never called me Father before, and I am sorry that it could only be said now when I would have liked to hear it more. But if Gondor is to fall then it will make a glorious ending."

I nodded and he went to the door stopping at the threshold, "My dear, I have one question yet."

"Yes, what is it?" I asked, Here it comes, the whole "What were you doing spying on me?" thing.

Instead he came back over to me and asked quietly, "Is…is there a child?"

"A wha…whoa!" I said, okay this was taking an unexpected turn! "I…I don't know, Father maybe…I can't be sure. I am sorry."

His face fell a little and he nodded, "Well, I could only hope my dear. I hope that you feel better and thank you for your words. If we ever get out of this alive I promise that I will not use that…that thing again."

"I am so glad." I answered although I didn't have much hope for that big a turn around for him. "You'd better go and see to the city, I may join you later."

"Very well," he said and with a bow and smile he was gone. I sat down on my chair by the fire and took a deep breath, okay so he wanted to know if I was…if I was…if I had…if I…was…pregnant?

Unconsciously my hand crept down to my stomach, felt normal to me. I shook my head, now I was being weird. I shouldn't allow my father-in-law to make me second guess myself or I would become as weird as he was.

But was I?

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Barbara's POV.

After leaving behind the skeleton, we continued on the road, which seemed to grow progressively wider. Side streets branched off, disappearing into the dull grey gloom, and gaping windows yawned in crumbling houses. It looked like a huge, abandoned city, left there to rot thousands of years before…

Aragorn was at the front, and I could read high tension in the way his eyes flickered and searched every corner, a certain muscle in his jaw twitching every now and then. As he walked, I could also see the Ranger, the way he leaned slightly forward, the way he blended into his surroundings. His hand was resting on the hilt of Narsil, and it was a testament to his control that he wasn't clutching or gripping it, he was just prepared to use it.

Legolas was like a shadow. He was here, and there, slipping in and out of the shadows like a ghost, eyes darting here and there. You would turn around to say something to him, and discover that he was gone, prowling through yet another musty corner that might conceal some hidden enemy. He reminded me distinctly of a cat, and I have never been able to shake the idea since.

The twins had suddenly changed also, instead of jesting and arguing with each other, their faces were calm and serious, and in the way they moved their heads, and used their hands, they reminded me very much of Elrond. Except that I don't think Elrond carries rangery, leather-handled knives inside his cloak. I always imagine him with a stethoscope, or tongue depressor anyway.

And me? I have no idea what I looked like then, though I have the idea that I looked like a sixteen year old who's clothes could use a wash ( by that time we all could have used some Tide) and who has no idea of what she was getting into.

Gimli looked like a dwarf who did know what he was getting into…and he didn't relish the thought! His big, greasy hand was wielding his axe in a death grip, and instead of bragging like in Lorien, he was deathly silent, glancing about in a kind of horrified interest. Instead of thinking he was a coward, I was glad to find someone who felt the same way I did.

Because I was terrified.

Now, I have never been a coward, and I have never believed in ghosts. But I could sense a presence in Dimholt, and I had no idea what it was. It might have helped if there had been some swirling mist or "ooooooahhhhhhhpeanutbutterandjellywohohooooooh" noises coming out of nowhere.

But it was silent. Completely, and utterly silent.

"What is it? What do you see?" Gimli whispered hoarsely, and I jumped about a mile high, hand automatically reaching back for an arrow-for I still wasn't used to my sword. I awkwardly let my hand drop, hoping nobody had noticed. Nobody did. They were listening to Legolas.

"I see shapes of men." Legolas eyes were wide, and glowing with an odd light "And of horses."

"Where?" Gimli looked around, as if expecting to be able to see what the elf did. I would have made a sarcastic reply ( try the ceiling shortstop) but I was too scared.

"Pale banners like shreds of cloud. Spears rise like winter-thickets through a shroud of mist." And silently I mouthed the rest of the words along with him "The Dead are following. They have been summoned."

"The Dead?" Gimli said, coughing nervously "Summoned? I knew that. Very good. Very good! Legolas!" The dwarf started walking faster, trying to keep pace with his stork-legged friend, who obligingly slowed down.


"Do not look down." Aragorn's quiet command was well meant, but both I and Gimli automatically looked down, we're weren't about to walk into something nasty. Such a hundreds upon hundreds of musty, yellowed and grinning skulls.

"Omigosh." I said in disgust "It looks like they've got the entire population of California here.

At first I simply picked my way through them, trying to avoid touching them. At one point though they became so thick we literally had to wade through them, ignoring the skulls as they clunked about our ankles. I supposed that this is where the Dead usually asked their round of questions ( Why are you here? Do you have any Hostess cupcakes? Right then, you must die.)

And then…they thinned out, until there were absolutely none. At first I took this as a good sign-but then an ominous thought occurred to me. Maybe there were no skulls here because no one had gotten beyond that point. Our skulls would make an all-new record for idiots who ventured into Dimholt.

We were just entering a huge, shadowy hall…when it started. The mist I had been "hoping" for had begun to gather around us, green and cold. Icy cold, and you could almost see hands reaching out…ready to touch you.

"Who enters my domain?"

The hair stood up on the back of my neck, as I slowly, slowly turned around, along with everyone else. My jaw dropped.

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Emily's POV

I made my way to the throne room where I found Denethor deep in council with one of his captains. As soon as I caught my father-in-law's eye Denethor dismissed the man with orders to "Keep reinforcing the walls and gatehouse."

Denethor met me halfway and lead me to a chair, I let him because I still felt wretched from the night before. Obviously Denethor had no recollection of the encounter and I wasn't about to remind him. We sat in relative silence until it felt like the whole mountain shook. One after the other wave after wave of shock hit the mountain and made the cups on Denethor's table dance to the floor where they shattered.

We were hard put to it to stay in our seats and when the door flew open on its own from a blast we ran for the out of doors. The sight that greeted our eyes was one that could make a strong man faint. The city was surrounded on all sides by thousands, hundreds upon thousands of orcs and Uruk ki. They had catapults that fired round after round of flaming missiles into the city below us.

"Oh my God!"

The exclamation broke from my lips as the realization of what was happening hit me. You know in Fan fiction usually the girls who get thrown back in time find the battle of Pelennor fields to be really uninteresting or seem to make it small. They're idiots. I repeat "Idiots."

The whole country side was swarming with black armies and the only light that came was from the fiery balls that were killing people every time one landed in the city. Screams and cries echoed around us as more and more men and young boys fell to the cursed things.

But at the walls and gate a vast brigade of archers manned their posts and legions of orcs were being cut down before they ever got close to the walls. Already heaps of them were forming.

We had some hope, I knew that, Aragorn would come soon and so would the Rohairrim. But watching people dying around you can shake even the greatest certainty. A wild scream behind me made me aware that Denethor and I were not alone. A small number of soldiers brought a bleeding and half dead Faramir to us. Denethor fell to his knees and wept.

"My Lord I think he will live if we take him to the Healing houses immediately." said Beregond. Denethor ignored him, and wailed, "My line has ended!" Faramir moaned softly and tossed to and fro on the meager cot. He was bleeding badly but the worst was the fever. I have never in all my life felt a higher fever then Faramir's, by rights he should already have been dead from that alone.

Beregond looked to me desperately, I knew his hands were tied since he was a guard. I knew too that Beregond would only break his oath later when Faramir was sure to die. I knelt beside Denethor, "Father, Father? Come let Beregond take Faramir to the Healing Houses, that way we can know for sure if he's truly dead or not. Please Father don't despair so quickly."

He trembled and I saw with horror that his eyes had that eerie cast and that his features had hardened. I backed away immediately and shook my head at Beregond and his men.

"Take him inside Beregond now!" Denethor barked.

He cast a glance at me and went by to the wall and did the whole "Flee! Abound your posts!"

A flash of white and a stir of wind and then a satisfying "Thunk" as Denethor sank to the ground. I was never so glad to see someone knocked out in my life!

"Thank God you're here Gandalf." I said and hugged him and then Pippin as the little guy came running up.

"I am glad to see you retuned to your normal cheerful self." commented Gandalf dryly. I nodded and he went to Beregond and issued orders in rapid fire fashion. "Prepare for battle! Pull them in! To the wall and return to your posts!"

The soldiers stalled a moment and looked from Gandalf to Denethor and back to the wizard. I guess they were tired of following the orders of a manic because they nodded and at Gandalf's order to "Send these foul beast into the abyss!" they let fly such a hail of arrows that the sky darkened as they sailed through the air.

Pippin and I left with Faramir's guard. "Do you think he'll be alright?" the hobbit asked. I nodded and called for a bowl of cold water and a rag. I would do what I could and wait till Aragorn showed up to heal Faramir. "By the way Pippin, you must stay at the side of Faramir and not leave for any reason, not one. Do you understand?"

Pippin smiled and said, "I can't do anything a else I might as well to this. Where are you going?"

"I have something to find before Denethor wakes up, just stay with Faramir, wash his forehead over and over with that water and see if Ioreth can do anything for those wounds." I said.

I was a woman on a mission…quest…thing. I had to find the planatir before Denethor woke up and was poisoned by its power anymore. With every hit the city took bits of dust and stone fell covering everything in a powdery film. When I made it to the courtyard where we had left Denethor he was already gone and one glance at the tower was enough to met me know that he was in the grip of the seeing stone.

Okay, well I couldn't help with that but I had to find Gandalf and warned him about Grond the big iron wolf battering ram. Personally I never thought the thing in PJ's movies looked like a wolf, more like a demonic rat but that's just me.

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Barb's POV.

I suppose in some respects he looked like the King of the Dead we all envisioned…but he was so much worse. It was if the green mist had gathered itself into a shifting, transparent human form. He was tall, taller than Aragorn even. His body seemed disconnected from his limbs somehow, and they shifted and flickered as he moved closer.

But he was not a ragged figure, rather he was resplendent in long, flowing robes, a jeweled crown resting upon his head. But it was the furtive way he looked around, and the fierce, burning light of his eyes made you feel as if he could look directly into your soul.

"One who will have your allegiance." Aragorn's voice was hard, and he stepped closer to the chilling King.

"The dead do not suffer the living to pass." the King rasped, face twisting with hate, and I noticed his hand reaching…reaching for a sword. But he did not withdraw it.

"You will suffer me!"

But instead of getting angry, the King began to laugh, in a hysterical, maniacal way, and the sound seemed to grow and warp until it echoed all over the cavern.

"Oh, no." I said automatically.

Out of every crook and cranny, ghosts of men, men in armor and carrying weapons were emerging. There was even one bearing a high, floating banner, a dark reminder of what these creatures used to be.

"The way is shut...it was made by those who are dead...and the dead keep it."

I was petrified, standing there, slack jawed and frozen. As the ghosts neared, Boromir stood solidly in front of me, but I literally could not move. When our perfectly friendly Legolas said it, it was creepy enough. But when it was said by someone who was in "dead" earnest…wait a minute, dead earnest? Ok, that was intentional.

"The way is shut. Now you must die."

Now see here, Legolas was not such an idiot that he thought he could kill someone who was already dead with a stupid arrow. He looked desperate though, and I think that counts for something. The King was coming closer to Aragorn, who stood his ground. "I summon you to fulfill your oath."

"None, but the king of Gondor may command me!" he gritted back, and there was a sudden clash as his sword met Andúril.

"That blade was broken!" he said, tone changing to a whiny pitch.

"It has been remade." Aragorn snarled back, and pressed the sword closer to his neck.

The ghosts surrounding us recoiled, and a distressed hiss arose from them. Even the king tried to pull away, but Aragorn only stepped closer, his sword glinting with an inner fire.

"Fight for us and regain your honor." He said, and backed away, trying to reason with them. He looked around at all the men, and then back to the king. Nobody said anything.

"What say you?" he demanded, holding the sword high, letting all the dead…spirit…things see it. No answer.

"I can see they're in a talkative mood." I muttered "Must be one of those strong, silent types. Like Celeborn, look impressive, but don't say anything." Elladan glared at me out of the corner of his eye, but didn't say anything. Oh, yeah, I forgot. Celeborn was his grandfather. The question is, did the twins ever call him Gramps?

"What say you?"

"You waste your time, Aragorn! They had no honor in life, they have none now in death." Gimli said, and glared at the king, apparently having forgotten his fear for a minute.

"I am Isildur's heir. Fight for me, and I will hold your oath fulfilled!"

But instead of being cooperative and saying something nice like "What ho, chaps, lets chuck these bally caves up and follow this flippin' heir." they started to laugh again. And then they started mellllllting like the witch in the wizard of Oz.

So we were left, in these huge empty caves; one ranger, one steward's son, one son of Gloin, twin sons of Elrond, and me, someone who was still staring into nowhere with somewhat vacant eyes.

But you know what gets me? Why, or how did ghosts store all those skulls in giant vats? Bet you a fiver they didn't even know Isildur even had an heir, to say nothing of said heir coming to knock on their door and asking for help. But they had millions of these skulls, and now they were going to kill us, heir or no heir.

The whole room started to tremble like in an earthquake, and we all were frozen for an instant, watching a veritable ocean of skulls come pouring towards us. I finally found my voice, an instant before they reached us.

"Run!" I screamed.

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Emily's POV

I didn't have a real plan after I lost Denethor, but when Ioreth ran by with the other women from the houses of healing I went with them. Ioreth was barking out orders in much the same way that Gandalf had been earlier.

"Melba, Felicity, fetch all the caldrons you can from the kitchens. Kessla set up a bucket chain so the House yard so we can fill them without stopping! Hurry, we need to be fast."

I helped in the bucket brigade and we passed hundreds of buckets of water to the women in the courtyard of the healing houses. I wasn't sure just what we were doing, but I had to do something to help. In the city ring below us the men were holding off the trolls with a tiny gate, I knew it wouldn't last much longer though.

The women were bringing wood and starting fires under the caldrons that were full of water and in some cases oil. Once they were filed we set about tending to the wounded who began pouring into the yard from the lower ring. Beds were filled and many hands went to work helping to staunch heavy wounds while food was given to the those who were not badly hurt.

What made me sick to my stomach was the realization that there were so few men to treat.

The fact that so many were dead already filled me with a horrible dread, we were losing and losing badly. The heavy weight that had fallen on me earlier felt worse as I began to doubt that we would last till Rohan got there.

Till we died or were saved I had to think outside of myself and I went from man to man binding wounds and saying encouraging words. One poor man whose son had died right before his eyes was sobbing wildly as he fought to get away from his friends.

"You don't understand he needs my help, he's only a lad! Let me go I tell you!" he cried. One of the men holding him back said, "You can't do anything for him, Hadler, he's gone!"

"No!" he sobbed. His friend struck him hard across the face and said, "Get back to your senses man, Gondor calls you to defend her not to forget your duty!"

I recoiled from the insensitivity of the solider but the call to duty seemed to snap the other man out of his grief. They stood and went back to help hold the gates and for a moment I marveled at the amazing sense of duty that drove these men.

Below us the gate broke and the trolls came smashing through with huge maces and clubs. If you have never seen a man smashed to a pulp with one of these weapons you are a lucky person. I did, many, many times that night, the sight haunts me still.

The men ran for the next gate that the soldiers were readying to close it after their comrades got through. This is where we women came in. Lifting the caldrons of boiling water between poles we took them to the wall and poised them on the brink.

As our men ran by we all heaved and just at the moment that the trolls came under we tipped hundreds of boiling water onto them. I could go on about the horrific cries and screams of dying trolls, but with the cries of men dying in our ears we didn't care two cents. Suffice it to say that our plan worked and the trolls died.

We filled them again and again and for a few hours held off the orcs and Uruk-ki with boiling water and at times oil.

The men brought hunks of wall and brick and the archers finally arrived with their bows and we gave them everything we had as the night stretched on. And we were doing a darn good job.

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