FIRST KNIGHT BY ASHA DREAMWEAVER
Disclaimer: I own nothing but the plot.
Summary: BtVS/LotR. Buffy is sent to Middle Earth to help bring down Sauron. Her duty, like the Istari, is not to confront Sauron directly but to help those fated to face him bring him down. More specifically, she has to help the King of Gondor get on his throne. Will Arwen and Aragorn's love stand against the shadow? Will Legolas be able to keep a secret, which if revealed, could shatter the lives of those he cares for? Will Buffy be able to fulfil her duty? Will Denethor be able to put aside his animosity for the man who would supplant him? Will the ringbearer reach Mount Doom, or will he be cut down before he reaches his goal? And will Boromir resist the lure of the ring?
Author's notes: Okay, it is official people; we are into the Return of the King and with it the final stretch of this tale. All that comes afterward will have to come in the sequel.
Review responses:
Allen Pitt - thanks! And you could hope…. And I think falling down the stairs is a little too good for him. And there will be a villain-cross from SunnyD in the sequel. You guess who.
Arcrose - thanks! And Buffy vs. Denethor is bound to be entertaining! And Galadriel surrender the claim to 'all-knowing'? Never! And let's just say that Sauron has quite a few tricks up his sleeve… and yes, the POV is going to split from here on out.
BG - I am always happy to convert someone!
Boo - He was sensing Evil. Sauron is majorly evil. But he is also of royal descent so I figured he could do it too.
ChibiChibi - nearly 50 actually. And I would imagine that Buffy could give the Corsairs a right fright, but somehow I doubt more than an army of dead, vengeful ghosts. Besides, I have a better use for her elsewhere… and yes, Boromir is on his way back. And Denethor? Reasonable?
FallenAngelLindsay - I have actually passed responsibility for HRI onto another author. So it's up to her when she posts.
Lady Meridia - no, Aragorn won't. He is going to be a little busy with ghosts. And twins. But when he gets to Gondor… hmmm… I'll let you guess….
Lali-chan - thanks! And of course I can make it worse! Never underestimate me in that department! And I always wondered what Legolas would have said about the 'toss me' incident so I wrote it in… Arwen will meet Legolas. Eventually. And I think Buffy has died about three or four times now. And the twins are returning in the next chapter or two.
Lisette - I get what you mean about the whole Angel thing. And I agree with it.
Lunawolf - I'm hurt. You truly think that I don't have something evil planned! Shame on you!
Pamie884 - thanks! And I'm always planning something evil… be wary… be very wary…
Redcristal - thanks! And yes, you're forgiven. And yes, Denethor should be pitied! See what happens to him in just one chapter! Cool idea about the Pelennor. I did think of that actually. Good luck on your own crossover!
Reyavie - welcome and thanks! And yes, I like to keep you hanging.
Selene - which he?
Shabopo - of course he is. He's Aragorn. And Buffy's reasons to go to Gondor will be revealed in time…
ShawThang - Don't worry. Boromir will be showing up in the next chapter or two!
Spammer - alas, no she didn't.
Star - thanks and welcome back!
Talina - no, he doesn't.
Tenshikoneko03 - on a scale of one to ten, I'd guess at least a fifteen.
Tsuki no Yasha - thanks! And you will have to wait until they're in the same country again for any more B/A fluff.
Wild320 - thanks!
White-Witch-Sakura - you want them married? Aren't they pretty much already? And sadly, can't say whether ending will be happy or sad yet.
Willow Spirit - Cool name Kit-Kat! And you're right, she wouldn't have. And sparks in Gondor? I think bonfires are more like it!
XinnLajgin - Not literally.
And major thanks to:
AidanPryde, Athene Saile, Claddagh, d347hbyp45510n, ellie, Imp17, jumping-jo, Light Spinner, Little Red Rabbit, Mari, Nicole, Sukera, The Great and Powerful Oz, The Greymalkin, The Lady Reaper of the Shadows,
CHAPTER FORTY-NINE: THE SHADOW'S THRALL
Genius may have its limitations, but stupidity is not thus handicapped.
Elbert Hubbard
Dol Amroth, Gondor, 3019 TA, March 12. - Night.
When Lothíriel, Princess of Dol Amroth, was roused from her bed to be informed of a strange visitor in the night, she immediately feared the worst. Her father, Prince Imrahil, and her brothers were but lately gone to ride to the aid of Minas Tirith, leaving her in and the Captain of his guard in charge of the city and its defence. Surely something had not befallen them on the road to the White City?
Hurriedly slipping into a dress, she belted a loose robe around her and not bothering to tie back her loose dark hair, she hurried to the reception room.
The servant disappeared after they reached the room, and so when Lothíriel entered, it was to see a figure swathed in a cloak of shifting colour, their back to her, gazing into the small blaze of the fire.
"Who disturbs me at this hour of the night?" Lothíriel demanded imperiously, sternly hiding her hammering heart behind years of court training. "And why did you refuse to tell the guards your name?"
"You are Princess Lothíriel, yes?" the figure asked, their voice low and melodious and it gave Lothíriel a jolt to hear it. It could not be…
"I am," she answered steadily, "But again, who asks? War darkens our doorstep, I am sure that you understand my need for clarity."
The figure laughed lightly, "I do indeed," they agreed and then they lowered their cloak to reveal a stunning vision of Elven luminosity that had not been seen in Dol Amroth since Lothíriel's own forebear had been alive. Raven dark hair fell down her back but it was the stunning beauty and the pointed ears that had Lothíriel gaping in a most un-ladylike fashion.
"I am Arwen, daughter of Elrond of Rivendell," the she-Elf said, grey eyes boring into hers, "And I come to ask for your hospitality in these dark times."
"Rivendell?" Lothíriel repeated, trying to wrap her mind around this surreal conversation, "From the north? By the stars, what are you doing here? Do you not know that war is coming?"
"'Tis why I came," Arwen replied, smiling slightly, "My ship docked here this eve but alas, he who I was fated to meet has not yet arrived. I would most humbly beg your hospitality until he does come."
"You are serious," Lothíriel stated incredulously before remembering her manners and gesturing for the Elf-maid to take a seat. "Forgive me for my rudeness, my Lady. But who is it that you are to meet?"
"You do not have to be so formal with me, Princess," Arwen said gently, "You are of Elven descent and I have mortal blood in my veins. We are not so far apart as you may think. But to answer your question, I come to await a cousin of yours."
She had only one male cousin left living, so she swiftly wondered what this Elven lady wanted with her cousin. "Faramir? But he is much in Ithilien and duty would not allow him to meet you here! Sauron is said to be marching on Minas Tirith. He is needed there."
Arwen smiled conspiratorially, but her eyes were deadly serious, "I come here to help in the war whatever way I can. And what I am about to impart to you should no go further than here, - I await not Faramir, but his brother, Boromir, who is making his way to this city."
Not for the first time that night, Lothíriel of Dol Amroth was speechless.
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Minas Tirith, Gondor, 3019 TA, March 14.
After two days hard riding, having been forced to endure Gandalf's not so tuneful rendition of Bilbo's travelling song until Buffy put a dent in the wizard's hat, both slayer and hobbit were immensely relieved to finally see the seven walls of the White City over the horizon. Buffy gazed on them with a wary familiarity, remembering her first exposure to the large cities of Men and for Pippin's part; he was just struck with the sheer size and grandeur of the place, even from the distance.
"Is that it?" he whispered in wonder, eyes fixed on the city.
Gandalf looked at him fondly, "Aye, it is. Minas Tirith. City of Kings, is that not right, Buffy?"
"You are the only one here who actually saw a king on his throne here, so I'll leave the history bit to you," Buffy said in annoyance, and wondered what the wizard's point was. If his jabs got any less subtle, soon Pippin would be very well acquainted with the whole saga. Something that she did not want.
She looked at the glistening walls and then turned to Pippin conspiratorially, "Actually, it is good to be back in the White City. The locals all speak Westron, and I know who to beat up for information. Yep, definitely good to be back."
She swore that if Gandalf could have glared at her from his position in front, he would have.
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"The only thing necessary for the triumph of evil is for good men to do nothing."
Edmund Burke
The Citadel, Minas Tirith, Gondor, 3019 TA, March 14.
As they wound their way up through the seven levels of the city, Buffy kept her hood up to forestall any commotion. She had no illusions as to what Denethor was likely to try to do to her. After all, the last time she had threatened him with bodily harm, his father had been Steward and Ecthelion had happened to like Buffy. But she had no doubts that if he saw her once again, revenge would be an option he would exercise.
Drawing rein in the grand Citadel, where the fountain bubbled merrily near to a withered white tree. As soon as Pippin saw it, his eyes went wide, "It's the tree. Gandalf!" he exclaimed.
Gandalf nodded patiently, "Yes, the White Tree of Gondor. The Tree of the King…. And his family," as he said that, he looked to Buffy and she watched him suspiciously, seeing the strange light in that gaze, "But no king dwells here yet, only his steward. Lord Denethor is not the king. He is a steward only. Forever but a caretaker of the throne."
"And boy, doesn't he hate being reminded of that little fact," Buffy grumbled under her breath causing Pippin to look at her curiously.
Gandalf paused outside the steps and looked at his two companions, "Buffy, I believe that Denethor would not welcome you into his halls?"
She scoffed at that understatement, "More like try to skewer me, you mean. Why?"
"Because I think it would be best if you slipped in unnoticed. That way Denethor could not try to evict you until it was too late." He paused and looked at her sternly, "And hopefully avoid you trying to manhandle the Steward of Gondor."
"Hey!" Buffy remarked defensively, "I wasn't going to use violence!" They stared at her disbelievingly, "I don't always use violence. Do I?"
Pippin stared at her, before shaking his head, "The important thing is that you believe that." he said drolly. Gandalf chuckled at the hobbit's words but Buffy just glared at him.
"Buffy, would you care to enlighten Pippin as to why he should keep his mouth shut?" Gandalf asked before Buffy could retaliate.
"Um, 'cos he's Boromir's father, a pompous ass and a power hungry jerk?" Buffy said mock thoughtfully, "Or would it be that if he found out about Frodo, he would try to take the Ring for himself without question? And string us up a shiny post?"
Gandalf sighed, "Listen carefully, Pippin. As Buffy said ever so graciously, Lord Denethor is Boromir's father. To give him news of his beloved son's death would be most unwise for he loved Boromir greatly. And do not mention Frodo, or the Ring. And say nothing of Aragorn, either. Or Buffy. In fact, 'tis better if you do not speak at all, Peregrin Took."
Pippin looked affronted as he trotted behind Gandalf but Buffy just laughed at him. Payback was a bitch, after all…
As soon as Gandalf and Pippin asked for admission into the hall, Buffy skittered up into the rafters and followed their path from above. After all, when dealing with Denethor, she had learned never to underestimate how low he could go.
When she got her first look at him, she was surprised. The line of Númenor was long lived, as Ecthelion had been, but Denethor looked aged beyond his years. And very cranky. Seated on the black throne like chair below the white marble throne of the king, clutching the white rod of the Steward, he looked very inconsequential.
Gandalf came forward, Pippin trailing in his wake, "Hail Denethor, son of Ecthelion, Lord and Steward of Gondor." he said formally, "I come with tidings in this dark hour, and with counsel."
Denethor did not look up. Instead, he plucked a cloven horn, Boromir's horn, from his lap and held it up slightly so that they could see. "Perhaps you come to explain this." he said, pinning Gandalf with a deadened and unwelcoming stare, "Perhaps you come to tell me why my son is dead."
Inwardly, Buffy cursed. How could he have heard of Boromir's 'death' already, when Boromir was not even really dead! And where on earth did he get the horn from?
Gandalf looked puzzled, but to both slayer and wizard's horror, Pippin stepped forward guiltily when he recognised the horn. "Boromir died to save us," he stated suddenly, causing Denethor to focus on him, "My kinsman and me. He fell defending us from many foes. He was a brave and valiant man."
Gandalf took a step forward, trying to recover from the hobbit's mistake, "Pippin!" Buffy chucked a pebble at the hobbit but nothing deterred him as he knelt down on the floor, "I offer you my service, such as it is, in payment of this debt."
Buffy groaned at his words even as Gandalf whacked the hobbit with his staff, "Get up!" he hissed, and then turned then to Denethor, trying to get the hobbit out of the mess that he had inadvertently dumped himself in, "Ignore the hobbit, my Lord, there will be another time to grieve for Boromir. But it is not now. War is coming. The enemy is on your doorstep! As steward, you are charged with the defence of this city! Where are Gondor's armies? It is not yet too late. You still have friends. You are not alone in this fight. Send word to the King of Rohan. Light the beacons..."
Denethor nearly snarled at the wizard's commanding tone, "You think you are wise, Mithrandir, yet for all your subtleties you have not wisdom. Do you think the eyes of the White Tower 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 would seek to supplant me! I know who rides with Théoden of Rohan. Oh yes! Word has 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."
Pippin looked up, "Théoden? But Éomer's king now!" he exclaimed to the steward. Gandalf had to mightily resist the urge to clobber Pippin with his staff.
Denethor looked at the wizard with narrowed eyes, "So, Gandalf's 'counsel' strikes again… You kill off the old to make way for the more malleable young. Do not think that I do not see your intent, wizard! I will not bow to the ragged exile you have pulled out in your delirium!"
Gandalf stood firm, but shoved Pippin backwards, "Authority is not given you to deny the return of the king, Steward." he said forcefully.
Riled, Denethor stood up, so the better to spit in the wizard's face, "The rule of Gondor is mine, and no other's!"
"I think you would find many that would disagree with that assessment," a voice drifted down to them from the rafters. The steward jumped in surprise.
Gandalf furiously resisted the urge to clobber both of them now, "Buffy! This is not the time for one of your jesting sessions!" he said with irritation. "Come down from there!"
A petulant voice came from above him, "But I like the rafters," she whined, dropping down beside him with not as sound to mark her passage.
Pippin looked at the roof and then to her, "The floor is not good enough for you?" he asked, oblivious to the contortions going across Denethor's face at the sight of her.
"Easier to scare people this way." she replied airily and then turned to the fuming steward. "Well, nice to see you again too, Denethor. What's the matter? Cat got your tongue?"
"YOU!" Denethor bellowed, hands clenched into fists, "What are you doing in my city!"
"Saving your sorry ass, apparently," Buffy replied coolly, placing her hands on her hips, "And may I remind you that it's not your city. But Aragorn's."
"You filthy little wench!" Denethor spat, "You have been helping that fool of a wizard, have you not! Conspiring to rob me of my lands!"
Buffy sighed, "I am sick and tired of you blaming me for everything you can't handle." she said angrily, trying to keep her temper as Gandalf let her and the steward duke it out, "You want to be enemies? Try me. But one hint of warning, I'm nasty. And I don't like you."
"You dare threaten the steward of Gondor?" Denethor snarled, "Guards!" he called, causing several of the citadel guards to race in, "This woman has made a threat on my life and seeks to overthrow my rule! Take her to the dungeons and keep her there!"
Buffy waved at the guards who stared between the diminutive woman and their lord, "That would be little ol' me. However, if you come near me, I will have to resort to violence. And I can't guarantee that you will leave with all your bones intact. And because Denethor here forgot to mention it, the last time I was in this city, my name was Eliza. Lieutenant Eliza, under Captain Thorongil."
The guards started in surprise at the name, recognising it from tales of 'better days'. They stared at her youthful face and looked at her in plain disbelief. Denethor saw it too and sought to capitalise on it.
"Do not listen to a word she says!" he ordered briskly, "She is a witch! Look at her! Eliza would be my age now. And if she were who she claims to be, that would make her a witch in league with Sauron. Seize her!"
"By the Valar!" Buffy swore, "If someone calls me that just one more time, I will just scream! Please, if anyone's the raving lunatic here, it's Denethor. I'm only going to say this one more time - touch me and you are gonna get hurt."
"I would listen to her if I were you," Pippin said cheerily, for once not looking disconcerted at the prospect of an imminent fight.
Gandalf just stood back, sighing all the while but inwardly cheering as Buffy inadvertently did what he had wanted her to do. Indeed, she was doing such a good job of it that he had to stop himself from humming in glee. Denethor would have to learn not to underestimate a wizard.
"Seize her!" Denethor ordered again and the men advanced on her. Faster than they ever could have expected, Buffy took one of them down with a roundhouse kick and hit another over the head, causing him to drop to the ground. The remaining two men looked between each other and her.
"See?" Buffy said conversationally, "I am not someone to be messed with. So you two guys leave me alone, and I leave you alone. And to be nice, I will even let you take sleepy and groany over here. Sound fair?"
The men of Gondor did not lack in courage, but neither were they fools and Denethor had long been losing support in the eyes of those he ruled. And Buffy, even clad in the worn clothes of a frequent traveller, still had that almost intangible presence that only the highest of nobility seemed to exude. They had seen it before, in Prince Imrahil and Lord Faramir most often, and in Lord Boromir on occasion. Therefore, they knew enough to leave the lady in front of them well alone. Besides, she travelled with Gandalf the Grey, and he had never caused trouble for the city before, save to rile the steward.
Denethor looked at them in disgust as they carted off their injured companions, "Cowards!" he spat, "Or do you bewitch them still Eliza?"
"Actually, it's Buffy now," the slayer said coolly, "And you would do well to remember it. After all, war's coming and my patience is already worn thin. I can still carry through on my threats all those years ago. I trust that you do remember that at least?"
Denethor's deadened eyes flashed menacingly, "This is my realm," he bit out, "And you are hereby banished from it! I will not suffer you in my halls!"
"Ooooooooh! Poor baby," Buffy cooed in a sickeningly sweet voice which abruptly changed to an ice cold one, "But do I look as if I give a damn? I'm here for a reason and that hasn't changed. Now, I can work with you or I can work around you, I don't really care but consider this. - This is a war and we are the soldiers. Tomorrow the war could be over. Isn't that worth fighting for? Or are you the real coward?"
"Whatever sway you held with my father passed with him," Denethor snarled, "I do not have to tolerate you. I will not tolerate you. Do you think that I would allow you and that wizard loose in my city? I am lord here. And I will not allow it."
"What have you seen, Denethor?" Buffy asked, voice frosty and eyes even colder, "What did you see in that palantír? What lies has Sauron shown you?"
Denethor looked at her, surprised at her knowledge. "Nothing that I would ever tell you."
"Listen here, Denethor," Buffy said, warning in her voice as her hand slipped down to the hilt of her sword, "I don't care if you're King of the goddamn world, I'm brassed off and unfortunately for you, you're in convenient firing range as a major cause of it. So I would suggest you start spilling your guts before I do it for you. Literally."
Denethor finally seemed to believe that she was serious in her threats and the rage wilted away to simmering resentment as he returned to his throne. "I care not. We are all lost anyway."
As Buffy stared at him, realising she would get nothing but aggravation from her efforts, Gandalf placed a hand on her shoulder and started to lead her away, "Come," he said quietly, the disgust plain in his voice, "All has turned to vain ambition. There is nothing that will sway him now. He would even use his grief as a cloak. Come, let him be."
Buffy kicked the wall as they reached the edge of the courtyard, staring down at the other six levels of the city, and then towards the Pelennor and the Rammas Echor that enclosed it.
Gandalf muttered angrily as he pondered his options, "Three thousand years this city has stood. Now, at the whim of a madman, it will fall."
"Great," Buffy muttered, "Keep up that level of optimism and maybe we can redecorate the rubble."
He looked at her, and some of his wrath seemed to clear, "If something is not done, the White Tree, the tree of the King, will never bloom again. For the king will not have a city to return to."
Buffy was silent. "Why are they still guarding it?" Pippin asked, looking at the withered remains.
Gandalf followed his gaze and sighed, "They guard it because they have hope." he said simply, "A faint and fading hope that one day it will flower. That a king will come and this city will be as it once was before it fell into decay. They have to hold onto that hope or they cannot stand against Mordor."
"Aragorn will come, Gandalf," Buffy said, "It may take more time than we would like but he'll come. All we have to do is make sure this city is still standing when he does."
"That is easier said than done," Gandalf said, studying her carefully, "The old wisdom borne out of the West is forsaken. The rule of Gondor has been given over to lesser men. Who will lead them now? Since the line of kings failed and the White Tree withered, Minas Tirith has been falling into decay. Who now within these walls can hold it together against the might of Sauron?"
Buffy looked out towards the horizon and towards the creeping fire in the east, the sky lit a violent black and red that steadily reached out its hand towards Gondor. "Mordor lies out there," she said softly, "This city has dwelt ever in the sight of its shadow. I fought against it once before. And now it's coming for us. For the final time, whichever way this ends. I made a promise to do all in my power to keep the White City standing. I'm going to hold to my word. If you can't find someone to hold the city together, I'll do it."
Gandalf smiled softly, but triumphantly, "Then my thanks go out to the slayer for taking this charge. I could think of few more qualified. This was your home once before, Buffy. Make it so once again."
Pippin, uncomfortable at the direction the talk was taking, not liking the rather grim picture they were painting, nudged Gandalf's elbow, "Look," he said, pointing outwards towards the violently coloured horizon, "A storm is coming…."
Gandalf looked out and then met Buffy's level expression. Quietly, so as not to frighten the hobbit overmuch, he explained, "This is not the natural weather of the world. This is a device of Sauron's making. A broil of fume he sends ahead of his host to speed his advance. The orcs of Mordor have no love of daylight so he covers the face of the sun to ease their passage along the road to war. When the shadow of Mordor reaches this city, it will begin."
Pippin gulped, "Well, that is not good," he said, the faintest touch of hysteria in his voice, "Well… Minas Tirith… very impressive. So where are we off to next?"
Gandalf smiled slightly at the hobbit's words, "Oh, 'tis far, far too late for that Peregrin. There is no leaving this city. Help must come to us."
Buffy touched the wizard's arm and whispered lowly in his ear, "There is something I must do. I will find you later."
"Be careful Buffy," he said.
"I will be." she replied and then re-entered the citadel. Her feet swiftly carried her back to Denethor's hall, what should have been the king's hall. He was staring at the horn again, despair and his ever present resentment giving him no desire to try to save his own city. "Denethor," she greeted him, and her voice and expression were hard and merciless. "I watched you when you were only the heir and you disgusted me then, as well as now. You would let Minas Tirith rot before you ever lifted a hand in its defence. Well, I'm not having it. Aragorn made a promise to your son not to let this city fall. Well, I'm holding up his end of the bargain. You are not fit to rule, Denethor, and no matter how much you desire it, you will never be seen as king. I'm deposing you in the name of the King, on the grounds that you're absolutely incapable of discharging the duties of Steward. Your armies will be mine. Got that?"
"Sauron will skin you alive," Denethor said in reply, his thirst for revenge visible, "He will destroy everything in his path. Nothing can stop him now."
"The only thing that could accomplish that would be for good people to stand aside and do nothing." Buffy said quietly, "Like you are. But I'm not planning on letting that happen. And consider yourself warned, Denethor. You get in my way and I will take you out. Goodbye and good riddance."
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Buffy found Pippin and Gandalf in the bottom level, waiting with many others for desperately needed help to arrive into the city. All the way to and beyond the Rammas Echor rose dust from the last wagons to leave for the safer fiefdoms along the coast and the mountain villages and the vales of Tumladen and Lossarnach. Those carrying the last of the women and children, the old and the sick that would leave the city and they choked the roads with their numbers. Some remained behind out of choice or because they could not go. But they were few.
"How did your talks with Denethor go?" Gandalf asked when he saw her.
She did not bat an eyelid, "I informed him that I'm deposing him." she said calmly, "So when the man I want gets here, Denethor's getting booted out of here. Which means advantage us."
"Never one for subtlety are you?" Gandalf asked, smiling.
"In most cases, violence does the trick," Buffy said airily, "And it is my speciality after all. Besides when dealing with creeps like Denethor, subtlety is overrated. Now, who are we waiting on here? Do you know what numbers are already in the city?"
"Not enough," Gandalf replied, "Not nearly enough. The rangers of Ithilien under Captain Faramir hold Ithilien but not for much longer, I would wager. And the Captains of the Outlands are expected up the South Road ere sundown."
"You mean them?" Buffy asked, pointing into the distance.
Gandalf squinted and then looked at her balefully, even as Pippin hopped to try to see over the wall. All they could see were the rising clouds of dust from the multitude of horses, carts and people.
Some minutes after Buffy pointed out the new dust cloud, the murmurs began amongst the men gathered along the verge of the road, glad to see some help come at last. And then the horns sounded and the men gathered cheered as a group of men approached.
"Forlong! Forlong!" they shouted, causing Buffy to smile.
"More like Forlong the Fat," Buffy answered, "I remember him. Pudgy little kid. Cantankerous too. He's the Lord of Lossarnach now though," she added before Pippin could ask.
As Buffy and Gandalf watched critically, the line of men started to pass through the gate, led by an enormous man riding on a huge horse. Behind him came a proud line of dusty men, and to her relief, well-armed and carrying great battle axes that would have made Gimli proud.
The men of Gondor were overjoyed, cheering and praising them as they passed by them, "Forlong!" the men shouted, "True heart, true friend! Forlong!" But when the last man had passed, the mutterings turned sour, "So few!" they cried in dismay.
"So few! Only two hundreds!" one man cried, "We had hoped for ten times that number! That will be the new tidings of the black fleet. They are sparing only a tithe of their strength. Still, every little is a gain."
At the man's words, Buffy's eyes darkened. There was only one black fleet that assaulted Gondor. The Corsairs… Apparently, those damn pirates were back again. And draining badly needed strength from Gondor's capital. It really did not bode well. Still, she had to trust that Aragorn would take care of them. After all, if Aragorn could raise the army of the dead, then the Corsairs would be running scared. It was only a pity that she would not be there to see it. Scaring pirates was always fun.
As the afternoon wore on and Gandalf and Pippin left on business, or snooping as Buffy put it; Buffy made mental plans as more companies came and were hailed and cheered and passed through the Gate, men of the Outlands marching to defend the City of Gondor in a dark hour; but always too few, always less than hope looked for or need asked. Buffy did not like the feeling of despair that the men of Gondor seemed to have. With Boromir lost and Denethor despairing, and Faramir out defending Osgiliath, they had no one to look to for courage and leadership.
Still, she counted up all those who came… The men of Ringló Vale behind the son of their lord, Dervorin striding on foot; three hundreds. From the uplands of Morthond, the great Blackroot Vale, tall Duinhir with his sons, Duilin and Derufin, and five hundred bowmen. From the Anfalas, the Langstrand far away, a long line of men of many sorts, hunters and herdsmen and men of little villages, scantily equipped save for the household of Golasgil their lord. From Lamedon, a few grim hillmen without a captain. Fisher-folk of the Ethir, some hundred or more spared from the ships. Hirluin the Fair of the Green Hills from Pinnath Gelin with three hundreds of gallant green-clad men.
And last and most looked for, causing Buffy to perk up in glee, Imrahil, Prince of Dol Amroth, brother in law to Denethor, uncle to Boromir and Faramir, descendent of the elleth Mithrellas of Lórien, ruler of the sea haven of Dol Amroth. He came with bright gilded banners bearing his token of the Ship and the Silver Swan, and a company of knights in full harness riding proud grey horses; and behind them seven hundreds of men at arms, tall as lords, grey-eyed, dark-haired, and singing as they came.
Buffy looked at Imrahil and knew she had found her co-conspirator. The man who could help her wrench control away from Denethor once and for all.
But the tallies of men were not great. Only three thousand had come from all the provinces of Gondor. Sauron had sent ten thousand at Rohan through Saruman, how much more would he send against the capital of Gondor? When he knew that the king of men was on his way?
Due to losses and the need for the provinces to maintain their own defence, and poor recruiting for the army by Denethor throughout the years of his rule, they had perhaps ten thousand men. No more would come from Gondor now. No more could.
Ten thousand against an army that she feared to be ten times that number or more. As Gandalf had warned, Sauron would do anything to crush Minas Tirith before he would see the coming of the king. And Denethor would do nothing to even attempt to halt Sauron's advances. She owed it to Aragorn and Boromir to ensure that the city stood.
Whatever the cost.
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Heading back into the citadel to track down Imrahil of Dol Amroth, Buffy had to admit that she was not totally surprised when a group of guards tried to arrest her. Again.
"Great," she snapped in irritation, glaring balefully at the men blocking her path, "Haven't we been through this before? And didn't you lose? Now kindly get out of my way before I flatten you. Understood?"
Two guards grabbed hold of her arms and Buffy's eyes narrowed, "You'd better have a very good reason for doing that."
"You are under arrest for treason against the Steward of Gondor," the lead guard announced.
"Treason?" Buffy repeated incredulously, "Okay, that is so wrong. Because firstly, I'm not from Gondor so I don't answer to him. Two, I already showed him and you that I could kick your butts. And three, I'm here to help keep Sauron out of the city. Now you have got to the count of three to remove your hands from me gentlemen, or I make with the flattening. One…." The guards twitched and looked at their commander who shook his head. "Two…." They smartly reached for their weapons. "And three…." And then all the really smart ones took a step back. Buffy jerked out of the guards' hold and punched him in the face but then the second guard slapped her even as the others moved to contain her and then everything froze.
Everybody stopped what they were doing and the vast majority started shaking inwardly. The smarter people decided to get away as soon as possible. But everyone unconsciously took a few steps back as Mount Buffy let rip.
She punched him once and sent him flying into the fountain. Breathing heavily, she stared at the downed man and ground out, "If anyone touches me like that again, I will make sure they end up cleaning up horse manure for the rest of their life!"
Spinning, she stormed through the crowd of guards, all of whom wisely stepped out of her way, recognising the dangerous air around her. Storming into Denethor's halls and walking on a surprised steward and Imrahil, Buffy stalked up to the glowering steward and before Imrahil could do anything, picked him up by the neck, ruthlessly squeezing his airways until he gasped.
"What did you think that little stunt was going to accomplish, Denethor?" she hissed, glaring into his wide eyes, "What part of 'I'm here to help' did you not understand, you big oaf? Now, do something like that again, and I will have to toss you out a window at the very least. I guarantee you wouldn't like the results. They don't exactly have a great spinal injury unit in Gondor. And by the way, you have nearly destroyed this city with your inaction! And since you think war preparations beneath you, and I plan on doing them instead, I assure you, try to arrest me again and you will know such peril as I once before threatened you with!" Buffy said, and her voice was fell as she spoke, and no longer amiable did she seem, but some warrior maiden of old, and her eyes spoke of long years of wisdom that her unlined face did not show, "Interfere again, and I will throw you from the White Tower to your doom!"
Seeing the growing fear, she bashed him over the head with the hilt of her dagger and leaving him to slump to the floor, turned to Imrahil and smiled brightly, "I'm Buffy," she said cheerily, holding out her hand in greeting, "I'm taking over management of this city. Wanna help?"
Imrahil looked at her in bemusement, and stared at the unconscious steward. But he was of noble descent and the foresight of his forbears remained with him and he saw that she was noble and honourable. "I am Imrahil, my lady," he said, kissing her hand gallantly, "And if you truly wish to see Gondor put up a fight, I will help."
"You do realise that I could get into a of a lot of trouble doing this." he said warningly.
She smiled cheerfully, "Oh, definitely not as much as if you don't." she answered only mock jokingly.
He laughed slightly, "But do you see any hope that we shall stand?" he asked.
"There is always hope, Imrahil," Buffy said firmly, "And damn glad to have you on board. Those guards seem to have this strange habit of not listening to me."
Imrahil did not get a chance to reply as half a dozen counsellors entered the chamber without warning and coming to an abrupt halt, stared at the fallen form of the steward. Buffy greeted them with a chilly smile and said gleefully, "Sorry guys but I'm afraid that Denethor is a little…. indisposed. You'll be dealing with me and Imrahil here. You don't like that, I get to throw you in the dungeons. Got it?"
Naturally, the counsellors were horrified, "You cannot do that!" one pompous man cried, "We are needed! We have a strategy!"
"I already have a strategy," Buffy said warningly, "You're not in it. So get out of here!"
"But Prince Imrahil!" they cried in dismay, seeking some sanity in the midst of all this madness.
The prince of the swan-haven held up his hands in the universal gesture of peace, "I am sorry, counsellors," he said with no regret, "I think that you have to listen to her."
"But you cannot do that!" they sputtered, "You have to consider the traditional methods of doing things..."
"Consider them considered." Buffy said, "Now goodbye, gentlemen. Me and Imrahil here got a war to plan. And if you are in such a bother to find something to do, get Denethor out of here and fetch Gandalf."
Buffy swore that she had never seen such scandalised faces in her life.
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Buffy found Gandalf and Pippin ensconced in their quarters, watching as the darkness spread out from Mordor. Eventually it would turn the day prematurely to night.
The atmosphere was tense as she entered, Gandalf explaining to Pippin the extent of their problem. "There never was much hope, my boy... Just a fool's hope. Our Enemy is ready… His full strength gathered. Not only Orcs and wraiths, 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 hammer-stroke will fall the hardest. If the river is taken, if the garrison at Osgiliath falls, the last defence of this city will be gone."
"Osgiliath will fall," Buffy said, joining them at the balcony, "It's a given. How can they hold it against what's coming?"
Pippin looked between them, "But we have the White Wizard, and that has got to count for something. Does it not Gandalf?"
The wizard looked into the gathering dark, and his eyes were shadowed. "Not as much as you would think, Pippin," he answered after a moment, "Sauron has yet to release his deadliest servant…. The one who will lead Mordor's armies in war. The one they say no living Man can kill. The Witch-king of Angmar. You have met him before… He stabbed Frodo on Weathertop. He is the lord of the Nazgûl, the greatest of the Nine. And Minas Morgul is his lair."
Buffy's own expression grew grim at his words, "And from Minas Morgul an army shall come." she added, "From the ruins of a city they conquered before, will come an army to crush its twin. But he's not invincible, Gandalf." She looked at the wizard meaningfully, "He may be a Witch-king, but you've got your own witch."
The wizard looked at her wearily, "It may not be enough, Buffy. He may be expecting it."
"It's better than nothing," she replied, "After all, what's the worst he can do?"
As if in answer to her words, the ground shook under their feet and as they watched in horror, a large, bright pillar of eerie green light filled the sky, originating in Mordor. In Minas Morgul. The pillar cast an eerie green luminescence over everything, making many shrink with fear.
"Okay, maybe I shouldn't have said that." Buffy said, watching the light show in the sky.
Gandalf stared at it avidly, "And so it begins…" he murmured, "His army comes. The pieces are moving…."
"Way to be cheerful, Gandalf," Buffy said shakily, and then paled as a thought came to her, "Who is holding Osgiliath?"
"Captain Faramir and his garrison," Gandalf replied.
"Oooh boy," Buffy breathed and then turned to the wizard, "Gandalf, I've got to go to him. They have to be delayed at Osgiliath. Tell Imrahil to follow through with the plans we made."
Gandalf looked at her and then shook his head wryly, "Númenor would have been proud to have you, Buffy." he said fondly, "But heed my advice. Find the fire within you and let it consume the orcs that challenge you." he paused, not wanting to put undue pressure on her, "Dagnir, Osgiliath must hold."
She grabbed her cloak and tightened the belt of her sword, "It will not," she replied quietly, "But I will buy you what time I can. Namárië!"
And so, under the cover of the growing darkness, Buffy left the relative safety of Minas Tirith and headed for the battleground of Osgiliath.
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But while Buffy rode out to the aid of Faramir, Gandalf was busy working on his own agenda and he too, sought out Imrahil for the same reasons that Buffy had. Imrahil was noble, honourable, well-respected, and in a position of power.
And so, to help his own plans and to further Aragorn's, while he was conveying Buffy's message to the Prince, he decided to 'accidentally' let slip a titbit of information…
After all, what were wizards but supreme meddlers?
"And as you know, my lord," he said casually, "Lady Buffy has more right to do this than any here."
Imrahil looked puzzled, "What do you mean?"
Gandalf feigned surprise, "She did not tell you?" he said, "I am sorry, I thought you knew. Lady Buffy is not just a warrior of great renown, but the betrothed wife of Lord Aragorn, son of Arathorn, the Heir of Isildur."
Imrahil's eyes widened, "Isildur's heir?" he whispered in disbelief, "He comes?"
"He does," Gandalf said assuredly, "While he gathers all the aid he can for Gondor, Buffy has come to hold the city in any way she can. She is most amply qualified."
"His betrothed?" Imrahil asked, "But does that not mean that she is…"
"Your future queen if the battle is won?" Gandalf finished for him, "Aye. It does. Lady Buffy has the long-livedness of the Dúnedain and so she and Lord Aragorn have been betrothed for many a year now. And the time is nearly upon us for the return of the King."
Imrahil looked horrified, "Do you mean to tell me that you let the future queen of Gondor run off to Osgiliath without guard or escort or anything?"
Gandalf patted the man on the shoulder, "Let me tell you this as a friend, Imrahil," he said, "Buffy is a unique creature. When you know her better, you will learn."
"Why does that sound like I should be afraid?" Imrahil asked wryly, causing the wizard to chuckle.
"Too true, my friend," he agreed, "Too true."
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Later that day, Imrahil confronted his now awake liege.
Staring at the mess the man was in, and listening to his ranting, Imrahil shook his head at his law-brother, "I had been warned that you had fallen to madness but loath was I to believe it. Yet I look at you now and can deny its truth no longer. You are not fit to keep the title of Steward of Gondor; you are not fit to lead Gondor in this war. Indeed you seem fit for very little of anything, save giving in to bouts of despair and self pity that serve no purpose but to make the people doubt you."
Giving the man no chance to reply, he moved towards the door, "I know not what happened to you Denethor, but the demented creature that stands before me now is not my liege, merely a shell of a former Lord. And my allegiance to you ends. I pledge my loyalty to the king, in preparation for his arrival. Goodbye, Denethor."
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Osgiliath, Gondor, 3010 TA, March 14.
When Faramir and his men reached Osgiliath, it was evident that the attack was well under way.
Mardil was horrified, "Look!" he cried, pointing at the smoke rising, "The city burns!"
Faramir was expressionless, "Mordor has come…" he stated simply.
Though the city was under heavy siege, he knew that it had to be held. It was Minas Tirith's last defence before the Rammas Echor. And the only place they could delay a large host. The Pelennor was simply too large. Any gains had to be fought for here.
"We must try to retake the city," he ordered, "Spread out. Keep under the range of the arrows. We must get to Landran."
The route into the city was tough going, and the city itself was being bombarded by orcish catapults. Every so often, one of the old towers would crumble into pieces, raining debris and dust on top of them.
They dodged enemy fire, rocks and arrows, returning none of their own for the orcs were not yet within the city walls, but outside them and the longer it took for them to realise that reinforcements had come, the better chance the rangers had of surviving.
He found Landran holding the base in the middle of the city and never had he seen the lieutenant look so relieved to see him, "Faramir!" he called lowly, careful not to let any orcs hear, "Orcs have taken the eastern shore. They are coming in droves by boat. I am sorry but their numbers are too great. By nightfall we will be overrun."
Faramir pulled out a map of the city and was only just barely yanked back by Landran before a tower overhead crashed on top of him. "The city shakes," the lieutenant warned him as Madril set up the perimeter, "Be careful. They are aiming for the towers so that they can crush us amongst the rubble."
The barely perceptible sound of footsteps came to Faramir's ears and before the others could react, he had his bow notched at the figure that appeared in an archway.
The woman arched her brow, "Impressive," she said, "But I'm not the enemy so if you could please not shoot me?"
Faramir eyed her warily, even as his men started in surprise at the appearance of a woman, "Who are you?" he said, not lowering his bow an inch.
"A friend," the woman replied, "I was sent by Gandalf the Grey to find Faramir. Are you him?"
"I am," he replied, "But if you are a friend of Gandalf the Grey, tell me something less obvious about him. The days are dark and I cannot trust the spies of Sauron to be forthcoming about their allegiance."
"Well, if you know him at all, you know he likes to speak in cryptic, has a high regard for the Lady Galadriel and Lord Elrond and likes hobbits. But it's okay, I'm one of the Dúnedain."
"You? One of the Dúnedain?" Faramir asked incredulously.
Her face hardened, "I served under the Steward Ecthelion for a time. My name was Lieutenant Eliza back then. But I go by Buffy now."
Faramir blinked but something told him that she was not lying. "I think that you speak the truth. But why are you here?"
"To stop you from dying for a lost cause," she answered, moving forward, "The city is destroyed and overrun. If you fight them head on, you will lose most, if not all, of your men. Booby-trap it, Faramir, it is the only way."
"You want me to give up on Osgiliath." he stated.
She nodded, "I do," she replied, "For better or worse, you've got a part to play in this war and you can't do it if you are dead. Now, will you at least hear me out…?"
He studied her carefully for a moment, and then nodded, "I will listen…"
"Good." she said, "Because I think we can cause maximum damage if we just do this…"
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Edoras, Rohan, 3019 TA, March 14.
Seated on a small hill near the King's halls, Aragorn stared into the sky, smoking his pipe and thinking about the turns that his life was about to take. Gandalf had warned him to take the Paths of the Dead, the route through the mountains that the Rohirrim so feared. It was said that none who entered there ever came out again. Knowing what he did of the tale, Aragorn knew that it was probably true. He knew what Isildur's curse had sentenced the mountain people to.
After so many years of wandering across Middle Earth, disguising himself and his heritage, now the time had come for him to claim what everyone insisted was his. The throne of Gondor. Over the course of this journey, he had resigned himself to his fate. Gondor needed for its king to return. And he was the only one able to do it. It was a heavy burden and one that he would have to carry. But it would be so much easier to carry it if he was not alone.
Buffy… Nothing was ever easy with her… Ever since he had woken up to find her gone, gone to Gondor with Gandalf and Pippin, he had wondered as to her reasons. Why did she always have to run from him? And if running was what she had done, then why had she spoken such sweet lies that night? He had not thought her insincere, but even the bravest heart could quake when it came to matters of the heart. It was a puzzling and unsettling worry that nagged at him.
Sighing, he turned his head and spotted something bright in the distance. Blinking, he looked closer at it and gasped as he recognised that it was a beacon of Gondor. Gondor was sending out the signal for help. Throwing down his pipe, he raced towards Meduseld, nearly knocking people over in his haste and racing up the steps to the Golden Hall, he threw open the doors and flew inside. "The beacons of Minas Tirith!" he exclaimed as Éomer and Éowyn turned to stare at him, "The beacons are lit! Gondor calls for aid!"
Éomer nodded shortly, he had been expecting this. "Then Rohan will answer," he said simply. And then turned to Gamling and Elfhelm. "It is time to muster the Rohirrim," he ordered, not shaken in the least at the thought of his first battle as king, "Assemble the Men at Dunharrow, as many Men as can be found. You have two days. On the third, we ride for Gondor… and war. If Gondor falls, so do we. We shall honour the Oath of Eorl."
Aragorn nodded his thanks, "Gamling," Éomer said, "You discharged this office for my uncle and now I do the same for me. Make haste across the Riddermark. Summon every able-bodied man to Dunharrow. Erkenbrand's warriors are already there and the people of Edoras can stay there until tidings come, - good or ill. Éowyn shall lead them."
"But Éomer!" Éowyn cried in dismay, "I do not wish to be sent off with the children! Let me come with you! Did I not prove my valour at Helms Deep?"
"You did much more than that, sister," Éomer said gently, "But there are but two of our house left. Someone must lead our people and supervise the last defence if need be."
"And is that your command, my lord?" Éowyn said stiffly, glaring petulantly at her brother.
"It is Éowyn. Your people will have need of you." Éomer said, and then turned to Elfhelm, "Gather all the riders in the city. We leave at once. Before the walls of Minas Tirith, our doom shall be decided. I plan for it to be Sauron's doom! Go!"
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Twenty minutes later, Faramir followed Buffy's advice and arranged his rangers along the river.
From their position, they could see the orcs' boats approaching far more stealthily than they would ever have expected. Sauron had planned this well. And the threat of the Witch-king was enough to keep any orc in line.
Ever so quietly, the hood of her cloak up, Buffy crept forward, Faramir covering her back, and along the main road from the river, between two of the tallest remanding buildings in the city, she began pouring a thin trail of dark powder. Using it sparingly, she left a trail between the two buildings, and made sure to pour it near the foundations.
Slipping back beside Faramir, she lowered her hood, "It is done."
"What must we do?" he asked, "Their numbers are too great."
"Think of it this way," Buffy said quietly, sketching out her plans in the soft dirt, "They are expecting a fight. We are not going to give them the one they expect. We are going to be the bait. We station ourselves down this road and we wait for them to come to us. Once the majority are in range, I fire the lighted arrow and the road goes boom, taking the orcs with it. Trust me, Faramir, I have seen it work at Helms Deep. It blew a hole in the Deeping Wall for Eru's sake!"
"You had better hope this works," he said briskly and then turned to Madril and Landran, "We will wait for them at the end of the main road. Go quickly. It does not matter if they see you. They are meant to."
Dodging the hail of arrows that came at them as soon as they poked their heads up, they ran for it, Buffy soon outstripping the pack. As she dived behind a downed tower at the designated spot, she pulled out her bow and when Faramir arrived, he quickly set fire to an arrow and notched it to her bow.
With a triumphant roar, the first orcs touched down on the shore, waves of them pouring from the boats and into the streets. And upon hearing the overloud shouts of the men of Gondor as they pelted it down the road at full speed, they gave exultant chase, hungry for fresh meat.
It was a desire that disgusted Buffy but its sheer reliability gave her room to work with.
Aiming for the biggest clump of powder, she waited until the street was choked with orcs, even though the men's breathing was speeding up the closer the orcs got, before loosing the arrow.
It flew through the air with an accuracy that would have done Legolas proud, and landed right in the middle of her target. Even as she ducked, the ground shook as the Wizard's Fire ripped through the buildings, causing them to collapse on the crowd of stunned orcs. To enhance the effect, Buffy made sure to use Narya to give more range to the explosion. She did not know how it worked, but she trusted that Narya did and let the Ring do what it willed. It apparently did not like orcs either.
As soon as the major debris stopped falling on them, she grabbed Faramir, "We have to go!" she said urgently, "We have to get out of here. They'll find a way around it shortly!"
Madril seconded her immediately, "Faramir, we cannot hold them! The city is lost!"
Faramir nodded and looked between them, "Tell the Men to break cover. We ride for Minas Tirith."
A sudden high-pitched shriek sounded from overhead, driving some of the men to their knees and Buffy looked up in fear. "Oh no…." she breathed.
Faramir's own expression was a copy of hers, "Nazgûl!" he roared, throwing himself down as a Ringwraith on a winged monster circled overhead before flying down between the buildings, snatching up screaming men in its claws, ripping them to shreds before reaching for another.
Buffy grabbed Faramir, "Run!" she cried, dodging her way through the rubble, being careful to keep low.
Faramir gasped as he saw Madril fall to an orc arrow with a mortal wound, "Fall back!" he bellowed, "Fall back to Minas Tirith!"
Buffy made sure to stick close to Faramir as the men of Gondor raced to where the horses were kept, dodging the hail of arrows and rocks, and the orcs that were pouring through the city. Men fell, but they had no time to go back for them. They would all die if they could. All they could do was run.
At last, they broke out to the city walls, where the horses were saddled and they nearly fell upon them in their haste. Buffy leapt upon her horse and spun the stallion around even as Faramir leapt up onto his and urged the others to hurry up. "Quickly!" he shouted, "Retreat! Retreat!"
Osgiliath had fallen.
But even as they raced desperately towards the city, the sky was filled with the high pitched shrieks of the Nazgûl and they started to dart down between them, snatching men as they dived.
But what caused Buffy's blood to chill was not the Nazgûl, but the Black Captain. And as she looked above her, she saw the helmeted face, felt the powerful malice as it closed in on her.
The Witch-King had arrived….
And he was gunning for her….
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A/N: Well? Opinions please! Please READ and REVIEW!
Next chapter: Osgiliath is attacked… Rohan answers… plotting… brewing trouble… visitors from the north… and the key players for the freedom of Middle Earth follow their separate paths… wherever they might lead….
Elvish:
Elleth - she-Elf
Dagnir - slayer
Namárië - farewell
Dúnedain - Men of the West
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Caras Galadhon - City of the Trees. The city in Lothlórien where Galadriel and Celeborn reside.
Dol Amroth - the royalty of Dol Amroth are believed to have an Elven foremother in their line. Stronghold of Gondor on Belfalas, named after Amroth King of Lórien (deceased.).
Dol Guldur - 'Hill of Sorcery'. A treeless height in the south-west of Mirkwood, a stronghold of the Necromancer before he was revealed as Sauron returned. Houses three Nazgûl, led by Khamûl.
Dunharrow - Fortified refuge in the Ered Nimrais. It is the mountain refuge of the people of Rohan. And the entrance to the Paths of the Dead is there.
Eärendil - Elrond's father. Now sails the sky with a Silmaril. Can be seen as a star in Middle Earth.
Éoherë - term used by the Rohirrim for the full muster of their cavalry.
Henneth Annûn - 'Window of the Sunset'. name of a cave behind a waterfall in Ithilien.
House of Eorl - the House of the Kings of Rohan. Named after Eorl the Young who first settled in Rohan, and was their first leader.
Imrahil - Prince of Dol Amroth at the time of the War of the Ring. The line of the Princes of Dol Amroth is said to be of Elvish descent, a foremother being a Silvan Elf and a handmaiden of the Elleth Nimrodel of Lórien. Father of Lothíriel. Denethor's brother-in-law. Uncle to Faramir and Boromir.
Istari - the Maiar who were sent from Aman in the Third Age to resist Sauron. Sindarin: Ithryn.
Ithilien - territory of Gondor, east of Anduin. In the earliest time the possession of Isildur and ruled from Minas Ithil.
Khamûl - Ringwraith. Second only to the Witch-King. Also known as the 'Black Easterling'. Was perhaps the wraith with the strongest capability of thinking for himself but had the weakest powers during the day. In charge of Dol Guldur.
Lothíriel - daughter of Prince Imrahil of Dol Amroth, wife of King Éomer of Rohan and mother of Elfwine the Fair.
Meduseld - the Golden Hall of Edoras, in Rohan. The residence of the King and the court.
Morgul Vale - once housed a city of Gondor called Minas Ithil 'Tower of the Moon' but was overrun by Sauron before the Last Alliance. It is now a province of Mordor that houses the Ringwraiths that do not hold Dol Guldur in Mirkwood.
Narya - the Ring of Fire. Set with a ruby stone. One of the Three Elven Rings. Originally given to Círdan, it was passed onto Gandalf when he arrived in Middle Earth during the Third Age.
Nenya - The Elven ring of Water. Galadriel is its Keeper.
Númenor - Land of the Star. Translated 'Westland'. When Elros Half-Elven, Elrond's twin, chose to be of the Race of Men, the Valar granted him an island to rule over. It was prepared by the Valar as a dwelling place for the Edain after the First Age. Elros, granted a longer lifespan because of his Elven heritage, and the rest of the Edain who followed him were long lived as well, became Elros Tar-Minyatur, first King of Númenor.
Osgiliath - Was once the capital of Gondor. But during the War of the Kin-Strife (a rebellion during the time of kings around the 1430's.) it was laid siege to by the rebels and burned to ruins in 1437.
Palantír - one of the seven seeing stones that were scattered throughout Gondor and Arnor during the reign of Elendil. For the last few centuries, they have been considered unsafe to use as it is believed that one of them is in the possession of Sauron.
Pelennor fields - 'Fenced Land'. The 'town lands' of Minas Tirith. Guarded by the wall of Rammas Echor.
Rammas Echor - out-wall. For ten leagues or so it ran, from the mountains' feet and back again, enclosing in its fence the fields of the Pelennor.
Red Arrow - the 'war-arrow' sent from Gondor to Rohan as a token of the need in Minas Tirith.
Ring of Barahir - Heirloom of the House of Isildur.
The Citadel - the High Court. The Place of the Fountain beneath the feet of the White Tower.
Thorongil - 'eagle of the star'. Aragorn's alias when he served as an officer to Ecthelion II, Steward of Gondor and when he rode with the Rohirrim under King Thengel.
Vilya - the Ring of Air. Strongest of the three Elven Rings made by Celebrimbor. Borne by Elrond.
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