The Stranger in Middle Earth

I do not own the rights to Lord of the Rings

Chapter Sixteen

Destiny Ahead

The city had been devastated. Nearly all the buildings on the first level had been burned to the ground along with everything in them. The upper levels were mostly intact but a few were damaged. Some of the damage included windows shattering from the explosion. It would take a long time to fully repair Minas Tirith.

It was near mid day two days after the battle ended. I, my cousins and the Council were in my uncles chambers. He had been given a modest apartment in Minas Tirith on the sixth level of the city. It was next door to the apartment Gandalf had been given. My uncles apartment had a living room, bedroom, kitchen and a balcony which overlooked the city. The Council was sitting around a large circular table in the living room while Rickard and I sat a little way back in comfortable arm chairs. Although we weren't members of the Council my uncle insisted on us being there. There was also a new member of the Council present, Edmund. He was a good businessman so my uncle appointed him Treasurer. I noticed that Edmund had his recently acquired scimitar hanging from his belt. Standing next to the door was a servant and a Healer.

'Do we agree to continue fighting in this war until the very end?' my uncle asked the Council.

My uncle, I had not seen him so weak before. He did all he could to look strong for the Council and the Company but his eyes gave him away. They were so tired from all his years of fighting. He needed rest but he wouldn't let himself rest. He didn't even let his greatest injury slow him down. In the meeting he had not even mentioned his arm to anyone.

'So much blood has been spilt,' Father Harold lamented. 'We cannot let them die in vain.'

'I agree with the Priest,' said Jason as he drank some wine. 'Good wine this,' he said as he studied the crimson drink.

'Does anyone else have anything to say on the matter?' my uncle asked the Council. They all shook their heads so my uncle moved onto the next matter. 'For our dead in the battle I propose that we purchase a monument for them which is more significant than the wooden cross that is there for now.'

'What's wrong with the wood one?' asked Jason.

'It was only meant as a temporary measure,' said Robert.

'I propose that we arrange a stone cross to be erected there. Edmund has researched the cost.'

'Judging by the amount that stone is costs at the moment in Gondor I believe that we can buy the monument for a pound,' he said as he studied a book in front of him filled with calculations. Perched on his nose was a pair of spectacles.

'All in favour?' my uncle asked and they unanimously agreed.

'What is else is there?' asked Robert.

'That is all for now unless anyone has anything they want mentioned.'

When no one answered him my uncle was about to declare the meeting over when someone knocked at the door.

'Let them in,' my uncle told the servant.

She opened the door and I saw Pippin there. He was dressed in his uniform and was smiling a little.

'Aragorn sent me,' he said to the servant in a cheerful voice.

'Let him in,' my uncle instructed.

Pippin walked into the room and stopped next to my uncle.

'Aragorn wants to speak with the Council about something important.'

'And what is this important thing?' asked Robert.

'He wouldn't say but he told me to fetch you.'

'Very well. Where does he want to see us?'

'In the Citadel. The throne room.'

'Tell him we'll be there as soon as we can.'

'I will sir.'

With that Pippin left the room quickly.

'We better get going,' my uncle said as he tried to stand up and grunted, a pained look coming to his face. 'Markus, Rickard, help me up.'

His two sons both helped him stand up. Not only was his arm wounded but his right leg was cracked in a few places. It made it painful to walk on and he had to use a walking stick. When he was properly standing with his stick he started walking towards the door with the rest of us following him.

As our group walked through towards the Citadel some passing soldiers waved at my uncle while a few just stared at him. When this happened my uncle tried to make himself look stronger. The people of the city looked to him with great respect. Eventually we walked into the citadel and I, like the rest of the Council were amazed by what we saw. We had never seen the citadel yet so it impressed us. As we walked by the White tree I noticed a few flowers starting to grow on it.

When we entered the Tower of Ecthelion we saw a group already leaving. Eomer, Gimli, Legolas, Merry and Pippin. When the Council entered the Tower we were greeted by Aragorn who was standing next to a stone column. He looked as bedraggled and weary as he always had been but there was also a look of responsibility in his eyes. Standing next to him was Gandalf.

'Welcome,' Aragorn said to the Council. 'Thank you for coming.'

'It was no problem Aragorn,' my uncle told him. 'Might I ask what Faramir's condition is? I understand he was wounded in my rescue.'

'He is recovering,' Aragorn answered him. 'The Healers will discharge him from the Houses of Healing in the next few days.'

'Excellent. I understand that Lady Eowyn was injured defeating the Witch King. What of her?'

'The same,' he answered. 'She is lucky to be alive now. Eomer will send a rider to Edoras tomorrow morning to tell Edoras where she is.'

Excuse me but why did you wish to see us?' Robert asked him.

'I needed to speak with you for a few reasons. Firstly, we feel that it is time for you to learn how we plan to win the war.'

'About time,' Jason commented.

After that Gandalf explained what happened after the One Ring was given to Bilbo Baggins. We learned of Frodo Baggins who volunteered to carry the Ring to Mordor and of the Fellowship of the Ring. We also learned of the Breaking of the Fellowship and how Frodo, with his friend Sam, were travelling into Mordor alone to throw the Ring into Mount Doom, the one place it could be destroyed.

'Let me see if I heard that right,' said Jason. 'Our only hope of winning this war is two Hobbits. They are now going into the middle of the Sauron's land, alone, that's filled with Christ knows how many Orcs and other beasts, to climb up a mountain and throw the Ring into it without being caught. Is that right?'

'Yes,' answered Gandalf.

Jason rolled his eyes shook his head.

'I'm going to jump off a cliff,' he said and then turned to leave but Robert stopped him.

'I know there isn't much hope,' Gandalf told him, 'but we need to believe in Frodo.'

'What do we know about Frodo now?' my uncle asked the wizard.

'Unfortunately he has passed beyond my sight.'

'Did Frodo know that he was going on a suicide mission?' I snapped at Gandalf.

'No. Hobbits are a gentle folk. They have seen so little of the suffering in the world.'

'I do not doubt the courage of Hobbits,' my uncle began, 'but they do not stand a chance.'

'Which is why we will give them a chance,' said Aragorn. 'We will draw out Sauron's armies, empty his lands by marching on the Black Gates emptying his lands of Orcs. He will focus on the army facing him so perhaps he won't see two Hobbits walking towards Mount Doom.'

'It's risky,' Robert commented. 'It's a gamble.'

'I have no right to ask this of you,' Aragorn began, 'but I do ask. Will you help us? Will you join us in our march on Mordor?'

None of the Council said a word. Instead they looked at my uncle.

'Not long ago we agreed to keep fighting in this war until the end. The English Company will be proud to fight. I only wish I could go with them.'

'Thank you James. You have sacrificed so much already for Gondor in this war. You will be rewarded with lands in Gondor, but there is another duty I ask of you James. Faramir is the rightful Steward of Gondor but his injuries leave him in the Houses of Healing. I am asking you to govern this city while I am gone or until Faramir has healed enough to leave the Houses. Will you do this for me?'

'I will,' my uncle answered at once. 'When will the army leave for the Black Gate?'

'Tomorrow,' Aragorn answered. 'And it will be led by the King of Gondor.'

For a few seconds I was confused. Gondor didn't have a king. Then I realized who he meant. He meant himself. He was the King of Gondor. A king would once again sit on the throne of Gondor. The rest of the Council also realized what he meant. Gondor would have a king.

'Go and prepare for the battle to come. We leave by midday tomorrow.'

We left the Citadel and, while the rest of the Council went down to our camp outside the city, my uncle, cousins and I went back to my uncle's apartment. We sat down in some arm chairs while the servant presented each of us with a glass of wine.

'Jason was right,' Rickard commented. 'This is a good wine.'

'I needed to speak with you all in private,' my uncle said and then looked at the Healer and servant. Understanding what he meant they both left the apartment. 'I am proud of you all. I truly am. I pray that you will survive the battle to come and I wish I could join you there.'

'You have a much greater responsibility,' Markus reminded him. 'You helped lead this city to victory.'

'And how many lives were the price of our victory?' he asked us all. 'When I usurped Denethor all of those men were my responsibility and each death was a failure for me.'

'Don't say that,' I told him. 'Each of those men knew what they were fighting for.'

'Did they?' he asked me as he slumped in his chair, his years suddenly showing on his face. 'I ordered conscription. So many were just boys who hadn't learned to live and had never held a sword. I wonder if it was worth it. I have decided to write a letter to each of the dead soldier's families. It is all I can do.'

'Father,' Rickard said to him, 'you can always regret, but you have to live.'

A chuckle escaped the old man's lips and he smiled.

'Oh, the number of times your mother said that to me.'

'Can you blame her?'

'No. Remember, that as soon as we can we will ride north to Erebor and you will meet your grandfather. Now go. You have a long journey ahead of you and a hard battle which you will win.'

Rickard and Markus got up and left the room but I stayed behind.

'Is something wrong John?' he asked me.

'No uncle. I just wondered if I could use some paper and inc.'

'Of course you can. Might I ask why?'

'I wanted to send a letter to a friend in Edoras,' I answered him.

'Would this friend be the young lady you kissed while in a drunken stupor?' he asked and I felt my cheeks turn a shade of red.

'Yes her.'

'You'll find the inc, pen and paper in that cupboard,' he told me and pointed at a cupboard on a nearby wall.

I took a sheet of paper, a bottle of ink and a quill and sat at the Council table to start writing. It didn't take me long to write it but I think it was good enough.

Sunniva

I hope that you receive this letter. I survived the battle at Minas Tirith but by the time you read this I will have already marched to battle again. The battle I am about to fight will be a hard one but, God willing, I will survive it. If I do I will try to see you again as soon as I can and I will write another letter to you. I miss you greatly and I pray that God will keep you and your brother safe. Goodbye.

John.

When I finished the letter I sealed it with wax and then gave it to Eomer. He said he would send it to Edoras with his message about Eowyn.

After that I journeyed down to our camp outside the city walls. We were camped next to where we buried our dead. As I made my way past the wooden cross that stood there I found Father Harold comforting one of the few remaining men-at-arms.

'They have both gone to a better place my son. They will never have to fear war or death again,' he said to the man who was crying.

'I hope so,' I sobbed and then walked away.

Father Harold shook his head and sighed.

'Poor man,' he said when he saw me walking to him.

'Who did he loose?'

'That man's name is Mathew Fendrel. Both of his brothers were killed battling the Black Serpents Bodyguards.'

'Damn. Do you think it's worth it in the end?'

'I think that this world and our world would be a better place if there was no war,' he answered. 'Hopefully the next battle will end it all.'

'I certainly hope I won't have to fight again for a while. Do you think God wanted us to die here?'

'I think we came here for a reason. I was speaking with Gandalf yesterday and he spoke of your grandfather. From what he said I think that he took part in something important just like we are.'

'So you think we were sent here for that. Something important?'

'Perhaps. All will be revealed in time to us John.'

'I feel like my life has never been so important Father. I know it sounds strange but I've only felt like this a few times. The day I became a knight, my sword was blessed by our local priest. My uncle was there and my cousins cheered when I was knighted.'

'Keep a hold of those happy memories. They will guide you through this war.'

'Inspiration words Father.'

'A friend said it to me when he was drunk,' he said with a little smile.

I couldn't help laughing.

'I'm not joking John. The fool thought that the communion wine was spoiled so he decided to check it.'

'Thank you for your kind words Father. I'm going to get some food with my cousins. Bye Father.'

'Goodbye John.'

As I walked through the small camp my mind drifted to the next battle coming at us. I wondered how many would die.

Before we left Minas Tirith the next morning the Council of England met one last time. I will not record the discussion here as I was not present at the meeting. I will however tell you what the Council agreed upon. It was agreed that the remaining men-at-arms, (Jason Bridge, Edmund Howard (the merchant), Mathew Fendrel and Jack Clark) were to be knighted before the battle. The reason for this was to change the English Company into a new force; The Order of English Knights. It was agreed that if we won the battle the Council would request permission from Aragorn to establish an order of knights which followed our Code of Chivalry. It was also decided that, if we won the battle, we would establish the Catholic Church and Christian faith in Middle Earth. Father Harold would help create a constitution for this church but they agreed to remain as close to our traditional faith as possible. That said it appeared that he would be the chief cleric of our church in Middle Earth, more than likely a Bishop. The final agreement made by the Council was to build a church inside Minas Tirith after the battle was won.

I remember the day we marched out of Minas Tirith as if it was yesterday. Before we left my uncle spoke with my cousins and I.

'Rickard, Markus, John. I wish I could join you in the battle to come. Promise me you will be safe.'

'We will.'

'Of course.'

'I'll try.'

'If you don't return I may be a broken man. May God protect you Rickard, may He be with you Markus and may He guide you John.'

'He will,' I told him.

We shed no tears at the farewell. We smiled, hugged and he wished us luck again before we had to join the army. Our force numbered just over six thousand men. Roughly half were of Rohan and half were of Gondor. Those who had horses rode them but most of the men marched. It was an incredible feeling, riding out in one long column towards the Black Gates. At the head of the column was Aragorn. No longer wearing the rough garb of a ranger but the plate and surcoat of a king.

AN: Well I hoped you enjoyed that one.

Review Response Time:

ATP-Well I hope the Council's decision on the future of the Company will answer your question on Father Harold becoming a Priest. Again, thanks for the review.

Kiya-I'm glad you enjoyed the last chapter. As to that typo, oops. For the record I tried writing a death scene for Denethor at least FIVE times before I gave up. The full future of the English Company and of John Harris will be revealed at the end of this story. That said, I have a fanfic that I need to do after this one ends. All will be revealed in time :)

See you next week.