Rohan...
Merry sat dejectedly on the front stoop of Meduseld, thinking of Pippin no doubt. He looked up as my shadow fell over his short form, giving me a weak smile as the tears blurred his vision.
"Hey.', I murmured as I plopped down beside him.
We were silent for several minutes, staring in the direction Shadowfax had disappeared in. It had been two days since the horse had galloped out of the stables, bearing his two riders away on their three-day journey to Minas Tirith.
"How do you do it?"
"Huh?', I asked confusedly, jerking my head back to the matter at hand.
"How do you stay strong when those you love have gone?', Merry sniffled, wiping his runny nose on his sleeve.
"You hope for them to come back. And they will, Merry. You will see Pippin again, if your heart remains as stout as it has the past several months.', I comforted the curly headed hobbit.
"Strider once told Sam that a stout heart would not be enough to save him."
"Humph! What does he know?', I teased, watching as Aragorn raised an eyebrow in our direction. He had been sitting in the same position all day, puffing on his pipe. "Sometimes I think he acts like an old man."
"How old is old to you, Riley?"
"Oh, you know. Eighty-eight."
Aragorn choked on his pipe, hitting his fist against his chest as he sent me a glowering stare.
"Isn't that... specific?', Merry responded slowly, eyeing the still coughing ranger nervously.
"Maybe.', I smirked.
"You have the strangest way of changing the conversation.', Merry playfully huffed.
"Why thank you, Merry!"
"I doubt it was a compliment.', someone muttered.
"Well aren't you grumpy!', I shot back.
"I am an old man.', Aragorn grinned. "What do you expect?"
xXx
Two Days Later, in the Realm of Gondor...
xXx
"Perhaps you came to explain this."
Lord Denethor's stony expression and hard voice made an involuntary shiver run down Pippin's spine as the hobbit eyed Boromir's cloven horn, confusion evident on his small face.
"Perhaps you come to tell me why my son is dead."
"Boromir is alive and well, my lord."
"Do not take me for a fool, Mithrandir! My son would not so lightly toss away a family heirloom! You seek to give me hope where there is none."
"Lord Denethor your son is very much alive. As of now he is within the halls of Meduseld!', Gandalf's impatience with Gondor's steward leaked into his voice.
"Lies! Do you think the eyes of the White Tower are blind? My son would not ride with Théoden; his loyalties lie here."
"If you must be so stubborn as to believe that your son has passed beyond these shores, then so be it! But there is no time to mourn him now! War is upon you! Where are Gondor's armies? You still have friends. Light the beacons; send out the call for aid!"
"You think yourself wise, Mithrandir, yet for all your subtleties you have not wisdom. I know who truly rides with Théoden of Rohan. With your left hand you would use me as a shield against Mordor, and with your right you seek to supplant me. Oh yes... I have heard of thisranger.', the steward spat. "ThisAragorn. And I tell you now that I will not bow before this exile who has crept from the shadows of the North, the last of a ragged house long bereft of lordship!"
"Authority is not given to you to deny the return of the king, steward!', Gandalf snarled back.
"The rule of Gondor is mine, and no others!', Denethor shouted as he leapt from his seat, his nostrils flaring and the pulse in his neck ticking erratically with anger. "Go. Leave my sight."
"My lord—"
"Go! You have already cost me the life of my son!"
Pippin's eyes flew in-between the wizard and the steward, both who were glaring hatefully at each other.
"Boromir stood against many foes to defend my kinsman and me.', Pippin's declared, his voice shaking slightly but steadying as he continued. "I offer my service, such as it is, in payment of this debt."
"Get up!', Gandalf muttered as he prodded the halfling sharply with his staff. "There is no debt to speak of becauseBoromir is not dead!"
"No. But to Lord Denethor... he has lost his son nonetheless.', the hobbit's voice was so quiet that Gandalf was barely able to catch the words. The wizard shook his head in frustration and amazement at the hobbit's thought pattern, but whether it was foolishness or wisdom he could not say. He comforted himself with the thought that even if Boromir had died, it was not probable that his father would think twice about Pippin's rash action.
"I accept."
Denethor's frosty voice made Gandalf eye the steward shrewdly. The Gondorian's eyes glittered with something almost undefinable... but Gandalf knew exactly what it was.
The steward had accepted Pippin's offer out of spite. In the grey eyes of Denethor, something akin to a twisted sense of revenge shone. If Pippin was a guard, he would be expected to fight in the approaching war. And where war happens, death is always nearby.
xXx
Pippin eyed the small set of ornate armor that laid on the bed.
"So... I imagine this is a ceremonial position then? I mean, they don't actually expect me to fight... Do they?"
Gandalf's lip twitched as the hobbit's voice went from confused to slightly panicked.
"You're in the service of the steward now. You're going to have to do as you're told, Peregrin Took, Guard of the Citadel.', the white wizard scoffed in reply.
"Gandalf sounds like Riley when she's in a bad mood.', Pippin said to the ceiling.
"And how does Riley sound then?"
"Sarcastic.', the halfling replied before he realized that ceilings could not talk. Turning around, he made his way to the balcony to find the voice's source.
"It's so quiet.', he observed as he gazed over the white city, his chin resting on his hands which in turn were lying on the stone banister. The sun had already set but an eerie glow could be seen behind the border of mountains that surrounded Mordor.
"It's the deep breath before the plunge.', Gandalf voiced his sentiments wisely as he appeared behind the hobbit, his pipe in-between his lips.
"I don't want to be in a battle... but waiting on the edge of one I can't escape is even worse. Was there any hope, Gandalf? For Frodo and Sam?"
"There never was much hope, Peregrin. Only a fool's hope."
"Then it's a good thing I'm a Took!', he said with false cheeriness. "And if hope makes us fools... then we should all be fools. After all, we have the White Wizard on our side. That's got to count for something. Right? Gandalf?"
"Sauron has yet to release his most deadly servant: the Witch King of Angmar. You have met him before... it was he that stabbed Frodo on Weathertop. He is Lord of the Nazgul, greatest of the nine. Minas Morgul is his lair. He will be the one who leads Mordor's legions to war."
Pippin shuddered as he remembered the dark night on Amon Sûl.
"Our enemy is ready, his full strength has been gathered.', Gandalf continued. "Not only orcs, but men as well. This will be the end of Gondor as we know it; it is here that the hammer stroke will fall hardest. If the river is taken, if the garrison at Osgiliath falls, the last defense of this city will be gone. It has come: the greatest battle of our time. The board is set, the pieces are moving."
xXx
Gandalf woke the hobbit at dawn the next morning.
"Come Pippin. I have yet another task for you, another chance for the Shire folk to prove their great worth. Can you do this for me?"
The curly headed being gazed up at the steep rock face, shielding his eyes against the rising sun.
"I can."
"Good."
Almost an hour and a half later the shout arose and the wizard stumbled to his feet.
"The beacon! The beacon of Amon Dîn is lit!"
"Well done, my small friend.', Gandalf whispered. "Well done. Hope has been kindled."
xXx
Rohan...
xXx
I heard the loud stamp of boots as they met with the rock steps of Meduseld.
"Wait for it... Wait for it...', I hummed impatiently.
"Wait for what?', Gimli gruffly asked.
"Wait for it..."
"WAIT FOR WHAT?!"
Aragorn slammed the doors open.
"Boom! There it is!', I flourished my hand towards the ranger as he hurried into hall and neglected to close the heavy oaken doors behind him.
"The beacons!', Aragorn shouted, skidding to a halt before the table where the king was planning out battle strategies with his councilors. "The beacons are lit! Gondor calls for aid."
Time seemed to freeze. The past few days had been tense with trepidation, and the moment everyone had been waiting for was finally here.
Boromir gazed at Théoden, something comparable to defiance in his stance. I knew that if Théoden refused to ride to the aid of Gondor, he would do everything to change the monarch's mind. The steward's son was itching to return to Gondor, and I had a feeling that he became twitchy enough he would throw Gandalf's council to the wind and ride hard for his home.
The court waited with baited breath for their ruler's decision. Boromir's eyes briefly sought the king's, and Théoden met his look with one of proud understanding.
"And Rohan will answer! Muster the Rohirrim!', the answer came in the form of Théoden's deep voice, with no doubt to be heard in his tone.
A ripple of relief seemed to make its way through the room.
Éomer bowed in submission to his orders, giving his sister a firm hug before he left the room to ready himself.
xXx
Gondor...
xXx
"What were you thinking Peregrin Took? What service can a hobbit, of all creatures, offer such a great lord of men?"
The hobbit was once more talking to the ceiling, dangling his hairy feet off of the decorative bench he sat on in the empty hallway as he waited to be escorted to the throne room.
"Pardon me, Master Hobbit, but why are you talking to the ceiling?"
He turned his head to give Faramir, the man he had met only yesterday, a sheepish smile.
"It's a habit I picked up from a dear friend. She often stares at the ceiling, even talks to it when she thinks no one is looking. I caught her at it several times in Rivendell. In Rohan, too."
"And this 'dear friend'? Your betrothed, perhaps?"
"Noooo...', Pippin flushed brightly at the outrageous idea. "Riley's an elf. I'm not betrothed— yet anyway. But there was this one hobbit in Long Cleeve... I danced with her four or five times at the harvest festival, you know. Her name was Diamond... her eyes sparkle like her namesake.', he added dreamily.
Pippin gave a pensive sigh of remembrance before realizing that he had uttered those thoughts out loud. The halfling's blush deepened and he suddenly found his new armor to be quite interesting.
"I—', he swallowed nervously. "I didn't think they would be able to find any livery to fit me."
"Ah. It once belonged to a boy from the city. A foolish boy he was too. He spent more time slaying dragons then he did on his studies.', Faramir murmured seriously, though his lips quivered slightly at the humorous situation.
"This was yours?"
"Aye. My father had it made for me when I was a small lad."
"I'm taller then you, then.', Pippin beamed, happy at the abrupt change of conversation. "Though, I don't think I'll grow anymore. Except for sideways, of course."
"Oh yes. There is always that.', Faramir deadpanned before breaking into chuckles, the halfling quickly joining him in his mirth.
"It never fitted me either. Boromir was always the soldier. I suppose he is still a soldier, though my father refuses to acknowledge that he still lives. He and Boromir are alike in that instance. They are both proud— stubborn even. Even to the point where they may refuse to believe in hope. But they are strong. Very strong."
"I think you have strength, too. It's just of a different kind. And one day I think your father will see it."
Faramir gave a mournful smile before clapping the side of Pippin's shoulder.
"Your generous deeds should not be checked with cold council. You are to join the Tower Guard, are you not? And I am to take you to my father to recite your vows. Speaking of which, I suppose you have them memorized by now?"
"I do."
"Very well. I will take you to the throne room now, Master Hobbit."
He dropped off of the bench and hastily followed the man to stand before Denethor.
And so it came to be that the day after the beacons had been lit he recited the oath of the Tower Guard.
xXx
"Here do I swear fealty and service to Gondor, in peace or war, in living or dying, from this hour henceforth forth until my lord release me, or death take me."
Pippin was nervous, and it showed when he stumbled over the last part of the avowal.
"And I will not forget it.', Denethor regally responded as he stood and held out his ring for Pippin to kiss. The hobbit stared at it for a moment before realizing what was expected of him.
"Nor shall I fail to reward that which is given. Fealty with love, valor with honor, and disloyalty with vengeance." The steward sent a meaningful glance in his youngest son's direction. Faramir's eyes were slowly filling with tears as Denethor spoke of sending him to Osgiliath... of sending him to his death.
The meeting steadily went from uncomfortable to terrible. Faramir walked sadly out of the room, resigned to the fact that his father still believed Boromir to be dead and that he would most likely be so after he carried out his father's wishes.
xXx
"Faramir! Faramir! Your father's will has turned to madness! Do not toss away your life so rashly!" Gandalf pushed through the gathered crowd, all of who were aware that this endeavor meant certain death.
"Where does my allegiance lie if not here?"
"Your allegiance lies with Boromir, also. And if he were here he would tell you—"
"He is not here, Mithrandir. And that is the reason my father has gone mad. But if I can take back Osgiliath I can ensure that Boromir will pass safely through Gondor on his way home. Then my father will regain his strength of mind."
"No, Faramir. This is suicide. You are not only risking your life, but the lives of your soldiers. It is folly!"
"Folly it may be, but they realize the risks, and they are willing to make the sacrifice."
"And what of their families? How many more will suffer because their husbands and fathers die in a useless attempt to reclaim what has already been lost?"
"My men are those who are unmarried. It has been taken care of, Mithrandir."
"Taken care of!', the wizard scoffed. "Taken care of indeed!"
He watched helplessly as Faramir and his troupe of soldiers left for their impossible mission.
"He tries hopelessly to gain the love of his father.', Gandalf sighed sadly as he watched them ride out of the city gates. "And I suppose he is acting out of love for Denethor... Perhaps this was meant to happen. Perhaps this will help to change the fortunes of the war. Though it may seem like a lost cause... Stubborn stewards and their sons!
xXx
Rohan...
xXx
So the Rohirrim have been mustard. Hang on... Is it mustard or mustered? Or maybe mustached? Gah! Shut up, you stupid, stupid brain!
I was obviously sleep deprived as I stared into the bowl of... oatmeal? Whatever it was, it was a sickly beige color and was being served for an early breakfast. Aragorn and Legolas sat across from me eating their own fare, while our other friends were drifting about the encampment that had been set up last night.
"Our little Sunbeam doesn't look very cheerful, does she?"
I shook my head, trying to get the oh-so-familiar voices out of my mind.
Huh. Voices in my head. I should really get that checked out.
"Of course not! Our poorgwathelis eating mortal food! How could she be happy when the only food she eats looks like pig slop!"
Hmm... the funny little voices say that it's pig slop. I sure hope Éowyn didn't cook it. That would be worse than pig slop.
"Should we cheer her up?"
"And how would we do that?"
I was suddenly picked up and merrily whirled around by a pair of strong arms before being passed to someone else. I was so surprised that I probably screamed loud enough for every elf on Middle Earth to clutch their ears. In any case, I apparently made racket enough for the dwarf in our company to come barreling to the scene.
"Put the lass down!', I heard Gimli growl deeply. Aragorn and Legolas were roaring with laughter, but at what I could not be sure as I currently had my eyes screwed shut.
"Put her down? Now why on Arda would we do that?"
Riley you idiot! You know who these two jokers are!
"Because my axe will find itself in your throat otherwise."
"I am wounded, Rielásse! We love and care for you and you forget us within a few months! And if that wasn't enough, you won't call off your dwarf when he threatens to mortally wound us!"
"Darn it. And I thought I had finally gotten rid of you." I slowly opened my eyes to look into the grinning faces of my twin brothers.
"We all know you missed us!', Elladan chirped back cheekily. My only response was to wiggle around and roll my eyes.
"Yes, I missed you like someone misses an arrow wound. And I can personally say that those aren't enjoyable. Can you put me down now?"
"Nay,penneth! You must find a way to get down yourself, as a punishment for not calling off the dwarf.', Elrohir teased.
"Um... Gimli?', I called. "Could you... I don't know... Lower your axe so these two meatballs will put me down!?"
"Do you know these elves?', Gimli asked suspiciously, eyeing the dark-haired twins as they smirked.
"They're my brothers.', I huffed irritably.
"Pickle farts.', he muttered as he put his weapon away and walked off.
I choked on my laughter.
"Did— did he just say...?', I spluttered.
"Your strange language seems to have gotten to Gimli's head.', Legolas chuckled as the dwarf stomped off to find someone to fight with who wasn't 'related to the Golden Lady' as he put it.
"Can you put me down now?', I squirmed.
"I think we will hold you a little bit longer!', Elladan laughed as his arms tightened around my waist, holding me captive. "We have not seen you in months!"
"When did you arrive?"
"At dawn this morning, but you were still asleep so we did not bother you."
"What Elrohir means to say, is that they wanted to see you as soon as they arrived, but Aragorn would not let them anywhere near you.', Legolas corrected, the humor showing on his face.
I twisted around for a few minutes until I finally got one hand free.
"What are you doing?', Elrohir inquired nervously as he watched me lick my finger.
I ignored his question and answered it with an action.
Two identical yells were heard throughout the camp that morning and by lunch time the twins were still rubbing their ears. My tactic for escaping the twins' clutches had been elementary. But hey! It worked!
"What was that?', Legolas whispered, snickering as Elrohir glared at me again.
"Wet willy.', I chortled.
"What does it feel like?"
"I will show you what it feels like!', Elladan offered with a slight growl.
"Nay!', the Mirkwood elf sniggered in reply. "I would not want to feel the sensation you have described for all of the mithril in the world!"
I opened my mouth to say something when I saw Éowyn making her way towards us with a small kettle and several bowls. Legolas must have seen my panicked face because he quickly looked in the same direction.
"What is it?"
"Quick!', I hissed. "Pull out the lembas and act like we're eating it!"
"Why?"
"You did not live through battles just to die of food poisoning! You can thank me later!"
The shieldmaiden arrived before us seconds after we had unwrapped the golden bread.
"Can I offer you some stew?"
"Thank you Éowyn, but I'm afraid that we are already full from the elvish waybread.', I smiled sweetly, hoping she didn't see the edginess in my expression.
She nodded and turned to walk off when Elladan's eyes began to twinkle.
Uh-oh.
"I beg your pardon for interrupting, my lady, but I do not believe Lord Aragorn has had an sustenance yet. Perhaps he would like some of your... stew?"
The er... concoction looked too questionable to be called stew.
"Of course!', she answered giddily, her face brightening.
"You two are pure evil!', I laughed as she walked away. "And Legolas? When did I say you could thank me?"
"Later.', he mumbled.
"Legolas?"
"Yes, Riley?"
"It's later."