To Whatever End: Chapter Nine
-Erin-
The gentle breeze and the warmth of the sun brought a smile to my face as I walked through a beautiful garden area behind the citadel, just outside the catacombs. I'd stumbled across it entirely on accident while wandering the seventh level, and had since become quickly immersed in the small, but beautiful space. The grass grew lush and green beneath my bare feet, a welcome change from cold stone as I moved in silence, observing and enjoying the scenery. Dozens of different flowers, bushes, and small trees filled the gardens, with simple cobblestone pathways cutting and winding through the greenery. A fountain here, a statue there... it was quite lovely, really. Everything was meticulously groomed and well-kept; not a leaf out of place. It almost felt surreal, the perfection of it all, but I still enjoyed it regardless. The gardens were a bright, vibrant spot of color amidst the otherwise grim, sullen city.
I closed my eyes for a moment, humming contently as I soaked in the atmosphere. The past few days had been so much brighter, like I'd sucked in a breath of fresh air after months of drowning in my own subconscious. I'd been invigorated with a fresh hope for the future, and it was all because of my dream. At first, I'd been shaken, and it had taken me almost a full day to process what I'd seen, but now I knew. I was convinced. Somehow, I'd seen into my own future, and I'd seen my son. Thalion. The name had been incessantly ringing in my mind, bringing with it a peace I'd thought I'd never acquire again until now. It meant I had a future here. I had a purpose. I was going to be okay. And that reassurance had burned bright and hot in my chest ever since I'd woken up, pushing me along through my days in Minas Tirith. For once, things seemed like they were actually starting to look up.
As I relished in my newfound optimism, I rounded a bend in the path, stopping for a moment when I looked up to see a familiar face just across the small clearing. I turned to walk around the sparkling marble fountain in the center of the grassy circle, smiling as I approached. "Captain Faramir."
His head lifted from where it'd previously been buried in a book, setting it aside and giving a respectful nod as I came forward. "Lady Erin. I had not expected to find you here."
"Same to you," I countered, glancing around as I stopped beside the bench Faramir currently sat on. "I had no idea these gardens were back here. They're beautiful."
"That they are," Faramir agreed, "though I often feel I'm the only one who makes any use of them."
"Well, that might change, as long as I'm in this city," I chuckled, glancing down at his discarded book. "I hope I'm not interrupting anything important for you."
He shook his head. "Not at all." A brief pause, and then he spoke again. "In truth, I'd hoped to find you again soon so we might have a better introduction, seeing as our first meeting was cut abruptly short.
"I'd hoped the same," I echoed. "But it's no problem, really. I knew you and Gandalf had important things to discuss, so I wasn't bothered by it." My gaze flicked to the empty space beside Faramir before back to him in question. "May I?"
"Yes, of course," he nodded, and I smiled again as he shifted over to allow me room to sit. "I take it you're a friend of Gandalf's?"
I couldn't help but snicker. "Something like that. We've been... traveling companions for quite some time."
I noticed his brow lift ever so slightly at my vague answer, but he nodded politely all the same. "But you are not from Minas Tirith."
"No." I looked at him with a smirk. "What gave it away, my horrifically foreign accent?"
He chuckled, the formal air dissipating slightly with my joke. "Only partially. You seemed familiar with both him and the Halfling." Then the curiosity returned to his gaze. "But where are you from, my lady? I don't believe I've ever heard another speak as you do before."
I kept a neutral expression despite internally berating myself. Six years in Middle-Earth and you still sound painfully American. Way to go, Erin. "The Fornost area," I answered smoothly. "Though I'll admit, I haven't been back there for quite awhile. I've been traveling, mostly."
"Where were you before you came to Minas Tirith?"
"Edoras," I answered. "I rode here with Gandalf and Pippin. We were traveling with several others as well, but they're all still back in Rohan."
At that, his gaze fixed on me intently, suddenly much more interested in what I was saying. "Edoras?"
"Yeah!" It was then I remembered one of the main things I'd wanted to talk with him about, and I snapped my fingers as it struck me. "Actually, I think you know one of my friends I was traveling with - Kathryn! She told me she came to see you in Ithilien not too long ago."
As soon as I said her name, Faramir's eyes widened in shock. "You are a friend of Kathryn's?"
I grinned. "Yeah, absolutely! We've been best friends for years!"
Faramir smiled for a moment, awed by the revelation, though he soon sobered again as he started to piece together other connections in his mind. "Then you are another one of the eleven," he realized. "The company who set out from Rivendell."
I nodded. "I am."
But now Faramir had turned away, his gaze distant as it fell to the ground. "...You knew my brother."
The smile fell from my face as well, and I nodded, also looking down. "I did." There was a stretch of silence, and for a second, I wasn't entirely sure what to say. "...I'm sorry for what happened," I said quietly. "I don't know how much you know, but... I'm sorry." Another pause. "...He was a good man."
"Kathryn told me everything." I looked up again as Faramir spoke, still staring at his feet. "When she came to Ithilien, she said Boromir had sent her to warn me to let the Halflings go. At first I did not believe her, but then..." He trailed off for a moment, shaking his head. "...She told me everything," he said again. "How the Ring had corrupted Boromir, how it had corrupted her, and driven her to do horrible things..." Suddenly, he stopped short, eyes widening again and mouth slightly agape as he turned back to me. "It was you, wasn't it?" he whispered, stunned as it slowly dawned on him. "You are the one Kathryn nearly killed."
I stiffened, swallowing uncomfortably as terrifying flashbacks resurfaced in my mind. "...Yes. That was me." Kathryn never mentioned going into that much detail with him.
Faramir only stared at me for a moment in disbelief, a deep pity in his eyes. "I cannot imagine what that must've been like..."
I shrugged. "I mean, it was... horrifying, to be sure, but..." I closed my eyes for a second, shaking my head. "It wasn't Kathryn. I know that. It was the Ring's doing, not hers."
Faramir nodded, glancing out to the east with a stony expression. "I do not regret my decision to send it away with Frodo and Sam. I shudder to think what it might've done had it reached the hands of my father." But then he looked back to me, his face softening slightly. "When did you last see Kathryn?"
"About a month or so ago, when I left Edoras," I replied. Now it was my turn to become slightly distant as I thought of her and Kaia and realized how long I'd been gone. Damn. I miss them.
"...Is she well?"
I blinked, surprised by the question as I looked back to Faramir. "Yeah, she's doing fine," I answered, my tone then growing more sincere as I met his gaze. "I know it meant a lot to her that she was able to find you. She cared about Boromir so, so much."
I could've sworn the faintest smile pulled at the corners of Faramir's mouth. "I know. I am glad to hear of her safe return to Edoras."
I smiled back, turning to look at the gardens surrounding us again. "She always talked about wanting to see Minas Tirith for herself. I expect she'll probably make her way down here sometime soon." Mentioning the city, however, reminded me of the other major thing I'd intended to talk to Faramir about, and I quickly returned my focus to the young captain again. "Speaking of which, there was... something else I wanted to ask you about, if you're comfortable with it." Noting my shift back into a serious tone, Faramir frowned slightly, but nodded for me to continue anyway, and I took a breath. "One of the things Kathryn told me about her time in Ithilien was that you... warned her that Minas Tirith was in danger. More specifically, you believed that danger was coming from within, not just from Mordor itself."
At that, Faramir's jaw tightened, and I could sense his reluctance to discuss the subject. "...Yes."
I nodded, trying to sound as sincere as I could. "Listen, I know I pretty much just met you, and so this might be a lot to ask, but... I came here with Gandalf and Pippin to help save this city, if I can. And I doubt that I'll be able to do anything to help defend Minas Tirith against what's out there -" I pointed to the east "- but if there's something else at work here; a different form of enemy that's trying to dismantle the city from within, I want to help to fight against it. I want to do whatever I can - whatever needs to be done." I paused, choosing my words carefully before I continued. "And... I think I know what the internal danger is. But I need to be sure, I need to know that I'm right before I can do anything to help you. So... anything you can tell me about whatever it is you're sensing, or what you've seen or heard... I'd like to know." I looked up at Faramir again. "I know it's hard to ask you to trust me so suddenly, but I swear to you I'll never tell another soul. You have my absolute confidence in this, Faramir." I made sure to look him directly in the eye as I spoke. "I will not see this city and its innocent people fall to Sauron's corruption. Not if there's anything I can do to stop him."
For several seconds, Faramir was quiet, eyeing me warily as he listened to my proposition. But then, just as I'd started to wonder if I'd crossed a line, he spoke, low and quiet as if he feared someone else might overhear. "...I have seen a darkness within my father that has... changed him. For months now, he has not been himself, beyond that of the normal grief he would walk through at Boromir's fall." As Faramir went on, an uncomfortable knot twisted in my gut, hanging on his every word. "He has grown... paranoid, almost frantic, as if an unseen evil haunts his steps day and night. He speaks of visions in which he watches the gates of Minas Tirith shatter and burn, the city consumed by shadow and flame." Faramir paused, a flash of pity crossing his face. "The men say his mind is fading, and he has no hope left for Gondor. I suspect he believed the Ring to be our only hope of a fighting chance against Sauron. And even I, his own son, cannot understand what has happened to him."
As he finished, I felt a pang of sympathy for the man, and shifted to face him fully. "This is not your fault, Faramir. You must understand that. There's a greater evil at work here beyond your control; you can't blame yourself for everything that's happened. As he looked back at me, though, I exhaled, my initial suspicions now confirmed. "But after everything you've said here, and the things I've seen for myself, I do think I know what it is that's affected your father. And it's... not great."
Faramir frowned. "What have you seen?"
"Well, more experienced than seen," I corrected myself, taking a second to think about what I could say. "...This is hard to explain, but the first time I met your father, he knew things about me he shouldn't have known. Unless someone had told him." I looked up to meet Faramir's gaze, deadly serious as I spoke. "...Are you aware that your father possesses a palantír?"
Immediately, he nodded. "Yes, of course. I have never seen it for myself, but he does have one."
"Okay. What I'm about to tell you absolutely must stay between us. If the wrong people hear this, we could be suspected and accused of treason." There was an uneasy fear in his eyes, but he nodded again for me to continue anyway. "I think your father, at some point, may have made contact with Sauron through the palantír. And through that contact, Sauron managed to ensnare his mind and drive him mad."
For a moment, Faramir was stunned silent. "...You know this?"
"No, but it seems incredibly likely," I said. "It's not meant as a slight on your father; I'm not saying he's the one who initiated the connection with Sauron. It could've been the other way around. But the things your father shouldn't have known about me are things that Sauron does know about me. So it only seems logical that Sauron would've been the one to feed him that information, which means they've been connected somehow. I don't know for how long."
"Months," Faramir suddenly cut in, looking horrified. "Over a year, even. Before Boromir was even sent to Rivendell to attend Elrond's council, Father feared Sauron's growing strength. He feared we did not know our enemy well enough to defend ourselves against him. I remember one day, he... he vanished for hours. No one could find him; we searched all throughout the citadel. By the time dusk fell, we thought he'd been kidnapped, but then suddenly he was sighted in the courtyard, walking towards the end of the battlements as if in a trance." My face fell, an unnatural chill snaking up my spine. Faramir swallowed, clearly haunted by the memory. "One of the guards barely pulled him back before he wandered off the edge. He was muttering to himself, and the only words anyone could understand were "the doom of Minas Tirith," repeated over and over." Faramir's eyes flicked to mine as I stared at him in shock. "The healers said he had likely only suffered a nightmare," he whispered, "but perhaps it was much more than that."
"Oh my God..." I breathed. "Maybe that was it. He might've looked into the palantír thinking he could gain insight on Sauron's strength, but then..." My gaze fell away, suddenly feeling hollow as I remembered my own vision being consumed by fire and pain. "...Sauron overpowered him."
"And ever since, has been driving him to madness," Faramir finished, staring out towards the horizon in grim horror. "He weakens us from within to render us defenseless at every turn." Then he turned back to me, confusion now marring his face. "What can be done?"
I blinked, stumbling over my words as I tried to give him an answer I didn't have. "Uh... I-I don't know, we could... maybe get rid of it, or... or keep him away from it, somehow, or..." But for once, I had nothing. I had no clue what to do if Denethor was already this far gone. "...I don't know," I said finally. "How do you break someone's hold on a person through a palantír?" And would that even be enough to save him? It seemed impossible. But then I remembered my promise to myself - that I was going to do everything I could, no matter what, to keep Minas Tirith out of Sauron's clutches. No matter what. Even if it seems impossible. "I don't know," I said again, my resolve hardening as I looked back at Faramir. "But I'll find out. I'll do some research and come up with something."
Faramir nodded, his gaze lingering on me a moment longer. "I do not know if I could be of any use to you in this, but I will do all I can."
"No, no that's fine," I said. "I completely understand, I mean, you've already got a lot on your plate. And this will be... a difficult thing to deal with any way you slice it. Better me at risk than you." We shared a somber expression, and I knew he understood.
"As you wish," he replied, finally moving to stand from his spot on the bench. I followed his lead as he dipped his head, knowing our little secret garden meeting had come to a close. "Forgive me, but I must return to the citadel. I've other business to see to today."
"Of course," I said, offering a small smile.
Faramir didn't return it, but there was a deep sincerity in his eyes nonetheless as he spoke. "...Thank you, Erin. For all of this."
At that, my smile softened. "Absolutely. Like I said, I... I just want to help."
The young captain of Gondor gave a final nod before stepping back. "As do I. Farewell, Erin."
"See you later," I replied, watching as he turned and walked off into the gardens one more, soon disappearing into the foliage as I remained standing by the bench. As Faramir left, I let out a breath, a sinking feeling in my stomach as I realized things were about to get a lot more involved than I'd originally thought. But it doesn't matter, I reminded myself, also starting to head back the way I'd come. I don't care how much work it takes, I'm going to figure out a way to sever Sauron's hold on this city. He will not take this city, by force or by cunning. I cast a dark glare eastward at the blackened clouds slowly creeping closer and closer by the hour. Not if I have anything do with it.
–
-Faramir-
My thoughts were scattered as I reentered the citadel, moving through the halls in a daze as remnants of my conversation with Erin danced in my head. I had not at all expected our discussion to take such a turn when she'd first approached me in the gardens, and now I was left deeply unsettled by it. If what Erin had guessed was true, Sauron could be biding his time before corrupting my father completely, twisting him into a puppet of his own use. I thought of when I'd first spoken with him upon my return, and guilt struck my heart. He has been slowly decaying before my own eyes for so long, and I did not even know. All this time, and I could not see the evil festering within my own father. I remembered how desperate he'd been to send Boromir to Rivendell, even when my brother had not wanted to leave for such an errand. But Father had insisted, and so he had gone. Perhaps he was so urgent because he thought the Ring to be our final hope. Then I imagined Boromir traveling through the northern wilderness, surrounded by his companions. Smiling, laughing, and far from our ongoing warfare in the south. He will never have to witness Sauron's wrath destroy this city. He will never see it all burn. My gaze grew distant. Perhaps Father thought that, too.
Just then, however, a quiet voice shook me from my thoughts, drawing me back to the present. "What were you thinking, Peregrin Took?" I looked up to see the young Halfling sat on a bench further down the hall, shaking his head as he chided himself. "What service can a hobbit offer such a great lord of men?"
"It was well done." His head snapped towards me as I spoke, jumping slightly as his privacy was disturbed. He then quickly leapt to his feet as I strode forward to meet him. "Generous deeds should not be checked with cold counsel." My gaze fell to his tunic of dark velvet, and I nodded to the emblem of the White Tree emblazoned on its front. "You are to join the Tower Guard?"
Pippin glanced up, a hint of embarrassment in his voice. "I didn't think they would find any livery that would fit me."
"It once belonged to a young boy of the city," I said, a smirk growing on my face as my eyes traced over the familiar garment. "A very foolish one, who wasted many hours slaying dragons instead of attending to his studies."
The confusion on the halfling's face quickly gave way to amusement. "This was yours?"
"Yes, it was mine," I answered. "My father had it made for me." I reached out to tug at the sleeve, straightening a wrinkle in the fabric.
Pippin grinned. "Well... I'm taller than you were then." I smiled. "Though, I'm not likely to grow anymore," he added. "Except sideways."
I laughed with him at that, his infectious grin spreading to me also. "Never fitted me either," I admitted. "Boromir was always the soldier." But then my smile began to fade, remembering my thoughts from mere moments ago. "...They were so alike, he and my father. Proud... stubborn, even. But strong."
As I spoke, Pippin's expression shifted, and suddenly he spoke with a deep sincerity that made it seem as though I stood before a wise old king. "I think you have strength, of a different kind. And one day your father will see it."
I said nothing, only responding with a smile which felt weak and thin as the words hung in the air. How I wish that would come to pass. But now that I knew of my father's corruption, I feared it would never be so. And even if Erin succeeded in whatever plan she devised; even if my father's sanity was restored... I knew it would never be. Boromir had been the strength of our house, and I had ever dwelt in his shadow. That would always be Father's way of seeing things. But then, realizing I had fallen into sullen silence, I blinked, returning my focus to the halfling. "Thank you, Master Peregrin." He smiled, and again I could not help but return it. "The Tower Guard is sure to find its strength again with your wisdom at their backs." I motioned for him to follow as I started off down the hall once more. "Come, walk with me. I have a great interest in hearing tales of your folk and the Shire."
–
-Kaia-
"Get everyone up! On your feet! Weapons, we're being attacked!"
My eyes flew open the moment the shouts hit my ears, hands instantly flying to my swords laying right by my side. Within seconds, I was on my feet, wide awake as I spun to look around. The entire camp was in a panic, half of the men frantically trying to shake the grogginess of sleep as they ran to grab their weapons and defend themselves. Already, I could hear the jeers of the Orc pack, turning to see them flooding in from behind as they emerged from the darkness. Twin blades sang as they were drawn from their sheaths, and as soon as I had the Orcs in my sights, I charged forward, black metal glinting in the moonlight as they lashed out and tasted flesh. A dark grin split my face as I watched the first Orc fall. It's been too long since these blades have seen battle. Let's fucking do this.
Without hesitating, I turned to catch another Orc in the side, quickly falling into the familiar frenzy of action as I slashed and kicked my way through the horde. Clearly these Orcs had thought they'd get the jump on us with a sneak attack in the middle of the night, catching us off guard. We were expected to reach Dunharrow sometime within the next few days, so it wasn't really a shock to encounter an Orc pack in these parts now that we were drawing closer to Mordor. Maybe they'd been intentionally sent to slow us down or something. I didn't know, and honestly didn't give a damn. All I cared about was taking these idiots out as quickly as I could so I could go back to sleep.
A growl sounded from behind, and I spun both blades in my hands, stabbing backwards and feeling them sink into an Orc's chest. Barely pausing in my stride, I ripped them out and turned to attack another, blocking his sword with one blade while the other swung low and cut his stomach clean open. The Orc shrieked and fell to the ground instantly, and I stepped right over him to cut down another. I hadn't been in a proper fight like this since Amon Hen, but everything came rushing back to me like I'd been chopping down enemies just yesterday. Slice, duck, dodge, swipe. Rinse and repeat. Another ferocious roar suddenly sounded off to my right, and I quickly spun to block another Orc's blow as he swung high, driving him back a few feet before taking an open swing at his neck. As he fell, I spotted a Rohirrim soldier struggling to defend himself against an Orc nearby, so I ran up and drove both swords into the thing's back from behind, exchanging nods with the man before turning and plunging back into the thick of the battle.
The minutes continued to tick past, and I could feel the Rohirrim starting to overpower the Orcs, but I didn't slow down either way. I kept going, adrenaline pumping through my veins as I clashed with another one that jumped in my path. We crossed blades overhead, and he pushed with all his strength, his face inches from mine as he snarled with utterly ferocious breath. In response, I spat directly in his face, an in a fit of anger, the Orc shoved me back hard, causing me to stumble and fall. I caught myself just as he came stomping forward, roaring again as he stood over me, but in the second he took to gloat, I swung my legs, knocking his feet right out from under him. As soon as he hit the ground, I was on him, my blade slicing clean across his throat before he could even blink. Just as I drew back up to my full height, though, something slammed into my back, sending me flying forward onto my stomach. As I hit the ground, I bit the inside of my cheek hard, spitting out blood a second later with a growl. "Oh, come on!" I rolled just as an Orc slammed his axe into the ground where my head had been, getting my feet under me as he ripped his weapon free and charged me a second time. I stepped back to dodge his swing, pouncing as soon as his axe was down and killing him quickly.
Just then, I heard a warning shout from a nearby soldier, and made the mistake of turning my head to look. A second later some stray Orc weapon snagged me in the arm, nicking me just enough to rip through my tunic and draw blood. I swore as I spun back, hissing in pain. "Watch it, asshole!" I took a swipe at him, but missed, and the bastard ran off before I could catch him. I let out another growl of frustration and was about to go chase him down, but at that moment, another body bumped into me from behind. This time, I spun instantly, blades up so as not to be caught off-guard again, but was stopped by a pair of twin white knives catching my own black ones in midair. My muscles relaxed instantly, dropping my weapons as soon as we made eye contact. "Oh, it's you!"
–
-Legolas-
I raised an eyebrow as I lowered my knives, Kaia letting out a sigh of relief from where she stood opposite me. "You're lucky you've got those elven reflexes. I was about to put a nice gash in that princely face of yours."
"You mistook me for an Orc?" I quipped. "I'm insulted."
"Oh, whatever," Kaia rolled her eyes before glancing around. "It looks like we're done here, anyway."
I nodded, my own eyes also scanning the surrounding site. Whatever band of Orcs this was that had dared to attack us, they had not done so wisely. The battle had come to a swift end, with some of the Rohirrim suffering small injuries, but no lives lost. I watched as the few remaining Orcs attempted to flee, though they did not make it far before spears and arrows struck them down.
A hiss from Kaia drew my attention, and I turned back to see her eyeing a small cut on her arm. "Do you have any wrap on you?" she asked. "It's not bad, but I don't want it to get infected."
I shook my head, but motioned for her to follow. "Aragorn will have something for you. Come." As we began making our way through the camp, my gaze began instinctively sweeping back and forth, searching for familiar faces to assure all in our company were well. I could see Éowyn and Kathryn far off on the other side of the clearing, the former appearing irritated as she spoke, though for what I did not know. Éomer passed us a moment later with a curt nod, and not much further ahead, I caught sight of Aragorn's tall form amidst the others, turning to head towards him. A rumbling, victorious laugh from beside him told me Gimli had survived the skirmish as well, and I felt my initial adrenaline begin to fade as I swept the area again. Aragorn is there, and Gimli with him, and Erin is - I stopped short as if a shock had gone through me, catching myself the moment I realized my mistake. ...Not here. She is not here, she's in Minas Tirith. I frowned, shaking my head the slightest bit.
"You good, Legolas?"
I turned at Kaia's question, seeing the flash of confusion on her face at my sudden halt. Masking my frustrations, I nodded, motioning forward. "Aragorn is just there." She returned the nod, stepping ahead of me as she also spotted the ranger. The moment her back was to me, I let out a breath, berating myself for my own foolishness. Valar help me.
As Kaia and I approached our two companions, Gimli gave another boisterous shout. "Ah, there you are, lass! And you as well, laddie! We were wonderin' where you'd gotten off to."
Kaia smiled. "Hey, Gimli. You held up okay?"
He gave an indignant snort. "It takes more than a rabble of mindless Orcs to best one of Durin's Folk."
"Then I am glad it was only a band of Orcs, and not the Ents of Fangorn," I smirked. "That, if I recall, had you shaking in your iron boots." Kaia and Aragorn both laughed, with Gimli's eyes narrowing in a glare as he turned to begin cleaning his axe, muttering something like 'smarmy woodland sprite' under his breath. I smiled, turning my attention to my own weapons as I sat on an overturned log nearby and began to wipe them clean. I paid no mind to the movements of the others behind me as I worked, however, quickly becoming lost in thought once more. Though I knew it brought me no benefit, I could not help but think of Erin again, still seeming as though she were a thousand miles away. I desperately hoped we would reach Minas Tirith before Sauron's armies did, but in truth, I had no way of knowing. He might have already reached them a fortnight ago, and we could arrive to find all within the city walls slaughtered and rotting in the sun. For a brief moment, the image crossed my mind, and I suppressed a shudder. Ai, let that not be the case.
Just then, someone moved to step around the log, and I looked over to Kaia as she sank down beside me, carefully wrapping a light gauze around her upper arm. It was only then that I realized Aragorn and Gimli had gone elsewhere, leaving the two of us alone in the dim moonlight. Kaia said nothing at first, but then turned to me, curiosity in her dark eyes. "So I take it you'll be sticking it out with us all the way to Minas Tirith."
I stiffened, returning my gaze to my knives as I reached for my whetstone to sharpen them. "Yes."
Although I wished she would not press it further, I was not surprised when she voiced her questions. "...Why? Why did you choose us?"
For a long while, I was silent, the only sound between us the rhythmic scrape of stone against blade. Why had I chosen to stay in the south? Because yes, after so much time of worrying and fearing for the fate of my own people, my father, my home... after being given every opportunity to ride north and fight with them, I had not done it. The moment we had left Edoras for Dunharrow, I had made my choice. One I knew I would not be able to take back. Finally, I sighed, still staring down at the blade in my hand. "...When I left my father's halls many years ago, it was largely because I had grown angered by how isolated he had become. He cared nothing of those beyond his own realm, even when evil and darkness threatened to spread to their lands. And I did not want that, in the end... I could not bring myself to simply stand beside him and watch as the rest of the world struggled against the growing shadow." By now, my hand had stilled, eyes tracing over winding patterns etched into the blades. "So I left. I abandoned my life in Mirkwood and turned west in hopes of finding a place in the world where I could be of more use in the fight against Sauron. Where I could fight to protect all the Free Peoples of Middle-Earth, not just my own kin." I paused. "That was all I ever wanted. Not to rule from a distance, hidden away in a palace all my life, but to take action, and drive the Enemy back from every corner of Arda he sought to infect." I lifted my gaze to finally look back at Kaia, who sat utterly still as she listened intently. "It is the same choice I made when I chose to answer Elrond's summons to Rivendell instead of returning home. The same choice I made when I became a part of the Fellowship. I chose to lay aside everything else for the sake of defending and protecting the future of Middle-Earth. And the fight that will determine that future is to be in Gondor, not Mirkwood. So Gondor is where I will go."
As I finished, Kaia's expression softened, shifting into one of understanding as her gaze fell away. "...Wow. That's... that's really admirable, Legolas." Then she lifted her eyes to meet mine once more, her voice quiet, but firm. "I'm proud of you."
I frowned in confusion. "What?"
"I'm proud of you," she said again, a weight to her gaze which seemed to pin me in place. "I know how much you've wrestled with this, and I know it wasn't an easy choice for you to make." She smiled. "But you did."
I stared at her for a moment longer before turning to the southern horizon. "...Do you think I made the right choice?"
Kaia took a deep breath, also looking southward. "I don't think I could tell you," she said, my thoughts once again drifting to a city of stone far in the distance, preparing for the coming storm. "I think eventually you'll just... know."
–
-Erin-
I squinted against the dim light of the room, reaching up to rub my temples with a pained groan in an attempt to disperse my headache. I'd been down here in the library for hours, poring over dozens of different scrolls and ancient books in search of any information I could get on the palantíri. I glanced up at the candles I'd lit around the desk I was currently hunched over, frowning when I noticed most of them had almost melted down to their bases. Realistically, I probably should've gotten up to go get more of them awhile ago, but I couldn't bring myself to leave. Ever since talking to Faramir a few days ago, I'd felt a pressing urgency to figure out how I was going to tackle cutting off Sauron's connection through the seeing stone. If Denethor remained under its influence for too much longer, Sauron could start using him to give direct orders that would undermine Minas Tirith's defenses even further - we'd be like sitting ducks by the time Mordor's army reached us.
I let out a frustrated sigh, pushing one parchment aside as I reached its end and picking up another one. There's got to be something here, I thought, skimming over the paragraphs of aged, faded ink. This whole section was on ancient artifacts of Middle-Earth, so there must be information about the palantíri in here somewhere... I wished I could've recruited someone else to help me with this research session, but everyone was already occupied trying to prepare for the oncoming battle in their own ways. Gandalf and Faramir were planning and discussing defense tactics almost every other day, Pippin was going through the necessary training to become a member of the Tower Guard... the only three people I trusted in this city couldn't help me. I was on my own for this one. I came to the end of yet another page talking about the history of the Istari and grumbled to myself, flipping through the next few to find those all dedicated to wizards also. Not helpful. None of this is helpful. God, I'm about to just say 'fuck it' and wing it entirel - Wait. I shot upright in my seat as I lifted up another old, dusty piece of parchment, so frail I thought it might disintegrate in my hands. But there it was, in large, neat lettering across the top of the page. "The Palantíri," I read, a spark of hope in my chest. "Yes, this is it!" My eyes skimmed over the handwritten lines as quickly as I dared - I didn't want to miss any crucial information now that I was finally getting somewhere. "...Made by the Noldor in Eldamar... given by the elves to the Númenóreans, who kept them as heirlooms until the Fall of Númenór during the late Second Age..." I skipped further downward. "I need to know how they were made," I muttered. "If they can be altered or... broken at all."
I skipped past one page, then another detailing the history of the seven stones - laughing to myself at the note of the Elostirion stone being safely hidden and inaccessible to man - until I came to something much more relevant. Appearance and Properties. Bingo. I focused on the thin, precise writing, reading aloud to myself. "The palantíri, in appearance, were dark, perfectly smooth spheres of varying sizes; some were small and portable while others, particularly the master stones, were too enormous to be lifted by Men." I frowned as I read the next line. "They were completely unmarked or unmarred, and even when unseated they remained inviolable." So they can't be harmed? Unsatisfied, I skimmed a little further. ...Blah blah blah... would suffer no damage if by accident or malice they were unseated and rolled off their tables. "Shit." But then my eyes fell to the next line, and I straightened. "They were indeed unbreakable by any violence then controlled by men, though some believed that great heat, such as that of Orodruin, might shatter them, and surmised that this had been the fate of the Ithil stone in the fall of Barad-dûr." I stopped, my eyes frozen on a particular string of words. Great heat might shatter them... so they can be destroyed. But this paragraph only mentioned it being possible through the fires of Mount Doom. And we already had one secret espionage mission headed there that was risky enough. I couldn't take a palantír to Mount Doom. I looked over the next few paragraphs, but the only other means of destruction mentioned was dragon fire, and we didn't have that either. So what do I do?
Setting the parchment down, I leaned back in my chair, staring blankly at the desk as I thought. Destroying a palantír seemed impossible. I mean, I'd assumed I would be able to find a way to tamper with one so Sauron couldn't use it anymore, but to destroy the stone entirely? It had never even occurred to me. But I can't destroy it, I corrected myself. I can't get it to Mount Doom, and I don't have dragon fire. Normal fire clearly wouldn't be enough, and I don't have access to anything else that's stronger than -
And then it hit me.
Blue Fire.
I sucked in a sharp breath, looking back to the parchment. Could that work? Would the Blue Fire be powerful enough to destroy a palantír? At first, I was hesitant to put it on par with a volcano or Smaug, but then I remembered what I'd seen at Helm's Deep. How I'd watched steel plate armor turn to a puddle of molten metal in less than a minute. The severe burns it had given me personally when I'd only been on the edge of its blast radius. I stared at the writing, wide-eyed. ...If anything else had a chance of destroying it... it would be the Blue Fire. My mind was already starting to spin, threads of ideas weaving together into a greater plan. And I know exactly where I'm going to get it. In a flash, I was on my feet, grabbing as many of the parchments as I could carry and shoving them back into their proper places on the shelves as quickly as I could. I need to talk to Faramir and Gandalf. They can help me pull this together; get me what I need. I quickly snuffed out all the candles, whirling around and rushing out of the room with my heartbeat quickening in my chest. I've got it. I've got a plan. I'm actually going to be able to do something to help save this city. As I headed up the stairs to push past the main doors of the library, I couldn't help but give a wry grin. Looks like I'm going to go blow up a palantír.
A/N: oh my GOD I've literally been waiting to get to this part of Erin's plotline for FOREVERRRRRR I'm so excited! (Also, everything Erin reads about the palantíri in this chapter is either directly quoted from The Unfinished Tales or the LOTR Wiki! So it's the real deal!)
Also, I hope you enjoyed the little scrap Kaia and Co. got into, haha. I wanted to spice things up, and it's been way too long since we've seen Kaia in action, so there you go! See you guys next time, and thanks to all of you who are following/faving this story! :)
