Hi everybody! I am very touched by the amount of people who encouraged me in various reviews and pms. I received nearly thirty reviews telling me to continue! Thank you so much. It meant a lot to me. Really, it meant a lot.
Here's some news about the story.
We've passed 100 reviews! That is just awesome, guys. It's just awesome. Thank you all so so much. Words cannot express how grateful I am. You guys are all awesome.
Secondly, I HAVE A BETA! 1429012827 has generously volunteered to help me check my story for errors and improve upon my ideas. She helped a lot in writing Boromir's battle. Thank you so much for helping me. Your changes really improved the quality of the story.
oh yeah, you must have noticed that my chapters are getting longer and longer. this chapter alone, not including the author's notes numbered 7000 words. is it getting too long for you? need your opinions...
Thanks so much for reading! Enjoy this chapter!
-=o=o=o=o=o=o=o=o=o=o=o=o=o=o=o=o=o=o=o=o=o=o=o=o=o=o=o=o=o=o=o=o=o=o=o=o
Boromir
Boromir stood front and centre of the dark battlefield like a beacon for the Army of Gondor behind him. He gripped his sword in one hand, his shield in the other, and glanced at his brother Faramir who was doing the same thing. It was almost midnight, and the darkness provided the creatures of Mordor with protection and endless strength. Behind him, Minas Tirith, the white city of Gondor seemed rather pale compared to the darkness ahead. Catapults hurled stones and flaming projectiles at the enemy. Archers fired volley after volley of arrows that landed in the enemy ranks like rain. Boromir pulled out his precious horn, the Horn of Gondor, raised it to his lips and blew a loud, piercing blast. Everyone cried out in defiance and charged.
The army seemed endless, for the darkness itself seemed to be brewing more and more orcs. Gigantic Mumakil, huge, grey beasts with a long, grasping limb at the front of their heads and pairs of long, sharp tusks stomped over the battlefield. (NOTE: Limb=trunk. They had no knowledge of elephant anatomy at the time.)Trolls, giant trolls like the ones in Moria lumbered around, swiping at anything within reach. Easterlings and Southrons, men who had gone over to the enemy attacked savagely, crying in unknown tongues.
Boromir was gradually losing hope. What could men do against such relentless hatred? Wave after wave of enemies stepped over the dead bodies of their predecessors and attacked. He was tiring, yes, but the enemies were not, and sooner or later they would get a lucky strike at him. However, he was a steward of Gondor; he would at least go down fighting and die a warrior's death. He shot a glance at his brother, who noticed and nodded grimly. Faramir knew what he was thinking, perhaps he was also thinking the same thing.
They seemed to have been fighting for hours. His arm was as heavy as lead, and his sword was wet with dark blood. Every step was heavier than the next, for an impressive array of bruises and scratches, and a few bleeding wounds covered his body, sapping his already diminishing strength. Boromir made a mental note to himself. If he survived this, he would take a long vacation to Ithilien, away from the annoying business of being a son of the steward. Exhaustion and pain marked his every move, but still he continued to fight. He would fight until the death, if need be. where there was still life, there was still hope.
The battlefield seemed to have lightened. A pale light came from the east, slowly tearing the darkness away from them. Why was that?
"Hold your ground, Men of Gondor!" Triumph was stamped on Faramir's face. "The worst part of the night is over, and we are still standing. Dawn is coming and VICTORY WILL BE OURS!"
Boromir mentally slapped himself as he listened to his brother's rousing speech. How could he have not realized? Dawn was coming! He turned to his men, and saw new morale and determination on their faces. He raised his arm and called out "Let us send these beasts back where they BELONG!"
His men gave a tired but defiant cry, and fought with renewed vigor. They were going to win. Boromir could feel it. With new strength, he cut down dozens of orcs again and again. He turned to his brother, a fierce smile on his face, his brother grinned back at him. Victory was near. One by one, the orcs were felled. The battle was theirs.
They had won. The day had been won.
But then it all went wrong. A piercing shriek filled the air and made Boromir's blood run cold and curdle. Sudden fear paralyzed him. Around him, the men of Gondor stood frozen, faces white with fear and despair. To the east, a shape approached. A huge, black figure, with two enormous wings like sails that beat up and down slowly, its wingtips skimming the battlefield. A black dragon-like beast flew towards them, and astride it was…a Nazgul. Not just any Ringwraith, it was the Witch King himself, a twisted crown on his forehead, a Morgul blade by his side. And just then, more shrieks split the air.
Despair washed in waves over Boromir. The Nine wraiths, all of them. The Nine were here, and there was no defense against them. The men of Gondor dropped their weapons and ran towards the city in desperation. Boromir couldn't blame them; his own legs were turning to jelly.
Suddenly, the worst happened. Faramir, his brother,his brave, stupid brother stepped up to face the Witch King. he raised his sword in defiance of the wraith.
"No!" Boromir raced after his brother, desperate to save him, but he was too late. Faramir sank to his knees, a black dart embedded in his heart. The Nazgul made a hissing sound, which took Boromir a moment to realize that it was laughter. Tears welled up in his eyes as he ran towards his brother. Faramir gasped weakly, trying to take in another jagged breath. He grasped his hand. Dark shadows passed over him, and he saw the Nazgul heading for the White City.
Boromir knelt beside his brother amongst a sea of corpses and watched helplessly from afar as the Nazgul utterly laid waste to his beloved city. Heart wrenching sobs broke from him as the city caught fire. The fell beasts repeatedly smashed into Minas Tirith, until it finally crumbled and fell, breaking into countless, irreparable pieces. Detachedly, he heard the screams and wails of his people as they were destroyed by the Nazgul or eaten by the beasts. His heart died within him as his brother drew his last breath. A shadow extended over Gondor now. The Nazgul walked among the blackened ruins of his once-great city, and then took off on their fell beasts.
Everything he had was gone. GONE!
Boromir sat straight up in his leafy bed, gasping, and lost his balance. He fell straight to the ground with a loud "Oof!" The hard knock cleared his head, though. It had all been only a dream. He had been having this same nightmare for nearly a week now. Quickly, he took in his surroundings. He was in the elf forest, he was safe. His brother was still in Ithilien, Gondor was still safe. He heaved a sigh of relief and lay back on the bed.
He couldn't sleep. His nightmare kept coming back to haunt him. In a bid to calm himself, he mentally replayed the words the Lady had said to him: "Boromir, I know what it is you fear, but do not lose faith. Even now, there is hope left. You will have a part to play in the events to come. Do not let your fear overcome you. I know what it is that tempts you, but do not give in to it..." Eventually, he decided to take a walk outside in the night to clear his head. He walked over to a tall tree and sat down against it, holding his throbbing head in his palms.
He heard the sound of footsteps behind him. Instinctively, he grasped the hilt of his sword with his superior reflexes, turning only to find himself face to face with his…ah…supposed king.
"You should rest, Boromir. Have no fear, these borders are well protected."Boromir relaxed the grip on his sword and allowed Aragorn to sit beside him. He had mistrusted the tall Man at first and envied his position of Heir to Gondor, but after travelling with him for a month and watching him make wise decisions, he now trusted the tall Ranger as a brother, second only to Faramir.
He sighed. "I cannot rest."
Aragorn looked at him, a concerned look in his eyes. Boromir explained. "For nights on end, I have been having nightmares. The Lady knew of this. I have heard her voice in my head. She spoke of the fear I have, of the fall of Gondor and of my Father. She told me that there was hope even now, but I cannot see it!" Images of the burning city filled his mind and allowed tears to form in his eyes. He gave Aragorn a look of despair. "It is long since we had any hope."
Aragorn said nothing; he just knelt beside him, listening.
Boromir took a deep breath. "My father is a noble man, but he is old. His rule is failing, and our people…our people lose faith. He now looks to me to make things right, and I would do it. I would do anything to see the glory of Gondor restored." He turned to Aragorn. "Have you ever seen it? The White Tower of Ecthelion, glimmering like a spire of pearl and silver, its banners caught high in the morning breeze? Have you ever been called home by the clear ringing of silver trumpets?" Boromir's voice grew wistful as he remembered his home. How he wished he could return. How he wished that this accursed ring had never been forged. How he wished the Enemy had stayed dead.
"I have seen the white city…long ago…" His voice was so quiet that Boromir barely caught it, yet he could feel the love that the man held for the City. He took heart and gripped Aragorn's hand.
"One day, our paths will lead us there, and the tower guards shall take up the call, 'the Lords of Gondor have returned'". He said it fiercely, hope shining in his eyes.
Aragorn smiled back at Boromir. "Yes, we will." He said it with quiet assurance.
They sat together for a while in quiet companionship, each absorbed in their own thoughts. Slowly, though, Boromir's eyelids became heavy.
Boromir rose slowly. "Thank you, Aragorn. Now, I must rest."
Aragorn smiled back at him. "Sweet dreams."
Sweet dreams? Aragorn has been spending too much time around the demigods. Still, it's appropriate. Boromir walked back to his room and lay on his bed. Soon, he fell asleep. This time, he had a beautiful dream of being back in his beloved city with his friends. The Lady spoke the truth… mused Boromir. There is still hope… may my vision become fulfilled.
=o=o=o=o=o=o=o=o=o=o=o=o=o=o=o=o=o=o=o=o=o=o=o=o=o=o=o=o=o=o=o=o=o=o=o=o==o=o=o=o=o=o
Percy
Percy was beating himself up. How could I have been so stupid? It's not like this is the first time… the same thing happened in the Sea of Monsters. I should have stopped her! I am such a Seaweed Brain. Percy carried Annabeth gently to her rooms. Her sobs had subsided, but she was still shaking and gasping softly. Tenderly, he laid her down on her bed and pulled her blankets over her. He stood there quietly watching her, feeling so guilty and helpless. Thalia and Nico stood beside him silently, casting concerned looks at Annabeth.
He watched as Annabeth moaned softly in her sleep. Thalia and Nico, by unspoken consent, walked out of the room, giving him some alone. Percy knelt beside her bed and took her hand in his. Annabeth stirred.
"Percy?" She asked quietly, hesitantly.
"I'm here, Annabeth. It's okay." He tried to soothe her with his presence.
"Why aren't you in your room?"
"Do you really have to ask?"
Annabeth smiled weakly. "Thanks, Seaweed Brain."
Inwardly, he winced at the name, but he didn't show it. "Thanks for what? I didn't stop you from looking into the mirror. I couldn't protect you." He said bitterly.
Annabeth managed a weak glare. "Don't beat yourself up about it, Percy. You know me; I'm pretty stubborn when I want to. It wasn't your fault. And I wanted to thank you for staying by me."
That doesn't make me feel any better. Percy looked into her grey eyes. "Do you want to tell me what you saw? Maybe that could help."
Annabeth hesitated for a moment, she seemed on the verge of refusing, but then she changed her mind and nodded slowly. "You'd better call Thals and Nick too. There's no need to tell it twice."
Percy nodded, relieved, and walked outside in search of his cousins. He found them sparring with some skeletal warriors in a decent sized clearing. Thalia fired arrow after arrow into the warriors, while Nico hacked at them with amazing skill.
Percy was impressed. The kid had certainly improved since the Battle of Manhattan. They were both obviously taking out the day's frustration on the skeletons. Percy almost felt sorry for them( the skeletons). He watched for a few minutes, and then called them both into Annabeth's room.
They sat in a circle beside her bed expectantly. Annabeth sat up on her bed, closed her eyes and took a deep breath. She began to speak.
"At first, the mirror was blank. Then, images started appearing. I saw Camp. I saw Chiron talking to the campers by the campfire about our disappearance. He told of the efforts made to trace us. Apparently, Grover has been sending satyrs and nature spirits searching for us. Tyson's also out searching with Mrs. O'Leary. The Hunters of Artemis have been dispatched. Artemis and Apollo were even taking time from their daily duties to search for us. I saw worry in everyone's eyes. The campfire burned low and dim. The whole camp was subdued and unhappy."
A pang struck Percy's heart. He wished with all his heart that he was home. Similar looks appeared on Thalia and Nico's faces. They were all homesick. He was touched that so many people cared for them and were looking for them.
"Then, I saw Olympus. I saw the council arguing again. Poseidon, Hades, Artemis and my mom were yelling at Zeus for sending us away. The council was split. On Athena's side were Poseidon, Hades, Artemis, Apollo, Aphrodite, Hermes and Hephaestus. On Zeus' side were Hera, Dionysus and Ares. Demeter and Hestia remained neutral. Zeus was being an ass as usual and he was complaining how many gods were against him. He then asked each of them their reasons for siding against him. Our parents were obviously very upset at Zeus, Hermes and Hephaestus were on their side because Percy had done them many favors in the past. Apollo liked Percy and he cared for his sister, while Aphrodite was just upset that her favorite couple was gone."
Figures. Percy rolled his eyes. Thalia facepalmed and Nico snickered. Annabeth managed a faint smile.
"Anyway, the argument was getting more and more heated. Zeus finally struck his bolt on the floor, shutting everybody up, and said that they were better off with us gone, the ass. He said we were a bit too dangerous and maybe it was for the best. My mother snapped. She stood up and yelled at Zeus for a full ten minutes, cursing his stupidity and his pride, and declaring that she would do anything to get us back. Then, she stormed out of the throne room. Poseidon and Hades glared at Zeus and walked out too, as did Hermes, Apollo and Artemis. Hestia tried to call them back, but they were all so angry that no one listened. Later, natural disasters happened all over the world-Hurricanes, Earthquakes, forest fires caused by lightning, tsunamis, landslides, and solar storms. Nature was at war with herself. My mother spent her time trying to find us or planning ways to seriously piss Zeus off. It was chaos. There might be very well a civil war looming because of us."
Percy was horrified. That must have been when she had cried. "Mother, NO!"He had never thought of his Father's reaction to his disappearance. Things were worse than they had thought. He then noticed the ground rumbling and the smell of ozone in the air. Apparently his friends felt the same way. Another civil war? Only five years since I last prevented one, and now there's going to be another one? Can't they just leave us alone and allow us to live the rest seventy years of my life in peace? If I get back, I'm going to knock them all upside the head. he grumbled to himself. When I get back..he hastily corrected himself.
"Then, the scene changed. I saw Gandalf, falling down the chasm of Moria. He survived the fall, but was captured by dozens of orcs and taken to an old man in white. He was then dragged out of the mines and taken to a tall, black tower with four spires at the top. He was chained and thrown into a dank dungeon. The white wizard tortured him every day, laughing at him, taunting him. My heart broke as I watched him suffer. The wizard wanted him to tell him about us. About the children who controlled the elements. Gandalf wouldn't say anything. He suffered. Then, the mirror shut off and became blank again. All saw was my face."
Percy sat back, thinking about the recent revelations. Gandalf was alive? They had to rescue him! Hope flared in his heart. Maybe things weren't so hopeless after all. Captured by another wizard and tortured for information about them… not so good. That fact made him even more determined to save Gandalf. He saw similar expressions of hope bloom on his cousin's faces. Their leader was alive. Then, he remembered something. Annabeth had screamed near the end. She had been so shocked and distraught about it that she had broken down. She had seen something that made her cry with fear. What she had described was disturbing, but it wouldn't have made her break down and cry. She's hiding something
Thalia had evidently realized it too. "Is there anything else, Annabeth?" she asked gently, putting a hand on Annabeth's forearm.
Annabeth shook her head violently. "No! There's nothing else. No." she buried her face in her hands. "No."
Nico frowned slightly. "The lady doth protest too much, methinks." He quoted. Percy rolled his eyes at him. Evidently he had been spending some time with the dead poets again, Shakespeare most likely.
Annabeth squeezed her eyes shut. "Please, guys. Don't press me about this. I'll tell you when I'm ready."
Percy nodded reluctantly. "Alright, Annabeth, I trust you." He really did. If there was something important to be said, he trusted Annabeth to tell him in her own time.
Annabeth winced like he had hit her, which hurt Percy, but he didn't let it show. Annabeth nodded sadly. "Thanks, Percy."
Percy stood reluctantly to leave the room, but stopped as Annabeth caught his hand. He turned to look at her curiously, hopefully.
"Please… stay with me." Annabeth stuttered.
"Always." Percy whispered at her. There was no hesitation at all.
"Thank you." She smiled gratefully.
=o=o=o=o=o=o=o=o=o=o=o=o=o=o=o=o=o=o=o=o=o=o=o=o=o=o=o=o=o=o=o=o=o=o=o=o=o=o=o=o=o=o=
Samwise
Sam got up early the next morning, full of excitement and anticipation, eager to explore this beautiful garden paradise the elves had wrought. He got up from his bed and padded over to the door of the room, careful to avoid stepping on the sleeping forms of Merry, Pippin and Mr. Frodo. Frodo had come in very late last night with a pale face, but had refused to give any explanation of his whereabouts, only saying that the Lady had wanted to talk to him. I wonder what the Lady had said or done to make him go so pale. Pale… That's not a healthy color for hobbits to be. He had wanted to inquire further, but one look at his master's face told him to wait.
When he finally reached the door, he nearly had a heart attack. Last night, when the elves had led them to their rooms, the climb up the trees hadn't seemed so far. Now, precariously balanced on the walkways high up in the trees, he felt his heart leap up to his mouth and beat faster. Hobbits didn't like heights. They felt safest and most comfortable on the earth, or maybe under it would be better. His head swam as he glanced down and the dizzying drop.
"Ah, Good morning, Sam, Would you care to join me?" A familiar voice startled Sam out of his look-fearfully-at-the-forest-floor-a-long-way-belo w session. Looking up, he saw Strider…Aragorn on the tallest balcony above him, gazing at the huge, dark forest below him.
"Good morning…Aragorn." He stuttered, trying to conceal his fear of heights from the Man, then "What are you doing up there on that ridiculously high platform?"
Aragorn chuckled. "Here, is the best vantage point in all Lothlorien to watch the sun rise over Middle Earth. It is a glorious and beautiful sight, and not one to be missed." He reached a hand out towards Sam, who held an internal debate where common sense and interest battled fiercely.
Interest finally won, and Sam hesitantly grasped Aragorn's hand. The strong Man pulled him up with ease and together they sat, resting in the cool night just before the dawn. They sat in silence, waiting.
A faint golden light appeared in the horizon, which slowly became brighter and larger, until the Woods of Lothlorien was bathed in a beautiful golden light. Sam saw many hundreds of elves, also standing on various walkways and balconies enjoying the sun rise, announcing a new day. It was a glorious sight. Then, the sound of birdsong filled the air, as the birds of the forest greeted the new day. It was perfect. Sam tried to take in every detail of this beautiful moment, committing it to memory. This was a sight he never wanted to forget.
Aragorn sighed wistfully. "This sight never ceases to amaze me afresh, and I have seen it for many years."
Sam nodded slowly, in awe. "It's an eye-opener, and no mistake."
Soon, the sun had risen, a new day begun. Aragorn got up and extended his hand to the hobbit. "Would you need any help descending?"
Sam grinned at Aragorn. "Thank you, Master Aragorn, but I would prefer to master my own fear. You won't always be here to help."
Aragorn smiled approvingly. "Very wise decision you made. I'll see you at the breakfast table, then." He descended the spiraling flight of stairs and disappeared into the forest. Sam was impressed at the Man's ability to walk as quietly as a hobbit. Not all men could walk that quietly. Sam suppressed a huge yawn and decided to go and wake his friends.
Sam smirked as he threw open the door to the room he shared with the other hobbits, letting the bright sunlight stream in. "Rise and shine! It's a new day!" he exclaimed cheerily.
He was greeted by the sight of a few pillows flying towards his face and loud grumbling. He hurriedly closed the door, and then opened it again after a few seconds. He then proceeded to pull the blankets off his comrades and smack them with their own pillows. This had the desired effect and soon one cheerful hobbit walked out of the room whistling, followed by a tired but amused hobbit who was chuckling softly , and two grumbling, cursing hobbits who were devising some very creative paybacks for a certain Samwise Gamgee. I wonder if I should be worried…
When he peeked into Boromir's room warily, the Man was already awake and practicing his swordplay. There was a glint in his eyes that suggested he was fighting some unseen enemy. There was intensity in his movements that both awed and frightened him. Sam closed the door hurriedly and walked to the next room—Thalia's room. It was empty, as was Nico's room. They had evidently woken up even earlier than Sam and had barely gotten any sleep, judging from the very small depression on the bed and pillows. Legolas had already awoken and was conversing with the forest elves in their high voices, while Gimli slept like…a rock. Sam gave up and went to the final room.
He got a minor surprise as he entered Annabeth's room. Annabeth was still fast asleep with a peaceful smile on her face. The surprising thing? her hand was still gripping Percy's hand. Percy was also fast asleep on a chair beside the bed, also holding on tightly to Annabeth's hand. He had evidently fallen asleep while sitting. They both looked so sweet together, smiling peacefully. It must have been the first time they could rest since their harrowing escape from Moria. He decided to leave them be and continue on to breakfast.
They had breakfast in a huge open hall. Four tall, thick trees served as pillars in the four corners of the hall, and a green canopy of vines and leaves woven over the trees served as a roof, and there were no walls, which added to the natural feel of the hall. But few people paid much attention to that, as all eyes (and noses) were attracted to an enormous table laden with food in the centre, Breakfast was delicious, with lots of fresh-baked bread and plates of freshly picked fruits. Sam resolved to pay a visit to the gardeners here and ask for their gardening secrets. If he could grow apples and pears like these, he would be the envy of the entire Shire. There were a few minor complaints from Nico, Merry and Pippin about the vegetarian fare but nobody paid them any mind. Lady Galadriel had also decided to have breakfast with them, much to Sam's shock. To his (and the demigods and hobbits) relief, she did not require them to make polite conversation with her and spent most of the time talking to Aragorn, who was beside her in elvish. She also did give most of them unsettling gazes, but that was about it. All in all, it was a rather enjoyable affair.
After an enormous breakfast, Sam first destination… was the garden. The elves there were slightly cold at first, but they soon warmed to a fellow gardener, and Sam was soon, to his immense delight, learning all sorts of gardening methods he never would have picked up in the Shire. He grinned happily as one of the elves taught him patiently how to cross breed plants to make them bigger and better. This could be one of the best days of his life.
=o=o=o=o=o=o=o=o=o=o=o=o=o=o=o=o=o=o=o=o=o=o=o=o=o=o=o=o=o=o=o=o=o=o=o=o=o=o=o=o=o=o=
Gimli
Gimli was very much prepared to be miserable. He had never really liked elves much. "Those nasty, tall, pointy eared elves; Always acting so cold and superior…"he muttered to himself. His father's stories about being imprisoned in Mirkwood only served to increase his distrust of them, and even though he knew that elves, dwarves and men had allied together in the Battle of the Five Armies, he still didn't like elves much. And now not only did he have to travel and work with one, but now he was in a big forest FULL of them. And from the way Haldir had acted, he was fully prepared to be miserable for the span of his stay in this cursed forest. Durin's Beard! I hate this.
"Friend Gimli!" a high voice called from outside his room. Legolas… Legolas seemed to be an exception among the elves, though. Though the elf had been cold and dismissing of him at first, and they had many bitter quarrels, he couldn't deny that the elf had proved different from what he had expected. They were almost friends now and they had both saved each other's lives in battle. That tended to form a strong bond. Gimli frowned. Could he really become friends with an elf? Could he really put aside his people's age-old prejudice?
"Gimli!" Gimli was startled out of his musings. Legolas had entered his room and was watching him bemusedly. "You have been staring into space and muttering for almost five minutes." He commented, grinning widely. That's strange. Only yesterday he was crying and mourning Gandalf's death. Why the sudden change in demeanor?
Gimli frowned at him. "Why are you so cheerful today? I would have thought you would be still distraught over Gandalf's death."
Legolas grin stretched even wider, if it was possible. "Mithrandir is alive!" he fairly whooped with joy. "Annabeth and Frodo both shared about a vision they had in the Lady's glass. Mithrandir is alive!" the elf danced a ridiculous (in Gimli's eyes) jig around the room.
Gandalf? Alive?"Impossible." He growled. "I myself saw him fall into the bottomless chasm of Khazad-Dum, dragged by that foul beast, Durin's Bane, the Balrog. How can he be alive?"
Legolas seemed to wilt momentarily. "According to both Annabeth and Frodo, Gandalf was 'saved' by the White Wizard, Saruman. He is now in chains at Isengard."
"Well, I am glad he is alive." said Gimli gruffly. He never was one to show much emotion, but inwardly he was rejoicing that his old friend wasn't dead. This was amazing news, but his joy was tempered by the knowledge that Gandalf was captured in one of the most secure dungeons in Middle Earth.
Legolas grinned happily at Gimli. "I feel like exploring this magnificent forest today with a friend. Will you come?"
Gimli gaped at him. Did the elf just call him a friend, and ask him to explore this cursed forest with him, no less? Gimli's head spun. Should he accept? Could he accept? On one hand, Legolas' offer seemed sincere; on the other hand, he had been brought up to distrust elves. He glanced suspiciously at Legolas. "And why would I want to walk through a huge, dull, uninteresting forest with hundreds of dwarf-hating elves with you?"
Legolas grinned .what was it with the endless grinning? Was Legolas 'high' or something? (Gimli had no idea what 'high' meant, but he had heard the demigods using it to describe people acting strangely). "Tell you what," Legolas smirked. "I'll make a deal with you. If you explore the forests of Lothlorien, Fangorn and Mirkwood with me, I will walk through the dull, rocky mines you dwarves seem to love with you."
Gimli was once again, dumbstruck for the third time in only ten minutes. Slowly, a smile spread onto his face, and he nodded to Legolas, extending his hand. "Deal, Friend Legolas."
They shook hands, elf and dwarf. The gap bridged for the first time in millennia. A truly historic moment.
(Too bad no one was there to see it. XD)
Later, to his surprise, Gimli found that he had actually enjoyed the time with Legolas. He had actually learned many new things about elves and forests(though he insisted the latter part was utterly useless). The elves of Lorien had been shocked at first, but seeing him in the company of an elf without glaring at them of threatening to hack at them, they had slowly warmed to him and had accepted him as a friend, some even smiling and shaking his hand. Gimli lay back down onto his bed, his head spinning. He stared at his hand, which had shook more than ten elf hands today, and remembered his earlier question. Could he really become friends with an elf? Could he really put aside his people's age-old prejudice? Gimli thought back to his walk in the forest. Yes. Maybe I can…maybe I can…
=o=o=o=o=o=o=o=o=o=o=o=o=o=o=o=o=o=o=o=o=o=o=o=o=o=o=o=o=o=o=o=o=o=o=o=o=
Again, not much action, but I wanted to develop further on the character bonding. Hopefully the character interaction was realistic. Please tell me what you think. This is the end of the chapter. The next chapter will be probably out next week. Probably. I have a busy schedule.
Anyway, I really hope you guys will review. It both encourages me and helps me improve. I need to know outside opinions. Here's a special challenge…
Also, if your review is a multiple of five. (105, 125, 130, 135…) you can ask a question which I will do my best to answer. Of course, it means that all guests have to put their pen names so that I can address them.
So, my question of the chapter…
What was the other part Annabeth was hiding?
This is my own challenge to you readers out there. Put your answers in reviews. The reviewer who gets it correct or which has the closest guess will receive a special reward!(which I wont reveal now…hee hee)
Bye guys!
PJcrazy signing out
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
SURPRISE!
BONUS!
AND BECAUSE ALL OF YOU ARE SUCH AWESOME READERS, AND BECAUSE OF ALL YOUR LOVELY REVIEWS, CONSIDER THIS A REWARD! I wasn't planning to put this in this chapter initially, but I felt you guys deserved it. All I ask in return are just reviews. ;)
=o=o=o=o=o=o=o=o=o=o=o=o=o=o=o=o=o=o=o=o=o=o=o=o=o=o=o=o=o=o=o=o=o=o=o=o=o=o=o=o=
Gandalf
Isengard dungeon
Gandalf lay back on the cold, damp, stone floor. He was in a cold, dark, dirty dungeon. He felt terrible. His whole body shivered with cold and damp, and whenever he moved, agony shot up his back and legs. The orcs had whipped him, leaving angry red stripes on every single part of the body. His grey robe was dirty and tattered; his long, grey beard was matted and clumped with dirt. And although he does not want to admit it, he felt powerless. His staff and sword had been taken by Saruman on the first day. He was helpless. There had been no need to chain him. He was too weak to even attempt an escape.
After he had been captured in Moria, Saruman had come to collect him. The White Wizard had been practically glowing with triumph and evil glee. He was roughly chained carried to Isengard on horseback. It had been a long and tiring journey, especially as drained and tired as he was, but Saruman had ignored his groans of pain, and he was even smiling. What had gone wrong with the former Istar? What had happened to change Saruman?
He had been taken to the tower Orthanc and taken to an underground dungeon. "No dramatic escapes by eagles now, eh Gandalf?" Saruman had smirked. Gandalf had been struck with horror at how dramatically Isengard had changed. Once a grand, tall tower with wide, verdant grounds surrounded by high walls, which were in turn surrounded by tall, majestic trees, it had all changed. The grounds had been hollowed out to make forges and more orcs. Fires burned continually, as orcs forged more and more weapons and armor. The great trees around Isengard had all been chopped for firewood to sustain the roaring fires in the forge. Isengard had become a forbidding, barren place. It struck Gandalf how closely this place now resembled Barad-Dur, the black fortress of Mordor. Saruman must have remodeled his tower to match the Dark Lord's.
Gandalf suffered in the dungeon. Without his staff, his power had been greatly reduced. The situation was dire enough already, but things got worse. The next day, Saruman had entered his cell with a huge Uruk-hai wielding a whip, which brought back unpleasant memories to him. Memories of fire and falling into shadow. Saruman had interrogated him harshly about his friends, the demigods. When he refused to talk, he had been tortured painfully. The treatment had gone on day after day, progressively intensifying. It had been a week now. Seven days of relentless flogging. Now, whenever he moved, the scars on his back would crack, and blood would run. It was agony. He had used what power he had left to try and soothe his wounds, but now he was spent.
The sound of footsteps roused him from his thoughts. He craned his neck painfully to look at the doorway. A familiar white figure stood at the doorway, looking at him contemptuously. "Well, how are we today?"
Gandalf shut his eyes wearily, ignoring the wizard in front of him. Here we go again…
Saruman gritted his teeth when he received no reply. "Look at me, Gandalf."
Gandalf gave no sign of having heard. He would not give him the satisfaction. He would NOT.
Fire flashed in Saruman's eyes. He jabbed his white staff towards Gandalf viciously. "I said, LOOK AT ME!" Gandalf stiffened as a wave of energy slammed into him, throwing him back against the wall. He felt nothing, he was beyond pain now. But streams of blood flowed from his newly reopened wounds. It was agony.
Saruman decided to utilize a different tack. "Look, Gandalf. I offered you an opportunity of a lifetime previously. An offer so great, by one so powerful…" he sneered at Gandalf."…one would have to be a fool to refuse it."
Gandalf snorted.
Saruman sighed theatrically. "But even now, Gandalf, my old friend…"
Gandalf snorted again.
Saruman's façade of kindness broke momentarily and he glared at him, then he composed himself and continued a bit tetchily. "I would offer it to you again. Think about it. You would be doubly foolish to reject it this time."
Gandalf spoke for the first time today. His voice was frail, and it broke at moments, but there was a strong undercurrent of resolve and determination. "And if I accept your generous offer? What would happen to me?"
Saruman smiled seraphically. "Why, you would become my partner! We would accomplish marvelous things together! And if it happens that blind fool Sauron becomes too overbearing, we kill him together!" he said it like it was the most obvious thing in Middle Earth.
Gandalf coughed hard. Flecks of blood flew from his mouth. he craned his head to glare at the smiling wizard."And if I refuse?".
Saruman's expression turned stony. "That would not be wise, Gandalf the Grey. I, the greatest wizard in Middle Earth, have chosen you to become my partner. Not that fool Radagast (the brown wizard. See "the hobbit") or the bumbling idiots Alatar or Pallando (the other two blue wizards. Mentioned in Tolkien's "unfinished tales"). I chose you! You should be honored!"
Gandalf had no energy left even to retort. "I will never join you, Curunir (Saruman's true name, the name of a Maia, it's a Sindarin word that roughly translates to "Man of Skill). Not even if you kill me." He said wearily.
Saruman flinched at Gandalf's use of his true name. He glared murderously at the pitiful grey figure hunched in the cell. "That name is not to be used by you, Olorin(rough translation. Dreamer or Prophet. One who sees the future)" he spat at Gandalf. He glared further, and then his entire demeanor changed. He smiled evilly. "As for killing you…," his eyes became narrowed slits of flint. "I just might." He pulled out a gnarled, twisted brown staff from behind him.
Gandalf gasped. It was his staff! But why would Saruman bring it… no… NO! The horrible realization of what he was about to do struck him. this could not be happening. he raised a feeble hand to Saruman. "No... don't!" he croaked.
Saruman's grin was positively evil. "They say an Istar's source of power is in his staff. They say that an Istar is a broken man if his staff is ever destroyed. I have always wondered if it was true. Let's test it, shall we?" he raised his knee and slammed the staff onto it as hard as he could. There was a blinding flash of light, and Gandalf screamed and writhed on the ground, oblivious to the fact that his scabs were tearing.
The light faded. Gandalf collapsed onto the ground, senseless. Saruman glanced at the two halves of the staff in his hands contemptuously, then sneered and threw the two halves onto the ground. The sticks rattled as they hit the floor. Saruman strode away, satisfied. Now, he thought, Gandalf is a broken man. It will not be soon until he tells me his secrets one by one.
=o=o=o=o=o=o=o=o=o=o=o=o=o=o=o=o=o=o=o=o=o=o=o=o=o=o=o=o=o=o=o=o=o=o=o=o=o=o=o=o=o=o=o=o=o=
DUN DUN DUN…
Please review and tell me what you think! I pray that I will get as many reviews as the last chapter. It's not that hard. Just tell me what you think. It's the only way I know how to improve. And you can include suggestions on what you want, or questions. Remember, every fifth question gets answered.
For the guests, at least type in a name so I can address your question in the next chapter.
Another big THANK YOU to my awesome Beta 1429012827 who has helped check my grammar and correct some mistakes. You are simply awesome.
To all readers…Thank you!
PJcrazy signing out
PEACE OUT