Oh, just a quick note: in case anyone starts wondering about time and distance, the jumps between character-groups do not always go to direct "meanwhiles," sometimes they'll head to different times. I just realized that I wasn't very clear about that, and I don't want anyone confused about how character X got from point A to point C while character Y is still going from point B to A or whatever…yeah, now that that's hopefully clear enough that no one can possibly be confused, enjoy!

Chapter Four

Gimli awoke, suddenly, wondering where he was and why. Then his sore joints reminded him: he had spent the day perched precariously behind the Elf on the back of a four-legged demon. He groaned, and immediately regretted the noise. He heard the Elf's soft song pause, and while he couldn't hear the light footfalls on the grass, he knew Legolas was walking over to stand above him. Stubbornly, Gimli squeezed his eyes shut, trying to be asleep.

"Good morning, Master Gimli." The Dwarf ignored the bright voice. "Come, dawn is growing and the road is waiting." Gimli snuggled himself deeper into his bedroll. If he ignored it, maybe he could get lucky—for the first time since he had met the dratted prince—and the Elf would go away. He was just beginning to think it might work when a light, swift foot darted in to nudge him (a little too sharply, Gimli thought) in the side.

It succeeded in jolting the Dwarf's eyes open. He sat up sputtering in anger, but the Elf—laughing gaily—had already danced out of reach. Gimli sighed, but now that he was obviously awake, he had no choice but to get up. Grumbling, he started packing up his bedroll. He saw that Éowyn was almost done assembling a trail breakfast for them, and Legolas had everything save the cooking utensils and Gimli's bedding already secured to the waiting horses.

"I still don't see why we couldn't have stopped in Minas Tirith," the Dwarf grumbled unhappily. "We were within minutes of the city. And the princess will probably have doubled in size so that we will not even recognize the child on our return."

Éowyn smiled over at him. "We already discussed that, my Lord Gimli, and decided neither to take up the King's time nor our own just then. We shall visit with them rather upon our return, when we can tarry with no pricks of conscious for keeping Faramir waiting."

Gimli scowled. "You mean you and the Elf discussed it," he pointed out grumpily. "I was too occupied in avoiding getting thrown from that creature's backside to discuss much of anything."

Éowyn hid a smile and returned to breakfast. If the Dwarf was complaining about journeying on horseback, all was right with the world.

…………….

After a brief breakfast that Gimli took as long on as he feasibly could without garnering barbs from the Elf, they were off again. Gimli was far from looking forward to the next few days. The only good thing he could see was that both his companions were skilled enough at the unholy art of horse-riding that they could proceed at a fast pace. This was a mixed blessing in Gimli's eyes, for while the less time he spent on horseback the better, he much preferred that unenviable position when the horse was going slow to when it was going fast. Fast was, Gimli thought, when on the back of a horse, a very, very bad thing.

…………….

Faramir couldn't shake a strange feeling of foreboding as he rode through the scattered tents and ramshackle buildings of the Outer City. He supposed it was probably just the reaction of a Gondorian used to the trim, carefully fashioned stone cities of his country, when encountering the rough disarray around him. Even in the wilderness, his Ranger camps had always been orderly and particularly maintained. The casual chaos of this thrown-together jumble of shabbily erected shelters was alien to the Prince of Ithilien.

He looked around at the men riding with him and saw that the members of the White Company were as uncomfortable in their strange surroundings as he was. He opened his mouth to reassure them, but had no time to speak—suddenly, they were under attack!

The men reacted, for all their merchant garb, as trained soldiers of Gondor. Swords flashed in the sunlight and horses wheeled, throwing off their ambushers. Egalmoth drew first blood, stabbing one of the attackers in the shoulder, but the narrow streets and greater numbers favored those who fought on foot as they swarmed around Faramir and his men. Herion was dragged from his horse, which reared in panic. Turgon beheaded the foe that was about to run the de-horsed man through, but then another attacker slashed his sword arm.

Faramir wheeled his mount to go to the man's aid, but before he could reach him he felt a sudden burst of pain from his side. One of the ambushers had swung himself up behind the Steward, and sunk a dagger into his side. The man was scrabbling for Faramir's throat when the Gondorian suddenly felt him go stiff. He toppled from the horse, Beregond's blade in his back. Faramir nodded to his guards' captain and turned back to the fray. It was obvious in a glance that it would not end well, but no son of Gondor was going to surrender. Swords and daggers flashed and blood mixed with yells from both sides.

One of those yells caught Faramir's attention over the clash of battle: "Don't kill the Prince! We need him alive to get—" The man's cry ended in a gurgle as Egalmoth slit his throat. The cold feeling in Faramir's gut solidified into ice.

"To Gondor!" he yelled. "Break for Gondor, any who can! Ride out! The King must be warned! To Gondor!" The attackers were swarming them all, but were concentrated around the Steward. He saw that Beregond and Turgon were on the edge of the fighting, turning to battle their way back to the prince's side. "To Gondor!" he ordered, ignoring the disbelieving look that flashed over their faces at being ordered to abandon the man whom they were sworn to protect. "That's an order! Warn the King! Go—go now! Ride to—" a blow caught the side of Faramir's head, and the world went dark.

…………….

Aragorn stroked the dark, silken hair of the tiny child, smiling gently. The cares and troubles that lined his strong face smoothed, and years of mortal life seemed to fall away from him—for a moment. With a sigh, the Gondorian king turned away from the sleeping babe. He was waiting when the runner peeked around the door discretely. Aragorn nodded for the man to rise and enter, but motioned for him to be quiet.

His voice pitched low, the man related the news he brought. "Sire, the Lady Éowyn has departed Emyn Arnen. With her went the Lords Legolas and Gimli." Aragorn waited, assuming that there was something more to tell; there was little surprise that the three of them should ride out somewhere, although he wondered that they had not stopped in Minas Tirith for a farewell. Perhaps they were only going on a brief trip to enjoy the road. But that did not explain the man's anxiety, or hesitation. He took a breath before continuing: "Their destination, my lord, is Ostad."

Aragorn's eyebrows lifted. "Are you certain of this?"

The man nodded. "It seems the Lady Éowyn received a missive from Prince Faramir bidding her to join him." He eyed his king in confusion, wondering why Faramir—allegedly seeing to the beacons of Gondor—should be in Ostad, let alone be sending for his wife to join him.

Aragorn frowned. There was no reason for Faramir to bring Éowyn to Ostad—not with the mission he was there to do. The blonde lady of Rohan would stand out there, especially as the wife of a "Gondorian merchant" scouting the city for trading opportunities…to say nothing of the attention a Dwarf and an Elf would garner! No, Aragorn decided quickly, Faramir would never have sent for Éowyn, least of all without first contacting Aragorn and explaining why he wished for her aid. There had to be another explanation for their journey; perhaps someone bent on causing trouble for him, or trying to draw his attention away from another occurrence? But were they truly heading to Ostad, or was someone only trying to distract him by leading him to believe that they were? He needed to get better information before he took action. But he did know one thing.

Something is very wrong here, he decided. "Send a rider to Emyn Arnen and make certain of this. Bring me the letter if it can be found." The man bowed and exited.

Now all Aragorn had to do was figure out exactly what was wrong—and what to do about it…

…………….

Gimli was half-dozing behind the Elf now that the horses had found a smooth pace on the Great West Road. Éowyn was in the lead, having recently ended a brief gallop of exhilaration. Legolas's sharp Elf eyes had been able to see her and their surroundings clearly as she rode ahead, so there had been no reason to disturb the Dwarf with an overly fast pace—not so long as he kept her within bow's-reach, just to be safe. He had urged Holdwyn to gradually catch up after Windfola slowed.

The Elf shifted his mount back to a walk and turned around abruptly. Shading his bright eyes from the afternoon sun with a slim hand, he looked back to Minas Tirith. His Elven-sight let him pick out the city even at the distance of nearly two days' steady riding. He searched the small speck that was the White City, but saw nothing to explain his strange foreboding. He stared a moment more, then shrugged and turned away. It was only the vaguest sense of unease, and while Legolas trusted his insights and feelings he did not possess the power of foresight gifted to the greatest of his people. And so, feeling no dire tug towards Gondor, and trusting that there was little Aragorn could not handle, and what he could not he would send for aid for, he turned away and sped Holdwyn to catch up with Windfola and continue their travels.

…………….

Arwen's footfalls were as silent as any Elf's. Only the faint rustle of Gondorian silk betrayed her presence to Aragorn. He smiled but did not turn from the balcony. Her voice, when she spoke, was the soft sound of twilight, low, soothing. "What troubles you, my love?"

Aragorn was silent, not wishing to burden her with it. She laid a hand on his arm, and he was reminded that for all her delicate beauty and grace, she was of the Eldar, the first people, and had all the strength and wisdom such years bring. She could likely face more strife or troubles than could he without bowing. She would neither allow him to, nor forgive him for, trying to spare her.

He sighed again, then spoke quietly. "I fear there is some problem in Ostad. Faramir was to send secret word back to me when he was safely secured within, but I have heard nothing. In truth, I should not expect word so early, but I learn that Éowyn rode out this morning, with Legolas and Gimli, for Ostad—apparently at Faramir's bidding."

"Faramir would not send to her," Arwen shook her head.

"I know."

Arwen spoke with the calmness of her people, although her own foresight said nothing. "They ride to danger."

"I know," said Aragorn in frustration. "I am sure of it, although I cannot say how or why." He scowled at the dark hills in the distance. "If Ostad is indeed their destination, it is unlikely they will ever reach it. I know the 'traders' have spies and guards surrounding the wretched place," he explained to Arwen's silent question. "Yet even if they do come safely to the city, they will never be permitted to enter."

"Cannot Éowyn be overtaken by one riding hard?"

Aragorn shook his head glumly. "If a man in Gondor's insignia scours the paths to Anórien, he will like be intercepted—or at least spotted—by Ostad's guards, thus doubly endangering both Faramir and those we search for…and without such devices, he would never be able to catch them. Legolas would notice him from too far off, and they would move to avoid the stranger." Aragorn frowned sightlessly at the white towers below him, no longer so pleased that Legolas and Gimli were with Éowyn. "We took such cares to keep his journey secret. I don't understand how anyone learned of it…" he murmured to himself. "That elaborate ruse, so none of their spies in the city would suspect…"

"It could be coincidence," Arwen said neutrally. "Knowing that negotiations have broken down, perhaps it was merely an agitator, intending only to use Éowyn's presence there to cause difficulties."

"One of those 'factions' I have to deal with?" Aragorn sighed.

"It could be someone from Ostad; 'tis not necessarily a Gondorian dissenter," Arwen pointed out diplomatically.

"Yet you also fear it is something more dire than mere mischief," Aragorn said. It was not a question. He stared at the stars, seeking an explanation. Arwen patted his arm in sympathy, then paused.

Her dark eyes narrowed in sudden thought for a long moment. "Things will have changed 'ere nightfall gives way to morning," she said slowly.

Aragorn spun to face her. "What have you foreseen?" he asked eagerly.

Arwen closed her eyes in concentration, then shook her head. "Nothing," she sighed. "It is gone."

Aragorn's shoulders slumped. "And I can see nothing at all."

Arwen took his hand and drew him gently from the balcony. "Come to sleep, my lord. You had best find some rest early, for I fear you will be awake long before the night is ended."

Aragorn frowned into the distance one last time before allowing himself to be pulled away. "I wish only that I knew whether to rejoice at that thought, or rail…"

…………….

The round moon bathed the White City in a cold silver light as Gondor slept. Yet not all of Minas Tirith was wrapped in slumber. The city gates were lit with the pale orange glow of torchlights, giving colored testament to the confrontation at the edge of the city. While those awake kept their tones hushed in efforts to avoid disturbing the rest of the city, they failed in one case.

The King of Gondor, a dark cloak thrown loosely over his nightrobe, had rushed from his chambers, his Ranger senses, long unused but far from discarded, having awoken him instantly. His unlaced boots clattering on the stones, the man named Wingfoot had reached the gate as the three cloaked figures, having finally established their need and right of entrance to the sentries, stumbled through the gateway. Two tall figures in cloaks of gray supported a shorter, staggering one between them. That one collapsed just as Aragorn reached them, falling to the ground at the king's feet.

One of the standing figures spoke a short word to the two horses behind them—"tolo"—and they obediently trotted forward.

"Elessar," the other spoke hurriedly in hushed tones, "it is good you are awake, for I fear our tidings cannot wait until morning." They lifted their half-conscious companion, and the man's head lolled back, revealing his face in the flickering torchlight.

"Beregond!" Aragorn exclaimed in shock.

"Come," said the son of Elrond, "this man needs care, but he will refuse it, I am sure, until you hear his words."

A cold dread gripped Aragorn's heart as he silently led the brothers and their burden through his sleeping city…

…………….

"…we tended his injuries as best we could," Elrohir continued the tale while Beregond slept, his king gently unwrapping the stained bandages. The man had refused any attention until he had told Aragorn how Faramir and the White Company had been ambushed. His duty finally seen to, he had slipped into unconsciousness, and the Elven brothers had picked up the narrative from the point where they had entered it by finding the half-dead man staggering towards Minas Tirith. "Neither of us possess our father's skill at healing—nor indeed even your own—but we are yet somewhat versed in it."

"Beregond did but briefly allow us pause to care for him, however," Elladan added, "granting even the time he did most grudgingly when we convinced him that if he died 'ere reaching Minas Tirith 'twould be all effort for naught, and failing his prince besides. He is a valiant man," the Elf added softly.

Elrohir nodded agreement, then continued their story. "We rode without pause, save once when the horses so shook with exhaustion that they could not go on, whereupon we rested for them briefly. I fear the pace 'twas not good for the man, but he would not relent. In truth, we did not press him to slow overmuch, for we agreed on the necessity. This news is not the sort to be brought slowly."

Elladan's bright eyes narrowed on Aragorn's face. "Yet I gather 'tis not entirely unsuspected, for I see less surprise on thy face than I should. What knew you of these tidings, 'ere we came to give them?"

Aragorn shook his head wearily. "I knew naught, but distrusted that all was well, from what I know of occurrences here." Now it was the brothers' turn to listen as Aragorn, in a voice hoarse with tiredness and worry, related the departure of Éowyn and the strange letter that had called her hence…

Reviewer Responses:

Deana – sorry I made you wait so long! At least I warned you ahead of time…

Aranna – well, I'm very sorry to hear that. It's Sindarin, and that coincidence is really cool. And—gah! Gah! Finger, agh! Heal, get better, be all better, eek! If I dreamed, I would so have nightmares about what will happen next time I work with my xacto knife… I hope you're all better now!

ForeverFaramir – Bwahaha! Keep thinking; as you can tell now, you're on the right track! And I'm glad you like the pacing, I keep worrying that it might be getting too drawn out, but there's a lot of set-up to cover and…well, I just really appreciate hearing that it's working. Thank you!

Laiquendi – Trouble looming, eh? Now why would you think that I wonder… ;)

Templa Otmena – Impressive…most impressive. But you're not a lurker yet—YAY! Down with lurking:P Hee hee, don't worry about it, really! Fire extinguisher, maybe? Watch for sparks… Beautiful evil laugh, beautiful! Just keep your hands and arms inside the ride and please make sure that your loose items are accounted for. Thank you! blows kiss!

Avalon – Oh, you think you've seen dense? The Elf and the Dwarf would like to state that they aren't nearly as dense as the Men are going to be when they finally show up…although they do agree with you that Men are dense. Yep, gotta have the obligatory musical number, dontcha? Thanks, you rock too! Love your Eighth Age bit, keep writing!

Lil Pippin Padfoot – I'm sorry to hear that your toes aren't agile enough for the feat. And I'm so glad you like it! Tee, yes, I tend to jump perspective a lot, especially this chapter. Helps with timing methinks…that, and I honestly don't know how people stick to one viewpoint for a long time when they have lots of interweaving groups running around and a million things happening (coughThundera-who-needs-to-get-back-to-the-Elf-and-Dwarf-in-LoLaScough) ahem! Anyway, I'm really glad that you're liking it, seriousness and all. ;)

flowerbee1 – I'm Tolkienesque! I'm Tolkienesque! does a great big happy ewok dance! And, er…let's never mention such idiocy on my part again. Well, unless I do something like that again. Then mention it. Please! Yeah…um…more bribery! Here, have more nutella!

EastCoastie – Reverse psychol…oh...bugger. You looked, eh? Well, I guess you'd know by now anyway, what with me whacking him upside the head a few paragraphs ago… Ergh, I'll go through and fix those…I always try to be so careful checking for them, too…grr… Yep, everybody has to love the Elf and Dwarf! Oh, and the other is either Exploring Darkness or Shadows Creeping so I guess you just sort of twisted and combined them and don't worry, my memory is awful too, so I'm always happy to help out others! Aw, and get well soon! Lots of orange juice—I swear, I practically have a Vitamin C iv right now trying to stay healthy… Hot tea with honey, it's my panacea!

Jebb – Saddled with horse lovers, hee hee…sorry, pun-alert… Poor Gimli indeed:)

I just want to thank everyone once again for the lovely feedback. It looks like I'll hopefully be able to keep this one to a weekly update schedule, but that's about it. So…see you next week, same time, same channel?

…Actually I don't know about the time, really. The quote just required me to say that. But it should be sometime between Thursday afternoon and Friday evening, usually, that I manage to get the update out. Anyway, it'll be sometime over the week-end, that ought to be specific enough. So…until next episode, at whatever time that shall be! Hey, I don't even do commercials, what more do you want? ;)

Okay, lots of formatting trouble this time with punctuation. I don't know what's up...I think I caught it all, but if you see anything funky it probably means I mixed correcting it, let me know so I can do so! Thanks!