Bonjour, my lovely readers! Extreme apologies for making you wait two weeks and then some. I was expecting my first week home to be all relaxing and stuff, but it turns out while I was gone all these things had been planned (which I needed to be part of), so I've been pretty busy. But, either way, I'm back now and excited to continue the story. Thanks!
Disclaimer: Je ne possed pas "Lord of the Rings." Rough translation - I DON'T OWN LORD OF THE RINGS.
Chapter 49 Recap:
"With our combined efforts, I swear she will become whatever the dark lord requires," the wraith bowed.
"See that it happens, at this point we cannot let her be our enemy. She could be our greatest weapon next to the Ring." The Mouth turned back to Abigail. "Until then, we will repeat this little session later." Then he walked out.
The wraith left the room, but still stood guard outside her door, ready to administer pain at any given moment.
"Someone…help me," Abigail whispered in despair, a single, warm tear falling down her cheek.
Chapter 50:
The ride to Dunharrow was fairly easy and quiet. The anxiousness of battle had not yet settled into the Rohirrim, but all knew the fateful day was coming.
Anxiousness did not spare Aragorn. Every step closer to Gondor he felt the growing weight.
'Is the pressure of my responsibility's finally getting to me?' he wondered. He thought back to what Éowyn told him the day they left Edoras.
"The men have found their captain. They will follow you into battle, even to death. You have given us hope."
'Hope. Estel. That would be my name, wouldn't it?' Aragorn thought, almost scoffing.
He didn't understand why he was looked upon in such an honored way. These men had a king, and they had already had Éomer as their captain. Aragorn was practically a stranger still.
'But you're a king too, if you would let them see,' his conscience rattled him.
Suddenly, Aragorn was snapped out of his thoughts as the bustling sounds of a campsite came to his attention. They had reached Dunharrow. Currently they were only in a green pasture, but the looming cliff side lay just ahead.
Soldiers were bustling here and there, making food, shelter, packing or working on weapons. These were the final preparations.
Aragorn urged Brego, his horse, into a faster walk until he was closer to Théoden's side.
"Grimbold how many?" the king cried out.
"I bring 500 men from the Westfold, my lord," replied an armored man.
"We have 300 more from Fenmarch, Théoden King," another soldier responded.
"Where are the riders from Snowbourn?" Théoden asked, observing the campsite and its occupants.
"None have come, my lord," the soldier said regretfully.
Théoden frowned slightly for a moment, but soon hid it.
"Very well," he said, "We camp atop the Dunharrow. I will expect a full report later today."
"Yes, my lord. Hail, Théoden King!" The men bowed, and then left.
"Legions are failing to even show up. This is not a good sign," Legolas whispered to Aragorn.
"I know," Aragorn answered simply. He said nothing more as they rode back of forth slowly up the side of the cliff.
When they reached the top and were set up for the night, Aragorn went to go talk to Théoden, who standing at the edge, looking down.
"Six-thousand spears, less than half of what I'd hoped for," he said, somewhat dismayed.
"Six-thousand will not be enough to break the lines of Mordor," Aragorn replied, matching the sullen tone.
Théoden suddenly smiled hopefully. "More will come, give it time." He turned away but Aragorn stopped him gently.
"I am sorry to say we do not have the luxury of much time, my lord. Every hour lost hastens Gondor's defeat. We have till dawn, then we must ride," Aragorn stressed.
There was a second of silence.
"Yes, I will agree with you," Théoden said slowly, and then walked to his tent.
Aragorn peered down again at the sea of tents in the ravine.
'A small sea,' he mused, 'but a trickle of help, nonetheless.'
Behind him, the ranger noticed the panicked neigh of the horses. He walked over to see what was happening.
"The horses are restless and the men are quiet," Legolas observed, trying to calm down one of the rearing horses.
"They grow nervous in the shadow of the mountain," Éomer said darkly.
Gimli came over quietly. "That rode there. Where does that lead?" the dwarf asked.
He was pointing to a clouded crack in the mountain. But as you looked closer the crack turned into a long, narrow path. The path was leading somewhere, but at the same time it disappeared into nowhere.
"It is the rode to the Dimholt," Legolas spoke cautiously. "The door under the mountain."
"None who venture there ever return. That mountain is evil," Éomer nodded.
"Then whose brilliant idea was it to make a campsite here," Gimli muttered.
Aragorn watched the Dimholt road from the back. He was about to look away when something caught his eye. At first he thought is was his mind playing tricks on him, but as he looked harder he saw some thin, almost green smoke form into faces. No, it was a skeleton, and it was smiling right at him.
His breath was caught in his throat, and suddenly he was reminded of Gandalf's words.
Flashback
"Do you wish to explain your troubles to an old man?"
Aragorn sighed. "I have many troubles, all which I could share with you."
"Pick one, to start with," Gandalf said simply, and took a seat at a table.
Aragorn remained standing. "You said Sauron knows the 'Heir of Elendil' has returned. But I am still uncertain if I accept that title."
"The title does not matter, Aragorn. The true fact is that you will be a leader of men in these final days. Whether you want the title or not, you are an inspiration and I believe you are most ready for this task."
"If what you say is true, should I not ride with you to Minas Tirith?"
"No," Gandalf said strongly, shaking his head. "You must come to Minas Tirith by another road. Follow the river and look to the black ships."
End Flashback
"Follow the river…" Aragorn muttered to himself.
He tried to picture a map of Middle Earth from his studies. The closest river he knew of was the River Entwash, which ran through much of Rohan.
'But they're would be no black ships on Entwash. And any other rivers would be…on the other side of the mountain.'
Aragorn stared again at the Dimholt. The green smoke was gone, and now he was filled with wonder. He took a step forward-
"Aragorn!" He was interrupted. He looked quickly and saw Gimli standing in front of him.
"Let's find some food," the dwarf grumbled.
Aragorn, deciding he could think more later, followed.
OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo
Abigail, worn-out and battered, was still chained to the wall in what she just called the dungeon.
The interrogation sessions had continued, as promised by The Mouth of Sauron. Her will to not speak and betray the fellowship continued. She didn't know if it was because of her determination, or just plain stubbornness.
Thankfully, The Mouth hadn't tried to probe her mind again, but she also remembered that they were going to try to turn her to the darkness, and her mind was the only defense she had.
Though, with almost no food, sleep and only small amounts of Mordor's pathetic excuse for water, her mind was weakening.
The morning felt like any other. The windowless cell was cold and dirty. But soon she noticed the absence of a usual presence. Her Nazgûl guard, who she now assumed to be of a general ranking, was missing. Instead, standing before her, was the Mouth of Sauron.
"Well, you're here earlier than usual. To what do I owe the pleasure?" she said hoarsely.
The Mouth gave her a hellish grin. "The pleasure is mine, my lady. I bring good tidings."
"Since when do you call me my lady? And I doubt there are any good tidings in this pit of despair," she countered.
"Pit of despair…how fitting," the Mouth continued to smile. "And I decided the soon to be 'Lady of Darkness' deserved some respect."
"L-lady of Darkness?" she stuttered. "What are you talking about?"
"The Nine are assembled and the judgment day for man is approaching. It is time you fulfilled your purpose," he said.
"No," Abigail whispered. "No! I will not become Sauron's pawn!" she shouted forcefully.
In a panic she tried to throw the Mouth back with her power, but he muttered and incantation and suddenly, her own force was thrown back at her.
Her back slammed against the wall.
'It's not possible. Only I control my power,' she thought, worried and pale.
"I've told you time and time again, this is not your choice. You underestimate the dark magic. Even a powers such as yours can be tamed by the mighty lord Sauron."
"My lord," a goblin stepped in, bowing lowly. "The Witch-King requests a word with you."
The Mouth began to leave, but turned around to her for a moment.
"Enjoy your last moment of this pitiful life. Soon, a new day dawns for you, and you will never be the same."
And with that, he left, slamming the door behind him.
"Is this really it? This is where Abigail dies and their 'Lady of Darkness' is born?" she said softly.
She needed to do something, anything.
There was something Abigail has always wanted to try, a theory of hers.
Obviously, her mind was more powerful than your average human. And all she had ever used that power for was telekinesis. But, what if her mind could perform another power.
She had always wondered if she was capable of telepathy as well. This was going to be her last chance to try.
There was only one person she wanted to contact, and she hoped her would listen.
Attempting to stay as calm as possible, Abigail breathed in and out slowly and focused all her thoughts on one name.
"Aragorn."
OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo
And yes, I'm stopping here for now. This chapter isn't over, and I plan to write more. But in about 15 minutes, I'm leaving for camp. I'll only be gone for a week, but I need to think a lot about this story.
I'm sorry, I know this is very poor planning, but I tried writing this chapter a couple times and this is all I've got. I'll try to finish this chapter (by hand) while I'm gone and I'll type and post immediately upon my return.
I have nothing else planned for the rest of the summer, and there is only about 10 chapters (maybe less) remaining. This story will be finished soon.
I don't blame you if you're all angry right now. I've been a really bad author lately. But when I'm finally home for good I'll be able to focus and finish this all up.
I'll see you in 6 days, and I beg you all to be patients and understanding.
Until next time.
-MysticNight9