Note: As usual, some elements in this chapter are book canon and some AU.

Chapter 8: Words of Stone

The grove of trees in the woods above Dunharrow was dark, and shadows seemed to lurk behind every tree. The only sounds Aragorn could hear around him were the occasional scurrying of woodland animals, and more infrequently, the distant neighing of horses and the voices of the Rohirrim drifting up from the camp below; they were all waiting for more troops to come from all over Rohan, to ride to the aid of Gondor.

From somewhere deeper in the woods came the sound of water: a gentle fall that reminded Aragorn of the pool above Helm's Deep, where he spent those wonderful hours alone with Legolas, each knowing the other's need to hold him close. The memory alone warmed Aragorn and awoke a fire in his veins. They had not encroached beyond that unnamed limit, but just being in each other's arms had been enough to give them strength to go on. There was still much to be done for the freedom of Middle-earth.

Aragorn sighed. The freedom of Middle-earth was the very reason he was sitting here in this grove. Alone. Away from Theoden and Eomer and the Rohirrim in the camp down there. Away from Legolas, Gandalf, Gimli, Pippin and Merry, who must be sitting around one of the fires somewhere below. He was alone. Alone with the object wrapped in a piece of rough cloth, sitting on a tree stump in front of him.

He had wanted a chance to challenge the power Sauron and Saruman wielded over Middle-earth, and here it was.

It had come sooner than he expected, and of all the people who could have given it to him, it was the most unexpected – the hobbit Pippin – who had handed it to the Ranger. For it was the hobbit who had picked up the palantir, the Seeing Stone that had been in Saruman's possession, when Grima Wormtongue had flung it out of Saruman's tower at Isengard. Grima must have been hoping to hit someone with it when he threw it out – it could have been any one of the group gathered below the balcony: Theoden, Eomer, Gandalf, Aragorn, Legolas, Gimli, Merry, or Pippin. But his aim had not been accurate and the Stone had fallen into the water that flooded the tower and blocked Saruman's means of escape.

Pippin had retrieved it from the watery depths, and Gandalf had snatched it from the hobbit, knowing how dangerous the Stone could be. Leaving the Ents to guard Saruman in his tower, the group had ridden back to Edoras. Safe the Stone would have remained in Gandalf's hands – if Pippin had not given in to his reckless curiosity and stolen it from the wizard during the night. He had even looked into it, seen the Eye of the Enemy – and almost died from the experience.

But as fate sometimes works, it worked that night to show the Fellowship some of Sauron's plans: Pippin had seen the White Tree of Gondor, burning, and he had seen a fleet of Black Ships sailing towards Minas Tirith. And then the Eye had seen Pippin and questioned him, thinking that this was the Halfling who had the Ring. And Sauron now knew that Saruman was trying to wrest power from him, for it was the wizard's Stone through which he was connecting with the hobbit.

Who could blame Gandalf for making an immediate decision to ride to Minas Tirith at first light, to warn them? And who could blame Gandalf for deciding to take Pippin with him, to keep him out of further trouble?

Yes, they would ride tomorrow, but tonight… tonight, the future King of Gondor saw a chance to challenge Sauron himself.

The Enemy already thinks it is Pippin who carries the Ring, Aragorn thought. Let him see me now – let him know I live, that I pose a threat to his plans to take Gondor. And let him busy himself with fears about us – so that he does not even have a shadow of a suspicion about the Truth: that the Ring is being carried into his realm by another hobbit. Let him look to us here, so that he has no time to look for something closer to him.

Once he had decided that, Aragorn took a deep breath, and reached out to the Stone. Both his hands tensed and paused above the bundle as he remembered Gandalf's warning.

"The Stone is a dangerous tool to handle," Gandalf had once said. "If you cannot master it, it will master you. And even if you can master it, there is no telling how it will affect you. See what it has done to Saruman!"

Aragorn grimaced. If Gandalf were to know what he was doing now, the wizard might not approve of it. But he was of the line of Numenor, and he was one of the rightful owners of the Seeing Stones. He had to try to wrest the power back from Saruman.

With that resolve, and with his lips set firmly in a straight line, he reached out to the cloth-covered bundle and unwrapped it.

--xx00xx--

Legolas and Gandalf sat around silently by a fire outside one of the tents set aside for the members of the Fellowship. A little distance away, Gimli, Pippin and Merry were busy chatting and eating with the few elves who had remained with them. Rumil and Orophin were among them; they had decided to ride on to Gondor, to continue aiding the Fellowship so that their brother would not have died in vain.

"Gandalf," Legolas called softly to the wizard.

"Hrmph," the wizard responded absently as he often did. His mind was on Minas Tirith and what he would need to do when he got there. He looked up when the elf called his name and saw Legolas' eyes – glittering in the firelight – trained on something high above the camp. He followed the elf's line of vision and saw what had attracted his attention.

"What is that light coming from the woods up there?" Legolas asked, suddenly feeling a little uneasy. All evening, he had noticed the absence of Aragorn, and no one had been able to say where the man was. The elf had felt a little disheartened, for these were dangerous times, and he did not like it when Aragorn was out of his sight.

"Where is Aragorn?" he asked now, looking around, his uneasiness mounting.

Gandalf remained silent, watching the light flicker in the woods. A suspicion grew in his mind, and he got up suddenly.

--xx00xx--

"You cannot trust everything the Stone shows you," Gandalf had said once. "But it does not lie. What it shows will come to pass."

With that reminder in his head, Aragorn placed his hands on the globe.

--xx00xx--

Rising from his seat as well, Legolas saw the wizard stride quickly to his tent, and a sense of fear gripped him. He watched the waxing and waning light a while longer, but when he heard Gandalf rummaging about inside the tent, he walked towards it as well.

From where he was, Rumil saw the movement of the two companions, and sensing something amiss, he hurried over to where Legolas was.

Gandalf pushed aside the tent flap just as Legolas and Rumil drew up, and emerged, looking worried. Legolas swallowed and found his throat suddenly dry.

"What – ?" he began.

"Come," the wizard cut in, and without waiting for the elves, began walking towards the path at the back of the camp that would take them up to the woods from which the light was coming.

--xx00xx--

A dead white tree in a courtyard of stone. Minas Tirith. The White City was burning, just as Pippin had seen it.

The scene clouded over and all went black. Then from the black nothingness came a flame, and the flame grew till it covered the whole globe.

And then the flame took shape. A great Eye, lidless, wreathed in fire.

It roamed, looking right and left, searching… searching… till it saw that it was not alone.

There were Eyes seeking it too. Grey, steely eyes, as cool as It was hot. As calm as It was turbulent.

It had seen Aragorn – heir of Isildur, heir of the one who had cut the Ring from his finger. Aragorn: alive, strong, determined, and utterly threatening.

With a ferocious flare, it sent forth its power, struggling for mastery of the Stone, trying to break the will of the Numenorean heir.

The globe clouded over again, and another scene appeared: Black ships, a fleet of black ships on a river, and then the scene shifted, and Minas Tirith appeared, burning.

The sweat flowed down from Aragorn's brow, across his eyes and down the sides of his face in little rivulets. He blinked.

You cannot frighten me this way. We will stop your ships. We will find a way.

The Eye appeared again; its flare was so fierce and so sudden that the roar could almost be heard.

Suddenly, all was dark again.

Aragorn let out the breath he was holding. His hands shivered a little. But just as he was about to remove them from the Stone, another scene appeared. Like the slow breaking of day at dawn, it grew brighter, and brighter, till all was clear.

Rumil stood in some woody grove – suspiciously like this one – with a smile and a hopeful, longing look on his handsome face. His hands were held out, and resting in his upturned palms, with his thumbs stroking them, was another pair of hands, fair and slender and smooth.

Aragorn stiffened and swallowed, his hands gripping the Stone, his eyes riveted on the scene. He knew those hands!The owner could not be seen, but Aragorn knew those beloved hands.

Rumil's eyes were shining as he focused – very obviously – on someone in front of him: the one whose hands he held. The Lorien elf's lips moved to form a question, asked with a sweet smile.

And though nothing was actually voiced, Aragorn could hear everything in his head as clearly as if the words had been uttered aloud:

Will you bond with me, Legolas?

Aragorn sucked in a breath and gripped the Stone harder. He felt a little faint, and was tempted to fling the Stone to the ground, but he struggled to maintain control of himself. He could hardly breathe as he watched the scene continue to unfold.

Now there was just Legolas, standing in the same place – a beautiful smile gracing his fair face. He was holding out his hands as well, and with tears of joy in his shining eyes, he parted the soft elven lips and spoke.

And like before, Aragorn knew exactly what was being said. The future king of Gondor thought he would die when he heard, through the power of the Stone, the words from Legolas' lips that drove through his heart like a hundred knives:

My heart is already yours... Yes, I will bond with you.