ASHLEY
"You're a cop, not Batman," I laugh, Andi rolling her eyes with a smile. "Anyways, I bet you won't last a week until you Taser someone just 'cause you feel like it."
"I'll last more than a week," she scoffs, setting down the Styrofoam cup of hot coffee, the complete opposite of my strawberry shake. It's funny how different Andi, Kharl, and I are to be so close. She loves horses, dragons, and The Hunger Games; he loves easy women, Twilight, and cheap take out; I love Cocker Spaniels, fantasy, and Harry Potter. So many things to compare and contrast between the three of us, but the thing that keeps us all together is a friendship that was forged back in Pre-K. The funniest thing about our meeting was that Andrea and I were fighting within seconds and Kharl had cheered me on until the three of us were sent to the principal's office.
"Pippin," Merry shouts, making me jerk awake with a gasp. Pippin holds the palantír tightly in his hands, sinking to his knees and then to his back. "Help, somebody help him!" Just as I get to my feet to run to the little Hobbit, Adar rushes into the room and wrenches the palantír from Pippin, spinning backwards as though someone had socked him in the jaw and dropping the orb. It rolls across the floor stopping at my feet. Despite the absolute horror I felt about it, I slowly reach down to touch it, my fingers barely brushing the surface when Haldir tackles me to the ground.
My back arches as agony rushes through me, the fingers that touched the palantír feeling as though they were on fire. I open my mouth to scream, but nothing can come out except a breathless sound as the air whooshes out of my lungs. I'm left lying on the ground, paralyzed for a moment as the Eye comes into my vision, demanding answers I didn't have about Andi and Sam. Finally, I'm freed from its hold, sobbing in Haldir's arms.
"It's alright," he whispers to me," I have you, Mel." I grip the front of his tunic in my hands so tightly that my knuckles went white.
"I saw it," I sob," it's looking for Andi. It—it wants her dead!" Shaking, I look over my shoulder to see how Adar and Pippin were fairing; Pip is being helped to sit up by Gandy while Adar is being supported by Legolas. "He's going to kill us all if we're not quick and he'll be all the happier for it." I move as close as possible to Haldir, squeezing my eyes closed as I fight to control my breathing. Kharl's passed out who knows where with my asthma pills, so there'll be no time to look for him if I go into a full on attack.
"Ashley," Gandalf asks softly, kneeling next to me. "What is it you saw?"
"Death," I whisper, the loudest I could get," destruction, the usual bad guy plot, but so much worse. He'd use Andi until she was twisted beyond any reckoning and all who were close to her were the same way. Except you, Adar, and myself—we would be tortured; you for being the White Wizard, Adar and me for being the heirs of the man who took his Ring in the first place. Everything will burn under his eyes…. Everything will fall." My stomach flips even as I speak, images of the burning Eye flashing across my eyes once more. I scramble to my feet and over to the window, retching until my stomach is empty, then collapsing to the floor and drawing my knees up to my chest. "We have to do something."
After managing to calm myself down and making sure Pip and Adar were fine, we all gather in the main hall for a meeting, Théoden listening intently to Gandalf as he explains everything the best he can.
"There was no lie in Pippin's eyes," Gandy says quietly," a fool, but an honest fool he remains. He told Sauron nothing of Andrea and the Ring, nor did Larien. She, of course, told him a few choice words that are not meant to pass a lady's lips." I give him a tiny smile, resting my head on Haldir's shoulder as I regained my strength and fought off my hangover. "We've been strangely fortunate. What Pippin saw in the palantír was a glimpse of our enemy's plan. Sauron moves to strike the city of Minas Tirith. His defeat at Helm's Deep showed our enemy one thing." At that, Gandy looks from Adar to me. "The heir of Elendil has come forth with an heir of his own. Men are not as weak as he supposed. There is courage still, strength in them left to challenge him. Sauron fears this. He will not risk the peoples of Middle-earth uniting under one banner. He will raze Minas Tirith to the ground before he sees the return of the King." Gandy's gaze moves on to Théoden, giving the man a stern look. "If the beacons of Gondor are lit, Rohan must be ready for war."
"Tell me," Théoden asks. "Why should we ride to the aid of those who did not come to ours? What do we owe Gondor?"
"I'm sorry," I interrupt, wincing when my head throbs from the noise," are you suddenly four years old again? If Gondor falls, then you can bet your sweet ass that he will strike at you next, and you'll have no help this time. Most of the Elves have gone to Valinor, so you'll be completely alone to watch as your people are slaughtered." Théoden's eyes drop to the ground and then rise to Aragorn when my Adar speaks.
"I will go," Aragorn says when he catches Théoden's gaze.
"No," Gandy snaps.
"They must be warned!"
"They will be." Then in a lower voice to Aragorn," You must come to Minas Tirith by another road. Follow the river, look to the black ships." He speaks in a louder voice now, for everyone to hear. "Understand this: Things are now in motion that cannot be undone. I will ride for Minas Tirith and I won't be going alone." Pippin and I share surprised looks when Gandalf's eyes land on us.
Pippin, Merry, Haldir, and I run through the streets after Gandalf, my stomach churning in the heat and from the motions. "Of all the inquisitive Hobbits, Peregrin Took, you are the worst," Gandy huffs," Hurry, hurry!" I glare at the back of his head. What an asshole. If not for Pippin, we wouldn't even know a sliver of Sauron's plans! By the path Gandy is taking, I'd say we're headed for the stables and that means I'll have to ride Thalion while fighting a hangover. Sure, I love the horse, but I don't know how well I'll handle all the damn bouncing that's gonna happen.
"I'm scared," I whisper to Haldir. "How will I be able to help Gandy? After all, if the Steward will go ape shit at seeing Adar, what will he do when he figures out who I am?"
"Nothing is going to happen," Haldir promises, tightening his grip on my hand slightly for reassurance. "I'll not let that filthy man harm a hair on your head."
"Good for that hair, but what about the rest of me?" He chuckles at that, though I can't figure out why because I was being completely serious. "I'm not joking, from what I've heard, that guy's completely off his rocker. He's cracked!" Gandy throws a stern shut your mouth look at me over his shoulder, and I take the hint to lower my voice. "Plus he's Boromir's father, he'll blame the Fellowship for his kid's death and, I don't know if you've noticed, but I'm part of the frigging Fellowship." We've reached the stables by now and Haldir leads me over to Thalion's stall, bringing the horse out and saddling it.
"As I said before, I'll not let any harm come to you." He puts his hands on my hips and raises me up onto the saddle before climbing on behind me and taking the reins in his hands. "Just relax, I don't need you having one of your attacks considering you are low on your medicine." He maneuvers Thalion next to Shadowfax, ready to match the other horse's speed and keep up with Gandalf and Pippin. "I've got you now and I always will."
"Merry," Pippin shouts in a pleading voice as our horses thunder out of the stables at full speed. We ride through the night, Haldir and I taking shifts on controlling Thalion while the other slept for a few hours. I felt a little sorry for Gandalf since he couldn't hand the reigns over to Pip for rest because Pippin wasn't big enough to handle such a large horse. By mid-morning the next day we stop in a small village for rest. We found a kind family to stay with for a few hours, eating and sleeping until we felt we wouldn't pass out in the saddle.
Altogether, it took us about three days to reach our destination, riding into the White City around mid-morning. It's much larger than I thought it was and made of white stone, the place beautiful despite the darkness at its doorstep. "Minas Tirith," Gandalf announces," City of the Kings." The streets of the city are steep and winding, crowded with people who stood off to the side as we galloped past. We dismount in a courtyard on the topmost level, outside the entrance of the Citadel. A dead tree is guarded in the center of the stone and grass courtyard—pale white with no leaves to brighten it up.
"It's the tree," Pippin whispers, catching up to us.
"Yes, the White Tree of Gondor. The tree of the king. Lord Denethor, however, is not the king. He is a Steward only, a caretaker of the throne." As we get closer to the entrance Gandy lowers his voice. "Lord Denethor is Boromir's father. To give him news of his beloved son's death would be most unwise." Haldir takes my hand in his, noticing the way my breath had caught in my throat. "And do not mention Andrea…. Or the Ring…. And do not say anything of Aragorn nor Ashley's parentage." He stops, looking down at Pippin uncertainly. "In fact, it's better if you do not speak at all, Peregrin Took."
"What about me," I ask, looking uncertainly towards the double doors at the top of the stairs. Gandalf looked as worried as I did, quickly looking me over to be sure I bore no mark of being a princess. I worse a simple green and silver tunic, black breeches, my boots, and a thick cloak that Éomer had gifted me with before I'd departed. My dagger was hidden in my boot still, my auburn hair framed my face, and the necklace Galadriel had given me was tucked beneath my tunic. There was nothing about me that spoke of royal blood and I hoped Denethor believed it.
"You should be fine, but don't speak unless you absolutely have to. Maybe he will think you are Haldir's wife." The hall we enter is made mostly of white marble with black accents, the ceiling above our heads domed with gold and green patterns painted on it that made the place even brighter. Between the pillars were white pedestals that supported statues of previous rulers, but there were hardly any decorations about the room. Haldir, Pip, and I follow Gandalf as he strides confidently down the hall towards a tall dais with many steps that lead up to a large throne. In a chair at the bottom of the dais sits an older man with long, greasy, and graying hair that reached his shoulders. He was wrapped in heavy black robes, the color of mourning in this land. "Hail Denethor, son of Ecthelion, lord and steward of Gondor." The steward doesn't look up as we approach him, just continues to keep his head down with his eyes focused on something laying in his lap. "I come with tidings in this dark hour, and with council."
Denethor slowly raises his eyes, as gray as Boromir's had been. I was struck by how similar their features were, the memory I had of a smiling Boromir clashing with the one I had of him taking several arrows to the chest. "Perhaps you came to explain this?" Denethor's voice is full of grief as he holds up the two halves of Boromir's horn. "Perhaps you come to tell me why my son is dead." Pippin steps forward before I could stop him, opening and closing his mouth for a few seconds until he finds his voice.
"Boromir died to save us... My kinsman and me. He fell, defending us from many foes." I lower my eyes to my boots, tears stinging my eyes as I remember how he'd fallen to the ground in front of me, taking an arrow that should have been buried in my throat. Pippin drops to a knee before Denethor, offering the crazed man his sword. "I offer my service, such as it is, in payment of this debt."
"This is my first command to you. How did you escape and my son did not, so might a man as he was?"
"Even mighty men will fall when pierced by many arrows." I draw a shaky breath, grateful when Haldir wraps an arm around my waist and hugs me close to him.
"Get up," Gandy hisses, thumping Pip slightly with his staff. "My Lord, there will be a time to grieve for Boromir, but it is not now. War is coming. The enemy is on your doorstep. As steward, you are charged with the defense of this city. Where are Gondor's armies?" Denethor slowly meets Gandy's eyes again. "You still have friends. You are not alone in this fight. Send word to Théoden of Rohan, light the beacons." Denethor smiles, the slight curving of his lips holding nothing good.
"You think you are wise, Mithrandir," he muses softly," yet for all your subtleties, you have not wisdom. Do you think the eyes of the White Tower are blind? I have seen more than you know. With your left hand you would use me as a shield against Mordor, and with your right you would seek to supplant me." His narrow-eyed gaze lands on me for a split second and I quickly turn my eyes to the ground with a shudder. "I know who rides with Théoden of Rohan. Oh, yes, word has reached my ears of this Aragorn, son of Arathorn. And I tell you now, I will not bow to this Ranger from the North or his daughter, last of a ragged house long bereft of Lordship." Gandy looks shocked for a moment before his lips tighten.
"Authority is not given you to deny the return of the King, Steward."
"The rule of Gondor is mineand no other's," Denethor explodes, rising from the chair. Gandalf gives the steward one last scathing glare before turning on his heel and leaving; Haldir, Pip, and I quickly following after him.
"All has turned to vain ambition. He would even use his grief as a cloak. The guards open the doors for us, permitting us to the fresh air outside. "A thousand years this city has stood. Now, at the whim of a madman, it will fall. And the White Tree, the tree of the king will never bloom again." Pip and I struggle to keep up with the other two, our legs not nearly so long as to permit the large steps they took.
"Why are they still guarding it," Pippin asks, looking towards the four guards standing at the ready around the tree. It was a pathetic looking thing, all white bark and not even a single leaf to brighten it up. It stood near a small, circular pool filled with clear water with a white fountain in the center, and benches were situated between the four fractions of grass.
"The guard it because they have hope. A faint and fading hope that one day it will flower. That a king will come and this city will be as it once was before it fell into decay." As we were passing the dying tree, something catches my attention and makes me pause. The others walk of a few feet before they realized I wasn't with them, the three of them joining my side. "What is it, Ashley?"
"I thought it was dead," I answer, reaching out to run the tip of my finger over the tiny leaf trying hard to grow. It was the strangest leaf I'd ever seen, in the shape of a laurel and smooth as silk, the top of it was a dark green while the bottom was a silver color. "Happiness can be found, even in the darkest of times," I quote with a fond smile," if one only remembers to turn on the light."