Yay! School is almost out for me, so hopefully I'll be able to update my stories more often. Hopefully.

So, this is kind of a filler chapter, and it's really short. My apologies.

Disclaimer: I don't own anything except my OCs.

Chapter 28: Lighting the Beacons

Gandalf, Pippin, and Robin stood on the balcony of their room, gazing out towards Mordor. "There's no more stars," Robin remarked, looking towards the sky.

Gandalf nodded his head. "Yes, it is time. The battle for Middle-Earth is about to begin."

"It's so quiet," Pippin stated.

"It's the deep breath before the plunge," Gandalf replied.

"I don't want to be a battle," Pippin sighed. "But waiting on the edge of one I can't escape is even worse." The young hobbit turned to Gandalf. "Is there any hope, Gandalf, for Frodo and Sam?"

"There was never much hope," Gandalf answered grimly. "Just a fool's hope. Our enemy is ready. His full strength is gathered. Not only orcs, but men as well. Legions of Haradrim from the South, mercenaries from the coast, all will answer Mordor's call. This will be the end of Gondor as we know it. Here the hammer stroke will fall hardest. If the river is taken, if the garrison at Osgiliath falls, the last defense of this city will be gone."

"But we have the White Wizard," Robin interrupted. "That's got to count for something."

Gandalf gazed down at the two hobbits, his face clouded with worry. "Sauron has yet to show his deadliest servant," he continued. "The one who will lead Mordor's army in war, the one they say no living man can kill: the Witch-King of Angmar, the lord of the Nazgûl, greatest of the Nine. You've met him before. He stabbed Frodo on Weathertop." At this, Pippin's eyes widened, and Robin let out a very audible gasp.

Suddenly, a monstrous, unearthly green beam of light shot up from the east, flashing in the sky. "What in the world is that?" Robin exclaimed.

"A signal," Gandalf replied. "We come to it at last, the great battle of our time. The board is set, and the pieces are in motion." The wizard heaved a sigh. "Now, you two must rest. Tomorrow, there is something we must do."

Pippin and Robin nodded, scrambling into their beds. "Hey, Pip?" Robin asked, sitting on the mattress. "Do you think Merry will be alright?"

"I don't know, Robin," Pippin replied honestly. "Why do you ask?"

Robin sighed. "It's just…Merry's been a constant companion for me since the beginning of this whole adventure. I didn't realize how much I enjoyed him being right there beside me until I had to leave him." She shook her head. "I guess I just miss him, that's all."

"I wouldn't worry about it," Pippin remarked. "Merry is quite safe in Rohan. At least, I think he will be."

"I certainly hope so," Robin mumbled, drifting off into sleep.

~o*o*o*o~

The next morning, Gandalf, Pippin, and Robin hurried through the bustling streets of Minas Tirith. "Come, you two, there is a task now to be done," Gandalf stated. "Another opportunity for the Shirefolk to prove their great worth." The White Wizard gestured to a huge watchtower, a large pile of wood and straw at the top. "You must not fail me."

Pippin and Robin nodded and raced to the side of the tower, beginning their climb. The walls were steep, but thankfully, there were many footholds, and the two hobbits soon reached the platform at the top. Pippin clambered onto the platform first, holding out a hand to help Robin up.

"So this is the beacon?" Robin inquired, scrambling to her feet.

"Yes, now shush," Pippin whispered, putting a finger to his lips. Robin peered around the pile of wood to see two guards nearby, watching the tower. Thankfully, they were too engrossed in their midday meal to notice the two hobbits.

Robin quickly climbed up to the top of the stack of wood, straining to reach the dish of oil above her. "Almost got it…" she grunted, seizing the edge. The rope holding the dish up broke, and the basin tipped with a loud clang, spilling oil all over her and the wood.

"Great job," Pippin cheered quietly. He reached up and seized a burning lamp, tossing it down onto the timber pile.

Robin and Pippin grinned at each other, happy that it had worked. The wood began to burn, the flames spreading over the pile.

"Oh, snap!" Robin exclaimed as the fire drew nearer to the two hobbits. "Get down, Pippin!" The two leapt off of the timbers, beginning to climb down the tower. Above them, the platform of the tower was engulfed in red fire, smoking and burning.

"The beacon!" one soldier cried. "The beacon of Amon Dîn is lit!"

"Ooh, I don't suppose Denethor will be too happy about that, will he?" Pippin asked, beaming.

Robin chuckled. "No, I don't think he will."

~o*o*o*o~

All across the mountains, the red flames of the beacons flared, kindling hope for Gondor. Beacon after beacon was set ablaze until the final one was lit, overlooking the great hall of Meduseld.

"Aragorn, look!" Peyton exclaimed, springing up from her seat beside Aragorn. She pointed to the fiery dot on the hillside, a smile spreading across her face.

Aragorn pulled his pipe out of his mouth and stood, his stormy gray eyes widening. "The beacon," he breathed before beginning to sprint across the courtyard towards Meduseld.

"Hey, wait up!" Peyton called, dashing after him. The two raced to the Great Hall, taking the steps two at a time.

Aragorn reached the immense wooden doors first, throwing them open. "The beacons of Minas Tirith!" he shouted. "The beacons of are lit! Gondor calls for aid."

Peyton leaned back against the doorframe, out of breath. All eyes in the hall turned to Théoden. The king of Rohan seemed to hesitate for a moment, deep in thought. Finally, he spoke.

"And Rohan will answer!" the king declared. "Muster the Rohirrim!"

Smiles broke out on many of the hall's occupants. Peyton did a small fist pump, and Kayden beamed at her friend as they walked out to the stables. Théoden had regained his confidence, now a king ready to lead his armies to war. He conversed with his generals, organizing the men to ride to a place named "Dunharrow".

Kayden and Peyton quickly saddled up Déor and Greystorm. "So, are you ready?" Peyton asked her friend excitedly.

"Of course," Kayden answered, adjusting Brethil's strap on her shoulder. "You seem particularly excited," she remarked. Peyton just smiled back at her before riding out of the stables.

Kayden rolled her eyes, slowly trotting after Peyton. She joined Legolas and Gimli, both riding upon Arod. "Horse men!" Gimli scoffed gruffly. "I wish I could muster an army of Dwarves, full-armed and filthy!"

"Your kinsman may have no need to ride to war," Legolas replied gravely. "I fear war already marches on their own lands." Kayden nodded grimly at Legolas's statement, and the three joined the crowds of soldiers gathering in Edoras.

Meanwhile, Peyton trotted alone on Greystorm, observing the soldiers. She spotted Merry coming down the steps of the Golden Hall, adorned in full Rohirric armor. "Nice armor, Merry," she commented, riding over to him.

"Thank you," Merry replied, walking happily over to a small white horse awaiting him. "Théoden has made me an Esquire of Rohan!" The young hobbit mounted the pony and nudged its flanks, attempting to make the small horse move.

Peyton chuckled at Merry's failed attempts. "Well, for an Esquire of Rohan, you can't exactly ride a horse." She grinned at Merry's frustrated expression. "Here, let me help." Peyton reached down, slapping the horse's rump quite hard. The pony whinnied, galloping off towards the other soldiers. Peyton grinned brightly, trotting to Kayden's side.

Ėomer rode at the head of the crowd upon a great chestnut horse. "Now is the hour, Riders of Rohan!" he cried. "Oaths you have taken. Now fulfill them all, to Lord and Land!"

With an almighty roar, the soldiers of Edoras charged out of the city, galloping hard across the plains to battle.

Like I said, this was really short for my standards. Please review!