We have FINALLY updated! :D
Zoe and i almost died because when editing this i decided it would be fun to make it into a musical, so basically we had a sing off. It was highly amusing :D
R&R please.
Chapter 21
The White horse rode swiftly through the plains of Gondor, eating up the miles with breath-taking speed. The two hobbits' wailing dwindled away, Pippin falling into slumber and Celandine into silent, sullen misery. With the haste Shadowfax moved it was not long before the three occupants eyes rested upon the great white city that was Minas Tirith.
"Minas Tirith, City of Kings." Gandalf announced as they continued to get closer.
Celandine peered round from behind Pippin, gazing in open mouthed amazement at the city, which even from a distance appeared colossal. Her melancholy temporarily forgotten, she found a small measure of excitement swell inside her. She jolted Pippin with her elbow, waking him. He too was floored by the size of the city, towering over them like a mountain. Gandalf spurred Shadowfax on and they were soon thundering through Minas Tirith itself, the horse hooves clattering against its White Mountain stone. Gandalf called out and people leapt out of the way as the horse and its riders rushed past. When they reached the top level Gandalf reined Shadowfax to a halt and dismounted, lifting the hobbit's to the ground. Celandine looked up at the horse, as if just realizing how high she had been. Though it was too late to be afraid she felt a shudder run the length of her spine. She hurried to catch up with Gandalf and Pippin; afraid she'd get left behind and lost. She wished Bee was with her, smiling down at her or making a remark about obvious things which always made her feel better. "It's the tree, Gandalf. Gandalf!" Pippin cried "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." Celandine lagged behind the wizard and other hobbit, looking back at the white tree, being honest she had no idea what the pair had been talking about and could not come up with a reason why a single tree could mean anything important, especially one that seemed too discoloured. "Keep up Celandine" Gandalf called briefly glancing back at the she-hobbit. Celandine glanced up and realised she had indeed been left behind as she ventured off into her thoughts. Taking one last glance at the so called 'special' tree Celandine hurried after the wizard and other hobbit, reaching grand looking doors.
Gandalf paused as he went to open the doors, turning to look down at the two hobbits before him. "Listen carefully: Lord Denethor is Boromir's father. To give him news of his beloved son's death would be most unwise. And say nothing of Frodo and the ring. Or of Aragorn either." The wizard explained going once again to open the doors, but found himself turning back to the hobbits with a sigh. "In fact, it's better if you don't speak at all, Peregrin Took"
Celandine smirked at her friend, but soon slipped off of her face once she saw the pointed glance Gandalf was giving her giving the same message that Pippin had been given. Celandine pursed her lips but said nothing. Gandalf finally pushed open the large doors and swept into the grand hall.
The walls were a beautiful marble white, with a hint of black scattered here and there and large dark pillars reaching from the floor to the roof above them. The two hobbits looked around the vast hall, feeling smaller than ever. Gandalf took the lead, slowly approaching the white throne before them. It took Celandine a moment to notice next to the empty throne stood a single chair, and with an older man who must have been Denethor sat, leaning over clutching something closely to his chest. The three came to a stop a few meters from the chair. The room remained silent for a moment and when it appeared Denethor was not going to speak Gandalf opened his mouth instead.
"Hail, Denethor, son of Ecthelion, Lord and Steward of Gondor. I come with tidings in this dark hour… and with counsel." His voice echoed around the hall, making the two hobbits jump slightly. Denethor slowly raised his head to look upon his three guests.
"Perhaps you've come to explain this. Perhaps you've come to tell me why my son is dead." Denethor held the object he had been clasping to his chest out for them to see. It was a white ivory horn; the very one Boromir had borne. It was hewn in two, split right down the middle. With a gasp, Pippin came forward moving past Gandalf and into the Steward's view, coming to a halt before him.
"Boromir died to save us, my kinsmen and me. He fell defending us from many foes."
"Pippin!" Gandalf barked in warning. The young hobbit took no mind of the wizard and took to his knee before Denethor. Celandine glanced up at the wizard in confusion. She had no idea what was happening, it had only just occurred to her that she and Bee had taken to this quest without pausing for a moment to ask what it involved. Why were they here? And what other dangers what she encounter before someone took to time to explain what was going on?
"I offer you my service, such as it is, in payment of this debt." Pippin was saying. Denethor glanced down at him, leaning slightly over his seat to take in the full size of the small creature before him. Gandalf took a breath, had he not told them to leave the talking to him? Why did no one ever listen to a word he said, when it was most important?
"This is my first command to you: how did you escape and my son did not? So mighty a man as he was." Denethor demanded, glaring at Pippin.
"The mightiest man may be slain by one arrow, and Boromir was pierced by many." Pippin said with deep regret. Gandalf not wishing to see any more of this display came forward knocking Pippin quite roughly over with his staff, commanding that he get up.
"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're charged with the defence of this city. Where are Gondor's armies? You still have friends. You're not alone in this fight. Send word to Théoden of Rohan. Light the beacons."
Celandine was smiling widely as she helped Pippin from the floor, and helped him brush himself off; she had not expected to see the well put together wizard practically fling the hobbit out of his way with his staff. Unfortunately her good mood was not to last long once she heard the gruff voice of the Steward of Gondor. "You think you are wise, Mithrandir, yet for all your subtleties you have not wisdom. Do you think the eyes of the White Towers 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 seek to supplant me! I know who rides with Théoden of Rohan. Oh, yes. Words have reached my ears of this Aragorn, son of Arathorn, and I tell you now: I will not bow to this Ranger from the north. Last of a ragged house long bereft of lordship!" Upon hearing Aragorn's name Celandine glanced up at the old steward's face shocked to see a look of disgust upon his face at the very mention of Aragorn. She did not know what caused him to look that way. From what she had seen Aragorn would make a fantastic King.
"Authority is not given to you to deny the return of the King, Steward!" Gandalf said harshly, practically spitting the word "steward". Denethor rose from his seat to glare down at Gandalf. "The whole rule of Gondor is mine! And no other's!" A look of anger and disbelief crossed the wizards face, Celandine was sure he was going to strike the strange man down, but the blow did not come. He simply swept from the throne room, giving the hobbits a command to follow after him. They listened as the wizard mumbled to himself. "All has turned to vain ambition! He would even use his grief as a cloak."
The trio made their way out of the hall, Celandine paused for a moment and looked out in amazement at what she saw before her, Mordor. The fires of Mordor were now more visible than ever. Celandine could not remember when she had ever seen anything like it before. The sight made her insides curdle and squirm with discomfort, her heart freeze and skin crawl. "A thousand years this city has stood. Now, at the whim of a madman it will fall. The White Tree, the tree of the king, will never bloom again." Gandalf said as they passed around the tree.
"Why re dey gardin et?" Celandine asked. "They guard it because they have hope. A faint and fading hope that one day it will flower. A King will come, and this city will be as it once was, before it fell into decay. The old wisdom borne out of the west was forsaken. Kings made tombs more splendid than the houses of the living, and counted the old names of their descent dearer than the names of their sons. Childless lords sat in aged halls musing on heraldry, or in high cold towers asking questions of the stars. And so the people of Gondor fell into run. The line of kings failed. The white tree withered. The rule of Gondor was given over to lesser men." Gandalf announced as they reached they reached on of the far walls, getting a closer look at the fires of Mordor, burning brightly in the distance. "Mordor. Yes, there it lies. This city has dwelt ever in the sight of its shadow."
"A storm is coming." Pippin observed, peeping over the top of the wall.
"This is not the weather of the world. This is the device of Sauron's making. A broil of fumes he sends ahead of his host. The Orcs of Mordor have no love of daylight. So he covers the face of the sun to ease their passage along the road to war. When the shadow of Mordor reaches this city, it will begin."
"Well… Minas Tirith. Very impressive. So where are we off to next?" "Yer, when kin we go?" Celandine added not liking the sound of being in Gondor when the "broiling flames" finally reached the city walls. "Oh it's too late for that. There's no leaving this city. Help must come to us." Gandalf said blithely.
Celandine and Pippin had found themselves exploring the great city of Minas Tirith, Gandalf has excused the pair as he need some time to himself to think, well that's how he had put it anyway.
"I doont wanna be 'ere" Celandine muttered as the pair looked out unto Mordor, Celandine swore she could see the dark cloud getting closer and closer by every second.
"Me neither" Pippin replied.
"Ey, Pippin. Do ya wint te pley a game?" Pippin turned slowly to look at his old friend. "A game?" "Ye…um…it's called King, Bee meed it oop" "King?" "Ye King. I doont know ow Bee came oop wif it" She admitted, smiling at the memory of Bee trying to explain to everyone what this game was they were supposedly playing. Celandine's smile drooped slightly thinking about Bee. This was the first time in four years that the two had been separated by such a long distance. And to think Bee had wanted her to go, just suddenly out of the blue. It just didn't make sense to her, not one bit. "How do you play?" Pippin questioned, sounding as if he was truly interested in playing this strange sounding game. "Well, er…ya ave ta shout 'King' nd da first one te say et wins" "Is that some sort of elf game?" a slightly confused Pippin asked, not at all understanding the point of such a game, although elves were such strange creatures, very hard to understand their ways most of the time, but they did make wonderful food he thought, thinking about the elvish bread he had been gifted. The young she-hobbit shrugged her shoulders "Must be. Do ya wanna pley?" "Ok…um ready…" "KING!" Celandine screamed at the top of her lungs, drawing the attention of anyone nearby, making many jump and even some scream in shock. Everyone stared at them as if they were completely insane. The pair of hobbits paused for a moment before erupting into fits of laughter, stopping in the middle of the city street and drawing even more attention to themselves. The pair glanced at one another once their giggles had finally calmed down
"KING!" they both screamed causing more people to stop and stare at them. Some out of annoyance and others out fear, wondering if these poor little creatures could have caught some kind of illness of the brain. The two hobbits continued to spend their day touring around the city and every now and then the people of Minas Tirith could hear the word 'King' as it echoed around the white stone walls. By the time the sun was setting Celandine and Pippin had begun to make their way back towards the upper levels of Minas Tirith. As they approached the main courtyard a solider of Gondor came forth, dressed proudly in his Gondorian robes. "Young Master Hobbit, the Steward of Gondor wishes to see you" he spoke formally, glancing down briefly to look at the hobbits.
"Curm on den" Celandine urged pushing Pippin to follow the solider as he began to walk towards the main doors of the throne room, not waiting to see if the hobbit was following after him.
Night had fallen by the time Pippin had returned and now the wizard and hobbits were stood on a balcony watching the night skies. Gandalf stood tall as he tried to get his pipe ready, while Pippin was stood silently looking over his new armour and sword he had been presented with by the Steward. "So I imagine this is just a ceremonial position. I mean, they don't actually expect me to do any fighting… do they?" came the voice of slightly concerned Pippin as he glanced up at Gandalf who had finally managed to get his pipe into his mouth.
"You're in the service of the Steward now; you're going to have to do as you're told, Peregrin Took." Gandalf told him, choking on the smoke from his pipe. Celandine got up from her seated position and handed the old wizard a cup of water.
"Ridiculous Hobbit. 'Guard of the Citadel.' Thank you." He said to the she-hobbit accepting the cup of water gratefully. Celandine rested her arms across the balcony's banister watching the night sky carefully "Der is no moore stars." "Is it time?" asked the other hobbit coming to join Celandine. "Yes" "It's so quiet."
"It's the deep breath before the plunge." Gandalf said ominously.
"I don't want to be in a battle, but waiting on the edge of one I can't escape is even worse! Is there any hope, Gandalf? For Frodo and Sam?"
"There never was much hope. Just a fool's hope." Pippin bit his lip with concern, while Celandine wrinkled her brow in confusion "Our enemy is ready, his full strength gathers. Not only orcs, but men as well, legions of Haradrim from the South, mercenaries from the coast… all will answer Mordor's call." The great wizard explained. "This will be the end of Gondor as we know it. Here the hammer stroke will fall the 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… that's got to count for something. Gandalf?" Pippin looked up at the wizard, clutching desperately for some hope.
"Sauron has yet to reveal his deadliest servant. The one who would lead Mordor's armies in war. The one they say no living man can kill: the Witch-King of Angmar." Pippin peered up at Gandalf curiously, who was this Witch King of Angmar?
"You've met him before." Gandalf replied, answering his unspoken question "He stabbed Frodo on Weathertop."
Suddenly there was a loud rumble and a flash of light as the sky lit up over Mordor, it looked as lightening was continuously striking the ground in a never ending stream of light. The hobbits jumped in fright and quailed as the light continued. Gandalf went to them and took them in his arms, protecting and comforting them. Mumbling to himself "The board is set. The pieces are moving."