A/N: Just a quick heads-up: I'm predicting about 10 – 12 more chapters before this story wraps up. We're getting down to the end of things, guys (can you believe it?!)

Happy reading! :)

Chaos Unleashed: Part Two

Chapter Twenty

Kathryn's POV

"So! Minas Tirith!" I looked up at my Gondorian friend with a smile. We had passed over Gondor's northern border earlier that morning, and Gandalf had suspected that we'd be in the White City by sundown. "How much am I going to love it?"

"Endlessly," Boromir joked.

I laughed. "Oh wow, almost as much as you!"

He rolled his eyes. "Well it is my homeland, after all."

"I know," I grinned. "But I am excited to finally see it in person. The way you talk about it makes it sound amazing."

"It is, truly," he replied. But instead of launching into some great speech describing his beloved city as usual, Boromir's gaze shifted and his eyes seemed to glaze over, his mind elsewhere. "I should hope that everything is going well enough."

My smirk disappeared. "It'll be fine," I reassured him. "I'm sure Faramir and your dad are okay." He tried to flash a thankful smile in my direction, but it didn't seem very sincere. I watched as he picked up his pace a little bit, moving to walk close by Aragorn instead of me. I wasn't offended by, it though...I was worried. A frown tugged at the corners of my lips as I stared at the back of Boromir's red head. He'd been acting kinda strange lately, but I couldn't figure out why or how to describe his odd behavior. I knew that the last thing he probably wanted was to be questioned about it, though, so I decided to leave him alone for the time being. Whatever it was that was bothering him, I hope it resolved itself soon.

oOo

Boromir's POV

I could feel it calling to me. Again. Relentlessly, persistently gnawing at the back of my mind, just as it had been all those months ago when I took my first steps out of Rivendell. It whispered my name...begging for me to answer. The Ring.

"Bring me back this mighty gift." My father's words echoed in my mind. "It is our blood which has been spilt; our people who are dying." And I was meant to save them. I had been chosen to save my people.

But now I heard the foreboding words of Thranduil as well. "The Steward is not who he once was." Fear clutched at my heart as I thought of all the possible meanings that simple phrase could have. I was more reluctant than happy to be returning to Minas Tirith, afraid of what I might discover there. What has happened to my father? To Faramir? To my people?

They have fallen, I heard it whisper. Crumbled into decay. A ruined and rotten city of stone. I could see the images in my mind...the White Tower broken and blinded; the banners of my house torn down. Screams from women and children as Sauron's forces closed in around them. The Great City of Men stands upon the brink of destruction. But you could save them. You have the power to redeem your city, your family...it is within arm's reach. All you have to do...is be willing to take it.

I would do anything to save my people. I will take it-

"I will take it!" The voice that stopped me was not mine. It was that of the hobbit whom I had sworn to protect. "I will take the Ring to Mordor!" Flashes of memories passed me by. The slopes of Caradhras – the moment I had nearly taken the Ring for myself. No...no! I cried out internally. I am not that man! Not anymore!

You are a coward, the Ring taunted me. Too afraid to claim even what is rightfully yours. You would let a foolish halfling carry such power, selfish enough to keep it for his own. He would destroy it – he would destroy you. To destroy the Ring is to destroy your people.

But despite all the Ring's best efforts, I could not forget the events of the past. I could not forget how these same whispers had infiltrated my mind before; could not forget how close I had come to attacking the hobbit. I will not hurt Frodo. Not this time.

You would sacrifice the wellbeing of an entire nation for the life of one witless halfling? You would sacrifice your own brother? Your father?

I could see the smile on Faramir's face. "Remember today, little brother," I had said. "Today...life is good."

And you left him. You deserted him.

No! I struggled against the dark thoughts. Father asked me to go to Rivendell. He trusted me.

But you let him down. You already failed him once. You allowed three idiotic girls to distract you. You let the Ring slip away, into the hands of a filthy ranger.

I saw myself standing on the banks of the Anduin in the night, shouting at Aragorn. "All your life you have hidden in the shadows! Scared of who you are, of what you are!"

The heir of Isildur seeks to usurp the throne of Gondor. He wishes to rob you of your chance to redeem yourself. He would rob you of all power, exile your father...

I saw images of Aragorn, clothed in the finest robes, the Crown of the King upon his head. I was knelt before him, staring up at him, but there was no friendship or compassion in his gaze. "There is no strength in your bloodline, Son of Gondor," he snarled, mocking me. "You are of the house of lesser men." I tried not to believe it. This was an illusion.

Or a glimpse into your future.

I saw myself, again on the slopes of Caradhras. "It is a strange fate that we should suffer so much fear and doubt...from so small a thing..."

You are the strength of Minas Tirith, Boromir. You are the strength of Gondor.

"...Such a little thing..."

"Bring me back this mighty gift."

The One Ring...

"By the blood of our people are your lands kept safe!"

Men are weak.

"Yes, there is weakness, there is frailty, but there is courage also!"

...Isildur's Bane...

You are their courage.

"Never again will the land of my people fall into enemy hands!"

"Bring me back this mighty gift."

...Isildur's Bane...

"I would see the glory of Gondor restored."

Restore it. Take the power that belongs to you.

...Our last fading hope...

"It's been long since we had any hope."

You are their hope...Son of Gondor.

oOo

"Boromir!"

I blinked, startled from my thoughts. Turning to my left, I saw Aragorn walking at my side, a confused expression on his face. "Are you well?"

I exhaled, attempting to smile reassuringly at him. "Fine. Just...tired from the walk. Ready for home." The ranger nodded, seeming to accept my answer, and continued ahead. But still, traces of words he'd spoken to me not long before we'd left Middle-Earth echoed in the back of my mind. "There is no strength in Gondor that can avail us."

I shook my head, determined to push all dark thoughts away. I will not allow the Ring to control me as it did before. I will not fall to its whispers again. My eyes now jumped to the dark-haired hobbit who walked alongside Gandalf. I can't.

oOo

Erin's POV

True to Gandalf's word, we'd crossed the entirety of the Pelennor and reached our destination just as the sun began to touch down on the horizon. I strained my vision and tilted my head backwards as it could go as we walked, trying (and failing) to see the top of the seventh level from our angle. If seeing it from afar had been impressive, being this close to the White City now was absolutely mind-blowing. The sheer size of the place was bigger than anything I'd ever seen, totally exceeding my expectations based on what I'd seen in the movies. I felt smaller than ever as we drew closer.

"It's so big," Pippin breathed in awe from my left.

"Yes, Master Peregrin," Gandalf's voice came from in front of us. "It is the crown jewel of the men of the West. The City of Kings."

"What I wouldn't give to have a vacation home here," I said quietly, eyes still wandering as Merry let out a low whistle.

"It is a great city of men," Aragorn agreed from my other side. "Though it has seen better days," he added as an afterthought, lowering his voice as he spoke to me. "There is a veil of darkness here that feels drawn about this place like a cloak."

I blinked, turning my head sharply. "You noticed it, too?" I whispered. The dark-haired man nodded. "I thought maybe it was just me. I mean, don't get me wrong, it looks beautiful...but something just feels...wrong." I frowned, scanning the different levels again, though this time out of worry more than awe. "I don't know what it is...it's like...a presence."

"Sauron's strength has surely been seen most by these people over any other," Aragorn said, "but I think you may be right. This darkness feels more like it stems from within." His eyes shone with concern, and I did not miss how they flicked to Boromir, who was naturally at the front of the group.

I opened my mouth to speak again, but was cut off by Pippin. "Are those the gates there?"

"Indeed they are," Gandalf replied once more. "The Great Gates of Minas Tirith." Again, I found myself practically drooling over the gorgeous architecture. The gates were solid, strong, and massive, just like the city they protected, detailed with carvings of ancient kings from the past that had earned the city its glorious reputation. Suddenly, we came to a stop not far from the gates, and all eyes turned to the wizard. "Do not take offense if those that guard this city are suspicious of our company. They have taken the hardest hit from Sauron as he has grown in power, and have every right to be wary of strange travelers seeking entry to their home." We nodded, and he smiled a bit. "Luckily enough, we happen to have a Lord of Gondor on our side." He turned to Boromir. "I trust that you can gain us access into your home."

"Without a doubt," Boromir replied. You could sense the excitement he felt at finding his city still in one piece. "They will remember me as the son of the Steward. We will have no trouble getting inside."

"Good." But as Gandalf turned to face the rest of us again, his tone grew darker. "Now before we enter, there is something you must each understand. Lord Denethor, as the Steward, is a good man, but a man he is before anything else. His mind is not what it once was. There is rumor that this is due to Denethor's possession of a deadly and powerful object which he should never have come across. It is known as a palantîr; a lost seeing-stone from another age." I saw Boromir bristle slightly. "The palantîr have now become tools of Sauron's. He has used them to look into the hearts of even the strongest men and corrupt their minds to become his servants. The call of this evil is all the more potent to those with weaker minds and fickle hearts."

At that, I froze, staring at Gandalf intently, but he didn't meet my gaze. Was this a warning? Was he saying there was a reason I could sense this 'darkness' so well? I glanced around at the others, looking for similar reactions, and what I saw worried me even more. Frodo had instinctively closed his hand around the Ring that hung from his chest. Boromir's eyes had dropped to the ground, his brow twisted in confusion and fear. And though Aragorn seemed calm enough on the outside, his eyes and rigid posture screamed panic. I looked forward again, taking a deep breath in an attempt to calm myself. Four of us. Four of us feel its call. Four of us are weak.

"It may take all of your strength to resist it, but resist it you must," Gandalf continued. "While the palantîr has been hidden well within the citadel, I do not doubt that it could still be accessed if the will of Sauron was strong enough. You must be careful." The wizard's gaze swept over all of us. I wondered if he could sense my fear. Finally, he broke the tension and turned to the redhead again. "Now, if you would be so kind, Boromir..."

Boromir nodded and said nothing before turning and quickly walking up to the gate, close enough so that he could finally speak with the men guarding it. The rest of us stood back, watching and listening with anticipation.

"Who are you?" One man shouted from above as Boromir slowed his pace. "And what business do you have in the White City?"

But Boromir only raised his arms like he was prepared to hug them. "My friends!" he cried. "Have you grown so weary that you've forgotten the faces of your own lords?"

There was a bit of shuffling from up above as the guards moved to get a better look, but within seconds we could hear their shouts of joy. "Lord Boromir! Open the gates, Lord Boromir has returned!"

All of a sudden, the sound of silver trumpets split through the air loud and clear, playing a fanfare I could only imagine was reserved for Boromir himself as the gates groaned and creaked, then slowly cracked open before us. Gandalf motioned for us to move forward, and we did, following after our fellow Gondorian as he stepped forward to embrace several men that he knew. As we approached them, I could see the smile on Boromir's face as he was welcomed home. Guards and soldiers came up to him, citizens came running to see their lord again for themselves. It was touching, really, and despite all the foreboding junk Gandalf had just thrown at us, I couldn't help but smile a bit, feeling happy for my friend.

After a few moments, Boromir finally turned and ushered the rest of us to come closer, stepping aside to introduce us to a tall, fairly handsome man with dark eyes and thick hair falling to his shoulders. "Iorlas," Boromir introduced, "a most loyal friend of mine."

"You are friends of Lord Boromir?" the young man questioned.

Gandalf stepped forward. "We are indeed."

Iorlas' eyes widened as he recognized the wizard. "Mithrandir! Forgive me, I-I did not realize-"

"It's quite all right," Gandalf replied with a shake of his head. "It has been long since I have ventured this far south. Allow me to introduce you to our company." He gestured to each of us in turn. "The Halflings, Frodo, Meriadoc, and Peregrin, the ladies Kathryn, Kaia, and Erin, and Aragorn, son of Arathorn."

If possible, Iorlas' eyes widened even more when he heard Aragorn's name, but didn't say anything about it. Instead, he looked back to Gandalf. "A strange company this is! To see Halflings in these lands is certainly extraordinary."

Gandalf chuckled as the hobbits looked down and shuffled their feet. "Yes, these are strange times for us all. But at this time, we come seeking the council of Lord Faramir."

"Lord Faramir? Of course!" Iorlas replied. "He will be most overjoyed to see the return of his brother, and will surely welcome you all as guests in his house. Come, I will take you to him."

oOo

Boromir's POV

Thankfully, the journey to the seventh level of Minas Tirith was not too strenuous, as we were given horses to get us up to the citadel faster. Though oddly enough, a part of me wished that we had not ridden with such speed – I would've wandered the streets of the city for hours if I could have. Everywhere I looked, I saw the faces of those I loved; people that were as happy to see me as I was to see them. I was reminded of just how long it had been since I had last been within these walls, and was happier than I'd ever been in a long time now that I had returned. It was like a dream. So many times on our quest, I'd feared that I would never get to see my city ever again...but now I was back.

However, for all the joy I felt, it did not go unnoticed by me that things had changed since I had left for Rivendell. Buildings were crumbled and broken, with people living in the streets. There were more beggars than I had ever remembered seeing before. Banners had been torn from their posts, no longer displaying the glory of the White City. An air of defeat hung overhead like looming storm clouds, and it pained me to see my people suffering like this at Sauron's hand. My happiness was tinted with a mixture of anger and despair at seeing what the city had become.

But I would be a liar if I said that all of that didn't fall away the moment we emerged into the courtyard on the seventh level. Not ten seconds after we climbed the last flight of stairs, I heard the doors to the citadel open. Heart leaping into my throat, I quickly dismounted my horse, watching as a lone figure came running down the stairs, then stumbled to a stop in disbelief, just staring.

All was still for a moment, and I stared right back.

And then, in the blink of an eye, I was running – sprinting across the grass and stone as fast as my legs could carry me, grinning all the while. I only slowed for a few seconds before colliding with another body, wrapping my arms around him in the tightest embrace I could muster. "Faramir!" I beamed.

"Boromir!" We pulled away from each other, and my grin widened even more as I finally took in the sight of my little brother standing before me, unharmed, alive, and just as I'd left him all those months ago. "I suspected they were lying when they told me you'd returned!"

I chuckled and shook my head. "I wanted to surprise you."

"Well you've definitely done so!" We laughed and embraced each other once more. I clapped him hard on the back, laughing again when I heard him stifle a grunt of pain. "All this time and still your strength hasn't dwindled," I heard him mutter.

"I should hope not," I beamed, releasing him again. "After all, someone's got to be keeping you in line. Who's taken up the job while I've been away?"

Faramir laughed before smiling as if he knew something I didn't. "An old friend," he answered cryptically. "Would you care to meet him?"

oOo

Kathryn's POV

I stared at the man who stood before us with Faramir in the main hall of the citadel, letting my jaw drop to the floor without shame. How many more twists was the world going to throw at us on this adventure?

Boromir seemed just as taken aback as the rest of us. "By the Valar, Éomer!" he exclaimed. "You must've had some luck to be standing here alive!"

And sure enough, there he stood. The exact same Éomer that I'd been told was dead several months ago. "It is by luck and strength alone I was spared," he said, his voice still strong and commanding attention as I remembered it from the movies. "Few men of Rohan survived the fight against that evil." His dark eyes flicked in the direction of Mordor.

"It's a wonder that any of you managed to make it out at all," Gandalf spoke up. "I was given word that the Rohirrim had perished."

"We did," he said solemnly. "There are no more than two dozen of us now, and I am the last of the House of Eorl. My king Théoden was claimed early on by Saruman, and Theodred was slain soon after."

There was a beat of silence. "...What of the Lady Éowyn?" Aragorn asked.

Éomer exhaled and looked to the ranger, the pain of the loss still faintly seen in his eyes. "She did not survive." Aragorn bowed his head to show his sympathy, as Éomer continued. "I rallied what remained of our people and brought them here. We had no choice but to flee from our own lands." The bitterness in his tone was easy to hear. Clearly he hadn't moved on.

"Does the Enemy know of your survival?" Gandalf questioned.

"I've made it my priority to ensure he does not," Éomer answered.

"Good..." Gandalf mused. "...Very good."

It was quiet for a minute, until Kaia suddenly spoke up. "Well! That was...completely unexpected!" She looked around at all of us. "What's next? I hope everyone's on the same page here and can agree that there's a lot to be discussed."

"Precisely," Gandalf agreed. "And that is why, my dear Kaia...we must go to council."

A/N: Ohhhh man oh man, things are building up! This chapter ended up being pretty important, even though it's kinda still filler at the same time. Boromir's being drawn to the Ring again, Faramir's introduced, Éomer turned out to not be dead (bet nobody saw that one coming lmao)...

And trust me, this is just the beginning. ;) Until the next update! Thanks so much for sticking with me on this story!