The Battle at the Black Gate Begins, and the Eagles Come at the End of All Things
25 March, 3019, of the Third Age
3 Astron 1419, Shire-Reckoning Time...
In silence, Aragorn cantered forward towards the gate, bearing the Gondorian banner. Gandalf followed with us, Éomer with Merry, and Legolas with Gimli. We stood before the gates in silence. Finally, Aragorn spoke in a noble voice.
"Let the Lord of the Black Land come forth! Let justice be done upon him!"
Slowly, as though to taunt us, the gates opened, and a rather ugly orc known only as the Mouth of Sauron came out to greet us on his horse. Aragorn gave him a look of utter disgust as he spoke. The Mouth's teeth were long and rotten, and when he caught my eye he gave me a sneer that made me want to retch.
"My master, Sauron the Great, bids thee welcome. Is there any in this rout with authority to treat with me?" His voice was slimy and cruel and I watched him in distaste. I opened my mouth to spit on him, but Gandalf, however, was calm, and covered my mouth with his hand.
"We do not come to treat with Sauron, faithless and accursed. Tell your master this: The armies of Mordor must disband. He is to depart these lands, never to return."
"Aha…Old Greybeard. I have a token I was bidden to show thee." He pulled from behind him, a Mithril shirt, one that seemed strangely familiar, and tossed it to Gandalf.
"Frodo!" Pippin cried.
"No!" I heard Merry wail.
"Silence!" Gandalf ordered, and they were silent.
Pippin looked from him to me, and he shook with tears.
"So they have him, then," I said quietly, crying. "They have had him." I looked up with a burning hatred for the Mouth. He was grinning at us.
"The Halfling was dear to thee, I see," he said in mocking tone, seeing the pain in all our faces. "Know that he suffered greatly at the hands of his host." He spoke softer and with more pleasure in his words. "Who would've thought one so small could endure so much pain?"
Gandalf passed the shirt to Pippin, who held it and sobbed. I looked down at my hands and grieved for my dear friend.
"And he did, Gandalf, he did."
Aragorn walked Brego forward determinedly. The Mouth grimaced at him, showing his ugly teeth.
"And who is this? Isildur's heir? It takes more to make a king than a broken elvish blade…"
Aragorn let out a cry and swiftly lopped off the Mouth's head. "I do not believe it," he told us. "I will not."
The gates creaked again and opened wider. We galloped back to our army, and Pippin at last let the shirt down.
"I have hope," he told me. "There is still hope that they are alive."
"We would know if they had failed. The ring would belong to Sauron and he would be back in true form," I said, in sudden knowledge. "And faithful Sam is with him. He would not let his master give in so easily…"
The sound of tens of thousands of feet marching filled the air. In fear, Pippin and I looked up. A massive orc army, larger and far greater than our own, approached. Pippin somehow found my hand again. Aragorn rode before us, telling us not to be afraid. He raised his sword and cried to us aloud.
"Hold your ground! Hold your ground! Sons of Gondor, and of Rohan! My brothers; I see in your eyes the same fear that would take the heart of me!"
I closed my eyes and held Pippin closer.
"A day may come when the courage of men fails, when we forsake our friends and break all bonds of fellowship. But it is not this day! An hour of wolves and shattered shields, when the age of men comes crashing down. But it is not this day! This day we fight!"
Aragorn paused as he cantered back and forth, letting the expressions on all our faces bore their way into his mind and memory.
"By all that you hold dear on this good Earth, I bid you stand! MEN OF THE WEST!"
Aragorn raised his sword and his horse reared. Gandalf leapt from Shadowfax and we did too, following the others' lead and drawing our swords. The orc army had us nearly completely encircled. I breathed quickly, the hair prickling on the back of my neck. I looked up to see the Eye of Sauron watching us, interested, and behind it, Mount Doom. Frodo is there, I thought, and my fear vanished. I could almost see two tiny figures making their way up the mountain. I must be imagining things, I thought, and shook my head.
"Come on Pippin," I whispered. "For the Shire…For all that is good and green in this world, for all that we have set out to save. We must fight for what we want to keep."
"Come on Pippin," I whispered. "For the Shire…For all that is good and green in this world, for all that we have set out to save. We must fight for what we want to keep."
"I am ready, Aranel i Pheriannath," he replied with a small smile.
Hope flickered in our eyes, reflected in the green tones like a mirror. I looked at him with admiration, for the young boy quite grown up from the one who had knocked the skeleton in Moria and stolen Maggot's crops.
Aragorn looked up at the Eye, now, as we had before.
"Aragorn…Elessar," it murmured.
Aragorn smiled, turning slowly back to us. "For Frodo," he said simply, and charged the army of Mordor.
"Frodo!" I cried and Pippin did too, and Merry followed us as we sprinted after Aragorn, screaming and yelling and waving our swords with all the strength in the world. The rest of the army, surprised at our courage, made haste to follow, shouting their cries, and the battle of our time began.
I killed countless orcs in minutes, using the skills I'd gained from the battles we'd fought along the way. Boromir's teaching put to good use and I avoided death easily, praising Frodo and Boromir's names. I missed them both.
Trolls entered the battle, swinging at Aragorn, but we'd fought them before as well.
"Too easy," I smirked. I stabbed another orc with Pippin beside me, always.
"Look!" He said suddenly, pointing at the tower.
I cut an orc's head and leapt away from another. Looking up, I saw the Eye of Sauron tremble. Something was happening.
The Nazghûl swooped in on their fell beasts as Pippin looked to the skies.
"The eagles…The eagles are coming!" Pippin cried with joy, smiling even though his face was scratched and bleeding. The eagles took care of the Nazghûl for us, at least.
Dodging another orc, I struck swords with yet another and sank my blade into its stomach. Pippin jostled me and I fell to my knees, attempting to get up when a large orc growled at me and I struck at it. In my strange position, I missed its chest and thrust into its shoulder, trying to free my sword, and the orc, startled, swung its own sword, catching me in the side of my ribcage. It sank in deeply and I yelled out as the orc used its strength to tear the blade out of my side again. Once I had cut off its head, I was able to get to my feet and fight until I saw that the armies had stopped. Pippin pointed up again. The tower was falling, and Sauron's eye looked quite frightened. We watched with wonder as the Eye and its dark tower fell, exploded, and the armies were extinguished.
"Frodo!" We screamed with happiness. "FRODO!" Raising my left arm, the arm I'd gotten slashed in Fangorn, I felt a rippling sting pierce my side, and as Pippin screamed with joy and Merry beside him, I cried out with pain and fell to my knees. Warm blood soaked my armor. No one could hear me crying until they'd stopped their celebrations.
I didn't understand why, until I looked up to see a slightly blurry Mount Doom suddenly blow apart, releasing oceans of liquid fire. My cries of pain worsened as Pippin fell beside me sobbing, and all looked up with shock.
"FRODO!" Pippin screamed. "NO! WHY MUST HE DIE NOW, HIS TASK IS JUST ENDED!"
I tried to imagine the last time I'd seen Frodo, at Amon Hen, but I could not remember his fair face. The pain in my side struck me once more and I cried, holding it and falling over, laying limply in the dank dust of Mordor. Pippin crept to me, tears streaming down his face as he lifted me into his arms.
Pippin's eyes welled up as he held me, sitting in the dust. I wished I could have lifted my cold hands and wiped his eyes, but I could not muster the strength.
"Pippin," I murmured, as my own tears returned. Pippin buried his face into my shoulder as he sobbed, and my head sank back; the world was falling out of focus. I felt suddenly weak, and my arms fell to my sides. All was going dark, lifeless, into shadow. The battle was over.
And this time, we had won.
A Fellowship Reunites and Aragorn Just Can't Wait to Be King of Gondor
28 March 3019, of the Third Age
6 Astron 1419, Shire-Reckoning Time...
When I opened my eyes again, I was in a sunny, soft bed in the Houses of Healing at Minas Tirith. Everything was clothed in white, and I squinted in the brightness. In the time when I was hurt, I'd fallen out of time and could not remember anything, until I could hear Pippin's voice, humming his old song.
The Black Gate. I attempted to sit up; to be sure I was not in fact, dead. My side seared with pain, and I remembered having a blade gash me there. The pain was lessened, however, by the fact that a thick bandage was wrapped from my waist to my chest, and as I remembered the battle, the room came suddenly into focus, so that I could make out a small figure sitting at the foot of the bed.
"Pippin!" I said weakly, and he smiled broadly, but sadly, covering my hands with his own. His face was marred in places where, it seemed, cuts were working their way to heal.
Merry rushed into the room after a few moments, after Pippin and I had embraced and he had tearfully told me he thought I was dead.
"Come on," Merry said, after he'd given a warm hello. "There are some who'd like to see us triumphant warriors." He helped me out of bed and together the boys aided my walking. It hurt so much to walk, but I managed.
"I must be dreaming," I gasped, but it wasn't a dream. Frodo, lying in the room next door, blinked and smiled, sitting up in his bed when he saw us. Gandalf stood by the bed with him. "Frodo!" I cried, and ignoring the terrible stinging in my side I rushed to him and threw my arms around his neck. "FRODO!" I laughed as Pippin and Merry joined us, crying with joy, remembering a day back at Bag End when I'd just met them. "I can't believe you did it," I sniffed between smiles. "I can't believe it…"
"I can't believe you," Frodo laughed. "A knight of Gondor…and Pippin too! And Merry, a Rohirrim with all the Big Soldiers…" He paused and looked off at something in the distance. "It's funny…I can see the Shire, the Brandywine River… Bag End. Gandalf's fireworks, the lights in the Party Tree…" He smiled as Gimli walked in the door.
"Gimli!" We cried, as he clapped his hands in wonder at the sight of us.
Legolas came in next and I couldn't help but to run to Aragorn's arms when he entered. The fellowship was together again, save two.
Boromir, of course, was dead.
Sam was not and told us so with the shy look he gave us. Pippin, Merry and I hugged him next.
"Oh, Sam," I whispered as he kissed the top of my head. "I thought we'd never see you again."
"Of course you would," Sam smiled at Frodo. "Together till the end…why, we couldn't leave you out in the wilderness after you'd decided to come runnin' after us, right?"
I sighed, smiling. "Right."
Sam sat on the foot of the bed and I stared in wonder at all of us, laughing and being merry together like the old days. I looked up at Aragorn. "So Strider, where to next?" I pushed him playfully and he put his hand on the top of my head.
"My coronation," he said softly.
"Oh, Aragorn!" Pippin cried, jumping into the air and falling back on the bed. He sat up and shook his hair out of his eyes. "You'll be a king! The King of Gondor!"
He chuckled. "That's right. And you need to be dressed suitably, Peregrin."
"Mandy and I can wear our Guard uniforms," Pippin said, smiling. "Guards of the Citadel, and everyone shall know it…"
"I mean you should be dressed as hobbits, not as warriors," Aragorn said. "You're going home, Pippin."
Pippin looked from me to Aragorn. "Oh Strider!" Then he swallowed and corrected himself. "Sorry, never got out of that habit," he said sheepishly. "Aragorn! We're going home! At last…" He hugged me again and ran from the room.
I retreated back to the bedside where Merry was updating Frodo and Sam on all that had happened after Amon Hen, when we had leapt to distract the Uruk-kai. I joined with them, showing the scars and scrapes and telling everything of our capture in great detail. Frodo and Sam made a wonderful audience, oohing and aahing where they should and nodding when something noble happened and gasping when someone was hurt. Merry kept poking me in the back to add something or change some word, but, in all, the story of how we uprooted Fangorn and destroyed Isengard was finally told.
"And you're writing this all down, right?" Sam said. "You're going to have to remember it all."
"Yes, I will," I smiled. "Pippin won't let me forget and neither will anyone else."
So I began to tell the story of when Merry, Pippin and I split off, and Frodo looked absolutely frightened at the thought of his youngest two friends holding a dangerous, burning ball of fire, but laughed when I told him how Pippin had 'accidentally' made us Guards of the Citadel. Just as quickly his smile faded to sadness as he learned of what we endured in the White City, between fighting and saving Faramir and serving Denethor and the Battle at the Black Gate…my tongue got the best of me, even when I wasn't in the best of health. It would make a marvelous story someday, I was sure.
"And you will be on call," Aragorn added with a wink, "Should I ever need knights. Knights are for life, Adamanta."
"Aye," I said, and rolled my eyes. Sam chuckled.
I was hesitant to leave, but Aragorn's coronation would be coming up and everyone seemed to think I needed rest. Though I protested, I knew they were right, and Pippin helped me walk back to my bed as I winced with each step. It sent shivers through my spine and pain rattling through my body. He tucked me in and let me get comfortable, wriggling next to me with his chin resting on his elbows. "I'll stay till you fall asleep," he offered, and sang to me, till I nodded off.
1 May 3019, of the Third Age
10 Thrimidge 1419, Shire-Reckoning Time...
Éowyn joined me in my room, dressed in a lovely yellow gown, and put my pack on my bed. It reminded me of what I had to do. I pulled out a white shift with puffed sleeves and a brown gown out of my pack, sighing as Éowyn brushed and braided my short hair back.
With a smile, Éowyn did up her hair and greeted Faramir with a blush when he knocked on the door. The sight of the two saddened me. Éowyn, who all her life wanted to be a warrior, and not a housewife, had become just that. She didn't seem to mind, but the thought troubled me.
To my surprise, Faramir asked Éowyn for permission to speak with me alone. I was taken aback—who was I to stand in his presence like an equal?
"Adamanta Bolo, Aranel I Pheriannath...you have proven yourself. You have done great things in the face of danger and have done a noble service for our city," he said, kneeling to my height. "I owe you and Peregrin my life."
I opened my mouth to argue but he held up his hand and stayed my tongue.
"I will miss you, my friend. In the short time we were together, Peregrin you and I learned a great deal about each other and our people have fallen in love with you. I wish you the very best, for your life. Have a safe journey, and have happiness for years to come. I fear this is our final parting in this life age. I will miss you, my friend."
I bit my lip, fighting tears, sitting on the edge of my bed, as Faramir from his side withdrew a staff of oaken. "It should help your walking," he murmured, fingering the Tree of Gondor which was emblazoned in the wood. Taking the staff, I laid in on my bed covers and stretched to embrace Faramir. I dearly hoped it wouldn't be the last time we met.
When I walked outside to the Citadel, it was already full of people, all Big People. I leaned on my staff and hobbled through the sea of people till I saw the hobbit boys standing behind a large fountain in the citadel courtyard.
"Well," I said. "I didn't realize I'd have to say so many good-byes."
Frodo nodded wordlessly, and Pippin bowed his head. We faced a long aisle leading to the stairs of the citadel, where Gandalf and Gimli, holding a silver winged crown, stood before Aragorn. The king-to-be knelt, his cloak of black and silver draped over the stairs.
Everyone was silent as Gandalf took the crown from its pillow and raised it high above Aragorn's head, then bringing it down to rest upon his brow. Aragorn stood, and turned to face the crowd. His face was unfamiliar in a way, since I could only seem to remember him as the ranger Strider. I fought back emotional pangs from memories of an age ago.
"Now come the days of the king," Gandalf declared nobly. "May they be blessed."
Aragorn walked to the top of the stairs and took a deep breath. I cheered, even before he began to speak.
"This day does not belong to one man, but to all," Aragorn said once we had quieted. "Let us together rebuild this world; that we may share in the days of peace."
We cheered again, loudly, as flower petals drifted down from the hall and Aragorn shut his eyes, his head bowed, beginning to sing a lovely song in elvish. My smile faded as his words of blessing and hope echoed around the citadel.
He began to walk down the aisle, nodding to all, who bowed before him. Aragorn placed a hand on Legolas' shoulder. "Hannon le," he said. Legolas just smiled and looked beside him, stepping out of the way so Arwen could approach, holding a flowing banner. She lowered her head in the sight of the king and he, with gentle hands lifted her chin, looking deep into her eyes. Aragorn for an instant was still, then embracing and kissing her suddenly. She laughed as he lifted her and twirled her, and continued walking together.
As they approached us five, we bowed slowly together, but Aragorn waved his hand gently with a little smile. "My friends," he said. "You bow to no one." In a swift movement, he and Arwen together fell to their knees, leading the entire citadel courtyard down with them.
We looked upon the crowd in awe and astonishment as they bent in our honor…thousands upon thousands kneeling before us… the five hobbits…I could see Pippin's lip tremble as he smiled and Sam's eyes well up.
The crowd was silenced as we stood before them, realizing at last the noble deeds that we had done in the face of great evil; all to protect our world.
Once the homage was done, Frodo wiped his eyes and shook his head. "We've done it," he said. "Let's go home."