The next morning grave and frightening sight, the men holding the river city Osgiliath rode swiftly, retreating to Minas Tirith. But the Nazgul flew above and through them, killing the men of Gondor with impunity. Racing down to the stable, she ran past Farsha, swinging onto the horse's back and riding for the gates. A flash of white and green shot out of the gates. Gandalf and Pippin rode for the fleeing men Elrin and Farsha no more than a few moments behind them.
Elrin unslung her bow drawing back the string and aiming for the beasts that bore the Black Riders, her bow drawn to its full strength. A flash of brilliant white light illuminated the sky, the magic beam driving the Nazgul away from the riders. Her bowstring sang in her ears as she released her string, sending the arrow flying into the Fellbeast's throat, the creature wheeling in midair to fly back towards Osgiliath.
She joined the crowd of men twisting backward in her saddle to see dark hordes gathering in the city on the river before reentering the gates of Minas Tirith and riding over to Gandalf's side. In front of the wizard, she recognized Faramir the younger son of Lord Denethor. "Mithrandir, they have broken the gate at Ithilian and have taken the bridge and the west bank. Battalions of orcs are now crossing the river," riding to the pair, she stopped beside Gandalf and Pippin. "It is as the Lord Denethor predicted. Long has he foreseen this doom," anger flashed across the wizard's face as he snapped back, "Foreseen and done nothing."
Faramir's gaze lowered, seeing Pippin's surprise dancing across his face "This is not the first half-ling to have crossed your path, is it," Faramir looked up, meeting Gandalf's gaze, "you've seen Frodo and Sam!" Worry began forming within her at the look on Faramir's face, "in Ithilian not two days ago, Mithrandir. They've taken the road to the Morgul Vale." Her heart dropped like a stone as she whispered, "And then the path to Cirith Ungol." One of the men struggled through the crowd of horses and men, "Lord Faramir your father the Lord Denethor requests your presence in the Citadel." With a slight bow, he left, and alongside Gandalf, she followed Faramir up towards his father.
"This is how you would serve your city; you would risk its utter ruin." Standing to the side, Elrin stayed her distance, hidden behind two of the great marble pillars, "I only did what I judged to be right." The tension was so present she could have cut it with her sword the way she could an opponent. She was beginning to understand why Asterin hated the days when she had to listen to arguments between Legolas and his father. "What you judged to be right," a rapid inhale, and Elrin braced herself, seeing the brutal conversation mostly one-sided conversation that was to come.
"You sent the ring of power into Mordor in the hands of a witless half-ling! It should have been brought back to the Citadel, to be kept safe. Dark and deep in the vaults, not to be used unless at the utmost end of need." Faramir calmly snapped back, clearly used to these kinds of statements but still bothered by the ridiculousness of his father's claim. "I would not use the ring, not if Minas Tirith were falling in ruin and I alone could save her," the smirk that stretched its way across the steward's face made her wince.
"Ever your desire to appear lordly and gracious, as a king of old. Boromir would have remembered his father's need; he would have brought me a kingly gift." Faramir spoke rapidly, his voice never faltering as he said, "Boromir would not have brought you the ring. He would have stretched out his hand to this thing and taken it, and he would have fallen." Denethor began rising from the steward's throne near to shouting back at his son, "You know nothing of this matter!" Faramir didn't bother to raise his voice as he snapped back before his father had even finished speaking, "he would have taken it for his own. And when he returned, you would not have known your son."
"Boromir was loyal to me! Not some wizard's pupil!" Lurching forward and shouting at his son, the steward had broken the final straw for Elrin. She knew the Lord of Gondor had truly gone mad. The man stumbled backward, falling against the stairs, Faramir stepping forward towards his father. "Leave me," Faramir stopped, bowing slightly before leaving the hall his father turned away from his son, allowing her to leave quickly without being seen following Faramir once more, wishing to speak to him outside of his father's hearing.
"Lord Faramir," greeting him cordially, she offered him the same small bow she offered to the other delegates of the kindreds. "Lady Elrin," walking swiftly alongside Faramir, she carefully asked, "What of the halfling Frodo's quest do you know?" The question was phrased as not to reveal anything that would not be already known, "I know of it and of its purpose but very near to no more." Elrin was surprised, Faramir clearly, unlike his brother, had experience in the talking circles she knew from many years as a diplomat for Rivendell. For in the courts of men and elves alike, this was a necessity, even if she occasionally wanted to forgo the complex speech, such as now. So, she did, saying bluntly, "You were wise to send the ring to Mordor."
Faramir glanced at her looking slightly confused. She shrugged off his confusion, "The ring nearly took control of your brother when the council was held in Rivendell. If it had been brought here, it would have taken your father, you, or any of the men of Gondor. Your father does not see the wisdom of your decision, the wisdom that resembles that of the Kings of old." Her voice was wistful. She wondered how long until Aragorn would arrive with the Rohirim when her brothers would come to fight at her side once more.
She missed her family, for she was alone amongst the kindred of men having long since chosen to embody the race of elves. Opening her mouth to speak, she said, "I see in you what many see in me. We are both leaders, but you are one for your people. Not on the fields of battle, like your brother, but in the world that comes after," her words giving the validation she knew his father would continue to strip away. "While your brother was a man for the fields of war, your strengths lay elsewhere, and your father will see that. He will see his son's strength," a small hope flared on Faramir's face, and Elrin grinned. "Now I am going to leave you here," glancing over her shoulder, she saw Pippin running up dressed in the livery of a Citadel guard. "But remember what I said," she turned away, hearing Faramir speak. "Thank you, my Lady," she looked back over her shoulder, smiling back at him. "Call me Elrin, and you're welcome," moving off down the corridor and rounding the corner.
A disorienting rush poured through her, and she stumbled to the ground. She felt one of the bonds in her heart thin. Fear flooded her mind as she sat down hard, leaning against the cool marble pillars. Gasping for air she struggled to her feet. "Arwen," she thought frantically, worry flooding her mind, but then the sensation faded, and she felt more than knew that her beloved sister had made her choice.