Sons of Thunder II: Where the Shadows Lie

by ziggy3

Gondor adjusts to Peace, but there are artefacts in the ruined cities of Mordor and Eregion that are of value to those who are not so pleased about the return of the King. The Fellowship are drawn into the pursuit of one of these artefacts, especially since a body has been discovered, drained of blood. Legolas, Gimli, Pippin, Merry, Gandalf, Aragorn, Elrohir, Elladan.

34. Chapter 34 Gimli Gloinsson

Chapter 34: Gimli Gloinsson

Chapter Text

Chapter 32: Gimli Gloinsson

Gimli strode quickly from the house of the fellowship through the streets of the city. He had the note he had found in the kitchen neatly folded in his pocket and his fingers brushed against it as he walked. Gimli himself had written it, bidding Legolas join him. But that had been weeks ago, when it had been discovered that Kustîg had escaped, and Legolas had said he had not received it. Gimli frowned, trying to remember who could have taken it for he had given it to a messenger boy in the palace. It would be easy to find the boy and ask him.

Here in the upper level of the city, fog had rolled down from the Mindolluin, across the Hallows and through the Citadel Square. It crept into all the corners and silent places of the city and pressed coldly against Gimli's skin, misted in his hair and beard, but there was an oily residue in his mouth and he wiped his lips in disgust as he crossed the Citadel Square towards the Gatehouse of the King's Palace.

There were more people around the Gatehouse, but with the thickening fog they seemed distant, as if moving on the other side of opaque glass and the houses around the square had disappeared. Someone jogged his elbow in the shoving crowd and Gimli glared up at the Man who had pushed him. There was a sense of nervous excitement, of suppressed violence and anticipation amongst the liveried servants and equerries who clustered about the Gatehouse. It reminded him of the eve of battle, like the night before the Battle of the Five Armies when the Elves and Men of Esgaroth and Dale had stood between the Iron Hills and their kin in Erebor. Or before the Morannon.

The fog's cold tendrils curled and coiled about his ankles, legs, and pressed into his mouth. He shuddered. There was something unpleasant about its clinging dampness.

He pushed through the cluster of people towards the heavy wooden outer gates to the Palace. There was a smaller door set into the gates so that people might pass through without the great gates being opened. Since Aragorn had arrived, the gates had always stood wide open but now both the great gates and the smaller inner gate were firmly shut and bolted. Before the gates stood two guards that Gimli did not recognise, but their faces were mean, pinched and their armour did not gleam, Gimli noted disapprovingly. One of them slouched against the wall and watched the crowd greedily and the other had leaned his pike against the gate and was picking his teeth.

Gimli stood before the two guards, and leaned on his axe. He fixed them with his earth-brown eyes and smiled appraisingly, showing his teeth. 'The Lord Gimli Gloinsson to see the King,' he announced and somehow was not surprised when they did not leap to attention, salute and usher him with all pomp and ceremony. Something was wrong here, he felt it in his bones, in the rock and stone of the city. And there was that message he had shoved into his pocket. The fog seemed to swallow his voice.

The bigger of the two guards straightened up from his slouch and with a sneer on his face, said, 'If you do not have a pass, you cannot enter the Palace.'

Gimli looked at him intently, as he would rock and stone to see where the mithril or gold seam was buried deep. 'I do not think you heard me,' he said slowly for the Man must be very dim. 'I am Gimli Gloinsson, companion to the King. I bring tidings from Mithrandir. I am the envoy of the King. It would be stupid,' he said emphatically, 'not to let me in.'

The other guard stopped picking his teeth and watched with an unpleasant smile on his thin lips. Now he shifted but it was to take a dagger from his belt and clean his nails with it. Gimli lifted his lip in disdain: did they think to intimidate him?

'Your captain will hear of your insolence,' Gimli said acerbically. 'I cannot imagine Beregond will appreciate how poorly you represent the Tower Guard.'

The other guard now swaggered forwards and stood deliberately close, towering over Gimli. 'Beregond?' He spat aggressively into the dust. 'It is Salkathôr in charge now.' His hand was on his sword and he pulled it a little from its sheath.

Gimli widened his stance and planted his feet on the stones of the city, let the stones feel him there, and hefted his axe, and though the mist about his feet seemed to thicken strangely as if it sought to suffocate Gimli's connection, he felt the good rock beneath sing. It gave him strength. 'And I suppose you are his lacky!' he said with sardonic brightness.

'I am Lieutenant Urithôr,' the guard bent down towards Gimli to look him in the eye. It was unquestionably an insult and Gimli bared his white teeth.

And then someone touched Gimli's arm and he turned suddenly, hand on his throwing axe. In the mist he could make out the figure of a Man standing close by.

'My lord Gimli?' the Man murmured softly. 'Do you remember me? Arduin. I fought with you at the Morannon and went with Legolas to Minas Morgul.' He bowed slightly and Gimli looked at him carefully. The Man had an open face and clear eyes.

'You were one of those who were on the Rath Dinén the night we found Ioralas.' He nodded at the Man. His face crumpled a little, soft with a grief that Gimli saw in many faces of those in the city, for it was still mourning its dead. And then he remembered that the Man had been more than a friend of Ioralas, and winced at his clumsiness.

'Yes, my lord.' Arduin flicked a quick look at Urithôr, whose face had hardened into a sneer. Arduin leaned towards Gimli. 'I bear greetings from Mithrandir who bids you come. He needs your help.' He tugged gently, urgently at Gimli's sleeve and cut a quick look at the guard. 'Urithôr, I will take the Lord Gimli to Mithrandir as he is bid.'

'Are you not supposed to be guarding the Steward, Arduin?' Urithôr had a sly look on his face. 'Have you abandoned your post? That is a court martial. Salkathôr will hear of this.' His smile was unpleasant and cruel.

Mist curled around their feet and pressed damply against Gimli but he noted the point that Faramir was under guard. Why was that? he wondered. A horrid little suspicion sneaked its way into Gimli's thoughts: Faramir must have committed some heinous crime. Treason? No. He would never do that. Gimli folded his arms over his chest as if to keep away the nasty thoughts, the damp fog.

Arduin pressed his lips together for a moment and then said, 'I have just told you that I am sent to find Lord Gimli by Mithrandir, Urithôr. And you know that there were two of us. Cendir was also on guard duty.'

'Lieutenant Urithôr,' the Man corrected with a nasty smile. 'So Cendir has stayed while you deliver messages like an errand boy.' Arduin did nothing to correct Urithôr and his face was impassive. 'I suppose that is all you are good for now with Beregond dismissed.'

Arduin's face was tight but he said nothing.

Gimli frowned. 'Beregond dismissed?' This did not bode well. Something was happening of which he knew nothing. He cast a look at the guards appraisingly and leaned towards Arduin. He spoke out of the side of his mouth is a loud whisper, 'I can take 'em.' He clasped the haft of his axe in readiness. 'In fact, it will give me joy.'

Urithôr took a step forwards but Arduin's hand fell onto Gimli's shoulder with the familiarity of Aragorn or Legolas, and Gimli instinctively turned towards him and allowed himself to be pulled away. 'Mithrandir needs you, my lord,' Arduin murmured softly as he steered Gimli away with an assurance that Gimli found touching and amusing at the same time.

'You overstep yourself, Arduin.' Urithôr called after him threateningly. 'The king has ordered no-one passes either here or to see the Steward. Now get back to your post before you are arrested yourself for abandoning it, and take the Dwarf with you.'

Gimli opened his mouth and took a breath but Arduin put his hand on his arm and muttered, 'Come my lord. Let us do as we are ordered.' And in a lower voice he added, 'We do the bidding of Mithrandir, not this gutter-filth.' And although it cost Gimli much in pride and honour to walk away from the bullying, sneering Urithôr, he did follow Arduin and vowed in his heart that he would return for satisfaction from Urithôr.

'This way, my lord.' Arduin beckoned to Gimli but the Man glanced back frequently over his shoulder through the dense fog towards the Gatehouse and Gimli did not like that. 'They are not true Tower Guards, my lord,' said Arduin once they were out of sight of the Gatehouse. 'They have no sense of honour and have never taken the vows we make to protect Gondor whatever the cost, whatever the risk to ourselves.' He looked down at the Dwarf. 'Beware of Urithôr, my lord. He is cowardly and violent.'

Arduin led Gimli along the Square. 'In the assault against Osgiliath Urithôr hid amongst the citizens and pretended to defend them. But in truth he robbed them and was the first to flee.' They made their way along the long wall that ran down one side of the Square and behind this was the Palace and the Steward's House. 'I do not know how he had come to be here except that Maltök knew him well, but no one has seen Maltök for days.'

From his tone, Gimli thought that Arduin probably thought this no great loss. He followed Arduin thoughtfully. The mist hung over the city, and damp curled his beard and hair. He smoothed it down crossly for the damp made his hair and beard crinkly and curly and entirely unmanageable.

The Steward's Porch, which was traditionally left open and largesse distributed to the Poor, was also locked and bolted and the fog clung to the stones. The air felt oily and as he breathed in, Gimli found himself feeling resentful, angry at Aragorn for making it so difficult. Some King he was turning out to be! Maybe it would have been better for Faramir to remain as Steward.

He shook himself. Where did that come from?

'Through here, my lord,' Arduin said softly and unlocked the gate to the Steward's porch. Gimli followed him in and they stood in the gardens that linked the Palace and the Steward's house. 'This way. The path goes through the Rose Garden and takes us directly to the King's own study. The King wanted there to be no obstacles between him and Faramir when he first became King.' He sighed. 'How all that has changed, and in such a short time.'

'What has happened with Faramir?' Gimli asked, feeling something had been staring him in the face but that he was missing. Indeed, ever since he and Gandalf had galloped off on a hunt for Fool's Gold, they had been missing something. The Mirror had never left Minas Tirith. The ghoul was here. Still. And Beregond had been dismissed, in his place these thugs.

'Faramir has been arrested. He is accused…' Arduin stopped and turned to Gimli, his eyes full of concern. 'I had best tell you everything now as Mithrandir bid me. But I beg you, my lord, hear me out and let me tell you all before you…'

'Before I what?' Gimli narrowed his eyes.

'My lord Gimli, Mithrandir bid me give you a message and I know not how to do as he said. He said deliver it kindly but I do not have the words or skill to do this gently.'

'What are you talking about?' Gimli scowled impatiently. 'Have you gone soft in the head? What message? What tidings?

Arduin took a deep breath and faced Gimli. 'Faramir has been arrested and accused of having plotted against Legolas.' He shook his head as if he might rid himself of the words and Gimli stared. 'I have terrible news. Legolas has disappeared. In the Hallows, my lord. We have not seen him for over a week.'

'What!' Gimli cried. 'A week!' He was furious; how could a week have gone by and Aragorn sent no word? And how could Legolas have not returned? A nightmare of possibilities opened in his mind; Legolas wounded. Worse. The message crumpled in his fist suddenly took on a whole new meaning. There had been a trick. A plan. Someone had deliberately taken that message and used it much later to lure Legolas somewhere.

'We have searched for him in vain my lord,' Arduin continued, distressed. 'We have been all over the Hallows. But whilst there are traces of his passing, a thread, a hair, we have searched the tombs, the hillside, everywhere and found nothing more but a button that is worn only by the Stewards. It is that which has been cited as evidence against Faramir.'

Gimli glared at him furiously. He wasn't interested in Faramir. Anyone could have dropped a button. What he wanted to know was where Legolas was. 'What was Legolas doing over in the Hallows?' he demanded, his fist crushing the haft of his axe because he needed to feel something that would not give, wanted to be grinding granite into dust with this dreadful news.

'They say Legolas went over the wall to the Hallows in pursuit of some creature and has not been seen since. We are summoning the guard to search for him.'

Gimli knew immediately what had happened. Legolas had gone after the Ghoul. But he knew as well that the Ghoul had lured the Elf into the Hallows and now he was injured or trapped. He could not bear to think anything worse. And he did not hear anything else Arduin might have said for he had already shouldered his axe and strode off shouting, 'Aragorn!' He turned his head briefly towards Arduin and flung over his shoulder, 'You had better tell Gandalf to bring Beregond and some of YOUR troops. And get himself here quick.'

Through the Rose Garden he strode and flung open the glass doors to Aragorn's study. There was no one there, but on the polished desk, placed carefully as if whoever had put them there had done so thoughtfully, was a long wheat-gold hair that Gimli knew was Legolas'. Beside it was a deep green thread that Gimli knew had come from his tunic, for hadn't Gimli himself sewn up the sleeves in tight little stitches to stop the Elf from unravelling the cuff. And a silver button. Slowly, Gimli's hand hovered over the hair, the thread, and then he picked up the button and squinted at it. The Tree of Gondor and Numenor was carefully etched onto the silver dome. It was exquisite work, he acknowledged, and knew this was expensively crafted work. Could Faramir really have been behind Legolas' disappearance? Certainly Legolas would follow if the Steward bid him, thought Gimli, staring down at the button. And Faramir only had to intercept the messenger boy to have obtained Gimli's note and to send it to Legolas when it suited Faramir to bring Legolas to the Hallows.

No. He shook his head. What motive could Faramir possibly have to hurt Legolas?

And then he remembered the feast, and Legolas leaning back, sliding his arm along the back of Eowyn's chair, leaning his head towards hers attentively, laughing with her, and her eyes on Legolas. Faramir had watched the pair miserably and picked at his food. Gimli sighed. It was as good a motive as any, he acknowledged.

He pocketed the silver button and strode determinedly towards the ornately carved and inlaid doors that led from the King's own study and into the Great Hall. He threw open the doors and marched into the great hall.

Gimli had been impressed the first time he saw the Great Hall for the intricately patterned marble floors opened out and the statues of Kings lined the hall. Sunlight came through the great high windows and illuminated the white marble inlaid with coloured stone. The high colonnade and cloisters that lined the great hall were elegantly tall. There was a small gathering of people at the far end of the Hall, well dressed lords and ladies milling about, fans fluttering and eyes wide with excitement or fear, Gimli neither knew nor cared. But there were also guards posted at intervals throughout the hall and Gimli did not remember them being there before he left the city with Gandalf.

'Tell the King I am here,' he declared loudly and grumpily as he passed a wide-eyed footman. And then he added, 'Never mind. I will tell him myself,' and walked straight ahead. The guards began to stand up straighter and shift uncomfortably. One burly guard began to move from the other side of the hall as if to intercept Gimli and Gimli, marching purposefully onwards, let his hand fall upon his throwing axe as he surreptitiously checked the roulettes in his vambraces and let his fingers drift over his leather jerkin for the dirks and knives hidden. He did not look at the guards for now there were more walking towards him and they had quickened their pace.

Suddenly a little fat man hurried up to him, hands fluttering. 'My lord Gimli! How unexpectedly well-timed! We are expecting you but not for a little while. This way!'

It was Aragorn's personal clerk, Gimli remembered. Aradhel. Gimli was about to push past him when he saw how the clerk shot him a complicit look, and then craned his neck to look around Gimli at the guards, his face wary and anxious. He allowed himself to be diverted.

And then he saw through a doorway a Hobbit sitting despondently on a chair far too high for him, head in his hands.

Pippin.

'This way my lord,' Aradhel ushered him towards the small antechamber where Pippin sat. There were trays and platters of dainties and pastries but only a few had been eaten. The other Hobbits were there too and equally concerned or despondent.

'Gimli!' Pippin hopped off his chair and trotted towards him. He smiled at Aradhel who quickly shut the door behind him almost in the guards' faces.

'Where is Gandalf?' asked Frodo quickly.

'He is on his way,' Gimli assured them. 'He has sent a message to me to bring me here.'

'Good,' said Pippin. 'We need him! Aragorn has gone mad and Legolas has been taken by the Ghoul! We are sure of it, aren't we?' He looked around at the other Hobbits, whose faces were grave and sad.

Gimli nodded. 'I have come to the same conclusion myself.'

'My lords,' said Aradhel anxiously, glancing at Pippin. 'It is true that this is very serious but I do not think the King is mad. Indeed, I am certain he is bespelled.'

'Yes. I have been thinking the same. There is some dark force at work here that has taken our friend and is at work here in the court it feels,' said Frodo and he rubbed at his shoulder almost unconsciously and then stopped suddenly. 'It feels of the Nazgûl even though it cannot be.'

Gimli found himself nodding. 'The air in the city, or at least up here, feels like that too…that sort of.. oiliness.'

'I think it's Bearos,' said Pippin with certainty.

Aradhel's eyes were wide and anxious. 'You too?' He looked at the Hobbits and said, 'Bearos has been here working late with the King every night, long after all others have gone. Normally I would stay and do things for him but since he took Bearos to his side, I am dismissed almost immediately. Ever since Bearos came into the King's favour we have seen Faramir arrested, Beregond dismissed, and the Tower Guards replaced with these thugs. And the lord Legolas is gone. Bearos is isolating the King.' Aradhel wrung his hands in distress and whispered, 'But there is more! He seems to have not only the King but half of his council under his spell. The rest are conspiring I am sure, to rescue Faramir and put him on the throne instead.' He shook his head wretchedly. 'I have no evidence, my lords. But I hear things whispered in the corners and shadows. I see how the equerries scuttle between their lords. I watch who talks to whom and I know where the alliances are. There will be rebellion.'

Gimli nodded and clasped the fat little Man's arm in solidarity. 'We will bring him back. We will restore Aragorn to himself and we will find Legolas.' He hefted his axe. 'And I will give him a good thumping if he does not. Pippin!' Gimli beckoned to Pippin and the other hobbits crowded around him. 'You will come with me. Sam, you stay with Frodo. Merry, you come with me too.'

Frodo opened his mouth to protest but before he could speak, Sam looked Gimli squarely in the eye. 'Begging your pardon, Gimli, but Frodo and I will be going with you, won't we?'

Frodo smiled tightly. 'I wouldn't miss this for the world!'

'I will send one of my clerks to wait for Gandalf and bring him here,' Aradhel said excitedly and Gimli nodded gravely. Clerks they may be and not warriors, he thought, but clerks and servants could go places warriors could not, do things quietly, surreptitiously. A good ally indeed. Aradhel's eyes were alit with fervour at Gimli's command. Here was one who loved Aragorn, thought Gimli approvingly. He would do as Gimli bid.

The Hobbits trotted alongside Gimli excitedly as the Dwarf strode to the door and threw it open, marching back into the great hall. 'Tell the King that I am here,' he said loudly to the Great Hall in general. 'Tell him that I demand his attention for I have news from Umbar and tidings from Gandalf.' He lowered his voice threateningly, used the power of the Khazâd to command rock and stone, felt the bones of the Men move under the power of his voice. 'Tell him that I will not wait.'

One of the burly guards pushed himself away from the wall against which he slouched and began to walk towards Gimli purposefully, as they had before, his shifty eyes narrowed and fastened upon Gimli. Gimli realised then that they had not been fooled for a moment by Aradhel and merely waited for him to reemerge. But they did not know the Khazâd. And they did not know that Gimli was armed to the teeth and the Hobbits were as ferocious little warriors as could be. Gimli smiled baring his teeth as another guard moved in.

'Open those doors!' he bellowed, swinging his axe and making his way through the chamber with the inexorability of a landslide. 'I am Gimli Gloinsson and I have tidings from Mithrandir and from Umbar for the ears of the King only.'

Pippin danced around him, grinning and darting glances at the guards. 'I'll take the one on the left,' he hissed loudly.

'And I'll take the one on the right,' Merry joined in with ferocious delight.

'But that only leaves me with the three coming up behind us,' Gimli shot a grin at them both.

But as it happened they did not need to even draw a weapon for at that moment, the heavy double doors that led to the council chamber swung open and a young Man burst from the chamber, followed by an older one close on his heels.

'It is not right that we decide his fate without even the Steward's presence!' declared the younger Man, strident and angry as he entered the hall. There was a fluttering of interest, of darting glances from the cluster of lords and ladies who waited outside the chamber and who had been watching Gimli with interest. The approaching guards faltered momentarily and Gimli strode past the two Men.

The older lord hushed the young Man anxiously, casting Gimli a quick, appraising gaze, and he murmured something to him. Nardol, Gimli remembered. The son of Forlong, and it was Angbor who told him to be silent.

'I care not!' the young Man cried loudly. 'It is a shame upon the King that he allows this!'

The guards shifted and glanced towards the young Man and Gimli paused and turned his head towards Angbor for he had been the first to swear fealty to Aragorn and he was a good man. Gimli did not want to see him come to harm.

Angbor had closed his eyes briefly in fear for his young friend and when he opened them, he addressed Gimli. 'Forgive him my lord. He is young and stupid! He does not know what he says.'

Gimli scowled. 'But I could not agree with him more! The King seems to have taken leave of his senses!' he bellowed as loudly as he could through the still open door. 'It is a good thing you have a Dwarf amongst you to sort it out.' And so saying he strode into the King's chamber and placed himself squarely in the middle of the doorway, barring the entrance effectively.

Aragorn was sitting at the head of the long council table, a few of his lords gathered around with faces grim. In Aragorn's hand was a sheaf of papers which he held aloft and he was speaking passionately. Hirluin, whom Gimli knew quite well, leaned over the polished table, his hands on either side of a number of other papers and seemed to be scrutinising them carefully. He looked up at Gimli's entrance and stared. There was also another Man standing close by but his face seemed inhuman somehow, his jaw overlong and his eyes were blood-shot. He stared at Gimli with something like hatred. He seemed almost half-orc and Gimli was taken aback for a moment. How did Aragorn tolerate such a creature in his city let alone his council chamber?

But the Dwarf would deal with that later. For now he had business with the King. He strode over to Aragorn and Aragorn straightened, met the Dwarf's eye until they stood toe to toe, eye to chest. It made Gimli even grumpier. 'What is this nonsense you command?' he said aggressively, his hair crackling with irritation and his eyes flaming. 'Beregond dismissed, Faramir arrested.'

Behind him, Gimli heard the patter of the Hobbits' feet and a faint cheer from Pippin. He took a breath and shouted loudly, 'Legolas missing! What sort of a King are you that lets his friends wander off so easily and then cannot find them!'

There was a flurry of anger from some of the lords but Aragorn held out a hand. 'Calm yourself, Master Dwarf. I forgive you for the love I bear you. But my patience will only go so far.' His eyes were cold and hard.

'Stop talking like an idiot!' Gimli demanded. He lifted his hand and rapped Aragorn on the head quite hard so the King blinked and pulled back. 'Seems you have lost what little sense you had. Where is this coming from?'

There was an outraged murmur from the assembled lords and one or two rose to their feet. A clatter of swords announced the tardy arrival of the guards that had been outside the chamber and were now approaching Gimli.

Aragorn threw a hand towards the guards to halt them. He drew himself tall. 'You forget yourself, Master Dwarf. I am the King now, not just some Ranger you have travelled with.'

'Travelled with, fought with, ate and drank with, and as Legolas would say, pissed and shit with.' He paused emphatically and met Aragorn's gaze squarely. 'And saved each other's lives over and over and over,' Gimli growled.

But Aragorn remained unmoved. His strong and noble face seemed frozen, stone. His gaze unwavering.

'Salkathôr!' he called, without looking away. A tall, wiry Man swaggered towards them, his thin lips curled into a sardonic smile that boded very ill. Gimli had seen him at the entrance of the hall earlier. This was Beregond's replacement, Gimli remembered, and the Man's hand was on the hilt of his sword, poised. He but needed a reason to draw that sword and fight.

Gimli watched him sharply, gauged the strength of the other Men, the guards, saw the Hobbits readying themselves too. We are not without some chance, the Dwarf thought calculatingly. Would Aragorn let one of his friends be hurt?

The King's next words answered that question for him.

'Escort the Lord Gimli out of here please. If he does not obey, take him to the Tower where he can reflect upon his words.'

Gimli heard the Hobbits gasp behind him and the guards moved around him. There was a murmur from the lords gathered around the table but Gimli knew that they would not see anything amiss with Aragorn's actions; they were used to Denethor and they did not know Aragorn. But Gimli was ready. He swung his axe lightly and planted his feet firmly on the ground.

'Strider!' Sam's voice was reproachful and full of misery. 'What are you doing?' He shook his head in disappointment and for a moment, Aragorn's face flickered and then his eyes went blank.

'That is not my name,' he said coldly. 'I am Elessar, King of the United Kingdom of Gondor and Arnor. And you will do my bidding.'

Suddenly Pippin thrust forward, his face upset and red. 'This is all you!' he cried, pointing at the ugly Man standing behind Aragorn. 'You, Bearos, or whatever your name really is. You're the cause of all this!'

Gimli swung his gaze towards the orc-like Man who was rising to his feet, hands on his breast as if pained, but his eyes, Gimli noticed, were gleeful and wild and his mouth was stretched.

'Me? I am a humble merchant who only seeks to serve the King,' the Man said obsequiously and Gimli was absolutely reminded of Grima Wormtongue. Bearos turned towards the King with his hands outstretched. 'My lord, all I have done is to serve you, but if the lords Perianath wish for me to be sent from your side, I will go immediately. Perhaps I can serve another way.'

'No.' Aragorn's face was creased with effort and he spoke slowly as if it was a huge effort. 'Bearos has done nothing. Salkathôr, take the lords Perianath and the Lord Gimli from here. Take them home and guard them. Make sure they are safe.'

Gimli saw the hefty guards striding towards him and the lords assembled around the table murmured softly and in outrage. But Gimli hefted his axe and braced himself. 'I would like to see them try!' he roared and scowled at Aragorn. 'You would have Frodo and Sam arrested? The two greatest heroes the world has ever known! They went into Mordor and you only have this throne because of them!' He shook his head. 'You should hang your head in shame. Isildur's Heir indeed, and as weak as he after all.'

'Strider!' Sam cried again and Aragorn wavered, closing his eyes and seeming to struggle with some inner demon. But then something happened. Bearos made a circle in the air and Gimli saw something rear up behind Aragorn. A shadow. Darkness. Something seemed to loom over him and Sam gave a cry.

'Aragorn!' It was Frodo this time and Gimli hurled himself towards Aragorn, ready to beat the darkness down though he had no idea how.

But Sam was closer and he reached out to Aragorn and touched him. Suddenly Bearos's hand shot out and he smacked away Sam's hand, and then shoved Sam hard, away from Aragorn so that Sam fell to the ground.

All hell was let loose. The guards leapt forwards, swords drawn and one grasped Frodo, another held a sword to Sam's throat where he had fallen. Gimli hefted his axe and landed the haft of it on the knuckles of the guard so he leapt back and Sam scrambled to his feet. Pippin kicked another on the shins and Merry grabbed Aragorn and shook him. Aragorn stepped back, and the held Merry at arm's length with both hands, his face strangely conflicted. The lords were on their feet shouting, some at the guards and some at the hobbits. And then suddenly there was a blinding white light and a sound imploded and Gimli suddenly couldn't hear anything.

0o0o

Gandalf did not like the way the fog had curled around the Citadel Square and had eased itself into the corners and alleyways of the city. Dense now, he felt it was tricking him and sending him the direction he would not go. More than once he found himself at the mouth of the Rath Dinén as if it would drive him into the Hallows and swallow him. But Narya burned the fog in front of him and showed him the cobbled streets and way back to the Palace. There Gandalf had dealt swiftly with the guards who tried to prevent him from entering the Palace with a quick rap on their heads and a word or two of silencing which left them both standing still and stunned at least long enough for the Wizard to stride past them and into the Palace. The fat little clerk who worked with Aragorn had scuttled up quickly, black robe slung over one arm so he could run more quickly. When he saw Gandalf he beckoned him and bid Gandalf follow him quickly before the King completely lost the Kingdom and did something irreparable.

'As if arresting Faramir is not enough,' grumbled Gandalf, but he ran nevertheless. It seemed things were more dangerous than even he had thought. 'As if losing Legolas is not enough, and bringing the entire Mirkwood force to Minas Tirith is what he seeks!'

The fog was thickest over the gardens and fountains of the Palace and he stuck close to Aradhel, who simply trotted unerringly to the Courtyard of the White Tree, sticking up out of the mist like a gallows. Up the straight path and into the Palace they went. There were no guards at all, which was strange, thought Gandalf, for usually the Tree was guarded.

'My lord, to the Council Chamber, quickly. My lord Gimli is there with the lords Perianath but Bearos is there too and I dread to think what he might do,' Aradhel panted.

Gandalf knew where he was now, but though the fog was outside, he noticed a drift of thin mist snaking over the marble floors, insinuating, winding its way through the Palace. This was no ordinary mist, he knew. It was sorcery.

There was a clamour around the doors to the Council Chamber and it seemed that a troop of guards was forcing its way in whilst lords and ladies and court gentlemen watched in consternation, eyes wide, and some shaking their heads, some murmuring to each other. Gandalf rushed into the chamber after the guards and saw uproar: Gimli was striking a Tower Guard with the haft of his axe but there were two more running towards him, swords drawn. Frodo was shoving another guard away from himself, Pippin was kicking someone and Merry was throwing himself at Aragorn. There were lords and nobles shouting at each other and gesticulating wildly. Gandalf looked for Sam to ascertain that everyone was here. Sam was recoiling from something that Gandalf could not yet see.

And then Aragorn moved and Gandalf saw it; without question, it was the Ghoul. It looked straight at him with its mouth stretched wide in a horrid grin. Its eyes were bulging from its sockets, blood-shot and staring. How had it managed to get in here and only Sam seemed to be aware of it?

'Ólorin!' it laughed horribly, a screeching, grating sound. 'Too late! I have them all! Too late! Too latetoolatetoolate!' It grinned and yammered and its jaw clacked horribly.

Appalled, Gandalf sent a blast of white power across the room. It imploded softly and burst in silence. Everyone slowed and became still and silent. But the Ghoul, with a triumphant expression on its horrible and deranged countenance, moved its hand. Something gleamed in the light, steel-silver. The Ghoul lunged towards Aragorn who turned slowly, lethargically. At the same time, Gimli lunged heavily towards it. Too late. The knife flashed again and the Ghoul thrust towards Aragorn. But somehow, Sam was there and smashed something down onto the Ghoul's hand, smashed it again until the knife flew from its taloned and clawed hands. Sam stood, breathing hard, with one piece of a shattered bowl in his hand that he had snatched up from the table. Blood flooded over Aragon's robes and he sank slowly to the floor like he had crumpled. The Ghoul fled.

Chaos erupted. The lords were on their feet, gathering about Aragorn but the Hobbits and Gimli were already there, easing Aragorn to the floor, bundling cloaks and cushions beneath his head. 'Gandalf!' bellowed Gimli.

'Guards!' Gandalf cried as he rushed to Aragorn's side. 'Block all the exits! Get into the gardens! Search for that creature.'

But the guards now stood in silence and still, like unanimated statues, and suddenly Gandalf knew the truth. The Ghoul had possessed these Men, had animated them with its sorcery. But now it had no use for them and had withdrawn, leaving them as empty husks. It appalled him.

'Gimli, go and find Beregond. He should already be on his way. I sent Cendir to fetch him. Tell him to take his Men and find this Ghoul. Search the Hallows. It will have fled there.'

'That's where Legolas went,' cried Pippin, kneeling beside Aragorn and gently wiping his pale face with a handkerchief. Gimli nodded in understanding and left.

'Yes,' said Gandalf urgently. 'I very much hope it will lead us to him!' Gandalf spared a glance for Aragorn, misery settling into his bones at the Man's white face. Blood soaked his robes and his chest heaved. His eyes darted back and forth from Pippin to Gimli as if he did not understand.

Gandalf flung his staff onto the curved council table and came to the King's side and stood looking down. He squinted then at Aragorn. 'What have we here?' he said softly and narrowed his eyes, seeing beyond the veil of flesh to the spirit. There was a darkness about Aragorn and Gandalf leaned down closer.

The darkness coiled into itself, denser, like the fog that smothered the upper levels of the city. But here, it thickened about the fallen King, became a serpent of darkness and its red eyes glittered at Gandalf maliciously, as if it were pleased with itself.

'Oh I see how I have been duped,' Gandalf muttered angrily with himself. 'You have sent me on a pretty quest.' He strode towards the serpent and it raised its head, tongue flickered over its dry lipless mouth. It seemed to smile.

'Héca, angu!' Gandalf cried and smote it with his staff, with Narya, so the room blazed with light. Smoke poured from Aragorn's shoulders, and the serpent writhed, thrashing its tail and head and opening its jaws wide as if it would engulf Aragorn.

The serpent writhed and thrashed and poured its coils in frenzy over and around and ever more tightly and frenziedly while Gandalf thrust Narya like a spear into its dark coils. The serpent thrashed around Narya's white light and then quite suddenly, it reared up over Gandalf and opened it jaws. Its red eyes glittered maliciously, and it pulled back as if to strike. Poised, it drew up and then, just as Gandalf expected it to strike, it evaporated.

There was nothing left but an oily slick in the air.

Gandalf frowned after it. 'That was a little too easy,' he said and then became aware of shouting, of voices, and he stepped back into the World.

Aragorn was choking now, breathing hard as if he had been suffocating and was now free. His hands pressed against the wound and he squeezed his eyes shut in pain. The lords were on their feet and shouting, some angry, some confused and alarmed.

'Quiet,' said Gandalf slowly, softly and let calm spread. 'It is finished. The darkness has gone.'

'Gandalf?' It was Aragorn. He struggled weakly to sit up but there were hands gently pressing him back.

'Don't move, Aragorn,' Frodo was saying softly for Aragorn's face was white and Frodo's hands were bloody where he had gently pushed Aragorn back. 'You have been badly hurt. But there are healers on their way.'

Sam turned to Gandalf, his face distressed. 'It isn't fair, Gandalf. We come all this way and it should be at peace now. But instead Strider's been hurt and Legolas…we still don't know where Legolas is. Or if he's even still alive.'

Gandalf sighed. 'I know, Sam. I am leaving Aragorn in your care now. I am going to look for Legolas.' He saw Gimli stir and open his mouth, knew he would want to come with Gandalf and he clasped the Dwarf's shoulder. 'Go and find Beregond for me. The Ghoul will come to the Rath Dinén.' He leaned close and whispered in the Dwarf's ear. "Lay a trap for it. We need to capture it, force it to lead us to where it has Legolas. I am sure it is responsible for our friend's disappearance.' Gimli listened intently and nodded. 'Let us hope that he yet lives.'

Gimli turned his warm brown eyes to Gandalf and they were filled with fear and sorrow. 'Trust me, Tharkûn. It will not pass me.'

As he left, there were already healers rushing around and a litter prepared to take Aragorn somewhere more comfortable. Gandalf, no healer himself, could only hope that they could do enough to save him.

0o0o