An Unexpected Journey

Mordor

Previously:
"I hold your oath fulfilled." Aragorn said calmly in reply, dissipating any hostile feelings almost immediately. The Ghost King's face took on a relieved expression and he leaned back. "Go. Be at peace."

In a breath of cold wind, the ghost army blew away.

Annabeth now stood with Percy and Clarisse in the throne room of Gondor. Denethor had thrown himself off the walls of the city after almost burning himself and his son Faramir alive. Boromir was now with his brother. Apparently, even though Boromir actually lived, Denethor actually got it in his head that he had died. Faramir had heard it from Frodo and Sam when they passed through but it was corrected by Pippin when he and Gandalf arrived some time ago.

King Théoden was found next to Éowyn on the battle field. Éowyn is in the infirmary but Théoden died before they could get to him. Annabeth knew that the princess of Rohan would recover but it was still unnerving to see her so broken and lost. Aragorn worked what elf magic he knew on her but she still seemed empty.

The fellowship (except for Merry, who was in the infirmary and Pippin, who was with himwere both in the infirmary) was now meeting with the leader of Rohan, Éomer, and the demigods to discuss what should happen next.

"Frodo has passed beyond my sight." Gandalf was saying. "The darkness is deepening." He paced back and forth, filled with worry.

"If Sauron had the ring, we would know it." Aragorn said, almost scolding.

"It's only a matter of time." Gandalf sighed.

"He does not have the ring," Annabeth assured them. "But he and Sam need all the help they can get. We have defeated his army here, we have shown that we are more than he expected."

"He suffered a defeat, yes," Gandalf admitted. "But behind the walls of Mordor, our enemy is regrouping."

He sounded ominous, weighed down with the heaviness of the events. He seemed too sorrowful for hope.

"Let him stay there," Gimli said carelessly. "Let him rot! Why should we care?"

"I'm with the dwarf," Clarisse said. "He's defeated now, if he comes out, it's at his own risk!"

"Because 10,000 orcs now stand between Frodo and Mount Doom." Gandalf said shortly. He eyed both Gimli and Clarisse, who both made an 'oh' shape with their mouths and said nothing. Gimli put down his pipe and stopped his smoking.

"I have sent him to his death," Gandalf said, sounding more and more like he was the one defeated.

"No," Aragorn and Percy both said almost immediately. "There is still hope for Frodo. He needs time and safe passage across the plains of Gorgoroth. We can give him that."

"How?" Gimli asked doubtfully.

"Draw out Sauron's armies. Empty his lands," Aragorn said, growing more and more confident. "Then we gather our full strength and march on the Black Gate."

Gimli coughed suddenly. Percy grinned. "He's crazy, let's do it."

"It is the only way we can rid ourselves of this plague," Boromir suddenly appeared at the entrance to the room. "Let us ride. If only to avenge the ones we have lost."

"We cannot achieve victory through strength of arms." Éomer spoke up.

"Not for ourselves," Aragorn agreed. "But we can give Frodo his chance if we keep Sauron's eye fixed upon us. Keep him blind to all else that moves."

"A diversion." Legolas realized, proudly.

"Certainty of death," Gimli started cheerfully. "Small chance of success..." he gave a puff on his pipe. "What are we waiting for?"