Chapter soundtrack: 'I See Fire' by Ed Sheeran.
♪ = cue music
† Chp. L †
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"Frodo has passed beyond my sight." Gandalf states in a grim mutter, pacing back to his position within the centre of Minas Tirith's Great Hall, his spirit low in fear of the ring bearer's fate.
"The darkness is deepening."
Legolas crosses his arms over his chest, his head slightly lowered as he observes the wizard's demeanour.
Eomer stands close to his side, the rider's structure broad in comparison to the slim elf.
Gimli casually rests in the steward's chair, a seat now empty due to Denethor leaping from the peak of Minas Tirith while ablaze. The dwarf takes a puff of his pipe, before passing it to the outlaw beside him.
Robin sits next to Gimli on the steps which lead to Gondor's throne. She takes a drag, allowing the smoke to freely drift from her lips. In her other hand, she flips one of her stained daggers.
Aragorn stands with crossed arms, his back towards the others.
"If Sauron had the ring we would know it." He remarks with a hardened, unwavering tone.
"It's only a matter of time." Gandalf utters in deep concern, his voice soft in apprehension as he stops to face the man. Silence arises, and the wizard continues.
"He has suffered a defeat, yes, but behind the walls of Mordor our enemy is regrouping."
"Let him stay there! Let him rot!" Gimli barks up, smoke puffing from his mouth as he takes another draw of his pipe. "Why should we care?"
Gandalf furrows his brows as he turns his view to the rowdy dwarf.
"Because ten thousand orcs now stand between Frodo and Mount Doom." The wizard claims, slowing pacing forward with a stern gaze, before turning to face the direction of Aragorn.
Robin quietly stands to her feet and slinks over to Legolas. She slides in beside him, and leans in close enough for only the elf to hear her restrained voice.
"Thanks for comforting me last night." She whispers, her gaze remaining ahead. "However, if you tell anybody, you'll regret it."
"How so?" The elf questions, raising his brows.
There is a moment of silence between the two, filled by their unfocused attention on Aragorn and Gandalf's debate, before Robin thinks up a seemingly good consequence.
"I'll tell everyone you wear lady knickers." The outlaw threatens, crossing her arms as she slightly grins.
"And leave them wondering as to how you know?" Legolas fires back, raising his head in subtle victory.
Robin huffs, gritting her teeth at the elf's wits.
"Bloody elves." She curses, though louder than intended, and her eyes widen as she realises everyones attention has been focused on her upon interrupting a pondering silence.
"Are... amazing creatures?" Robin continues, verbally stumbling for the right words as she notices the unimpressed expression upon both Gandalf and Aragorn's faces.
Legolas raises an amused brow.
"Guards!" Aragorn calls, and as if leering out of the blue, two armed men step over to Robin and latch onto her arms. She squirms, though their grip is iron tight.
The outlaw's eyes widen, and Aragorn furrows his brows in utter confusion.
"What are you doing?" He questions, sending the guards an irritated glance.
"Escorting her out, as you were about to order my lordship." One of the armoured men replies, rather confused himself. The other guard hesitantly loosens his hold on Robin's arm, and Legolas grips onto her shoulder.
Aragorn briefly closes his eyes, slowly breathing out in annoyance.
"Release her, and muster your men." The heir to Gondor orders, cleary irritated. Both guards are slightly baffled as they step away from Robin, also rather unsettled by the bitter glare they receive from the elf. The outlaw smirks at the two men, raising a brow as she turns and crosses her arms.
"You heard the man, off you go." She beams, rather satisfied by the clear distaste of both guards. Without another word, their heavy footsteps echo throughout the empty hall as they exit through the large doors, leaving behind a lingering silence within the last debate.
"The men have only just fought, you cannot expect another battle so soon." Gandalf argues against Aragorn's command. "What is to come of another great loss?"
"There is still hope for Frodo." The heir remarks. "He needs time and safe passage across the plains of Gorgoroth. We can give him that."
"How?" Gimli questions in hesitance.
"Draw out Sauron's armies. Empty his lands. Then we gather our full strength and march on the Black Gate." Aragorn informs, turning to face the son of Gloin, apparent steward of Gondor.
Gimli chokes on his pipe, releasing a cloud of smoke as his eyes widen.
"We cannot achieve victory through strength of arms." Eomer retorts, stepping forward as his hand rests upon the hilt of his sword out of pure instinct.
"Not for ourselves." Aragorn debates, his tone remaining steady against all the interrogation in which he receives. "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 pipes up like the smart little elf he is.
"Certainty of death, small chance of success, what are we waiting for?" Gimli barks, becoming rather excited by the whole ordeal as he continues to puff on his pipe.
"Sauron will suspect a trap." Gandalf utters, lowering his voice as he comes in close to Aragorn. "He will not take the bait."
Aragorn holds the wizard's eyes, a small grin etching onto his features.
"Oh, I think he will."
No more words come from Gandalf, as he has no choice but to trust the will of Gondor's rightful heir.
"All we have to do is get Gimli to take his shirt off." Robin remarks, smirking as she steps over to the dwarf and plucks the pipe from his hand. She takes a huff, receiving humoured glances from all except Gimli.
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↛ Røbin's P.Ø.V ↚
♪
For an extrovert who loves to be around others, I am finding isolation to be rather comforting of late. Maybe it's the sudden appreciation of scenery that isn't constantly filled with fighting, or maybe it's just the simple fact that my mind hasn't shut up in the last couple of days, and I need time to listen and ponder on my thoughts. Whatever the case, distancing myself from others during this period of time has proven to work best for my mental stability.
I take in a deep breath of air, observing the view of a brewing Mordor from the peak of Minas Tirith. Leaning against the stone ledge, I allow the cool breeze to flow through my hair and drift to the court behind me. The sky fades to the warm colours of a sun falling to rest, though clouding the vibrant array with shrouds of darkness looms the land of Mordor, an evil hue emitting from the black peaks.
The sight once struck fear within me, however I now look upon the dark land with a dull gaze, unaffected by the low rumbles and wisps of fire which emerge from across the plain.
I have already faced what leers behind the black gates, and suffered at the hands of Sauron's army. My heart has already been shredded due to the falling of loved ones by the brutal force of evil.
What more can it take from me?
If anything, the fire within my heart has been kindled with heightened determination to see Sauron fall. Frodo and Sam need us, and no matter how much danger may confront us, we will not leave the halflings to face the wrath of Sauron on their own.
If we die, we all die together.
Legolas' words from the night before have been playing through my head since the moment he uttered them. He is right, I do need to stop doubting myself. Sauron may have dampened my spirits for a short period of time, however I am coming back stronger than ever.
Eowyn is alright, I was by her side the moment I came to realise she had awoken. However, her arm is broken meaning she needs to heal, so in honour of her bravery and desire for battle, I will fight with both her and my passion behind each stroke.
My thoughts wonder back to the elf, and the words in which he uttered last night.
Did he really mean what he said? Does he truely think that highly of me?
A sensation of warmth spreads throughout my lower abdomen, and to be completely honest, it frightens me.
"Not a warrior, eh?"
My mind snaps back to reality at the smooth voice behind me. I turn my head, and I can't help but bear a genuine smile at the sight of Aragorn's kind face.
"Well, if it isn't my unbiological father coming to say hello, and most likely comfort me from the mayhemic events of yesterday." I remark, sighing as I turn my gaze back to the vast plains. "It's okay, I've picked myself up and I'm moving on."
The air shifts as I feel Aragorn position himself beside me, also leaning himself against the stone barrier.
"You fought well." Is all he says. I raise a brow.
"And you weren't there for half of it, but thank you." I reply chucking him an amused smirk. Though, I am rather confused as to how he even saw me fighting, for I don't remember seeing him.
"No, but so I have heard." He claims, turning his head in my direction. "Gandalf informed me of your leadership over the Gondorian soldiers whilst guarding the western battlements of Minas Tirith."
I meet Aragorn's gaze, and it is now that I notice the hint of pride which flickers within his soft eyes.
"I also witnessed you defeat the Haradrim chief, a great feat." He praises in a steady tone, though his expression seems to grow dull as he utters his next line.
"I am sorry for your loss."
Raising my gaze, I meet his eye, slightly nodding in appreciation of his condolence.
"Nothing I'm not used to." I mutter.
A silence falls between us, as we both observe the clouded lands of Mordor, until Aragorn once again speaks up, though this time his voice seems to hold a softer edge.
"As a ranger, I had received countless bounties to capture the devious Robin Hood. Which would not have been difficult, for you are not great at covering your tracks." He remarks, raising a brow. "Though I never accepted, for I admire the will of your heart."
I furrow my brows, curious as to what the man is getting at.
"You say you are not a warrior, though for years before this journey began, you lead a battle of your own. You fight for those less privileged whilst the threat of execution from high kings follows close behind." He continues, and I feel his words pour through my body like a refreshing cup of water, cleaning away all the negative thoughts I hold against myself. "You do not fear persecution in the actions you take to care for others, a true aspect of leadership. In the eyes of many, you are a symbol of hope, and courage is awarded with honour."
My eyes widen as Aragorn draws his sword in my direction, before flipping the blade and holding out the handle.
"Lead the final battle with me."
I feel my body tense at the gesture and command. Never would I have imagined myself to lead a war against Middle Earth beside the heir to the throne of kings.
My mouth goes dry, though masking my shock, I reach out and slowly take the blade by its handle. Lifting it, I observe the silver metal, surprised at how light the weapon feels in comparison to the size. A thought raises in my mind, and my brows furrow in confusion.
"What about you? Don't you need a sword?" I question, noticing Aragorn's look of pride as he observes the slim blade within my grasp.
A smirk spreads across his face, and suddenly from his side, Aragorn unsheathes a glinting blade which I failed to notice before. The light of the sun seems to shine redly in it, along with the cold light of the moon. Lowering my sword, I observe the hard blade's keen edge. My fingers trace across the seven stars carved upon the gleaming metal, set between the crescent moon and rayed sun.
"Renewed shall be blade that was broken." I utter, looking to Aragorn with wide eyes as he smiles in subtle amusement.
"I have renamed it Anduril, flame of the West." He states, his blade reflecting the glow of the setting sun.
"I thought it was back in Rivendell, as broken as a lightweight on rum." I retort, rather confused by the whole ordeal.
"Elrond ordered his elves to reforge the blade." The man explains, before lowering his gaze as if overrun by a saddening thought. "Arwen chose a mortal life."
I feel a pain in my chest at the realisation of what this means. Aragorn's pretty little elven girlfriend is no longer guaranteed safety from Sauron. If Middle Earth fades, she fades with it, and Aragorn sure as hell doesn't deserve the pain of heartbreak.
"One more reason to kick Sauron's ass." I remark, raising my blade as a new found confidence sparks within me. "It would be an honour to lead beside you, Aragorn of the Dúnedain."
The man raises his gaze as a light smile spreads across his keen features.
"Though, I'm not very good when it comes to fighting with swords." I claim. Sword fighting was never my expertise.
"Well then I shall teach you!" Aragorn declares. With that, he leads me back to the greens of the court. I am rather excited, for sword fighting always did look rather fun, however I gave up on the weapon as a child for it seemed too heavy to yield.
We stand across from each other, raising our blades as if posed for a fight.
"Oh, and to answer your question, no, I'm not a warrior." I pipe up, a slight grin etching onto my face as I witness Aragorn raise a brow.
"I'm a master warrior."
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Writing this chapter is making me realise how close to the end we are ):
Two years it's taken me to write this crazy, witty, and some may say romantic journey of a story, and a massive thank you to all who have stuck around <3
Speaking of which, the next chapter will be the last of our little flashbacks.
Enjoy (;
P.s 60k reads! Holy smokes you guys are amazing <3