Disclaimer: I do not own anything related to Batman and the Gotham Knights. I also don't own anything related to Lord of the Rings. They are the total and complete property of DC Comics and J.R.R. Tolkien.

Author's Note: Hey kiddies. Yes, like the namesake, I have raised form the ashes to bring you more writing. I am REALLY sorry for taking so long to update the story, but my life has been a living hell. College days that go from 8am-11pm straight, work, and just about every other thing that’s gone on has kept me preoccupied not to mention a killer case of writers blocks which was driving me insane. But so you know, I didn’t stop on the story. In fact during this time I personally revived a few chapters and expanded them. I’ll try to update more guys. I promise.

And to all you guys who reviewed and asked for updates, thank you. As always, please review again. It makes for a happy writer.

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Chapter 32
Choices

Gandalf led Robin, Aragorn, Legolas and Gimli into the Golden Hall that was now empty and raising his staff a spark flew out and lit a fire in one of the hearths. He said nothing to the others, but instead paced back and forth deep in thought, digesting all the information that Pippin had told him. In his left hand he held the palantir stone, which he kept wrapped tightly in a blanket.

“Peril comes in the night when least expected,” he finally said suddenly. “We have had a narrow escape.”

“Will Pippin be alright?” Robin asked.

Gandalf nodded. “Yes, he will recover in time. He was not held long, and hobbits have an amazing power of recovery. The memory, or the horror of it, will probably fade quickly. Too quickly perhaps.”

“What of Cassandra?” Legolas inquired. “She too touched that cursed stone and she was struck down by the Eye of Mordor if only for a moment. The Dark One made certain that she too would feel his wrath.”

“Batgirl was merely made an example of by Sauron to try and loosen Pippin’s tongue. She has felt greater wounds in her life and I have little doubt that she too will be fine.” Gandalf fell silent for a bit and weighed the covered palantir in his hand thoughtfully. “I should have taken greater care of it to begin with, but I fell asleep before I had time to study it.”

“Do not blame yourself, Gandalf,” Aragorn said.

“You couldn’t have known Pippin would take it while you were sleeping,” Robin added.

“Perhaps,” Gandalf scowled. “Though I fear that I was wrong to guard the Orthanc-Stone, for it is indeed a dangerous charge. It claimed Saruman and it nearly did the same to Peregrin and Cassandra.”

“Dangerous indeed, but not to all." Everyone turned to look at Aragorn in surprise. "There is one who may claim it by right. For this assuredly is the palantir of Orthanc from the treasury of Elendil, set here by the Kings of Gondor." He paused and took a deep breath. "I will take it."

Gandalf was both shocked and pleased by this statement, as he lifted the covered stoned and bowed to Aragorn as he presented it.

“Receive it, lord,” he said, “in earnest of other things that shall be given back. But if I may counsel you in the use of your own, do not use it - yet. Be wary!”

The exiled King took the stone and his posture dropped, as if he had just taken a great weight upon his shoulders. Only the first of many, that was for certain.

“And what happens now?” asked Gimli, gazing out the window nervously. He half expected Sauron himself to fly in and kill them all.

Gandalf stroked his white beard thoughtfully. “Now we must speak with the King.”

---

Early that next morning the Fellowship and the Rohan court had assembled in the Golden Hall, as Gandalf explained the details of the past evening. Pippin sat to one side of the group in a single chair with Merry and Batgirl standing on either side of him. Batgirl held his hand protectively, but Merry refused to even look at the younger hobbit despite the fact he would not leave Pippin’s side.

“There was no lie in Pippin’s eyes,” Gandalf stated. “A fool…but an honest fool he remains. He told Sauron nothing of Frodo and the Ring. We’ve been strangely fortunate. Pippin saw in the Palantir a glimpse of the enemy’s plan. Sauron moves to strike the city of Minas Tirith.”

“But who’s to say we can trust that vision?” Robin asked. Pippin raised his head, looking hurt by his words but Robin noticed this and quickly amended himself. “I’m not saying Pippin isn’t telling the truth about what he saw, but for all we know Sauron planted those visions into his mind in order to intentionally mislead us. Villains have a very nasty habit of doing that sort of thing, you know.”

“The lad has a point,” Gimli added. “Sauron is a brute, but he’s a crafty one.”

“No, I do not think that is the case this time,” Aragorn replied, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. “Sauron is too confident in his power and will think little of one hobbit over-hearing his true plans. If anything, he may even hope that the vision will dissuade us some.”

Gandalf nodded with the assessment. “His defeat at Helm’s Deep showed our enemy one thing. He knows the heir of Elendil has come forth. Men are not as weak as he supposed. There is courage still, strength enough perhaps to challenge him. Sauron fears this. He will not risk the peoples of Middle-Earth uniting under one banner. He will raze Minas Tirith to the ground before he sees a King return to the throne of Men.” Aragorn’s body tensed upon these words and averted his gaze from the others. “If the beacons of Gondor are lit, Rohan must be ready for war.”

Théoden stood patiently as the wizard spoke, though his face remained impassive. “Tell me,” he began, “why should we ride to the aid of those who did not come to ours?” Everyone in the room looked at the King with either shock or disgust, yet this did not seem to bother Théoden. “What do we owe Gondor?”

“Not again,” Batgirl moaned.

“Are you kidding me?” Robin growled to himself at the same time.

“What was that?” Théoden snapped, looking from one teenager to the other.

“With all due respect your highness, this isn’t a time to allow yourself to be led around by your ego,” Robin said seriously. “Gondor didn’t come to you aid? Well, fine. That seriously sucks big time. But don’t tell me you’re going to let them get slaughtered because your feelings are hurt. Just because they didn’t help you, doesn’t mean you don’t have a responsibility to help them.”

The King looked down incredulously at the boy before him, before looking over at Batgirl who looked ready to join in. The rest of the Fellowship said nothing, since they had long gotten used to the vigilante’s way of stating their minds, no matter whom it was to. Éomer and Éowyn both held their tongues, but the brother and sister seemed somewhat amused but the look on their uncle’s face.

‘Where did Gandalf find these infuriating costumed children?’ Théoden asked himself.

“I will ride,” Aragorn suddenly stated.

Gandalf’s head snapped to the Ranger. “No!” he snapped firmly.

“They must be warned.”

“They will be.” Gandalf walked to Aragorn and spoke to him a whispered voice. “You must come to Minas Tirith by another road. Follow the river. Look to the black ships.”

Aragorn didn’t’ reply, but his grey eyes gazed questioningly at the White Rider. Once again, he had the distinct impression that Gandalf knew far more than what he was telling.

Gandalf turned back to Théoden and the rest of the assembly and spoke in his normal voice again. “Understand this: Things are now in motion that cannot be undone. I ride for Minas Tirith…” he turned his piercing gaze to the far side of the room and the young hobbit seated there, “…and I won’t be going alone.”

---

“Of all the inquisitive Hobbits, Peregrin Took, you are the worst,” Gandalf said aggressively as he walked hastily out of the Meduseld, with Merry and Pippin following close behind. “Hurry! Hurry!”

“Where are we going?” Pippin asked Merry in a low whisper for fear of further angering Gandalf. He took notice that his older cousin was not wearing his elf cloak and looked far more serious and agitated than he was ever used to seeing. He knew that everyone was angry with him for looking into the stone, but it was no excuse for the cold shoulder Merry had been giving him since last night, right?

Merry spared Pippin a narrow-eyed sidelong glance as he followed after Gandalf. “Why did ye look?” he demanded. “Why do ye always have to look?”

“I don’t know,” Pippin replied lamely. “I can’t help it.”

“Ye never can.”

“I’m sorry, all right?” Pippin said, coming to a slow halt. “I won’t do it again.”

Merry froze in mid-step and his entire body tensed into one preverbal white knuckle. “Don’t ye understand?” he snapped. “The enemy thinks YOU have the Ring. He’s going to be looking for you, Pip. They have to get ye out of here.”

Fear suddenly took a strangle hold over Pippin’s heart. “And you? You’re coming with me?” No reply came and instead the other hobbit turned back to follow Gandalf into the Rohan Stables. “Merry?”

“Come on,” Merry ordered.

“Its not fair,” Batgirl said flatly while she watched the Wizard and two hobbits enter the stables from the main doors of the Golden Hall. “Pippin and Gandalf shouldn’t… leave. They could… die by going out alone.”

She had wanted to go down with them, but the others had told her it was best they not for fear of making things harder. She understood their reasoning but it certainly didn’t make things easier for her.

All morning she had watched their behavior and movements. Gandalf’s body had been tensed with anxiety, while Merry was filled with anger and fear. And poor Pippin… He was scared, but more about how he had once against disappointed Gandalf and Merry than the evil of the Dark Lord.

“They have no choice,” Robin replied, as he and Aragorn stepped out besides her. “Sauron knows that a Hobbit has the Ring and he probably thinks that Hobbit is Pippin.”

Tim had kept looking at Cassandra with worried eyes ever since the incident with the palatine. She had not spoken to him about what happened and instead kept her attention solely on Pippin. It seemed that even with the amazing leaps she had made with ‘social interaction’ since they came to Middle-Earth, she continued to hold things close to the vest. She never liked the idea of showing weakness.

“Gandalf is taking Pippin to the safest stronghold outside of Mordor,” Aragorn said reassuringly, though his body language betrayed him. Cass could see that he did not have all that much confidence in Minas Tirith, or rather the man in charge of Minas Tirith.

“But we should be with them,” she said firmly. “I should be with them. Sauron saw me too.”

Aragorn shook his head. “Yes, but his primary concerns are retrieving the Ring and the fall of Gondor. And although he now has a taste for your pain, he will not search you out Batgirl. At least he will not do so yet.”

“You hope,” Batgirl mumbled under her breath.

Aragorn had heard her comment, yet ignored it as he continued: "And besides that, it would be easier that Gandalf and Pippin travel alone and in secret to Minas Tirith, rather than with a large party of people. Even with Saruman’s downfall, there are still spies of the enemy in all corners of Middle-Earth.”

Silence fell as they watched the Shadowfax speed out from the stables of Rohan for a second time in less than two weeks, and again fear and concern gripped their hearts. Only a few seconds after the horse had left, they saw the small form of Meriadoc Brandybuck rocket out and towards the front gates of the city. Aragorn took chase for fear that the remaining hobbit might do something foolish. Batgirl wanted to follow as well, but Robin stopped her.

“Let him handle it.”

“Merry!” Aragorn called. But Merry either did not hear him or just chose to ignore him. Instead he raced up to the top of one of the guard towers and moving to a low wall, gazed out over the land, his eyes following the lone white horse and its two riders. A moment later, Aragorn was standing behind him.

“He’s always followed me,” Merry said softly, “everywhere I went, since before we were tweens.” A playful smiled tugged at his lips. “I would get him into the worst sort of trouble, but I was always there to get him out. And now he’s gone. Just like Frodo and Sam.”

The smile had faded as quickly as it had appeared and Merry turned to look at Aragorn who placed a comforting hand on his shoulder.

“One thing I have learned about Hobbits: They’re a most hardy folk.”

“Foolhardy, maybe,” Merry replied with a weak half-smile. “He’s a Took.”

---

“Are you certain that this is a wise idea?” Éomer asked from his seat besides his sister and Gimli. They watched as Robin and Legolas stood on either side of Batgirl in matching fighting stances. Batgirl on the other hand stood casually, with her hands on her hips and her eyes closed. “Two men against one woman seems hardly fair sparring match.”

“Lad, I’d have thought by now ye’d have learned not to underestimate that what you do not understand,” Gimli replied. “Ye were not there during the main fight of Helm’s Deep, but had ye been you would know that this fight is indeed not fair. For Robin and the elf that is.” Éomer looked skeptical, but Éowyn and Gimli shared knowing smiles.

At last Batgirl raised her head, though her eyes remained shut. “Go,” she commanded.

Robin and Legolas both sprinted foreword. Robin leapt up into the air and swung his leg out with a flying inwards heel kick, while Legolas came at Batgirl with a low hook kick. Éomer tensed at the attack and looked ready to jump up to Cassandra’s aid, except she reacted first.

Batgirl’s eyes snapped open and she immediately back flipped out of the way of both attacks. Together Robin and Legolas punched out at her in a mirror fashion, but she reacted by grabbing both of their fists and executing a twin front snap kick to their guts, knocking the air momentarily out of the both of them.

Recovering as quickly as they could, Robin and Legolas began attacking Batgirl one at a time, neither one seemed able to strike a blow against her. Éomer meanwhile was watching the fight with a slack jawed expression that Éowyn and Gimli were trying their best not to laugh at.

“They do these sparring matches whenever they can,” Gimli explained. “They haven’t had all that much time to practice, so when the opportunity presents itself they are quick to take it.”

“Surely Masters Legolas and Robin are going easy on her,” Éomer murmured in shock. “Am I right?”

Gimli barked out in laughter. “Nay. If anything, she is going easy on them I’d imagine. Batgirl is quite possible the best fighter ye’ll ever meet. Says she’s been training since she was wee babe. Only person I’ve ever seen land a blow on her is the elf, and even he has trouble doing that from time to time.”

The three of them continue to watch Robin and Legolas trying to take down Batgirl with some difficultly. It was already obvious that Robin was wearing himself out as sweat was streaking down his face and his breathing was coming out in forced gasps. Legolas was hold far better, though from the look of immense concentration on his features he wasn’t having an easy time. Batgirl meanwhile looked completely at ease as he eyes studied and analyzed her opponent’s movements, while her body reacted instinctively. Her fist collided with Legolas' cheek, while at the same time her foot struck Robin in the back. It seem to the untrained eye like this had all be choreographed before hand at the impeccable ease that she fought with. The fight continued for the better part of twenty minutes, though for everyone else it seemed shorter.

Robin threw out a spinning hook kicked towards Batgirl’s head, which she caught and pushed forward, knocking him off balance. He fell back and rolled to his feet, before shifting into a fighting stance again. Jumping up high into the air, Batgirl dive-bombed and threw her fist out. Robin was able to roll out of the way at the last second and she instead punched the ground. He then swung his leg out to kick, but Batgirl reacted with an outward forearm block and swinging her leg struck him from behind the knee, causing him to fall to one knee.

“You’re done,” Batgirl smirked. “Surrender.”

Robin raised a challenging eyebrow. “I’m thinking… no.”

It was then that Legolas sprinted forward and fired out one rapid punch after another drawing Batgirl’s attention away from the fallen Boy Wonder. She had narrowly been unable to deflect several of the blows but even Legolas couldn’t hide all his body language from her. On the final punch she caught it and was able to flip Legolas over her shoulder in a fluid movement. Unfortunately the Prince of Mirkwood had been able to react and twisting with the flip landed gracefully onto his feet, and kicked out at Batgirl’s chest. The kick connected with her breast and forced her back several steps.

“It about bloody time!” Gimli shouted with somewhat mock praise and clapping his hands together. “I thought ye were getting soft on us elf!”

“Alright, I think that does it,” Robin said through deep breaths, and leaning against Legolas for support.

Batgirl asked tilting her head in annoyance and pulled off her cowl. “Why? Fight was… getting good.”

“Because we agreed we’d keep fighting until Legolas or me finally landed a blow against you or we conceded defeat,” Robin explained with a roll of his eyes. “Legolas was able to hit you, so that means the match is over.”

“Wimp.”

Robin flashed a playful smile. “Against you? You’d better believe it.”

“I did not think it was possible that a human could move like that,” Éomer said in amazement. “When Robin told me of you, I had thought he was exaggerating.”

“I made that same mistake, Éomer,” Legolas stated with half smile. “Be thankful you did not learn your lesson the hard way as I did.”

Éomer looked eagerly at Batgirl. “How ever did you learn to fight with such skills?”

“Pushy father,” came the flippant reply. Cass walked past the horse lord, over to Robin and touched his cheek where it was showing the sign of a bruise forming. “Sorry. I hit too hard?”

“I’ve had worse,” he said.

“Are you alright Lord Legolas?” Éowyn asked, looking at the pensive elf.

“As much as I enjoy our matches, it doesn’t ease the darkness that is growing in my mind,” Legolas said darkly.

“You are feeling anxious?” Éomer asked, getting a nod from the elf.

Robin looked over his shoulder at the Golden Hall. “I think we’re all feeling a bit antsy,” he said. “It’s been almost two days since Gandalf. We know that something big is going down in Gondor and now we have to wait for the message. Whatever that is.”

“And we still don’t know what Théoden King will say should Gondor call for aid,” Legolas added. He could see both Éowyn and Éomer stiffen, but neither could argue his statement. Even they were concerned whether their uncle would answer Gondor’s call or if he would let his hurt ego make his decision and leave the White City to its destruction.

“How... do you think Pippin and Gandalf are?” Batgirl asked, hugging her arms to her chest.

“The hobbits survive being captured by Orcs, and Gandalf survived dropping into a bottomless pit with a Balrog of lore,” Gimli chuckled dryly. “I think they’ll be just fine lass.” Every smiled at Gimli’s confidence, though not all of them were all that reassured. Even Gandalf’s power had its limits.

“Where is Lord Aragorn?” Éowyn asked suddenly, her blue eyes staring about as if expecting him to walk by at that moment. “Did he not say that he was going to spar with you three?”

Legolas, Robin and Batgirl shared uneasy expression while Gimli appeared completely clueless. Éomer meanwhile nudged his younger sister playfully. “And why, dear sisters, do you look for the Son of Arathorn so intently?”

Éowyn’s face turned a bright shade of red, and shot her brother an icy glare. “That is none of your concern ‘dear brother’, unless you would like to tell me something about this ‘Yolina’ that I have heard your men speaking about behind your back…” Éomer’s face suddenly turned a shade a red that matched his sister’s, and promptly fell silent.

“I think Aragorn mentioned something about the horses,” Robin lied, with Legolas and Batgirl nodding in agreement. Gimli though had raised a fuzzy eyebrow and turned to the others with surprise and confusion.

“What?” he began gruffly. “He did-oy!” Gimli was interrupted when he felt a suddenly pain run down the left side of his body. Batgirl had ‘casually’ placed her hand on his shoulder was now driving her fingernails into a very sensitive pressure point. Éowyn seemed to pay no mind as she continued to stare hopefully about for Aragorn.

“So how are you feeling?” Robin asked Batgirl as he slipped his hand into her own and started leading her away from the others.

“Fine,” she replied, and she dropped her head on his shoulder. “Why?”

“Well, you got attacked by the big bad of Middle-Earth the other night, and haven’t said anything about it,” Robin replied, going straight to the point. He knew perfectly well that Batgirl was never a fan of people tip-toeing about a subject, especially since she would know if he lied.

“Oh…” Cassandra and her brow furrowed. “That.”

“Yes. That. I’ve been worried about you. I mean, considering what Saruman did to me, I though you might, you know, want to talk. Have you been sleeping well?”

“You would know,” Cassandra shot back with raised challenging eyebrow. “You kept… checking on me last night.” Tim’s face went crimson and he felt Cass squeeze his hand. “No. I haven’t. Sleep was… hard. But it’s okay. I’m okay.”

“But…” Yet before Robin could finish, he felt himself get shoved into a shadowed alleyway and he was pushed against the wall with Cassandra pressing her body up against his. One of her arms was wrapped around his neck with her fingers running through his hair, while the other was much to his surprise grabbing his ass tightly. For someone who had never been in a relationship before, she was surprisingly good at that. His blood simmered, his breath caught in his throat and his heart pounded in his chest.

Somewhat reluctantly, he pulled away from, feeling shocked, embarrassed, intrigued and very much aroused and Batgirl could see all of it and her smile widen with amusement.

“Cassie, what are-?” he began, but again he wasn’t allowed to finish as Cassandra pressed her index finger to his lips.

“Shhh… No talking,” She then leaned in and continued to kiss him, while her hands roam over his body. Tim didn’t resist this time and returned the kiss just as passionately. His hands found her waist; he grabbed Cassandra and rolled her onto her back, shifting his body with her to where he had her pinned against the wooden wall and a small moan escaped from her throat in between kisses.

“Cassie,” Tim murmured her name softly.

“Cassandra! Where are ye lass?”

The two teenagers broke their kiss upon the interruptive cry, which they recognized as Gimli’s.

“Ignore him,” Cassie whispered before they both leaned in to continue their kiss.

“CASSANDRA!”

Again they reluctantly broke apart as the voice had grown louder and closer. Cassandra pouted her lips in disappointment, while Tim had rested his chin on the top of her head and wearing an amused smile mixed with the undertone of his own disappointment.

“Continue this later?” he asked. Cassie looked up at him, with a predatory-like grin and arched eyebrow as she ran her hand down his chest.

“Better believe it,” she responded, before slipping out of the alleyway and going off to murder… err… meet a certain dwarf.

---

A thoughtful son of Arathorn held a silent vigil from the top of one of the many guard towers of Edoras. It had been two days since Gandalf and Pippin had left for Minas Tirith, and no word had been sent. If there was anything he hated more, it was the waiting. Gandalf had promised to send out warning of Sauron’s treachery in Gondor, but the question of whether anyone would answer the call was another story.

Théoden was a good man and just king, but he was also a stubborn egotist at times. If Gondor asked for aid, would the King give it or would he let the White City fall?

“Hiding from Éowyn, are we?”

Aragorn turned around to see Robin standing besides him, leaning up against the wall, pressing the bottom of one foot against the wood. He gave a small smile that didn’t meet his eyes. “I beg your pardon?”

“Cassie told me about Éowyn’s little crush on you,” Robin replied. “I noticed it myself.”

“No, I am not hiding,” said Aragorn. “It is as you said ‘a crush’. Nothing more. She is a magnificent lady, beautiful and strong, but she does not love me. She only sees me as ‘Lord Aragorn’. She is infatuated with who she imagines me to be.” A wistful expression appeared on Aragorn’s face, and his hand rose to touch the silver pendant around his neck. “And when all is said and done, my heart will always belong to one other, no matter how much distance is placed between us. If only…”

Robin looked at Aragorn sympathetically. He rarely talked about his relationship with Arwen Undomiel, but the others had spoken about it from time to time. Arwen was known as the Evenstar of Elf Kind, and if she were to marry Aragorn she would need to give up her immortality. Back in Rivendell it was no secret that their relationship didn’t sit well with Arwen’s family and Elrond had on more than one occasion expressed her desire to leave the shores of Middle-Earth rather than remain the mortal wife of Aragorn.

Placing a comforting hand on Aragorn’s shoulder Robin smiled. “It’s going to work out.”

“You sound so certain.”

Robin shrugged half-heartedly. “No one can be certain about anything, but you don’t get to be Robin without having a healthy-dose of optimism. Do you have any idea how depressing the Batcave would be with two pessimistic vigilantes in there?” Robin looked out over the landscape and stood besides Aragorn.

“I can only imagine,” the ranger grinned. “I worry though. We shall not all make it through the coming battle in one piece.”

Robin arched an eyebrow. “Your foresight kicking in again?”

“No,” Aragorn replied. “It is simply the way of war.”

Robin nodded in understanding. “Heavy is the head that wears the crown.”

“I wear no crown, Robin.”

The corners of Robin’s mouth quirked upwards, in a barely noticeable fashion. “Not yet at least.”

But Aragorn was no longer listening to Robin, and instead his eyes were narrowed as he gazed out into the distance.

“What is it?” Robin asked. He turned to see a faint flame showing on the top of the distant mountaintop.

“Gandalf.”

Before the Boy Wonder could respond, Aragorn was climbing down from the tower and racing across the courtyard towards the Meduseld. Robin looked back at the faint torches on the snowcapped mountains before taking chase after Aragorn.

“The beacons of Minas Tirith! The beacons are lit!” cried Aragorn as he pushed open the doors of the Golden Hall with Robin close behind. Everyone in the hall stopped in their chores and duties to look at the two of them come to an abrupt halt in front of Théoden and exclaimed: “Gondor calls for aid.”

A pregnant silence filled the room as all eyed turned to Théoden. A pensive expression was etched into his worn features, and he pressed his lips together into a tight line. At last he raised his head with steely resolve. “And Rohan will answer. Muster the Rohirrim.”

TO BE CONTINUED…