Chapter Thirteen. And broken splinters of mortality fall...

Conclusion

Frodo watched. He watched the tree, he watched the branches bend and the flowers fall, he watched the tree dying...

"Mr. Frodo?... Mr. Frodo... are we going to sit out here again?" Samwise sank down beside him, looking at his eyes and then back to the tower.

"Did they find him Sam?"

The other hobbit started for a moment, surprised by the comment. "You didn't know Mr. Frodo? They found him all right, he's in the tower now. He had another run in with the Nazgul. You know Mr. Frodo, if I didn't know better, I'd say he's looking for trouble with them!"

Frodo shook his head, "Not trouble Sam... just them, he's always looking for them now..."

The other hobbit was silent. In the distance the cry of the Nazgul sounded, muffled in the night by the space between them. "Sam... do you wonder... why the symbol of this city is a tree?"

Samwise shrugged, "A tree's sturdy? It has good roots? Looks nice on a banner? Happens to grow right next to the tower? Is unusually white? I don't know Mr. Frodo, why do you ask?" Frodo didn't answer, and the two sat in silence as the moonlight fell upon the topmost branches.

The Citadel: The White Tower

Aragorn sat alone in the room, the others long since gone. Part of him cried out; it wanted to leave the tower, check on the city, on Arwen... That part was silent for now. The other wanted nothing more than to ponder this ring. It was not like the ring of power, they felt nothing alike... that had compelled even from a distance. And if you even touched that ring... The king shuddered; (it had only taken one touch for Boromir...) And once again he pondered the ring.

It felt normal, what a funny way to look at a ring of power, normal. The smith who forged it would be insulted! But truly, it felt normal, its stone did not seem to flash with any inner fire, it was a simple weight in his hands. (Perhaps,) he mused, (the rings were innocent carriers of power? True, the one ring had been Dark in its very core, but had it not been forged just to control the others? While the others in question had been forged as gifts? How had it gone... Three for Elven kings... Seven for Dwarf lords... Nine for mortal men, and one ring for the darkness?)
A feeling gnawed at him, that there was more to all this then there appeared to be, yes this was not the ring of power... but was it not still a threat? Or was it?

A knock sounded and Aragorn opened the door. Gandalf stood in the door frame, looking old. His eyes did not shine as they were warrant to do, and he seemed bent, though he stood at his full height.

"Gandalf, are you well? You seem..."

The wizard shook his head and entered the room. "Worry not for me Aragorn, not when there are so many other things to worry about." Aragorn nodded, and suddenly the repressed side broke free.

"Gandalf, Arwen! How is she? When she touched me, I didn't realize, and she..." Gandalf whispered something and Aragorn froze as his voice faded.

"Peace Aragorn! She was stunned but is fine now, and wishes to see you. There is however a matter we must resolve first." Aragorn nodded, and motioned to his throat. "Ah yes, I felt it had to be done, forgive me." The spell faded.

"The riders have retreated beyond the northern border."

Gandalf nodded, "We are all thankful for that, I myself am not sure how I would have withstood another night of shrieking." The two chuckled for a moment before an uncomfortable silence settled between them. "Aragorn, the Witch King's ring, I want you to give it to me."

Aragorn nodded, "I imagined as much."

Outside the Door

"What are they saying in there?" Gimli muttered, looking over at a hobbit who had his ear pressed tightly at the crack in the door.

"Not sure, they're very quiet in there... but I think that's strider talking..."

Legolas shook his head. This felt foolish, listening at the door like children, (were it not the importance of the situation I would never...)

"How about now?"

Merry gave Gimli an annoyed look. "To quiet still!"

Another few moments of silence, "...Now?"

"Still to quiet!"

"If you get much louder they'll be listening to us instead of us listening to them!" they all turned and watched Faramir sit down beside them. He looked pale, his eyes slightly sunken from lack of sleep.

"Are you well?"

The steward smiled at Legolas, "Well enough, all considering... And you? All of you?"

The group mumbled a basic consent of wellness before settling back into silence.

"How about now?"

Slowly, Merry turned to look at Gimli. His eyes were wide in fear, not needing to say anything, his expression was enough. The entire group pressed against the door, wincing as the volume in the room rose to a painful pitch.

"We need to intervene, I have a bad feeling... oh no..."

Frost was inching its way around the door, twining itself into frozen strands as the air around them chilled. Legolas and Faramir exchanged a silent look, and prepared to fling the door open when suddenly!...the noise ceased.

Outside by the white tree Frodo froze, Sam shook him to no avail.

In the hall of healing Arwen cried out, disappearing out the door even as Eowyn ran after her.

And across the fields a cry rose from the dark company, hoof beats like thunder drew closer to the city...

For a moment, time, stood, still.

The door to the tower room crashed open as the fellowship poured inside. The table lay in splinters on the ground, one chair was smashed against the wall, and near the window a dark black stain dripped, pooling on the floor,
...but there was no sign of the wizard, or the king.

"Returned will be the Ringwraiths might, Return to darkness... Sorrow all."

To be Continued in: The Ringwraiths Ride for Mordor