FicWad

A/n: Well, its a few days to Thanksgiving. Hope you all have a good feast this thursday. And here's a Thanksgiving gift to all of you my reviewers... the arrival at Minas Tirith. I hope you like it, as I did, when I first saw the scene. Please read and review.







Chapter 6: Vain ambitions, the decline of Gondor







Gandalf, Aoshi, and Pippin then went down the hill and entered Minas Tirith through the front gates, immediately going up through the paved road with all mustered speed. Many of the people jumped out of the way or ended up following the wizard and his two companions throughout the city.

Though the gates were not in a straight line... the Great Gate in the city wall was at the East Point of the circuit, but the next faced half south, and the third half north, and so to and fro upwards. So that the road climbed towards the Citadel turned first this way and then that across the face of the hill.

In every street they passed some great hose or court over whose doors and arched gates were cared many fair letters of strange and ancient shapes. Pippin and Aoshi gazed in growing wonder at the great stone city, vaster and more splendid than anything that they had ever dreamt of before... greater and stronger than Isengard, and far more beautiful.



"Make way!" Gandalf yelled out again and again to the people as he, Pippin and Aoshi upon their horses thundered through the streets, their hooves clacking loudly upon the cobblestones.



The travelers continued further up the many winding levels of the city, passing each gate and arched tunnels that pierced the vast huge out-thrust bulk pier of rock that divided in two all the circles of the city, save the first. Up the city rose, even to the level of the topmost circle. And there... crowned by a battlement...





Gandalf and the others, at last, came out of shadow to the seventh gate... to the Citadel of Anarion, with the White Tower of Ecthelion, and the Court of the fountain, which also pointed eastward, but was delved into the heart of the rock. Tall and shapely was the White Tower, fifty fathoms from the base to the pinnacle, where the banner of the Stewards floated a thousand feet above the plain. A strong citadel it was indeed and not to be taken by a host of enemies.



Four guards stood around the Courtyard. One at the North point, one at the South point, one at the East and one at the West. The guards wore black robes, and their helms were of strange shape, high-crowned, with long cheek-guards close-fitting to the face. And above the cheek-guards were set the white wings of sea birds; but the helms gleamed with a flame of silver, for they were indeed wrought of Mithril.





Gandalf, Pippin and Aoshi dismounted from their horses for no horse was allowed in the citadel. Quickly, Gandalf and Aoshi strode across the white-paved court. Pippin, however, stood where he was as he looked up... and saw the wilted, dead tree, drooping over the fountain, which was trickling very little water into the pool, from his vision inside the Palantir.



"It's the tree!" exclaimed Pippin as he trotted to catch up to Gandalf and Aoshi, "Gandalf! Aoshi!"

"Yes, the White Tree of Gondor, the Tree of the King," replied Gandalf, not slowing down in his march to the citadel, telling Pippin and Aoshi, "Lord Denethor, however, is not king, he is a Steward only, a caretaker of the throne."



As Gandalf and his companions were at the gates, the wizard turned to them and said, "now, listen carefully, the both of you. Lord Denethor is Boromir's father. To give him news of his beloved son's death would be most unwise."

"Understood Gandalf," Aoshi agreed, "since the death of a loved one will be very stressful under these dark and uncertain times."

"Indeed Aoshi," Gandalf confirmed as he instructed further, "and do not, either of you, mention Frodo, or the Ring."

"Right, Gandalf," responded Pippin.

Gandalf turned towards the citadel but quickly turned back to Aoshi and Pippin and added, "and say nothing of Aragorn, either..."

"Right, Gandalf," Pippin repeated.



The wizard turned towards the gate again... but froze and looked in Pippin's direction...



"...In fact, it's better if you don't speak at all, Peregrin Took," he told Pippin.

Pippin nodded a bit miserably, feeling that he was speaking too much, heeding Gandalf's warning... then went with Aoshi and Gandalf into the citadel.





Pippin and Aoshi looked into a great long, yet solemn hall. It was lit by deep windows in the wide aisles at either side, beyond the rows of tall pillars that upheld the roof. Between the pillars, stood a silent company of tall images, graven in cold stone, the statues of kings long dead. Aoshi and Pippin looked at the stone images, as they were reminiscent of the pair of the hewn rocks of the Argonath on the Anduin River.

At the far end of the citadel, upon a dais of many steps... the empty throne was set under a crown made of bronze. At the foot of the dais, upon the lowest step, which was broad and deep, there was a stone chair, and on it, sat the Steward of Gondor with a small, golden-knobbed, white rod settling next to him. He was busy occupying himself, gazing down at his lap, not looking up an inch at the new arrivals.



As the arrivals were near the dais, Gandalf stepped forth and greeted the Steward, extending his arms and staff, "hail Denethor, Son of Ecthelion! Lord and Steward of Gondor!"



However, upon hearing the greeting, Denethor still did not lift his head. Pippin and Aoshi were baffled to see that the Steward was unresponsive. No doubt, something was on Denethor's mind...



"I come with tidings in this dark hour," Gandalf announced further to Denethor, "and with counsel."

"...Perhaps, you come to explain this," Denethor said, lifting up the item in his hands, in which he had been gazing at...



A great horn, cloven through the middle... Boromir's wild-ox horn bound with silver. Gandalf, Aoshi, and Pippin recognized the horn that belonged to Boromir with shocked expressions on their faces. It appeared that their attempt to hide Boromir's death had been unsuccessful.



Denethor finally lifted his head and added sadly, "...perhaps you come... to tell me why my son is dead."

In that instant...



Pippin remembered that fateful day at Amon Hen, when Boromir was struck down at the hands of the Uruk-Hai, as the Uruk leader, Lurtz, shot three arrows at Boromir. Pippin shuddered to think of that day of dread, seeing one of his friends killed right in front of him. It had been indeed a terrible time for the Hobbit, as well as the rest of the Fellowship...





"Boromir died to save us," Pippin spoke up suddenly, filled with guilt, surprising Gandalf and Aoshi, "... me, my kinsman... and our other friend, Misao.

"He fell, defending us all from many foes," Pippin added as he stepped forward towards Denethor, and knelt before the Steward.

"Pippin!" Aoshi and Gandalf called out, objecting to his talking.



Denethor was also shocked as he looked upon the Hobbit with perplexity and sincerity... being treated with such honor by this stranger before him.



Pippin then lifted his head as he announced to Denethor, "...I offer you my service, such as it is... in payment of this debt."

"Pippin," interjected Aoshi, "you need not do this. Boromir's death was not your fault."

"What else can I do, Aoshi?" Pippin said, still kneeling, as he turned to Aoshi, "we tried in vain to hide Boromir's death from him. When I stood there that day, seeing Boromir being killed right in front of my eyes, by the Uruks, I felt so helpless, that I couldn't do anything...

"...If I don't do this... I'll never be able to live with myself," Pippin finished sadly.



Gandalf breathed in exasperation at the Hobbit's self-contempt and guilt for Boromir's death.



"Then this is my first command to you," stated Denethor quietly to Pippin, asking, "how did you escape and my son did not, so mighty a man as he was?"

"The mightiest man may be slain by one arrow... and Boromir was pierced by many," Pippin answered Denethor plainly, which made him wince and sob slightly in his grief.

Gandalf then whacked Pippin with his staff, as he irritably ordered, "get up!"

Pippin quickly stood up as Gandalf said firmly, to Denethor, "my lord, there will be a time to grieve for Boromir, but it is not now. War is coming. The enemy is on your doorstep! As steward, you are charged with the defense of this city! Where are Gondor's armies?"



In the middle of this announcement, Denethor's face grew dark, nearly scowling at Gandalf...



"You still have friends," Gandalf added fervently, "you are not alone in this fight. Send word to Théoden of Rohan, light the beacons."

"...You think you are wise, Mithrandir?" Denethor contemptuously questioned Gandalf, almost snarling, "yet for all your subtleties, you have not wisdom."



Gandalf, Aoshi, and Pippin were most bemused hearing Denethor speak in this manner, especially to one who offers counsel.



Denethor went on bitterly, "do you think the eyes of the White Tower are blind? I have seen more than you know. With your left hand you would use me as a shield against Mordor, and with your right, you'd seek to supplant me. I know who rides with Théoden of Rohan, oh yes... word has reached my ears of this Aragorn, son of Arathorn, and I tell you now...

"I will not bow to this Ranger from the North! Last of a ragged house, long bereft, of lordship," Denethor spat to the last, leaving a shocked expression upon Pippin and a hardened, yet almost scowling expressions upon Gandalf and Aoshi.

"Authority is not given to you to deny the return of the King, Steward!" Gandalf told the Steward, defensively.

But in response...



Denethor rose against Gandalf and roared back, "...THE RULE OF GONDOR IS MINE! AND NO OTHER'S!"



Gandalf stared hard at Denethor a few moments after hearing his hardened proclamation to refuse Aragorn's right to the throne... then turned around to leave.

"Come!" he said to Aoshi and Pippin.

Pippin went to follow Gandalf, but Aoshi remained where he was...



"Denethor," Aoshi spoke his announcement, "I am Aoshi Shinomori of the Oniwaban group. I have seen many things, of people who want to keep power for themselves. I shall only offer my services to the white wizard and Pippin, though he swore service to you. However, I too was present when your son, Boromir died, and I shall also tell you of what befell Boromir, since you were his father."



Gandalf and Pippin stopped to see Aoshi speaking to Denethor, as the embittered steward looked at Aoshi disdainfully.



Aoshi went on, "it is true that Boromir was shot to death, by the arrows of Saruman's Uruk-Hai soldiers. But he managed to share last words with Aragorn, who was right beside him, when he died. When Boromir first met Aragorn, he was also against having him as king, just as you are. But over time, Boromir grew to respect Aragorn as a fellow man, developing a very close relationship with him. And in the end...



"...Boromir died... accepting Aragorn as his king," finished Aoshi firmly.

Denethor couldn't believe what he was hearing and began to open his mouth...



"Aoshi!" Gandalf called out to him, "we cannot risk an argument here, times are too dark for that. Now come on."



Aoshi finally broke eye contact with Denethor, to follow Gandalf and Pippin out of the citadel... with Denethor slowly sitting back down in his chair, left alone to dwell within his sorrows of losing Boromir...





"All has turned to vain ambition!" Gandalf cried in disgust of Denethor, "he would even use his grief as a cloak!"



Gandalf, Aoshi, and Pippin reached the front gates of the citadel, which were opened by the guards. The Wizard and his companions stood out on the stairs, looking out at Minas Tirith... then walked out across the courtyard.



"A thousand years this city has stood," Gandalf complemented the city, "now, at the whim of a madman, it will fall. And the White Tree, the tree of the king, will never bloom again."

"Gandalf," began Aoshi, commenting on the White Tree, "I had already gathered that this tree isn't like any other tree that I've encountered. I'm also guessing that it's been this way, ever since Isildur's death 3000 years ago."

"Yes, Aoshi," answered Gandalf, "that, and a whole lot that happened afterwards."

"Why are the guards still guarding it, then?" asked Pippin, gesturing to the high-crowned, winged-helmeted guards around the tree.

"They guard it because they have hope," replied Gandalf, "a faint and fading hope that one day it will flower. That a king will come and this city will be as it once was, before it fell into decay."



Gandalf, Pippin, and Aoshi continued to walk out further into the courtyard, past the white tree, and outward at the top of the dividing crag of Minas Tirith, stopping at the low wall.



But as they were walking, Gandalf went on, "the old wisdom borne out of the West was forsaken. Kings made tombs more splendid than the houses of the living, and counted the old names of their descent dearer than the names of their sons. Childless lords sat in aged halls, musing on heraldry, or in high, cold towers, asking questions of the stars. And so the people of Gondor fell into ruin...

"...The line of kings failed... the White Tree withered. The rule of Gondor was given over to lesser men," ended Gandalf offensively.

"Like Denethor apparently," remarked Aoshi.

"Eh," Gandalf grumbled, with a slow nod.



Pippin then turned his head... to a far-off mountain range, shrouded by fiery red and dark black clouds... walking even closer to the edge of the wall in great fear of the clouds that were climbing towards Gondor...



"...Mordor," gasped Pippin.

"Yes, there it lies," said Gandalf as he and Aoshi went over to join Pippin, gazing at Mordor, "this city has dwelt ever in the sight of its shadow."

"...A storm is coming," observed Pippin.

"Not an ordinary storm, Pippin," contradicted Aoshi lightly, "we of the Oniwaban group are capable of predicting approaching storm fronts... but there is no natural pattern of weather that I can sense from this."

"Aoshi speaks true," said Gandalf in stern agreement to Aoshi, explaining, "this is not the weather of the world... but a device of Sauron's making, a broil of fume he sends ahead of his host. The Orcs of Mordor have no love of daylight, so he covers the face of the sun to ease their passage along the road to war.

"When the Shadow of Mordor reaches this city... it will begin," concluded Gandalf fatefully.



Aoshi nodded firmly, fixing his gaze stoutly at Mordor for the coming battle. Pippin, however, became filled with fear as he twitched his face at the thought of a battle.



"Well... Minas Tirith," Pippin said, with doubt painted on his face, noticed instantly by Aoshi and Gandalf, "very impressive. So where are we off to next?"

"Oh, it's too late for that, Peregrin," Gandalf told Pippin smugly, "there's no leaving this city."

"Besides," Aoshi reminded Pippin, "you just gave your life over to Denethor's service, feeling you couldn't live with yourself if you didn't, remember?"

Pippin paused a moment in realization, and replied with a nervous laugh, "...heh, heh... oh yeah. Sorry, I forgot... must've slipped my mind."

"Either way, we're beyond recriminations now," said Gandalf, "whatever happens from here on in... help must come to us."









Gollum was still leading Frodo, Kaoru, Yahiko, and Sam throughout the glades of eastern Ithilien. All of them looked weary... especially Sam.



"It must be getting near teatime," said Sam, tiredly, "leastways, it would be in decent places where there is still teatime."

"We're not in decent places," Gollum plainly pointed out, turning to Sam.

"Yeah, well you're the least decent sight around here, creepy," said Yahiko in disgust.

"Yahiko," reproved Kaoru.

"Well, its true," replied Yahiko, defensively, "you want me to lie about it?"


Ignoring Yahiko, Gollum hobbled off further, with the others following along. However... Frodo suddenly stopped in his tracks... as if he was deeply troubled about something. Sam then turned around to see Frodo just standing there, like he was some statue.



"Mr. Frodo?" said Sam in perplexity.

Kaoru and Yahiko then turned to Frodo, who was so unresponsive to Sam's calls to him.



"What is it?" asked Sam dreadfully.

"Is there something wrong?" asked Kaoru, in great concern for Frodo.

"...Its just a feeling," replied Frodo, forebodingly, "...I don't think I'll be coming back."

"Huh?" interjected a bemused Yahiko, hearing such a mystified feeling from Frodo, "...how do you mean by that, Frodo?"

"I don't know, Yahiko," said Frodo, uncertainly, "...I just..."

Sam then slowly came up to Frodo and said, "...yes, you will be coming back, Mr. Frodo. Of course you will. That's just morbid thinking. We're going there and back again, just like Mr. Bilbo... you'll see."



Frodo contemplated Sam a moment... then turned to Yahiko and Kaoru, who had reassuring smiles on their faces, as they were agreeing with Sam. With that... Frodo began to walk again with his companions.







As the travelers walked further across the glades... they came across a lone statue, of a king sitting on a throne.



"I think these lands were once part of the kingdom of Gondor," said Frodo, commenting on the statue as he and the others were passing it by, "...long ago... when there was a king..."



Frodo and the others had noticed... that the king's head was removed from the statue, and replaced in mockery... a large rough-hewn rock, covered by a cage-like helmet, and painted rudely in the likeness of a grinning face with one large red eye upon its forehead. The travelers could see that it was the vile work of the savage hands of Orcs. They also noticed that the statue was marked all over, with idle scrawls mixed with the foul symbols used by the maggot-folk of Mordor.

The travelers then looked down... to see the statue's original head lying upon the ground. The eyes were hollow, its carved beard broken, and flowers like small white stars... had bound itself across the brows as if in reverence for the fallen king.



'How sad/,' thought Kaoru, gloomily gazing at the cloven head of the statue, '/Gondor has long been without a king ever since Isildur's death. And now Aragorn, Isildur's descendant, may be the only one to restore Gondor to the way it was... even thought he doesn't want to be king.'





Kaoru turned away from the head, to walk along with the others. Suddenly... the clouds began to part, letting a little sunlight pass through...



And began to light the star-like flowers that were covering the statue's head. Sam turned around, to look at the most splendid and wondrous thing that was before him...





"Mr. Frodo... everyone, look!" exclaimed Sam in a small voice to the others as they turned around... and looked at the glittering flowers around the top of the statue's head, like a crown, "...the king has got a crown again!"

"...Awesome," spoke Yahiko with complete wonder over his face.





Kaoru nodded, with a smile on her face. Perhaps there was hope left for Gondor... as well as for Middle-Earth, she believed. Sam also smiled brightly, sharing the same opinion as Kaoru, believing that the enemy could not conquer forever.

But then the clouds once again blocked the light of the bright sun...



And dimmed the flower-like crown upon the head. The traveler's expressions turned gloomy, as if they knew that the darkness was ever struggling to have dominance over the light...





"Come on, Hobbits and Travelers!" Gollum called out, gesturing with his arm, "mustn't stop now, this way!"



Listening to Gollum... Frodo, Sam, Kaoru, and Yahiko turned away from the statue, to move on towards Minas Morgul, and the pass of Cirith Ungol.











Disclaimer: I do not own Rurouni Kenshin or Lord of the Rings. RK is the property of Nobuhiro Watsuki and Lord of the Rings is the property of Professor J. R. R. Tolkien



A/n: So what did you think this time, everyone? You think it was a good Thanksgiving gift? I think I do, especially with the scene with the statue, which I thought was awesome when I first saw it.

Please read and review... and Happy Thanksgiving! Bye.