"Down A Different Road"
Part 1
by Beryll

 

Minas Tirith. Most beautiful city of men. Your walls gleaming white in the sunlight of early morning; banners streaming from your towers. The calls of proud men defending the free world in every street. The sound of horses and weapons being readied for battle ringing in my ears as long as I can think back.

How long have you haunted my dreams? How long have I been lying awake in sleepless nights, wondering, if I would ever see you again? Never would I have thought I would part with you for so long. How much I have missed you.

I clearly recall a night, not so long ago, when I admitted my love to you, to the one who now holds my heart. That was when my weakness had just been revealed to me. When I was so shaken, I hardly knew what I was saying. I thank the Valar I did not say to much then. Though very soon now, no more secrets will endure and I will have to live with the consequences.

Minas Tirith. Home and place of safety. City of my birth. How much has my heart longed for you? How much do I loath you now? I have pledged my loyalty to you and your ruler over and over again. And now I am about to break every single one of those oath. Will I regret this? I don't know. As I don't truly have a choice, what is there to regret?

I wish, I had never seen you again. I wish, I had died at the hands of those orcs. I should never have brought them here. But how was I supposed to know...?

*****

When did it begin? I can not clearly say. Maybe it was the moment Gandalf fell into the darkness and I saw the pain in his eyes. The knowledge that he now would have to lead and he didn't know where. Was it his weakness that made him seem so much more human, that made me see him as a man, more than an elf?

Or even before that? Fighting the orcs in Moria. His courage, his never faltering strength driving us on. Did I then see him as a true ruler, as somebody Gondor could rely on more than on my weakening father? More even than me, who had courage aplenty but no more wisdom than a common soldier?

Or even before that, watching his back during the endless walk up the slopes of Caradhras. His dirty hair, dirty clothes making him look every inch the ranger and not like a prophesied king at all. His smell constantly in my nose. Were it my instincts driving me to him then?

*****

I cannot say. All I know now, looking back, is, I had my eyes on him every second this cursed quest went on. I did not realize, what I saw. At first, feeling so very sure this whole endeavor was idiocy, then beginning to worry about my home, then about my own feelings, for was I not betraying my companions in my thought? Did I desire the ring? Yes. It was whispering to me in my dreams, telling me what great things I could accomplish with its help, how to save my home.

Did this worry me? Yes. Valar, I don't know, how many nights I lay there, thinking the fellowship would be better off if I just fled right then and sought death in the wilderness. My first thought when I saw Gandalf fall, was to jump right after him. A clean end to my worries and the danger I posed for the quest. But then I saw his pain. How could I leave him then in this dark hour?

And so I came to stand with them before the Queen of Lorien. Scared to death, for I was so sure she would see what was in my heart. She would know my desire and would expose it for all to see. She did see into my heart. But how much deeper than I had thought possible. And how ill prepared was I for the desire she found. For what burned in my mind, with consuming love, was not the ring, but his eyes.

She said nothing. Just send me away, like nothing had happened at all. I felt shamed beyond believe. What I had expected had not come, but how much worse was this? For when I tried to sleep, that night, I did not hear the whispers of the ring, but his soft voice, singing some sad elvan song. I can not say if I was awake and he truly was wandering in the woods somewhere nearby or if I just dreamed of him. Whatever the truth may be, from than night on, the ring left me alone. Maybe power it can grant, but never love.

*****

But how could I - weak-minded, ill-tempered brute - dare to love him. Noble king and warrior that he was. In him I saw everything my father had ever wanted me to be and so much more. And I did not envy him. Not at all. I just wished to serve him in any way possible. To be his sword, his shield, to have him look at me with kind eyes, not the constant worry of a leader judging his follower for flaws. For there were too many for me to count and I felt he must know every single one of them, except one - my love for him.

The days in Lorien for me were without rest. I kept wandering of to be alone with my thoughts. To come to terms with what I had learned about myself. They let me. Their grief for Gandalf was still fresh, so they merely thought me to be grieving as well. But what was Gandalf to me? I had known him only for a couple of month traveling. Just as long as I had known him, but that didn't make any difference.

After a while I took up the sword lessons with Merry and Pippin again, for I could see a different kind of loneliness in their eyes. They must have felt like useless baggage with us warriors on our important quest. I occupied myself with making them laugh, showing them how to make themselves useful, all the while feeling sad and useless myself.

Leaving Lorien was a relief. At last there was things to do again. To keep my wandering eyes of him and to the shores, looking for enemies to vent my frustration on. For I was no closer to any kind of solving to my shame than I had been, when I entered those woods.

Frodo was the one who noticed, after a while. He had been scared of me. Very scared, I think. He feared my desire for the ring, so his eyes were on me, as my eyes were on our leader. He must have seen the change in me, though I doubt he knew its reason. He has a strong mind and a good heart.

*****

So it was he, who sought me out, when we rested, before crossing the lake to go into the Emyn Muil. Again I had wandered of on my own, trying to ease my thoughts, trying to come to some kind of resolution. I shouldn't have, I know, with enemies about, but my thoughts were elsewhere. Not at all a fitting behaviour for a warrior of many campaigns, much less for one who wants to serve his king.

I heard him approach, that much wits I still had, but I did not turn to him when he came to stand beside me. "What ails you?" he asked so softly, I almost didn't hear, obviously not sure, if it even was his place to ask. I do not know why I answered. We were no friends and at first I had thought him weak and the worst one to choose to carry the ring.

"I worry for our quest." I said slowly, still not looking at him. "I worry for my people. Are they safe? I have not have any word, since I left. I worry about my on worth in this journey." I turned then, to meet his eyes. "You have been burdened beyond words with this ring." I said and he moved back a pace, his hand going to the chain around his neck. I made no move to follow, not wanting to frighten him more. "I must apologize to you, for making your burden even heavier." I went on. "I have wronged you by believing you weak. You are far stronger than me, for bearing that burden and still going on, without any thought for your own comfort. I will not deny the ring has called to me, maybe it still does, but I will myself not to hear it anymore."

He looked at me, doubt still in his eyes, but a small smile starting to form on his lips. I moved carefully, not quite rising to tower over him, going down on one knee before him. "I pledge to you, I will not be your burden anymore. You will have my sword and my shield to protect you from anything that might still come, if you still want it." I did not look at him then, for if he wished to send me away in shame, I did not want to make it more difficult for him.
But he did as I had hoped and slowly touched my shoulder. "I thank you for your offer." he said, his voice a little shaky. "And I accept it gladly." I looked at him then, my eyes level with his and without any more words, we had an understanding. The trust in his eyes was more than I could ever have hoped for and I knew, that should I die in defending him, I would die for a good cause.

Moments later, that chance came, for I saw his sword gleaming blue and realised the danger I had put both of us into. I backed away from him, my hand going to my sword. "Orcs." I hissed to him, gesturing to his own sword. Instantly his smile disappeared, exchanged with fear. I looked about, trusting my ears more than my eyes. And surely enough I heard them, trampling horde they were, running trough the forest, but not towards us, instead going for the shore, were we had left the others.

Cursing softly I motioned for him to stay quiet and together we ran for the shore as well, staying ever out of sight and earshot of the orcs. The others must have heard them as well, for we were not even near the shore when I heard Gimlis war-cry nearby and the shouting and sounds of dying orcs short behind. Had Frodo not been with me, I would have hurried to his aid, but now his safety came first, so I held him back, when he turned to the sounds of fighting, urging him on towards the shore and the boats.

My decision turned out to be wise, for when we emerged from the trees, the other hobbits were there as well, together with Legolas, who was picking out orcs between the trees. Aragorn was nowhere in sight and I knew with a sinking feeling that he had gone looking for Frodo and me. Legolas gave me one long look, as if to reassure himself I had not hurt Frodo, than suddenly smiled and nodded to himself and I knew with a strange warmth in my guts that I had just won another friend.

I did not hesitate any longer but ran to Gimlis aid, leaving the hobbits in Legolas care, felling orcs as I went. There were too many. Just to many to kill them all. They slowly pressed us back to the shore. And still Aragorn was not with us and I feared for him, wanting nothing but to run and find him. Alas, I had given my oath to the ringbearer now and I would stay true to it, as he doubtless would have wanted me to as well.

Legolas had put the hobbits into one the boats, when the battle spilled onto the shore and was pushing it out into the water. The hobbits rowed out onto the relative safety of the lake, obviously not happy with the situation but none the less realizing they would just hamper our fighting if we had to watch for them as well. So Legolas was free to join us in full strength at last and we managed to hold the shore for a while. Even killing all those in the immediate vicinity, resting for some heartbeats, but hearing more orcs approach in the woods.

"Where is he, curse him to the depth of Moria?!" That was Gimli cursing, referring to Aragorn. "We cannot wait any longer." "He went looking for Frodo and Boromir." was Legolas answer. "They must have caught him in the woods." Pictures of Aragorn dead floated before my minds eye and it took all my strength of will, not to run into the woods, attacking the orcs madly.

"I have not seen him." I answered Legolas unasked question, throwing a glance over my shoulder to the hobbits, now already halfway across the lake. "Take the second boat and follow them. We do not know what waits on the other side and they should not face it on their own. I will wait here a moment longer." Legolas was about to shake his head in denial, when we heard sounds of battle from the woods again, fast approaching.

To hell with caution, I thought then and shouted Aragorns name at the top of my lungs, Gimli almost immediately joining me with a: "Get down to the shore!" Legolas jumped into the second boat then, Gimli with him, cursing violently. Then the fight was upon me again as the orcs spilled onto the shore again.

I killed them as fast as they came, always likening an eye out for Aragorn. My heart missed several beats when he burst out of the woods at last, covered in blood and gore, eyes blazing in a fury frightening me more than any orc ever could. He threw me a smoldering glance, obviously blaming me for the whole mess, then he was busy with the orcs on his heels again.

We really had no chance and we both knew it. There was no way we could continue fighting and get the boat out onto the lake. We would have died then and there, had it not been for Legolas, for suddenly arrows started to fell the orcs in quick succession. I did not hesitate a second. I had endangered him once, I would not let any harm come to him now. I all but dragged him to the last boat, getting it into the water and jumping in myself in the last moment.
Legolas stood in the boat, now way off the shore, calm as a tree, loosening arrow after arrow, getting us the time we needed to make our escape. Soon the orcs responded in kind, but they were to late, there bows not matching Legolas range. All that was left for them, was to stand on the shore, waving there weapons, howling in frustration.
As soon as we were on the other side, Aragorn grabbed me, turning me around violently. I expected nothing but a killing blow, so I was far beyond words when he just stared at me for a moment, his still blazing eyes seeming to pierce my very soul. Then he gave me a weak thumb on the shoulder, a small grin splitting his blood-smeared features with some white and collapsed into my arms.

The Valar know, had it not been for Legolas, I would still be standing on that shore, completely dumbfounded, holding him. He drove us on, urging me to carry Aragorn which I did gladly and feeling full of shame at once. He was the one who led us into the Emyn Muil, leaving the orcs behind. He was the one who kept a level head when I was utterly witless, the hobbits in shock and Gimli just his usual grumbling self.

Only when we were far into the rocks and the night started falling, he called a stop and we were at last able to look at Aragorns wounds. It was by far not as bad as I had feared. He had lost quite some blood, as his wounds were so many; cuts and scraps all over him, his clothes torn and soiled. But none of the wounds were deep or truly dangerous. And - more importantly - none were poisoned.

Legolas cared for him while Gimli and I busied ourselves setting up camp, telling the halflings not to worry anymore, making them help as well to get them out of their fear. I noticed the guilty look Frodo gave me. He seemed to feel just as much at fault for the situation as I did and I gave him back a small smile. We could have all been dead, so my stupidity had not done any true harm. Except it had hurt the one who was dearest to my heart. But he didn't even seem to be angry with me, so I told myself, that maybe luck had returned to me. How wrong I was...

*****

Sometime during that night Aragorn reawakened. It had been Legolas watch, so it was he who told our leader where we were and how we had gotten there. In the morning, it was as if nothing unplanned had happened. Aragorn had recovered pretty well already and had a quick look around to determine where Legolas had taken us. By chance we were on the way he had intended anyway.

So we went on, making our way across the Emyn Muil, passing into the Dead Marshes towards the Black Gate of Mordor. I told Aragorn then that I did not see how we were supposed to get through the gate, but he just said there were other ways into Mordor. He also said he had never been there himself, but Gandalf had told him which path to take should he not be with us to lead the way. "As if he had known there was a darker fate waiting for him." he softly added and I just wished I could somehow comfort him in his sadness.

At least he did not have to worry about my loyalties anymore. After the battle against the orcs, the whole feeling in the fellowship changed. Or changed for me. It was not a ragged band of mad adventurers anymore, but true warriors, fighting against impossible odds and winning so far. Somehow I found faith in the quest, which had before eluded me, however hard I tried to find it. It did not feel like they were watching me with contempt, judging my every move, waiting for me to show any weakness. Their trust gave me confidence, as it was not ill-placed.

For I might be loving a man who would never deem me worthy of his love, but at least I could serve him now. I came to an uneasy decision then. If I could never have is love, I might at least win his friendship, never revealing my true feelings, but easing his burdens and delighting in his random smiles.

*****

It did not last. Could not last, of course. We should never have entered the cursed marshes, should have tried some other way around them. The eerie silence, the feeling of being constantly watched by the dead was horrible enough to make any man despair. It proved way to much a strain on Frodo, who was burdened beyond reasonability already.

First he just fell silent and brooding, which we attributed to the surroundings, but when he got paler and paler, Aragorn checked him over and it was clear that he had caught some kind of illness, lingering in these swamps since the Valar know when. Had it been anyone else, we would probably just have sent him to Minas Tirith with someone else as guard. But Frodo? There was no question that none but him should carry the ring, so we had to decide quickly. There really was only one way to go. To Minas Tirith to the houses of healing. There they would certainly know a cure, if we just got Frodo there fast enough.

So we went to Ithilien. It had been Sauron's land for quite a while now and I had not been there for a long time, as it was my brothers responsibility. I argued with Aragorn to try and meet Faramir in one of the secret havens of Ithilien, but he refused, saying we had no time to tarry and could not risk to get drawn into any struggle. I could not deny he was right, for Faramir was always busy fighting some evil or another and would certainly ask for our help should he stumble across us so conveniently. I also told Aragorn that he would not keep us, seeing our hurry, but he did not really believe me. I can not blame him. After meeting me, he must have thought my younger brother even more troublesome. How was I to explain that Faramir had always been the more level headed of the two of us.

So we just crossed Ithilien as quickly as possible, having one wary eye on possible threats and the other on Frodo who was drifting closer and closer to death. Had Legolas not been with us, I think we would have lost him. There was an emptiness in Frodos eyes that only lessened when Legolas tended him. Aragorn said the illness must have somehow reawakened the dark spirits of the wound he had received on Weathertop.

I know nothing of such evil sorcery, so I kept my eyes on the other hobbits, again trying to teach them some fighting skills. As I had been doing that for several month now, they were getting good and I noted with some grim satisfaction that in our next encounter with orcs, I would not have to guard them, for they were pretty able now to do that on their own.

Approaching my home town, I felt nothing but pleasant anticipation, hoping for some well deserved rest at last. Never did it cross my mind that in the safety of my home would we face the gravest danger yet. Aragorn must have had some sense of foreboding. The closer we got, the lesser he smiled and the more silent he grew. I just thought he did not want to enter the city he would one day rule, now when he could not stay.

*****

Wish, I had felt this warning as well. Wish I had found another place for Frodo to heal. Wish I had never brought them here.

I knew the moment we entered the hall of my father. I saw the look he fixed on Aragorn. I had just introduced him, as a ranger of the north, for that was what Aragorn had asked of me. But my father is not so easily fooled. His eyes bored into Aragorns lowered head and I knew he knew. I saw naked hatred in my fathers eyes then, mixed with mad rage and I truly did not recognize him. Then it was gone, like a nightmare in the morning, leaving behind a hazy unease.

His voice stayed level and he welcomed my friends to his house, immediately sending Frodo to the houses of healing, Sam going with him. He offered safety and rest to the others and they accepted gratefully. Did Aragorn suspect? I think he did, but there was nothing he could do but wait for Frodo to heal. He kept to himself in his rooms, while I went into the city with Gimli, Merry and Pippin, showing of my home. How utterly stupid of me. I should have done something, though I can by the life of me still not say what.

I should at least have suspected my father planing something when he did not call me to his side to question me on the reason of our quest. His mind must have been fixed on Aragorn from the moment he laid eyes on him. I should be grateful, I suppose. Had he even suspected what lay in his houses of healing, he would have ripped the ring from Frodo. For he has changed more than I can endure. He is not the father I left behind when I went to Rivendell.

Five days have passed since we entered Minas Tirith. Frodo is almost healed. He left the houses this morning, Sam still helping him, but walking on his own. We should wait at least another week before we continue to Mordor. So said Legolas, after looking Frodo over. Aragorn agreed, though he looked pained. I now know why.

When I came back from a trip to the city with Gimli, this evening, I went up to the walls to have a moment of solitude. To look down upon my home and remember what it is I fight for. I was not supposed to see my fathers personal guards, dragging an unconscious Aragorn across a deserted courtyard, disappearing into seldomly used parts of the palace. I was not supposed to witness this betrayal. But I did and now I have to deal with it.

But what am I to do now? I must make sure the ring is safe. This I swore. But I can not leave Aragorn at the hands of my father either. I could not, even if I was not loving him so much, my heart seems to burn with the agony of unrequited desire.

I must find him. Get him out of this trap I myself led him into. For I know my father no more. Know not what he plans. But where to find him? The palace is a maze. Father will have found a place to hide him. A place to quietly get rid of him. Is he even still alive? I must believe he is.

My thoughts chase each other around in my head. Must find Aragorn, must get the ring out of town safely. For now father will wonder. Will suspect. Will know sooner than later.

How I wish Faramir was here. He always knew father better than I did. They are so much alike, but Faramir would never betray the king. He would know what to do. Curse my thick head, I feel so stupid! What am I to do...?

 

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