Nepenthe [Legolas]

27

They gathered in the Golden Hall the following morning, summoning an audience with King Theoden.

Gandalf explained what had come of their trip to Isengard, of the subsequent incident with the palantir. Viridis listened to Gandalf recite the events with his hands clasped at his front as he stood. His thoughts were running rampant in his mind as they entertained he thought of the coming war.

"There was no lie in Pippin's eyes. A fool... but an honest fool he remains. He told Sauron nothing of Frodo and the Ring." Gandalf said, voice heavy laden with sleep, tinged with a perpetual air of discontent. As if everything that had transpired, everything that had been said, had somehow only managed to disquiet him and his resolve. It made his hands twitch by his sides as he talked, voice carrying across the hall as though if he were to speak to any other degree, that it would waver.

He went on. "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. His defeat at Helm's Deep showed our enemy one thing. He knows the heir of Elendil has come forth." The Wizard traded a glance with Aragorn." Men are not as weak as he supposed. There is courage still, strength enough to perhaps challenge him. Sauron fears this. He will not risk the peoples of Middle-earth uniting under one banner. He will raise Minas Tirith to the ground before he sees a king return to the throne of Men. If the beacons of Gondor are lit, Rohan must be ready for war."

There was a bleak passage of silence in which all eyes fell on the king. "Tell me..." Theoden pondered. "Why should we rise to the aid of those who did not come to ours? What do we owe Gondor?

The question may as well have been rhetorical. No one moved to reply. Viridis shifted from where he had been standing, hardly moving an inch as he listened.

Defending Gondor was not a question of oath or owing them. It was a question of honor and allegiance, of listening to moral ethics and defending a nation that could not defend itself.

If Rohan did not rise to provide aid, they would be next. And slowly, all the kingdoms would fall, one by one until the last stood, and at last, there would be no one to defend it.

"I will go," Aragorn said, words heavy as he spoke them. They were resolute still and left no room for rebuttal.

Gandalf waited not a moment before shutting it down. "No."

"They must be warned." Aragorn pressed, eyes flickering unwaveringly into Gandalf's, a steely gaze.

"They will be." Gandalf went on, approaching Aragorn as he lowered his voice and spoke into his ear. Viridis, by his side, still heard.

"You must come to Minas Tirith by another road. Follow the river. Look to the black ships." The White Wizard said before pulling away and raising his voice once more. "Understand this: things are now in motion that cannot be undone. "I ride for Minas Tirith..." He declared, eyes straying to Merry who froze like a deer in headlights. He'd been silent during the whole of the interaction, lips pursed and eyes crestfallen as he soaked in the disappointment emanating from Gandalf. "And I won't be going alone."

┈•✦┈•✦

Viridis was restless by the third day.

In another life, he would have relished in it, let each day pass as it wished to, without argument, without disappointment.

Now, each moment seemed to last an eternity as he waited for the call of Gondor, as he waited to hear word from Gandalf and Pippin who had gone three days ago now.