His Queen

Chapter 58 - Alana

Alana stood close to Faramir, their shoulders brushing as they listened to Gandalf's grim words in the Great Hall of Minas Tirith. Faramir, still recovering from his injuries, leaned slightly against the wall for support, his face pale but determined. Alana's heart ached for him, for everything he had endured, and for the battle still ahead of them. Her fingers itched to reach for his hand, but she kept them at her sides, offering silent strength.

Across the hall, Lyra stood beside Éomer, his arm protectively wrapped around her waist. Despite the tension in the room, Alana couldn't help but notice the quiet connection between them, a bond forged in battle and growing deeper with every moment. It was comforting to see, even amidst the uncertainty surrounding them all.

Gandalf paced back and forth across the hall, his long robe swishing with each step. His voice was heavy with sorrow as he spoke, the weight of their dire situation evident in every word. Alana's heart sank at his words, but she kept her composure, not wanting to show her fear. She stole a glance at Faramir, standing tall and resolute despite the countless battles he had fought.

Amidst the tense silence, Aragorn's voice broke through with reassurance. "If Sauron had the Ring, we would know it." A glimmer of hope sparked in Alana's chest, only to be quickly snuffed out by Gandalf's next words.

"It's only a matter of time. He may have suffered a defeat, but behind the walls of Mordor, our enemy is regrouping." Gandalf's tone matched the grimness of his words.

Gimli, known for his blunt nature, grumbled his thoughts. "Let him stay there! Let him rot! Why should we care?"

Alana's head snapped towards him, her eyes blazing with fury. The anger that had been simmering beneath her calm exterior finally erupted. She stepped forward, her voice sharp and biting. "Because Kitra is now on the other side of that Black Gate, enduring who knows what kind of torture! How can you stand there and act like it doesn't matter? She's one of us!" Her words echoed off the stone walls, filled with desperation and rage.

Her words hung in the air like a heavy fog, thick and suffocating. Raw with anguish, they echoed off the cold stone walls of the chamber, silencing everyone present. Gimli shifted uncomfortably, his guilt flashing briefly in his eyes as he felt the weight of her words bearing down on him.

Alana stood before them, her fists clenched at her sides and her whole body trembling with emotion. She wasn't just speaking about Kitra, but about their shared bond—the unspoken promise to always fight, protect, and never abandon one another.

Gimli's face softened, and he cleared his throat awkwardly. "I didn't mean it like that, lass. I... I know what she means to you, to all of us."

But Alana stood firm, refusing to back down. "Then remember that when we speak of Sauron," she said with quiet intensity. "Every moment we waste debating, Kitra suffers. We can't let her linger in his grasp. We have to act."

Gandalf, who had been watching silently, nodded gravely. "Alana is right. Kitra's fate is intertwined with the Ring just as much as Frodo's. And each passing moment only strengthens Sauron's hold over her." He turned to face the group, his expression serious. "We must act quickly, for 10,000 Orcs now stand between Frodo and Mount Doom."

Alana's breath caught in her throat, the weight of Gandalf's words bearing down on her like a heavy burden. The thought of Kitra, her beloved cousin and family, being entangled in the same dark fate as the Ring filled her with a deep and unrelenting dread. She glanced at Faramir beside her, his usually calm face now etched with concern. The gravity of their situation felt almost unbearable.

"No..." Alana whispered, but the word was barely audible as it struggled to escape her lips.

Gimli, still reeling from her earlier outburst, looked down at his feet with a furrowed brow. His thick fingers tightly gripped the edge of his belt in frustration. Though he prided himself on being a man unswayed by emotions, even he couldn't ignore the suffering of one of their own.