THE RED RIDER ; lord of the rings {legolas} ✔

Chapter XXII

Chapter XXII
Aragorn

As we rode out of Minas Tirith, I couldn't stop myself from glancing upwards towards the sixth level as though I expected to see Elenathrian waiting for us, but only a few moments ago, Legolas had returned from the House of Healing and she had still been unconscious.

Even so, when I turned back around to face the front, I felt eyes on me that were not from anyone in the army, but perhaps I was still shaken from my experience with the Palantír.

Eomer, Legolas, and Gandalf rode alongside me, Merry, Gimli, and Pippin riding with the three respectively. It was not a hard ride to the Black Gate, taking only a good part of the morning. We arrived not long before noon, pulling up in front of the Black Gate. The temperature had been dropping steadily in the air, and soon enough, even through the thick King's armor I'd been convinced to wear, it was cold.

The army halted behind me, in awe of the Black Gate. The cold stone was as dark and spotless as obsidian, sharp ridges in the immense wall spiraling up into the sky' it was the epitome of unwelcoming. I narrowed my eyes against the cold and stepped forward, the others joining me in a small pack as we trotted up to the very front of the gate. The army waited on the ridge, restless, watching the gate and the chains at the very top that seemed to control it.

I could practically feel the presence of the Eye beyond the gate, and though I could not see it, I knew it was watching from somewhere beyond. Remember what you're here for.

"Where are they?" Pippin whispered from somewhere behind me. His voice was strangely sharp in the empty land.

From my left, Eomer tore his eyes away from the gate and glanced at me. "You fight for Frodo, my lord. You fight for Sam, and for Elenathrian. You fight for every bit of good left in this world."

I nodded with satisfaction, appreciating the reminder from someone else. Spurred, I called up to the gate, aware of my voice echoing against the cold stone. "Let the Lord of the Black land come forth!" Everyone else turned towards the gate with apprehension. Our job was to be a distraction, of which the outcome was unsure. "Let justice be done upon him!"

There was a tense pause, and then a quiet crack as the gate snapped open, allowing a truly horrific figure astride a black horse to exit. He rode forward, and I thought I could only see that he was wearing a black helmet, but on second glance, I realized that the mouth was uncovered. Its teeth were yellow and pointed and it had cuts all around its upper lip. The rest of his entire face was covered by the helmet, and yet he rode his heavily armored horse with no trouble.

"My master, Sauron the Great, bids thee welcome," he croaked. As he spoke, the cuts around his lip split and bled, but the figure paid no mind. I narrowed my eyes and did not speak.

"Is there any in this rout with authority to treat with me?" the figure continued, after a pause.

"We do not come to treat with Sauron, faithless and accursed," Gandalf responded indignantly. I tilted my head slightly, trying to avoid laughing; Gandalf sounded like he was almost enjoying himself. "Tell your master this : The armies of Mordor must disband. He is to depart these lands, never to return," the wizard continued firmly.

The mouth grinned, his cuts splitting, and I winced as I watched a drop of blood spill onto its teeth. "Aha!" It said, seeming strangely excited. I tensed. "Old Greybeard! I have a token I was bidden to show thee." He held up a hand and unfurled what was inside : a white shirt, shimmering in the sun, clinking as it settled. Frodo's mithril.

My eyes widened, but I clamped my mouth shut; the figure wanted a reaction.

"Frodo...!" Pippin murmured from somewhere behind me.