Protect & Serve LotR-Lord of the Rings Fanfiction - Fan Fiction -WattyAwards2012

Chapter 2: Greater Men

Time again seemed to pass unheralded. I knew there were many things swirling in my mind that I should be using my excess of time to go over, but they were things I feared dwelling on. Things I feared couldn't be changed no matter how many times I turned them over in my head.

Was there truly such a thing as fate? And if so, was it truly my fate that I had to go back to my own world?

It wasn't fair; none of it was fair.

I glanced down at the spider web of scars crisscrossing the exposed flesh of my hand. And they weren't near the worst.

No, I know better than most that people rarely get what's right or fair, but dammit, haven't I given enough? Haven't I bled enough? When is it my turn to get what I want? What I need.

No, life isn't fair. True enough. But to hell with fate, I don't give a damn about what gods, Valar, or anyone or anything else says has to be. I'll write my own fate.

But that niggling fear remained. Could anyone really write their own fate?

"Where are we, Gandalf?" Pippin asked, his fearful voice still shaking off the remnants of his slumber.

The wizard answered almost absently as he allowed Shadowfax to slow to a walk, also allowing my own mount to draw abreast of him. "In the realm of Gondor, the land of Anórien is still passing by."

Pippin was gazing around at our surroundings when he suddenly gasped and pointed high into the mountains. "What is that?" he cried. "Look! Fire, red fire! Are there dragons in this land? Look, there is another!"

Gandalf drew in a sharp breath, leaning over the neck of his stead and urging him onward even as his words carried back to me. "On, Shadowfax! We must hasten. Time is short. See! The beacons of Gondor are alight, calling for aid. War is kindled. See, there is the fire on Amon Dîn, and flame on Eilenach; and there go speeding west: Nardol, Erelas, Min-Rimmon, Calenhad, and Halifirien on the borders of Rohan."

As soon as Gandalf had begun urging Shadowfax on, I had leaned over Lightfoot and done likewise, surprised by how revived he seemed by even so short a reprieve. Rohan would soon be amassing her army for war in her neighbor's land. But I knew most of my friends would soon be headed on another path to Gondor.

Gandalf spoke as we rode about the history of the beacons to call for aid from neighboring lands, but I listened little, trying to concentrate on keeping myself awake and aware of our surroundings.

After a day spent sleeping restlessly on the hard earth, and then some hours passed again tiredly in the saddle, my mind caught the tenor of human thoughts getting nearer. Soon the thoughts swelled and I realized we were approaching a great mass of humans. Looking around I noticed Shadowfax's ears and head held aloft at attention as he seemed to notice something as well, though our surroundings were so greatly shrouded by the mist.

"We're approaching Minas Tirith," I told Gandalf, guessing from the sheer volume of human thoughts, many seeming harried and fearful.

Gandalf once again motioned for a halt, and I waited beside him as he stared at me, his eyes seeming to search for an answer.

"Pull your hood up," he finally directed. "The fog is thick, but we will soon be approaching the walls at the edges of the Fields of Pelennor."

He seemed to stiffen and brace himself for my ire at his words, but I shrugged and slowly pulled my hood forward. I did however look at Gandalf curiously, wondering at his directive. His thoughts had always been utterly silent to me. For which I found merciful. I couldn't imagine what would be in the thoughts of a wizard.