The Captain of Gondor (A LoTR/Aragorn fan-fiction)

Chapter 23-Meeting with Lord Denethor (Edited)

The great gates of Minas Tirith loomed over Salandiel. Many times had she ridden out those gates to war, many times had she returned through them victorious, but never once had she felt afraid of what lay behind them. This had been her home, her refuge, her fortress. Within these walls she had known family, friendship, love. This is where she had learnt to fight and to lead.

A long way still from the mighty gates, Salandiel dismounted her horse, took off his saddle and reigns, and threw them into some nearby bushes hoping no one would find them.

"Thank you for your service, my friend," said Salandiel to her horse as she stroked his nose.

The horse gave out a small neigh and nudged her warmly. Salandiel let him wander to the gates, hoping the guards there would see him as a lone horse and be kind enough to take him in.

With her horse gone, and feeling quite alone, Salandiel made a wide turn through some foliage and came to a stop near the gates. Crouching in the bushes like a spy and feeling like an outcast, Salandiel looked at the gates and wondered if this city would ever feel like home again.

Salandiel took a deep breath and chose not to dwell on the past. She brought her attention to the men standing guard. They stood proudly and watched all that went through the gate. Knowing that there was going to be a change of guards soon, Salandiel waited, keeping her eyes on the guards as well as on the wall where she knew there would be a disguised door.

Every once in a while one or two merchants would make their way through the gates, but other than that, the roads were empty. Salandiel had to wait long but she had been well trained in the art of waiting.

As she sat crouched in the bushes, Salandiel's eyes wandered over the mighty walls and she could see how worn down they had become. Her heart ached for this once bustling city, so full of life and the heart of most trade, but sadly it had started to fall under the shadow of Sauron.

Salandiel's eyes suddenly caught the sight of the guards shifting. Salandiel took this small window of opportunity to sprint towards the wall, unseen, and found the hidden door. She found it and pushed, hoping it would slide open, but it didn't move.

"Locked!" said Salandiel quietly to herself, frustrated.

She looked back to see the guards still shifting around. Hastily pulling out her dagger, Salandiel used it to fiddle with the lock, always looking back over her shoulder. Time was running out and the guards were almost settled. Salandiel dropped her dagger and one of the guards looked in her direction but she managed to slide the door open and slip in, picking up her dagger in the process. Quietly closing the door behind her, Salandiel took a deep breath and leaned against the close door.

It was dark and damp in this passageway, clearly having not been in use for a very long time. Salandiel used her hands to feel her way down the passageway and made her way up into a small room. A ray of light forced its way through some planks that had been used to board up the door. The planks were old and damp and dust mites floated in the air. Salandiel took to removing the planks.

With a last pull, Salandiel threw the plank down onto the floor and stepped out into the city. She squinted her eyes as the full force of sun's rays hit her face and she pulled her hood over her head to cover her face. As she walked through the streets, Salandiel looked at the mournful look that most of the people held. So many of these families had lost fathers, husbands and sons to the war that was happening outside their walls. Salandiel could not believe how much had changed.

Keeping her eyes forward and not wanting to be spotted by anyone she knew, Salandiel made her way up the streets and eventually found herself standing in front of the entrance to the beautiful garden that held the Tree of Gondor. The bare, white tree stood lonely, being guarded; waiting for a king to return.

Salandiel hid behind a wall as she heard two guards marching by. She stood there in the shadows debating with herself on how she was going to make her way into the hall. Knowing what she was going to do, Salandiel crept in the shadows as close as she could to the door. Grabbing a rock, she used the oldest trick in the book to shift the attention of the guards. She threw the rock across the courtyard and it crashed into a window on the far side. The loud crashing of the window caught the attention of the guards and they made their towards the sound as Salandiel quietly slipped past them. Before allowing herself to be seen, she hid behind a wall and listened to the conversation. Salandiel could hear the voices of Lord Denethor and her old friend, Faramir.

"I do not think we should so lightly abandon the outer defences," said Lord Denethor, "Defences that your brother long held intact."

"What would you have me do?" asked Faramir.

Salandiel could hear the hurt in his voice; knowing of the loveless relationship Faramir had with his father. She clenched her fists, feeling her anger grow as she remembered how Denethor would treat his son.

"I will not yield the River and Pellenor unfought. Osgiliath must be retaken," said Lord Denethor.

Salandiel shook her head in anger. Did he not understand the dangers that awaited his soldiers in that city? Seething with anger, Salandiel barged into the room having no thought of the consequences.

"My lord," started Salandiel as she hastened to stand before Lord Denethor, "Osgiliath is overrun. They plan to attack Minas Tirith today."

Silence reigned over them. The shock on Faramir's face was so strong and Salandiel was also shocked to see Pippin standing by Denethor's side, dressed in Gondorian attire. 

Denethor's angered gaze landed upon her.

"I thought I had gotten rid of you," said Denethor darkly.

"Please, my lord," begged Salandiel, "I know I have disobeyed your orders but you must listen to me. I overheard a conversation in Osgiliath and they plan to—"

"Now why would I listen to you?" interrupted Denethor, "Why should I trust a traitor and now, as I see, a spy?"

Salandiel shook her head, trying to get Denethor to listen to her. 

"You cannot go and take the city back. Gather all your soldiers to hold the city and—"

"Guards!" called out Denethor.

Two guards grabbed Salandiel and started to pull her out of the room. She tried to fight them off but her mind was too focused on having Lord Denethor listen to her.

"No! Don't do this!" shouted Salandiel, struggling in the arms of the guards.

Denethor rose to meet her. 

"I should've had you killed when I had the chance!" he exclaimed.

He looked up to address the guards, "Take her to the cells, I will deal with her later."

Salandiel struggled as the guards pulled her back.

"Faramir! Listen to me! Don't ride to Osgiliath!" shouted Salandiel, "They will kill you all! They are planning to attack. Tonight!" 

Salandiel felt the betrayal as Faramir looked down, refusing to meet her face.

"Pippin?!" cried out Salandiel.

Not knowing what to do, Pippin stood there with his mouth open, his eyes crying out. With one last look at the evil face of Lord Denethor, the doors closed and Salandiel was dragged, kicking and screaming, down to the dark cells, far beneath the city, where no light was able to reach.

Salandiel was stripped of her weapons and thrown roughly into a small cell, the bars clanging closed and the final sound of the key locking her in ringing through the air.

Salandiel threw herself against the bars.

"Someone please listen to me!" Salandiel shouted.

She looked to the guards, pleading with them, but they just shook their heads in disdain.

"You must let me out! Please! Something terrible is coming!"

The guards gave her one last look and left her in the room. Salandiel's pleas and screams rung through the cells until she no longer make a sound and her throat grew raw. Her cries travelled up into the roof of her dingy cell and rose until she felt all hope drain from her and flow into the stones of the dark dungeons that she stood in; her plea left unheard.