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

Chapter 24-The Sacrifice of Faramir (Edited)

The sound of the horses' hooves pounding on the cobblestone rung throughout Minas Tirith. With each step that Faramir took towards the gate, the hearts of the people grew heavy with sorrow. Many had gathered to say farewell to their husbands, fathers and brothers. All those present knew that they would not return from this fruitless battle. Flowers were thrown in the path of the soldiers, their petals showing the way to their ultimate deaths.

~~~~~

Salandiel had screamed until she no longer could and clung to the bars of her cell, hoping that a miracle would appear. She, too, heard the echo of the soldiers riding out to war. Looking around her cell, Salandiel noticed a small window on the opposite wall, with bars, high above her. She walked towards the window and felt along the wall for any crevices. Finding a place for her foot, Salandiel heaved herself up and held tightly onto the bars of the window. It was too small for her to escape through but she could clearly see Pellenor Field stretch far in front of her and the sight of Faramir leading his soldiers to Osgiliath caused the bile to rise in her throat. So Denethor has decided that a city is far more important than the lives of his people, thought Salandiel.

The scene played out in front of her; Faramir leading the soldiers to Osgiliath, the arrows flying and hitting their marks, the soldiers falling one by one until none were left. Too tired to keep fighting, Salandiel let go of the bars and sunk to the floor. She wrapped her arms around herself, imagining that they were her father's arms, and let out heart-wrenching cry of despair. For the first time in a long time, Salandiel felt tears falling from her eyes.

~~~~~

I choose a mortal life

I cannot sit here and wait for some 'sign' whilst my people are in danger

Just ran away and hide!

I choose a mortal life

Follow the river. Look to the black ships.

I choose a mortal life

Aragorn woke up suddenly, still hearing the voices ringing throughout his head. Ever since Salandiel had so suddenly left Minas Tirith, Aragorn could not help but think of her. Where was she now? Is she safe? And as soon as thoughts of Salandiel entered his mind, he shut them out. She was not the woman for him. Too often had Aragorn compared his relationship with Arwen to his relationship with Salandiel. Arwen was stable, a rock for him, but Salandiel was passionate and bold. But despite all of this, both of them were out of Aragorn's reach.

"Sir?" came a voice from the entrance of the tent, "King Theoden awaits you, my lord."

Aragorn followed the young soldier out the tent and into King Theoden's tent. Theoden was not alone. A figure sat in a chair, their face covered by a hood. Theoden looked towards the figure and then back at Aragorn.

"I take my leave," said Theoden, who proceeded to leave the tent.

The figure stood up and removed their hood. Aragorn was surprised to see Elrond standing before him.

"My Lord Elrond," said Aragorn, bowing.

"I come on behalf of one whom I love. Arwen is dying. She will not long survive the evil that now spreads from Mordor."

Aragorn stood there in shock. Arwen was still in Middle-Earth?

"The light of the Evenstar is failing, as Sauron's power grows, her strength wanes," continued Elrond, "Arwen's life is now tied to the fate of the Ring. The shadow is upon us Aragorn. The end has come."

"It will not be our end, but his."

Aragorn refused to let the shock of Arwen register on his face and tried to put on a brave face.

"You ride to war but not to victory," said Elrond, "Sauron's armies ride on Minas Tirith, this you know. But in secret he sends another force, which will attack from the river. A fleet of Corsair ships sail from the South. They will be in the city in two days. You're outnumbered Aragorn. You need more men."

"There are none."

"There are those that dwell in the mountain."

A frightening image of the King of the Dead passed through Aragorn's mind and he felt a chill run through his body.

"Murderers," said Aragorn, "Traitors! You would call upon them to fight? They believe in nothing. They answer to no one."

"They will answer to the King of Gondor."

Elrond pulled out from inside his cloak a sword, holding it out to Aragorn.

"Andúril," said Elrond, "The Flame of the West, forged from the shards of Narsil."

Aragorn took the blade from Elrond's hands and looked on in awe.

"Sauron will not have forgotten the sword of Elendil," said Aragorn.

He drew the magnificent sword from the scabbard and held it up, its silver blade gleaming in the candlelight.

"The blade that was broken shall return to Minas Tirith," said Aragorn.

"The man who can wield the power of this sword," replied Elrond, "can summon to him an army more deadly than any that walks this earth. Put aside the Ranger. Become who you were born to be."

Aragorn knew that he was right. So many lives were on the line and it was only he who could lead them to victory.

"Únen i-Estel Edain (I gave hope to the Dunedain)," said Elrond.

"Ú-chebin Estel anim (I have kept no hope for myself)" finished Aragorn.

Aragorn thought back to those words that were carved onto the stone of his mother, back in Rivendell. She had fought to give him a better life so that one day he could lead. He had to lead so that they could win this war; for his mother, for his friends, for Arwen who was fading away. He also remembered the first conversation he had shared with Salandiel that night, in that garden, and how she, too, had only wanted a king to lead the people of Gondor. Aragorn knew he had to win this fight. 

For Salandiel.