Banished

Harry was roused gently by Gandalf. Candles had been lit in their chamber, for only a dim twilight came through the windows; the air was heavy as with approaching thunder.

"What time is it?" asked Harry gently untangling himself from Luna, who he let be content in her slumber.

"Past the second hour," said Gandalf, "Pippin has been summoned to the Lord of the City to learn his new duties and our duties are almost upon us."

Harry stood while Gandalf retreated to the other room to rouse the young hobbit. He grabbed his staff and performed a few cleaning spells on himself and his normal clothes and quickly got dressed in his robes and belted his sword. Though he was loath to do it, he gently nudged Luna to awaken her. Luna rarely received peaceful sleep, just like he never did, and when they did it was a precious commodity to rob, but he had no choice.

"Mmmm," she murmured in annoyance.

"Sorry my love, we have to get up," said Harry softly while gently caressing the exposed tresses of her hair. Luna gave up trying to ignore him and with an extremely droopy expression sat up in bed and grabbed him in a hug where she laid claim to his mouth with a soft kiss.

"I'm up," she stated and got up out of bed. It allowed Harry to be dazzled with her nude form for a while. He couldn't suppress a cluck of disappointment as she clothed herself in her witch's robes and cast refreshing spells on herself and combed her hair. She grinned impishly at him her eyes alight with momentary mischief.

"Good morning, Luna the Eye," greeted Gandalf coming back in to their room.

"Gandalf," nodded Luna, "How will we have breakfast?"

"I have provided a light breakfast in the main chamber; it is all we will get till noon. Food is now rationed by order," explained the elder wizard.

***

Before long they were walking with Gandalf once more down the cold corridor to the door of the Tower Hall. There Denethor sat in a grey gloom, like an old patient spider, he did not seem to have moved since the day before. He beckoned the three mages to seats, but Pippin was left for a while standing unheeded. Harry wondered why the little hobbit was being treated in this fashion but all became clear soon enough. Denethor now turned to address the small hobbit.

"Well, Master Peregrin, I hope that you used yesterday to your profit and to your liking? Though I fear that the board is barer in this city than you could wish," stated Denethor mildly.

Pippin squirmed under the old man's gaze, but to his credit remained silent.

"What would you do in my service?" asked Denethor.

"I thought sir, that you would tell me my duties," replied the hobbit.

"I will, when I learn what you are fit for," said Denethor, "but that I shall learn soonest if I keep you beside me. The esquire of my chambers has begged leave to go to the garrison, so you shall take his place for a while. You shall wait on me, bear errands, and talk to me, if war and council leave me any leisure. Can you sing?"

"Yes," said Pippin, "well enough for my own people. But we no songs fit for great halls and evil times, lord. We seldom sing of anything more terrible than the wind or the rain. And most of my songs are about things that make us laugh; or about food and drink; of course."

Harry smiled in amusement at the hobbit and saw Luna was also smiling serenely at him. It seemed Denethor did not agree with his small warrior's opinion of the worthiness of his songs.

"And why should such songs be unfit for my halls, or for hours such as these? We who have lived long under the Shadow, may surely listen to echoes of a land untroubled by it? Then we may feel that our vigil was not fruitless, though it may have been thankless," said Denethor.

Harry was now really feeling sorry for the hobbit, was the small Halfling going to be asked to sing? But luckily it seemed that Denethor had more need of Gandalf's council than a bright tune to fill his ears. Denethor questioned the elder wizard on the Rohirrim and their policies, which Harry also listened eagerly to, he asked of Eomer the king's nephew. Harry was rather amazed at how much the Lord of Minas Tirith seemed to know about a people so far away, though it must have been many years since that Denethor himself had ridden abroad.

Denethor eventually waved to Pippin and dismissed him again for a while.

"Go to the armories of the Citadel," he said, "and get you there the livery and gear of the Tower. It will be ready. It was commanded yesterday. Return when you are clad!" ordered Denethor. The hobbit bowed and walked out of the throne room.

"An interesting race of people they are," commented Denethor after the hobbit had left.

"For what they lack in stature and strength, they more than make up for in heart and spirit," replied Harry evenly.

"Is that the reasoning you used Gandalf the Grey, when you cast the lot of Isuldur's Bane upon one of his kindred's shoulders?" asked Denethor in a grim, accusing voice.

"Only in part, Lord Denethor," said Gandalf, "hobbits come from a land as unsullied by the Shadow as there exists anywhere on Middle-Earth, that is a strength which one must have to resist the temptation of the One Ring."

"Indeed," said Denethor in a voice that clearly showed he was unconvinced.

"Lord Denethor," said Luna, "do you not know what would happen should you have come upon possession of the One Ring and tried to use it?"

"Please lady," interrupted Denethor, "speak not in riddles when you address me. I have little time for it."

"The One Ring answers only to one master, since the ring itself is actually a part of Sauron himself, it would only aid you to your own destruction in the end, even should you use it to smite all of the enemies arrayed against you," she said airily.

"How easy would it be for the quest those two Halflings are on to fail?" retorted Denethor angrily, "the fate of all of us have been entrusted to the Weak."

"How can the Wise and Mighty do anything when they are weak as well," argued Gandalf.

"The Ring could not have been entrusted onto anyone with power, for the Ring would soon control that very person to the ruin of all," said Harry, "Gandalf could not even trust himself with it, he would've used it out of a desire to do good, but in the end he would merely have fallen into the Shadow and become another Sauron."

Denethor sighed heavily and lowered his head staring deeply into his lap. The silence and tension in the air could be cut with a knife as the three mages waited for the Steward to speak again. Harry reached over and clasped Luna's hand lovingly. Finally, after a seeming eternity Denethor raised his head.

"Osgilliath will fall before the morning is out, go and assist in preparing the final defense through whatever means you deem necessary," ordered Denethor and dismissed them.

***

The three mages spent the rest of the morning advising in the defense of the city. They talked with the various Captains in charge of different sections of the outer wall and changed the various catapult and trebuchet emplacements. Harry also advised that at least a few archers be stationed around each of the emplacements, when asked why Harry's reply was simple.

"Do you not think Sauron would not use all of the Nazgul in the attack? They are mounted on fell beasts and could easily assault the upper levels of the city without challenge," he stated.

The Captains accepted his thinking and gave the necessary orders. They three mages were now walking on the battlements of the Outer walls in deep conversation.

"As with Helm's deep, the gate is the weakness, even though it is extremely large and strong, it can be beaten down," stated Harry.

"True," murmured Gandalf, "it would take at the very least a mechanized battering ram made out of iron."

"Could you not ward the gate with blood magic, as you did with the grate at Helm's deep?" asked Luna.

"I probably could, but do you think Denethor would give me some of his blood?" asked Harry archly.

"No," sighed Luna, "it does not seem as if he is enamored with our presence, he merely tolerates it."

"The warding of blood is a good idea, but you must keep in mind who is the Captain of the Black Riders," said Gandalf, "he used to be called the Witch-King of Angmar; a once great sorcerer who ruled his kingdom of Men with the aid of magic. He is as skilled as we all are; he could break the warding if he sees it."

"He is a match for you then?" asked Harry.

"I suppose I could defeat him but I could not kill him, you see, the Witch-King is subject to a prophecy which stated that no living man could hinder him," said Gandalf, "even as a Nazgul that still holds true for him."

"Something we have in common," commented Harry dryly.

It was at that point that Luna came to a sudden stop and turned her eyes to the vast stretching Pellenor fields on their left. Harry noticed she was not following and turned to her. She was wearing a look of intense concentration that Harry knew all too well. He hurried to her side with Gandalf not far behind.

"Luna," murmured Harry into her ear and stroked her cheek with the back of his hand, "remember where you are, and do not get lost." He continued to whisper words of love and encouragement and wrapped her from behind in his embrace. He felt his heart swelling and reached out to her.

Abruptly she tensed stiff and gasped and was breathing deeply.

"Easy now," said Harry, "it lasted only a few seconds."

She turned around in his embrace and sought his lips and they kissed chastely.

"We have to hurry," said Luna softly, "we need to be mounted and outside the gates as soon as possible. The retreat from Osgilliath has begun but there are four Nazgul harassing them, they will not make it without our aid."

Gandalf turned to look himself, his eyes blazing.

"Then let us make haste, and take heed of Luna the Eye," said Gandalf darkly.

The three mages ran to the stables as fast as their legs could carry them. Luckily the residents of the city had heeded orders not to stray from their housing in idleness, so there were no substantial crowds in their way.

In the stables both Haldad and Shadowfax stood restlessly and neighed in irritation at the sight of their masters. Both horses had long since recovered and their spirits did not take to idleness well. Both horses shot out of the stables with their magical riders safely mounted on top. All three mages had their staffs out in their right hands and charged through the levels of the city towards the Great gate.

Harry could already feel the oppressive gloom of the Nazgul settling down upon them and they heard an evil wailing cry.

"OPEN THE GATE!" commanded Gandalf. It was but a moment till the order was heeded and the great gate parted to allow the riders to shoot out onto the fields of Pellenor.

Harry looked forward to the dim Pellenor fields that sped past him, fading away to the barely seen line of the Great River. But now wheeling swiftly across it, like shadows of untimely night, he saw in the air five birdlike forms, horrible as carrion-fowl yet greater than eagles, cruel as death. They swooped over the small column of retreating riders that was all that was left of the companies that had battled to hold Osgilliath.

"On Shadowfax!" cried Gandalf. The wind whipped past Harry as Haldad accelerated to keep pace with his lord.

The Black Riders took passes at the retreating company and on occasion the fell beast would grab bunched riders of the ground with its foul claws and fling them horse and all to their deaths.

It was then that the mages were finally in range to make a difference. Harry and Luna raised their staffs in tandem with Gandalf. Harry channeled his heart and from his staff shot out a beam of white magic, Luna decided to throw her Patronus and Gandalf shot out magic similar to that of Harry's.

The Black Riders swooned in pain and an awful cry rang thought everyone ears. The Nazgul turned tail and swooped away back towards the black land in the east. The magi riders turned their mounts to keep pace with the retreating company from Osgilliath and soon they successfully won their way into the city. The Great Gate shutting tight behind them.

They continued up through the levels of the city and finally stopped and dismounted before the gates of the Citadel. There were many cries of Faramir, Mithrandir, Harold and Luna. The grooms took Shadowfax, Haldad and all the other horses. Harry took Luna's hand and walked forward to the gate with Gandalf and Faramir.

This allowed Harry for the first time to study the son of Denethor. Faramir had the face of one who had been assailed by a great fear or anguish, but has mastered it and now is quiet. Proud and grave he stood for a moment as he spoke to the guard. He wore an air of high nobility such as Aragorn at times revealed, less high perhaps, yet also less incalculable and remote: one of the Kings of Men born into a later time, but touched with the wisdom and sadness of the Elves. Harry recognized that he was a captain that men would follow even under the shadow of darkness. It took one to know one.

Harry heard the familiar voice of Pippin coming from behind them.

"Faramir!" he cried aloud and Faramir himself catching this strange voice among the clamor of the men of the City, turned and looked down at the little hobbit and was amazed.

"Where do you come from?" asked Faramir, "a Halfling , and in the gear of the tower?"

But with that Gandalf stepped to his side and spoke: "He came with me from the land of the Halflings."

"And you even brought more of your kin to help," stated Faramir eyeing Harry and Luna

"Indeed, it is most fortunate that Harold the Lost, and Luna the Eye could join me on this quest," said Gandalf, "but let us not tarry here. There is much to say and to do, and you are weary. The Halfling shall come with us. Indeed he must, for if he does not forget his new duties more easily than I do, he must attend on his lord again within this hour. Come, Pippin, follow us!"

***

So at length they came to the private chamber of the Lord of the City. There deep seats were set about a brazier of charcoal; and wine was brought. The three mages had taken their customary seats in front of Denethor, while Faramir sat upon a low chair at his father's left hand.

In the beginning Faramir spoke only of the errand upon which he had been sent out ten days before, and he brought tidings of the movements of the Enemy and his allies; and he told of the fight on the road when the men of Harad and their great beast were overthrown.

Then suddenly Faramir looked at Pippin.

"But now we come to strange matters," he said, "for this is not the first Halfling that I have seen walking out of the northern legends into the Southlands."

At that all three mages sat up and gripped the arms of their chairs, but said nothing. Harry could feel the nervousness coursing through his bones at the prospect of news from the Ringbearer. Slowly, Faramir told his tale, with his eyes for the most part on Gandalf, though now and again his glance strayed onto Pippin.

As his story was unfolded of his meeting with Frodo and his servant and of the events at Henneth Annun, Harry came aware that Gandalf's hands were trembling as they clutched the arms of his chair. Harry was sure that he was not much better at the moment, as he could feel his intense gaze radiate outward and it felt like his breath was struck from him. Luna was wearing a rare look of intense concentration on Faramir, and that was rare enough from her.

The air of the room was close and still. At last when Faramir spoke of his parting with the travelers, and of their resolve to go to Cirith Ungol, his voice fell and he shook his head and sighed.

Gandalf sprang up from his chair. Harry had no idea what was bad about the place, but he judged from Gandalf's reaction that it was not a family picnic ground.

"Cirith Ungol?" the old wizard asked, "the time, Faramir, the time? When did you part with them? When would they reach that accursed valley?"

"I parted with them in the morning two day ago," said Faramir, "it is fifteen leagues to the vale of the Morgulduin from there, if they went straight south; and then they would be still five leagues westward of the accursed Tower. At swiftest, they could not come there before today and maybe they have not come there yet. I see what you fear. But the darkness is not due to their venture. It began yesterday evening, and all Ithilien was under shadow last night. It is clear to me that the Enemy has long planned an assault on us, and its hour had already been determined before ever the travelers left my keeping."

Gandalf paced the floor restlessly: "The morning of two days ago, nigh on three days of journey! How far is the place where you parted?"

"Some twenty-five leagues as a bird flies," answered Faramir, "but I could not come more swiftly. Yesterday evening I lay at Cair Andros, the long isle in the River northward which we hold in defense; and horses are kept on the hither bank. As the dark drew on I knew that haste was needed, so I rode with three others that could also be horsed. The rest of my company I sent south to strengthen the garrison at the fords of Osgilliath. I hope I have not done ill?" he looked at his father.

"Ill?" cried Denethor, and his eyes flashed in anger, "why do you ask? The men were under your command. Or do you ask for my judgment on all your deeds? Your bearing is lowly in my presence, yet it is long now since you turned from your own way at my counsel. See, you have skillfully, as ever; but I, have I not seen your eye fixed on Mithrandir, seeking whether you said well or too much? He has long had your heart in his keeping."

"My son, your father is old but not yet dotard. I can see and hear, as was my wont; and little of what you have half said or left unsaid is hidden from me. I know the answer to many riddles. Oh Boromir!"

Harry shook his head in disbelief. Denethor had just learned of his youngest son's wellbeing through all a manner of trials and dangers and yet he still yearns for the son he had lost, not focusing on what he had now.

"If what I have done displeases you father," said Faramir quietly, "I wish I had known your counsel before the burden of so weighty a judgment was thrust on me."

"Would that have changed your judgment?" asked Denethor, "you would still have done the same, I deem. I know you well. Ever you desire to appear lordly and generous as king of old, gracious, gentle. That may well befit one of high race, if he sits in power and peace. But in desperate hours gentleness may be repaid with death."

"So be it," said Faramir.

"So be it!" cried Denethor, "but not with your death only, Lord Faramir; with the death also of your father, and of all your people, whom it is your part to protect now that Boromir is gone."

"Do you wish then," asked Faramir heavily, Harry was even sure that unshed tears were sparkling in his eyes, "that our places had been exchanged?"

"Yes, I wish that indeed," said Denethor. Harry could only flinch, he had never known loving parents, but this was beyond unforgivable. Here was a parent openly wishing another sibling had died, he could not fathom such behaviour.

"For Boromir was loyal to me," continued Denethor, "and no wizard's pupil. He would have remembered his father's need, and would not have squandered what fortune gave. He would have brought me a mighty gift."

"I would ask you, my father," retorted Faramir angrily, "to remember why it was that I, not he, was in Ithilien. On one occasion at least your counsel has prevailed, not so long ago. It was the Lord of the City that gave the errand to Rivendell to him."

"Stir not the bitterness in the cup that I have mixed for myself," said Denethor, "have I not tasted it now many nights upon my tongue, foreboding that worse yet lay in the dregs? And now indeed I find. If only it were not so! If only this thing had come to me!"

"Comfort yourself!" said Gandalf, "in no case would Boromir have brought the One Ring to you. He is dead and died well, may he sleep in peace! Yet you continue to deceive yourself. He would have taken the Ring, and taking it he would have fallen. He would have kept it for his own, and when he returned you would not have known your son."

"You found Boromir less willing to side with you, did you not?" said Denethor softly, "but I who was his father know that he would have brought it to me. You are wise, Mithrandir, yet with all your subtleties you have not all wisdom. Counsels may be found that are neither the webs of wizards nor the haste of fools. I have in this matter more lore and wisdom than you know."

"What then is your wisdom?" sighed Gandalf. At this point Harry was starting to draw too many parallels between Denethor and Minister Fudge, and it did not bode well for the coming battle.

"Enough to perceive that there are two follies to avoid. To use this Ring is perilous. At this hour, to send it in the hands of a witless Halfling into the land of the Enemy himself, as you have done, and this son of mine, that is madness," said Denethor.

"And the Lord Denethor what would he have done?" asked Harry sharply.

"Neither. But most surely not for any argument would he have set this Ring at a hazard beyond all but a fool's hope, risking our utter ruin, if the Enemy should recover what he lost. No, it should have been kept, hidden, hidden dark and deep. Not used, unless at the uttermost end of the need, but set beyond his grasp, save by a victory so final that what then befell would not trouble us, being dead," explained Denethor fervently.

"You think, my lord, of Gondor only," said Harry, "yet there are other men and other lives, and time still to be. I pity even Sauron's slaves at the moment."

"And where will other men look for help if Gondor falls?" answered Denethor.

"If I had the One Ring now in the deep vaults of this citadel," continued Denethor, "we should not then shake with dread under this gloom, fearing the worst, and our councils would be undisturbed. If you do not trust me to endure the test, then you do not know me yet."

"Nonetheless, I do not trust you," said Gandalf, "had I done so, I would have sent the Ring to you and spared myself and others much anguish. And now hearing you speak I trust you less, no more than Boromir. Stay your wrath! I do not trust myself with the Ring, and I refused it, even as a freely given gift. You are strong and can in some matters still govern yourself, Denethor; yet if you had received the Ring it would have overthrown you. Were it buried beneath the roots of the Mindolluin, still it would burn your mind away, as the darkness grows."

Harry saw with growing alarm how the eyes of Denethor glowed as he faced Gandalf and there was a great straining between their wills. Their glances were like dueling blades. But suddenly Denethor relaxed and grew cold again and shrugged his shoulders.

"If I had! If you had!" cried Denethor, "Such words are useless. The Ring has gone into the Shadow, and only time will tell what doom awaits it, and us. The time will not be long. In what is left, let all who fight the Enemy in their fashion be at one, and keep hope while they may, and after hope still the hardiness to die free."

The Lord of the City turned to his son: "What do you think of Osgilliath?"

"It is overrun completely father and held by the vanguard of the force which will eventually assail Minas Tirith in force," answered Faramir.

"From there the first blow will come," agreed Denethor.

"There and elsewhere in many places," said Faramir, and sighed, "alas for Boromir, whom I too loved!" He rose. "May I have your leave father?" he swayed and leaned upon his father's chair.

"You are weary I see," said Denethor, "you have ridden fast and far, and under shadows of evil in the air, I am told."

"Let us not speak of that!" said Faramir.

"Then we will not, go now and rest as you may. Tomorrow will demand more of you."

****

Everyone took leave of the Lord of the City and went to rest while they still could. Outside there was a starless blackness as the three mages, with Pippin beside them bearing a small torch, made his way to their lodging. They did not speak until they were behind closed doors.

They returned to the balcony and looked once again looked over the vast landscape, towards the east. Then at last Pippin took Gandalf's hand.

"Tell me," said Pippin, "is their any hope? For Frodo I mean; or at least mostly for Frodo."

"There never was much hope," answered Gandalf, "just a fool's hope, as I have been told. And when I heard of Cirith Ungol, why that way I wonder?"

"Gandalf, what is so perilous about the place?" asked Harry curiously, leaning on the railings.

"That my dear Harold, to explain fully would take a long time, but I can tell you that the valley contains the fortress where the Black Captain of the Nazgul chiefly resides," answered Gandalf darkly.

"Why would Gollum try and take them into Mordor through that route?" asked Luna.

"I don't know," said Gandalf, "Faramir said that Frodo spared Gollum's life and Frodo acted as if there was a great debt between Gollum and him. There is also the fact that Gollum was guiding them. That creature surely knows every route in and out of Mordor, as he should, considering how long he was imprisoned there and eventually let loose to roam freely."

"Maybe then Gollum knows of a secret route," opinioned Harry.

"Perhaps," nodded Gandalf, "and yet I believe that the news that Faramir brings has some hope in it. For it seems clear that our Enemy has opened his war at last and made the first move while Frodo was still free. So now for many days he will have his eyes turned this way and that, away from his own land. And yet, I feel from afar his haste and fear. He has begun sooner than he would. Something has happened to stir him."

"Could Pippin's foolishness with the Palantiri have helped do that? I myself was briefly under Sauron's gaze when I caught it," said Harry.

"Maybe," muttered Gandalf, "some five days ago he would discover that we had thrown down Saruman, and had taken the Stone. Still what of that? We could not use it too much purpose, or without his knowing. Your appearance to him Harold, I must admit would greatly intrigue him and cause further doubt in his mind, your wielding of a magic he has no knowledge of, would cause him fear, no doubt. Ah! I wonder. Aragorn?"

"What of him?" asked Harry curiously, wondering what the Ranger could have done to give Sauron a bout of panic.

"Aragorn's time draws near, and he is strong and stern underneath, Harold; bold, determined, able to take his own counsel and dare great risks at need. That may be it. He may have used the Stone and shown himself to the Enemy, challenging him, for this very purpose. I wonder."

"We shall not know the answers until the Riders of Rohan come," supplied Luna, "if they do not come too late. There are evil days ahead. We must rest."

"But," said Pippin.

"But what?" said Gandalf, "only one but will I allow tonight."

"How on earth could they be going with Gollum, even following him? And I could see that Faramir did not like the place he was taking them to any more than you do. What is wrong?" asked the little hobbit.

"I cannot answer that now," said Gandalf, "yet my heart guessed that Frodo and Gollum would meet before the end, for good, or for evil. But of Cirith Ungol I will not speak more tonight. Treachery, treachery I fear; treachery of that miserable creature. But so it must be. Let us remember that a traitor may betray himself and do good that he does not intend. It can be so sometimes. Good night!"

****

Harry had barely cast the last ward on their room before Luna assaulted him with fervor. She undressed him so fast he hardly blinked and he was already nude before her.

"Hasty are we?" teased Harry with an impish smile. Luna cast a disrobing spell on herself and banished all her clothes into a neat pile.

"I believe I am," she stated as matter of fact, and pulled him towards the bed. Both fell on the bed with a thump and Harry felt already as if he could not touch enough of her. His hands and body seared with magic. Their lips met in a searing, soul wrenching kiss and with a swift movement he deposited her underneath him, letting his arms and knees take his weight.

His kisses trailed slowly from her mouth down her neck, paying lavish attention to each perfect breast with his tongue flicking each nipple to stand erect. She was already in a delirious frenzy underneath him and gasping from passion. His kisses trailed lower to her stomach where he lazily flicked his tongue into her navel. He knew that would just drive her insane and was not disappointed. He was thankfully glad he remembered to place a good sound warding on the room, for she cried his name in moaning groan of frustration.

Feeling a bit bold, he went even lower and she willing parted her legs for him to continue, he would not refuse such an obvious sign to carry on. His kisses trailed onto her inner thighs while his hands were now free to leisurely caress her stomach. He now brought his hands down to her thighs so he could hold her in place for what he planned to do next.

Without warning his lips deviated to kiss her on her core and she immediately cried out and arched her back with her hips trying to move up, but his hands prevented her from bashing him in the face. His tongue delved into her secret folds and he could feel her entire body tense as waves of passion started to crash against her. Harry delighted in the musky smell and continued to drive her towards their goal.

There were many benefits to being a Legillimens, but what it would never say in the manual that Dumbledore gave him, was that it allowed Harry to sense exactly how far Luna was to reaching that goal they both so desired.

"Come Harry," she whimpered, he was not surprised. He scooted up her till they were face to face and looking each other in the eyes. He felt like he staring into the bright infinity of life through her eyes. He slowly guided himself inside her, only letting his tip inside her and pulling out, her eyes fluttered closed as the sensation took all her energy and concentration. He was in again, but slightly deeper and pulled out. He repeated the process, until they were fully one and she was a whimpering mass of desire, gasping for air.

Judging by how Harry felt, he wasn't any better, as there were no rational thoughts in his mind, he was free, his chains were broken. He rhythmically thrust into her while she arched her hips against him in the most primitive of movements; everything was instinct, pleasure, passion and bliss. It was all encompassing, yet at the basis of all these torrents of emotion lay the foundation of it all, love.

Luna cried out and he sensed her climax, as she reached the peaks of her desire. Harry followed not a few moments after, Luna having regained some rational thought, locked her legs over his hips arching her back as he spilled his essence into her.

Both lovers fell exhausted still clinging to each other in the afterglow, a light sheen of sweat covered them. All was right in the world for the moment.

****

The next day came with a morning like a brown dusk, and the heats of men, lifted for a while by the return of Faramir, sank low again. The Nazgul were not seen again that day, yet Harry heard once in a while above the city, a faint cry, and many around him who heard it would stand stricken with passing dread, while the less stout hearted quailed and wept.

Harry had heard that Faramir was gone again. The people whispered that the Lord of the City drove his son too hard, and that he had to do the duty of two. And all the soldiers looked northward asking: "Where are the Riders of Rohan?"

Harry found himself facing that question from some of the captains that he met on his sojourn along the upper garden of the Citadel. He could give no answer as to the exact time, but told the Captains that they would come, but perhaps not in time to prevent a siege from forming around the city.

In truth Faramir did not go of his own choosing. But Denethor was the master of his Council and he was in no mood that day to bow to others. Early in the morning the Council had been summoned. The three mages stood the side while all the Captains stood arrayed in front of Denethor.

There all the Captains judged that because of the threat of the South their force was too weak to make any stroke of war on their own part, unless perchance the Riders of Rohan should come. Meanwhile they were to man the walls and wait.

"Yet," said Denethor, "we should not lightly abandon the outer defenses, the Rammas made with so great a labor. And the Enemy must pay dearly for the crossing of the River. That he cannot do, in force to assail the City, either north of Cair Andros because of the marshes, or southwards towards Lebinnin because of the breadth of the River, that needs many boats. It is at Osgilliath that he will put his weight, as before when Boromir denied him that passage."

Harry was sure Ron would have kittens if he heard this strategic reasoning. It made no sense to defend any place outside of the City anymore, the siege would happen anyway. And Denethor was basing his decision on what happened in the past, which was but a skirmish victory to recapture Osgilliath, which Boromir leaded. Harry sighed and shook his head in resignation.

"That was but a trial," said Faramir, "today we make the Enemy pay ten times our loss at the passage and yet rue the exchange. For he can afford to lose a host better than we could lose a company, and the retreat of those that we put out far will be perilous, if he wins across in force."

"And what of Cair Andros?" asked the Prince. "That too must be held if Osgilliath is defended. Let us not forget the danger on our left. The Rohirrim may come or they may not. But Faramir has told us of a great strength drawing ever to the Black Gate. More than one host may issue from it, and strike for more than one passage."

"Much must be risked in war," said Denethor. "Cair Andros is manned, and no more can be sent so far. But I will not yield the River and the Pellenor unfought - not if there is a Captain here who has still the courage to do his lord's will."

Then all were silent. But at length Faramir said: "I do not oppose your will sire. Since you are robbed of Boromir, I will go and do what I can in his stead - if you command it."

"I do so," said Denethor.

"Then farewell!" said Faramir. "But if I should return think better of me!"

"That depends on the manner of your return," said Denethor.

Faramir was about to walk out of the throne room, Harry and Luna ambushed him. Gandalf remained to listen to the meeting of the Captains.

"Do not throw your life away rashly or in bitterness," said Harry, "you will be needed here, for other things than war."

"Your father loves you, Faramir," said Luna, "and will remember it before the end. Farewell!"

Faramir only nodded and walked out of throne room.

"Now we see the main problem with a monarchy," sighed Harry. Luna held his hand and squeezed tenderly.

"No one can truly oppose Denethor's decisions, even if they are in error or unwise," nodded Luna.

"Makes we wish sometimes the wizarding world back home was a true democracy," said Harry, "one of the first things that I will push for is a reduction for the discretionary powers that a Minister has, especially with regards to law enforcement."

"Why?" asked Luna genuinely curious.

"It's because of Ministerial discretion that Sirius was never given a trial, and if he could have been given Veritaserum in interrogation his whole life would be different, mine would be different, I can't even begin to count all the other lives that would have been influenced differently," explained Harry, "and wizarding law is too medieval, you are not innocent until proven guilty, you are assumed to be guilty until proven innocent."

****

So now the Lord Faramir had gone forth again, and had taken with him such strength of men as were willing to go or could be spared. On the walls the three mages and the rest of the populace gazed through the gloom towards the ruined city, and they all wondered what was happening there, for nothing could be seen. And others as ever looked north and counted the leagues to Theoden in Rohan.

****

It was night before news came. A man rode in haste from the fords, saying that a host had issued from Minas Morgul and was already drawing near to Osgilliath; and it had been joined by regiments from the South, Haradrim, cruel and tall.

Harry had to resort to a casting a Calming Charm on the poor messenger so he could relay the last part of his message properly to Denethor.

"And we have learned," said the messenger, "that the Black Captain leads them once again, and the fear of him has passed before him over the River."

With those ill-boding words the third day closed since they had come to Minas Tirith. Few went to rest, for small hope any now that even Faramir could hold the fords for long.

****

The next day, though the darkness had reached its full and grew no deeper, it weighed heavier on men's hearts, and a great dread was on them.

The passage of Anduin was won by the Enemy. Faramir was retreating to the wall of the Pellenor, rallying his men to the Causeway Forts; but he was ten times outnumbered.

"If he wins back at all across the Pelennor, his enemies will be on his heels," said the messenger, "they have paid dear for the crossing, but less dearly than we hoped. The plan has been well laid. It is now seen that in secret they have long been building floats and barges in great number in East Osgilliath. They swarmed across like beetles. But it's the Black Captain that defeats us. Few will stand and abide even the rumor of his coming. His own folk quail at him, and they would slay themselves at his bidding."

"Then I am needed there more than here," said Gandalf.

Harry and Luna expressed their desire to come with and help but Gandalf politely told them that it was best for them not to come and battle with the Black Captain.

"Though you possess a magic unknown to him, he has the same advantage over you," explained Gandalf, "remember that also he is not truly alive, and that no man can slay him. Even I will only attempt to thwart his advance to allow the retreat to take place. Also your mere presence keeps the fire of hope stirring in the hearts of those here. Keep working on your spells."

Harry and Luna had to reluctantly agree and soon they stood looking down from the upper garden of the citadel over the Pelennor, to see Gandalf as he rode off and the glimmer of him faded soon from sight. Pippin could not sleep at all and stood with them and gazed eastward.

****

The bells of day had scarcely rung out again, a mockery in the dark, when far away Harry saw fires spring up, across the dim spaces where the walls of Pelennor stood. Harry and Luna were stationed on the fourth level of the city standing next to one of five trebuchets on that level. The Prince was there with them and the archers looked nervously at the sky and over the Pelennor.

The watchmen cried aloud, and all men in the City to arms. Every now and then there was a red flash, and slowly through the heavy air dull rumbled could be heard.

"They have taken the wall," sighed Harry, "they must be blasting breaches in it."

"Where is Faramir?" cried Beregond, "say not that he has fallen."

It was Gandalf who brought news. With a handful of horsemen he came in the middle morning, riding its escort to a line of carts. They were filled with wounded men all that could be saved from the wreck of the Causeway Forts. At once he went to Denethor, hastily telling Harry and Luna to come with.

The Lord of the City sat now in a high chamber above the Hall of the White Tower with Pippin at his side; and through the dim windows, north and south and east, he bent his dark eyes, as if to pierce the shadows of doom that ringed him round. Most to the North he looked, and would pause at whiles to listen as if by some ancient art his ears might hear the thunder of hoofs on the plains far away.

"Is Faramir come?" he asked.

"No," said Gandalf, "but he still lived when I left him. Yet he is resolved to stay with the rear guard, lest the retreat from Pelennor become a rout. He may perhaps hold his men together long enough, but I doubt it. He is pitted against a foe too great. For one has come that I feared."

"Not...the Dark Lord?" cried Pippen, Harry was amused at the look of strangled horror on the face of the hobbit, for some reason it looked quite comical.

Denethor laughed bitterly: "Nay, not yet, Master Peregrin! He will not come save only to triumph over me when all is won. He uses others as weapons. So do all great lords, if they are wise. Or why should I sit here in my tower and think, and watch, and wait, spending even my sons? For I can still wield sword."

He stood up and cast open his long black cloak and he was clad in mail beneath, and girt with long sword, great-hilted in a sheath of black and silver.

"Under the Lord of Barad-dur the most fell of all his captains is already master of your outer walls," said Gandalf, "King of Angmar long ago, Sorcerer, Ringwraith, Lord of the Nazgul, a spear of terror in the hand of Sauron, shadow of despair."

"Then Mirthrandir, you had a foe to match you," said Denethor, "for myself, I have long known who is the chief captain of the horst of the Dark Tower. Is this all you have returned to say? Or can ti be that you have withdrawn because you are overmatched?"

Harry wanted so badly to hex Denethor at that moment, his hand that held his staff was itching, and his anger was barely held in check. Luna's eyes narrowed which showed her anger as well.

"It might be so," answered Gandalf softly, "but our trial of strength is not yet come. And if words spoken of old be true, not by the hand of man shall he fall, and hidden from the Wise is the doom that awaits him. However that may be, the Captain of Despair does not press forward yet. He rules rather according to the wisdom that you have spoken, from the rear, driving his slaves in madness on before."

"No, I come rather to guard the hurt men that can yet be healed; for the Rammas is breached far and wide, and soon the host of Morgul may enter in at many points. And I came chiefly to say this. Soon there will be battle on the fields. A sortie must be made ready. Let it be of mounted men. In them lies our brief hope, for in one thing only is the enemy still poorly provided: he has few horsemen."

"And we have also few, now would the coming of Rohan be in the nick of time," said Denethor.

"We are likely to see other newcomers first," said Gandalf, "fugitives from Cair Andros have already reached us. The isle has fallen. Another army is come from the Black Gate, crossing from the north-east."

"Some have accused you Mithrandir, of delighting to bear ill news," said Denethor, "but to me this is no longer news: it was known to me nightfall yesterday. As for the sortie, I had already given thought to it. Let us go down."

****

Time passed. Harry and Luna could see from the main walls at the lowest level of the City, the retreat of the out companies. Small bands of weary and often wounded men came first with little order; some were running wildly as if pursued. Away to the eastward the distant fires flickered, and now it seemed that here and there they crept across the plain. Houses and barns were burning. Then from many points little rivers of red flame came hurrying on, winding through the gloom, converging towards the line of the broad road that led from the City-gate to Osgilliath.

"The dike is down," said Luna.

"Here they come, and they are carrying torches," said Harry, thinking to the coming death and destruction.

Evening fell, and the light was so dim that even far-sighted men upon the Citadel could discern little clearly out upon the fields, save only the burnings that every multiplied, and the lines of fire that grew in length in speed. At last, less than a mile form the City, a more ordered mass of men came into view, marching not running, still holding together.

"Let us hope Faramir is among them," commented Harry.

"We have to hurry," said Luna.

****

Now the main retreat was scarcely two furlongs distant. Out of the gloom behind, a small company of horsemen galloped, all that was left of the rear guard. Once again they turned, facing the lines of oncoming fire. Then suddenly there was a tumult of fierce cries. Horsemen of the enemy swept up. The lines of fire become flowing torrents, file upon file of Orcs bearing flames, and wild Southron men with red banners, shouting in harsh tongues, surging up, overtaking the retreat. And with a piercing cry out of the dim sky fell the winged shadows, the Nazgul stooping to the kill.

The retreat became a rout. Already men were breaking away, flying wild and witless , flinging away their weapons, crying out in fear, falling to the ground.

A trumpet rang from the Citadel, and Denethor at last released the sortie. All the mounted men that were left in the City, they sprang forward, formed, quickened to a gallop, and charged with a great shout. Foremost on the field rode the swan-knights of Dol Amroth with their Prince and his blue banner at their head, next to them with their staff's held high charged the three mages.

"Amroth for Gondor!" they cried.

Like thunder they broke upon the enemy on either flank of the retreat. But one rider outran them all, swift as the wind in the grass: Shadowfax bore him, shining and unveiled once more, a shining light shot from his staff.

The Nazgul screeched and swept away, for their Captain had not yet come to challenge the white fire of his foe. The hosts of Morgul, intent on their prey, taken unawares at the counter-attack, broke, scattering like sparks in a gale. The out companies gave cheer turned and smote their pursuers. Hunters became hunted. The retreat became an onslaught.

The men looked in awe as the horse that bore the wizard and the witch, slashed through ranks of Orcs, ocean waves of green light shot from their staffs and any living thing that was touched with it fell lifeless, dead. Lightning and fire was summoned and incinerated whole sections of Orcs.

The cavalry rode on.

But Denethor did not permit them to go far. Though the enemy was checked, and for the moment driven back, great forces were flowing in from the East. Again the trumpet rang, sounding the retreat. The cavalry of Gondor halted. Behind their screen the out companies reformed. Now steadily they came marching back. They reached the Gate of the City and entered, stepping proudly; and proudly the people of the City looked on them and cried their praise, and yet they were troubled in heart.

For the companies were grievously reduced. Faramir had lost a third of his men.

"Where is Faramir?" asked Harry in a shout to Gandalf. The old wizard nodded behind them.

Last of all Faramir came, his men passed in. The mounted knights returned, and at their rear the banner of Dol Amroth, and the Prince. And in his arms before him on his horse he bore the body of his kinsman, Faramir son of Denethor, found on the stricken field.

"Oh Merlin," said Harry, this did not bode well for the already questionable judgment of the Lord of the City. There was open weeping in the streets, as they bore him away up the winding road to the Citadel his father.

"What happened?" asked Luna to Gandalf.

"It happened after I had driven off the Nazgul," answered Gandalf, "he was battling with a mounted Harad, and a dart pierced him from the side. Only our charge saved him from the red southland swords that would have killed him as he lay."

"So he is still alive?" asked Harry.

"Yes, for now," answered the old wizard.

The Prince Imrahil brought Faramir to the White Tower. Harry and Luna hurried inside as fast as they could.

"Your son has returned, lord, after great deeds," and the Prince told all that he had seen.

Denethor rose and looked on the face of his son and was silent. Then he ordered them to make a bed in the chamber and lay Faramir upon it and depart.

Harry saw from their quarters later, from just under the summit of the Tower that a pale light gleamed and flickered from the narrow windows for a while, and then flashed and went out. And when Denethor descended again he went to Faramir and sat beside him without speaking, but the face of the Lord was grey, more deathlike than his son's.

****

So now at last the City was besieged, enclosed in a ring of foes. The Rammas was broken, and all the Pelennor abandoned to the Enemy. The last word to come from outside the walls was brought by men flying down the northward road just as the Gate was shut. They were the remnant of the guard that was kept at that point where the way from Anorien and Rohan ran into the townlands. Ingold led them, the same who admitted Gandalf, Harry, Luna and Pippin less than five days before, while the sun still rose and there was hope in the morning.

"Ingold!" shouted Harry beckoning the worn soldier of Gondor.

"It is good to see you again," bowed Ingold.

"The feeling is mutual, what word is there?" asked Harry, Luna presently joined them after helping in the Houses of Healing, as she had some skill in Healing Magic.

"There is no news of the Rohirrim," said Ingold. "Rohan will not come now. Or if they come, it will not avail us. The new host that we had tidings of has come first, from over the River by way of Andros, it is said. They are strong: battalions of Orcs of the Eye, and countless companies of Men of a new sort that we have not met before. Not tall, but broad and grim, bearded like dwarves, wielding great axes. Out of some savage land in the wide East they come, we deem. They hold the northward road; and many have passed into Anorien. The Rohirrim cannot come."