THE THREE TOWERS

Chapter 3 -- The Cross-Roads

“My axe is restless in my hand.  Give me a row of orc-necks and room to swing and all weariness will fall from me!”  ‘Helm’s Deep’, The Two Towers

**

May 27

Stybba, gifted to Merry by Théoden King, was found to be the only pony in the City.  More could be procured in time, from Rohan, but Frodo didn’t want to wait.  It was agreed that Frodo, Sam, and Pippin would ride on the horses of those escorting them – Frodo with Aragorn, Sam with Alcaren, who was delighted that the hobbits wished him to come, and Pippin once more with Gandalf on Shadowfax.  Legolas and Gimli would share Arod, as had become routine.

“Do we really need so many Men?” Frodo asked.  The stables were a frenzy of activity as everyone packed and mounted their horses.  The Company included several dozen well-armed soldiers, most of them Dúnedain of the King’s personal guard.  Two carts were loaded with provisions, light tents, cooking pots, and other gear of travel.

“It is not because I believe we will be in any danger of attack,” Aragorn assured him.  He knew that his scouts -- along with the powers of Sting and Gandalf’s sword, Glamdring -- would serve to alert the party if stray Orcs were near.  “However, it never hurts to be cautious.  There are certain tasks that must be seen to, before we arrive at the Orcs’ tower.”

“What do you mean?”

“Sam told us that the front gate fell in when you both passed through it during your escape.  A safe way into the courtyard may need to be found.”

“That’s true,” Frodo said thoughtfully.

“Also, Frodo, it has been several months since you and Sam escaped -- and the tower and courtyard are no doubt still full of dead Orcs,” Aragorn said gravely.  “I wish as many bodies as possible gathered and burned.  Our full escort will remain with us until we are nearer the tower, at which time I will send a good number of them ahead.”

“I see,” Frodo said quietly.  “Thank you for thinking of all those things.”

“I had help,” Aragorn smiled.  “Once your cousins gave up trying to talk you out of this journey, they worked with Faramir and myself in making arrangements and trying to anticipate everything that might be needed.”

Despite his reassurances that they faced little to no danger on this journey, Aragorn was glad to know that Frodo still wore the mithril mail beneath his shirt, and had agreed to pack (but not wear) the small sword that Sam had carried throughout most of the Quest.  Sam now kept Sting sheathed at his side, at Frodo’s insistence.

“There will be no lack of water along the way.”  Aragorn lifted his small friend onto Brego’s back, and mounted his steed behind him.  “Many men labor in Osgiliath, at the River, and along the Morgul Road to repair damage.  Caches of water and feed for the horses have been set up even well beyond the Cross-Roads.  We will reach there sometime tomorrow, depending upon how long it takes all of us to be ferried across the River.”

“You know of the Cross-Roads?” Frodo asked curiously.

“Indeed I do.  All who accompanied me to the Black Gate – including Pippin and Gandalf – went that way.  Only Gandalf and I rode further east, to the bridge leading to Minas Morgul itself.  We cast down the bridge, but the road is undamaged.”  Aragorn wrapped an arm around Frodo.  “We held out all hope possible for your safe return,” he said.  “We left the road intact in the event you and Sam might need to return from Mordor the same way you entered it.”

“Thank you.  As it turned out, however, we didn’t use the road... much.  There was another, darker way.”  Frodo clutched for a moment at Aragorn’s arm.

“I know,” Aragorn said.  “How are your feet this morning?”

”Still a little tender, but much better than they were,” Frodo said, wiggling them.  “I’m glad we’re riding this time, and not walking.”  He patted Brego.  “On the other hand, I haven’t been on a horse since... Asfaloth.”

“I predict that more than your feet will be a bit sore by the time we stop today,” Aragorn chuckled.  “We’re taking the trip to the tower in easy stages – three to four days, most likely.”

Aragorn gave Brego the signal to walk, the rest of the Company lining up behind him.

“I hope this journey brings you what you seek, Frodo.”

“So do I.”

**

May 28

As Aragorn had anticipated, the greater part of the first day’s journey was consumed by the gentle ride to Osgiliath, then getting the horses and gear across the mile-wide Anduin on the newly-repaired ferries.  Everywhere they met workmen, artisans, or the occasional scout or southern Ranger, the Men had been astonished and delighted to greet the King and his Companions.  All wished to meet the pheriannath, and marvelled at the sight of an Elf and Dwarf riding together, Legolas’ fair voice often raised in song.

Even with frequent rest stops, both Frodo and Sam -- unused to sitting horseback -- felt a little sore by late afternoon, and were most grateful when the party stopped to camp a few hours east of the River.

And so, it was not until late morning of the second day when the Company reached the great ring of trees which marked the convergence of the two mighty roads.

“Oh Sam, look!” Frodo cried.  “Aragorn, please set me down.”

Aragorn dismounted and lifted Frodo to the ground, and Alcaren did the same with Sam.

Their eyes shining, Frodo and Sam looked up.  There before them was the huge, sitting figure they had seen more than two months earlier -- despoiled no longer.  The crude Orc-markings had been scoured away, and the noble, bearded head – still crowned with flowers – had been re-set on massive shoulders.

“We came this way as we traveled to the Black Gate,” Gandalf said, patting Shadowfax gently.  “Aragorn ordered that the statue be cleansed.”

“Does anyone know who this was?” Frodo asked.

“Alas, no; the inscription on the king’s pedestal was worn away,” Aragorn said.

“We, also, felt it was a king,” Frodo said.

“Your instincts are good, Frodo,” Aragorn said softly.  “’The Cross-Roads of the Fallen King’... so this place has been known for a long time.  Perhaps this is he who saw to the building of the roads.”  He bowed before the massive stone figure, and Alcaren did the same.

“Your lands are free once more,” Aragorn whispered, touching the statue for a moment.  He smiled down at Frodo.  “Did I hear a stomach growling?”

“I think that was yours, Strider,” Sam laughed.  “We’ll make a hobbit of you, yet.”

At the King’s request, everyone began unpacking provisions and tending their horses.

“Shadowfax is very beautiful,” Frodo observed to Pippin.

“And have you noticed?” Pippin asked.  “The other horses all wait until he drinks first, and let him have the best feed.  They know.”

“Quality,” Sam said knowingly.  “You can always tell.”

*~*~*~*~*

Frodo leaned against Gandalf, gazing into the comforting fire Sam had insisted on kindling “to make a proper tea” for elevenses.

“It’s so different now,” Frodo mused.  A gentle spring breeze blew through the giant, ancient trees, and birdsong could be heard.  “Everything was so oppressive when Sam and I were here last... lonely, and still, and deadly quiet.  We could only travel at night, and the days were so very dim... hardly any food, being tired, hunted... watched... it seemed that everything was watching.”

“Sauron is gone,” Aragorn said softly, “as are the Nazgúl -- and the dark spells they wove about this land.”

“Sometimes I still can’t quite believe it,” Frodo whispered.

“You may believe your eyes, Frodo,” Alcaren said with a smile, motioning toward Aragorn.  “The King has returned.”

“And you do look the perfect Ranger-King, Strider,” Merry observed.

Everyone laughed.  Aragorn certainly appeared every inch the King -- with his tall and noble bearing, the Elessar stone pinned to his cloak, and Andúril at his side -- while at the same time, a northern Ranger with his worn boots, and relaxed but alert manner.

“By the way, I’ve figured out your game, Aragorn,” Frodo teased.  “I know why you really agreed to come with us.”

“And why is that?” Aragorn smiled.

“When Sam and I awoke, Gandalf said something about the Orc-rags we had worn in Mordor being preserved.  I can’t imagine why.  But you just want to find more mementos in that tower for some sort of exhibit, don’t you?  My clothes, or somesuch.”

“Retrieving your clothes,” Aragorn mused, puffing on his pipe.  “Indeed, you have divined the hidden purpose of this entire expedition.”

“Why didn’t that creature at the Black Gate give us back Frodo’s clothes, as well as... as his cloak, and the mithril, and Sam’s sword?” Pippin asked a little hesitantly.

“I don’t think the Orcs were very... gentle when they removed them, Pip,” Frodo said quietly.  “I doubt there was much left of them.”

“It was your turn, Frodo,” Merry said, trying quickly to lighten his cousin’s mood.  “The wights took all our clothes in that barrow, but not yours.  It’s only fair that you ended up a bit bare also.”

“More than a bit!” Sam laughed, happy to see his master smile.

“Everything feels so different,” Frodo marvelled again.  He lay back and looked up at the clouds.  Soft conversation drifted about him until he fell asleep, and he knew nothing more until Sam woke him for supper.

“We’ll be stayin’ here tonight, Mr. Frodo,” Sam told him.  “We haven’t come that far today, but Strider and Gandalf say we should stop.  They say, if we keep goin’ a few more hours today, we’d most likely reach the Orcs’ tower tomorrow evenin’, and...”

“And they don’t think we should arrive there at night,” Frodo said quietly.  “Neither do I, Sam.”

“Besides, it’ll give Gimli and the Men more time to... well, you know,” Sam muttered.

“Has Gimli gone with them?” Frodo asked, surprised.  Sam nodded.

While Frodo slept, Gimli had mounted a spare horse – awkwardly, and with assistance – and ridden off eastward along the road, accompanied by a dozen sturdy Men.

“He wishes to ride ahead with them,” Legolas had said to Pippin, Merry, and Sam.  They all knew where the Men were going, and the grim duty they would perform at the Tower of Cirith Ungol.

“I’m glad not to have that duty,” Pippin shivered.   “I don’t wish to see another pyre, if it can be avoided.”  Denethor standing upon the pyre, soaked in oil, holding the Seeing Stone in his hand...

“It’s all right, Pip,” Merry said, putting an arm around his young cousin.  He smiled up at Legolas.  “It was good of Gimli to go with the Men.  He’s not much for riding, is he?”

“No,” Legolas said.  “He has at last learned to ride at need, but usually chooses not to do so.  In this instance, I doubt our stalwart friend believes that mere Men can clear a path through the rubble without his aid, or carry so many bodies.”  He exchanged a glance with Aragorn, and said no more.  What he had said was the truth, as far as it went.

Aragorn had assembled the Men who had volunteered to gather and burn the dead Orcs, ensuring that each had gloves, and a stout cloth for covering their mouths and noses when handling the decaying bodies.  He had also given orders that no one was to disturb the room in the upper turret where Frodo had been held captive. As the Men were preparing to set out, Legolas saw Gimli take the King aside and speak quietly with him.  Aragorn’s eyes had flickered once to Frodo’s sleeping form, then back to Gimli, before he nodded, resting his hand on the Dwarf’s shoulder for a moment.  Gimli had fetched his axe before joining the waiting Men, and riding off with them.

Legolas knew that, ever since Ithilien -- when they had both seen the whip weal on Frodo’s side -- Gimli had fervently wished he had come face to face in battle with the Orc from Cirith Ungol who had dealt such a cruel hurt to someone so small and helpless.  He had spoken of it more than once, with a strange glint in his eyes.

Legolas suspected that Gimli would be the first to seek out the Orc called Snaga where he lay -- at the foot of the ladder in the Tower, arm severed by Sam and neck broken in the fall.  And that his friend would see to it that there was little left of that particular Orc to be thrown on the pyre... Legolas had no doubt whatsoever.

** TBC **

Andrea:  Revisiting Cirith Ungol certainly won’t be pleasant, but I would never put Frodo through anything more than he (or I!) could handle.

Anso the Hobbit:  Healing comes in many forms, as we all know... and Frodo won't be the only one to experience interesting things on this journey.  Thank you for reading!

aprilkat:  I love how you describe Frodo – “unflinchingly constant and unsparing of himself” – and am so gratified that you feel my characterizations are “true”.  Thank you for your lovely words.  Since I haven’t yet planned every detail or scene of this story, I suspect that Frodo’s journey with his renewed Fellowship will bring many experiences to them that they – and I – don’t anticipate.

Ariel:  Thank you for the vote of confidence.  I doubt I can -- or wish to -- ever write as angsty as most folks crave, but I try to at least keep things interesting!

Armariel:  I hope we never run out of fanfic to write... and read!  No need to hurry, the stories will always be here when you’re ready to read.  I'm glad you feel this storyline will work!  I hope so.

Baggins Babe:  I’ve wanted to write this story for soooo long, and it’s a relief to finally have time to devote to it.  Thank you for such enthusiasm.

Cuthalion:  “For Frodo!”  Yes, what a powerful and wonderful scene.  Aragorn more than appreciates what Frodo and Sam accomplished, but even he may not realize everything they went through to achieve what they did.  The Fellowship will be learning many things on this journey.

Dreamflower:  I love how you summarize this:  “For instead of going to get *rid* of something, he is going to *recover* something--his memory of what happened.”  Exactly!  :D
Garnet Took:  Thank you!  I wish I could update even faster, but this is a challenging story to write.

Gentle Hobbit:  You’re absolutely right.  Many more folks than Frodo are about to learn (and experience) some very interesting and revealing things.

harrowcat:  Yes, I can’t imagine Aragorn that could have made any other choice than to accompany his brave friend, and help in any way he can.

lbilover:  I do love writing "Fellowship" stories -- pre- or post-Quest.  Finding such true and supportive friends in one's life is a rare and wonderful thing, and Frodo has certainly found them.

Lily:  I’m sure Frodo is more than a bit frightened of this journey... but his need to understand more clearly what happened to him overrides his fear.

Lily Baggins:  There will certainly be enough banter to keep the story from falling into utter Darkness!  I’m not sure I know how to write without it.  And I wonder if Alcaren realizes that we all want his job as “hobbit caretaker”!  What a lucky guy.

Linda Hoyland:  I'm glad you like 'my' Aragorn!  We'll be seeing a lot of him in this story.

Mysterious Jedi:  Fellowship and h/c... a combination I love, as well!

Niphrandl:  Yes, unfortunately Faramir has to stay behind.  You’re right, someone has to run the Kingdom when the King is away.

Queen Galadriel:  I’m very pleased that this story seems “original”.  As the years of fanfic go on, some of us worry that we’re repeating ourselves, or going over ground that others have already covered.  I’ve had the idea for this story in my head for a year, and am so glad to finally be writing it.

rabidsamfan:  Sam will be giving – and getting – comfort in this story.  And don’t worry – Frodo does realize that this will be a difficult journey for his friend.

SlightlyTookish:  Three cheers indeed for the Fellowship ‘reunited’. And I know there hasn’t been much Pippin yet, but... stay tuned for Chapter 4!

SurgicalSteel:  Sam does have some healing to do!  I’m still working out that part of the story.  And I always wondered what the Quest would have been like if the Fellowship (or most of it) had actually made it to Mordor -- or at least its borders -- together.  I’m looking forward to getting deeper into the story and exploring a lot of these issues.