THE THREE TOWERS

Chapter 4 – The Tower of the Moon

“A little path leading up into the mountains; and then a stair, a narrow stair.  O yes, very long and narrow.  And then more stairs.  And then” – his voice sank even lower – “a tunnel; and at last a little cleft, and a path high above the main pass.”  ‘The Black Gate is Closed’, The Two Towers

**

May 29

I have to look.  I must.  With an effort, Frodo raised his eyes.  Minas Morgul, the city of the Ringwraiths, loomed before them.

Aragorn and Alcaren dismounted in silence, and walked to the edge of the road.  The bridge to Minas Morgul was broken, and no sound or movement could be discerned from the empty city.

“This...” Alcaren whispered, “...is what became of Minas Ithil?  This?”  He stared in horror and anger at the ruined city, tears falling unheeded from his eyes.  “My lord, what will you order done here?  Will Minas Ithil be rebuilt?”

“No, Alcaren,” Aragorn said softly.  He lay a comforting hand on the Man’s shoulder.  “Those who dwelt here were the Dark Lord’s foulest servants, the Nazgûl.  The city cannot be cleansed, but must be dismantled.  Perhaps someday...” He left the thought unspoken, as both Men mourned the devastation of what legend told had been a fair and noble city, marble walls once proudly gleaming and bright moonlight shining through its tower.

“Aragorn,” Frodo said hesitantly from his perch on Brego’s back, “we’re not camping here, are we?”

“No, Frodo,” Aragorn assured him, and the others.  “We will travel a bit further east toward the guardtower, but halt our journey today before reaching it.  We will search for a wide enough area that will serve as a campsite.”

“I’m afraid Sam and I won’t be any help in pointing one out,” Frodo sighed.  “This area is where we left the road.”

“We left it... there,” Sam said, pointing to the gap on the northern side of the road.  Everyone’s eyes followed his finger, as he traced a path up the cliff.

“You climbed that high?” Merry asked, amazed.

“We were so tired, even before we started to climb,” Frodo said quietly.  “And once up there... it was as if time itself ceased to exist inside the tunnel.  It was darker than Moria.”    He reached into his vest pocket where he kept the Phial of Galadriel, and was relieved to feel its gentle light pulse through his fingers

“Aye, it was,” Sam agreed.  He was torn between begging Frodo to turn back and not continue pursuing these dark memories, and trying to understand his master’s need to remember what he could.

“Is that... spider-thing still alive?” Pippin asked.

“It better not be,” Sam declared, his hand unconsciously clutching Sting’s hilt.

“Someday we will seal that tunnel and all ways in or out,” Aragorn said firmly.  “To the extent of my powers, no threat or embodiment of evil from this area will be allowed to haunt the lives -- or dreams -- of my people.”  He and Alcaren remounted their horses, and everyone took one last look at the ruined city.

“This is where it all started,” Frodo murmured.  The others strained to hear his soft voice.  “Faramir had told us about Boromir... All I could think of was, what had happened to the rest of you?  There was no way to know, only that it was likely that most of you had also been slain.”  He closed his eyes and pressed back against Aragorn, who wrapped his arms around the small one seated in front of him.  “The Ring wanted me to bring It to this city.  Sam and Sméagol stopped me, and we hid. We saw... from up on the cliff, we saw the army set out.  So many of them!  How could there be any hope left for any of you who were left?”

“Mr. Frodo,” Sam warned. “Please, sir, you don’t need to---”

“But I do need to, Sam,” Frodo whispered.  He opened his eyes, but his voice was still quiet, dreamlike -- and Aragorn could feel him trembling.  “The Wraith King knew I was here... that the Ring was somewhere near... I felt it.  He felt it.  But they moved on, and we... climbed.  So many stairs, but we did it.”  His eyes roamed the cliff-face.  “It took so long, I wonder if the stairs went seven or eight miles before reaching... the tunnel.”

Sam nodded in agreement.  “It might have been that far, at that.”

“Oh Sam, without you, I don’t know how I would have made it through that darkness.”  Frodo took a deep breath, and Aragorn could feel his heart pounding wildly.  “After Sméagol left us... even when the eyes were chasing us... I was still myself.  I knew what I had to do.  But then at last I was running, and something hit me, and...”  He shook his head.  “That’s when everything gets blurred.  I want to remember.”

“We’ll help you, Frodo, if we can,” Pippin said, tears running down his face.

Merry, astride Stybba, had gone very pale, thinking about what Frodo and Sam had endured even before their encounter with the creature Sam had heard the Orcs call ‘Shelob’.

“How far is there yet to go before we reach the tower?” Merry asked.

“Perhaps 20 miles,” Aragorn replied.  “We will arrive tomorrow morning.”

That tunnel might span 12 of those miles, then, Merry thought, going back over everything Frodo had said.  His cousin and Sam had walked in foul air, abandoned by Gollum, afraid and hungry – in total darkness – for twelve miles.  He looked at Aragorn, his eyes brimming with tears.  “Let’s get away from this place,” he urged.

“Are you ready to move on, Frodo?” Gandalf asked.

Frodo nodded, then suddenly fumbled for the water bottle tied to Brego’s saddlebag, and drank it dry.  One of the nearby Men hurried over to refill the Ringbearer’s bottle with fresh water.

“Thank you,” Frodo said with a tremulous smile.  “I’m not even that thirsty, but seem to need to keep drinking.  It makes no sense that I feel so desperate about keeping a full bottle near me.”

“On the contrary, it makes perfect sense,” Legolas spoke.  “Your body remembers the thirst, and you need to assure yourself that water is at hand.”

Aragorn and Gandalf exchanged a glance, and quick-eyed Merry saw that they both looked grave.  Frodo’s body was beginning to exhibit symptoms of re-living what it had endured on the original journey through Cirith Ungol.  Thirst -- real or imagined -- was just the first, and most minor of what he would no doubt experience.  If full memories should return of the spider’s bite, the sickness brought on by the poison coursing through his small body, the interrogation, humiliation, the terrible aloneness, the knowledge that the Ring had been taken, and with it, all hope...

“Merry,” Pippin whispered as Shadowfax drew abreast of Stybba, “Frodo will have us with him, this time.  It’ll be all right.”

“I know,” Merry whispered back, trying to believe it.

Frodo was very quiet as they rode eastward, and remained so even when a suitable campsite was found within a wide shelter of rocks north of the road.  Everyone was aware that he had been shaken by the sight of Minas Morgul, and that the realization that they would arrive at the Orcs' tower the next day lay heavily upon him.  Something had to be done, and as fires were lit and the company settled down to prepare and eat supper, Pippin decided that he was the one to do it.

*~*~*~*~*

“Where do you come up with these questions?” Frodo asked in amusement.

“The only important question is, how long is a certain cousin going to take to answer?” Pippin asked, digging into his plate of stew.  Well?” he asked Merry.  “You’ve had enough time to think, you lazy Brandybuck.”

“I know!” Merry said triumphantly, relieved to have thought of something.  “They’re both older than they look.”

“Sam?  Your turn,” said Pippin.

“They’ve both lost their parents,” Sam said a bit sadly.

“They were both born in Eriador,” Gandalf offered.

Legolas and Alcaren exchanged amused glances.  The game that Pippin had announced as a diverting bit of evening conversation, “What do Frodo and Strider have in common?” was turning out to be quite educational.  Alcaren, unused to a ruler who laughed and joked as did King Elessar, sat quietly listening, amazed and delighted with the conversation.

“I have one, too,” Pippin announced.  “Broken swords.”  He grinned.  “Frodo’s broke at... at the Ford, and Strider had his fixed up in Rivendell.”

“Re-forged, Peregrin,” Merry said, “not ‘fixed up’.”

“Same thing,” Pippin said airily.

“We’re practically related, Aragorn,” Frodo grinned with delight.

“How about you, Legolas?” Pippin asked hopefully.

“Let me see...” the Elf said thoughtfully.  “Ah, I have it!  Both our noble hobbit and esteemed King have travelled under surreptitious names.  ‘Underhill’, was it?  And...” Legolas laughed.  “How many names have you travelled under, Aragorn?”

“More than there are stars in the sky,” Gandalf said.  He sat smoking contentedly.  “Frodo, you and Aragorn do, indeed, have much in common.”  He winked at the young Took.  “Well done, Pippin.”

Pippin beamed at the wizard’s praise.

Frodo saw Sam gazing up at the cliff-face which concealed the long, dark passage he and his master had survived. 

“I know you don’t want to be here, Sam,” Frodo said softly.  “Neither do I; but there’s something I have to do before the end.”  He smiled.  “Remember when you said that, back in the Shire?”

“Now don’t go usin’ my own words against me, Mr. Frodo,” Sam said.  “I’m just glad you didn’t go sneakin’ off without us.  If you can do this, sir, so can I.”

“All of you show great courage and spirit,” Alcaren smiled at the four hobbits.

“It’s all Gandalf’s fault,” Frodo told him, casting a mischievous glance at the wizard.  “Hobbits were living perfectly uneventful lives before he pushed my cousin Bilbo out the door on his Adventure with the Dwarves.  Bilbo then surprised himself by facing trolls and spiders, and had the courage to enter a dragon’s cave more than once, when he knew exactly what was waiting for him there.  And he was the only one at the Council to volunteer to take the Ring.”

“Except for you.”  Pippin looked proudly at his cousin.

Merry took up the story.  “And growing up hearing Bilbo’s tales, is it any wonder that Gandalf was able to talk one – or more – of us into another Adventure?”

“I hardly think--” Gandalf protested.

“Besides, most of my cousins are quite mad, Alcaren,” Merry continued.  “It makes for an interesting family.”

“Now wait just a minute,” Pippin spluttered, as Frodo and Sam nearly fell over with laughter.

As the camp prepared for sleep, Aragorn was delighted to hear Frodo continuing to joke with his cousins, his grim mood from earlier in the day temporarily eased.  Gandalf and Legolas joined him at the edge of camp.

“Frodo’s spirit is bright once more,” Legolas observed quietly.  “Pippin and Merry work very hard to distract him – and Sam – from dark thoughts.”

“Yes, they do,” Aragorn agreed.  “The Men are lighter of heart now than before, as well.  Bless those young hobbits.”

“They’re scamps, every one of them,” Gandalf chuckled.

“Yes, imagine blaming you for everything,” Aragorn grinned.  “Whatever were they thinking?”

** TBC **

Andrea:  Gimli definitely feels that he has some unfinished business at the Orcs’ tower.  He’s a tough, uncompromising warrior, but his love for the hobbits always shines through.

Anonymous:  “Resolving unfinished business” is exactly what this story is about... for many of them.

Baggins Babe:  I found myself thinking quite a lot about Gimli for this story, and all the ways this journey would be meaningful for him.

Bodkin:  Frodo and his companions have certainly never backed down from any challenge, and it’s very meaningful to see things through together -- as much as possible.

Claudia:  Thank you so much.  The story will soon definitely turn to the more 'angsty' side, but... hobbits will be hobbits.  And I love surrounding them with Big Folk -- as protectors, or maybe just as friends.

Dreamflower:  I’m so happy you feel the characters are “in character”!  I’m trying to become a little more courageous in my writing.  And as the next chapter will show, Frodo really is being helped to understand the difference he’s made.

Garnet Took:  We’re starting to see just what Merry and Pippin’s presence means to Frodo, and to everyone else.  As Legolas and Aragorn observe in this chapter, they’re continually aware of the mood of their cousin – and the entire camp – and work unceasingly to bring a smile to everyone’s face.

harrowcat:  Aragorn (and I) just didn’t think it was necessary for the hobbits to see any more Orc corpses lying about – they’d seen enough of them already on this Quest!

Larner:  Frodo is certainly surrounded by love and support.  I think it would be very satisfying for his friends to finally see him "there and back again" to Mordor (or at least the edge of it), as they always planned to.

lbilover:  It was interesting for the Professor to include the king’s fallen and desecrated statue in TTT – a short, meaningful little scene that gave Frodo a moment of hope.  I just had to revisit it, and let Frodo see that the healing of the land has begun.

Lily:  This story certainly isn’t my usual fluff, but I’m very happy you’re enjoying it.

periantari:  I guarantee that Sam and his thoughts/fears will be woven throughout this story.  Eeeee, thumbs up!  Thank you.

Queen Galadriel:  Frodo is doing his very best to “hold in his fear” – with a little help from his friends.

rabidsamfan:  What a shame there was so little singing in the movies – the books were full of song and verse, and I would love to hear an Elf with his voice raised in song.

SlightlyTookish:  Can you imagine a common workman (or lonely scout or Ranger) seeing this procession?  What a rare treat for them.

SurgicalSteel:  Oooh, ‘soul-wounds’... I like that phrase a lot.  Yes, although the story is primarily about Frodo, he’s certainly not the only one finding this to be an interesting journey.