Brief Author’s Notes: Book-based; OC centric. NOT a Mary Sue, NOT a fangirl-gets-zapped-into ME, NOT a happily-ever-after, and does NOT follow the books line-by-line with just a few comments thrown in. The first paragraph of Gollum speaking is taken from the book; everything else is original. Having said that, ENJOY! 🙂

Prologue: Justice Be Done

Frodo watched the waters of Ithilien’s Forbidden Pool running below him and momentarily saw something jump in that was much too large for a fish. He crawled down to the side of the pool and looked in at the object. Not for the first or last time on his journey, he was reminded of one of Bilbo’s proverbs. There are three kinds of people in this world, Frodo my lad: those who look after others, those who look after for everyone including themselves, and those who look after only themselves.

Gollum was certainly the latter, Frodo thought bitterly; all he cared about was his Precious and his daily food.

“Fissh, nice fissh,” he was saying. “White Face has vanished and now we can eat nice fissh in peace.” He looked upon the creature with both pity and disgust. Frodo approached closer, and what he heard next made his blood run cold. “No, not in peace, my Precious, for Precious is lost. Nasty Hobbits, gone and left us, only poor Sméagol all alone. Throttle them! Kill them all if we gets the chance. Nice fissh.”

He went on thus for a long time, but Frodo paid little attention; what he’d heard was quite enough to make his stomach churn. He turned away, a great conflict beginning within him. The huntsmen stood above with bent bows. He could still order them to shoot, and he would never have to worry about this treacherous creature again. But what would become of him and Sam then? To be lost in territory unknown to them without a guide was as good as giving up the Quest entirely. Yet, cries of Throttle them! echoed hauntingly in his mind. He did not know what kind of deception Gollum had in mind, whether he would kill him and Sam in their sleep or lead them on an unnecessarily long path to Mordor and take the Ring for himself in the process. Gollum’s constant mumblings about leading the Hobbits to a mysterious place in order to serve some hidden purpose of his own had not remained completely hidden to Frodo.

Slowly at first, then more quickly, he turned away form the pool, ascending to where Faramir stood waiting for a verdict. Frodo had neither the heart to order to shoot nor the heart to rescue this deceptive creature.

“Ah, Frodo, I see you have returned. But where is your companion? Is he following? I do not see him.”

Frodo struggled uncomfortably for a few moments before answering. “No, he is below, still. As I approached, I heard him speaking ill of all of us. He is bloodthirsty and would have no qualms about throttling all of us in our sleep. I grew unsure and afraid, and I had not the heart to rescue him. You have asked me to counsel you on this matter, Captain; but I fear that I am not fit to give you advice concerning Gollum.”

“I know too little of this creature to judge his character. But you say that he wishes to kill. That alone gives him an ill favor, whether he carries it through or not. We of Gondor are men of honor; we do not think highly of those who do not uphold that same standard.”

“Neither do I, sir,” Sam spoke up suddenly, blushing when both Faramir and Frodo looked at him. “That is, if you don’t mind me saying so. Begging your pardon, Mr. Frodo but I was just thinking: What good should it do to keep Gollum around?”

“I would be rid of him too, Sam. But if you say he has done no good, you forget both Emyn Muil and the Dead Marshes. We would have been lost long ago had it not been for Gollum. We do not know this other, more secret path to Mordor any better, and I fear we have yet to be lost if we–” here he suppressed a shudder – “ordered him dead.”

“When I asked you if I could aid you in any way on your journey, I was sincere, Frodo son of Drogo,” interjected Faramir. “If you shall rid yourself of this treacherous guide, then I shall provide for you a loyal one: one who is willing to go through the fires of the Nameless Land with you.”

“That is kind of you, Captain Faramir,” Frodo said with a deep bow. “May you be richly rewarded for your compassion. Yet, doubt still lingers in my mind. Is this just? Is it proper to put an end to a creature that has kept its promise to guide wherever needed?”

Sam half scoffed at the comment and looked as if he would say something, but he didn’t. Instead, Faramir spoke. “If you desire my counsel on this matter, I will give it, though I am not often wont to do so. But it is only counsel. The final decision is yours alone, Frodo. If it shall be between your life and his, then it must be his. For if your errand fails, then what hope is left? I must do that which is best for my fair City. I must do my part to see that this errand is accomplished. Your chances grow too slim, I think, as long as this Gollum is with you. Is it just? I say yes; for by merely entering the Forbidden Pool as a trespasser in our most secret waters, he is deserving of death, no matter how pitiable he might be.”

Frodo turned to glance at Sam. “You know what I think, Master. But whatever decision you make I will stand by it and by you.”

“Whatever your choice be, make haste!” Faramir said. “My men’s arms grow weary aiming a bow without loosing the arrow.”

Quite a few things happened in the next few moments. Frodo shouted, “Shoot, and let justice be done!” Faramir thrust forward a rigid hand into the blackness. There was the sound of many arrows swiftly flying through the air. A piercing final cry came from below, and was promptly muffled. Sam heaved a great sigh of relief, but Frodo sank to his knees in despair. “What have I done?” he cried out.

Faramir firmly laid his hands on Frodo’s shoulders. “You did what needed to be done. No, do not weep! It is over now, and you cannot change that which has passed. Come now, and get as much sleep as you may. In the morning, we shall discuss this new change of events, and what shall become of your Quest.”

Frodo sat for a few more moments in shock and grief. Sam sat next to him, waiting patiently. “It’s all right, Mr. Frodo. It’s all over now.”

“Yes, it’s done. It’s over.” Frodo suddenly got the feeling that he was waking from a rather queer dream. “But how shall I live with the guilt, Sam? I was responsible for his life, for good or no. And what if this leads to the demise of our Quest?”

“We shall not speak of that now. But Captain Faramir promised you he’d set things right. He’s turned out to be a true and noble man. I have no doubt that everything will turn out for the better.”
***
Needless to say, Frodo didn’t sleep well that night. Whenever he closed his eyes, images of Faramir thrusting his hand forward ran through his mind, and he heard the sound of his own voice, of merciless arrows, and of Gollum’s pitiful last cry.

He woke not two hours after he finally drifted into a fitful slumber. The dawn had not yet come. He heard soft voices talking several feet away. Rubbing his bleary eyes, he rose and saw Sam and Faramir turning to face him. Sam was beaming, and he looked more content than ever, as it seemed to Frodo.

“Mr. Frodo!” he cried. “Good morning, sir!”

“Frodo, it is good to see that you have risen,” Faramir said. “We are in haste, and we have much to discuss.” He sat at the head of the long dining table and motioned for the two Hobbits to do likewise. It was already furnished with wooden cups and plates set with fresh apples, cheese, and ham. “We must eat rather quickly. Afterwards, we will replenish your thinning packs with provisions. Then we should depart as soon as that is finished. The sooner we start out, the better it will be for everyone.

“I cannot spare any one of my men to go with you,” Faramir continued, “and not many would be truly willing to pass through the Nameless Land with you even if I commanded them to do so. We must make for Minas Tirith in search of your guide, who is to be someone who has studied ways into that Land. The City is not far off from your course – in total, it lies some twenty-five leagues from here. We must ride south towards the Crossroads, as you would have to do at any rate. We then turn west just north of Osgiliath, and a little further south and west lies Minas Tirith, the White City, Capital of Gondor. If we make haste, we can reach it ere the moon rises tonight. Some of my men will linger here, and others will hasten to strengthen Osgiliath; but a few will follow us to Minas Tirith, for war will come there swiftly from Minas Morgul. That, perhaps, shall be the end of Gondor as we know it, as Mithrandir prophesied.” He paused and gazed into the west towards his City. He continued as if to himself. “Alas that these evil days should be mine! Would that I lived in the days when Gondor was great and Minas Tirith was fair, and Osgiliath fairer. But one must do the best he can with the days that are granted him.”

Frodo heard the last comment and nodded thoughtfully. “You speak truly, Captain,” he said. “And I must do my best to follow the path that I have chosen. Would I revoke last night’s decision knowing what I know now? I cannot say, but it is not for me to judge what I should have done or what could have been. I feel that, if Minas Tirith is as close as you say, it is best to search there for another guide, and then make for Mordor by dawn tomorrow. Let us prepare to leave now!”

Their packs were promptly replenished with provisions, and seemingly out of nowhere, four horses were produced, bridled, and saddled. The caves of Henneth Annûn did not seem like proper places to keep horses, but Frodo and Sam did not know all of the hidden ways of that place; obviously, there was some sort of hidden spot that served as a stable. Frodo rode with Faramir on his horse; Sam rode with Anborn on another.
***
The sun was just beginning to cast a red glow on the horizon when Frodo and Sam gazed in wonder at the City of Minas Tirith for the first time. It was majestic, one of the makings of Gondor’s people of old, when the land was at the height of its great Empire. Its turrets tall and proud were dexterously crafted in fine stone, and intricately chiseled with fine details. Seven tiers the City had, the highest one containing a white tree in a courtyard of stone.

They dismounted at the gate. Though Faramir chose to enter the City through a side gate, men looked upon him and his small company with joy and cried, “Lord Faramir! The Lord Faramir has returned!” Some asked him to tell tales of where he had been and why he carried with him two Halflings. But Faramir answered, “Peace, friends! I am in haste, and I have an errand to run that will not wait. My tales can wait for some other time.”

He turned aside to Anborn. “I have decided who it is that our friends will follow. Do you recall Tallah?”

The mention of the name made Anborn’s eyes flash. “Surely I do, Lord. But I cannot say that she will make a better guide than the creature they are now rid of. She answers to no one. And how shall she guide them through the Nameless Land if she cannot fight?”

“Despair not!” Faramir replied. “You do not know her as well as I. She answers to me. And she is stiff-necked, but not one to throttle people in their sleep, as Gollum would have undoubtedly done to these poor Halflings. She needs not to know how to fight; this errand is to be done in secrecy rather than by force. Will you not go to her? She dwells in one of the first houses on the third level.”

Anborn, apparently convinced that this was his Lord’s will, bowed low. “As my Lord wishes.” He turned to go.

“Tell her to prepare for a long journey, and quickly, for I am in haste!”
***
Some time later, Anborn returned with another who walked beside him. She was hard to place, for she was little more than a head taller than Frodo and too large for a Halfling, yet the tall men of Gondor towered over her. She walked with an almost militaristic gait, as one that does not wander without aim. She wore loose robes that completely concealed her frame. Her unruly pale brown hair was tied back with a cord, and she had an almost feral look in her eyes, which were nearly the shade of her hair. Her face was not entirely devoid of beauty, but it was as one chiseled of stone, beset with years of care, cold and stern and proud. She looked as if she never smiled.

Frodo wondered that they should be led into Mordor by any kind of woman; still more, he marveled that it should be this one, if at all she was a full-blooded human. She certainly did not appear to be one of the hardy Gondorian women.

“What does my Lord command?” she asked, eyes fixed on Faramir with only a half-curious sidelong glance at the two Hobbits. “Surely, my Lord would not cast me away from my City that I hold dear, although every soul in Bree begged him to do so?”

Faramir’s gaze softened, and he spoke in a hushed tone, when he was sure that there were no overly curious onlookers. “Surely not; for you misinterpret this scene. These are two Halflings that have come in search for a guide, but not to search you out in particular. You are to lead these two into the Nameless Land in secrecy. Tell no one that this task has been assigned to you. Neither shall you question the purpose of these two Halflings. Make haste in leaving the City; this is a thing that must be done, and soon. Avoid the ruins of Osgiliath at all costs. The Enemy will strike there even ere this City, for it lies directly on the River Anduin,”

“Mordor!” the woman exclaimed in a frightened tone, and it seemed to them that all that the earth shook for a few brief moments.

“Do not utter that name here!” Faramir commanded sternly.

“It is one thing to simply say the name; it is another to actually enter into that land. I am your loyal servant, but this is folly. Not for all the riches in the world should one be forced to do this,” she replied.

“What other choice do you have? For we have foreseen war coming to Minas Tirith, and now it will arrive in a matter of days. Where then will you turn when this City is besieged?”

Tallah broke eye contact and looked at the floor. When she spoke, it was as if to herself. “I know not. But it seems I would be forced to flee for my life at any rate. Better to leave before the first signs of siege than to try to escape moments before it.” She turned again to the Lord Faramir, her eyes resolute. “I will do as my Lord wishes!”

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