Date: Sat, 15 May 2004 19:22:33 -0700 (PDT)
From: Silven Fox <silvenfox@yahoo.com>
Subject: Destiny of an Earth - 26

Disclaimer: I don't know Nsync. I don't know Justin Timberlake in real
life. Also this story is in no way meant to imply that he is homosexual in
real life. This piece of literature is simply the work of a fan and is pure
fiction.

I don't own The Lord of the Rings or any other works of the series. The
rights of the series goes solely to the series author J.R.R. Tolkien.


Now that's out of the way. This story appeared in my head when I was
trapped in the car with my relatives for a 24-hour road trip. I was really,
really bored! I shudder just thinking about that trip. Anyway, if your
below legal age to read this where your from, then all I can tell you is
stop and don't let your parents catch you. He he that's not much of a
warning, but hey what else can I do.

For those of you who would like to join, I've started a new Yahoo! Group
http://groups.yahoo.com/group/TonyJustiss there you can talk about this
story and any others that I've written like The Trinity or Love is
Universal. If you want to send me an email you can reach me at
silvenfox@yahoo.com.


Chapter 26


Two days Justin spent reading the books Gandalf gave him. He immersed
himself in the history of Middle Earth and its people. The sun was still
hidden behind a cloud of gray. The light outside was pale and Justin was
reading outside the gleaming, White Tower of the city. The courtyard was
beautiful with its green grass and majestic fountain that stood in the
middle of the court. The White Tree of Gondor, dead to the world drooped
lifelessly over the edge of the fountain. The stone bench Justin sat on
was uncomfortable but he barely noticed he was so caught up in the books.
Hence the reason he jumped when a hand laid itself on his shoulder.

"It is time."

Justin looked up into Gandalf's solemn face. "Already?"

Gandalf nodded, leaning upon his tall staff. "Faramir is still fighting
and his men are losing numbers fast. A cavalry of mounted men must be
made ready to fight. I will lead them and you will be at my side for
soon the battle will be taken from Osgiliath to outside on the Pelennor
Fields."

Justin felt a sense of responsibility come over him at the wise man's
words. He closed the book he was reading handing it to Gandalf. "These
books were a big help, Gandalf. Thanks."

"Your welcome, young one. I hope the knowledge you have gained will help
you in the battle to come. This fight will be but a skirmish compared to
the full battle I see in the future."

'What a pep talk,' Justin thought inwardly rolling his eyes. He stood
up and followed the elder Wizard to the stables where their horses were
kept. Inside Justin was a ball of knots but outside he was the picture
of composure. They entered the stable and Justin smiled seeing
Lightwings standing beside the silver coated Shadowfax.

"Are you ready?" asked Gandalf.

Justin grabbed the hilt of his sword at his side and wiggled his shoe
feeling the dagger concealed within. He let out a deep breath, giving
Gandalf a shaky smile.

"Ready as I'll ever be."

They mounted the horses and with haste they made their way down the street.
At a gallop they came to the first circle of the city, where lay the great
gate of Minas Tirith. Already men were gathered on horseback awaited them.
Their fear filled faces struck something within Justin's heart. The
soldiers back at Helm's Deep had looked the same way before the battle
there. The odds were against them in that battle also, but they had won.
Could they pull another miracle here. From the look in Gandalf's eyes
Justin wasn't so sure that it would happen this time.

"What about the Rohirrim? They are still coming right?" Justin whispered
to Gandalf as they steered their horses to the front of the loose formation
of horseback soldiers.

Gandalf shifted his grip on his staff and adjusted his hold on Shadowfax's
mane before turning to Justin. "Theoden and his men will still come, but
not before many men's blood is shed."

The great gate of the city opened before them, not all the way but enough
for riders to go through one at a time. This was to be a secret and the
enemy couldn't know what they were up to. Gandalf turned Shadowfax around
so that he could look into the faces of the soldiers. He made his voice
loud so that even those furthest away could hear him.

"We will wait in the shadows of the Gate, under the walls of the city. It
is crucial that the enemy not know we are there. For they do not know we
have a sortie ready to counterattack. When the signal from Lord Denethor
comes will we attack. Remember, only when we get the signal!"

There was a chorus of agreement and then they followed one by one through
the Great Gate. Justin sucked in a breath as he steered Lightwings through
gap. Seeing the destruction and death close up was different from seeing it
from the top of the walls. Many Orcs, Goblins, Trolls, and wild men of the
South raged across the Pelennor fields engaging the Gondorian soldiers in
battle. And this was just the beginning. The real enemy's force hadn't even
arrived yet. These were the ones that Faramir failed to stop at Osgiliath.
Justin shuddered along with the other horseback warriors waiting in the
shadows. Justin narrowed his eyes and his vision magnified. Less than two
miles away he could make out the rearguard of Faramir's forces retreating
the enemy driving them back towards the walls of the city. The enemy, some
riding horses, others wargs, shot flaming arrows at their retreating backs.
They were a line of fire with their flaming torches. Then suddenly those
retreating ordered together into a formation, not running, but marching
back into battle. The men around Justin laughed and silently cheered.

"That must be Faramir," one soldier beside Justin murmured.

Gandalf smiled seeing the formation. "It must be. The Steward's son can
govern man and beast. Perhaps there is hope yet."

The fighting men were overwhelmed for there was an echo of fierce cries.
The horsemen of the enemy swept up like a wave. The lines of fire became
a flowing horizontal line of flames, for the Orcs ordered together into
files. Files upon files of Orcs bearing flames and the wild men of the
South with their growling harsh voices swept up overtaking the retreating
human soldiers. Multiple, piercing cries were heard from the air, as the
fell beast of the Nazgūl swooped down from the sky to kill any of the
missed men.

"The Nazgūl!" cried a soldier near Gandalf.

The White Wizard rounded on him immediately and told him harshly: "Quiet,
you fool!"

The Nazgūl invoked a fear in the retreating soldiers like no other. They
fled the battle wild and thoughtless. They flung their weapons without
care, crying out fearfully, falling to the ground in terror. A feeling of
anger flowed through Justin. Quickly he unsheathed the Dawnbringer and
surged forward intent on helping, but a hand holding his arm stopped him
from moving further.

Gandalf leveled him with an understanding look. "Now is not the time. Only
when the signal comes."

Justin managed a curt nod, his eyes not leaving those dying on the fields.
Unconsciously he gripped the handle of his longsword tighter in his hand
anger and helplessness coursing within him. How could Denethor still have
them wait after seeing how needlessly his men were dying. Couldn't the
Steward see them upon his view in the Citadel high above in the top part of
the city? If he didn't want to send them out, surely Pippin who was with
the Steward would make him see reason. Fuck it, Justin wasn't waiting
anymore. He had enough sitting back and watching.

And then as Justin kicked Lightwings forward, a trumpet rang from the
Citadel, and Denethor at last released the cavalry. At last, it was their
time. Within the shadow of the Gate, under the gigantic white walls of the
city the formed men galloped forward charging with a resounding shot of
attack. Quickly they raced to the soldiers' aide riding through either side
of their retreat attacking the lines of the enemy. Gandalf outran them all.
On Shadowfax's back he was a streak of white. Lightwings carried Justin
running hard almost as fast as Shadowfax, lord of all horses. Gandalf
raised his hand and Justin copied him, and then simultaneously light
stabbed upwards from their hands.

The Nazgūl screeched like banshees then sharply broke off flying away.
Their captain, King Angmar long ago, now Lord of the Nazgūl was not ready
to face two powerful Wizards. Unknown to Justin, his eyes glowed bright
blue, visible electric currents crackling in both eyes. Whistling as it
sliced through air; the Dawnbringer cut through Orc after Orc that came
near Justin path. He galloped through enemies cutting down all. With a yell
he stabbed his sword through the gut of a goblin and with his other hand he
raised it to the face of a wild men form the South.

"Die!"

A crackling bolt of lightning starting from his palm striking the creature
in the face. It stood no chance of surviving a hit that close range. It
fell to the ground charred and shaking, nerves still reacting to the
electric shock to its system. Eyes blazing, Justin made mincemeat to the
dark creatures. Flinging forward his hand he whispered, "Burn" and a whole
line of dark creatures instantly started screaming, as blue flames sprung
up consuming their bodies.

The host of Mordor was not prepared for the cavalry. They scattered and ran
back across the Pelennor fear filling their hearts. The retreat turned
around and became their pursuers. Once hunted they now were the hunted,
chasing back their attackers. The battlefield was filled with the bodies of
Ocrs and Men alike, torches thrown asunder, discarded weapons strewn all
around. The cavalry rode forward with the rest of Faramir's men chasing
back the Dark Host. But they were not permitted to go very far for their
mission was to drive the enemy back. This was not the main battle; still
there were more forces that were on their way flowing out of Mordor in the
east. The trumpet sounded again and the company of Gondor halted.

Justin slowed Lightwings to a stop then looked to Gandalf who was nearby.
"Are we going back?"

"For the time being," answered Gandalf, navigating Shadowfax closer to
Justin. The wizard looked to the ground spying an injured soldier lying
near Justin. His eyes registered surprise and recognition as he barely
managed an "Oh, no," before jumping down from his horse running towards the
fallen person.

Justin jumped from his horse coming up on the kneeling Gandalf's side.
He looked over the Wizard's shoulder gasping in shock at seeing the person
lying on the ground. It was Faramir, Boromir's younger brother, lying
wounded with two arrows sticking out from his chest.

Justin knelt beside Gandalf looking into the Wizard's grave face he asked:
"Is he going to make it?"

Gandalf gave the wounds a long look over. "My knowledge is not in the arts
of healing. His wounds are beyond me. If we rush him to the Houses of
Healing then perhaps he may have a chance yet."

Soldiers under the bidding of Gandalf rushed forward and helped the wounded
lord up onto Shadowfax. Gandalf climbed too on the horse holding the
unconscious Faramir in his arms. The company rode back to the gates of the
city and entered, proudly. The people of the city looked on proud of their
conquering men but they were saddened in heart for only a third of
Faramir's men returned with the cavalry. Personally, Gandalf and Justin
took Faramir up to the White Tower. Denethor's face lost all color seeing
his son being carried in the arms of two guards.

"Faramir!"

Pippin stood dressed in his armor minus a helmet, stock still beside
Denethor's chair, frozen with shock. The Steward raced forward, black
robes flying behind him. Running a shaking hand down his son's face he
sadly looked to Gandalf.

"Is my son dead, Mithrandir?"

Gandalf leaning upon his staff shook his head. "No, not dead. But he needs
a healer to tend to his wounds."

"I've seen Xena take many arrow wounds and still live," Justin offered,
feeling dumb when the comment left his lips. His mouth always had a way
of spewing forth words without his consent.

Gandalf raised a bushy eyebrow. "Xena?"

Justin smiled meekly. "The Warrior Princess..."

				   *  *  *

The Grey Company swarmed the Great Sea in Pelagir and easily captured the
pirate fleet of Umbar with the aide of the Shadow Host that Aragorn had at
his call. There were fifty huge, black ships and numerous smaller vessels
that were beyond count. This was what they had been looking for. The
quickest way to Minas Tirith would be to sail down the river. With luck
they would arrive before the city was burned to the ground. Aragorn sent
one of the Dśnedain to each great ship and the biggest he took for himself
with Legolas, Boromir, and Gimli accompanying him. It was night as Legolas
stood on the bow of the ship looking out upon the Sea.

He thought back to earlier when they first came upon the Sea and he heard
the wailing of the Gulls echoing in the air. Oh, what feelings they stirred
in him.

'If only I had listened to Mithrandir,' he thought, watching the waves of
water roll lazily upon one another.

Back when they had reunited with Gandalf in the forest of Fangorn, the old
wizard had taken the Elf aside giving Legolas a message. Before coming to
Fangorn, Gandalf had journeyed through Lothlorien where he had conference
with the Lady of Light, Galadriel. In her wisdom and gift of foresight she
saw a part of the future. A message she gave Gandalf to give to the Prince
of Mirkwood.

'For the Prince of Mirkwood a message. Beware the call of the Sea.'

How Legolas wished that he had heeded her warning, now the cry of the Gulls
wouldn't leave his head. When he had first heard the Gulls he had stopped,
forgetting everything around him. Middle Earth, the battle, the
Fellowship...

Only the thought of Justin snapped him from his thoughts. Deep within the
heart of all Elves lies the longing to go the Sea, sail across it and join
their kindred in Valinor, where the land is always green and things do not
die. Now the Sea Longing was in his heart and it wouldn't go away. He could
feel it within his spirit that he never would truly be happy again living
under the trees of Middle Earth.

The Sea called to his spirit...

His heart however longed for Justin and he wouldn't leave Middle Earth
without his heart...

                             *  *  *

"What the fuck?!"

Justin watched the forces of Mordor finally arrive. And arrive they did. In
numbers that he never even dreamed of. Brigades of Orcs bred in Mordor and
Men the like any have ever seen, short, broad and bearded like Dwarves,
marched across the Pelennor. Ever more they came from the East in
uncountable companies.

They didn't however attack the city's wall when arriving. The main wall of
the city was built of great height and nothing, steel nor fire could break
it. For the wall was made the same as the tower of Orthanc in Isengard.
Built in the days long ago, when the race of Man was good at great crafts
and skills before waning, the indomitable wall stood tall. The Orcs knew
all of this and they went to work setting up great, wooden catapults.
Catapults that shot missiles right over the tall battlements into the first
circle of the city. When the missiles hit the ground they, somehow unknown,
burst into flame. Soon the whole first circle was aflame and any that could
be spared were busy putting out the flames. Past the fires the Orcs shot
more missiles, these round and less ruinous. These were meant to invoke
fear, sorrow, and pain.

The Orcs were catapulting the heads of the dead men who died in Osgiliath.

When people saw the heads they wept and cried out in despair. Little by
little the fight began to leave them.

For all the while they cried out: 'Where are the Rohirrim? Will they come?'

The Nazgūl were back and it seemed that now they were showing just how
powerful their lord was. They derived their power from the Dark Lord and as
his power was showing forth their voices which invoked terror grew louder
and fiercer. Now and again they swooped down from the black clouds of the
night their fell beast they rode on wailing like demons straight from the
fiery pits of Hell. Justin was busy himself, defending the people from the
flying menaces. He shot blinding, white light from his hands into the air
staving off their fear provoked attacks.

Gandalf would have helped but he was busy leading the men to arms. Denethor
couldn't do it for he was sick with grief. Faramir was with fever and
between life and death, Denethor blaming himself shut out everything and
everyone. The city was not even a care to him while he lay at his son's
side. So it was up to the White Wizard to take charge, giving the men
orders and battle tactics. He went all around the city, from the top of the
Citadel down to the Gates of the City. Where he went the hearts of men
lifted, forgetting the cry's of the Nazgūl. They lifted their weapons and
fought anew. The fight continued on all day and night, the men of Gondor
had their own catapults also and they put them to use. Chucking across the
battlements huge slabs of stone at their enemies they crushed many of their
number. On it went the siege towers the enemy had ready were burned to the
ground when used, for they were ready for any Orcs that tried to climb the
huge wall.

Justin stood his ground near the Gate of the City, shooting light into the
dark sky keeping the Nazgūl away. The strongest garrison they had was
holding down the Gate. The Orcs knowing that the wall of the city was
impenetrable decided to focus their entrance on the weakest part. The Gate
of the City. On their side they had a huge battering ram made of steel and
other metals, forged deep in the pits of Mordor. The Gate shook in its
setting from the force of the blows dealt against it for it was made of
iron and its post was of steel. Drums rolled on among the Orcs uncounted.

Then there was silence.

Justin stopped his gazing upwards for the Nazgūl surprised at the silence.
He gazed at the great gate feeling a sense of uneasiness grip him suddenly.
Something in his spider sense was telling him that evil was afoot on the
other side. Suddenly in the air a deep, terrifying voice rang chanting in
tongue that Justin couldn't translate. The language was rough and harsh
sounding to his ears. He wouldn't be surprised if they were bleeding now.
Three times the voice rang out and each time the ram on the other side
hammered against the gate. Then on the third and final time the hammer
hit...

The Gate of Gondor broke.

There was a flash of light and rumbling like thunder and the Gate that had
held for so long fell to the ground and pieces of iron and steel. Justin
stepped backward hand going to his head for it was pounding at the sense of
evil radiating in the air. Justin blocked off the feeling, sealing and
shutting it off. A hush fell over the soldiers of Gondor suddenly for on a
tall, jet-black horse rode in the Black Captain, the Lord of the Nazgūl.

He was wearing a black cloak and underneath was blacker than midnight
armor. Under the archway with the fires in the background he looked a
figure of hell itself come to take them away. The men gave shouts of fear
and fled their post, none able to fully gaze upon the Lord of the Nazgūl.
All saved Justin, who stood in front of the Black Rider defiantly glaring
up into his hooded face.

"Fool!" cried the Lord of the Nazgūl. "Do you think you can stand up
against me! I will be the death of you!"

Faster than the most skilled warriors, Justin drew his sword and raised it
to the Rider. "Then bring it, asswipe!"

The Black Rider threw back his hood and underneath was helmet in a crown
theme. In the places where there should have been flesh, Justin only saw
flames, bright and smoldering. The Black Rider laughed at Justin then spoke
some words in a Black Tongue.

Gritting his teeth and steeling his heart Justin fought off the effect the
Black Rider had over him with his spell. Holding the Dawnbringer forth he
cocked his head and asked mockingly, "That's cute. You're trying to ask me
on a date."

The Black Captain was not happy with Justin's mockery. Shouting more Black
Words that rumbled with power he raised his hand. A jet-black beam of light
shot forth racing through the air. Justin almost closed his eyes but he
held his ground and the beam of light struck the Dawnbringer. The light hit
the sword then repelled off flying off into the sky. Amazed Justin and the
Witch King stared at the sword.

'Might as well go with it,' Justin thought, smiling coldly at the Black
Rider. "You shall not enter this city as long I draw breath." The
Dawnbringer's blade began to glow a pale gold. "I'll fight you off by
myself if I have to." Brighter it glowed shining in the darkness. "I don't
care what it takes, but YOU. WONT. PASS!"

There was a flash from the sword Justin just not realizing what was
happening gazed dumb struck at the blade. The writing inscribed on the
blade stood out on the shining surface.

In Elvish letters it said: 'In worthy's hands, light shall come to defend.'

With a start Justin remembered what Gandalf told him when he first saw the
sword... 'The sword is very powerful. In a time of great need its power
will come to you.'

Involuntarily, Justin raised his sword heavenward and the sword shined ever
brighter. Suddenly, there was a bright flash then a column of intense
golden light shot into the sky. The light raced through the sky impacting
the dark clouds circling over the land. All around in the city, across the
Pelennor, from miles around everyone could see the light. Slowly a hole
appeared in the clouds that quickly grew wider and wider. Somewhere in the
city, in some courtyard a rooster crowed. Its crow was loud and piercing
sounding clear across the battlefield. The light in the sky shot back down
into Justin's sword. The sword now that its job was done no longer glowed.

It had done as it was named for... It brought what the rooster crowed
for...

It brought the Dawn.

Out of nowhere, Gandalf appeared on the back of Shadowfax. Staff out and
face hardened, glaring he stared down the Lord of the Nazgūl. "The dawn is
upon us! Light has come so go back to the abyss prepared for you! Go back!
Fall into the nothingness that awaits you and your Master. Go!"

Then as if in answer a horn sounded. From somewhere it came again, horn
after horn. Blowing with no sense of order only to announce a presence.
Justin had a thing for remembering notes. A reason he was so good at music.
These notes he heard before. At Helm's Deep. Grinning with relief he looked
out past the Black Rider into the fields. Up on the hills, riders upon
riders appeared. King Theoden and the Rohirrim had finally arrived. And
Justin could only think of one thing to say at the time.

"Well, it's about fucking time."

*****************************************************
To read the next chapter, go and join my Yahoo! Group. Chapter 27 is
already posted.

For those of you who would like to join, I've started a new Yahoo! Group
http://groups.yahoo.com/group/TonyJustiss there you can talk about this
story and any others that I've written like The Trinity or Love is
Universal. If you want to send me an email you can reach me at
silvenfox@yahoo.com.