Date: Fri, 24 Sep 2004 11:11:29 -0700 (PDT)
From: Christopher Smith <silvenfox@yahoo.com>
Subject: Destiny of an Earth - 27

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.


Chapter 27


Justin watched as the horse of the Black Rider reared loudly, then turning
around galloped out of the destroyed gateway. The plans of Sauron was not
going as scripted. The darkness had been broken and the forces of Mordor
recoiled in fear and terror at the Rohirrim. Justin stepped forward seeing
the sight upon the hill. The riders of Rohan formed into ranks, spears and
swords gleaming in the new dawn.

Gandalf appeared behind Justin, still seated on the back of Shadowfax.
"Come and let us hurry to the Citadel! We must go and join the Rohirrim on
the battlefield."

With a grace and ease that surprised even himself, Justin leaped on the
back of the mighty, white horse. Shadowfax obeyed Gandalf's command and
shot forth through the city. They raced to the seventh circle, where the
Citadel stood. Justin heard a mighty screech and looked to the battlefield.
The Witch King descended and plucked a rider off the back of his horse,
taking him into the sky. They stormed into the tower and found Denethor
huddled over the comatose body of Faramir. Pippin stood at the King's side
with a worried look over his face. The little hobbit sighed in relief when
Gandalf and Justin arrived.

"Lord Denethor," Gandalf bellowed forcibly. "You are needed now to defend
your city!"

Denethor looked up his eyes clouded and glazed over. Grief was written
plain on his face. "How can I hope to defend my city when my son is lying
here dying."

Justin had had enough. Too many people were dying outside right now while
they were talking.

"I've had enough of this shit," Justin snapped, striding forward.

In one fluid motion, Justin slapped Denethor across the face. The echo of
the action sounded all over the room. Shock registered on everyone's faces.
The guards at the door made a move to come forward but Gandalf stopped them
with a wave of his hand.

"Listen," began Justin his voice commandingly hollow. "We really don't have
time for any of this right now! People are fucking dying! I don't know
about you but I want to help. I'm sure if Faramir were conscious, he would
tell you to get your ass up and help, too!"

Denethor held a hand to his cheek, and the look in his eyes started to
recede. The glassy lost expression washed away, replaced now by
determination and a newfound courage and wisdom.

"Aye, you are right. Minas Tirith is my home and it shall not fall tonight.
The Rohirrim are strong but the forces of Mordor are mightier. They can not
hope to beat the Orcs on their own."

"Then let us ride out and help them," spoke Gandalf, his lips curling up
into a smile.

"Come then, and let Mordor tremble at the might of Gondor!" Denethor told
them.

Gandalf offered to stay behind to help those that still dwelled in the
city. Justin however followed Denethor, and they readied themselves for
battle. Soon, the entire might of Gondor was armed and horsed, ready for
the battle ahead. Justin sat on the back of Lightwings, Dawnbringer at his
side and daggers sheathed on his arms. Overall they were an impressive
sight, the army of Gondor full of men ready to give their lives to defend
their country, and its people. Riding out through the destroyed gates of
the city, they glimpsed the carnage before them, then without further
thought they threw themselves into the battle.

Justin was shocked and sickened at the amount of bloodshed around him. All
the other fights before this were merely battles compared to this
nauseating sight. This, this was a fucking war. The green fields of the
Pelennor were drenched with the blood of Orcs and Men, making it appear as
if someone had thrown red paint all over the ground. Fighting off the urge
to vomit, Justin unsheathed the Dawnbringer and with a yell rode into the
thick of the fight. Even with the aid of the Rohirrim, they were still
outnumbered two to one. That didn't damper their spirits they still fought
with an uplifting bravado.

Justin slashed and hacked at any being that didn't appear slightly human.
Catching an Orc by surprise with a left hook, he quickly beheaded it with a
sharp slice. Another Orc tried to appear from behind him, but Justin heard
it coming. He spun around and held up his hand. Blue light collected in his
palm in the shape of an orb. Bringing his hand down with a quick snap, he
launched the ball of light. The ball shot forward and caught the Orc in the
chest, sending it flying backwards through air, blood splattering outwards
from where the ball shot into its chest.

"Aghh!"

Justin heard the yell from beside him. There was Eomer being quickly
surrounded by over a dozen armed Orcs each riding a large warg. The wargs
growled like the savage wolf like beast they were. Justin didn't even think
of what he had to do. His body reacted at seeing a friend in trouble.
Haldir had died and now Eomer was in a similar fix, but this time, no way
in Hell was another friend going to die. Not while he still drew breath and
had enough strength to stop it.

His eyes narrowed and they suddenly turned from their normal sky blue to a
vibrant, glowing, electric blue. Visible electric like currents crackled in
each eye and around his fingertips. Holding his hand to the sky, Justin
began to hum under his breath.

>From the clouds high above appeared a shaft of white lightning. The column
of lightning focused into the palm of Justin's hand, then with a sweep of
his arm, the bolts of lightning launched forward. In a devastating light
show the lightning enveloped the dozen Orcs encircling Eomer, and the wargs
they rode on. Their bodies lit up as they convulsed involuntarily their
skin frying, and hearts exploding inside their chests.

Other Orcs saw their comrades dying and rode toward Justin in droves. Eyes
glowing, Justin gathered a ball of fire around him in a huge pillar then
focused it along his finger toward the Orcs. The jet of fire melted the
flesh right from their bodies and turned their bodies into smoking
carcasses, joining the other dead Orcs and Men littering the field.

Eomer caught Justin's eye as he rode by on his brown mare. He gave Justin a
salute of thanks then cupped his hands to his mouth. "Drive them back!" he
shouted. "Drive them back to the river!"

"Make safe this city!" echoed King Theoden riding to his nephew's side.

Suddenly everything stilled and the battle crashed to a halt. The Mūmakil,
great Elephant-like creatures, arrived in full force. Théoden and his men
watched as the huge beasts of Haradrim marched toward them in a line. One
of the Mūmak commanders sounded his horn and the line moved on, toward the
city. The Rohirrim stared at the sight, their horses nervous. On the back
of the Mūmakil were tall, war towers where men of Haradrim rode.

Justin could feel his pulse suddenly quicken at the sight of the gigantic
beast before them. The Mūmakil were basically elephants doped up on
steroids. Theoden suddenly regained his bearings for he turned to the
scattered Rohirrim and ordered them back into line.

"Re-form the line!" King Theoden shouted to his men.

They obeyed and as fast they could they reformed into a long line. Justin
joined them seeing Eomer there also. He steered his horse so he was near
the Marshall of the Third Mark.

Theoden commanded the siren and with a yell they surged forward, rushing
toward the enemy. They clashed and many riders fell dead as the Mūmakil
used their gigantic tusks, covered with spikes, and their huge feet to
crush and throw aside all that stood in their way. The Haradrim shot
their arrows, killing many of the Rohirrim. Justin grimaced as an arrow
whizzed by, embedding itself in a nearby soldiers head. The fields were in
chaos, and the Rohirrim though fierce and stout in courage were unable to
match the huge beasts of the enemy.

Čomer stopped to face one of the beasts. With a spear in hand, he launched
the spear into the air, slaying the commander riding on top in the tower.
This caused the Mūmak to stamp madly into another of its kind, causing both
to fall to the ground. If they were outnumbered before then they were
definitely fucked now, for out of Osgiliath flowed even more numbers of the
enemy.

Then Justin heard it. The cry of the Witch King but it was different this
time. It sounded pained... hurt.

Like a wave, the news of the Lord of the Nazgul's death sped across the
field. It seemed that the Witch King had killed King Theoden, but Eowyn his
courageous niece, whom secretly rode into battle as one of the Rohirrim,
slew the evil lord in a fit of rage.

The brave act had left her badly wounded, so she had been rushed to the
Healing Houses of Minas Tirith. With the King of Rohan dead that now
legally made Eomer the new king.

Justin blocked a blow with his blade and countered it effectively, hewing
half of the Orc. Wiping his eyes, Justin took a deep breath. Scanning the
battle he could see that their side was losing numbers fast. Then there on
the shore of the river Anduin appeared huge black ships sailing towards the
battle.

"The Corsairs of Umbar!" the men shouted in fright and panic. "The Corsairs
of Umbar! Look! The Corsairs of Umbar are coming! Our doom is now at hand!"

Justin gripped his sword tighter in hand, hope dying in his heart. It
looked as if they were going to lose this battle yet. He hadn't even got to
say sorry to Legolas. He had hoped that maybe he could see him in battle
but it was not to be, for he nor the rest of the Fellowship was in
attendance.

Eomer was about to raise his sword and call his men to arms when he
glimpsed the standard flying in the wind on the lead ship. There high on
top of the crows nest was a great flag the like he had never seen, but knew
instantly.

On the great flag flowered a White Tree, and that was for Gondor; but Seven
Stars were about it, and a high crown above it, the signs of Elendil that
no lord had borne for years beyond count. For Elendil was the great
ancestor of Aragorn, once the King of Gondor in days of old. And the stars
flamed in the sunlight, for they were wrought of gems by Arwen, daughter of
Elrond; and the crown was bright in the morning, for it was
wrought of mithril and gold.

Everyone watched in surprise as, low and behold, Legolas, Gimli, Boromir,
and Aragorn jumped from the lead ship onto the shore. Fresh from the Paths
of the Dead and ready to fight, they looked a formidable sight. Wielding
their weapons they charged forward. From behind them came the Dunedain, the
Rangers of the North, the Elves Elladan and Erohir, and the Host of the
Dead flowed over the sides of the ship in impressive numbers.

Justin found his breath leave him as a ray of sunlight hit Legolas,
cradling his form. The light bathed him in its glow, making him look
beautiful and ethereal like some kind of angel. Justin found his mouth
had suddenly gone dry. Feeling cottonmouth, he realized embarrassed that
his mouth had been wide open the entire time. It wasn't that surprising
since Legolas always had an effect on him.

With the surprise reinforcements the tide of the battle quickly turned in
their favor. The forces of Mordor weren't expecting the reinforcements any
more then they were, and thus they weren't prepared to adequately fight the
new army. The combined three armies of Men were enough to beat back the
enemy.

Justin watched with satisfaction as the remaining Nazgul flew off into the
sky, and the armies of dark creatures were pressed back off the Pelennor
Fields. The Host of the Dead made devastating, quick work of the remaining
enemy. They moved in one solid green wave, roaring and chanting. All who
came upon them trembled in fear and were helpless before their fell wraith.

The three armies of Men cheered unified, as the last of the enemy
disappeared over a hill. Victory was theirs today. They had saved the White
City and its entire people from doom. Light in heart those remaining
converged near the great gate that the Witch King destroyed hours ago.

Aragorn was clothed in fresh clothes and on his brow was the star of the
North Kingdom, a shining, bright gem. He held up his hands to address the
captains and their knights. Just as the King of Rohan had fallen on the
battlefield this day, also the Steward, Denethor, had fallen. Southron
arrows had pierced his heart, injuring him fatality. He passed from this
plane with the sight of his oldest son tenderly, cradling him. Boromir was
now Steward as do the laws of Gondor state. All the men of Gondor obeyed
him and none other.

Justin watched not really paying attention, as Aragorn made some speech
about not wanting to enter the city unbidden. He said something along the
lines of not wanting to contest the power of Steward at this time and
wouldn't enter until he had permission.

Boromir at that time quieted him and firmly gave the Aragorn, Elessar, Heir
of Isildur permission to enter Minas Tirith. Gandalf, coming through the
gateway at that moment, agreed. He urged Aragorn that wounded people in the
Healing Houses needed the hands of a king for healing. The wounded people
being Faramir, Eowyn, and Merry. After hearing the names of the people
Aragorn was off, clothed in his Lothlorien cloak, to work healing.

Justin unnoticeably looked toward Legolas and panic washed over him. He
couldn't do this. Not now. There was no way he could face Legolas after all
the cruel things he had said to the Elf. Kicking Lightwings forward, Justin
rode through the gates past the people gathered inside waiting to welcome
the heroes. Legolas caught sight of Justin precisely as he sped through the
archway into the city.

"Go after him," Boromir urged him, seeing the guilt and hurt swimming in
his eyes.

Legolas spurred his own horse he had claimed on the field forward. He was a
Blur, as he galloped after Justin. The man in question was flying through
the streets. He kept his eyes forward not looking behind him. The panic had
taken over his heart overriding his normal senses. He reached the seventh
circle of the city and stopped. Stopped because there was nowhere else to
go. He was at the very top ring of the city.

The Citadel rose before him and the White Tree rooted near the fountain
gave the setting a tranquil ambiance. It was a direct contrast to the
destroyed first ring of the city that had been consumed in flames during
the siege.

Dismounting his horse, Justin walked to the stone bench and sat down. He
placed his face into hands with a sigh. Hearing the soft trotting of a
horse's footstep brought him out of his internal musings. He looked up into
the most drowning pair of midnight blue eyes he had ever seen. The eyes of
Legolas. Justin's heart jumped in his throat. The ache was so strong at the
sight of seeing his love.

"Hi," said Justin quietly, suddenly shy.

"Hello, Justin..." They both paused, the silence between them hanging there
in the air. "How have you been?"

"Well, I've been fighting like an extra from Braveheart the last few days,
how about you?" replied Justin, sarcasm and accusation could be heard in
his voice. Once the comment left his lips, Justin mentally slapped himself
at hearing the way he sounded.

Legolas hung his head. "Do you hate me so much now?"

Justin stood up quickly causing Legolas to meet his gaze. "No, I don't hate
you!" Tears came to his eyes but Justin didn't bother to brush them away.
"I could never hate you. Do you hate me?"

Legolas instantly shook his head negative. "I do not hate you, luv." He
stepped forward and hesitantly took Justin's hands within his own. "It is
just the opposite. I love you, Justin Timblerlake. Now and until the end of
days."

Justin sniffed, as tears poured from his eyes running down his cheeks.
Without warning he threw his arms around Legolas' neck. "I love you too,
Legolas Greenleaf. I didn't mean all those things I said. I was being
dumb. I realize that."

"I am sorry, too, for saying things I did not mean. They were untrue and I
regret -ever- saying such cruel words to you."

Justin pushed out of his arms. "I forgave you that very same day, Las.
There is no need to say anything else. We're together again and that's all
that matters."

They stood there in the courtyard of the Citadel hugging, holding each
other in silence. Their cares of the world fading away as they clung to one
other. Tears flowed down both of their cheeks, with it all the pain and
hurt they both felt, faded away. The first step had been achieved. They
were back together. The next step would be healing and moving on.


To Be Continued...

******************************************
The next chapter will be up next week on Friday .If you want to send me an
email you can reach me at silvenfox@yahoo.com