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 Mûmakil, 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 Mûmak 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 Mûmakil 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 Mûmakil 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 Mûmakil 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.
Èomer 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 Mûmak 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