A plan -- The Quest Continues...

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Subject: A plan

Author:
Aragorn

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Date Posted: 09:04:01 06/25/02 Tue

His head rested against the iron bars that separated him from freedom.

"Sam, were you at the coranation?" Derek's seemingly unquenchable enthusiasm had finally died and the voice that came, muffled through Aragorn's wall, was low and dejected.
"Yes, I was," he answered his tone identical.
"It must have been wonderful." Derek was obviously perking up again. "I couldn't get in but I can imagine what it was like." He paused and then said, "what was it like?"
Aragorn forced himself to laugh. "I thought you could imagine."
"Please."
A silence, then:

"The king wore robes of white. The people cheered as Mithrandir placed the winged helm of Gondor upon his head to the sound of trumpets and through the delicate fragrence of rose petals." Derek sighed blissfully and Aragorn continued once more. "The king made alot of promises that day, about how everything was going to change. I think he even believed them then."
"What do you mean by that?"
"Nothing has changed," Elessar snarled. "Everything is the same as it used to be. We will never be the white city. I know that now though I did not then."

A subdued silence followed this outburst.

"I think you're wrong."
The king smiled slightly, "you would."
"No, just listen. The king is a good man." A snort of unhumourous laughter from the other side of the wall. "He just needs to know what is going on in his kingdom. You have to trust; you have to believe in the general nobility of people."
"That belief died when I was thrown in here, my friend. You should not be rotting here after stealing an apple!"
"Well if that is all you have seen here I cannot help you."
"Derek, I can't see anything. That is the way in pitch darkness."
But Derek was silent.
"Derek, I'm sorry."
No answer.
"What should I have seen? Tell me!"

He moved his face around the bars slightly as a wind whispered down the corridor and was rewarded by a scratch from the rust covered pole he was leaning against. In anger he swore under his breath and lashed out at it. More rust broke away and the bar shivered.

Gently he probed the bottom of the bar. It appeared to be hollow and down near the join it had mostly rusted away. He moved his fingers up to the top of the pole. Here too it was weak. He tried the next bar along but it was sturdy and showed no sign of similiar rusting. So there was no way he could create a hole large enough to escape through. At best he might be able to do something with that, one pole.

As Vomyr's voice crept through the murky depths of the prison bowls Aragorn felt the faint tug of a plan pull at his mind.

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