Disclaimer: Any character that you recognize belongs to JRR Tolkien's estate, not me. This story is a fanfiction of his work and not canon. It is for entertainment purposes only and I am definitely not making any money from it.
The sound of the drums was unbearable. They had been beating since the army from Mordor arrived, and that was at least a day ago. I was standing at the gate to the city of Minas Tirith, leading men of the city guard against the forces that were working to destroy the gate and enter the city. I had some men stationed against the gate, bracing it from the orcs who were pushing at it from the other side. There was some noise coming from behind us, and I looked over my shoulder to see my brother arrive. Our eyes met, and we had a perfect moment of silent understanding—we would die here.
"Father and Erchirion are up at the fourth level," he said, walking down to stand next to me. "They have evacuated the first three begun to set up a barrier at the gate."
We turned back to look at the gate to the first level, where the men who were bracing it were thrown back periodically. My dear brother was a fool to come down to this gate. If reinforcements would come, he would have a higher chance of surviving until then if he had stayed with our father and his twin. "Why didn't you stay with them, Amrothos?"
"You were down here," he replied, shrugging.
"So, you came to keep me safe?" I asked.
"No, Lothíriel," he said, almost laughing, "I came for you to keep me safe."
It was almost too much for us, and we doubled over laughing. For just a moment, we were far from the siege of Minas Tirith. "How about this, Death? I will watch your back and you will watch mine!"
"At least we are the two best swordsmen, Siege" he replied, giving my arm a nudge. The battering of the gate stopped, and the smiles were wiped from our faces. Amrothos and I stood frozen for a moment, wondering what was coming next.
Mithrandir rode down from the upper levels to meet us, sitting astride a great white horse. "They are bringing a battering ram!" he cried. The panic was evident in his voice, and it made me wonder what it was that they had brought before? And what could it be now that had him so frightened? The gate shook violently once, and all of us lost our footing. "No matter what comes through that gate, remember that you are men of Gondor!" Mithrandir shouted. "You must stand your ground!" I wanted to be courageous and fight what was coming, just as I fought everything before this battle.
The gate shook one more time. My heart was pounding, and what had been the calm acceptance of my death transformed into the highest panic. I didn't want to die…I didn't want to see Gondor fall. Amrothos drew his sword, and I copied his motions as well. "I love you, my brother," I said.
The gate shook again, and this time it burst open. I could see very little, but I did see the Black Captain leading in a host of the foulest creatures into Minas Tirith. My courage left me, and I joined the fleeing mob of men alongside my brother.
"To me!"
Somehow, Mithrandir's voice carried over the roar of the battle, and I knew I could not leave him behind. "We have to stay, Amrothos!" I yelled to him. I pulled out my horn and gave a call-all of the men around us heard me. With any luck, some of them would follow as well.
"For Gondor!" I screamed, and charged back towards the gate. I did not see how many came back with us, but I saw Amrothos running to keep up with me. Mithrandir was going to hold his own against the Black Captain, and I decided to avoid that particular enemy. Orcs were flooding into the city, along with Mountain Trolls.
"That one!" Amrothos yelled, pointing to one of the trolls. He and I cut our way across to the nearest Mountain troll and began our assault. Right as we encountered our enemy another sound flew across the sky. Horns! I recognized them at once. Rohan had come to our aid. I hoped that they brought thousands of men to come and fight against the thousands that besieged this city.
"Can you get to the stomach?" Amrothos yelled over the din.
I ducked under the swing of the troll and tried to do as he asked. "Nearly there!" I plunged my sword into its stomach, and the troll heaved for a moment before Amrothos jumped onto it and thrust his sword into the troll's throat. It made a sickening sound, and the both of us only just managed to get away before it fell.
Let's get another," he said as I drew my sword back out. We spared just a moment to see more of the men cease their retreat and return to fight. But where were Mithrandir and the Black Captain? I could not see either of them, but my thoughts returned to my task. My brother and I quickly ran to the nearest troll and we continued our assault. After a long time, the only creatures of Mordor coming in through the gates were orcs, and we managed to make headway there as more men came down from the higher levels. Just as we took down the last of the cave trolls that came through the gate, we heard the call of our father and saw him leading down a cavalry of the Swan Knights.
"We shall charge the field soon!" he yelled to us, and joined into the fray. Amrothos and I backed onto a wall and took a moment to collect ourselves. I found that I was shaking, but said nothing.
"They have brought our horses—come!" Amrothos said suddenly, pointing to the middle of the Swan Knights. We cut our way through and mounted as quickly as possible.
Erchirion saw us, and made his way over quickly. "You have held the gate, all things considered. Father wants us to drive out into the field of Pelennor as soon as possible."
"I heard the men of Rohan," I told him.
"Yes, they are cutting through the northern half of the field and we will try to meet up with them," he answered. "Are you both ready?"
"We shall crash upon them like waves," Amrothos said, and I could only give a grim nod. Father and Mithrandir approached us.
"We shall ride now, and Mithrandir shall hold the gate for us," he said, to which all three of us nodded. Father pulled out his horn again, and in a moment all of the Swan Knights and some of the city's men were charging out into the field of Pelennor. I could scarcely believe my eyes when I saw how many orcs were there; I could not even see the Rohirrim to the north. The scale of the host against us was unlike any that I had encountered before. The Rohirrim would need to be great in number to help defeat the orcs, and I feared that the had not brought enough.
But if they had, then it was likely one of the Royal Family was commanding the troops, maybe even Théodred. My spirits rose at the thought. Théodred must be here, and I could see him if only we both survived to meet!
Our knights pooled around the gate and began to drive the enemy back. We couldn't very well hold the entire line and expand outwards, so we concentrated our efforts to making an in towards the north. Behind me, men were converging on the battering ram and trying to destroy it. Eventually, the ground shook and the deafening sound of wood collapsing rang out—the battering ram had been dismantled and killed some of the trolls under it. My gaze flicked towards the river for a moment, and my heart nearly stopped. Ships were coming, and in the next moment I saw the flag unveil. Could it possibly be the standard of Dol Amroth? We were much too far away to tell.
The sound of the Southern Horn rose up. "Father, Elphir has come!" I yelled to him.
Mithrandir came charging up to us. "Imrahil, I have brought the main host of the City. Take half your men and cut over to the river to meet the reinforcements. Send out the other half to meet with Rohan. The gate will not fall now."
Erchirion and Amrothos brought their horses over for a moment upon hearing Mithrandir. "Storm and Death, head to Elphir. Lothíriel and I shall charge up to the Rohirrim," Father ordered. All three of us nodded and we quickly separated the men and began the charge. As I rode beside my father I could barely comprehend what was happening beyond the point of my sword. As my sword tore through the orcs with practiced precision I felt that each orc destroyed brought me one step closer to Théodred. We finally reached the ground that the Rohirrim occupied, and we fanned out to aid in their cavalry charge. My father kept some of the men near our entry point, and I led the others across the plains to meet up with the main effort.
Elfhelm, dressed in his best armor, turned back from the fighting for a moment to come to me. "Tell your captain to keep the men riding to the southwest. We can drive them back into the river with you," he said. Clearly he did not recognize me.
"I am the captain. Tell yours that we shall be there!" I said back, and quickly pulled out my horn again. He gave me a smile that bordered on a grimace in reply.
Rallying the Gondorians, I pushed us through to the vanguard of the Rohirrim's forces and we pushed forth. Elfhelm stayed by my side and we fought westwards and eventually came all the way to the river. Another two Rohirrim came up to us. "Elfhelm, we must rally back towards the gate. The city's forces are pushing their way out and with the Gray Company we shall meet them in the middle."
Elfhelm, nodded. "Captain, bring your men with us?" he asked me. I nodded, and the four of us rallied our men again and led what would be the final charge on the fields of Pelennor. Grueling hours went by, with no sign of Théodred. Just as the sun began to set, we saw the last few of the orcs fleeing back towards Mordor.
I turned my horse to face the three commanders of Rohan's calvary. "Thank you for coming to our aid, my northern brothers."
My father rode up to us, and with him came all three of my brothers. "The field is mostly cleared. We must get the wounded into the city and see if there is anything that can be done for them," he said. Elphir said nothing, but rode up to clap me on the shoulder. Relief was evident in his eyes—we were alive!
"Elfhelm and Éothain, commence the search for the wounded. I will stay on the field and look for the remaining enemies," one of the men said.
"Yes, Éomer-King," the other man, presumably Eothain, said.
My heart stopped—had I heard correctly? This man, Éomer, was the king of Rohan? I looked back to the first man. What of Théoden? What of Théodred?
"Éomer-King, I am Prince Imrahil of Dol Amroth, and these are my four children, the Captains of Dol Amroth," Father introduced swiftly. For a moment, I thought that I would collapse and die of grief, but somehow I shoved it aside—I would discover more in time. I was so exhausted and numb from the battle to process if my Théodred was gone. It just couldn't be so…
Nods were passed around, and then Father turned to us. "The twins and I shall supervise the remaining fieldwork. You both will take wounded with you and met back with Mithrandir to deal with the city," he said.
"Yes, Father," Elphir said, and I nodded. The two of us took our leave of that company and immediately began to search for survivors. Only now did I see the immense dead. Piles of men and orcs covered the field, along with the odd mumakil. We dismounted and began to search through the bodies. "I see you survived alright," Elphir said after the third pile revealed no survivors. I pulled off my helmet and tied it back onto my horse.
"I see you left Dol Amroth, War" I answered. "Who is in charge of the city?"
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw that he nodded as we began pulling another pile of bodies apart. "Aunt Irviniel. We heard about the siege and I readied our river-worthy ships to sail up. At Pelegir we met up with some Corsairs, and Siege, there is a new—"
My other senses left me, and in a flash my face was in pain and I fell backwards. A weight fell on top of me, but I couldn't see. I somehow grabbed its face and twisted it violently to the right. A cracking sound, and then stillness. "Lothíriel!" In pain, I grabbed my face with one hand and threw the body off of me with the other. I gathered myself and realized that I could see out of one eye, and the other's vision was obscured by blood. With my right hand, I whipped around my cloak and dabbed the left part of my face with it. My brother called out my name again as he sat down on the ground next to me.
"I am fine." That's all I could manage to say. The pain was terrible, but it was mostly shock that had me at such a weak position. Elphir put his hands under my right arm and helped me up. "What happened? I couldn't even think it was so quick."
"An orc that was still alive," he replied. "It tore your face, but you broke its neck." Thinking that most of the blood had been wiped off, I let go of my cloak. To my dismay, it took just a moment for it to continue bleeding. "We must get you to the house of healing."
"Let me find someone who is more grievously injured," I said after a moment, biting back my words to keep from sounding weak. "Head wounds bleed a lot, but I shall survive." He tried to protest, but I moved on to the next pile, this time with my dagger at the ready. In a few minutes I managed to find a wounded Rohirrim and persuaded him to get onto my horse. He had an arrow in his shoulder, but I was hopeful that he might survive. Once Elphir had a wounded man on his horse as well, the four of us made the trek up to Minas Tirith and ventured into the House of Healing. Seeing that the healers were so short staffed, I took only a small bundle of bandages for myself and had Elphir wrap the left side of my face as best he could.
"Do not look so distraught, Elphir," I said to him. He stared at me for a quick moment. "We saved Minas Tirith, and we are alive." My stomach dropped in a flash of pain, this time because I knew that Théodred was not here to share this joyous news…
"That we are, Sister," he replied evenly. Once the bandage was secure, we took off to find Mithrandir, only to be forestalled by his arrival with the great host of our family and allies.
"The captains of Dol Amroth," Mithrandir said, greeting us. Father gave Elphir a clap on the shoulder and stopped short when his gaze turned to me, and the five of us separated from the group to speak.
"What happened?" Father asked me.
"An orc tore up my face, apparently," I replied.
"When we were searching for the wounded," Elphir added. Father nodded, but said nothing. Erchirion managed to give me a weak smile while Amrothos stared at me with a blank expression. Father took me in his arms for an embrace, and shortly we were joined by my brothers.
"I am glad we are all together," Father said quietly. None of us said anything for a moment as we breathed in relief; our family survived.
"What about Denethor?" Elphir asked.
Father shook his head. "He did not survive, and Faramir is wounded." Only then did I realize that I had completely forgotten to inform Elphir of our other family. "We have just now brought up Aragorn to heal him."
Who is Aragorn? Elphir merely nodded to Father. He must have seen my confusion, though, for he said, "Aragorn is the heir of Elendil, and he will be the next King of Gondor." That news surprised me, but I didn't comment out loud. What was there to say, really? A king has risen; stranger things have happened of late.
"Storm, you slept for a few hours during the night, correct?" Father asked him, to which my brother nodded. "Then Death and Siege, go back to our house here and rest. Since the rest of us have been able to sleep some in the past two days then you shall be the first to take a break."
"The siege began on the thirteenth, have you not slept since then?" Elphir asked.
"We were posted to the gate yesterday morning, and have not slept since," I replied, somewhat shaking my head in disbelief. How could Amrothos and I still be standing?
"Then let's retire now, little one," Amrothos said to me. I nodded and with a round of farewells the two of us hurried back to our house on the sixth level. Some of the Swan Knights were present, but we merely told them to rest and headed up to our rooms. My maid was fast asleep in her room, so rather than disturbing her I quickly removed my own armor and most of the clothes before collapsing into the bed. For a moment I wanted to cry for all that had been lost—including my beloved Théodred, but I couldn't manage to stay awake long enough to do so.