**I don't own anything from Lord of the Rings, J. R.R. Tolkien, or any of
the poetry or poets referenced (such as John Keats, Shakespeare, Poe,
Donne)-all I own is Dascha, Ivy, Geniveve, Christopher, Ireth and Taralom**
A/N: This story is the third part of "The Evangeline Series," the first part being found in the story "A Sorta Fairytale" and the second part in "Judgement of the Moon and Stars." Please read and review if you have not already done so. Happy reading!
PART THREE OF THE EVANGELINE SERIES:
Green and Gray
By Leah Pensotti
Chapter One: What Is and What Should Never Be
Geniveve rode for three days with little sleep and food. The sky never lightened, it remained near black as pitch as she made her way to the besieged capital of Gondor. She hoped to catch Dascha before she caught up with the Rohirrim in battle.
On this fourth morning, Geniveve urged Taralom on, pushing him harder and harder. She felt guilty for doing so, but the horse never once hindered. He loved to run and Geniveve sensed that he craved it while kept in his stall at Edoras.
She stopped at the sight of water, wanting to make sure that she and Taralom were properly hydrated. She did not wish to fight and she most certainly did not wish to break her promise to Legolas. Her thoughts bent on him as they traveled. Would he chastise her? Would he lose interest in her?
Without him, she would have nothing here. Dascha, her best friend, made it very clear that she intended on leaving Geniveve to her own devices. She felt quite certain that Geniveve and Legolas would scurry away after the war. But nothing was certain anymore. If Dascha fought, anything could happen. Anything could come to pass.
What if Geniveve lost everything in this very moment? No. She refused to let that happen. She had already lost her home, her family, her life, and her mortality. She would stop this.
As she stopped for water, Geniveve felt the pull of sleep at her body. She could not sleep. She would not sleep. Who knows what is free and about in these fatal days, when evil has darkened the sky and orcs and wicked men hide in the hills and woods. No, she would not stop until she hit the White City.
After she and Taralom drank their fill, Geniveve mounted the horse once again, "Come boy. We're almost there. Yet we are a day behind them. Heaven only knows what has happened in those horrid fields."
Suddenly, horns cried out in the dark morning. The Rohirrim were attacking. She was too late.
~~
Geniveve urged Taralom the hardest she ever had, and he did not disappoint. He ran faster than most thoroughbreds. Geniveve could see the smoke from the trees and the battle cries raging. It was mid afternoon and she approached a dark wood. She watched the battle in the cover of darkness. How was she to find Dascha in that? How was she to survive that battle?
A familiar sound brought her out of her reverie. Another horse came up and nuzzled Taralom out of the trees. Geniveve gasped with shock, "Ireth?"
Ireth's saddle was still on, but there was no rider. Geniveve took him by the reins and tried to calm him, "Shh, Ireth. Where is Dascha?"
Geniveve dismounted from Taralom and led both horses by the reins. She heard a wheezing sound in a mass of leaves. Geniveve bent down and let her eyes focus. Dascha lie there, covered in blood. Three arrows protruded from her left leg and there was pooled blood at her midsection. Geniveve released the reins of the horses and cried in horror. She knelt down and lifted Dascha's head. She was wheezing badly, her face filled with bruises and cuts that had begun to dry. Dascha made a pained grunt, blood coming from her mouth. She was awake and struggling for breath.
Geniveve rested Dascha's head on her lap and held her close, "Dascha! Please! Can you hear me?"
Dascha moved her head an attempted to talk, "I'm sorry."
Geniveve shook her gently, "Tell me what happened. Who did this?"
Dascha spoke slowly and slightly slurred, "Orcs."
"Were they Uruks?"
Dascha shook her head negatively. Geniveve began to cry, "You didn't even make it into battle? Did you?"
Dascha let out a raspy, low moan, "Ambushed."
Geniveve put her hand to Dascha's stomach. Her fingers sank in her friend's blood. She had taken a blade to the stomach, the entire width of her slashed open. Geniveve cried softly. She needed to get help, but it was too dangerous. She may not make it back and Dascha would be left for carrion to those disgusting creatures.
Dascha caught sight of her friend's tears and gave a guttural whisper, "My bowels are still there, no?"
Geniveve nodded, "Can you hold on a while? I can clean you up here and then take you in, to the healers."
Dascha nodded carefully and Geniveve set to work. She ripped off the sleeves of her riding jacket and did the same to Dascha's. She took her skin of water and washed the wounds at Dascha's stomach, they were deep but they could be worse.
She then worked on Dascha's leg. She broke the tips off of the arrows and then pulled them out. Geniveve grimaced and cried at every pull. When all three were removed, Geniveve cleaned the wounds and tied the sleeves of their jackets tight around them. She held Dascha close.
"Hold on Dascha. Hold on."
~~
As the nightfall came, Geniveve and Dascha decided to chance the journey to the city. Geniveve helped Dascha up and assisted her onto Ireth. Dascha struggled and cried. She was in so much pain. When she finally got up, Geniveve mounted Taralom and she held Ireth's reins to lead him. Dascha slouched over Ireth; she could not sit up.
Geniveve drew her blade and nudged Taralom forward while pulling Ireth along. As they stepped into the fields, Geniveve saw that most of the orcs were overrun and men had regained their stronghold. Geniveve kept her blade drawn and felt more secure about the approach. Suddenly, Geniveve caught sight of the gate to the city and made her way to the door. Geniveve knocked on it frantically and a voice called to her, "Who are you?"
She cleared her throat; "I am Geniveve the Evangeline. My friend was ambushed in the Grey Forrest. Please let us in. She needs attention. We are friends of the Riddermark. We are guests of King Theoden."
The Doorward opened the door and looked at her sadly, "I cannot let you in."
Geniveve felt tears, "Please, she'll bleed to death otherwise."
Geniveve didn't know if that was true, but she did not wish to test it. Suddenly, a small figure called to the Doorward, "I will speak for them both, they are my friends."
Geniveve squinted and saw that the little form dressed in silver and black was none other than Peregrin Took of the Shire. The Doorward relented and opened the gate to let the horses in. Geniveve hopped off Taralom and scooped Pippin in her arms.
"Pippin it is good to see you!"
"And you as well. Merry needs attention, but I cannot get him to the citadel."
Geniveve caught a glimpse of Merry, who looked dazed and disoriented. And cried, "Have we all been spoiled and scathed?
Suddenly, Geniveve felt the presence of another and turned to find Gandalf caressing Merry's forehead and hoisting him over his shoulder. Geniveve felt Gandalf's eyes burn through her, "Surely you did not fight in this battle, giver of riddles?"
Geniveve shook her head, "No. Dascha followed the Rohirrim and I rode to stop her. When I found her in the wood outside the city, she had been ambushed by orcs. I tended to her as best I could. I don't know how we will get her to the Healers."
Gandalf motioned for another guard to take Dascha up to the citadel. Gandalf turned to her and Pippin, "Take the horses to the stables. Pippin, then you shall lead Geniveve to the Houses of Healing."
~~
A/N-Reunions galore, Dascha falls ill, Legolas sees Geniveve. Stay tuned! Please Read and Review!
A/N: This story is the third part of "The Evangeline Series," the first part being found in the story "A Sorta Fairytale" and the second part in "Judgement of the Moon and Stars." Please read and review if you have not already done so. Happy reading!
PART THREE OF THE EVANGELINE SERIES:
Green and Gray
By Leah Pensotti
Chapter One: What Is and What Should Never Be
Geniveve rode for three days with little sleep and food. The sky never lightened, it remained near black as pitch as she made her way to the besieged capital of Gondor. She hoped to catch Dascha before she caught up with the Rohirrim in battle.
On this fourth morning, Geniveve urged Taralom on, pushing him harder and harder. She felt guilty for doing so, but the horse never once hindered. He loved to run and Geniveve sensed that he craved it while kept in his stall at Edoras.
She stopped at the sight of water, wanting to make sure that she and Taralom were properly hydrated. She did not wish to fight and she most certainly did not wish to break her promise to Legolas. Her thoughts bent on him as they traveled. Would he chastise her? Would he lose interest in her?
Without him, she would have nothing here. Dascha, her best friend, made it very clear that she intended on leaving Geniveve to her own devices. She felt quite certain that Geniveve and Legolas would scurry away after the war. But nothing was certain anymore. If Dascha fought, anything could happen. Anything could come to pass.
What if Geniveve lost everything in this very moment? No. She refused to let that happen. She had already lost her home, her family, her life, and her mortality. She would stop this.
As she stopped for water, Geniveve felt the pull of sleep at her body. She could not sleep. She would not sleep. Who knows what is free and about in these fatal days, when evil has darkened the sky and orcs and wicked men hide in the hills and woods. No, she would not stop until she hit the White City.
After she and Taralom drank their fill, Geniveve mounted the horse once again, "Come boy. We're almost there. Yet we are a day behind them. Heaven only knows what has happened in those horrid fields."
Suddenly, horns cried out in the dark morning. The Rohirrim were attacking. She was too late.
~~
Geniveve urged Taralom the hardest she ever had, and he did not disappoint. He ran faster than most thoroughbreds. Geniveve could see the smoke from the trees and the battle cries raging. It was mid afternoon and she approached a dark wood. She watched the battle in the cover of darkness. How was she to find Dascha in that? How was she to survive that battle?
A familiar sound brought her out of her reverie. Another horse came up and nuzzled Taralom out of the trees. Geniveve gasped with shock, "Ireth?"
Ireth's saddle was still on, but there was no rider. Geniveve took him by the reins and tried to calm him, "Shh, Ireth. Where is Dascha?"
Geniveve dismounted from Taralom and led both horses by the reins. She heard a wheezing sound in a mass of leaves. Geniveve bent down and let her eyes focus. Dascha lie there, covered in blood. Three arrows protruded from her left leg and there was pooled blood at her midsection. Geniveve released the reins of the horses and cried in horror. She knelt down and lifted Dascha's head. She was wheezing badly, her face filled with bruises and cuts that had begun to dry. Dascha made a pained grunt, blood coming from her mouth. She was awake and struggling for breath.
Geniveve rested Dascha's head on her lap and held her close, "Dascha! Please! Can you hear me?"
Dascha moved her head an attempted to talk, "I'm sorry."
Geniveve shook her gently, "Tell me what happened. Who did this?"
Dascha spoke slowly and slightly slurred, "Orcs."
"Were they Uruks?"
Dascha shook her head negatively. Geniveve began to cry, "You didn't even make it into battle? Did you?"
Dascha let out a raspy, low moan, "Ambushed."
Geniveve put her hand to Dascha's stomach. Her fingers sank in her friend's blood. She had taken a blade to the stomach, the entire width of her slashed open. Geniveve cried softly. She needed to get help, but it was too dangerous. She may not make it back and Dascha would be left for carrion to those disgusting creatures.
Dascha caught sight of her friend's tears and gave a guttural whisper, "My bowels are still there, no?"
Geniveve nodded, "Can you hold on a while? I can clean you up here and then take you in, to the healers."
Dascha nodded carefully and Geniveve set to work. She ripped off the sleeves of her riding jacket and did the same to Dascha's. She took her skin of water and washed the wounds at Dascha's stomach, they were deep but they could be worse.
She then worked on Dascha's leg. She broke the tips off of the arrows and then pulled them out. Geniveve grimaced and cried at every pull. When all three were removed, Geniveve cleaned the wounds and tied the sleeves of their jackets tight around them. She held Dascha close.
"Hold on Dascha. Hold on."
~~
As the nightfall came, Geniveve and Dascha decided to chance the journey to the city. Geniveve helped Dascha up and assisted her onto Ireth. Dascha struggled and cried. She was in so much pain. When she finally got up, Geniveve mounted Taralom and she held Ireth's reins to lead him. Dascha slouched over Ireth; she could not sit up.
Geniveve drew her blade and nudged Taralom forward while pulling Ireth along. As they stepped into the fields, Geniveve saw that most of the orcs were overrun and men had regained their stronghold. Geniveve kept her blade drawn and felt more secure about the approach. Suddenly, Geniveve caught sight of the gate to the city and made her way to the door. Geniveve knocked on it frantically and a voice called to her, "Who are you?"
She cleared her throat; "I am Geniveve the Evangeline. My friend was ambushed in the Grey Forrest. Please let us in. She needs attention. We are friends of the Riddermark. We are guests of King Theoden."
The Doorward opened the door and looked at her sadly, "I cannot let you in."
Geniveve felt tears, "Please, she'll bleed to death otherwise."
Geniveve didn't know if that was true, but she did not wish to test it. Suddenly, a small figure called to the Doorward, "I will speak for them both, they are my friends."
Geniveve squinted and saw that the little form dressed in silver and black was none other than Peregrin Took of the Shire. The Doorward relented and opened the gate to let the horses in. Geniveve hopped off Taralom and scooped Pippin in her arms.
"Pippin it is good to see you!"
"And you as well. Merry needs attention, but I cannot get him to the citadel."
Geniveve caught a glimpse of Merry, who looked dazed and disoriented. And cried, "Have we all been spoiled and scathed?
Suddenly, Geniveve felt the presence of another and turned to find Gandalf caressing Merry's forehead and hoisting him over his shoulder. Geniveve felt Gandalf's eyes burn through her, "Surely you did not fight in this battle, giver of riddles?"
Geniveve shook her head, "No. Dascha followed the Rohirrim and I rode to stop her. When I found her in the wood outside the city, she had been ambushed by orcs. I tended to her as best I could. I don't know how we will get her to the Healers."
Gandalf motioned for another guard to take Dascha up to the citadel. Gandalf turned to her and Pippin, "Take the horses to the stables. Pippin, then you shall lead Geniveve to the Houses of Healing."
~~
A/N-Reunions galore, Dascha falls ill, Legolas sees Geniveve. Stay tuned! Please Read and Review!