CHAPTER ONE- Waking up to a nightmare

In the middle of a field of corpses, Ataraastald's eyes suddenly opened. She was an Elf, a Ranger, a woman...but that was all that she knew at the moment. She tried to sit up and look around, but her body ached and her arms felt too heavy to pick up. Her head swam and she drifted in and out of consciousness. Once she was awake enough to realize that she had no idea where she was, she turned her head and looked beside her to see at least a piece of her surroundings. There she saw an Orc with a cloven head lying next to her. Immediately awareness returned, and she realized that she was lying in the middle of the Pelennor fields. She had participated in the War of the Ring, and had fought long and hard against Sauron's forces. Her bow had sung, and her sword had gleamed, but she too had been hit. A black-feathered arrow stuck out from her left shoulder, her raiments were slashed in many places, and there were open wounds all over her body.

She realized that the fighting had stopped, but did not know the outcome. Many shapes she could see moving in the darkness of her clouded vision, but her eyes were too weary to discern whether they were friend or foe. Suddenly a face appeared above her. She recognized her good friend Elrohir, and exclaimed, "Elrohir! Vedui!" She winced. "Can you...help me, friend?"

He smiled in relief that she was alive. "Yes! Astaraastald, we have been looking for you! Many are still unaccounted for." He bent down and carefully picked up his friend.

She was suddenly worried. "Elrohir! Where is my bow? And my sword?" He laughed. "Those have already been found. Worry not. But we must get you help, you are wounded!"

She spoke in a weak and weary voice. "Yes, I am. You are here, walking freely...so the Ringbearer succeeded?"

"Yes. The Ring is destroyed."

Atara sighed in relief. She then mumbled, "My shoulder...it..." and fainted.

Elrohir cursed. He realized that the yrch had poisoned their arrows. He walked swiftly to his horse, put Atara on, and mounted behind her. He rode to the tents where the wounded were being tended to. Aragorn was helping, and Elrohir walked to him and said, "My Lord, Atara has a poisoned arrow in her shoulder and many other wounds. She fainted a few minutes ago." Aragorn led Elrohir to an empty cot, and he put Atara down.

Aragorn looked her over and walked away. He returned with clean cloths, athelas, and a bowl of steaming water. He put the plant in the water, and began to staunch her bleeding wounds. He said to Elrohir, "Pull out the arrow. It is better to do it while she is not conscious, it will not hurt her that way." Elrohir was wary, but he did as he was told. He grasped the foul arrow and pulled it out. Luckily it was straight-tipped, with a thin head and no barbs. Aragorn gave him a cloth, and he pressed it to the wound. The scent of the athelas was already strong in the tents, but Aragorn could still smell that the bowl was ready. He removed some of the plant and put it onto her wounds. He also cleansed her dirty face with a cloth soaked in the warm water, and he washed anywhere else that was exposed also. He left the bowl of water by her, knowing that even the scent had marvelous medicinal properties.

Elrohir sat on the ground by his friend, awaiting her awakening. The fragrant scent of the athelas refreshed and heartened him. Soon he was light of heart and smiling. Then suddenly Ataraastald's eyes opened. He heard her murmur "Elro...the...my...", and he moved to kneel above her. "I am here, Atara." he said, knowing that she was finally awakening. She blinked and said, "Elrohir, I feel terrible. That arrow...was poisoned...wasn't it?"

"Yes, it was. But Lord Aragorn applied athelas to it, and to all of your other wounds. It is drawing out the poison as we speak, and you shall be fine."

She felt her stomach convulse, and she turned her head to the side of the cot that Elrohir was not on and retched. Elrohir gasped, and then went to get water to clean her mouth. She still felt queasy and aching, as she had never felt before. She had felt extreme fatigue before, but nothing of this magnitude. Elrohir returned with a bowl. "Atara, can you sit up?"

She tried, and could, but she could not stay in that position. He put his hand behind her back, and let her drink the water and spit it out to rid her mouth of the acid taste left by the vomit. "Thank you, Elrohir."

"You're welcome, my friend. So I take it you're not going to be moving much today?"

She laughed. "Actually, I feel better after that, but no, I'm so exhausted...Elrohir, how many of us made it through?"

"Most of us. We fought well and felled many foes, but a few of us were also hurt. Elladan is fine, and so is Aragorn, obviously."

She smiled in relief. "That is good. Now I may rest in peace...but is Calagwaew also alright?"

"Yes, your fair horse led me to you, and then she ran back here before you could see, for she has some wounds that need tending. She will be fine, do not fear."

With that she passed out of consciousness once more. Elrohir covered her with a warm blanket and walked to another cot so that he could also rest.