A/N: Enjoy this chapter!
WARNING: Possible Character Death. Your Choice.
The sun stroked long fingers of heat across the golden heads of the citizens of Edoras. Horses lifted their legs tiredly, stirring dust clouds gently, the drab colors of the peasants scuffling their dirty, sandaled feet. Amy realized with a little quirk of amusement that she was the only redhead there - everybody else seemed to be a blonde or brunette. Not a one of the people of Rohan had black hair, she noticed with confusion. She stroked the proud, arched neck of her palomino horse, feathering her fingers through the coarse, tangled mane. She hadn't spoken a word all day, choosing instead to ride by herself, away from Legolas, Aragorn, Gimli, Gandalf, and Sam. A wave of nausea passed over her again for the second time in as many minutes. She licked her lips dryly and her forehead began to break out in a strange sweat. She decided she was coming down with something. She swallowed hard, trying to battle her rising gorge, and buried her face in the mane of her horse, inhaling the sweet scent of hay and wild air.
Sam noticed her friend's slightly green face, shuddering body, and sweaty face. She wondered if she was going to be sick. Amy dismounted inelegantly, slithering down the side of the horse and bolting into the bushes. A few Rohirric women turned and looked sympathetically, but other than that she drew no attention. A few minutes later, she emerged, still holding her belly. Sam could have sworn she heard a groan, but over the marching of feet and the murmured noises, she couldn't be absolutely sure. Amy remounted her horse clumsily, making a face as she dug her heels into its sides. The horse began trotting once more, jostling Amy slightly as the redhead pulled away from the group. Sam wondered distantly what had happened. All this was driven from her mind when she heard the shriek of a woman, loud and wailing, ripple down the long procession of people. Aragorn was running down a nearby hill, hand on his sword, dark eyes flashing instantly to Theoden. "Wargs!" he cried. "Wargs, on the hill!"
Panic gripped the people of Rohan, and children began screaming. Women gathered their terrified children close to their breast, hiding behind wagons and horses as Theoden issued orders. "Eowyn! Bring the women and children to Helm's Deep!" he roared. "Now! Do as I say!" Eowyn gathered her skirts in her hands and began chivvying the women and children along, gathering stray girls and soothing hysterical mothers. The women and children began running for it, away from the men of Rohan who began unsheathing weapons. Amy dithered for a split second, unsure of what to do. Legolas whirled around, arrow notched to his bow, and glared at Amy. Without a word, he slapped the flank of her horse hard with the flat of his hand.
"Go!" he ordered, and Amy was nearly upended as the horse bolted, muscles flexing as it charged towards the mob of screaming women. Amy held on for dear life as the horse jarred her harshly, teeth knocking together, lips bloodying as she bit down on them. Risking a glance behind her, she felt her stomach drop.
Orcs, their slimy, slightly scaly bodies glistening with white war paint, were riding on gigantic furry animals. The wolves - or whatever they were - had a ridge of fur rising from their pointed ears to their stubby tail. A powerful barrel chest and tapered hind legs made them perfect for bulling into horses. A squashed muzzle, jagged yellow fangs, and ropes of saliva were all Amy was able to see before Eowyn caught her horse's halter. A child was placed in Amy's lap, and then another behind her. Confused, bewildered, Amy instinctively held the two children closer to her as she searched frantically for Sam. "Sam!" she shouted. "Sam, where are you?"
Sam had her dirk in her hand, trying vainly to fend off a warg. The huge fangs were snapping inches from her face, the rider's spear jabbing into the ground near her arms. Sam kept the warg at bay with her forearm, using every ounce of strength she had to keep him away from her vulnerable throat. A mighty paw slammed on her chest, and the air was driven from her lungs. In that same instant, Sam thrust her dirk into the soft belly of the beast, causing it to whimper and roll off her. She curled in a ball, trying to catch her breath, and she heard the whistle of the Orc's spear coming down. She closed her eyes and tensed for the impact.
Whack!
Gimli's axe came crashing through the Orc's body, driving it back two steps and slicing it roughly in half. The Orc looked down blearily at his intestines spilling over his horned feet, and died, collapsing into a puddle of his own blackened blood. Gimli hauled Sam roughly to her feet. "Damn you, lassie!" he shouted gruffly over the din of the battle. "Damn you to Mordor! Why the hell do you have to stay with the men, eh? Why can't you be smart and go with the women for once?"
Sam ignored the dwarf, and wriggled out of his grip, still panting. Adrenaline was thrumming through her system, making her feel alive. She had never felt this good. She sprang into battle again, knife smeared hideously with blood, and stabbed a warg in the flank. The creature yelped and wheeled around, teeth snapping for her shoulder, only to have both of Sam's boots connecting with it's neck. The Orc was trapped underneath the thrashing warg, and Sam put both of the writhing creatures out of their misery with a swift slash with her dirk. Everything was super sensitive - she could hear everything, smell everything, feel everything. Tiny details that would normally escape her jumped to high focus: the bristled hide of the warg carcass, the encrusted blood on the Orc's blade, the tinny shouts of the panicked women down the road, the squeal of horses.
She felt a gnarled paw scraped across the nape of her neck, fisting a handful of her tunic as she was jerked upwards. Mercilessly, she was thrown over the back of a warg, a gritty elbow digging into the small of her back. Her dirk was pinned to her side, and was wrested from her hand by a snarled Orc who was keeping her in place. She bit the warg savagely, filling her nostrils with the acrid stench of rotting fur. The Orc suddenly yelped and fell off the warg, and the pressure on her back vanished. She sat up, struggling for control on the bucking warg, and grabbed it by the ears. Behind her, she saw Aragorn tangled in the straps of the harness, scrabbling to free his boot. She slashed at the thick leather which was ensnaring her friend, and between the two of them they managed to get him free.
But it was too late. Warg, girl, and king were vaulted into space, borne aloft by nothing at all, the churning river beneath them a mere ribbon of white rapids.
09
The burn of chlorine in her eyes. Echoes of children laughing. The tightness of her horrid purple bathing suit. The gritty feeling of concrete beneath her fingers as she gripped the edge of the pool, kicking in the water. Ducking her head beneath the waves and blowing bubbles, accidentally swallowing a mouthful of water. Emerging, coughing, spluttering...
The world was icy cold, airless, wet...
Lizzie's disparaging laugh, Amy's confident strokes through the pool. Sam, struggling to keep her head above water...
Struggling to breathe...
Amy's pink water wings keeping her aloft, Lizzie dabbling a toe in the shallow end. Sam pushing herself hard through the water, determined to best her friends...
Head aching, blood seeping from a wound...
Green-yellow water, smooth pool waves pushing her through the water, hauling herself, dripping wet, on the edge of the pool...
Fingers scrabbling for purchase on a slick boulder...
Breathless, diving back into the invitingly warm water, holding her nose as she was in midair for a few scant moments...
Foamy water churning around her, hard sticks catching her tunic, falling beneath the waves again...
Light...
Blackness...
09
Amy swung herself off the horse with limited success, cradling the children close to her chest. A small golden haired boy was crying at her knees, and a girl no older than four was burying her face in Amy's neck. Amy shifted her position to better carry the little girl, keeping her balanced on one hip. She gripped the little boy's hand to keep in safe in the thronging people entering Helm's Deep, the hubbub of noise, people shouting for lost loved ones. The horse behind the odd trio whinnied a little, rearing slightly at the noise. Amy looked behind her fearfully, then strained to see any glimpse of Eowyn. The brave shieldmaiden would know what to do with the young children. And then she spotted Eowyn, her hands full of children, leading several mothers down the hill. Before Amy could go to her, a curly-haired woman rushed over to her. "Oh, thank the Valar!" the woman said, pressing her daughter to her chest. "Oh, Sunniva, I thought I'd lost you!" The woman kissed her daughter repeatedly, and then gave Amy a tight, hard, frantic hug. "Bless you! Bless you for keeping my daughter safe!"
She returned the hug awkwardly, watching the woman dart through the crowds on their way to the caves. Amy picked up the small boy, hefting him slightly, bouncing him on her hip. She instinctively kissed him on the head, holding him close as she waited for Eowyn to be level with her. The shieldmaiden was helping three other women carry a makeshift litter, and Amy saw a bleeding woman prone on the surface. "Eowyn! Eowyn, what do I do with -" Amy gestured towards the crying boy. Eowyn went white.
"This is his mother," She said, shouting over the hubbub. "Amy, take care of him. Get to the caves, hurry! We've no time to lose!"
Amy felt the crowd pushing her forward, the people of Edoras thrusting into a cold, hard, unforgiving world where children were orphaned and friends were ripped apart by powers unknown.
