Chapter 12
My vision was a blur, I was running on pure adrenaline.
"I'm on seventeen!" Legolas called to Gimli.
"Argh! I'll have no pointy-ear outscoring me!" Gimli screamed back.
"Nineteen!"
"Is this really the time?" I intervened while gutting an orc. In that few seconds, an orc pinned me to the floor.
"I'm going to have fun snapping your pretty, little neck," he smiled menacingly.
"You're quite the charmer, but I'll have to refuse," I drove my knees in to his stomach and used the momentum to kick him away from me, I flipped over to land roughly on my knees.
"Where did you learn to do that?" Gimli drove his axe into the orc.
"A woman fights differently from a man."
"And how is that?"
"How am I supposed to know? I've never been a man before," I deflected a blow meant for the dwarf.
"Are you sure about that?"
"Oh, shut up."
***
Dodge. Slice. Spin. Slice.
They were overwhelming, a sea of nightmares.
"Look out!" I jumped in front of a sword meant for Gimli. The blade dug deep in to my skin, tearing through the flesh on my left shoulder. Blood gushed out like a waterfall and my brain couldn't think straight.
Through blurred eyes, I barely managed to see Gimli unleashing his rage on the orcs and falling into a vengeful bloodlust. A sharp wind felt like salt on the gash, I was in so much pain, I couldn't even scream.
"Get her to safety!" Aragorn yelled from a distance. A solider, a young, brave boy, pulled me up carefully, he struggled to move us, my weight was lagging him. But he wouldn't give up. My vision got blurrier, sweat formed on my forehead, my eyelids fluttered to stay open.
An orc attacked us, the little blonde boy had only one hand available. I stumbled out of his grip and tried to hit the orc with the hilt of my sword. He caught my slow hand, and squeezed it tight, adding to my pain. The boy took the chance to stab in the gut.
I tried to nod my thanks but head felt so heavy, I swayed lightly, my eyes rolled back into my head and I felt another sharp pang of pain as my back hit the floor.
***
I moaned at the uncomfortableness of the bed I was in. My eyes opened for a bunch of distinct, pale dots hovering above me. I blinked a few times, waiting patiently for my vision to clear.
Many pale, blonde women stared down at me, some in amazement, some in fear. I slowly sat up, trying to ignore my pounding headache. A mother embraced her children in a corner, looking at me with hostility. Éowyn pushed through the crowd, she scanned me quickly, and her face showed no emotion.
"What is it?" I asked. No one answered. "What's wrong?" I asked again. Silence again.
Boom. Boom. Boom.
The battle. My arm stretched for my sword and that's when I noticed the blood. My arm was covered in dried red, my eyes moved up to my shoulder. Shakily, I placed a finger on my shoulder, rubbing it and eventually, scratching it.
"What the hell?! This isn't possible!" My arm was exactly as it was before the wound, it even had the circular, black, beauty mark that the sword sliced through. Not an inch of skin was hurt. "Who did this?" I asked the women.
"You," said a Éowyn replied with cold, blue eyes.
"M-me? B-but..."
Boom. Boom. Crash.
"You should go," she shoved the sword into my arms. I tried not to feel hurt as I exited the cave.
"Where's the boy?" I turned back.
"He's dead."
I took a shaky breath and tried to control my emotions.
"What was his name?"
"Tama, he was my son," one of the women answered.
I couldn't look her in the eye,"I'm sorry." Feeling extremely dejected, I left the cursed cave.
***
"Dewni?! How? What? Your shoulder," Aragorn ran towards me. "How?"
"I don't know," I paused. "Can we do this another time?" I looked pointedly at the retreating men.
"Yes, but don't even try to avoid my questions," he warned before grabbing my arm and pulling me along.
We ran into a hall, the men already barricading the doors. They pounded against it but they couldn't get in. For the moment.
"The fortress is taken. It is over," the king despaired.
"You said this fortress would never fall while your men defend it! They still defend it! They have died defending it!" Aragorn stubbornly walked in hope. It is in moments like this, I can see the powerful king. "Is there no other way for the women and children to get out of the caves?" Silence. "Is there no other way?" He persisted.
"There is one passage. It leads into the mountains. But they will not get far. The Uruk-hai are too many," Gamling replied.
"Send word for the women and children to make for the mountain pass. And barricade the entrance," he ordered.
"So much death. What can men do against such reckless hate?"
Aragorn paused for a moment. "Ride out with me. Ride out and meet them."
"For death and glory."
"For Rohan. For your people."
"The sun is rising," Gimli announced.
"Yes. Yes! The horn of Helm Hammerhand shall sound in the deep one last time!" Théoden burned with determination.
***
"Let this be the hour when we draw swords together. Fell deeds awake. Now for wrath! Now for ruin! And a red dawn!" The king of Rohan put on his helmet. A deep horn rung with a sweet sound.
"Aren't you getting on the horse?" Aragorn peered down at me.
"I don't know. I feel quite useless, I'd probably get you killed."
"You're not useless. You saved Gimli's life. You may have not had your moment of glory, but it will be upon you. Now, will you ride with me?" He extended his hand.
"I think I will," I smiled and grasped his hand.
"I trust you to have my back," he said as we drew our swords.
"And I will guard it with my life."
"FORTH EORLINGS!" The king led the charge. We galloped without hesitance, our swords sparing no mercy. There were thousands of them and few of us, but if we were to die, we would die fighting.
I've never fought on horse before, and I must admit, my promise to Aragorn was coming dangerously close, but I intended to keep my promise. The morning sun rose with rays of white, giving me a glimmer of hope.
"Gandalf," Aragorn murmured. I followed his gaze to the white wizard, it was as if Gandalf was the sun itself. Behind him an army stood, on a large hill.
"Who are they?"
"The Rohirrim," Aragorn replied with hope.
With loud battle cries, the army raced down the hill with tremendous speed. The joy only increased when the orcs gave cries of terror as the Eorlings' drove their spears into the monstrosities.
With renewed hope and energy, we fought for the soldiers that died, for the children they killed and for the pain and misery they bring. And most of all, it's a rebellion against evil.