The Battle of the Pelennor Fields

The Cosair ships drew closer and closer to us down the Anduin. The quiet cracks of sails and sound of a prow slicing through water were louder than what was expected of such a ship; but they were in the service of the dark lord and had nothing to fear. Aragorn, Gimli and Legolas stared as they passed, and I turned my head in the general direction as well. Not exactly the best way to hear them, but would make me look like I had intentions.

"You may go no further." Aragorn commanded them as they sailed past. "You will not enter Gondor." The Cosiar's, who had already been laughing, began to whoop and jeer. Some fell into hysterics. "Who are you to deny us passage?" The man whom I assumed to be the captain sneered.

"Legolas, fire a warning shot past the bosun's ear." Aragorn whispered. Legolas nodded. "Mind your aim." Gimli grunted. The idiot, Legolas didn't need to mind his ai..There was a knock as Gimli hit the elfs bow when he fired. There was a thunk into bone and a cry of pain as it hit the man next to the captain. Gimli muffled his mouth and began to giggle. I probably would have said something sarcastic if I wasn't still shaken by the ghosts, which I assumed were right behind us. Though I cannot see, I could feel the glare radiating off Legolas in the dwarfs direction.

"That's right, we warned you." Gimli told the ship-men. "Prepare to be boarded."

"Boarded?" the captain laughed, setting the crews off again. "By you and whose army?" Bad question. "This army." Aragorn said matter-of-factly. I don't know what the ghosts did just then, but I assumed they ran forward and attacked the crew. I went cold, as what I assumed were the spectres passed through. I shivered. I HATED them.

It was massacre. I shrugged and followed my friends into the fray, leaving my darts to be. They weren't good for close distance ranges, even though my quiver was full. Instead I pulled out my long knife, and another shorter one 7 or 8 inches long. I hacked and slashed with the longer one, and stabbed a few men with the shorter. I felt a little sick. These were horrible good-for-nothing pirates, but they were humans with lives all the same. At times I had to cross block with my knives, or kick their legs out from underneath them before they landed a blow. There was no such thing as playing fair in a fight. Twice I used my darts, once to save Aragorn from a particularly large man I heard coming from behind him, and another on a random. With the ghosts assistance, it was over in minutes. Valar, even now I had fought alongside them they still scared the rith out of me.

There is not much to say of the aftermath. We sailed down the Anduin at a great speed; each of us in charge of a different boat for all the Cosair's had been killed; and the ghosts being ghosts were obviously unable. In the solitude of the boat, I took the time to think. I pondered on my recent emotions and such, but found myself getting frustrated at not finding a legitimate answer. So again, I put it aside for a different time.

I heard the noises of battle a long time before the others did, but I warned them all the same. The normal clashing and screams of pain appeared to be punctuated by some other things though; namely several massive poundings. After sifting through my knowledge, I concluded that they were Mumakil, or Oliphaunt's as they were also known. There was also a scream of a Nazgul; the wraiths, or at least a wraith, must be there. Still not as terrifying as our new army though.

I took the time at the tiller to clear my mind. I usually did this before every battle- Helm's Deep had been an exception due to the lack of time. I breathed in and out slowly and deeply as possible. I relaxed my muscles and checked my weapons. Stretched my legs out a bit so they wouldn't cramp up. My injured leg had not been giving me much trouble, and the limp the healer had warned me about did not affect me. In fact, it was so faint I had hardly noticed about. There were more pressing problems.

The problem itself was of course my lungs. I could sprint, though it probably wasn't wise to do it for over 50 meters; I shouldn't need to sprint anyway I decided, this was a battle. I was going to need stamina. I would have to avoid using my sword, a horrible weapon anyway. Then there was of course the trouble with flying. It was by far the most useful thing I could do, but I couldn't do it. I could glide at a snail's pace, but that left me open to arrows, bolts, basically anything that could be shot. Not a wise idea, especially with a brigade of orcs and Haradrim running about. Considering the presence of a Mumakil there were bound to be those from Harad. Then there were of course, the Mumakil. My normal flying height in battle was around the top of their legs- a perfect target for the riders above. But if I could glide from Oliphaunt to Oliphaunt… an idea began to formulate itself in my head. Yes, I decided, that's exactly what I would do.

I sat at the tiller now, enjoying the self- induced calm and peace. We were approaching the pier in a few minutes, the boats travelling swifter than any horse ever could. There was a scuffling coming from the pier though, accompanied by a smell. Ah, of course. There would be a party of Orc's waiting for the pirates to arrive. "There are Orc's on the pier." I told the others. "Be prepared." They acknowledged with grim grunts of agreement.

We all docked our ships as well as we could, which for a bunch of who I assumed, were new to this, was quite well. Now that we had arrived the beasts made no attempt at silence. "Late as usual pirate scum." The head roared. "There's knife work here that needs to be done. Come on yeh' sea rats! Get off yar ships!" We all hopped down from our respective vessels.

"There's plenty for both of us." Gimli muttered to Legolas "May the best dwarf win!" I nodded, before leaning toward them. "Count me in. I didn't finish last time." Nothing better than a nice game to lighten a battle. Maybe, I actually had no experience in a game like this.

"Nice to meet you too." Legolas politely told the Orc's confusing them. Pulling out our weapons, we attacked.

I chose my trustworthy darts. "1, 2, 3.." I counted to myself as I pulled out a dagger and stabbed the Orc to my side. "4.." I could not see the dead, or even hear them that well, but I did hear their victims. There were screams as the muffled thump of bodies fell to the ground behind us. It was once again, a blood bath.


We fought our way through the host, until at last we reached a battlefield. Had I not been caught up in fighting, I would have previously realised that the Eorlingas had retreated a little away from our ships; they must have been quite obvious from the river, the Rohirrim not realising that we were not of Umbar. Through the shouts and screams of men I heard the words "The Cosiars of Umbar! Look! They are coming! Belfalas, Ethir and Lebennin are gone. They are upon us. It is the last stroke of doom!" And some cried "Back to the walls!," blowing trumpets and horns in retreat. Thankfully the wind that had sped the ships so fast down the Anduin also carried the clamour away. The wind, I realised. It could be used to my advantage.

But then the Rohirrim must have seen us, and possibly an army at our back. We were out of the paths of the dead, safe and borne down the Anduin to Gondor ; and their mirth took hold in the renewed slashing of swords and the ringing of advance from horns. It seemed as if Mordor's host was seized by bewilderment and wizardry, because their own ships were filled with their foes. That I must say, is probably the most affect we ourselves had on the battle. The renewed hope of the Rohirrim and the bewilderment of the enemy is what turned the tables. Though no matter the effect it had, we still fought our hearts out.

For the second time in so many minutes, we barrelled toward the host of the enemy. Gimli and Aragorn both had their close range weapons out, Legolas and I our long range choices. There was an immediate scuffle as we entered the thick of things, confusion settling upon us. I pulled out a dart, sticking the orc in front to me in the brain before throwing it at the one behind. But there were Southron's and Easterling's by the score, and they were much harder to kill than the simple minded beasts. I began using my darts to pick those off. "Seventeen, eighteen, nineteen, twenty, twenty-one…" I muttered to myself keeping score. I needed to uphold my pride, and I was not losing to an elf or a dwarf. I heard Gimli hacking away beside me, whirling around with precision. Each heavy blow made a crack that sounded the death of another foe. I smirked at Gimli muttering under his breath, skipping straight from seventeen to twenty-nine. I also heard Legolas muttering under his breath. He was only on eighteen, but at least he played fair.

Aragorn began to slash and twirl away from us, heading toward where I could hear Eomer and a group of men fighting. "To death!" he cried. "Ride from ruin and the worlds end!" At the end of that sentence I pulled out a dagger and threw it at an oncoming troll, hitting it with a squelch in the eye. At least I think it was a troll- it may have been some other lumbering beast, I didn't have time to check- but it was a waste of a good dagger.

Gradually we began to split away from each other, myself getting closer to where Eomer, Aragorn and some others fought whilst the others went other ways. "Current total, forty-two." I shouted at Legolas who was about ten meters away from me in the clamour. I heard his grunt of reply. "Thirty- eight." Gimli was too far away to query for his score.

I reached back into my quiver, to find only one dart left. In a split second decision I decided not to use it, ducking under a Haradrim's sword just after. Picking a tiny knife from my belt, I plunged it into his chest with a twinge of regret. I had walked among the people of Harad, not even being stared at; there were more people with hidden faces there. And whilst they were violent and were working with the enemy, they were still husbands and fathers, doing what they thought best for their families and country. Actually, I thought randomly as many tend to do in battle, they could've proven to be allies if Sauron hadn't got to them first. That thought was quickly dashed as I swayed away from an Easterling's weapon, elbowing him on the head before stabbing his neck with my long knife. I had pulled that out now, along with a shorter knife for the handy cross-block and stab. It was a useful method.

Soon I found myself being engulfed in a circle of warriors- the very circle which Aragorn and Eomer were in, in fact. Along with them there were four other men. "Dernhelm!" I heard Eomer yell as a warning. The man beside me twisted and stabbed an orc that died with a screech. Twist and stab, that wasn't a common technique here…

"Eowyn." I whisper shouted. "Is that you?" The 'man' coughed deepening 'his' voice. "Yes." I quickly sliced an orcs head off with my large knife before stabbing a Haradrim under the ribs with the shorter. "Nice work on the twist and stab. You're a natural, but remember to come up from the bottom." A handy technique I had found a few centuries ago was sweeping the sword up from the bottom and cutting through the middle. You could then pull it out and decapitate another.

No doubt Eowyn was disobeying her uncle and cousin to be in this battle, but I was glad she was. Unlike many of the 'so much stronger' old men and boys she could wield a sword, and was actually a natural. I felt a twinge of sorrow and jealousy. With just a year's worth of proper training Eowyn would probably grow to be a sword-master(or mistress?), although it had taken me about two-thousand years to get to the level I was at. No matter.

Slowly the pair of us moved away from the main group, grimly killing everything that came upon us. I found my breath was growing a little shaky, but with a few controlled breaths it got back to normal. I quickly changed my hand position, stabbing and orc I heard behind me, while Eowyn stabbed the one in front through the ribs. I then brought my longer knife on the helm of another, cleaving its skull. We made an excellent team, watching each-others backs(in a sense). Several times we had do dive out of the way of thundering Mumakil or rogue horses, and several times we got separated only to find ourselves back to back again. It reminded me of the blood-brothers of old, the two of them against the world.

I heard and felt a Mumak change direction and come towards us. "Left!" I shouted at Eowyn, who immediately understood. In the little amount of time we had been fighting together, we had already come up with our own kind of language, that told each other the directions. "Behind!" Eowyn yelled as I came out from a roll between a Easterling's legs, stabbing him in the back. I twirled around and hacked another in his side.

"Are my senses messing up, or are the weapons bigger and the armour thicker here?" I asked her. "They are," she confirmed for me "a lot of them are using those buggers, the thick curved ones." I elbowed a Haradrim in the gut, but he still managed to gouge Eowyn's leg a little. She cursed like a sailor. I cross-blocked his counterpart, my hands vibrating as I felt his blade dig into mine. Bugger indeed. I slipped the smaller knife out and tried to stab his chest hard and fast with it, and the knife broke. I had to admit, if these men of Harad made one good thing, it was armour. I kicked him under the ribcage and left him for another. It was time to forget darts and knives, and use my sword.

"Cover me." I told Eowyn quickly, who surrounded me with whirls of her blade. Swiftly, I stowed away the knives and pulled out my sword, chucking my cloak and hood in my quiver while I was at it. They got in the way of sword-work.

"Off." I told her, and I straight out sliced a- was that a wildman?- in half. "That was one of our allies," Eowyn shouted over the ruckus "we employed a few of the prisoner's as spies and soldiers." Oops, I should've observed more. I was rattled from my speculation by swinging my single edged sword at an orcs neck, then flicking my wrist and decapitating another. The swing carried through a little, before I brought it up from the ground hitting an Easterling in the hip. If he survived he would never walk again. By Eru, swords were impractical.

Somehow, we found ourselves by Aragorn again. "Darke," he nodded "Dernhelm." The pounding of an Oliphaunt drew near us, the screams of men betraying its deadly sweeping tusks. "Legolas!" Aragorn cried, just as I heard the familiar twang of his bow. Instead of running to us however, from the rattle of his quiver I could tell he was running toward the Mumak. Was he crazy?

But him running to the Oliphaunt reminded me of the theory I had thought up on the boats. I asked both Aragorn and Eowyn behind me "Do you mind if I leave for a bit?" I felt Aragorn's hair on the back of my neck as he shook his head. "I can hold my own." Eowyn said. I followed Legolas, jogging toward the Mumak. I could hear him atop the beast, and there was a thunderous crash as the basket on top fell. Now when the beast falls…

The beast fell to the ground shaking the earth and creating a massive gust of air. This is what I took advantage of. I unfurled my wings and flapped just as the flurry reached me, my wings catching the air, and I was taken high into the sky. "That still only counts as one!" I heard Gimli yell from below. "Forty- one.." wow, Legolas was getting slower, though my irritating heart still fluttered. I was already on my fifty-eighth. I still hadn't found out Gimli's score yet.

The second I was in the air I heard the whistles of arrows go past me. However, I could observe what was going on a lot further here. I heard the solid thump of another Mumak going silently down, probably the work of the ghosts. The attackers in the city seemed to be randomly silenced as well, telling me the dead were overrunning the city. No matter, I was in the air to be useful, not an archery target.

I glided downwards at a shallow angle, making my way towards a line of Mumakil. I would have to judge when to bring my sword up perfectly, but I flew in storms for Valar's sake. Moving away from an Oliphaunt was not harder than swerving away from lightning. My speed accelerated a little as I got further down, heading straight for the animal. A shadow fell on me as I passed under its neck, bringing up my sword and piercing its throat. A little blood sprayed on me but it didn't mean crisis. I angled myself up a bit, straining my side slightly, but that also didn't matter. I landed on the side of the beast and cut the straps holding the war towers atop. Thank-you Legolas for that genius idea, you reminded me that they may have had a soft landing otherwise. Anon, I used the air to lift me up and send me gliding to the next dodging several missiles as I glided. And anon I repeated the previous procedure. I spat down on the ground below, Oliphaunt blood on my mouth.


The next time, I was distracted. I heard Eowyn's voice ring loud and clear over the battlefield. "You will not touch him!" she said firmly but boldly, "For I am no living man! I am Eowyn, Eomund's daughter, and you stand between my lord and my kin!" But that was not what shook me, but the scream of the fell beast. It was high pitched and loud. My ears could barely take the noise, and I momentarily went deaf. I sensed the Oliphaunt in front of me, and just in time turned on my side so that my shoulder hit it. Yet the back of my tunic snagged on the harness- I did not fall to the ground, instead hearing every word from below, over the screams of stampeding feet.

There was a current of fowl smelling air as the beast beat its wings. But Eowyn did not back down; instead I heard a xing and crack as her blade severed its neck, it head and body falling do the dust. The Nazgul let out a shriek that burnt the ears like venom, suddenly something wooden shattered. There was a cry of pain from Eowyn just millisecond's after- maybe her shield was hit? It would make sense.

I heard the whistle as the Nazgul raised his mace, then the thump as it shrieked and fell to its knees. The stroke fell wide off its mark. I could hear a soft tottering but she quietly announced "I am no man," before there was a clang of metal and a high pitched shrieking sound as the wraith came to nothingness. "Eowyn, Eowyn!" I heard the voice of a familiar hobbit cry. There was a clang as she fell atop her foe.

"Eowyn!" I yelled. She couldn't be dead, she just couldn't. "EOWYN!" I yelled again, louder this time, my lungs stinging. I had heard her fall over, she could just be exhausted. But then this was a wraith, a Nazgul of Sauron- almost impossible to kill. I completely forgot I was hanging off the edge of a Mumak, only my tunic keeping me on. It was a mistake.


Within seconds I had to forget my friend's probable death, and deal with the task at hand. The harness moved as someone slid down it to investigate me. "Well what do we have here?" A heavily accented Haradric voice whispered in my ear. I struggled around, failing to get anywhere; if only I could fall then snap open my wings. I felt a warm blade at my throat. "Goodnit." The man said, not even pronouncing the word properly. Thankfully for me, instinct kicked in. My gloved fist delivered him a nice uppercut to the face that sent him tumbling down to the hoards below.

I used my brain to unhook myself from the harness, and I began to climb up. With the state of my lungs, flying was not an option. Then of course, I reached the top. Not too bad, apart from the fact that there was a war tower with highly skilled Haradric warriors on it whose curiosity had already been aroused enough to send one of their own down there. Whom they probably saw and heard me kill. I was correct of course. I managed to get my balance on top of the beast, then began to cut through the strap when I was confronted by four.

Normally four Hadarim warriors would be a challenge to me, but I could take them down. However, we were on top of an Oliphaunt, I was using my worst weapon and the Hadarim knew how to fight like this. Not the greatest of odds. They didn't even spend time talking- even though I could speak Hadaric quite well due to my travels. I greeted them as they attacked me to through them off guard. It worked on one, whom I stabbed in the throat the second they let their guard down. The other three were more difficult. They came upon me at once, leaving me to fend off four blades. One of the warriors must have been wielding two.

However, more could play at that game. I would like to say right now, that I do not fight fairly, and will use almost any means to achieve success. I flicked out my wings sending them stumbling back, giving me time to pull my long knife out again. Warrior one as I decided to call him, came back with a nifty feint to the side, then aiming for the legs. I deflected it then kicked him in the knee. I promptly beheaded him, whilst snapping out my right wing hard, giving warrior three a full body blow. This move however made me lose balance and stumble back a few steps. I was dangerously close to falling off the edge as the beast lurched, and was unable to save myself. My wings would only assist me well if I wanted to glide straight or down, not back up. I used the cross block and stabbed warrior two in the gut blocking warrior three's way with my wing. He swung his swords at it, but they just glanced off. Nothing much more than a sting, thank-you Melkor(not). The death of warrior two gave me the relief needed to step forward again, regaining some balance. I remembering my wings were hard to harm I put them out then quickly turned. Warrior three was scooped up and went flying before I heard a sickening crunch amongst the few adversaries left.

The only other person left upon the Mumak was the driver- she could go down with the ship I decided. The sound of her gasps and squeals as she watched the fight made me assume she was female anyway. A pity- female war people were rare, and I did not want to kill her. But it was for the greater good. I swayed and tipped along the spine of the Mumak before plunging my sword into the back of its skull.

The rest was a blur after that. I took down one more Oliphaunt by jumping off the top of the third; with the help of a few ghosts I think, but of course I couldn't be sure. They still scared me as well. I then went around solo, killing the stragglers. They were easy- some of the men even asked for death. There was one whom I gave mercy to- he made me smirk. He was convinced I was some sort of god and wanted to be my servant. I refused, telling him to bury what comrades he could, then go back to Harad and tell his people never to ally with Sauron again- it would only lead to the death of his people, and Sauron was planning to kill us all anyway. I told him all of this in his own language though, further convincing him. I needed something to lighten my mood.

I could hear Aragorn talking to the army of the dead a few hundred meters away. I decided against going to him- the army was downright terrifying. Instead I pulled out my cloak and hood- smelling of Mumak blood- and asked Eomer if there was anything I could do. He put me with a group of soldiers to check for the living.

All in all, it was a very eventful day.


A/N- YAY! FFR please:) Thank-you everyone who has so far.