~Chapter Twenty Eight~

Breaking Dawn

You Say the Story's Ending,
But I Think It's Time We Stop Pretending.
No, I Can't Let You Turn the Page.

No More Empty Promises;
They Don't Exist, Just Me Out In The Open.
I Know This Will Take Time…

Can We Put the Past Behind Us?

~One Last Chance, by Daughtry

Disclaimer: Me No Own; You No Sue.


Eyes watering again, Eowyn gasped out, shoulders sagging in relief. The weight of the world vanished from her shoulders and in its place, I put my arms. I pulled her closer to me, wrapping her into my warm embrace, and rocked her back and forth, like Seth used to do when I cried out from the nightmares in which Daddy starred, front and center. She sobbed quietly, until the noises faded into the darkness, and only the sound of her breathing and mine filled the air.

Softly, I brushed her hair back behind her ears and then whispered to her a song that haunted me. "'Cold and far away, like you're not even mine, undo everything and take me higher! Never believing what they say, 'cause I'm counting the days to meet you on the other side. I will always be waiting until the day that I see you on the other side. Come and take me home.'"

When Eowyn calmed down, lulled into silence by the weight of her thoughts, I pulled back marginally and turned to stare out the windows, where I could hear birds calling and singing of all the good to come. She turned her head, too, and quietly glanced through the window, into the green distance offered by wide horizon. Red, yellow, orange, and blue streaks painted the night skies with the brilliant colors of dawn. Together, Eowyn and I watched the sun rise again. We clasped hands, arms, and shoulders together and witnessed the dawning of another day.


"By the Valar, I love the sun…"

Smiling gently at the other girl, I leaned backwards, bracing myself to stare through the open window as a ray of sunshine slipped within, warming us. I quietly agreed with her and mumbled something along the lines of Seth being as warm as our sun, whereas I remained cold, dark, and brooding, like the moon. Warmth made it harder to stay awake, but I continued to talk, to tell her of how strange it was to have lived out of his shadow for this long and to be expected to return to hiding in it again. She, as a woman in this time period, could understand, right?

Women were expected to stand silently behind Men…

So why did I not want to be in his shadow?

I wish…

Sleep colored the words, made their meaning much harder to understand, but Eowyn listened intently all the same as strange words of how Men and Women were equal at home slipped out. My mentions of Seth made her stutter softly and blush hotly in embarrassment, which I found to be lovely for her pale skin. Her cheeks lightened almost immediately, however, upon recalling the rather judgmental view I offered to describe myself. She glared at me, annoyed with this assessment, deeming it incorrect.

"You are not Lord Seth and do not have to be within his shadow if you've no wish to be there." Warm brown eyes assessed the surprise and the fears in my own, making her next sentence far gentler when Eowyn softly whispered, "You, like the moonlight, shine brighter than the stars, Sammy."

Blink.

Blink, blink.

What is my purpose?

"Thanks, Eowyn," I whispered, listening to the lack of formality in her voice and easily returning it because I wanted to be her friend. She was the first female that I could tolerate and relate to, speaking thoughts that I usually only shared with Seth and Aragorn. It lightened the heavy burden in my chest to speak – and to listen – to Eowyn.

Wise beyond her years, apparently, Eowyn smiled and patted her hand against mine, before retracting it. My companion yawned quietly into her hand, hugged her form to mine once more, and then silently climbed to her feet, dusting the dirt from her sullied skirts with tired hands. She walked back down the hallway, intent upon gaining early breakfast from the kitchens, but did not travel past the doorway until I caught up. With her silent invitation in mind, I trailed behind her until the point in time that Eowyn chuckled faintly and pulled her hand, which was connected to mine, forward. I tripped down the hall and yelped loudly, caught by surprise, but managed to find balance again upon standing next to her, side by side. Friends…

Smiling tiredly, Eowyn turned another corner and glanced down the suspiciously empty walkway, which carried onward to the Main Hall. Strange voices – ice cold but filled with burning hot anger and fury – leaked down the hallway like black ink. We stared into the abyss, startled at the strange aura of hatred and fear and despair screaming from within its depths, and then warily glanced to one another, unsure of what to do next.

Something…

Something was wrong.

"Oi, Gandalf the Grey is here!" Seth exclaimed loudly, his voice ringing through the hallowed halls, only just audible of the clanking of his boots, armor, and sword. My brother waved his armored hands to us, gesturing to follow him, and darted back down the hallway. Head high. Strong.

"Well, I suppose we're playing Follow-the-Leader, then?" I finally suggested to her, blankly, and staring into the empty space where Seth bounced around just seconds before; Eowyn blinked at the same spot with wide eyes. We slowly glanced at each other and then made haste, darting swiftly down the old tiles to reach the taller blonde.

A soft exasperated breath of air escaped from Eowyn as another nail caught her silk dress in the whirlwind of the chase. "What has happened, Lord Seth?" Eowyn loudly demanded, projecting her voice to be heard above the cry of metal hitting metal, which meant – swords.

Who could possibly be fighting right now…? My brain stuttered through the possible scenarios and resurfaced from the memories of The Lord of the Rings, coming up empty handed, totally lost as to why Gandalf the Grey would be in Edoras. Evil laughter parted the heavy air like knives through butter, and I inhaled sharply. My eyes widened marginally. Unless…!

"The Fellowshits have arrived to take back Edoras!" Seth briskly responded, his military persona rearing its head in that moment. His boots carried him through the hallways at breakneck speeds, which I only managed to copy as a result of the long months spent trekking though the Wild with Aragorn and Co. Eowyn managed to maintain the same speed, but only barely, and with plenty of her time spent gasping for oxygen.

The Shield Maiden opened her mouth to speak but gasped for another breath, clutching the stitch in her side with annoyance. She appeared to be winded; thus, I asked what Eowyn and I clearly wished to know. Purely out of confusion, I raised both eyebrows at him and slowly drawled, "Isn't their arrival in Edoras a good thing, then?"

Green eyes clashed with mine. "Not when Gríma Wormtongue's taken the Staff of Power from the Wizard," Seth grimly stated, his jaw clenched, shoulders stiff with tension, and hair falling around his face like the Fallen Angel I believed him to be.

"What?" Eowyn breathed through her nose and stared at the silent Seth, lost to his meaning as a small, worried frown claimed his lips. A hand darted forward to catch his arm, desperate for answers, and the Shield Maiden begged, "Please! Do you mean that Uncle is in trouble?"

You have changed too much, I fear, Oromë suddenly whispered, his voice nervous and tense, in your endeavor to change nothing at all.

Comprehension immediately illuminated the scared gleam in my eyes.

Gríma!

Blanching, I quickly skidded to a stop, my stiff knees almost buckling with the effort of doing so. My eyes wide with terror, I whirled around and then bolted back down the hallway, from where Seth, Eowyn, and I'd just come. Seth called out to me, panicked, but I waved him and Eowyn off, telling the confused pair that I would meet up with them again in the Main Hall. My eyes were wide with fear but filled with determination. I zipped back through the lightened halls, cursing when I heard the sounds of heavy footsteps – lots of 'em – pounding behind me. I immediately realized that someone was quickly following me. Gritting my teeth, I pushed forward, running harder and faster, like the Devil followed in my wake.

Catch me? Ha!

I smirked with glee.

If I could elude the clutches of Death, then I could elude these idiots!

Yes! I burst into the armory ahead of the mysterious figures chasing me, and I quickly spotted the small collection of confiscated swords, knives, bows, and throwing axes, which all belonged to the members of the Fellowship. I hastily moved the sharp items to the side, though I wished to take one or two and stab Gríma in the eye, and ignored the majority in favor of grabbing the Staff of Power. When the wooden door banged opened, slamming against the wall, I was standing tall and staring straight at him. Poised and ready to fight.

A soldier glared at me, annoyed with this little act of rebellion, his hot golden stare barely visible through the shuttered visor of his protective metal helmet. His left hand, gloved to the elbow and empty of his weapon, reached out to hover in front me. He roughly demanded, "Hand it over!"

"Ha! Not a chance in H-E-Double Hockey Sticks!" I growled back, and the Staff twinkled with raw energy, expelling several red clouds of fiery smoke. My mouth split into a wide smile, pulling at my eyes and making the corners crinkle in delight.

I paused, taking in the seriousness of the situation, and squealed, "…HOLY SHIT, THAT WAS SO COOL!"

Another loud bang followed this exclamation of excitement, making the thought that maybe, just maybe, the Staff could be powered by emotion enter my mind. A sapphire, which rested within an intricately designed enclosure of thin white thorns, twinkled cheerfully at me, a smile hidden within its cocoon. Kinda unnerving, honestly, but whatever! Regardless, I silently cheered for the Staff when it burped out another wave of Magic – thick black fog covered everything in storeroom, from floor to ceiling, within seconds.

"Booyah…!" I whispered, having the sense of mind to remain quiet while I sneaked through the weapons storeroom, searching for the only entrance and exit to its metal innards. It wouldn't do to capture the attention of the enemy. Nope, I needed to bring the Staff to Gandalf.

Speaking of which, I stared down at the Staff, stunned into amazement as another, smaller blue sapphire appeared beside the first, circling around and around and around. A Merry-Go-Round of Magic! Cool!

Loudly, Oromë trumpeted his hunting horn and then bellowed: A Time of Sacrifice is upon us!

WHAT?! I immediately responded, running into the heavy wooden frame surrounding the – open, closed, couldn't tell which – door. Another unladylike yelp escaped from between two parted lips, and I mentally hissed, Dammit, Oromë! What the fuck is going on now?

You must make the first Sacrifice! The Lord of the Hunt proclaimed, pointing his trumpet at the small flame of magic that burned at the top of the magic. I nearly dropped the Staff, fearing the unknown. Your past keeps you scared and holds too tightly to your potential; thus, it must be Sacrificed!

That makes no sense! My face scrunched in confusion. How do I Sacrifice my past…?

LOOK OUT!

Alarmed, Oromë cried out to me, uninterested in answering my question in favor of pointing out the sword aimed for me, to which I raised the Staff, shocked, and watched the thick metal bounce back, reverberating with the aftershocks of the hit. Another cloud of smoke whispered out from within the white thorns of the Staff because of the force of the strike; it burped loudly. Me? Well, I blinked at it and then laughed hysterically with glee, of course!

While the soldier and his newly arrived friends coughed loudly and hacked at the burning of the smoke within their throats, I burrowed further into my dress, covering my nose with the material. It blocked out most of the smoke, keeping the air in my nose and lungs fresh enough that I could breathe without coughing it back up, and I bolted back out of the crazy armory. I swiftly made my way through the halls again, following the sounds of the scuffle because I could not figure out another way to find the Main Hall. Sadly enough, Seth usually helped escort me where I needed to go, as my sense of direction pretty much involved finding the nearest McDonald's. Navigating Edoras? Not so much!

Speaking of the Devil, Seth was currently releasing his frustrations as another Man attempted to touch Eowyn …

"Put 'er down!" Seth bellowed out, sounding like the bull at the Ranch while charging the Man. He snarled and kicked him where it hurt, too, before pushing the smaller girl behind him, where Eowyn would be safe. She looked ready to argue, realized her weaponless state, and then stayed quiet. Grateful for his protection, I guessed. "Touch 'er again, and I'll shove my collection o' knives up yer ass!"

My brother, Ladies and Gentleman, was much like Fíli Oakenshield with his hidden weaponry…

Amused, I snickered and briefly wondered: Does that make me the Kíli to his Fíli, then?

My strange musings, which made traveling back sixty years sound pretty good, suddenly tapered off into awe. You see, not two seconds later, Aragorn and Boromir whipped by my older brother and Gandalf, swiftly throwing punches to the faces, and shoulders, and stomachs of various Men. Legolas also delivered countless punches to his rivals, and Gimli, always the enthusiast, joined the fistfight with his boisterous laughter. His meaty hand slipped out amidst the fray and grabbed Gríma, easily keeping him in place by holding his collared tunic to his face.

A deadly gleam entered his honey brown eyes and made his warm countenance more sinister in appearance. "You and Saruman do not seem so mighty, eh?" Gimli huffed, his ginger beard twitching in different directions because of the weight of his dark smirk of amusement.

"You are all nothing, Dwarf, without your weapons," Gríma nastily hissed between his yellowed teeth and sneered back at him with thin lips upturned, "Least of all the Wizard, who lacks his precious Staff."

"…Oh," I said pleasantly, drawing attention to the fact that I walked through the Main Hall with nothing but a smile, light dress, and – the Staff of Power.

Heir of Manwë…

Only He would choose a stubborn and opinionated creature to carry a portion of his Magic and become his Vessel.

Dramatically making my entrance, I stepped out of the familiar shadows and into the midst of the suddenly paralyzed contenders of the brawl; Aragorn stopped mid punch to stare at me. "Ya'll wouldn't happen to be talkin' about this ol' Staff, would ya now?"

"Lady Sammy," Gríma snarled, taken aback by the sudden change in posture and accent that I let slip through the cracks, looking like it was expected but surprising all the same. How strange. "I command that the Staff be returned to me!" His filthily wrapped hands darted out to reach for its white handle. "…Give it here, wench!"

An innocent smile painted itself upon my mouth and within the glow of the ice blue irises staring straight at him; then, I stepped forward until I could hand it over without stretching too far, but remaining just out of his reach, and sweetly said, "If you insist…"

The Fellowship all called out for me in stunned horror, thinking that I would truly hand the Staff of Power to Gríma Wormtongue, and started for me. Gandalf, however, successfully restrained the Men, Elf, and Dwarf by placing his long arm out in front of the horrified people I'd finally come to admire, trust, and love. Rejection was painful back in Fangorn Forest, but I think I needed it to stay sane, to be ready for this moment in time, where I would be expected to…

Sacrifice. You must Sacrifice your past for Hope. He is the Future. He is YOUR Future.

"Hold, I say," Gandalf murmured, his ancient blue eyes on mine, as if reading slowly through what could be whispering in my mind. I smiled widely at him, unafraid of his perusal of the thoughts, worries, and fears inside of me. His shoulders dropped with relief, and Gandalf nodded back at me, respectfully almost.

Jerking it backwards and raising it upwards, I started to channel the burning energy inside me, a sensation of fire and brimstone echoing in my veins, muscles, and bone. Both Heaven and Hell screamed from within me. I observed his face, haggard and wild eyed with fear like my own, and screamed, "Take it, then!"

I slammed the heavy weapon into his forehead, making the skin split open and explode with red blood. Blue eyes wide, startled, stared down, first at the bloodied white weapon in my palm, and then toward the bloodied, soulless shell of Gríma Wormtongue. He was slumped backed into the pillar, forehead partially missing and crimson rivers flowing into his eyes and nostrils. No sight. No breath. No pulse bounced in his throat. Gríma was gone.

Oh, God! I… My stomach clenched and unclenched repeatedly, threatening to spill its contents all throughout the Main Hall, where I ended the life of another human being. …I killed him…

"Come to my side, Wizard and Warrior – Samantha, Heir of Manwë, and Seth, Heir of Tulkas!" Gandalf cried, while walking forward and holding his hand out to me as another step pulled him further toward King Théoden.

When I rushed forward to hand him the Staff of Power, though, Gandalf reached down to curl his fingers around mine, instead. Seth also darted forward, hearing his own name and title called, and slipped his hand in the Wizard's right one. We glanced at each other, nodded and smiled, prepared to do anything in our power to help win this battle.

"Release him, Melkor…!" Gandalf snarled at him.

Death is here.

Magic exploded from within the Staff of Power. Green waves colored Seth in the glow of the Warrior, bathing his scars in magical glow, whereas the blue light of the Wizard cascaded down my small form, filling the scars, cracks, and crevices left by weapons on my pale skin. Glancing to Seth, I could vividly make out a sun rune carving itself into his tanned forehead. A crescent moon, small and blue, etched itself into my own. We stared straight at each other, taking little notice of Gandalf, who removed his hands from ours, and pushed empty hands together, and smiled.

Sammy. My mind drifted back through the conversations of earlier this morning, when Eowyn smiled at me and whispered her words of truth. You shine brighter than the stars.

"Rebirth," Seth and I breathed together, touching both foreheads together, letting the sun and the moon meet, becoming one. We turned. We breathed in. We raised the Staff of Power, holding it within his hands and mine, and then the music started. A guitar, drums, and pounding bass.

Voice deep, Seth huskily started, "'Rebirthing now, I wanna live for love, wanna live for you and me.'" And I raised mine to carry in and above his. "'Breathe, for the first time now.'" We both closed blue eyes, green eyes, mouths, and finished, "'Tell me when I'm gonna feel inside. Tell me when this fear will end! Tell me when I'm gonna feel inside.'"

Silence reigned, but I smiled softly upon opening my eyes and seeing Aragorn staring at me, a strangely tender expression painted to his face. I stared straight into his eyes, singing only to him, and whispered, "'…Tell me when I'll feel alive…'"

Light exploded from the hidden depths of the crystals that rested within the intricately carved top of the staff. Dark blue, for the night and the moon, and light green, a color that symbolized the warmth of the grass under the sun. It projected sparks, symbols of musical signs and stars, and then Seth and I noticed it – Sammy and Seth, about sixteen years old, raced through the fields, Stardust and Arrow racing neck and neck for the lead. Laughter filled the night air. Daddy raised his fists. We screamed. It started again. Rewind. Repeat.

Gasps and yells of shock, surprise, and confusion sounded from right behind Seth, who remained strongly at my side, always the protector. We ignored the sounds of their fear, their disgust, their mistrust, and just stared at the Magic, in awe, as we realized –

We could return to…

…Earth.

"It's a portal, Twin!" I breathed in answer as a silent question filled his jade irises. Stunned, I was stunned at just the thought, the possibility, of such amazing Magic being real, and then I reached out to touch it with trembling fingers.

My pale hand stopped, however, just shy of the rippling edges. It looked like the enchanted opal waters calmly flowing in the Magical Mirror of Lothlórien. Pretty, I remembered, but filled with the horrors of the future, the future that would eventually become a reality if I left. Or would it? I stared at Seth, confused and conflicted, and could read the indecision in his eyes as well. Use the magic to help free King Théoden, closing the portal and remaining here, forever? Or going back to Earth, changing what could have been and starting over?

Which path shall the Chosen Ones take…?

"…Samantha!"

"Seth…!"

Unresponsive, Seth and I stared straight ahead, into the midst of the swirling memories within portal, and remembered all of the pain, the hardships that we endured before coming here. We were just as pained and troubled here, it seemed – the difference, however, was our support of and from the people who cared about us, a magical feeling of affection that made everything much easier to overcome. I inhaled and lifted both hands together, palms up in a practiced motion of spellcasting that Seth copied without too much trouble. We stubbornly shoved, pushing the force forward and expelling the open vacuum within the portal, focusing the incredibly raw magic behind its gates. Toward Théoden.

"You dare battle against me?" The Wraith smirked down at us and whispered, "Chosen by God, yet you've little power to speak of!" He sneered, and I realized that this was not Saruman, but a minion of the Wraith, of Death. "You will not expel from him my spirit." Evil laughter. "In fact, I shall send the little Chosen Ones back from whence they came – straight back to Mandos!"

Magic started to shove back at us, making the portal loom closer and closer to us, a warning that something sinister would happen should Seth and I travel back in time, to Earth. We were meant to be here, in Middle Earth, and refused to give up! We panicked momentarily, knowing that it would swallow us whole, and pushed harder, forcing it to open up and devour Melkor. The Wraith vanished with not another word. A wisp of smoke signaled his departure.

Too soon, though, Saruman appeared without further ado and shoved Seth into the pillar nearest the throne. I screamed, caught completely off guard, and bolted toward him, panicking when the broken remains of the shattered portal shifted and formed the barrier that parted Twins. Gandalf jumped forward, removing the Staff of Power from my closed palms, and confronted the White Wizard. He bravely ignored his coldhearted taunts and promptly removed his older cloak; it burst forth with the incredible light of Gandalf the White.

"Ah!" Théoden painfully cried out at the feeling of his magic coursing through his veins, before hissing out the words spoken by Saruman, who commandeered his body for his own as a master puppeteer. He snarled out again and reminded: "You will kill him, too, if I fall from this skin!"

"The Wizard and the Warrior removed the Wraith from his body, and I shall follow in their brave steps, removing your poison from within him, too," Gandalf quietly insisted, leaning over us to shove his Staff forward. Lips moving, words flying, Gandalf the White made quick work of expelling the monstrous creature from within the King. "You cannot win!"

"Rohan is mine!" Saruman viciously declared, flying forward to scratch the person nearest him, which turned out to be me. A sharpened fingernail slipped through the skin, marking it with yet another scar that burst blue with the magic of the Valar. You shine brighter than the stars.

"Fuck off!" Seth and I bellowed, furiously angered by this last display of dominant strength, and projecting raw magic at the monster, Saruman. Waiting while Gandalf added his magic to the mix, and then –

A butterfly, Théoden emerged from within its confines of his silken cocoon and returned to us, anew. His skin, eyes, and demeanor appeared decades younger, shining with vitality, and Eowyn smiled in joy. My Seth urged her forward with his friendly smile, helping her up the stairs, and Eowyn collapsed before her Uncle. She stared into his eyes, grateful for his return, her smile wide and her teeth showing in her happiness. Tears filled her eyes.

"Uncle…" Eowyn whispered, her hands reaching out to take his in her own. She pressed them to her face and let her warmth chase the chill of the afterlife from his cold limbs. "I have missed seeing you."

"Dark were my eyes and nightmares, Eowyn," Théoden responded, but his eyes slowly drifted to Seth and me. "Yet I see now a woman, my niece, who holds the heart of this Man, the friendship of this Woman, and strength of her People." He smiled gently down at the three of us. "There is yet hope for Rohan."


***Author's Note***

Hello again! I'm still posting the edited version - Edited 2015.

Woohoo~! We're moving right along now! I have taken the time to map out the rest of this story and know exactly what to write; hopefully, I will bring chapters to you more often and much faster. Now, I know that alsointroduced several strange concepts in this chapter that have only been hinted at during this story - it takes place in 2012, for example, and talks about Armageddon, the end of Earth - but most of it will be explained next chapter. Gandalf is omniscient and wise like that! :)

Song: Music and Lyrics of Rebirthing, by Skillet

Question: What do you think about "her" Staff of Power? Is it really hers? Hmm, I wonder! ;)

PLEASE READ AND REVIEW!

Update = ~360ish Reviews

:)