Disclaimer: I do not own Lotrs
Okay peeps, chapter is short yes I know, but you all wanted me to update so heres what i got so for you. a special shout out to viper marie Cahill for a great idea, though be it I did alter it a little, it still helped sot thank you.
In fact thank everyone for you ideas.
The Battle at the Wall.
Father and I, along with the nobles, had rushed out to the stone courtyard and saw Irolas leading the group of men carry Faramir's body. There was something very familiar about this scene. The sounds, the smells, even the cold wind was the same.
Had I preordained this moment?
Father pushed me aside to get to him first, the filthy hypocrite. "Faramir!" He cried out as he huddled over his body. I walked over more slowly to take everything in, Pippin standing beside me. Even though Father's robes blocked most of him, I could see the indents in Faramir's armour were the arrows had hit, blood slowly oozing from the wounds. "Is he ..?" Pippin's jaw trembled as he spoke.
"My Lady, I'm ... I'm sorry." Irolas said to me and bowed his head. "Did you find any of the others?" I asked quiet.
"No, Faramir's horse brought him back. But no others survived, there were too many."
I walked over to my brother and father, hiding my utmost disgust at what I saw. Father began to ramble again, sobbing for his loss.
He looked up at me with such despair and confusion, lines set in his face and his eyes were wild, "My ... no. My son ... my sons are ..." I didn't care what he was saying. "This is all your fault." I said in a seething tone. He stood up with trembling legs and backed away, "Traitor ... usurper and pawn. My sons are spent ... my line has ended." He sounded as if he was choking on his words. All I felt was hate. Hate for the way he had denied Faramir the love he had always wanted, hate for ordering Boromir to take the Ring that would eventually drive him mad, hate for placing everyone in this city in danger, hate for everything. My rage knew no bounds. This ... madman had robbed me of my brothers.
He too deserved to be robbed of something he valued, his life. My fingers slowly wrapped around the hilt of my sword, itching to pull the blade free.
It would only take a second ... vengeance is a beautiful thing ... wait ...
Were those my words, or someone else's'?
My mind went dark. When had I become so ... angry? Had I always been like this, and just didn't know it, or had something occurred overnight? Realization came like the dawn. I too was slipping into haze of madness brought on by my anger. I was doing the same as my father, allowing my emotional turmoil to consume me. It had consumed all of us.
Boromir's undying loyalty and love for Gondor and our father fueled his need to acquire the Ring, Faramir's need to please him resulted in his agreement to the suicide assault on Osgiliath, and my hate ... would have driven me to kill him, all the while Father would watch as his whole world turned on him.
Could it be that ... that dream was a seed? A murderous thought place in the deepest part of my mind that lay dormient, until my anger fed it and allowed it to grow.
What perfect way to weaken the city than having it's protectors destroy themselves.
The stories were true then, the Dark Lord works behind the scenes while his puppets and plans played out before him. I would not be one of those puppets. I would not satisfy his plans and stoop so low as to kill my father.
I let my hand fall from the hilt, aware of the pain now spreading through my fingers. Perhaps this was another plan, render my hands useless so I couldn't fight back, or maybe it was punishment for defying him.
"He's alive."
With those two words, I was brought back into the real world. Pippin had taken my father's place next to Faramir and was holding his hand above his mouth, feeling the short breaths my brother was taking. I quickly knelt down and a touched his skin. Though cold, fresh blood still pulsed. He was alive. A great weight was lifted off my shoulders.
"My line has ended!" Father screeched into the sky as he stumbled over to the edge of the courtyard.
"Dee, he needs medicine and bandages." Pip said. I nodded and stood up. "Take him straight to the House of Healing." I ordered four of the soldiers who quickly complied. As they took him away, another soldier came running towards us. "Lord Irolas, they've begun their attack."
Irolas and I looked at eachother and nodded. But before I could say anything, Father began to shout at the top of his lungs the retreat.
"ABANDON YOUR POSTS! FLEE, FLEE FOR YOUR LIVES!"
He was silenced by Gandalf, who seemingly came out of nowhere to literally knock some sense into Father. He struck him twice and Father was out cold. He turned and looked at me, "Lady Deorwynn." I straightened up slightly as he addressed me, "Command of the White City now rest with you. What is your will?"
Everyone looked at me, soldiers, nobles, Pip and bystanders alike."Begin full evacuation of the lower levels and have the catapults armed now." I ordered and the men jumped into action, now fully aware of my position thanks to Gandalf.
"Pip, stay here and keep an eye on my father." I whispered to the little hobbit before turning to the nobles, all of them still shock at what they had seen, "Take Lord Denethor inside." I ordered Duraen. He stood there with his mouth open until another noble pushed him into action.
"Come Deorwynn, we must make for the wall." Gandalf called for me to follow him to where Shadowfax stood waiting. I called for Ceron, "Have a battalion ready behind the gate at all times." "Yes My Lady." Ceron bowed and ran after Irolas. Gandalf and I mounted Shadowfax and rode down to the lower level. It hurt to see the damage already down to the city. We arrived at the wall where the archers and soldiers stood ready. It seemed my orders were taken seriously. I dismounted Shadowfax and stood with the men, ready for anything.
Gimli was right, it does get better.
"Now Deorwynn, send these creatures back to the black holes from whence they came." Gandalf said to me, anger filling his words.
I complied and raised my sword, signalling to launch the catapults. We easily outnumbered the orc army's catapults and as Irolas had told me, they could only damage the lower levels. That also meant the soldiers and I were at higher risk of being hit. Two spots along the wall had already been hit. I concentrated on the towers slowly coming towards the wall.
"Archers, aim for the trolls and stop them from approaching!" I shouted as loud as I could over the noise. Many of the towers had been taken out by our catapults, but still they drew closer. I saw Gandalf make his way over to the section of the wall right above the gate, giving the same order to the archers to defend the gate.
A terrible roar from above made my heart stop. The Nazgul had joined the battle.
The nine Fell beasts descended onto the city, like crows to a corpse and started to attack the catapults. The cries of the Nuzgul made the men shrivel in pain. One flew towards us and took out a large portion of our defences along the wall. The beast flew high into the air and prepared to make another attack. I though on the spot and grabbed a spare bow and two arrows.
I had never tried this technique, but after watching Legolas do it so many times, I felt I could this time. The very thought of Legolas filled me with unbridled confidence. I placed both arrows on the string and readied my aim. As the men around me started to scatter and move away from the oncoming creature, but I held firm. The horrible sight of the beast's opened mouth was my target.
I released the arrows and they both lodged themselves into the back of its throat, causing it to reel back from its attack and hover in the air as it tried to spit out the arrows. I took this chance and grabbed another arrow, this time I shot its eye. The beast screeched in pain shook its head, but in doing so shook off its rider as it flew off towards the army.
The Wraith landed not far from me. This was the first time I had ever seen one. Its black robes covered every inch of it, even its face. An armored hand held a long sword, ready to kill. It was a real life nightmare.
I swallowed back bile and drew my own sword.
The Wraith swung and hit the side of my blade hard, making me stagger a little. It swung around again and I barely missed it. Being smaller, and faster now that I had completely master the blade, I kept up a barrage of blows that forced it back, towards where one of the holes in the wall, with every blow I made my hands suffered from their 'curse'. In a final move, the Wraith brought it's sword down. I held my sword in both hands to block it and kicked the Wraith off the wall onto the growing pile of black bodies bellow.
I wasn't quite sure if it was dead, but it was on the other side of the wall now.
The men around me were frozen with awe, but as I passed them barking out orders they fell back into line. The towers were closer now, "Bring down those trolls!" But it was no use, the first of the towers had reached us.
"Draw swords!" I yelled as I saw the first of the orcs pour out from the tower. This was only the beginning of what was to come.