Hello again. This chapter is the beginning of the battle at the Pelennor. As well, let´s call it, Boromir´s love story (it eventually became that) continues. He deserves someone too, don´t you think. Hope that you agree.
Thanks for reading and for the newly added favourite.
I hope you´ll like this chapter.
Stay safe throughout the begin of the battle and at home.
Soon, our heroes are united again.
Enjoy.
Pelennor Fields
Boromir and Imrahil arrived at the Pelennor when the enemy broke through the gates. Gondor's men fought brave but they were too less. The Captain General should have been here sooner. Too long was his absence. "I will fight my way through. Your force uncle. Your orders," Boromir states and urges his horse forward. He draws the sword he borrowed from Dol Amroth and attacks the orcs from behind. The enemy was surprised and failed to stop him. Until the Nazgul arrived. Coward creatures. Stayed out of reach. He could not... reach it with his sword. Then it cried. A shiver ran through the older one's body and he was close to lose consciousness. He did not. However, he saw the orc too late. Yet, the blow did not come.
"Your welcome, milord," a familiar voice declares. Calemireth.
"Follow me, milady," Boromir responds and makes for the gate. Inside, he dismounts and lifts a shield from the ground. The Captain General searches for his men. All were occupied with fighting back the enemy.
"Your orders, Lord?" one asks.
"To stay alive. If possible. Defend the city. Fight them back," he answers while aiming blows at the orcs. "For Gondor!" the older one cried and the men repeat it. Much longer they could not hold the first level. He saved one man and draws back. "Are the lower levels evacuated?" Boromir questions.
"Yes, my Captain General," replies one soldier.
"We retreat to the second level. Inform the men," he orders. Calemireth appears next to him.
"We retreat?" she asks.
"Yes," he confirms and blocks the way that the men could do as told. The woman follows him and stayed at his side. Boromir took her by the shoulder as soon as all men made it to the second level. "Come," he adds. Both arrived at the next level. Gandalf was there. The wizard fought with sword and staff. Boromir joins him. "You did good in defending my city, friend," he states.
"Good to see you, Boromir," responds the Istari. Calemireth joins them and a circle was built. When he brought the last avail orc to the fall, they could catch their breath for now. "Where have you been?" questions Gandalf.
"Dol Amroth," the older one answers and let his sword sank. "My father?" he asks.
"Cursed, I suppose. The Steward believes you and Faramir death," replies his friend.
"Awesome," the Captain General mumbles.
"Did not benefit us, indeed," agrees the Istari.
"Boromir" a most welcomed voice cries and Pippin rushes to him. He regards the hobbit with a smile.
"Were we fighting alongside the soldiers?" he questions.
"Not really. Actually... But now I am here," began Pippin and returns the smile. "Your father...," the little one wanted to add something but new enemies arrived.
"Later, Pippin," he declares.
"Watch your...," he heard Calemireth,"... left," she finishes while the orc fell by her hand. However, the woman forgot about her left. Boromir prevents the blow and pulls the Lady to the side. The woman landed in his arms. She looks at him. He looks at her.
"Orc," Boromir explains.
"I see," Calemireth replies while she takes a step back.
"Gandalf," he heard Pippin and turns around. The hobbit saved their friend by stabbing an orc.
"Thanks, Mr. Took," states the wizard.
"Milord. You may need to... see this," Calemireth says addressed to him and points on a newly arrived enemy. He joins her side.
"The Witchking, milady," the older one declares. Gandalf was walking towards this creature. He too wanted to battle this evil but the woman holds him back.
"Not alone," she advices.
"Calemireth, I am," he began but the sound of horns interrupts him. "Rohan is there," he concludes. "They came," Boromir adds. The Witchking flew off to the Pelennor. Many horsemen build a line at the horizon. He exchanges a view with Calemireth and made for the stalls to saddle Thunderstruck. His mighty steed. Boromir mounts and rides towards the gate. The older one fell down enemies on the way. Outside, he joins the forces of Dol Amroth. Be it enemy or defenders, except for him and the Witchking no other moved. Till the Rohirrim began to move.
Éomer lead his unit forward. His uncle made a short speech. Afterwards, the attack of the Rohirrim started. Surprise was written in the faces of the orcs and the marshal acknowledges it with grim determination. At first it seemed as if the tide was turning for the better. Many enemies went on his count while breaking through the lines. Their advantage was wiped out when support from the enemy arrived. Southrons. Éomer turned his steed around. "Gather together," he orders. The fair-haired man was on top at his unit. With a speed only horsemen could manage they collide with the Haradrim. Their oliphaunts were unsettling. Many of his men were thrown of horse and killed. Éomer concentrates on the riders while his men focus on the legs. One Haradrim laughs condescendingly down at him. The marshal brought forth a spear and aimed at the enemy as target. His spear catches the foreign man off guard. Never was anyone allowed to think weak of his folk. After that he makes out Boromir. The Captain General could not be stopped.
"You came at the right time, friend," the Gondorian states.
"We keep our promises," he answers with a short bow of his head.
"New sword?" Éomer dared to tease the dark-haired man.
"There were some complications," Boromir counters. The marshal beheaded one orc. His friend another enemy.
"The horse of yours is a most noble one. Rohan does not have much black horses," the fair-haired man declares.
His companion in battle smiles and adds," Meet Thunderstruck." Before an orc from behind became a threat, Éomer easily ram his sword in its breast.
"Our problem are the oliphaunts," he states.
"Aragorn will come. I am sure of it," replies Boromir.
"He has my trust as well," agrees the marshal.
"I miss my brother's bow. As you said the riders are the worst," states the Gondorian.
"We have spears, friend," Éomer offers.
"I would take one then," answers the Captain General. He hands one to the older one. However, the spear did not hit its target because it was dodged at the last moment. "Your turn, marshal," concludes Boromir. The fair-haired man aimed at the same Haradrim and was successful. "A weapon should be mastered," comments his companion.
"For that you are unbeatable with the sword. Praise of your abilities passed the borders of your territory," counters Éomer. His men stretched a rope by the order of Théoden and the next Oliphaunt fell. "Beware," he cried that the beast was evaded.
"Your friend?" a female voice asks addressed to Boromir. He turns around. Indeed, a woman took part in battle. His thoughts wandered briefly to Éowyn.
"Calemireth. Éomer," the Captain General introduces them. "Before you say something, I she did not follow my order to stay safe," the man adds.
"However, she is able to defend herself," Calemireth speaks up. All three swung the sword.
"Pleasure, milady," Éomer answers before he concentrates on the fight again. The marshal has to lead his men. He gallops away.
Denethor left his chamber and now views the battle from the platform of the Citadel. "We are lost," he mumbles. "Why are we even fighting when there is no hope?" the Steward thoughts aloud. Then he recognized a familiar head. No. It could not be his son. Boromir was dead. A ghost, yes, he saw a ghost. The man turns his back to hide the battle below from his view. He still clutches the book. Someone clothed in white catches his attention. Denethor shakes his head. No. Saruman was not here. The White Wizard left. He ended up in front of the tree. It would never bloom. It was not his wish. The cry of one of these Nazgul makes his body shiver. The man fell to the ground. There he remained till the Steward found the strength to rise. Most soldiers were participating in the battle. Denethor continues his walk. The training grounds lay in front him. No. He could not stay here. There was only one more place, he could go. He wasn't there for long. The gardens of his wife. The Steward enters it and sat down on a bench. A good place to spend his last hours at Minas Tirith.
Éowyn desperately searches for Merry. Finally, she found him. The shieldmaiden dismounts and helps her friend up. Éomer gallops past her. She draws the sword and assists Rohan's men. When she makes out another woman on the battlefield. Èowyn first could not believe her eyes. The brown-haired lady fought alongside Gondor's soldiers. Later, she will search for this woman. However, a battle must be won first. Then there would be time for talk.
Legolas was ordered to rest. It was a request of Aragorn. The elf accepted it. Time to let his thoughts wander to his home. His people. The elves of Mirkwood. "Boats. I do not like them," declares Gimli and joins him.
"I would not have suspected to see you again before the battle starts," he counters.
"I do not have to justify myself in front of you," replies the dwarf.
"-o iór," [Of course] agrees Legolas. "You do look pale," he discerns.
"Boats," responds Gimli.
"Not long now," the prince promises.
"Could sail the whole day," answers his companion but Legolas knew it was not the truth. His friend was not used to this type of movement. Then Minas Tirith came into view. Stones did not meet his taste but the one of the dwarfs. "Young fellow, you were right. I do enjoy the sight of Gondor's capital," Gimli shouts towards Faramir. The younger one walks over to them.
"I am glad you do," their friend responds.
"Do not worry. We will free it from orcs. The dwarf is ready," declares his companion.
"My thanks. Both of you are most worthy friends" Faramir states with a smile. Aragorn drew near and regards his three companions.
"I will call for the death men again. For the last time," the Dúnedain indicates. "The enemy will stand no chance," concludes Gimli. "Not against friendship and brave men," agrees Estel.