Yeah! 2 parts in one day! Part 4 hasn't even been started yet so it might
be a while… I'm a little drained at the moment. Anyways, another shorter
section. In the planning stages, 3 and 4 were just one chapter, but as I
started righting, 3 got a lot longer then I expected and I decided to just
do two separate parts. Anyways, review and enjoy!
Lauren
Disclaimer: Once again, though I wish LOTR were mine, It isn't. Nope, not one tiny thing.
I woke to the strong smell of Aethalas, which flooded my senses and brought me back into consciousness. It was then for the first time that I felt the sharp, stinging pain in my shield arm, that bit like an attacking dog that refused to let go.
I looked up at the faces of my healers, men and women whom I had never set eyes on before. However, there were a few whom I did recognize, among those were my dearest brother and that person whom I had dreamt of for so long… Aragorn. As I met his steel gray eyes with my own, I blushed and words escaped me entirely. I felt ignorant and childish and wanting nothing more then to hide under my sheets away from sight.
I was a failure. I had been wounded in battle and now I lie in bed like one of the helpless woman whom I never wanted to be. I wanted to prove that I was strong and could do things for myself, and have no man pity me. But here I was, laying injured in bed, having been healed by the hands of the same man whom I had wanted to impress.
To my great relief Aragorn soon left my side, and the other healers followed until only Eomer remained beside me. He held my hand softly and carried a great pain with him. We said nothing to each other for a time, but as I looked upon his face I was slowly reminded of my uncle, my king whom I had left upon the battlefield.
To my greatest distress I was informed that he lay dead now, and that he had died before they had reached him. I wept then, wept for the first time in years, and it was then that the whole battle flooded into my mind.
It was a dark vision, cold and void of happiness and I wanted to never relive it again but the memories raced in before I could stop them. I felt the chill in my whole body that I had felt once the witch king descended upon the Pelannor, and I shivered. I felt my fingers curl around the handle of my sword as I pulled it slowly from it's scabbard. I heard the voice of the dark rider as he spoke to me, and I remember the strength I held as I threw my helmet to the ground, unmasking myself. I felt the swing of my blade as it sliced through the neck of the great winged beast, and I remembered how my legs trembled as it's severed head hit the ground. But I also recalled the confidence that filled my whole being, focusing me on my purpose and goal. I heard the mace sailing through the arm, and felt the pain as it crashed down upon my arm, shattering the bones.
The pain returned right then, and I sat up and screamed so loud that I felt the whole city had heard my cry. A nurse ran into the room and hastily told me to rest and be still as she wiped the cold sweat from my brow. I slumped back into my pillows but could not find comfort as the final moments of my battle replayed in my mind. I remembered again how I was sprawled on the ground, my good hand tightened around the hilt on my blade. I could smell the evil of the creature, as well as the death that surrounded me. Then I recalled how I had seen the halfling on hand and knee crawling quietly, and the look of terror that came over his face as the heavy mace was raised to deliver it's final blow upon me.
But then time froze, and the mace fell heavily upon the barren earth, and without a thought running through my mind, I raised my sword with all the strength I could muster, and then… darkness.
~*~
I woke up from my dreamless sleep to a bright morning, as bright as any I had seen for a long time. My chamber was empty, but not for long. I nurse came in and delivered a message to me, telling that the men were to ride to Mordor.
My heart sank. Not only because there was a chance I would never see my brother and my love again, but because I wanted to go with them. I thought of the battle of Helm's Deep, and how they had found victory, and how I longed to have been there more then anything. I would not be left behind again.
I moved my legs for the first time since my fall, and swung them over the side of my bed. Slowly I lifted myself on wobbly legs in an attempt to stand, but I was still week and I feel, setting my arms before me to catch the fall. My broken limb hit the floor and I screamed, causing the nurse to rush in frantically.
"Hell, just cut it off!" I snapped at her. She quietly came to me, confused, and took my other arm to help me up, but weakly I jerked away. "Cut it off!" I repeated. "I'm riding to war and I will not have this hinder me!"
"M' lady, You ought get more rest, you are still weak from your wounds."
"You have no right to tell we what I should do!" I defiantly got to me feet, and leaned against the bedside table for support. "I leave for war, inform the warden to have my belonging brought to me, and make haste."
She looked at me, puzzled, then went to my bed and pulled back the sheet. "We have instruction from King Elessar that you are not to leave our houses under any circumstances. Now I suggest you get back into bed."
I obediently did as she said, and lowered myself onto the mattress. I could not argue with Aragorn, and though I am ashamed to admit it, I knew I was in no real condition to fight.
And so quietly I sat in my room, often sleeping or reading from the books that were brought to me. But most of the time I thought of Aragorn, who was now king, and I wished for him to come to my bedside, so I could see him just one last time. But he never came, instead it was Eomer who strolled in after lunch, taking my hand again.
"I leave for Mordor my dearest sister." He said gravely. I looked him strait in the eye and told him that I knew. And he nodded and smiled. Outside a horn was blown, calling the soldier to war. My brother embraced me, knowing that this might be our last time together, knowing that he might never return. He placed his hand upon my head and ruffled my hair as he used to do when we were children, then he stood and turned for the door.
"Brother," I said, "You are now king, bring honor to our country, bring it the honor that I failed to deliver."
"But sister, not in a hundred lifetimes could I claim the renown you have found." With that simple comment, he turned and left and I feared our ways would never cross again.
In case you wonder why I did the fall of the witch king as a flashback… I thought the original chapter was so perfect in ROTk that I didn't want to slaughter it horribly. So instead I did the flashback which just briefly recalls thoughts and feelings.
Alright, next part coming soon: Eowyn meets Faramir… hmmm…
Lauren
Disclaimer: Once again, though I wish LOTR were mine, It isn't. Nope, not one tiny thing.
I woke to the strong smell of Aethalas, which flooded my senses and brought me back into consciousness. It was then for the first time that I felt the sharp, stinging pain in my shield arm, that bit like an attacking dog that refused to let go.
I looked up at the faces of my healers, men and women whom I had never set eyes on before. However, there were a few whom I did recognize, among those were my dearest brother and that person whom I had dreamt of for so long… Aragorn. As I met his steel gray eyes with my own, I blushed and words escaped me entirely. I felt ignorant and childish and wanting nothing more then to hide under my sheets away from sight.
I was a failure. I had been wounded in battle and now I lie in bed like one of the helpless woman whom I never wanted to be. I wanted to prove that I was strong and could do things for myself, and have no man pity me. But here I was, laying injured in bed, having been healed by the hands of the same man whom I had wanted to impress.
To my great relief Aragorn soon left my side, and the other healers followed until only Eomer remained beside me. He held my hand softly and carried a great pain with him. We said nothing to each other for a time, but as I looked upon his face I was slowly reminded of my uncle, my king whom I had left upon the battlefield.
To my greatest distress I was informed that he lay dead now, and that he had died before they had reached him. I wept then, wept for the first time in years, and it was then that the whole battle flooded into my mind.
It was a dark vision, cold and void of happiness and I wanted to never relive it again but the memories raced in before I could stop them. I felt the chill in my whole body that I had felt once the witch king descended upon the Pelannor, and I shivered. I felt my fingers curl around the handle of my sword as I pulled it slowly from it's scabbard. I heard the voice of the dark rider as he spoke to me, and I remember the strength I held as I threw my helmet to the ground, unmasking myself. I felt the swing of my blade as it sliced through the neck of the great winged beast, and I remembered how my legs trembled as it's severed head hit the ground. But I also recalled the confidence that filled my whole being, focusing me on my purpose and goal. I heard the mace sailing through the arm, and felt the pain as it crashed down upon my arm, shattering the bones.
The pain returned right then, and I sat up and screamed so loud that I felt the whole city had heard my cry. A nurse ran into the room and hastily told me to rest and be still as she wiped the cold sweat from my brow. I slumped back into my pillows but could not find comfort as the final moments of my battle replayed in my mind. I remembered again how I was sprawled on the ground, my good hand tightened around the hilt on my blade. I could smell the evil of the creature, as well as the death that surrounded me. Then I recalled how I had seen the halfling on hand and knee crawling quietly, and the look of terror that came over his face as the heavy mace was raised to deliver it's final blow upon me.
But then time froze, and the mace fell heavily upon the barren earth, and without a thought running through my mind, I raised my sword with all the strength I could muster, and then… darkness.
~*~
I woke up from my dreamless sleep to a bright morning, as bright as any I had seen for a long time. My chamber was empty, but not for long. I nurse came in and delivered a message to me, telling that the men were to ride to Mordor.
My heart sank. Not only because there was a chance I would never see my brother and my love again, but because I wanted to go with them. I thought of the battle of Helm's Deep, and how they had found victory, and how I longed to have been there more then anything. I would not be left behind again.
I moved my legs for the first time since my fall, and swung them over the side of my bed. Slowly I lifted myself on wobbly legs in an attempt to stand, but I was still week and I feel, setting my arms before me to catch the fall. My broken limb hit the floor and I screamed, causing the nurse to rush in frantically.
"Hell, just cut it off!" I snapped at her. She quietly came to me, confused, and took my other arm to help me up, but weakly I jerked away. "Cut it off!" I repeated. "I'm riding to war and I will not have this hinder me!"
"M' lady, You ought get more rest, you are still weak from your wounds."
"You have no right to tell we what I should do!" I defiantly got to me feet, and leaned against the bedside table for support. "I leave for war, inform the warden to have my belonging brought to me, and make haste."
She looked at me, puzzled, then went to my bed and pulled back the sheet. "We have instruction from King Elessar that you are not to leave our houses under any circumstances. Now I suggest you get back into bed."
I obediently did as she said, and lowered myself onto the mattress. I could not argue with Aragorn, and though I am ashamed to admit it, I knew I was in no real condition to fight.
And so quietly I sat in my room, often sleeping or reading from the books that were brought to me. But most of the time I thought of Aragorn, who was now king, and I wished for him to come to my bedside, so I could see him just one last time. But he never came, instead it was Eomer who strolled in after lunch, taking my hand again.
"I leave for Mordor my dearest sister." He said gravely. I looked him strait in the eye and told him that I knew. And he nodded and smiled. Outside a horn was blown, calling the soldier to war. My brother embraced me, knowing that this might be our last time together, knowing that he might never return. He placed his hand upon my head and ruffled my hair as he used to do when we were children, then he stood and turned for the door.
"Brother," I said, "You are now king, bring honor to our country, bring it the honor that I failed to deliver."
"But sister, not in a hundred lifetimes could I claim the renown you have found." With that simple comment, he turned and left and I feared our ways would never cross again.
In case you wonder why I did the fall of the witch king as a flashback… I thought the original chapter was so perfect in ROTk that I didn't want to slaughter it horribly. So instead I did the flashback which just briefly recalls thoughts and feelings.
Alright, next part coming soon: Eowyn meets Faramir… hmmm…