Legacy of the Ring
Echo the Nymph
Disclaimer: I don't own the books.
Chapter 10
Phoenix let out a soft sigh as she lay down next to the merrily crackling fire. She wasn't the least bit tired and could have gone on, but had let wisdom rule. Sparring after dark was just plain stupid. The huntress lightly rubbed a faint bruise on her arm, releaving the pain and stiffness that she felt. At that moment, Samwise looked up. "Goodness, Phoenix! What on Middle Earth were you doing?" he yelped.
Phoenix laughed, a pleasent bell-like sound to all ears. "I was only sparring. You can relax, I've been hurt worse when I was taught the martial arts." Her gaze suddenly turned to another area. She could feel that spirit again. Even see him! "Sam, don't make any sudden movements. Turn around slowly."
He did exactly as she told him, slowly turning his back on the warmth and light of the fire. "Gollum!" he hissed. "How can you be here? You're dead!"
The huntress blinked, startled by the venom in his voice. "That's enough. Wasn't he the Ring Bearer before Bilbo?" At his nod, she continued. "Then he may be linked to the power of the One Ring. Its re-forging could've made him stay in this realm."
Gollum cocked his head to one side, reguarding her with great, glowing, unblinking eyes. ~Prairie Songs?~ Her head snapped to his direction when he said the name. ~Or are yous Sierra?~ Gracefully, she rose to her hooves, walking over to him.
"I am niether Prairie Song nor Sierra. My name is Phoenix and the huntresses you mentioned are part of my family."
Gollum looked into her eyes, seeing a fire that few held. ~You sees us?~ Surprise overwhelmed his tone. Ever since the Ring had fallen into the fire, none had seen him. Not even shaman.
"I see you, and I am not the only one." Her gaze held him as though he were bound in chains. Yet her presence made her feel comfortable. Could she be another he had known? "You are also Smeagol. Were you ever told of a filly by the name of Red Vixen?"
He reached back into his memory, to a time before he had known the depths of darkness. ~Yess, we knowses Red Vixen. She born many yearses after Star Vixen. Many cold timeses between them.~ His glowing eyes blinked; why had she asked about that? A hiss escaped him as Gandalf approached.
"It seems that members of your family have known him or of him. Perhaps one simply knew him as Smeagol."
Gandalf's words made him think of his happier days. The image of a beautiful, adventerous filly, gray as smoke with white sprinkled over her quarters like frost. Warm blue eyes, sparkling with merriment and mischief were set in her face. ~Sacred Smoke! Smokey!~ he yelped.
Phoenix grew a little pale. "Smeagol speakes of the four times great grand daughter of Prairie Song." I can't believe this! The One extended his life that far!? A great clamor rose up from the front of the camp. The scouting party had returned, yet they had casulties. The huntress leapt into a gallop, easily weaving her way among the people. Her eyes grew wider when she recognized the injured.
Pippin lay, unmoving. His face was as pale as wax and many felt that he was already gone. She sprang over to him, feeling for a pulse or breathing. Niether made themselves known, but he was still warm. The huntress opened his shirt and instantly started chest compressions.
"What is she doing?" Merry demanded as Aragorn tended to the wound on his arm.
"Relax, Merry. There are techniques centaurs know that are forgotten to us." He continued wrapping the bandage about the wound. A ragged gasp drew their attention back to Phoenix and Pippin. The light from the candles flickered off their clothes and coat as she gently held him down.
"Easy, Pippin. You must've taken quite the shock back there." Phoenix helped him to sit up, slowly.
There was a look of pure confusion upon his face. "How'd you do that?I thought..." He broke off when he saw her gesture for silence.
"It's a simple technique. I can teach you if you wish." Thus, for the rest of the evening, Phoenix taught Merry and Pippin how to revive someone. By the time the sun had set, she rose to her hooves and walked outside. She stood where the light and shadow met next to the tent that some of her friends were in. Her gaze shifted to the stars, a song her mother had taught her upon her heart. Yet part had been missing for all the days it had seen. The filly began humming before the words and tune came to her.
"The war of old the light had won,
But at a cost so great.
Gondor, its king had lost
The Prince beyond its call.
Isildur, the Ring had taken
And decieved.
Thus betrayed he was killed
The Ring fell into the water
Flames cooling to embers.
Years flew by under the water
Until a new Bearer it ensnared.
Borne deep into the mountains misty,
Stayed the Ring of Power.
Years flow by under the mountain,
Darkness creeps back into the land.
A Ring of Power sees its time
Leaves the Bearer by the wayside.
A lost hobbit picks up the Ring
Unintended by its power.
What was intended is now lost,
As dwarves, men, elves and eagles fight.
Goblins are their foe. The new Bearer
Is unseen as the battle rages. Then
Takes the Ring unto his home.
Years flow by under the hill
The Ring quiet in his keeping.
Until the day he walks away
And leaves it to another.
The one before them forced to tell
Where the younger hobbit lay.
Nine Nazgul, dressed in black
Ride into the fair land.
Yet their haste unneeded,
The Bearer had fled.
Into a town of the Big Folk,
Awaiting the Mighty Wizard of the West.
In their company was a Dunedain,
Who became a friend. The Nazgul
They fooled and flet unto the east.
Yet their light by night was seen and
The Bearer stabbed.
His life they saved by the skill of an elven-lord.
The story of the Ring told. A dwarf attempted
To destroy what his craft could not unmake.
Only by the fires of Mount Doom could it be unmade.
The Nine, they came of four hobbits,
an elf, a dwarf, two men and a wizard.
Light unto the darkness, Through Moria
They went where the wizard fell.
Lothlorien became their refuge for a time.
When the Lady of Light bid them farewell,
Water bore them away.
Yet the Son of Gondor, the Ring tried to take.
Urak-high found them kupon the shore,
Captured two hobbits and killed the Son of Gondor.
Two hobbits fled into the darkness of Mordor,
True friends bearing the Ring.
Guided by one called Gollum,
Did they the mountain find.
Yet the Ring laid claim upon
The Bearer's light heart.
Gollum attacked him, bit finger from hand
And fell to his firey end.
They darkness, still it lingered
Held by the Dark Huntresses.
By such power the One re-forged.
Now the Gem of a people proud
Among outsiders finds friends.
The Bearer restored but only eight
Of Nine alive.
The Gem shone upon their journey
To the 'Dell. There friends of
Her mother were met. A green fire-flyer
Always at her side.
Fled they to Mirkwood the Great
Where the Prince was not believed.
To the ground she bore the doubter
The king brought them
To their halls among the trees.
One of the Nine she became; her green
Fire-flyer at her side. Huntresses rallied,
The races before them called again to the Crystalline Fields.
Many long battles they fought
Against the forces fo Mordor.
At last, they the final blow struck.
The One Ring cast back into the fire,
Balance restored."
Echo the Nymph
Disclaimer: I don't own the books.
Chapter 10
Phoenix let out a soft sigh as she lay down next to the merrily crackling fire. She wasn't the least bit tired and could have gone on, but had let wisdom rule. Sparring after dark was just plain stupid. The huntress lightly rubbed a faint bruise on her arm, releaving the pain and stiffness that she felt. At that moment, Samwise looked up. "Goodness, Phoenix! What on Middle Earth were you doing?" he yelped.
Phoenix laughed, a pleasent bell-like sound to all ears. "I was only sparring. You can relax, I've been hurt worse when I was taught the martial arts." Her gaze suddenly turned to another area. She could feel that spirit again. Even see him! "Sam, don't make any sudden movements. Turn around slowly."
He did exactly as she told him, slowly turning his back on the warmth and light of the fire. "Gollum!" he hissed. "How can you be here? You're dead!"
The huntress blinked, startled by the venom in his voice. "That's enough. Wasn't he the Ring Bearer before Bilbo?" At his nod, she continued. "Then he may be linked to the power of the One Ring. Its re-forging could've made him stay in this realm."
Gollum cocked his head to one side, reguarding her with great, glowing, unblinking eyes. ~Prairie Songs?~ Her head snapped to his direction when he said the name. ~Or are yous Sierra?~ Gracefully, she rose to her hooves, walking over to him.
"I am niether Prairie Song nor Sierra. My name is Phoenix and the huntresses you mentioned are part of my family."
Gollum looked into her eyes, seeing a fire that few held. ~You sees us?~ Surprise overwhelmed his tone. Ever since the Ring had fallen into the fire, none had seen him. Not even shaman.
"I see you, and I am not the only one." Her gaze held him as though he were bound in chains. Yet her presence made her feel comfortable. Could she be another he had known? "You are also Smeagol. Were you ever told of a filly by the name of Red Vixen?"
He reached back into his memory, to a time before he had known the depths of darkness. ~Yess, we knowses Red Vixen. She born many yearses after Star Vixen. Many cold timeses between them.~ His glowing eyes blinked; why had she asked about that? A hiss escaped him as Gandalf approached.
"It seems that members of your family have known him or of him. Perhaps one simply knew him as Smeagol."
Gandalf's words made him think of his happier days. The image of a beautiful, adventerous filly, gray as smoke with white sprinkled over her quarters like frost. Warm blue eyes, sparkling with merriment and mischief were set in her face. ~Sacred Smoke! Smokey!~ he yelped.
Phoenix grew a little pale. "Smeagol speakes of the four times great grand daughter of Prairie Song." I can't believe this! The One extended his life that far!? A great clamor rose up from the front of the camp. The scouting party had returned, yet they had casulties. The huntress leapt into a gallop, easily weaving her way among the people. Her eyes grew wider when she recognized the injured.
Pippin lay, unmoving. His face was as pale as wax and many felt that he was already gone. She sprang over to him, feeling for a pulse or breathing. Niether made themselves known, but he was still warm. The huntress opened his shirt and instantly started chest compressions.
"What is she doing?" Merry demanded as Aragorn tended to the wound on his arm.
"Relax, Merry. There are techniques centaurs know that are forgotten to us." He continued wrapping the bandage about the wound. A ragged gasp drew their attention back to Phoenix and Pippin. The light from the candles flickered off their clothes and coat as she gently held him down.
"Easy, Pippin. You must've taken quite the shock back there." Phoenix helped him to sit up, slowly.
There was a look of pure confusion upon his face. "How'd you do that?I thought..." He broke off when he saw her gesture for silence.
"It's a simple technique. I can teach you if you wish." Thus, for the rest of the evening, Phoenix taught Merry and Pippin how to revive someone. By the time the sun had set, she rose to her hooves and walked outside. She stood where the light and shadow met next to the tent that some of her friends were in. Her gaze shifted to the stars, a song her mother had taught her upon her heart. Yet part had been missing for all the days it had seen. The filly began humming before the words and tune came to her.
"The war of old the light had won,
But at a cost so great.
Gondor, its king had lost
The Prince beyond its call.
Isildur, the Ring had taken
And decieved.
Thus betrayed he was killed
The Ring fell into the water
Flames cooling to embers.
Years flew by under the water
Until a new Bearer it ensnared.
Borne deep into the mountains misty,
Stayed the Ring of Power.
Years flow by under the mountain,
Darkness creeps back into the land.
A Ring of Power sees its time
Leaves the Bearer by the wayside.
A lost hobbit picks up the Ring
Unintended by its power.
What was intended is now lost,
As dwarves, men, elves and eagles fight.
Goblins are their foe. The new Bearer
Is unseen as the battle rages. Then
Takes the Ring unto his home.
Years flow by under the hill
The Ring quiet in his keeping.
Until the day he walks away
And leaves it to another.
The one before them forced to tell
Where the younger hobbit lay.
Nine Nazgul, dressed in black
Ride into the fair land.
Yet their haste unneeded,
The Bearer had fled.
Into a town of the Big Folk,
Awaiting the Mighty Wizard of the West.
In their company was a Dunedain,
Who became a friend. The Nazgul
They fooled and flet unto the east.
Yet their light by night was seen and
The Bearer stabbed.
His life they saved by the skill of an elven-lord.
The story of the Ring told. A dwarf attempted
To destroy what his craft could not unmake.
Only by the fires of Mount Doom could it be unmade.
The Nine, they came of four hobbits,
an elf, a dwarf, two men and a wizard.
Light unto the darkness, Through Moria
They went where the wizard fell.
Lothlorien became their refuge for a time.
When the Lady of Light bid them farewell,
Water bore them away.
Yet the Son of Gondor, the Ring tried to take.
Urak-high found them kupon the shore,
Captured two hobbits and killed the Son of Gondor.
Two hobbits fled into the darkness of Mordor,
True friends bearing the Ring.
Guided by one called Gollum,
Did they the mountain find.
Yet the Ring laid claim upon
The Bearer's light heart.
Gollum attacked him, bit finger from hand
And fell to his firey end.
They darkness, still it lingered
Held by the Dark Huntresses.
By such power the One re-forged.
Now the Gem of a people proud
Among outsiders finds friends.
The Bearer restored but only eight
Of Nine alive.
The Gem shone upon their journey
To the 'Dell. There friends of
Her mother were met. A green fire-flyer
Always at her side.
Fled they to Mirkwood the Great
Where the Prince was not believed.
To the ground she bore the doubter
The king brought them
To their halls among the trees.
One of the Nine she became; her green
Fire-flyer at her side. Huntresses rallied,
The races before them called again to the Crystalline Fields.
Many long battles they fought
Against the forces fo Mordor.
At last, they the final blow struck.
The One Ring cast back into the fire,
Balance restored."