In the Heart of Battle
A/N: Here's the first chapter, there's not really a whole lot of Aragorn in here but it's still pretty important. I would love some feedback, no flames thanks, they waste your time and mine, but I need to know if there are people out there who want me to carry on, so if I don't get any reviews, I won't post any more of what I've written so far. So, pleaaaaasssseeee feedback :D Botticelli Angel
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Chapter 1:
(Legolas PoV)
I could hear them before they arrived over the hill, the steady thudding of the horses of the Rohirrim pounding beneath the heavy sounds of battle. The sounds of the battle that we fought, the battle not only for the victory of Helms Deep, but the war for the lives of men. As it seemed to me that we were to fail I could not allow myself the hope in that moment that I could hear relief coming to aid us in our task. Not when all our hope had been abandoned as we rode out into the never abating swarms of Uruk-Hai with King Theoden. Aragorn had said that all he could do was fight and die with these people, showing his true honour and bravery, and as we rode out of Helms Deep I knew that he was right. It was all that we could truly do.
I have no fear of death, my only fear as I had readied myself for war was the death of those who stood around me, not only those I love and care for, but the slaughter of the innocents who stood to defend their people. The men and women of Rohan. I feared that we would fail and in our failure would come the fall of men, the death of the only race left who would stand to fight against the evil in middle-earth. For all the faults of men in their present and in their past, I had no desire to see their complete demise at the hands of the enemy, for the age of men was about to arise.
As I finally allowed myself a glance upward to the hill where the pounding hooves of horses emanated from I was graced with the vision of Gandalf. A shinning star of hope on Shadowfax in the early rising of the sun, the 3,000 strong army of Rohirrim behind him glimmering in the sun before the charge began. Every man who fought on still seemed to gain a new strength founded in the hope that perhaps the battle could still be won yet, many of the Uruk-Hai were slain, and with the help of the exiled riders of Rohan perhaps this battle could turn in our favour. Perhaps the men of Rohan would not fall and the men of middle-earth could still have the chance and the hope to survive. The hope of the battle was restored and the men fought with a new found vigour.
I though, paid dearly for my distraction.
As I allowed myself a glance of the drawn swords and charge of the men of Rohan an alert Uruk-Hai noticed my waning attention and took swift advantage. A black arrow was loosed from the dark bow of Sarumans evil creations and it span through the air at a gruesome speed that even I with my Elven agility could not dodge. I could feel it flying through the air towards me, my senses tingling as I leant back to try my best to avoid in. My efforts had little effect for before I had the chance to move any substantial distance the arrow had embedded itself in my flesh. Pain shot through me like a fire burning through my veins, emanating from the harsh wound in the upper side of my left chest where the arrow had missed my armour by a mere hairs breadth.
I gave out a loud shout of agony, which was drowned out by the cries of battle as I snapped the shaft of the arrow, knowing better than to remove the head of the arrow on the battlefield. Even if I had wished to tend to my wounds further I was not given the chance as the offending Uruk-Hai who had shot me with his arrow charged at me in a vain attempt to finish me off. So I was pulled back into the heat and the heart of the battle, the needs of the many out weighing the slow build of raw agony that spread from my wound to all ends of my body. I refused to give in to a such a simple wound, that I was sure had done no damage to any of my vitals, I refused to give in to simple pain, so on I fought.
I do not know how long I continued to rage on, slashing my way through the never ending hoards of the Uruk-Hai. All I knew as I fought was weariness, the likes of which I had never felt before and the steady progression of my pain as I continued to drive myself forward through the masses. I prayed silently to the Valar that the battle would end soon in our favour and I could be allowed the chance to treat both my wounds and my fatigue.
I had been wounded in battle before but never before had it weighed so heavily upon me as I continued to fight, even with injuries far more substantial that the arrow that protruded from my chest. Never before had I felt so weary or heavy with fatigue and never before had I felt such intense pain that it went beyond pure agony, burning its way through my entire body and searing me from the inside out. But still I strove on. I refused to give in to such a minor injury and desert the people of Rohan to the battle I had sworn to fight in, and die in if necessary, I would not give up simply because I felt pain.
My body had other ideas.
As the battle began to slow and was on the verge of being won, the scenes around me began to haze and blur. I blinked to try and bring the world back into focus, but the more I blinked the cloudier things became. My limbs felt heavier than they had ever been and it took all my strength to hold my head up as everything began to get dark. As the world slowly gave way to darkness a name escaped my lips before everything went out.
"Aragorn."
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A/N: Here's the first chapter, there's not really a whole lot of Aragorn in here but it's still pretty important. I would love some feedback, no flames thanks, they waste your time and mine, but I need to know if there are people out there who want me to carry on, so if I don't get any reviews, I won't post any more of what I've written so far. So, pleaaaaasssseeee feedback :D Botticelli Angel
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Chapter 1:
(Legolas PoV)
I could hear them before they arrived over the hill, the steady thudding of the horses of the Rohirrim pounding beneath the heavy sounds of battle. The sounds of the battle that we fought, the battle not only for the victory of Helms Deep, but the war for the lives of men. As it seemed to me that we were to fail I could not allow myself the hope in that moment that I could hear relief coming to aid us in our task. Not when all our hope had been abandoned as we rode out into the never abating swarms of Uruk-Hai with King Theoden. Aragorn had said that all he could do was fight and die with these people, showing his true honour and bravery, and as we rode out of Helms Deep I knew that he was right. It was all that we could truly do.
I have no fear of death, my only fear as I had readied myself for war was the death of those who stood around me, not only those I love and care for, but the slaughter of the innocents who stood to defend their people. The men and women of Rohan. I feared that we would fail and in our failure would come the fall of men, the death of the only race left who would stand to fight against the evil in middle-earth. For all the faults of men in their present and in their past, I had no desire to see their complete demise at the hands of the enemy, for the age of men was about to arise.
As I finally allowed myself a glance upward to the hill where the pounding hooves of horses emanated from I was graced with the vision of Gandalf. A shinning star of hope on Shadowfax in the early rising of the sun, the 3,000 strong army of Rohirrim behind him glimmering in the sun before the charge began. Every man who fought on still seemed to gain a new strength founded in the hope that perhaps the battle could still be won yet, many of the Uruk-Hai were slain, and with the help of the exiled riders of Rohan perhaps this battle could turn in our favour. Perhaps the men of Rohan would not fall and the men of middle-earth could still have the chance and the hope to survive. The hope of the battle was restored and the men fought with a new found vigour.
I though, paid dearly for my distraction.
As I allowed myself a glance of the drawn swords and charge of the men of Rohan an alert Uruk-Hai noticed my waning attention and took swift advantage. A black arrow was loosed from the dark bow of Sarumans evil creations and it span through the air at a gruesome speed that even I with my Elven agility could not dodge. I could feel it flying through the air towards me, my senses tingling as I leant back to try my best to avoid in. My efforts had little effect for before I had the chance to move any substantial distance the arrow had embedded itself in my flesh. Pain shot through me like a fire burning through my veins, emanating from the harsh wound in the upper side of my left chest where the arrow had missed my armour by a mere hairs breadth.
I gave out a loud shout of agony, which was drowned out by the cries of battle as I snapped the shaft of the arrow, knowing better than to remove the head of the arrow on the battlefield. Even if I had wished to tend to my wounds further I was not given the chance as the offending Uruk-Hai who had shot me with his arrow charged at me in a vain attempt to finish me off. So I was pulled back into the heat and the heart of the battle, the needs of the many out weighing the slow build of raw agony that spread from my wound to all ends of my body. I refused to give in to a such a simple wound, that I was sure had done no damage to any of my vitals, I refused to give in to simple pain, so on I fought.
I do not know how long I continued to rage on, slashing my way through the never ending hoards of the Uruk-Hai. All I knew as I fought was weariness, the likes of which I had never felt before and the steady progression of my pain as I continued to drive myself forward through the masses. I prayed silently to the Valar that the battle would end soon in our favour and I could be allowed the chance to treat both my wounds and my fatigue.
I had been wounded in battle before but never before had it weighed so heavily upon me as I continued to fight, even with injuries far more substantial that the arrow that protruded from my chest. Never before had I felt so weary or heavy with fatigue and never before had I felt such intense pain that it went beyond pure agony, burning its way through my entire body and searing me from the inside out. But still I strove on. I refused to give in to such a minor injury and desert the people of Rohan to the battle I had sworn to fight in, and die in if necessary, I would not give up simply because I felt pain.
My body had other ideas.
As the battle began to slow and was on the verge of being won, the scenes around me began to haze and blur. I blinked to try and bring the world back into focus, but the more I blinked the cloudier things became. My limbs felt heavier than they had ever been and it took all my strength to hold my head up as everything began to get dark. As the world slowly gave way to darkness a name escaped my lips before everything went out.
"Aragorn."
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