Chapter 1: Of Meeting and Fighting
Sellevorn snapped awake before dawn, feeling cold and sticky with misting droplets. The day was gray and dreary as she set out after a hasty breakfast, and the rising sun stained the clouds a deep, murky red. In the tales her father used to tell her, a red sun meant bloodshed. Up ahead, she heard the sounds of clanging metal echoing through the mist.
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Aylus had risen early that day, restless from the days of inactivity he had spent in the caves. A scouting party of fifteen was just leaving, and after receiving Ionedhûr's permission he joined them. He carried his saddle to Aran, and readied himself to ride across the plain.
They rode mainly in silence, senses alert. This was no different from usual for Aylus, who was by nature quite reclusive. Relying on the others to be his eyes, he cast his gaze up into the cloudy sky and listened for any movement, feeling content in the silence, not really expecting to hear anything.
Tolmir, a young ranger close to Aylus' age, nudged his friend, looking across the plain.
Eh Bramyn, you see that?
I can't see a single thing, Tolmir, not with that Valar-cursed fog all around us!
Aylus exclaimed, sitting up and peering about. The sound of their fell voices and rusty weapons travels on the air! But how comes this, that they travel so easily in the day?
'Tis hardly day, Bramyn commented, looking about the gloom, suddenly serious. And these are no mere Orcs. From the heavy sound of their tramping, I judge them to be Uruk-Hai, fell beasts created by some form of dark sorcery which enables them to travel easily even in full sunlight.
Have they seen us? asked Tolmir anxiously, hand on his blade.
Ahead of them in the company, their scout let out a short cry.
They have now, said Aylus grimly, unsheathing his sword.
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Sellevorn checked her weapons and slipped off the heavy quiver of arrows which would hinder her in close combat. In the murky fog, there was no use for arrows in any case. She left the quiver rolled in her pack on Faerloss' back and moved quietly into the melee.
When she neared her destination she paused, able to see for the first time the combatants in the battle wore the clothes of the Ithilien rangers, and their adversaries were Uruk-Hai similar to those who had ransacked her village earlier in the year. She could not stand by while these creatures killed men of Gondor. Slipping closer to the fringes of the action, she smoothly slid a long knife through the armor of one of the Uruks He stiffened and fell away from her, and the others turned... to see the new threat was but a diminutive, cloaked figure. Sellevorn's eyes widened as ten Uruk-Hai converged on her at once.
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Aylus fought with a ferocity born of desperation, felling two of the enemy in quick succession. To his left he heard Tolmir's cry for help and began to rush to his aid, but something caught his eye. At the edge of his vision, he saw an unknown cloaked figure set upon by ten of the enemy, fighting mightily. However, it was not enough, and though the stranger's blade swirled and flowed through the tepid air, he was forced back. Aylus paused a moment, captivated by this warrior's flashing blade. Then, shaking himself, he ran to the stranger's aid, sword held out. He was none too early, as already the stranger let out a high-pitched gasp and stumbled down to one knee, his leg deeply scored just above the knee. Aylus called for help, and two other rangers whose features he could not make out ran to aid him. Together, they quickly dispatched all of the Uruk-Hai and stood there, looking about.
Out of the darkness came eleven more rangers.
Where are Canron and Tolmir? Aylus demanded. He felt his voice squeak a bit. Where are they?
Toldion, the expedition leader, shook his head, holding the edges of a slice on his upper arm together with his left hand.
They are fallen, Aylus, he told the young ranger gently.
Aylus slammed his sword into the unmoving chest of a dead Uruk, face contorted. He would not shed tears. Many had fallen in these dark times- it was not important that these were the first of those known to him. It was now time to turn to more important manners, and let mourning wait until after the war.
The rangers formed a ragged circle around the strange cloaked figure who had aided them in their fight.
Who are you? Toldion demanded. Remove your hood!
The cloaked figure, leaning on his sword with one hand, complied, twitching the hood back from his face.
Aylus gaped in astonishment and embarrassment. This was the warrior he had admired and saved? A young maiden's face, pale under a deep tan, stared up at the company with wide eyes.
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Sellevorn sighed and removed her hood. She knew there was no way she could be mistaken for anything but a maiden, given her stature, build and face, but she had hoped to prove her prowess in battle first. Being wounded and at the mercy of a company of rangers had not figured in her calculations. Straightening up to her full, albeit unimpressive stature, she prepared to speak.
she paused a moment, gathering her courage, I come from Rohan to aid Osgiliath against the forces of Sauron and Saruman.
Aylus' eyes traveled over the maiden's body, taking in the bleeding gash on her leg through the scandalous leggings she wore, the man's tunic which was far too long for her short stature, and the delicate features of her face, offset by a recently broken nose and flyaway, yellow-streaked brown hair. He could not control a short, disbelieving laugh at this strange maiden.
Toldion, too, nearly gave way to mirth as laughter spread among his men, but he was able to maintain a suitably stern expression.
he began gently, then stopped.
My name is Sellevorn. the maiden broke in.
Mistress Sellevorn, Toldion continued,It would be unwise of me, to say the least, to allow you to risk yourself in battle.
'Twould be unwise of you, sir, to ignore an able soldier in a time of war! she broke in, angered.
But my lady, you are injured, and a woman, Toldion pointed out.
In his next breath he found himself sprawled on the ground at the point of a sword. Sellevorn glared down at him.
And you were just bested by this injured woman, she said sweetly from her stance above him.
Toldion raised an eyebrow and rose gracefully from the ground, one hand still clasped about the cut on his arm.
Aylus gave a low growl, angry to see his commander bested by this upstart maiden.
Fight someone not caught off his guard! he challenged her, stepping in front of Toldion.
Sellevorn responded, raising her sword.
Toldion's voice, sharp as a whipcrack, broke through Aylus' anger. You challenge a lady? His eyes showed surprise and disappointment.
Aylus cursed and stepped back. Why had he challenged a lady when she should not even be carrying a sword? He shook his head at his own stupidity.
He challenges a warrior, Sellevorn said coldly. If you do not accept me as such now, perhaps your mind will change when war is upon you. Go where you will, I ride for Osgiliath.
Toldion sighed, you may come with us. We ride for Henneth Annûn. Perhaps, once she reached the stronghold, she could be persuaded to remain there instead of going to Osgiliath.
With a wary expression, Sellevorn sheathed her sword and called for Faerloss, mounting quickly. Once her back was turned, Aylus turned to Toldion, forgetting to address his commander with the proper respect.
Are you out of your head? he hissed. Showing this strange maiden Henneth Annûn?
Toldion did not even dignify the comment, but turned away and summoned his own horse.
I suggest you mount up, he said coldly to Aylus, and rode off.
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Aylus rode at the rear of the company, in bad humor. He snuck a hate-filled glare at his companion, Sellevorn. Why Toldion had put it upon him to stay with the lady when he knew Aylus did not even like to talk to his fellow rangers... this punishment was going too far, considering his actions had been fully justified.
Sellevorn tried to ignore the Ranger riding at her side. Her leg was paining her a great deal, but she did not enjoy admitting that in front of the man who believed her weak in any case. However, when blood began to pool in her boot, she could not keep her attention from it any longer. Sighing, she used her knife to hack a long strip from the bottom of her already-threadbare tunic. She wrapped the makeshift bandage about her leg and tied it off, sitting awkwardly on Faerloss.
Aylus ignored the maiden's contortions. He had decided this was the best course of action for the time being, though in the silence it was difficult to refrain from remembering his fallen companions. It occupied him better to focus on his intense anger. If the maiden had not come to aid them and gotten herself surrounded by Uruk-Hai, perhaps he could have saved his friends when he heard Tolmir's cry, instead of protecting this upstart wench.
A voice broke in on his thoughts, a high-pitched, slightly grating voice. It was the maiden, Sellevorn.
Is Henneth Annûn far from here?
he ground out from between clenched teeth. We should arrive shortly.
That is good.
It is not good! YOU should not even be coming with us! Aylus rubbed his aching temples and cursed the Valar for bringing this misguidedly heroic maiden on the rangers of Ithilien.
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Ionedhûr stood atop a ridge, looking out for the return party. Though he was not blessed with the senses of an Elf, he searched the horizon with all his might. The sun had risen red today, and a breeze whipped his short hair, carrying the scent of death.
The air is full and ringing
with your voice calling my name
I hear the song you are singing
I will never be the same.
He stood a moment, frozen on the hill. Faintly he saw the outline of fifteen riders and seventeen horses. Blinking, he counted again. The reduced number of riders was easily, though sadly, explained, but where had they found another horse? A rather well-bred one at that, looking like one of the horses of Rohan... Well, further questions and answer would have to wait until the party arrived in Henneth Annûn.
Disclaimer: I own nothing here mentioned by Tolkien in any of his books. I do own all of the characters which have so far been seen, and the poetry.
