Chapter Thirty-Three: Disobeying
A/N: Okay, there is an Air Force jodie in here that I particularly like. It's really awesome. Oh, and uh, just so everybody remembers, Eowyn is battling the King of the Nazgul and Aila is calling her wraiths to her … but instead of the usual likenesses, she finds four that stand out from the rest, special for this particular task … I love this chapter. I love the next chapter even more, though. You'll love it to. Trust me.
…
The first was wearing a green uniform, chest shimmering with ribbons and medals of valor. In her hand she held a M-16 rifle, handling the weapon as if it were a feather. Fierce determination was set upon her face and her hair was tied back in a tight bun at the base of her head, beneath a service cap of the Army.
Secondly, there stood another uniformed likeness of herself, only wearing the white uniform of the Navy. Pants flared slightly at the heels, her chest also shimmered with metals, but there was also a silver anchor brass above her name plate and at her side she twirled a grenade strapped to her belt.
Thirdly, there was a most curiously uniformed wraith, a saber drawn in her hand. Her face painted with camouflage and she wore forest camou' BDUs and her combat boots were laced up tight and shined so that she could use them as a mirror. She almost laughed at the Marine likeness of herself, so set with determination and willingness to fight for anything.
Finally, her eyes fell upon the last of the wraiths. In a blue flight jumpsuit, a parachute strapped on, reflective helmet clutched lightly in her hand, there stood the Air Force fighter pilot wraith, a grim smile set crudely upon her face, smeared slightly with perspiration, she donned pilot's glasses, round and dark, her name flashing on the right of her chest, MANNINGS in bold black letters, faded with use. A pilot's jacked, lined with the traditional tan faux fur, collar pulled up was wrapped around her, gum chewed arrogantly in her mouth.
A flash enveloped Aila's eyes and she had an out of body experience. It was as if the world had stopped moving and she was just inside herself. As if nothing more existed except her mind. She became suddenly aware of everything that went on within her mind. She felt the librarians bustling about and storing memories in a vast library of files, dust clinging to their glasses; she felt the wraiths processing and computing information that her five senses sent through to them. Aila was in tune with her mind, her senses sharpened to that very thing, and whales ceased to swim about in their watery walls, airplanes froze midair in the skies, stars failed to twinkle, suns stopped glowing, moons fell from their lofty heights, fish darted behind rocks, birds crashed into trees.
Her mind was alive, but now she was fully aware of it. She shook herself out of her shock, remembering her task at hand, and worked hard at getting her four military wraiths into the Shadow Wraith's mind. Something happened next that she could never have prepared herself for.
She simply could not FIND the wraith's mind. It was as if it didn't exist and no matter how hard she tried, she could not discover his mind, within the recesses of mental thought waves and communication. Wincing with concentration, she pushed her wraiths onward, sailing a mid-air submarine, driving a tank, running on foot, and flying an airplane. There was one place she was able to find.
Wraiths that looked like kings, with circlets upon their heads and royal garb around their bodies, but they looked starved, ill-fed, and needy. They paid no heed to her four wraiths, but continued to open and close doors and each end of the chamber, allowing a sticky red liquid to flow ankle deep through the chamber and out the other door. A "thud thump, thud thump" was heard reverberating through the room, but it was faded, as if it no longer had the will to continue its actions. Somehow or other, Aila had found the Wraith's heart, but as quickly as she had entered, she felt herself bodily thrown out, back into the recesses of her own dark mind.
Her wraiths had failed her. There was nothing that they could do, and though they seemed remorseful enough, Aila regretted it deep in her soul. Turning her attention back to Eowyn, who had already cast off her hood, her golden hair floating in the wind, she stood and continued to challenge the Ring wraith. In her face she saw something that scared her: the face of one that goes seeking death, having no hope. Something seemed familiar in her expression though, and she remembered seeing the same expression on Legolas' face as he had forbidden her to come with them to Gondor. Was that why he hadn't wanted her to come? Because he thought they would all die? Did he have no more hope for life?
Still before her, Aila watched as Eowyn took a terrible, but beautiful, stroke with her sword, and the winged creature that had bore the Ring wraith fell beheaded to the ground. She took another swipe, but this time there was a ringing crash, as the wraith brought his own sword to his, and forced his blade deep into her shoulder, before she could counter.
Behind the wraith, Aila watched, wide-eyed, still cowering on the ground, knowing there was nothing for her to do, she saw small movements, and remembered the roll that others played in the demise of the Ring wraith. A small sword flashed up and took the wraith between the shoulders, before Eowyn gave one last effort and beheaded the King of the Nazgul, the crown fell to the ground and rolled away.
"Eowyn! Eowyn!" cried Merry, as he pulled his sword from the cloak that sheltered nothing, the wraith's body having disappeared.
Knowing she no longer had a place there, Aila tottered unsteadily to her feet, still stunned from her fall from Geo, who had remained loyally at her side. She sent him to the other horses and drew her bow. Striding forward to the battle, she came within bowshot of those that battled in the fields below her and she pulled an arrow from her quiver and mounted it to her bowstring. Sighting along her shaft, Aila pulled together all of the archery training she had ever had in her life, since Freshman year. Only five years had she been practicing her archery, and it seemed like such a short time, but after Legolas' small tutorial, she knew that she could at least try.
Letting all fly, she shot all of her arrows in rapid succession, watching with grim pleasure as the orcs fell screaming, some with arrows through the heads, other their throats, and even more their chests or stomachs. Only twice did she miss her mark, and when she was finished she began to run, charging haphazardly into the battle.
…
Aila's sword rose and fell, its bright red, fiery light burning through orc-necks like hot fire, though it held the cold bite of steel. She battled through the crowds of orc towards the stranded riders of Rohan, who stood like an island amidst a sea of foul orcs. A stench floated on the air and she wrinkled her nose against it but held her military bearing and pushed onward through the orcs, ever conscious of those battling behind her and on her sides.
A golden head shimmered before her and she battled toward it through orcs, thinking that it was Eomer who fought the enemy so close to her. But upon reaching the clearing, she saw that it was Legolas, fighting with his twin elven blades.
"Legolas!" she called to him as she reached him. "Need any help?" she asked grimly, joking slightly as she faced the orcs. He face was surprised and angry at the same time when he heard her voice.
"What are you doing here?" he shouted over the growl and screech of orcs. "I told you to stay at Dunharrow with Eowyn."
"Oh I stayed with Eowyn all right, but this isn't the place to argue over it, now is it, dearest friend?" Her tone was light, but she bit her lip in grim determination as her sword shone bright red and then turned to a fiery orange, sparks flying from the blade. Orc blood ran along its blood channel and warmed the cold steel so that it even omitted heat. Aila struggled to Legolas and put her back against his and Aila found Legolas working them back out of the fray, toward the walls of the great city.
After many minutes of struggling against the orcs, their swords biting into their evil necks, Legolas grabbed Aila's forearm and dragged her out of the battle, pulling her behind the lines of their comrades who defended them.
"Go to the city," commanded Legolas, his eyes full of fury. "Go to the city and stay there until the battle is over."
"No!" replied Aila, fury gathering in her eyes. "I didn't come all this way to sit around and wait!" Dark clouds filled the sky and her face was darkened, and she knew that she looked forbidding, but when she looked upon Legolas' light face, the sky darkened him as well and he looked malevolent and angry. She knew very well the harm that he could inflict upon her, if ever the mood took him, but thankfully he never had such moods.
"Go!" said Legolas, turning his back to her.
"Legolas!" she cried against the whipping wind, grabbing his shoulder and pulling him around toward her. He rounded back onto her and looked menacingly down that she would disobey him like that. "You know very well that once you go back into that fight that I will throw myself back into the battle while you back is turned!"
"No, you won't!" he said, his voice held bite, but there was something else, like profound concern. "Eomer!" he called to the man who was fighting the orcs several feet from them in the defending line of men. "Take Aila up to the city and make sure she stays there. Then come back and battle, my friend." Eomer nodded and came to take Aila by the forearm, but she screamed in frustration, causing both Eomer and Legolas to step back in surprise.
It was a scream so unearthly and so unlike her deep voice, high-pitched and shrieking, so long and unwavering, a single note searing through the cold air. She screamed, thrusting her head upwards before bringing her face back down to them and brought her sword up to mid-height. Eomer and Legolas watched in surprise for a moment, before Eomer began to come toward her once again.
Desperate, Aila darted through the line of fighters and back into the fray, screaming as she went.
"AIR FORCE!" was her battle cry, shouting it to the black heavens as she tore down orcs before you. "If you want me," she cried back to her two surprised friends, "come and get me! AIR FORCE!" With that she plunged deeper into the waves of orcs and was lost.
"We have to go after her," said Eomer, who recovered first from his shock over her actions. "Come on, Legolas, let us find her together!" Nodding determinedly, Legolas plunged into the orcs after her, following the bright light of her blade and her fading battle-cries.
Aila began to hum jodies and sound-offs that she made up as she went along, hewing orc-heads from their shoulders and she laughed insanely as though she no longer thought about what she was doing, lost in the heat of the battle.
"We are the Air Force,
Mighty, mighty Air Force
Better than the Army
The land-loving Army,
Better than the Navy
The deck-swabbing Navy,
Better than the Coast Guard,
The lazy, lazy Coast Guard.
We are the Air Force,
Mighty, mighty Air Force!"
(a/n: yeah, this is an awesome jodie, I didn't make it up, either. Oh, yeah, um, jodies are little thingies that you keep your cadence to, so you keep on step while you march or double-time, so they always have a rhythm)
Legolas and Eomer found her in the midst of that particular jodie, which she sang repeatedly. Her sword strokes fell into the rhythm of the beat and her sword fighting was greatly improved by it. Orcs dropped like flies before her. Knowing he could not drag her out of battle again, as she laughed insanely, hewing off the heads of orcs, Legolas instructed Eomer to help him form a triangle with Aila.
He had never seen Aila act the way he was witnessing now. Of course, he had never seen her in such a large battle, but she seemed to be driven by some inner fire that hated all of the orcs and wished desperately to do as much harm to them, with little thought of her own welfare, as possible. In her eyes he saw the willingness to protect. Even Aila knew that she had the true heart of an American fighter, willing to give her own life in the protection of her friends and even the welfare of those she didn't even know, so they could have a better life than she did.
Legolas felt almost proud to be fighting beside her, as she chuckled at the horror of the orcs who wished evil upon her friends, as they sputtered and died, swallowing their own blood. Sometimes she talked to them, like they were the only ones around, she laughed at them and jeered them, made fun of their slathering mouths. She made remarks toward their horrible hygiene and asked what dentist they went to, so they could avoid that doctor like all hell. Dermatologists seemed to be another favorite subject of hers, though neither Legolas or Eomer knew what she was talking about.
Then she went rambling on about airplanes, whatever those were, and the destruction that they could inflict upon the army, if only she had one, instead of a stupid sword. The quiver was still on her back, but she had long spent her last arrow, and her bow was at her side as well. She recited things that Eomer caught as a "Code of Honor" and a "Code of Conduct." The "National Chain of Command" was repeated several times as well, as Aila laughed and joked with the orcs, who never responded, but battled ever onwards.
"Look, look!" she cried, and the two thought that she was still rambling aimlessly, but when she continued, they took heart in her words. "The Ring-bearer has succeeded in his task! The shadow is retreating! We will win the war yet! How do you like that, orcs, I daresay you're not liking that bit of news. Well go home and cry to your mommies while their knit you booties because you will never feel the pleasures of life once I am done with you!"
"We need to get her out of here," Legolas said to Eomer, who nodded grimly.
"I will guard you," said Eomer, "while you pick her up and we will fight a path to the edge." Legolas called the affirmative and the action was put into play. Before Aila could do anything Legolas pulled her sword from her hand and thrust her across his shoulders and started running after Eomer, who was already plowing a path through the orcs. The ferocity of his attacks pushed the evil things away, disheartened by the destruction of the ring. Aila's head bounced against Legolas' back as he ran, so she wrapped her arms around his middle, to keep herself from bouncing. A headache was already forming as it was.
She closed her eyes and soon found her feet placed back on the ground, Legolas steadying her shoulders. Standing there for a few moments, Aila realized that Legolas was calling her name.
"Aila, Aila!" She opened her eyes and stared blankly into his blue eyes. They held concern and worry, and behind him she saw that the battle was dying down. The orcs were defeated. They had won. "Aila …" he whispered, his face so close to hers that she felt his breath on her cheek. She shivered for some odd reason and something swelled in her chest, it felt so right to have Legolas whisper her name, to be so close … but she knew it was just her delirium in the midst of battle. Nodding that she was all right to Legolas, she turned and started to walk away, up the hill toward the city, but didn't make it past several feet before she collapsed wearily to the ground. Looking to her right side, she saw a deep cut through her tunic. How she wished now that she had gotten chain mail! Blood poured onto the ground and the sight made her sick.
Legolas rushed up to her and dropped to his knees, putting his hand to the wound to stop the bleeding. Far away, he saw Aragorn still battling with the remaining orcs.
"Eomer!" Legolas shouted. "Go, get Aragorn, Aila is hurt!" His last word were enough to send Eomer speedily towards Aragorn. He grabbed a nearby horse, who ironically was Geo, wandering around rider-less. He thrust himself onto Geo's back and sent him with all speed to Aragorn.
Shortly, he returned with Aragorn upon the horse as well, who jumped off before the horse had even made a proper stop. He sprinted to Aila and Legolas, where he pulled Legolas' hand from her side. Carefully, he unbuttoned her tunic and pulled up her shirt to the bottom of her rib-cage, so that her stomach and waist were revealed. Rolling her onto her side, Aragorn called for water and cloth to mend the wound. As he did his healing duties, Legolas saw Aila whispering under her breath and he strained his elven hearing to catch her words.
"Our father who art in heaven, hallowed be thy name, thy kingdom come, thy will be done," here she winced in pain, her face contorted horribly. He fell to his knees once more and stroke hair from her face in a comforting manner. But she didn't pay any heed to him and continued. "On earth as it is in heaven. Give us this day our daily bread, and forgive us our trespasses as we forgive those who trespass against us. And lead us not into temptation …" here again she winced and cried aloud in the pain, tears springing onto her dirty cheeks. "And deliver us from evil …" she stopped her again, to take in its meaning. They had been delivered from evil, that very day. "For thine is the kingdom and the power and the glory, forever and ever, Amen."
She ended her prayer with another scream of agonized pain before Legolas could soothe her.
"That is all I can do for her here," said Aragorn, looking up the elf and Marshal. "One of you must take her to the healing houses of the city and they will tend for her better there. Go swiftly, she is still in great pain." Nodding, Legolas aided her in standing up, before handing her up to Eomer, who placed her in front of him in the saddle.
"Go with all speed!" said Legolas to the lord. "I will be up shortly. Stay with her, friend." Nodding shortly, Eomer kicked the steed into a full-out gallop and quickly made his way toward the city that loomed nearer with every step.
Eomer had been within the great Gondor city once before, on business of the King's to the steward of the city. He knew vaguely where the Healing Houses were and hastened toward them. Some, realizing that Aila was injured, pointed him in the right direction as he galloped.
He clung tightly to her, placed in front of him, limp against his body. He reveled in the feeling, but dutifully raced her to the healers, who received her quickly. Many other injured men who laying groaning around multiple sickrooms. Some of their heads were bandaged and bloody, while others had stumps of arms and legs tightly bound. The sight made Aila sick as she walked limply in Eomer's arms to a near bed, where a healer was awaiting her.
"Now, now, what do we have here?" asked the motherly healer, tutting in a soothing voice. "A woman! What was she doing out in the fields, master?" she asked Eomer, who told her that she had come as a man. The healer tutted again and began to administer concoctions to her exposed wound in her side, encrusted with blood. The woman called for bandages and athelas, as well as several other healing remedies and pain relievers. Eomer held Aila's hand the entire time, offering his support as she writhed in pain. After the athelas was administered and her middle was tightly wrapped, Aila calmed down and the woman deemed her healthy enough to be moved to her own room, so that she could rest over the next few days while the wound healed.
Eomer pulled her from the cot and supported her once more, leading her in the direction that the woman had pointed, going to one of the private sickrooms. Aila limped beside him, leaning heavily on his shoulder, constantly thanking him for his steadfastness and friendship. Several times he laughed, telling her that he need not thank him, but rather heal as quickly as possible.
"I hope I do, too," she said, smiling weakly at him. He set her down upon and pulled the covers up to her chin.
"I am going to find Legolas," he said. "I am sure he would wish to be here. I will return shortly." Aila nodded and fell asleep once Eomer left.
…
Review Please.
A/N: Okay, there is an Air Force jodie in here that I particularly like. It's really awesome. Oh, and uh, just so everybody remembers, Eowyn is battling the King of the Nazgul and Aila is calling her wraiths to her … but instead of the usual likenesses, she finds four that stand out from the rest, special for this particular task … I love this chapter. I love the next chapter even more, though. You'll love it to. Trust me.
…
The first was wearing a green uniform, chest shimmering with ribbons and medals of valor. In her hand she held a M-16 rifle, handling the weapon as if it were a feather. Fierce determination was set upon her face and her hair was tied back in a tight bun at the base of her head, beneath a service cap of the Army.
Secondly, there stood another uniformed likeness of herself, only wearing the white uniform of the Navy. Pants flared slightly at the heels, her chest also shimmered with metals, but there was also a silver anchor brass above her name plate and at her side she twirled a grenade strapped to her belt.
Thirdly, there was a most curiously uniformed wraith, a saber drawn in her hand. Her face painted with camouflage and she wore forest camou' BDUs and her combat boots were laced up tight and shined so that she could use them as a mirror. She almost laughed at the Marine likeness of herself, so set with determination and willingness to fight for anything.
Finally, her eyes fell upon the last of the wraiths. In a blue flight jumpsuit, a parachute strapped on, reflective helmet clutched lightly in her hand, there stood the Air Force fighter pilot wraith, a grim smile set crudely upon her face, smeared slightly with perspiration, she donned pilot's glasses, round and dark, her name flashing on the right of her chest, MANNINGS in bold black letters, faded with use. A pilot's jacked, lined with the traditional tan faux fur, collar pulled up was wrapped around her, gum chewed arrogantly in her mouth.
A flash enveloped Aila's eyes and she had an out of body experience. It was as if the world had stopped moving and she was just inside herself. As if nothing more existed except her mind. She became suddenly aware of everything that went on within her mind. She felt the librarians bustling about and storing memories in a vast library of files, dust clinging to their glasses; she felt the wraiths processing and computing information that her five senses sent through to them. Aila was in tune with her mind, her senses sharpened to that very thing, and whales ceased to swim about in their watery walls, airplanes froze midair in the skies, stars failed to twinkle, suns stopped glowing, moons fell from their lofty heights, fish darted behind rocks, birds crashed into trees.
Her mind was alive, but now she was fully aware of it. She shook herself out of her shock, remembering her task at hand, and worked hard at getting her four military wraiths into the Shadow Wraith's mind. Something happened next that she could never have prepared herself for.
She simply could not FIND the wraith's mind. It was as if it didn't exist and no matter how hard she tried, she could not discover his mind, within the recesses of mental thought waves and communication. Wincing with concentration, she pushed her wraiths onward, sailing a mid-air submarine, driving a tank, running on foot, and flying an airplane. There was one place she was able to find.
Wraiths that looked like kings, with circlets upon their heads and royal garb around their bodies, but they looked starved, ill-fed, and needy. They paid no heed to her four wraiths, but continued to open and close doors and each end of the chamber, allowing a sticky red liquid to flow ankle deep through the chamber and out the other door. A "thud thump, thud thump" was heard reverberating through the room, but it was faded, as if it no longer had the will to continue its actions. Somehow or other, Aila had found the Wraith's heart, but as quickly as she had entered, she felt herself bodily thrown out, back into the recesses of her own dark mind.
Her wraiths had failed her. There was nothing that they could do, and though they seemed remorseful enough, Aila regretted it deep in her soul. Turning her attention back to Eowyn, who had already cast off her hood, her golden hair floating in the wind, she stood and continued to challenge the Ring wraith. In her face she saw something that scared her: the face of one that goes seeking death, having no hope. Something seemed familiar in her expression though, and she remembered seeing the same expression on Legolas' face as he had forbidden her to come with them to Gondor. Was that why he hadn't wanted her to come? Because he thought they would all die? Did he have no more hope for life?
Still before her, Aila watched as Eowyn took a terrible, but beautiful, stroke with her sword, and the winged creature that had bore the Ring wraith fell beheaded to the ground. She took another swipe, but this time there was a ringing crash, as the wraith brought his own sword to his, and forced his blade deep into her shoulder, before she could counter.
Behind the wraith, Aila watched, wide-eyed, still cowering on the ground, knowing there was nothing for her to do, she saw small movements, and remembered the roll that others played in the demise of the Ring wraith. A small sword flashed up and took the wraith between the shoulders, before Eowyn gave one last effort and beheaded the King of the Nazgul, the crown fell to the ground and rolled away.
"Eowyn! Eowyn!" cried Merry, as he pulled his sword from the cloak that sheltered nothing, the wraith's body having disappeared.
Knowing she no longer had a place there, Aila tottered unsteadily to her feet, still stunned from her fall from Geo, who had remained loyally at her side. She sent him to the other horses and drew her bow. Striding forward to the battle, she came within bowshot of those that battled in the fields below her and she pulled an arrow from her quiver and mounted it to her bowstring. Sighting along her shaft, Aila pulled together all of the archery training she had ever had in her life, since Freshman year. Only five years had she been practicing her archery, and it seemed like such a short time, but after Legolas' small tutorial, she knew that she could at least try.
Letting all fly, she shot all of her arrows in rapid succession, watching with grim pleasure as the orcs fell screaming, some with arrows through the heads, other their throats, and even more their chests or stomachs. Only twice did she miss her mark, and when she was finished she began to run, charging haphazardly into the battle.
…
Aila's sword rose and fell, its bright red, fiery light burning through orc-necks like hot fire, though it held the cold bite of steel. She battled through the crowds of orc towards the stranded riders of Rohan, who stood like an island amidst a sea of foul orcs. A stench floated on the air and she wrinkled her nose against it but held her military bearing and pushed onward through the orcs, ever conscious of those battling behind her and on her sides.
A golden head shimmered before her and she battled toward it through orcs, thinking that it was Eomer who fought the enemy so close to her. But upon reaching the clearing, she saw that it was Legolas, fighting with his twin elven blades.
"Legolas!" she called to him as she reached him. "Need any help?" she asked grimly, joking slightly as she faced the orcs. He face was surprised and angry at the same time when he heard her voice.
"What are you doing here?" he shouted over the growl and screech of orcs. "I told you to stay at Dunharrow with Eowyn."
"Oh I stayed with Eowyn all right, but this isn't the place to argue over it, now is it, dearest friend?" Her tone was light, but she bit her lip in grim determination as her sword shone bright red and then turned to a fiery orange, sparks flying from the blade. Orc blood ran along its blood channel and warmed the cold steel so that it even omitted heat. Aila struggled to Legolas and put her back against his and Aila found Legolas working them back out of the fray, toward the walls of the great city.
After many minutes of struggling against the orcs, their swords biting into their evil necks, Legolas grabbed Aila's forearm and dragged her out of the battle, pulling her behind the lines of their comrades who defended them.
"Go to the city," commanded Legolas, his eyes full of fury. "Go to the city and stay there until the battle is over."
"No!" replied Aila, fury gathering in her eyes. "I didn't come all this way to sit around and wait!" Dark clouds filled the sky and her face was darkened, and she knew that she looked forbidding, but when she looked upon Legolas' light face, the sky darkened him as well and he looked malevolent and angry. She knew very well the harm that he could inflict upon her, if ever the mood took him, but thankfully he never had such moods.
"Go!" said Legolas, turning his back to her.
"Legolas!" she cried against the whipping wind, grabbing his shoulder and pulling him around toward her. He rounded back onto her and looked menacingly down that she would disobey him like that. "You know very well that once you go back into that fight that I will throw myself back into the battle while you back is turned!"
"No, you won't!" he said, his voice held bite, but there was something else, like profound concern. "Eomer!" he called to the man who was fighting the orcs several feet from them in the defending line of men. "Take Aila up to the city and make sure she stays there. Then come back and battle, my friend." Eomer nodded and came to take Aila by the forearm, but she screamed in frustration, causing both Eomer and Legolas to step back in surprise.
It was a scream so unearthly and so unlike her deep voice, high-pitched and shrieking, so long and unwavering, a single note searing through the cold air. She screamed, thrusting her head upwards before bringing her face back down to them and brought her sword up to mid-height. Eomer and Legolas watched in surprise for a moment, before Eomer began to come toward her once again.
Desperate, Aila darted through the line of fighters and back into the fray, screaming as she went.
"AIR FORCE!" was her battle cry, shouting it to the black heavens as she tore down orcs before you. "If you want me," she cried back to her two surprised friends, "come and get me! AIR FORCE!" With that she plunged deeper into the waves of orcs and was lost.
"We have to go after her," said Eomer, who recovered first from his shock over her actions. "Come on, Legolas, let us find her together!" Nodding determinedly, Legolas plunged into the orcs after her, following the bright light of her blade and her fading battle-cries.
Aila began to hum jodies and sound-offs that she made up as she went along, hewing orc-heads from their shoulders and she laughed insanely as though she no longer thought about what she was doing, lost in the heat of the battle.
"We are the Air Force,
Mighty, mighty Air Force
Better than the Army
The land-loving Army,
Better than the Navy
The deck-swabbing Navy,
Better than the Coast Guard,
The lazy, lazy Coast Guard.
We are the Air Force,
Mighty, mighty Air Force!"
(a/n: yeah, this is an awesome jodie, I didn't make it up, either. Oh, yeah, um, jodies are little thingies that you keep your cadence to, so you keep on step while you march or double-time, so they always have a rhythm)
Legolas and Eomer found her in the midst of that particular jodie, which she sang repeatedly. Her sword strokes fell into the rhythm of the beat and her sword fighting was greatly improved by it. Orcs dropped like flies before her. Knowing he could not drag her out of battle again, as she laughed insanely, hewing off the heads of orcs, Legolas instructed Eomer to help him form a triangle with Aila.
He had never seen Aila act the way he was witnessing now. Of course, he had never seen her in such a large battle, but she seemed to be driven by some inner fire that hated all of the orcs and wished desperately to do as much harm to them, with little thought of her own welfare, as possible. In her eyes he saw the willingness to protect. Even Aila knew that she had the true heart of an American fighter, willing to give her own life in the protection of her friends and even the welfare of those she didn't even know, so they could have a better life than she did.
Legolas felt almost proud to be fighting beside her, as she chuckled at the horror of the orcs who wished evil upon her friends, as they sputtered and died, swallowing their own blood. Sometimes she talked to them, like they were the only ones around, she laughed at them and jeered them, made fun of their slathering mouths. She made remarks toward their horrible hygiene and asked what dentist they went to, so they could avoid that doctor like all hell. Dermatologists seemed to be another favorite subject of hers, though neither Legolas or Eomer knew what she was talking about.
Then she went rambling on about airplanes, whatever those were, and the destruction that they could inflict upon the army, if only she had one, instead of a stupid sword. The quiver was still on her back, but she had long spent her last arrow, and her bow was at her side as well. She recited things that Eomer caught as a "Code of Honor" and a "Code of Conduct." The "National Chain of Command" was repeated several times as well, as Aila laughed and joked with the orcs, who never responded, but battled ever onwards.
"Look, look!" she cried, and the two thought that she was still rambling aimlessly, but when she continued, they took heart in her words. "The Ring-bearer has succeeded in his task! The shadow is retreating! We will win the war yet! How do you like that, orcs, I daresay you're not liking that bit of news. Well go home and cry to your mommies while their knit you booties because you will never feel the pleasures of life once I am done with you!"
"We need to get her out of here," Legolas said to Eomer, who nodded grimly.
"I will guard you," said Eomer, "while you pick her up and we will fight a path to the edge." Legolas called the affirmative and the action was put into play. Before Aila could do anything Legolas pulled her sword from her hand and thrust her across his shoulders and started running after Eomer, who was already plowing a path through the orcs. The ferocity of his attacks pushed the evil things away, disheartened by the destruction of the ring. Aila's head bounced against Legolas' back as he ran, so she wrapped her arms around his middle, to keep herself from bouncing. A headache was already forming as it was.
She closed her eyes and soon found her feet placed back on the ground, Legolas steadying her shoulders. Standing there for a few moments, Aila realized that Legolas was calling her name.
"Aila, Aila!" She opened her eyes and stared blankly into his blue eyes. They held concern and worry, and behind him she saw that the battle was dying down. The orcs were defeated. They had won. "Aila …" he whispered, his face so close to hers that she felt his breath on her cheek. She shivered for some odd reason and something swelled in her chest, it felt so right to have Legolas whisper her name, to be so close … but she knew it was just her delirium in the midst of battle. Nodding that she was all right to Legolas, she turned and started to walk away, up the hill toward the city, but didn't make it past several feet before she collapsed wearily to the ground. Looking to her right side, she saw a deep cut through her tunic. How she wished now that she had gotten chain mail! Blood poured onto the ground and the sight made her sick.
Legolas rushed up to her and dropped to his knees, putting his hand to the wound to stop the bleeding. Far away, he saw Aragorn still battling with the remaining orcs.
"Eomer!" Legolas shouted. "Go, get Aragorn, Aila is hurt!" His last word were enough to send Eomer speedily towards Aragorn. He grabbed a nearby horse, who ironically was Geo, wandering around rider-less. He thrust himself onto Geo's back and sent him with all speed to Aragorn.
Shortly, he returned with Aragorn upon the horse as well, who jumped off before the horse had even made a proper stop. He sprinted to Aila and Legolas, where he pulled Legolas' hand from her side. Carefully, he unbuttoned her tunic and pulled up her shirt to the bottom of her rib-cage, so that her stomach and waist were revealed. Rolling her onto her side, Aragorn called for water and cloth to mend the wound. As he did his healing duties, Legolas saw Aila whispering under her breath and he strained his elven hearing to catch her words.
"Our father who art in heaven, hallowed be thy name, thy kingdom come, thy will be done," here she winced in pain, her face contorted horribly. He fell to his knees once more and stroke hair from her face in a comforting manner. But she didn't pay any heed to him and continued. "On earth as it is in heaven. Give us this day our daily bread, and forgive us our trespasses as we forgive those who trespass against us. And lead us not into temptation …" here again she winced and cried aloud in the pain, tears springing onto her dirty cheeks. "And deliver us from evil …" she stopped her again, to take in its meaning. They had been delivered from evil, that very day. "For thine is the kingdom and the power and the glory, forever and ever, Amen."
She ended her prayer with another scream of agonized pain before Legolas could soothe her.
"That is all I can do for her here," said Aragorn, looking up the elf and Marshal. "One of you must take her to the healing houses of the city and they will tend for her better there. Go swiftly, she is still in great pain." Nodding, Legolas aided her in standing up, before handing her up to Eomer, who placed her in front of him in the saddle.
"Go with all speed!" said Legolas to the lord. "I will be up shortly. Stay with her, friend." Nodding shortly, Eomer kicked the steed into a full-out gallop and quickly made his way toward the city that loomed nearer with every step.
Eomer had been within the great Gondor city once before, on business of the King's to the steward of the city. He knew vaguely where the Healing Houses were and hastened toward them. Some, realizing that Aila was injured, pointed him in the right direction as he galloped.
He clung tightly to her, placed in front of him, limp against his body. He reveled in the feeling, but dutifully raced her to the healers, who received her quickly. Many other injured men who laying groaning around multiple sickrooms. Some of their heads were bandaged and bloody, while others had stumps of arms and legs tightly bound. The sight made Aila sick as she walked limply in Eomer's arms to a near bed, where a healer was awaiting her.
"Now, now, what do we have here?" asked the motherly healer, tutting in a soothing voice. "A woman! What was she doing out in the fields, master?" she asked Eomer, who told her that she had come as a man. The healer tutted again and began to administer concoctions to her exposed wound in her side, encrusted with blood. The woman called for bandages and athelas, as well as several other healing remedies and pain relievers. Eomer held Aila's hand the entire time, offering his support as she writhed in pain. After the athelas was administered and her middle was tightly wrapped, Aila calmed down and the woman deemed her healthy enough to be moved to her own room, so that she could rest over the next few days while the wound healed.
Eomer pulled her from the cot and supported her once more, leading her in the direction that the woman had pointed, going to one of the private sickrooms. Aila limped beside him, leaning heavily on his shoulder, constantly thanking him for his steadfastness and friendship. Several times he laughed, telling her that he need not thank him, but rather heal as quickly as possible.
"I hope I do, too," she said, smiling weakly at him. He set her down upon and pulled the covers up to her chin.
"I am going to find Legolas," he said. "I am sure he would wish to be here. I will return shortly." Aila nodded and fell asleep once Eomer left.
…
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