KT SHY: Ai yi yi! It's been way more than a month hasn't it? I've been spending most creative time this summer drawing so there wasn't much inspiration to work on this poor little fanfic. When inspiration finally hit, my computer fried. Warning to all: Do not buy Net Vista computers… hell just don't buy IBMs in general. ANYWAYS enough excuses, I'll get on to the thankses so we can proceed to the long overdue next chapter of…
Eye on the Prize
Act XI: How to Butcher a Masterpiece (in 7,410 words or less)
KT SHY: Whups! Forgot the thank-yous! Special thanks to i48, Scichan Hirameki, Fernie, starbrat, SARA, JungMinee012, Slinker/Stinker, AtmaWeapon, aznaticme, Yugure, Spamwarrior, Darth T-Rtex, Pistachio Torte aaaaand YunSuks ChunSah!!!
I dedicate this silly yet well-intentioned story to J. R. R. Tolkien.
KT SHY: Roll em'…
'… and after the war is ended I'll see to it that Éowyn exclaims "who's yo' daddy!?" while baking me cookies!'
'It amazes me how well you stick to your convictions.' Saruman emptied the last few dark particles from a jar into a huge black and spiky vat.
'Éowyn Wormtongue… doesn't it have such a pleasant ring to it? Doesn't it just… pop? We'll get a place down in the Dead Marshes; it's a nicely affordable and spacious location!'
'Really.' said Saruman, pouring a carton of milk into the vat.
'I plan on having two kids and a dog. I'll name the dog Éomer and kick it twice daily!'
'Uh huh.' Saruman picked up a spoon and began to eat his breakfast.
'For the kids… I'm thinking Gremah for a boy and Creama for a girl…'
'Mmm hmm.' munch, munch.
'And we'll come over everyday on road trips to visit dear old uncle Saruman!'
'Gra-ck-ahhh-ghh!' The wizard choked, spraying breakfast in every which direction. One small particle bounced of Wormtongue's forehead and he looked down at it curiously.
'Oh look my lord… there appears to be an apple seed in your Darkened Apple Crisp Cereal!'
'… apple, eh?'
*Insert first few chords of evil Isengard music.*
'I'm going out. Watch the fort.' Saruman left Wormtongue alone in the dark tower, confused and drippy as usual.
***
Aragorn sat alone at a stone table in the Helms Deep dining hall. Quiet conversation broke the silence here and there amidst the solemn proceedings of dinner. The last organized meal anyone would have that day before battle preparations were finalized. There was a bowl of untouched broth before him and an empty wine flask to his left. His eyes were on the bowl, studying his reflection amidst the beef balls and mushy carrot bits. One particular noodle made him look as if he wore a mustache.
When did I get so old? he thought to himself.
The weight of all his travels had caught up with him again, as if he'd never yet had the chance to rest them off.
His thoughts went to Boromir. The poor unfortunate Gondorian. It wasn't as if Aragorn had never lost companions before, he'd buried many friends… but with the Fellowship in ruins, the quest given to him in Rivendell momentarily put aside, the impending onslaught of Isengard, the hope of Middle Earth running around in the hands of a psychotic demon wearing the form of a friend… well… it made loosing another companion feel all that much more agonizing.
He sighed sadly.
A gong sounded from somewhere below signifying that the meal was over and so the room cleared out. Aragorn watched the faces of the men and boys; ashen and afraid as they made their way toward the armory. Not all the warm food or ale in the world could lift such heavy spirits.
Aragorn pushed off, but instead of the armory he headed off to the outer wall to get a look at the terrain.
The land was empty of all life. Nothing grazed. Nothing twittered. Nothing buzzed. The green dale (more of a golden brown colour in actuality) stretched far; its grassy slopes lapping the ever mounting hills. He walked along the fortress wall, letting the chill breeze blow into his face, a rather refreshing feeling. The rustling of a Rohan flag caught his attention, the fabric pulling and stretching on its post. The rearing horse emblazoned upon it appeared to be dancing, ready for a fight –
The flag ripped off and whacked into Aragorn, who had to wrestle himself free. A bit ruffled, he watched it flutter down to the grass below. Not a good omen. If one was superstitious that is.
He continued his stroll until he met up with Gandalf, cloaked in white as usual, who was looking off into the horizon while chuckling and mumbling to himself. '… and behind us comes a very storm of Mordor. It will be a black night.'
Aragorn looked too. The storm clouds were quickly working their way toward them. From this vantage point it was easy to tell they originated from Mordor. What black devilry was afoot there he wasn't even sure he wanted to hazard a guess.
Poor Frodo.
***
'Poor Boromir.' whimpered Éowyn, she lay on a cot, wrapped in the ex-Gondorian's fur cloak, letting the tears stain her pillow. Éomer smoothed back her hair with his hand trying to comfort her. 'Sister… please do not weep. Not now anyway. I understand the pain of loosing a loved one but…' he choked on this, recalling his horse Firefoot who was kidnapped so cruelly by the creepy child with bad foot hygiene near Fangorn forest. Poor Firefoot. Was he eating right? Was he eating… at all?
Éomer broke down into tears at this thought, and it was Éowyn who sat up to comfort him.
'There, there my brother. All may not be well but at least we still have each other. We must stay strong for the people. We must abide our tears in silence.'
'I would if I could…' started Éomer holding up a piece of chicken, 'but these wings the chef made are just so spicy!'
'I knoooow!' Éowyn bawled taking another bite of hers. The two fair siblings embraced each other in their grief… both emotional and physical.
***
Legolas sat upon a barrel in the armory, honing the edge of his twin elven blades and watching the people of Rohan attempt to put on their armor with an unhappy expression on his face. Aragorn clunked heavily down the stairs, and upon making eye contact, was beckoned over by the elf.
'This is suicide Aragorn,' Legolas began in a hushed voice, 'the men here are either two old to fight or two young to hold their own. It is madness. They will not survive against the legions that Orthanc is sending.'
'What do you want me to do, Legolas?' said Aragorn in annoyed exasperation, 'This is the best we can throw at them without endangering any non combatants.'
'"Non combatants"? Aside from the actual soldiers that's exactly what everyone in Rohan is. Farmers and stable boys are being pit against blood lusting abominations of nature; it doesn't take a strategist to realize how this will end…'
Legolas began to speak in elvish so no one there would hear the sad discouraging truth.
'…Aragorn, nedin dagor hen ú-'erir ortheri. Natha daged dhaer!'
'Well if they're gonna be slaughtered brutally,' said Aragorn, his voice rising heatedly, 'and mercilessly by heartless gore-obsessed monsters then I shall troop it out with them and die in mangled pieces as well!'
Legolas slapped a hand to his forehead. Idiot.
Every eye in the room was focused on the two warriors, who looked around expecting mutiny to break out at any second. Aragorn fumbled for something to say…
'Uhhh… we were just talking abooouuuut….'
'Cock fighting.'
'Yeah! That's it! Boy do I hate chickens. They're trouble makers, every one!'
When the people all turned back to what they were doing, Aragorn drew near to Legolas. 'Understand that if we loose heart here, there will be no point in hoping for any victory against Mordor.'
The elf looked aside angrily, 'I know this.'
'Then keep believing. It's all we can do.' He patted Legolas' shoulder, and then left the room.
Why me? Aragorn sat alone upon a set of stone steps outside looking accusingly at his sword Andúril. It looked back innocently enough, but Aragorn knew it for what it was. The root of all his troubles.
'Just haaaaad to go and chop of Sauron's finger didn't you? You couldn't do the rest of him in? Oh no, you've left that for me to take care of.'
He sighed wearily. Then he focused his attention on the preparation happening around him. Men shouting orders, men following orders, men and boys already finished their armor dressing but unaware of what to do next. One young boy was looking particularly confused, unsure of how to handle the sword that was dealt to him. Aragorn called him over.
'Give me your sword.'
The boy looked up, then walked over to Aragorn, giving up his sword to the warriors expert inspection. Aragorn swung it a couple of times, tested the balance, and then looked down at the kid. 'What is your name?'
'Lucy, son of Albert Dreary…'
Figures.
'The men are saying we will not live out the night. They say that it is hopeless.'
Aragorn stood up, the boy's sword firmly in hand, and then did a couple swings followed up with a back flip. 'This is a good sword Lucy, son of Albert…. (pause)… I'll swap ya fer Andúril here.'
'… what!?'
'Yeah come on, it's the sword that struck down Sauron all those years ago!'
'But I don't want to bear the weight of your forefathers…'
Fricken kid! That was the problem with people these days, no sense of responsibility.
A little later Aragorn wandered (he does this a lot doesn't he?) up to the roof, looking for some solitude. No such luck, for there was Théoden, reclining on a lawn chair, wearing sunglasses, swim trunks, and holding a metal reflector pad on his chest to entice the sunbeams to bounce into his face. Aragorn looked up at the overcast twilight sky… not much sun there at all. Not to mention the fact that the air was frigid and that everyone else scurried from place to place in their warmest cloaks. No, Théoden was tough. Or insane. Or both.
'Just trying to regain some of the colour I lost during the Saruman manipulation,' Théoden explained in answer to Aragorn's curious expression. 'I'd gotten all pasty, wasn't looking good.'
'Huh.'
'Aragorn, be a dear and check if the enemy's here yet.' The king said, lifting up his shades a bit.
Aragorn looked over the side of the roof, 'Nope…'
'Ah good, I can utilize the last of today's sunshine then.' he slipped the glasses back on.
All was quiet for a time as Théoden continued his sun worshiping and Aragorn ran through his head just what it was he probably needed to talk to Théoden about. Despite his display of bravery and confidence, the Ranger couldn't help but feel a little disheartened over what Legolas had said. Victory on their side looked bleak no matter how he looked at it. The Mark could not defend Helms Deep alone.
'My lord,' Aragorn began, 'we must send for aid.'
'What?'
'Saruman's going to send the entirety of Isengard against us, we cannot fight them alone. Send for Gondor, they'll help us!'
'Gondor!? Gondor!?!? Where was Gondor when the Westfold fell? Where was Gondor when our enemies closed around us? Where was Gon…'
'Dwarves then.'
'Dwarves? One is funny enough, but a whole squadron? They'll be distracting the troops with their hilarious height-related antics.'
'Eagles?'
'You're just fishing for it now.'
'Hobbits!'
'Me thinks we rely too much on them as it is.'
'Dwarves!'
'You said that already.'
'Elves! Elves will come to our aid!'
'No.' Théoden chuckled darkly and without humor, 'The elves will not come. We are not so lucky in our friends as you. The old alliances are dead. We are alone.'
Suddenly a horn sounded from below. Aragorn ran to the side of the wall and looked down to identify the commotion. Éomer was shouting orders and men went about trying to quickly get the gate open. In front of the gate, horns still blowing, stood a small army of elves. Théoden looked down at this, then sharply over at Aragorn who was glowing. Aragorn so loved being right.
'I saw you smirking.' Théoden growled.
'It wasn't a smirk!' Aragorn defended.
'It was a smirk.'
'I wasn't smirking!'
'You were smirking.'
'……………. yeah okay, it was a smirk.'
The elves stood within the stony courtyard, all dressed in elegant armor and wielding long bows. There were about seventy of them, lined neatly in rows. The men and boys looked down on the display in amazement and with a little bit more faith in the prospect of winning against the approach of Isengard.
Aragorn, followed closely by Théoden (properly dressed), bounded down the stairs in twos to greet the elvish army.
Haldir stepped out from the ranks. 'Greetings to you. I bring word from…' but his words were cut off as Aragorn grabbed him in a fierce bear hug and swung him around in circles.
'You are most welcome here!' Aragorn grinned as the elf tried to regain his balance.
'Well, that was unorthodox…' Haldir steadied himself. 'Ah well, why bother with long winded speeches… we've come to get a piece of the action! Wooo! Let's kick some Orcish tail!'
The men and elves cheered together loudly, so loudly that they almost missed the distant sound of horns.
'That is no elf horn.' Legolas said narrowing his eyes. His words were accompanied by an ominous rumble overhead.
Aragorn looked up at the gathering black. 'The storm has finally arrived.'
***
All was dark aside from the lights of Helms Deep. There was no moon there were no stars. Even they had fled, fearful of the oncoming carnage. The low rumbles that came from the East were now being echoed in the West. But with the Westward din also came little flecks of light. First one. Then ten. Then hundreds. Then tens of hundreds… of thousands! The torches were carried by the orcs of Isengard, and they were terrifying to behold. The young boys in armor made to stand with the men tried to be brave at the sight of the nightmare that came to meet them. Horrid singing could be heard across the plain. Low, fierce, relentless. A battle song…
(KT SHY: Did someone say "musical?" Reader: No I… wait a minute… NOOOOOO!)
ORCS (In a low marching base that persists quietly throughout the scene):
Hum hum hum… riciti tikiti tikity dum… hum hum… riciti tikiti tik da-dum hum hum…
ARAGORN (Suiting up in the armory):
Come Legolas ready your bow
It's time to go to war.
There's little hope in victory,
But our trying will go down in lore.
Dark clouds assail us from the east
From westward come the villains.
My Andúril is ready to fight-
(Accenting the phrase with a swing of his blade)
Let's get to some blood spillin's!
ÉOMER (Pops into the scene by throwing open a window)
Here they come, oh me oh my
Whatever shall we do?
The women and children hide underneath
But of fighters we have few.
The soldiers are prepared to fight
And I've cast off my fear.
Now I can only hope and pray
I don't end up like Boromir…
Music stops.
ÉOMER (Confuzed): What was Boromir doing here anyway?
Pause.
Music resumes but at slower tempo.
ÉOWYN:
Theeeese hands were built for fighting…
(Handmaidens back her up: Ooooh la la la, la luuuuu)
… Not for baking or turning wool.
These hands were built to quench my carnal rage…
(Handmaidens back off nervously.)Today I make a vow,
To never hide away below,
Agaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaain!
(Song picks up in intensity.)Scene switches to Elrond trying to pry Arwen's hands off of one of the palace columns
ELROND:
Hurry daughter; get to the boat,
Take your hat and fancy coat,
I have no time for youthful grief,
Our parting words have to be brief.
ARWEN:
I cannot go; I love him still…
ELROND:
I'm your father, obey myyyy wiiiiiiiiiilllllllll!
BILL THE PONY (Lost and alone in the wilderness and also surrounded by wolves): BIIILLLLLLLLLLLL!
Merry, Pippin and Sam crouch together as they wander through the cave of Torech Ungol, Gimli walks nonchalantly behind them.
MERRY, PIPPIN and SAM:
Here we go around, around again,
Danger waiting 'round the next-a-bend,
Survive this day? Who knows, but then again,
What's become of our friends so faaaaaaaaar awaaaaaaaaaaaaaay?
SARUMAN (Accentuating and Overlapping):
The world of men will fall…
WORMTONGUE (Interrupting):
HURRAY!
Théoden stands atop the outer wall of Helms Deep, the wind is cold and it billows whipping his fur lined cape forward.
THÉODEN (Hastily):
I fear the breaching of this wall
Will see my people's final fall,
I can't allow this grievous fate,
There's too much evil on my plate,
It comes to us on blackened wings-
(Thrusts out his sword and gives a mighty battle cry to rally the troops)
FORWARD…….. Eorliiiiiiiiiiiiiing(a)s!
All parties now sing at once.
ARAGORN:
They say I will be King someday
Yet I face another test.
It appears that if your name is Aragorn
You never get any rest.
But now it's time to truly prove
My valor, wit and teeth.
Better prove to Rivendell I was worth their keep
So Iiiiiii'llll help saaaaaaaaaaaave-
ÉOWYN (Overlapping):
As I sit amidst the crying babes
And try to comfort all
I realize where I belong
Is up there with the squall.
It's uncomfortable down here on the stones
And the roof has sprung a leak.
Today's the last I'll sit on my @$$
As theeeeeyyy proooteeeeeeeeeect-
ORCS (Overlapping):
Hum hum hum…
riciti tikiti tikity dum…
hum hum…
riciti tikiti tik
da-dum hum
hum…
We will dine upon red flesh
When weeeee breeeeak dooooown-
SARUMAN (Overlapping):
I've planned so hard and planned so long
For this day to finally come.
My hopes to gain an easy rule
Will rise up with dawn.
To take this land, I extend my hand
And crown myself as Chief!
The world of men will surely fall
When weeeee taaaaake dooooown-
THÉODEN (Overlapping):
I'll cut the enemy right and left
-Alas these days that they be mine-
To ensure that life in Edoras
Extends beyond my time.
My people will fight and die against
These beasts that crawl and creep.
To ride, to death, to glory be
As weeeeeeeee deeeeeeeeeeeefend-
ARAGORN, ÉOWYN, ORCS, SARUMAN, THÉODEN:
HELMS DEEP!
Thunder crack.
The ground was as black with Uruk Hai as the sky was with clouds.
Threatening.
Rumbling.
As one the Uruk Hai began to pound the base of their weapons into the ground and beat upon their chests, creating a fearful racket. Men and elvin soldiers along the wall tensed, and then drew their bows at Aragorn's command, waiting… waiting…
Oh boy, Aragorn thought to himself, I was up all night practicing a huge heroic speech just for this moment… should I do it? Should I say it now? Alright here I…
But at that moment some twitchy old farmer sneezed and let fly his arrow. It struck one of the foremost Uruk Hai in the neck, killing it dead. The other monsters ceased their intimidating pounding and stared for a minute at where their comrade had stood. Théoden turned around, 'Who the f— who the $#@% did that!?'
And so it began.
The Uruks charged, screaming their rage, and at an order from Aragorn, Helms Deep rained out a shower of arrows.
'Again!'
Another volley.
'Once more for good luck!'
A third volley.
'Is this the best you can throw at us Saruman?' Théoden chuckled to himself.
Unnoticed by the king, a small perfect flake of snow descended from the sky, sat atop his shoulder plating a moment, then melted. Indeed, no one seemed to be aware of the snow at all – brought all those miles by the dark clouds overhead – until it began to gain in intensity. A few soft flakes gained in number and then the sky ripped open with icy pellets which launched down mercilessly upon the Uruks, yet for some reason left those within Helms Deep unscathed.
The fighting Uruk Hai threw ladders against the wall, and climbed speedily, shrieking in anticipation. But the rungs were quickly covered with ice which caused many of the climbers to slip and fall upon each other.
'The wind changes sporadically,' Legolas said to himself, ears listening to the howl, 'it is an unnatural storm…'
'Fire! Fire! Fire!' shouted Aragorn as volley after volley of arrows spit through the air. This was going way better than could have ever been hoped, the Uruks couldn't climb the wall; they couldn't enter the Deep! And as they slipped and slid on the quickly icing ground the elven archers made short work of anyone in range. The Uruks still outnumbered them in crazy amounts, but while no man or elf had yet fallen, at least one hundred of the enemy had already met their demise. Go people!
As if reading his thoughts the Uruk Hai retreated, regrouped, and then set their archers to task firing black arrows from their black bows. Their aim was poor due to the hail streaming into their faces, but hundreds of arrows shot in one general direction were bound to strike something and so Aragorn shouted an order for everyone to drop down and hold up their shields.
Thuck thud fwang sssshk!
'Anyone dead? No? Good. Fire at will!'
This carried on for a time. The hail gradually changed back to snow and the red ground below became blanketed in a cleansing white. Both sides had become increasingly lacking in the arrow department. Aragorn turned to Théoden. 'My lord, the ice on the walls is melting and I fear the enemy will attempt to climb again. We've become dangerously low on arrow supplies and can't drive them back from a distance anymore.'
'I see. Then the men will have to fight sword in hand after all. Gamling.'
'My lord?'
'Ready the men.'
'Yes my lord.'
'Well then, good Aragorn,' said Éomer striding up beside the Ranger, 'it is time at last for us to draw swords together!'
'Andúril! Andúril for the Dúnedain!' Aragorn shouted with the blade in hand.
Éomer drew his sword in a blur of steel, 'Gúthwinë! Gúthwinë for the Mark!'
Aragorn paused and then snickered, 'Gúthwinë? You named your sword Gúthwinë?'
'Whatever you say "Andúril".' Éomer retorted in a mocking tone.
'Hey! I didn't see your sword cut the Ring from any evil being's finger.'
'Well I –'
'Duck!' Legolas shoved the two men aside as a volley of darts rained upon where they had been standing.
'Hannon le…' said Aragorn, eyes wide.
'Yeah... what he said,' wheezed Éomer.
'No problem,' said the elf.
Suddenly, the bestial voices of the Uruks could be heard, taunting. 'Throw down your king!' they jeered, 'We will fetch him from his hole, if he does not come. Bring out your skulking king!'
Théoden crouched beside the two men and the elf, 'We're not gonna do that…. Right?'
Aragorn thought for a moment. 'Oh yes we are.'
Spotting movement from above the Uruks grew silent. Aragorn stood, legs apart and grinning ferociously. 'You want a king!? I'll give you a king!' And with a cry he lunged off the wall and cut down the foremost Uruk. The others shrieked as he spun in an arc, detaching knee caps and slapping thighs. However he was quickly overcome and dragged down to the cold ground. Though his head was buried in snow, he clearly heard the battle cries of Legolas and Éomer. The two leapt to his aid, Éomer powerfully swinging his sword and Legolas making quick work with his daggers.
Up above Théoden looked down at the skirmish. 'Man, if only I had a really big rock.'
Gradually realizing that pitting thirteen (a bunch of brave soldiers had also jumped the wall to help) against thousands wasn't such a bright idea, Legolas, Aragorn, and Éomer mutually decided in favor of a tactical withdrawal. They fanned out in small groups away from the scene of their fight, as the allies sent a hurdle of arrows down upon the Uruk's still there. Aragorn ran alone, chopping at enemies, cutting at catapult strings, and diving through the snow for cover (it made great camouflage… it had gotten so deep). He gradually found himself outside of the danger zone, and surveyed the area to see where he could be of most damage.
Hearing a chuckle above and to the right, he looked up sharply to see a lone Uruk atop a high sloping hill, packing down an ice ball in one hand. All together the Uruk-Hai at the bottom of the hill spread aside leaving a clear path for their comrade… Aragorn realized with a start what it was they were planning.
Sweet merciful Mayar! Aragorn's mind shouted, he's gonna roll the snow ball into a "giant bolder of doom ball" and let it smash into the wall!
Aragorn jumped out of the snow, revealing his position, but he didn't care. He had one chance…
Using all the speed he could muster, he reached into the snow, pulled out a hunk of the stuff, patted it into a perfect ball, aimed, then threw it at the Uruk-Hai.
Please…
THWACK!
'YES!' His aim was true. The Uruk had been efficiently capped. Yet Aragorn noticed, with the horror of slow-motion capture, that as the Uruk fell, the ice ball was released from its hand, and began to roll down the hill gaining in size.
'NO!' Aragorn ran, trying to intercept it but he was too far away. The ball rolled until it was the size of a large bolder. Uruks on each side of the path cheered as it rolled past them, nearer and nearer to the wall of Helms Deep.
He winced, as with a loud THUD the snow bolder ploughed into the wall… he waited. Nothing. The wall didn't break. Apparently the boulder wasn't big enough.
Aragorn sighed in relief. Then with a large explosion the wall blew apart.
***
Helms Deep interior – 15 minutes prior to the explosion
'Load another volley!'
The sound of arrows ripped through the air followed by shrieks from the enemy outside. Maintaining the effort it took to keep the Uruks from entering was wearing down on the men and elves. Not to mention their already miniscule supply of arrows. But Helms Deep was infamous for its ability to thwart all invasion attempts. No one could enter the flawless design unbidden. Helms Deep was impenetrable.
Knock, knock
'Aight… 'oos knockin' on th' door then?' Ofisor Bobie, one of Rohan's finest, strode over to have a look. Upon opening the door, he found himself facing an old apple woman. She was tall, wrinkled, had a white beard, and was in fact Saruman… but this never donned on the soldier as anything out of the ordinary.
'Oh dear,' said Saruman in a sad attempt to sound like a feeble old British lady, 'I just came by to sell my mouthwateringly delicious candy-like apples, but it appears there's a bit of a skirmish going on outside.'
Ofisor nodded, 'Well, as you c'n see mum… there's a war going on. Nasty business.'
'Ooh, makes my skin crawl!'
There was a brief awkward silence. Then Saruman said…
'Fancy a mouthwateringly delicious candy-like apple?'
After thanking the old lady, (who wandered off with a 'Lovely battle base you have here, meeeh nuh aaaaaugh!' and then took off at a sprint) Ofisor munched into the apple and went to stand beside Gandalf who was issuing orders.
'… out of ammunition!?!? Then throw livestock at them! Whatever you've got! The defenses have to hold, they haven't breached yet, nor do I intend for them to do so!' The wizard huffed as soldiers scrambled off in all directions to do his bidding. As the fruit-munching soldier beside him turned to follow as well, Gandalf noticed a burning fuse attached to the apple.
'Wait a moment! That's no simple apple. It's a bomb! And I know only one person who can make apple bombs –'
BOOM!!!!!!!
'-… Saruman!'
***
Through the shower of rubble, the cheer of the Uruks could be heard loud and fearsome. As one they all surged toward the gap in the wall.
'I need more arrows!' Legolas shouted at a soldier, watching helplessly as the screaming hordes rushed past.
'We're all out!' the man cried.
'Crap!' Legolas reached a hand deep into the snow and started rapid firing snowballs at the enemy as fast as he could.
Aragorn stumbled and swayed as he walked, his body in shock from being so near the roar of the explosion. He blinked twice, trying to clear the fogginess from his eyes. He heard his name called, but it sounded far away. Then the ground jumped up to meet him.
He opened his eyes, and there she was. His lady love, Arwen. She smiled radiantly, strumming a lulling tune on a golden harp.
'This… is a dream…' he said.
She tilted her head to the side, dark curls falling away to reveal a pale and slender neck, 'Then it is a good dream.'
They were in the garden sanctuary of Rivendell. Sunlight danced off the crystalline waters of a delicate bird-pool and reflected into Arwen's eyes.
Gods, he could be lost forever in those eyes.
Pink peddled flowers fell from overhead, tossed down from baskets happily held by Frodo, Pippin and Gimli who were wearing angel wings and soaring around the ceiling.
Okay… er…sure why not.
He smiled back up at Arwen who was sitting beside him now.
'And what shall wake the sleeping prince, asks I?' Her expensively flimsy dress slipped a bit, revealing her shoulder, 'Shall I give him a kiss?'
Arwen bent forward, a smile playing on her lips. He tilted his face up to meet hers, but then she immediately changed tactics, lifted up his arm, and started gnawing savagely on it.
'Ow! Err… Arwen, um that kind of hurts…gah! Tch… okay that really hurts, could you please stop…'
Suddenly Arwen turned into a ferocious Uruk-Hai and Aragorn rightly assumed that he was no longer dreaming.
'YAAARGH!' he punched out hard, connecting fist to face, and sent the monster spinning.
The Uruk-Hai, a bit put off that its mid-battle snack had come back to life, drew forth a battle axe and screamed in challenge at the man. Aragorn went for his sword, but then realized with a start that he must have dropped it when he fell. Looking desperately for a sword hole somewhere in the deep snow, he grimaced as the Uruk roared again, nearer this time. But being knee deep in the snow made it difficult to maneuver, especially with a heavy weapon and armor, and this bought Aragorn the few precious seconds he needed to spot exactly where his sword had fallen. The Uruk was upon him now, Aragorn threw a spray of snow into its face, dove as the creature swung angrily and blindly, scooped up his sword, and struck the Uruk's head clean off his shoulders.
'Fool,' he sighed, falling tiredly back onto the cold white powder, 'You should always let sleeping Dúnedains lie.'
***
Saruman giggled to himself. He made a habit to not giggle too often lest someone catch him at it… but he felt so durn good! Munching on an apple, he watched his creations, his fighting Uruk- Hai, storm the wall. Ah yes, The Battle for Helms Deep would be over in a matter of moments. He thought it best to watch the festivities from a safer location, so he turned and began to head up one of the sloping hills.
'Saruman! I have a right mind to put my boot up your ass!'
Saruman turned at the voice and was shocked to see Gandalf sprinting towards him, kicking his thighs high to move quickly through the snow.
'AUGH!' Saruman ducked behind a pile of orc bodies to his right. Gandalf tried to follow but whenever he ran around the pile Saruman kept running too, ensuring that the pile was always between them.'
'I can't understand why you would go and do such a thing!' Gandalf shouted at the ex-white Wizard, 'Siding with Sauron… what were you smoking to cause such a deficiency in common sense!? What of our missions as Istari!?'
'Oh you're one to criticize me!' Saruman shouted back, throwing his apple at the other Wizard, 'Always going off on your own adventures, never sticking around in one place long enough to take care of YOUR Istari responsibilities. Let me tell you, when you settle in one common location, those around you come to see you as a sort of spiritual figure, and people were ALWAYS calling on me to help them: "What's going to be the gender of my child?" "Will it rain today?" "Why am I so fat?" it gets so damn annoying!'
'If THAT'S what's been ruffling your skirt then why don't you just leave!?'
'Well what's the point in having a damn tower if you don't use it!?'
***
Men and elves shot desperately against the massing horde of Uruks who streamed through the gap in the wall like insects. Rocks, pots, trash, they threw anything they could get their hands on down upon the massing monsters. One of the Uruks pulled out a cross bow and shot at the group of soldiers above. The arrow struck Haldir right through the chest plate.
The elf looked down at the bolt in shocked annoyance, and then fell over the side yelling, 'I wasn't even supposed to be here todaaaaaaaaaay!'
'Aragorn! The enemy is swarming! There's too many! Pull our men back!' shouted Théoden urgently.
'Retreat! Retreat!' shouted Aragorn.
Once everyone had retreated to the inner sanctum, the giant wooden doors were barred, and not a moment too soon. The Uruk-Hai swelled against the hard wood, pounding and shrieking foul threats.
An order was made, and soon a squad of orcs came carrying a large battering ram. Within four minutes the door was splintered and shattered. Suddenly a low earth trembling sound filled the air, causing many of the enemy to clutch at their ears. The horn of Helm rang out deafening across the plane. Two of the forefront Uruks, unaffected by the noise, ripped the doors open, only to be ridden down by a horde of riders!
'To me! To me! Forth Eorlingas!' Theoden charged out on a horse of bright white majesty, brandishing his sword and a golden shield. Aragorn rode at his right hand, Éomer (still running) on his left, both shouting, 'To the king!'
Behind them rode a host of Rohirrim warriors, everyone crying, 'Helm! Helm! Helm is arisen and comes back to war! Helm for Théoden King!'
***
'Spoon!'
'Fork!'
'Spoon!'
'Fork!'
'Spoon!'
'Fork!'
'Confound it Saruman, how are you supposed to get at the broth at the bottom of the bowl with a fork!?' shouted Gandalf hurling another snowball.
'You tip the bowl and drink it. What are you, a man or a wizard?!' Sarman yelled back, heaving his own snowy assault.
But Gandalf wasn't paying attention anymore. His gaze was directed over Saruman's shoulder. 'Oh good, right on time.'
Saruman slowly shifted his gaze to follow where Gandalf was looking. 'YEEK!'
Where before had only been a snowy stretch of land now stood rows upon rows of trees, blocking the route from which the Uruks had come. No… they weren't standing… they were marching! The trees were marching! A flash back sequence suddenly and painfully slammed to the forefront of Saruman's mind.
He'd been sitting in an Easterling take out restaurant… alone as usual. His tummy hadn't agreed with that nights Oliphant special, but the tequila shots were damn good. As customary with the end of such meals, the waitress brought him a fortune coconut, which he opened with a subtle tap of his staff, 'Crack.'
The fortune, a greasy piece of parchment fell out, and he read it out of habit:
"Who chafes, who frets, or where conspirers are: Saruman shall never vanquished be, until Great Fangorn wood to high Rohirrim hill shall come against him."
Saruman just rolled his eyes, 'Well of course it'll come true, they're always so vaguely generic!'
End flashback.
Cornered on one side by the charging Rohan cavalry, the Uruks decided it best to make a strategic run-away.
'Look, there's a conveniently placed forest!' shouted one of the Uruk-Hai, 'Everyone, regroup in the trees! Then we'll give these men a taste of death!'
They ran in snarling droves under the shadow of the trees, unheeding the desperate shouts of Saruman.
The horses, unable to follow halted at the borders of the forest, spear men looking slightly disappointed. From somewhere in the heart of the mass of trees, a voice older than stone spoke, 'If a tree squashes an orc in the middle of the forest and there's no one around to hear, does it make a sound?'
'GYAAAHAAAARRR!' came an inhuman shriek.
'…guess so.'
'AHAHHAHAHA!' laughed Aragorn, 'Tree humor I get it, that's classic! I guess the oaks on them!'
'I don't get it.' said Éomer.
'Well aren't you an old sap!'
The men started to chuckle… partly from the bad jokes, partly because it had just started to dawn on them that they had won. Théoden looked like he was about to pass out and topple off his horse from pure euphoria.
'No, no, that joke just stumps me.' Éomer was still clueless.
'AHAHAHHAHHAHAHHA!' roared the soldiers.
'Guess it's time to turn over a new leaf!' Aragorn was on a roll. 'Come on men, after this I'll buy you a round of root beer!'
Saruman stood in shock, his demonic legions gone forever in the blink of an eye. Gandalf took advantage of this momentary distraction to run around the pile of bodies and snatch up Saruman's staff of office. Gandalf held the ebony wizard staff in both hands, lifted it high over his head…
'NO!' cried Saruman
… and then brought it crashing down hard over his thigh, splitting the staff in two.
'Begon Saruman. You have no power here.'
Utterly defeated, Saruman turned to leave in disgrace. Gandalf watched in silence as the old and dejected figure stumbled up the snowy hill… then he took a few quick steps and kicked the many-coloured Wizard's backside for good measure.
Happy in the way things had turned out, Gandalf wandered down the hill to join Aragorn and the riders… and to give a proper thank you to the Ents and trees for their help. He heard Aragorn and Éomer conversing.
'…now that the war is over we can reinstate our old mahogany system of marriage!'
'Okay, stop.' Éomer couldn't take much more.
'Yeah, I'm pining for these jokes to end too!'
'Please, stop.'
'Well now that we've dealt with the root of the problem-'
'It never ends!!!!'
'- It's time to ride out and welcome the dawn!' and as he spoke, a bright flash of light streamed down through the clouds, spotlighting him like a diva.
'That man,' said Gandalf to himself, 'truly has the makings of a King.'
And thus the battle of Helms Deep came to an end with small loss of men... (well, except for that apple incident… but he survive anyway)… the enemy however paid a heavy price, and the battle would be forever remembered as the second most humiliating defeat ever seen by evil in Middle Earth.
Aragorn, Gandalf, Théoden, Éomer and Legolas rode out to greet the glorious sunrise as it spilled its rays across the field, melting the unnaturally cast snow.
'Well!' chuckled Gandalf quietly to Aragorn, 'it looks like Sauron has underestimated our dear mister Baggins!'
It took a minute for Aragorn to register what Gandalf had said, mistaking it for unimportant babbling, 'What?' he leaned closer so as not to alert the attentions of the two Rohirrim lords, 'you mean to say that it was Frodo in Sauron's body that sent the hail storm? It wasn't simply some happy chance that fell our way? Wait, wait, wait…Frodo's managed to tap into the almighty powers of the greatest evil of our time?! Mr. Baggin's Junior? Fuzzy foot watery eyed Fro-boy!? Surely you jest!'
Expecting little more than a mumbled reply, Aragorn was surprised to actually be given a straight answer. 'Yes, the Dark Lord must have thought it impossible as well or he would not have attempted to use the forbidden arts. Sauron is not so mighty that he is above stupid reasoning. I assume that he was counting on retaining at least most of his powers when he made the switch. Not so. He must be desperate now. We have to march onwards to Mordor's borders and make sure he doesn't cross back to his Dark Tower - most likely with the Ring still in his possession. All our hope rests in the one chance that he hasn't yet done so. Come.' he turned, his eyes upon the giant cloud of smoke dominating the East as Mount Doom fought against the dieing snow and hail spreading out of Barad-dûr. 'We have much to prepare.'
This last bit he said loudly and Théoden, Legolas and Éomer sat up straight in their saddles, ready to face whatever evil tomorrow had in store.
'The battle of Helms Deep is over,' said the Wizard weightily, 'the battle for Middle Earth has jus…'
He was cut off by the sound of kazoo coming from below. As one they all looked down at the bottom of the hill to see three riders hastily approaching and bedecked in marvelous armor, with their banners flaring, and their swords drawn.
'Sweet lord, no!' muttered Aragorn, recognizing the banner instantly.
'Aaaaaaaaaragoooorn! I decided to staaaaaaay! I've come to fiiiiiight! Tangado haid! Leithio i philinn!' cried Arwen Evenstar, holding her sword high in the air. The other two riders flanked her on each side. On closer inspection Aragorn recognized her brothers, Elladan holding the banner and Elrohir blowing insanely on the kazoo.
Aragorn jumped off his horse to catch Arwen as she leapt from hers and the two began to indulge in some unneeded displays of public affection. Sickened, Legolas turned his attention to her brothers.
'Why are you guys here!?'
'Oh well, you know, gotta watch our fer lil' sis!' said Elladin cheerfully, then in an undertone whilst making circular gestures at his temple, 'she's a bit nutty.'
'Chya.' agreed Elrohir.
The other just stared at them stunned, until peering over their shoulders Elladin got a good look at Helms Deep. 'Woah, dude, you had quite a battle here!'
'Chya!' said Elrohir in amazement, 'like, it looks like you fought twenty or thirty guys or somethin'.'
'Oh,' said Gandalf airily, 'More like twenty or thirty THOUSAND!!!!!!!'
'………………. righteous.' they said simultaneously.
***
Meanwhilst…
'No no no! Not the catapults!' cried Wormtongue chasing after a particularly destructive Ent. Things hadn't been going so well on his side of the you-go-to-Helms-Deep-master-and-I'll-hold-down-the-fort-back-here plan. The trees had up and decided to become violent protestors at the most inopportune time and as always, it was the minions who suffered.
'Oh, Saruman's going to kill me! Gone for one day and everything's gone to hell! Hey… Hey! Put down that scaffolding! No. No! NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!'
KT SHY: Done dammit! Whew, for some reason I had some trouble with this chapter… but once I got back into it everything flowed together like a neat little package. I know you guys might be a little… um… cross at me for taking so long but… come on, the end justifies the means right? Right? Sniffle, you aren't gonna sign my review section are you… *choke* …
OH! Another note, feel free to check out my web site! It's not writing, its drawrings but I hope to some day get an illustrated Eye on the Prize up… I think that'd be lovely!
www.flatface.net/~stencil
Unfortunately it's not exactly working as we speak (September 15, 2003) but I'm sure if you're bored in a week or two and want to take a peek at a web page, it'll be up by then!
Thanks so much for reading! I'll be back soon! ^________________^