On they trudged through the rain, the lightning lighting up the sky.
Anarrima and Dimrost had little problems traveling through the mud. The
others, however, sunk deeper and deeper into the mud with each step they
took. As the hours of riding went on she wrapped her cloak around her and
headed down the path.
Night began to fall and the thunderstorm still rolled on. Aragorn decided that it was better to rest for the night and hope that the storm will pass before dawn. So they found a place near a rocky ledge that would keep them dry through the night and made camp. Tents were set up and a small fire in each kept them warm.
While the other men shared their respective tents, Anarrima had her own. Restless, she began to write a letter to Legolas.
Legolas was kept relatively busy with duties from the Palace. Sure he thought about Anarrima a lot, she was his closest and dearest friend and was never far away from his mind but matters of the Palace became first priority.
One day while in his room stringing his bow, a messenger came with a letter. In the back of his mind he thought the worst, that Anarrima was dead, but he knew better than to think like that. When the messenger left Legolas opened the letter to find it was from Anarrima. See
Dear Legolas,
I hope you have been well, mellamin. Already the skills you taught me have been put to use. During the day my mind is occupied with my duties as a Ranger but the nights are lonely. When it rains it seems to always remind me of you. Dimrost misses you too. She nods and neighs at the very mention of your name. I wish to see you again soon, but I know that your duties as Prince keep you busy as well.
Namaarie,
Anarrima
A smile crossed Legolas' face as he read her note. Even miles away she could bring him hope through her simple words. He then folded the note and placed it in the front pocket of his tunic. Looking back out the window he noticed the stars twinkling in the sky, as if they were winking at him. Ana would be just fine.
On 3 days of travel the Dunedain arrived at Osgiliath where hoards of orcs and goblins were battling the men of the city. The walls were being sieged and overrun. In the distance Mt. Doom could be seen spewing out ash and fire.
"Sauron has returned," Anarrima whispered to herself as she took in the sight of the black mountain. "Mordor has awoken."
As they came to the furthest side of the city, the captain of the men upon the wall came running toward the Rangers. Blood was streaming from the gash on his head and his sword was stained black with orc blood. All his arrows were spent and his men were being slaughtered.
"Aragorn, your help is sorely needed. Our defense upon the wall is failing and my men won't last. We need your best archers," the captain said as orc horns rang outside the city. The host was growing larger as reinforcements came from Mordor.
"Theodred, you and Anarrima lead the Rangers to defend the wall. You are my most accurate marksmen and your aim deadly. I will go to Gondor and gather more soldiers. But whatever happens, do not let the enemy through the gates of the city." Aragorn gave his orders and turned and left the city.
Theodred led them to the walls where they took their positions and aided in the defense. The men that were still alive looked weary and near defeat. But their hopes were rekindled when they beheld the sight of the Dunedain. Anarrima was a wonder to them, for it had been long years since one of the Eldar set foot in Osgiliath, but to see a female elf as a Ranger was one thing they thought they would never see. Anarrima pulled on of the city's men aside.
"Get the seriously wounded to the healers immediately. Gather as many healthy men as you can and barricade the entrance."
The man's eyes widened when he noticed her ears; they were pointed! "You... you are an elf?"
"Go now!" She urged and the man ran off.
"Keep them back!" Theodred yelled and Anarrima took aim at the advancing enemy. "Tangado haid! [Hold your positions!] At his word the Rangers fired their arrows, taking down the first wave of orcs.
For hours they fought the army from Mordor, guarding the city at all costs. When all her arrows were spent Anarrima pulled out her daggers and proceeded in killing any orc or goblin that stood in her way. "Theodred, stay on the wall!"
All around her men were dying at the hands of the enemy. The sight was terrible to behold. Everywhere they lay, the result of such raw hatred. Lost in the moment of that realization, Anarrima suddenly felt a sharp pain in her thigh. The poisoned arrow hit her flush; the creature that shot her gave a hideous grin. Ignoring the pain in her leg she took one giant swing with her dagger, the orc's head fell to the ground with a thud.
The pain was nearly unbearable, but she had to fight. The men of Osgiliath, even the people of Middle earth depended on her to. Backing off the wall for a moment, she had to remove the arrow as soon as possible. She placed one of her blades between her teeth. She took a deep breath, counted to three, and pulled the arrow out of her leg. An agonizing scream escaped her, despite having the blade to avoid it. Her jaw clenched and her vision blurred. Tears fell from her closed eyes. Many moments passed before the pain subsided. She took the dagger from her teeth and examined the arrow. It dripped with blood and poison. She snapped it in half and threw it aside.
Anarrima limped back to the wall, it would not stand long as their defenses were nearly spent. Theodred and the other Rangers were overrun with orcs and they were closing in on her as well. "We cannot last any longer," she stated as the enemy began to flood over the wall.
Defeat was near at hand when all through the land horns could be heard. Riding through the city was Aragorn with more than 2,000 Gondorian soldiers.
Night began to fall and the thunderstorm still rolled on. Aragorn decided that it was better to rest for the night and hope that the storm will pass before dawn. So they found a place near a rocky ledge that would keep them dry through the night and made camp. Tents were set up and a small fire in each kept them warm.
While the other men shared their respective tents, Anarrima had her own. Restless, she began to write a letter to Legolas.
Legolas was kept relatively busy with duties from the Palace. Sure he thought about Anarrima a lot, she was his closest and dearest friend and was never far away from his mind but matters of the Palace became first priority.
One day while in his room stringing his bow, a messenger came with a letter. In the back of his mind he thought the worst, that Anarrima was dead, but he knew better than to think like that. When the messenger left Legolas opened the letter to find it was from Anarrima. See
Dear Legolas,
I hope you have been well, mellamin. Already the skills you taught me have been put to use. During the day my mind is occupied with my duties as a Ranger but the nights are lonely. When it rains it seems to always remind me of you. Dimrost misses you too. She nods and neighs at the very mention of your name. I wish to see you again soon, but I know that your duties as Prince keep you busy as well.
Namaarie,
Anarrima
A smile crossed Legolas' face as he read her note. Even miles away she could bring him hope through her simple words. He then folded the note and placed it in the front pocket of his tunic. Looking back out the window he noticed the stars twinkling in the sky, as if they were winking at him. Ana would be just fine.
On 3 days of travel the Dunedain arrived at Osgiliath where hoards of orcs and goblins were battling the men of the city. The walls were being sieged and overrun. In the distance Mt. Doom could be seen spewing out ash and fire.
"Sauron has returned," Anarrima whispered to herself as she took in the sight of the black mountain. "Mordor has awoken."
As they came to the furthest side of the city, the captain of the men upon the wall came running toward the Rangers. Blood was streaming from the gash on his head and his sword was stained black with orc blood. All his arrows were spent and his men were being slaughtered.
"Aragorn, your help is sorely needed. Our defense upon the wall is failing and my men won't last. We need your best archers," the captain said as orc horns rang outside the city. The host was growing larger as reinforcements came from Mordor.
"Theodred, you and Anarrima lead the Rangers to defend the wall. You are my most accurate marksmen and your aim deadly. I will go to Gondor and gather more soldiers. But whatever happens, do not let the enemy through the gates of the city." Aragorn gave his orders and turned and left the city.
Theodred led them to the walls where they took their positions and aided in the defense. The men that were still alive looked weary and near defeat. But their hopes were rekindled when they beheld the sight of the Dunedain. Anarrima was a wonder to them, for it had been long years since one of the Eldar set foot in Osgiliath, but to see a female elf as a Ranger was one thing they thought they would never see. Anarrima pulled on of the city's men aside.
"Get the seriously wounded to the healers immediately. Gather as many healthy men as you can and barricade the entrance."
The man's eyes widened when he noticed her ears; they were pointed! "You... you are an elf?"
"Go now!" She urged and the man ran off.
"Keep them back!" Theodred yelled and Anarrima took aim at the advancing enemy. "Tangado haid! [Hold your positions!] At his word the Rangers fired their arrows, taking down the first wave of orcs.
For hours they fought the army from Mordor, guarding the city at all costs. When all her arrows were spent Anarrima pulled out her daggers and proceeded in killing any orc or goblin that stood in her way. "Theodred, stay on the wall!"
All around her men were dying at the hands of the enemy. The sight was terrible to behold. Everywhere they lay, the result of such raw hatred. Lost in the moment of that realization, Anarrima suddenly felt a sharp pain in her thigh. The poisoned arrow hit her flush; the creature that shot her gave a hideous grin. Ignoring the pain in her leg she took one giant swing with her dagger, the orc's head fell to the ground with a thud.
The pain was nearly unbearable, but she had to fight. The men of Osgiliath, even the people of Middle earth depended on her to. Backing off the wall for a moment, she had to remove the arrow as soon as possible. She placed one of her blades between her teeth. She took a deep breath, counted to three, and pulled the arrow out of her leg. An agonizing scream escaped her, despite having the blade to avoid it. Her jaw clenched and her vision blurred. Tears fell from her closed eyes. Many moments passed before the pain subsided. She took the dagger from her teeth and examined the arrow. It dripped with blood and poison. She snapped it in half and threw it aside.
Anarrima limped back to the wall, it would not stand long as their defenses were nearly spent. Theodred and the other Rangers were overrun with orcs and they were closing in on her as well. "We cannot last any longer," she stated as the enemy began to flood over the wall.
Defeat was near at hand when all through the land horns could be heard. Riding through the city was Aragorn with more than 2,000 Gondorian soldiers.
