A/N: Chapter Three! Yay! But this chapter couldn't be what it is without my
ingenious beta: Anja! Thank you, thank you, thank you! (I know I've thanked
you already, but I just can't enough! The next chapter is going to be great
as well!) Thanks to her for the chapter title! Anyway...we'll concentrate on
this one for now. Hope you enjoy!
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Chapter Three: Beast of a Headache
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The dungeons were cold and dark, only candle light providing an eerie glow and created long shadows. Steel bars boxed me against the exterior wall of the room. The corridor reaked of an unknown scent, most likely something decomposing in the airless room. It was evident that the prisons had not been used for some time. The guards had needed to replenish the candlesticks which had deteriorated to nothing but ash and hard wax. A thick layer of dirt and dust covered everything in sight.
The footsteps of the guards retreated and I was left alone. I gripped the bars and let my head slide forward to rest on the cold metal. What a mess I had got myself into! I closed my eyes and hit my head against the gate a few times. I should have shut up sooner. My plan, of course, had failed. It would have been carried out perfectly in one of my stories, but nothing ever worked like they did in the fiction world.
'I am in the fiction world.'
I sighed. I had truly lost it. After three years I had finally lost my sanity. I believed I was in Middle-earth, for heaven's sake! No wonder I was in jail; it's the closest thing they have to a mental institute.
I turned and surveyed my temporary quarters. They had been kind enough to provide me with a blanket. I could only guess they were silently telling me it would get cold in here at night. I always found it interesting that the guards weren't able to speak or show their faces on duty. I realized it was for the safety of the city, but even the guards at the Tomb of the Unknown in D.C. could speak.
'That's why the United States has been bombed and terrorized where Minas Tirith's walls have never been breached...until now.'
I plopped myself down against the wall with a huff. I silently wondered how long they would leave me in there. Figuring the battle on our doorstep, it was going to be quite a long time. I prepared myself for a long stay.
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Deep rumbling woke me from the sleep I didn't know I fell into. The wall shook violently for a few seconds, then stopped. I slid away and crossed to the other side of my cage. I wished there was a window of some kind so I could see what was going on.
I looked to the candles which still stood tall. I had been out for a few hours it seemed by the looks of them. I just hoped the guards had the heart to change them when they melted completely.
Another tremble racked the building. 'It must be during the early stages of the battle when they are catapulting boulders at each other,' I thought.
The 'quakes' occurred frequently and after awhile I sopped jumping every time one struck and I became quiet bored. How was it I could sit here while everyone is being blown to pieces? I felt like Jack Sparrow when he was caged in the Black Pearl while it was engaged in combat. I sighed in frustration. I was supposed to be fighting!
A loud, unbearably high pitch scream came from directly above me and I instinctively ducked my head and covered my ears. It was like nothing I'd heard. The reenactment in the movie was nothing compared to it. The sound was worse than fingernails dragged down a chalkboard. I felt like my head was going to explode from invisible pressure.
The sound passed, but I stayed in my position, recovering from my trauma and preparing for another Nazgul and fell beast to fly over and put me through the same torment. And they did; swooping low and torturing their enemy...and me.
A loud crash and a rumbling greater than any other shattered me from my insanity and jolted me back to reality. I managed to lift my head enough to see a boulder crash through the ceiling, sending most of the slab above me to cave in. I ducked quickly and covered my head until the debris stopped falling. Looking up, I saw a fell beast fly silently overhead—away to find new prey.
For some reason it occurred to me that Denethor was most likely burning Faramir right now. I silently prayed he would still be saved and brushed some dust from me I had to get out of here.
This seemed nearly impossible now. My cage remained: the outermost wall still standing and the gates still mostly unharmed besides a few bars at the top—bent, from the ceiling crashing down. The roof, however, was a different story completely. The boulder had crashed diagonally into the room, leaving a gaping hole, but the impact at the loss of support caused a larger chunk of the structure to crumble.
Looking around the room, it seemed I would be trapped there forever. Large stones the size of car wheels and televisions were piled between the door and me. No one would take the effort to find me.
So I did the only thing I could think of doing: I climbed the door of my cell which had the only horizontal bars I could climb. If anything, I thought, I could jump down to the other side.
As I climbed, I noticed the silver gleam of armor mixed with the rubble. Posts must have been located above me. I felt sorrowful for the loss, but felt unsure now cope. I was relieved at least not to see the body or any parts.
As I climbed, more of the battle reached my ears. I could hear the shouting of men, the clanging of swords, clamoring of armor, and twanging bows. Within seconds I was standing, balanced on one of the top bars. Behind me, I could see the outermost wall of the level some fifty feet away and a few stories down. There was nothing near to jump to but the outer wall of the prison. If I were to jump, I might be able to make it over the wall of the prison five yards behind me but it was a dangerous fall from there. I decided I could climb down or walk along the wall to find a safe route down.
I took a deep breath. If I wanted to get out, it was the only option. I turned around so the heals of my shoes were all that was holding me on the bar. I closed my eyes and said a silent prayer. The probability of me making the jump...I shook off the thought, not wanting to even think about math. I opened my eyes and jumped before I could change my mind.
Not a split second later, while floating between walls, I realized how stupid the decision was. I wasn't going to make, nor come close. I smacked into the wall, my stomach connecting with the top of the wall. The wind was instantly knocked out of me and I started to slip down the wall, but I instinctively gripped the wall. My abdomen hurt more than the worst stomach ache, but knowing I wouldn't be able to hold myself there much longer, I attempted to pull myself up.
After several unsuccessful attempt, I resorted to swinging my legs over. I somehow managed to get one over and sat, straddling the wall. I scolded myself for thinking I could make the jump and now a bruise the size of Texas on my stomach showed my stupidity. I knew I would be very uncomfortable for the next few days.
I took that chance to look at myself. My khaki's which I had worn to bed the night I met Faramir were covered in dirt and holes were forming at the knees. My new hoodie was ruined. I had scraped the logo off the front from my jump. The cuffs were ripped and I was sure the back was suffering from my fall down the stairs. I could feel the tie holding my hair back sliding out and wisps of hair were in my face. But hey, why worry? I was in the middle of a medieval war. I probably looked fairly good considering the consequences.
I laughed slightly at the though. Yeah right.
I was shaken to reality as a Nazgul flew down from above. My eyes met those of the fell beast and I froze, knowing he was heading toward me. I quickly clamored to get my leg so I could slide down. I looked to my right and then to my left, furiously looking for some escape. The wall stretched on forever and no matter how fast I could run on it—which wouldn't be fast at all least I fall off the side—the Nazgul would catch me.
I had just managed to get halfway standing when the fell beast screamed. The familiar sound sent my head spinning and I clutched my ears. I had no choice and with the scream pounding my senses, I knew the only option was down. I slipped from my perch and fell right when the Black Rider swept over, clawing at me. The scream silenced and he swept off to find another to prey on.
But I was not aware. All I knew was I was falling...
Falling...
Falling...
I must have closed my eyes when the fell beast screamed because as I was thinking of squeezing my eyes shut, I realized they already were.
Bam! My feet hit the ground and I crumpled forward, landing on my hands and my face hitting the cement. I groaned, pain now shooting up my legs, adding to the pain of my stomach, head, and hands. My face felt hot and I could feel warm liquid seeping from my hands. A few more hours of this and I was going to be dead.
I don't know how long I laid there, but it was long enough that I decided the throbbing would never go away. How was it that I got stuck here and not somewhere lick Mirkwood where Legolas would sweep me off my feet and have me fall in love with him?
"Why can't I be a Mary-Sue?" I groaned aloud, rolling over onto my back and opening my eyes.
The wall, that dreadful wall. I wished I could break it—give it as much pain as it had bestowed upon me. My eyes followed it up and my breathing hitched as they landed on the top of the wall. I had fallen at least three stories. The wall had not only been higher than I expected, but it was the outermost wall of the level meaning I was on the battlefield.
I sat up and threw a rock at the wall, hoping it would crumble. My head began to clear and the sounds of battle reached me. I groaned, knowing the men and orcs would return in a matter of minutes after being frightened away by the Nazgul. Struggling to my feet, I avoided using the cursed wall for support even though it would have been very helpful. I hissed in pain as I got on my feet. Both me legs were in great pain. I guessed my left ankle was twisted and my left leg was broken somewhere.
I hobbled over and picked up an abandoned sword to use as a lame support. I was most likely going to end up breaking the tip, but I really didn't care.
I stopped and stood there. Now what? It wasn't like I could fight in the shape I was in. I massaged the bridge of my nose with my free hand, trying to clear the intensive pain I was in so I could think. Why was I here?
No idea.
Faramir! Of course. If he hadn't practically fallen on top of me I would be enjoying a Saturday—pain free!
I sighed, knowing the only thing for me to do was go to the citadel and make sure Denethor wasn't burning his son alive. Plus, I wanted to be there when Gandalf knocked him around a bit with that staff of his. I smiled. That would be the highlight of my day.
I started up the slop slowly using my left loot and the sword for support. My jaw started to cramp from me clenching it against the pain, adding to my headache. I skirted along the outside of battles, trying to avoid being seen by anyone. I was lucky to be high enough in Minas Tirith that orcs were scarce, only those who had managed to climb walls, like the one I fell from, present. The problem was the gates were kept locked and only the soldiers were allowed through. I managed to find a discarded helmet and sneak in with a group of soldiers, but the higher I went the fewer soldiers were posted. By the last gate, no soldiers were seen...anywhere...and my ankle was burning in unbelievable pain.
I was limping at the speed of a sloth, looking for a path which could somehow get me up to the citadel when a shadow covered me. Even though it was past dusk I knew what it was. I was in a horrible mood from having to go through so much work just to get up two levels. I had cast the helmet aside a few minutes ago with the fading light and the lack of need of the piece of metal.
The Nazgul landed in front of me, opening its wings and screaming at me. I didn't flinch. I had such a bad headache that its maturing-boy-cracking voice didn't both me anymore.
"Bug off, can't you see I'm having a hard enough time as it is?" I yelled, as if I was talking to my father. I opened my arms to show him I was defenseless when I remembered it was a sword I was crouching on
"Feast on its flesh," the Nazgul said in a creepy hiss that sent a shutter down my spine.
"It? Who you calling it? And don't even think about calling me a man!" I glared at him. "You know, you picked the wrong day to mess with me. I am tired, sore, in a great deal of pain, and have a headache the size of this continent. I've put up with you all day—all your screaming and whining—and I've had it up to here with you!" I emphasized, shaking my hand furiously about my chin. "Now you say, 'feast on my flesh?'"
I was starting to get a feel of what my mother had gone through the few years she had lived with us. Thinking about it, I realized I sounded just like her on the days when she lost it with my father.
I snapped back to my task at hand when the fell beast took a step toward me, opening its mouth to expose its jaws. I cringed at it's foul breath.
"Perhaps you've met Eowyn, the woman who killed your king? Well, guess what? I am no man either!"
The fell beast lunged and tried to bite off my head, but I took the advantage to shove my sword into its mouth. It froze and gargled. I withdrew it and watched the creature collapse, moaning in misery.
My eyes were taken from the dying creature when its rider appeared before me, a blade shining in his hand. He was harder to make out than his stead was against the darkening sky. The occasional torched bale of hay thrown toward the city helped light up our battle scene and the glowing moon created an eerie glow on the white stone around us.
"I told you to leave me alone!" I yelled, my temper growing.
The Nazgul continued to slowly step toward me. He brought his sword up and arched it toward me. I barely managed to lean back out of its path. When he brought it toward me a second time, I was forced to block with my sword. The weapon was heavy and foreign in my hands and I was forced to rely on my strength and what I had seen in movies which proved to not be nearly enough. On the third arc, the sword sliced through my sweatshirt, creating a long gash across my chest, but missing my flesh. However, I had leaned back too far to avoid the blade and I fell onto my back. I scrambled to get away and back on my feet, knowing I couldn't touch my enemy. He stood, towering over me and placed his sword tip to my throat. I gulped. I was in major trouble now.
'This is the end...I'm going to die...oh god!'
"Die!" he hissed as he drew his sword back a few inches to strike. Somehow I straightened my mind and was able to lift my right arm and with all my might, strike his sword to the side. This action startled him and the sword was knocked from his grip. I pointed my sword at him, but wasted no time.
"You're worse than my father," I spat, rolling my eyes and thrusting the sword through his heart. It was his turn to scream and I instantly dropped the sword when dry ice seemed to travel up it and shoot into my arm. He glowed for a minute, a light which seemed to not come from the moon or the fireballs, but from inside him. But as soon as it appeared, it as gone and his garb went lax and fell to the ground, turning to ash and scattering in the wind.
"Middle-earth needs to learn how to treat a woman," I said before my vision started to fade and I blacked out after silently apologizing to Faramir.
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A loud horn woke me in the early hours in the morning. I opened them only to squint and turn away from the bright light. I held my hand up to shade my eyes from the bright dawn and immediately noticed the fell beast. Dark, black blood pooled from its mouth, staining the white stone.
I attempted to move, but found I couldn't. Every single muscle I moved screamed in pain at being disturbed, save my left arm. I found myself wishing I was ambidextrous.
Shouting from far below me startled me and I fought harder to stand, curiosity eating at me. There must have been hundreds of voices yelling. The horn that awoke me blew again and others followed, holding long, beautiful notes that seemed to call me.
Giving up on standing, I crawled using my two left limbs to move me along and finally reached the wall, pulling myself up as a sound like thunder shook the entire city and the shouting joined it.
"What in Middle-earth is going on?" I mumbled as I groped at the wall, pulling myself up.
My jaw fell to the floor. Thousands of horsemen were charging across the plain, spears thrust toward the gigantic orc army. It reminded me of a typhoon, sweeping across the ocean, heading to cover an island.
"Death!" they screamed as they galloped faster toward the enemy. Even from the height I was at, I knew the orcs were scared and their line was pushing back into itself.
Arrows from the orcs flew across the field, bringing a few Rohirrim down, but making no significant damage to the army.
They impacted each other, head to head, and the horsemen slowed, but didn't stop, riding over the orcs, killing all in their path. I sat, carefully on the wall, knowing I was going to want to watch the next event that would take place on the field. I suddenly remembered that Eowyn would slay the Witch-king soon. My face paled. I hoped that I hadn't killed him already.
'Don't kid yourself," I thought to myself. 'The Witch-king would have been far more difficult to beat than that. Plus, he had a mace in the book. That Nazgul only had a sword.'
It hadn't really dawned on me that I had killed a Black Rider. It just didn't seem possible. The 'immortal' kings-of-old killed countless numbers of good men and one had stood in my and I had treated it like my father—but taken extra extensive defensive action of course. I actually still really didn't believe I was in Middle-earth. I just had been so busy running from someone—or something—or trying to get somewhere that it really didn't seem true. I did know one thing for sure—this was too painful to be a dream.
I sat there, internally debating whether I wished I could be down on Palennor Fields fighting. The Rohirrim were clearly wiping the orc population out and it was beginning to look as though nothing could stop them when the wraiths turned and headed to the field. I watched as they ripped them from their horses, but sadly discovered the field was too far below for me to witness Eowyn's final battle.
I looked out into the distance and could see the Mumak approaching. The ships, which would now be empty or perhaps carrying Legolas, Aragorn, and Gimli, were also making their way down the river, and bringing with them the Army of the Dead. I wondered how the ghosts would look in real life and how they would fight. Would they be a plague like they had in the movie? Or perhaps like the Rohirrim: undefeatable?
Continuing to watch the battles below, I had become almost in a dazed-like state. Suddenly, two arms seized me from behind and I screamed in pain of the delicate wound on my stomach and arm. I was dragged off the wall and a heavy object dropped on my head.
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A/N: Wow, that was an exciting chapter to write and to read! Please review and let me know what you think. Thanks to:
ANJA! Stardust-creations: Thanks! Arien_Kaleniel: Yes, but twice is always better than not at all! Let me know what confused you and I'll try to clear some things up for you. I hope you didn't have to wait too long for this update. They shouldn't be this far apart, I was on spring break. Chapter four is already in the making! Sweet A.K: I like Faramir, too, and no one ever seems to write about him so I had to! I'm glad you liked that part because I wasn't sure how that turned out. You'll have to wait and see about the romance :) That's a secret for now! Haha!
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Chapter Three: Beast of a Headache
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The dungeons were cold and dark, only candle light providing an eerie glow and created long shadows. Steel bars boxed me against the exterior wall of the room. The corridor reaked of an unknown scent, most likely something decomposing in the airless room. It was evident that the prisons had not been used for some time. The guards had needed to replenish the candlesticks which had deteriorated to nothing but ash and hard wax. A thick layer of dirt and dust covered everything in sight.
The footsteps of the guards retreated and I was left alone. I gripped the bars and let my head slide forward to rest on the cold metal. What a mess I had got myself into! I closed my eyes and hit my head against the gate a few times. I should have shut up sooner. My plan, of course, had failed. It would have been carried out perfectly in one of my stories, but nothing ever worked like they did in the fiction world.
'I am in the fiction world.'
I sighed. I had truly lost it. After three years I had finally lost my sanity. I believed I was in Middle-earth, for heaven's sake! No wonder I was in jail; it's the closest thing they have to a mental institute.
I turned and surveyed my temporary quarters. They had been kind enough to provide me with a blanket. I could only guess they were silently telling me it would get cold in here at night. I always found it interesting that the guards weren't able to speak or show their faces on duty. I realized it was for the safety of the city, but even the guards at the Tomb of the Unknown in D.C. could speak.
'That's why the United States has been bombed and terrorized where Minas Tirith's walls have never been breached...until now.'
I plopped myself down against the wall with a huff. I silently wondered how long they would leave me in there. Figuring the battle on our doorstep, it was going to be quite a long time. I prepared myself for a long stay.
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Deep rumbling woke me from the sleep I didn't know I fell into. The wall shook violently for a few seconds, then stopped. I slid away and crossed to the other side of my cage. I wished there was a window of some kind so I could see what was going on.
I looked to the candles which still stood tall. I had been out for a few hours it seemed by the looks of them. I just hoped the guards had the heart to change them when they melted completely.
Another tremble racked the building. 'It must be during the early stages of the battle when they are catapulting boulders at each other,' I thought.
The 'quakes' occurred frequently and after awhile I sopped jumping every time one struck and I became quiet bored. How was it I could sit here while everyone is being blown to pieces? I felt like Jack Sparrow when he was caged in the Black Pearl while it was engaged in combat. I sighed in frustration. I was supposed to be fighting!
A loud, unbearably high pitch scream came from directly above me and I instinctively ducked my head and covered my ears. It was like nothing I'd heard. The reenactment in the movie was nothing compared to it. The sound was worse than fingernails dragged down a chalkboard. I felt like my head was going to explode from invisible pressure.
The sound passed, but I stayed in my position, recovering from my trauma and preparing for another Nazgul and fell beast to fly over and put me through the same torment. And they did; swooping low and torturing their enemy...and me.
A loud crash and a rumbling greater than any other shattered me from my insanity and jolted me back to reality. I managed to lift my head enough to see a boulder crash through the ceiling, sending most of the slab above me to cave in. I ducked quickly and covered my head until the debris stopped falling. Looking up, I saw a fell beast fly silently overhead—away to find new prey.
For some reason it occurred to me that Denethor was most likely burning Faramir right now. I silently prayed he would still be saved and brushed some dust from me I had to get out of here.
This seemed nearly impossible now. My cage remained: the outermost wall still standing and the gates still mostly unharmed besides a few bars at the top—bent, from the ceiling crashing down. The roof, however, was a different story completely. The boulder had crashed diagonally into the room, leaving a gaping hole, but the impact at the loss of support caused a larger chunk of the structure to crumble.
Looking around the room, it seemed I would be trapped there forever. Large stones the size of car wheels and televisions were piled between the door and me. No one would take the effort to find me.
So I did the only thing I could think of doing: I climbed the door of my cell which had the only horizontal bars I could climb. If anything, I thought, I could jump down to the other side.
As I climbed, I noticed the silver gleam of armor mixed with the rubble. Posts must have been located above me. I felt sorrowful for the loss, but felt unsure now cope. I was relieved at least not to see the body or any parts.
As I climbed, more of the battle reached my ears. I could hear the shouting of men, the clanging of swords, clamoring of armor, and twanging bows. Within seconds I was standing, balanced on one of the top bars. Behind me, I could see the outermost wall of the level some fifty feet away and a few stories down. There was nothing near to jump to but the outer wall of the prison. If I were to jump, I might be able to make it over the wall of the prison five yards behind me but it was a dangerous fall from there. I decided I could climb down or walk along the wall to find a safe route down.
I took a deep breath. If I wanted to get out, it was the only option. I turned around so the heals of my shoes were all that was holding me on the bar. I closed my eyes and said a silent prayer. The probability of me making the jump...I shook off the thought, not wanting to even think about math. I opened my eyes and jumped before I could change my mind.
Not a split second later, while floating between walls, I realized how stupid the decision was. I wasn't going to make, nor come close. I smacked into the wall, my stomach connecting with the top of the wall. The wind was instantly knocked out of me and I started to slip down the wall, but I instinctively gripped the wall. My abdomen hurt more than the worst stomach ache, but knowing I wouldn't be able to hold myself there much longer, I attempted to pull myself up.
After several unsuccessful attempt, I resorted to swinging my legs over. I somehow managed to get one over and sat, straddling the wall. I scolded myself for thinking I could make the jump and now a bruise the size of Texas on my stomach showed my stupidity. I knew I would be very uncomfortable for the next few days.
I took that chance to look at myself. My khaki's which I had worn to bed the night I met Faramir were covered in dirt and holes were forming at the knees. My new hoodie was ruined. I had scraped the logo off the front from my jump. The cuffs were ripped and I was sure the back was suffering from my fall down the stairs. I could feel the tie holding my hair back sliding out and wisps of hair were in my face. But hey, why worry? I was in the middle of a medieval war. I probably looked fairly good considering the consequences.
I laughed slightly at the though. Yeah right.
I was shaken to reality as a Nazgul flew down from above. My eyes met those of the fell beast and I froze, knowing he was heading toward me. I quickly clamored to get my leg so I could slide down. I looked to my right and then to my left, furiously looking for some escape. The wall stretched on forever and no matter how fast I could run on it—which wouldn't be fast at all least I fall off the side—the Nazgul would catch me.
I had just managed to get halfway standing when the fell beast screamed. The familiar sound sent my head spinning and I clutched my ears. I had no choice and with the scream pounding my senses, I knew the only option was down. I slipped from my perch and fell right when the Black Rider swept over, clawing at me. The scream silenced and he swept off to find another to prey on.
But I was not aware. All I knew was I was falling...
Falling...
Falling...
I must have closed my eyes when the fell beast screamed because as I was thinking of squeezing my eyes shut, I realized they already were.
Bam! My feet hit the ground and I crumpled forward, landing on my hands and my face hitting the cement. I groaned, pain now shooting up my legs, adding to the pain of my stomach, head, and hands. My face felt hot and I could feel warm liquid seeping from my hands. A few more hours of this and I was going to be dead.
I don't know how long I laid there, but it was long enough that I decided the throbbing would never go away. How was it that I got stuck here and not somewhere lick Mirkwood where Legolas would sweep me off my feet and have me fall in love with him?
"Why can't I be a Mary-Sue?" I groaned aloud, rolling over onto my back and opening my eyes.
The wall, that dreadful wall. I wished I could break it—give it as much pain as it had bestowed upon me. My eyes followed it up and my breathing hitched as they landed on the top of the wall. I had fallen at least three stories. The wall had not only been higher than I expected, but it was the outermost wall of the level meaning I was on the battlefield.
I sat up and threw a rock at the wall, hoping it would crumble. My head began to clear and the sounds of battle reached me. I groaned, knowing the men and orcs would return in a matter of minutes after being frightened away by the Nazgul. Struggling to my feet, I avoided using the cursed wall for support even though it would have been very helpful. I hissed in pain as I got on my feet. Both me legs were in great pain. I guessed my left ankle was twisted and my left leg was broken somewhere.
I hobbled over and picked up an abandoned sword to use as a lame support. I was most likely going to end up breaking the tip, but I really didn't care.
I stopped and stood there. Now what? It wasn't like I could fight in the shape I was in. I massaged the bridge of my nose with my free hand, trying to clear the intensive pain I was in so I could think. Why was I here?
No idea.
Faramir! Of course. If he hadn't practically fallen on top of me I would be enjoying a Saturday—pain free!
I sighed, knowing the only thing for me to do was go to the citadel and make sure Denethor wasn't burning his son alive. Plus, I wanted to be there when Gandalf knocked him around a bit with that staff of his. I smiled. That would be the highlight of my day.
I started up the slop slowly using my left loot and the sword for support. My jaw started to cramp from me clenching it against the pain, adding to my headache. I skirted along the outside of battles, trying to avoid being seen by anyone. I was lucky to be high enough in Minas Tirith that orcs were scarce, only those who had managed to climb walls, like the one I fell from, present. The problem was the gates were kept locked and only the soldiers were allowed through. I managed to find a discarded helmet and sneak in with a group of soldiers, but the higher I went the fewer soldiers were posted. By the last gate, no soldiers were seen...anywhere...and my ankle was burning in unbelievable pain.
I was limping at the speed of a sloth, looking for a path which could somehow get me up to the citadel when a shadow covered me. Even though it was past dusk I knew what it was. I was in a horrible mood from having to go through so much work just to get up two levels. I had cast the helmet aside a few minutes ago with the fading light and the lack of need of the piece of metal.
The Nazgul landed in front of me, opening its wings and screaming at me. I didn't flinch. I had such a bad headache that its maturing-boy-cracking voice didn't both me anymore.
"Bug off, can't you see I'm having a hard enough time as it is?" I yelled, as if I was talking to my father. I opened my arms to show him I was defenseless when I remembered it was a sword I was crouching on
"Feast on its flesh," the Nazgul said in a creepy hiss that sent a shutter down my spine.
"It? Who you calling it? And don't even think about calling me a man!" I glared at him. "You know, you picked the wrong day to mess with me. I am tired, sore, in a great deal of pain, and have a headache the size of this continent. I've put up with you all day—all your screaming and whining—and I've had it up to here with you!" I emphasized, shaking my hand furiously about my chin. "Now you say, 'feast on my flesh?'"
I was starting to get a feel of what my mother had gone through the few years she had lived with us. Thinking about it, I realized I sounded just like her on the days when she lost it with my father.
I snapped back to my task at hand when the fell beast took a step toward me, opening its mouth to expose its jaws. I cringed at it's foul breath.
"Perhaps you've met Eowyn, the woman who killed your king? Well, guess what? I am no man either!"
The fell beast lunged and tried to bite off my head, but I took the advantage to shove my sword into its mouth. It froze and gargled. I withdrew it and watched the creature collapse, moaning in misery.
My eyes were taken from the dying creature when its rider appeared before me, a blade shining in his hand. He was harder to make out than his stead was against the darkening sky. The occasional torched bale of hay thrown toward the city helped light up our battle scene and the glowing moon created an eerie glow on the white stone around us.
"I told you to leave me alone!" I yelled, my temper growing.
The Nazgul continued to slowly step toward me. He brought his sword up and arched it toward me. I barely managed to lean back out of its path. When he brought it toward me a second time, I was forced to block with my sword. The weapon was heavy and foreign in my hands and I was forced to rely on my strength and what I had seen in movies which proved to not be nearly enough. On the third arc, the sword sliced through my sweatshirt, creating a long gash across my chest, but missing my flesh. However, I had leaned back too far to avoid the blade and I fell onto my back. I scrambled to get away and back on my feet, knowing I couldn't touch my enemy. He stood, towering over me and placed his sword tip to my throat. I gulped. I was in major trouble now.
'This is the end...I'm going to die...oh god!'
"Die!" he hissed as he drew his sword back a few inches to strike. Somehow I straightened my mind and was able to lift my right arm and with all my might, strike his sword to the side. This action startled him and the sword was knocked from his grip. I pointed my sword at him, but wasted no time.
"You're worse than my father," I spat, rolling my eyes and thrusting the sword through his heart. It was his turn to scream and I instantly dropped the sword when dry ice seemed to travel up it and shoot into my arm. He glowed for a minute, a light which seemed to not come from the moon or the fireballs, but from inside him. But as soon as it appeared, it as gone and his garb went lax and fell to the ground, turning to ash and scattering in the wind.
"Middle-earth needs to learn how to treat a woman," I said before my vision started to fade and I blacked out after silently apologizing to Faramir.
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A loud horn woke me in the early hours in the morning. I opened them only to squint and turn away from the bright light. I held my hand up to shade my eyes from the bright dawn and immediately noticed the fell beast. Dark, black blood pooled from its mouth, staining the white stone.
I attempted to move, but found I couldn't. Every single muscle I moved screamed in pain at being disturbed, save my left arm. I found myself wishing I was ambidextrous.
Shouting from far below me startled me and I fought harder to stand, curiosity eating at me. There must have been hundreds of voices yelling. The horn that awoke me blew again and others followed, holding long, beautiful notes that seemed to call me.
Giving up on standing, I crawled using my two left limbs to move me along and finally reached the wall, pulling myself up as a sound like thunder shook the entire city and the shouting joined it.
"What in Middle-earth is going on?" I mumbled as I groped at the wall, pulling myself up.
My jaw fell to the floor. Thousands of horsemen were charging across the plain, spears thrust toward the gigantic orc army. It reminded me of a typhoon, sweeping across the ocean, heading to cover an island.
"Death!" they screamed as they galloped faster toward the enemy. Even from the height I was at, I knew the orcs were scared and their line was pushing back into itself.
Arrows from the orcs flew across the field, bringing a few Rohirrim down, but making no significant damage to the army.
They impacted each other, head to head, and the horsemen slowed, but didn't stop, riding over the orcs, killing all in their path. I sat, carefully on the wall, knowing I was going to want to watch the next event that would take place on the field. I suddenly remembered that Eowyn would slay the Witch-king soon. My face paled. I hoped that I hadn't killed him already.
'Don't kid yourself," I thought to myself. 'The Witch-king would have been far more difficult to beat than that. Plus, he had a mace in the book. That Nazgul only had a sword.'
It hadn't really dawned on me that I had killed a Black Rider. It just didn't seem possible. The 'immortal' kings-of-old killed countless numbers of good men and one had stood in my and I had treated it like my father—but taken extra extensive defensive action of course. I actually still really didn't believe I was in Middle-earth. I just had been so busy running from someone—or something—or trying to get somewhere that it really didn't seem true. I did know one thing for sure—this was too painful to be a dream.
I sat there, internally debating whether I wished I could be down on Palennor Fields fighting. The Rohirrim were clearly wiping the orc population out and it was beginning to look as though nothing could stop them when the wraiths turned and headed to the field. I watched as they ripped them from their horses, but sadly discovered the field was too far below for me to witness Eowyn's final battle.
I looked out into the distance and could see the Mumak approaching. The ships, which would now be empty or perhaps carrying Legolas, Aragorn, and Gimli, were also making their way down the river, and bringing with them the Army of the Dead. I wondered how the ghosts would look in real life and how they would fight. Would they be a plague like they had in the movie? Or perhaps like the Rohirrim: undefeatable?
Continuing to watch the battles below, I had become almost in a dazed-like state. Suddenly, two arms seized me from behind and I screamed in pain of the delicate wound on my stomach and arm. I was dragged off the wall and a heavy object dropped on my head.
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A/N: Wow, that was an exciting chapter to write and to read! Please review and let me know what you think. Thanks to:
ANJA! Stardust-creations: Thanks! Arien_Kaleniel: Yes, but twice is always better than not at all! Let me know what confused you and I'll try to clear some things up for you. I hope you didn't have to wait too long for this update. They shouldn't be this far apart, I was on spring break. Chapter four is already in the making! Sweet A.K: I like Faramir, too, and no one ever seems to write about him so I had to! I'm glad you liked that part because I wasn't sure how that turned out. You'll have to wait and see about the romance :) That's a secret for now! Haha!