"Guruthos nallo, leithian i huatho auth!"
(Translation) Cry havoc, and let slip the dogs of war
A/N: The English translation of the above quote is by Shakespeare and was written for the play, Julius Caesar: III-1
My apologies to William Shakespeare as well as Professor Tolkien if I have butchered the translation too badly.
"Govadath i coth!"
Meet the enemy!
Rabbits in this instance, means two beings used to lure a predator.
Chapter 40
Under Siege
Every warrior sent private thanks to the Valar, not only for the successful mission of the two courageous rabbits but because things seemed to be proceeding more according to the intentions of the battle's planners.
When Elias reached the staging area of Arena One, he slid to a stop on his hocks, his forefeet coming slightly off the ground in an effort to go from a dead run to a complete stop in a very small area. Legolas was immediately at the stallion's head, steadying the horse as Anayah dismounted. Slapping Elias lightly on his hindquarters, she told her friend to go hide in the trees and with a snort, the big stallion complied. Then Legolas handed Huan to her as well as three quivers of arrows after which the two ran to the trees they would be shooting from and climbed quickly to the flets that had been constructed for the archers some days before.
She hung two quivers of arrows on nearby branches where they would be within reach when needed and the third quiver was slung onto her back. Anayah was skilled enough that drawing arrows with speed and accuracy from either a quiver hanging from her back or one laying at her feet posed no problem. However, since she was in a tree, she placed the third quiver on her back as she did not want to lose it by accident in the middle of the battle. Looking over to the next tree she caught Legolas's attention and gave the Mirkwood archer the thumbs up signal indicating her readiness. He smiled back at her encouragingly having somehow sensed that she was nervous. Taking a deep breath then letting it out slowly, she tried to relax as everyone waited for the wraiths to appear.
As the Lord of the defending Elven realm, Lord Elrond would be this campaign's Commander and it was his responsibility to oversee all aspects of the battle which included the deployment of the warriors. Though it had been nearly 3,000 years since he had last had the responsibility for so many warriors, he had fallen into his duty with all the knowledge, grace and dignity of the many millennia he had lived in Middle Earth.
He looked over the field one last time and nodded his head, satisfied that all was well. Though he could not see the warriors farther down the field who would remain hidden until the Orcs arrived, his elvish senses told him that they were in position and ready. The elves and men in both arenas were seasoned warriors, yet Elrond knew they were all still nervous. The Noldor Lord smiled. He believed that nervousness in battle was a good thing because it meant they were all in a heightened state of alertness, a heightened state of alertness sometimes being one of the most powerful means of defense.
Though every warrior knew they were outnumbered, especially since Lord Erkenbrand of Westfold had yet to arrive, each heart on the battlefield knew their cause was righteous and once the conflict began, Elrond was sure the warriors would fight to whatever end may come.
The line was being drawn here, in this field, and here every warrior, elf as well as human, would make their stand, without reservations, because every one of them knew that if Imladris fell to the Dark Lord's devices, there would be nothing to stand in the way of future attacks on Mirkwood and Lórien. May Ilúvatar keep watch over them all.
Sensing his friend's unrest, Glorfindel laid his hand on Elrond's shoulder.
"This is a good army, my friend. These are good men, good elves, good warriors. They will do well, for they fight for their families and friends as well as their homes. There could be no more powerful motivation than that."
Elrond looked at the Gondolin elf. The two had been friends for many years and it was only to the Balrog slayer that he would ever admit his misgivings and uncertainties.
"Many brave warriors will die today, Glorfindel, Firstborn as well as Secondborn. If this day sees us victorious, it will have been a victory bought and paid for with the blood of many noble beings. I know now is not the time to ponder the intricacies of good and evil, but these thoughts sadden me nevertheless. Many of our friends will not dine with us this night, nor will they return to their homes where their loved ones anxiously await their return."
"I know, Elrond. These things sadden me also. But we must remind ourselves that the pain of their loss will be lessened, knowing that whether the warriors sleep this night in the arms of Mandos or if their travels take them beyond the circles of this world, the warriors who leave us will forever be remembered and honored for their courage."
Elrond nodded his head in agreement as he continued to look over the battlefield.
Ten archers had been placed on flets high in the trees along the eastern perimeter of the field. All ten knew their assignments and duties and waited the commands of their leader.
On the west side of the field, an additional ten archers stood on flets in the trees, also waiting Elrond's commands. Among these ten were Legolas of Mirkwood and Anayah of Imladris. They, along with their fellow archers, waited for the wraiths to appear knowing that when they did, their jobs would begin.
Lord Celeborn looked at his Lórien Captain, wondering how the elf was dealing with the idea of fighting in the same battle as the young she-elf he had helped raise and who he thought of almost as a daughter. His curiosity was put to rest when he saw the businesslike expression on the elf's face. Haldir was a seasoned warrior and knew how to tend to the business at hand and although he would worry about Anayah, once the battle began in earnest, all his thoughts, energy and considerable skills, would be focused solely on the destruction of Orcs and Wraiths.
Sensing the nervousness of the young man he had chosen to be his second-in-command for this battle, Eomer smiled and put a steadying hand on the man's shoulder.
"Did you ever think, Léoden, on the day we began our travels to seek the aid of the elves, that we would end up in such a grand battle?"
"No, my lord, I did not. But I do believe this is a worthy cause and one in which the outcome will affect us all. If we do not make a stand here, then we may just as well find some hole to crawl into for I do not believe we would then be worthy or capable of a final defense when Sauron comes to full power."
"Truly, my friend, truly."
Halbarad stole a sideways glance at his Chief. Among the Rangers, Halbarad was one of the few who fully knew and understood the young man's future destiny and though he knew Aragorn was a fierce and capable warrior, he still worried that something would happen and he would fall. It would be up to him, Aragorn's second-in-command, to see to it that did not occur.
Aragorn was more than just the Chieftain of the Dúnadain. He was a good friend and a good man and though he was a bit reckless, in Halbarad's opinion, the older man knew he could not want for a better warrior to stand at his side.
After speaking briefly to the elf warrior who would be fighting at his side, the Mirkwood King had fallen silent, deep in his own thoughts. He did not like the idea of his only son taking part in this battle, telling himself that having both King and Crown Prince of a realm on the same field was a reckless act that courted disaster although he also knew full-well that Legolas would have it no other way. His second family needed him. Aragorn, his best friend and brother, was fighting in this battle and there was no other place the prince would rather be than fighting at the adan's side.
Thranduil thought back to when the two had first met and remembered how he had disapproved of their relationship. But through the years, as he had seen the true bond of friendship and brotherhood that had developed between the two, he had mellowed. In time, he had even developed a respect for the future King of Men. His worry now, was that if Aragorn fell in this battle and departed to wherever mortals went when they died, that his beloved son would follow.
Gandalf and Radagast chatted amiably. Neither of the wizards, gray nor brown, feared death, both being not only Istari but Maiar as well. Though it had been said of Radagast that he had fallen to the dark devices of Sauron, Gandalf knew otherwise. No, Gandalf thought to himself, the brown wizard had not fallen, rather, he had dedicated himself to the defense and nurturing of the silent ones, the creatures of Middle Earth.
These allies, these creatures, would come to the battle at the request of Radagast. They would come in flocks, in herds, singly, in pairs and in masses and they would fight as long, as hard and as loyally as any of the two-legged warriors. Though their concept of death as well as their motivations for joining this conflict were not the same as those of the two-legged beings, and they knew that death could very well await them, they would still do what they could to hinder and stay the evil they would meet on the field this day.
Though Gandalf carried the third ring of power, Narya, which held the power to inspire the hearts of men, he knew that there was inspiration enough in the hearts that beat on the battlefield on this day. He was proud of each and every one of the courageous elves and men who were so dedicated to staying the evil that threatened them, their homes, families and friends. He had no doubt that they would give fully of their hearts, bodies and minds to win this battle.
As for himself, Gandalf thought, the fury of a Maiar in the midst of battle would soon be felt. He was ready.
The twin sons of Elrond stood shoulder-to-shoulder, slightly touching, as they waited for the battle to begin. The two brothers were each truly a part of the other, a physical and emotional bond that only twins could understand, and even though off the battlefield the two were the pranksters and cutups of the elven world, on the battlefield, their fierceness and skills were such that few could match them. They were truly a force to be reckoned with.
The ground began to tremble beneath the feet of the defending army and soon the warriors knew the enemy was approaching. As if on cue, the defenders melted into the shadows of the trees and waited, leaving the meadow silent and barren.
Gandalf and Radagast cast an Istari Masking Spell to hide the life forces of the hidden warriors so that when the wraiths arrived, they would be unable to sense the warriors hidden in the trees.
When the 20 wraiths entered the meadow, or arena, at a run, they expected to see the she-elf and the black stallion. In addition, they thought the area was an open-end meadow and so could not explain why the far end of the field was now blocked by trees. Nor could they explain why the trees were quivering in what seemed to be anticipation. In confusion, all 20 of the wraiths pulled their horses to a stop.
For some moments the riders milled about in confusion, scanning the surrounding forest for any sign of the elf. Though they could not sense the presence of the warriors hiding among the trees, they could sense that something was not right.
From her vantage point among the branches of the tree, Anayah could see the evil creatures below her, milling about, unsure of themselves for perhaps the first time since the beginning of the conflict. She could sense that her foster-father, her Commander, was about to give the command to begin the battle. She whispered to herself fiercely.
"Guruthos nallo, leithian I huatho auth!" (Cry havoc, and let slip the dogs of war.)
And so it began.
Suddenly, the loud booming voice of Lord Elrond, Noldor Lord of Imladris, could be heard giving the first command.
"Archers, ready!"
Every archer in the trees surrounding the field, knocked an arrow and drew their bows, eyes never moving from their targets.
In a move reminiscent of dueling warriors in which the swiftest warrior would have been victorious, the captain of the wraiths raised his hand to cast a defensive spell over himself and those with him.
"Fire!" Came the command.
As had been decided previously, each archer released just one arrow then watched with sinking hearts as the arrows phased out and went right through their targets without inflicting any damage at all. Every archer cursed under his and her breath. The wraith Captain had cast his defensive spell before the arrows had a chance to reach their targets. However, and herein the first tactical error was made by the Wraith Captain himself. Where he should have turned and fled back down the field when he had first sensed that something was wrong, he had not and therein lay his error, one that was about to cost him dearly.
Seeing that the arrows had inflicted no damage, and knowing the reason why, Radagast cast a spell to counter the defensive magic and Gandalf cast a Restraining Spell that would restrain the wraiths' horses. If the wraiths wanted to turn and run now, their horses would not be able to move.
Again Elrond gave the order for the archers to fire and again the archers complied. The arrows sang a song of death as they flew toward their targets.
Twenty arrows flew through the air toward the wraiths and all 20 horses fell to the kindness of death. No longer would the poor beasts have to suffer the cruel whips and spurs of their evil masters and no longer would they be forced to run until their hearts and lungs burst from their efforts, their lives fleeing from their cooling bodies. With the death of the horses, the wraiths lost their mobility and now they would be forced to stand and fight on foot. Slowly the wraiths picked themselves up off the ground where they had fallen, some having difficulty extricating themselves from beneath their dead mounts. At their Captain's command, they formed a circle, facing outwards.
Gandalf and Radagast watched the Shadow Wraiths closely, ready to counter any spell the evil beings might try and use against their enemies.
Elrond gave the command for the ground warriors to advance, his voice being well-heard over the sounds of the approaching army of Orcs who were doing their best to answer the silent summons of their masters.
"Fighters advance!"
From out of the trees now came the ten warriors whose duty it would be to surround and dispatch the wraiths. Without words and without haste, they formed a circle around the evil beings.
The wraiths, standing back-to-back, drew their swords. They were now aware that there was someone on the field capable of wielding magic and though they knew the she-elf could have been the being that disabled their defensive spell, somehow, the spell they encountered had sung a different song, an older song. Somewhere among the trees, there was an Istar wizard.
The Wraith Captain cast another spell and the ring of warriors surrounding them burst into flame. Though it appeared the ring of warriors around them burnt with an evil fire, those within the flames were not harmed! The defenders yet lived! For the first time since the beginning of the battle, their certainty of purpose wavered.
"Archers, volley!" Elrond's voice rang out clearly. Again the archers complied.
Though the Captain cast another protection spell around his fellows, he was not quick enough, for too long had he stood, stunned by the fact that there was someone on the field capable of wielding magic that was clearly a match for their own. This time, the arrows brought down several wraiths.
"Warriors advance!"
The command rang clear in the air and the warriors complied, advancing, closing the circle around the wraiths.
The human and Elven warriors had been paired for a reason. Not only could one warrior protect his fellow warrior from an attack coming from behind, but if one warrior tired or was wounded, the one standing behind him could take over and give his partner a chance to rest.
As the circle was closed even more, the fallen wraiths, though weakened, were starting to rise from the ground. Before any could fully regain their feet, however, the advancing elven and human warriors, took their heads. Black wisps of mist, as black as the hearts that once had kept them alive, rose from the headless bodies and were soon dispersed by the wind.
Chaos erupted on the field as the main body of Orcs arrived. The defenders knew they were outnumbered but were still determined that neither wraith nor Orc would see the setting of the sun.
"Steady!" The words helped refocus the warriors fighting the wraiths.
Then the rest of the warriors waiting in the trees heard the command they had long been waiting for as it was relayed from lieutenant to lieutenant from where Elrond stood at the head of the field, the ever-faithful Glorfindel standing ready by his side.
"Govadath i coth!" (Meet the enemy!)
Radagast the Brown raised both hands skyward, calling softly to his four-legged and winged warriors in the ancient language of the Maiar. In answer, a great flock of ravens dived earthward, into the faces of the oncoming Orcs where their sharp talons raked at their faces, cutting deep grooves in Orc flesh, gouging out eyes and drawing black Orc blood. Though no Orc suffered a mortal wound, they were slowed, and this made them easier to kill.
Several great brown and black bears ran from concealment in the trees and, rising to their back legs, began to systematically maim and kill any Orc that was foolish enough to come within reach of their mighty claws.
A group of wild boars burst from the surrounding forest and began to gore and trample the Orc invaders using their long tusks to tear holes in the Orcs while sharp teeth mauled those foolish enough to fall to the ground.
Seeing that the main body of Orcs was indeed in the arena and that all warriors were needed, Elrond called out another order.
"Sharpshooters only!"
At his command, all reserve warriors still hidden in the trees as well as all but four archers joined the battle. Only the sharpshooters, Legolas and Anayah on the west side of the field and a Lórien and Mirkwood archer on the east side of the field, remained at their posts in the trees.
The battle was waged furiously by both sides. The wraiths, were effectively contained by the circle of warriors and were unable to protect the Orcs with magic as had been planned. The Orcs greatly outnumbered the defenders and even though many were falling to elf, man and beast, there were still too many that still lived and who were dealing death.
Slowly, the sharpshooters were picking off the wraiths although their efforts were being hindered by their fellow warriors who would inadvertently step between the archers and their intended targets. Not only were the four archers responsible for killing the remaining wraiths, but they were also finding themselves in a support position as they would often have to shoot in defense of an overwhelmed ground warrior.
The ring surrounding the wraiths was tightening and the elves and men surrounding them were now fighting with swords. While one of the pair fought the wraiths and beheaded those that fell to the archers, the warriors standing at their backs were now protecting their partners from the onslaught of Orcs. The Restraining Spell that had previously prevented their escape was now preventing them from using their magic as a weapon.
The twin sons of Elrond, true to their nature as twins, were always aware of each other and made a point of always fighting close to where his twin stood. Both fought fiercely, despite their own wounds. Elladan and Elrohir had a special and most personal reason for hating Orcs as it was these foul and perverted creatures that had violated and tortured their own mother to the point where she had finally sought solace in Valinor, leaving her family desolate and grieving.
Celeborn and Haldir fought back-to-back. Celeborn's strong arm wielded his sword with deadly precision as he felled Orc after Orc, while Haldir sword took down the Orcs powerfully and tirelessly. Neither warriors' sword was ever still, slashing, hacking, stabbing and cutting. Haldir would often switch places with his Lord, at which time he clearly proved why his skills as a warrior were so highly favored by the Lord and Lady of Caras Galadhon.
Eomer of Rohan and Léoden, his second-in-command fought valiantly and skillfully. Ever-faithful, Léoden was never far from his Lord, defending his Lord's back, tirelessly while Eomer showed the sword-skill that would one day earn this Lord of the Rohirrim much renown while fighting at the side of the future King of Gondor.
Though his son was always in his thoughts, the Mirkwood King fought with a strength and valor that few could match. The big Sindar Lord was fighting not only as a father but also as an ally and king, trying to stay the darkness that was ever threatening the life of his people and also his beloved forest.
Aragorn and Halbarad fought as only the Dúnadain, the descendants of the men of Westernesse, could have fought. Ducking, striking, and whirling, they fought like the Rangers they were, with a dirty, anything-goes style. Aragorn, of the two, had been wounded after being struck by a poisoned Orc weapon as he had tried to pull Halbarad to his feet after the man had slipped on the grass slick with Orc blood and had fallen. Seeing his friend and second-in-command about to be fatally struck by an Orc, Aragorn had stepped in to try and deflect the blow. He had only been partially successful. The poisoned Orc blade had sliced diagonally down his sword arm from shoulder to elbow and though weakening from the Orc poison and from blood loss, he fought on as though he did not feel his pain.
Elrond and Glorfindel had joined the fight that had now become an organized free-for-all. Both elves fought with skills learned over many millennia. Often, the battle cry of the Gondolin elf could be heard echoing over the din of battle as he used his legendary strength to destroy the foul creatures who made the mistake of engaging him in combat.
All but two of the wraiths had been destroyed and the archers, now out of arrows, had come down from the trees to join the battle.
Legolas and Anayah were fighting close to each other. Anayah had split her sword and now fought with swords in both hands. She had caught the Mirkwood archer's eye as he stared at her a moment, not fully comprehending what she had just done. Looking at her friend, she winked then had turned back to the business at hand.
She was not still for a single moment, both swords moving continuously in graceful, deadly arcs, one blocking the other striking. Though much smaller in stature than the other warriors, Anayah moved with the grace of a dancer and the strength of a warrior three times her size. The Orcs soon found out how hard it was to strike someone who was moving so quickly that they could barely follow her movements. Often they would strike what they thought would be a killing blow only to find their own stomachs or chests open and spilling their contents onto the already bloody ground while their intended target had already moved on and was attacking another foe.
Legolas was her male counterpoint. Where Anayah was quick and graceful, Legolas, was just as graceful and quick and he fought with the cunning and power, skills that had been learned and honed over a lifetime. He fought with his ivory-handled knives both of which were moving so quickly that a human's eye would be hard-pressed to follow their movements.
Legolas had fallen heavily to the ground, tackled from behind by a wounded and disarmed Orc. Another Orc, fighting nearby had seen the prince go down and with his own blood lust upon him had raised his scimitar to deal a killing blow to the downed elf. The blow, when it did land, only managed to dig a shallow groove in the wood elf's side, being deflected when the Orc was forcefully tackled by a rather irate she-elf. Rolling nimbly over the Orc she had tackled and quickly regaining her feet, she brought the tips of both swords swiftly into, then out of, the neck and chest of the foul creature, killing him quickly and without mercy. Extending a hand to her friend, who quickly took it, she pulled him to his feet.
"Are you all right?" She asked.
"I'm fine." He replied.
"Then let's finish this."
With that being said, the two returned to the battle. Far from being over, the tide of the battle was turning in the favor of the invaders, the defenders being slowly pushed back by the sheer mass of Orcs even though both Gandalf and Radagast had entered the battle and were doing more than their share of killing the enemy.
Two things happened at that moment that brought hope as well as a surge of relief to the defenders. From high over the battle field, there came a loud cry. The Orcs looked up in dismay while a cheer broke out from the elves and men as they recognized that Gwaihir, the Wind Lord, had come back to the battle and this time he was not alone.
Gwaihir and five of his best warrior-eagles swooped down on the Orcs with deadly intent, fighting with talons and beaks and leaving headless and dismembered Orc bodies in their wake.
The second occurrence which the surviving members of the defending army also welcomed with a loud cheer was when horns sounded in the distance. Lord Erkenbrand of Westfold had arrived with 1,000 fresh and mounted warriors and where once, a little more than 600 warriors had stood between the three elven realms and 2,000 Orcs and 20 shadow wraiths, there now stood an army, revitalized and with fresh determination.
It did not take long for the cavalry of the Westfold warriors to plow through the Orc army almost completely destroying them. The few Orcs that remained fled through what used to be the open end of a beautiful valley. The Orcs that managed to reach the trees soon found out why, at the beginning of the battle, the trees had seemed to almost quiver in anticipation. As the last of the Orcs disappeared beneath the boughs, their screams could be heard as they met their doom.
The battle was soon over. Those nearest the end of the valley turned to the group of trees that had so quickly dispatched the remaining Orcs. Lord Elrond, being the closest to the Huorns, caught the eye of the three Ents who were supervising their actions and raised his sword in a salute of thanks.
The few Orcs that still remained on the battlefield were quickly being dispatched leaving only one unfinished issue. By magic, slight-of-hand and by his own skill as a swordsman, the wraith Captain still lived and seeing that the battle had been lost, he was now attempting to flee. Grabbing a passing, riderless horse, he swung into the saddle and fled down the valley.
Anayah saw him leaving and whistled sharply, calling Elias to her. After quickly leaping to his back, she paused for a moment to put on black riding gloves as well as a band on her right forearm knowing that she was battle weary and the extra equipment would keep her sword from slipping from tired hands and the forearm band would support the tired forearm muscles of her sword arm.
Dimly she was aware of voices calling her name. The twins were yelling at her to wait, Aragorn was yelling at her to stop, and all three were running toward her across the bloody battlefield. Just as she was about to set her heels to the big stallion, she felt a hand on hers and looked down into blue eyes that were threatening to shed tears.
"Please, do not do this. You have done enough."
"Legolas, you know I have to. It has to end."
"I know," was his whispered reply as he released his hold on her and stepped back.
She said goodbye in the only way a true friend could - with a hand to her heart. She then focused her attention back on her horse.
"Let's go, Old Man."
With an answering snort of anticipation, the stallion rose on his hind legs and screamed his defiance at the retreating wraith. Then he literally leaped forward and was soon running swiftly down the field after the fleeing wraith.
Many eyes watched her leave. Celeborn turned to Haldir trying to judge his reactions. The elf stood staring after the departing she-elf. Lothlórien's Lord then spoke the words that he knew were in his Captain's heart as well as in his own.
"May the Valar ride with her and may their grace protect her."
As he stood watching his foster-daughter leave the field in pursuit of the one remaining wraith, Elrond suddenly realized he could do nothing to stop her and probably would have done nothing even if he had been in a position to do so. While his father's heart was screaming at himself to stop her, he knew he could not. This was something she had to do.
Other whistles could then be heard after which four elvish horses leaped from where they had concealed themselves among the trees. All Lord Elrond could do was stand and watch as his three sons and the Mirkwood Prince mounted then followed after their sister and friend. He shook his head.
"Sweet Eru. Now I am positive that none of them has any common sense at all."
Aragorn was in the lead as he, his brothers and Legolas chased after the swiftly disappearing she-elf.
"This time, sister, you are not going to do this thing alone!"
It was a sentiment silently echoed in the minds and hearts of those who rode with him.
TBC
DesolateAznVamp: Thank you for the review! I hope you like this chapter also.
Soccer-Bitch: Here's the big battle scene. Hope you like it. There is another big battle in the next chapter.
Sly-Fan: Thanks for the review! Hope you like this chapter.
(Translation) Cry havoc, and let slip the dogs of war
A/N: The English translation of the above quote is by Shakespeare and was written for the play, Julius Caesar: III-1
My apologies to William Shakespeare as well as Professor Tolkien if I have butchered the translation too badly.
"Govadath i coth!"
Meet the enemy!
Rabbits in this instance, means two beings used to lure a predator.
Under Siege
Every warrior sent private thanks to the Valar, not only for the successful mission of the two courageous rabbits but because things seemed to be proceeding more according to the intentions of the battle's planners.
When Elias reached the staging area of Arena One, he slid to a stop on his hocks, his forefeet coming slightly off the ground in an effort to go from a dead run to a complete stop in a very small area. Legolas was immediately at the stallion's head, steadying the horse as Anayah dismounted. Slapping Elias lightly on his hindquarters, she told her friend to go hide in the trees and with a snort, the big stallion complied. Then Legolas handed Huan to her as well as three quivers of arrows after which the two ran to the trees they would be shooting from and climbed quickly to the flets that had been constructed for the archers some days before.
She hung two quivers of arrows on nearby branches where they would be within reach when needed and the third quiver was slung onto her back. Anayah was skilled enough that drawing arrows with speed and accuracy from either a quiver hanging from her back or one laying at her feet posed no problem. However, since she was in a tree, she placed the third quiver on her back as she did not want to lose it by accident in the middle of the battle. Looking over to the next tree she caught Legolas's attention and gave the Mirkwood archer the thumbs up signal indicating her readiness. He smiled back at her encouragingly having somehow sensed that she was nervous. Taking a deep breath then letting it out slowly, she tried to relax as everyone waited for the wraiths to appear.
As the Lord of the defending Elven realm, Lord Elrond would be this campaign's Commander and it was his responsibility to oversee all aspects of the battle which included the deployment of the warriors. Though it had been nearly 3,000 years since he had last had the responsibility for so many warriors, he had fallen into his duty with all the knowledge, grace and dignity of the many millennia he had lived in Middle Earth.
He looked over the field one last time and nodded his head, satisfied that all was well. Though he could not see the warriors farther down the field who would remain hidden until the Orcs arrived, his elvish senses told him that they were in position and ready. The elves and men in both arenas were seasoned warriors, yet Elrond knew they were all still nervous. The Noldor Lord smiled. He believed that nervousness in battle was a good thing because it meant they were all in a heightened state of alertness, a heightened state of alertness sometimes being one of the most powerful means of defense.
Though every warrior knew they were outnumbered, especially since Lord Erkenbrand of Westfold had yet to arrive, each heart on the battlefield knew their cause was righteous and once the conflict began, Elrond was sure the warriors would fight to whatever end may come.
The line was being drawn here, in this field, and here every warrior, elf as well as human, would make their stand, without reservations, because every one of them knew that if Imladris fell to the Dark Lord's devices, there would be nothing to stand in the way of future attacks on Mirkwood and Lórien. May Ilúvatar keep watch over them all.
Sensing his friend's unrest, Glorfindel laid his hand on Elrond's shoulder.
"This is a good army, my friend. These are good men, good elves, good warriors. They will do well, for they fight for their families and friends as well as their homes. There could be no more powerful motivation than that."
Elrond looked at the Gondolin elf. The two had been friends for many years and it was only to the Balrog slayer that he would ever admit his misgivings and uncertainties.
"Many brave warriors will die today, Glorfindel, Firstborn as well as Secondborn. If this day sees us victorious, it will have been a victory bought and paid for with the blood of many noble beings. I know now is not the time to ponder the intricacies of good and evil, but these thoughts sadden me nevertheless. Many of our friends will not dine with us this night, nor will they return to their homes where their loved ones anxiously await their return."
"I know, Elrond. These things sadden me also. But we must remind ourselves that the pain of their loss will be lessened, knowing that whether the warriors sleep this night in the arms of Mandos or if their travels take them beyond the circles of this world, the warriors who leave us will forever be remembered and honored for their courage."
Elrond nodded his head in agreement as he continued to look over the battlefield.
Ten archers had been placed on flets high in the trees along the eastern perimeter of the field. All ten knew their assignments and duties and waited the commands of their leader.
On the west side of the field, an additional ten archers stood on flets in the trees, also waiting Elrond's commands. Among these ten were Legolas of Mirkwood and Anayah of Imladris. They, along with their fellow archers, waited for the wraiths to appear knowing that when they did, their jobs would begin.
Lord Celeborn looked at his Lórien Captain, wondering how the elf was dealing with the idea of fighting in the same battle as the young she-elf he had helped raise and who he thought of almost as a daughter. His curiosity was put to rest when he saw the businesslike expression on the elf's face. Haldir was a seasoned warrior and knew how to tend to the business at hand and although he would worry about Anayah, once the battle began in earnest, all his thoughts, energy and considerable skills, would be focused solely on the destruction of Orcs and Wraiths.
Sensing the nervousness of the young man he had chosen to be his second-in-command for this battle, Eomer smiled and put a steadying hand on the man's shoulder.
"Did you ever think, Léoden, on the day we began our travels to seek the aid of the elves, that we would end up in such a grand battle?"
"No, my lord, I did not. But I do believe this is a worthy cause and one in which the outcome will affect us all. If we do not make a stand here, then we may just as well find some hole to crawl into for I do not believe we would then be worthy or capable of a final defense when Sauron comes to full power."
"Truly, my friend, truly."
Halbarad stole a sideways glance at his Chief. Among the Rangers, Halbarad was one of the few who fully knew and understood the young man's future destiny and though he knew Aragorn was a fierce and capable warrior, he still worried that something would happen and he would fall. It would be up to him, Aragorn's second-in-command, to see to it that did not occur.
Aragorn was more than just the Chieftain of the Dúnadain. He was a good friend and a good man and though he was a bit reckless, in Halbarad's opinion, the older man knew he could not want for a better warrior to stand at his side.
After speaking briefly to the elf warrior who would be fighting at his side, the Mirkwood King had fallen silent, deep in his own thoughts. He did not like the idea of his only son taking part in this battle, telling himself that having both King and Crown Prince of a realm on the same field was a reckless act that courted disaster although he also knew full-well that Legolas would have it no other way. His second family needed him. Aragorn, his best friend and brother, was fighting in this battle and there was no other place the prince would rather be than fighting at the adan's side.
Thranduil thought back to when the two had first met and remembered how he had disapproved of their relationship. But through the years, as he had seen the true bond of friendship and brotherhood that had developed between the two, he had mellowed. In time, he had even developed a respect for the future King of Men. His worry now, was that if Aragorn fell in this battle and departed to wherever mortals went when they died, that his beloved son would follow.
Gandalf and Radagast chatted amiably. Neither of the wizards, gray nor brown, feared death, both being not only Istari but Maiar as well. Though it had been said of Radagast that he had fallen to the dark devices of Sauron, Gandalf knew otherwise. No, Gandalf thought to himself, the brown wizard had not fallen, rather, he had dedicated himself to the defense and nurturing of the silent ones, the creatures of Middle Earth.
These allies, these creatures, would come to the battle at the request of Radagast. They would come in flocks, in herds, singly, in pairs and in masses and they would fight as long, as hard and as loyally as any of the two-legged warriors. Though their concept of death as well as their motivations for joining this conflict were not the same as those of the two-legged beings, and they knew that death could very well await them, they would still do what they could to hinder and stay the evil they would meet on the field this day.
Though Gandalf carried the third ring of power, Narya, which held the power to inspire the hearts of men, he knew that there was inspiration enough in the hearts that beat on the battlefield on this day. He was proud of each and every one of the courageous elves and men who were so dedicated to staying the evil that threatened them, their homes, families and friends. He had no doubt that they would give fully of their hearts, bodies and minds to win this battle.
As for himself, Gandalf thought, the fury of a Maiar in the midst of battle would soon be felt. He was ready.
The twin sons of Elrond stood shoulder-to-shoulder, slightly touching, as they waited for the battle to begin. The two brothers were each truly a part of the other, a physical and emotional bond that only twins could understand, and even though off the battlefield the two were the pranksters and cutups of the elven world, on the battlefield, their fierceness and skills were such that few could match them. They were truly a force to be reckoned with.
The ground began to tremble beneath the feet of the defending army and soon the warriors knew the enemy was approaching. As if on cue, the defenders melted into the shadows of the trees and waited, leaving the meadow silent and barren.
Gandalf and Radagast cast an Istari Masking Spell to hide the life forces of the hidden warriors so that when the wraiths arrived, they would be unable to sense the warriors hidden in the trees.
When the 20 wraiths entered the meadow, or arena, at a run, they expected to see the she-elf and the black stallion. In addition, they thought the area was an open-end meadow and so could not explain why the far end of the field was now blocked by trees. Nor could they explain why the trees were quivering in what seemed to be anticipation. In confusion, all 20 of the wraiths pulled their horses to a stop.
For some moments the riders milled about in confusion, scanning the surrounding forest for any sign of the elf. Though they could not sense the presence of the warriors hiding among the trees, they could sense that something was not right.
From her vantage point among the branches of the tree, Anayah could see the evil creatures below her, milling about, unsure of themselves for perhaps the first time since the beginning of the conflict. She could sense that her foster-father, her Commander, was about to give the command to begin the battle. She whispered to herself fiercely.
"Guruthos nallo, leithian I huatho auth!" (Cry havoc, and let slip the dogs of war.)
And so it began.
Suddenly, the loud booming voice of Lord Elrond, Noldor Lord of Imladris, could be heard giving the first command.
"Archers, ready!"
Every archer in the trees surrounding the field, knocked an arrow and drew their bows, eyes never moving from their targets.
In a move reminiscent of dueling warriors in which the swiftest warrior would have been victorious, the captain of the wraiths raised his hand to cast a defensive spell over himself and those with him.
"Fire!" Came the command.
As had been decided previously, each archer released just one arrow then watched with sinking hearts as the arrows phased out and went right through their targets without inflicting any damage at all. Every archer cursed under his and her breath. The wraith Captain had cast his defensive spell before the arrows had a chance to reach their targets. However, and herein the first tactical error was made by the Wraith Captain himself. Where he should have turned and fled back down the field when he had first sensed that something was wrong, he had not and therein lay his error, one that was about to cost him dearly.
Seeing that the arrows had inflicted no damage, and knowing the reason why, Radagast cast a spell to counter the defensive magic and Gandalf cast a Restraining Spell that would restrain the wraiths' horses. If the wraiths wanted to turn and run now, their horses would not be able to move.
Again Elrond gave the order for the archers to fire and again the archers complied. The arrows sang a song of death as they flew toward their targets.
Twenty arrows flew through the air toward the wraiths and all 20 horses fell to the kindness of death. No longer would the poor beasts have to suffer the cruel whips and spurs of their evil masters and no longer would they be forced to run until their hearts and lungs burst from their efforts, their lives fleeing from their cooling bodies. With the death of the horses, the wraiths lost their mobility and now they would be forced to stand and fight on foot. Slowly the wraiths picked themselves up off the ground where they had fallen, some having difficulty extricating themselves from beneath their dead mounts. At their Captain's command, they formed a circle, facing outwards.
Gandalf and Radagast watched the Shadow Wraiths closely, ready to counter any spell the evil beings might try and use against their enemies.
Elrond gave the command for the ground warriors to advance, his voice being well-heard over the sounds of the approaching army of Orcs who were doing their best to answer the silent summons of their masters.
"Fighters advance!"
From out of the trees now came the ten warriors whose duty it would be to surround and dispatch the wraiths. Without words and without haste, they formed a circle around the evil beings.
The wraiths, standing back-to-back, drew their swords. They were now aware that there was someone on the field capable of wielding magic and though they knew the she-elf could have been the being that disabled their defensive spell, somehow, the spell they encountered had sung a different song, an older song. Somewhere among the trees, there was an Istar wizard.
The Wraith Captain cast another spell and the ring of warriors surrounding them burst into flame. Though it appeared the ring of warriors around them burnt with an evil fire, those within the flames were not harmed! The defenders yet lived! For the first time since the beginning of the battle, their certainty of purpose wavered.
"Archers, volley!" Elrond's voice rang out clearly. Again the archers complied.
Though the Captain cast another protection spell around his fellows, he was not quick enough, for too long had he stood, stunned by the fact that there was someone on the field capable of wielding magic that was clearly a match for their own. This time, the arrows brought down several wraiths.
"Warriors advance!"
The command rang clear in the air and the warriors complied, advancing, closing the circle around the wraiths.
The human and Elven warriors had been paired for a reason. Not only could one warrior protect his fellow warrior from an attack coming from behind, but if one warrior tired or was wounded, the one standing behind him could take over and give his partner a chance to rest.
As the circle was closed even more, the fallen wraiths, though weakened, were starting to rise from the ground. Before any could fully regain their feet, however, the advancing elven and human warriors, took their heads. Black wisps of mist, as black as the hearts that once had kept them alive, rose from the headless bodies and were soon dispersed by the wind.
Chaos erupted on the field as the main body of Orcs arrived. The defenders knew they were outnumbered but were still determined that neither wraith nor Orc would see the setting of the sun.
"Steady!" The words helped refocus the warriors fighting the wraiths.
Then the rest of the warriors waiting in the trees heard the command they had long been waiting for as it was relayed from lieutenant to lieutenant from where Elrond stood at the head of the field, the ever-faithful Glorfindel standing ready by his side.
"Govadath i coth!" (Meet the enemy!)
Radagast the Brown raised both hands skyward, calling softly to his four-legged and winged warriors in the ancient language of the Maiar. In answer, a great flock of ravens dived earthward, into the faces of the oncoming Orcs where their sharp talons raked at their faces, cutting deep grooves in Orc flesh, gouging out eyes and drawing black Orc blood. Though no Orc suffered a mortal wound, they were slowed, and this made them easier to kill.
Several great brown and black bears ran from concealment in the trees and, rising to their back legs, began to systematically maim and kill any Orc that was foolish enough to come within reach of their mighty claws.
A group of wild boars burst from the surrounding forest and began to gore and trample the Orc invaders using their long tusks to tear holes in the Orcs while sharp teeth mauled those foolish enough to fall to the ground.
Seeing that the main body of Orcs was indeed in the arena and that all warriors were needed, Elrond called out another order.
"Sharpshooters only!"
At his command, all reserve warriors still hidden in the trees as well as all but four archers joined the battle. Only the sharpshooters, Legolas and Anayah on the west side of the field and a Lórien and Mirkwood archer on the east side of the field, remained at their posts in the trees.
The battle was waged furiously by both sides. The wraiths, were effectively contained by the circle of warriors and were unable to protect the Orcs with magic as had been planned. The Orcs greatly outnumbered the defenders and even though many were falling to elf, man and beast, there were still too many that still lived and who were dealing death.
Slowly, the sharpshooters were picking off the wraiths although their efforts were being hindered by their fellow warriors who would inadvertently step between the archers and their intended targets. Not only were the four archers responsible for killing the remaining wraiths, but they were also finding themselves in a support position as they would often have to shoot in defense of an overwhelmed ground warrior.
The ring surrounding the wraiths was tightening and the elves and men surrounding them were now fighting with swords. While one of the pair fought the wraiths and beheaded those that fell to the archers, the warriors standing at their backs were now protecting their partners from the onslaught of Orcs. The Restraining Spell that had previously prevented their escape was now preventing them from using their magic as a weapon.
The twin sons of Elrond, true to their nature as twins, were always aware of each other and made a point of always fighting close to where his twin stood. Both fought fiercely, despite their own wounds. Elladan and Elrohir had a special and most personal reason for hating Orcs as it was these foul and perverted creatures that had violated and tortured their own mother to the point where she had finally sought solace in Valinor, leaving her family desolate and grieving.
Celeborn and Haldir fought back-to-back. Celeborn's strong arm wielded his sword with deadly precision as he felled Orc after Orc, while Haldir sword took down the Orcs powerfully and tirelessly. Neither warriors' sword was ever still, slashing, hacking, stabbing and cutting. Haldir would often switch places with his Lord, at which time he clearly proved why his skills as a warrior were so highly favored by the Lord and Lady of Caras Galadhon.
Eomer of Rohan and Léoden, his second-in-command fought valiantly and skillfully. Ever-faithful, Léoden was never far from his Lord, defending his Lord's back, tirelessly while Eomer showed the sword-skill that would one day earn this Lord of the Rohirrim much renown while fighting at the side of the future King of Gondor.
Though his son was always in his thoughts, the Mirkwood King fought with a strength and valor that few could match. The big Sindar Lord was fighting not only as a father but also as an ally and king, trying to stay the darkness that was ever threatening the life of his people and also his beloved forest.
Aragorn and Halbarad fought as only the Dúnadain, the descendants of the men of Westernesse, could have fought. Ducking, striking, and whirling, they fought like the Rangers they were, with a dirty, anything-goes style. Aragorn, of the two, had been wounded after being struck by a poisoned Orc weapon as he had tried to pull Halbarad to his feet after the man had slipped on the grass slick with Orc blood and had fallen. Seeing his friend and second-in-command about to be fatally struck by an Orc, Aragorn had stepped in to try and deflect the blow. He had only been partially successful. The poisoned Orc blade had sliced diagonally down his sword arm from shoulder to elbow and though weakening from the Orc poison and from blood loss, he fought on as though he did not feel his pain.
Elrond and Glorfindel had joined the fight that had now become an organized free-for-all. Both elves fought with skills learned over many millennia. Often, the battle cry of the Gondolin elf could be heard echoing over the din of battle as he used his legendary strength to destroy the foul creatures who made the mistake of engaging him in combat.
All but two of the wraiths had been destroyed and the archers, now out of arrows, had come down from the trees to join the battle.
Legolas and Anayah were fighting close to each other. Anayah had split her sword and now fought with swords in both hands. She had caught the Mirkwood archer's eye as he stared at her a moment, not fully comprehending what she had just done. Looking at her friend, she winked then had turned back to the business at hand.
She was not still for a single moment, both swords moving continuously in graceful, deadly arcs, one blocking the other striking. Though much smaller in stature than the other warriors, Anayah moved with the grace of a dancer and the strength of a warrior three times her size. The Orcs soon found out how hard it was to strike someone who was moving so quickly that they could barely follow her movements. Often they would strike what they thought would be a killing blow only to find their own stomachs or chests open and spilling their contents onto the already bloody ground while their intended target had already moved on and was attacking another foe.
Legolas was her male counterpoint. Where Anayah was quick and graceful, Legolas, was just as graceful and quick and he fought with the cunning and power, skills that had been learned and honed over a lifetime. He fought with his ivory-handled knives both of which were moving so quickly that a human's eye would be hard-pressed to follow their movements.
Legolas had fallen heavily to the ground, tackled from behind by a wounded and disarmed Orc. Another Orc, fighting nearby had seen the prince go down and with his own blood lust upon him had raised his scimitar to deal a killing blow to the downed elf. The blow, when it did land, only managed to dig a shallow groove in the wood elf's side, being deflected when the Orc was forcefully tackled by a rather irate she-elf. Rolling nimbly over the Orc she had tackled and quickly regaining her feet, she brought the tips of both swords swiftly into, then out of, the neck and chest of the foul creature, killing him quickly and without mercy. Extending a hand to her friend, who quickly took it, she pulled him to his feet.
"Are you all right?" She asked.
"I'm fine." He replied.
"Then let's finish this."
With that being said, the two returned to the battle. Far from being over, the tide of the battle was turning in the favor of the invaders, the defenders being slowly pushed back by the sheer mass of Orcs even though both Gandalf and Radagast had entered the battle and were doing more than their share of killing the enemy.
Two things happened at that moment that brought hope as well as a surge of relief to the defenders. From high over the battle field, there came a loud cry. The Orcs looked up in dismay while a cheer broke out from the elves and men as they recognized that Gwaihir, the Wind Lord, had come back to the battle and this time he was not alone.
Gwaihir and five of his best warrior-eagles swooped down on the Orcs with deadly intent, fighting with talons and beaks and leaving headless and dismembered Orc bodies in their wake.
The second occurrence which the surviving members of the defending army also welcomed with a loud cheer was when horns sounded in the distance. Lord Erkenbrand of Westfold had arrived with 1,000 fresh and mounted warriors and where once, a little more than 600 warriors had stood between the three elven realms and 2,000 Orcs and 20 shadow wraiths, there now stood an army, revitalized and with fresh determination.
It did not take long for the cavalry of the Westfold warriors to plow through the Orc army almost completely destroying them. The few Orcs that remained fled through what used to be the open end of a beautiful valley. The Orcs that managed to reach the trees soon found out why, at the beginning of the battle, the trees had seemed to almost quiver in anticipation. As the last of the Orcs disappeared beneath the boughs, their screams could be heard as they met their doom.
The battle was soon over. Those nearest the end of the valley turned to the group of trees that had so quickly dispatched the remaining Orcs. Lord Elrond, being the closest to the Huorns, caught the eye of the three Ents who were supervising their actions and raised his sword in a salute of thanks.
The few Orcs that still remained on the battlefield were quickly being dispatched leaving only one unfinished issue. By magic, slight-of-hand and by his own skill as a swordsman, the wraith Captain still lived and seeing that the battle had been lost, he was now attempting to flee. Grabbing a passing, riderless horse, he swung into the saddle and fled down the valley.
Anayah saw him leaving and whistled sharply, calling Elias to her. After quickly leaping to his back, she paused for a moment to put on black riding gloves as well as a band on her right forearm knowing that she was battle weary and the extra equipment would keep her sword from slipping from tired hands and the forearm band would support the tired forearm muscles of her sword arm.
Dimly she was aware of voices calling her name. The twins were yelling at her to wait, Aragorn was yelling at her to stop, and all three were running toward her across the bloody battlefield. Just as she was about to set her heels to the big stallion, she felt a hand on hers and looked down into blue eyes that were threatening to shed tears.
"Please, do not do this. You have done enough."
"Legolas, you know I have to. It has to end."
"I know," was his whispered reply as he released his hold on her and stepped back.
She said goodbye in the only way a true friend could - with a hand to her heart. She then focused her attention back on her horse.
"Let's go, Old Man."
With an answering snort of anticipation, the stallion rose on his hind legs and screamed his defiance at the retreating wraith. Then he literally leaped forward and was soon running swiftly down the field after the fleeing wraith.
Many eyes watched her leave. Celeborn turned to Haldir trying to judge his reactions. The elf stood staring after the departing she-elf. Lothlórien's Lord then spoke the words that he knew were in his Captain's heart as well as in his own.
"May the Valar ride with her and may their grace protect her."
As he stood watching his foster-daughter leave the field in pursuit of the one remaining wraith, Elrond suddenly realized he could do nothing to stop her and probably would have done nothing even if he had been in a position to do so. While his father's heart was screaming at himself to stop her, he knew he could not. This was something she had to do.
Other whistles could then be heard after which four elvish horses leaped from where they had concealed themselves among the trees. All Lord Elrond could do was stand and watch as his three sons and the Mirkwood Prince mounted then followed after their sister and friend. He shook his head.
"Sweet Eru. Now I am positive that none of them has any common sense at all."
Aragorn was in the lead as he, his brothers and Legolas chased after the swiftly disappearing she-elf.
"This time, sister, you are not going to do this thing alone!"
It was a sentiment silently echoed in the minds and hearts of those who rode with him.
TBC
DesolateAznVamp: Thank you for the review! I hope you like this chapter also.
Soccer-Bitch: Here's the big battle scene. Hope you like it. There is another big battle in the next chapter.
Sly-Fan: Thanks for the review! Hope you like this chapter.