Into Hell
She felt the air change slightly as Gandalf closed his eyes and spoke ancient words that almost rippled the air. She did not know what she was expecting; a flash of light or a crash of thunder, but suddenly the wizard pushed her and she fell through something that felt cold and clingy like water. There was a quiet slurping sound as the gateway closed behind her and she was through. She resisted the urge to look back as she heard Legolas call her name quietly. She was just inches from him but now a solid barrier separated them.
Pushing all her emotions to the back of her mind, she quickly scaled the slight incline and then dropped down into the crack, disappearing from her friends' sight. She landed neatly on a small platform that made the beginning of the ridge. Looking down she found herself balanced above a deep dark oblivion and she quickly looked ahead, not wanting to think about what awaited her at the bottom if she fell. She could see that the ridge became very narrow; she would be on her tiptoes and hanging onto holes in the rock face. Swallowing back bile she began to pull herself along, using her elvish senses to help her keep her balance.
The route seemed to go on forever. As she got nearer and nearer Isengard she could hear the rumble of the fires in the ground beneath her and the raucous voices of many orcs above her. She could not see how far she was away from her destination; all she could do was keep on going. The air grew hotter and she found herself sweating both from the heat and from increasing fear. She found it increasingly harder to take a deep breath to calm her for the air was filled with fumes from the fire.
Finally she came to a platform like the one she had stepped down onto at the start. It could have been many hours or just a few minutes that she had spent pulling herself along, she could not tell, but her fingers and toes were aching from hanging on so tightly. She raised herself above the ground level ever so slowly and peered over. She was relieved to see that she was past the hoards of beasts and there was a clear path to the entrance. Looking back the way she had come she could not see Gandalf or Legolas, but knew they would be getting ready. How they would survive she had no idea, but she completely trusted Gandalf's assurance.
She easily pulled herself up onto the rock floor and scanned her surroundings quickly before making a dash for the entrance. He feet were completely silent and she safely made the cover of the craggy rocks that surrounded the tower. She took cover and then looked over to see that she had come this far without being noticed. But then this bit was easy compared to what awaited her in the tower. She scaled the steps and was suddenly inside the dark cold interior of Isengard.
Her heart was now beating so fast that she had to pause to calm it for a moment. As she crouched in the shadows, she used the time to get used to her surroundings. She remembered this place too well; the horrors that filled its interior and the sounds that penetrated the skull. At this moment there was no sound other than the flutter of a bird's wings somewhere up above, caught in the rafters but the silence was enough to make her shiver with fear. The quicker you do this the sooner it will be over, she told herself, before scanning one last time and then running up the stairs, her feet hardly touching the cold stone.
Yet more silence greeted her at the top of the first floor and she paused to take out her dagger. She left one of the halves in her boot, just in case she was caught and her blade was taken from her. She felt only slightly safer with her faithful weapon in her hand and she stepped forward round the corner looking more confident than she actually felt. She was greeted with a sight that brought back terrible memories. She had been expecting it but had not been ready to face it. The door to the staircase that led down into the dungeons stood in front of her; a thick wooden door strengthened by iron hinges and locks that were drawn closed. This was surely where her mother and sister were but she could not get them out; it would be pointless for they would never get past the barrier. Images flashed through her mind of the terrors she had seen and felt it there; there was still the reminder of it in the form of a long thin scar across the bottom of her back. Such pain and torture she had endured before she had finally given in to do Saruman's wishes. She could still feel and hear the pain that escaped her. Now she was back for revenge.
She drew her eyes away from the door of terrors and continued round the corridor that seemed to slope upwards slightly. She was making for the top level of the tower.
Suddenly there was a sound behind her and she turned to see that two dark haired men had managed to creep up on her without her hearing, even with her elven ears. Her eyes widened when she saw them; she had never seen human men in Saruman's power before. But then she realised these were men or Mordor; Sauron's men. Saruman must have taken command of them when Sauron was destroyed. Their eyes were as dark as their hair and their skin was ruff and blemished with a scar or two. Elimay thought that they must have been handsome men before evil had taken them over. In their hands were clasped long swords, poised ready to attack.
As they leapt, Elimay jumped into the air and kicked them back, giving her enough time to get her breath back from the shock. How were these men as quiet as elves? She swept out her blade and cut it outwards, so that the sharp elven steel connected with the flesh of the first man. He fell back into his companion and then to the floor, unable to get up for the extent of the wound. The second man came towards her and her blade clashed with his sword. The man was strong and almost knocked the dagger out of her right hand, but she spun it into the air, catching it again so that she had it in a better hold. She flipped into the air over the man and ran towards the doorway to the stairs but two more men greeted her. The tower had never been this well occupied when she was here; but then it was a while since she had entered Isengard. She panicked for a second and then kicked backwards, as she heard an approach behind. There was a grunt of pain but she did not stop to look. She charged through the two men, as they blocked her way to the upper levels. They seemed confused at why she wasn't making for the exit, but still their attack was heated.
An attack from one knocked the blade from her hand this time and when she dived to get it, she was kicked onto her front. Her arms were pulled painfully behind her back and she was dragged up onto her feet again. She tried to hide her feelings of dread but they crept up on her as she realised she wouldn't be able to get out of this one no matter how much she struggled. One of the men picked her blade off the floor and put it into his belt. Seeing the look she was giving the dagger, he grinned at her nastily and then motioned for the men to take their captive to the master.
She felt the air change slightly as Gandalf closed his eyes and spoke ancient words that almost rippled the air. She did not know what she was expecting; a flash of light or a crash of thunder, but suddenly the wizard pushed her and she fell through something that felt cold and clingy like water. There was a quiet slurping sound as the gateway closed behind her and she was through. She resisted the urge to look back as she heard Legolas call her name quietly. She was just inches from him but now a solid barrier separated them.
Pushing all her emotions to the back of her mind, she quickly scaled the slight incline and then dropped down into the crack, disappearing from her friends' sight. She landed neatly on a small platform that made the beginning of the ridge. Looking down she found herself balanced above a deep dark oblivion and she quickly looked ahead, not wanting to think about what awaited her at the bottom if she fell. She could see that the ridge became very narrow; she would be on her tiptoes and hanging onto holes in the rock face. Swallowing back bile she began to pull herself along, using her elvish senses to help her keep her balance.
The route seemed to go on forever. As she got nearer and nearer Isengard she could hear the rumble of the fires in the ground beneath her and the raucous voices of many orcs above her. She could not see how far she was away from her destination; all she could do was keep on going. The air grew hotter and she found herself sweating both from the heat and from increasing fear. She found it increasingly harder to take a deep breath to calm her for the air was filled with fumes from the fire.
Finally she came to a platform like the one she had stepped down onto at the start. It could have been many hours or just a few minutes that she had spent pulling herself along, she could not tell, but her fingers and toes were aching from hanging on so tightly. She raised herself above the ground level ever so slowly and peered over. She was relieved to see that she was past the hoards of beasts and there was a clear path to the entrance. Looking back the way she had come she could not see Gandalf or Legolas, but knew they would be getting ready. How they would survive she had no idea, but she completely trusted Gandalf's assurance.
She easily pulled herself up onto the rock floor and scanned her surroundings quickly before making a dash for the entrance. He feet were completely silent and she safely made the cover of the craggy rocks that surrounded the tower. She took cover and then looked over to see that she had come this far without being noticed. But then this bit was easy compared to what awaited her in the tower. She scaled the steps and was suddenly inside the dark cold interior of Isengard.
Her heart was now beating so fast that she had to pause to calm it for a moment. As she crouched in the shadows, she used the time to get used to her surroundings. She remembered this place too well; the horrors that filled its interior and the sounds that penetrated the skull. At this moment there was no sound other than the flutter of a bird's wings somewhere up above, caught in the rafters but the silence was enough to make her shiver with fear. The quicker you do this the sooner it will be over, she told herself, before scanning one last time and then running up the stairs, her feet hardly touching the cold stone.
Yet more silence greeted her at the top of the first floor and she paused to take out her dagger. She left one of the halves in her boot, just in case she was caught and her blade was taken from her. She felt only slightly safer with her faithful weapon in her hand and she stepped forward round the corner looking more confident than she actually felt. She was greeted with a sight that brought back terrible memories. She had been expecting it but had not been ready to face it. The door to the staircase that led down into the dungeons stood in front of her; a thick wooden door strengthened by iron hinges and locks that were drawn closed. This was surely where her mother and sister were but she could not get them out; it would be pointless for they would never get past the barrier. Images flashed through her mind of the terrors she had seen and felt it there; there was still the reminder of it in the form of a long thin scar across the bottom of her back. Such pain and torture she had endured before she had finally given in to do Saruman's wishes. She could still feel and hear the pain that escaped her. Now she was back for revenge.
She drew her eyes away from the door of terrors and continued round the corridor that seemed to slope upwards slightly. She was making for the top level of the tower.
Suddenly there was a sound behind her and she turned to see that two dark haired men had managed to creep up on her without her hearing, even with her elven ears. Her eyes widened when she saw them; she had never seen human men in Saruman's power before. But then she realised these were men or Mordor; Sauron's men. Saruman must have taken command of them when Sauron was destroyed. Their eyes were as dark as their hair and their skin was ruff and blemished with a scar or two. Elimay thought that they must have been handsome men before evil had taken them over. In their hands were clasped long swords, poised ready to attack.
As they leapt, Elimay jumped into the air and kicked them back, giving her enough time to get her breath back from the shock. How were these men as quiet as elves? She swept out her blade and cut it outwards, so that the sharp elven steel connected with the flesh of the first man. He fell back into his companion and then to the floor, unable to get up for the extent of the wound. The second man came towards her and her blade clashed with his sword. The man was strong and almost knocked the dagger out of her right hand, but she spun it into the air, catching it again so that she had it in a better hold. She flipped into the air over the man and ran towards the doorway to the stairs but two more men greeted her. The tower had never been this well occupied when she was here; but then it was a while since she had entered Isengard. She panicked for a second and then kicked backwards, as she heard an approach behind. There was a grunt of pain but she did not stop to look. She charged through the two men, as they blocked her way to the upper levels. They seemed confused at why she wasn't making for the exit, but still their attack was heated.
An attack from one knocked the blade from her hand this time and when she dived to get it, she was kicked onto her front. Her arms were pulled painfully behind her back and she was dragged up onto her feet again. She tried to hide her feelings of dread but they crept up on her as she realised she wouldn't be able to get out of this one no matter how much she struggled. One of the men picked her blade off the floor and put it into his belt. Seeing the look she was giving the dagger, he grinned at her nastily and then motioned for the men to take their captive to the master.