Chapter 11
In her rage many of Aufstand's early blows were too heavy-handed and flew over Legolas head or too far wide, not threatening but still as equally dangerous.
Stepping and dodging it soon became apparent when her swings became controlled; her aggression became tunnelled and focused.
"You fool," she hissed, her orc sword clashing upon the elven steel. "You think you can beat me?" she continued, hammering her blows time and time again sending jarring waves through their hands and up their arms and both fighters fought against their natural instincts to hold onto their weapons.
"Not going to ask why this time?" Aufstand pressed adjusting her weight prior to her next attack.
"There is no point," Legolas replied paring her and straining against his stinging hands. "There is nothing you can do to save yourself from your crimes"
She clenched her jaw tightly and suddenly leapt into the air and spun. The move caught Legolas by surprise, quickly he dived rolling upon his shoulder and snatched up an orc helmet. Spilt second later her sword punctured the metal.
Instantly she began to battle to free her blade but Legolas kept a firm grip on the orc armour that had saved his life. Frustrated and disappointed Aufstand did the only thing she could do: she kicked him hard in the head.
Immediately she pulled her blade free of his grip, but could not free it of its heavy end. Instead she swooped and picked up another.
Legolas rolled in the dust and for the first time suddenly noticed the ring of orcs around them, watching and laughing. He shivered involuntary – if he lived through this battle there would be little chance of him fighting onwards. Staggering to his feet, disorientated from her savage kick he forced his eyes to focus and he asked himself panicky: Where is Sam?
A rough hand pushed him unsteadily forward and into Aufstand's waiting arms. Out of reflex he managed to twist his body and raise his blade just enough to save himself before another hand pushed him back into the battle.
The orcs began to jeer and laugh, but the sounds became distorted in Legolas' ears as his body felt tired, awkwardly heavily and sluggish, his strength failing slipping away like water through cupped hands.
Again he was just able to defend himself as his feet staggered him into danger. Panting heavily he bought his feet under control and wearily raised his sword before she was upon him once more. Driven by madness and intense angry her blows fell furiously fast and accurate, and there was nothing Legolas could do.
Twisting her wrist her sword tip sliced a deep cut into his sword arm and another to his left leg, he gasped out loud and fell to his knees only then did she finally stepped back to survey her enemy.
"An arm for an arm" she muttered watching Legolas numbly swap his sword into his other hand, blood already wetted its leather covered hilt. Any other enemy at this point would have started to beg for mercy, but Aufstand knew this would never be the case. Legolas had been bought up to never accept defeat, no matter what the situation. He was the son of Kings, strong, brave, determined and unwilling to admit defeat. He was the type of character who would somehow surprise you even when he appeared defeated and broken.
She watched him closely slowly raise himself from the ground, hurt, broken, and betrayed. He would never forgive her for what she had done; there was no mistake about that.
"No tricks left under your sleeve, you Highness?" she sneered lowering herself to his eye line but keeping well out of his reach. "I expected so much more from you, here to save your friend and the rest of Middle-Earth. But it seems you are not up to it"
The orcs laughed around them.
Legolas did not reply but continued to raise himself, struggling to make his shaking legs take his weight.
"Here you are wasting my time, standing in my way, doing your best to help your friends – but it makes no matter. I can run up that mountain faster then Aragorn can walk. It will be easy to end his journey so close to his goal" she continued enjoying watching him strive. "How does it feel to have work for something? All your life you have lived in luxury while I and everyone else had to struggle year in and year out just to survive – and you! You wanted us to bend to your every command!" she snapped, "It disgusts me!"
She moved closer staring into his eyes: "But it won't be that way for much longer," she whispered "Soon it will all be mine"
"You believe it will as you dream?" Legolas said in a low tone, "You really think it will be so? The Ring will never allow you to have a peaceful life; it will turn you further into the monster you have already become, twisted and evil"
Her face changed quickly and she shot her hands forward, gripping Legolas' collar and raised him to his feet: "You are wrong" she whispered dangerously, "Very wrong, the Ring will not destroy me but make me powerful above all. No one will be able to stop me, not even all the forces of this and the next World put together could stop me."
"But I can" he smiled weakly.
"You?" she laughed, "You are in no position to say such –"
She began to choke, his hands around her throat, her sword upon the ground. Frightened she released her grip upon his shirt and he slipped downward several inches onto his feet, his grip still firm. Her hands found their way to his throat but already she could feel his advantage and darkness began to filter into her vision. Panicking she kicked and kneed him within her reach but it did nothing to help her.
How could he do this so coldly and so calmly? she thought.
In a last attempt she placed a foot upon his abdomen followed by the other, and using his grip as a help she began to walk up his chest and sharply stamped upon his throat.
At last his grip fell and they both fell, gasping and choking. Surprisingly she was the first to recover and instantly her hands fell up her throwing knives at her waist, but Legolas refused to be pinned down and quickly rose to his feet his hands clutching his knives also.
Like wild male animals they began to circle one another, their eyes locked and their knives glittering.
The loose stones slipped beneath his wearily feet as he crawled, degrading himself up the mountain. Beads of sweat slipped down his cheeks and the sounds of battle below had ceased. He dare not turn to look back, fearing what he may see. Again he returned his watering eyes to the doorway set into the rocks just a few yards in front of him. Soon it would be all over, he thought to himself, it will be done and finished at last.
Hand of over hand he pulled himself onwards and upwards, the Ring weighing him down and hissing loudly, calling to him, begging him to listen. He did not listen to its evil scheming lies; instead his eyes, body, mind and soul were firmly fixed on the doorway and what lay beyond.
From above a showering of dust fell upon his curls and Sam dug deeper, pulling himself upwards in purist. His friend was nearly there physically but how far away was Aragorn from victory in reality? Sam knew how the fast the Ring could change you, turn you. He had experienced the longing-ness the Ring gave as soon as it left the comfort of your hand, it was treacherous and deadly. Always filling your mind with nothing other then itself.
Adrenaline was probably the only thing that was keeping Legolas going as using all his grace and speed he tested her reaction as she did his. At arms length they quickly faced their knives towards one another. He had braved the intense pain in his right arm to hold both his knives over her one. This gave him the upper advantage he wished to keep.
Years of countless experience the two could predict each others moves just by the slight adjustment to their body positioning. Their blades were sharp nicking their skin but without feeling any pain. At the back of Legolas' mind Aragorn and Sam stood firmly in view, constantly reminding him where he was needed. His hatred of Aufstand was not personal anymore, it was for all those she had mutated and ruined. And now was the time to put it all to rest.
Using the advantage of two blades to one Legolas darted forward, thrusting his knife towards her chest, only to be denied with the sharp twang of metal hitting metal. That was to be expected. He twisted quickly and bought him his second blade to her throat half wondering what she would do with her only blade locked with his own. Again he was denied but only with the though leather of her gauntlets. Annoyed his eyes lingered on the thick leather – suddenly it looked very familiar.
He twisted away and saw she was smiling, her lips parting in a light chuckle. "You are a delight to watch, your Highness" she laughed, "Always so full of dire attempts and expression.
"You recognize these I assume?" she raised her bladeless arm
She didn't need to tell him he knew who's they were. They were Henduil's the brother of Erbschaft a dear friend to him. The death of his company had been hard to bear. The long hours spent wondering the empty land of Mordor were held in silence as remembered those who were lost and prayed for them to find peace in death.
The memory awaked new pain, frustration and anger. He could feel it build and bubble beneath his skin, bursting to be released – and there in front of him was the one responsible to their deaths. Shifting his grip upon his knives he raised his wearily head and harnessed his anger into new energy and violence.
Steel scrapped steel and in their battle sparks flew. The orcs took tentative steps backwards, unsure what would happen.
Fighting back with vigorous and various tactics Aufstand was quickly running out of cards left to play – expect one. Turning here and there she back to lead him and slowly pushed him into the circle of orcs expected them to beat him on her behalf.
He allowed her to do so and so it was clear why.
The orcs were not attacking him – but her!
Stray punches and knives knocked, pitched and cut her flesh. Screaming in fear and panic she neglected her battle with Legolas and turned to the orcs, shouting in Black Speech.
The hoard took no heed to her words, but increased their scrapple to beat her and end her rule over them.
Before her brown head disappeared under their fists and feet Legolas stood back and watched, his voice carrying over the noise: "See what greed has done to you. I had no pity of Cassione – I have none for you"
Still screaming he turned away at last and headed up the mountain.
A smoke and flame filled cavern laid beyond the doorway into the mountain. Staggering inside Aragorn willed his feet to carry him just enough for him to do his task and not in any other direction. Only a narrow bridge lead him to the heart of the mountain, one slip and everything would be over including his life. Though strangely the idea of death seemed peaceful and tempting…
Upon the end of the rock bridge he stopped, his heart hammering in his chest. And slowly he drew the Ring and near broken chain from over his head, his hands were slow in acted, they wanted to hold onto its comforting warmth just a little longer.
The Ring slipped agonizingly slowly through his fingers, the chain the only thing keeping it from falling in the abyss below. The suddenly change in weight nearly made him drop it, but his fingers refused. The minuets stretched by as he stood over the edge, just a easy movement left to complete then it would be over. Why then was it so hard to do it? His fingers just stubbornly refused to let go. He stared at the golden band, watching the flames dance across it with fascination, desire and awe.
How could you destroy such a beautiful object? A voice inside his head said. It would be a shame to do such a thing to such a pretty ring.
No! I must let it go… It must end, stop, cease. I must do this.
He was torn into two.
Let it go? Let it fall into the fire? Don't be a fool!
It must, it has to be done.
Why? It's your, your own, your Precious.
No, I will never embrace it. The Ring has bought too much death and destruction to the world.
You will not embrace me? That is too late – you already have? Can't you see it? You draw your strength from me – it was my power that gave you the strength to pull yourself up this mountain.
No, I did this myself – I don't believe you.
Whither you do or not there is no denying what I can do for you.
You cannot do anything for me, you can only destroy all that is.
Wield me to your needs and desires. You are in control of what will come.
Only Sauron has that power.
How would you know if you will not listen to me?
No! Be-gone I will never –
Aragorn stop denying yourself the thing you know what is right. I am yours, your Pernicious.
No! You are – you are…
I am yours.
You are my…
Precious.
You are my Precious.
Timidly a small voice called to him from behind: "Aragorn?" it whispered, "It's alright. I understand it's hard, but think about what will happen. Think about those who are depending upon you"
Aragorn twitched his head slightly and saw Sam standing behind him, his face pale and his brow damp with sweat.
He felt his tongue move but he wasn't controlling it: "Silence! You know nothing, leave me in peace halfling!" he snapped.
"Just open your hand, you can do it" Sam said gently ignoring Aragorn's foul tongue.
A growl sprung from the man's throat and in one swift movement his drew back his arm, slipped the Ring into his pocket, stepped away from the edge and faced Sam.
Still the hobbit was not fazed: "I know you left us and went off on your own. I know are stronger then this. It's alright to be afraid or scared, everyone is sometimes"
"I am not afraid" Aragorn said coldly, clearly not himself as he walked closer, "It is you who should be afraid" he stopped a foot away from Sam, looking down upon his with menacing look in his eyes. "You should be afraid if me"
His fist flew out of nowhere throwing Sam into the air and against the floor heavily. Disorientated he raised his head and through blearily eyes he could see another in Aragorn's flaming eyes. He could see Frodo starting at him. Weakly he called to him: "Frodo, help me Frodo"
Instead Aragorn's shadow fell over him.
The sulphuric air of the mountainside tasted bitter in Legolas' mouth as he breathed in deep breaths to push himself upwards. Beneath his sore and bloody feet within his torn this elven shoes the stones were again restless and frightened. He quickened his pace, his mouth dry with anticipation of what may greet him at its peak. Several times he found himself unable to climb up his chosen line and had to turn back, muttering and cursing. His long legs bent and stretched endlessly. The mountain seemed alive beneath him. What did it mean? Had something happened within its core? He didn't even know if it was safe from him to be here, treading the rock face that might become the path of volcanic liquid fire. But still he ran on, dreading what may lie ahead.
Sam wanted to fight back, to defend himself but Aragorn was still his friend and Sam refused to spill his blood despite his madness. But a swift hand saved him, pulling him out of danger. His knees would not hold him as his rescuer tried to make him stand. Instead he lay in pile upon the floor looking on helplessly between the faces of Aragorn and Legolas, fearing what would come.
"Aragorn," Legolas said gently. "Let's finish this" his eyes flickered to the dangerous expression upon his friends face and trod carefully. "Let's finish this together" he said stretching to place a hand upon Aragorn's shoulder.
But the man pulled away: "It is finished," he said quietly his hand slipping into his pocket and drawing out the Ring. "The Ring is mine" he pulled on the weak chain snapping it cleanly and threw it to one side, over into the flames below.
Calmly Legolas spoke on: "Think about this –"
"Oh I have thought of this," Aragorn cut across. "A lot more then you have I'd imagine." He began to turn the Ring over with his fingers, his eyes fixed upon it.
"But you –"
"I can do what I want, just watch me"
He thrust his finger through the Ring and vanished.
Legolas straightened in surprise, behind him Sam gasped.
Shaking himself Legolas quickly composed himself, his eyes watching the ground flatten with the weight of Aragorn's booted feet.
He was fleeing the cavern, away from salvation and freedom for his people.
Legolas just couldn't let that happen, he had to stop him.
Darting forward into a quick run Legolas leaped into the air and knocked into an invisible wall or so it appeared. Though Legolas could not see him he knew he had landed upon his maddened friend and kept his grip on what ever part of him he could touch.
It soon became clear which limb he had a hold of as it began to thrash around trying to throw him off, the struggled continued in strength as the other leg began to beat him, joined by both arms. Legolas did his best to avoid the flying arms and legs though he could not see them, and threw his own into the area where Aragorn's body should have been. He could feel them impacted upon cloths and skin not the hard ground it appeared he was attacking.
From Sam's point of view the battle between the two looked very strange indeed; he could only guess what was happening as Legolas rolled about looking alone and ill recoiling from invisible forces. But it was clear the blood that splattered the ground was real.
Legolas was wrestling with something, battling to keep his grip on it and Sam squinted attempting to understand. Then suddenly Aragorn appeared solid once more.
Legolas had pulled the Ring off from Aragorn's finger!
The man quickly leaped to his feet as angry as Gollum appeared when he had reached the end of his tether and tackled Legolas around the middle bringing them both onto the ground. They wrestled and under the tangle of cloaks and limbs Sam could see little until abruptly the fighting stopped. He strained to see that had happened, fear creeping into his mind – had one of them fallen off the edge?
No, they were both there their bodies heaving with the effort of breathing, Aragorn's weight weighing down upon Legolas increasing his battle to live. Andúril pressed against his throat.
A strange hollow beating noise broke the tension in the air between them, their eyes shifted towards the source of the sound.
Aufstand stood applauding them from the doorway.
Sam tried to stand to challenge her as she steeped closer but she nudged him aside, her eyes not leaving Aragorn and Legolas the Ring still in Aragorn's hand.
"Go on Elessar" she gently pressed. "All it takes is a little more pressure and it will all be over. No one else will stand in the way of holding onto your prize."
From beneath him, sword pressed against his throat Legolas watched Aragorn closely, ignoring the pain upon his neck as the sharp edge nicked his skin.
The eyes are the window to the soul, many say and here Legolas could see his friends soul was torn in two. The power of the Ring and Aufstand on one side, firing his madness, and on the other was the passion and love for his friends, family and Kingdom.
The Ring was challenging and testing everything about him, attempting to finally undo him.
His eyes told the story of his decent into madness, his being devoured and lost never to return.
Legolas' breath became laboured; his airway being crushed by the hand of his thought was his friend.
"Aragorn, don't listen to her she's lying" Sam cried unable to allow his friends to kill another. "Even if you do all she says she only take the Ring from you when you can no longer have the strength to fight anymore"
Again Legolas could see the toil Aragorn's soul was going through deciding what he should do. Strangely the pressure began to lessen upon his throat.
"The halfling know nothing of power and leadership. Together we can rule as one, sharing everything equally" Aufstand pressed sounding more desperate.
The crazed look in Aragorn's eyes flamed again, adding pressure onto his blade.
"She will never share power. If she did Cassione would be here now!" Sam shouted trying his hardest to stand.
"Where we will go there will be no more irritating foes. Together we will rid the world of them" Aufstand continued to maintain her hold upon Aragorn's mind.
"Instead she allowed her own flesh and blood to die, alone and she showed no remorse. Do you think she will treat you any better?"
Sam's words were having an affect upon the hold upon Aragorn's body and soul. The King was fighting back. Desperate to hold onto her final card Aufstand quickly dealt a savage blow at Sam to silence him. Sam raised his arms to block her strong legs, but her feet were accurate. Despite Sam's arms she managed to turn him slightly and brutally hammered him upon the head where his short arms could not protect. Satisfied he was finally silenced she returned to reclaim her slipping hold upon the King of Gondor's brave heart and soul:
"The possibilities are endless, the open plains, the mountains, the forests and villages will be ours and together we will hunt out those who rebel against us, like a hunter chasing deer." She whispered stepping closer to watch the impact of her sentence.
Blood was blooming upon Legolas' throat.
The level of screaming was slowly decreasing as the ground began to lay cluttered with still figures of the company of the West. The Nightmares continued their relentless attacks upon their minds ending finally when their victim had lost their minds or in their insanity taken their own lives. Erbschaft stepped over a dead Gondorian solider, his throat cut by his own blade. Through the sheets of rain and flickering Nightmares Erbschaft searched for his wife Nymane eying up the fallen with dread. Lightening flashed through the sky and lit his path, and there bathed in the eerie light of the storm stood his wife transfixed and horror struck. He ran, slipping in the mud to her side, his voice rising in his throat. He arched his sword and cut down the Nightmare clinging onto her mind, but it did not retreat. Again he swept his blade through the shadowy creature. Still it did not move not release her from its grip. She was pale, her eyes wide and her body shaking. He could only guess what she was seeing; it made his heart ache to watch her. Running out of ideas he pulled free his bow and loosed several arrows into the Nightmare, but still did it not release its hold. Finally at a lose he reached for her pale and sweating hand and pulled her away, her body staggered several paces before falling, laying still upon the ground.
Erbschaft blanched – was she dead? He feared. Weakly he called her name but it died upon his lips as the Nightmare now relived of it's pray set its cold hands upon his wearily and worried mind forcing him to relate his fears and scream with the many around him.
Faramir hauled Elrohir, son of Elrond to his feet and gave back to him his sword. The Steward looked around himself and death greeted his eyes. He remembered Gandalf saying the Nightmares were connected to the Ring and his heart sank. What had happened to Aragorn? Had he failed in his task and they were doomed to die? His body ached and his mind was exhausted after the onslaught of the Nightmares upon it. Even the once unstoppable power of the elves was fading. How much longer must they endure this torture?
The horrid sights faded from view and the cold wet earth filled his nostrils and noises of battle assaulted his ears before Erbschaft could understand what had happened. Suddenly he remembered Nymane the last thing he saw was her laying still upon the ground and still as a corpse. He knelt and saw the ground where she once lay vacant of her body. He turned looking for her but saw only the commotion of battle, hearing only the screaming of those still enslaved by the Nightmares.
A sudden sword flashed before eyes and he felt the warmth of his spilt blood wet his cheek. Instantly he jumped to his feet, hands upon his sword which somehow he had not lost. His jaw dropped at the one who held the blade still stained with his blood.
Nymane's face was vacant and pale; her eyes had lost all their colour and once flaming love. The Nightmares had broken her mind and he had freed her from taking her own life only to allow her to take the lives of others he noticed the dead lying scattered nearby.
He stared unseeing towards her. He loved her too damn much to kill her, but he knew she wouldn't hesitate to kill him. If only he could save her, return her to the once beautiful and radiant elf she was before.
She steeped forward and drew her sword across his body rattling his armour; she bought her blade back repeating the movement. The Nightmares had turned her into an empty shell of her former self unable to do anything, unable to encage in a battle with the wit of a fighter. Erbschaft easily caught her blade with his own and sharply pulled it from her grip, pulling her closer to him. He wrapped his arms around her, pinning her arms to her side and with tears in his eyes he whispered to her: "Hush, my love it's only me. Your husband, remember?" she began to struggle underneath him. "It's me Erbschaft, can't you remember?" she became still, "We have a small boy surely you can remember Pal. He is the most beautiful little boy you'd ever seen. He has you grey eyes, my dark hair, your smile and my father's nose. Do you not remember him? Can you not see his smiling face or hear his laughter?" he asked feeling her deflate beneath him at last, her fiery madness quenched.
He relaxed his grip and looked into her pale face, etched with the lines of longing-ness and pain and he saw tears in her eyes.
"Do not weep of him, it will be alright, you'll see" he said gently cupping her head in his hands. She stepped back and shook her head her mouth opening but no sound came out.
Erbschaft watched her sadly step away he longed to help, to save, to free her but knew he did not have the power nor would Gandalf nor any living or dead person of time gone by. There was nothing that could be done.
Wrapped up in his pity for her he failed to see the glitter of a knife that stole her life away. He caught her as she fell, catching her finally words of forgiveness, her sanity briefly returned: "I'm sorry" she breathed, "But I will always love you" her body juddered before falling still, her breast blooming with blood.
In the rain under the blanket of unless screams no one heard him weep or hear his heart breaking in two.
Listen to her words, everything she says is truth.
No they are all lies. She only wants to help herself.
"Embrace my offer, all I ask of you is to listen to my words" Aufstand cooed.
Listen to her!
No – I… won't I don't to –
"Let us be rid of those who stand against us"
Add more pressure to your blade. Spill the blood of enemies.
The battle of his control was tearing him to shreds. He needed release from the pressure; the Ring grew in his hand as a response. It was to all too easy.
The world around him changed. Before Legolas looked strangely composed and calm despite death only being inches away, he still calm and ready to accept death but he looked different. His outline was blurred, his body was dull and seemed empty of life but his eyes burned brightly. Even his spilt blood shone with the same ferocity of his eyes. Aragorn turned away and stared at Aufstand, a piece of a jigsaw finally fitting into place.
She was pale, her face grotesquely twisted, her long hair hanging rank framing her face, and faint crown sitting proudly upon her head.
She was the tenth figure he had seen walking with the Nazgúl in his vision when he fist put on the Ring. It was Legolas or a shadow of Elrond he had seen but Aufstand.
Then if it was her he knew all along he would not have left the comfort and protection of Sam and Legolas, but the Ring had a way of putting friends against friends making the bearer paranoid.
Slowly he removed his sword from his friend's throat and removed the Ring from his finger, bringing himself back onto his quest.
Above him Aufstand screamed and launched herself upon him rolling away from Legolas side and closer to the edge where below the fires smouldered awaiting them.