Author's note: Man, what's wrong with me? Updating so soon? Yesterday was my birthday, and I figured I'd give everyone something. I hope everyone has had a Happy New Year so far. I'm glad that everyone liked the Lorien interlude I put in last chapter. I like Haldir, and thought about having them have had a relationship in the past, but I thought I'd keep it like it was. Hope you all enjoy this chapter!
Disclaimer: I haven't done this in awhile. I DON'T OWN LOTR!!! Just my own characters.
Rhovanion's Child by Shelly
CHAPTER TEN
Rhiannon was silent as she rode up through the dark streets of Minas Tirith behind Boromir, seeing the houses that lined the sides, some of them dark, some of them flickering with suffused candlelight. As many times as she has looked upon the city from afar, never had she been behind its gates until now, and there were still yet more to pass through, seven in total that were set in a zigzag pattern.
She had no time to marvel at the city's wonders since there was an approaching danger that threatened them all, and time would make all the difference in whether they survived or not. She only hoped they weren't too late.
Finally they arrived at the tower, and now she did stop and stare at it in amazement as the moonlight turned it into a glimmering spire of pure silver, a sight that was not lost on her. She felt a hand on hers, and she turned her gaze from the tower to the man at her side, realizing that he was waiting for her to dismount so that the horses could be led away into the stables.
Now that she saw him a little clearer from the torches that lined the path into the tower, she saw a noble soldier of Gondor, a man who no doubt had risked his life for his country many times. He was handsome, she had to grant him that, him with his blue eyes and blonde-brown hair, strong jaw and determined gaze. But she sensed beneath that a courage and strength that commanded the loyalty of his men, and she realized that she wanted to see this man put to the test, to see how he fared in the heat of battle.
Somehow she knew he wouldn't disappoint her.
Ignoring his proffered hand, she dismounted gracefully and looked up to see him gazing down at her with a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. He was somewhat taller than her, but not by much since she could still stare him down. "I don't see what is so amusing, Captain," she said stiffly.
This brought forth a soft chuckle from him. "You have spirit, my lady. We should have need of that in battle this night. Forgive me, I never asked your name."
She sighed before answering, wondering if she should give him her true name. "It is Elena, my lord," she replied, deciding to use a small part of her elvish name.
"Elena," he repeated, seeing her beauty in the flickering firelight and somehow feeling strangely intrigued by her. "A beautiful name for a beautiful lady. We shall go in and speak with my father now." He turned and strode towards the doors to the tower, pushing them open to see the Steward of Gondor already busy at work formulating a strategy. He never knew how, but somehow his father always knew of something before it happened, and he was right to assume that this had been no different.
Denethor glanced up to see who had come, his gaze narrowing on his favorite son. "I see you have come, my son. Ready to fight the battle against our enemies?"
"As always, my lord," Boromir replied evenly.
"And what of your guest? Will she fight, too?" he asked, turning his gaze to her. Immediately he knew she would fight after seeing the manner of her dress and the solid strength in her eyes. Here was no delicate maiden that sought pleasure in fine dresses and idle gossip, but a warrior trained in battle, forged by the sword she grasped lightly at the hilt by her side.
She saw his shrewd scrutiny of her and straightened her posture unconsciously, meeting him eye to eye as her way of letting him know she wasn't intimidated by him. She had been foolish to worry about his reaction to her; he was just a man and made of flesh and blood just like any other. She had faced worse than him and lived to tell the tale, but he was still Lord of the City and commanded the respect due to him and his station.
She bowed to him slightly. "I will, Lord Steward, if you command it. My sword is ready to defend Gondor as am I."
He silently approved of her reply. "You would ride to battle at the front alongside my sons? Fight beside them and die beside them if need be?"
She turned her eyes to see a younger version of the Captain standing beside the Steward, and she guessed that this was his other son. Where Boromir seemed to have the unquestioning loyalty of a soldier of Gondor, she sensed differently with his brother. No doubt he fought as well in battle as his brother, and commanded the same loyalties as his brother, but there was an awareness in his eyes that he shared with his father. No doubt he knew of things other than the way of battle and death.
"I will fight beside them, and defend them from death," she answered. "Even if it means that of my own. That is my solemn vow to the Steward of Gondor."
Boromir had never known of any man, much less a woman, who would pledge their loyalty so freely and so sincerely. Now his interest was caught, and he wanted very much to be there fighting by her side as he didn't wish for such a warrior to die so soon before he got to know her.
Apparently the Steward was pleased by her pledge as he lifted his goblet of wine to her in salute before gulping it down swiftly. "Faramir, take her to the armory and see if there is any armor that she might wear."
"Forgive me, my lord, but there is no time," she replied. "The enemy would be at your very gates before then."
His eyes became as hard as steel. "You would do my bidding and defend my country? Then by all means don the appropriate gear for battle so that you may live a little longer. That is my final word." Then he turned back to his plans, beckoning Boromir to assist him as Faramir left to do his father's bidding.
"This is hopeless!" she exclaimed. "We'll never find anything that will fit me!"
Faramir glanced over at her with an amused eye. "I have to wonder, my lady, where your eagerness for battle comes from?"
She stood there looking at the rows of armor and swords that lined the wall. "Is it not the duty of a loyal soldier to fight for his country? To fight against an evil that threatens to destroy all that is good in this world?"
"You come from Gondor?" he asked her as he pulled down a chestplate to fit it to her, but it was too big, and he hung it back up.
"No, I do not," she replied. "But I feel a kinship here. Indeed it is my duty to protect all who are in danger. That is the promise of the rangers that roam the land."
He eased over to stand in front of her. "Yet, you have a noble bearing about you, my lady. Surely you are descended from nobility."
She gazed up at him, her insides shaking at his ability to see her for who she was. "I am just a ranger, my lord," she answered. "And I will fight as I have always fought. Without armor."
He inclined his head towards her slightly. "As you wish, Elena."
Soon they were on their way back towards the tower, both of them noticing that Boromir was readying his horse for battle so they did the same. Boromir stepped over to the stall where she was readying the horse she had borrowed, watching as she checked the straps to see if they were secure. "Didn't see anything to your liking in the armory, my lady?" he asked.
She gave the strap underneath a good tug. "Would you please stop saying that? You know my name so use it."
"Whatever you say, Elena," he replied mirthfully, earning a stern glare from her.
"Watch it, Captain, I may be starting to regret the vow that I made," she said with a small smile. "Perhaps I made it a little too hasty."
"Perhaps," he agreed. Then all trace of humor disappeared. "Speaking of which, we'd better move out. Gondor's forces await their Captain." And with that he left to mount his horse and waited for his brother and Rhiannon to catch up before heading out to the gates and the battle that awaited them.
They rode out from Minas Tirith at the head of a force of soldiers, soon reaching the towers that guarded the wall where she had first met Boromir before thundering into Osgiliath where the first of the enemy met them. The battle was fierce as orcs surged all around them and all they could do was hack and slash at them there were so many. She was true to her word as she stayed by the side of the brothers, and sometimes it seemed as if they were looking out for her as well. A fair number of the enemy fell underneath their swords, yet it seemed still more came pouring over the bridge that crossed the river.
"We must destroy the bridge!" she heard Boromir call out over the din of ringing swords and cries of death and victory. "We must keep them from crossing over too far!"
Some of the soldiers moved to do his bidding but stopped short as the strange riders she had seen suddenly appeared, looming over them like a nightmare and striking fear into the bravest of men's hearts. Their strange cry echoed throughout the night, a sound that no one ever wanted to hear again as it was the sound of death itself. But instead of joining in the battle, they wheeled to the north and disappeared into the blackness of the night.
With their passing, the fear released its hold on the soldiers, and the orcs began retreating as the army of Gondor pushed them back across the Anduin, Rhiannon at the front as she pursued the retreating forces, only to have them turn back on her. She fought against them as did the soldiers who were still alive, thinking of nothing else except the slash of her blade across an orcs throat or the thrust of it through its body.
She smelled the stench of orc blood on her but pressed on until she heard as if in the distance the sound of her name called. "Boromir," she breathed, turning just enough to see him waving towards her for her to come closer towards him. She nodded and saw out of the corner of her eye an orc charging towards her, but then she heard the sound of the bridge collapsing, the pieces splashing down into the water. Her attention was diverted just enough for the orc to slash down, an attack which she avoided, but then his blade came back up and slashed at her unprotected side. She felt the bite of the blade and cried out in pain as it felt like her entire side had burst into flame.
She attacked the orc, ignoring the pain, and brought her sword up to slice his head off his shoulders. Every breath she took cost her dearly, and she collapsed to her knees, unable to fight any longer as she felt the blood running down her side and leg. Then she felt hands pulling her up and urging her towards the bridge, right to the edge where she was pushed over and felt herself falling, falling into a darkness she knew she wouldn't wake from.
****************
Is she dead? Or isn't she? Boromir better save her!
Thanks for reading! C-ya!
Disclaimer: I haven't done this in awhile. I DON'T OWN LOTR!!! Just my own characters.
Rhovanion's Child by Shelly
CHAPTER TEN
Rhiannon was silent as she rode up through the dark streets of Minas Tirith behind Boromir, seeing the houses that lined the sides, some of them dark, some of them flickering with suffused candlelight. As many times as she has looked upon the city from afar, never had she been behind its gates until now, and there were still yet more to pass through, seven in total that were set in a zigzag pattern.
She had no time to marvel at the city's wonders since there was an approaching danger that threatened them all, and time would make all the difference in whether they survived or not. She only hoped they weren't too late.
Finally they arrived at the tower, and now she did stop and stare at it in amazement as the moonlight turned it into a glimmering spire of pure silver, a sight that was not lost on her. She felt a hand on hers, and she turned her gaze from the tower to the man at her side, realizing that he was waiting for her to dismount so that the horses could be led away into the stables.
Now that she saw him a little clearer from the torches that lined the path into the tower, she saw a noble soldier of Gondor, a man who no doubt had risked his life for his country many times. He was handsome, she had to grant him that, him with his blue eyes and blonde-brown hair, strong jaw and determined gaze. But she sensed beneath that a courage and strength that commanded the loyalty of his men, and she realized that she wanted to see this man put to the test, to see how he fared in the heat of battle.
Somehow she knew he wouldn't disappoint her.
Ignoring his proffered hand, she dismounted gracefully and looked up to see him gazing down at her with a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. He was somewhat taller than her, but not by much since she could still stare him down. "I don't see what is so amusing, Captain," she said stiffly.
This brought forth a soft chuckle from him. "You have spirit, my lady. We should have need of that in battle this night. Forgive me, I never asked your name."
She sighed before answering, wondering if she should give him her true name. "It is Elena, my lord," she replied, deciding to use a small part of her elvish name.
"Elena," he repeated, seeing her beauty in the flickering firelight and somehow feeling strangely intrigued by her. "A beautiful name for a beautiful lady. We shall go in and speak with my father now." He turned and strode towards the doors to the tower, pushing them open to see the Steward of Gondor already busy at work formulating a strategy. He never knew how, but somehow his father always knew of something before it happened, and he was right to assume that this had been no different.
Denethor glanced up to see who had come, his gaze narrowing on his favorite son. "I see you have come, my son. Ready to fight the battle against our enemies?"
"As always, my lord," Boromir replied evenly.
"And what of your guest? Will she fight, too?" he asked, turning his gaze to her. Immediately he knew she would fight after seeing the manner of her dress and the solid strength in her eyes. Here was no delicate maiden that sought pleasure in fine dresses and idle gossip, but a warrior trained in battle, forged by the sword she grasped lightly at the hilt by her side.
She saw his shrewd scrutiny of her and straightened her posture unconsciously, meeting him eye to eye as her way of letting him know she wasn't intimidated by him. She had been foolish to worry about his reaction to her; he was just a man and made of flesh and blood just like any other. She had faced worse than him and lived to tell the tale, but he was still Lord of the City and commanded the respect due to him and his station.
She bowed to him slightly. "I will, Lord Steward, if you command it. My sword is ready to defend Gondor as am I."
He silently approved of her reply. "You would ride to battle at the front alongside my sons? Fight beside them and die beside them if need be?"
She turned her eyes to see a younger version of the Captain standing beside the Steward, and she guessed that this was his other son. Where Boromir seemed to have the unquestioning loyalty of a soldier of Gondor, she sensed differently with his brother. No doubt he fought as well in battle as his brother, and commanded the same loyalties as his brother, but there was an awareness in his eyes that he shared with his father. No doubt he knew of things other than the way of battle and death.
"I will fight beside them, and defend them from death," she answered. "Even if it means that of my own. That is my solemn vow to the Steward of Gondor."
Boromir had never known of any man, much less a woman, who would pledge their loyalty so freely and so sincerely. Now his interest was caught, and he wanted very much to be there fighting by her side as he didn't wish for such a warrior to die so soon before he got to know her.
Apparently the Steward was pleased by her pledge as he lifted his goblet of wine to her in salute before gulping it down swiftly. "Faramir, take her to the armory and see if there is any armor that she might wear."
"Forgive me, my lord, but there is no time," she replied. "The enemy would be at your very gates before then."
His eyes became as hard as steel. "You would do my bidding and defend my country? Then by all means don the appropriate gear for battle so that you may live a little longer. That is my final word." Then he turned back to his plans, beckoning Boromir to assist him as Faramir left to do his father's bidding.
"This is hopeless!" she exclaimed. "We'll never find anything that will fit me!"
Faramir glanced over at her with an amused eye. "I have to wonder, my lady, where your eagerness for battle comes from?"
She stood there looking at the rows of armor and swords that lined the wall. "Is it not the duty of a loyal soldier to fight for his country? To fight against an evil that threatens to destroy all that is good in this world?"
"You come from Gondor?" he asked her as he pulled down a chestplate to fit it to her, but it was too big, and he hung it back up.
"No, I do not," she replied. "But I feel a kinship here. Indeed it is my duty to protect all who are in danger. That is the promise of the rangers that roam the land."
He eased over to stand in front of her. "Yet, you have a noble bearing about you, my lady. Surely you are descended from nobility."
She gazed up at him, her insides shaking at his ability to see her for who she was. "I am just a ranger, my lord," she answered. "And I will fight as I have always fought. Without armor."
He inclined his head towards her slightly. "As you wish, Elena."
Soon they were on their way back towards the tower, both of them noticing that Boromir was readying his horse for battle so they did the same. Boromir stepped over to the stall where she was readying the horse she had borrowed, watching as she checked the straps to see if they were secure. "Didn't see anything to your liking in the armory, my lady?" he asked.
She gave the strap underneath a good tug. "Would you please stop saying that? You know my name so use it."
"Whatever you say, Elena," he replied mirthfully, earning a stern glare from her.
"Watch it, Captain, I may be starting to regret the vow that I made," she said with a small smile. "Perhaps I made it a little too hasty."
"Perhaps," he agreed. Then all trace of humor disappeared. "Speaking of which, we'd better move out. Gondor's forces await their Captain." And with that he left to mount his horse and waited for his brother and Rhiannon to catch up before heading out to the gates and the battle that awaited them.
They rode out from Minas Tirith at the head of a force of soldiers, soon reaching the towers that guarded the wall where she had first met Boromir before thundering into Osgiliath where the first of the enemy met them. The battle was fierce as orcs surged all around them and all they could do was hack and slash at them there were so many. She was true to her word as she stayed by the side of the brothers, and sometimes it seemed as if they were looking out for her as well. A fair number of the enemy fell underneath their swords, yet it seemed still more came pouring over the bridge that crossed the river.
"We must destroy the bridge!" she heard Boromir call out over the din of ringing swords and cries of death and victory. "We must keep them from crossing over too far!"
Some of the soldiers moved to do his bidding but stopped short as the strange riders she had seen suddenly appeared, looming over them like a nightmare and striking fear into the bravest of men's hearts. Their strange cry echoed throughout the night, a sound that no one ever wanted to hear again as it was the sound of death itself. But instead of joining in the battle, they wheeled to the north and disappeared into the blackness of the night.
With their passing, the fear released its hold on the soldiers, and the orcs began retreating as the army of Gondor pushed them back across the Anduin, Rhiannon at the front as she pursued the retreating forces, only to have them turn back on her. She fought against them as did the soldiers who were still alive, thinking of nothing else except the slash of her blade across an orcs throat or the thrust of it through its body.
She smelled the stench of orc blood on her but pressed on until she heard as if in the distance the sound of her name called. "Boromir," she breathed, turning just enough to see him waving towards her for her to come closer towards him. She nodded and saw out of the corner of her eye an orc charging towards her, but then she heard the sound of the bridge collapsing, the pieces splashing down into the water. Her attention was diverted just enough for the orc to slash down, an attack which she avoided, but then his blade came back up and slashed at her unprotected side. She felt the bite of the blade and cried out in pain as it felt like her entire side had burst into flame.
She attacked the orc, ignoring the pain, and brought her sword up to slice his head off his shoulders. Every breath she took cost her dearly, and she collapsed to her knees, unable to fight any longer as she felt the blood running down her side and leg. Then she felt hands pulling her up and urging her towards the bridge, right to the edge where she was pushed over and felt herself falling, falling into a darkness she knew she wouldn't wake from.
****************
Is she dead? Or isn't she? Boromir better save her!
Thanks for reading! C-ya!