Thanks again to aroniiel for continued reviews, and to Cherished Dreams! On with the story....
Beren's Point of view:
I hear Maron scream my name, pointing to the sky. I look up in horror as Gandalf releases his power. Unleashed, the power immediately kills the attacking goblins, saving us all. But, in saving us, it may have slain my newest and most dear of friends. Oh, Awyng! I pray you are alive.
As the smoke clears, I scramble over the mutilated, smoking carcasses of our enemies towards my fallen comrade.
"Oh, Manwe," I cry, "Protect you servant!"
I stumble and fall over fallen goblins; I pick myself up and continue to hurry towards Awyng.
When I reach him, I cannot suppress my gasp of horror. He appears to be dead. Only one day into our quest, and my newest friend is slain....by filthy GOBLINS! I am full of sorrow and furry, but there are no goblins for me to vent my frustrations on. Instead, I hurl my battle axe through the air; its journey is stopped by a charred tree which is blocking its path.
"Beren?" I hear Maron's timid voice behind me. "Is he...? Oh! Beren!
"He is alive! Step away from him now, quickly!" Gandalf's voice is urgent. His brow is shiny with sweat and his face is pale. He looks ill after using so much of his energy to protect us.
"Give me your cloak, quickly now, Beren; Maron, I need you to warm water over the fire, stew athelas and rosemary in it, and bring it to me with some clean cloths. Hurry!"
I quickly give him my cloak to cover Awyng, and then watch anxiously as he passes his hands over Awyng's limp body. He mutters words that I cannot make out, but there appears to be no change.
"Here's the broth, Gandalf!" says Maron when she returns about twenty minutes later. In her haste to give the medicine to Gandalf, Maron slops some down her front. Despite the current situation, I have to stifle a laugh; Maron has always had trouble with "woman" duties. She handles a sword better than most men I know.
She looks at me, smiles, and looks down at the lifeless form of Awyng. Her cheerful manner is gone, replaced by a worried frown. I throw her a bit of cloth to clean herself up with and move closer to Awyng.
"Gandalf, is there anything I can do to help him?" I ask.
"Yes, take Maron into the forest and look for Gwyndle. She did not return when she went to find wood for the fire. It's possible that she was wounded in the battle. Bring her back."
I grab my extra cloak (that which is not being used to warm my friend), take Maron's hand, and set off into the surrounding forest. The night around us is strangely quite, and I am nervous. After about fifteen minutes, Maron pokes me hard in the ribs.
"What?"
"Do you see that shape? Over there?"
There is indeed a shape there, large and ...moving?
"It must be Gwydle!" I whisper urgently to Maron, tugging her after me.
When we reach the dark form, I realize too late that it is not just Gwyndle. It is a large blanket covering...something. And when I pull the blanket back, I find six goblins lying on top of the unconscious form of Gwyndle. I am completely taken aback, and can only gasp as one of them pulls out a rusty dagger and slashes my forearm with it. Hot blood pours from the stinging wound as I pull my own blade from its sheath. The goblin that wounded me falls as I strike. Blood repaid...
I hear a shriek and see a goblin standing over Maron, ready to strike. For a moment, I long for my axe, which I know is still lying motionless in the charred tree near Awyng. Without thinking another second, I let go of my sword and charge at the foul creature, knocking it to the ground. I use my fist to mutilate its face, ending its life, then turn to Maron. Her face is bleeding, but she is fine. Though she is normally brave, I can see her trembling with fear. I give her sword back to her and pick up my own. We turn to face the remaining four enemies. Within a minute, they are all slain. Maron is stained with their thick, black blood, but she is unhurt. I, on the other hand, can feel myself losing focus as my blood drains from the wound on my right arm, my sword arm.
Maron catches me as I fall to the ground, unable to keep my balance. The world is swimming out of focus. As I lose consciousness, I feel myself being lifted onto a strong back and I float off into darkness...
A/N: Sorry about all the "losing consciousness" stuff, but that's what I'm feeling when I write, so oh well! The endings will not continue to be that way, I promise!!! Please, read and review! My life depends on it! (mmkay, not really, just go with me, ok??)
Beren's Point of view:
I hear Maron scream my name, pointing to the sky. I look up in horror as Gandalf releases his power. Unleashed, the power immediately kills the attacking goblins, saving us all. But, in saving us, it may have slain my newest and most dear of friends. Oh, Awyng! I pray you are alive.
As the smoke clears, I scramble over the mutilated, smoking carcasses of our enemies towards my fallen comrade.
"Oh, Manwe," I cry, "Protect you servant!"
I stumble and fall over fallen goblins; I pick myself up and continue to hurry towards Awyng.
When I reach him, I cannot suppress my gasp of horror. He appears to be dead. Only one day into our quest, and my newest friend is slain....by filthy GOBLINS! I am full of sorrow and furry, but there are no goblins for me to vent my frustrations on. Instead, I hurl my battle axe through the air; its journey is stopped by a charred tree which is blocking its path.
"Beren?" I hear Maron's timid voice behind me. "Is he...? Oh! Beren!
"He is alive! Step away from him now, quickly!" Gandalf's voice is urgent. His brow is shiny with sweat and his face is pale. He looks ill after using so much of his energy to protect us.
"Give me your cloak, quickly now, Beren; Maron, I need you to warm water over the fire, stew athelas and rosemary in it, and bring it to me with some clean cloths. Hurry!"
I quickly give him my cloak to cover Awyng, and then watch anxiously as he passes his hands over Awyng's limp body. He mutters words that I cannot make out, but there appears to be no change.
"Here's the broth, Gandalf!" says Maron when she returns about twenty minutes later. In her haste to give the medicine to Gandalf, Maron slops some down her front. Despite the current situation, I have to stifle a laugh; Maron has always had trouble with "woman" duties. She handles a sword better than most men I know.
She looks at me, smiles, and looks down at the lifeless form of Awyng. Her cheerful manner is gone, replaced by a worried frown. I throw her a bit of cloth to clean herself up with and move closer to Awyng.
"Gandalf, is there anything I can do to help him?" I ask.
"Yes, take Maron into the forest and look for Gwyndle. She did not return when she went to find wood for the fire. It's possible that she was wounded in the battle. Bring her back."
I grab my extra cloak (that which is not being used to warm my friend), take Maron's hand, and set off into the surrounding forest. The night around us is strangely quite, and I am nervous. After about fifteen minutes, Maron pokes me hard in the ribs.
"What?"
"Do you see that shape? Over there?"
There is indeed a shape there, large and ...moving?
"It must be Gwydle!" I whisper urgently to Maron, tugging her after me.
When we reach the dark form, I realize too late that it is not just Gwyndle. It is a large blanket covering...something. And when I pull the blanket back, I find six goblins lying on top of the unconscious form of Gwyndle. I am completely taken aback, and can only gasp as one of them pulls out a rusty dagger and slashes my forearm with it. Hot blood pours from the stinging wound as I pull my own blade from its sheath. The goblin that wounded me falls as I strike. Blood repaid...
I hear a shriek and see a goblin standing over Maron, ready to strike. For a moment, I long for my axe, which I know is still lying motionless in the charred tree near Awyng. Without thinking another second, I let go of my sword and charge at the foul creature, knocking it to the ground. I use my fist to mutilate its face, ending its life, then turn to Maron. Her face is bleeding, but she is fine. Though she is normally brave, I can see her trembling with fear. I give her sword back to her and pick up my own. We turn to face the remaining four enemies. Within a minute, they are all slain. Maron is stained with their thick, black blood, but she is unhurt. I, on the other hand, can feel myself losing focus as my blood drains from the wound on my right arm, my sword arm.
Maron catches me as I fall to the ground, unable to keep my balance. The world is swimming out of focus. As I lose consciousness, I feel myself being lifted onto a strong back and I float off into darkness...
A/N: Sorry about all the "losing consciousness" stuff, but that's what I'm feeling when I write, so oh well! The endings will not continue to be that way, I promise!!! Please, read and review! My life depends on it! (mmkay, not really, just go with me, ok??)