Chapter Nine. Clean my wounds...
For a moment it seemed the blade would strike and that would be the end of the Steward, Faramir was making no move to stop it. But then almost seemingly without his assistance his blade rose, and blocked the fiery death. For a light shone in Faramir's eyes, and as Gandalf gazed on it seemed two men stood in the place of one. For as clearly to his eyes as Faramir stood there, another man stood as well. Boromir held the blade of fire with a blade of ice, his battle cry silent in the chilled air. The Witch King shrieked, a grating sound. He could see the spirit as well, once more he swung the blade, and again Boromir and Faramir held him off. With a cry they lunged, sweeping forward. The beast reared and the cloven hooves threatened to strike.
The blade of ice slammed bluntly against the knees, and the demon screamed as its kneecaps shattered, falling onto its back and forcing the fallen King to roll from his mount. "Aragorn!! If you can still hear us!! Forgive me!!" Boromir stood silent as Faramir stood still; both watched the wraith lord rise to his feet. He hissed... his blade flashed. And the two sprang at each other again. The other Nine resumed their attack, fierce and insistent... a scream pierced the air. The last fellbeast in the sky hit the ground, not five feet from where Legolas was holding his own. The elf had drawn his blades and slashed mercilessly at the wraith before him, then to his shock it suddently drew back, a short cry coming from its foul throat.
Black and thick, the blood dripped down the Elf's blade. "...Gandalf!! They can be wounded!!" The wizard nodded as Khamul retreated from reach, grasping his shoulder. "Indeed!! New courage all! We are drawing blood now!!" Gimli nodded and sunk the ax blade threw the hood. A scream as cold as winter rose, then slowly, faded into the distance... "I've slain one!!" The wraiths cried out, slain? Not slain! But even as they surged forth anew another fall to the blade of the fellowship! His cry as frigid as the last. Ji- Indur lay prone, his eyes open but empty as his very form faded away, the rings... we need...
The final death....
Aragorn was nearly tossed when the lion came to a sudden halt, golden main tangled where his fingers had gripped. He gazed upon it in silence. "And now you are tawny, is this the place?" the great beast did not respond, but lowered itself for him to dismount. Aragorn stood before a giant mirror, and gazed in shock as an image swam onto the glass. A battle was raging, fellbeasts littered the ground, and there was the fellowship! They held their own as the Nazgul began to fall, their phantom auras growing dim before a blade cut off the spark altogether.
And even as he watched another image filled the mirrors frame. Faramir stood before him, eyes alight. He was parrying a blade of fire, and as Aragorn focused on it the hilt came into view and he cried out in denial. "No! I will not fight my companions! Nor slay my friends! Witch King!!" it seemed to grow still, the wraith finally aware of his presence. "...You have no power over me..." with both hands he held aloft the broken blade... and brought it down upon the mirror with all his might.
The glass shattered, fragmenting even as it flew into the air, and the scream of the wraith surrounded him. But the King stood untouched, the lions pendant around his throat once more. For a moment, eyes of fire and ice gazed into the depth of his soul, then shut with a shudder of defeat. And even as he felt the sensation of falling back into darkness, a fragment seemed to waft threw his eyes...
.... .... .... .....
... "Do you regret any of it? Any of the crazed and foolish things we've done?" the sea breeze caressed their faces, and in the distance the cry of the gulls echoed the fading light. Khamul stood illuminated in the doorway, the wind blowing his graying hair about. His eyes were playful, affectionate. From bellow them in the city a gentle lull had fallen. "We've had some times, eh Murazor?" a chuckle, the other king stood beside him, the fading sun lighting his face, "Yes... yes we have, but I'll warrant you, they've not yet ended!" Khamul smiled, his eyes on the sea, "The gulls call the elves, and the dwarfs feel it in their bones, but we men... we have no calling for when the end comes..." A hand, firm and warm, descended gently on his shoulder. "Nay, we have no warning, but we have a hand in our fates... I will not leave this world without you beside me. I know not where I would go, but it would be unbearable alone."
The Easterling smiled, "Nor I without you, we have stood together to long to be parted by such a thing as death. So we are agreed, neither will leave without the other." Murazor nodded, watching the last of the light fade. "We are agreed,...it always steals my breath, watching the sea in the evening..." Khamul laughed...
A flower fades in winter
A star in morning sky
The greatest tree must wither
And even gods may die…
....
I hear the gulls are crying
Their songs lead to the sea
What business have I dieing
If you are not with me?
....
The spring still leads to rivers
And fire still will burn
As long as you are with me
I will always, always…
Return…