Chapter 9: A Terrible Encounter and a Choice to Match
Aragorn, Legolas and Gimli were well aware of Arwen's danger even before she was. Together they hacked their way towards her but were delayed by the sheer number of goblins. It seemed as if the whole mountain had come alive with the yammering vermin. Many were felled to the ground or hurled, shrieking, into the abyss, but they had still not reached her by the time she was finally brought down by the pack.
"Back you dogs!" roared Aragorn as he gave a ferocious swipe with his sword. Three of the enemy fell headless. Gimli drew a throwing axe and hurled it into the throat of another. Legolas had slaughtered a space in which to shoot from, and was proceeding to do so. And so the black tide was turned back - the goblins were steadily giving ground, their excited yells echoing up the cliff face. But just as the three companions were finally making their presence felt, a group of the enemy began to swarm back up the side of the cliff, dragging the limp body of the elf-maiden behind them. Legolas snarled something, drawing his bow in a heartbeat and sending swift death to one of the goblins. The rest then slipped into a crack in the cliff face, hauling their prize in behind. And she was gone. Just like that.
"After them!" Aragorn bounded towards the wall of rock with the intention of clawing his way up. Just as he reached it an ululating bellow rang out from above. A huge shape leaped from the hidden bolthole, amidst a flurry of ice and rock, to crash down on the path with enough force to splinter the flagstones. Within the rising cloud of dust and debris a huge hulking form raised itself from its knees, then turned to face the three. Clutching a huge mattock in each hand, the snow troll blinked stupidly at them.
The elf and dwarf exchanged meaningful glances. Although huge and dull- witted, trolls were fearsome and deceptively fast opponents. This one had already recovered from its surprise and began to advance, swinging its hammers ponderously from side to side. However, Legolas and Gimli's concern was not shared by Aragorn, who looked as if he would gladly hack his way through a dozen trolls to get to Arwen. The knowledge that she was even now being taken deeper into ork territory lent him a strength and purpose he had never felt before. Holding his sword ready, he drew his dagger and sprinted straight at the troll!
"Strider! What are you doing?" yelled Legolas, starting forwards.
"Aragorn you'll be killed!" Gimli barked, drawing a throwing axe from his belt.
"Hwoaar?" mumbled the troll, again confused.
It swung one hammer in a broad arc straight at him. Aragorn dived forwards and rolled under its legs - just as the weapon's head collided with the cliff, sending a shower of ice fragments skittering across the road. The hammer's head was embedded in the cliff face. The troll looked over its shoulder as it worked the weapon loose to see the Ranger standing behind it, notching an arrow to his bow. Roaring, it tore the hammer free and swung both of them all the way around to smash into the cliff again. Aragorn had not moved, the lethal blows had just missed him. Raising his bow he sent an arrow straight into the troll's throat.
The troll stopped dead in its tracks. One hand released its hammer, the weapon fell to the road, sending up a puff of snow. The hand went up to the neck and felt the arrow there - it ripped it out and crushed it in a huge fist. Clasping the haft of its remaining weapon in both hands the troll raised it high above its head, meaning to finish off the source of its irritation with one final blow. Aragorn wasted no time. He tossed his bow to one side and drew his sword once more. As the deadly weapon whistled down he leaped back. The hammer struck the road with terrifying force, sending smashed pieces of paving flying every which way. Quick as a flash the Ranger ran straight up the haft of the huge weapon, up the trolls right arm and jumped onto its back. The huge beast started to lumber around, trying to swat him off. Aragorn slipped and fell face first onto the troll's shoulder. He had drawn his dagger in his other hand and now slammed it into the troll's hide to keep from falling off. He reached with his sword arm around and under the beast's jaw and slashed the throat wide with one decisive cut.
The troll let out one final, mournful, moan. Then it tumbled forwards onto the road with an almighty crash. Aragorn clambered off its back wearily, but no time was afforded to the three to celebrate. After the avalanche, this battle was the final straw for the ancient causeway. Chunks of rock and ice fell onto the road from above as the flagstones beneath their feet started to shift and slide towards the crevasse.
"Run!" the three yelled simultaneously as they turned and sped ahead with their last reserves of strength. Behind them came a splintering noise, and an ominous rumbling built up. Risking a quick glance behind showed they had passed the danger zone. A great section of the road behind had all but disappeared. A yawning gap rimmed with broken paving was left behind, looking disturbingly like a gaping maw lined with teeth. Dust billowed up in a steady stream from the blasted crater. The three travellers felt the skin on their backs crawl as they themselves scanned the area for any further surprises. However the land was silent, as if it too had exhausted itself and was even now settling into a watchful rest. No sound was to be heard. Legolas and Gimli stood next to Aragorn and surveyed the scene in silence. It was up to him to dictate their path now.
Aragorn himself gazed at the far-away crack in the mountainside, now beyond their reach. His eyes were glazed over and his hands were clenched into fists by his side, but he would not weep - although he could. He could have bawled his eyes out in the snow, forgetting any commitment to his companions, his people, or any others who's fate rested in his hands. It would serve no purpose, at the end she would still be gone, and he would still be here. For a moment he almost convinced himself that he could have left her behind - but then he remembered the fierce light in her eyes when he had mentioned that, a few hundred years ago, in the fields outside Isengard. She would never have suffered him to go without her, and although she would doubtless have remained if he had forced the issue, to do so would have taken something away from her spirit, something that had made him fall in love with her in the first place.
He had just never even considered the possibility that something could happen to her. His own thoughts sounding ridiculous even to himself, but he never thought her the type to be defeated. Even after the terrible battle at the feet of Orthanc when the mace of the enormous Captain of the Haradrim had knocked her to the ground, she had still managed to kill him. Although her body was wounded and broken, her spirit had raged splendid and invincible.
And for what? For this? For her, his love, beautiful beyond measure, immortal, to be taken by a degenerate rabble of warped beasts, which would not see three score of years? It was horribly ... unfair. She had braved everything to prove her dedication to him, to be taken in just the same way as her mother had been.
He realised that his eyes were closed. He opened them slowly and stared at the hole in the mountain, a hole like an eye
(you'll never find her she's gone dead taken forever)
He jerked violently as the vision faded. The Eye of Sauron. Even here he could feel the strength of the Dark Lord's malice against him. Had he devised this trap purposefully? Just for Arwen? Just to spite him? A smouldering fire raged in his eyes. To hell with the quest and his duty. He would pursue those vermin to the ends of Middle-earth if need be. He would take back the body of his Arwen, his wife-to-be. And then they would feel his wrath. Oh yes. They would burn.
Legolas rested one hand on his shoulder, as if sensing his mood, and Aragorn swiftly felt the anger seeping away. He had almost lost control, and of course that was what Sauron wanted, to lure him away to a death in the wilderness. No more King of Gondor. Well, the blood heir of Isildur would see about that. Aragorn turned to his companions, stony faced. "We continue on our journey. It is time to bring this thing to an end, one way or another."
As they fell into step behind him Aragorn felt a thought lurking deep within his soul. He gave a last backward glance at the bolthole and turned to the road again, hating himself for thinking it but thinking it all the same. He hoped Arwen, for her own sake, was already dead.
Faintly, in his mind, he could still feel the soiling presence of Sauron. Strengthening his will, he crushed it, but he sensed the Dark Lord's mood and it brought a mirthless grin to his lips.
It felt like fear.
Aragorn, Legolas and Gimli were well aware of Arwen's danger even before she was. Together they hacked their way towards her but were delayed by the sheer number of goblins. It seemed as if the whole mountain had come alive with the yammering vermin. Many were felled to the ground or hurled, shrieking, into the abyss, but they had still not reached her by the time she was finally brought down by the pack.
"Back you dogs!" roared Aragorn as he gave a ferocious swipe with his sword. Three of the enemy fell headless. Gimli drew a throwing axe and hurled it into the throat of another. Legolas had slaughtered a space in which to shoot from, and was proceeding to do so. And so the black tide was turned back - the goblins were steadily giving ground, their excited yells echoing up the cliff face. But just as the three companions were finally making their presence felt, a group of the enemy began to swarm back up the side of the cliff, dragging the limp body of the elf-maiden behind them. Legolas snarled something, drawing his bow in a heartbeat and sending swift death to one of the goblins. The rest then slipped into a crack in the cliff face, hauling their prize in behind. And she was gone. Just like that.
"After them!" Aragorn bounded towards the wall of rock with the intention of clawing his way up. Just as he reached it an ululating bellow rang out from above. A huge shape leaped from the hidden bolthole, amidst a flurry of ice and rock, to crash down on the path with enough force to splinter the flagstones. Within the rising cloud of dust and debris a huge hulking form raised itself from its knees, then turned to face the three. Clutching a huge mattock in each hand, the snow troll blinked stupidly at them.
The elf and dwarf exchanged meaningful glances. Although huge and dull- witted, trolls were fearsome and deceptively fast opponents. This one had already recovered from its surprise and began to advance, swinging its hammers ponderously from side to side. However, Legolas and Gimli's concern was not shared by Aragorn, who looked as if he would gladly hack his way through a dozen trolls to get to Arwen. The knowledge that she was even now being taken deeper into ork territory lent him a strength and purpose he had never felt before. Holding his sword ready, he drew his dagger and sprinted straight at the troll!
"Strider! What are you doing?" yelled Legolas, starting forwards.
"Aragorn you'll be killed!" Gimli barked, drawing a throwing axe from his belt.
"Hwoaar?" mumbled the troll, again confused.
It swung one hammer in a broad arc straight at him. Aragorn dived forwards and rolled under its legs - just as the weapon's head collided with the cliff, sending a shower of ice fragments skittering across the road. The hammer's head was embedded in the cliff face. The troll looked over its shoulder as it worked the weapon loose to see the Ranger standing behind it, notching an arrow to his bow. Roaring, it tore the hammer free and swung both of them all the way around to smash into the cliff again. Aragorn had not moved, the lethal blows had just missed him. Raising his bow he sent an arrow straight into the troll's throat.
The troll stopped dead in its tracks. One hand released its hammer, the weapon fell to the road, sending up a puff of snow. The hand went up to the neck and felt the arrow there - it ripped it out and crushed it in a huge fist. Clasping the haft of its remaining weapon in both hands the troll raised it high above its head, meaning to finish off the source of its irritation with one final blow. Aragorn wasted no time. He tossed his bow to one side and drew his sword once more. As the deadly weapon whistled down he leaped back. The hammer struck the road with terrifying force, sending smashed pieces of paving flying every which way. Quick as a flash the Ranger ran straight up the haft of the huge weapon, up the trolls right arm and jumped onto its back. The huge beast started to lumber around, trying to swat him off. Aragorn slipped and fell face first onto the troll's shoulder. He had drawn his dagger in his other hand and now slammed it into the troll's hide to keep from falling off. He reached with his sword arm around and under the beast's jaw and slashed the throat wide with one decisive cut.
The troll let out one final, mournful, moan. Then it tumbled forwards onto the road with an almighty crash. Aragorn clambered off its back wearily, but no time was afforded to the three to celebrate. After the avalanche, this battle was the final straw for the ancient causeway. Chunks of rock and ice fell onto the road from above as the flagstones beneath their feet started to shift and slide towards the crevasse.
"Run!" the three yelled simultaneously as they turned and sped ahead with their last reserves of strength. Behind them came a splintering noise, and an ominous rumbling built up. Risking a quick glance behind showed they had passed the danger zone. A great section of the road behind had all but disappeared. A yawning gap rimmed with broken paving was left behind, looking disturbingly like a gaping maw lined with teeth. Dust billowed up in a steady stream from the blasted crater. The three travellers felt the skin on their backs crawl as they themselves scanned the area for any further surprises. However the land was silent, as if it too had exhausted itself and was even now settling into a watchful rest. No sound was to be heard. Legolas and Gimli stood next to Aragorn and surveyed the scene in silence. It was up to him to dictate their path now.
Aragorn himself gazed at the far-away crack in the mountainside, now beyond their reach. His eyes were glazed over and his hands were clenched into fists by his side, but he would not weep - although he could. He could have bawled his eyes out in the snow, forgetting any commitment to his companions, his people, or any others who's fate rested in his hands. It would serve no purpose, at the end she would still be gone, and he would still be here. For a moment he almost convinced himself that he could have left her behind - but then he remembered the fierce light in her eyes when he had mentioned that, a few hundred years ago, in the fields outside Isengard. She would never have suffered him to go without her, and although she would doubtless have remained if he had forced the issue, to do so would have taken something away from her spirit, something that had made him fall in love with her in the first place.
He had just never even considered the possibility that something could happen to her. His own thoughts sounding ridiculous even to himself, but he never thought her the type to be defeated. Even after the terrible battle at the feet of Orthanc when the mace of the enormous Captain of the Haradrim had knocked her to the ground, she had still managed to kill him. Although her body was wounded and broken, her spirit had raged splendid and invincible.
And for what? For this? For her, his love, beautiful beyond measure, immortal, to be taken by a degenerate rabble of warped beasts, which would not see three score of years? It was horribly ... unfair. She had braved everything to prove her dedication to him, to be taken in just the same way as her mother had been.
He realised that his eyes were closed. He opened them slowly and stared at the hole in the mountain, a hole like an eye
(you'll never find her she's gone dead taken forever)
He jerked violently as the vision faded. The Eye of Sauron. Even here he could feel the strength of the Dark Lord's malice against him. Had he devised this trap purposefully? Just for Arwen? Just to spite him? A smouldering fire raged in his eyes. To hell with the quest and his duty. He would pursue those vermin to the ends of Middle-earth if need be. He would take back the body of his Arwen, his wife-to-be. And then they would feel his wrath. Oh yes. They would burn.
Legolas rested one hand on his shoulder, as if sensing his mood, and Aragorn swiftly felt the anger seeping away. He had almost lost control, and of course that was what Sauron wanted, to lure him away to a death in the wilderness. No more King of Gondor. Well, the blood heir of Isildur would see about that. Aragorn turned to his companions, stony faced. "We continue on our journey. It is time to bring this thing to an end, one way or another."
As they fell into step behind him Aragorn felt a thought lurking deep within his soul. He gave a last backward glance at the bolthole and turned to the road again, hating himself for thinking it but thinking it all the same. He hoped Arwen, for her own sake, was already dead.
Faintly, in his mind, he could still feel the soiling presence of Sauron. Strengthening his will, he crushed it, but he sensed the Dark Lord's mood and it brought a mirthless grin to his lips.
It felt like fear.