II. Cloud and Shade
A/N: I own Anwe and our nameless soldier. Everything else is Tolkien's glorious creation.
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It was the worst thing she had ever endured. Anwë had put on a brave face for her betrothed, but to watch him ride away from her into the very face of death was pure torture. There was nothing she could have done to stop him; she had known the risk that came with loving a soldier of Gondor, especially in these dark days. Yet she wished that the Steward could understand that the river-city was lost to them, and sending away warriors that were needed in Minas Tirith was no solution.
Briefly she wondered if she climbed up to the sixth or seventh level of the city perhaps she could see the soldiers charging towards Osgiliath's ruins. She feared what she might see, though, and instead offered a silent prayer to him, willing that he would somehow be protected and come safe home to her.
And so she waited.
There was no laughter in the White City that morning or afternoon; even the small children seemed to understand the grave situation. She spoke quietly with a few neighbors and empathized with those who had just been parted from their husbands and sons. She continued her work on a quilt which she hoped would soon cover their bed. A thought arose which frightened her: that it was likely that the half-complete quilt would never be needed – but, no. She touched the flower on her dress and refused to believe it.
It was a long, cruel day. The edges of her flower began to brown; she told herself that it was natural, but it would have been so much more reassuring if the petals had stayed fresh and white.
When she could stitch no longer, Anwë wandered the city, seeking comfort and friendly faces. It was just after eleven bells pealed that she found herself upon the first level amid frantic mothers and anxious guards. Long had deep drums been heard in the distance, and it seemed they drew ever closer. The stonéd streets fairly quaked as the drumbeats sounded.
The words orcs, army, trolls, and other things unpleasant drifted through the sea of uneasy citizens in the first level courtyard. Suddenly a cry of, "Open the Gate! Quickly!" came up from the wall. Several guards sprang forth and drew back the massive gate. To everyone's surprise, in came a horse dragging the body of a Gondorian soldier in armour battered and stained, not far ahead of a monstrous black army.
Anwë held her breath as the Gate was closed, torn between hoping it was her beloved and dreading that it might be.
"It is the Lord Faramir!" one of the guards exclaimed in astonishment.
"The others..." his comrade began, trailing off bravely.
Cries arose from the people who had seen off friends and family that morning. Anwë stood silent and numb. He was dead. Gone. No, he couldn't be. They were going to marry in less than three weeks; they were going to have children and raise a family, and spend the rest of their days together.
Hushed whispers taunted her ears.
"No survivors..."
"Sent to their deaths..."
"...all perished..."
"...never stood a chance."
Her eyes stung with the threat of tears and she turned and fled the cruel courtyard, returning home as quickly as her feet would allow her. She threw herself into the nearest chair and moaned in anguish, her body wracking with sobs. She pounded her fists on the table before her, screaming in denial until at last the shock left her.
He was dead. No home, no family, no growing old together. Dead.
She removed the flower from her dress. One of the petals fell off; already its snowy surface was dull and rotting.
Anwë folded her arms on the table and laid her head down on them. Her hope, her dreams, her love – all had been taken by the darkness. All were dead.
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Depressing much? The final chapter should be up pretty soon, but I'm warning you, it won't be cheerful either. Anyhow, please review and tell me what you think!
Review Responses:
Lady of Rivendell78-- Wow, thanks so much for your awesome review!!! Sorry this chapter isn't happier... the genre is labeled as "Tragedy" ;)
DreaminofLorien-- Thanks, I hope you enjoyed this chapter as well!
A/N: I own Anwe and our nameless soldier. Everything else is Tolkien's glorious creation.
----------------------
It was the worst thing she had ever endured. Anwë had put on a brave face for her betrothed, but to watch him ride away from her into the very face of death was pure torture. There was nothing she could have done to stop him; she had known the risk that came with loving a soldier of Gondor, especially in these dark days. Yet she wished that the Steward could understand that the river-city was lost to them, and sending away warriors that were needed in Minas Tirith was no solution.
Briefly she wondered if she climbed up to the sixth or seventh level of the city perhaps she could see the soldiers charging towards Osgiliath's ruins. She feared what she might see, though, and instead offered a silent prayer to him, willing that he would somehow be protected and come safe home to her.
And so she waited.
There was no laughter in the White City that morning or afternoon; even the small children seemed to understand the grave situation. She spoke quietly with a few neighbors and empathized with those who had just been parted from their husbands and sons. She continued her work on a quilt which she hoped would soon cover their bed. A thought arose which frightened her: that it was likely that the half-complete quilt would never be needed – but, no. She touched the flower on her dress and refused to believe it.
It was a long, cruel day. The edges of her flower began to brown; she told herself that it was natural, but it would have been so much more reassuring if the petals had stayed fresh and white.
When she could stitch no longer, Anwë wandered the city, seeking comfort and friendly faces. It was just after eleven bells pealed that she found herself upon the first level amid frantic mothers and anxious guards. Long had deep drums been heard in the distance, and it seemed they drew ever closer. The stonéd streets fairly quaked as the drumbeats sounded.
The words orcs, army, trolls, and other things unpleasant drifted through the sea of uneasy citizens in the first level courtyard. Suddenly a cry of, "Open the Gate! Quickly!" came up from the wall. Several guards sprang forth and drew back the massive gate. To everyone's surprise, in came a horse dragging the body of a Gondorian soldier in armour battered and stained, not far ahead of a monstrous black army.
Anwë held her breath as the Gate was closed, torn between hoping it was her beloved and dreading that it might be.
"It is the Lord Faramir!" one of the guards exclaimed in astonishment.
"The others..." his comrade began, trailing off bravely.
Cries arose from the people who had seen off friends and family that morning. Anwë stood silent and numb. He was dead. Gone. No, he couldn't be. They were going to marry in less than three weeks; they were going to have children and raise a family, and spend the rest of their days together.
Hushed whispers taunted her ears.
"No survivors..."
"Sent to their deaths..."
"...all perished..."
"...never stood a chance."
Her eyes stung with the threat of tears and she turned and fled the cruel courtyard, returning home as quickly as her feet would allow her. She threw herself into the nearest chair and moaned in anguish, her body wracking with sobs. She pounded her fists on the table before her, screaming in denial until at last the shock left her.
He was dead. No home, no family, no growing old together. Dead.
She removed the flower from her dress. One of the petals fell off; already its snowy surface was dull and rotting.
Anwë folded her arms on the table and laid her head down on them. Her hope, her dreams, her love – all had been taken by the darkness. All were dead.
-------------------------
Depressing much? The final chapter should be up pretty soon, but I'm warning you, it won't be cheerful either. Anyhow, please review and tell me what you think!
Review Responses:
Lady of Rivendell78-- Wow, thanks so much for your awesome review!!! Sorry this chapter isn't happier... the genre is labeled as "Tragedy" ;)
DreaminofLorien-- Thanks, I hope you enjoyed this chapter as well!
