Chapter 6: Assault
Dreamcast II: The Ivory Host
Aragorn's POV
The people have begun to moan from the loads they carry. The mules can hold only so much, and the rest is slung over every back, aged or youthful. Many carry more than physical burdens on their backs: fear, cowardice, or lost hope.
One of our number is acting stranger than ever. Rivers has armed every inch of her body with light daggers and chain mail. She is a walking weapon, stalking Hama and his friend. It took three men to restrain her when we sent them on a scouting mission. She knows something, I can feel it...
And I don't like the feeling.
(3rd person)
"Wargs!"
The cry from the hill swam through the crowd with a ruthless efficiency. People clambered around aimlessly, fear and confusion plaguing their heads. Rivers had her weapons drawn; four pointy hand knives protruded from her scarred palms.
Aragorn clapped her shoulders and told her, "Go with Eowyn! She will need your help in guiding the people!" And with that he whirled onto his horse.
Rivers flashed a devilish smile to no one and muttered, "After I kill for a bit."
She snatched a white horse near by and spurred it before she was properly seated. The horse took off beneath her and she tore over the hill. Blood was heavy in the air; even the stench of the Orcs didn't surface. Rivers averted the battle, fearing death. She spotted Legolas and Gimli, hacking at Wargs as they poured over the hill. Gimli slew one, which fell on top of him. Where was Aragorn?
He was wrestling with a goblin rider. The beast beneath snarled and he kicked it. She remembered where he was, and looked back to Gimli. A large wolf was on top of him, pinned beneath a pile of carcasses. Without thinking, she flung her dagger. It screamed towards the beast, striking him dead.
Rivers smiled. "Here we go!" And she kicked with all her might.
Legolas' POV
I jabbed an orc aside with my scimitar and all most died from what I saw. It was Rivers, coming over the hill like a deadly lancer. What was she doing here? What if she died?
She flew by, snatching her knife, and was speeding toward a goblin. His teeth gleamed with sludge and the warg beneath him snarled. She was untrained, and she was afraid.
The goblin unhorsed her with a bloody thrust of his spear. The tip punctured her palm. In pain, she grabbed it and swung the thing off of his steed. He landed a few feet away, unharmed. Her steed reared and pummeled his hooves into its chest, but a warg tackled the horse and they flailed across the plains.
I whipped an arrow to the bow, but paused. Rivers and the orc were wrestling, nearing the edge of the cliff. She had its back to the gorge and was about to finish him off. But the orc hooked its claws towards her face, and she whipped away, jagged cuts strewn across her features, the features I relished to look at untouched by battle. I released my arrow.
She sprang back to her monster and he tumbled over the cliff. But the arrow sped towards her—a look of terror and a gasp of shock were cast at the arrow. She jerked as it collided with her skin. It kept going, through her skin, through her heart...
"No," I whispered.
The force drove her over and she fell to meet her dead orc. Over the cliff, out of my sight.
And I cried.
Aragorn's POV
The people have begun to moan from the loads they carry. The mules can hold only so much, and the rest is slung over every back, aged or youthful. Many carry more than physical burdens on their backs: fear, cowardice, or lost hope.
One of our number is acting stranger than ever. Rivers has armed every inch of her body with light daggers and chain mail. She is a walking weapon, stalking Hama and his friend. It took three men to restrain her when we sent them on a scouting mission. She knows something, I can feel it...
And I don't like the feeling.
(3rd person)
"Wargs!"
The cry from the hill swam through the crowd with a ruthless efficiency. People clambered around aimlessly, fear and confusion plaguing their heads. Rivers had her weapons drawn; four pointy hand knives protruded from her scarred palms.
Aragorn clapped her shoulders and told her, "Go with Eowyn! She will need your help in guiding the people!" And with that he whirled onto his horse.
Rivers flashed a devilish smile to no one and muttered, "After I kill for a bit."
She snatched a white horse near by and spurred it before she was properly seated. The horse took off beneath her and she tore over the hill. Blood was heavy in the air; even the stench of the Orcs didn't surface. Rivers averted the battle, fearing death. She spotted Legolas and Gimli, hacking at Wargs as they poured over the hill. Gimli slew one, which fell on top of him. Where was Aragorn?
He was wrestling with a goblin rider. The beast beneath snarled and he kicked it. She remembered where he was, and looked back to Gimli. A large wolf was on top of him, pinned beneath a pile of carcasses. Without thinking, she flung her dagger. It screamed towards the beast, striking him dead.
Rivers smiled. "Here we go!" And she kicked with all her might.
Legolas' POV
I jabbed an orc aside with my scimitar and all most died from what I saw. It was Rivers, coming over the hill like a deadly lancer. What was she doing here? What if she died?
She flew by, snatching her knife, and was speeding toward a goblin. His teeth gleamed with sludge and the warg beneath him snarled. She was untrained, and she was afraid.
The goblin unhorsed her with a bloody thrust of his spear. The tip punctured her palm. In pain, she grabbed it and swung the thing off of his steed. He landed a few feet away, unharmed. Her steed reared and pummeled his hooves into its chest, but a warg tackled the horse and they flailed across the plains.
I whipped an arrow to the bow, but paused. Rivers and the orc were wrestling, nearing the edge of the cliff. She had its back to the gorge and was about to finish him off. But the orc hooked its claws towards her face, and she whipped away, jagged cuts strewn across her features, the features I relished to look at untouched by battle. I released my arrow.
She sprang back to her monster and he tumbled over the cliff. But the arrow sped towards her—a look of terror and a gasp of shock were cast at the arrow. She jerked as it collided with her skin. It kept going, through her skin, through her heart...
"No," I whispered.
The force drove her over and she fell to meet her dead orc. Over the cliff, out of my sight.
And I cried.