By the Light of the Moon
Disclaimer~ I do not own any of Tolkien's creations. I only own SOME of the storyline and the characters I made up. This takes place during TTT and ROTK. Legolas is a sexy elf...I'd love to own him! *smiles*
A/N: Hello everyone! I just want to thank all my reviewers. I'm glad you like the story.
~Tuscan Angel: Ha ha! I know I'm killing you...sorry. *smirks* Anyway, I'm not trying to Leggy with a broken heart. I would never do that for I love him way too much. I was just making a point...hee. You will find out what happens with Mariah and Leggy soon enough. "Patience...patience, my love..." as Gollum would say...LOL! BTW, any sign of John Shooter? LOL! Keep your windows locked! Muah-ha-ha!
~Everyone who is glad that Mariah was mean to Denethor: Yes...I love that too. There were too many names to type thanks to in this category...LOL.
~Cindy: I know...I made Mariah's "friends" evil...but I guess when you know peeps like that it's easy to write...hee. Mariah and Leggy will pretty much end up together, but it's a complicated situation. What if she stays...what if she goes home? Ya never know...hee. I updated as fast as I can. *smiles*
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Chapter 21~ Battle of the Pelennor Fields: Part I
Aragorn wearily watched as Legolas walked to his tent furiously. He knew that the elf was struggling with this. How could an elf and a mortal be together? That was the one question he used to always ask himself before he joined the Fellowship. How could he and Arwen be together when he would die? She would have to forsake her own life...and that was something he didn't want her to do.
The ranger bid goodnight to his friends before walking to his tent and flopping down on his bed. He needed some sleep as well, but all he could think about was Arwen. He soon enough drifted into a deep sleep and began to toss and turn slightly. It was like he could hear her voice telling him she chose a mortal life. He could see her clearly. She was lying on her bed in a midnight blue dress with red sleeves. Her skin was pale and tears were running down her face. "I wish I could have seen him...one last time," she whispered as she closed her eyes. Aragorn then saw the Evenstar fall from his neck and shatter on the floor. "AH!" he screamed as he jolted up straight in his bed with his knife gripped tightly in his hand.
"Sir?" a voice asked, "King Théoden awaits you, my Lord." Aragorn took in a few deep breaths before strolling out of his tent and over to the king's. When he walked inside, he saw Théoden talking to a cloaked man in a chair. "I take my leave," the king said as he silently walked past Aragorn and out of the tent. The ranger looked curiously upon the stranger until he stood and lifted off his hood. "My Lord Elrond," Aragorn immediately said as he bowed his head.
"I come on behalf of one whom I love...Arwen is dying." Aragorn looked upon his Elven friend in disbelief. How could this be happening? "She will not long survive the evil that now spreads from Mordor. The light of the Evenstar is failing. As Sauron's power grows, her strength wanes. Arwen's life is now tied to the fate of the Ring. The Shadow is upon us, Aragorn. The end has come."
"It will not be our end, but his," the ranger stated clearly.
"You ride to war, but not to victory." Elrond took a step closer to Aragorn before continuing with the ill news. "Sauron's armies march on Minas Tirith as you know, but it secret he sends another force which will attack from the river. A fleet of Corsair ships sail from the south. They will be in the city in two days. You're outnumbered, Aragorn. You need more men."
"There are none," the ranger replied.
"There are those who dwell in the mountain," the elf said softly. He watched as Aragorn's expression went from confusion to anger rather quickly. "Murderers...traitors...you would call upon them to fight? They believe in nothing. They answer to no one," the ranger said angrily.
"They will answer to the King of Gondor!" Elrond stated, his voice rising as he took out a sword from beneath his cloak and presented it to Aragorn. "Anduril, Flame of the West, forged from the shards of Narsil." Aragorn eyed the sword and then gracefully lifted it from the elf's hands. "Sauron will not have forgotten the Sword of Elendil." The ranger skillfully unsheathed the sword and held it to his eye-level. "The Blade that was Broken shall return to Minas Tirith."
"The man who can wield the power of this sword can summon to him an army more deadly than any that walks this Earth. Put aside the ranger. Become who you were born to be. Take the Dimholt Road. Ónen i-Estel Edain (I give Hope to men)."
"Ú-chebin Estel anim (I keep none for myself)," Aragorn replied, his voice filling with sorrow by the minute. He sighed and sheathed the sword.
After Aragorn had prepared his horse, Brego, to leave, he walked his horse toward the crack in the mountain. He walked in silence until he was stopped by a gruff voice. "Just where do ya think you're off to?" Gimli asked.
"Not this time...this time you must stay, Gimli." The dwarf nodded and hummed sarcastically to himself. When the ranger looked to his left, he saw Legolas walk up with Arod. "Have you learned nothing of the stubbornness of dwarves?"
"You might as well accept it...we're going with ya, laddie." Aragorn smiled and then looked at both of his friends. "What about Haldir?" he asked.
"Our friend is making his way to Minas Tirith with the king," Legolas stated, "We'll meet up with him there."
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Mariah stood in the courtyard. It was all she cared to do now. There was nothing she could help with. Denethor would certainly lock her up and she wasn't about to hide during a battle. She was planning on waiting until the opportune moment to sneak off.
"Open the gate!" someone yelled from the lower levels. Mariah ran to the edge of the wall and looked out. What she saw on the Pelennor Fields astounded her. Orcs...many more than she could possibly count, were lined up. "Holy Crap," she muttered as she turned away from it and ran back toward the palace. She then saw Denethor running out with a worried look on his face. Her eyes were suddenly distracted to two soldiers carrying a man on a stretcher. "Faramir!" Denethor exclaimed as he ran toward his son's body, which was placed on the ground, "Say not that he has fallen!"
"They were outnumbered...none survived," the soldier said. Mariah immediately ran to Faramir's side and took one of his hands in her own. "You told me you would be alive when you came back," she whispered as a tear ran down her face. Pippin just stood and watched Mariah and Denethor look over the man's body with a frown on his face. Denethor suddenly stood up and began to back away from his son. "My sons are spent...my line has ended." Pippin quickly dashed to Faramir and placed a hand on his forehead. "He's alive," the hobbit whispered.
"The House of Steward has failed," Denethor whined.
"He needs medicine, my Lord!" Pippin exclaimed.
"My line has ended!" the Steward shouted as he looked out over the Pelennor Fields. His tears ceased and his mouth gaped at the sight of the orcs. "Rohan has deserted us..." Mariah stared at Denethor is disbelief as she felt the ground shake. The orcs were launching boulders at the city. Fear began to rise in her and she stood up. "Théoden's betrayed me..." Denethor continued.
"He hasn't! They will come to our aid!" she shouted. The Steward just ignored her and continued to yell. "Abandon your posts! Flee, flee for your lives!" When he turned around, his face was met with Gandalf's staff. The wizard had smacked him in the face and then knocked him to the ground. "Prepare for battle!" Gandalf ordered.
"Gandalf!" Mariah shouted as she ran to him. The wizard looked down at her and smiled. "I thought you said we should respect him," she said innocently, reminding Gandalf of his words.
"Sometimes you have to make exceptions and-"
"He was whining like a damn baby," Mariah interrupted. The wizard laughed for a quick moment and then whistled. When Mariah looked to her left, she saw Shadowfax ride up to Gandalf. The wizard immediately mounted the horse and looked down at the girl. "Stay up here," he ordered.
"I want to fight, Gandalf! You know I can do it," Mariah begged as she gripped Shadowfax's mane lightly.
"I know you can...but I pledged to keep you protected. You will stay here," Gandalf said as he turned Shadowfax around and lightly kicked the horse in the side. "Pull them in! To the wall!" Gandalf shouted as he rode down the ramp to the lower levels.
Mariah watched him leave and then darted into the palace. She made her way through the halls rather quickly and burst into her room. She looked around and then saw her pack sitting on a chair. Mariah went through it and grabbed her Elven garments. "This is it," she mumbled as he walked behind a dressing divider and changed into her battle clothes. When she stepped out, she strapped her daggers to her legs and her sword to her waist. "Something's missing..." she whispered to herself as she looked around. Her eyes were abruptly focused on her bow and quiver filled with arrows. A smile crossed her lips as she ran to the other side of the room and threw her remaining weapons over her shoulder.
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Aragorn, Legolas, and Gimli all rode down the Dimholt Road toward their destination. "What kind of army would linger in such a place?" Gimli asked.
"One that is cursed," Legolas replied, "Long ago the Men of the Mountain swore an oath to the last King of Gondor...to come to his aid...to fight. But when the time came...when Gondor's need was dire, they fled...vanishing into the darkness of the mountain. And so Isildur cursed them...never to rest until they had fulfilled their pledge."
Soon enough, they had all arrived at a cave entrance. They had dismounted their horses and walked them toward it. It was a square stone doorway, but skulls decorated the sides and sent an eerie calm about it. "The very warmth of my blood seems drawn away," Gimli whispered. Legolas stopped suddenly and looked at the writing above the doorway. "The way is shut. It was made by those who are dead...and the dead keep it. The way is shut." Almost as soon as he had finished reading, a powerful wind blew from the cave and drove the horses away. "Brego!" Aragorn yelled after them, but they didn't return. The ranger then looked back at the cave. "I do not fear death," he said confidently as he strode into the wind-filled tunnel. Legolas soon followed suit, leaving Gimli standing on his own. "Well this is something unheard of! An elf will go underground when a dwarf dare not? Oh...I'd never hear the end of it," Gimli said with an unsure sigh as he ran inside.
Aragorn grabbed a torch from the wall and began to lead his companions through the dark tunnels. Legolas walked silently, his ears perked for any sign of the dead. They were in here, somewhere. After a long way of running, they finally reached what looked like a stone palace...at least...large palace-like double doors. They stopped and looked around curiously. "Who enters my domain?" a voice asked. The three looked toward the doors and saw a ghostly king appear. "One who will have your allegiance," Aragorn responded.
"The dead do not suffer the living to pass."
"You will suffer me!" The King of the Dead let out a bone-chilling laugh at Aragorn's words. It seemed to amuse him in some twisted way. When Aragorn and his companions turned around, they saw the Army of the Dead become visible and begin to advance on them. When they looked back at the king, he was speaking. "The way is shut. It was made by those who are dead...and the dead keep it. The way is shut. Now you must die!" Legolas fired an arrow, but it only went through the ghost. Gimli gripped his axe against his chest and glared. "I summon you to fulfill your oath!" Aragorn ordered as he raised his sword.
"None but the King of Gondor may command me," the ghost replied as he swung his sword at Aragorn. The ranger blocked it! "That blade was broken!" the king yelled.
"It had been remade," Aragorn retorted as he grabbed the ghost by his throat and pushed him away, "Fight for us and regain your honor. What say you?" Aragorn walked through the ghosts, keeping his sword raised. "What say you?" he asked again.
"Ah, you waste your time, Aragorn. They had no honor in life, they have none now in death."
"I am Isildur's heir...fight for me...and I will hold your oaths fulfilled," Aragorn stated, "What say you?"
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Mariah walked back outside into the courtyard and noticed that night had fallen. She could hear the waging battle all around her and it made a shiver run throughout hr body. She looked to her right and saw an open door that led into a tomb. She darted inside and saw Faramir being placed atop a pile of wood with his father kneeling next to him. "Denethor, what is God's name are you doing?" she shouted as she ran to Faramir's side and took one of his hands. The Steward just ignored her and began to whisper to him, though she couldn't understand what he was saying. "He's alive you damn fool! Let him go," she said.
"Miss Morgan, I order you to go back into the Citadel and stay there," the Steward said as he looked up at her.
"Take your son to a healer. He's going to be okay. There's no reason to murder him."
"He's dead, Miss Morgan," Denethor replied as he got off of the wood pile and stood directly in front of Mariah, "Now get back inside."
"Not until you get him to a healer. I'm not letting you kill your son!" Denethor snapped his fingers and two guards came up behind Mariah and grabbed her shoulders. "Take her to the tower," he ordered.
"Hell no!" Mariah shouted as she pulled out of their grasp and ran to Faramir's side. She knelt atop the wood and tried to push Faramir off, but she felt two people grab her again. "Let me go!" she yelled, "You bastards!" The guards dragged her off the pile and started toward the door. "Denethor," Mariah said as she looked over her shoulder, "This is far from over." She felt anger course through her entire body and she knew what she had to do.
Mariah lifted her feet off the ground and kicked both men in the side, knocking them a few feet away. She did a back flip and morphed into her form in mid-air. When she landed and faced the Steward, his eyes widened. This beautiful woman was a werewolf! "You monster!" he yelled, "Seize her!"
"This shall be fun," she muttered as she took out her daggers. Two soldiers advanced on her, but she jumped up and landed on their heads. She kicked them together and did a front flip, landing gracefully behind them. The men fell to the ground unconscious and Mariah smiled at her work. When she looked at Denethor, he was lifting his fingers to snap them again. "Like hell you will," Mariah said angrily as she tackled him to the ground and placed one her daggers at his throat. He began to breathe heavily and fear more than anything could be seen in his eyes. "Now...release your son...NOW!"
"No," he said as he nodded his head. Four men came up behind Mariah and held her arms. She began to struggle as they pulled her off Denethor and toward the door. "Let me go!" she yelled.
"Take her to the Citadel and lock her in," Denethor ordered as he stood up and walked back over to Faramir.
"Just let me go!" Mariah yelled again as she kicked her feet. However, two of the men grabbed her legs and lifted them into the air to keep her still. The other two still had her arms in a firm grasp and had no intention of letting go.
Soon enough, they brought Mariah into the throne room and walked her toward the back. They opened a door and brought her up a set of stairs and opened another door. Mariah was then thrown into a stairwell and smacked her head against the wall. When she sat back up, her head throbbing in pain, she realized that she was probably locked in. She ran to the door and desperately pounded on it, tugged on the handle, and kicked it. "That's it," she mumbled as she took out her daggers and stuck them into the door. It didn't even make a dent.
"No...no...no," she cried desperately as she began slamming her fists against the door. She morphed back into her human form and kept at it for another few moments...nothing. Mariah turned around and leaned her back against the door, closing her eyes. "What am I gonna do?" She then looked at the dimly lit stairwell in front of her. "Well, might as well see where this leads...
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A/N: I know...the title of this chapter pretty much had nothing to do with the chapter. Please don't shoot me. I just had to get out part of it for you wonderful peeps. I love you guys! There will be a "Battle of the Pelennor Fields: Part II" and possibly a 3rd...depending on how long I make this and how much detail I get into!
Love,
Jack-Sparrow-Lover
Disclaimer~ I do not own any of Tolkien's creations. I only own SOME of the storyline and the characters I made up. This takes place during TTT and ROTK. Legolas is a sexy elf...I'd love to own him! *smiles*
A/N: Hello everyone! I just want to thank all my reviewers. I'm glad you like the story.
~Tuscan Angel: Ha ha! I know I'm killing you...sorry. *smirks* Anyway, I'm not trying to Leggy with a broken heart. I would never do that for I love him way too much. I was just making a point...hee. You will find out what happens with Mariah and Leggy soon enough. "Patience...patience, my love..." as Gollum would say...LOL! BTW, any sign of John Shooter? LOL! Keep your windows locked! Muah-ha-ha!
~Everyone who is glad that Mariah was mean to Denethor: Yes...I love that too. There were too many names to type thanks to in this category...LOL.
~Cindy: I know...I made Mariah's "friends" evil...but I guess when you know peeps like that it's easy to write...hee. Mariah and Leggy will pretty much end up together, but it's a complicated situation. What if she stays...what if she goes home? Ya never know...hee. I updated as fast as I can. *smiles*
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Chapter 21~ Battle of the Pelennor Fields: Part I
Aragorn wearily watched as Legolas walked to his tent furiously. He knew that the elf was struggling with this. How could an elf and a mortal be together? That was the one question he used to always ask himself before he joined the Fellowship. How could he and Arwen be together when he would die? She would have to forsake her own life...and that was something he didn't want her to do.
The ranger bid goodnight to his friends before walking to his tent and flopping down on his bed. He needed some sleep as well, but all he could think about was Arwen. He soon enough drifted into a deep sleep and began to toss and turn slightly. It was like he could hear her voice telling him she chose a mortal life. He could see her clearly. She was lying on her bed in a midnight blue dress with red sleeves. Her skin was pale and tears were running down her face. "I wish I could have seen him...one last time," she whispered as she closed her eyes. Aragorn then saw the Evenstar fall from his neck and shatter on the floor. "AH!" he screamed as he jolted up straight in his bed with his knife gripped tightly in his hand.
"Sir?" a voice asked, "King Théoden awaits you, my Lord." Aragorn took in a few deep breaths before strolling out of his tent and over to the king's. When he walked inside, he saw Théoden talking to a cloaked man in a chair. "I take my leave," the king said as he silently walked past Aragorn and out of the tent. The ranger looked curiously upon the stranger until he stood and lifted off his hood. "My Lord Elrond," Aragorn immediately said as he bowed his head.
"I come on behalf of one whom I love...Arwen is dying." Aragorn looked upon his Elven friend in disbelief. How could this be happening? "She will not long survive the evil that now spreads from Mordor. The light of the Evenstar is failing. As Sauron's power grows, her strength wanes. Arwen's life is now tied to the fate of the Ring. The Shadow is upon us, Aragorn. The end has come."
"It will not be our end, but his," the ranger stated clearly.
"You ride to war, but not to victory." Elrond took a step closer to Aragorn before continuing with the ill news. "Sauron's armies march on Minas Tirith as you know, but it secret he sends another force which will attack from the river. A fleet of Corsair ships sail from the south. They will be in the city in two days. You're outnumbered, Aragorn. You need more men."
"There are none," the ranger replied.
"There are those who dwell in the mountain," the elf said softly. He watched as Aragorn's expression went from confusion to anger rather quickly. "Murderers...traitors...you would call upon them to fight? They believe in nothing. They answer to no one," the ranger said angrily.
"They will answer to the King of Gondor!" Elrond stated, his voice rising as he took out a sword from beneath his cloak and presented it to Aragorn. "Anduril, Flame of the West, forged from the shards of Narsil." Aragorn eyed the sword and then gracefully lifted it from the elf's hands. "Sauron will not have forgotten the Sword of Elendil." The ranger skillfully unsheathed the sword and held it to his eye-level. "The Blade that was Broken shall return to Minas Tirith."
"The man who can wield the power of this sword can summon to him an army more deadly than any that walks this Earth. Put aside the ranger. Become who you were born to be. Take the Dimholt Road. Ónen i-Estel Edain (I give Hope to men)."
"Ú-chebin Estel anim (I keep none for myself)," Aragorn replied, his voice filling with sorrow by the minute. He sighed and sheathed the sword.
After Aragorn had prepared his horse, Brego, to leave, he walked his horse toward the crack in the mountain. He walked in silence until he was stopped by a gruff voice. "Just where do ya think you're off to?" Gimli asked.
"Not this time...this time you must stay, Gimli." The dwarf nodded and hummed sarcastically to himself. When the ranger looked to his left, he saw Legolas walk up with Arod. "Have you learned nothing of the stubbornness of dwarves?"
"You might as well accept it...we're going with ya, laddie." Aragorn smiled and then looked at both of his friends. "What about Haldir?" he asked.
"Our friend is making his way to Minas Tirith with the king," Legolas stated, "We'll meet up with him there."
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Mariah stood in the courtyard. It was all she cared to do now. There was nothing she could help with. Denethor would certainly lock her up and she wasn't about to hide during a battle. She was planning on waiting until the opportune moment to sneak off.
"Open the gate!" someone yelled from the lower levels. Mariah ran to the edge of the wall and looked out. What she saw on the Pelennor Fields astounded her. Orcs...many more than she could possibly count, were lined up. "Holy Crap," she muttered as she turned away from it and ran back toward the palace. She then saw Denethor running out with a worried look on his face. Her eyes were suddenly distracted to two soldiers carrying a man on a stretcher. "Faramir!" Denethor exclaimed as he ran toward his son's body, which was placed on the ground, "Say not that he has fallen!"
"They were outnumbered...none survived," the soldier said. Mariah immediately ran to Faramir's side and took one of his hands in her own. "You told me you would be alive when you came back," she whispered as a tear ran down her face. Pippin just stood and watched Mariah and Denethor look over the man's body with a frown on his face. Denethor suddenly stood up and began to back away from his son. "My sons are spent...my line has ended." Pippin quickly dashed to Faramir and placed a hand on his forehead. "He's alive," the hobbit whispered.
"The House of Steward has failed," Denethor whined.
"He needs medicine, my Lord!" Pippin exclaimed.
"My line has ended!" the Steward shouted as he looked out over the Pelennor Fields. His tears ceased and his mouth gaped at the sight of the orcs. "Rohan has deserted us..." Mariah stared at Denethor is disbelief as she felt the ground shake. The orcs were launching boulders at the city. Fear began to rise in her and she stood up. "Théoden's betrayed me..." Denethor continued.
"He hasn't! They will come to our aid!" she shouted. The Steward just ignored her and continued to yell. "Abandon your posts! Flee, flee for your lives!" When he turned around, his face was met with Gandalf's staff. The wizard had smacked him in the face and then knocked him to the ground. "Prepare for battle!" Gandalf ordered.
"Gandalf!" Mariah shouted as she ran to him. The wizard looked down at her and smiled. "I thought you said we should respect him," she said innocently, reminding Gandalf of his words.
"Sometimes you have to make exceptions and-"
"He was whining like a damn baby," Mariah interrupted. The wizard laughed for a quick moment and then whistled. When Mariah looked to her left, she saw Shadowfax ride up to Gandalf. The wizard immediately mounted the horse and looked down at the girl. "Stay up here," he ordered.
"I want to fight, Gandalf! You know I can do it," Mariah begged as she gripped Shadowfax's mane lightly.
"I know you can...but I pledged to keep you protected. You will stay here," Gandalf said as he turned Shadowfax around and lightly kicked the horse in the side. "Pull them in! To the wall!" Gandalf shouted as he rode down the ramp to the lower levels.
Mariah watched him leave and then darted into the palace. She made her way through the halls rather quickly and burst into her room. She looked around and then saw her pack sitting on a chair. Mariah went through it and grabbed her Elven garments. "This is it," she mumbled as he walked behind a dressing divider and changed into her battle clothes. When she stepped out, she strapped her daggers to her legs and her sword to her waist. "Something's missing..." she whispered to herself as she looked around. Her eyes were abruptly focused on her bow and quiver filled with arrows. A smile crossed her lips as she ran to the other side of the room and threw her remaining weapons over her shoulder.
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Aragorn, Legolas, and Gimli all rode down the Dimholt Road toward their destination. "What kind of army would linger in such a place?" Gimli asked.
"One that is cursed," Legolas replied, "Long ago the Men of the Mountain swore an oath to the last King of Gondor...to come to his aid...to fight. But when the time came...when Gondor's need was dire, they fled...vanishing into the darkness of the mountain. And so Isildur cursed them...never to rest until they had fulfilled their pledge."
Soon enough, they had all arrived at a cave entrance. They had dismounted their horses and walked them toward it. It was a square stone doorway, but skulls decorated the sides and sent an eerie calm about it. "The very warmth of my blood seems drawn away," Gimli whispered. Legolas stopped suddenly and looked at the writing above the doorway. "The way is shut. It was made by those who are dead...and the dead keep it. The way is shut." Almost as soon as he had finished reading, a powerful wind blew from the cave and drove the horses away. "Brego!" Aragorn yelled after them, but they didn't return. The ranger then looked back at the cave. "I do not fear death," he said confidently as he strode into the wind-filled tunnel. Legolas soon followed suit, leaving Gimli standing on his own. "Well this is something unheard of! An elf will go underground when a dwarf dare not? Oh...I'd never hear the end of it," Gimli said with an unsure sigh as he ran inside.
Aragorn grabbed a torch from the wall and began to lead his companions through the dark tunnels. Legolas walked silently, his ears perked for any sign of the dead. They were in here, somewhere. After a long way of running, they finally reached what looked like a stone palace...at least...large palace-like double doors. They stopped and looked around curiously. "Who enters my domain?" a voice asked. The three looked toward the doors and saw a ghostly king appear. "One who will have your allegiance," Aragorn responded.
"The dead do not suffer the living to pass."
"You will suffer me!" The King of the Dead let out a bone-chilling laugh at Aragorn's words. It seemed to amuse him in some twisted way. When Aragorn and his companions turned around, they saw the Army of the Dead become visible and begin to advance on them. When they looked back at the king, he was speaking. "The way is shut. It was made by those who are dead...and the dead keep it. The way is shut. Now you must die!" Legolas fired an arrow, but it only went through the ghost. Gimli gripped his axe against his chest and glared. "I summon you to fulfill your oath!" Aragorn ordered as he raised his sword.
"None but the King of Gondor may command me," the ghost replied as he swung his sword at Aragorn. The ranger blocked it! "That blade was broken!" the king yelled.
"It had been remade," Aragorn retorted as he grabbed the ghost by his throat and pushed him away, "Fight for us and regain your honor. What say you?" Aragorn walked through the ghosts, keeping his sword raised. "What say you?" he asked again.
"Ah, you waste your time, Aragorn. They had no honor in life, they have none now in death."
"I am Isildur's heir...fight for me...and I will hold your oaths fulfilled," Aragorn stated, "What say you?"
^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^
Mariah walked back outside into the courtyard and noticed that night had fallen. She could hear the waging battle all around her and it made a shiver run throughout hr body. She looked to her right and saw an open door that led into a tomb. She darted inside and saw Faramir being placed atop a pile of wood with his father kneeling next to him. "Denethor, what is God's name are you doing?" she shouted as she ran to Faramir's side and took one of his hands. The Steward just ignored her and began to whisper to him, though she couldn't understand what he was saying. "He's alive you damn fool! Let him go," she said.
"Miss Morgan, I order you to go back into the Citadel and stay there," the Steward said as he looked up at her.
"Take your son to a healer. He's going to be okay. There's no reason to murder him."
"He's dead, Miss Morgan," Denethor replied as he got off of the wood pile and stood directly in front of Mariah, "Now get back inside."
"Not until you get him to a healer. I'm not letting you kill your son!" Denethor snapped his fingers and two guards came up behind Mariah and grabbed her shoulders. "Take her to the tower," he ordered.
"Hell no!" Mariah shouted as she pulled out of their grasp and ran to Faramir's side. She knelt atop the wood and tried to push Faramir off, but she felt two people grab her again. "Let me go!" she yelled, "You bastards!" The guards dragged her off the pile and started toward the door. "Denethor," Mariah said as she looked over her shoulder, "This is far from over." She felt anger course through her entire body and she knew what she had to do.
Mariah lifted her feet off the ground and kicked both men in the side, knocking them a few feet away. She did a back flip and morphed into her form in mid-air. When she landed and faced the Steward, his eyes widened. This beautiful woman was a werewolf! "You monster!" he yelled, "Seize her!"
"This shall be fun," she muttered as she took out her daggers. Two soldiers advanced on her, but she jumped up and landed on their heads. She kicked them together and did a front flip, landing gracefully behind them. The men fell to the ground unconscious and Mariah smiled at her work. When she looked at Denethor, he was lifting his fingers to snap them again. "Like hell you will," Mariah said angrily as she tackled him to the ground and placed one her daggers at his throat. He began to breathe heavily and fear more than anything could be seen in his eyes. "Now...release your son...NOW!"
"No," he said as he nodded his head. Four men came up behind Mariah and held her arms. She began to struggle as they pulled her off Denethor and toward the door. "Let me go!" she yelled.
"Take her to the Citadel and lock her in," Denethor ordered as he stood up and walked back over to Faramir.
"Just let me go!" Mariah yelled again as she kicked her feet. However, two of the men grabbed her legs and lifted them into the air to keep her still. The other two still had her arms in a firm grasp and had no intention of letting go.
Soon enough, they brought Mariah into the throne room and walked her toward the back. They opened a door and brought her up a set of stairs and opened another door. Mariah was then thrown into a stairwell and smacked her head against the wall. When she sat back up, her head throbbing in pain, she realized that she was probably locked in. She ran to the door and desperately pounded on it, tugged on the handle, and kicked it. "That's it," she mumbled as she took out her daggers and stuck them into the door. It didn't even make a dent.
"No...no...no," she cried desperately as she began slamming her fists against the door. She morphed back into her human form and kept at it for another few moments...nothing. Mariah turned around and leaned her back against the door, closing her eyes. "What am I gonna do?" She then looked at the dimly lit stairwell in front of her. "Well, might as well see where this leads...
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A/N: I know...the title of this chapter pretty much had nothing to do with the chapter. Please don't shoot me. I just had to get out part of it for you wonderful peeps. I love you guys! There will be a "Battle of the Pelennor Fields: Part II" and possibly a 3rd...depending on how long I make this and how much detail I get into!
Love,
Jack-Sparrow-Lover