As A Dream
Written by: Kbartlez
Disclaimer/ I do not own Tolkien's characters. I do however own this stories race of wood nymphs.
The Battle
Rire
Rire took mist form and flew to the watch towers. The towers were located on the tops of the tallest trees. She rose to the highest of them and found a place amongst the watchers. These men would survey the battle to make sure Char and his men were winning, sending in reinforcements when needed.
Sitting on the edge of the tower, out of the way, and watched. Below her Char's army stood stoic, ready for battle. Each man required to take their human form. They could not be killed in mist, but they could not do any harm either. Rire scanned them for her beloved. He stood in the front, his head held high and his midnight hair blowing across his face. Oh how desperately Rire wanted to fight alongside him. Alas, women fighters were dreadfully frowned upon. Her colony still lived in the dark ages. A hand touched her shoulder and she practically fell off. Catching her balance she turned to see who it was.
"Father!" Her father smiled and looked down off the tower at Char.
"He is a handsome man, No? Strong and valiant. A good choice for marriage." Rire's father laughed heartily.
"Stop it father. Yes, he is a wonderful man, but you mustn't tease us so." Rire turned back towards the battle field just as the human army marched onto the horizon. Their armor gleamed against the noon sun. Riding just to the east of the army was a small group of elves. Rire hissed. They also rode at the front gathering just outside of the forest, bows readied.
"Father. They've come. Now what will we do?" Rire asked.
"We will fight. We have been threatened. If our brothers do not see this, it will be their demise." Her father held his head high.
"Daughter, I must leave you. I will go to the weaponry, they will need me." With that he kissed her cheek and left.
Rire turned back to the field and watched silently as Char marched his men to meet their oppressors. She decided to fly closer. Taking mist form she soared beneath the trees and flew to their end. Clinging to the branches on the tallest tree she scanned the elves faces. Row upon row of gleaming blonde hair laughed at her. She looked for their leader, sure enough an elf at the front stood on a steed that screamed royalty. His golden hair braided in royal fashion and a broach upon his breast spoke that he was a prince, or should she say thee prince. Prince Legolas. She knew that face. Her entire life she been told stories of him. His bravery, his stories were told everywhere. And she was sick of it.
A horn sounded. The battle began. The archers pulled their bows back and shot them into the nymph's ranks. The one who thought fast quickly misted. The one's who didn't fell to the ground. Before the elves could attack again, Char's army pushed forwards and began the battle.
The Battle Field
Char went straight for Aragorn, dodging and weaving his every parry. Char struck Aragorn's left cheek, and insult.
"Next time I won't be so kind" Char scoffed.
Aragorn struck back with rage, his sword gleaming. Char, not quite ready, misted, and quickly returned as the sword drew back.
"You fight well, for a human." Char commented.
Aragorn smiled. "Yes, nymph. You fight well, for a coward."
Aragorn brought his sword up and struck out again, but Char was ready. He hit Aragorn in the arm. Slicing it good. Aragorn was quickly brought to his knees in pain. Char took advantage and raised his sword.
Legolas watched them fight in silence. But when Aragorn fell, and the nymph bring his sword up, Legolas stopped watching and placed an arrow in his bow. He sent the arrow straight into the nymphs heart. The nymph looked up with surprise and then pain. Legolas quickly went to Aragorn side and saw to his wound.
Char painfully sank to his knees. His heart thudded loudly in his head. All he could see in his head was Rire's beautiful face.
"Rire." He whispered as he fell face first on the ground he slowly misted. His green glow faded and the wind swept it up and over the trees.
"Char." Rire now stood facing the battle field. Her beloved, dead. Gone. And his killer stood rejoicing as the warriors fled, leaderless, back to the forest.