AN: Perhaps because I'm not constantly consulting slips of paper covered in notes, I'm finding this fic a lot easier to write than my others. I just sit down at the computer and boom! Type. We'll see how long that lasts. ;D
Opens basically where it left off: A certain captain of Rohan reflecting on that same day mentioned in the last chapter. R R.
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"Hope fades,
Into the world of night.
Through shadows falling,
Out of memory and time."
-Annie Lennox, "Into the West"
A grim face rode hard across the golden plains, leading a great host of men. The pounding of horses' hooves echoed in his ears, his mind, his heart… War. Always riding to war. Never reaching that peace they fought for each day. His frown seemed to be permanently etched upon his features, the smiles of his childhood forgotten and erased. "Ever since that fateful day," he thought, letting his mind wander as the plains rushed by.
Seventeen years. Had it really been that long? Seventeen years since he'd last felt bliss, free from cares. Never again would he enjoy that happiness. Seventeen years ago the message came that shattered their idyllic life in Aldburg of the East-mark.
He remembered the details with remarkable clarity. His mother had been administering dinner after having called the siblings in from their play. "The house was still full of laughter," he recalled, and the bright shining faces of the two women he loved most in all the world—his sister Eowyn and his mother Theodwyn.
Then came the pounding at the door. The weary, grisly messenger had stumbled in, breathing heavily and refusing all of his mother's attempts to feed or aid him; he had begged her to let him speak his message.
"Lord Eomund," he had managed with ragged breaths. Theodwyn's face had blanched at the mention of her husband, gone to battle, and she feared the worst.
"The orcs… we followed too far… Emyn Muil… they ambushed us… they killed so many." Managing to control one deep breath, he had steadied himself and knelt before Theodwyn.
"Milady, they killed him." Theodwyn had closed her eyes in horror, her face white as a sheet, but she had forced herself to remain strong and standing in front of her children.
"Thus is the life of a soldier," she had murmured softly. "Tell me, did any survive?"
"Only a few, milady. The others headed to Edoras to inform the king. Lord Eomund fought bravely and saved all whom he could; when he realized we were overwhelmed he called for retreat, to regroup and reattack later. But he himself would not back off until he saw all his men safely on their way, and by then it was too late." A tear slipped down the man's horrible face. "Ma'am, he was the best captain I've ever had for all my years. I want you to know that he died mostly honorably, saving those he could, and taking as many of the devils with him when it was too late."
"Thank you," his mother had replied numbly, as the man had mournfully stumbled to the door.
Neither he nor Eowyn had grasped completely the meaning of the words that day. "But the laughter had shattered from then on, never to return," he realized.
Theodwyn's color never returned to her face after that day. She remained pale and cold, an empty vessel, a shell without a soul. She continued with the daily routines, but joy, smiles, and laughter were gone from their lives.
Before long, she began to waste away. The local wives did what they could, but none could cure Theodwyn's emptiness, her cold fever of the heart. Within only a few months from that shattering message, Eomer and Eowyn became orphans.
'Play' lost all meaning to the children that were forced to grow up too fast. Their uncle, King Theoden, became their kindly father, and their cousin Theodred, thirteen years Eomer's elder, became their protective older brother. From Theodred, Eomer became a master at sword, bow, and lance. Eowyn, too, perfected her skills, frankly becoming a stronger warrior than many of his men. But never again did the children have a mother to care for them, never again did they race through the golden fields laughing and smiling.
"Now to wield a sword rather than a playful stick," Eomer thought sadly. "Now to embody Eored and Orc rather than just imagine it. If only there could have been a few more years of play."
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Several millennia and a billion-light years away, the grim expression of the captain was reflected in the faces of a group of female warriors in a modern city. There were four in total, all little older than the tender age of fifteen. Their faces were weary, dirtied with scars and burns, and their eyes revealed the hazy nightmare of their lives.
"We were too late again," said the blonde as she looked mournfully at the smoking remains of another building. Like the other three, her short fuku was torn and dirtied, destroyed in many areas.
"The Negaverse," said the tall brunette, shaking her fist angrily at the sky. "How many lives? How many more must you take! They are nothing to you!"
"We must continue our search," said the raven-haired female, breathing heavily. "I will consult the fires again…"
"Mars, the fires will show us nothing new! We will never find her! We've been searching for so long, but nothing! Always nothing!"
"Almost three years now," said the blue-haired girl sadly, looking down at her battered computer. "Three years of searching, of battles, of losses, of new youmas…"
"I was proud and even excited to become a Sailor Senshi," remarked the raven-haired girl nostalgically. "But now…"
"Our world is hell," agreed the brunette.
"This whole world is hell," added the blue-clad girl. "The Negaverse rules in all but name. The only one who could save us is the one they want, the one they have also been searching for for years."
"Perhaps we should seek out the other warriors rumored to fight for this city. With only our four, we can win battles. But we cannot win the war."
"Perhaps it would be best to unite," murmured the tall brunette.
"Some speak of other senshi, Uranus and Neptune, though their true intentions do not seem clear," remarked the blue-haired female. "Some even speak in whispers of a Pluto and Saturn."
"And there is Tuxedo Kamen," added the raven-haired senshi.
"Yes, but we know his intentions," said the brunette. "He fights against the youma. But it may be that the Negaverse wants him too. And with every passing day, he grows weaker as the Earth itself wastes away under the darkness."
"Perhaps…" echoed the blonde leader. "What other hope have we in this skeleton of a city, with so few lives left to protect?" The others agreed sadly. "I'll consult with Artemis, and we'll begin our search tomorrow at dawn."
With a final nod of comradeship, the four split into opposite directions and reached safety before the shadows of night could completely claim the city. Not two blocks away, another youma ran amok through the night. Screams and maniacal laughter echoed through the darkness, but the senshi's greatest ally had fled: the sun.
-o-o-o-o-o-o-
Similar shadows began to dance across the black walls of Orthanc as the fading sun slipped below the horizon. As the red orb lowered, darkness soon completely claimed the lands of Isengard. But the wizard was not to be disturbed.
His eyes were unfocused, staring deeply into the black orb on a pedestal, not seeing the world around him. His fingers danced above the sphere as he sought his answers.
"A great war is coming," murmured a strange voice from the back of the wizard's throat. "A war like this land has not yet seen. The Darkness of Many Colors will triumph at last!" (1) His eyelids fluttered shut.
"Perhaps it is best that my mission failed, all those years ago. Orcs, yes master. I sent unperfected orcs on such a grave mission. Surprisingly, they fared rather well. My sources say that they found the child. But they were careless when returning to this world. The stupid creatures were careless when they returned through the door I had created."
A strange laugh echoed through the chamber. "Yes, master, you guess well! It was the baseborn horsemen of course. But this was before they knew that the creatures were mine. They slaughtered them all—none were spared."
The eerie voice returned to a mellow calm. "Yes, perhaps it is best that the child was destroyed. I sensed he would grow to wield strange powers, magicks perhaps beyond control. In our hands, he would have been deadly, but such creations have a bad habit of falling to the wrong sides. He is gone and our enemies have no chance of survival!" A maniacal laughter magnified and reverberated through the chamber. "Through their own slaughter, they wrecked their only hope!"
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Mornie utulie;
Believe and you will find your way
Mornie alantie;
A promise lives within you now
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(1) "Darkness of Many Colors"—in the books, Saruman promotes himself from 'the White' to Saruman of Many Colors. Black signifies Sauron, but it is also a color comprised of many colors. This is my way of alluding to an alliance between Mordor and Isengard.
AN: Who knows what will happen in terms of pairing. There is one that seems to "suggest" itself… but I am thinking that the focus of this fic will not be on the pairing but on friendships and relationships between all the characters.
Much thanks to all the reviewers:
Flame Ivy Moon
Kail Ceannai
Genie05 the second
princess moon shadow
Darkdragonhime
Sulianna
koldy
Seren Lunar Echo
If you have any idea what might be going on, feel free to venture a guess! I want to know how effective my hints have been. ;)
Thank you very much for reading! If you get a chance, please check out my other LotR/SM fics: "Niirer en Ithil'Quessir" and "The Gathering Starlight". Most likely I will force myself to work on other fics before updating this again, gomen. (Especially since I'm not sure where the plot will go in this fic, past a certain point). Thank you and please review!
Ja ne minna!
-Calli-chan