The Battle for Earth (Part four)

Commander Éowyn Calthye – 7/14/2025

I cried out as I slipped on a damp stone, and found myself hitting the ground face first, a practice blade too quickly at the back of my neck to react. The fall had been too quick to react to, anyway, and I mentally grumbled about the state my clothing would be in the next day. Or the next minute, if I was able to stand up by that point.

"You've got to watch your timing—keep an eye on me, and not what I'm doing."

"Easy for you to say," I spat through the earthy flavor of swamp muck that had made it into my mouth. "You're Force-sensitive, Skywalker." I couldn't help but growling it at him as he took the blade away and aided me to my feet.

At full height; though I was slouching somewhat from the fall, Anakin Skywalker was over a foot taller than I was. I couldn't help the vertically challenged manner that I lived in. It wasn't like I had a choice, or anything. Besides, five foot, two inches isn't really that short. It's only short enough that you can sneak into things unnoticed.

He had already retrieved my blade using the Force. I insisted on using a sword rather than a gun. I didn't want to shoot people from a distance. I figured if I had to kill the agents of evil—Sauron's creatures—I was going to kill them up close and personal. They'd feel every bit of pain, and know exactly who it was that killed them.

I think Jandalf was out on patrol at the moment, and Dûncariel had gone on retrieval, or something. Maeggaladiel wasn't suited for that—who'd take a nearsighted elf seriously, after all?—and I just wasn't the right type of person. Besides, everyone seems to think I carry Anakin on some sort of leash.

Maybe I do. I'm the only one who can keep him from the Dark Side, after all.

Our commander, Warious, thinks the two Jedi should turn. I disagree, though. And I've been vocal about it too. To use powers that the enemy doesn't have, and use them for evil—it's just really not right. They have magic, so it doesn't seem to matter as much that we make use of the Force—at least, Anakin and Kenobi do—but…

There's no greater weapon than to turn the enemies strength against them. I've been working on that myself—the idea of infiltration. If we could discover a weakness in their strength... turn them against themselves or something…

I have a plan, but it's a fool's plan. No one would agree to it.

But, at the moment, if Anakin were to turn, it would put a kink into everything I try to come up with. I'm the one who's spent so long examining everything that comes through to find what the problem with the enemy is, anyway. There must be a way to destroy the Ring! There must!

Anakin's low voice cut into my thoughts. "…Can't help the Force-sensitivity. I was born with it."

"I know," I grumbled. "But it's not fair that Terrans and Middle-earthians should have to sit and do nothing while you two get to have all the fun. Not that it's fun." I cut him off before he could protest.

"I still think it would be easier if we could just reach out and strangle them," Anakin muttered in Huttese.

I learned Huttese for the sake of it, though I had reason enough to want to be able to understand him when he got in a mood. I glared at him. "I've told you more than once how stupid that would be. I know our commander loves the idea of everyone turning Dark, but then we're just on the same level as them. Mind-tricking is one thing, using lightning to wipe out an army is another! I damn well don't need you joining them." I mentally added yet. So I have a lot of plans.

"Watch your mouth!" he snapped at me.

"Watch yours! I won't swear if you'll stop talking about turning to the Darkside!"

"Éowyn…"

"What?" I couldn't help the angered tone. Spending months on a hopeless battle, spending all spare time I had attempting to learn to fight better… (After I had my left hand cut off in a battle with my failing division, I swore I'd learn to defend myself. After I recovered, that was. It took a while, and a false hand.) It was very hard on the personality.

He didn't say anything, just handed me back my sword, and gave an impish grin.

"Next you're going to be saying that we should be taking the Ring and using it against them," I muttered.

"That's not a bad idea…"

I slapped him playfully with the blunt edge of the sword, though he ducked it and was only lightly hit on the rebound.

"What, are you trying to kill me?" he asked, parrying my next blow lightly. "After all that work saving my life…"

"I know I owe you a lifedebt several times over." I sighed, and ran a finger through light brown hair. It was caked with greenish mud, as were my robes. I had taken to wearing full robes—very similar to the Jedi robes, in color and in style—with green garments underneath. I wore no armor beyond gauntlets. I liked to use a bow once in a while.

He smiled weakly. "And I you."

"That really wasn't the point, was it?"

"No, not really."

"We should probably finish up."

"We finished up when I knocked you into the mud."

I glared at him again, mild fury in almost black eyes.

"The color looks good on you!" he said in attempt to amend his previous actions.

I scooped up a ball of the muck and hurled it at him. He caught the glimmer in the Force, and ducked, but it was still very satisfying to see it splatter into many glops on a tree. "If only I could just do that to the ring, or to Sauron's head," I said, dryly.

"And you're against the idea of the Darkside!" He sounded somewhat incredulous.

"Yes! Because if I let you turn, you'll never ever see me again!"

"Aww… but the Darkside believes in passion."

"Bah. You believe in love as it is, Skywalker."

He grinned down at me. "Perhaps."

"Bah."

He brushed my hair back. "Oh, bah yourself. Come on, let's go."

I don't know if I was disappointed in the encounter or not. We will win this war.

A/n: Thank you to Éowyn Skywalker for writing this chapter. And to Dûncariel for writing the last chapter. I forgot to mention it. Sorry.

REVIEW US!