A/n: Thank you for the reviews, and to Sarah, the friendly reminder to update! Lol :o) FYI, some future chapters aren't going the way I want, so I'm rewriting them, but I still have a few chapters till then, so I'll update at about the same pace. Here's a nice long chapter for you all.
Fading Hope
The pain grew too much to bear, and only now was he waking to it. He didn't know when he passed out or how long ago, but he was sorry to see he was still in the same room, with Selanae staring at him cruelly. The creature with the large, hideous mouth stood by her side.
"He awakens," the thing said. Selanae smiled and drew her sword.
Eomer closed his eyes briefly. This wasn't how he wanted to start again. This wasn't how he wanted to see Selanae.
"There's something you should know, Eomer," she said, circling him again. "Especially before we resume our conversation." Her jagged blade poked him, and then traced over his body as she continued pacing around him. "I know your friends are coming. I know they can't be far, and that they seek to destroy Sauron. It really doesn't matter to me if I find out what I want in time or not. But if you cooperate, I will make your existence more tolerable."
Eomer narrowed his eyes at her.
"If you know so much, why bother to interrogate me?" he asked. She stopped, as did the blade over him. He felt the tip dig into him slightly, into his side.
"I want to know their plan," she said. "They cannot hope to defeat Sauron or his army. What advantage do they think they have? Tell me this, Eomer."
Images of the halfings flashed to his mind, and then his sister. EowynHe shut his eyes. She was all he had left that mattered. Survive for her, Eomer. Fight for her. And the Mark.
"I have nothing to tell," he said, opening his eyes to see Selanae standing over him still. Their eyes locked. The determination and evil in her eyes cut him deeply. He'd seen her determination before, but never for such dark purposes. No, she'd only wanted to be free. And he had convinced her to stay and fight for Middle Earth.
And now she does fight, but for dominion and slavery of the free peoples.
Why did I ever meet her, if it was to come to this?
Suddenly he yelped. Her blade cut into his side, slicing it enough to draw blood and pain. His bound hands flew to his side, feeling blood there. Before he could even think of defending himself, Selanae kicked the fresh cut. Eomer bit down on his lip, trying not to make a sound or grant her any satisfaction.
She grabbed him by the ankles and dragged him across the floor. He didn't know why or what was next, but his eyes flew open as he felt his knife in his boot. How could I have forgotten! Not that the blade's presence suddenly gave him the upper hand, but it was better than nothing. He hoped Selanae did not remember it. Yet he felt her fingers press into his ankle, distinctly hitting the blade. He waited for her to be angry at the discovery, but she didn't even blink an eye. She just pressed again into the knife's hilt and moved her hand to grasp his feet better.
Suddenly she swung her weight around and his, sending him sliding again into a pillar. He winced as he hit it, but his mind lingered on his knife.
How did she miss it?
His eyes widened as another possibility came to him, even as she kicked him in the jaw. Blackness and white bursts flashed over his vision. He felt another kick to his side, and yelled out a curse in Rohirric. His sight returned to normal, just in time to see her drop to her knees and land a fist to his shoulder.
Eomer couldn't bite back a scream. His face felt flush and his neck was taut with the tension of agony. All thoughts fled his mind as he solely focused on not screaming again.
"They're here," the hideous mouth said, or something like that. Eomer knew he should listen closely. "I will go out to meet them."
"Wait," Selanae said. She picked up Eomer's armor and tossed it to the thing. "Let them see this."
"He's not needed anymore," the thing said. Eomer watched as Selanae nodded.
"He'll be dead when you return," she said. The words made his heart harden as if being sunk by lead.
The thing glanced at Eomer, though Rohan's king still couldn't determine what served as the thing's eyes. "Are you not fighting?"
Selanae stared at Eomer, a glint in her eyes. "Soon." The creature nodded and left with Eomer's armor.
Eomer swallowed, his throat grating dryly. Selanae stepped towards him, her sword pointed down at him as she neared. She let the blade touch over him lightly, across his stomach and at his hands.
She smiled as she suddenly whipped the blade past his hands and sheathed it. Eomer stared at her, wondering why he felt no pain yet. She held out a hand to him, and that's when he noticed she'd cut his bindings away.
He blinked, and his jaw dropped.
"Hurry, Eomer," she said. Still stunned, he took her hand, and she helped him to his feet. It was the first time since his capture that he'd stood, and almost immediately he began to fall. Selanae quickly grabbed him, steadying him.
"Hold still for a moment," she said, her voice no longer dripping with malice. "Your wounds aren't terribly serious, though I'm sorry I had to do this."
He blinked again, trying to make sense of everything. "It all was an act?" The knife.
She laughed, a melodious sound that almost warmed him. "I thought you would have known for sure after I found the knife in your boot."
Eomer scowled. "I thought maybe so, but I never expected you to be so . . ."
"Evil?" Selanae filled in.
"Violent too," Eomer said. He grimaced as waves of pain went through him.
"Me neither." She left him standing and picked up his sword. "Aragorn needs us. Can you fight?"
Honestly, he did not know. His body ached and he bled from several wounds, most by Selanae's hands. But he took the sword from her.
"Yes."
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The roar was back. Thousands, tens of thousands of orcs, goblins and trolls marched to the Black Gate, which was open. Beyond it, Selanae could see a group of men that was insignificant in comparison.
"I take it they don't plan on winning this fight," she said to Eomer. He shot her a glare.
"It's not about winning," he said grimly. "It's a distraction."
That surprised her, but it made sense. "For the hobbits?" she asked. Eomer nodded. "They were all right a few hours ago."
"You've seen them!"
Selanae grinned.
"Yes. About the same time I saw you," she said. "I figured it would be better for you to be caught than them." He almost glared at her but nodded his agreement. "Sorry."
He shook his head.
"I'll heal," he said, turing his attention to the crowd of enemies ahead. "Just don't be so hard next time."
A shadow flew overhead, and Eomer ducked. Selanae watched the shadow.
"Nazgul," she said without any alarm. The winged beast and the Nazgul circled back to the tower where they stood. "Eomer, give me your sword." He frowned, not understanding. Selanae sighed and just took it from him.
The Nazgul landed in front of the tower, not just one but two of them. Selanae quickly kicked Eomer to the ground. His body hit hard on the rocky ground, and she didn't miss the flash of pain in his eyes. She ignored it for now—she had to. With a sword in either hand, she held both at Eomer's throat.
"Who is this?" the Nazgul hissed in his dead voice. Selanae glared at him, her defiant confidence back.
"The new king of Rohan," she said. "I want them to see his death firsthand." The Nazgul laughed—it came out as an ill squeal—and Selanae pressed the tips of the swords to Eomer's throat. "Stand, Rohan filth."
Eomer's eyes flashed at her, but he stood.
"To the Black Gate," she said. She kept the swords at his throat. They were criss-crossed, and one coordinated movement could easily remove his head. A blade on either side of his neck kept him very limited in movement, but they had no choice. They headed towards the fight, with the two Nazgul again on their beasts, and circling them closely.
Selanae hadn't wanted them to follow, but it seemed they had nothing better to do. One would fly ahead, but the other would stay close, maybe waiting to see Eomer die. It was enough to make her follow the charade.
Eomer walked backwards, his head high and his neck tight as the two blades rested too close for comfort. His eyes bore into her, but Selanae ignored it. At least with him as an apparent hostage, they were not in danger, even as they walked through crowds of orcs and goblins who just ached to get into battle.
They continued forward, until they climbed to the top of the Black Gate. Selanae looked down on the forces of men, struggling to survive against the bountiful forces of Sauron.
Just then, a Nazgul and its beast screamed, making the men below cower. The other Nazgul looked to Selanae.
It was time, or so he thought. Selanae swallowed, and glanced at Eomer.
"Behold your king!" one of the Nazgul hissed. His eerie voice penetrated each man, so much so that the Gondorian soldiers and Rohirrim looked to the top of the gate.
From those forces came a collective gasp.
"Release him!"
Selanae looked down to see the command had come from Aragorn. She almost grinned at seeing him, but could not. Instead, she held the blades high and still in place to kill Eomer.
"Kill him," came a calm hiss from a Nazgul. He sat on the other side of the gate, perched on his beast and eagerly watching.
"No!" came shouts from the men below. Selanae stared at Eomer and his wide brown eyes. He seemed stoic, unwavering, almost overly so. It was defensive. He doesn't trust me.
Not that she blamed him. Still, it hurt her, what she'd done, done to Eomer. And obviously, it still made him wary of her. But there was no way she could kill him, nor did she ever plan to.
Suddenly, Selanae withdrew the blades and spun her body around. She raised her right arm and threw her blade at the sitting Nazgul. The jagged blade sang through the air, and sunk into the Nazgul's dark hole of a face. That tortured scream echoed over the land, and quickly was followed by cheers from the men.
But the enemy was quick to move. The other Nazgul screamed overhead and started to dive for her. Selanae pushed Eomer to the ground. The winged beast was only the width of a blade away from them.
"We need to get off this wall!" Selanae shouted. Eomer grabbed his sword from her, his eyes honing in on the beast as it circled back. It was readying for another dive.
"Quickly!" he said. Eomer put his arms around Selanae and rolled them both over the gate's edge. Air flew by them as they fell to the earth. Selanae braced herself for a terrible impact. The ground grew closer, closer, closer—
Suddenly they hit, but it wasn't the hard ground as she expected. Air rushed by them still, and it was the sound of Eomer laughing that anchored her.
She opened her eyes to see they were on an eagle, the largest she'd ever seen. Selanae glanced at Eomer, who merely grinned.
"Did you plan that?" she asked. Eomer just laughed again.
The eagle swooped around, closer to the ground and over the hordes of orcs fighting.
"Ready?" Eomer asked. His eyes were alight with the thrill of battle, even though Selanae could see the weariness his body exuded. She nodded, and they both dropped down off the eagle's back and landed on some orcs.
Selanae quickly realized she had no sword, hers embedded in a dead Nazgul. But she lashed out a kick and leapt into the air to knock down an orc. She dropped down and broke the thing's neck before she took his sword.
Orcish blades were hardly sophisticated, but they did their job. Selanae swung the blade in the air, turning in circles as she met other foes. The orcs snarled at her and charged. Selanae quickly blocked, again raising her sword high, and then dropped to her knees. She spun on them and thrust her sword into the belly of a goblin.
Something hit her from behind, and Selanae fell on her knees. She made herself fall further, on her stomach, and then rolled to face her foes. Two orcs howled in unison as they swung their blades down on her. It happened slowly in her mind, and for brief moments, she felt the horror of being in danger.
At the last second, she rolled over again and somersaulted forward. But in the process, she dropped her sword. She continued to her feet, only to be surrounded by the enemy.
She wasted no time in launching her own offensive. Selanae held her arms out and twisted around. Her fists and forearms connected with necks and heads, nothing fatal, but enough to protect herself.
It wasn't enough. Suddenly she felt a searing pain in her leg. She bit hard on her lip, and made herself stay standing. An orc kicked her, sending her to the ground. When she looked up, a group of them grinned, relishing her demise.
Selanae drew a slow breath. Her hand stayed over her thigh, the outside below her hip wet with fresh blood. Now what? Her eyes darted for some solution, but even she could see herself beyond disadvantage. It wasn't until two orcs were hewn down that she realized maybe this wasn't the end.
A third orc fell, then a fourth, each roaring out last breaths. But it was the roar from her savior that made Selanae focus. Eomer was there.
He swung his sword mightily, his eyes alight with fury. The speed and strength behind his attacks amazed her, and he didn't seem to tire, even though his left shoulder was near useless.
Suddenly there was another helping, then two or three. Selanae thought she saw Aragorn as well, slashing away at the enemies.
Eomer came into her view. Selanae hadn't tried to get to her feet, though she had more than enough room and opportunity. As he stood over her, he grinned, and gave her his right hand. Selanae took it and got to her feet.
"Thank you," she said, though for more than the help getting up. He nodded with that same grin, which was bordering on arrogance.
"Are you all right?" His eyes flickered to her thigh. Selanae glanced at his side as well.
"Have you seen your reflection lately?" she quipped with a raised eyebrow. Eomer laughed, and grabbed a fallen sword for her.
"Come," he said. "There are plenty of the enemy waiting."
They fought, close to each other and for what seemed like hours. The number of orcs and goblins never seemed to dwindle. Selanae grew weary, and she knew Eomer was suffering as well. All of them were—they were in the fight for their lives. Each blow she blocked made her body vibrate like iron against a bell. Each time she swung her sword, her arms and shoulders screamed for relief.
Things were getting desperate, she knew. The number of men shrank. And when the remaining Nazgul screeched in the skies and took off towards Mt. Doom, Selanae knew something was dreadfully wrong.
It wasn't until those screeches again were heard that she realized things had changed in their favor. All the men, orcs, goblins, trolls, and even one woman stared at Mordor as the Great Eye bulged. The dark tower started to rumble, and suddenly a huge wave of destruction swept over it and Mordor. It traveled over the land and those fighting, shaking them.
And as it passed through Selanae, she felt the most indescribable agony. Her mind screamed in torment, and her head throbbed. It brought her to her knees. She couldn't tell if the screaming was just in her mind, or if she was screaming aloud as well. But soon a black curtain fell over her consciousness.
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Eomer had his doubts about Middle Earth surviving this war. But he yelled out excitedly when the tower fell. As Mordor crumbled before his eyes, any elation he felt died quickly.
Across from him, Selanae screamed, her hands outstretched as if she were frozen. She fell to her knees. Her face was twisted in such raw and primal torture that Eomer could only stare. It was only when she fell unconscious that he found his legs worked.
He ran to her, yelling her name.