Well… let's see if I can manage another 2,000 words. Hopefully right? I really really want to post the ending I've written so I suppose I'll just have to get moving and write the chapters that happen in between now won't I?
Disclaimer: Um yeah, I own nothing, as is probably by this point apparent.
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Legolas pulled his horse up short just before the edge of the hilly country. The Uruk-hai had not been able to catch him thus far. But as soon as he left the hills it would be easy to follow his trail and in turn to see him. There would be no more cover between here and his destination.
He gripped the reigns more tightly, steeling himself. His recent wounds were already aching; it would be a long ride. But Gimli and Inara were counting on him. He had failed them once already; he would not fail a second time.
As the elf spurred his horse racing out onto the still plains from the shadow of the hills dark shadows watched his progress. Small eyes picked out by the moonlight kept pace with him as he rode. The stillness held for a moment longer before one of the shadowy figures reached up and they broke away from the concealment of the hills following the elf out onto the seemingly endless plains.
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Gimli cursed as he made his way through the darkened passages within the small village. He did not know where he would find the courage to face her. Around him the thick walls seemed to tremble as people pushed past him, hurrying to finish their preparations while even now they could hear the muffled roar of Uruk-hai as they marched, each moment bringing them closer.
He reached out to touch the heavy door, taking a final breath before pushing it open. She sat across the room from him, face turned away. At the sound of his entrance she reached out for him.
Gimli's voice caught in his throat. He could not even remember what he had tried to think of to say. He had failed her and now the Uruks that had pursued them so long were here and there was no time left at all.
But Inara continued to reach for him until she found what she sought. Getting to her feet her hand followed his arm up until she could touch his face. She flinched away at the same moment he did as her hand touched the dampness on his face.
A sort of quiet sad smile touched her mouth. She reached out again, her hand tightening on his arm.
"I trust you Gimli, you have not yet failed. You will bring my son back to me."
The dwarf simply stood there, frozen. She wrapped her arms around him, resting her head against his shoulder. The two stood quietly as the storm broke around them and the world rushed in.
Her fingers tightened on his shoulders as the door opened. Gimli did not need to turn to know the man was armed. The silence stretched for a long moment before he spoke.
His voice was not its usual loud roar. Instead it was quiet. He knew why this man had come. Though he did not know his face or even his name he could guess his purpose. They had not had much time but it seemed that things were finally coming to an end though for what purpose he still had not determined.
"And what is it that you want?" he asked without turning, the formalities should be followed at least.
"Lady Marja requests that you join her at the walls. There is…something she wants you to see." Gimli could hear the fear in his voice. A smile tugged at his lips. It was not so long ago that he had stood with men such as these, facing a battle that was not so different. He hoped that its end would not be so different as well.
He reached down, careful not to dislodge Inara's grip on his shoulder and hefted his axe. He touched her fingers gently with his free hand.
"I will keep this promise." Then he slipped free turning to follow the man from the room.
Inara waited until the door closed behind them and their footsteps faded into the distance. Her fingers curled into a fist and she slammed it against the rough stone of the wall.
She could not just stand to wait here. Her son remained a prisoner of the Uruk-hai scum who had so long pursued them and outside the one she cared about most prepared for a battle they were almost certain to lose.
She would not remain here; she would not allow her battles to be fought for her. The last time…the last time she had been left alone. She furiously wiped at the dampness that appeared on her cheeks. This time it would be different, her fingers tightened on the blades she wore even now thrust through the wide belt she had acquired since arriving in the village.
Her fingers uncurled and she traced the edge of the bench to where it met the wall, slowly getting to her feet. She carefully made her way towards the door, her hand tracing the edge of the wall.
She had not survived the past year alone by naught but luck. Her free hand went again to touch the blades sheathed at her waist. No, this time it was her turn to fight. She had spent enough time mourning what she could not change. It was time to do something about that which she could.
Gimli trudged up the stairs behind the taller man taking in the view as he cleared the final step. Arrayed before them was a mob, not an army perhaps but not far short. Their lines were ragged but they stood ready.
To his left Marja stood leaning against the ancient crumbling walls of her village. Strangely he saw no trace of fear in either her eyes or her stance. It was as if it had been burned away in a single consuming drive. But he remembered her eyes as she held the body of her husband, the man she had killed. Perhaps it was not such a surprising thing after all.
"They are massing both to the north and to the west. It will not be long now. I expect they will attack the front gate and here where the wall is weak."
Gimli came to stand beside the young woman, "How do you know of warfare, lady? I would not have thought that a common pursuit among noblewomen."
Her smile was empty as she answered, "My family remembers the past, even in its details, and you will find Master dwarf that one battle much resembles another as the time becomes the past. There is not so much originality in war as the songs would have you believe."
Gimli snorted, "That may be but war is entirely different thing than you would think until you experience it. Do not rely too much on your stories. It is a far more terrible thing than any tale could describe."
Marja's voice was quiet, so much so only his ears along caught her words, "Perhaps it is, but my husband lies dead by my hand and my village will shortly follow if I do not at least make the attempt. I have neither time nor the capability to allow fear at this moment. Someday this too will become part of the great history of our world, but now though it remains undecided; it already takes on the guise of so many conflicts before it. There will always be those who wish for change but each fresh change is only the past powers in a new guise. So I will allow my stories and tales to be my guide for I know naught else which might serve."
As she finished speaking as if on cue the mob on either side of the village began to move. They did not march as soldiers but it would not be long before the rabble reached the walls.
"I hope they guide you well lady for we have no time now to seek another course." Gimli said before turning to call out commands to the frightened villagers and few soldiers who manned the crumbling walls.
A slight sound behind him made him turn. His eyes widened in surprise as he saw Inara standing at the head of the stairs that led back down from the wall. Her hand reached out, coming in contact with his face.
"I am stronger than you think." She smiled, and in that smile Gimli could see both the sorrow and fear that he knew tore at her even now, but also the strength that was part of the reason he loved her, a strength that would not allow her to stay safely protected while others fought this battle.
She reached out with her other hand until she found Marja's shoulder, "Milady, I ask that you would allow me to fight as well."
Marja opened her mouth, and then closed it. She wanted to tell the other young woman to stay where it was safe and ask her what it was she thought she could do. But her eyes went to the blades Inara wore at her waist and the words whispered in the corners when she passed or the doubts of her father even as he lay on his deathbed echoed in her ears. She took a deep breath, "I would be grateful for your aid, Inara."
Inara bowed carefully, "My thanks."
And with those words the three turned to ready the village for the battle that was unfolding around them.
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The elf's breath came fast and sharp as he spurred the horse to greater speeds. On either side dark shapes loped behind him. He had neither time nor desire to fight them, whatever they were. But he was not yet near safety and even now the dark shapes continued to gain on him
His hand went down, loosening his swords in their sheathes. He may not want a fight but if it came to one he would be sure it was his enemies who regretted its outcome. He could feel his horse tiring. All around him stretched the empty plains that made up so much of Rhohan.
Carefully he released the reigns, gripping the horse with his legs as he reached for his bow. There was no reason not too even the fight a bit first though. He turned carefully, fitting an arrow to the string.
When he released the arrow leapt forward, racing back across the grasslands to strike one of the pursuing shadows. It screeched, veering off to one side before tumbling to a stop. Legolas frowned, even now he could not identify what it was that followed him.
Even as he thought this though his fingers were already fitting a second arrow to his bow. There was no time for such considerations. Whatever they were they certainly were not friends and it seemed if he was going to reach the King in time they would have to be eliminated.
As he raised his bow his horse stumbled, pitching forward. Legolas tumbled to the ground, careful not to catch the sharp point of the arrow on either himself or the downed horse.
He rolled to his feet, stumbling as a sharp pain pulled at his side. It seemed he had not managed the fall quite as well as he had hoped. But he straightened awkwardly raising his bow before him.
His hands barely shook as he gritted his teeth, fitting the arrow once again to the bow string. From both sides the dark shadows rushed closer, gleaming eyes once again picked out by the moon's failing light.
As it drifted behind a cloud the moon allowed one last look at the lone elf standing before his downed horse, bow raised even as the dark shadows swept up and over the grassy plains.
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You have no idea how exciting it was to finish this chapter; it's been in progress for quite awhile! And it means we're getting close to the end now!
Sorry about being so slow! But summer's coming soon so that means I'll have more time and will hopefully be able to actually update!
Zammy: Thanks! I'll be trying to update soon. I really do want to post the end I've written so there's motivation to keep going.
Swasti: Yeah, sorry about being slow. I always intend not to and before I realize it a whole bunch of time has gone past. sigh But I will finish. Don't worry!
Star-Stallion: I'm so glad you've stuck with this the whole way! Thank you so much! I'm sorry about my spelling mistakes. I hope I've done better this time around.
anonymous: I'm very impressed. I didn't think anyone liked it that much, and I wasn't actually sure if anyone was even reading it at this point. So I guess this chapter will be dedicated to you (if of course you're still reading, but it sounded like you will be) and I hope to be able to do better with the whole updates thing!
