Chapter 10

This is a collaborative effort of a whole bunch of us - me, Elanor, Finrod, Gilrean, Holly, Lana, Nimbrethil, Witch King and Wizard. Other than the respective characters ie. me (Laurendil, Mas); Elanor (Elanor, Haldarin), Gilrean (Gilrean), Holly (Holly), Lana (Lena), Nimbrethil (Nimbrethil), Witch King (Beomir) and Wizard (Wizard), we do not own any of the other great Tolkien works. This was originally an RPG we played and have put together as a story. Hope you enjoy it.

"What puts you in such a fine mood? We are expecting an attack of the Orcs, and that young boy just rode out to certain death!" exclaimed Laurendil in exasperation at Finrod, her eyes flashing. If she thought that would make him more serious, it proved wrong. Instead, his grin got wider and she could have sworn that he would have burst out laughing if he wasn't holding it all in.

"Exactly! I have been waiting for a decent battle for millenniums! And these Orcs, excuse me, are nothing compared to Sauron," Finrod said nonchantly, "And don't worry about the young human. He'll be alright. After all, his mother was the one who slayed the Witch King."

He unsheathed his sword and looked at it lovingly, "If you ask me, this party gets better and better." Laurendil watched him as he admired and stroked his sword, and sighed as he sheathed it back into his scabbard. This must wait...arrows first, he thought and grinned at Laurendil. "I'll go and accompany Aragorn".

Laurendil just stood there, watching him go with her mouth slightly agape. He was actually happy … and he was actually whistling!!

Men!

Laurendil gritted her teeth. All throughout history, they've always loved fighting. Or find an excuse to fight even more, even pretending or saying that it was all for honour. Hah. Laurendil hated war. Hated fighting. Hated the sufferings that caused it. Hated anything that had anything to do with fighting. What IS with Men and this stupid honour to uphold and and … there is NOTHING .. nothing to be gained at all … the stupid House of Fëanor with their stupid Oath … Laurendil stopped a moment, her eyes misting with tears as it always did whenever she thought of her mother … her mother who had suffered so much because of that Oath ... almost as much as her father did.

Laurendil shook herself out of her thoughts. But Finrod was right about one thing at least. With his skills, and the Fellowship ... what's a few bunch of Orcs? Laurendil could even hear Gimli and Legolas starting that count of theirs again. She sighed, heading to the top to join the rest of the archers.

The Orcs were now in site, just over the hill. There were many more out of sight. The elves could almost smell them now. From the other direction, in rode the Gondorian rider with Eowyn. Somehow, they had survived. They were both a little shaken, but were both feeling physically fine. Eowyn went inside and the dark rider stayed out. The Orcs were chanting now – apparently, there were more than they had thought.

Nimbrethil ran as fast as she could the the store house. She grabbed her bow and her long knife. She strapped on what little armour she had. "I never thought I'd have to fight Orcs in Rivendell!" she mumbled to herself. She then ran outside to join Legolas and Gilrean with the Archers above.

"Now, Gilmi, how about a little game, for old times sake?" Legolas said with a smile as he turned to his old friend.

The dwarf grinned in return and growled in reply as he raised his axe, "Okay, pointy-ears, but I can still out score you!"

Gilrean took a deep breath as she readied herself, stringing a silver arrow to her golden bow. The Orcs were now very close and she surveyed the numbers in front of her. Nimbrethil came up beside her and patted her on the shoulder.

"This may be the last battle we ever have to fight," Nimbrethil began and Gilrean looked at her sister as she continued, "Let's make it good!"

For a moment, Gilrean felt fear striking her heart. This was a battle, and in every battle there is death. She looked at everyone around her … would all of them still remain tomorrow? It was hard to imagine the seriousness of the situation, though, with Legolas and Gimli arguing about who would get the most count. And among this contrast of situation, who should approach but Finrod, who was humming some old tune and playing with the string of his bow.

"You are going to compete who slays more Orcs?" asked Finrod with a huge grin on his face. He laughed, and swinging his bow across his shoulder, grabbed Legolas's and Gimli's shoulder as he shouted, "That's the spirit! I would join in, but it seems to be a little something you two have been doing for a long time ... wouldn't want to interrupt." He winked at them and his eyesbrows raised a little as he spotted Nimberthil, giving her an admiring glance.

"You look as one of the Noldor and yet you are a Sindarin elf," said Finrod appraisingly, "I am looking forward to fight alongside you. This place will not be overrun … " His voice then lowered and was mingled with sudden sadness as his eyes got a far away look for a moment.

Legolas and Nimbrethil exchanged glances. If anybody at all had a reason to hate Orcs more than anything else then it was Finrod, once a mighty king. Except for maybe Laurendil, who always seemed to have her hackles raised when Orcs were mentioned – but she kept her secret to herself. Everybody's thoughts then turned to Laurendil, who was a few distance away from them, talking with Faramir and Aragorn about what the best strategy for defense was. Although they disagreed on a few things, they finally came to a consensus after a few minutes.

While all of this activity was going on, no one really noticed a lone, hesitant figure who was wringing her hands and looking around her. It was Holly, and she was very confused … and scared. Orcs? A real battle? She didn't know what to do. She had only heard tales of this fearsome race and of the War of the Rings – everyone seemed so busy and knew what to do. But she didn't. She looked around her desperately, and was greatly relieved to see familiar faces: Laurendil, Faramir and Aragorn.

Holly could tell that they were in the middle of a very important conversation, so she stood out of the way and waited until they were done. She couldn't help but overhear their conversation and was afraid of all that needed to be done. She could not help a gasp that escaped her lips and everyone looked at her direction, making her feel extremely uncomfortable. Faramir was the one that looked most displeased, however, for he disliked it when anyone listens in without invitation. He gave her a glare that would discourage anyone, and Holly stepped back in fear, not knowing what else to do. Laurendil noticed this and touched Faramir's shoulder, saying something softly to him and he grumbled something in return but he did not look upon Holly again. To which, she was relieved and felt slightly better until a call came through the air.

"Naur!" an elven archer called from above. The first wave of Orcs had advanced.

Everyone stopped what they were doing and peered into the darkness. "The Orcs are almost upon us. The first principle of warfare is that the army with the highter ground has the advantage," stated Aragorn, "The Orcs now have that advantage. They have us trapped!" he said in exasperation.

"They mean to flood down the steep walls of the valley and knock us downward. We must lure them into the valley first, while we ourselves take to the high ground," said Faramir.

"Yes, I agree. But how? There is no time!" Laurendil asked.

"Legolas, Gilrean and I will take a small band of soldiers. We will hold them at bay while you ready yourselves above," said a voice from behind them. It was Nimbrethil. "The Orcs are not known for their intelligence. They will follow us, thinking we are easy kill."

"Almost like … A DIVERSION!!" exclaimed Legolas with a knowing grin.

"Yes, Legolas. A diversion. We must trap THEM in the valley. Once we have them there, the rest of the forces must sweep down on them, taking them by surprise." stated Nimbrethil.

"What you propose is dangerous, my Lady. There is little chance of your escape," said Aragorn.

"I see no other way," replied Nimbrethil, calm and ready. She did not fear death. Gilrean and Legolas were standing beside her, ready to go as well, their faces determined.

Aragorn was silent for a moment and nodded. He then turned to Lena, who was standing nearby, seemingly bored. "Well, aren't you going to help?" he asked.

Lena looked at him unblinkingly and said "No, I don't think so. You seem to have it under control."

Faramir looked upon Lena, and asked Aragorn, "Why are you asking her? She's no more than a thief, and would hardly be interested in matters like this.

Lena glared at Faramir and made a very rude gesture. Aragorn ignored both and asked Lena again, "Why aren't you going to help?"

Lena just sighed as she fingered her weapons, explaining, "I tried to tell you about this earlier, but you didn't want to prolong the feast. So now there is this great commotion and battle ahead – and I don't feel the least bit sorry. Or do I need to help."

"You mean you knew about this?" Gimli growled, "How?"

Lena rolled her eyes upwards and said slowly, as if talking to a young boy, "I am a thief, remember? And I keep my informants' secrets." Turning to Aragorn, she sniffed, "But if you really want help, fine, I'll fight – but you better be ready to face the original white wizard."

Laurendil's head jerked up at this and she looked upon Lena intensely, "What 'White Wizard?"

Lena simply smiled coyly as she answered before disappearing into the shadows, "You shall see."

"There is no time for this now," muttered Aragorn, as each of them tried to decipher Lena's cryptic words. Just then, a voice broke into the air.

"I will fight with you, Lady Nimbrethil, if you will have me."

Everyone turned towards the voice. It was the young Gondorian boy. Faramir's expression turned to worry as he said firmly, "No son, it is too dangerous. I cannot allow it."

The young man looked steadily at his father, straight into his eyes as he said firmly, "Father, I am no longer a boy. I am ready to be tested in battle."

In his heart, Faramir knew he was right. He battled against his own heart and finally said, "Very well. Then I will go also."

"And I," said Aragorn.

This time, it was Laurendil who protested, "But you cannot, my Lord! It is almost certain death! The people need their King!"

Aragorn acknowledged this, but he held Laurendil's hand as he said, "I cannot back away from danger. My people are in danger. I must fight. It is you, Laurendil, who must lead the attack from above. I trust only you to do this."

Laurendil was about to protest but seeing the determined look in his eyes and the set stance of his body, Laurendil knew that nothing could be said to dissuade Aragorn. She nodded, and watched as the five of them set off: Aragorn, Legolas, Nimbrethil, Faramir and his son – the young knight of Gondor whom she had never found out the name. Just then, Finrod got up and joined them, whistling a tune as he did so. Laurendil rolled her eyes upwards and shaking her head, set off to do what needed to be done.

Each of them were silent as they mounted on their horses and began to ride toward the gate. They drew their swords. Aragorn had a look of grim anger on his face as the gates slowly opened, letting them through. They had barely exited when they began to slay Orcs left and right, trying to push them into the valley. The fighting was intense. Soon, the riders and their horses were full of sweat and blood as they continued to hack their way through.

Just then, an Orc raised his bow in the direction of Aragorn. Everyone was busy with the Orcs around them that this was not seen – except by the son of Faramir. He knew that there would not be enough time to warn Aragorn, so on instinct, he pushed himself up on his horse, and jumping, knocked Aragorn off his horse. The arrow sailed right where the King would have been if he had not been tackled off his horse. The others, not noticing, rode on, leaving the two behind.

Nimbrethil was among the first in front, and as she rode, her heart was pounding in her chest. She kept to her horse, slaying as many Orcs as she saw. She barely noticed Finrod and Gilrean next to her, who were a force to be reckoned with. She just looked up when she noticed that Legolas had been knocked off his horse and was surrounded. Without further thought, Nimbrethil rode toward him, killing as she went. When she reached him, she leapt off Luinil and stood beside him, fighting off the Orcs.

"How many are you on?" Nimbrethil asked Legolas.

"About eighteen, I think!" He smiled, ducking and killing Orcs as they came.

Naur: Fire