'…I'm frightened by what I see
but somehow I know that there's much more to come
immobilised by my fear
and soon to be blinded by tears
I can stop the pain if I will it all away
don't turn away
don't give in to the pain
don't try to hide
though they're screaming your name
don't close your eyes
God knows what lies behind them
don't turn out the light
never sleep never die…'
Evanescence Whisper
Chapter 16: Rain
It had to be him; there was no mistaking it. And besides, who else could it be? Almost all the survivors were holed up in the back of the fortress. I could feel the adrenaline and relief flood through me, tingling at my fingertips. After a second of chest-tightening indecision, I acted, throwing myself from the wall and practically sprinting down the steps, narrowly avoiding the gaggles of townspeople as they watched, bewildered. One older man looked around, a glint of fear in his eyes. I concluded that he must have thought I'd seen an enemy, but I didn't have time to correct him. I was on auto pilot, flying through the stone valleys and watching as my feet took a detour to the makeshift stables.
"M'lad—" The stable hand started, but stopped, sensing my urgency. He opened his mouth again, presumably to point out my mare, but I silenced him by instead calling her name as I slowed to a jog. Túlka obediently trotted out, chewing uncomfortably at the too small bit that was swimming in her mouth. She sped up slightly, and as she neared me I turned, mounting her with ease as she cantered past. Without a glance to the stable hand, I was off.
The gates were opened slightly, ready to be shut and barred at a moment's notice. I picked my way through the small crowd that was assembled, ignoring them completely, and was through the gates.
There he was, slumped in the saddle of the majestic black-brown horse. He was still a way off but even so by now the watch would have spotted something resembling a man on a horse. I could see him clearly enough to know for sure that this was the man whom I had saw with my own eyes tumble off the cliff, taking the warg with him. The creature was half-walking, half-trotting, slowly making its way forward so as not to throw off his rider, who was still weak.
Aragorn's head lifted slightly, and he half-opened his eyes at the thundering of Túlka's hooves. They opened all the way when he caught sight of me, barely masking my relief at his appearance. I soon reached him, half way to the gates already. I didn't know why I had actually come out of the fortress, now that I had control of my body again. Now that I saw him, he wasn't at death's door, as I'd expected, apart from some scars and non-mortal wounds, there was nothing serious. But fatigue was evident in everything, the diminished glow in his eyes, his posture, his mouth open slightly, even his breathing was irregular and forced.
I reached out with one hand to steady him as he veered dangerously to the left. I didn't know what else to do, so I carefully nudged the horse – I recognised it, but the name escaped me – into a slow canter, holding onto the ranger's arm to prevent him from falling off altogether. I knew better than to try anything else, he was injured and needed some attention soon, but I would not do anything to damage his pride. He was the future king of men. The last hope. It was almost too much to believe again the fairytale ending that I had started to consider before as I watched him now, eyes shut in an attempt to conserve energy. It may hurt him to go faster, but not as much as seeing him ambling along slowly would hurt the people's trust.
As we neared the gates, he shrugged me off – but not in a rude way – and took hold of the reigns himself. I understood perfectly. He didn't try to explain to me because he knew that I understood perfectly. If the people saw him cantering in triumphantly, despite his wounds and all evidence of his death, it would send morale soaring. Something the elderly mercenaries desperately needed. I took backseat as he rode in front. Already I could hear the murmurs, whispers, unbelieving gasps.
He couldn't be alive, could he?
He fell, off that cliff, didn't he?
At least, that's what I heard, how come he's here then?
Don't ask me, I don't know anything about it.
He certainly looks like him, though…
The threads of conversation were shattered as a voice only describable as 'gruff' forced its way through the crowd.
"Where is he? Where is he? Get out of the way! I'm gonna kill him!" The Dwarf's face flushed with relief as he entered the clearing. I had dismounted to give some focus to Aragorn, beckoning to the stable hand to take my horse back to the stables yet again. Aragorn then dismounted as Gimli carried on. "You are the…the luckiest, the trickiest…And the most reckless man I ever knew." He enveloped Aragorn's waist in a hug. "Bless you, laddie!" They broke apart, Gimli's neck strained upwards.
"Where is the king?" Aragorn asked. He looked uneasy, almost frightened. Of what, I couldn't be sure. Gimli nodded towards the doors at the back, and Aragorn strode purposely to the inner sanctum. Not wishing to see the happy and tearful reunions, I decided to retreat to the armoury below, intent on servicing my long neglected weapons. Unfortunately, this was not to be. Aragorn called my name as he saw me sidle away. I turned my head and he beckoned to me with a nod. "Come, I have some news to tell the king which I want you to hear also." I blinked. Strange, what could he know that concerned me?
I followed him up the steps and stopped myself from rolling my eyes at his dramatic and heroic entrance. After all, he probably didn't mean to be so dramatic. It came with the job description, after all. Heroes had to be a little dramatic at least. Nothing of the sort for me. I was no heroine, I had never done anything that even resembled posing – on purpose, anyway – there was, after all, little point in such things. Dramatics and posing only served to make people admire and women swoon. And I certainly had no desires to have any women swooning over me any time soon.
'Ten thousand strong.' The words still echoed in my mind as I sat, running a cloth over the surface of an ornate scabbard. We had, what, two hundred, maybe three hundred warriors left? Against ten thousand? Every single odd was already against us. This only served to make my chest contract with a foreign feeling that I quickly identified as utter woe. I had gone into battle fully prepared to loose, to die before.
But this…this was a fairytale situation that even the bravest knight in the shiniest armour on the whitest horse possible wouldn't be able to face without some measure of fear. Wait, make that complete terror. It was a fact now, burning in my mind.
We were all going to die.
Hurrah.
By now I could just as easily be sailing along happily, the wind flinging salt water in my face as I made for the Undying Lands. I could still do it. I could rush to the stables for the second time today, mount my beloved horse, and leave. I could be at the shore in a matter of days, I could even go to the Grey Havens, set sail with other elves at the Gulf of Lhûn. Pass through the Shire one last time. The Blue Mountains, Ered Luin, Mithland, Tower Hills. And then I could leave. Escape all responsibility.
I felt disgusted with myself for finding the prospect attractive. How could I leave? Now? As the Uruk-Hai closed in on the people on Rohan? How could I leave them to die, to be slaughtered, knowing I could have done the right thing and stayed? There and then I made a lasting decision to remain and be killed. I would fight with every breath in my body, and I would die with a smile on my face, knowing that I had at least given everything I had to try and avert the doom of men.
The metal shimmered with a faint coloured light. The threads of engravings broadcasting the scabbard's worth. I'd almost forgotten about Luccrecía. She sat, almost neglected in the sheathe. It had been too long since I'd wielded her, and inside I hoped that I never needed to. The hidden power in the runes flowed through my veins as I caressed the hilt. There was an impressive-sounding noise of metal against metal, and with a subtle flourish, she was pulled out to greet the afternoon air in to armoury. There was no one else here; otherwise I doubt I would have unsheathed her at all.
If the scabbard was pleasing to the eye, the blade itself was a vision to behold. It was a light silver in colour, but one could just make out the sheen of somewhere between white light and sapphire as it moved with a barely audible swish. The kind of metal was unknown, although for something to survive for well over three thousand years with not even a mark or dent on it, it must be quite valuable. Runes were visible on the sword in the right light, their meaning long forgotten to the years. Another oddity. Along the length of the blade were about eight or so arrow shaped chevrons, all the same size and distance apart, pointing to the finely sharpened tip. Most, if not all that looked upon the strange markings would conclude that it was simply a style, a smith's mark, a trend of the times. However, the secret did not go unknown to me.
I prayed I would not be forced to use it. Even though I knew I probably would.
"Luccrecía?" The clear Elven voice drifted towards my ears. I nodded.
"Yes, a sight, is she not?" I hoped he would not ask to hold her, it was a strange way to put it, and hard to explain, but Luccrecía didn't like being held by others. She rejected them, the blade refused to do the owners bidding. Becoming heavy and sluggish in their hands, impossible to handle and even more impossible to use effectively.
To me, however, she was the ultimate sword. Light, yet with a certain brute strength, sharp as a blade ten times as slim, and on top of that, she seemed to move with me. She melded into my hand, did what I wanted without my brain even registering it. How difficult would that be to explain to an Elven prince?
"Beautiful." He agreed, walking closer, eyes running along her length. "A truly magnificent blade." I nodded again.
"Something amiss?" I asked, changing the subject briskly.
"Apart from the entire situation, no I don't believe so." What was this? The prince of Mirkwood attempting to crack a joke? Incredible. But then again, desperation does that to you.
"Then why did you come here? I know for a fact that I'm not very agreeable company." He shook his head slightly, as if to shrug off my remark.
"I find you are far better company than the endless parade of quivering soldiers with about an hour's battle experience." I agreed whole heartily with this point of view of course.
"I suppose so. It can be a little boring, even frustrating at times watching these 'men' fight, and fighting alongside them." I made sure the inverted commas were audible. "Once they get over the initial shock of, well, me, some of them even have the nerve to suggest that I stay at the back, out of harm's way." I laughed humourlessly. He picked up where I was heading.
"Of course, if only they knew that there isn't a single person in this fortress you couldn't beat single-handedly." He paused, a smirk working it's way onto his usually sombre face. "Except for me obviously." My head shot up.
"Excuse me? Are you saying you could best me in combat?"
"Well, I should have thought as much would be rather comprehensible to a woman of your intelligence." I sat there, polishing cloth poised in mid-air, my mouth open slightly. 'oh dear…if only he knew just how deep his little hole is getting…"
"Pardon me, it seems my terribly disadvantaged human, nay, female brain is struggling to comprehend this new turn of events…are you challenging me? Because if you are, I'd be more than happy to oblige." And then as an afterthought: "You have siblings, don't you? Because I'd hate to see the throne of Mirkwood without an heir at a time like this…"
"I am indeed challenging you, if that is what you wish. Perhaps if we make it through the night I shall show you just how deadly formal training can be."
"Ooh, formal training, is it? I'm looking forward to this already." I grinned, my selective hearing blocking out the 'if we make it through the night' part. "And in turn I shall show just how much skills can improve over three thousand years of non-stop fighting for survival, your highness." I was on my feat by then, and swept my arm around in an extravagant bow.
It was at that exact moment, the elf's lips poised for a comeback, that the two sets of doors opened and the fighting population of Rohan swept in. I took off to a corner, not wishing to witness the inexpert manhandling of innocent swords that deserved no such fate.
"Farmer, fairies, stable boys." I could hear Aragorn's low voice over the gentle hum of uncertain conversation as he walked forward. He looked better now, rested slightly, the fatigue had left his eyes, his wounds had been healed, and he was ready for battle. "These are no soldiers."
"Most have seen too many winters." Gimli added, looking around him.
"Or too few." Legolas quickly followed up. I turned to look at him. In those overly large cerulean eyes, I could see the carefully masked layer of what could have been disgust, pity, or even plain annoyance at the incompetence of the army. "Look at them. They're frightened. I can see it in their eyes." Now that got me. It was perfectly true, every word, but it was one of those things that were better left unsaid. The hum of background noise stopped as the makeshift soldiers turned to look at him. He didn't seem to notice. Or care. "Boe a hûn: neled herain, dan caer menig?" And they should be: 300, against 10,000?
It was true, every single word. They were the thoughts running through my head, begging to be voiced, but I silenced them, kept my head down and carried on. 'At least he said it in Elvish, there's no need to get the soldiers morale any lower than it already is.' I could see Aragorn swishing this thought around his head, trying to think of something to defend the king's decision.
"Si beriach a hýn. Amar na ned Edoras." That was true, they certainly did stand a better chance in Helm's Deep then in Edoras. But it had raised the probability of their survival from 0 to 0.1.
"Aragorn, men i ndagor. Hýn ú-gâr ortheri. Natha daged aen" My jaw clenched. He was right. Again. We stood no chance. I looked across the room. We were all going to die, this was the last time any of them would see the sun set., the stars in the sky, their loved ones. It would all be taken away by the cruel inevitability of death. 'Not inevitable, you just made it that way.' Images of the sea flashed before my eyes…
Aragorn forgot his Elvish and simply finished with: "Then I shall die as one of them!" Drawing some odd looks from the army around them. He turned and fled the scene. Legolas attempted to follow, but was stopped by Gimli. Anger coursed through me. On impulse I grabbed his wrist and yanked him into a storage room in the back like a stubborn child, turning him round to face me.
"Just what do you think you are doing?" I only realised once it had escaped my lips how much like a scolding parent I sounded. "What do you think grinding down the already shattered confidence in their leaders will accomplish."
"I spoke nothing of the truth."
"Sometimes, the truth is the one thing that people don't want, no, need to hear." I turned away, my hand massaging my temple. "I know we won't last the night. I know for a fact that by the morning there will be no one left to fight for. But, I also know that there is still a chance. There is always a chance, however slim, however insignificant, it's still there." I paused. "Remember…remember the council? Remember what I said back then?" He nodded slowly, his silence thoughtful. "I thought, I knew, just as we all do now, that there was no chance. I knew in my heart that the fellowship was doomed to failure. I doubted you'd make it a week before you broke apart. But oh no, you had to go and prove me wrong, you lasted much longer than that. You got all the way to Amon Hen where you didn't break apart, but were forced apart." I looked up, locking with his gaze. "I had no faith whatsoever in you, but you all pulled through anyway. And now here we are. There have been too many times when I have gone into battle, certain of my own death, and it hasn't happened yet has it? Sadly enough, I'm still alive, and so are you, and so is Aragorn."
"What are you getting at?" Coming from any other person, it would have sounded rude, callous, an offence punishable by Look™ to say such a thing. From him, however, he was simply curious. Elves had a way of making everything they said sound polite. It was times like these when I praised my human side for giving me my everlasting cynicism and sarcasm.
"You are his friend, one of the people he looks to. If you start doubting him as well as our entire situation…empathise a little, how would you feel? This whole thing has been forced upon him, on you, on me, on everyone here. Being butchered by Uruk-Hai isn't exactly top of my list of things to do today, but here I am anyway. Here we are, and there's not much left to do except see it through to the very end."
"You…you are right." He said after a little thought. "I shouldn't have said that to him, not now anyway…what was I thinking…" He stared at me in disbelief. 'His eyes are really blue.' I thought absently. "I should…I should talk to him."
"Just reassure him that you trust him. He will fight better in that knowledge, I know this."
"Thank you, Yuna." He smiled, a simple quirk at the corners of his mouth, but it was enough. "I am glad you came with us." Now that hit me like a three-ton bag of oliphaunt dung. Someone was actually glad I interfered? I scanned it for sarcasm. It was clean. How incredibly unexpected and…well…odd…
So this was where the people of Rohan waited out their dooms. The caves were dank, wet, uneven holes in the ground. Families – or what was left of them – huddled together to try and gain some sense of security. Eowyn was down here like the saint she was, reassuring and comforting. I didn't even know why I was down here. It was getting rather dull upstairs, though.
But now, as I looked around me, at the mothers, babies, young daughters, sons, all those that were left. I felt a strange feeling, a fierce protectiveness. It was then that I realised what I was fighting for. The right to live, the right to be born, live your life and die with dignity. This was something I clung to. It was all most people, including me, had, so why should anyone have the right to take it away from them? It wasn't fair. These people had done nothing wrong except live. And now the Uruk-Hai came along and violated every single right the civilians had.
They were frightened, they had no idea what was going on, only that there was a very small probability that any of them would survive. They didn't deserve this, the constant fear, not knowing, anxiousness. I realised how much I wanted to fight, how much I wanted to give my life helping them, but then I also realised that the best way for me to help them would be for me to stay right here. My presence alone might provide some comfort, if not some sort of distraction. They would probably be petrified at the sound of Uruk-Hai ramming their halberds and twisted scimitars into the earth. For someone to be there, to comfort them, that would help the people far more than I could on the battlefield. One more fighter would not make a difference, but if I stayed in the caves, I might be able help them emotionally, which would be far more valuable in the long run.
My mind made up, I headed to the surface, more to see the preparations than anything else. As I ascended the jagged path, I caught snippets of a conversation from behind the door of the first room I came to.
"We have trusted you this far and you have not led us astray. Forgive me. I was wrong to despair." I smiled, glad at the turn of events so far, hoping that things went this smoothly through the night, but inwardly knowing they wouldn't.
"There is nothing to forgive, Legolas." I knew he'd say that. I entered the room just in time to see a pathetically manly grasp of the shoulders and a disgruntled Dwarf pulling the "Confounded!" chain mail over his head. My eyes widened. Across his chest were two rather large lumps of something under the chain mail, which bore a frightening resemblance to—
"It's a little tight across the chest!" He declared. I stifled a snort, keeping my face stoic as I recalled a previous conversation…
'"Gimli, are you a woman?"'
My already tanned face reddened considerably. I decided that I would rather be left highly uncertain than find out the most obvious way. The red disappeared from my face and instead I just shuddered. That thought wasn't funny, embarrassing or even plausible. It was just wrong.
My very wrong thoughts were interrupted by the unmistakable sound of a horn, clear and crisp in the night air.
"That is no Orc horn." Legolas stated, presumably to enlighten his Dwarven acquaintance. I knew than sound. From where, that was another issue, but I knew that sound wasn't generally associated with my immediate and unfortunate bloody death.
Well that was a relief.
It was on this knowledge that I followed Legolas and Aragorn outside, up the steps and pushing past the uncertain soldiers. There, helmets gleaming, robes flawless, faces solemn, were a troop of Elves, the white banner flying proudly above them an indication of their homeland.
I couldn't stop the grin from asserting itself on my face as I spotted the leader. Haldir of Lorien. They ground to a halt, Haldir having quiet words with king, and glancing up at Aragorn, who threw his arms around the elf in a distinctly relieved hug. Haldir responded after an awkward moment or six. He glanced to me and his eyes widened in surprise, he lowered them quickly to King Theoden as he made his appearance. He was probably afraid I'd try to kiss him or something. I had thought about it, but decided to allow him to retain some measure of dignity in front of his soldiers.
The Elves' heads turned towards me in unison. As one, they turned about to face me, their weapons lowered. They stood at attention for a while afterwards. I felt mildly chuffed, that is, until I realised they had performed this little display on behalf of the Prince of Mirkwood. He simply nodded. I still held onto a little of my pride as I noticed the awed faces of the soldiers. They knew that before them, here stood warriors. Battle-hardened fighters who could best any one of them. And they were to be fighting along side them. I felt pride swell in my stomach, only then realising that I had moved behind Haldir and now stood next to Legolas, looking very noble and self-sacrificial.
"We are proud to fight alongside men once more." I was fully aware of the attentions of every soldier on the walls focused on the Elves.
Soon after, they had positioned themselves on the walls, and were ready to fight. Aragorn, who was giving out orders, turned to me.
"Yuna, if you could cover the lower left wall—"
"No, I…" That didn't sound very noble or self-sacrificial. "I…wish to remain in the caves. With the women and children." He gave me a steely look of utter disbelief. "Hear me out, I…"
"After all the trouble I went through to ensure practically the best fighter we have gets her place on the walls." He shook his head. "This isn't like you at all. Why would you want to stay in hiding?"
"Do not think I am afraid, far from it, if anything I wish to be on the walls, fighting for the lives of everyone here."
"Then why don't you?"
"Think about it, one less fighter will not alter the outcome of the battle, but if I can stay in the caves…" To me, my own words never sounded so stupid and unsure. "…perhaps I can at least offer some sort of comfort to the people there. You know? Keep them calm, hopeful, that sort of thing. And who knows, if all else fails and the Hornburg is breached, I may be able to hold them off – the corridor is narrow, they could only come through one by one – long enough for the people to get away." My eyes dropped to the floor. "I would happily die for such a thing."
"One less of these not-quite-soldiers wouldn't affect the outcome, you're right, but you are worth twenty or thirty of them at least. But I can see your mind is made up and I shall not pressure you any further." I nodded, then a thought kicked off in my crowded head.
"What did you say before? Trouble?"
"Aye. The very idea of a woman pretending to be capable of defending the walls is completely absurd." He smiled, a rare occurrence in these times.
"What about before, when I…oh never mind, I must be getting to the caves."
"Wait…" He started. "Just…wait until they arrive, then go down. That way you can tell the others what the situation is."
"I think I can make a pretty accurate guess, but if it makes you happy, Estel, then I shall stay 'til the Uruk-Hai arrive, which…" I threw a glance over his shoulder, "…shouldn't be too far off." There were blotchy points of yellow light in the distance. The assaulted earth battered by the heavy boots of the Uruk-Hai berserkers.
He nodded gravely, the hint of a grimace crossing his face as a clap of thunder echoed across the night sky. It was a few seconds before the heavens let loose a torrent of rain upon the land. I felt my hair plaster itself to my head, a few drops cascading down my nose and dropping rather surreptitiously down my top. I unconsciously hauled it up as I turned away to better face the approaching army.
It was like a scene from every fairytale imaginable. Thunder booming arrogantly overhead, veins of light illuminating the sky, rich with heavy black clouds that were releasing unrelenting rain on the earth. The heroes would fight valiantly 'til the end, eventually emerging victorious. But this was no fairytale. I had been shown that time and time again, the fact flaunting itself like a Bree harlot.
"Any thoughts?" He asked suddenly, his eyes fixed on the horizon, unwavering.
"Hmm?" He'd interrupted my train of thought. I realised after a moment that he wanted the truth. He knew that was all I'd give him anyway. So many people were telling him we would win, we would lose, there was no hope, we would fight and emerge triumphant. So many conflicting opinions. All he wanted was someone to tell him straight, what they thought our meagre chances amounted to.
"I think that the ground will be muddy soon." I started after a while, he looked at me strangely, thinking that that was all I had to say on our situation. I ignored him and continued:
"Good, that will put us at least at a little bit of an advantage. That's one of the very few we have. The numbers aren't so bad after all, at least, if you take the fact that we will be taking them down by the hundred with our brand new Elven archers and the unsure Rohan folk, armed with short bows. It won't be so bad if we manage to hold the wall and gate alike. There is no way they will be able to breach the wall. The one weak spot is useless to them, anyway. They will have to go through the gate. That will cost them hundreds, probably more. Thousands will fall before any real hand-to-hand fighting takes place. They have the advantage there, if only by sheer numbers and skill. That's where you have to be careful." He listened in silence, slowly nodding and uttering his thanks at the end. The Uruk-Hai were almost here now. Their shields glinting like a madman's eyes in the light of the thunderclaps and barely visible moon and torches. "I shall take my leave. Good luck to you, you'll need it."
'…I would hate for this 'Fellowship' of yours to leave this place with false confidence. Good luck…You'll need it…' I tried to ignore the surfacing memory, pushing it down to join its forgotten friends in my mental filing cabinets.
"Thank you." He said, a hint of regret passing through his voice.
"And…" I forced the next few words out. They were rarely heard passing my lips with any kind of sincerity. But I felt that this occasion deserved such a thing. "I'm…I'm sorry." He seemed to guess how foreign the words were to me, and remained solemn.
"So am I." With a final friendly grasp of his shoulder, I turned and headed for the caves. The Uruk-Hai were pounding on the ground with their weapons. Creating the illusion that there were hundreds of thousands of the creatures against the rather pathetic number of humans and Elves.
I could hear the sound of a baby wailing and a mother hushing the child as best she could as I descended the rough steps. My boots were practically silent against the floor, so it was no great wonder that there was a collective rustling to look in my direction as I made my appearance known by answering the question on most of their lips.
"It's just their weapons." They looked. "The Uruk-Hai pound them on the earth as an intimidation tactic." There was some sort of general sigh of relief. "The battle hasn't started yet. You'll know when it has." I finished with a note of finality. Those milling around the caves turned back to whatever it was they were doing beforehand.
"Yunie?" Said a sickeningly cute voice from somewhere near my foot. I looked down to see little Telnariel tugging on my cloak.
"Hello there." She was happy now. I had seen her with her mother earlier. She had waved to me sweetly as I arrived back at the fortress after the warg attack. I was happy she'd found her mother after all that. Even if my new nickname was rather horrendous.
"Telnariel, why don't you go back to your mother and leave the Lady and I to speak?" Telnariel did just that. She skipped away to where her mother sat, one foot idly trailing in a small pool of water. "My Lady, I…"
"Stop. My name is Yuna, or Yunalesca, whatever. I am no Lady, so please do not address me as such."
"Then I am just Eowyn." She replied. I nodded. "Mila—uh, Yuna…I need to know…what are our chances? Seriously, no one is telling me anything, and it's driving me mad." I chuckled. She reminded me of a much younger me, far too much for my comfort.
"I just told Aragorn not ten minutes ago of what I thought of the situation. But I'll tell you this: It will take a miracle for us to survive this." I had instinctively hushed my tone. "Not just because of numbers either. Their fighters are strong, fearless. They have no qualms about sacrificing a thousand of their soldiers in order to breach the gates. When they do get through…I pray to Illúvitar that we have taken down enough of their number to stand a fighting chance. Each soldier would have to kill thirty of the enemy each to truly defeat them. And with the level of experience we have, it looks pretty doubtful."
"Then it is as I feared." She almost whispered, her gaze thrown to the ground.
"All may not be lost. A small miracle has already presented itself." She looked up, her eyes beckoning.
"How so?"
"The Lord of Rivendell, Elrond Halfelven, he has the gift of foresight." She was wide-eyed with anticipation. "Earlier, a troop of archers arrived, their leader Captain of the Guard at the Elven City of Lothlorien. They no doubt came at his bidding. He has no desire to see the world of men torn apart. Neither do I. He is part of the reason, almost the entire reason, why I am here in the first place." She nodded, then something new presented itself.
"Wait! Why are you here?" 'What? Ungrateful little bit—' "Why aren't you up there, with the others?" Her expression grew angry. "Did they tell you not to fight? Ooh! I can't believe they would do something like that! I just—"
"Calm down, they didn't tell me not to fight, in fact, Aragorn convinced them to let me take part, but," I continued, not giving her a chance to voice the question her lips had already formed. "I'm not about to explain to anyone for the third time today my reasons for being here. Just do me a favour and accept it, okay?" She had just nodded her consent when the ground above us ceased to shake. The eerie nothingness that followed was almost too much to bear.
"What's happening?" Someone whispered fearfully in the almost darkness.
I took a deep breath and said quietly as I exhaled, "It has begun…"
There was a brief pause, where the silence hung, heavy and thick with uncertainty. Then a series of screams, roars and growls, coupled with the thousands of heavy footfalls of the monsters trembled the ceiling. A general muttering and quickened rates of breathing followed. The people were starting to panic a little. They were frightened half to death not knowing what was going on.
"Don't worry." I heard myself saying. "That's nothing, really. They…they are just charging to the walls. There is no way they'll be able to break through the walls, so they'll be forced to go in through the gate, and that alone will mean they loose a lot more troops." I looked up to find myself the centre of attention. "There isn't much cause for concern at the moment, we have amongst the most skilled Elven archers alive on the walls. They arrived earlier tonight. With luck we should be able to take down a few thousand before they breach the gate."
"What's really happening?" Eowyn asked quietly once I'd sat down on a convenient boulder.
"Exactly what I said – though you might want to change it to a lot of luck. I'm not about to lie to these people. They deserve to know what's going on. If I tell them we're winning easily when in fact all is lost, how would they feel?" A hint of a smile crossed her lips.
"You truly are unique. Most people would just patronise them."
"Yes, well, I'm not exactly what you'd call…conventional." A few of the louder bellows from above brought a new wave of murmurs. "That's just the Elves and soldiers doing what they're here for." I said to the cave in general. Another wave of more satisfied murmurs passed through. A look of fear crossed Eowyn's already pale face.
"What if they have ladders? Won't the fighters be forced into hand-to-hand combat beforehand?"
"Yes…" I mused for a moment or two. "But ladders are never really effective. Post one or two archers or swordsmen on each and have them hack down the Uruk-Hai as they come. That's the best strategy with trained fighters, but I am unsure as to the current course of action if they do indeed have ladders…But have faith in your uncle, and Aragorn too. I'm sure they have some idea of what they are doing. If not, I'm sure Haldir does."
"Haldir…?"
"Oh, the Captain of the Lorien Guard."
"He is a friend of yours?"
"Well…more of an acquaintance. We have a rather love-hate relationship. But I like him, I suppose. He understands me."
We talked for a few moments more about nothing in particular. However long these moments were remained a mystery to me. It was obvious that both of us were simply trying to ignore the battle raging overhead, but this fact went unspoken. As we talked, I was flooded with the same feeling I seemed to get whenever she was around. She was so similar to an old, forgotten me that it was almost frightening. Her mannerisms, her words, her values. They were all so strangely familiar. Another thing that amused me to no end was the fact that she seemed to be intrigued with my heritage. Also, that I was accepted as a warrior.
"…I mean, you're a woman, and to tell the truth you just don't see that many female fighters who are widely accepted. Especially none as…unique, and as young as you."
"What? What do you mean young? I'll have you know I'm at least a hundred times your age."
"Wait, you can't be…" She looked rather confused. "…that would make you…just how old are you."
"About three thousand and…eighty four." Her mouth opened slightly, then closed quickly as if she'd realised her own mistake.
"Of course, you're an elf, I'd forgotten. I…haven't met many, but I think I can safely say that you aren't like any I've seen. Especially that one that arrived with you. Legolas, was it?"
"Ah yes, him, well my dear, that sort of attitude generally comes with being the eldest Prince of Mirkwood."
"He's a Prince? What in Arda is he doing here, then?"
"You know, I have no idea. But I—"…was cut off before I could finish by the loud boom overhead. It quaked the rocky wall above us and a few smaller stones fell out of place. My breath caught in my throat. I closed my eyes and blocked out my other senses, focussing solely on hearing the sounds above the ground. Heavy chunks of rock were ramming into the ground. Cries of disbelief, human and elf alike. Shouts of triumph from the Uruk-Hai. A thought hit me. "They've breached the walls…" I whispered, not even realising I'd said it out loud until Eowyn asked me what I'd just said. I repeated it slowly.
"What! But…how? You said—"
"I don't know, I'm not even sure I want to know." Aragorn's words echoed in my mind. '…One less of these not-quite-soldiers wouldn't affect the outcome, you're right, but you are worth twenty or thirty of them at least…'
"You should go." Eowyn said at last. "I can tell not being able to fight is getting to you. You should go up, see if they need any help.
"You…you are right." I unconsciously checked Luccrecía was in her place before rising from my spot. I took a few steps before I turned round. "Oh, and just in case," I made to unsheathe a short sword on my back, but instead kept it on as Eowyn nodded towards her own blade sitting a small distance away.
"Good luck." She said as a farewell as I hurried out the entrance, unclasping my cloak and less useful weapons in the process. I flung them on a nearby table in the armoury as I raced through. On me, I only kept two daggers strapped to my thighs, Luccrecía safely in her sheathe, and one other sword that I carried in my hands. It was a two-hander that I was well acquainted with. It relied on brute force mingled with the skill and strength needed to wield such a blade. It was best for battles where I was severely outnumbered, and this was definitely to be the case.
I braced myself for the sight to greet me as I sprinted up the stairs, but nothing could have prepared me for the pure carnage I had hoped never to see again. The Uruk-Hai were flooding in through the colossal breach in the wall despite the efforts of the opposing army. Gripping my sword angrily, I ran out to take a place on the lower wall. I could faintly hear Aragorn shouting orders to pull back, and the general noise of Gimli objecting. But where was Legolas? And where was Haldir? I caught sight of the first Elf making his way back to the keep, a flash of gold amongst the Rohan army.
And then, I saw Haldir…
I made a small, strangled sound that I was glad was drowned out by the din around me as he took the first hit.
Then the second.
I was on the stairs by then, furiously charging at where his body now lay.
It wasn't happening, I convinced myself.
We weren't the best of friends, but someone like him didn't deserve to die. Not like this, anyway. A vicious back-stab by some random denizen of Isengard. It brightened me somewhat to see to the offender's bloody death, but then I glanced down to Haldir.
His eyes were glazed over, his mouth open slightly in shock. Around him I could see a multitude of dead Elves. It was a sickening sight. They looked unnatural, frightening in death. It wasn't meant for them. Death was the sort of unlucky thing that was reserved for lesser beings.
It chilled me to the bone, but my resolve kicked in, telling me it was not the first time I had seen this many dead, and there was nothing I could do. Quickly but reluctantly I rose, making for the keep like the others.
At least, until I caught sight of Aragorn. I had seen him with Haldir a moment before I got there, but didn't think of calling to him. In a spur of the moment he had leapt from the wall onto the muddy ground below, and he was fighting for all he was worth. That wouldn't save him however. He would be killed, slaughtered unless something…or someone, I thought, as I spied Gimli hacking his way through the throng of enemy like a Dwarf possessed.
Leaving me out on the action?
How thoughtless. Bah. Men.
I immediately followed suite. Skidding down the half-destroyed stairs in my attempt to get level with them. Within moments I was there. My sword brandished and swinging about in a strangely controlled fashion.
"Ha ha! Look who's joined the fun!" Bellowed Gimli, Aragorn casting a look in my direction and allowing the shadow of a grin to cross his face. I elbowed a creature in the solar plexus with the hilt of my sword before bringing it round to dispose of two more. It certainly was a very powerful weapon, no arguments there, but it was rather heavy, within a few more swings I could already feel the familiar stretch on my arms. This sword and others like it had given me the undefined muscles on my arms. As much as I didn't care much about my attractiveness in other accounts, I considered it just plain…wrong for a woman to have strongly defined muscles anywhere. It just…didn't look right, so mine remained slightly toned by battle, yet not overly so.
"Come!" Aragorn shouted at Gimli and myself. "To the gates!" I followed him, my blade resting comfortably on my shoulder as I ran. Soon enough, I could see what the problem was. They were almost through the gates. The wood strained under the efforts, even with a good twenty men holding it firmly shut. It would not hold for long. "How long do you need?" I caught the rushed conversation as I arrived.
"As long as you can give me!" Came Theoden's reply. Good, he was alive. That was another thing I had been wondering. Aragorn beckoned to me with a wave, Gimli trotted behind. Now I understood. I hadn't noticed the side door beforehand, and I grinned, guessing the plan of action.
I followed Gimli out, my footsteps silent and I edged along the rocks. Aragorn leaned forward slowly, surveying the situation. The Dwarf followed suit.
"Come on, we can take 'em!" He said, jumping from foot to foot, trying to control the adrenaline rush of battle. Aragorn looked at him, disbelieving.
"It's a long way." Gimli took another look at the sizeable distance, looked up to Aragorn, then quieted his inner demons, and spoke.
"Toss me." 'What?'
"What?"
"I cannot jump the distance, you'll have to toss me!" Aragorn nodded, slowly. The sort of look you give to an elderly man who starts talking to you for no reason on God's green Earth on the bus. He made to pick him up. Gimli started suddenly. "Oh, don't tell the elf." There was a look in his eyes, almost pleading.
"Not a word." I didn't promise anything, I would tell the elf whatever I pleased. In fact, they seem to have forgotten I was there in the first place. Without giving Gimli a chance to respond, the Dwarf was lifted off his feet and hurled to the other side. Aragorn and I following close behind.
I leapt into action immediately, swinging my sword with every ounce of strength I still possessed. There were hundreds of them marching, unfalteringly up the narrow path to the gates. At least this way they could only attack a few at a time. That put us at the definite advantage. They were crashing on our blades like water on rock, the words of King Theoden starting to make sense. It was going a lot better than I had thought when I stepped outside. If we could hold off the battering rams for long enough for the barricades to be put in place, we might stand a chance of regrouping in time to form a new strategy. It was our only hope.
From the corner of my eye I could see Legolas relentlessly firing arrow after arrow. Each one finding their mark. His golden head was hard to miss amongst the endless rivers of mousy brown locks and dull helmets. One well-aimed arrow had just found a thick rope holding up one of the new ladders they had erected. It snapped without hesitation and send thirty or so Uruk-Hai plummeting to their deaths. I was vaguely aware of Theoden shouting some kind of order, but I was slightly preoccupied. The battle raged all around me. All I was aware of was the rushing of my own blood. And then…
I was caught off guard. My head turned to the sound of Aragorn's voice telling me to pull back. A scimitar came round and grazed my left hand, I yanked it back just in time to save my hand, but to loose a sword. It plummeted to the ground beneath the bridge structure and was lost, probably forever. I dodged another blow as I calculated my situation. I was now unarmed. I had the daggers, but they would only be useful against Uruk-Hai with someone like Legolas wielding them. I wasn't skilled enough in that department. That left…
Luccrecía seemed to sing to me as I grabbed the sheathe, delighting at the sound made as I drew her, swinging her round in the process and catching an exposed area of flesh below the neck.
"You three! Get out of there!" Theoden's voice came through the small hole in the gate. 'how, exactly?'
I realised, not without some surprise, that I was almost half way down the bridge, and was surrounded on all sides. There was almost no hope of getting out. The odds were, once again impossible. I was reminded of Moria. 'Just the way I like them' With a swipe coupled with a roundhouse kick, I cleared my immediate perimeter as the Uruk-Hai plunged to the battlefield below. That gave me just enough time to do something I hadn't been forced to do in well over a century.
Bidden only by my will, the reason to this I knew not, the chevrons along the blade started to glow the same faint white-blue colour as I lifted it over my head.
"Fainsen!" I whispered sharply, hurling the sword down and forward as the command left my lips. As dictated, the chevrons seemed to break apart. Each division widening, each section phasing away from those adjacent. It was almost like a whip once the transformation had taken place. The areas of the blade were slim and deadly sharp, scattered along the length of a strange sort of…I didn't want to call it string, because that would never do the material justice. It shone the same colour as everything else seemed to, long, slim, and in my experience, unbreakable. Also, the fact that it, too, was razor-edged was a considerable plus.
At it collided with the ground, a shock wave was sent out around it, knocking back any that were too close. I whipped it round behind my back and brought it up, above my head in a slash. Three behind me, one on my left flank, and another in front, were immediately either knocked backwards, or sent to the ground with a mortal wound across their necks. It felt good to be wielding her once again. The power of the weapon coursed through my arm as I swiped, the trail of the blade thrashing round to follow. I twirled the hilt round my head twice, the whip curling round in its wake, a light flourish as I sped up. They were getting closer now, there were far more of them. I would be overrun unless I did something quick. One behind me. I ducked the blackened sword and took out his ankles with a quick swipe, I carried on in that direction for the time being. I had to get of the bridge somehow.
Where were Gimli and Aragorn? My pulse quickened as a thought sprung to mind. They must have fallen off. After all this.
"Yuna!" It was Aragorn. I unconsciously swung the blade behind me, delighting in the sound of air being cut in two as I dispatched two more of the enemy. He had just grabbed Gimli and held out his hand to me, his other firmly on a rope. I looked up to see Legolas preparing to pull them up. That was as good as I would get. I sprinted to where he was, bawling all my weight against an Uruk-Hai blocking my way. Almost there, just a few more metres to go.
A creature attacked them, forcing Aragorn to jump out onto the wall, where he stayed, preparing to absail to the top. I would have to jump. Preparing myself, I ran the last few feet, and left the ground…
…Only to have my arm and right ankle roughly grabbed by an enemy soldier. He hauled me back and threw me like a rag doll onto the stone of the bridge. My back screamed in protest as I collided, but I ignored the pain and concentrated on getting myself up. My only means of escape foiled, I would simply have to do the next best, and, incidentally, the most insane option available. Carry on fighting.
One rushed at me, a kangaroo kick to his heavily armoured torso backed him off a little, giving me enough time to get myself off my backside and take care of the surrounding enemy. In any other case, I would have seriously considered jumping of the bridge as a less painful option, but if I carried on at this rate, I might actually be able to survive. They were coming fast, but they could only do so three or four at a time. I was practically backed up against the gate, and at least I had some kind of advantage.
I found it incredibly strange that they went down so easily. But then I took in the factors. One was underestimation. There was only one of me, and an army of them, how hard could I be to take down. The second and most prominent, was Luccrecía. She was without a doubt the only reason I hadn't been brutally slaughtered already. There was little or no chance of anything, even Uruk-Hai, surviving, or being suitably mobile, after a direct swipe to the neck or underarms. What might have only been a graze with other weapons cut through armour like a cowcatcher through a crowd, inflicting a deep wound that, if it didn't kill, at least caused some measure of unbearable pain. Also, I was already battle-hardened enough. I had seen enough blood and death to desensitise me to pretty much…everything.
Another ten gone.
Fifteen.
Twenty.
The minutes I as up there turned to hours, it got to the point where I had stopped counting the numbers a long time ago.
"What are you doing out there? Get out!" Theoden yelled, looking frantically at the approaching battering ram.
"I'd—" slash, "Just," swipe, "Love to!" I swiped the blade down and, ripping it up off the ground, took care of three more.
"Yuna!" This time it was Legolas, I never thought I'd be so happy to hear his voice. I briefly glanced upwards. He had a rope in one hand, the same one he used to haul up Gimli and Aragorn. He threw one end to me quickly, and I wrapped it round my arm as the onslaught continued. I hurried to the edge of the bridge, shouting a command as I ran.
"Alye!" The sword in my hand immediately linked together once more, the chevrons flashing one last time before settling into place. One hand securely around the rope, I jumped…
…Only to have my ankle grabbed yet again by a soldier. Not wishing for a repeat of previous times, I gritted my teeth and thrust the blade downwards. It was too short to do anything but graze his hands, but without warning, bidden only by my wishes, the front section of Luccrecía shot down, embedding herself in his mouth, open and screaming in rage. It assembled again. My foot had been released all too quickly, and with Legolas holding the rope and pulling at the same time, an elf or two behind him, I walked, almost ran, up the side of the wall.
His hand met my wrist as I grasped his, hauling myself up the last few feet, and onto the wall. I stumbled into safety, catching my breath in the process. I hadn't realised just tired I was, fatigue was eating away at me as well. My arms felt like dropping off, and at the time I would happily oblige, my legs didn't feel like working at all, my lungs seemed smaller somehow and it hurt to breathe in too much. My back was seriously protesting against any more movements, and I didn't even want to try and list the umber of wounds I'd received. Legolas looked at me questioningly once I was on my feet.
"Why are you here? Aragorn said you were going to stay in the caves."
"Yes, well, I couldn't exactly let you beat me now, could I?" I remembered the bet established early on. There was no way he'd killed more than me…
He smirked, but to me it was obvious he was simply trying to put up a front to avoid dealing with the carnage around us. I followed him as the soldiers dashed as one into the keep, following Gamling's yelled orders. His voice was hoarse from shouting too much, it cracked slightly as he gave the command.
I reached the inside, noting Aragorn's frustrated face, his teeth gritted before he turned to the door and saw me. Legolas ran towards the back, helping to barricade the entrance. The ranger nodded at me once. This was becoming a habit. I supposed that I wasn't worth wasting breath on. Never mind, no great loss.
Suddenly, my ears picked up a noise. I didn't know what it was at first, but it was eerily familiar. I strained to hear it, shutting off all other senses for the second time that night.
I couldn't believe it. It couldn't be. After all this time…now?
"It's happening…" I said, unaware I was even speaking.
"What?" Gamling asked, a little louder than he'd intended.
"The Ents…they're…they're going to war at last…with Saruman's army here, Isengard will fall." I found myself strangely relieved at the prospect of the closest thing I had to a family going to war.
"The fortress is taken. It is over." Theoden hadn't heard me, and was now musing over our own defeat.
"You said this fortress would never fall while your men defend it. They still defend it. They have died defending it!" Aragorn moved away from the barricade and strode purposely towards Theoden. "Is there no other way for the women and children to get out of the caves?" Theoden was silent. "Is there no other way?"
"There…is one passage. It leads into the mountains. But they will not get far. The Uruk-Hai are too many." Gamling stated, his voice shaking slightly.
"Send word for the women and children to make for the mountain pass. And barricade the entrance!" Gamling made for the entrance to the caves, but I stopped him.
"I will go. I will try to hold them off as long as I can, to give them a good chance of getting further away." I paused, meeting Aragorn's stare. "Let me do this."
"Very well…Yuna, I…" He faltered, searching for words to punctuate what was more than likely our final meeting.
"Me too." I finished for him, knowing full well that he understood.
"Thank you." He said, turning back to the King. I headed for the cave entrance without another thought, hoping my appearance was not as frightening as I thought it was.
I heard the crying, the wailing, the knowledge of their imminent death, before I'd even got down. Eowyn was cradling a child's head as she too wept for the people of Rohan. I clenched my jaw and entered.
Sword drawn, hair dishevelled, wounds bleeding in places, clothes soaked with rain mingled with my own, and other's blood. I was a sight that was probably not very welcome at the time.
"Yuna! What happened? What's happening now?" The blonde vision asked fearfully, her bright blue eyes glinting with tears.
"There's no time for that now! You must…" I doubled over and coughed. To my horror, but not surprise, there was blood on my hand as I removed it from my mouth. "…You must lead the people back. Further into the mountain." She hesitated. "Quickly! Before they break through, you must…" cough, "…hurry! There is no time! Go!"
"What about you?"
"I will stay here and try to hold them off as long as I can. It's up to you to get the women and children to safety." She nodded – 'I'll have to start a tally…' – and disappeared into the crowds, calling out instructions. I turned around again, glaring at the door. Gamling and the others were barricading the entrance at the top. It was up to me to stop the others. My ears were ringing. My lip was bleeding in two places. I had a cut streaking around the left side of my face. I had at least one broken rib, and my left wrist was probably fractured. I had terrible cramps in both my quadriceps as well as my left bicep. All in all, things weren't looking their best.
If I survived the battle, at least I'd have a few scars to prove it, although I'd my fair share of those already. Part of me was longing for Legolas or Gimli or someone to run down and tell me all was won, we were victorious. But I knew that would never happen. I looked around the place that was to serve as my grave and felt a sort of grim satisfaction. I would die just like I'd always thought I would. Fighting to my death. I'd never imagined that it would be for such a noble cause, but then again, I wasn't a very noble person when it came down to it.
Then the Uruk-Hai came…
There were only four, maybe five that came screaming down the stairway and face-first into Luccrecía. I had killed enough of them tonight to write a book on their week spots. It took me under two minutes to dispatch them all. Then there was the odd one or two for the next half-hour.
By now I was getting seriously worried. Where were they all? By all rights I should be dead right now. Unless…what if they knew of another way to the backs of the caves? They knew about the wall's one weak spot, so why not this? Cold fear gripped my heart. I turned to look at the uninviting black of the deeps. What if…? A twisted arrow flew past my head, barely grazing my braids as I swerved, turning round and throwing one of my daggers to embed itself in the Uruk-Hai's head.
My head screamed at me for the sudden movement. Flashes of colour swam before my eyes. I saw the creature go down, but soon lost my footing myself. My body folded up beneath me, my eyes rolled back in my head. My rib throbbed as I collided with the ground. And then, there was black…
A.N. I haven't replied to reviews for a while, so….
Jen: I knew it! We couldn't be that unpopular. Someone likes us! Thanks a bunch for your review, it made me blush…Well, I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I enjoy writing it .
Name: Love me, then. It's soon for us…
Lilly: Thanks, hon. we will.
Lilena: Damn straight! (And thanks for the other reviews and the favourites thing. Can I just say I love you)
Diana Troy's love child: Love the name . And thanks, I based her on a real life sickeningly cute child I have the pleasure of knowing.
Yurico4Logan: Read on, sweetie.
Serendipty: Soon, dearie, soon. Next chapter is the end of LOTR, and the beginning of our original story line. I.e. romance.
Einon: Read the rest! Please! And review! I love you!
Chris: Yes, yes you do.
pUnK rOcK pRiNcEsS: Ah yes, the neon beacon flashing legomance, legomance! makes itself known once again.
Rionadestiny: Bah! More of you lurkers! I love you really…but review! Please! I need input!
Phoebemoon: Two words: Neon Beacon.