Hidden Secrets
Disclaimer: I only own the characters that are unrecognizable and the plot.
Chapter Forty-one: Battle Unfolds
T.A. 3019The four warriors stayed fairly close together as they moved through the battle. The Dead were a tremendous help clearing away the masses of Orcs and other foul beings. Aranwen wielded both her sword and her dagger as she raced deeper into the heart of the battle. Her eyes were alert for any familiar faces, whether they be dead or alive. She saw none and continued fighting with a ferocity that few could ever match. She was fighting for what she believed in, she was fighting for her life, for the life of her unborn child, for the world that she knew and held dear, and to protect her father and newfound friends.
Aranwen broke away from the group. Her booted feet lightly tread the unturned earth as she ran. She had a deep feeling inside that something terrible was about to happen if she did not stop it. Something was wrong and someone she knew was going to be on the receiving end.
She was close—she could feel it.
Then, she saw Gothmog, a disfigured Orc leader, chasing after a wounded Eowyn. The shieldmaiden was crawling along the dirty ground, clutching her arm. Aranwen intervened, roughly slicing off his head with a deft swipe of her deadly, bloodstained blade.
Aranwen threw Eowyn a slight smile and handed her a sword before hurtling herself back into battle.
She was thriving under the harsh conditions of battle. Her heart was racing from the excitement and adrenaline was pumping through her veins. She was truly happy for the first time in a long time. Being in battle, for some strange reason unbeknownst to her, reminded her of simpler times, when she still had a family and a village to call home and of life as Ranger, before Beran came along.
If only she could rewind time and redo certain parts of her life or linger in others. But, alas, it would never happen.
The Dead were sweeping into the White City, which was perhaps one of the last places, besides the dreaded black land of Mordor, that Aranwen had yet to visit. The forces of evil were losing to them, falling down dead. Mordor was receiving a serious blow today.
Smoke rose all around her. Dead bodies were strewn haphazardly across the emptying field of battle. Battle was winding down and Aranwen was being to feel fatigued and relieved. She had survived.
Light broke through the clouds as the living scattered and searched the field for the wounded. She could vaguely make out her father conferring with the Dead a great distance away, just outside the stone walls of Minas Tirith. He was making good on his promise, and releasing them.
The ghostly, green Dead disappeared with smiles upon their faces in a sudden puff of wind. Battle was truly over.
Distraught cries rang out in the empty void as the dead bodies were discovered. Only a few had survived the trying battle. A few lone survivors from Rohan clung to life. Some were grievously wounded and would not last the night. Others would live but a scant few days extra.
Sorrow and pain filled her as she connected with the feelings of loss in the air. Her weakened body could not handle the emotion and she slowly sank into the ground, passing out into a dreamless, much-needed sleep.
Author's Notes:
Just a quick piece of battle. If I were to go into more detail about what everyone was up to during battle, this chapter could easily have been longer than most of the story. So I condensed and picked relevant pieces. The next piece will be a dreamlike vision of Arwen and the requisite Houses of Healing scene. Hopefully, that will be up tomorrow. Many thanks to all of you who reviewed! Your reviews have inspired me to continue. The finish line is in sight… Enjoy!