Chapter Fifteen: The Turn of the Tide
A/N: I'm so, so grateful to each and every one of you who reads and supports this, especially with my sporadic updates. Many apologies for the long waits between chapters. Junior year of college is… Oof. The semester from hell in terms of workload, housing problems, and having back to back performances and rehearsals for weeks on end. Where I don't have time to eat or do simple self care most of the time. Days off? Don't exist. Don't be a music major, folks. :') Profuse apologies in advance for absolutely butchering this partial retelling of the Battle of Helm's Deep. :(
Frodo, Sam, Gollum, and Talion had settled down for another night on their way to Cirith Ungol. They'd stopped at a pool of water to resupply and rest. Gollum was off mumbling to himself about fish and what he would have for dinner, disappearing, for a time, as he normally did. Sam and Frodo lay fast asleep, hidden from sight by a short rock wall surrounded by thick trees. Sam had encouraged both Frodo and Talion to rest, and though it took longer than he would've liked, Talion finally felt himself fall asleep.
He found himself surrounded by a strange, vast darkness when next his eyes opened. There were whispers of memories in the air, and as he began to walk he could see them. He recognized himself and Celebrimbor during their time in Mordor. He recognized the memories they had regained while looking for artifacts from Celebrimbor's past. But the ones he didn't recognize were of an all too familiar sinister elven looking figure with eyes like ravenous flames and words like toxic honey.
"Sauron and I are bound in the flaming eye above Barad-dur. Our fea remain locked in eternal battle until the undoing of the One Ring, and opposed as they might be they are still connected. We share memories, though not by choice, and they are scattered within this place caught between space and time, for either of us to stumble upon them."
Talion looked over his shoulder to see a wounded Celebrimbor clutching his bleeding chest, face bruised, teeming with traces of dark magic that would make even the mightiest of warriors wither. He was instantly at his side, and Celebrimbor leaned his weight against him, drops of blood landing on Talion's hand as he cupped his face in horror.
"You're injured."
"Each time, Sauron and I fight until we are at the brink of death, and each time our fea are sent into a slumber until we are healed. We wander after waking, until we find each other again, and the cycle has continued without change since its beginning." He took Talion's hands in his own, slowly pulling them down and holding them gently. "I heard you calling, and so I came here. Is everything alright?"
He hissed in pain, and Talion sat them both down, pulling Celebrimbor to sit back against his chest. Celebrimbor sighed gratefully, and Talion's arms wrapped loosely around him as he gently placed a kiss in his ebony hair, normally silky straight and neat now tangled and matted with sweat. They soaked in the silence for a few moments, not quite sure how much time had passed before Talion finally spoke.
"The One Ring's hold on Frodo is firm. I fear with its influence and Gollum's meddling that our journey into Mordor will be fraught with peril."
"The Halfling is strong, stronger than most. He retains part of himself still while the One Ring whispers to him at every available opportunity. As do you. I do not think that will change." Celebrimbor frowned at the mention of Gollum. "He leads them to Cirith Ungol. No doubt he wishes for Shelob to devour them so that he may take the Ring from Frodo's corpse."
"Not if I am there," Talion promised before he sighed. "She looked weakened when I last saw her. She said her vision had grown cloudy beyond a certain point in time: when we reach Mordor."
"Then she more than anyone is aware of just how unpredictable the fight for the fate of Middle-earth will be."
It was then that Celebrimbor got unsteadily to his feet, Talion quickly following him as he led them down a row of his memories. Talion recognized the many days and nights of battle, of domination, of death and destruction and moving until his body gave out. He recognized Celebrimbor during his quest to defeat Sauron after he stole the One Ring. And he recognized some of their quieter and more peaceful moments as well. The one that they stopped at was one that Talion was familiar with.
Celebrimbor and Eltariel had defeated Sauron in battle atop of Barad-dur after… Talion grimaced. It still stung, but Talion harbored no ill will towards Celebrimbor because of it. Not anymore. They watched as Sauron's eyes began to turn the same shade of blue as Celebrimbor's wraith magic. And yet… The domination didn't feel final. There was no mental link between them that signified the deed was done. Through Celebrimbor's eyes he saw a glimpse of Sauron's soul. Anger, contempt, and determination were apparent. Then he saw fear, and the emotion caught Talion completely by surprise before past Celebrimbor let go too soon, Sauron quickly recovering and regaining his wits. A dagger flew out of his robes, slicing two of Eltariel's fingers clean off, the New Ring clattering to the ground beside them.
"He was afraid," Talion realized as they both turned away from the memory, Celebrimbor smirking.
"Yes. A very satisfying moment I use to remind myself that even a terror like Sauron feels fear, feels hopelessness." His smirk softened to something more serious. "More importantly, it is a reminder to you that Sauron is not invincible. He toyed with you, that day at Barad-dur, planted doubts in your mind with his ruse of nonchalance and lack of concern. But he knows you are one of his greatest threats, and ever does he wonder what part you'll have to play near the end of the Ring-bearer's journey."
"Hopefully it is to get him safely to Mount Doom and protect him while he finally destroys the Ring." Talion briefly saw flashes of the vision Shelob had shown him, of him falling from the skies of Mordor towards his death, and Celebrimbor desperately reaching out to him. "Though I have my concerns."
"Shelob's vision is not always set in stone," Celebrimbor reminded him. "Did you not say, when you donned Isildur's Ring, that your fate was your own?"
Talion fell silent then, looking down at the Ring on his finger that glowed and pulsed like it had a heartbeat. He had said that, and he believed in that still. He had changed fate before, after all. But he couldn't help the feeling that it wouldn't be so simple this time.
"In her last vision, I fell. I felt fire consume me and life leave me. I either didn't have Isildur's Ring or it was destroyed. You were there, but I don't know if you reached me in time."
"Then the One Ring was destroyed, and Sauron defeated. Frodo's quest does not fail." He smiled. "And we are reunited to see another day together."
Talion gave a soft sigh, a hand coming up to slowly caress Celebrimbor's cheek. He felt him lean into the touch and stole a short and sweet kiss. Talion decided he very much liked the blush that colored his cheeks a delicate pink.
"You are endlessly hopeful and bright. I wish I could say the same of myself." His voice was full of affection.
"As long as I have life in me," Celebrimbor told him, "I will be the light that brings you back from the darkness."
Before Talion could reply, he suddenly felt a cold, sickening dread settle in his gut, a familiar shiver traveling down his spine that he'd experienced only once before. His eyes darted around, but found nothing. His Ring hand burned fiercely, and he barely fought down a cry of pain. He'd overstayed his welcome.
"We are not alone. I must go."
Talion pressed a kiss to one of Celebrimbor's cheeks before his form disappeared in a swirl of sky blue and Ringwraith green.
Neither noticed the curious, flame colored eyes that watched from afar the entire time, fixed on where Talion had been just moments ago in pleasant surprise. Sauron grinned viciously, gripping an arm half severed from his shoulder, nursing a split lip and bruised cheek. He chuckled lowly.
"My, my. What a fine gift you've given me, Celebrimbor."
XxX
They had been on the road for several days, nothing but endless green fields as far as the eye could see. So far, the people of Rohan hadn't encountered anyone or anything else on their way to Helm's Deep. There was much worry and unrest, but they had faith in their king to lead them to safety, and had made good progress towards their destination. Eltariel found Aragorn lost in thought towards the front of the group, and she matched his pace, settling beside him. Their horses parted the crowd a bit and provided them with a small bubble of semi-privacy. Aragorn subtly acknowledged her presence, but said nothing. Eltariel smiled sadly.
"You dreamt of her," she stated simply, and it was this that drew Aragorn's gaze to her in surprise. Eltariel laughed softly. "I've spent enough time with Talion to know when something like that has happened. You miss her greatly." Her eyes fell on the Evenstar, and the necklace shone beautifully in the early afternoon sun. "Will she sail?"
"I don't think Elrond is giving her a choice," Aragorn answered after a few moments, feeling his heart clench in his chest. Eltariel huffed.
"It is not his choice to make. The half-elven may choose to live mortal lives if they wish, and if her mind is made up I'm sure she will stay for you."
"You underestimate Elrond's stubbornness," Aragorn told her with a small smile.
"Then you must underestimate just how much she loves you." There was an awkward silence between the two after that.
"And what do you know of love?" Aragorn asked her calmly, genuinely curious, and Eltariel sighed.
"Not nearly as much as I'd like. Only what I've heard and seen." She cast her gaze down at her three fingered hand with a complicated expression. "I spent many years in Talion's company. He has loved Celebrimbor for far longer than he might admit. I have watched him glare down Sauron at the top of Barad-dur without fear, with the promise to free Celebrimbor and Middle-earth from his influence. I have watched him take hold of the New Ring and find new resolve and hope and light despite the whispers of Isildur's Ring and the One Ring alike." She met Aragorn's gaze then, unwavering. "It is love that drives him and keeps him going, as silly as that may sound. And it is love that will see him through his journey, no matter how it may end." She smiled again, kindly. "And the love you and Arwen share will bring you both together again."
They walked in a comfortable silence for a few minutes after that. Aragorn occasionally watched Legolas scout ahead when his eyes weren't trained on the hoof and shoe prints from those ahead of them. Finally he spoke again, with a question.
"And do you have anyone that you love in such a way?" Eltariel looked thoughtful and almost embarrassed as she responded.
"I don't know if I know how," she answered slowly, softly. "Remembering how to be vulnerable and open is one thing. To lay your fea bare to another… I haven't done that in a very long time." Her mind flashed briefly to Haldir, before becoming an assassin and going on so many missions, when she had few worries, when smiling and laughing always came naturally. "Perhaps at one time. But I do not know if those feelings were romantic, if they could be now. Or if he…"
If he even feels the same. She trailed off at the end of her sentence, and Aragorn put a comforting hand on her shoulder, drawing her gaze.
"Perhaps you underestimate his love for you as well."
Before either of them could speak again, there was a commotion just over the hill in front of them. The frantic neighing of horses and cries of alarm from some of the Rohirrim that had ridden ahead sent Legolas sprinting after them, bow drawn, arrows felling a warg as he slit the throat of the downed orc rider. Aragorn quickly caught up with him, witnessing the kill as Legolas shouted, "A scout!" in warning to the others.
"We're under attack!" Eltariel relayed as Aragorn quickly returned for his horse, both of them riding ahead with Theoden as Eowyn helped lead the Rohirrim to safety, away from the fighting.
All those on horseback rode to meet Legolas, who stood at the top of the hill, picking off the small army of orcs and wargs one after another with impeccable aim before leaping onto his and Gimli's horse. They all charged to meet them head on, the battle a blur of swords meeting swords, spears and arrows flying through the air. Gimli found himself unseated from his horse, fighting his way out from under a pile of dead orcs and wargs to return to burying his axe in whatever enemy was within reach. Legolas and Eltariel shot the orcs and wargs that threatened to overwhelm those already engaged in combat, Theoden and the Rohirrim managing to hold their own, though not without heavy casualties.
It was when Eltariel narrowly avoided having her head bitten off, pulling her sword out of a lifeless orc skull, that she saw Aragorn being dragged over the edge of a cliff by a warg. She rode after him, jumping down and skidding to a halt mere steps from where he'd fallen. She could hear Legolas and Gimli worriedly calling Aragorn's name, rushing to meet her and following her gaze. A river rushed below them, sharp rock formations jutting out of the waters. There was no sign of movement otherwise. She could see Legolas trying to hold himself together, Gimli not much better. The initial shock and grief was turning now to determined worry. They wanted to stay and look for him.
Theoden joined them, taking in their expressions of disbelief and despair. He too was trying to keep a neutral expression, and Eltariel watched him take a deep breath to steady his voice.
"Get the wounded on horses. The wolves of Isengard will return… Leave the dead."
Legolas rounded on him in outrage, and Gimli didn't move a muscle. Eltariel watched Theoden ask them to follow as he headed back to those who remained. She spotted the Evenstar clutched in Legolas' hand, blinking away a brief memory of seeing Aragorn and Arwen together during their stay in Rivendell, content and indescribably happy as they walked hand in hand during an evening stroll. Aragorn would not be finished so easily. He would find his way and join them soon, and it was that thought that allowed her to put a hand on both their shoulders with a look of reassurance and calm, gesturing back at the Rohirrim beginning to leave.
Towering walls of grey stone that had seen many battles and firm gates met their sights when they arrived. The exterior had its fair share of marks and scars from weapons of friends and foes, each with a story that would likely never be told if things did not go in their favor in the near future. The keep's history of near impenetrable defense did not bring the feeling of safety and reassurance that was needed as they walked up the steps, and Eltariel could hardly bear to look at all of the panicked, terrified faces of the people who'd made it to Helm's Deep.
The food they'd managed to salvage was scarce. Medical supplies would have to be used sparingly. Morale was low and those still able to fight were beyond exhausted. The air was heavy with fear and uncertainty, hurried footsteps and a sea of trembling voices making it hard to breathe without a hint of doubt and hopelessness trying to settle within her. She helped Eowyn, who had not taken the news of Aragorn missing well, keep herself occupied by tending to the wounded, and making sure the women and children were as comfortable and safe as possible. A day went by like that. Then another. Eltariel had started to lose her concept of time until she saw a familiar face heading their way, smiling in relief.
"You're late," she heard Legolas tell him as the two friends embraced.
He handed Aragorn back the Evenstar, and it was in that moment that Eowyn halted in her tracks beside her, face of great joy falling into a strained, yet still genuine smile. Aragorn looked their way and nodded in greeting. Eltariel nodded back, leaving to follow, patting Eowyn's shoulder in… Comfort? She hoped it was somewhat comforting. The shieldmaiden was quite smitten with Aragorn, and that would only end in heartbreak for her.
At least ten thousand uruks, Aragorn reported he saw on his way to Helm's Deep. By nightfall they would be here. How long had Saruman been preparing for this? Theoden quickly shook off his shock at the information, immediately springing into action with a confidence that made the members of the Fellowship uneasy. All of the able bodied men were to be ready to defend by nightfall, and Theoden seemed quite confident that they could hold the enemy out.
"This is no rabble of mindless orcs. These are Uruk-hai. Their armor is thick and their shields broad."
Theoden didn't take too kindly to Gimli's words, bristling as he replied, "I have fought in many wars, master dwarf. I know how to defend my own keep."
Eltariel couldn't hide her glare at his overconfidence that was bordering on arrogance. He had no idea what an army of the more powerful of Mordor's forces was capable of, and it was making her patience wear thin. They would tear them all to pieces if something other than waiting wasn't done. She was glad Aragorn could voice those thoughts to Theoden more calmly than she could, though that soon revealed that he was more worried and resigned to defeat than he'd been letting on, very aware that this was a threat they weren't prepared for. He thought them beyond help, without any allies. But Eltariel and Aragorn knew that was wrong.
Look to my coming at first light on the fifth day. At dawn, look to the east. Those were the words Gandalf had spoken to Aragorn in the stables before their departure from Rohan. Help would come. It was simply a question of what shape they would be in to receive it.
Night came as women, children, and every provision that could be carried were led into the caves, as far away from danger as they could be within the keep. Three hundred against ten thousand… It wasn't hard to see why so many despaired. Even Legolas seemed to have reached his breaking point in an outburst with Aragorn as more people emerged from the armory, scared, shaken, many most likely holding a weapon for the first time in their lives. Time seemed to drag in those moments, the spread of hopelessness from person to person lasting what felt like an age. Tempers flared, spirits broke. The Fellowship members tried to remember to take time to breathe in preparation for the battle.
The skies were dark when the four of them were together again, donning their armor and readying their weapons. Legolas gently handed Aragorn his sword, an apology on his lips.
"We have trusted you this far. You have not led us astray. Forgive me. I was wrong to despair."
Aragorn smiled, clasping his hand on Legolas' shoulder.
"There is nothing to forgive, Legolas."
What tension there was in the room quickly dissipated at that, especially when Gimli re-entered the room in chainmail that looked more like a dress than armor. Whatever humorous remark that was about to be shared was cut off by the sound of a horn, a familiar one that made Eltariel grin.
"That is no orc horn," Legolas told them.
"No," Eltariel agreed. "That is the horn of Lothlorien."
They rushed outside to see a large battalion of elves armed with the finest bows on that side of Middle-earth, cloaks helping them blend into the night covering well made and sturdy golden armor. Theoden stood across from Haldir, who regarded him kindly.
"I bring word from Elrond of Rivendell. An alliance once existed between elves and men. Long ago, we fought and died together." His eyes met that of each member of the Fellowship's as they descended a set of stairs to join Theoden and the rest of those fighting in the battle. He and Eltariel held each other's gazes as he said, "We come to honor that allegiance."
Aragorn greeted Haldir quite excitedly, embracing him after a more formal elven greeting. Legolas greeted him a bit calmer, but just as welcoming. He and Gimli nodded at each other. With Eltariel he shared a soft and genuine smile that she couldn't help but return as she stood at his side.
"Your arrival is most welcome, mellon nin," she told him warmly.
Haldir looked to Theoden again as his troops turned and awaited commands.
"We are proud to fight alongside men once more."
They all took up positions along the wall, looking out at a steadily approaching force that had no end in sight. Armor darker than midnight, torches illuminating each individual, banners with the White Hand of Saruman beginning to wave erratically in the quickening breeze. Thunder rumbled and lightning crackled to the heavy cadence of Uruk-hai footsteps as the sky opened up, drenching everyone as the army stopped a little ways away from the walls. They gave deep battle cries that echoed ominously throughout the area as they pounded their weapons into the ground. Archers readied their bows, and as the sound intensified a lone arrow flew and struck an Uruk in the front line, giving the inhabitants of Helm's Deep a few moments warning before the enemy began to charge.
The elves fired arrows on Aragorn's signal, and the men on Theoden's, aimed at the neck and under the arms at Legolas' word: the weak point of Uruk armor. Several more Uruks replaced each one that fell in an instant, and it wasn't long before crossbows fired back at the top of the walls and ladders were raised in an attempt to breach their defenses. Gimli welcomed them, striking the first melee blow with his axe as bows were replaced with swords. Fighting began on the wall, not a still body in sight except one.
Eltariel closed her eyes and focused on everything she could hear: the impact of the rain, the clanging of metal on metal, rallying cries, pained screams, the thud of armor on stone, the howling, whipping wind, the echoes of battle against the structure of the keep, her racing heartbeat and deep breaths. The odds weren't in their favor. Many lives would be lost tonight. She could easily be one of them. But as long as she had breath in her body, she would not let the people of Rohan or the elves of Lothlorien die in vain. She unsheathed her blades and spun around to behead one of the Uruks who had been charging towards her, eyes slowly opening and taking in the sights around her, letting her body flow with the tide of the battle.
She couldn't help the smile that rose to her face as she overheard Gimli and Legolas keeping score of how many kills they had. One finds lightheartedness in times of peril when one can, after all. That smile quickly faded as Uruks with shields briskly made their way up the causeway towards the front gates, the striking of a battering ram reverberating through the air. Eltariel fought her way towards the middle of the wall back towards her companions, where the fighting was the thickest, blades finding armor weak spots almost too easily. She fended off what Uruks she could that were targeting the archers covering the causeway, perhaps a bit too eager for a fight after so much time spent traveling as of late.
Aragorn's panicked shouting in Sindarin caught Eltariel's attention. She followed his gaze and the trajectory of Legolas' arrows to an Uruk rushing at the walls with something that would very clearly cause an explosion. Arrows barely slowed him down, and as he leapt out of sight it was as if the world stood still for a moment, everyone's heart skipping a beat in horror as a large section of the Deeping Wall was blown to rubble, shaking the entire keep like an earthquake had struck. Eltariel's ears rang as she tried to clear her head, the Light of Galadriel protecting her from the worst of the blast, even if her head was still pounding from the impact. She got to her feet unsteadily in time to see Gimli dive from the wall onto a pile of Uruks near a downed Aragorn, who recovered quickly enough to lead the small elven force behind him in an assault against the Uruks flooding the now gaping hole in their ultimate defense.
For the first time since the start of the battle, doubt crept into Eltariel's mind, and she had to remind herself to refocus. Uruks swarmed the wall still, and she couldn't afford to stand idly by and watch what was happening below, or worry about how badly things could go wrong. The enemy poured its seemingly infinite number into the battle, fresh fighters against quickly tiring soldiers and those experiencing their first (and for some, their last) battle. Each swing and step seemed to sap more energy than the last, movements becoming heavy with weariness. The rain was soaking her to the bone and obscuring her vision, the wind attempting to upset her balance. She felt herself slip, narrowly avoiding losing an arm as she rolled through, slashing the Uruk's abdomen and hearing the corpse hit the ground behind her.
She heard Aragorn's call to retreat to the keep as they all began to become overwhelmed. Haldir repeated the cry to fall back, making sure as many elves as possible were heeding his words, several Uruks closing in on him as he became the slowest moving target in the vicinity. He realized too late that he had nowhere to go except through them, and he was very outnumbered. Eltariel moved before she even registered what she was doing, her only concern being to get to Haldir in time.
Her legs and arms burned as she sprinted as fast as she possibly could towards the orc raising a sword to her childhood best friend's back. She knew better than to call his name, knowing the distraction would only seal his fate, so with a mighty leap she brought her swords down with all of her strength as she felt her flesh tear open from cold, sharp orc steel. An agonized scream sounded next to her, and several Uruks fell lifelessly to the ground not long after. It was then that everything around her once again seemed to freeze as she felt her swords slip from her grasp, a strong pair of arms catching her as she collapsed, two halves of an orc head lying at her feet. Only when she met Haldir's eyes did time resume like normal, and though the world sounded muffled and far away, his voice was loud and clear to her ears.
"Eltariel! By the Valar, what have you done?!"
Haldir's face was a mix of agony and despair, and then confusion as Eltariel chuckled weakly, looking just like the elleth he used to know.
"I'm… returning the favor," she told him.
He looked at her, truly looked at her, and saw the relief in her eyes because he was unharmed, alive. His mind flashed back briefly to when they had first met, hearing his own words come back to haunt him.
"Well, since I saved your life, that means that, one day, you'll have to return the favor."
"I never meant it like this. We were children. I—
"I would never have forgiven myself, if something had happened to you… When I… Could have been there…"
She coughed up a bit of blood as she struggled to get her words out. He smoothed her hair away from her face with a shaky, bloodstained hand and shushed her softly.
"Save your strength. I must get you away from the fighting." As he went to pick her up, she weakly shoved his arms away.
"No! I'll only be a burden. You can't swing a sword with me in your arms."
"Im ava awartha le, Eltariel!" he told her adamantly, lifting her up and into his arms. "Maethor!" he shouted to one of the elves not far off. "Enni!"
Quickly following his command, the soldier rushed to his side as Haldir ran as fast as he could towards the keep. He would not let her die here, not like this!
All the while, Eltariel's arms hung loosely around Haldir's neck. With every passing moment it was harder and harder to stay awake. She let her eyes fall to her chest plate to see a river of blood. She managed another weak chuckle. Dying in battle wasn't the worst way to go, especially if it was protecting someone she cared about. Her vision swam as she desperately clung to consciousness, watching the battlefield become littered with more and more corpses of their allies. She heard the crumbling of the gate as the Uruks broke through, and more calls to retreat, this time from Theoden himself. Her eyes briefly fell on Aragorn, who had made it to Haldir's side, speaking too fast for her to follow in her current state. Her vision went black.
The next thing she knew she was lying on the floor of the caves, her body feeling as if it were on fire, breaths painful and shallow. She picked Eowyn out of the crowd of scurrying women and children, comforting a crying mother as the doors started to fail. She let out a quiet groan as she was picked up, being carried and taken with the others who were leaving. She saw Aragorn rallying Theoden, the two of them mounting their horses for what she assumed would be the final ride out into the battle. They charged as the doors finally gave way, but what her eyes lingered on was the stream of sunlight filtering in through the windows.
Look to my coming at first light on the fifth day.
Gandalf. Gandalf was here. Then they would survive after all. Not all was lost. She let her eyes slip shut one more time with the knowledge that her companions would be in good hands.
That day, she would not wake again.
**mellon nin = my friend
**Im ava awartha le = I will not leave you
**Maethor = warrior/soldier
**Enni! = To me!
Closing A/N: Aaahhh I'm writing this on four hours of sleep, brain burnout, and crackhead energy, so I'm sorry if it's a huge mess! I'm sure I'll read it all back tomorrow and be mad at how awful it is. I just really wanted to post it once it was done. Six months today exactly since the last chapter. :'( I hope you had a lovely Thanksgiving, if you celebrate it! And I hope everyone has been doing okay over the last few months. 3 *hugs*