The villagers had taken all the torches save for one, which Marian clutched as she stood alone in the semi-darkness, desperately trying to conjure up some semblance of a strategy— preferably one that would aid the men fighting.
"So stupid!" she muttered to herself. Although she had been trying to avoid looking for the past several minutes, she threw a glance over her shoulder to the Uruk-hai lying on the cave floor, eyeing their thick armor still glistening with rain. Perhaps if she looked the part, any further monsters she encountered would leave her be?
She approached slowly, even knowing they were dead. A voice in the back of her head screamed at her to stop, but she crouched next to one of them, shivering slightly. Having seen an Uruk-hai up close in the past was not the same as this— now she had time to study their filthy hair, matted with blood; to inhale the sour smell that clung to their skin; to notice how their ears were slightly pointed, a horrible imitation of elvish beauty. Marian reached out, but a wave of fear ran through her the moment her fingers brushed the rough edge of its helm. She leapt to her feet, backing away as quickly as she could. It was no use; she would have to venture forward with nothing but her own fledgling skill.
The main tunnel was dark and drafty as she stood at its entrance. If she strained her ears, faint shrieks and the clash of metal on metal could be heard in the distance. There was no way to know if any more Uruk-hai were lurking in the tunnel, but she knew she had to leave behind her torch just in case. Regretfully, Marian cast the torch aside and drew her blade. Éowyn's parting words echoed endlessly in her head, and she turned them into a mantra.
"Keep your blade up," she muttered to herself. "Don't drop it for one second."
One step into the tunnel. Then another. The light behind her shriveled slowly into nothingness, and she found herself creeping forward in the pitch black. She trailed one hand along the wall, stopping every few feet to listen intently. Other than the growing noise of the battle, she heard no sign of Uruk-hai entering the passageway. This emboldened Marian, and she quickened her pace. Perhaps, she reasoned, the tides had turned, and the noises she heard were the sounds of triumph over the enemy. As she drew closer to the end of the tunnel, her hope was further kindled by the faintest smudge of early morning light that began to permeate the darkness.
At last, the cave exit came into sight, and Marian's heart jumped into her throat. She had convinced herself that the men of Rohan would be winning the battle; that any alternative was impossible. When she stepped across the threshold, however, a very different sight from what she had imagined met her eyes.
Bodies. Bodies everywhere, scattered and broken on the ground just a few hundred feet away. She pulled her eyes from the ghastly sight, quickly retreating into the shadows once she spotted Uruk-hai clamoring around near the rear entrance of the fortress. Despair leached into her— where were the men defending the wall? Why were Uruk-hai streaming inside, wholly unchecked? Were any of them still—
No. She brushed that thought aside. If all the men had died and the battle was completely lost, surely the enemy would have overrun the caves as well. Instead, it seemed they were preoccupied with getting inside the fortress. Perhaps there was still a fight happening that she couldn't see. Either way, there was no going back into the caves— she had decided to help Éowyn in whatever way she could, and she wasn't leaving until she had tried.
With the gathering dawn aiding her eyesight, Marian's gaze strayed toward the wall that ran between the fortress itself and the side of the mountain. It seemed to be split in two, massive chunks of stone strewn across the ground. Taken aback, she wondered how in the world the Uruk-hai had managed such a feat. And were there still large numbers lurking on the other side of the wall, or had they all made their way through and inside the fortress?
Marian decided she needed to see the bigger picture, and that meant getting to the other side of the wall. She stepped forward, slipping out of the tunnel with her knife held aloft. Edging along the side of the mountain, Marian felt the rough stone scratching at the back of her head and snagging at her clothes, but she stayed as close as she could and willed herself to become invisible even as the morning grew brighter. Inch by inch, she crept across the grassy expanse that led to the wall. She drew level with the stairway leading into the back of the fortress, where a few Uruk-hai still lingered. Their rough voices carried on the breeze, reaching her ears indistinctly. Marian muttered her only words of comfort over and over: "Keep your blade up, keep your blade up, keep—"
"HEY!"
She froze as every last Uruk-hai on the steps turned in her direction. A lone Uruk-hai stood at the very bottom, sword in one hand, gesturing at her with the other. Its roar echoed clearly across the distance.
"That little rat's trying to sneak away!"
Marian ran for her life.
Shrieks and growls followed her as she sprinted faster than she ever had before. Her mind was consumed by a single goal: Get to the wall. She didn't know what would happen once there, but certain death awaited her if she stayed put. Perhaps this would be the distraction that Éowyn and the villagers would need to escape safely. Terrified that she would falter otherwise, Marian didn't allow herself to turn around even as she heard the heavy breath of the quickest Uruk-hai growing louder behind her. Only when it sounded like the monster was almost upon her did she toss a glance over her shoulder. It seemed to happen in slow motion— she saw the Uruk-hai raise its sword, still barreling toward her— out of pure instinct she threw herself to the ground as it swung the blade in an arc where her head had just been. Its momentum carried the Uruk-hai past her as she scrambled to her feet, her former litany running through her head.
Keep your blade up, keep your blade up, keep your blade up—
The Uruk-hai turned and she gripped the knife with both hands, a scream tearing out of her as she slashed across the monster's throat with all of the strength she possessed in her body.
Black blood sprayed everywhere, covering her face and drenching the front of her dress. Marian reeled backward, wiping at her eyes furiously and spitting on the ground, trying desperately to clear the wretched taste of Uruk-hai blood from her mouth. Roars sounded out and she spotted the rest of them still running toward her, all heavily armored and brandishing weapons. She needed no further encouragement, and broke into a sprint once again.
She was almost to the wall now, dodging and jumping over chunks of stone and dead bodies alike. With no earthly idea what lay on the other side of the wall, Marian hurled herself into the stream and splashed through. With a jolt of fear, she realized an incredible number of the Uruk-hai were still gathered on the plains— their attention was focused on the main ramp and the front gate, but Marian knew it was only a matter of time before they noticed her. Miraculously, a huge ladder appeared in the corner of her vision as she passed through the rift in the wall, and Marian swung herself around without a second thought and began climbing. It looked as if they had raised additional ladders earlier in the battle, which were now lying flat on the ground. She heard screeches from the army behind her— there was no telling if it was in response to sighting her or simply more battle cries. It was some twenty feet to the top, but in no time at all she was halfway there. She heard the Uruk-hai pursuing her sloshing across the water. One by one they reached the bottom of the ladder and started up, but Marian had the advantage of being much smaller and much lighter, with no armor to burden her.
Marian heaved herself over the side of the wall, thankful none of the enemy appeared to be there, and turned to give the ladder the most forceful shove she could muster. It lurched backward, teetering in the air for a moment as the Uruk-hai still on it roared, before falling to the ground with a crash. This time she knew for certain that the Uruk-hai bellowing out had seen the ladder fall, and it was only a matter of time before they reached her. Marian tripped as she backed away from the edge, looking down for the first time to be met with the sight of layers of corpses, bloody and pierced with all manner of weapons. She clapped a hand to her mouth, horrified. Her eyes roamed over the carnage even as she longed to look away— NO.
Her stomach dropped as she saw a shock of pale blonde hair and she threw herself forward onto her knees, turning the body over, tears already streaming down her face—
She sucked in a shuddering breath. It was an elf, but not Legolas. This one was still every bit as regal looking, with a straight nose and wide, staring eyes. She lay him gently back on the ground, torn between an awful kind of relief and sorrow. As Marian studied her surroundings more closely, she saw there were other elves mixed in with the men and Uruk-hai, all blonde and wearing helms. Were any of them Legolas? How could she even begin to find his body if he was here?
At that moment, a deafening horn blast exploded through the air, rattling up through the very stones of the wall themselves. Marian clapped her hands over her ears and stood, feeling a little unsteady. A second blast rang out, and as she looked out at the Uruk-hai gathered around the ramp, a great commotion erupted. Their hordes surged forward, but at the same time were buffeted back, but by what—?
There!
Marian ran, nearly throwing herself off the wall in her eagerness to see what was happening. She spotted the flag of Rohan, borne by a rider close to who she assumed was the king, but the shapes of the other riders were too hard to make out across the distance. They were riding out alone, no more than nine or ten of them, slashing their way through enemy ranks with an impressive vigor. Squinting, Marian could just make out the glint of sunlight against a golden head, and she knew with a certainty deep in her bones that it was Legolas. But even as she was filled with a fierce joy, she watched as the Uruk-hai pressed in around them and understood that they could not hold out for long.
Just as she had this thought, the sunrise fully broke over the far rise, catching her attention. She looked up, and a figure dressed in pure white atop a white horse stood at the crest of the hill. Before Marian even had time to consider who it could be, hundreds of warriors appeared along the ridge, led by a man who held up a large horn and blew out a rallying note. Cheers and whoops arose from the remaining fighters on the ground as the figure in white started the charge down the almost too-steep hill, the rays of sunlight brightening into a burst of white light that burned away all of Marian's fear, leaving her with an overwhelming sense of wonder.
Their company of men, at last with the forces they needed provided by Gandalf and the warrior Erkenbrand, drove the Uruk-hai swiftly back, straight into the forest that most definitely had not been there when the battle began.
"Stay out of the forest! Keep away from the trees!"
Legolas stopped his horse at Éomer's words, watching the remaining Uruk-hai flee toward the shadow of the branches— they had an eerie feeling to them, like predators lying in wait. Seconds later, he understood why as shrieks of terror rose up out of the greenery, which shook and writhed of its own accord. Then slowly, the movement of the trees ground to a halt and they were still once more. His companions sat in equal astonishment, silent for several long beats before Gandalf spoke.
"Come, my friends."
The wizard started his way back across the battlefield, the others following suit. Legolas found he could not tear his thoughts— or his gaze— from the trees. Were they conjured by Gandalf? And why did it feel as if the trees were regarding him back?
Suddenly he felt a prickle on the back of his neck and turned, eyes drawn inexplicably toward the fortress. He was not one to often find himself surprised, but the sight of Marian, bloody and standing alone like a dark-haired ghost on the deeping wall, almost knocked the air out of his lungs. He knew none of the others would be able to see her at this distance, but he didn't bother to explain as he urged his horse forward and overtook them all, galloping as fast as he could across the plains.
Marian saw one of the riders who had been lingering turn and abruptly fly forward, passing by the others in his party. As he drew nearer, she saw a gleam of blonde hair and grinned.
Legolas. He must have seen her standing there, watching. Then at once, the grin slid off her face.
Legolas. Levelheaded, practical, concerned with her safety… Marian winced. Oh, he was going to kill her for this. She passed a hand over her forehead, which came away bloodstained, while the sound of hooves striking stone rang out— he had ridden up the ramp.
"Oh my—" she looked down at herself for the first time and saw her disaster of a dress. She cast her mind around wildly, thinking there had to be a way to hide her appearance—
But then Legolas ran down the steps onto the wall, and all thoughts left her. Her hand released the knife that she hadn't realized she'd been holding aloft the entire time, and it clattered to the ground as he drew nearer. She found herself rushing forward, unsure of her own intentions. They collided, and she threw her arms around him as Legolas did the same, holding her tightly to himself.
"You are covered in blood." His voice was muffled in her hair.
"Am I?"
Legolas pulled away, keeping a hold on her forearms, his eyebrows furrowed. She drank in the sight of his face, they way he looked in his armor, the feeling of his hands—
"Mari, why are you here?" His eyes strayed past her to the stained knife on the ground.
Marian pulled herself back to the present and shrugged in an effort to appear nonchalant. If she told Legolas why she was really here… well, she didn't imagine he'd do a jig and offer his congratulations.
"Oh, you know…" she hedged, wondering if it was too much to hope he might accept that as a sufficient explanation.
Legolas frowned. "Clearly I do not."
Marian considered, for a moment, trying to lie her way out of this. It was as if Legolas could read her thoughts.
"Tell me the truth."
"I— well you know, I was with Éowyn in the caves, and she— that is, I— decided to… she left with the rest of the villagers, and…" Marian swallowed. "I didn't."
"...Why?"
"To buy them time?" She cringed as the words left her mouth in the form of a question. Her actions suddenly seemed rash, verging on idiotic in the face of Legolas' disbelieving look that was quickly turning to anger.
"How could you do that?" His voice was a hiss. "Do you have no regard for your own safety?"
Marian cast around for an appropriate response that wouldn't make her out to be some sort of fool— for some way to explain the conviction that had led her to leave the caves on her own, armed with nothing but a long knife. She didn't know how to put it into words.
"It was my decision."
"No," he said furiously. "A decision like that does not lie with you."
"Who does it lie with if not with me? This is my life, you know! It matters!" She was nearly crying now, whether from the simple force of an argument or from emotion, she couldn't tell.
"Then act like it," he snapped, turning on his heel and striding away.