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Final Hope is Diminished
Through the final leg of their journey, Drifter said nothing. When Legolas caught her eye, she simply glared at him. Although he was not responsible for anything that had happened, she still used him as someone to blame other than herself for Aragorn's demise.
"Helm's Deep!" one of the Men in the front called. The woman rested her head in exasperation from the past day against the back of the Man in front of her; however, she quickly sat straight as her ride sighed contentedly at the action. It was not the first time he had done so, but Drifter was no less alarmed by it.
"Make way for Théoden!" Gamling cried as they entered the castle gate. The ranger gladly slipped off of the steed and leaned against the wall just inside the door.
"He fell…" Gimli was replying to Éowyn's questioning. Upon hearing the dwarf's statement, Drifter turned to face the wall prior to punching it almost as hard as she could, causing a few drops of blood to emit from her bruised knuckles. Throughout nearly her entire life, she had been at least partially in control of situations. But, with Aragorn's death, she felt completely lost and conquered. Life would never be the same.
"Falathiel," Éowyn suddenly addressed her, sorrow evident in her voice as she broke off and looked at Drifter's scraped hand. "What happened?"
"I've been trying to put the blame upon someone else, but it was my fault that he is dead. I had the dagger ready and…Éowyn, it was my duty to protect him, to put him on Gondor's throne…now…"
"Falathiel!" Théoden summoned the girl.
"Yes, my lord," Drifter replied with absolute formality, causing the king to pause before continuing,
"Mourning is for another time. For now, I would like your assistance in planning for our defenses."
"Of course."
An hour later, the woman was standing in the hall, arguing with Théoden over a map.
"My lord, if we do that, we will instantly be overrun!"
"Then what are you suggesting, Falathiel?! If we do not, you might as well announce to Saruman that we are here!"
"You do not understand! The Enemy already knows of our location. It's just a matter of time before…" Drifter was cut off as the doors opened. She beheld a sight she never expected to see again: Aragorn…if a bit ragged-looking. The girl backed away to lean against a pillar in disbelief. If only Aragorn could have comprehended what she had gone through and what responsibilities she had because of him, maybe he would not have ignored her presence and walked straight to Théoden.
"There is a great host coming our way," the Man reported.
"A great host, you say?" the king queried worriedly.
"All Isengard is emptied."
"How many?"
"Ten thousand strong, at least."
"Ten thousand?!"
"It is an army bred for a single purpose: to destroy the world of Men. They will be here by nightfall."
"Well, Falathiel, it seems you were right." Drifter was slightly stunned as Théoden addressed her, as was, it seemed, Aragorn at seeing her standing there.
"Umm…so it seems."
"Let them come!" As the two Men walked out to supervise the preparations, Drifter was left alone, her lips parted and her eyes incomprehensive. He didn't even say hello. She had been blaming herself for his death and yet, there he was, alive and well.
Again, some time later, Drifter had moved her position: to the Glittering Caves beneath the castle. As she and Aragorn stood studying the swords which being handed out to the old men and young boys, the latter tossed the weapon he was holding back in the pile.
"Farmers, farriers, stable boys," he noted. "These are no soldiers."
"Most have seen too many winters," Gimli pointed out from nearby.
"Or too few," Legolas corrected. "They're frightened. I can see it in their eyes. Boe a hyn: neled herain dan caer menig (And they should be... Three hundred against ten thousand)!" to which Aragorn replied,
"Si beriathar hyn ammaeg na ned Edoras (They have more hope of defending themselves here than at Edoras)."
"Aragorn, nedin dagor hen ú-'erir... ortheri. Natha daged dhaer (Aragorn, they cannot win this fight. They are all going to die)!"
"Then I shall die as one of them!" At that, the Man walked away. Legolas made to go after him, but Gimli stopped him.
"Let him go, lad. Let him be." With a growl, Drifter caused the dull sword she was holding to clatter down into the pile, tired of being ignored. Drawing her sword, she placed it against the throat of a surprised Legolas.
"You do not know what it is like to be hunted for what you are," she hissed, slowly backing the elf into a pillar. "I was chased for who and what I am. In turn, I became Falathiel: the huntress, the hunted who became the hunter. Before I turned seventeen, which was eighty-one years ago, I was protected. After Arathorn died, I became the protector, the dawn: Minuialwen. Do you think that I do not tire of hiding in the shadows, Legolas? You may not remember me and my love for you all those years ago, but know this: you would not be able to comprehend my true identity if I told you straight out." Turning and pacing the semi-circle of thirty Men which had surrounded her, Drifter continued, challengingly. "Though no one may yet know my name and heritage, you should all be aware that I have slaughtered more orcs than you can dream of killing! I have loved three men and lost them all! Before the age of twenty, nearly every single member of my family was dead! I spent literally decades wandering the wilds of Middle-Earth by myself with only the memories I clung to for company! In the past year, I have fought beside elves, Men, dwarves, hobbits, and wizards!" With that, she had them hooked. The Men, the elf, and the dwarf were staring at the woman, entranced by her powerful and unexpected speech. "And now, I am here to fight alongside you in one of the greatest and most crucial battles for the survival of Mankind since our last defeat of Sauron. My fellow Men…I cannot promise you that we will triumph on this day, but I swear to you upon this sword, handed down to me from my mother, who received it from her mother and on down the line for generations: Parn thys si pas os aelor (Dawn from the dark of evil)…that I will not rest…until either I am dead with a dozen of my slain enemies scattering the ground about me in an hour or until Sauron and his minions are vanquished for good! The Enemy is trying to silence us. Will we submit to this oppression? No! We will stand and fight for the freedom of Rohan and Middle-Earth!" The utter silence which had somehow ensued during her speech erupted into a smothering roar of cheering. One of Men began the shout,
"For Rohan! For Middle-Earth!" Drifter was shocked by how a little encouragement went so far with the relatively small group of fighters. To avoid becoming too popular in one minute, she slipped out of the still-cheering group. The noise did not die down and become replaced by an ancient war-song of Rohan until the ranger had already reached a dark, lonely hallway and leaned against the stone bricks. She had never experienced giving a pep talk like that before. Arathorn had given her tips on what encouraged the hearts of Men, but having lived in a world of solitude, the practice was completely new to her. Drifter breathed a sigh of relief and fatigue prior to hearing the dwarf's voice at the end of the hall. Laughing, he stated,
"That was marvelous, lassie! However, I must admit that I did not expect something like to come from a quiet little thing like you!" Though Drifter was more in the mood for silence than praise, she kindly smiled at her companion. "It definitely worked for those inexperienced lads." When the girl finally began to really cheer up, her eyes caught Legolas. Understandingly, Gimli walked away, leaving the elf and mixed-breed to face each other.
"Why do I not remember you, Falathiel?" he quietly asked.
"…Legolas, even Lord Elrond was unable fully understand it. Before I tell you, you must promise me that you stay with your present fiancé. She does not deserve to go through that loss as I did."
"Falathiel…"
"You must promise."
"Very well."
"Alright, then…sixty-eight years ago, I met you on a bridge in Rivendell. A few years later, you came back and asked me to marry you." Drifter smiled at the memory, but Legolas simply stared into her eyes. "Two days before you were to return to Mirkwood, I was taken by my enemies, Elrond's advisors, and thrown out of the city. You must have thought that I had betrayed you and taught yourself to forget as all elves can do once in their time in Middle-Earth. I wandered throughout many lands for decades, never able to completely settle down in one place for too long, even capturing Gollum at one point, although I had to let him go after he nearly throttled me. I could go on for hours with this…when I was seventy-one, I returned to the life of a Ranger of the North and watched over Aragorn: the duty his father charged me with. Now, here I am. I have lost my love for you, Legolas. Don't lose what you have because of me." At that, she walked away, leaving the elf stunned. It took all her will not to run back to him. She would never fully get over losing him. Eventually wandering back to the finally empty armory, Drifter found some gear which Théoden had set aside for her. After she had put on the surprisingly perfectly-fitting leather vambraces under a chain mail shirt, over which she put her vest, along with her many weapons, Drifter did not notice Aragorn's presence as he also prepared for battle nearby until Legolas entered and handed the Man his sword.
"We have trusted you this far. You have not led us astray," the elf told the ranger. "Forgive me. I was wrong to despair."
"Ú-moe edaved, Legolas (There is nothing to forgive, Legolas)." At that, Gimli came in, struggling to get his chain mail on.
"We had time, I'd get this adjusted," he grumbled as it dropped, reaching the floor. "It's a little tight across the chest." The other three companions in the room all bit back smiles upon seeing the dwarf's predicament. Suddenly, they heard a horn sound somewhere outside.
"That is no orc horn," the elf noted, racing out the door, closely followed by Aragorn. Drifter remained a moment to help Gimli in removing the strangely fitting shirt. A minute later, the woman and dwarf were running to see what everyone outside was staring at. As she reached the top of the stairs, her eyes settled upon Haldir as he stated,
"We are proud to fight alongside Men, once more." The elf began ascending the stairs towards Drifter and addressed her.
"The Lady of Light sends her greetings and wishes you to remember the Mirror. She said that you would understand." Though the woman was momentarily taken back at the statement, she once again hardened, replying,
"I gladly receive both the Lady's greetings and her advice, though it is a few decades too late. It is wonderful to see you, Haldir!" For the first time, Haldir took the initiative in embracing Drifter, who happily reciprocated.
"Is it finally my time to stand by your side?" he asked so softly that only those standing the closest could hear. Trembling at the thought of her last chance to love, the girl answered, saying,
"Yes, Haldir…with all that's left of my heart, yes!" Instantly, their lips met in a short, yet passionate kiss. Drifter felt throbbing pain and overwhelming joy at the same time. While she had grasped at impossible futures, Haldir had waited patiently for years, hoping that she would accept him. She knew that he would instantly forfeit his immortality for her. They had found each other through the confusion of life and war. A voice in the back of her mind warned her of tragedy soon to come as the woman walked with Haldir to the battlement in final preparation for the battle, but she viciously pushed it back. For the next hour, Drifter stood beside Haldir with the elven archers. When the dark of night came, a mass of orc torches could be seen approaching from a distance. It was then that the rain began to fall, the Uruk-hai beat their weapons on the ground, and the archers drew their arrows, Drifter included. Unfortunately, someone prematurely released an arrow, though the only fighting woman was impressed with its accuracy.
"You still have a chance to go into the caves, Falathiel," Haldir offered.
"No, my place is here." Instantly, the enemy host charged towards the wall with ladders clearly tall enough to reach the top.
"Tangado a chadad (Prepare to fire)!" Aragorn could be heard. In response, the elves and Drifter notched their arrows. "Leithio i philinn (Release the arrows)!" The woman grinned as her arrow perfectly hit its mark. As the Uruks began raising their ladders, Drifter sent two more arrows their way before drawing her sword. She had plenty to do when the orcs began pouring over the side.
"…ten, eleven…sixteen, seventeen…" she counted, letting all of her anger and frustration which had built up since Boromir had died flow into her fighting. Time flew by as she concentrated on nothing but revenge. It was at some point during that chaos that she heard Aragorn calling,
"Togo hon dad, Legolas (Bring him down, Legolas)!" Looking down, Drifter caught sight of a flame-bearing Uruk running towards the wall with an arrow already protruding from its shoulder. As the girl added her own arrow in the runner's chest, another projectile joined hers. Sadly, the Uruk reached his goal, causing a huge explosion, which made the entire section Aragorn was on close by, to collapse. The repercussion, in turn, caused everyone on the still-standing wall to lose their footing. After crawling to the edge of the newly-made gap and seeing that Aragorn, along with a somewhat large group of elves, was alive and charging the enemies, Drifter resumed her fighting. Only a few of the elves around her were still alive, Haldir included.
"Haldir," Aragorn called from below a few minutes later, "nan Barad (to the Keep)!"
"Nan Barad (To the Keep)!" Haldir reciprocated. Just as Drifter reached forty in her counting, she heard the elf slightly gasp. Disbelieving, she turned to see Haldir looking at his wounded arm as another Uruk approached him from behind.
"Haldir!" she called, hoping that her lover would turn in time, but to no avail. She stared uncertainly when he fell to his knees, looking about blankly at the faces of his fallen comrades before his eyes settled on Drifter. Aragorn soon came from behind to kill Haldir's mortal attacker and to catch the brave leader as he fell. The woman wouldn't believe it, yet she had no choice but to do so.
Drifter watched from the last earthen step as Galadriel gracefully filled a silver ewer from a nearby spring and turned to her.
"Will you look into the Mirror?" the Lady quietly queried.
"What will I see?" the other woman asked in turn.
Pouring the water into a silver bowl, Galadriel replied,
"Even the wisest cannot tell. For the Mirror…shows many things…things that are…things that were…and some things…that have not yet come to pass."
"You have told many people of this, haven't you?"
"You are very observant, Falathiel."
"Arathorn used to tell me that." Hesitantly, Drifter looked into the clear pool of water. Looking worriedly to Galadriel for encouragement, the Lady nodded to her…so, the ranger returned to gazing into the water.
A flash of color emitted from its depths. She cringed as a battle appeared being fought. Two rangers were left standing in the fog.
"Where is Galish?" the man questioned the woman hoarsely. The reply was an anguished scream somewhere in the mist. Desperately, the remaining rangers continued their struggle against the orcs.
"NO!!!" the woman cried.
In reality, Drifter blinked as the scene in the Mirror changed.
A woman was sitting on a bench with a hobbit, overlooking the east gate of Rivendell. Three Mirkwood elves rode into the gate, causing the woman, Drifter, to sit up, alert. As she was about to arise and run down the stairs, she saw a brown-haired elf-maiden run up to the group's leader and tightly embrace him before kissing him on the cheek. The ranger's hand resting on her sword tightened on the hilt as the male elf responded in kind to the maiden's actions. It was then that she realized that the maiden was, in fact, Miluiel.
"Is he among them?" the hobbit innocently queried.
Once again in the real world, Drifter gasped in mental agony as the Mirror closed in on the male elf's face. It was Legolas. Before she could think, the image changed once more.
A woman Drifter again recognized as herself was fighting beside a handsome, dark red-haired Man against a hoard of unusually large orcs.
"Boromir!" Drifter was screaming. In a flash of color and movement, the ranger was on the ground with the Man's head in her lap.
Instantly, the image once again changed and, to Drifter's horror, it once more displayed a battle.
"Haldir!" she called as a fair-haired elf was about to be hit from behind by another one of the larger-than-life orcs…
"No!!" Drifter screamed, jumping away from the Mirror. "No more!"
"I know what it is you saw, for it is also within my mind," Galadriel stated before making her voice heard in Drifter's mind. "It is but a sample of the suffering you have gone through and will endure."
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