Please read:
First off I'd like to start by apologizing for the delay in posting the fifth chapter. Easter weekend was pretty busy for me what with family and college finals drawing near. I would have actually liked to wait a few more days to perfect this chapter, but if I did I wasn't sure how long it would take as I don't have a lot of free time at the moment.
Secondly, I was extremely disappointed that chapter four didn't get a single review. I put a lot of time and effort into that chapter: writing it and then editing and reworking it, and I really enjoyed working on it and had hoped that others would enjoy it as well. The number of viewings was high but there was no feedback which makes me think that if a reader can't be bothered to review it's because they can't be bothered about the story. That leads me to believe that The Emerald Courtier is lacking in something, whether it's that the characters aren't believable, there isn't enough action, or the story is just generally not good. I'm beginning to feel at a loss as to how to improve my writing and the story, and impress/draw you, the reader, in. As with some pieces of writing, I may just have to start from scratch, though I seriously hope this is not the case.
That being said thank you to the few people who alerted my story and the one who favourited it – you keep my inspiration from dwindling.
-Periodic
Chapter Five: In the Shadow of the Valley of Death
"With Atë by his side come hot from hell, shall in these confines with a monarch's voice cry 'Havoc,' and let slip the dogs of war."
William Shakespeare – "Julius Caesar" Act III Scene I
Aurelia slipped from Denethor's chamber and padded along the halls. She moved quickly but calmly, her posture rigid and her chin high – as if this formal demeanor would make up for her shameful acts. Aurelia had only just reached her door when the sound of an explosion shocked the air. Spinning she flew to one of the windows in time to see the destruction of several buildings near the Eastern wall. Even from her high up position in the citadel she could hear the echoing screams.
Aurelia stumbled back from the window and crossed the hall to enter her bedroom, jamming the lock in place behind her. Her belief in the added security that a simple metal device would bring was false and irrational, but all reason was lost on her as more explosions from the city shattered the silence. She paced from wall to wall, stopping to sit on the bed only to leap up again and continue her agitated movements. She jumped every time she heard the dull thud of crumbling stone, and when pounding footsteps raced by her door Aurelia pressed herself against the opposite wall. She held her breath for several long minutes until she was sure the footsteps had passed her by and only then she realized that it was likely an escort sent to protect Denethor.
Oh God, was it possible the enemy had already breached the wall? Were they already now swarming the streets? a teeming mass of grotesque, fleshy bodies with gaping mouths and bloodthirsty eyes.
Terror filled Aurelia as she imagined hordes of orcs slaughtering their way up Gondor's streets until the white stones were slick with crimson blood.
"Wait. Wait," she called out hoarsely, fumbling with the wretched lock on her door and bolting from her room. She ran down the ornate halls, skidding around corners and slipping slightly on the polished floor.
She spotted a guard ushering other nobles down the halls and Aurelia grabbed frantically at his arm.
"Please! Please tell me what's happening?"
"Everything's fine my lady-"
"Horseshit," she snarled, her long fingers clinging to his leather jerkin like talons. "I saw them strike the wall. I demand to know what is going on!" She raised her voice imperiously but he must have seen the desperation in her eyes, as he drew her aside and began to whisper hastily.
"Sauron's army has attacked, they're focusing on the Eastern wall but it seems only to be a distraction as another force attacks the gates. That is all I know my lady, now please we are evacuating the area and moving you all to a safe place. I assure you, you will be well protected."
Her green eyes searched his face and she nodded eventually. Aurelia hurried to join the other nobles and was immediately swept up in the jostling, pushing crowd. They flowed out into the back streets and Aurelia gasped, seeing dark columns of smoke spiral from the Eastern part of the city. A hand pushed at her back and she stumbled forward, grabbing onto the back of a woman's robe to keep herself from falling.
Shouts and screams filled the air and Aurelia was aware of being herded into one of the great store houses. A small pitiful wail made her look down and she saw a street urchin with tears running down her soot streaked face looking about wildly.
"This church is filled with street filth," a surprised voice snarled.
"Well, I for one am certainly not going to stand for this! They'll have to go elsewhere. Tell that soldier there that these poor people will simply have to go elsewhere. I refuse to mix with them, it is utterly barbaric. Why look at that one there, it looks like it has never seen a lick of water in its life." The outraged voice belonged to an elderly woman with curling grey hair and a small button nose who had fixed her disgusted gaze on the small child between herself and Aurelia.
There were several cries of, "here, here!" and "preposterous!" mingled with the quieter grumbles of "geez'a brek wid ye" and "s'war oot there, wiv nay whaur else tae go".
"They can't leave, they'll die outside." Aurelia raised her voice above the rising tide of complaints.
"Lady Aurelia, surely you must see the irrationality of this communal sanctuary."
Aurelia's hand itched to slap the superior, disgusted look off the older woman's face. Instead she leant around the child, thrusting her face close to the old woman's so that they were almost nose to nose. She stared at her for a moment, green eyes narrowed and glinting with malice, upper lip curling in a dangerous sneer.
A muscle twitched in the woman's cheek and her watery blue eyes darted everywhere, unable to escape Aurelia's hateful gaze. She swallowed several times and attempted to lean away, but the push of the ever-thickening crowd would not allow her to do so.
"If you are so disinclined to adhere to the orders given by our Lord's trusted soldiers, then I suggest, madam, you step outside. I shall like to see how long you last," Aurelia breathed silkily.
The woman swallowed sharply again and stammered out a few syllables but stopped as Aurelia turned her head away in dismissal.
It felt good to have that kind of power, to glean some sort of control out of a chaotic situation – even if that control was only over the whimsical emotions of a foolish old woman. Aurelia felt hot, righteous anger fuel her, making her stand taller. She felt like a queen among commoners and seriously considered stepping up on the nearest crate to deliver a moral rousing speech about how they would make it through this siege. The kind of dramatic speech she remembered loving in Hollywood movies.
But those wonderful, brave feelings abandoned her when another missile crashed into the street outside. Aurelia's voice, raised in a panicked shriek, howled along with the rest of the citizens, noble and impoverished alike. She covered her head with her arms as the walls of the store house shuddered and dust drifted from the ceiling. Turning, Aurelia shoved her way through the crowd, keeping her face and head protected while her elbows jutted out at the sides. Rough hands pushed and pulled her, human claws raking at her exposed skin but she made it at last to one of the walls and followed it to a corner where she sank to the ground.
She shook uncontrollably: her legs, her hands, her lips, which were numbly reciting every prayer she could remember from Sunday school.
Aurelia's darting eyes landed suddenly on a familiar face, and she starred for a moment at the street urchin who must have followed her. The child, a young girl with tangled dirty blonde hair, stood watching Aurelia. Her cheeks were red and stained from her previous tears and now she was still, one small fist raised to her trembling mouth. Gingerly Aurelia reached out to the girl, turning her hand palm up in a universal gesture of peace. Just as hesitantly the girl took her hand and sunk into Aurelia's embrace, curling up on her lap and burrowing her dirty head into her chest.
Aurelia, equally glad of the comfort, crooned softly, rocking the child as best she could. Her sweet-nothing words rose and fell with her voice, repeating and murmuring constantly. At one point she became aware of switching to English, but the little girl showed no sign of upset.
Thoughts of home flooded her: the suburban house with its flowering garden that her Dad had cherished; the beat-up red sedan that her Mama complained often about but secretly loved because it had been the car that Aurelia's father had picked her up in on their first date. Aurelia had been twenty-one when she'd last seen that house, and since then she'd carried in her a secret hope that she might see it once again. It was a wretched, inspiring hope; a painful yearning that made her rise every morning and dragged her through this strange life.
Tears slipped down her cheeks and fell amongst the child's dirty locks as she realized that that day would likely never come. That in all likelihood this store house would become her final resting place and she would be one more ravaged corpse trapped beneath the ruined building. It seemed to only be a matter of time before the next missile struck their sanctuary.
Aurelia's thoughts turned to Boromir, and she wondered if he had been this afraid when facing death. She wondered if he would scoff to see her now, cowering against the wall with a small child in her arms. No wildcat, no fiery temptress, but simply a terrified woman, stripped of her mystery and passion.
She thought of Legolas and their last words. How kind he had been in the face of her rudeness, how distressed by her situation, and she had brushed him off like it was something insignificant. And now he would be on Gondor's wall, fighting for this doomed city.
"Legolas! Gimli! Help!" Through the chaos Aurelia heard a shrill voice cry out. She stared for a moment, turning her head to better catch the sound. The girl in her arms clung tighter to her, sensing her agitation.
"Legolas!" There it was again! Murmuring gently to the child, Aurelia stood up slowly, balancing the girl on her hip as she peered carefully out the window. She was only just able to catch what looked like a child running against the current of flying soldiers, his shrill cries for help falling on deaf ears.
Aurelia hesitated for a moment, knowing that leaving the store house would likely entail death. Another flaming missile struck nearby buildings and the ground quaked, the walls of their sanctuary trembled violently. To stay here could only mean death as well; better to take control of the situation, better to die fighting.
'Like Boromir,' Aurelia thought suddenly, and out of the feverish atmosphere a cool gentle breeze stroked her cheek and whispered through her hair.
Abruptly Aurelia turned to a stout looking woman beside her, her green eyes quickly assessing the figure before she thrust the girl into her arms. The woman caught the child with a stunned look on her face.
"I need you to look after her. Don't let her out of your sight!" Aurelia shouted over the noise and the woman, looking from Aurelia's once richly embroidered robe and golden earrings, to the dirty street urchin, nodded grimly.
The child reached out for Aurelia with a distressed cry, and she took the small hand, leaning forward to kiss the child's forehead. "Be good, be brave," She told her. "Stay with this woman and you'll be just fine. I promise."
Aurelia's mama had once told her never to make a promise to a child that you couldn't keep – or any promise that couldn't be kept for that matter – because they simply wouldn't understand. But it hardly seemed to matter anymore.
Aurelia pushed through the crowd, clawing her way to the front doors where two guards stood. They barred the doors as she reached for them.
"Lady, you can't go out there," one shouted over the noise.
"My friends are out there, I have to!"
"You can't. I'm sorry, it's certain death."
"I have to!" Aurelia cried again, anger fueling her sudden surge of boldness. "They're all I have. I cannot, I will not stay in here while they are in need. Please, I must try to find them!"
One guard looked at the other who continued to stare at Aurelia. "Go then," he said abruptly. "But do not expect to be let back in. Here, take this as well." He unclipped a sheathed dagger from his arsenal of weapons and pressed it into Aurelia's shaking hands.
She looked from the blade to him and felt her resolve strengthen. Nodding, she slipped out the door and into the streets. The sights that awaited her there made her freeze. Everywhere the bodies of men and orc alike lay strewn; some trampled by the Gondorian soldier's who ran for their lives.
Aurelia stood gaping, before adrenaline shocked her into action, and she began looking for the hobbit she knew to be in Denethor's service. She had been there when he'd sworn his fealty to Gondor, when Denethor had sent his surviving son back to Osgiliath, and she had seen the sorrow and regret shimmer in Pippin's eyes.
Aurelia turned down one street and then another, screaming his name as she wove through the men, ducking into alleyways and changing direction when she saw pursuing orcs. She was beginning to lose hope when she saw a small cloaked figure ahead of her.
"Pippin!" She screamed again and he turned suddenly. Seeing her, he bolted to her side instantly. "Where's Legolas and Gimli?"
"I can't find them." Pippin's blue eyes were wide with terror, his small face pinched and furrowed. "My Lady, Denethor has gone mad. He's burning Faramir alive."
Aurelia gasped. "We have no time. Come on!" She grabbed his hand and the two of them raced to the citadel. They dodged through the streets, taking short cuts Aurelia had memorized when she had first arrived in Minas Tirith. Everywhere there was chaos. Blood stained the soot streaked stones, buildings lay in burning ruins. They leapt over fallen men, some of whom cried out for help.
The sound of a horn trumpeted through the air, and Aurelia's steps faltered as she turned towards the source of the noise.
"Rohan calls," Pippin whispered, also stopping to look. They glanced at each other and grinned, turning to sprint again on newly energized limbs.
Pippin soon began to lead the way, retracing the steps Denethor had taken. They stopped outside a large oaken door, gasping for breath.
"Behind this door," Pippin managed to say, and Aurelia nodded, bracing her shoulder against the wood. Pippin followed suit and the pair of them heaved with all their might but to no avail. Distantly the horn of Rohan sounded again, and with every passing second they knew Faramir was closer to death.
Screaming with rage they battered the door, loosing themselves in desperation, and slowly, slowly, it gave way, groaning in protest to their strikes. Pippin ran through first and Aurelia quickly followed.
"Stop this madness!"
Denethor looked up as they entered, his face contorting wildly as he saw Pippin run forward to stop the advancing guards.
"Gandalf's puppet," he spat. "You will not take my son from me!" Grabbing one of the torches from a nearby guard he held it aloft for a moment and then hurled it to his feet with a cry. The pyre erupted in flames, and Denethor smiled triumphantly.
Aurelia dropped the dagger she carried to grab a flag pole and without thinking, used the butt of it to strike Denethor's chest. He fell from the pyre and she hurried to help Pippin drag Faramir to the ground, smothering the flames that burned his clothes.
"No!" Aurelia looked up to see Denethor advancing. "Treacherous whore!" He struck her hard across the face, throwing her to the side. Aurelia put a hand to her lip where his ring had torn the tender flesh. Blood pooled at her fingertips and spilled down her chin.
Denethor was wrestling with Pippin, trying to get at his son and a wild fury was ignited in Aurelia. She bared her bloodstained teeth and grabbed the flag pole, leaping to her feet and clumsily wielding it with a fierce cry. The first strike caught him on the chin, knocking him away from Pippin and Faramir. The second caught him in the stomach, driving the wind from his lungs. She paused as he struggled to his feet, watching as he touched a hand to his bruised face.
Denethor's dark eyes lifted to capture and hold her own, a slow, vicious smile creeping across his mouth. "You'll burn," he said with a laugh. "You'll burn with the rest of them. All of Minas Tirith goes up in flames, and you, my lady, will be cast into the eighth circle of hell!"
With a yell Aurelia swung the pole, striking Denethor hard on the chest. He stumbled backwards into the pyre, and with a snarl struggled upwards. A low groan was just audible and Denethor stopped, watching as Faramir slowly opened his eyes.
"My son." The preciously spoken words were whispered from Denethor who gazed at Faramir with wonder and love. Flames licked up his oil soaked robes, and his face convulsed in agony as he was engulfed. Aurelia shielded her eyes from the sight of the burning man who stumbled away from the burning wood and ran outside to his inevitable death.
The flag pole slipped from her numb fingers and she dropped to her knees beside Pippin, who gripped Faramir's shirt in a white knuckled grasp.
"My Lord," Aurelia called softly to him, touching a cold hand to his hot cheek. "Faramir. Stay with us, you will be safe soon." She turned to Pippin who looked at her with a sort of expectancy – for what she didn't know.
"The city is overrun by now; this citadel is the safest place for people. We have to move them up here." Aurelia was surprised by how calm her voice seemed: slightly short of breath but otherwise quite detached. As if knocking a man into a raging fire and witnessing his death held little significance, but she couldn't think of those things now.
Pippin nodded quickly. "You look after him," He said to the four guards who had gathered around them. "Get him a bed and rest for now."
Aurelia got to her feet, stooping to pick up the dagger she had dropped. She turned to Pippin who nodded again, resting a hand on the pommel of his small sword. Smiling, she moved ahead to slip out the door and once again they were running through the city.
It seemed the bodies of orcs had tripled, and soldiers that had once run for their lives now turned to give chase to the fleeing monsters.
"Pippin! We're winning!" Aurelia cried, and Pippin gave a whoop of joy.
Every civilian they passed they urged them on to the citadel. They worked quickly, stopping often, and at last they reached the store house. Smoking ruins were all that remained and Aurelia clutched at her chest to see that some people had not made it out.
"Aurelia!"
She turned at Pippin's call and was flooded with relief, seeing that most of the refugees had left in time, hiding in various places about the market. Amongst their midst was a familiar stout woman and a dirty blonde child. Dodging the soldiers, Aurelia ran to them.
"You have to get to the citadel," She commanded. "Keep close to the walls. Run from any orcs you see and whatever you do, do not stop moving! You must reach higher ground. There are a few guards left up there that will protect you. Go! Now!"
Aurelia and Pippin worked tirelessly, pulling people who had been trapped by fallen debris, yelling until they were hoarse.
She helped one man lift a splintered timber that had fallen and crushed another woman's leg, working together until she was free. The man turned to help the woman to her feet but his eyes caught sight of something over Aurelia's shoulder and he screamed. On instinct Aurelia jumped away as the man fled, and a crimson stained blade flashed by her, slaughtering the woman they had freed only moments before. Aurelia stumbled backwards as hot blood splattered across her front. Her hands groped wildly for the dagger she had tucked into a pocket of her robes only to find it had fallen out.
The great beast turned its head in her direction slowly. It sniffed once, twice, and wiped the blood from its face, smiling lazily at Aurelia.
"All alone my pretty," it cooed, advancing slowly on her. "Yes, yes all alone."
"Please," Aurelia's breath caught in her chest as she gibbered unintelligibly, "Please have mercy. Don't kill me. Oh God, I b-beg you, mercy. Please mercy."
"What's that pretty love? Mercy? It don't exist. Only pain n'hunger here and I'm feelin' ravenous."
She didn't have time to draw breath to scream as it raised its cruel blade high and struck at her body.
Atë: The Greek goddess of evil and misfortune
"Geez'a brek wid ye" translates to: "Give us a break would you" (in case you had trouble understanding the thick accent lol.)