A/N: So yeah. I don't own anything.
**Chapter 32**
***Eomer's POV***
Three days. It had been three days at a hard gallop as our army raced across the plains to reach Gondor in hopes of preventing the city of Minas Tirith from being taken. The only breaks that we had were the few hours of rest that we halted for when the plains were too dark to navigate through.
I glanced over to Deirdre, who had been riding by my side since we had left Dunharrow, and since then we had talked every once in a while when the sound of the wind alone was unbearable to take any longer. It was getting to be one of those times, though we had slowed down so as to preserve as much of the horses strength before making the charge forward when the White City came into view.
"Do you not fear that you will face death in battle and lose your chance at a life with Legolas?" I asked her, thinking back to our previous conversations when we had talked about what she wanted in life if we were to survive the war.
"I fear the loss of my chance for life with Legolas. But if I should fall, I can only hope that I may die an honorable death in battle." She responded her smile was slightly lacking, covered by the slightest trace of worry in her eyes.
"I doubt that will be your fate. You have faced many dangers and still live to tell the tale." I commented with a smile on my face, hoping the light tone would bring her comfort.
"I'm going to chalk that up to sheer, dumb luck." She said laughingly, her smile wide upon her face.
"Well, you'd better hope that your luck carries then." I retorted, laughing as I spoke.
"And you had better hope that your skill carries you through this battle then, horse lord. For surely it will not be me." She quipped back still laughing.
"My lady, I am quite sure that it will." I informed her, speaking as though I had the upmost confidence that this was true. But I doubted the words even as they left my mouth.
"Never fear, Eomer. There aren't that many Orcs." She commented, teasingly but the care was still there. It helped that she knew the fate of the war and so I took her words seriously.
"I don't know the meaning of the word 'fear', Deirdre." I returned.
"You should have told me that sooner, Eomer." She feigned shock and worry, her eyes opening wide as she gawked at me. "We are riding to war. There is no time to give you a vocabulary lesson."
And with that she spurred her horse to move faster. Looking ahead, I saw the White City of Minas Tirith on the horizon with several Nazgul flying above the city and war machines standing before the gates hurling boulders at the multi-leveled city. The smile disappeared from my face immediately and I rode to my uncle's side, noticing that Deirdre rode beside him as well.
"Form the ranks, it is but a short ride left and Gondor needs our aid." Theoden ordered his captains around him, all of whom nodded their heads and rode to the men to pass the order along. "The time for battle has come."
I nodded my head and glanced over at Deirdre before turning round to call out the order to form ranks.
"Indeed it has, my lord." I heard Deirdre's voice from behind me next to my uncle, her smile shining through her voice. "Honor and glory await us all."
Turning back to face the battle outside of Minas Tirith, I rode to the left of my uncle moving forward with him. The Pelennor Fields came ever closer, until finally we were less than half a league away from the soldiers in front of Minas Tirith. My uncle turned to face me as we halted awaiting his order to charge the enemy.
"Eomer, take your Eored down the left flank." He ordered me, to which I nodded my head and began to turn my horse toward the left flank where my men awaited me.
However, before I could go anywhere I heard Deirdre calling me to stop. I glanced back around to look at her to see her riding up to my side so that our horses were side by side with only a hands-width between them.
"Don't I get a hug before we head off into battle." She chided me, before bringing her arm so that it wrapped around my waist and she leaned in, embracing me with one arm. "Now get out of here. You smell like horse."
Before I could comment she had pulled herself away and began moving back towards my uncle.
"You'd better survive this battle, Deirdre, because I'm going to get you back for that." I called, causing her to turn back and flash a bright smile at me.
Shaking my head, I headed to the left flank. My eyes turned to my uncle, who had just directed the other captains and had sent Grimbold to the right company.
"Flank ready!" I called out, signaling my men to prepare for the ride into the Orc lines.
After a few brief words with my uncle, Deirdre returned to her place in the line amongst the rest of the men. To my surprise she opened her mouth and began singing the march that she had taught all the men around the fire back in Dunharrow. For the first several words her voice came out alone, but then the other men joined in. I stared at her as she sang, her voice had picked up the same accent of my people when she sang and her hair blew wildly around her. She looked like a legend. As though she was an ancient warrior queen come back to help Rohan and Gondor in a time of need. Shaking away those thoughts, I joined in the song as we finished the first verse.
***Deirdre's POV***
Theoden spoke to his men after having sent Eomer to the left flank. I knew that I was going to be in trouble with the Captain when the battle was over, but the comment had successfully worked to lighten the mood a little before we rode to what would be many people's deaths. Finally, once the other captains were dispersed to where they were going to go, Theoden turned to look at me.
"I heard tale that you had a song for battle. Would you sing the first verse or so for the men?" Theoden asked me, which caused my eyes to widen and a blush to spread across my cheeks.
"Of course, my lord." I responded before returning to my place amongst the men.
With one last glance over to my right to see that Eowyn and Merry were only two horses away, I opened my mouth and began to sing the only war march that I knew.
Axes flash, broadsword swing,
Shining armors piercing ring,
Horses run with a polished shield,
Fight those bastards 'til they yield.
Midnight Mare and Blood red Roan,
Fight to keep this land your own,
Sound the horn and call the cry,
How many of them can we make die!
After the first two lines, the voices of the men around me joined in the march and filled the air. But everyone halted once we finished the first verse. All eyes immediately went to the King as he sat astride his horse before our army.
"Arise! Arise riders of Rohan! Spears shall be shaken; shields shall be splintered, a sword day, a red day ere the sun rises!" Theoden called out to his men as we all awaited the charge into battle and death.
All the spears around me lowered into position so that we could attack the Orcs and break their lines as they held their own pikes in defense of our attack. Having no spear to hold before me, I pulled my bow from my back and notched an arrow in it. My knees tightened on my mount, holding on since I would not have the reins in my hands. Theoden drew his sword out and began riding down the front line of our army clashing his sword against the spears in a rally.
"Ride now, ride now! Ride! Ride for ruin and a world's ending! Death!" he shouted as he rode down the lines.
"Death!" The cry echoed back from every man in the army, my own cry for death leaving my lips and meshing with the men around me.
"Death!" Theoden called once more. Earning the same reaction calling for death to come to the field, whether it is our own or the death of the Orcs before us.
"Death!" he called one final time, earning the same response. "Forth Eorlingas!"
The sound of our horns blaring was the signal for every man to race forward, urging our horses into the spears before us. As soon as we began racing toward their lines, an arrow flew from my bow striking down the first Orc in the line before. My hand flew back to my quiver, before notching another arrow and sending it into the line once more. In my head I began counting my kills as I launched three more arrows into the line before me prior to having to draw my swords and our lines crashed together in a fierce collision of blood and death. Screams erupted from the injured parties, mixing the sounds of pain between the Orcs and the men who fell to their pikes.
Follow orders as you're told,
Make their Yellow blood run cold,
Fight until you die or drop
A force like ours is hard to stop
The march continued in my head and I think some of the men must have taken up the march once more. My blades sliced through the necks of two more Orcs.
Ten. Eleven. Twelve. I counted internally, leaving behind me a trail of lifeless Orcs. More and more Orcs fall to my blades leaving nothing but their blood staining my blades and the ache of pain in my hand and shoulder. Thirteen. My eyes flicker to Eowyn and Merry who are striking down the Orcs as they also charge over the lines. Fourteen. Fifteen. Arterial spray spurted from the severed artery in the neck of the Orc that I just sliced across the neck, black blood splashing onto my face.
Close your mind to stress and pain,
Fight 'til you're no longer sane,
Let not one damn cur pass by,
How many of them can we make die!
Sixteen. Seventeen. Eighteen. Blades flying through flesh and screams of the dying mixing with the gurgle of dying breaths through throats that were now slicked in their own blood. Our company had torn through the lines of Orcs like the water of the river Isen did when the Ents broke the dam. Nineteen. Twenty.
"Make safe the city!" Theoden called, directing us to herd the Orcs toward the river where they could no longer assault the city.
My eyes raced upwards at the sound of a foreign horn being blown. There had been a chance that we would destroy the army of Orcs by the end of the afternoon, as our numbers outdid theirs and we plowed through their lines. But as I looked up and saw the arriving reinforcements for the enemy, which consisted highly of Oliphants now, I couldn't help but feel fear that we would lose the battle. Twenty-one. Thundering footsteps heavier than any horse came from the approaching army.
"Re-form the lines!" Theoden bellows, causing everyone to abandon what they were doing and head back to form the lines once more. "Re-form the lines!"
Twenty-two. I rode back to where Theoden was, finding my place in line beside Merry and Eowyn. I glance over hesitantly at them, wanting to make sure that they were fine. I met eyes with Merry, who nodded his head and gave me a weak smile.
"Sound the charge! Take them head-on. Charge!" Theoden roared out, along with the sound of a horn being blown by one of the men.
I tightened my hold on my swords, before placing the reins between my teeth in hopes that I would be able to steer when we charged towards the massive beasts. Twenty-three. A stray Orc moved ahead of me and I severed its head from its shoulders.
Guard your women and children well,
Send these bastards back to hell,
We'll teach them the ways of war,
They won't come here anymore.
Before our lines came the Oliphants, swinging their heads back and forth creating a deadly pendulum with their tusks. Twenty-four. Another Orc met its end to my blade and in return pain shot through my hand. Ignoring the sounds of those dying and being thrown off of their horses by the swaying tusks, I ride forward urging Bladen hastily when I have the most time and made it past the point where their tusks would have clashed with me. I glanced over to my right and saw Eowyn and Merry riding between the legs of the Oliphant beside the one that I rode beneath. My swords flashed out and slashed into the back of the knees of the Oliphant sending its head down toward the ground. I mimic the movement again on the back legs, knowing that Eowyn had done the same thing. Twenty-five. Although I still think that Oliphants should count for more than one.
Use your shield and use your head
Fight 'til everyone is dead
Raise your flag up to the sky
How many of them can we make die!
Haradrim fall from the downed Oliphant and my blades flash through them as they struggle to stand from the ground. All around me are the mutilated of corpses of warriors that went into battle. One of the Oliphants rears up, being shot in the head by several of the Rohirrim and as the people roll off of its back, I slice my way into them. Twenty-six, seven, eight, nine. Thirty. I keep count as their blood splashes onto my armor and mount. Thirty-one. Thirty-two. Thirty-three.
Distant calls from the King and for Merry came from around me, but I paid them no heed. A dark shadow passed over where I rode, as I continued to slice my way through the enemy. Thirty-four. Thirty-five. Dang that one was a bleeder, the dead Haradrim's blood smattered my face.
Turning back around I rode toward where the rest of the army fought, I let my swords sever spinal columns from behind. Thirty-six. Thirty-seven. An Oliphant tail whipped past me, knocking into my side and tossing me from Bladen, who ran off trampling another couple Orcs. Rolling to my feet, I could see Theoden in the distance still on his horse. Thirty-eight. Thirty-nine. Forty. Block and slash. The guttural cry of a dying man who is holding his entrails in and trying to stay alive rang from beside a fallen horse. Forty-one.
"Merry!" I hear Eowyn call; I glanced over to her see her fighting several Orcs around her.
Forty-two. Forty-three. Mixing with the Orcs around me were Haradrim. I leaned backwards, avoiding the sword of one of the Orcs which sliced through the air where my throat had been. Forty-four. Ducking below the blade level, I plunged my sword up into the gut of the Orc that attacked me. Forty-five. My leg swiped backwards, knocking a Haradrim off of his feet before I slammed a blade through his chest. A short ways away from me, Merry was fighting several Orcs and Haradrim even once he had been lifted from the ground he stabbed his short sword into the throat of the man who held him. Forty-six. Forty-seven. More corpses piled up around me. I jumped up onto a small pile before slamming down throwing my weight into the back of one of the Orcs and knocking it to the ground. Forty-eight.
About fifteen feet to my right was the body of the Nazgul mount, its neck stretching out to taste the flesh of a pinned Theoden. Forty-nine. Fifty. My swords continued to cut through flesh, ending lives with every thrust. Fifty-one. Fifty-two.
Dawn has broke the time has come,
Move your feet to a marching drum.
We'll win the war and pay the toll
We'll fight as one in heart and soul.
A blow to my right arm made me lower the arm before I sent my left sword through the face, sticking out of the back of the Orcs head. Fifty-three. Fifty-four. My swords swung around me in a whirlwind motion, slicing through more flesh. Fifty-five. Fifty-six. Fifty-seven. My breath came out ragged after a Haradrim sent his fist into my stomach. I doubled over, before swiping his legs out from under him and sending my sword into his chest.
From my left, a horse came racing past. It's rider throwing a spear into the chest of a nearby Orc. I threw myself to the side, rolling on the ground to avoid being trampled as another of the horses passed through where I had stood moments before. Fifty-eight. Driving my sword upwards as I came out of the roll and passing through the flesh underneath its chin and up through its head. Momentum carried me to where I tripped over the body of a downed Haradrim and went tumbling until I crashed into the lifeless body of the Nazgul mount.
The world around me spun, as I slowly rose from the ground before slicing through an Orc that tried to sneak up on me from behind. Fifty-nine. A Haradrim approaches, only to be sliced through with both of my blackened swords. Sixty.
At the front of the Nazgul mount is Eowyn as she dodged the mace that the Witch King had brought down to crush her. She dodged a few times, while I fought to reach her cutting down three more Orcs in my path. Her cry of anguish makes me turn to look at her as she cradled her arm in her hand that had been smashed when she blocked the mace's blow with her shield. The dark shape of the witch king towered over the woman dressed in the guise of a soldier of Rohan. Finally, my path to the witch king is clear and I race up behind him.
Midnight Mare and Blood red Roan
Fight to keep this land your own
Sound the horn and call the cry,
How many of them can we make die!
"Fool. No man can kill me." The dark voice hissed out from behind its shadowed mask. "Now die!"
I plunged my swords through the small spaces between the plates in his armor, sheathing my blades in his dead flesh. Beside me, Merry stabbed his sword into the back of the wraith's knee. Pain erupted from my hands, but I gripped the hilts as hard as I could, refusing to let go and allow him to move. Merry, not expecting the force to throw him back, released the hilt of his sword as it burns into his flesh leaving pain racing through his arm. The same pain cuts through my bones, making them grind together and I bite harshly into my lip to keep control of my limbs. Blood trickled down from my mouth and the taste of iron pooled on my tongue.
"Now Eowyn." I called, urging her to finish the wraith as I knew my strength was mere moments from leaving me.
She rose and tore her helmet from her head, staring into the empty void where his face would be. Raising her sword ready to plunge it into his face, she did not waiver as she spoke.
"I am no man." She declared.
A fierce battle cry came from her lips as she stabbed her sword into the mask, slicing through the back of the head and I moved to the side to avoid being killed by her blade as well. However, I wasn't quite fast enough. Pain erupted along my cheek as I felt her blade slice cleanly through my flesh, scraping against the bone. Pain erupted in her arm, as she pulled her sword free and was thrust back by the last of the force that the witch king had. Which not only sent her back, but as his mask crumpled into a ball of jagged metal, his body exploded out with a shock wave, the same body that my own swords were still sheathed in.
I flew backwards, smashing harshly against the ground and losing my breath. A scream ripped through my throat as my own swords pierced my flesh, tainted with the black blood of the Nazgul King. Driving into my left shoulder and along the edge of the right side of my waist, I lay on the brown field with my swords protruding from my body as I felt agony consume me.
Axes flash, broadswords swing
Shining armors piercing ring
Horses run with a polished shield
Fight those bastards 'til they yield.
Midnight Mare and Blood red Roan
Fight to keep this land your own
Sound the horn and call the cry
How many of them can we make die!
**End Chapter 32**
Sorry about not having any Saffron in this chapter but it felt more natural for this one to just be from Deirdre's POV. So sorry if you want some more Saffy, but never fear for her part of the story is coming in the next chapter. The song in this chapter is the March of Cambreadth and it's something that my brother and his friends used to sing.
Please Review XD Reviews make the author post faster.