Chapter Twelve
Legolas pulled an arrow from his bow and fired at the sudden rush of orc riders. Again and again. As the thunderous hooves enveloped him, he swung with one hand into the saddle behind Gimli. The parties clashed, war cries echoed from either side.
"Oh, stuff horses!" Gimli yelled and the slid off its back, brandishing his axe.
They fought to a cliff edge, and all of a sudden a dead warg fell on Gimli. He heaved, and then another warg came over the top. Legolas shot at it.
"That one counts as mine!" Gimli puffed. Just as he was about to get free, an orc sat on top of the pile. Gimli broke its neck, but it only added more weight to the pile. It was most uncomfortable.
Aragorn, leapt on a warg, and attacked its rider. The orc wrenched something from his neck and let go and Aragorn was forced to hold on for dear life as it thrashed all over the place. As it thrashed over the cliff.
Frodo slid down the rocky hill where Sam fell, despite Sméagol's pitiful cries. He couldn't be dead, no. He was not. Frodo could see him; he was not hurt, but buried in rocks up to the waist, in full view of the marching soldiers. "Sam!" he rasped as dust and sand flew into his mouth. He reached Sam quickly, and they began clutching at the rocks, but the cloud of dust Frodo had left had attracted two soldiers.
In desperation Frodo threw the elven cloak over Sam and him.
The soldiers stopped, and looked around in confusion. All they could see were rocks, scattered around. But they could have sworn that they heard breathing…
Frodo and Sam's fearful pants seemed far too loud and Sam held his breath, as they stared with horrified eyes at the cloaked feet of the Eastern Warriors came closer, closer. There was a gap between the cloak and the ground, which was how they could see the Eastern Warrior's feet at all.
But soon the Warriors gave up. They went back to their ranks, and when Frodo could see the last of the troops he flung off the cloak and he and Sam scampered in the rocks again. They were always a good team, and Sam was free very quickly. They silently scurried to a large piece of mountain which had fallen centuries ago.
"Mordor. I'm not asking you to come with me Sam." Frodo murmured sadly.
"I know, Mr. Frodo, I know." Sam looked as the last fifty or so troops processed toward the gates.
"One, two, three!" Frodo grunted, and he scampered around the edge of the rock.
"NO!" squealed Sméagol, who had incidentally followed them down the mountain. "Mustn't go that way! He catch you! He catch nice master!"
"Sméagol I have to!" said Frodo with gritted teeth, trying to go again. Time was running out.
"NO! Don't give him the precious! He catch you! There is another way!" Sméagol panted desperately.
Frodo stopped and looked at him. "Another way into Mordor?"
"Why haven't you mentioned it before!" cried Sam.
"Because master did not ask!" Sméagol squealed, and Frodo looked at him thoughtfully.
"Mr. Frodo, no!" Sam said in dismay.
Frodo looked at Mordor in a pained way. "Show us this other way, Sméagol." He sighed as the black gates boomed shut.
"Ello, come on!" Éowyn cried in distress as Ello stopped and shuddered. Calls of "Helms Deep!" and "we made it, my lady, thank you" just passed over Éowyn's head. She was watching Ello. Ello's eyes glassed over, and when she came around her face was white.
"No," she whispered desperately, "No!"
"Ellora!" Éowyn ordered sharply. "We are nearly there! Come with me, now!"
Ello whirled around away from Éowyn in the direction which they come from, and a small child screamed in unison with her, as a warg and its rider charged straight towards the crowd of women and children. As more people turned in horror, cries began. Most tried to run away, but the rider came faster and faster. Ello knew what would happen. She had seen it in movies. One armed enemy could cause so much havoc in innocent or unarmed people. So she knew what she had to do.
Terrified as she was, she took a deep breath and ran. Straight towards the orc and its steed.
Legolas hauled the last warg off the pile covering Gimli. "Aragorn!" He called. "Aragorn?"
"Aragorn?" Gimli huffed.
They searched, among the living and the dead, but he was nowhere in sight.
"Aragorn!" Legolas cried in despair, only to hear an orcs dying laugh. He turned to see a bloodied orc cackling. Gimli stood over him.
"Tell me where he is and I shall ease your passing! " Gimli cried, raising his axe above his head.
"He's… dead!" The orc coughed up blood as he tried to laugh.
"You lie!" said Legolas.
"He took a little tumble off the cliff!" Legolas and Gimli spun around, and the orcs final breath passed.
As he turned back to the dead orc, tears glistening in the edges of his eyes, Legolas saw a fine silver chain hanging from the orcs hand. He prised open the orcs hand and picked up the chain. A single tear ran down his face when he saw what it was.
The one thing Aragorn would rather die than lose.
The amulet Arwen gave to him.
Screaming fiercely, Ello leapt onto to orcs head and it bellowed in agony as her fingernails dug into her skull. Using her instincts she bit intensely into the orcs neck, but he wrenched his sword around and sliced his sword deeply through Ello's back. She tumbled of the orc and grasped the warg's tail the orc jeered down at her, but then the strangest thing happened. The orc gagged, and then fell off his warg. He was dead.
Wincing from the wound across her back, Ello heaved herself up along the warg's back. Even more surprisingly the warg shook her off and pounded away, whimpering in what seemed to be fear.
Ello stumbled blindly toward the crowd of gasping onlookers. But a few meters away from a wordless Éowyn the throbbing gash on her back took over and it all went black.
The skies grew dark over the council of the Ents.
"Oh, come on! They must have decided something by now!" cried Merry
"Decided?" Groaned Treebeard, turning around to face the young hobbits. "No! We have only just finished saying- good morning!"
"But it's night time!" Merry exclaimed incredulously.
"It takes a very long time to say things in old Entish, and we say nothing unless it is worth taking a long time to say."
Merry sighed and looked at Pippin darkly. Pippin just shrugged; he was just a young hobbit. How why should he interfere (as he supposedly did too much of) in matters that may affect the fate of the whole world?
After all, he was just an immature young hobbit.
The King led the remaining men of Edoras through the gates of Helms Deep. Éowyn ran forward and her eyes flickered between the weary faces of the men.
"So few?" She said, as soft as a sigh, "So few of you have returned!"
"Our people are safe. We paid for it with many lives." Stated her Uncle as he continued up the stairs. Gimli dismounted and advanced to the Lady.
"My Lady." He bowed his head.
"Lord Aragorn?" She asked. "Where is he?"
"He fell." Gimli's voice cracked, and he turned away.
Éowyn stared at her Uncle in horror and he turned his head away. She felt like she was falling, falling, falling, and that she would never rise again-
"My Lady?" Legolas asked softly, waking her from her despair. "I have to ask, where is she, where is Ello? We lost Aragorn, and she, she needs to know."
Éowyn nodded tearfully. "She is through here." She sighed, leading him up a staircase. "There was trouble, a warg rider, I believe. It charged at us, and she, she charged back, alone and weapon less. It was the bravest thing I have seen in my life. She survived, but not unscathed. The orc slashed her across her back with his blade, and what I believe would only be a scratch to one any bigger than her, she is small."
"I understand." Sighed Legolas.
He strode into the room where Ello sat in a bed. She looked up worriedly at his coming.
"Legolas!" she cried "Aragorn, did he, did he fall?" her eyes filled with tears up as Legolas nodded silently.
"I was hoping you could tell me otherwise. Are you alright?" he asked
"Why is everyone always so worried about me? I am fine." She gulped, brushing angrily at her tears.
He sat down on the edge of the bed a tear rolled down his cheek. "Sometimes, Ello, it is alright to cry."