Sorry the tenses in the beginning of this chapter are a little off. I couldn't get it quite the way I wanted it. Anyway, this is a shorter chapter, and not much happens, but they will start to pick up again after this. Also, The song in this is not mine, I found it online a while ago and lost the link. I believe it is a song from the Phantom of the Opera that someone took the time to translate. Enjoy!
The battle raged ferociously. Men and Orc fell all around. And there, trapped beneath the foot of an enormous troll, was the king of men. Aragorn fought against the creature, but it was futile. He could not move. But as the troll lifted its enormous sword, a great boom echoed across the land. Warriors on either side turn and look as the dark, looming form of Barad-dur begins to crumble, the great eye shifting wildly, and then explodes in a seismic wave. The ground beneath the combatants crumbles, as the Black Gate falls into the dark chasm materializing from deep within the heart of Mordor. Enemy Orcs fell by the hundreds into the pit, many more fleeing the scene in all directions. Two little hobbits threw their arms upward, their joy unmeasured. But they quickly fell quiet as Mount Doom erupted, hot magma bursting skyward. They fell to the ground, tears falling from their eyes. They had won, but at what price?
"Do not worry young hobbits," Tinwe said softly. She rode with Pippin sitting in front of her. Merry rode with Eomer just in front of them. "Gandalf will find your friends."
Pippin and Merry remained silent, grief too consuming for them to speak. Tinwe understood their pain, and began singing softly.
Nef fuinath min elei,
gen cenin, gen mathon,
an nad hen iston ce brona.
Thar-chaered palan ar
i menath im ven,
tellich a thaith ce brona.
Tinwe sang softly, her voice carrying across the plains like a warm summer breeze. As she reached the chorus, another voice joined her. Legolas rode just behind her, his voice harmonizing with hers.
Ardhath, nan had ias dorthach,
gerin estel i 'ûr nîn brona,
ned lû i annon edrach,
ar dorthathach mi 'uren
ar gûr nîn abronatha.
Meleth ven pôl hiri,
ar brona a chuil bân,
allú gwanna na erthennin.
Meleth ir melannen
gen, millú thenin
renin mi guil nîn bronatham.
Ardhath, nan had ias dorthach,
gerin estel i 'ûr nîn brona,
ne lú i annon edrach,
ar dorthathach min guren
ar gûr nîn abronatha.
Ce si, ú-'oston nad,
ar iston guren bronatha.
Darthatham uireb godref,
ce beriannen mi 'uren,
ar gûr nîn abronatha.
As the elves sang, the men marching beside them listened silently. They knew not what their song meant, for few among them had any knowledge of the elvish language. But the sound of the elvish language in such a way put to ease their troubled minds, and gave them joy where they had none. The hobbits listened intently, letting the soft, gentle words flow through their minds.
As they reached Minas Tirith, Tinwe and Legolas ended their song, and the men began to disperse, to bring friends to the infirmary, or to go get cleaned up themselves. As Tinwe helped Pippin from the saddle, he spoke to her softly.
"What was that song you were singing?"
"It was a song of hope," Tinwe said softly, smiling down at the hobbit as she placed him on the ground. "Hope, faith, and love. It is more important than ever to have these things. Soon, we must begin to rebuild what was lost. With luck, things will turn out for the better."
Pippin and Merry watched as she and Legolas walked off towards the stables.
"Gandalf will find Frodo," Merry said fiercely. "You'll see."
"Mithrandir! What is it you called me for?"
"You have skills healing correct?"
"My skills are fairly decent, yes," Tinwe said. "But I pale in comparison with Lord Elrond. What is it you ask of me?"
"There is a hobbit near death in there," Gandalf said, nodding towards the door to his left.
"Will you tend to him? His wounds are beyond the knowledge of Gondor's healers."
"I shall do what I can," Tinwe said, bowing to the wizard. She entered the chamber, and found a battered looking halfling lying piteously on the bed. She hurried over to him, and bent over his frame, examining his numerous and serious wounds. She turned to the aid behind her, and began instructing her on how to proceed.
Tinwe spent the next five days tending to the hobbit. She wasted little time eating, and even less sleeping. She was often joined in the chamber by a fourth hobbit, who she discovered was called Samwise Gamgee. He had journeyed with the Ringbearer from the very beginning, and was fiercely loyal to Frodo, whom was the halfling she tended. He ate no more than Tinwe, and barely slept any longer. Tinwe found she had to explain all her treatments to Sam, as he worried constantly about the welfare of his bed-ridden friend. They would talk for hours about his condition. Soon, the two became very good friends.
When Sam was not present, Tinwe was often joined by Legolas. He would bring her meals and sit with her, just watching as she tended to the hobbit. They rarely spoke, but instead sat in a comfortable silence, enjoying each others presence.
On the afternoon of the fifth day, Tinwe was sitting beside Frodo's bed. Sam was not present at the time, and Tinwe was at that moment wondering where he'd gone. Just as she thought this, Gandalf entered the chamber.
"You look tired," he said as she looked up at him.
"I have been worse," she assured him with a soft smile. His eyes bore into hers as he looked at her, remaining silent for a long time.
"Go sleep," he said finally. "I will watch Frodo."
"Thank you Mithrandir," she said, standing slowly and walking slowly, yet gracefully, towards the door. She walked carefully through the brightly lit hallway, breathing in the sweet air drifting in through the windows.
She entered her room and shut the door quietly. With a sigh, she washed the sweat and dirt and blood from her body, and put on a thin pale blue nightgown. She crossed the room and lay down on her soft bed, falling instantly into a deep sleep.