I'm back! Yay!
Finally, this chapter is finished! It took me forever to make myself pleased with how this came out. Honestly, I originally had a completely different plan for the battle, but I think I like this better.
Important note: I just wanted to remind you all that this story takes place mainly from Kayden, Robin, and Peyton's points of view. That means that many important events may occur but are not written in this story because my characters aren't there to see it happen (like with Denethor). This is their story, and sometimes, the canon characters aren't a part of it.
Anyways, I don't own anything except Peyton, Kayden, and Robin.
Chapter 32: The Battle of Pelennor Fields
The Rohirrim crested the great hill bordering Pelennor Fields, several hundred horsemen lined in ranks overlooking the army of Mordor. The mass of orcs seemed like thousands of black ants, scuttling around and preparing for the impending battle. The rising sun shone down on the fields, dimmed by the foul haze coming from the depths of Mordor.
Peyton, Merry, and Ėowyn rode near the back of the lines, nervously gazing at the ranks of orcs assembling before them. "Here goes nothing," Peyton whispered, biting her lip and tightening her grip on Greystorm's reins. Ėowyn and Merry could only nod in agreement, listening as Théoden began calling out orders.
"Ėomer, take your éored down the left flank!" the king commanded. "Gamling, follow the king's banner down the center! Grimbold, take your company to the right after you pass the wall! Forth and fear no darkness!" Thoeden then began riding along the front ranks, raising his glittering sword high in the morning light. "Arise! Arise, riders of Theoden! Spears shall be shaken, shields shall be splintered! 'Tis a sword day, a red day ere the sun rises!" The king came to a halt in the center of the men, now gazing out across the fields. "Ride now! Ride! Ride for ruin and the world's ending! Death!"
"Death!" the soliders echoed, unsheathing their swords and readying their shields.
A fierce smile spread across Theoden's face. "Death!"
"Death!"
"DEATH!"
"DEATH!" The soldiers nearly screamed their final cry. Peyton and Ėowyn joined in the chorus of soldiers, thrusting their fists into the air.
"FORTH ĖORLINGAS!" Theoden bellowed, swinging his sword forward and motioning for the charge to begin. Dozens of horns sounded from the ranks of horsemen, and all as one, the Rohirrim began advancing. The army moved slowly at first, but soon they were racing towards the orcs in a full gallop. Black arrows rained down on them from above, but only a few in the vast number of soldiers were shot down, and the charge of the Rohirrim crashed into the ranks of the orcs, tearing through the mass of foul creatures.
Peyton whipped out her bow, gripping onto Greystorm with her knees as she notched an arrow. She swiftly began firing at nearby orcs, taking several down as Ėowyn and Merry cantered beside her, shieldmaiden and hobbit slicing at the orcs with their blades. The haze of battle filled Peyton's vision, causing her to become quickly lost in the fight for her life. Ėomer's voice quickly snapped her back to attention. "Drive them to the river!" he cried.
Peyton looked up, and to her surprise, the orcs were beginning to flee the fields, racing to save their sorry hides. With a whoop of glee, Peyton whirled Greystorm around and began pursuing the orcs. However, her excitement and joy were short-lived as a terrifying sight met her eyes, and a thunderous din began to shake the earth.
A line of massive elephant-like creatures were advancing onto the field, each the size of a several-story building. A humongous pair of tusks reached down to the earth from their faces, a long, muscular trunk painted with swirling red designs sweeping between them. Each had a large wooden structure, much like a tower, secured to their backs, arrows flying from their levels and down upon the Rohirrim.
"What the heck are those things?" Peyton whispered to Ėowyn, her green eyes wide as dinner plates and fixated on the creatures.
"Mûmakil," Ėowyn replied, tightening her grip on the reins of her horse. "I have only heard of them in legend, but it appears that they and their riders, the Haradrim, have allied themselves with the orcs." It was then that Peyton noticed that the orcs weren't fleeing from the battle; instead, the loathsome creatures were running to safety behind the ranks of mûmakil.
Peyton groaned, shaking her head. "Oh, that's just peachy."
"Reform the lines! Reform the lines!" Théoden cried, his voice carrying over the fields. Despite their fear of the massive mûmakil, the Rohirrim dutifully followed their king, forming a line of horsemen opposing the Haradrim. "Sound the charge!" Théoden commanded, riding in the center of the line. "Take them head-on!"
The horns of Rohan trumpeted loud and clear across the fields. "CHAAARGE!" Théoden screamed, and with a flurry of neighs and shouts, the Rohirrim galloped forward towards the ranks of Haradrim and orcs. The mûmakil, unfazed by the charge, swung their long ivory tusks into the ground, plowing through horsemen and sending dirt flying.
A look of determination crossed Peyton's face as she spurred on Greystorm. She had lost track of Merry and Ėowyn during the fray of the charge, but all she could do was hope they were safe. As she approached a mûmak, Peyton readied her bow, the golden fletching brushing against her cheek as she aimed. Quickly, she released the arrow, the shot sailing through the air and piercing the mûmak's eye. The great beast reared in pain, trumpeting and roaring with rage. Greystorm dashed underneath the beast, dodging the Haradrim darts that flew his way. As she passed a spear embedded in the ground, Peyton leaned over and yanked it out of the earth, hoisting it over her shoulder. Hoping that it would find its target, Peyton hurled the spear with all her might at the inside of the mûmak's legs. The spear found its mark, and with an agonized screech, the beast tumbled onto the ground.
"Yeah!" Peyton cheered, pleased with her success. Swiftly, she continued weaving between the mûmakil, felling many orcs and Haradrim that came near her. Suddenly, the mûmak she was under reared onto its hind legs with a monstrous roar, its stance beginning to wobble and tip. Peyton hurriedly whirled Greystrorm around, galloping as fast as possible away from the beast as it toppled to the ground. The resulting thump of the mûmak's body caused Greystorm to bolt with shock, making Peyton tumble out of the saddle and onto the dusty ground.
"Oh, crackerjack," Peyton cursed quietly, pushing herself off the ground and dusting her armor off. She hardly even noticed that her helmet had been knocked off from the fall, and frankly, she didn't care.
A sudden growl from behind her snapped Peyton back to attention. Whirling around, she saw that one of the foul orcs, skin grimy and gnarled, had attempted to sneak up on her. Acting on instinct, she dodged the orc's strike, swiftly drawing her dagger and stabbing it into the orc's stomach. More orcs and Haradrim swarmed around her, and with a piercing battlecry, Peyton leapt back into the fray, slicing at foes with her dagger. Close combat certainly wasn't her forte, but she would have to do her best. After all, her friends were counting on her.
~o*o*o*o~
Meanwhile, in the city of Minas Tirith, things were not faring well.
The first level was consumed with flames and swarming with orcs, the booming sounds of a troll's hammer thundering against the gate to the second level. Gandalf, Robin, and Pippin were huddled against a wall near the door, watching as the soldiers stood at the ready, waiting for the inevitable onslaught. The trio had soon reunited after the arrival of Rohan, and after each quickly recounted their adventures to the others, the three gathered together, preparing themselves for what would be for most the last battle.
Pippin sighed. "I didn't think it would end this way."
"End?" Gandalf asked softly. "No, the journey doesn't end here. Death is just another path, one that we must all take one day." A small smile settled onto the Wizard's lips as both Pippin and Robin listened intently. "The grey rain curtain of this world rolls back, and all is turned to silver glass. And then you see it."
"See what, Gandalf?" Robin questioned, curious.
He took a deep breath, gazing benevolently down at the two hobbits. "White shores, and beyond, a far green country beneath a swift sunrise."
Pippin and Robin glanced at each other, enraptured looks mirrored on their faces. "Well, that doesn't sound so bad," Robin grinned.
"No…not at all," Pippin agreed. Their pleased thoughts were soon interrupted, however, by a particularly loud bang on the wooden gate. Both Pippin and Robin drew their swords, mustering all the courage they could. Gandalf nodded in approval at the two hobbits before readying his staff and sword. Three hard gazes fell on the wooden gateway as three brave hearts waited for the inevitable.
~o*o*o*o~
Peyton didn't know how long they had been fighting. Everywhere she looked, more and more orcs seemed to appear. Mûmakil trampled the brown grasses beneath their gigantic feet, their Haradrim riders showering arrows down upon the field. Despite her best efforts, Peyton had already received a few cuts and bruises, an especially big gash on her upper left arm. She was beginning to grow weary of the battle, but she knew that she couldn't stop, wouldn't stop, until it was over.
Peyton raced swiftly across the fields, slicing through orcs and Haradrim soldiers. A small, relieved smile broke out on her face as she witnessed a familiar figure fighting off a battalion of orcs. Ėomer's face was shining with sweat, his helmet missing. Fatigue was beginning to show on his face, and Peyton figured she didn't look any better than he. She was about to continue on her way when she noticed an orc that he had missed coming up behind him, raising his sword to strike…
"ĖOMER!"
Quickly notching an arrow on her bow, Peyton fired, her shot landing straight in the orc's skull, causing the foul creature to keel over, dead. Ėomer stared in surprise at the fallen orc before turning in the direction of the shout. "Peyton!" he cried, rushing over to her. "What are you doing here?"
"What does it look like I'm doing?" Peyton shouted. The duo stood back to back, weapons at the ready, as a circle of orcs began to surround them. "I'm helping you guys fight!"
"I told you to stay back at the camp!" Ėomer reprimanded as he swung his sword into an orc. "It's too dangerous here!"
"You saw me fight at Helm's Deep!" Peyton retorted, dodging an orc's wide swing before stabbing it in the back. "You know I'm perfectly capable of fighting in battle! Danger was never an issue for me!" She paused in her rant to nimbly leap over an orc's sword as it hurtled towards her legs. "So why wouldn't you let me fight?"
Ėomer didn't answer for a few moments, brow furrowed in concentration as he continued to block and strike at the orcs beside Peyton. Eventually he did speak, his voice ringing out amidst the sounds of war. "Because I love you!"
Peyton nearly fell over in shock, her green eyes wide as dinner plates for the second time that day. "Wait…what?"
Swiftly, Ėomer seized her hand, pulling her close to his chest. "Because I love you," he repeated, his tone softer than before. He gazed straight into Peyton's eyes before smoothly bringing his lips to meet hers. Peyton just stood there in shock for a moment, dagger hanging limply at her side. But then, she closed her eyes and returned the kiss, and for a moment, both forgot that they were in the middle of a battle.
After a few moments, the two broke apart, surprised and pleased smiles on their faces. "Go Peyton," Ėomer stated gesturing to the battlefield. "Fighting is a part of who you are, and I was wrong to hold you back. Just…be careful."
Peyton nodded her head, the wild glint in her eyes that had become all too common over the past few months shining brightly. "You got it, Ėomer." And with that, she sped across the fields, hacking and stabbing at foes. A fierce smile etched itself across her face, and she now knew that there was one more person she was fighting for.
The dagger Aragorn had given her such a long time ago back at Weathertop flashed in her hands as she felled orcs and Haradrim, unknowingly making her way closer to the river. Her energy was beginning to run out, though, and she didn't know how much longer…
"PEYTON!"
An extremely familiar voice called her name behind her, and the thump of a sword striking an orc head was heard. Peyton whirled around to see Kayden standing behind her, wrenching one of her swords from an orc's corpse, the foul creature's arms above its head, poised to strike.
Peyton knew she probably should have thanked Kayden for saving her life, or at least be grateful that her friend was alive, but instead, she was only furious at the elleth, her already red cheeks becoming redder. "Where the heck have you been?" she shouted.
Kayden smirked, glancing over her shoulder. "Getting some help."
As if on cue, numerous ghostly green apparitions swept by them, howling unearthly battlecries as they charged down a mûmak with ease. Peyton blinked, completely amazed at what she was seeing. "Well…um…thanks."
"You should thank Aragorn," Kayden replied, driving both of her short swords into an oncoming foe. "He was the one who was able to bring them here." She twirled Veryan and Brethil in her hands and leapt into a fighting stance, her face clouding over with ferocity and seriousness. "Let's drive these orcs out of here."
Peyton gave her a swift nod, notching a mallorn arrow on her string. "Just don't die on me, okay?"
Kayden smiled as she deftly dodged an orc's strike before rapidly delivering two blows to the stomach. "Wouldn't dream of it."
So, hope you all enjoyed the chapter!
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