Hello all! I'm baaaaaaaaaaaaaaack! I am re-watching the Lord of the Rings and I think I've beaten my writer's block! YAY! Hopefully I won't get it again before finishing this story! Happy reading!
Alarain was lying on her stomach, watching the army get ready to leave when Merry woke. They said little to each other as they packed up their gear and mounted Fayna. The woman could feel the tension between them after their previous night's chat. The same companionship that had been present for some time was still there however, and she could tell he was just upset.
The night had been tough for Alarain. She had spent most of it awake, and when she had closed her eyes, she would always wake not much later with terrible nightmares that would haunt her thoughts. Exhausted, she had ended up watching the small figures on the horizon until dawn.
Merry could see the weariness in her eyes, but didn't comment for fear of her grumpy wrath.
As they set off once again, Alarain felt her stomach clench. They would reach the Black Gates that day. Merry didn't speak for a long while and she could tell he felt the same.
As the day wore on, Fayna trudged along even slower, tripping now and again from exhaustion. Finally, Alarain dismounted to relieve the poor mare of some weight. She led her on foot, but soon had to stop for a rest, having not walked such long distances in a while.
Alarain sat down heavily, closing her eyes for a moment as Merry slid out of the saddle. He took a few steps and peered into the distance.
"Alarain," he said, his voice suddenly worried. She looked up and saw him pointing.
"What is it?"
The hobbit didn't answer, so she got to her feet and squinted as her eyes followed his finger. She could just make out the army on the horizon. They seemed to have stopped. Six riders cantered forwards and out of their view.
"I think we've arrived," Merry spoke quietly.
Alarain sprang into action at his words. "Come. We must catch up before the fight begins."
They were soon mounted again and Alarain kicked Fayna into a gallop. She kept close to a steep hill and out of sight of the army until they came to the end. Tugging on the reins, Alarain brought the mare to a halt and quickly dismounted again as Merry scrambled after her. Dropping to her knees, she crawled ahead and crouched behind a boulder. Merry peeked over the top and she looked around the side.
They were close enough now to make out the riders that now stood in front of the Black Gates. The farthest from them was Legolas with Gimli sitting behind him. Then came Gandalf, and beside him was Aragorn. Boromir came next, along with a Gondorian soldier who was holding a flag that whipped around in the wind. The closest rider to them was Eomer.
"Look! It's Pippin!" Merry exclaimed. Alarain glanced over at him with confusion. "There! He's sitting in front of Gandalf!" She took a closer look and sure enough, there was a small figure who also sat astride Shadowfax.
Her heart suddenly filled with fear at a deep and thunderous sound. The Gates had begun to open and a strange rider came out to meet their friends. His helmet was large and covered all but his mouth, which, even from so far away, she could tell was disgusting.
"That's not… Sauron, is it?" Merry asked with a gulp.
She shook her head. "I do not believe so. It must be there to speak for him though."
The rider halted his dark, armour clad horse in front of Brego and spoke. Alarain couldn't hear what it said, but still, a shiver ran down her spine. Gandalf answered the creature and whatever he said seemed to bother the rider. Its mouth turned up though, into a mocking smile. One of its hands reached into its dirty, black cloaks and yanked something out, holding it up for everyone to see.
"No," Merry whispered, his eyes growing wide. Alarain heart stopped when she realized what it had clutched in its filthy fingers. It was Frodo's coat of mithril. It shone in the sun as she watched and her eyes began to water. "No!" Merry yelled it this time, almost running out from their hiding place. Alarain caught his leg and dragged him back, wrapping her arms around him so he wouldn't try again.
They looked back out, Merry whimpering quietly, to see that the ugly creature had thrown the mithril to Gandalf who passed it to Pippin. The strange rider spoke again, but there was silence from their friends as the news sunk in.
Merry went quiet as Aragorn nudged Brego forward, and Alarain held her breath. He was dressed in more than just ranger clothes and now wore a very kingly looking set of armour.
The rider from Mordor spoke to him as he pulled Brego alongside its own horse. He didn't seem to be listening however, as his hand flew up with Anduril in its grasp and the head of the creature fell to the ground, no longer attached to its body. Aragorn's sword caught the sun and she and Merry had to shield their eyes from the glare as the six riders galloped back to the waiting army.
Looking back to the Black Gates, Alarain groaned. As they opened farther, she could see the vast armies of Mordor as they began flooding out onto the plains and surrounding the others. Pulling Merry farther out of sight, they held their breath as the orcs marched past. She peeked out again and just caught Aragorn's shape as he spoke to his army before the orcs blocked her view and she lost sight of him.
Merry exchanged a glance with her as they lay there, waiting for the battle to begin. His eyes were terrified, but as his gaze moved to Mordor, they hardened with hate. Securing his helmet in place, he rested a hand on the hilt of his sword and readied himself for the fight.
Mordor's army had stopped, having fully circled Aragorn and the others, and Alarain risked standing up to see what was happening. A yell suddenly sounded from the middle, followed by a thunderous roar of voices, and her breath caught in her throat when she saw that the battle had started. Aragorn was leading the charge, sprinting full speed into the orcs, his sword dancing as it met flesh.
"Alarain," Merry said from her side. She glanced down to him and saw sadness in his big, round eyes. "Good luck," he whispered, taking her hand and giving it a squeeze. Then, unsheathing his sword, he raced away.
She stood still for a moment, working up the courage to go after him before grasping her hilt, bringing out the blade in a swift motion, and following at a run. Merry was just disappearing into the fight when she spotted him and headed for the same spot, hoping to keep him as safe as she could.
As Alarain neared the orcs, she raised her sword and brought the blade down, slicing it through a shoulder. The orc fell down dead and she pushed past another before ducking the swing from a third. Fighting her way farther in, she began seeing more and more Gondorian and Rohirrim soldiers as she got closer to the middle.
Catching a glimpse of Merry, Alarain dashed forwards and stabbed a nearby orc. It yelled angrily and swung around madly. The tip of its sword caught her arm and she winced. Still, she didn't falter, and attacked until it was dead.
Turning, the woman saw a Rohirrim soldier in trouble and rushed to his aid. The man seemed shocked for a moment at the sight of a woman, but the orcs he was fighting soon distracted him. She stood beside him and together, they drove the beasts away, slaying a few as they went. The soldier seemed to regain his will to fight and Alarain left him to finish off his enemy.
A shriek filled the air and many heads turned to the sky. Her stomach gave a jolt when she saw the flying beasts. With Nazgul astride them, the Fell Beasts came through the smoky sky and flew straight for the army, and straight for her. She froze as one descended on her and was astounded when another shape met the creature mid-air.
"The Eagles are coming!" a small voice yelled nearby. Looking up to the skies away from Mordor, Alarain smiled in awe. Giant, brown eagles came dancing over the battle to meet the Nazgul, their wings gliding and singing across the wind.
A shout from somewhere to her right caught her attention and she almost missed a sword aimed at her throat. Almost. Catching it with her own blade only inches from her face, she backed up and pushed off from an orc behind her, catching her foe off guard. It was soon lying dead, but Alarain was tiring and they didn't seem to be winning.
The shout came again and she spun around, trying to find where it was coming from. There! The flash of long blond hair caught her eye and she spotted Legolas through a gap in the bodies. Fighting off another orc, she glanced over to see the Elf struggling to make his way through the mass of orcs and Men.
Pain flashed through her and she looked down to see blood dripping from her hand. The hilt of an orc sword came down on her head and she fell to her knees. Glancing up, her eyes widened with fear. There was a sharp, rusty blade headed straight for her face.
Alarain was about to say goodbye to the world when the orc's arm was chopped clean off. Looking up into the face, she was startled to see Eomer staring down at her. They're eyes remained locked for a moment before he shook himself out of his confusion and yanked her to her feet.
"What are you…?" He was cut off as they became surrounded, and began fighting like a mad man. Holding her sword firmly with both her injured, and uninjured hand, Alarain did as best she could to help. "How did you get here?" Eomer yelled.
Grunting as she killed another orc, Alarain shouted back, "It doesn't matter!" They shared a glare before quickly turning their attention back to the enemy.
As orc after orc fell in their wake, Alarain suddenly stopped, having spotted what Legolas was trying to get to. Eomer hardly gave her a glance as he kept on fighting. Springing back into action, Alarain pushed past anyone in her way. Fighting twice as hard, she came upon her prey. She plunged her sword as hard as she could into the back of a huge troll who, at the moment, was crushing Aragorn beneath its massive foot.
It roared with rage and, swinging its arm, sent her flying. She landed hard on her back and felt her leg twist with agony as the breath was forced out of her. Glancing up, she saw Aragorn stabbing madly at the beast's foot. It stepped off him and Alarain watched in horror as it brought up its sword to finish him off.
All of a sudden, the troll turned, looking back into Mordor. The orcs nearby also turned, their eyes widening with horror. Aragorn scrambled to his feet and got ready to fight the troll again. However, the troll no longer wanted anything to do with him. It took off.
An orc standing beside her ran as well, while another began stabbing itself in the chest. It fell to the ground and she scooted away as its arm landed beside her.
Struggling to her feet, she rested most of her weight on her good leg as her gaze was drawn into Mordor. It was the first time she had seen the Eye, but it didn't terrify her as she thought it would, probably because it was panicking. The flaming Eye of Sauron was darting around as the tower beneath it began to topple in on itself.
Frodo and Sam have done it, she thought, a smile spreading across her face as she watched the tower of Barad-dur fall. She could almost hear Sauron's scream as he fell with it and could hardly tear her eyes from the scene. However, she had to leave before she was noticed. If Aragorn saw her, she'd never get away.
Turning around, she limped through the soldiers. No one gave her a second glance. In fact, no one even gave her a first glance. All eyes were on the Dark Tower as it crashed to the ground. Orcs were still fleeing, and some were killing themselves, but no one noticed.
Nearly halfway to the back of the army, Alarain's body tensed. A thunderous explosion met her ears and she brought up her hands to cover them. A great crack came next and the ground shook. Looking behind her, Alarain could hardly believe her eyes when she saw the Black Gates come crashing down into a massive creator that stretched around Aragorn's army, plunging thousands of orcs to their deaths.
Another explosion came from Mordor and her face fell. Mount Doom had erupted, and Frodo and Sam were inside. "No," she whimpered. Grief crept over her and she began to cry. Once again, she fell to her knees and stared as lave surged from the volcano.
Scrambling up, Alarain stumbled away with tears clouding her vision. In shock, she didn't notice the creature in front of her until she bumped into it. Looking up, she was met with Fayna's wide, wild eyes. The horse had come to find her master and Alarain was glad. She grabbed the saddle and, finding the stirrup, clambered on. Fayna shifted uneasily and Alarain urged her away.
Glancing over her shoulder, she took in the scene one more time before her head bowed weakly and she kicked Fayna into a gallop, wincing as her injured leg was bumped. Unknown to her, a small pair of Hobbit eyes had seen her go, and he was not about to keep it a secret.
Fayna took her far, though Alarain wasn't keeping track of which direction she was heading. She only knew that she wanted to get away. Suddenly she wished for the comfort of her old home with the horse breeders. Her life had been peaceful then. She did not have the worries she carried now.
Darkness filled her vision and Alarain slumped in the saddle. Soon, Fayna slowed so her rider would not fall as she slept.
Alarain woke many hours later, and with head pounding, she took in her surroundings. Fayna had stopped to rest for the night, but still, the only scenery was dirt and rocks. It would take days for her to get out of the barren wasteland. Even if she did, she wouldn't have the strength to heal herself.
That's when she remembered the scar, and the magic. It healed me once. Maybe it can do it again.
Blinking herself awake, Alarain closed her eyes and concentrated. Her arm burned and she glanced down. The hand was bubbling. She frowned and tried again. Concentrating even harder, she felt like she was about to get it when the feeling of being struck by lightening flew through her whole body and she fell to the ground with a thump.
Her mare started and stepped away before snorting grumpily. Alarain groaned and lay still. Her body didn't want to move and she didn't want to make it. So she lay there and thought of the day's events until grief caught up with her again and she began to cry silently.
Fayna stepped closer and sniffed at her face. Then she turned away and, standing near her friend, raised her head to watch for danger.