Miles away in Gondor, the steward was approaching the brink of a mental meltdown. Before him lay the body of his youngest son, whom he had wished hours before to have been set before the Uruks instead of Boromir. Not that he would admit to that at the present. Instead, he was playing the "woe is me" father figure.
"My line has ended." He spoke emotionlessly, though to those nearby it might have passed as grief.
The young hobbit Pippin approached the lump form of Faramir and touched his brow. His eyes widened as he said aloud, "He's alive!"
Denethor would have none of it, succumbing to his pseudo-grief. He bemoaned, " The House of Stewards has failed!"
Pippin refused to be ignored. "He needs medicine, my lord!"
Once again, the steward ignored the hobbit as he continued to stumble towards the outer walls like a grief-stricken drunkard. "My line has ended!"
"My lord!" Pippin called out again, trying to break through the emotional wall that had been put up to alert the steward of Gondor that his youngest child was still alive.
Any attempts to capture his attention was for naught. Once Denethor reached the walls he was able to see the enormous armies that stand at his gates, something in his mind finally snapped. "Rohan has deserted us," he muttered with wide eyes, scanning the area. Even from his height he could see that parts of the city were in ruin. "Theoden's betrayed me…" He whipped around suddenly and roared to the soldiers, "Abandon your posts! Flee! Flee for your lives!"
The poor soldiers looked around uncertainly, obviously freaked out by their substitute leader's meltdown on top of current events. Luckily Gandalf was taking over the position. He whacked Denethor in the forehead with his staff, then a jab to the stomach, watching the steward crumple to the ground in shock.
"Prepare for battle!" Gandalf ordered.
"The scouts report Minas Tirith is surrounded," Eomer spoke to his uncle in low tones. "The lower level's in flames. Everywhere, legions of the enemy advance."
Theoden responded with, "Time is against us. Make ready!"
Down the line from the two sat Eowyn and Merry. "Take heart, Merry. It will soon be over." She tried to assure the hobbit, although she wasn't so sure about anything anymore herself. This is what she wanted, right? To be able to go off to battle with the men and fight for her country?
Merry did his best to sound brave in response. "My lady, you are fair and brave and have much to live for, and many who love you. I know it is too late to turn aside. I know there is not much point now in hoping. If I were a knight of Rohan, capable of great deeds. But I'm not. I'm a Hobbit. And I know I can't save Middle-Earth. I just want to help my friends. Frodo. Sam. Pippin. More than anything, I wish I could see them again."
Eowyn smiled at his courage. She knew he was terrified of not knowing what was to come. Hell, she was scared, and she was the one that got them into this mess!
Eomer's voice could be heard from a distance now. "Prepare to move out!"
Theoden's followed. "Make haste. We ride through the night."
Horns somewhere in the ranks were blown, and the disguised duo put their helmets back on to conceal their faces.
"To battle," Eowyn said with more determination in her voice. There would be no more time for nervous jitters. Her brother was right the night before; distractions on the battlefield could be fatal. She had to push any doubts from her mind the best she could.
"To battle," Merry repeated.
Eowyn hoped that he could do the same.
The Rohirrim reached the hills outside of the Pelennor Fields at the light of the following day. When Theoden looked down at the sheer force of the enemy's size, he knew right then that the battle would not turn in their favor. A glance from the corner of his eye showed that his warriors were about to realize the same.
"Courage, Merry. Courage for our friends," Eowyn breathed, pulling the hobbit close to her. She wasn't sure about him, but from the good look she got at the number of orcs, all meditation practices she had implemented on the ride over were long gone.
Back at the front of the ranks, Theoden bared his teeth in anger and turned his horse about to meet his captains and organize a strategy. "Éomer, take your éored down the left flank."
"Flank ready."
"Gamling, follow the King's banner down the center. Grimbold, take your company right after you pass the wall. Forth, and fear no darkness!" He rode his horse before the front lines, and shouted out words of encouragement to boost their morale. "Arise, Arise, Riders of Théoden!" His horse had passed by Eowyn, and on instinct she hid her face, not that he could have gotten her out safely if he had noticed.
Theoden continued his speech, "Spears shall be shaken, shields shall be splintered, a sword-day, a red day, ere the sun rises!"
The riders readied their spears, and from the distance across the plains, they could see the orcs do the same.
Eowyn leaned in close to Merry. "Whatever happens, stay with me. I'll look after you." She felt him nod, knowing that words were not plausible at the moment.
Theoden drove his horse down the lines, clanking his sword against the lowered spears as he continued to shout. "Ride now! Ride now! Ride! Ride for ruin, and the world's ending! Death!"
"Death!" The Rohirrim shouted.
Eowyn gulped, anxiety creeping up again with a force of adrenaline.
"Death!" The king shouted again.
"Death!"
"Death!"
The adrenaline was into high gear now. Both Merry and Eowyn screamed "Death!" with the Rohirrim.
"Forth Eorlingas!" Theoden roared as the horns sounded, then the pounding of hooves took off as the soldiers of Rohan charged the orcs at breakneck speed.
From a distance, the sound of an orc captain gave orders for his archers to fire. Arrows whizzed through the air, puncturing both the flesh of man and horse, bringing some riders to fall. Some were not fortunate enough to have been killed by the arrows, instead being subjected to having their body's crushed beneath their horses or the hooves of those still standing.
"Death!" Merry yelled, as more arrows fell around them like a storm cloud and the riders dropping like flies.
"Charge!" Theoden shouted. Death may have been imminent, but it wasn't going to slow them down.
There was no discernible way to tell how much time had passed since Theoden's army of men had entered the battlefield at Pelennor. The men were becoming exhausted, though it was with great endurance that they pressed on, slashing away at the orcs that were not lucky enough to make a retreat back to Mordor.
Eomer was weaving through the mess shouting directions to his men. "Drive them to the river!"
"Make safe the city!" Theoden could be heard shouting.
Then something strange happened. Like a tornado, the eye of the storm had passed over Pelennor Fields. The land was eerily calm and silent as if there hadn't just been a massive killing of orcs and men. And just as the silent eye passes over, the storm is approaching from the other side, ready for the second round. This time, however, it was a large collection of Mumakil braced for battle that shook the ground as they entered the scene, coming straight for the Rohirrim.
Theoden wanted to swear at every creator in recorded lore, but could not find the words to start. "Re-form the line! Re-form the line!" He ordered instead, bringing the riders back into position to charge the Haradrim. "Sound the charge! Take them head-on!" he said with determination.
Gamling blew his horn as Theoden shouted out "Charge!"
In the later years, it would be speculated as to whether the charge against something infinitely larger than oneself would be considered incredibly brave or incredibly foolish. Such matters were of no concern this day. This day, it was a matter of survival, and if that meant taking something like a Mumakil head on, then so be it. The Rohirrim were not cowardice enough to stand back and wait for death.
The standing riders were being tossed by some of the Mumakil tusks, while others were knocked from their horses and crushed beneath the gigantic feet. Archers riding atop the beasts used their vantage point to pick off riders from afar. Eomer steered his horse to stop before one, and with a decent grip on the spear, hurled it into the chest of the driver, killing him instantly. The driver toppled out of the harness, catching the Mumakil in it's ear with the bloodied spear. A horrid noise came from the beast, and moving with the direction of pain, it swung into another sideways, bringing it down with itself.
Meanwhile, Eowyn and Merry have been dodging the steps of the crazed beasts, missing death several times.
Eowyn handed Merry the reins, who held them tightly. "Take the reins! Pull him left! Left!" She grabbed a second sword from a passing orc before they rode between a Mumak's legs, slicing the inner sides as they passed to cause it to fall.
Eomer had his bow out, firing at the Mumak nearest him. "Aim for their heads!" He called out to everyone as the Mumak rose up on its hind legs and began to stagger about.
"Bring it down! Bring it down! Bring it down!" Theoden cried.
Nearby, another fell, nearly taking Merry and Eowyn with it. The horse they were atop fell, and the two were sent flying through the air. Eowyn dove out of the path of the horse, rolling across the ground kicking up more dirt. She looked around for her partner, but could not find him. "Merry!" In her search she saw her uncle fighting a swarm of orcs that had come to surround him. She picked up her battered sword and run to join Theoden, bringing them down one by one. Theoden took a brief notice of the soldier that had come to his assistance, but could not recall his name in the heat of the battle.
Where the now dead Mumak lay, Merry coughed and slowly rose to a sitting position. He couldn't remember being tossed so far from Eowyn or the horse, but he knew he had to find her. Suddenly, a spear from a Haradrim soldier crossed his line of vision, aiming for his vitals. Merry ducked away from the spear, bringing his small sword up across the soldier's chest, cutting deeply. Through the cloud of dust and blood that fogged the area, he could make out the shape of a deformed orc limping towards a soldier of smaller stature that he assumed was Eowyn. Before he could call out to alert her, she had turned and dodged the orc's attack. What she did next was a low blow by fighting standards, but nothing was fair in war. She swung the sword in her hands into the bad leg of the orc, leaving him howling in pain.
"Not hungry, Ithilwen?" Morwen asked her daughter as she sat down at the dining room table with a glass of water.
"Not really," she replied dully. Morwen could see she wasn't being truthful. She was about to head out to meet with some potential clients, but set her purse down on the table. It could wait a few minutes; she would still be early.
"This is a first," the older woman commented. "In all of my years of raising you, never have I seen you turn down the offer of food. What has upset you so?"
Fiona had come to stand by Morwen, looking at her friend strangely. "She's not eating?"
"No, I'm not," Ithilwen stated hotly. "I was thinking about going on a diet." A gasp from Fiona made her ask, "What?"
"You don't diet."
"Well now I'm considering it."
"But why?" Fiona asked. "Is this because of that asshole?"
Ithilwen groaned. "No, it isn't. I've just been thinking that I can stand to lose some weight is all."
Morwen wasn't convinced. "You look fine to me," she said. "What is the real reason? Is it this society?" Ithilwen didn't respond, instead choosing to look away ashamed. It made sense now to the other two women. "Do not let the images of others make you feel down about yourself, my daughter. You are a beautiful elleth. Look at me," she said with a gesture, "You come by your shape honestly! I am not discouraged by my looks, and you should not be either."
"Exactly!" Fiona said. "You get your chest and hips naturally! Do you have any idea how many of those women had to get implants to get that figure? Besides," she added with a smirk, "From what I've been told, lots of guys would prefer a girl that has an appetite over one that doesn't eat at all. They'd rather be able to hug you without worrying they'd break you!" She caught Morwen's eye and winked, "Why don't you ask Legolas his thoughts the next time you talk to him?"
"A good idea," Morwen nodded, not paying attention to Ithilwen, who rolled her eyes. "I have an idea as well. This one will improve your mood; why don't you let Fiona take some pictures? You could make a day of it before she leaves for the weekend."
Fiona clapped her hands, catching onto the idea. "I love it! Ithilwen, please?" she begged. "Let me fix you up and put you through a photoshoot!"
Ithilwen looked unsure. "I don't know," she stalled. "Don't you need to get your equipment ready for the flight?"
Her friend would not be deterred. "Only the portable stuff. What I'm keeping here is already set up and ready to go. I'm only taking a few of the smaller digital cameras and stands because I'm paranoid about how they handle bags. So please, please, please?" Ithilwen finally nodded in defeat. "Thank you!" she squealed, "I've already got some ideas that you're gonna love!"
Morwen came around the table to hug Ithilwen, and then Fiona before she collected her purse and headed for the door. "Good girl, you've made Fiona very happy," she laughed. "I want to see these pictures when they're done!"
"Getting sea-sick there, laddie?" Gimli chuckled at the uneasy look on the elf's face. Legolas had become too quiet as they set sail, and he was hoping the jibe would heighten his spirits.
"No, Gimli. I…just lost in thoughts," he replied. He turned his gaze away from the water to see the twins huddled by Aragorn in discussion.
Haldir had crossed to their side to stand on the dwarf's other side. With a curt nod to the dwarf, he looked at Legolas. "Lady Galadriel's warning?" he asked.
The younger elf nodded in what looked like shame. Gimli was confused, but since it wasn't looking like his friend was going to clarify, he turned to Haldir. "What does that mean?"
The marchwarden waited to see if Legolas would explain. When it was apparent that he chose not to, he said, "The Lady had warned him that the cry of the gulls would waken the sea-longing within him if he were to continue the quest. The Prince has heard the gulls, Master Dwarf. The urge to sail to the Undying Lands is now within his mind."
Gimli looked over to his friend. "Does this mean that you will set sail after the War?"
Legolas shook his head violently. "No!" he blurted out. "I will not. I have no plans to do such a thing anytime soon. I have made too many promises to break, Gimli. There is still much that must be done before I consider that path." He smiled down at his companion. "Though I will be all the more relieved when we reach the shoreline." The furthest that he could get away from this ship, the better, he reasoned.
A/N: Not so much an Ithilwen or Legolas chapter – sorry bout that, but I didn't want to skip over the beginning of the Battle at Pelennor just to have Aragorn and them show up in the middle of it. Plus it gives me the chance to use some of the analytical stuff I learned in my expository writing class back in my first semester of college. I've got some projects coming up in my current courses, so you guys might get spoiled this week as I scramble to catch up to where I want to be before I have to really focus on the work. Enjoy!