Note: IT'S NOT OVER. IT WAS NEVER OVER.
You can accompany that with a mental image of me buried alive, clawing my way up through the dirt. In other words, I graduated from nursing school and passed the NCLEX-RN!
I'm working on writing longer chapters, so as a huge thank-you to everyone who's sticking with it, here's the longest chapter I've written so far. I hope you enjoy!
Aragorn groaned. The sound around him was muted, as if someone crouched above him with their fingers in his ears. He reached a hand up and found this was not the case. His head gave a painful throb— he thought someone might be yelling his name. Who was in trouble? Was he in trouble? With great difficulty, Aragorn unglued his eyelids to take in the chaos around him.
The memories came rushing back like the water flowing several feet below. His senses sharpened and he pushed himself to his feet, sword in hand, only to lurch to one side a moment later as an arrow came whistling past his head— he heard a gurgling noise behind him and turned. An Uruk-hai collapsed, the arrow lodged in its throat. Aragorn realized at once who had been yelling his name; he looked up and locked eyes with Legolas across the gap in the wall, who still held his bow aloft. The elf gave a swift nod before nocking another arrow and turning away.
Aragorn shook himself mentally. No time to dwell on death narrowly avoided— right now, there was nothing to which could be given thought other than the battle raging below and all around him. He lifted his sword as another Uruk-hai approached, locking blades to meet its furious onslaught. Aragorn ducked as it made a wide swing where his head had been moments before, leaving its defenses wide open. He drove his sword into its chest and yanked it free, already scanning the area for his next enemy.
"Aragorn! Pull back to the keep! Get your men out of there!"
The king's voice echoed down from the wall even as Aragorn slashed through another Uruk-hai. He shouted in elvish, urging the elven soldiers to retreat. Aragorn caught his breath while he twisted around, craning his neck to see through the tangle of bodies surrounding him. He located Haldir after a moment, yelling for retreat as loudly as he could muster. The elf locked eyes with him, nodding briefly, before cutting down another Uruk-hai.
Aragorn looked away, quickly becoming entangled with another one of the enemy as he heard Haldir taking up the call in the distance, signaling to the other elves to make their way to the keep. Another Uruk-hai fell, and another, as Aragorn whirled through their lines— but then he stopped cold as Haldir's voice broke off in a strangled cry. He caught sight of the elf several paces away, clutching his side with a dizzy look on his pale face, which shone out against the dark breastplate of the Uruk-hai approaching swiftly behind him.
Haldir's back arched as he was struck again— a death blow. And yet, Aragorn found himself scrambling toward him, shoving aside men, elves, and Uruk-hai alike, as if getting there sooner could stop the inevitable. He threw himself onto his knees and grabbed Haldir as his head fell, heavy and unmoving, onto his arm. The elf's glassy eyes were dark from the reflection of the night sky, and Aragorn allowed himself one moment of grief as he stared into them. He placed a hand on Haldir's chest before gently lowering him to the ground.
"RAAAAAH!"
Aragorn seized an enemy ladder and leapt over the side of the wall, hurtling toward their ranks below. His blade gleamed as he fought his way toward the steps that led to the rear-gate of the Hornburg, where he saw Legolas kneeling with a single arrow at the ready. He took the steps two at a time, forcing himself to go faster in spite of his exhaustion. All it took was one slip of the foot and the Uruk-hai were almost on him, but Legolas loosed his arrow and caught the nearest one square in the mouth. Aragorn heaved himself up and barreled through the doors, hearing them clang shut behind him.
"I think they're getting closer," Marian said.
The sounds of battle, while once distant, were now growing steadily louder. The shouts of men and the growls of Uruk-hai became quite familiar to Marian's ears, as did the quiet weeping and snuffling of both children and their mothers alike. The two women initially had tried to pass the time practicing with their blades, but soon Marian felt as if her arms were going to fall off and begged a break. Éowyn agreed in a rather begrudging manner, which made Marian wonder if she was more anxious than she let on.
Éowyn paced next to her, brow furrowed. "They must have taken the Deeping Wall. They are past our outer defenses."
Marian, unfamiliar with the layout of the fortress, only heard the tightness in Éowyn's voice and knew the situation must be dire. Despite her growing dread, she refused to believe that any harm could come to any of her new friends. After all, even when they had thought Aragorn was gone, he survived. Surely their luck could last through the battle. She cast around for a bit of hope.
"Well… we're safe here, right? I mean, the entrance to the caves is well-hidden."
Just as she spoke a voice echoed out, sending a jolt through her and causing Éowyn's hand to fly to the hilt of her sword. The villagers stifled their cries of fear.
"Éowyn!"
The shout came from one of the few passages that led into the caves, accompanied by the sound of heavy boots striking the ground. Éowyn closed her eyes briefly, relinquishing her grip on her sword.
"That is Éomer's voice," she said, sounding relieved beyond measure. She raised her own voice, turning to the people of Rohan, who were still clutching each other in apprehension. "Do not be alarmed! It is Lord Éomer, come to bring us news of the battle."
Marian caught sight of Háryth's face in the crowd. She was holding hands with a woman who looked to be her mother, eyes closed as if in silent prayer. Marian wished she could catch her eye and make some silly remark about Éomer coming to rescue them, but as she watched them, the humor shriveled rather quickly in her chest.
The noises from the tunnel grew louder until Éomer came into sight with Gimli close behind. Both were plastered in grime, blood, and sweat, their chests heaving. Éowyn hurried forward as they caught their breath.
"The battle goes ill…"
Éowmer's voice faded as their heads grew closer together, likely not wanting to frighten the townspeople any more than they already were. Marian stepped forward tentatively, unsure if she should be part of the conversation. Gimli saw her and gave a wink, ever equal parts good-humored and gruff even as he leaned on his axe, clearly worn out. This emboldened Marian, and she drew closer. Éomer spared her a small glance as she approached, but otherwise remained locked in grave conversation with his sister. Both siblings were very like each other, Marian thought to herself— single-minded and direct when addressing a problem. And this particular problem appeared to be grim indeed.
"If it comes to it," Éomer was saying sternly, "I want you to lead the people out into the mountains."
Éowyn lifted her chin slightly. "I will look after and defend our people in any way I must, brother. You may rest safe in that knowledge."
He shook his head in warning. "Do not start this with me. Not now. I do not need you ignoring my words and going off happily to get yourself killed, while our people are left to wander on their own!"
"Ignoring your words," she mused. "What, I wonder, must that feel like?"
A faint commotion accompanied by angry growls fell on their ears, far off in the tunnel from which Éomer and Gimli had emerged. Marian knew they had run out of time.
Éomer drew his sword. "Éowyn I beg of you, do as I say," he said with a note of desperation in his voice.
She opened her mouth to reply, but the clamoring of Uruk-hai in the tunnel grew perilously loud and her brother turned away, readying his blade with an iron look in his eye. Gimli gave his axe a few test swings, and they were off just as quickly as they came, their figures disappearing into the darkness.
"Stay together!" Éowyn called to the crowd. "Lady Marian will take the lead, and I will bring up the rear. There is no need to panic if we all just-"
She broke off abruptly as a racket started up once again in the tunnels. Someone cried out in fear before being shushed.
Éowyn drew her sword, speaking tersely. "Out, now! Quickly and quietly. We will follow."
The villagers snapped into action, gathering their families and hurrying toward the exit in the back of the caves. Slowly but surely, their numbers in the caves dwindled as they entered the tunnel, feet stirring up dust and scattering rocks in their haste. As the last of the people left, the Uruk-hai were almost upon them. Éowyn found herself breathing rather quickly, and looked over at Marian, who was gripping her knife so hard her knuckles had turned white.
"Stay out of it as much as you can," she said to her, hoping to take care of the fighting on her own if at all possible. Marian was a quick learner with good instincts, but Éowyn knew it would be foolish at this point to expect her to entirely fend for herself.
With those words, the enemy burst into the caves. They were outfitted with cruel-looking armor, the white hand of Saruman stamped across their helms. There were only three in total, and Éowyn was more than a match for them as she leapt forward, sword flashing through the air. In no time at all, the first beast was dead on the floor, with the second rapidly approaching. Locked in combat, there was nothing she could do to stop the third Uruk-hai from moving past her.
She drove her sword through the second Uruk-hai and spared a quick glance around for Marian. There she was, several paces away- frozen where she stood. The third Uruk-hai advanced, growling and raising its enormous weapon. Marian's dagger hung at her side, clutched by loose fingers; she seemed to be transfixed with horror.
"Get your blade up! Get your blade up!" Éowyn shouted, already running toward her.
Éowyn's words must have reached Marian past all of her fear- she raised her blade at the last second before the Uruk-hai collided with her; the two fell backwards, hitting a stalagmite and toppling to the floor.
"Marian!" Éowyn threw herself to her knees by where the Uruk-hai lay on top of the woman and pushed it off, already fearing the worst.
Marian's face was splattered with blood and her eyes were closed.
"No- no-" Éowyn searched for a wound, hands scrabbling up and down her form, but found nothing. At that moment, however, Marian let out a small groan and cracked open one eye.
"Ahhh," she mumbled, reaching up to feel the back of her skull. "M'head hurts."
"Marian!" Éowyn felt nearly giddy with relief. "I thought you were- I feared-"
Marian made a valiant effort to sit up, wincing all the while. "I think I got knocked out for a second. I hit that rock pretty hard."
Placing a supporting hand at Marian's back, Éowyn tried to swallow her relief and focus. They were not out of danger yet.
Marian looked sideways at Éowyn, whose hand was still on her back. Her other hand rubbed at her brow as crouched on the floor, clearly thinking hard. She seemed to sense Marian's gaze, eyes flickering in her direction.
"They'll keep coming, Éowyn."
She looked away, a grim expression on her face. "I know."
Taking a steadying breath, Marian spoke again. "You have to lead the people into the mountains. It's the only way."
Éowyn gave Marian a sharp look. "Yes, we do. On your feet."
This was the moment. Marian had begun to form a plan, one that was half wild and half something she hoped resembled bravery. They both knew that in all reality, if the battle continued on in the same way, neither the women and children escaping to the mountains nor the men riding out to meet the enemy head on would survive.
"I'll go," Marian said. "I'll go after them."
"Have you lost your mind?" Éowyn asked incredulously, staring.
Marian wrung her hands. "Well- no, I don't think so. But this is something I want to do."
She steeled herself, looking into Éowyn's eyes- perhaps for the last time. "This is something I'm going to do."
Éowyn opened and closed her mouth, seemingly at a loss for words. Finally she stopped and grew still, appraising Marian with a burning look.
"This should be my fight," she whispered fiercely.
Marian nodded. "But I can't lead your people, so… maybe I can buy you some time."
Letting out a long breath, Éowyn shook her head.
"Marian, may I be very honest with you?"
"Uh, yes?"
Éowyn gripped her shoulders. "I do not think you will survive long enough to buy us much time."
Marian grimaced. "Then I'm sorry I'm not more of a fighter."
The two shared a moment of silence. Marian knew what Éowyn said was true- it was unlikely what she did from this moment on would have any impact whatsoever on the course of events. But a singular word spoken by Éowyn herself had kindled in Marian's mind; a small, shivering flame in a place not used to seeing the light.
Try.
Éowyn's fingers suddenly dug tighter into Marian's shoulders.
"Very well." She let go and grabbed Marian's hand instead, pulling her up. "We may never meet again, but from this day forward I will call you a sister."
"Éowyn…" A lump rose up in Marian's throat as she blinked back tears. "That is an honor I never expected."
Éowyn released her hand and stooped to pick up the sword she had left on the ground. She rolled her shoulders and gave Marian a slight smile.
"Do not drop your blade for one second, Marian."
With those words, the Lady of Rohan turned and followed the path her people had taken into the depths of the cave.