31 / 12 / 17 ~ And in which Eleanor learns to throw a javelin.

Disclaimer: "The Lord of the Rings" is the property of J. R. R. Tolkien. I only claim ownership over Eleanor Dace, Rávamë (aka "Tink"), and the subsequent plot of their story.

A/N: New Year's Eve surprise!

I really glad I managed to get this update done literally just in time for the last day of 2017, especially since several of you left such amazing Christmas gift fanart on my tumblr (the sounds I made seeing those was inhuman btw.) Granted most of you will probably not be able to read this update until next year, what with all the party going on. ;)

The number of reviews I'm getting on each update now is pretty staggering. CM now has more reviews than LM despite having barely over half the number of chapters. Thank you all so much for that! Specifically thank you to: SakiHanajima, WickedGreene13, Miki-chan13, RhysThornbery, Whimsical Acumen, RLMz, sai19, Ely-chan, Arwan, yasminafeir1, spiralheads, Ladybrae, Imamc, Angrypancakegoddess, The Dramatic Muffin, REMdream, tkhiroshi, JellyBear7, FictionalQuintessence, Ruiniel, pineapple-pancake, Call Me Bessie, thesonicsmiley, Robin Rokossovsky, luna153, zazanga, ReiLarroca, Addicted-to-GazettE, IntrovertedBookworm98, AkaMizu-chan, The Goonies, VanyaNoldo22, Hana-Lizzie-Chan, ImaginativeReader174, Cestrenes97, GeorgeTobor, Lethal Lauren, Jag, 12samanthafelix, Lucifae, and guests for putting all those thoughts to keys. Even when you guys don't always agree with a decision or plot point, you're always so eloquent and kind about it, and you have no idea how much that means.

Thank you all again so much for the comments/reviews/fanart/and lurking in the background enjoying the story silently. This last year has been difficult in places, but coming on here and reading/seeing what this story means to you all has been one of the best parts of it by far.

Hope you enjoy the rather action packed update, and have a happy New Year. x

Part II : Chapter 14

- Chasing Wolves -

"Well behaved women seldom make history." — Laurel Thatcher Ulric

Everything is scarier in the dark.

Horror movies, camping in the woods, Steven King novels.

But I'll say it from first hand experience: there's nothing quite like seeing a terrified warrior barrel into your line of sight, drenched head to toe in his friend's blood. I'd have taken an evil clown in a paper-mâché hat and bad face paint over that any day.

The smell of gore hit me from over ten feet away, and the scent alone was enough to pull every nerve in my body taut as a violin string. But the reaction of the people around me was what really drove the fear home. There's something about herd mentality that means if everyone around you is suddenly instinctively scared — no matter how you may be able to rationalise the sensation away — you are scared too.

And right then, everyone around me wasn't just scared.

They were pants-wettingly terrified.

A moment of eerie calm was all we got before the crowds of women, children, elderly, and soldiers all simultaneously dissolved into varying levels of hysterical panic. Some screamed, some fumbled to run, but most just stood rooted to the spot, paralysed by the base instinct that should have been urging them to protect themselves.

"Riders, to your mounts! Now! Move!" Theoden's voice bellowed over the sudden chaos, and though it took a beat longer than it should have, the guardsmen all did as instructed, running straight for wherever they'd left their now spooked horses to graze. With a booming shout Gimli tore from my side along with them, though I had no idea how he was planning on swinging himself up onto a horse without someone to help him.

I turned a frantic look to Boromir who had gone a bit white around the eyes. He looked fretfully down at me only long enough for us to exchange a short nod of understanding. They were needed, but I was no warrior. I couldn't help this time.

"Keep yourselves safe," Boromir said over the noise, clapping my shoulder in a firm grip just once, before quickly following the other soldiers to the horses.

"Make for the lower ground!" Eowyn was shouting at the women and children somewhere off to my left, herding them in the other direction. "Stay together!"

"Eleanor!" Sarra's voice finally penetrated my nerve-driven catatonia, and I spun to find her fearful but controlled gaze boring into mine. "We must go too."

I violently shook myself out of my daze, biting my nails into my palms to wake up my senses.

"Right, yeah. We need to find Freda and Eothain before…" I trailed off as a sudden flash of torchlight off gold blond hair dragged my eye to the riders. They were mostly mounted now, charging out into the dark, and I'd turned just in time to see him swing up onto Arod's back. Grey-blue eyes somehow found mine in the crowd of fleeing women, as if drawn there by a magnet, and for an impossibly long moment we just stared at each other. No anger or resentment or pain, just a lingering look.

And for the tiniest moment, that gaping pit that had opened between us seemed to shrink, and I wished more than anything I was close enough to say… something.

Anything.

Then the spell was broken by the sounds of fresh screams, and the feral howls of wargs on the hunt. They were closer, and would be over the hill and on top of us if we stayed any longer.

"Eleanor!"

Sarra jerked me sideways with a strength I didn't realise she had, and I instantly snapped out of it.

We couldn't run. Or at least, Sarra couldn't, and I was unwilling to leave her behind. The best bet we had was to find the kids, and get Sarra and Freda up onto Garulf's back. They could ride ahead while Eothain and I managed on foot. If we could just make it across the river—

"Eleanor!" A tiny, shrill voice screamed somewhere in the chaos, and I whirled, following the sound until I found Freda. Her little face had gone bloodless with fear, and she was fighting to keep a spooked Garulf on his tether. I dashed over to her and snatched the reins from her hands, doing my best to calm the frightened horse before he accidentally kicked her in his terror.

"Where's Eothain?" I demanded, looking around for any sign of the sandy haired teenager. Garulf was still stamping and thrashing, eyes rolling.

"I don't know," Freda whimpered, hugging herself tight and trembling. "He ran off the second he heard the king shouting."

"We cannot wait for him here," Sarra's voice was beginning to leak panic too as she appeared behind me. The last of the blood ran from poor Freda's face at those words, tears filling her wide eyes.

"B-but we can't leave him behind!"

Another bestial howl and a scream echoed over the hills, and Garulf gave a loud neigh of terror in reply. I was almost pulled over trying to calm him, and when I did I turned to see Freda and Sarra both had their attention fixed on me. They both looked mindless with fear now, desperate expressions on both faces as they stared at me, like they were waiting for me to tell them what to do.

Bloody hell, I was so not qualified for this.

"We need to get you both to lower ground," I said finally, trying and failing to hide my own panic behind a mask of calm logic. "The river isn't far. If we get across we should be safer."

Freda's eyes spilled over with tears, her whole body shaking.

"But—!"

I reached out, gripping her shoulder just enough to steady her. She was trembling so badly I couldn't believe she was still standing.

"We won't leave without him, Freda," I promised her as gently as I could. "But if we stay up here we'll all be trampled."

She blinked up at me, then clenched her eyes shut as the tears ran down her chin. She jerked her head in a single, quick nod, and I didn't waste any more time.

"Sarra, you first," I started, passing the reins to Freda and making a stirrup with my hands beside Garulf. Sarra didn't need telling twice. Despite her awkward baby-bump, she let me boost her up with only a little difficulty onto the horse's back, taking the reins and bringing him under control with firm, practiced hands. Reluctantly, Freda let me boost her up next to sit behind, her skinny arms wrapping around the older woman's rounded middle. But when she looked down at the saddle to get her feet in the stirrups, I saw her freeze.

"Oh no…" she breathed. My bones went cold.

"What is it?"

"Da's sword," Freda cried in sudden dismay, "it's gone!"

I just stared at her, then at the empty scabbard on Garulf's saddle, then out at the panicking people, a full five seconds dragging by before the reality of what had happened truly hit me like a kick to the stomach.

"Oh… flaming shite from hell!" I swore, spinning towards the sounds of fighting, howling, and clashing blades over the hill. "He didn't!"

But he had.

I knew it before the words were even out of my mouth. None of us needed to guess where Eothain had gone now. He and his sister had seen their home burn to the ground, their village destroyed, their mother left behind to likely die in the raids. Left with nothing but their father's blade, and a gut full of grief. He'd all but sung his intentions at me from the moment he'd woken after I'd stitched his head closed.

Ever since I'd told him and Freda that bloody story about Mulan going into battle in her father's place.

'Shit! Shit! Shit!'

With a new mix of horror and guilt whirling through me, I spun back to face Sarra on horseback. Her freckled face had gone ghostly too, and she was already shaking her head at me, as if knowing what I was about to say.

"Both of you head for the river crossing, I'll catch up with you on the other side!"

"You cannot go up there alone!" Sarra insisted, still shaking her head vehemently. "You'll be cut down in seconds!"

I smiled up at her, bitterness and fear twisting the edges.

"I'm not alone, and they'll have to catch me first," I said honestly, feeling the familiar brush of my passenger rising from where she had hidden deep inside me, and I knew without needing to see it that a flicker of gold had sparked in my eyes. Another howl, louder this time, bellowed over the hill, and I gave the pair of them a frantic push. "Go! We'll be right behind you!"

Sarra and Freda gave me one last helpless look, then Sarra kicked Garulf into a trot down the hill. He was an old horse and couldn't move fast, but in the torrents of fleeing people the gait was quick enough. I caught one last glimpse of Freda watching me with wide, fretful eyes over her shoulder before they both disappeared into the dark.

I turned away, refusing to think too hard about what I was about to do, and started sprinting up the hill.

Straight towards the sounds of the battle I should have been fleeing.

It didn't take me long to reach the top, but when I did, I no longer had the luxury of a consistent light source. Some of the soldiers still carried torches through the chaos below, but they were barely more than streaks of flame in the field below, lighting up brief flashes of chaos and carnage.

I saw a soldier on horseback firing an arrow into the dark, drawing a high pitched squeal from whatever he'd hit. Then the next second something wolf-shaped, covered in matted brown fur, and the size of a small pickup truck blurred out of the shadows and tore the man from the back of his mount. He barely had time to scream before the beast's finger-length teeth silenced him forever in a spatter of red.

And that was only one.

There were dozens of other scenes being played out in flashes of torchlight, each one bloodier and more terrifying than the next. Off to my right I caught sight of a mount-less soldier taking down a snarling warg with a spear. The armoured orc riding on its back flew off and crashed face-first into the ground, its neck snapping with a sickening crunch. To my left, a mounted rider caught an orc rider in the neck with a flaming arrow, only to have his own horse's legs scythed out from under him by another of the mangled hounds. He went crashing off into the gloom, too far away to see if he survived the landing.

Everywhere.

The chaos, and blood, and screams were everywhere.

I could barely recognise the soldiers from the orcs in the dark were it not for their mounts, and the bodies looked frighteningly similar lying twisted and broken on the grass. I couldn't see Aragorn, Boromir or Gimli, but I could hear the latter bellowing his distinctive war cry off somewhere in the distance.

The fear I'd forced down in front of Sarra and Freda started to sink its claws in deep.

There was no way I could hope to find Eothain in this madness on my own, let alone get him out of it…

"Tink!" I yelled, only realising I'd called for her out loud when my throat almost closed in terror. "Please, I need you!"

'I'm here, boss!' Her voice flowed through my mind like a cool breeze, the familiar sensation a balm to my tightening nerves. I pulled in a breath, using the precious moment of calm to force myself to think. Even with my elf sight I couldn't see a bloody thing outside the flashing torchlights, but there were too many riders belting about below on horseback to risk running in there unprepared. I had to know where I was going or I'd be crushed.

'I need to see, Tink,' I said inside my head, thinking deliberately back to when my gaze had sharpened to a hawk-like clarity when Boromir had grabbed me in Fangorn, trying to show her what I meant. I should have known better than to force the idea. She understood my train of thought faster than if I'd tried to say it aloud.

'It might hurt you, boss. Are you sure?' She asked seriously, not bothering to sugar coat it.

'It's the only chance we've got. If we go down there blind we'll be trampled,' I answered. 'Can you do it?'

Instead of answering, a sudden stinging, tingling sensation pulsed through my eyes, forcing them painfully shut. For a couple of awful seconds I couldn't see at all, the pain too much to open my eyes. When I finally did, I couldn't just see again — I could see everything that had been masked by the dark moments ago.

And for a moment, I really wish I had just gone in blind after all.

Everything is scary in the dark, but there are some things that are so much worse when you can actually see them for what they are. And I couldn't just see random flashes of the mayhem anymore, I could see every detail of what it had wrought. Every body, every spatter of blood, and torn grass — and I'll tell you right now, it's not a memory I'd be in a hurry to re-live, perfect elf memory or no.

'Hurry! I won't be able to hold this for long!' Tink's voice had become strained and gritted, like she was struggling to hold up a crushing weight that was only getting heavier by the second.

'Just keep it up as long as you can without knocking us out,' I answered, forcing down my terror, and charging down the hill at breakneck speed, straight for an opening in the fighting.

I didn't allow myself to think too much over the next few seconds, and it was seconds, even though it felt like hours running through that screaming chaos. My heightened night vision skimmed over dozen and dozens of corpses, forcing myself to ignore the howls of the dying and mortally wounded, dodging and weaving night-blind horses and wargs in the dark. There was too much going on for any of them to notice one stray elf girl charging like a madwoman through the melee, but it didn't stop me from running as fast as I possibly could, praying that if I moved fast enough, even a stray warg wouldn't be quick enough to catch me.

Just when I was beginning to bump up against my own limits, and my legs were beginning to cramp, I spotted him. I almost fell flat over a dead guardsman and impaled myself on his spear in my haste to stop in time.

A splash of sandy blond curls had caught my eye like a beacon, barely fifteen feet away in a sea of mangled grass, dying beasts, and black-spattered bodies.

He was upright, shouting, and swinging his father's long blade in a trembling two-handed grip at something in the gloom, and only when it came further into view did I see what it was. A orc rider, sans its warg, but no less deadly for the lack of a carnivorous mount. It was snarling and laughing as it lunged at the boy, toying with him blade-to-blade like a cat playing with its dinner. Eothain screamed something I didn't hear properly, lunging for the orc in a clumsy over-hand swing, and I saw instantly what was about to happen.

'No!'

My hands moved on their own, and it was only when I looked back on the whole scene later in recall that I realised it must have been at least partly Tink, her muscle memory overriding mine for a fraction of a second.

But a fraction was all she needed.

My hand shot out, closing around the shaft of the spear I'd almost fallen over, and jerking it from the ground with a strength that couldn't possibly have been mine. Though I'd seen it done plenty on the athletics pitch, I'd never actually thrown a javelin in my life, yet my body seemed to know what to do entirely on instinct. I flipped the spear over easily in one hand and drew it back, my throwing arm extended out behind me until the lance tip pointed just past the side on my face, my other arm pointed forward as a guide and counter-weight.

The orc blurred with a grin straight for Eothain's exposed side, and with a grunt of effort, I threw with all my strength.

For a second the spear seemed to hang suspended in the air over the battlefield, spinning through the air in an impossibly graceful arc — my aim and Tink's strength working in perfect tandem.

Then it hit the orc square in the chest, the point striking right through the heart and out the other side. Eothain screamed in surprise this time, as the body fell backwards to the ground in a spatter of blackened blood, its blade clattering away into the dark.

Achilles, eat your heart out.

But I didn't have time for a victory dance, or for utter shock at what I had just done. I charged down the hill at full speed, barely avoiding stumbling on the torn up ground, and only vaguely aware that I was still revved up way past my normal adrenaline level. I'd almost forgotten about Tink's night vision too, right up until I reached Eothain and almost scared the pants off him when I reached out and grabbed his arm. The over-sized sword almost fell straight out of his hands and onto my foot. To be fair though, he had just come close to being gored by an orc, and to his eyes, I'd just sprung out of nowhere with a likely mad gleam in my eye.

In for a penny, in for a pound, I guess.

"Come with me if you want to live," I growled in a surprisingly good imitation of Arnold Schwarzenegger.

Eothain stared at me wide-eyed, blond hair swishing as his head shook automatically. Thinking fear had paralysed him, I tried pulling him hastily back the way I'd come, but he only gripped the blade tighter and pulled back.

"N-no, I won't! My Da, my family's honour! I need to—!" he babbled. I wasn't sure he even realised he was speaking out loud, but it didn't matter. My own fear and frustration flared without warning, and I seized him by the front of his shirt, all but lifting him off the ground thanks to Tink turbo-charging my engines.

"I wasn't asking, kid! Your sister needs you alive! If we stay here, we'll both die!" I snapped, shoving him gob-smacked back toward the hills. "Start running, now!"

Maybe it was the damn near animal snarl in my tone, or the gold I could feel flashing in my eyes, or the scream of a nearby guardsman as he was thrown from his horse and gored beneath a snapping warg, but Eothain didn't argue again. He only swallowed, eyes wide on mine, then he turned and started bolting back up the slope like his tail was on fire, his father's sword gripped tight to his chest like a lifeline.

'Well, at least you can add 'babysitter extraordinaire' to your resume after this,' Tink commented dryly, despite her strain. The ghost of a smirk tugged my lip as we started to hot-foot it after the blond teenager.

I'd barely made it three steps when my instincts suddenly screamed at me to duck.

I did, but something snarling and hideously strong still managed to reach out and grab a fist full of my hair, wrenching my head back to expose my throat. Another mount-less orc, bigger this time, raised its blade, gleeful to stab down at my jugular, rotten teeth bared to black gums.

Thrashing in panic I automatically fumbled for the blade at my hip, unsheathed my knife just in time, stabbing it straight down into the orc's upper thigh with a scream.

Actually I stabbed a little higher than that if I'm being honest, but I really didn't want to think about that any more than I had to.

The newly gelded orc squealed and jerked like a stuck pig, falling backwards away from me in twitching spasms of agony as I scrambled away. Its warg however, howled in fury and sprang from the darkness behind as I spun to face it, only this time I didn't have time to duck or dodge.

I didn't even have time to open my mouth and scream as a flash of torchlight lit up its fangs…

Then, right at the moment I was sure I was about to feel teeth pierce my throat, the beast flew sideways in a blur of fur, and blood, and a yip of pain. The scream left me in a rush of air, and for a second I couldn't understand what I'd just seen. Then I spotted the shaft of a Rohan spear sticking out of the dead warg's flank, and whirled just in time to see a pair of familiar steel grey eyes in a furious face bearing down on me from the back of a horse.

"What in the abyss are you doing here?!" Aragorn yelled, bringing Hasufel to a grinding halt barely a foot from me.

I'd never been so happy to have him there shouting at me.

My ears rang and my night vision suddenly sputtered and died like a burned out lightbulb. I winced as my head throbbed, something warm tricking from my nose down over my lips, and the taste of copper touching my tongue.

My nose was bleeding again.

'I'm sorry, boss. I can't… I can't do any more…' she groaned, her voice gone tinny and quiet.

'It's ok, Tink. You've done enough.'

I had to blink and shake my head a few times before I could see and hear properly again, and by then it was apparent that Aragorn was close to detonating.

"You need to get away from here! Now!" he was bellowing, pointing violently back in the direction I'd sent Eothain. "Go!"

He really needn't have yelled.

I couldn't have agreed more now that my night vision had gone.

Before either of us could so much as twitch in the direction of safety however, another bone chilling howl exploded from my left, and another warg and its rider screeched as they bounded straight at us from the gloom.

Aragorn's blade blurred up in an instant eye-height slash that would have taken the orc's head clean off if it had been going for him.

But it hadn't been going for him.

The warg charged straight for me, and the orc rider seized me by the scruff of my tunic before I could dive away. A choked scream escaped me as I was tugged back hard enough to strangle me with my own collar, my body being dragged alongside the running beast. I heard Aragorn bellow my name somewhere back in the dark, but honestly, I was more concerned with the fact that both my airway and the blood to my brain was cut off. If I couldn't do something about it in the next seven seconds, I'd be unconscious.

More than fifteen and I'd be dead.

Struggling against the pull of the orc, with my free hand trying desperately to pull the fabric noose from my neck, I flung my knife hand back searching for anything to stab into. I only needed a bit of leverage to lift the weight off my throat.

I'm not sure how, but the blade somehow hooked right through the top of the orc's breastplate, right between its skin and the leather.

It wasn't even a wounding blow, but it was enough.

I heaved, yanking it sideways, pulling myself off the ground as the orc howled in protest. The second my airway was clear enough to gasp in a breath I flung my other hand up and caught the struggling orc by the neck of its armour, the perfect reverse of where it still had hold of me.

Again, I don't know how I managed it, but kicking my legs off the blurring ground I somehow used my own momentum and my death grip on the orc's collar to swing myself up in front of it, barely catching myself in a half-straddle, half-crouch on the warg's upper back. I almost fell straight off the other side with a scream, but I caught my balance, barely avoiding falling headfirst onto the ground to be trampled under both the running warg and Aragorn's horse.

I could still hear him shouting, and they were quickly catching up.

The warg didn't stop running, but the orc rider gaped at me like I'd just appeared before it in a puff of evil smoke. I didn't have the mental space or the time to gloat. Knife still in hand, and twisting around with my teeth bared, I plunged my blade back once, twice, straight into its diaphragm. It was damned impossible to aim properly in the dark, but the ranger-made steel punched straight through the leather breastplate like it was cardboard, and I knew I'd hit my mark when I heard the creature let out a strangled gurgling noise. Spasming violently as it choked on its own blood, the movement jerked the warg's reins sharply to the left, and with a startled whinny, I felt more than saw Hasufel's legs tangle with the hound's loping gait.

The poor horse went down with a terrible crash, and with a startled shout, Aragorn flew off the horse's back like a burly discus.

He smashed straight into the dying orc, knocking it sideways off to the blood-covered ground, my knife still buried in its gut.

My insides twisted with the urge to dive after my weapon, but I didn't have time as Aragorn — apparently dazed by the collision — was suddenly slipping over the other side of the running warg's saddle. With a sharp cry I sprang after him, trying to catch his arm. I grabbed him just over his left elbow, pulling up hard, but his leather gauntlet twisted and snagged tight on the side of the warg's spiky saddle.

"Oh, come on!"

Gripping the warg's sides with my legs, I leaned down and tried to find the latches for Aragorn's gauntlet, all while trying not to be thrown off the sprinting beast's back.

It was like trying to untie a tricky knot while riding a carnivorous rollercoaster with no seatbelt.

The warg, for its part, didn't seem to realise the girl on its back wasn't its rider, but it was pretty damned determined to drag Aragorn along until he was either mincemeat or pulled off. It thrashed and wove as it ran, and Aragorn came out of his daze just as the warg decided its best bet was to just run even faster.

His un-trapped hand came up to grab the saddle beside mine.

"Eleanor, let go!" he ordered, all but shouting right into my face. I gritted my teeth and ignored him, pulling the second of the three latches free.

"I've almost got it!"

I saw him shake his head frantically, his voice more panicked than angry now.

"Leave me! It's going for the—!"

The last buckle snapped open and his arm came free.

"There!"

Then suddenly we were in the air…

The ground vanished from under us and I saw Aragorn's hair fly up as if in a sudden gust of wind, both our bodies completely weightless for a fraction of a second…

Then we were falling.

The torchlight vanished upward along with the sounds of the fight in a blur. My stomach flew upward to bounce off the roof of my mouth, and the wind suddenly rushing past my ears was deafening. I couldn't scream, but the air still rushed out of me in a silent, painful exhale as I realised what had happened.

We'd run straight over the edge of a cliff.

The last thing I remember seeing was Aragorn's grey eyes going wide in a flash of moonlight, his freed hand desperately reaching for me as we fell down into the dark.

I couldn't remember hitting the water of the river below.

All I remembered was cold pain, sudden, and intense, and everywhere.

Then nothing but silence.

A/N: Ok, so I know I'm one for cliffhangers, but I admit, this one was a bit literal even by my standards. No protagonists were killed in the making of this update, promise. XD

So now the big questions for you guys: are you ready to finally learn a bit more about Ellie's old life, along with Var's real name? A fair few of you have already figured it out correctly and let me know via PM (so impressed with your sleuthing skills guys, omg), but just in case you've only just figured it out, just a gentle reminder:

If you do manage to figure out Ellie's real identity, please don't give the game away in reviews! There are some readers who don't want to be spoiled! If you want to let me know you've found out who she really is, please feel free to drop me a PM anytime! I makes me so happy to know people are starting to see the pieces fall into place!

Stay alert for the next chapter. It's one I've been looking forward to writing for a very long time, and I'm so enjoying working on it. :)

Side note: I saw The Greatest Showman with my family yesterday, and holy crap it was amazing! Every song on that album was spectacular, but "This Is Me" and "A Million Dreams" are definitely the songs I'm going to be singing (badly) in the car at full volume for a long time to come.

Happy New Year guys. Hope 2018 is your year for wonder and joy.

Much love, and until next time,

Rella x