LOTR/ TH Imagines

Battle of Mordor- Aragorn

-.-Edited-.-

Aragorn's POV:

The footsteps were muffled by the sand as the combined armies of Rohan and Gondor marched to the Black Gates. Horses whinnied as the shadow of Mordor grew nearer. The men were nervous-- they whispered insistently but dared not to speak any louder. They had all been briefed of what we came to do: buy Frodo time to destroy the Ring of Power by creating a distraction.

Undoubtedly, people would die. Yet the men knew that if Frodo didn't make it, there would be more death, more destruction, and more war.

I was at the front of the army. As future King of Gondor, I had to lead my people. I had to give them courage. Other leaders and representatives of foreign countries rode alongside me as well. Y/n of Rivendell rode to my right with Legolas and Gimli. Eomer and Gandalf were to my left.

This could be the doom of Rohan and Gondor. I gripped the reins of my horse harder and looked to Y/n for reassurance-- only to find she was looking toward me already.

-.-

The gates opened to reveal the army of Mordor. It was a force larger than I have ever encountered.

"Fall back!" I yelled at my accompaniment. We spurred our horses back to the alliance.

Y/n rode closer. "Courage," she said, grabbing my hand. "They will follow you."

The men quaked behind their spears and shields. A few, who had been standing in the front, stumbled back until their backs were pressed to those who were behind them.

"Hold your ground!" I shouted. "Hold your ground!"

They still shared uncertain looks.

"Sons of Gondor! Of Rohan! My brothers. I see in your eyes the same fear that would take the heart of me. A day may come when the courage of Men fails when we forsake our friends and break all bonds of fellowship, but it is not this day! An hour of wolves and shattered shields when the Age of Men comes crashing down, but it is not this day! This day we fight! By all that you hold dear on this good earth, I bid you stand, Men of the West!"

Cheers filled the air, thunderous and loud. Swords were raised to the air. I met Y/n's gaze, her eyes shining with pride.

The orcs advanced. I dismounted my horse and set it free. Then, with a battle cry, I ran out to meet the force of Mordor in battle.

Banners flew in the wind. The white horsetails upon the Rohirrim helms seemingly floated above the battle. Men were fighting valiantly, but the orcs had us surrounded.

In the distance, Legolas shot arrows at any orc that dared get near him. Eomer was fighting back-to-back with his people. I spotted Y/n at the edge of the circle. I couldn't see Gimli or any of the hobbits, but every once and a while orcs would fall at an unknown cause and disappear. I assumed they were fine.

The battle became worse. I reminded myself why we were fighting-- for Frodo. For freedom.

In the midst of the action, I heard the low growl of a troll behind me. It's hot breath on my neck. I turned to face it-- it had a malicious look in its eye. Already, it reeked of death.

I grit my teeth. I wouldn't back down to his threat.

The giant moved quickly on the offense. I had to move my instinct and muscle memory, there was no time to think. For every stroke it aimed, I blocked. But it was stronger.

With a single blow, I was knocked to the ground. All air had left me on impact. I didn't have time to bring myself back to my feet or find my sword again. Out of the corner of my eye, I could see Legolas attempting to push through the masses to get to me. Y/n had her sword drawn and she was hacking down any orc between us.

The troll towered over me, roaring in its minor victory. Its foot slammed down on me-- there was a loud snap that came from the direction of my ribs-- I drew my knife and plunged it somewhere I hoped it would hurt.

It only smirked in its own cruel way. He lifted its sword and prepared the blow that would undoubtedly take my life. I heard Y/n scream-- a guttural sound full of pain.

I looked to her in what I thought to be my last moments, to see her on her knees with a blade through her back.

-.-

Your POV:

You saw Aragorn fall. You were at the edge of the fighters, closest to the ranks of Mordor, but you knew you had to get to him before it was too late. Fear struck you suddenly-- fear that you would lose your best friend-- and your mind sped up. Unfortunately, the faster you went the less accurate you got.

You pushed and shoved your way to him. The more pressure you put on others, more pressure was put on you. Something shoved you from behind and you stumbled to your knees, coughing as the dust was flying around you.

Then pain pierced you suddenly. A sword was sticking out of your chest by a downward blow. You could feel the hilt pressing against your back before it was yanked away. You feel to the ground, shocked.

You tilted your head to where you last saw Aragorn. He was still beneath the troll, who had its blade poised to strike. He was shouting at you-- what was he saying? His eyes were wide. He looked pained-- aged, even.

You wouldn't be able to make it to him in time. Not unless something miraculous happened.

And yet, it seemed, miracles do happen.

There was a wailing sound coming from within the gates. Orcs shrieked as the Sauron's tower cracked and fell. The Eye enlarged, shrank, then exploded with a massive burst of energy. It was all so sudden that everyone stopped fighting for a moment, processing what had happened.

You knew what it meant: Frodo and Sam were still alive. The Ring of Power was destroyed.

The troll that pinned Aragorn ran off. With the destruction of the Ring, so came the ruin of Mordor. The mountain exploded and the Black Gates toppled. The barren land around you broke away and fell into a bottomless pit. Even the ground by you crumbled. Your arm and leg hung over the edge.

It was hard to think about what had happened, considering that your leather armor was soaked through. The blood pooled around you and dripped off the newly-formed cliff.

"Y/n!" You were in Aragorn's embrace. He dragged you away from the edge and began assessing your wound. His hand pressed down over the source of the blood flow, but he was useless to stop it.

Your lungs felt like they were filling with water. Trying to breathe was like pushing up a horse on your chest.

You croaked, "Ari..."

"Lie still," Aragorn crooned. His free hand clutched one of your own.

"What about Frodo?"

"Gandalf will look for him and Sam. Please, try not to talk." You watched as his eyebrows furrowed together and worry-lines appeared on his forehead. There was a look in your eye that you saw ever so often: the look of a healer who could not save their patient; the look of a warrior who knew that once the pool of blood was large enough their comrade was beyond saving.

He shook his head, a slight motion, and grit his teeth. He wouldn't stop trying to save you, you realized.

"I'm sorry," you whispered. You could feel a tear moving toward your ear. "I wasn't thinking... I just wanted to help..."

"Y/n," he sighed, closing his eyes. "Please-"

"-Don't say it. It's going to happen."

You could see the tears pooling, threatening to drop as he leaned over you. "You'll be a great king, Aragorn. They will follow you."

"Hold on, Y/n." His voice wavered. Yet you felt no pain anymore. Your body was shutting down, starting from your chest and spreading outward. It was the feeling of serenity like you were submerged in a cool lake on a hot summer's day. The water was filling your lungs-- you let it.

The Fellowship that started with ten members ended with eight.