After the week, they walk out of the woods the same way they entered, but this time no one gets lost as all elves leave the palace. The armies are already arriving to the fields and placing south of the Forest Gate, all warriors of Mirkwood go join them.
It's a multitude like Elarinya had never seen. Gondor, Rohan, Ithilien. The Woodland Realm, Dale. The dwarves of the Iron Hills, Erebor, Gliterring Caves, Moria. There are still no orcs at sight, but the dwarves from Erebor and a Mirkwood scout affirm there was smoke and agitation on the west, where Gundabad stays. They were preparing to move.
The tents are set, the following day the battle should begin. Far behind the battlefield stay the healers, Athelas included, preparing for anyone who arrives. She comes to visit her sister, intends to stay the night with her before they fight.
In the afternoon, as the kings and lords reunite to settle the last details of the attack, a soldier comes as slight turmoil rises among the soldiers "My lords, various mercenaries have arrived. They assure none has ill intents and that their leader is here, though they have started insulting and threatening some of the guards."
Everyone looks at Elarinya, she quirks her eyebrows "I've sent some letters. They are most certainly here to help us."
Elarinya walks rapidly, her friends following with curiosity, and soon they reach the fight and the half hundred mercenaries that are around, either trying to stop it, betting on it or encouraging it. It's a tall slender mercenary against a Rohirrim. Elarinya sighs, puts her fingers to her mouth and whistles very loudly, gathering everyone's attention. The fight stops right away, the mercenary letting the Rohirrim go.
A brute approaches. He is as tall as a mountain and his muscled arms seem made of rocks, he is bigger than Thranduil. Every inch of his skin has a scar and he walks towards her. His voice is so deep one could think it came from the entrails of the earth "Umbra."
"Mountain," of course the name suits him, being as strong and tall as one.
A grin slowly grows on his face, his laughter sounds like thunder booming in the sky. He grabs her and gives her a tight hug, lifting her from the ground. Her friends can hear her joints cracking in the process. When Elarinya is put down, she rolls her neck and shakes her shoulders, clearly discomfortable from the smashing. He speaks "We have read your letters. We come to fight with you."
She smiles kindly "There is no big reward for this, Mountain. In the worst case we all pay with our lives."
"These are our lands, it's our home. We won't find more jobs if everyone is dead," Mountain says, making Elarinya chuckle as she shakes her head "Besides, if you fight this one it's because it must be fought. We are willing to follow you."
Elarinya's heart swells, she didn't know she was trusted like this. She extends her hand and they grab each other's elbows, the warrior's greeting. She says solemnly "Thank you."
"However," he speaks teasingly "If there is a chance after this we could be paid with ale."
Elarinya smiles "It will be arranged, you have my word."
All mercenaries cheer and greet Elarinya in turns. Faramir offers to put them aware of the strategy and they all listen respectfully.
Éowyn and Gimli steal her for a while. The lady speaks "I hope you do not expect to fight dressed like that."
"Aye, lassie. Your skin is paper to those weapons."
"I do not enjoy armors much," Elarinya comments "They are large and block my movements-"
She is interrupted as each of them hands her a gift. Éowyn holds a light breastplate, smaller and adapted to a woman's curves, while Gimli has a sleeved chainmail made of Mithril. Éowyn smiles "Good armor can protect many wounds. And we must stay together, care and protect each other," Éowyn says with the complicity of a woman.
"And I like ye very much, lassie. I hope this protects you."
Elarinya looks at their gifts and then hugs them "Thank you."
The following morning, Athelas helps her with her armor and Elarinya takes her position in the battlefield. She picks her own weapons and some special Mirkwood metal arrows that could pierce through the strongest enemy, according to Legolas. Both share a longing look followed by a confident smile before they take place on the battlefield. They are ready to finally put an end to all this torment.
She can see the orcs approaching far away. The creatures seem to account to many thousands, but they are just as much and smarter than the orcs. Let them come, she thinks, let them see that good will always prevail on these lands.
Aragorn gives an heroic motivational speech that encourages the men to fight with all the power and will they have. The orcs have started to align and soon their tiers are formed.
The war starts with the archers. Elves and men form long rows of lifted bows, the immortals moving in perfect synchrony. The arrows fly and most find their targets in the bodies of the orcs, others on their shields or the ground. The orcs respond with their own arrows after a while.
The orcs have brought their catapults, but so have the dwarves. Large rocks are being thrown along with the arrows, the casualties rise. Elarinya speaks to a mercenary that is nearby "Have you done what I asked?"
He nods "The wine was poured."
Elarinya retrieves one of her fire arrows along with another mercenary that originally found them. They nod between each other, step forward among the archers and shoot their arrows towards the floor near the orcs as the next volley of arrows flies too. They whiper "Naur" once they hit the ground and the two arrows light on fire, the wine spilled on the grass burns, and soon the front orcs are in flames, the wood on the catapults burns. They step back to the infantry, being cheered by partners and strangers.
The fire takes a while to be brought down, and it only increases the rage of the orcs. As soon as they get aggitated and prepare to advance, the calvary is ready to charge. Rohirrim, riders of Gondor and Ithilien, and the Iron Hills dwarves mounted on their war boars, all ride against the orcs, and the massacre acquires greater proportions.
When the horses start to be taken down and more orcs charge, all species yell and run, fighting for the end of evil and their future in Middle Earth.
The Mithril vest and the armor save Elarinya a couple of times. Instead of a fatal wound to her chest, it is only a strong push that throws her away, but doesn't take her life. On the other hand, her sword was sharpened the night before, and the thin blade cuts deep and fast, soon drenched in dark blood.
She had never been in a fight like this, with thousand of orcs surrounding her, without enough space to hide or prepare a stealthy attack. By the dozens or few hundreds she could count, but never had thousands filled her sight. She can do this, however. As long as she protects her head, neck, hands and legs, she will survive.
Elarinya slashes a throat, pierces an abdomen, crushes a skull with the hilt of her sword, dismembers an arm, rips one leg. She receives her fair share of small cuts and scratches on her cheeks, hands, forehead, the back of her legs, all wounds she can handle and barely feels in the heat of the moment. She fights back to back with her friends, protects anyone whenever they seem in danger, and is protected in return when any orcs try to stab her in her back. And if the orcs are fool enough to go near the river, she pushes them to the strong currents.
The woman follows the mercenaries and does what they all know how to do best, cause chaos among the orcs. She returns and helps a wounded elf mount an horse, makes him ride to the healers camp. Athelas will be safe, Éowyn and the Hobbits are part of the soldiers who protect the rearguard. Her sister is in safe hands. Elarinya trespasses an orc but the blade remains stuck on its armor. She has no time to lose, she leaves her sword where it is and holds a long hunting blade on the right hand and a long hunting knife on the left. She keeps slicing them, this time hitting them faster, cutting with no mercy. Sometimes she hears Gimli's voice, he shouts numbers.
This deadly exchange of blows, stabs and punctures continues for a couple of hours. The orcs are growing few in number, many men, dwarves and elves were lost, but many more prevail. She knows what is coming next. The assault to Angmar's castle. She starts moving forward, towards the mountains, opening the way among the remaining orcs.
As she beheads the orc in front of her, blood splattering on her face, trotting is heard behind her. Some of the Rohirrim and Gondor horsemen have provided their horses to the Woodland Realm elves, who now ride towards the mountains for the attack on the castle, to kill every remaining orc defending it and eventually face the elleth in command. Faramir and Éomer command the soldiers who stay to finish these orcs, prevent the foul creatures to hit their friends as they leave for a greater mission. Aragorn calls her name, reaches his hands and she mounts his steed. Legolas rides with Gimli. Thranduil rides too.
They ride north in the hopes they will get a chance to ride south once again.
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