as promised, here's the next chapter, which is dedicated to the lovely JNKLOVEBOT! thank you for your ongoing support, hopefully you enjoy this chapter for you! <3
────── ༻♛༺ ──────
As the ground passed beneath my feet, I could feel the very beat of my heart ripple from my ribcage as I flew through the air, thudding in my eardrums as all else fell into silence. My gaze never left my target.
Impact. My hands wrapped around the spear. The rest of my body was flung back as the beast continued to charge. I grit my teeth, tightening my grip around the wooden shaft of the spear. Every footfall, every one of its movements threatened to throw me off to be trampled below.
I knew I could not just dangle there aimlessly.
Holding on as the oliphaunt continued to thunder across the plains, I felt my core muscles tense as I swung myself up alongside the momentum of the beast's footfalls. Reaching out a hand, my fingers brushed against a spear wedged higher up. But it was just out of reach.
I grit my teeth. Just a bit further. Below me, I could hear the cries of people being crushed and splattered against the ground.
Mustering any strength left in my tired, aching muscles, I swung again. This time, I felt my fingers wrap around the spear. All of a sudden, the creature seemed to change direction, and I tightened my grip, feeling myself dangerously close to falling off. But I had to keep going, I told myself, feeling beads of sweat forming on my forehead.
My biceps burnt as I continued to leap and swing from spear to spear, until finally, I was near the head, where I could hear the malicious laughter from whoever was controlling the oliphaunt. I set my jaw.
Grabbing the rope, I deftly climbed up, ignoring the burn of the coarse fibre rubbing against my palms. With one final burst of movement, I pulled myself up onto the top of the head in one swift motion. Before the man could even react, I drew my dagger. Within a flash, I had slashed the blade across his throat. Blood spurted from the wound as I threw his body off the mumakil, watching it fall amongst the wreckage of the battlefield. The thud was cathartic.
The beast below me let out a deafening trumpet, and I felt its pace quicken.
Immediately, some of the Haradrim in the towers let out a shout of alarm, catching my attention. Producing my sword, I set my jaw as I watched them advance towards me carefully across the oliphaunt's back, swords raised above their heads, yellowed teeth bared. Carefully, I adjusted my footing as the creature's head swung its tusk with another bellowing growl, careful not to lose the precarious sense of balance still keeping me atop the beast.
Strike by strike, I deflected the swings of the enemy, whilst at the same time trying to to balance atop the head of the frenzied beast, dispatching the men one by one. One man charged, only for a sweep of the legs to send him tumbling off the side. I didn't even hear his body hit the ground before another one attacked.
I managed to disarm one man, his blade falling off the side. But before I could even take a breath, a fist swung my way. A hot throbbing pain erupted from my jaw, followed by a sharp biting pain on my lip. I stumbled backwards, almost losing my footing. A metallic taste flooded my mouth.
As I wiped the red liquid from my nose, I noticed a bow and arrow being drawn in my peripheral vision. At the same time, the oliphaunt swung its tusks. Quickly, I braced myself. The man stumbled. And that was all I needed. Taking advantage of his loss of balance, I sprung forward, a cry of anger leaving my lips. In a split second, I wrapped an arm around his neck, before wrenching him back around to face the tower.
Just in time. With a thunk, I watched as an arrow embedded into the man's chest. He let out a strangled cry of pain, trying desperately to struggle free. But it was too late for him.
Several more arrows flew my way, but I ducked my head, hearing more cries from the man in my arms as he took on the arrows of his comrades, his body convulsing with each impact.
I almost felt bad.
After a few more moments, I finally threw the arrow-ridden body of the man aside as more men stepped out to fight.
I narrowed my eyes at them, spitting out the blood in my mouth.
But before I could take another step forwards, the tower behind them seemed to wobble. And before any of the men knew what was happening, the entire structure began to topple, the saddle sliding off the oliphaunt, taking the panicked cries of the Haradrim within with it as it plummeted to the ground with a crash.
Immediately, an arrow embedded into the chest of one of the remaining men. I watched as a flash of golden hair emerged from the side of the oliphaunt. Piercing blue eyes narrowed with concentration, trained upon his target as arrow after arrow was fired in quick succession, picking off the remainder of the men one by one, faster than I could keep track of.
Suddenly, I found myself staring straight into the point of a drawn arrow.
"Woah!" I exclaimed, raising my hands. It was all just so fast.
"Legolas! It-it's me!"
Quickly, I pulled off the helmet.
The elf prince's eyes softened with recognition, and he lowered the bow immediately. I lowered my hands.
"Daeriel?"
Our eyes met, and I felt a rush of an indescribable emotion coursing through my body; relief, regret, care, guilt...
But this moment was short lived as the trumpeting of the oliphaunt beneath us snapped us back to reality. He sent an urgent glance back at me, and I nodded.
Lifting my sword high above my head, I gathered any strength left in my body. With a cry, I drove my sword down into the neck of the beast, severing the brain's connection to the spine. Yanking the blade back out, an earth shattering growl erupted from the mouth of the beast as the entire surface beneath my feet shook violently.
I guess I never planned far ahead enough to figure out how to get off the collapsing beast.
But Legolas seemed to have it sorted.
"Come on!"
I felt the elf grab my arm as the oliphaunt lurched forwards. With him pulling me behind him, we leapt off the head as it crashed into the ground with a deafening thud, sliding down the trunk as the beast finally collapsed. Almost losing my balance as the final movement of the trunk flung me off, I practically fell into Legolas, who managed to catch me before I could faceplant into the ground.
My breaths falling in shallow pants, I glanced back up, seeing Legolas offer his hand to me.
"Th...Thank you." I barely got out, accepting his hand and letting him pull me back to my feet as I caught my breath.
But as I stood up, I found myself no more than an inch away from the elf, his hands still on my shoulders, as if making sure I was okay, supporting my weight.
Looking up, my gaze locked with his. Behind us, I heard Gimli angrily exclaim...something, but I could not focus on that, or anything else for that matter.
All I knew was the unquenchable spark of something erupting within at the care and concern that seemed to flood his gaze. His eyes seemed to scan my body for injuries, before settling on the cut on my busted lip. His brows furrowed ever so slightly. His hand travelled up from my shoulder, but, almost as if thinking better of it, he stopped, before letting go. His eyes fell to the ground, and he took a step back.
"I'm sorry."
And I felt my heart fall.
In that moment, the sensation I now knew as regret overpowered all other senses, the overwhelming swirl of emotions, flooding into my mind like water breaking from behind a dam. The distance between us felt unbearable. I wanted his hand on my cheek; I longed for the softness and care in every caress; I craved the feeling of his skin against mine, his warmth—everything I had tried so hard to stay away from, to deprive myself from for what now felt like aeons.
I missed...him.
And before any rational thought could stop me, thoughts spiralling, heart racing, I closed the distance between us, grabbing his collar, pulling him down into a sudden kiss.
Our lips touched, and I could tell at first he was taken aback. But I felt his posture soften almost instantaneously, as if moulding to my touch. As every single stressor in my life piled up upon my shoulders, weight upon weight, mountain upon mountain—Maeglor, my father, the Ring, Sauron...this was all I wanted to do.
I gave in.
But...as fast as it began, it ended.
Pulling away, I didn't wait to hear his reaction. Instead, I turned around, hearing only the pounding of my heart within my ribcage as I found myself hastily walking away, my mind still reeling as it began to process what I had just done. I put the helmet back on. Ignoring his voice calling my name and how much the sound sent sparks flickering in my stomach, I picked my sword from off the ground and, as if nothing had happened, dove back into battle.
As much as my heart and mind wanted to just stop and process, I had promised myself that I would not let my emotions compromise anything else. And that was a promise I intended to keep. I let myself go for a moment. It was now time to focus again.
Now on foot, I tried to push everything occupying my mind to the side, recentering my attention onto the battle ahead. It wasn't over yet.
With dark storm clouds continuing to loom overhead, casting their shadows over the dry, burning earth, and the shrill screeches of whatever creature Sauron had summoned echoed intermittently above us, I swallowed.
Far from over.
Especially when I had no idea what role Maeglor played in all of this. As my sword clashed with an orc scythe, my mind was preoccupied. Gritting my teeth, I fluidly ducked a swing, my brow furrowed as my thoughts ran.
He came to me...that was surely a good sign.
My brows furrowed as I produced the dagger from my boot. With a twirl of the blade, I drove it deep into the throat of the orc, yanking it out with the usual spurt of black blood and the awful gurgling sound.
And I remembered the look behind his dark, charcoal eyes. I recognised it: shame, resentment and bitterness.
Was he still in hiding, sheltering from the wrath of the dark lord at the news of his failure? Was he still willing to help us?
Or was he...here? Lying in wait, ready to strike when I was most vulnerable?
Re-sheathing my dagger and adjusting my grip around the golden hilt of my sword, I once again lifted my gaze to the battlefield around me. But again, my vision was flooded with death, carnage, and every other second, someone was trying to kill me.
I just didn't know. And the uncertainty was killing me.
And something else was also nagging at the back of my mind.
Hastily scanning the battlefield, I brought two fingers to my lips, letting out a shrill whistle and calling for Aldion. But, I heard no response. A pang of fear jolted through my heart as I furrowed my brows. What if...what if something happened to him? Speeding up, I ran through the field, my eyes scouring the environment, searching for any sign of him.
Second by second, I could feel my anxiety heighten, my mind running through every single possibility in my head.
He had to be alright, I told myself as I navigated the vast field, searching everywhere. He had to be.
All of a sudden, I froze.
An ear-piercing, bone-shattering screech resonated through the air, so loud I could almost feel the very air around me tremble.
As the ominous dark shadow of the Fellbeast swooped over me with yet another terrifying shriek, I felt every hair on my body stand on end, my blood running cold. It felt as if my heart stopped, as if some instinctual fear response buried far below in the depths of my psyche had reemerged, taking control of my function.
But wasn't just instinct. It was history.
The Fellbeast landed with a thud, its torn, leather-like wings outstretching with an earth-shaking roar, before slowly lowering, revealing its rider seated upon its back.
My mouth ran dry, and I could feel every desperate thump of my heart. After so many years...centuries...
The Witch-King of Angmar.
At the feet of the beast lay an unmoving body, and I recognised the gold detailing and red tunic of Théoden. My eyes widened.
But it was who stood before him that truly made my heart drop.
There, standing face to face with the blood-thirsty demon who had caused so much suffering and death was a single maiden, golden locks flowing from beneath her helmet, wielding nothing but a sword and a wooden shield.
Éowyn.