I breathe... taking in the fresh air that blows from the leaves of the aspen trees that surround the palace. This is it. I might not live to see any more beauty in this world or my own. I am scared... but in a way I am not. I know what I must do. I fight not because I hate what is ahead, but love what is behind; what I protect. Just as Legolas had said. And he is right. I know that now.
In just a few days the sparks of the fire will start and it will either blow down the ash lands of Mordor or I will die in it.
I pick up the royal, Rivendell armor that was made especially for me, golden metal that is as light as a feather but as strong as dragon scales, in my arms. The cuirass is plain, but shaped to fit my figure, short sleeved cut, with a scaled skirt that is split down the middle, and I high collar. Black leather pants and gold boots that cover my knee cap as well. With a thin chainmail long sleeved shirt that I wear under the cuirass, and metal gauntlets.
My hair is in its usual style Nin always did with me; the four braids do with most of my hair falling in waves down my back.
I walk from my room and down to the courtyard, hearing no voices in the silver city. It is completely vacant... Even the Sword of Elendil is gone...
I meet Legolas on the stone platform as he holds the reins of my dragon. But my jaw drops when I see what the beast is dressed in. Armor made by the elves; dark silver armor that covers his head and scales down his neck. It covers also his feet and claws, making them twice at deadly.
I wear just what I got from Mirkwood and stuff my new armor into the side pack of the saddle.
I turn my head to Legolas who stands at my side after Morier is ready. He returns my serious gaze.
"To war," I say.
"Amin khiluva lle a' gurtha ar' thar," he responds nobly. (I will follow you to death and beyond)
I smile and take his hand into mine
Together we mount the dragon and his wings extend into the calm air. "...To the sky," I finally say.
"Asca melloneamin," Legolas commands and Morier leaps up into the wind, banking, and heading for the MistyMountains.
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The journey is long... and quiet. The two of us grow nervous and serious. This war is real and might take one of us... and we know that.
It is five days before we come over the peak of the mountains that border both Rohan and Gondor... There at the end of the range of peaks we see the white kingdom of Minas Tirith... the king's city, carved from great stones and made with six tiers, fifty times the size of Helm's Deep, with a great tower at the center that reaches out like a needle of a compass, cutting all the other tiers and stopping at the top, with the palace of the king resting on it.
It's incredible. Though what captures my attention is the massive army of orcs, goblins, trolls, siege weapons, and other things... There has to be at least hundreds of thousands if not millions... It is an army here to end us all... and they just might succeed. They looks like mere dots of enemy formed in large squares that stand beneath the city, filling Pelennor Fields with black soldiers that stomp and bang drums, with battle cries of nasty mutant beings.
From here I can see the borders of Mordor... Far to the east. A black mountain range with a volcano spewing lava every second, keeping the skies overhead filled with ash and dust.
We circle around to the top tier and make a landing on the overlook where we see Gandalf and Pippin.
Morier roars, thrusting his wings back and forth, blowing the two friends' hair and clothes about them as the dragon's feet touch the stone floor.
Young Pippin looks a bit frightened by the beast as it folds its wings back in.
Legolas hops off swiftly and so do I, not even bothering to keep he reins. Gandalf and Pippin approach us, the halfling having to run to keep up with the wizard.
"How is the city?" I ask.
"She's been better," Gandalf huffs. "The orcs are almost close enough to fling stones at the walls."
"Are we close enough to use archers?"
"Not yet."
I look back at my dragon. "From the edge, Morier." I turn to the wizard. "I'm going to get changed." I slip my hands into the saddle bag that is now to the left of me and pull out my armor, running into the palace to look for a quick vacant room. I throw open the doors and walk into the white marble floor, black pillars of the same substance around the room.
I dash into an empty room with a door and rip off my clothes quickly, a chair held against the knob to keep it shut. I slip into my black leather, long sleeved undershirt, gloves, and trousers. Then I strap on my metal boots and gauntlets. I put on the torso cover with the built in chain mail sleeves and shoulder plates, the scaled skirt falling to halfway to my knee.
I step out into the light that seeps through the dark clouds overhead and make my way to my dragon and to the edge of the arrowhead shaped top tier. I see Legolas there, now wearing a buckled leather cuirass and his shoulder guards, his weapons now strapped to his back.
I approach him. "Help me with this?" I ask as I turn around and pull my hair in front, revealing the unlaced back of my torso guard.
I feel him take the elven rope and begin to thread it through the holes from the bottom up, pulling it tight at each couple loops.
"Thank you," I breathe.
"It is my pleasure," he responds sweetly.
Just then we hear men shouting behind us. I look to the center of the tier, a circular garden of only grass and one white tree; a dead tree, to where men dressed in silver armor bring a soldier with two arrows pierced in his stomach and shoulder.
I see an older man with dark grey hair come from the palace wearing expensive black robes. He sprints to where they stand crying, "Faramir!" He falls at his knees by the soldier. "Say not that he has fallen," he mutters.
"They were outnumbered," a man with blonde hair wearing the same kind of robes over his armor says, who delivered the soldier. "None survived."
I feel the pressure leave my neck as my elf finishes tying the knot on the armor. I walk forward with him to see what happened.
The grey haired man stands up and tries not to weep angrily, his mouth turned down with his wrinkles, as he backs from the body. "My sons are spent," he moans. "My line has ended..." He walks tot the edge of the overlook.
I look towards the ground when I see young Peregrin running out to the wounded man and kneeling by him. "He's alive," he mumbles under his breath.
"The house of stewards has failed," the man continues. Oh so this is the crackhead in charge of this place. Gandalf had said his name was Denethor. And he works only as he steward of Gondor, along with his father and grandfather before him since there hasn't been a king in some time.
"He needs medicine, my lord," Pippin says.
"My line has ended!" Denethor ignores the hobbit.
"My lord!" he calls.
I run forward to the hobbit and Faramir. If this is he steward's son then we need him. We can't let him die, especially since young Pip seems to be very concerned, probably close to the red haired man.
I get down to observe where the man got hit. The arrow beneath his shoulder looks somewhat deep but if it is attended to now, we can save him. I look up at some of the surrounding soldiers. "You, go get a wet towel and bandages. Pippin get the medicine." Each of them nod and run to do so, not because they wish to obey me but because they care for the Captain of Gondor. "Legolas come here."
He rushes to my side and gets down close to me as I unbuckle the man's armor. He helps me pull it off revealing that the stomach arrow had not stuck into his flesh but pierced the armor. But I have to yank out the other one from his shoulder after we remove his shirt. As I clean the hood from the wound after the soldier returns, Legolas uses what he knows of Elvish healing on the man while hearing the steward ramble on about fleeing and lost hope without seize. Pip returns with the medicine and we also bind the wounds tightly with the bandages.
The complaining stops.
I whirl around when I hear a thud behind me. Denethor lies crookedly on the ground in front of the overlook and Gandalf stands above him with his staff at hand. He looks to the soldiers that stand around on the courtyard. "Prepare for battle!" the wizard says with power.
They take Faramir to the houses of healing for recovery and I follow Gandalf as he rides his white stallion bareback down the tiers, shouting commands to the soldiers that had wondered from where they should have been thanks to Denethor who had no order and no means to fight against the orcs to protect his people.
"Hurry men!" Gandalf calls. "To the wall! Defend the wall!" He flies past the men and the women and children in the streets. "Return to your posts!"
"Take the women and children beneath the city!" I shout as I catch up to him.
Gandalf stops his horse by the wall, overlooking the sea of enemies. "Send these foul beasts into the abyss!" He says.
Something moves to the right of me and I look to see a large stone fly from the crowd of demons and hit a white tower, breaking pieces off it and sending silver rocks into the groups of men beneath it.
My head turns to see Legolas helping a family get under the city.
"Gandalf!" I say over the noise.
His head turns and he looks at me.
"If we cannot yet dispatch archers you should get these men away from the outer wall!"
Just then a huge rock slams against the wall not too far from me and I flinch, gasping. I look back at the wizard. "They are just standing targets! We need every soldier we can get!"
He hesitates. "Get back! Get back from the wall!" His horse gallops past the men and they back up to escape the range of fire.
"And start loading these catapults!" I call. "I want to see these orcs suffer! Show them that men can easily outsmart them!"
A group of men pick up a huge stone from the ground and carry it to our weapons. They load it into the wooden machine and I examine it. "Angle it to the left!" I say and they do so. "Fire!"
They crank down the lever and release the chunk of stone into the crowd of monsters. I watch it tear apart one of their catapults, sending the wooden pieces into the air.
Legolas is now at my side with a flash. "Counter attack?" he asks
"Barely. I feel it's contradictory to throw back parts of your own fortress," I respond.
Just then I see something whirling towards my head.
"Watch out!" hear and I am thrown to the ground, my arms hitting the concrete along with my knees. I gasp and look up as our weapon is shattered in wooden pieces and the men had jumped back to avoid getting crushed by the rock that the enemy had fired and broken the wall with it where we stood.
I feel a hand at my waist. Legolas was the one who had thrown me from the danger.
"I've had enough of this," I say and stand up. "Can you take care of this?" I ask him.
He nods.
"I'll be right back." I turn and as I run back up the steps I hear Legolas command, "Keep reloading! Aim for the siege weapons!"
I fly up the steps and past citizens that are still guided to safety. Some soldiers look my way when I pass.
I get to the top tier once again I run to my dragon and leap onto his back. Sending him up into the air as I pull out my bow. He thrusts into the clouds as I hold on tightly. But just then he begins to slow down and then heads towards he ground in an epic plummet, roaring with fury as I unleash a battle cry as well. I send my arrow flying through the neck of the commanding orc with a mutated eye.
My dragon cries out in rage as we swoop down into the army and strike terror into the hearts of the demons, grabbing a catapult on our way through and launching it into the black fields, crushing a group of goblins.
I want to aim my arrows at the trolls but they would just bounce off their skin.
I shoot past a stone fired from our wall that breaks apart a siege tower, sending pieces of wood and orc into the air.
I was right to leave Legolas in charge of the projectiles. He has an amazing aim.
I make sure to keep a fast speed as we soar through the battle field, arrows flying past us. Orcs have awful hand-eye coordination.
I land on a siege tower, clutching the reins tightly to keep from falling off. Morier roars loudly into the wind, his claws tearing at the piece of machinery with fury, flapping his wings and pulling the tower completely apart. But we have stayed I one spot for too long. "Kela asca, Morier," I command and he charges through the tower, chunks of wood flying past my head.
I look back at the pieces that were once a siege tower.
Morier and I soar over the clusters of orcs below that hold spears and numerous other weapons, awaiting their turn to charge for the great walls.
We bank left as they see us overhead. Luckily most of them think I am a nazgul.
Until I notch an arrow and pull back, watching them fly by beneath us, an army of dirty, black, blood thirsty demons. I let my arrow spring from my bow and sink into the neck of an orc ahead, Morier letting out a roar when I do.
I get lower and let him scrape up some of their heads with his huge armored claws when he brings his wings inwards.
I clutch onto his ropes tightly as I bend close to him, his mighty teeth grabbing an orc out of the dark ocean.
I pull on the reins, sending us up as arrows whiz past us. I head back to the city, another stone from our walls flying into a catapult of the enemy, crushing orcs behind it with a heavy roll.
I look below me to see they are nearing the gates of the bottom tier and my assumption is confirmed. They swarm like man eating insects for the great wall.
I head up to where Gandalf is and land there, hopping off onto the white stone and walking to him. "They are close. Dispatch the archers to the lower walls," I tell him.
"And what about this army?" He asks. "You came back alone."
"I travel faster than them. Our guests have not yet arrived..." My head turns to the right as I hear gates open from under us. "But something tells me that's them."
He frowns.
I turn and run down the steps to the undercity to meet the scouts from Rhûn that came through the mountain pass into the city. One of them, rather rugged looking with long brown hair and this beard walks up to me with his hood of his black leather armor up. "Miss Vilora, I presume."
"Indeed," I respond. "You and your men are most welcome."
He bows.
"Up to the walls. Hurry. Send out just the bowmen to the bottom walls. The other scouts stay here."
He turns to his men. "Do as she says, let's go."
We travel up through the stairways and to the walls. I run to where we need to be. And I see men archers already filling up the top of the walls. I hurry over to where Legolas fires, not missing a single shot. But he calls for the men to the left of him to get back and just then a rock is flung onto the walls, breaking stone and sending men back against the ground.
I look down at the catapult that flings stones our direction still. The men are in formation now and are firing arrows down at the wave of orcs, taking out a good number but nothing compared to what lies ahead in the fields.
I notch an arrow and start shooting down there, killing the demons with no mercy. The catapult fires at us again some ways down...
But I hear a roaring in the air as a winged beast flies over and destroys the weapon with a crash through it in lightning speed, creating an explosion of metal and wood.
I smile and look down at the evil sea beneath the walls. "Do you think this is every orc in Mordor?" I ask my elf beside me.
"Not even close, darling," he responds.
I swallow.
My attention is turned to the siege tower inching to the walls to the right, being pushed by two massive gate trolls. "Incoming!" I warn the others and charge to where it approaches. "Fire arrows!" I call as I place my hand on a soldier's armor to move past him and through the crowd around the wall. "Bring it down!"
"Archers!" I hear Gandalf call. "Aim for the trolls! Kill the trolls!"
They try to do so but their skin is too thick. I run and grab a torch off the wall, waiting for the door of it to open and when it does, I thrust the thing into it, starting a fire as the tower burns down. But orcs lunge from it and onto the walls. I pull out my sword and run forward, slicing the stomach of a disoriented one and turning around as the other stands up. I swing my blade down but he blocks it, a nasty roars from his rotten teeth and slime covered mouth. I cry out and punch the beast in the nose. Spinning around and stabbing him in the ribs.
I yank my blade from the orc, slinging black blood onto the white stone.
Just then a shadow is cast over my head. I look to the skies to see fell beasts, with their riders in black filling the air with terror. All nine of them are here, sending horrific screams that break your ears and send chills down your spine.
They fly about, scraping off our men from the walls and dropping them from great elevations.
"Hold them back!" Gandalf says. "Do not give in to fear! Stand to your posts! Fight!"
Legolas draws back the string of his bow and fires a mighty arrow, flying into the chest of one if the dragons and it squealing in pain.
"Nice shot," I say.
"He is coming back," he says.
The black winged demon flies at us. I get my sword ready to take on the beast without hesitation. But he does a turn last minute, catching my torso with its great claws and pinning me to the ground with a thud against the white rock, knocking my sword from me, my back hitting the stone and making me gasp.
I stare down into the evil eyes of the fell beast as it prepares to swallow me whole, its claw clutching my chest to the ground. I don't see Morier in those eyes. I only see demonic hunger.
A knife flings into the neck of the beast and it roars, turning left to where Legolas looks determined to kill it. He holds out his other blade without fear and it snaps at him, but before it can close its teeth around the elf's head he sticks his knife into the open mouth vertically and yanks his hand back.
He pulls his other dagger from the beast's neck and leaps over him by placing a foot on its head and lunging. He stands in front if me after the animal's claw was finally removed and I could stand up again.
I hesitate, eyeing my sword on the stone as the beast flops around and dies. But then I glance at the oil bin used to light the torches and then see the nazgul walk from his monster and towards my elf slowly.
My eyes catch a flame on the leg of a demon beside me...
The dark rider screams out in anger as it readies to attack.
I quickly coat my arrow with the liquid and notch it to my string I let it touch the flames left over by the burning orc carcass and then pull back, just as it slings it's sword down, clashing it with Legolas's knife, I let my arrow fly into the empty hood, lighting its head on fire and it drops it's sword, squealing in pain.
I hold my ears to keep them from damaging from the piercing sound.
The wraith runs from us and Legolas looks to me. "Nice shot," he quotes.
I smirk and grab my sword to sheath it.
We look out at the armies that close I around the walls.
"This has only just begun..." I breathe.
He nears me. "You're not hurt are you?"
"I'm fine... We have to keep them from breaking in." I notice that they bring a battering ram towards the gates.
"Take them out!" I say and walk along behind the archers. "Take out the ones who carry the ram! Don't let them reach the gate!"
They being to crowd around the center and fire at the threatening orcs.
"We'll need your aim as well," I say to Legolas.
He nods and joins them.
I look up at the sun that has dropped below the mountains...
A slam from the small battering ram gets my attention. Then I charge to the center of the city. "Assemble at the gates! If they get in we must be ready to defend!"
"Keep fighting! You stand to defend your wives and children!" Gandalf shouts to the men.
My feet shuffle down the white stone steps. But just then something flies above us. I look up to see Morier fighting another fell beast, and winning by the looks of it. He tears at the flesh of the other monster with his teeth as the other uses its claws to grab him.
But they fly out of sight and I join the men that gather at the gates, silver armored soldiers of Gondor, and the leather armored warriors or Rhûn.
The archers stay up on the walls and I climb up to look over them as the hours pass and we start to hear chants among the orcs... "Grond," they say over and over... I gaze upon the massive battering ram pushed up by six trolls... The size of the white tower... The ram has the head of a wolf, inside the teeth are flames, and the pointy nose allows it to knock against the gate.
I swallow and join the men. We can only wait it out. The trolls are too tough to kill with arrows and if we go down there alone we will be massacred.
"Gather the archers back," I say. "We shall make a formation here. With men that bare swords in front and bowmen at the back, ready to fire as soon as they bust through."
Gandalf agrees and every soldier forms in front of the gate, to await the fate of Minas Tirith.
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