<<Flashback>>
I smiled as Aeduinn wrapped his strong arms around me, leaning in closer as if to kiss me once more, but he stopped. Opening my eyes in surprise, I tried to draw away, something deep in my soul telling me to flee. Struggling to get out of his hold, I found that it wouldn't budge.
"Oh, Genaveive," I heard Aeduinn chuckle, shivering as his hot breath fanned over my neck, "so naive and trusting."
I tried to struggle, but I found myself rooted to my spot.
"What are you doing?" I cried, unable to break out of his hold.
"What am I doing?" he said as he leaned in closer, "I am simply doing what is best... to erase Shanelor out of history.
"You swine," I growled through gritted teeth, and stamping on his foot, I drew back my elbow and smashed it into his jaw.
An ear-splitting crack was heard and as I twisted out of his grip, reaching for my sword, I wasn't able to see his treacherous foot sweep my feet from underneath me.
Seizing my sword and grabbing me by the hair, he pressed the tip of my blade to my throat.
"Wretch," he sneered, "you taught me well, and it is now that the student finally finishes the master."
Staring back in his eyes defiantly, I snarled, "You won't gain anything. Shanelor can still beat the likes of you. My father won't let you."
"Oh, but I think he will," he smirked, and pulled a glittering crystal vial that was filled with a dark substance.
Carefully unscrewing the lid, he grabbed me roughly by the throat. Gasping for breath as he squeezed my windpipe with enough pressure to almost strangle me, I felt my limbs weakening from the lack of oxygen. As I saw black dots edge across my vision, Aeduinn suddenly let go. It was then that he pursued his advantage as I sucked in breaths of needed air through my lungs. Shoving the bottle underneath my nose, I was forced to breathe in the contents. I suddenly felt dizzy as the potion rushed through my lungs. Seeing me weaken, Aeduinn slowly released his grip on me and stroking my hair, he whispered, "I want you to know Genaveive, that it is you who has done all this, and it is because of you that Shanelor will fall. May the Valar have mercy upon your soul." And that was the last thing I saw before everything spiraled into darkness...
***
I gasped, clutching my chest, slamming my back against the bed. Jolting upright, I clutched my throat, the ghost of Aeduinn's fingers gripping my windpipe in a vice. "No," I whispered, struggling to clear my head, to break off the chains of the memory. Feeling my chest throb as if stabbed with a sword, I raised myself up before my feet connected with the floor. Soundlessly, I crept from my room and out into the balcony, which overlooked the entire city. Overhead, the country of Mordor raged; a silent and deadly firestorm that was holding its breath; ready to ignite its conquest in flames of blood. Pippin and Gandalf were already there, with Gandalf smoking his pipe and Pippin examining his sword with great interest.
"Couldn't sleep?" Gandalf asked kindly, putting down his pipe.
I shook my head, my throat unable to speak for itself. Unsheathing his sword, Pippin spoke brightly, "I suppose this is just a ceremonial position. I mean, they don't expect me to do any fighting--" Pippin trailed off as Gandalf and I remained silent, not giving any assent. "You don't really mean they are going to make me fight?" Pippin asked, his eyes widened with fear.
I shook my head, my breath hitched in my chest. "You pledged yourself to the Steward, Pippin, you are going to do as you are told," I said grimly, fiddling with my hairpin.
"How are you so calm?" Pippin asked softly, his eyes downcast and despairing, "when everyone is fearful, you remain as courageous as ever."
I jolted; my posture was that of a seasoned warrior, but I was not safe from fear itself. Swallowing, I shifted my weight before answering, "No warrior is immune to fear, Pippin, especially not me."
"But how do you fight so well, and how do you, you know--" Pippin trailed off, his position screaming with anguish.
I sighed. "I fight so well because I have been trained, Pippin, but even that does not guarantee that my life will be spared. War holds no promises, Pippin, and it's no prim fairytale; where the hero lives and kills the villain. Often, they both die as a consequence. War is just survival, and it's not the fittest nor courageous that survive, but the most desperate. Do you understand now?" I asked, a trace of bitterness in my voice.
As if sensing my discomfort, Pippin clasped his hands under his chin as he leaned against the balusters, his eyes taking in the vast inferno that was Mordor. "It's so quiet," he said, his voice fragile and thin to the eruptions and chaos in the accursed land. I suddenly softened, my heart aching for unknown reasons. He was too small, too untrained, too innocent for the bloodshed about to take place.
"It is the deep breath before the plunge," Gandalf said, his voice strong and resilient, his despairing words not in tune with his powerful posture.
"But let us hope that the plunge will not be a deep one," I added morosely, the aching feeling in my chest spreading still further.
"Indeed," Gandalf answered, his face gaunt and far more grim than I had ever witnessed before.
"I don't want to be in battle," Pippin spoke suddenly, as if he was a child who yearned for his home, "but the fact that I can not escape one makes it even worse."
"Don't we all?" I asked, my face darkened in the faint light of the moon-- once so bright, now reduced to a pale sheen.
"But this time it's different," Pippin said, his voice weighed with grief, "we don't know anything! Frodo and Sam could well as be dead right now and tomorrow, we may as well be dead! All of you!" Tearing himself away, Pippin grasped the edge of a baluster tightly, his knuckles white. It was the first time he had done anything like this. Taking deep, shuddering breaths, he whispered softly, "I want to go home; to the Shire with Merry. Maybe this is just a bad dream and I will awaken in my bed."
My soul seemed to ache. He was no soldier, nor was he trained. He had walked all the way out here; faced countless perils to death, and now, he was being asked to give up his life for a slim chance that his companions could make it to Mount Doom without being killed. It was unjust, unfair, but life was seldom kind, and if he was to survive, he had not time to be coddled.
Coldly, I walked up to him, grasping him by the shoulders. "If we do not survive this fight; if we do not win this war, there will be no Shire to return to. You can sniffle and cry for all you want and watch your friends back in the Shire die, but do not, even for a second, reduce anyone else to a sniffling coward! These soldiers have enough to deal with as it is, and if I even see you spreading your doubt and simpleton obscurities to anyone else, I will guarantee that what Sauron will do to you will be a mere play compared to what I will do to you."
Pippin's anger and frustration seemed to burn through me as he cried, "Well, easy for you to say! I don't see you sending off any companions to the Orc-forsaken Mordor. I bet you don't even care what happens to Frodo and Sam!"
The words were hasty, anger-filled, and not meant, but even now, I could see Pippin's guilt flashing on his face. Feeling fury ripple inside my body, I grabbed his shoulders roughly, steeling them against the balusters; forcing him to look down at the fiery inferno that was Mordor. "You think I don't care?" I said in a low, deadly voice, "I spent six years of my life in the hell that was Mordor. Six years of my life, I festered in the prison of the Orcs; tortured, abused, and worse." Laughing bitterly, I forced his quivering eyes back down. "I fought through the Orcs, and I barely survived. If you think I do not know what trials face Frodo and Sam, then I advise you to shut your mouth and see for yourself. Despite what you think, I do care about what happens to Frodo and Sam--- I bashed myself every waking hour, reminding myself that it was my fault; that if anything happens in this quest, it is my fault! I am the one to blame; I failed to protect Frodo, Sam, Boromir... I failed them all!" Breathing heavily in pants, I felt my fists clench until they were a deathly white. "So if you even think for one moment that I do not feel any remorse, then strike me dead by all means."
Releasing him, I turned away, attempting to recollect myself before my anger caught up with me. Breaking heavily, I heard Pippin wince from me shoving him against the pillars, and say in a rattling, slow voice, "I am sorry. I didn't know...." he trailed off helplessly.
"It's fine," I cut him off coolly, my emotions in a tumbled mess of fire, "and don't worry so much, Gandalf and I will protect you to our deaths."
I heard Pippin walk away soundlessly, his face broken and crippled with guilt and fear.
Lifting my head, I said in a high voice, "Well, excuse me, gentlemen, I don't know about all of you, but I am going to try for a few hours of sleep before my potential death."
***
Alright, short update but I was really busy, so yeah... Anyways, I just wanted to clear some things up about the chapter. Some of you might think that Evelyn was too rough with Pippin, but the fact is that she does not really know much about comfort. Back when she commanded the armies of Shanelor, she had to get used to sending off even children into the battlefield, and the fact that Pippin is freaking out because of the war reminds her of those times. Also, she knows that Pippin won't be able to fend for himself that long, so she needed him to get a grip before he goes into the battlefield because one costly mistake can take lives; lives that are needed to save Gondor. And since some of you might be confused when Evelyn talks about her time in Mordor, I will explain and piece everything together. After Aeduinn took over Shanelor, he drugged Evelyn (as seen above in the story) and sent her to Mordor as a political prisoner instead of killing her like the rest of her family. She spent six years of her life in the prisons of the Orcs, who tortured her and abused her to the point of annihilation. When she finally managed to escape, she had to literally fight her way out of Mordor and barely made it out alive. (If you wonder how she made it out when she was half--dead, it was because of Thèodred saving her, and they grew pretty close together as explained in previous chapters). This is why she is angry at Pippin for suggesting that she does not know what it is like in Mordor, and she has bashed herself every waking hour because she blames herself for not being able to save everyone.
Thank you all for reading and being such awesome people and please vote or comment if you have the time. I know all of you are antsy about, "Are Legolas and Evelyn ever going to be back together?" and if, "Will Evelyn and Legolas accept each other?" and everything, but patience, young grasshoppers (I don't know why I am saying, grasshoppers), you will have to read on and the story is not over yet......