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"Éowyn, Cyne!" Théoden's voice sounded from behind me as I charged passed him, "Lead the people to Helm's Deep! And make haste!"
"I can fight!" I heard Éowyn shout in response.
"No, you must do this, for me!" Théoden cracked his steed's reigns, shooting off beside me.
I chanced one more glance over my shoulder, finding that Cyne and Éowyn had been provided with another horse, and were rallying the people to follow them on. I swivelled back around to face the onslaught of Warg-riders.
"Follow me!" Théoden ordered the remaining riders.
A cacophony of sounds echoed over the lands, the thundering of Warg paws and horse hooves like a landslide, the alarmed screams of the hysterical people, the snarling Warg-riders, and the chimes of swords against swords. Éowyn and Cyne's voices carried over the sounds of battle, as they frantically herded the people in the other direction.
But as soon as I became immersed in the battle, all these noises faded from mind. I zeroed in on an advancing rider, his snarling and slimy black face bearing the stark-white hand of Saruman.
He raised his jagged blade, his cracked lips turning up into a sick grin. I parried his clumsy blow, and he growled, turning his Warg so that he was charging at me again. I ducked out of the way of his blade, swinging my own steed around and impaling the Warg-rider with my blade. The Warg snapped at my horse, who reared in fright. I dug out one of my throwing knives, whipping it in the Warg's direction. It planted itself into the Warg's scull, and the beast gave a drawn-out shriek, before collapsing, dead.
Arrows flew over head, sinking into the flesh of our enemies and downing them with a precision that could only belong to Legolas. The flags of Rohan whipped in the wind as the riders threw their spears and swung their blades. Gimli's bore his axe high, swinging it down upon unsuspecting Warg-riders with a deadly force. I'd lost sight of Aragorn. Legolas, who remained without a horse, spotted Gimli amongst the riders, and swung himself up and onto Gimli's steed.
I turned my horse back around to face the coming Wargs, my eyes raking the tumult of battle for Aragorn. Blackened and crooked arrows were let loose from the enemies side, striking down our own. But no as fast as we downed them. I cut passed three more riders with ease, utilizing both my broad-sword and my throwing-knives as I'd done before.
Soon it became painstakingly clear that the Warg's were a greater problem than their riders. They tore at Rohan's steeds, downing their riders and leaving them helpless on the ground. I did all that I could to evade this, leading my horse with practices skill through the labyrinth of fighters, and thanking Varda I'd been forced into riding lessons as a child.
My eyes continued to scan the crowd, becoming more and more frantic the longer I failed to spot Aragorn amongst the battle. With a sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach, I lowered my hunt towards the ground, searching through the corpses with my eyes. They were an even mix of enemy and ally, Warg and horse. I didn't see Aragorn among them.
I turned my horse back around as I slashed the throat of a brutish looking orc, whose Warg was impaled from behind by one of our own. I nodded my head in thanks.
Then, my eyes narrowed in on Gimli, who stood solitary on the ground, his axe raised high at a charging and riderless Warg.
"Gimli!" I called frantically, cracking my horse's reins.
"Bring your pretty face to my axe!" he called daringly, as the Warg charged.
I silently willed my horse to go faster as I focused on nothing but rescuing my friend from the grips of death. I was so focused, in fact, that I failed to notice another Warg, charging on my right flank. It struck my horse, sending me plumetting to the ground. The force of impact knocked the wind out of my lungs and I struggled to suck air back into them. My horse gave a defeated neigh as the Warg tumbled over it, before sinking its teeth into my steed's neck.
I winced, pushing myself to my feet.
My sword had been lost during the fall, and I noticed it planted in the earth some feet away. But before I could break for it, a growl tore my attention towards the Warg that had downed my horse. It's mangled face looked as though it had been ran through with a cleaver, and yet had somehow miraculously survived.
I chanced a split-second glance towards Gimli, who'd been saved at the last moment by Legolas, who dragged him back up onto their shared horse. Neither had noticed my fall.
I turned back to the advancing Warg, who snarled maliciously at me. I felt a gust of wind rush up behind me, and I turned just in time to see a charging Warg-rider, his blade poised to strike. I rolled out of the way without a moment to spare, before striking the rider in the back with a throwing knife. The Warg it was riding continued on ahead, plowing through the growing pile of corpses in its way.
I turned back ahead of me to find the Warg was kneeling, preparing to pounce. I took a cautious backwards step. And like lightning, it flew forwards, saliva flying from its snarling face as it barked viciously at me. I attempt to duck out of the way, but felt its claws sink into my arm. I cried out in pain, clasping my bleeding wound and frantically extricating my dagger. I drove it into the bottom of the Warg skull, just as it was rearing up to attack me again.
It's body collapsed on top of my, pinning me to the ground. My vision became a hazy mess as I attempted to pull myself out from beneath it.
Then everything fell away, emotion, feeling, pain, the sounds of battle. It was gone.
A voice like fire tore through my skull, and a vision of an eye, a flaming tear in the inky-black darkness, wedged into my mind. I bit back a scream. Not now. This couldn't happen now, not mid-battle.
"You will succumb to my power, Mor-yendë, you are weak willed, but your powers are strong. They will aid in the destruction of all you hold dear," it taunted, the eye of flame unblinking, "Your friends, your family, the one you love. Your home. Everything."
A pause ensued, one so quiet it was defening, the darkness so dark it was smothering, the air around me so hot it was freezing.
"You will serve as my slave, your powers will be mine to brandish," it drawled on, "To strike down even the most powerful of those that dwell in this Middle Earth. Galadriel, Gandalf the White, Elrond. They will all fall to your powers. To my powers. You will be the key to decide upon the favour of war. My key. You are a weapon of evil. You will fall. You will fall to me."
With that, the eye and its unsettling voice vanished, to be replaced by a searing pain on the side of my face. I clamped my teeth down in shock, drawing blood inside my mouth. It was as though white-hot metal was scraping into the side of my face. I attempted to move my hand, to clamp it over the searing pain, but found I was pinned down, and unable to move.
Then, little by little, the battle returned to me. The clang of clashing blades, the screams of Rohan's riders, the snarls of the Wargs and their riders, the thundering of feet over the earth. The Warg's corpse was heavy and hot, keeping me pinned against the ground. Blood from the wound I'd inflicted upon it dripped down onto my exposed skin, my face and neck, and my free hand. When the blood touched the side of my face that had burned like hellfire only moments ago, it stung harshly. Hot blood pooled in my mouth from where I'd clamped down on it, mid-vision.
My vision was still hazy, but I fought to push the Warg corpse off of me. Suddenly, the load became much lighter as a pair of hands appeared around the Warg's skull, helping me to pull it off. I met the stern eyes of King Théoden, who struggled to catch his breath after the exertion. He offered me a nod, before swinging himself back onto his horse, and extending a hand for me to follow.
"Behind you!" I screamed, and he turned just in time to piece a riderless Warg through the skull with his own sword.
"Go, I'm alright on my own, your people need you! You must fight!" I ordered stubbornly.
"Elena, get on the horse!" he shot back.
"Théoden, go! I'll only slow you down!" I said, extricating my sword from where it was buried, before turning back to him, "Go!"
With a reluctant crack of his horse's reins, Théoden disappeared into battle once more.
My attention was jerked to my right, where a man had been thrown from his horse by a Warg, and stabbed thereafter with its rider's sword. I winced. Then, with a jolt, I realized I hadn't yet managed to locate Aragorn. My ankle and ribs were throbbing from my fall, my arm was burning from the Warg's claws, my face was stinging from the blood over top of what I could only assume was another rune. But I pushed all of these things out of mind. I had to find him. I had to make sure that he was alright. I had to.
I whipped my head around frantically, scanning the steeds flying passed me in a flurry, and the corpses that littered the ground. No luck.
A throaty growl sounded from behind me and my heart froze as I met the seething eyes of yet another Warg, this one with a rider mounted on its back.
The orc cackled at my helpless state, willing the Warg forward and positioning his blade to run me through. I took a back step, preparing myself to duck out of the way, but instead tripped over the outstretched leg of a horse. I stumbled backwards, attempting to maintain my footing. The Warg grew closer. He was going too fast. There wouldn't be enough time, and I couldn't down the both of them at once. I was going to die by either this Warg or its rider.
Still, I resolutely raised my blade, aiming for the Warg, reasoning that I could perhaps down the orc with his Warg. But in my heart, I knew it was hopeless.
I found myself in my final moments wondering what had happened to Aragorn.
My wondering was cut short, however, when a strong arm hooked around my waist, hauling me off of my feet. I was pulled onto the back of a horse, my feet hanging over the side. I wrapped my arm around the rider in front of me, trying not to lose my balance on the steed as it turned sharply to evade the Warg-rider that had almost proved my undoing.
When we were out of its way, I at last focused my attention on the man who'd rescued me, and my stomach gave a lurch. Aragorn. He was safe.
I did not refrain from hugging him from behind, burying my face into the back of his shoulder.
"There will be time for you displays of gratitude, afterwards," he said teasingly, "But now we've a battle to fight."
I nodded, pulling away from him, and swinging my leg over so that I sat properly. I positioned my sword so that I could cover Aragorn's right flank, while he manned the left. The Wargs seemed to be thinning out somewhat.
"Coming up on your side!" I called to Aragorn, after noticing up ahead that an orc was directing its Warg towards us.
Aragorn swung at it with his blade. With a lurch, he was dragged off of the horse, and onto the back of the Warg behind the orc. I noticed the sharp indent in the orc's blade that had apparently served as a hook, latching on to Aragorn's sword and pulling him from his stallion. I took up the reins, giving them a harsh crack as I attempted to match the Warg's pace.
Aragorn stabbed the orc from behind and threw him from the Warg. This upset the beast to no ends, and he snapped and snarled at Aragorn, swivelling his head so as to not pay attention to where to was headed. But I saw the large cliff it was splitting towards. And my heart rate accelerated.
"Aragorn!" I sheathed my blade, leaning to the side and reaching for his arm, my bone-white knuckles gripping the reins so that I did not fall.
My horse veered to the side at this, and the Warg attempted to snap at me. I hastily retracted my hand. Another Warg suddenly came in between us, and I steered my horse back to the side, still matching Aragorn's pace. I extricated my dirk from its sheath, planting it into the orc's skull. The Warg tripped over its rider, falling away at my side. The Warg that carried Aragorn stumbled, and Aragorn was lurched into the air, barely managing to hold on to the Warg with only a single hand. The Warg continued to run, biting and snapping at Aragorn, who was being dragged violently and relentlessly over carcasses and the hard earth below him.
It was now impossible for me to reach him, and the cliff grew ever nearer. Aragorn had at last awoken to the threat of the cliff, and attempted to break free of the Warg. I noticed, however, that his vambrace was caught in one of the loops in the Warg's saddle. He tried frantically to free himself, as I raked my mind for a plan. Anything.
I couldn't very well down the creature, it's acceleration would cause it to plummet down the hill whether or not I stopped it now. It was going over the cliff, and Aragorn was going with it. That much was certain. But I couldn't let it happen.
My eyes flicked to my reins, and an idea formed in my mind. A half-baked one with a narrow chance of success. But an idea. One I was willing to chance. I pulled out my broadsword, slicing the reins from my horse so that they formed a long rope.
"Aragorn!" I called, tossing him the length of leather makeshift rope.
He took it, wrapping it around his free hand. I did the same with my end, and sent a silent prayer to Varda. Please, I begged, let it work.
The Warg didn't notice the cliff's edge until far too late, and though he tried to skid to a stop using his claws, he went over all the same. My stomach lurched as Aragorn went over too. Our horse, as loyal as he was, stubbornly refused to go over the cliff, and planted his hooves firmly into the ground a few feet before the drop. He pushed dirt up with his hooves, slowing himself to a stop just short of the edge.
The reins were pulled taught as they reached their maximum length, and I was jarred forwards by the force. The horse whinnied, rearing back. I slipped off its back, still holding tight to the reins.
And with that, the weight of Aragorn and the Warg pulled me over the cliff with them, sending the three of us careening over the cliff, and into the misty and cavernous trenches below.
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