Chapter 10
Conquering Fear
We ride for Mordor, and the silence of the Men is grave. They know not of the plan. But they had triumphed, and now they trust Aragorn-Elessar, in the absence of their Steward, who fell.
The Steward's remaining son Faramir, brother of Boromir, who died saving two halflings, had recognized Aragorn, when he awoke, and called him his king. I knew than that he would not hold greedily to power as his father did and do instead what is right. He remained in the City, to oversee its recovery.
Thranduil and his son rides with us. Gimli rides with Legolas, and I know that if an elf and a dwarf could form friendship, than what is impossible? Aragorn rides dressed, for once, in the garb of a prince soon to be king, a cape swings from his shoulders, his armour is covered with black leather, bearing the White Tree of Gondor. The Time of the King has returned.
The Black Gates of Mordor loom forth. I fear them not. The Elves join us. My people. The Army of Gondor, and even of Rohan who saw the host at Helm's Deep are amazed. Few have ever thought to see elves whom they speak as creatures of legend, yet so many have come. Elrond is there with his wife's parents and his sons, Elladan and Elrohir. They had not succumbed to the sickness of Mordor. My uncle is there also. I ride out to meet them.
"Your timing is perfect." I state to the leaders, "I now hope that all goes well and according to plan. But that is for Eru All-Father to decide."
Galadriel-Artanis smiles. Celeborn bows his head. Elrond gazes for once with hope. As I turn, my captain says, "An emissary from Mordor is at the Black Gates, My Queen, Aragorn-Elessar asks that you may come with them." I nod.
"Go, " Artanis says, " We shall be here, waiting for your signal to move forth."
I ride off. Aragorn, Eomer, Gandalf, Legolas and Gimli are already there, with two halflings, friends of those who marched into Mordor. When I meet them, we halt in front of the Gates and Aragorn shouts, "Let the Lord of the Black Land come forth! Let justice be done upon him!" He masked the real reason for our gathering here. The Gates open slightly and a lone figure rides out, slowly, as if on a lame horse. He draws closer, his horse weighed down in armour, clothed in black armour and his head covered entirely by a helm of black iron, covered with a hood. I wondered how he could see us, when his eyes were covered. If only his mouth were. His helmet opened to admit only that, and it was foul. Larger than it should be and its teeth were long, sharp and diseased, yellow, and black covered with filth and with blood running down from its gums.
"My master, Sauron the Great bids thee welcome."His voice is a deep rasp. His tongue the colour of an open wound, otherwise his mouth was black with filth. I manage not to cringe in disgust at its filth. He cocks his head to one side, like an animal. We were silent. What words must we waste on one who is to be destroyed? "Is there any that surround with authority to come to treat with me?"
"We do not come to treat with Sauron," Gandalf retorted, "faithless and accursed." The emissary turns to him and bares his foul teeth. "Tell your master this; the armies of Mordor must disband, he is to depart these lands, never to return." The figure guffaws, his massive tongue lolling out, now a ghastly pink. Disgusting. "Old Grey beard." He crooned as if to a child. Then he gasps with mock surprise, his foul mouth gaping and says, "I have a token I was bidden to show thee..." From the folds of his clothes he flings something ouut, and holds it. It is a shirt of sparkling mithril mail, for armour beneath clothing, although small. My companions are shocked into stillness. One of the halflings, in the plate of Gondor, breathes, "Frodo," and the emissary guffaws and tosses the shirt to Gandalf who catches it. "Frodo!" The halfling exclaims. The emissary gasps, laughing. "Silence." Gandalf tells the halfling. "No!" Cries another halfling, from behind Eomer, dressed in Rohan's garb.
Gandalf repeats the command desperately. The emissary says, "The halfling was dear to thee, I see. Know that he suffered greatly at the hands of his host. Who would have thought that one so small could endure so much..Pain? And he did, Gandalf, he did." Tears were at Gandalf's eyes. The emissary guffaws. Aragorn rides forward. The emissary turns. "And who is this? Isildur's heir? It takes more to make a king than a broken elvish blade." Aragorn draws the sword and with a cry, the emissary's head is sliced cleanly, perhaps the only cleanliness about him. "I guess that concludes negotiations." Gimli mutters. "I do not believe it." Aragorn looks at us each. "I will not."
"No," I agree, "for indeed treachery and deceit are Sauron's ways now. We must go forth. Remember hope has been renewed, Eru will not let it fall. A small bump of good may yet topple a great evil." I look up towards the gates. We ride back. The Gates are slowly opening. I ride to the elven host, nodding. They move forward, the leaders at the front, Artanis is in armour, for once. I turn to the elves, seeming to look at them each. "Children of Illuvatar!" I cry. "Now we go forth, now we fight for the lives of all on Middle-Earth!" I speak in Sindarin. " I call you children of Illuvatar, for you are as such! As are we all. Forget your differences, for in this day, it matters not. We fight for the world, we shall die alongside one another, no matter how different, we shall fight and defend each other, now we unite. All things are possible. Remember, I despaired as well, seeing the hosts of Mordor and suffering the past. I have felt dread and terror alongside pain. Why did I fight? For Arda, and for I have never left hope." Now I gaze firmly upon them. "Now remember Sauron's defeats at Minas Tirith and the battles that we won. It is possible. Eru has decreed it. I shall go alone to fight alongside Mortals more vulnerable than we, more like to die, if I must, for you. Yet, you trusted me to unite, and Elessar of Gondor, amongst others trusted me with this plan. He believed the same. If mortals, who shall never be remade, are willing to die for the Earth, and we are not, why does Eru gift us with power, strength, immortality? You who survived are meant to fight this day. Brood not on the past, fight for the future. This world is meant to linger, as are you! If you believe it not, why have we survived?" I turn to the Gates and draw my sword, elves and mortals readied their weapons.
"I fight not for a Ring. I fight for Middle-Earth. Objects, no matter what beauty and power, will never equal to me the lives and futures of others." As I spoke I thought of Thorin Oakenshield. "Beware the Arkenstone." I whispered to him. "For have not your grandfather acted strangely after acquiring it? Has not Smaug come soon after its discovery? Beware the dragon sickness." "It is the heirloom of my throne," he whispered. I shook my head. "The treasures of the past are not worth the lives of the future." He failed to remember and died in regret of tresuring gold and glory. "I will not live to regret." I say, and when Mordor's orcs and trolls march forth, we advance.
***
We fight. Archers rained arrows upon arrows on the foul creatures of Mordor. I saw Legolas, slay an troll with amazing skill and speed. Aragorn falls, but he rises. Galadriel, who destroyed Dol Guldur, with Nenya is incredible. I fight swiftly, slicing through hard flesh and strong bone, with the movements trained by my father, called the deadliest warrior that ever lived. His sword was an arc of death to the creatures of darkness and he was as lighning to doom them. After his torment in Angband he had grown swifter, stronger, more dangerous. As have I.
I cut them all down. A troll hovers near, it shall fall. It did. Screeches fill the air, the knights and riders scream and clutch their ears. I pause. This was the sound of fear. The Ringwraiths used it to immobilise. I gaze upwards. There up on great winged beasts, hooded shapes of what was once Men. The Witch-King is slain, by the hand of Eomer's sister. Eight remain, Khamul is their lead. No man could kill them, someone told me. No man. I was an elf and female.
What have I to fear? The past is gone, I can never undo it. I have naught to lose. Only the lives of those present here and Arda. I fear not death. Nor torment. I have faced pain and fear and found hope. My plans had worked. My great desire overcame my fear of anything.
I run forward.There is a cliff, I run past forces on either side, who stop in bemusement, turning to me. I grab hold of the rocks, I climb gracefully up, and when a ringwraith flies close, I grab the saddle-belt and swing myself up.
The ringwraith is surprised to see me. I lunge forward, grabbing his cloak, stabbing his face with a knife I had drawn, removing my hand before it immobilises me. I grab the reins and push the withering armour out of the way. I drive the winged beast to the nearest winged creature, forcing it to be slain by its own kind and jumping onto the other, drawing my sword. The ringwraith screeches. I was not afraid. Why should I fear? I deflect his blow, twisting my sword around his and flinging it from his grasp. It falls below, and I lunge for his face, quickly drawing my sword free. He is destroyed. I take the reins and force the beast unto the cliffside. It breaks its skull upon the rocks. I slide off his tail and jump, landing gracefully below, whereupon I cut down several of Sauron's minions- and crushed another.Then suddenly, the ringwraiths leave, and the gaze of Sauron's eye in his tower turns towards Mount Doom. What has happened?
Now he knows and we have little time. I pray to the Valar. I pray to Eru.
Screeches come, but they are not ringwraiths, I gaze upwards and briefly saw a moonmoth flutter away. Then a gigantic eagle lunges, tearing its talons at a winged beast, slaying its wraith. More eagles came. The Eagles of Manwe King of the Ainur. Never had I seen so many. They were slaying the wraiths. I turn and shout to the Elves. "See! The Ainur and the All-Father is with us! They will not let us fail!" They cheer loudly and I gesture to advance.
In the midst of the fighting Sauron's eye freezes, as if immobilised. It bursts further into flame, not the kind of which it is made, but destroys it, then the mountain rumbles and the Tower of Sauron's eye falls, colloasping on itself. I gesture for us to retreat. "Go back past the Gates!" They hurriedly do so, and I see the Men do the same, for then when Sauron's tower collaspes, a wave of shock rushes through the land. The land then sinks and while the creatures if Darkness try to flee, they fail and fall with it. I knew then what had happened. It was over. The Ring was destroyed.
Above left to right: The Eye of Sauron, Ringwraiths destroyed by Mount Doom, and the One Ring. Above Left: Elven Archers ready. Above Right: Elrond shouts a command. Bottom: Thorondor, King of the Eagles of Manwe- and the largest.
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