Post by Admin on Jan 3, 2021 18:20:49 GMT
Author: Calyneryn
Summary: A creature from a story in the past comes into Aragorn's sight.
Smoke hung in the air above the Pelennor Fields as the borrowed ships arrived at the docks. The fighting has already begun. I hope we’re not too late. Aragorn had known that there was a chance they would arrive at this place after the fighting started. He had after all chosen the ships of the now fallen corsairs to get to Minas Tirith without Sauron knowing he was coming here.
Looking over the side of the ship as it stopped along the dock, he almost winced. They were close enough to Minas Tirith to be able to clearly see the gates had been broken down. Smoke wafted from fires he could see within the white city, and there looked to be holes and crumbled buildings on the higher levels.
Aragorn’s eyes turned toward the Pelennor now, where he could see the Rohirrim fighting against those who assaulted the walls. Mostly orcs seemed to be in Sauron’s forces, and at first he thought this might be easier than he thought.
That was before he saw a group of creatures roaming about on the battlefield, towering above all their opponents. Grey skinned, with huge long tusks.
“What by the Valar are they?”
He did not realise he had spoken the question out loud until Elladan answered him.
“Do you remember Estel, about the creatures that we once told you about when you were small? The ones you wanted to see but couldn’t because they were so far away?”
Aragorn looked at Elladan.
“I don’t think this is a good time for a memory, Elladan.”
Elladan smiled even so.
“Perhaps not, but, still, it is part of one of them.” Elladan replied. “Oliphaunt or Mumakil they most certainly are.”
Aragorn stared at the creatures for a few moments longer, shocked that these were the creatures his foster brothers had told him about so long ago. To them, that tale would not have been long ago, but for him it seemed an age ago.
He sighed.
“Time to fight.”
“Just keep out of their direct path, Aragorn. Stick to the orcs.”
Aragorn gave Elrohir an exasperated look, but he knew that the younger twin brother was right about that idea. He had no interest in getting stepped on by one of these huge creatures.
“Oh, I will.”
And so the fighting started. The Undead forces seemed to take on more of the more dangerous fights at least, including the Oliphaunts.
At one point however, one of the massive creatures was coming toward them.
“Legolas!”
Legolas turned raising an eyebrow, before Aragorn saw that he realised what he wanted. The elf headed straight for the Mumakil coming toward them, and Aragorn knew he’d handle it better than any of them would.
Aragorn continued to fight, killing orc after orc that came within range of Anduril. The fighting would not last much longer with all the soldiers that he had brought with him.
At times he caught sight of the twins where they were fighting, but he never moved to help them, since he knew they could handle anything that came their way.
It took a little while longer, but at last, the orcs were defeated, and they were able to look across the field as the Undead swarmed into the city, to deal with the last of the orcs.
We’ve won. Minas Tirith is saved.
It seemed they had gotten here when they were most needed. That had always been the plan on the route he’d taken from Dunharrow.
His eyes searched the remaining Rohirrim he could see. Eomer he was able to spot… but there was no sign of Theoden. What has become of the king of the Rohirrim?
He sighed as he took in all the dead warriors who had come from Rohan. So many had died that day, but they had done so doing what they wanted.
“The battle’s over, Aragorn,” Elladan said when he rejoined them with Elrohir.
“The city is saved,” Elrohir added.
“Yet so many have died in its defense.”
Aragorn knew Gondor was crippled from this strike. Frodo still has the Ring, as far as we know. He needs to succeed.
Would any follow if he headed to Mordor though? Something had to be done to keep Sauron thinking about them, and not where his Ring was. Frodo needed time to get what he was doing done.
Looking at Legolas and Gimli, who was sitting on a dead orc for who knew what reason, he spoke.
“We need to find Gandalf.”
Summary: A creature from a story in the past comes into Aragorn's sight.
Smoke hung in the air above the Pelennor Fields as the borrowed ships arrived at the docks. The fighting has already begun. I hope we’re not too late. Aragorn had known that there was a chance they would arrive at this place after the fighting started. He had after all chosen the ships of the now fallen corsairs to get to Minas Tirith without Sauron knowing he was coming here.
Looking over the side of the ship as it stopped along the dock, he almost winced. They were close enough to Minas Tirith to be able to clearly see the gates had been broken down. Smoke wafted from fires he could see within the white city, and there looked to be holes and crumbled buildings on the higher levels.
Aragorn’s eyes turned toward the Pelennor now, where he could see the Rohirrim fighting against those who assaulted the walls. Mostly orcs seemed to be in Sauron’s forces, and at first he thought this might be easier than he thought.
That was before he saw a group of creatures roaming about on the battlefield, towering above all their opponents. Grey skinned, with huge long tusks.
“What by the Valar are they?”
He did not realise he had spoken the question out loud until Elladan answered him.
“Do you remember Estel, about the creatures that we once told you about when you were small? The ones you wanted to see but couldn’t because they were so far away?”
Aragorn looked at Elladan.
“I don’t think this is a good time for a memory, Elladan.”
Elladan smiled even so.
“Perhaps not, but, still, it is part of one of them.” Elladan replied. “Oliphaunt or Mumakil they most certainly are.”
Aragorn stared at the creatures for a few moments longer, shocked that these were the creatures his foster brothers had told him about so long ago. To them, that tale would not have been long ago, but for him it seemed an age ago.
He sighed.
“Time to fight.”
“Just keep out of their direct path, Aragorn. Stick to the orcs.”
Aragorn gave Elrohir an exasperated look, but he knew that the younger twin brother was right about that idea. He had no interest in getting stepped on by one of these huge creatures.
“Oh, I will.”
And so the fighting started. The Undead forces seemed to take on more of the more dangerous fights at least, including the Oliphaunts.
At one point however, one of the massive creatures was coming toward them.
“Legolas!”
Legolas turned raising an eyebrow, before Aragorn saw that he realised what he wanted. The elf headed straight for the Mumakil coming toward them, and Aragorn knew he’d handle it better than any of them would.
Aragorn continued to fight, killing orc after orc that came within range of Anduril. The fighting would not last much longer with all the soldiers that he had brought with him.
At times he caught sight of the twins where they were fighting, but he never moved to help them, since he knew they could handle anything that came their way.
It took a little while longer, but at last, the orcs were defeated, and they were able to look across the field as the Undead swarmed into the city, to deal with the last of the orcs.
We’ve won. Minas Tirith is saved.
It seemed they had gotten here when they were most needed. That had always been the plan on the route he’d taken from Dunharrow.
His eyes searched the remaining Rohirrim he could see. Eomer he was able to spot… but there was no sign of Theoden. What has become of the king of the Rohirrim?
He sighed as he took in all the dead warriors who had come from Rohan. So many had died that day, but they had done so doing what they wanted.
“The battle’s over, Aragorn,” Elladan said when he rejoined them with Elrohir.
“The city is saved,” Elrohir added.
“Yet so many have died in its defense.”
Aragorn knew Gondor was crippled from this strike. Frodo still has the Ring, as far as we know. He needs to succeed.
Would any follow if he headed to Mordor though? Something had to be done to keep Sauron thinking about them, and not where his Ring was. Frodo needed time to get what he was doing done.
Looking at Legolas and Gimli, who was sitting on a dead orc for who knew what reason, he spoke.
“We need to find Gandalf.”