𝟬𝟭𝟵 ━━ bad moon rising
˚ ₊ ♡ ❰ BALLAD OF BROKEN SWORDS ❱
*✧ ─── ❝ ❪ BAD MOON RISING ❫ ❞
⋆ 🌪. CHAPTER NINETEEN✧・゚: *✧・゚:*
˚ ₊ ♡ misty mountains: wilderness ─── act two
❝ 𝙛𝙚𝙖𝙧 𝘨𝘰𝘦𝘴 𝙬𝙝𝙚𝙧𝙚 𝘪𝘵 𝘪𝘴 𝙞𝙣𝙫𝙞𝙩𝙚𝙙 ❞
*✧ ─── CARADHRAS HAD DEFEATED THEM, AND THE DESCENT DOWN THE SNOW-RIDDEN SLOPES OF THE MOUNTAIN HAD lessened the moral of the Fellowship. Only the howling wind dares to stir noise around them. The path that had been cleared by Aragorn and Boromir was narrow, and some points already were beginning to cave in again. The Hobbits, who had been warmed by some miruvor were already shivering again, clutching their cloaks closer to their bodies.
Gyda stares ahead, in the front of the line at the landscape ahead, ears straining to pick up any noise of danger. She knows what lurks at the foot of the mountain. She and Legolas had heard it the moment they had ascended the mountain. She looks over her shoulder, catching the eyes of Legolas as he too surveys his surroundings with upmost care.
"The wind," She turns to address the Fellowship, "it howls with wolf-voices. They stalk us. They have come west of the mountains."
The four Hobbits immediately step closer together, huddled for warmth, but perhaps more so in search of safety. "What do we do?" Frodo dares question, fingers clutching the chain around his neck. "The path to Moira is west, is it not Gandalf?"
The Grey Wizard hums, "It is."
Boromir's straightens, "The wolf that one hears, is worse than the orc that one fears," He tries to encourage the Hobbits, but the mentions of Orcs has them trembling.
"True," Aragorn echoes from where he stands next to Elgarain.
"I wish I had taken Elrond's advice," mutters Pippin "I am no good after all. There is not enough of the breed of Bandobras the Bullroarer in me: these howls freeze my blood. I don't ever remember feeling so wretched."
"My heart's right down in my toes, Mr. Pippin," Sam adds. "But we aren't etten yet, and there are some stout folk here with us. Whatever may be in store for old Gandalf, I'll wager it isn't a wolf's belly."
Gyda nods at the Hobbit, trying to give him a assuring smile, "Whatever awaits us, we will face it together, as will we defeat it." She pauses glances at the others, "We must find a place to rest, continue our journey in daylight."
For their defense in the night the Company climbed to the top of the small hill under which they had been sheltering. It was crowned with a knot of old and twisted trees, about which lay a broken circle of boulder-stones. In the midst of this they lit a fire, for there was no hope that darkness and silence would keep their trail from discovery by the hunting packs.
The low embers of their fire gave them little warmth, but it had driven the deep cold from their bones. Elgarain settles next to the flames and takes out a pouch filled with leaves. Gyda recognizes them as the same herbs she always gives to wounded soldiers to calm their nerves. Though she uses far less of them this time as she adds them to the boiling water inside Sam's cooking pot.
As everyone settles down, Elgarain hands out a cup filled with the calming tea to each of them. Gyda's somewhat hesitant frown doesn't go unnoticed by her.
"It won't numb your senses," Elgarain promises. "But it will take the edge of."
"You should rest." Gyda smiles, the gratitude hidden in her words as she looks up at Elgarain.
The elven queen hums, as if she had expected such words to come from her mouth. "As should you."
Gyda shakes her head, eyes drifting to the flickering flames as she sips the hot beverage. "I've taken first watch. The wolves may have shrunk into the shadows, but they prowl still. I can hear them, I know you can hear them too—" She looks back at Elgarain, "Are you afraid?"
Elgarain inhales deeply, though her voice still trembles when she speaks. "I wish I could say I wasn't but then I'd be lying."
"You have always been one for honest truths," Gyda grins but it does not quite reach her eyes, "I'm afraid too."
"That doesn't help," Elgarain says with a small smile. "Are they really as tall as the stories say?"
"I will not lie to you, they are as tall as they are vicious."
"Then I'm glad you're with us."
Gyda's mind flashes back to Mordor, the blood, the screams. Her father. "As long as I'm with you Elgarain, no harm shall befall you." She clutches her sword pommel with one hand, the other reaching out to clasp Elgarain's shoulder.
Elgarain smiles, though her eyes hold a certain sadness. "Don't make promises you cannot keep, dear nésa."
"It's not a promise Tarinya, It is a vow." She states stoically.
"And I thank you for holding true to it," Elgarain replies seriously. "But this journey is not about me. I'm not the one you should vow to be protecting, not anymore." She gives Gyda's hand a reassuring squeeze before nodding goodbye and retreating back to the fire.
Gyda lowers her head, a small smile on her face, because she knows now, that even if she had not taken a vow, if she had not spoken those words to her father all those years ago, she still would stand beside Elgarain. Because Elgarain was indeed her sister, and Gyda had always fought for her family.
Slowly, Gyda, pushed herself up, nodding at Aragorn who had perched himself on a higher rock, gazing out at their surroundings, before climbing one of her own.
Time passes, the fire slowing dying as the others rested uneasily.
The howling of the wolves was now all round them, sometimes nearer and sometimes further off. In the dead of night many shining eyes were seen peering over the brow of the hill. Some advanced almost to the ring of stones. At a gap in the circle a great dark wolf-shape could be seen halted, gazing at them. A shuddering howl broke from him, as if he were a captain summoning his pack to the assault.
Gyda breathed in worried, hazel eyes narrowing on the tall beast. The sword in her hand felt heavy for a moment, knuckles white as she clutched the handle in anticipation. But it was Gandalf who strode forward, "Listen, Hound of Sauron!' he bellows. "Gandalf is here. Fly, if you value your foul skin! I will shrivel you from tail to snout, if you come within this ring."
The wolf snarls and springs towards them with a great leap. Gyda jumps down the rock, sword ready to strike but at that moment there was a sharp twang.
Legolas had loosed his bow. There was a hideous yell, and the leaping shape thudded to the ground; the Elvish arrow had pierced its throat.
The watching eyes were suddenly extinguished like dying candle light. Gandalf, Gyda and Aragorn strode forward, but the hill was deserted; the hunting packs had fled. All about them the darkness grew silent, and no cry came on the sighing wind.
Gyda looks back at the others, eyes landing on a worried Elgarain, but she knew her face said it all; this was not the last they had seen of the Wargs.
𝙘𝙤𝙪𝙧𝙖𝙜𝙚 𝘪𝘴 𝘧𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘥 𝘪𝘯
𝙪𝙣𝙡𝙞𝙠𝙚𝙡𝙮 𝙥𝙡𝙖𝙘𝙚𝙨
*✧ ─── j.r.r. tolkien
*✧ ─── misty mountains: wilderness
SLEEP DIDN'T COME FOR GYDA AFTER THE FIRST WARG ATTACK AN HOUR AGO. THE WISTHLING WIND STILL CARRIED A GHOST OF THE HOWLS, AND EVERY SHADOW IN THE WOODS twirled unnaturally in the pale moonlight. Only the Hobbits had managed to rest their uneasy heads, faint snores echoing across the hill. The flames warming their tired bodies and after Pippin's request, Gyda had promised to stay close by them. She felt a sense of happiness knowing they trusted her so much. That they felt safe in her presence.
The night dragged on, slowly more clouds gathered in the sky, and even the moon's glow could not penetrate. Her entire body was tense, senses attuned to everything around her and every once in a while, her eyes would drift to Elgarain's sleeping figure in the distance. She was a little while away, resting her head on her medicine bag, face turned to the fire.
Even the High-Queen did not seem to find rest in her dreams as her face scrunched up with every little noise. Even one hand still clung to her dagger. Gyda had to be proud of that. Always prepared.
Slowly her eyes drifted a bit further, where Aragorn and Legolas conversed softly in hushed voices. The ranger look forlorn, even casting a longing look at Elgarain. His face had softened, dark eyes aglow with something—something that reminded Gyda of her own father. The look her had always given her mother. Her heart ached a bit for Elgarain.
As if sensing eyes on them, Aragorn looked away from the High-Queen, meeting hers. Her normally stoic expression softened. She knew his memories of her had never been held with fond regard. The only real conversation they had before the time of the Fellowship had involved her sword to his throat as she dragged Elgarain away from him. He had been a mere boy then. One who did not understand the danger of bringing Elgarain out to the forest, did not understand the importance of her safety.
But now, the man sitting so close to Elgarain, was a man willing to die for her.
Gyda nods at him, a small genuine smile on her face that he returns.
She sighs, glancing down at her sword, her own reflection staring back at her. Her father's eyes can be found in her own. For a moment she misses him again.
Her senses sing, a warmth glowing in her heart that makes her look up again. When she does, the pale blue gaze of Legolas is fixated on her. He carries the same forlorn look as his companion when their eyes meet. Her breath hitch at the sight of the intense gaze, one she cannot seem to break loose from.
For the first time, it is like she is back at Mirkwood, when everything had seemingly fallen into place. Where she had found someone who understood her, even in their silence. It is as if everyone else has disappeared. The wind stops howling, the snores of the Hobbits fade away and it is just them.
Gyda blinks again, gifting the prince one small smile.
His eyebrows raise at the gesture, but he is quick to return the gesture with a dazzling smile.
She has to hold back a chuckle at the sight but her whole body goes rigid once more when the peace of the night was shatters by fierce and wild howling. Without so much as a single warning, the Wargs launch their attack once again. Though this time, they were coming from all sides at once, deadly glowing eyes set on their prey.
Gyda is up to her feet already, retrieving her glaive from the ground. She stands tall glaring at the beasts.
"Everybody up!" Aragorn shouts in alarm. The sharp ring of his sword being drawn reaching the ears of the Fellowship.
"Put fuel on the fire!" Gandalf instructs as he all put pulled the Hobbits from their sleep. "Draw your blades, stand back-to-back!"
Gyda remains close to the Hobbits, Pippin clutching her cloak with one hand, and holding his sword with the other. Fearful wide eyes look up at her, and the terror-struck gaze pulls at her heartstrings. "We will make it through the night Pippin." She promises surely. "You have learned much in your short time."
He nods, a bit more sure as he slowly moves to stand back to back with Merry whilst Sam hurries to throw more wood on the fire. The flames brighten, revealing the many shapes jumping over the rocks that had formed their circle of shelter.
Aragorn tosses his sword through the throat of an approaching Warg while Boromir beheads another. Beside them Gimli swung his axe left and right, shouting out war cries in his native tongue.
A battle cry escapes her throat as she advances towards an incoming Warg, it growls, teeth bared as it stalks her. With her glaive and sword in both hands, Gyda lashes out, swinging her sword with deadly precision. The artery in the Warg's neck burst as her blade cuts through its flesh. A whimper of pain escaping its throat. The beast tries to take another step, but before it can, she has already jutted her spear forward, piercing it's skull.
Blood splatters her skin and Gyda whips around, already moving to the next Warg. It leaps forward and Gyda grunts as she lifts her glaive to meet it.
The beast falls down limp beside her, and Gyda heaves in a breath of air, blinking when a blinding light drove away the darkness.
Gandalf had taken a burning branch from the fire. It flared with white radiance as the wizard seemed to grow in size. The wolves jumped away from him as he opened his mouth and shouted words of which the meaning was unknown to her. His voice was like thunder, resembling the might he'd spoken with during the council.
There was a roar as the sky parted and lighting came down, igniting the trees that surrounded them. The entire hill was crowned with blazing light, revealing the pack of Wargs as though they were standing in brought daylight. The weapons of the Fellowship gleam in the light of the flames as they drive the Wargs back.
The light summoned by the wizard seems to renew their strength, and without hesitation, Gyda moves forward again. An arrows whizzes passed her, imbedding itself in the eys of a Warg ready to leap at her.
Without hesitation, she slices the throat of another, blade singing with the dark and almost unnatural blood of the beasts. From the corner of her eye, she can see Elgarain fighting with Rilya. The Glaive she had once crafted for Elgarain is decorated in blood, and her chest swells with pride at Elgarain fearless stand.
She had come a far from the Elfling she had once been. But there was also a stark reminder, that Elgarain had not been born with a battle in her heart, for the High-Queen was so focused on the enormous monster in front of her, she failed to see the one creeping up behind her.
Gyda's heart hammers in her throat at the familiar sight. The dark rocky terrain around her vanishes, and instead the smoke riddled plains of Mordor stand before her.
Gyldorn stands proud and fearless as he faces the onslaught of the two Orcs ganging up on him. She screams at herself to stand up, to stand beside her father, but she is frozen in fear. She can only watch as another Orc creeps up on him like a deadly shadow.
"No!"
Everything happens at once. Gyldorn crashing his sword against the Orc's with such force it shatters on impact, while the sword of the third Orc drives through his back, comes out through the front of his abdomen. His sword handle slips from his grasp and clatters on the ground, bouncing of the rocks.
Gyda blinks again, but there is no hesitation in her bones, no fear, only one thing on her mind. Not again.
She hurls her glaive in the air, just as the Warg leaps at Elgarain, blinking in the light of flames. It pierces the skull of a Warg killing it instantly, and Gyda's heart finally slows down again. Through the darkness, she meets Elgarain's wide eyes.
"Annon allen," Elgarain breaths out.
Gyda releases a breath she didn't even know she was holding, tense shoulders slouching as the last arrow of Legolas pierces the sky and plunges into the heart of the last remaining wolf. As soon as the monster dies, the fire extinguished until they were surrounded by darkness once more. The smell of smoke and death lingers.
Far in the distance the first light of the coming dawn colors the sky a pale orange. Their enemies had been defeated. They'd survived the night.
And gyda's feels as if finally she might be able to find peace with the father she could not safe.
ELVISH TRANSLATIONS
Annon allen— thank you
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