*。☆。
★。＼｜／。★
˚ ₊ ♡ ❰ BALLAD OF BROKEN SWORDS ❱
*✧ ─── ❝ ❪ WHAT IS DEAD NEVER DIES ❫ ❞
▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅
˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ ACT ONE  ── ad melinora 🏹 ⁺⑅

═════════ ☆•° °•☆ ═════════
CHILDREN OF ARDA DUOLOGY  ⋆ ☄.
♯ ❝THAT'S RIGHT! YOU CAN'T IMAGINE ❞
CHAPTER FIVE ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*
˚ ₊ ♡ the third age ─── year 2949
▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅

━━ ˚ ₊ ♡ 🏹
❝ 𝘸𝘩𝘺 𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘴𝘰 𝙛𝙪𝙡𝙡 𝘰𝘧 𝙧𝙖𝙜𝙚?
𝘣𝘦𝘤𝘢𝘶𝘴𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝙛𝙪𝙡𝙡 𝘰𝘧 𝙜𝙧𝙞𝙚𝙛 ❞

*✧ ─── THE SUN WAS STILL HIDDEN WHEN GYDA STARES AT THE OUTLINES OF THE MISTY MOUNTAINS. A SURPRISING CHILL HANGS IN THE AIR, that even her armour can't protect her from. Besides her, Galion with his blonde hair tied back looks like he's struggling with the same fact. His jaw is taunt, eyes hard, unlike their normal softness.

"Something feels wrong." He addresses, voice laced with caution.

Their horses neigh. Like they agree.

"It might be nothing." Elladan shrugs, "Winter is still on its last legs. And these mountains haven't been the friendliest lately."

Gyda remembers her travels through the Misty Mountains vividly. She passed them as a wide eyed and naïve elf on her way to Mordor, an air of arrogance around her she would be ashamed of now. Her father had just laughed at her prideful strides, and encouraging quips to the other younger elves in her squadron.

I will not make the same mistakes again.

She silently tells herself, before looking over her left shoulder to see the twins. They seem more relaxed, but they can't hide their set jaws. "We tread with caution." She instructs. "The last reports place the Orcs north from here towards Coldfells."

"What exactly is the plan here?" Galion asks quietly from beside his friend when they pick up their journey again.

"Lord Elrond charged us to find the Orcs." She repeats what she told the twins that same morning when they departed from Rivendell. Her heart twist nervously as she remembers Elgarain is out of her sight. Away from her protection. And she feels doubt stir in her stomach. But the soldier in her can't ignore Elrond's command. She finds a small bit of relief in the fact that Daros, Cirdan and Ithel are still at Imladris keeping an eye on the future High-Queen.

She could already imagine the displeased look painted on Elgarain's face when she would find out about her company.

Galion ducks his head, a rebellious strand of hair falling in front of his eyes, "What did he really tell you."

Valar damn his perception.

Gyda bites the inside of her cheek, she should know Galion could easily she passed her façade by now. She sighs in defeat, eyes flicker to her friend before noting the twins far more engrossed in their own conversation to pay attention to theirs. "He's concerned about their objective."

"objective?" Galion frowns, "Whatever would those wild creatures try to achieve Gyda? Without Sauron they just slaughter left and right. They have never needed reason for such things."

She swallows, mind's eye flashing to the orc that drove it's weapon through her father's back, and twisted it so cruelly. Her own scream echoing over the plains. No! no!

"That's the thing Galion. They aren't. it's complete frantic, they don't pass villages on purpose, there is no path. It's like they are chasing smoke but the wind keeps turning."

Galion pauses for a moment, eyes darting around as he tries to gather his thoughts to form a response. "Do you think..." he hesitates, "it has something to do with Sauron?"

"To be honest. I don't know what to think." She whispers shakily, "I don't want to think the worst. We defeated Sauron. And maybe it's nothing, but..." She shakes her head. "I have this dreadful feeling I can't explain."

Galion clasps a hand on her shoulder, and squeezes it reassuringly. "Whatever we may find, we'll end it before it can begin. I promise you that mellon."

"It looks like they have been here." Elrohir calls out suddenly, and they halt their conversation to Elrond's son besides his horse, crouched down next to a small puddle of blood they missed.

"That's closer than the reports from Callon stated." Elladan adds as he comes to stand next to his brother. "They move fast." He brushed passed the thick foliage as Galion and Gyda descend from their own horses to follow the elves. "The closest place of civilisation is in the other direction. how strange for them to come this way."

"Wood is still warm." Elrohir supplies, glancing over his shoulder, and holding a scored branch up. "They can't be far."

The statement makes the group tense, and Gyda's hand immediately lands on the hilt of her sword before she takes a deep breath. "Fan out. See if you can find anything indicating which way they're going if it is not a village they are after."

They all nod and before anyone can say anything else, Gyda, spins back around and back to Ilya, the mare grazing grass. Grabbing the reigns, she gently stirs the horse with her towards the north. Galion passes her in quick paces, before he moves his own horse towards the west.

The sound of the woods fills the silence, leaves crunching beneath her boots, birds chirping and bushes rustling. Once upon a time she would have found it calming. She used to seek out the woods after training with the other elves. She would sit on the grass, beneath a tree for shade as she read.

Those books were her own well-kept secret. Not even Galion knew about its contents even if he tried to pry them from her very fingers to find out. But all pleas went ignored.

Gyda didn't have much left from her mother, but those little journals gave her a chance to get to know the mother she never had for long. Inside her mother's thoughts were written in ink, and it always felt like she could relive her mother's memories in her mind when she closed her eyes.

She knew most of them by heart. And they were her most prized possession. Her thoughts subconsciously drift to one of the inscriptions. Gyda. Anarinya. You are my favorite story to tell.

A smile finds its way to her face, genuine and warm and for a moment happiness swirls in her heart.

But the startling reality cuts in swifter than a blade ever could when screams echo above the canopy of trees. Her muscles tense instinctively, and her hand pulls her sword from its sheath.

Another shout thunders, and she recognise the deep timber sound of Elladan's voice. Climbing on to Ilya, she urges the horse to move, galloping towards whatever is happening. The trees blur together, and Gyda barely acknowledges the sharp hits of low hanging branches on her skin, when more voice start to shout.

The first thing she sees is Galion with his bow drawn, a deep cut on his forehead as he backtracks away from an advancing Orc. The arrow flies and lands swiftly in the eye of the Orc, dark blood splattering before it drops forward, dirty and fallen leaves flying up in the air from the heavy impact.

Dropping down from Ilya, Gyda rushes to Galion's side worriedly. "Are you alright?" She inquires with heavy breaths.

Galion heaves, wild and alert eyes darting to her, "I'm good. He just nicked me." He tries to joke, but the elf has to squint his eye when blood trickles down from the large cut.

"Where are the twins?" She asks, eyes darting around the clearing, heart racing with adrenaline when she can't spot them. "I heard Elladan scream? What in Valar's name happened?"

Galion pulls her along towards the direction the Orc came from. "I don't know. But whatever is happening. It's a trap." He rasped, crouching down to retrieve his arrow from the Orc's head.

Gyda curses, eyes narrowing into slits as she scans the area. A deadly silence has fallen, and it only makes her more anxious. "This is bad."

"They can't be far." Galion states, but his voice waveres when he speaks.

It's more of a hopeless whisper.

They duo moves in tandem as they run towards the south, the direction Elladan had ventured. Feet are hitting the ground in harsh steps, when another bellow echoes out. The brunette flinches at the guttural sound. A miserably rotten scent unexpectedly greets them and Gyda has never been happier for the smell.

The sound of metal clashing thunders and Gyda spots Elrohir engaged in battle with two Orcs. They are circling him, malicious smirks are on their faces, blood drippling down one's mouth and a shudder runs along her spine.

The glint in its eyes is almost feral.

It takes her a second to notice Elladan on the ground, clutching his arm. Sword long since abandoned and the sight reminds her once again of Mordor. When she blinks it is almost like she's in a dream...no a memory.

Elladan is replaced by her own body on the ground, whimpering and afraid. Blood coating her skin like a deadly omen. Elrohir is no longer there, and instead all she can see is her father defending her.

A soft breeze passing her cheek brings her back to reality, and from the corner of her eye she sees Galion's arrow soaring through the air. But the Orc barely blinks, before raising his axe and cutting it in half before it can make a home in its skin.

Galion curses, stepping aside as he nocks another arrow.

A second arrow is released and Gyda moves forward with it, sprinting toward Elrohir.

Their backs are pressed together as the two Orcs keep circling them, taunting words she can't understand leaving their dried lips. Gyda moves forward with a yell, sword raised.

Swords clash and her mind is completely empty off all things but this moment. She twirls and stabs with great precision, but the Orc, with its large weapon keeps blocking all her attempts.

A shriek leaves her lips when the Orc moves abruptly, the cold sharp metal slicing along her arm. A hiss leaves when she loses her footing when moving away. She almost falls down before she moves with her momentum to regain her balance

Turning in a circular motion, Gyda spins back before jabbing her sword in the Orc's stomach with a powerful blow. She twists the sword as the Orc groans in pain. Its yellow eyes glaring at her own hazel ones. A snarl echoes. "You think you defeated him." The Orc taunts as it falls to its knees in front of her. Blood rushing from his lips when he spoke. "Think you could ever hope to kill him little elf."

Gyda grits her teeth as she tries to ignore its jests. "We already did." She spats angrily, driving her sword further in its skin.

The orc rasps, heaving as he tries to breath, "Did you?" a cruel smile finds its way on the Orc's face before his head drops. Dead.

She scrambles backwards, like the words actually hit her. She gasps in a large breath of air, almost panicked. No. no it can't. my father can't have died for nothing.

"Liar!" She slams her fist against its body. But the dead orc does not move.

"Gyda?" Galion is suddenly in front of her, a worried look in his eyes. "are you okay?"

She blinks, but the panic is still there. But she can't show it. Not now she realises when she spots Elohir's worried words as he shakes his unconscious brother. "I will be." She promises. "We need to get back. He needs a healer." She rushes to her feet.

Did you?

Gyda is sure those words will haunt her tonight.

*。☆。
★。＼｜／。★
𝘸𝘦 𝙢𝙖𝙩𝙪𝙧𝙚 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝙙𝙖𝙢𝙖𝙜𝙚,
𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝙮𝙚𝙖𝙧𝙨

─ mateus william

ᵒ .༄ ࿐ ࿔* 🏹🌋🪨
⋆⋅ ━━━━ ‧ ༻✩༺ ‧ ━━━━ ⋅⋆

THE ECHO OF THE HORN STILL RINGS IN GYDA'S EARS AS SHE GALLOPS TOWARDS THE HIDDEN VALLEY, THERE IS A THROBBING ACHE IN HER LEFT ARM, BUT GYDA TRIES HER UPMOST TO IGNORE THE SPARKS of pain that move up her skin. Elrohir is right behind her, his normal passive and steadfast expression morphed into one filled with worry for his twin brother whom still laid unconscious. Beside the twins, Galion rides with a certain kind of unease, eyes flickering from side to side as if he expects another enemy to attack.

Upon approaching the city, numerous guards already stand, awaiting their arrival after the sound of the horn had reached their elven ears. In the front however, stands Lord Elrond, face set and eyes ablaze with the calculated eyes of a healer. A singular step behind him was Elgarain, brown hair twisted behind her ears, green eyes sprung from one guard to the other, but Gyda notes, the princess did not let her eyes settle on her.

"Adar!" Elrohir calls out worriedly as they pull their horses to a stop. "He needs help!"

Gyda winches as she manoeuvres down her horse, swallowing the hiss that threatens to escape her lips while Lord Elrond hastens towards his wounded son. Within a matter of seconds, it seems Elrond has examined his wounds, before announcing to take them to the Healing Halls.

Galion all but jumps down from his horse to help Elladan carry their fellow warrior, arms slung around their shoulders as they haul him off to the Healing room, Elrond and Elgarain close behind them.

Gyda takes this moment of chaos to let out a shuddering breath, right hand coming up to touch her throbbing arm only to find her fingers stained red with blood. She shakes it off, taking a deep breath and applying pressure on the wound whilst she walks towards the Healing Halls.

Did you?

The Orcs words involuntarily enter her mind once more as they bounce around like a taunting echo.

Did you?

She swallows nervously when the chatter of the elves in the healing room grows louder and it is like a new weight has landed on her shoulders, shackling her feet to the ground. She pauses at the closed door, she can hear Lord Elrond giving orders, she can hear worried mumbles exchanged between Galion and Elladan.

Did they? Did they?

Gyda closes her eyes, stilling her mind before shaking of the haunting words and pushing open the large wooden door.

The moment she enters the room, Lord Elrond turns to her, and she does well in hiding the fact she is hurt. Her posture is straight and strong, breathing slow and steady.

"What happened?" he inquires the captain of Elgarain's guard whilst his hands search for a pulse.

"We were ambushed," Gyda states, but then her eyes drifted to Elrohir for help, for she did not witness the first crucial moments of battle.

"He was holding off three of them by the time I arrived," Elrohir elaborated. "He was cut down before I could reach him."

Lord Elrond nodded, then reached for Elladan's shoulder, where his tunic was stained red with blood. Carefully he pulls the cloth apart, his brow furrowing. Then, much to Gyda's surprise, turns suddenly, to Elgarain. "Tell me what you see," he instructs.

For a moment it is like the whole room stops breathing as all eyes turns to the future High-Queen, whom looks just as startled by the sudden attentions as everyone else.

"Elgarain," Lord Elrond presses, but the way he speaks her name is gentle. "Tell me what you see."

Gyda moves closer, careful to shield her wounded side from prying eyes as she observes Elgarain. Suddenly she looks more confident, a calm settling over her face the brunette has not yet witnessed. Curiosity rises in Gyda's gut at Elgarain steps forward, taking a deep breath before leaning over Elladan's unconscious body to inspect the wound. Carefully she, too. reaches for the cloth of his tunic, pulling it away from the wound.

"There is a lot of fresh blood," she observes. "The blade could have struck a vein." Then Elgarain put her hand to Elladan's forehead, feeling for his temperature. "He doesn't appear to have a fever." Lastly she moves her hand to his chest, pressing it softly against his skin.

The entire room seemed to hold its breath as she listened. "Breathing is steady, his lungs most likely remain undamaged."

Her words are strong and sure. Gyda notes, with sombre memories of home, that she sounds like her mother. Like a queen.

Gyda snaps out of thoughts again when Elgarain speaks once more "Our first priority is to stop the bleeding. Only then can we see how severe the wound is."

Lord Elrond nods in agreement. "Well said."

Elgarain moves seamlessly through the room, as if she had done so a hundred times already and all Gyda could do in this helpless moment was make room for the aranel as she passes her. Within seconds the princess had returned and instructs Elrohir to apply pressure to his twins wound with a large piece of cloth she had retrieved. "I need to you put pressure on his shoulder."

The Elf nods, determination burning bright in his gaze as he took the cloth from her hands and pressed it down against the bleeding wound.

Suddenly, Elgarain's keen healer eyes settle on Galion and Gyda, green meeting hazel in a silent standoff.

"There's nothing we can do until the bleeding has stopped," Elgarain spoke calmly. "So please take a seat so we can treat your wounds."

"I'm alright," Gyda averts her eyes, shame flooding her veins when she notes Elladan's paling complexion. Her first task to prove herself to Lord Elrond and she has returned with his son near death's gate. "He is the one who needs your help." She motions to Galion's cut.

For a moment both Elves stared at Gyda and she shifts anxiously, the ache in her left arm worsening. She catches Elgarain's frown, eyes fixated on her arm Gyda moves her body so her arm was out of Elgarain's sight. "As you wish," she tells the brunette, before turning on her heels to head towards the cabinets and grab the right equipment.

Gyda blinks, gaze settled on the window that shows the sun settling behind the hills of the valley.

Did you?

She grits her teeth when the memory returns once more, heart rate increasing at the thought. What if they didn't defeat Sauron? What if her father died for nothing?

"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 and time slows down for Gyda.

Suddenly there is a harsh thrumming in her ears, her fingers on the hilt of her sword tighten. The hand on the ground pushing off, and she stands up.

"No!" She screams again, running forward with a rage she didn't realise she had. Everything moves too fast now. She isn't aware of her actions but before she can blink again, the Orcs are dead and she is kneeling next to her father.

"You're wounded."

The plains of Mordor fade away again, the rotten air replaced by the sterile smell of the Healing Halls and her gaze focuses on the elf in front of her.

Gyda's gaze slowly breaks away from Elladan and found Elgarain's eyes. "I'm fine," she mutters.

"No, you're not." Elgarain gestures towards her arm. "You're hurt."

Gyda clenches her jaw, but despite the pain she does not cave. "Elladan needs your help, not me."

But to Gyda's astonishment, Elgarain, sweet unassertive Elgarain, took a step forward, eyes ablaze with fury. "Out there, on the training grounds, you can give the orders, that is where you were trained. But in here, I am the one who has the training and I decide who needs help."

Gyda bites her lip, stubborn hazel eyes meeting equally as stubborn green ones. Another shock of pain flares up in her arm and finally Gyda nods, such a small notion, she isn't even sure if she is actually moving her head.

"Take a seat," Elgarain backs away again, the fire dimming again and softness encompassing her features once more. 

A sigh escapes her lips as she does as she is told, before moving to remove her arm bracer to revealed the inflamed sight of her skin, and the blood that has coated her.

"It's infected," the Aranel states.

"I can tell," Gyda hums as Elgarain carefully places the cloth against it.

"Hold it there, I'll be right back," Elgarain instructs and Gyda's shoulders slouch as the cold wet cloth settles against the warm skin. She leans back against the chair, closing her eyes as a soft breeze caresses her cheeks.

Elgarian's familiar footsteps echoed on the floor before she hears the rustling of bedsheets where the brunette must have sat down. When the sound of sloshing water reaches her ears, she opens her eyes again to see the princess focussing on her work, mixing different kind of herbs in a bowl. 

When the princess stops mixing, she gentle reaches for Gyda's arm and places it in her lap. Gyda moves willingly, exhaustion finally creeping up on her. Very carefully she put the water and the herbs on the raw and red skin and relief flooded her. Once more Gyda felt shame when she realised how she had undermined Elgarain's training.

"I didn't mean to question your skills," Gyda voices after a moment.

Elgarain didn't look up when she apologised and instead keeps her eyes focused on applying the mixture. "I know."

"I was..." Gyda searches for the right words, "worried about Elladan. But you did good today. Your lessons with Lord Elrond seem to progress nicely." The compliment feels strange on her tongue.

Finally Elgarain meets her gaze a small understanding reached. "Thank you," she smiles and it seems they are both content to remain in a comfortable silence, but Gyda can see the curiosity flicker in the younger elf's eye.

"Did something happen when you were out there?" Elgarain gives into her curiosity.

Gyda's eyes flashed, shoulders tensing and she instinctively reaches for the comfort of her sword, but all her hands grazed was air. They pause in the air, before she lets her hand limply fall by her side again. Despite the pain of the events, for some unknown reason Gyda lets her thoughts ring out "For a moment it felt like I was back on the plains of Mordor." Her own honesty surprises her, but she quickly faces away again from the princess, as if her own words inflicted more pain than the wound in her flesh. "Can I be released?"

"Yeah," she finally replies. "Don't forget to change the bandage every morning until it is healed."

Relief floods her body, and Gyda is quick to stand up from her chair, ready to escape the suffocating air of the Healing Halls in favour of the quiet of her own room, but before she can reach the door, Elgarain speaks out once more. Gyda can hear the sincerity in her voice, but the painful memories have already stolen her rationality.

"During the war, I had these dreams about Mordor and I haven't even been there. I-" Elgarain takes a deep breath. "I cannot even begin to imagine what you had to go through. I'm sorry."

Gyda's form goes rigid at the words, fingers pausing on their way to open the door. She took in a deep breath, horrid memories flashing in her mind.

"Your mother is calling me home, dilthen maethor."

"No." Gyda shakes her head feverishly, pressing her hands firmer against the wound. "No you can't leave me yet."

"That's right. You can't imagine. So don't talk about it like you can." The cruel words taste bittersweet on her tongue, but Gyda cannot yet endure speaking of the horrors of Mordor.

The door slams behind her.

▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬

ELVISH TRANSLATIONS
mellon.— friend
anarinya — my sun
aranel — princess
dilthen maethor — little warrior