*。☆。
★。＼｜／。★
˚ ₊ ♡ ❰ BALLAD OF BROKEN SWORDS ❱
*✧ ─── ❝ ❪ FROM THE SHADOWS ❫ ❞
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˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ ACT TWO ── audentes fortuna iuvat 🏹 ⁺⑅

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CHILDREN OF ARDA DUOLOGY ⋆ ☄.
♯ ❝ I FELT IT TOO ❞
CHAPTER TWENTY NINE  ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*
˚ ₊ ♡ the third age ─── year 3019
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━━ ˚ ₊ ♡ 🏹
❝ 𝙙𝙖𝙧𝙠𝙣𝙚𝙨𝙨 𝘰𝘯𝘤𝘦 𝙜𝙖𝙯𝙚𝙙 𝘶𝘱𝘰𝘯,
𝘤𝘢𝘯 𝙣𝙚𝙫𝙚𝙧 𝘣𝘦 𝙡𝙤𝙨𝙩 ❞

*✧ ─── FOR EIGHT DAYS, NO ENEMY HAD SHOWN, BUT GYDA'S NERVES WERE ON EDGE DESPITE THE LULLING WATERS and dull hours spend on the water. Under the cover of stars and moonlight they traveled, some days they dared trapse during the early morning hours. Her body was slowly succumbing to exhaustion, weary from their travels after the light of Lothlorien that had encased them with a calm they hadn't felt since Imladris.

But no dangers had revealed themselves yet, and no unfriendly eyes had spotted them. The world around them was silent, strangely so. Only the occasional rustling leaves and whistling birds were heard. And Gyda had heard something ominous in those sounds. Like a warning call. For the land ahead of them was filled with despair and sorrow.

As their journey progresses the landscape started to change. Gyda let her eyes travel to the Eastern bank, where long formless slopes rose from beneath the water, stretching up and away towards the sky. But there was something strange to the way they looked, for not a single blade of grass was able to grow from the cracks. The blackened rocks like scorched earth.

The Brown lands were a familiar place for Gyda. She remembered marching through those wastelands as a young warrior with her father by her side. They were mere empty stretches of land that served as a cruel reminder of the evil of Sauron and the dangers that lurked beyond the horizon.

Gyda's eyes wander down to Elgarain. The High-Queen was observing the scenery around her with a furrowed brow, her mind surely a million miles away. There was a tension in her shoulders that Gyda knew she carried herself as well. She too was feeling the unease that surrounds them.

On the other side of the bank, more greenery survived but it looks unnatural in the way shadows were cast on the ground, like they were alive and crawling closer to them. She remember seeing those shorelines with her battalion, knows the way Galion had talked about the beauty of the Rolling Plains that lay beyond those dark patches of land.

There was little speech and no laughter in any of the boats. Each member of the Company was busy with their own thoughts. With each passing day they came closer to Mordor and the thought of that dark land was already causing a shadow to fall upon their hearts, wrapping them in silence.

Something strange was lurking about, but it was no mortal form that moves about their Company. Gyda knows that whatever watches them comes from the danger that Frodo Baggins carries around his neck.

Like a tempting call from realms beyond their knowledge a voice whispers. At night Gyda hears it sometimes. Whispering words of enticement, calls of promises in words she doesn't understand. It scares her, but it scares Gyda more that she wants to listen to them.

At night she lays, hazel eyes upwards and awake, listens to the slithering voice that comes from the Ring, but it is another that calls her back. The calm and peace of something else.

Gyda knows for some strange reason it is the Ring on Elgarain's finger that speaks to her. For since it saved it, it is bound to a part of her soul. Perhaps even bound to the High-Queen herself.

But if the Sapphire ring on Elgarain's finger was able to bring her away from the darkness, it was not in Boromir's case. Countless nights she had watched him. Barely sleeping and tossing and turning since their departure from the golden woods.

He had awoken trembling, dark eyes focused on the Ring that laid beneath Frodo's clothes, an glaze over his eyes that reminded Gyda of their journey on Caradhras. Instictively, Gyda hands reached for the pommels of her sword every time Boromir's breath hitched or his dark eyes traveled to the young Hobbit.

And Gyda was not the only one who had noticed the sudden change in Boromir's demeanor. Aragorn had turned his dark eyes to watch his every move like a hawk, ready to draw his sword.

Even Elgarain had picked up on the changes in their friend, a glimmer of worry shimmered in her eyes.

The eight night of their journey was windless and lit by a full moon that lit the water up. The dark sky was cloudless and littered with many glittering stars. It was a comfort to see their familiar silver light. Gyda found great comfort in watching them as they traveled. It was the only true peace she found at night as the cold wind brushed her skin. Their light warming her and providing a sense of safety Gyda rarely felt with anyone or anything.

Subconsciously, her eyes fell on Legolas, who too stared at the sky with a sense of happiness. Like it was whispering secrets and promises to him. Beneath the moonlight, their eyes met, and Gyda felt another rush of peace settle over her like a fire soothing her cold skin. She smiles at him, and Legolas thinks the stars hold no light in comparison to the glimmer in her eyes.

The spell is broken by a cry in the front, where Aragorn, Frodo and Sam were. Sam tasked as their look-out is pointing ahead and Gyda narrows her eyes. "There are some dark shapes in the water ahead!"

Gyda straightens, eyes picking up the sudden sound of rushing water, the way it clashes on rocks. A strong current appeared, swirling to the left, pushing the silver boats straight to the shore of the enemy. But even if they wanted to turn around, the shapes Sam had spotted in the river prevented them from doing so.

Sharp rocks rose out of the water like teeth. The river digging at the stone like claws of white foam that wore down the edges, creating sharp point and rigid edges. The rushing water pushes the boats towards each other until they were huddled together.

Gyda tries her best to stir them clear, the oar close to cracking under the pressure of the water as she manages to avoid the sharp rocks.

"Aragorn, this is madness!" Boromir shouts as his boat bumps into the one of Legolas and Gimli. "We cannot hope to survive these currents by day, much less in the dark!"

Gyda meets Elgarain's worried gaze as the Elleth looks desperate for a way to help her. But there are not more oars to use, and even if there was, they were no match for the strong waters that surrounded them.

"Back! Back!" Aragorn's voice comes out of the darkness, finally having realized that it was indeed hopeless to try and brace the currents. "Turn if you can!"

Gyda grits her teeth, fingers curling around the oar with an iron grip, muscles aching and the healing wound on her forearm aflame. They can only make small headway against the current and the entire time they were pushed further and further towards the eastern bank. The jagged rocks loom dark and ominous in the night. Her arms tremble in effort when she feels the keel beneath her drag across stone. They were getting too close to the shore.

Gyda groans with effort as she tries to peddle against the current, but the hairs on the back of her neck rise, and a shuddering realization descents upon her as she surveys the darkness.

Her eyes widen at the sight in front of her. "Duck!" She warns in a booming voice.

Elgarain, hearing her warning lets herself fall flat against the bottom of the small boat. The twang of bowstrings being drawn reached her ears. Several arrows whistle above them and fell into the water.

Gyda is kneeling on the boat, keeping a firm grip on her oar the keep them on course, hoping for the arrows of their enemy to whiz passed her. Dark shapes are running along the shore lines.

"Orcs!" Legolas calls out from the boat in front of them.

"Paddle faster!" Aragorn instructs; his voice straining from the effort it took to keep the boat steady in the rushing water.

Gyda's heart thumps in her chest as an arrow lodges itself mere inches from Elgarain's hand. The dark arrow burrowed deep in the side of the boat. Luckily their aim is rarely true, and Gyda could only think of the gray cloaks that have been gifted to them.

Stroke by stroke they went on but in the darkness it was hard to see if they were making any progress at all. The entire time adrenaline pumps through her veins, her thoughts as wild as the racing waters.

Her heart jumps, and her skin tingles, like it knew before she did herself. Gyda's eyes were straining through the darkness, but she saw it as clear as day. A single arrow, with a dark coated tip was soaring through the air.

Straight for Elgarain.

Without thought, Gyda moves, falling on her knees next to Elgarain and Gyda juts out her arm. A jolt of pain surges up her arm as it makes impact against the Mithril of her arm bracer, before the black tipped arrow clutters to the bottom of the boat.

"Are you alright?" Gyda turns to look at Elgarain.

"I-I think so," Elgarain stammers, eyes wide as she stared at the silver of the arm bracers. Even in the darkness of the night, Galadriel's light seemed to shine upon them.

Gyda nods in relief and reached for the oar again. "Good."

Pushing herself up to stand again, Gyda starts to stir them towards the others again.

Slowly the swirl of the water grew less as the fellowship labors on and the shadow of the eastern shore fades back into the night like a distant memory. At last, they reach the middle of the river again and managed to get some distance between the boats and the rocks. Then, they moved towards the safety of the western shore with all of their strength. Finally, they managed to get out of the orcs' range

"Is everyone alright?" Elgarain calls out into the darkness.

"We're okay!" Merry answers, though his voice was shaking, Gyda had never been so relieved to hear is voice.

"So are we," Legolas replies, albeit a bit breathless from somewhere in front of them

"We're okay too, I think," Sam's voice sounds small and Gyda's heart swirls with pity for the Hobbit.

Relief swarms her as their boar hits the Western bank, despite the sinister air that surround the shoreline. A trembling breath escapes her lips and her shoulder slump slightly with weariness.

In the silver light of the stars, Gyda watches as the others climb ashore, dragging their boats up the sand and towards the cover of the trees. Gyda pauses, ears prickling with a sound she can't quite place, but it seems Legolas notes the same as he turns around, strings his bow and let's his arrow sing across the water. Through the darkness it hits home and a shriek of pain echoes through the night. .

Slowly Legolas lowers his bow, his face suddenly pale in the moonlight. 'Elbereth Gilthoniel!'

A sudden dread fell upon them all and her heart stutters in her chest. A dark shape appears, like phantom in the night through the fog. A surge of cold surrounds them, and her breath clouds in front of her eyes.

It heads straight towards them, snuffing out the light of the stars and the moon as it did so. For one blinding moment, the battle of Mordor flashes before her eyes, the Orcs that cornered her, the way she watches her father fall down. It makes her stumble slightly, her back hitting something behind her.

Her eyes flicker up, and the comfort of Legolas' warmth brings her back. Gyda's hands latches onto her sword, at the sight of the great winged creature a gasp escapes her. It was darker than dark, a black shape that surpassed any darkness she had ever witnessed.

A shrill cry cuts through the haunted silence of the night. It rings through her ears and makes her flinch and squeeze her eyes shut for a moment.

Nazgûl.

Her heart trembles in fear, but Gyda shakes away those tremors, and instead let's her instincts take over. She unsheathes her sword, the steel glinting in the darkness like a beacon.

But it is the light that erupts from beside her that draws her attention.

Elgarain stands, frozen with fear but the ring on her finger glows an ethereal light.

Legolas, who holds his bow at the ready, takes the distraction and the source of light to release his arrow. The bow of Lórien sings. The arrow whistles as it found its path through the air.

Gyda's eyes follow it with bathed breath, her jaw clenches before she releases the tension from her body as the great winged creature swerves and a harsh, croaking scream follows as it fell out of the air. The shape vanishes somewhere along the eastern shore like smoke on the wind. The darkness slowly pulls away, retracting back into the forest as the moon and stars return to their place in the heavens once more.

Breathless and shivering, the Fellowship waits, motionless. But no more sounds come from the other side of the river and finally it was Aragorn who dares to move first.

At the sight. Gyda returns her sword to her side, and casts a look of assurance at Elgarain but the Elleth is watching Aragorn as he drags his boat further upon land and then turns to face them. "We stay here for the night but light no fire. We continue at dawn."

Gimli exhales deeply. "Praised be the bow of Galadriel, the ring of Elgarain and the hand and eye of Legolas! That was a mighty shot my friend!"

Legolas frowns. "But who can say what it hit?"

"One of the nine," Elgarain whispers.

A heavy silence fell upon them. It was something of a wonder they had not encountered the Ringwraiths so far. They were bound to show themselves again and so all they could really do was be grateful it had only been one of them tonight.

"So it would seem," Aragorn speaks softly, "Yet where they are and what they will do next, we do not know. We must keep our weapons close tonight."

Gyda turns, tracing back her steps and moves towards their boat. She stars out at the water, towards the edge of the Eastern shore across from her before focusing back on her task.

A trembling breath escapes her and Gyda watches Elgarain's shaking figure rummage through her bag, producing a flask of Miruvor she had taken from Lórien. The High-Queen takes a sip, and her body steadies thanks to the warm mixture. Then she walks to Frodo, who was holding his shoulder, the one where he'd been stabbed by the Morgul blade. The cry of the Nazgûl seemed to have awoken old pains.

Gyda finds herself next to Legolas, standing shoulder against shoulder. The Ellon was still looking at the space the Nazgûl had been moments before, as if he expects the Wringwraith to return any second. Almost cautiously, Gyda reaches for his hand, clasping it with her own and pulling him away. "It's gone Legolas." She whispers.

Legolas squeezes her hand in response, gifting her a small smile. "It was as if it consumed all light." He whispers, his free hand reaching to touch his chest. "even from here."

Gyda nods, biting her lip. "I felt it too."

"Here, drink this," She looks up to see Elgarain standing in front of them with the flask.

Gyda takes it without a word and sips. Warmth spreads through her body, and renewed energy buzzes through her body before she passes it to Legolas who takes a long sip himself. "Thank you Elgarain." Legolas grins at her as he holds back the flask for her.

Elgarain grins, her eyes flickering to their joined hands before she leaves as quick as she came.

As if realizing what she's doing. Gyda releases Legolas' hand again and takes a small step sideways. "We should join the others."

But Legolas grabs her arm, his grip soft and easy to escape if she wants to. "Have you thought about it?" He asks curiously.

Gyda's heart stumbles in her chest. "Ask me again when the quest is over." She answers softly.

A quiet moment passes before he let's go of her arm.

Gyda finds a place to rest her hand, her back facing Legolas and her eyes strain in the darkness. Watching and waiting but exhaustion brings her to sleep quicker than she realizes.

The night passed silently. No voice or call was heard from across the water. The rushing water of the river was a calming sound. Dawn greets them through a curtain of fog, hiding the sight of the eastern shore across the water.

"I can't abide fog," Sam murmurs, "but this seems to be a stroke of luck. At least those nasty goblins can't see us anymore."

Gyda smiles at his words, placing a reassuring hand on his shoulder.

"Perhaps," Aragorn agrees, "but we must be careful not to get caught upon the rocks."

Not many words were exchanged as they erase all traces from their camp and headed back out onto the water. Gyda watches the tree lines with a certain unease. Like the forest is whispering a foreboding warning. Like it tells her that whatever follows will be the end. Gyda wonders not for the first time, if this will be the last time to Company will be together and alive. She had wondered it the moment they had lost Gandalf to the mines of Moira.

Gyda wonders what she'd do if anyone was to die. If Elgarain was to fall on the plains of Mordor, if Legolas was.

It makes her heart ache with painful memories.

Turning on her heel, Gyda trapses back to the others, smiling tiredly at Elgarain as the both of them push their boat into the water and climb in.

As the hours pass by, the fog slowly lifts, revealing both river banks. Though the orcs were nowhere to be seen, it still felt like they were being watched. Gyda watches as the winding rivers grows narrower, and the currents increased their speed. The boats were moving along without the Fellowship having to do much rowing much to Gyda's relief.

Up ahead, two great rocks were approaching, like pillars of stone. Tall and proud they stood watch on both sides of the river. The water swept in a narrow channel between them. But they were no mere rocks.

The two pillars were shaped like men, like great kings of stone. With furrowed brows they looked north. Their left hands were raised with the palm outwards, almost like a warning and in their right hands they held a sword. Masterfully crafted crowns adorned their heads. Despite being weathered, they were still majestic as they stood there, watchers of a bygone age.

"The Argonath," Aragorn voices breathlessly. "Long have I desired to look upon the kings of old. My kin."

Gyda's skin prickled, a lightness in her heart, and she was not the only one that felt the glimmer of hope that Aragorn had casted. Her gaze fell of Boromir. His stature was less tense, an ease in his shoulders that Gyda remembered seeing only in Imladris, only when training with Merry and Pippin.

Gyda looks down at Elgarain, who seemed to have noticed the same change in Boromir and she nodded...but then her heart hummed, and a feeling unlike her own settled in her gut. She frowns, trying to pinpoint the emotion, only to end up looking at the ring on Elgarain's finger. It sings words she cannot understand. She wants to lean in, decipher the riddle but then she notices Elgarain's worried look and she clears her throat.

Gyda shakes away the thoughts and focuses back on the water.

The wind roars in the channel of stone as they passed between the statues. The current was fast and soon the river had carried them out on the other side of the Argonath. The river disappears into a long, oval lake. Far in the distance she could hear the roar of the falls of Rauros. Great pointed rocks rose up out of the water.

Aragorn steers them towards the western shore. A small pebble beach greets them and just a few steps further they could hide beneath the shadows of the trees.

"We cross the lake at nightfall," Aragorn says as he got out of his boat and started gathering his bags. "Hide the boats and continue on foot but first we must rest."

Gyda nods wordlessly, her gaze drifting towards the Eastern bank, and a shiver crawls up her spine. She swallows nervously. Beyond those trees their final destination awaits them.

Mordor was upon them.

And Gyda had to face her fears soon.

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