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★。＼｜／。★
˚ ₊ ♡ ❰ BALLAD OF BROKEN SWORDS ❱
*✧ ─── ❝ ❪ LOOK TO THE EAST ❫ ❞
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˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ ACT THREE ── face et spera 🏹 ⁺⑅

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CHILDREN OF ARDA DUOLOGY ⋆ ☄.
♯ ❝ WE PERVERSERE ❞
CHAPTER FORTY THREE ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*
˚ ₊ ♡ the third age ─── year 3019
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━━ ˚ ₊ ♡ 🏹
❝ 𝘸𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝙠𝙚𝙚𝙥𝙨 𝘮𝘦 𝙝𝙚𝙧𝙚? 𝙤𝙣𝙡𝙮
𝘮𝘺 𝙝𝙚𝙖𝙧𝙩 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝙬𝙤𝙣'𝙩 𝘨𝘪𝘷𝘦 𝘶𝘱 ❞

THE AIR INSIDE THE ROOM HANGS HEAVY WITH THE WEIGHT OF IMPENDING DOOM. The rattling door and the dust-filled cracks are symbolic of the crumbling defences, a stark reflection of the inevitable defeat that surrounds them. Gyda, with her sword at her side, takes a moment to absorb the gravity of the situation. The sight of the flimsy barricade held together by the few wooden pillars situated on the weakest spots. The war cries of the Uruk-Hai ring throughout the keep and defeat lingers in the air.

Gyda heaves in a deep breath, fingers curling around the pommel of her sword that once again rests at her side. The clamoring of soldiers behind her continues and her own eyes settle on the people inside the room.

Her lips pull tight and her brows furrow at the small group, weary heart numb knowing so many lives had been lost on the battlefield.

"The fortress is taken." Théoden states, the exhaustion in his voice reveals the roll of battle. "It is over."

"You said this fortress would never fall while your men defend it! They still defend it!" Aragorn disputes, his voice rising. "They've died defending it!"

A small spark of fury lights inside her. Had she not warned them? Did she not expect this. Losing the battle, with no place to run? Forced with their backs against the wall, fighting in a stronghold that had only given them false pretenses and a senseless form of hope?

It made her want to scream.

It made her want to cry.

Because once again she was left standing while so many had perished. Her heart wished for her to place blame. To look Theóden in the eye and tell him that it was over.

Because she felt like it was over.

"Is there no other way for the women and children to get out of the caves?" Aragorn wonders, marching towards the king, but he remains silent. His eyes dull and unseeing almost as if they looked right through Aragorn. "Is there no other way?" He raises his voice.

"There is one passage." Gamling answers instead, eyes heavy and tired. "It leads into the mountain."

Gyda breaths in through her nose, maybe not all was lost? Maybe they could still save a few...a chance to salvage something from the ruins.

"Can they make it?" Gyda steps forward.

The man looks grimly at her and her heart sinks. "They will not get far. The Uruk-Hai are too many."

"Tari Elgarain can lead them to safety." Gyda refutes strongly. "I am certain she can." Her eyes fall on her High-Queen as she speaks the words.

For a short moment it seems like Elgarain might protest, but her features are overtaken by exhaustion, leaving her without the strength to do so. Instead, she just nods. "I'll make sure they're safe. I promise."

Gyda nods in return.

"Send word for the women and children to make for the mountain pass. And barricade the entrance."

"So much death." Théoden words make them all pause. "What can men do against such reckless hate?"

She bawls her fists and clenches her jaw. There is so much she wishes to say, so much she wishes she could do. Gyda still fears she won't see another daybreak. Fears she won't see Galion or the twins again. Fears she'll never lays eyes on Lindon again.

For a moment as her bawling fists begin to tremor and her heart races like it never did before the ghost of a hand brushes her shoulder. A gentle breeze from a small open window, where the first glints of sunlight peak through. Gyda finds solace in its presence, a spectral touch that invokes her father's courage. As if her father stands next to her and breaths courage in her weary body.

The transition from defeat to hope is palpable.

"We persevere." She calls out.

"Ride out with me." Aragorn asks, eyes meeting Théoden's with a newfound fire. "Ride out and meet them."

"For death and glory." Aragorn's call ignites a newfound fire in Théoden and the others as he speaks pridefully.

"For Rohan." Aragorn slowly approaches him, "For your people."

Like a flame growing larger, the resolve of those inside becomes stronger.

"The sun is rising." Gimli says hopefully.

Look to my coming at the first light on the fifth day. At dawn—look to the east.

"Yes." Théoden's belief grows, "Yes. The horn of Helm Hammerhand shall sound in the deep one last time.." He clasps his hand upon Aragorn's shoulder. "Let this be the hour when we draw swords together."

With Aragorn's rallying call, the group prepares to face the onslaught.

Gyda juts out her chin and looks upon the two soldiers besides her and takes charge as easily as she breaths, "Please fetch us whichever horses are left."

They nod before taking off.

Gyda watches as Elgarain's worried eyes settle on Aragorn, fingers clutching the breeches of her tunic. The Elleth makes way for him but as she passes him Gyda stops her for a moment. Fingers curling around her upper arm.

"Gyda?"

"I have faith in you Elgarain. I know you will do well." She reaffirms.

Elgarain despite her exhaustion manages a grateful smile, determination flaring in her green eyes. "Promise you will return?"

Gyda falters for a moment, "I shall try my best."

Her fingers loosen around Elgarain's tunic and the Elleth casts one last look over her shoulder as she quickens her pace toward Aragorn.

As Elgarain quickens her pace toward Aragorn, leaving Gyda's side, Legolas seamlessly takes her place.

He stands with his shoulder brushing against her own. The room's tension seems to amplify as if the very air is charged with the impending clash between despair and defiance. In this moment of quiet before the storm, Gyda and Legolas exchange a glance.

The Elleth tilts her head upward to face him. The blues of his eyes swirling with worry, something she is surely reflecting in her own gaze.

He does move to speak yet and in response, Gyda intertwines her fingers with his.

The room, caught in a momentary lull, becomes a canvas for the emotions coursing through the hearts of those within. The camaraderie, the unspoken bonds, and the shared burdens are palpable. It's a quiet acknowledgment of the trials they face and a silent promise to stand together against the encroaching darkness.

"How strange to think this might be where it all ends." Gyda whispers softly.

Legolas turns to look at her again, tightening his hold on her hand.

"I wonder how Frodo and Sam are faring... if they have made it into Mordor."

"I believe they will finish what we have set out to do." Legolas voice carries certainty in it.

Gyda gives him a watery smile. "Then if this is it, we have done all to help them."

Legolas grins at her in return, a small spark of light still strong in his eyes. "This is not the end. Not yet."

"How certain you sound."

In response Legolas reaches for her other hand too, lifting them up and holding them close to his chest. "I know because I still wish for my life with you."

The honesty—although expected from him, still startles her slightly if the rapid beating of her heart hadn't told her already. Before Gyda would have retreated, stepped down and backed away.

But now...

Gyda in silence had already longed for it too. In the deepest corners of her heart she knew. Her ending was with him. Wherever en whenever fate would allow.

In her most sacred dreams, Legolas was there. By her side.

The galloping of horses broke through the thickness of fear inside the room.

"Fell deed awake—now for wrath, now for ruin and a red dawn!" Théoden's words reverberate through the room, strengthening the collective resolve of the people left inside. The journey ahead is fraught with peril, but the light of dawn carries with it a small glimmer of hope.

The horn of Helm Hammerhand carries like a war cry above them.

Gyda casts one last look over her shoulder at Elgarain who rushes away toward the chamber of woman and children. Their eyes meet.

Gyda grins at her, pridefully and confident, Legolas' words ringing in her head.

This was not the end.

With gracefully precision, Gyda mounts her warhorse, fingers curled around the reigns, sword in her other hand.

The barricade breaks. Gyda, caught in the moment, feels a surge of adrenaline coursing through her veins. The collective heartbeat of those around her seems to synchronize with the rhythm of the horn and they charge forward on Theóden's command.

"Forth Eorlingas!"

In that instant, Gyda and her comrades become a torrent of thundering hooves, steel glinting in the dawn's first light.

The warhorse beneath Gyda responds to her every nuance, muscles flexing beneath her as they surge forward into the fray. The stone stairs and narrow streets are filled with Uruk-Hai and the smell of blood is so pungent, it makes her eyes sting. With hesitation or remorse they trample the enemy, steel swinging.

The narrow stone bridge becomes their path toward the battlefield of dust and echoes.

Gyda's senses are heightened, the wind whipping through her hair, the pounding hooves beneath her, and the distant cries of battle converging into a symphony of chaos. With every strike of her sword, an enemy fell, but the onslaught seemed never-ending, as if the very shadows themselves were clawing at the fortress walls.

The taste of exhaustion clung to her as her muscles scream in protest, her arm shaking with the effort of wielding her sword against the unrelenting tide. For every foe she fells, two more take their place, a ceaseless onslaught that threatened to overwhelm even the most seasoned warriors.

Amidst the chaos, Gyda's eyes met Legolas', a silent exchange of worry and fear passing between them. The elven prince, agile and swift, was a beacon of grace on the battlefield, but even he seemed burdened by the sheer number of adversaries they faced.

A scream tore itself from Gyda's throat. The rugged steel edge of a spear found its mark, catching her calf with searing pain. She grits her teeth, the agony temporarily eclipsing the chaos around her. Instinctively, she tightens her grip on her sword, refusing to let the pain dull her resolve.

Legolas' seeing her distress, fights his way through to reach her side, his eyes wide with concern. Without a spoken word, they work in tandem, striking down enemy upon enemy.

Just as defeat loomed inevitable, out of the dawn's mist high above the battle, a single rider appeared from the east, carrying with him the unbreakable light of hope.

The chaos of battle seems to momentarily yield to a tense anticipation, as if the very air itself held its breath. The Uruk-Hai, sensing a shift in the tide, turn as one towards the steep slope. The defenders of Helm's Deep, caught in a momentary respite, follow the gaze of their adversaries.

There emerging from the from the first light of day was the White Rider himself. Bathed in the glow of dawn, Gandalf stood like an ethereal figure, a beacon of hope amidst the smoke and debris of the battlefield.

"Gandalf..."

And as if emerging from the very heart of the morning light, another silhouette materialized behind the white wizard. Gyda's keen elven eyes, recognise the distinctive figure of Éomer.

Pride radiates from Éomer as he rides gallantly upon his steed. With a swift and decisive motion, he raises his sword high, its blade catching the first light of morning, creating a radiant spectacle. His voice, a thunderous roar, echoed through the hills and valleys, resonating with a commanding authority.

"Rohirim!" Éomer's voice rings out, a rallying cry that reverberated through the battlefield like a clarion call. The very ground seems to quiver under the weight of his words.

From behind Éomer, the warriors of Rohan appeared, a formidable force riding forth like a wave of steel. Their horses, strong and steady, carried them with an undeniable grace, and the faces of the riders reflected a steely determination. In that moment, they were a beacon of hope, a living testament to the unyielding spirit of Rohan.

"To the king!" The Rider of Rohan thunder down the slope, the hooves of their horses pounding in unison.

Ahead of the charge Gandalf takes the lead, as the Uruk-Hai move in haste to prepare for the onslaught. Their spears are outturned, in hopes of breaking down the first wave of horses.

But as the White Wizard comes closer the light that illuminates from him, breaks their defenses as they foul beasts try to shield their eyes.

With ease the break through.

Horses and riders move as one, seamlessly slicing through the first line of Uruk-Hai with a force that seemed almost otherworldly.

The battlefield, once shrouded in uncertainty, transforms into a scene of chaos as the Riders of Rohan charge through the disoriented Uruk-Hai ranks.

Gyda grins, newfound strength flooding through her body. With a single glance at Legolas, she charges forward once more.

Victory was theirs.

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AUTHOR'S NOTE;
Holy damn! 🎊 that concludes the Two Towers! Can you believe it?! 😆. Only one canon act to go! One where Unlck-Your-Mind  and I are very excited to share our own plot point with our girls! All about their bond will finally be brought to light!!!

On another note Nel and myself have come up with so many ideas and post epilogue stuff we might even do a lil extra act with AU's and post return of the king content! Let us know if you'll like to see it and even it there are certain things you wanna see us write about after the last movie <3

As always we appreciate your love, likes and comments!! They always make our day!