°∴,*⋅✲✦ ( ♕ ) ✦✲⋅*,∴°

━━━━ »•» act two. age of shadow

22.  to hurt or heal «•« ━━━━

* ✧                           .°

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ third age ━━ year 3019

𓇻 misty mountains; khazad-dûm {moria}

*.                           ✦                            °.

A THOUSAND WAR DRUMS ECHOED THROUGH THE ANCIENT MINES, DEAFENING AND DREADFUL AS THEIR PROMISE OF WAR FILLED THE HALLS. The sound was accompanied by the screeches and howls of many foul creatures. Their mere voices were enough to raise the hairs on the back of her neck. Fear took a hold of them when another horn was blown and countless marching feet stomped through the dark.

A pale blue light flickered in the darkness of the tomb. With a frown she searched for the source, her eyes falling upon the Elvish blade of Frodo's sword. The light was a skillfully crafted warning of what was coming. Shrill cries rang out, calling each other to war. A sound clearly belonging to a race of terrifying monsters.

"Orcs!" Legolas exclaimed.

At the sound of his voice, the Fellowship finally got moving. Blades were drawn, glittering in both the pale light of Frodo's sword and the flames of their torches. Boromir rushed towards the Western Door to take a look at what was coming for them.

A strange whistling noise cut through the shrieks and drums and luckily, Boromir recognized it before she did. He moved away just in time. Two arrows pierced the door mere inches from where he'd just been standing. Breathing heavily, Boromir threw a look over his shoulder.

"They have a cave Troll," he announced, sounding exhausted at the mere thought of having to face such a creature.

Legolas rushed forwards and together with the human warrior, he closed the doors. They strengthened the lock with the axes of the fallen Dwarves. Though they all knew it wouldn't be enough to keep their enemy out.

Someone moved to stand at Elgarain's side. She didn't have to look to know it was Gyda. Her steady breathing as familiar to her ears as her own, much less controlled, heartbeat. The two of them shared a worried glance before returning their focus back on the door, weapons drawn.

"Stay back! Get close to Gandalf!" Aragorn ordered the Hobbits. He dropped the torch he'd been holding and grabbed the bow and arrow he carried on his back instead.

The fellowship was only allowed a small moment to catch their breaths and gather their courage. For they were barely in position when a loud blow made the door quiver. Dust rained down from the ceiling while shrill war cries filled her head like an unpleasant song. Once again, the enemy pushed against the door. It shook and splintered, trembling beneath the weight of the orcs trying to force it open.

"Let them come!" Gimli bellowed. "There is one Dwarf yet in Moria who still draws breath!"

His words fueled her own courage and cleared her mind from any remaining slivers of fear. Instead, an eerie calmness took a hold of her, as though the world had suddenly slowed. She recalled Galion talking once about the strange calmness he felt whenever he fought. He'd said it was his warrior spirit awakening. And as a tiny Elleth with a crush, she'd believed him. Now, however, Elgarain knew very well it was nothing more than a rush of adrenaline. Still, the idea of a warrior awakening within her was a comforting thought.

The door trembled once again when an ax was swung against it, tearing the wood apart. Legolas answered immediately by letting his arrow fly. He managed to find his mark even through the tiny hole. The creature on the other side howled and was immediately replaced by another. This time it was Aragorn who fired his arrow, killing another one of the foul creatures.

But there were far too many of them. The door cracked before finally splintering beneath the weight. Their only defense was gone and their enemy set upon them.

Elgarain wished she could say she fought gracefully. but her strikes were swift, practical and without the sophistication of a seasoned warrior. This was, after all, the first time she found herself in a fight against this many enemies. No, not a fight, a war.

The chaos flooding into the room was an assault upon her senses. The snarls and battle cries of the orcs, combined with the rotten stench of death, almost threatened to overwhelm her. But Gyda's lessons cut through the noise like a ray of sun through the clouds. Her trusted spear Rilya danced between her fingers as she charged at the orcs.

She would never get used to the feeling of steel meeting flesh. Bones crushing beneath the weight of her spear, the dying snarls of her opponent, blood staining her skin. It was a nightmare that had become her reality. Wounds she was supposed to heal, she now inflicted herself. A thought she didn't allow herself to dwell on, knowing it would drive her insane. This enemy wouldn't show them mercy and so she wouldn't either.

An orc came rushing straight towards her but she managed to counter the blow of his rusted blade with her spear. She pushed his blade aside and stabbed him in the chest before the creature could recover his weapon. The orc fell and was immediately replaced by another. It snarled at her with yellow teeth and foul breath. She grimaced at the sight and took a step back, just out of reach of the jagged edged sword he carried. It ran after her and she swiped at his feet with her glaive, bringing the orc down on the ground. She plunged her spear through its skull. Thick black blood sprayed over her boots. She barely had time to be annoyed at the thought of having to clean it before a loud roar made the walls of the tomb shake.

With wide eyes she watched as the cave Troll entered the room, smashing apart the remainders of the doors with the huge mace he carried. Instantly she understood Boromir's reaction. For its skin was thick and gray, its legs and arms as thick as the old trees growing in Imladris. Though its size made the Troll slow and clumsy. It swung the mace at Sam but the Hobbit reacted too fast, jumping out of the way, causing the Troll to hit an orc instead, killing it instantly.

She'd only been distracted for a few short seconds but it was enough to be surrounded by five new enemies. She answered their mocking snarls with a battle scream of her own. Her spear seemed to move on its own, blocking their rusted swords and piercing their sickened flesh. But the orcs seemed to appear faster than she could cut them down. They forced her backwards, until her back hit the stone wall.

Clutching her spear tightly she lunged forward with a desperate scream, piercing the breastplate of a large, yellow-eyed orc. She tried to retrieve her spear but it was stuck between the ribs of the orcs. She groaned in frustration, pulling once again. Finally, she managed to retrieve her spear, black blood raining down on her face as she did.

The sound of a sword clattering upon the floor made her turn around. She hadn't noticed another orc sneaking up behind her. But Gyda had and now her sword was protruding from its back. The orc staggered before finally dropping to the ground.

Green eyes met hazel and relief was visible on both their faces. Elgarain took a breath, stumbling on her feet from a sudden fatigue weighing down her bones.

Gyda grabbed her wrist, stabilizing her, then pulled her away from the wall and closer to her side.

Elgarain smiled gratefully at her, the time of feeling embarrassment over her less refined moments in front of her guard long passed.

Gyda nodded in return, a small teasing smile displayed on her lips despite the dire situation. "Watch your feet, Tarinya."

The urge to protest was a reflex by now. "This is not the moment—" Elgarain caught sight of movement and reacted instantly. She pushed Gyda aside as she simultaneously reached for the dagger attached to her belt. She stabbed the orc approaching behind Gyda through its neck, killing it instantly. "—Never let your guard down," she finished breathlessly, smirking slightly.

Gyda opened her mouth to respond, but instead her eyes flashed with warning. "Duck."

Elgarain did so without question and Gyda had thrown her knife before the High-Queen could blink. The small knife buried itself in the eye of the Orc creeping up on Elgarain and it fell on the ground with a loud thud.

Letting Gyda pull her back up to her full height, Elgarain readjusted her grip on her spear, her back pressed against Gyda's as they faced the onslaught of orcs together. They moved, sliced and stabbed, dropping bodies left. In perfect unison they cut through their enemies. As though they were able to read each other's every thought, anticipate every move the other would make. As though they were made of the same star...

A loud roar came from their left, followed by the desperate shouts of the Hobbits. Elgarain turned her head, panic flaring bright within her chest as she watched the huge Troll drag Frodo across the ground, holding on to his feet. In a hopeless attempt to defend himself, Frodo raised his sword, managing to cut the thick, gray hide of the creature. It couldn't have hurt much more than the sting of a wasp, but the Troll released the Hobbit anyway.

Though, instead of letting him escape, it reached for a forked spear that had fallen onto the ground. With a roar the creature raised the weapon, only to stop when Aragorn jumped in between the two of them with nothing more than his knife.

Her feet were moving before she could stop herself, ignoring Gyda's shouts. The head of her Guard followed her closely, covering her back as they fought their way across the room. The snarls of the orcs swarming around them faded into meaningless noise. Her sight was completely focused on what was happening in front of her, made only worse by the fact that Aragorn's sword had fallen on the ground somewhere behind him.

In a split second she made a decision, not knowing whether it was the right one or not. But she saw no other way to save them both. "Aragorn!" She shouted.

He turned to look at her and she threw her spear. For a moment, it pierced the sky, weightless. Then, Aragorn reached out and closed his fist around the carved wood. With a shout he thrusted the weapon forwards, the spear piercing the Trolls' ribcage.

The huge creature staggered upon his feet and for a moment Elgarain genuinely thought it might go down. But it waved its arms around to keep his balance, his huge fist connected with Aragorn's body, throwing him aside like a weightless doll.

A scream was torn from her lips as she watched him crash against the wall before falling to the ground, his body completely still. She picked up her pace, her entire body aching to get to him. But she was stopped in her tracks by an orc jumping in front of her. She couldn't put a name to the sudden strength that took hold of her very bones. It filled her like a fire setting an entire forest alight, granting her a burning strength. She plunged her knife through the creatures' eye with a scream, all but throwing the body aside. But another immediately appeared in its place and she attacked with an unrecognizable ferocity.

She knew letting her emotions takeover would make her fighting sloppy. But she didn't have the strength to drown out Frodo's terrified cries as the Troll approached him. Neither was she able to see anything but Aragorn's motionless body in her mind. Much later, whenever she would think back to this day, she would hardly recognize herself. The healer cut down a crowd of orcs with green eyes slitted in anger. With Vilya on her finger burning like a star, guiding her knife as she ended the life of every enemy setting upon her.

Still, she wasn't fast enough.

With a roar the Troll pushed his weapon through Frodo's stomach, growling with satisfaction as all color was drained from the Hobbits' face. She froze, all her earlier fighting spirit suddenly leaving her all at once, leaving her shivering.

Frodo fell to the ground and didn't get back up again.

Gyda appeared at her side, far more calm than Elgarain. She pulled at her arm, forcing Elgarain to tear her eyes away from the sight. "You're not a healer right now, Tarinya," Gyda spoke sternly. "Now, it's your job to fight. When our enemies are down, then it's your job to heal."

Forcing herself to take a deep breath, Elgarain nodded, clutching to the words as though they were a lifeline. She couldn't help Frodo or Aragorn while the orcs were still coming for them. But neither of them had much time. This had to end, fast. "You bring down that hruo, I'll clear a path for you."

Gyda nodded once, tightened her grip on her sword, eyes determined, then she took off in a sprint.

Elgarain lost sight of her as she threw herself back into the fight. She trusted Gyda to take care of the Troll and so all she had to do was take care of the rest. To her right Gimli was swinging his ax back and forth, cutting down orcs as though they were mere trees. Gandalf fought with both staff and sword, seeming to grow in size with every enemy he brought down. She couldn't see Legolas but could hear him calling Gyda's name, at her side as they faced the Troll together.

Her arms were trembling with fatigue, still she pushed through. Both her dagger and her arm were covered with shining dark blood, the rotten stench of death overwhelming her senses. But she clenched her teeth and drove all distractions from her mind.

With a shout she pierced the skull of a dark-skinned orc and this time, none followed in its place. Breathing heavily, Elgarain turned to look around the room. The only enemy left standing now was the cave Troll. But not for much longer...

Somehow Gyda had managed to climb upon its back. Legolas had taken a hold of the heavy black chain attached to the collar around its neck. The Ellon pulled at it, forcing the Troll's head down, exposing the neck. Gathering all her strength, Gyda brought her sword down. The Elven steel pierced its skin like paper, the blade brought down with such brutal force that the tip came out the other side.

As the creature fell, Gyda freed her sword. The ground shook as the dead Troll hit the floor. Gyda broke her fall with a graceful roll before jumping back on her feet. The sudden silence weighed like a heavy blanket in the air and Elgarain was sure her racing heart could be heard echoing all throughout the mines.

Suddenly, as if struck by lightning, Elgarain remembered the two members struck down during the fight. With shallow breaths, her eyes scanned the room, finally landing on the sight of Aragorn's motionless body. All the air was removed from her lungs, her heart replaced with a stone within her chest. Some part of her knew she shouldn't be feeling this way anymore. It warned her, told her she'd said goodbye to those feelings. But the world seemed to have stopped at that moment. All she was left with was an intense feeling of guilt for all she'd chosen to leave behind...

Then Gyda's earlier words cut through the fog clouding her thoughts, forcing her out of her shocked state. When our enemies are down, then it's your job to heal.

Years of training came rushing back at once. Her muscles moved on their own without her brain even having to tell them what to do. A shield went up around her heart as she adapted her role as healer effortlessly. Aragorn would never forgive her if she didn't look at the most important member of their fellowship first. And so, with determined steps, she made her way over to where Frodo lay on the ground. She knelt down beside him and could feel all eyes on her, every one of them holding their breath.

As far as she could see, there was no blood. Which should definitely be expected from a wound such as this one. Carefully she reached out, placing two fingers on the side of his neck.

A strong, steady, pulse greeted her.

Hope warmed her heart as she carefully rolled Frodo to his side.

He gasped for air, his hand clutching his chest as his eyes searched for hers.

Relief lit up the room like a tiny sun as the fellowship looked at the Ring Bearer in astonishment.

"He's alive!" Sam cried out as he rushed forwards and fell on his knees besides his dearest friend.

"So it would seem," Elgarain said breathlessly, her eyes glued to his chest. But how? There was no blood, his pulse was normal and even his breathing was steady, indicating that none of his vital organs were harmed. But that shouldn't at all be possible.

"I'm all right," Frodo assured her, noticing the puzzled look on her features. "I'm not hurt."

"You should be dead," an exhausted voice came from her left. "That spear would have skewered a wild boar."

She turned her head, eyes meeting a pair of stormy gray ones and the shield around her heart shattered. He was alive...She wanted to scream, laugh and hit him all at once. The feeling was so completely overwhelming that, in the end, she couldn't move at all.

"I think there's more to this Hobbit than meets the eye," Gandalf's soft voice cut through her racing thoughts.

Frodo pulled his shirt aside, revealing a light silver chain mail, glittering softly in the dim light of the very mines it was made. Mithril...

"You are full of surprises, Master Baggins," Gimli spoke, his eyes filled with warmth at the sight of this small piece of his home that had survived.

"Armor or not..." Elgarain mumbled beneath her breath, reaching out to lift the shirt.

She couldn't quite believe he was truly unharmed before seeing it herself. There was a bruise forming on his ribcage already, two small puncture wounds from where the chainmail had cut his skin. But that was the extent of it, nothing actually harmful. Breathing out slowly she lowered his shirt again. "You'll most likely be sore for a few days but that is all. Normally I would advise you not to walk or run too much but that does not seem like a viable option given the circumstances."

A small smile formed on his features as Frodo nodded at her.

"Now you on the other hand," Elgarain said, turning to look at Aragorn, voice sharp. "Did you think your head is made of Mithril as well? You shouldn't have moved before I told you so!"

He was too stunned to speak, observing her with a warmth that made her chest prickle.

Avoiding his gaze, she pulled his hair away from his face, revealing a wound on the side of his head. Blood came trickling down his temple. Though she couldn't judge if it was truly that bad, or if it just appeared to be that way because of sweat covering his skin.

"It will have to wait," Aragorn spoke through clenched teeth. He was clearly in pain, though trying very much to hide it. And that was when she noticed the way he was seated, leaning slightly to the right. He'd broken a rib most likely, if not multiple.

"Absolutely not," she protested, already reaching for her medicinal satchel.

"Elgarain," he said softly, the sound of her name on his lips making her pause, "there's no time."

It was only then she heard the shrill screeches echoing in the distance. More orcs were coming their way and judging by the sound, they were with much more this time...He was right, there was no time.

"Fine," she muttered half-heartedly.

"To the bridge of Khazad-Dûm!" Gandalf ordered.

She watched as Aragorn staggered to his feet and only just about managed to swallow her comments about his stupidity. Quickly she got to her feet as well, eyes catching sight of the small smirk on Gyda's features. Together they followed the others into the hallway, finally leaving the tomb behind. 

°∴,*⋅✲✦ ( ♕ ) ✦✲⋅*,∴°

𝕬𝐔𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐑'𝐒 𝕹𝐎𝐓𝐄 . . .

We're back! Apologies for the lack of updates these past few weeks. With school ending things have been busy and I simply don't have much time to write. But a new chapter is finally here!

I hope you guys enjoyed this one. I know I did! Elgarain and Gyda are so badass together. I just adore these two okay! Also Ararain finally interacted, with actual words, yay! I promise, more is coming soon. These two just can't stay away from each other ;)

As always, don't hesitate to leave some comments or a vote! I love hearing from you guys!

xx Nelly

ELVISH TRANSLATIONS:

Rilya ― Glittering

Tarinya ― My Queen

Hruo ― Troll