Hunger Games: Fandom Style

Trees Like Torches

The bells were ringing in the dale
And men looked up with faces pale;

Eowyn stood on the track, one arm wrapped around the doorframe that led into the mine.
"What do you see, lass?" Gimli called.
A figure was approaching their wall. Black hair streamed out behind the girl.
Eowyn swung back inside. "Morgana."
"The witch."
Eowyn nodded. They'd been all but clear when they'd heard a particularly loud shout and glanced back in time see Morgana flying through the air.
"Right," Gimli growled. "I'll get my axe."

Then dragon's ire more fierce than fire
Laid low their towers and houses frail.

The rumble of falling stone came from outside.
"Was that the first wall?" Eowyn asked.
"Aye."
"Get your axe. I'll get the stone ready." She took off running. She grabbed her sword on the way.
By the time she reached the trigger point for the trap, the second wall was already exploding into fragments. She drew her sword and held it over the rope Gimi had told her to sever. Gimli had rounded a chunk of concrete into a boulder with a passable ability to roll. She was amazed at what he'd accomplished with so little.
She cut the rope and set the stone rolling. She has no illusions about how long it would take the witch to blast through the final wall.
The stone rolled, slowly picking up speed as it rolled down the slight incline. Eowyn ran right behind it, sword still drawn.
The third wall went up in a puff of smoke. Eowyn kept running. The wall had been ten yards away. One . . . Two . . . Now . . .
She dove down, using her free hand to shield her face. There was an uncomfortable moment where the stone continued to roll sedately forward.
Then it exploded. The witch must have had up some kind of barrier to protect herself from the fragments that were flying everywhere. Shards sliced through the small portion of her face that was still exposed and embedded themselves in her arms. Stone dust choked her and covered her eyelashes in grey grit.
She straightened from her crouch and lunged forward in one fluid motion. Her sword arm snapped out. The steel thrust through the startled witch, taking her through the heart.
"A gift from the Rohirrim," she whispered.
No doubt the witch had expected further resistance, but Morgana hadn't anticipated a sword so close behind the boulder.
Eowyn jerked the sword out. Morgana clutched her chest and fell to her knees. A strange sound bubbled from her lips.
A chill went up her back. The witch was laughing.
The wound was already healing. The blood that had seeped into her shirt looked odd unconnected to any damage. The hole revealed only smooth skin now.
"You poor, fool girl." The witch got to her feet. "No mortal blade can kill me."
The evidence did seem to support that statement.
You're going to die, a detached voice told her. This is what your dreams of glory have brought you to.
No. This is what the Capital has brought me to. But I am of the Rohirrim. The blood of heroes runs in my veins. I am going to die.
But I think honor and courage will take me one step further.
Eodred, Theodin, Faramir, farewell.
No mortal blade could kill her? Fine. It would at least distract her.
She swung her sword at the witch's neck. It clanged off an invisible barrier an inch from her neck. Had she still been holding it, it would have jarred her arms badly.
Had she still been holding it.
While Morgana had cast her magic, Eowyn had let go of the sword and flung herself forward. She crashed into the witch. They both tumbled to the ground, Eowyn on top, both hands around the witch's neck and squeezing.
It was the first time she'd ever tried to strangle someone. She hoped she was doing it right. She screamed a wordless war cry.
Morgana's nails raked her face. Unnaturally deep gouges streamed blood down her face. She didn't care. She just kept squeezing.
It must be doing some good. Morgana's face was changing colors.
Morgana changed tactics. Her bloodstained hands fastened around Eowyn's neck with much more confidence than Eowyn had felt.
No air. Panic reared its ugly head, but Eowyn's fighting blood was up. She kept squeezing.
Dots appeared in front of her eyes. With them came an idea. She could feel her grip loosening.
With the last of her breath she managed to let out two strangled words.
"Elf blade," she gasped.
A few moments later, a cannon boomed.