Mistress of the Fellowship (LOTR)

*12* I Want My Tears Back

Ryker jogged through the dark halls allowing her other senses to take control as her anger welled inside of her. Hate desperately tried to take control of her but only accomplished to make her see things in red.

With her sword drawn she easily decapitated the few orcs which lingered in her path. She never broke stride as swung her sword leaving a trail of orc blood until she came to where she met with a pack of orcs.

They all stopped and looked at each other. The orcs and goblins laughed to themselves for a moment until they saw the girl's eyes. The look in her eyes was one that would turn a troll's blood to ice but what shocked them was her low voice. She did not scream it or yell it, rather she just let the emotion in her voice carry the message to every orc and goblin causing them to momentarily be paralyzed. "I want my tears back!"

She crashed into the storm of beasts, taking three heads off bodies with one swipe before she went to hacking and slicing anything and everything in what could only be described as a madness.

One warrior taking on so many orcs was impossible but Ryker did not care as she created rivers of blood in which seemed to have bathed her body. Her whole world was the color red and she knew the only way out was to have a hero. Isn't there a white knight upon a fiery steed? Strong and fast and fresh from the fight was what she needed to get out of this mess she had jumped into. She could hold out for a hero until the morning life and he had better be larger than life.

More blood, more shrieks, more death came as Ryker madly fought through the night as the pains of loss scorched her insides as she felt the arrow pierce her like it had her friend. The image of witnessing one of the only two left in her life being fatally shot by such a foul beast seemed to bring her close to falling to her knees in agony but rather she used these fuels to ignite something inside that only few Alexzandron people ever experienced. Blades seemed to multiply and always make their fatal mark breaking through flesh, bone, and blades leaving a trail of blood and corpses.

Meanwhile Gandalf was leading the rest of the company onward in hopes of safety one step ahead of the orcs and goblins. Legolas kept and extra keen eye out in hopes of finding Kordelia but he knew in his mind that she would be dead. Even being one of the warrior people she was entering into impossible odds but in his heart something was telling him not to underestimate this woman. This woman that had experienced loss at a level he could not even begin to comprehend.

In the distance he could hear more and more orcs and goblins but he kept shooting at the archers hidden in dark places as a ray of hope lingered in him thinking that maybe, just maybe she might escape but things were certainly dark and things seemed light for the company as they proceeded through the dark maze following the wizard until their luck ran out and Gandalf was taken by the Balrog.

The weight of the grief hit the company like the mountain collapsing on them but still between the men and elf they emerged from the mine that held only death.

The hobbits fell to their knees and wept for the loss of Gandalf the Grey and Legolas looked back once in hope to see Kordelia materializing from Moria but his heart ached as he saw nothing.

Aragorn proceeded to make the hobbits rise and keep going for it was only a matter of short time before the hills were swarming with orcs. Grief would have to wait until they reached Lothlorien.

As they proceeded one of the members of the fellowship left something behind. Partially as a token to those lost but also for another reason...

Entering the woods everyone was both weary and alert.

Gimli spoke to the hobbits, "They say that a great sorceress lives in these woods. An Elf witch of terrible power. All who look upon her fall under her spell... and are never seen..."

Suddenly they realized all too late that they had walked into an elven ambush and were taken to Galadriel.

That evening Frodo looked upon the mirror of Galadriel and saw horrors but then Galadriel asked Aragorn to a private meeting.

Aragorn was very reverent to the fair she-elf and could feel such great power from her presence but not necessarily the power one would expect.

"Your heart longs for much Aragorn, son of Arathorn."

"My lady you see much." He answered with a bow.

"I see two women in your life that carry so much of you. One carries your hopes of that in which has yet come to pass and the other holds much of your past."

"Yes my lady."

"Tell me what it is that haunts you. What does this Alexzandron woman hold against you?"

"My lady she holds a promise. A prophesy and a promise from long ago."

"I know the prophecy in which you speak of. The prophesy of a warrior forged in the heat of battle unlike any other fighter of this time. The spirit of a warrior and the heart of a woman she will dwell middle earth with the fate of the world resting in her hands. The hand she raises shall either destroy darkness or bring all light to an end. But alas one of royal blood shall come forth from the shadows and be the one with the capability to help her make the decision of light or darkness."

"That is the prophesy which haunts me. For too long it has weighed on me until the time when I met Arwen. Because of her I have become the man I am now and have the love and appreciation for this world. I am all to happy to die defending it from all evil. I am not afraid to fight Sauron. I am not afraid to die for my love."

"And even with your love for the elf you still feel bound to your promise."

Aragorn sighed and replied, "Yes. My promise to make this warrior woman my wife."

*~*~*~* So what do you think of finding out about Aragorn's promise?