The Last Othellan

The aftermath

"Look!" Pippin cried anxiously. I stepped past the bodies of men, good and bad alike, pooled in blood and surrounded with torn and broken limbs, frowning. I reached Pippin and bent down, gently rubbing the material of a grey cloak between my fingers. "Merry", he whispered, drawing the cloak into his body.

"This doesn't mean he's not safe" I muttered quietly to Pippin, squeezing his shoulder. "He might have just lost it". Pippin picked it up and I stood, staring at the ground in vain, wishing I could track Merry's footsteps through the churning mud of the battle field but knowing it to be impossible.

I turned, intending to set off in another direction in search of my young friend, but a grief-stricken scream rent the air and tore my heart out of my chest. Both Pippin and I whirled around at the cry and my heart dropped when I saw who it was, my breath catching in my throat.

Éomer ran over to a figure lying on the ground and fell down beside them, tears streaming down his face, his voice tearing with the volume of his yells. As he lifted the figure into his arms, I saw her long blonde hair.

"Éowyn!" I shouted, my voice cracking as I sprinted from Pippin's side to Éomer's. I skidded to a halt and dropped to my knees beside Éomer as he cradled her in his arms, sobbing. "Let me look at her" I urged. "Please!" I half shouted as Éomer did not respond. He seemed to notice me for the first time as I raised my voice and his hold on her lessened ever so slightly.

I put a hand to her forehead, and found to my relief that she was still warm. Éowyn's lips were slightly parted, so I put my hand in front of them. Her breath warmed my fingers ever so slightly, but it was faint.

"She's alive" I muttered, and Éomer's eyes widened. "Only just" I continued "But there may be a way to save her".

"She's alive", he repeated softly. I nodded, and Aragorn appeared at my side, feeling her forehead himself.

"You must take her to the Houses of Healing" he muttered, frowning at her arm, which was at an odd angle. Her other arm seemed to be bruised but there was something strange about the pattern of the bruising that caught my eye. I pointed this out to Aragorn and he ripped off her armguard and eased her tunic to her elbow. The three of us gave a collective gasp. Black tendrils had crept all along her forearm, and they were growing darker.

"The black breath" Aragorn muttered. "She has fought a Nazgúl". We all stared down at her for a second in wonder. I could barely believe her bravery, and pride swelled in my heart. However, I pulled myself together quicker than the others.

"Get her to safety in the city" I said "There may still be some chance for her. She is stronger than anyone could have guessed." I laid a hand on Éomer's shoulder and he took a shuddering breath, before lifting her gently off the ground and rushing across the battlefield to the city.

"I must go and help Pippin" I told Aragorn. He nodded silently and I marched back to the hobbit, who was stood in the same place, watching Éomer pass the gate to the first level of Minas Tirith. "Come", I muttered, walking in another direction to look for Merry.

"Will she be alright?" Pippin asked quietly. I sighed.

"I do not know" I answered heavily "But I hope so. There is little I could do for her now".

The battlefield cleared slowly around us as Pippin and I searched ever more desperately for Merry, and night began to fall in earnest. The sun had set, and many of the men had disappeared inside the city, yet the hobbit was still nowhere to be seen.

In his anxiety, Pippin had begun to shout for his friend. I found his panic hard to bear, and I was beginning to lose hope myself. However, as we reached a felled Mûmak, I spotted a leather-soled, disproportionately large foot sticking out from under a dead orc. "Pip!" I called, and the hobbit at my side whirled around, spotting the same thing as I, and shoved the orc off his friend.