Dreams of Power [ Lord of the Rings x Silmarillion ]

Binding Words

The walls of Minas Tirith held fast. The citizens of the Reunited Kingdom watched from windows as everything stood still. For the Easterlings had withdrawn to a hundred yards from the lowest wall. They had tried to break open the mithril gates, but none had succeeded.

Berúthiel strode forward and stood before the gates, a dark sword in her right hand, her left hand bore her ring. Her armored chest piece, forged from a black metal, sparkled in the light of the day. Her black sword dripped blood. Long, midnight locks fell about her and her eyes gleamed.

Aragorn, Eldarion, and Aderthon stood atop the gates. The king knew it was only a matter of time until reinforcements arrived from Dol Amroth, or even Rohan would be on the way sooner or later. But he hoped his people could hold out.

"Kneel." Berúthiel smirked as she spoke to the king and his commanders. "Kneel before your rightful queen."

Aderthon growled at her angrily. "Never."

"You are in my city," Berúthiel spat angrily. "I will have my city back. And I will kill every one of our people to reclaim it."

"Our people?" Prince Eldarion quivered in anger. "Our people? You are a Black Numenorean, a queen stripped of her titles. We do not recognize your claim!"

Berúthiel narrowed her eyes. "I will kill you first, boy. When I burn this city to the ground, it will be you who dies by my hand."

Aderthon glanced at his best friend, and his king, and drew Galmegil. "You will have to go through me."

Berúthiel smirked at him, not frightened in the slightest. "That can be arranged." She raised her hand to command her forces advance on the city.

The nephew of the King scrunched his face. "I demand single combat," Aderthon shouted at her. "You and me, now."

Aragorn, Eldarion, and all assembled turned to him in shock. Eldarion immediately began to object, and then spit curses as Aderthon shook his head. Aragorn remained silent, his face draining of color.

But Berúthiel merely smiled. It was a sick smile, and Aderthon felt a chill creep up his spine. But his city had lost too much that day, and if he had a chance to kill her, he had to take it. Eldarion was the heir, far too precious to the city. But Aderthon... he was fair game.

"I accept your challenge, child." She sheathed her sword. "Come down, out of your hiding place, and we can settle this."

"I get five companions of my choosing." He called down to her. "To ensure my safety until the duel."

She scoffed. "Agreed."

Eldarion insisted on going as Aderthon had known he would. "You idiot. You idiot!" The prince got into his face as the climbed down from the gate house. "What do you think you're doing?"

"Kir said that if we can get the ring off, she's vulnerable, right?" Aderthon tried to explain as he gestured for Círeth and Fëalas to join them. "This is our best shot!"

Kir and Akilina came striding up, their black armor creating gaping shadows in the daylight. Both would he accompanying him, too.

Círeth looked as angry as Eldarion. "Aderthon this is madness!" She tried to get between him and the mithril gates.

But he merely nodded to the gate keeper. The man heaved the mechanism and opened the gates wide enough for them to exit one by one. Aderthon went first.

He approached Berúthiel slowly, eyes narrowed. She stood, her sword drawn from its sheath. It was black as night. And he recognized it.

Berúthiel smiled. "This is Anguirel, ancient sword of Maeglin, son of Aredhel, daughter of Fingolfin. My predecessor, Halion, obtained it long ago. He gifted it to one named "Tinneth." You knew her, did you not?" She paused to watch the agony and fury morph Aderthon's expression. "So it is true. She was your sister. How wonderful."