Elf Dream

Chapter 13. The End of All Things

Chapter 14

Enyala’s POV

Aragorn turned back to us one last time.

“For Frodo.” he announced quietly.

“For Frodo.” we agreed. The orcs, now fully surrounding us, stood stock still and silent, awaiting our attack. The look in his eyes was one I now recognize; it was the gaze of someone who knew that they were going to lose someone they loved.

‘The final battle.’ I thought numbly. Aragorn ran forward, a snarl on his lips and a yell in his throat. We followed behind, mimicking his war-cry. I felt strangely disconnected, as if the world was moving in slow motion. As I cut and stabbed, part of my mind was watching the men around me fall. I knew that if I wasn’t careful, I could be next. Tears formed in my eyes for the men who died, and for the men whom I knew would die. They fell, streaking down my face as I realized just how unfair it was. Just that, unfair. I didn’t know who I really was, and just when I finally stopped caring and started loving, everything was ripped away. My confusion and sadness became rage, and with a brutal cry, lashed out at the orcs, killing several. I was on overdrive; every sense in my body was on red alert. Whether that sword would hit me, whether I could kill him before he could kill me. As I leapt and hacked and slashed, Gimli cut and slashed and hacked twice as fast. Legolas was shooting arrows as fast as he could pull them out of his quiver, which was about one every second and a half or so.

“CAVE TROLL!” shouted one of the Halflings. I looked up at it, fear in my eyes. But I decided that since there was about point two percent chance of survival that I might as well go out with a bang.

“LEGOLAS! ARAGORN!” I shouted, grabbing Gimli and towing him off towards the troll, which was doing more damage than a hundred orcs could have. They turned and ran towards the troll, realizing my plan. It was simple battle strategy, really. Gimli would distract it, while Aragorn, Legolas, and I would come up from the back or the sides. The men scattered as the troll swung a mighty club, clearing the space in front of him. The only person left was Gimli, bravely facing the giant beast. I sprinted up the side of it, running up hid leg and side and grabbing hold of his neck, which was no easy feat carrying two swords. The troll shook his head back and forth, trying vainly to remove the weight from his neck. Aragorn slashed at the back of its legs, keeping it from moving backwards. I hooked my arms around his neck trying to steady it so Legolas could get a shot. While Gimli hacked away at its feet. Legolas fitted his last arrow to his bow. I grunted as the creature flailed around trying to regain his balance. Legolas had told me that the place a troll was weakest was its mouth… But how to get it to open up… I reached out to it’s bulbous face and pinched its stubby little nose, allowing no air in.

‘Come on!’ I thought to myself. ‘Come on!’ As the troll opened its mouth to take a breath, Legolas-my Legolas- released his arrow. It flew straight and true, right into the Cave Troll’s mouth. It roared in pain, then stumbled, tripped over Gimli, and fell sideways. Straight for Legolas. With a cry, I leapt off the now dead troll and tackled him. We barely missed getting flattened by the corpse.

“Thanks.” he murmured, kissing me quickly on the lips. Then he sprinted back to the orcs, his knives flashing in the gray black sky.

“The eagles!” shouted Pippin, looking into the sky. “The eagles are coming!” But, of course, with the good the bad. Just as the giant eagles soared over the gates, a terrible screeching cry came from within the gates. As the Nazgul winged their way up above the battlefield, the Eagles rammed into them, their talons slicing through flesh and bone alike. Although we were outnumbered a hundred thousand to five hundred, we were holding our own pretty well, as the orcs seemed to want to toy with us rather than outright kill us. They wanted us to see the downfall of men and elves, and a new, dark, terrible age rise from the ashes. Suddenly, the earth began to tremble. It couldn’t have been Sauron, for the orcs looked just as nervous as we did. As the ground rumbled and shook, all the fighting ceased as we watched the mountain explode. What as happening? Then, another thought. ‘I’m not going to die.’ My heart lifted and I smiled widely. I ran lightly up to Legolas, who was gazing, awed, at the mountain.