The Exile's Daughter

The Battle of the Barrows

After hours of travelling in the blackness of night, the Old Forest borders loomed up at last. The trees were skeletal and unfriendly, and I felt Legolas shiver imperceptibly next to me. Wood-elves were more deeply connected to the trees than any other folk, and I knew the bitterness of this forest made him nervous.

The night was about us still. It was pitch black, but it could not have been more than an hour before dawn. Our hobbit informer had spoken the truth: the cold in these parts was more than climate deep. Gandalf, riding beside me, was tense, his sword already unsheathed. Around us, the rangers' fear was palpable. The thought of fighting long-dead lords who lured the unwary  with the voices of the dead frightened me more than I cared to admit. However, the mood of my mortal companions was far worse than my own, or that of Legolas, whose eyes, despite his trepidation in the Prancing Pony, shone bright with wrath in the darkness, his steady hands urging his horse on. Gandalf had a similar expression playing on his weathered face. He looked grim but some steadfast will kept him going despite the unwelcome task that lay before us.

Something swooped out of the darkness towards us, and I barely disguised my jump. Calanon tossed his head in distress. I spoke a few quiet words in my native quenya to calm him as we began to climb a steep hill, but no matter what I murmured into his mane, he would not settle. Legolas, Aragorn and Gandalf were having the same issues with their mounts.

"We should leave them tied here." Gandalf said quietly to Aragorn. 

Calanon gave a frightened whinny as he was tied to a tree stump. I nestled my head guiltily against his neck. "They'll be alright", Aragorn reassured quietly, unsheathing his sword, "the wights have no interest in animals."

"You must think me a fool to worry about my horse so much."

Aragorn gave me the ghost of a smile and shook his head. "There is no shame in having a heart as kind as yours, Ness." He watched as I quietly unsheathed my swords, spinning them in my hands. This would be the first time I had used both together in a battle, for bows were no use against spirits. "Try and stay close to us." I opened my mouth to protest but he held up a hand "I know", he said patiently "but it is my job to worry about inexperienced warriors. I said the same to Mallor earlier." His stern look quelled my protests.

Just as I turned away from Aragorn to look around, a pale set of eyes seemed to float towards me. They were blindingly white, so much that I could see the creature they belonged to. The wight was made of a deeper darkness than that of the night. I could make out a figure, shrouded in something ragged and black, a hood over it's head. Its face looked skull-like, but inhuman, nonetheless. One rotting, skeletal hand protruded from the shroud, reaching out for my neck. A voice floated towards me. I supposed it must have come from the demon before me, but it seemed to reach up from the very depths of the earth.

"Daughter. Come and find me. I am here."

I knew that achingly familiar voice. I had tried with all my strength to recall the tones of it, the way it would lighten at the end of a sentence. The soothing sound of my mother.

I gasped, stumbling backwards. The earth seemed distant, as if I no longer belonged to it, as if it had let me go. There were bony fingers digging into my neck.

There was something wrong with the voice. It was too deep, too raspy. The spell broke as quickly as it had been set. My mother would never call to me again. I gasped again as the realisation swept over me. An unbearable grief crept into my heart and lungs; every bit as bad as the night she had been slain.

A distant shout brought me back to reality. All around us, the wights were swooping down on the rangers, then shying away from their blades. With more effort than I ever thought it would take, I brought my swords upwards and thrust them forwards. The shade let go immediately. I thought I heard a wail, as if from long ago, as it swooped away in the dark.