[maikafanawen]

It hadn’t been so long since Dûrvagor had been to Minas Tirith, but as they entered the city, they were all dismayed to find disaster. The city was yet barely untouched but the resonance of battle echoed up from the Pellenor fields.

Dûrvagor looked imperceptibly around at his fellow companions. To his mild surprise and great satisfaction they were not somber faced or disconsolate, but instead courageous and even optimistic. A few yet wore grins.

“I knew it,” said the oldest ranger back to Aravir who still rode behind him.

“Knew what,” he whispered back.

“Didn’t I tell you when danger was still far off? Did I not say that so help me Eru, I‘d show these men some joy that lingered underneath the Shadow? Look at them now Aravir. They all smile, faces alight with the promise of a brighter morning.” He paused as his gaze settled on Herevion before he added jovially, “I’d be willing to wager that there is only one thing that would make that one smile.” Aravir snorted.

“I think it’s a bit obvious don’t you?” The two chuckled silently as they breached the final hill before the fields.

The sight that was before them as they reached the battlefields was magnificent in Dûrvagor‘s mind. Here they were, all the men of Middle Earth who had a spark of hope that lingered still under the shadow’s threatening presence stood fast. Swords of ancient make were held triumphantly before the foe of darkness that oppressed them from the East. Not a coward stood among the ranks. Not a man unworthy of the honor to fight for Lord Aragorn took up his place with the brave.

With that the company rode hard, their horses’ hooves beating the ground like the firmament’s thunder cracks of angry gods. The wind whipped through the manes of the steeds and the capes of the Dúnedain that rode to aid their king. Through the unsettled breezes whispered their battle cry:

For Gondor and the Dúnedain we ride,
For honour and glory we will fight,
Till our foe is defeated
And the lands reunited.

In Aragorn, cheif of the Dúnedain, all hope lies.
When he calls the faithful will ride,
So to Gondor we ride, swift and sure.
To Aid Isildur's heir!

The rangers joined the battle in a blur of avid determination; each one set on a victory. Aravir gained possession of an unmanned horse early into the fighting and took up his own mount for the remainder of the fighting. It wasn’t long before Dûrvagor lost sight of his companions who had disappeared into the madness, fighting to acquire what should never have been taken.

[ July 14, 2003: Message edited by: maikafanawen ]