[Imladris]

Lira

Lira gripped her silver dagger strongly, ready to fight if need be. Wavering unsteadily to her feet, she watched in fear as Egallhugwen, the Dark Queen, flourished her sword her powerful voice thundering across the plains inspiring fear in both friend and foe, clash blades with the first of the brigands. Gorby and Anson ran from their hiding spot and -- Merkaliel shuddered as Esgalhugwen cried her battle cry causing Lira to tumble to the ground. Tiny rocks stabbed her and silent tears trickled from her blue eyes at the pain. Scrabbling at the ground, the corpses of brown uprooted grass in her fingers, she encountered a small chain. With bleary eyes she saw that it was finely melded and glittered dully in the moon. Curling her hand around it, she breathed heavily trying to raise herself to her feet. With a sigh, her arms collapsed from underneath her, and she panted slowly and shallowly. She entwined the golden chain around her fingers: it reminded her of one her mother had worn…

Strong hands helped Lira to her horse and, turning, she saw that it was again the elf Lumiel. “I must fight,” she mumbled. A sticky liquid dribble from under the bandage and trailed to her chin, dripping to the ground. Dizzily, she gripped her dagger as Lumiel led her away from the battle. “Esgallhugwen and the others will be overcome,” she whispered.

Lumiel assured them that Eswen and the others could defend themselves ably and Lira urged Merkaliel away from the fight. Turning back, she could see the Dark Queen slay her enemies saving them from certain death.

Her head became light, and she slumped from the back of Merkaliel Falling into the arms of Lumiel, she lost consciousness. Her head was thrown back, her mouth partially open, perspiration dripping from her forehead.
*********
Gorby

I saw Eswen cry with a terrible voice. What had she become? I didn’t know and I frankly didn’t care. She was doing a smashing good job frightening our enemies and I was, frankly, rather positive that elf would not change sides. She was, after all, an elf.

Turning to Anson, I said. “May the Valar protect you, and may we meet each other again.” It sounded frightfully corny, but, after all, what else could I say? He was my best friend, and had left home and family for me. And, I would give anything to live through this fight to see him again…actually, I hoped more that he would live through it so that he could see his siblings again.

Shaking hands with him, I looked around for a weapon. A crossbow is a fine weapon certainly, but wasn’t much use at close combat. The wood hatchet was by the fire, stuck in a half chopped log of wood. Scuttling over to the wood, I threw down my crossbow, and, screaming like a mad man, I rushed into the midst of the battle heaving my axe at the air.

A burly man came at me, I tightened my grip upon the wooden handle, with a terrifying contortion of my face, I slashed at his knees and --- missed. Hurling myself into his belly (surely I could not miss at such close quarters!), I slashed the blade across his stomach and jumped away from the waterfall of blood and gut. I was absurdly pleased that I had not missed.

I looked around. No phantoms seemed to linger. Eswen seemed to dwindle into a flickering candle flame. We had won.