#Grimbold

[from-the-coffee-shop-in-edoras]

WIP Word Train

Rules: tagger gives a word, then for each letter of that word you share an excerpt from your WIPs that start with that letter.

Thank you to @hobbitwrangler !!! ♥️ I tried to follow your lead by using a different WIP for each letter, though that was hard because I don’t usually have too many going at once! In any event, my word was GIFT.

G — A Sister’s Son (the birth and death of Théodred from Elfhelm’s view)

Grimbold was already at work restoring order to the ranks, arraying men and arms where they would be needed should the retreat of the enemy prove only temporary, but Elfhelm had no mind for those tasks now, knelt down in the freezing rain at Théodred’s side. Have pity on us, Béma, he pleaded, equal parts desperate and outraged. He isn’t yours to take.

I — Untitled Prequel to Askance showing Vidumavi and Valacar meeting and falling in love

[Vidumavi:] “If what I’ve heard of Gondor is true, their prince may be more comfortable taking his guidance and direction from Vidusunus or one of the other men.”

Vidugavia laughed and shook his head. “I’m not worried about giving Valacar a little discomfort. No one ever got smarter or stronger or braver by being comfortable. If he’s truly here to learn, he’ll do well to take his lessons from you.”

F - Untitled fic about Dúnhere and his wife Lithcynd, the architect of the muster of Rohan

Four months shy of thirty, striding around in a decidedly unladylike pair of trousers with a messy top-knot and a mouth that inclined toward profanity, no outsider would have pegged her as the Lady of Harrowdale or the finest logistical mind in Rohan.

T - Sleepless (little character study of Elfhelm up late one night on the road to Minas Tirith)

The barrier between what a man thought and what he would say aloud grew its thinnest in the moonlight, and Elfhelm found himself drawn aside more often after dark by those with a sense of urgency to their words, a need to share worries and hopes or to unburden secrets before the chance was lost forever.

No pressure tags to @konartiste @sotwk @torchwood-99 @foxinarda @lady-of-ithilien or anyone else who’d like to give it a try. Your word will be STAR.

[celeluwhenfics]

This morning I went on field research for writing

In my town there is an unheated outdoor swimming pool that is open year-round. Indeed, as @frodothefair said in her comment, winter bathing is a tradition in many Nordic countries: the place was packed!!!

Today the water was 6.7°C (or 44°F for you heathens) and the air was a misty 4°C (39°F).

So... I should definitely have gone there before writing the ice bathing scene in Cold hands, warm heart! But it wasn't my very first experience bathing in "fresh" conditions, although it was my coldest ever by a couple degrees at least. I'm happy to say that the experience mostly fit what I pictured as I was writing!

A few extra impressions:

Before and after bathing, the worst is the feet. Even scantily clad, the air is not that bad, if you've moved a bit before. But the FEET, in contact with cold water on the hard ground, are in pain. It would be excruciating in the snow! Next time I must bring water shoes.

It's really interesting to experience a culture where nudity is really no big deal! Everyone naked in the changing rooms, bare butts all around in the communal showers! My partner who is from a very private culture was shocked and amused. Like a Grimbold at the Aldburg swim hole! 😅🍑

The main way I could convince myself to jump in and stay in at first was to repeat "I am Éowyn, I am Éowyn, I am Éowyn!" Whatever works, I guess!

The main reaction of my body in the water and immediately out was not shivering, but hyperventilating and panting heavily. I had to work hard to calm my breathing! I was thinking of an ex of mine who was really into the Wim Hof method... But I'm not sure I would recommend it without medical supervision.

I was able to wade perhaps 20 meters, and after about 45 seconds I felt like I needed to get out. But as soon as I was wrapped in my towel, I felt much better, and I wanted to go back again. I went around the pool once more, maybe 30 meters, and this time was almost comfortable. Nonetheless I was glad for the warm shower waiting for me! But it was nowhere, NOWHERE as bad as I would have expected.

My partner was NOT able to stay that long in the water. He was in and out, and then he wanted to go back in because he saw me swim and his ego couldn't leave it at that. His second try was not much more successful. 🤭

This is something I've observed many times: guys are quick to go in, but can't stand it long, whereas women are more affected by the initial shock (it HURTS, okay), but then are able to stay for a good while longer. And this is why I wrote Éowyn taking her time and toughing it out, but surfer-bro Éomer jumping in and running out swearing!

To be fair, men tend to have less body fat than women. I'm indeed a little softer around the edges than my partner. When I was in Mexico, this earned me the nickname of "beluga" amongst marine biologists, because I cannot tan, and I could withstand frigid waters (frigid to them, we're talking 22°C/72°F).

Overall it was FUN! The feeling of euphoria is real! I'd definitely do it again, especially that it's a 2km run from where I live, which is perfect to get warmed up before and after. A new winter tradition for me!

Okay, I'm off to make hokshoklet!

Wintery divider by @quillofspirit

[zenashapter]

A Cinematic Update of 2023!

My 2023 expressed through film!

Every year has its ups and downs. Every turn of the globe gives us celebrations to enjoy and commiserations to endure. It’s the same for us all. In the interests of inspiring others with positivity, however, I tend to share more of my celebrations than commiserations, and this year I had lots of inspiration to share! On video! My latest video is this brief round-up of my 2023 releases: Each…

[plantamorr]

NEW NEW. LOST HILLS WITH @grim.bolde . FALLOUT SHIT 💣 (at New Vegas) https://on.soundcloud.com/VRoKh

[mithrandirl]

Men clashed spear upon shield. ‘Éomer, my son! You lead the first éored ,’ said Théoden; ‘and it shall go behind the king’s banner in the centre. Elfhelm, lead your company to the right when we pass the wall. And Grimbold shall lead his towards the left. Let the other companies behind follow these three that lead, as they have chance. Strike wherever the enemy gathers. Other plans we cannot make, for we know not yet how things stand upon the field. Forth now, and fear no darkness!’ RETURN OF THE KING: THE RIDE OF THE ROHIRRIM

@lotr20 day 3: fear | courage | adventure

[remusjohnslupin]

Grimbold, how many? I bring five hundred men from the Westfold, my Lord. We have three hundred more from Fenmarch, Theoden, King. Where are the riders from Snowbourne? None have come, My Lord.

[gwynbleiddyn]

i feel like the dream in grimbold's camp at the beginning of book 6 should come with a warning that it will remove ur heart from ur body with the surgical accuracy of a drunk rhino

[captainderyn]

[Fictober24] Day 7: "Follow me if you want to live."

Prompt: "Follow me if you want to live."

Fandom: LOTRO

Pairings: Wulfwryn/Raenor

WARNINGS (PLEASE HEAD): General dark tone, descriptions of battle gore, death, and violence. Mentioned character death. Implied/depicted trauma responses and PTSD.

SPOILERS: Battle of the Isen Ford questline, Troubled Dreams quest

Summary: After the Battle of the Isen Ford, Wulfwryn's mind dwells on the fight, much of the violence in her journey bubbling to the surface. An old friend appears to guide her through the darkness of her own thoughts.

-----

The battle at the Isen ford replayed again in Wulfwryn’s dreams, as though the waking hours of horror from that day were not enough. 

She’d fallen to sleep only after her body had hit the point of such sheer exhaustion that it had given out, only for her exhausted mind to revisit the events of the day. That itself was not a new experience for Wulfwryn, more times than not the nights after an encounter or a battle would be spent in fitful spurts of sleep as her mind unpacked and repacked what had happened. After the events of Moria and of Orthanc, the restless nights became more and more frequent and her dreams less vision of what had actually occurred, taking on embellishment that jolted her awake in cold sweats and gasping breaths. 

The bottleneck of the Isen Ford dissipated beneath Wulfwryn’s feet, materializing instead into Grimbold’s forward camp. The campfires flickered in dreamy blue, and no soldiers dwelled around or rested in the empty tents. 

“You are caught in the throes of sleep it seems, Wulfwryn.” 

In this camp she did not expect to find a figment of Candaith, and the noise that broke from her at the sound of the Ranger’s voice was that of scabbed over grief. The first time she’d met and traveled with Candaith felt so long ago, in such a distant past before everything spiraled so far out of her control. Yet here he now stood before her, an amused brow arched. 

He held out a hand, gesturing her to walk with him. 

“Walk with me for awhile, friend, perhaps we can leave this night behind.” 

Wulfwryn fell into step beside him, “You are not real.” she said, voice ragged. 

“I exist still in your thoughts, and your memories. That has not changed.” Candaith corrected gently. 

She stumbled as their hazy ground beneath her feet ripped again, as still water did when a stone was dropped in. She gasped, nearly falling in her attempt to leap backwards. 

Corpses surrounded them. Rohirrim in their greens, their steeds laid beside them. The fur bundled coats of the dwarves of the Misty Mountains and Moria, the grey and black cloaks of the Grey Company. 

So much loss along her journey, so many people ripped away senselessly. 

Wulfwryn took several stunted breaths, pushing her revulsion down, and forced herself to look at Candaith. The wraith of her old friend looked around, face impassive. 

“I do hope you are able to find restful sleep a the end of your road, friend.” He said. “This is quite a heavy burden to bear, if this is what your sleeping hours contain.” 

Shaking, Wulfwryn picked her way through the corpses littering the ground and fell into step next to Candaith again. She supposed neither of them had corporal bodies in her dream-state, but it almost felt like there was a friendly brush against her shoulder, a steadying presence. 

Wulfwryn tried to focus on Candaith’s words as he spoke to her, filling the silence between them. The words flitted in and out of understanding, seem to her to come from deep beneath water at times. She would then blink, give a shake of her head, and pick up again on what he was saying. Even if the did not catch all the words, the cadence of another voice inside her own head was comforting all the same. She latched onto that, and the horrific scene around her greyed out. 

Then he stopped, and held out his arm in front of her to stop her too. 

“The one who plagues you returns to disturb your sleep further.” he said. “Let us meet him, and keep him from disturbing you longer.” 

Though they only walked a few steps, the gate of Grimbold’s camp came into focus before them, the burning torches on either pillar failing to truly pierce the darkness before or after the gate. 

Candaith was no longer beside Wulfwryn, instead standing just on the far side of the gate. He waved her on, extending his hand out to her. “Come along friend!” he called. “Follow me if you want to live free of this horrible weight.” 

“You will never shake me.” A lumbering. looming shadow took shape in the shadows left by the torches. 

Weight slammed into Wulfwryn like a load of rocks being dropped into her arms and she scrabbled to regain her footing. Her knees buckled and she loosed an agonized scream. Raenor, broken and bloody just as Morflak promised he’d be every time she stepped out of line in Orthanc, lay limp her arms.  

Her knees hit the dirt and she cradled him close, brushing aside his dirt and blood crusted hair with shaking fingers. His skin was ice cold, blue tinged. His eyes and cheeks were sunken and bruised. 

“This is what will always await you.” Morflak snarled, his horrific face contorted into a grotesque smile. 

She choked on a sob, too breathless for it to escape. 

“Wulfwryn!” Candaith called, beckoning for her again. “You must follow me. Shake his malice, it is not real.” 

She shook her head, bending over Raenor’s body and hiding her face in his hair. “I can’t, I can’t, I can’t.” she moaned in stuttering, gasping repetition. She could not bear to look into the beady, evil eyes of Morflak, could not force her rigid muscles to move and run by him. 

She heard Candaith as if from very far away, as he encouraged her to lay aside her fear, as that was Morflak’s power. That none of this was real, it was a shadow in her mind. She curled further in on herself, fingers tightening in the blood stiffened fabric of Raenor’s clothing. The tang of iron was going to suffocate her, the overpowering smell of a battlefield—

Then, smoke. Embers burst bright as stars behind Wulfwryn’s tightly closed eyelids. 

A torch, torn from the pillar of the gate, lay beside her now, though it did not burn or smolder the grass. A torch, as Amdir had wielded before the Nazgûl the night he and Aragorn had freed her from the dank prison cell. Such a simple tool, as Aragorn had weilded against Amdir when he had become gripped by Darkness. 

“Seize it!” Candaith shouted. “Hold onto that light and let it strengthen you.” 

Wulfwryn laid Raenor down, lunging forward to grab the torch. Morflak approached, laughing. 

“Your little sword was barely enough to down me, maggot. You think a torch will do the job?” 

She crouched, brandishing the torch in front of her. Never before had she felt so small, so helpless, so far removed from the warrior she’d trained and claimed to be. In the moment, she felt smaller than a child, painfully unworthy of the titles she’d earned for herself. 

She was no warrior, no guardian, no hero. 

She was terrified. 

The light of the torch spread around in a half-circle in front of her. The shadowy figure of Morflak flickered as the torch light touched him. His face screwed up and Wulfwryn gave a breathless, unamused laugh. 

That wasn’t supposed to work. 

“That’s it, Wulfwryn!” Candaith encouraged, beckoning her more intensely. 

She took another step forward, the light pouring over Morflak and his figure flickered more. Looking over her shoulder, she found that Raenor’s crumpled body was going translucent, like dissipating smoke. 

Tears streamed down her face as she gave another baffled laugh, pushing forward again. Though the figure of Morflak stepped back, his form shimmered into a haze. 

Gripping the torch for dear life, Wulfwryn hurried for the gate and flung herself through. 

Instead of finding Candaith waiting for her, she slammed back into her own body and jerked upright. 

Gasping, Wulfwryn pressed one hand to her chest to try and keep her galloping heart in her chest. With her other hand she reached out to rest on Raenor’s back. Deep in sleep, her hand rose and fell with his breaths. 

He was here, he was safe. 

She was here, she was awake. 

She scanned the camp around them, filled with the living, breathing soldiers remaining after the battle at the Ford. 

The gate was lit by the burning torches on either side, spilling light across the camp. 

There was no Morflak, and there was no Candaith. 

Wulfwryn drew her knees up to her chest, pulling her hand over her mouth, and muffled a sob. 

[anastpaul]

Saint of the Day – 8 July – Saint Grimbald (c827-901) Abbot, Confessor

Saint of the Day – 8 July – Saint Grimbald (c827-901) Abbot, Confessor, Overseer of the foundation of Newminster Monastery in England. Born in c827 at St Omer in Flanders, now Belgium (although this Town now lies within the French territories near the Belgiab border) and died on 8 July 901 of natural causes at jis new Monastery Newminster. Also known as – Grimwald, Grimbold. Grimbald became a…

[leofwines]

(the 'weirder asks' thing) 1, 31, 34

1 comfort characters i dont think i have those TBH most things i like stress me out lololol

31 music that keeps me grounded? ummmm grounded is an interesting word here, i dont know maybe i guess i could say recently ive taken some strange solace in death industrial (mostly atrax morgue and irm)

OKAY OMG 34 songs i know by heart, i know “love love love” and “color in your cheeks” by the mountain goats “one more suicide” by marcy playground “wheels” by cake “sir gavin grimbold” by gryphon “waiting room” by fugazi

[from-the-coffee-shop-in-edoras]

Hi! Question for world-building. Are there any cities in the Westfold that we know of?

Hi! Strictly from Tolkien, not really. Helm’s Deep is there with its fortress and its garrison for the men of the Second Marshal, so we can assume that was a population center of sorts. And we know there is a place called Grimslade, which was the ancestral home of Grimbold. But that’s literally *all* we know about it, so we can’t even say for sure whether it was a “city” or village or perhaps an estate or just the term for that little area of land where his family was based.

If you’re looking to build out a network of towns and villages for the Westfold and want a better starting point than Tolkien left us, I believe the folks behind Lord of the Rings Online have done a lot of that. If you google the LOTRO maps, they’ve got a bunch of towns and settlements that they created. I don’t play LOTRO, but they’ve got Wikis and things that explain the game, so they probably have info there, too, about what those places on the map were like?

I’ve made some of my own cities for my own AU, but I have not invented any for the Westfold yet. I do have thoughts on Grimslade relating to my personal HC for Grimbold, though. I put it on the river Isen, sort of halfway between the Fords and Isengard. In my mind, Grimbold is lord of that whole area, which includes some forested lands, some farming lands and a little fishing village (Grimslade proper) right on the water. They have a unique but fragile friendship with the clan of Dunlendings who live just across the river — they’re in such close proximity that they trade with one another, many can speak both languages, there are friendships and some intermarriages, etc. even though their larger kingdoms are often at odds and sometimes in all-out war. But they’re closer physically to each other than they are to many of their own countrymen, and so there’s a special and delicate little micro-culture that developed over time on both sides of the river that is sort of a blend of Rohirrim and Dunlendish traditions and practices.

Grimbold is loyal 100% to Rohan and proud of his land, but he’s also proud of how things are in Grimslade and he is very careful not to upset the balance with his neighbors except in absolute, direst need. And that pays off for him. In my mind, the early intel that warned the Rohirrim that Saruman was planning to invade at the Fords came first to Grimbold via the chief of the Dunlendings across the river, who knew about the plans via the other Dunlendish clans who were going to join with Saruman. This chief did not ally himself with Saruman and instead risked his life to give Grimbold a desperate and secret heads up by sending his oldest daughter across the river in the middle of the night with a message. But that’s all way more than you asked about!

Hope *any* of that was helpful!!! And hooray for Westfold world building!

[celeluwhenfics]

Cold hands, warm heart

Here is @frodothefair's gift for the Rohan Secret Santa! I combined your prompts "Winter tradition" and "Bathtime" into a special moment shared between Éowyn and a fervent admirer, including an interruption by arguably the most annoying surfer slang-speaking Éomer you will ever read about.

A mix of genres quite unlike anything I've written so far... I really hope you enjoy it!

I decided to split the fic into two parts, here is Part 1! Part 2 will come when it will come. 🥶

In the tradition of the giftee, author's notes will follow soon!

Éomer appeared just a few paces from him, as sprightly and bright as if he had slept all night and drank only milk and fresh water. Grimbold startled, and he blushed as he realized how thoroughly he had failed at his task as a guard. ‘Hey dude, you alright?’ boomed the captain, oblivious to the way his voice clashed with the stillness of the woods. ‘Woah, did you ride the booze barrel a little hard last night?’ ‘No indeed, I was on night watch up there.’ He fervently hoped that Éomer would continue on his way up to that tower, and stay locked up there for an entire week, preferably. ‘Aw shame man, it was epic,’ said Éomer as he kicked some snow off the lower branches of a spruce. To Grimbold’s horror, he then threw his cloak over one of them and started unbuttoning his doublet. ‘Rough night out here? I swear man, you look like you ate a frog and it came back up kicking!’ ‘No, it has been… Perfectly quiet. Nothing to declare, erm, I haven’t seen a soul in the area.’ Suddenly Grimbold was aware of Éowyn’s clothes and sword laying around him, but Éomer paid no mind to how they contradicted his affirmations, busy as he was pulling out his boots with as much grace as a horse trying to bite an itch off his own gaskin.

Tagging @from-the-coffee-shop-in-edoras for the Grim-rot, @torchwood-99 for organizing this awesome Secret Santa event, and @mummelthecryptid as promised for the ice bathing!

Dividers by the awesome @quillofspirit, Thank you!!

[thiswaycomessomethingwicked]

Arriving up the steps Gríma is greeted by Grimbold who says, ‘Théoden-king and Théodred wish to see you—gods, you look like shit.’ ‘Thank you Grimbold, I can always rely on you for a heartwarming welcome.'

Grima's Terrible Horrible No Good Very Bad September 3018 continues.

[mirkwoodshewolf]

IATCOD Chap. 24; The siege of Gondor

*Author's note*

So after a couple of days this chapter was finally able to come together. I apologize in advance if the battle sequence towards the end as well as the ending feels rushed but I hope you all enjoy it nonetheless.  Now idk when I'll update the next chapter since my vacation time is over and I'll be going back to work, then my work will transition into new work hours so idk how my updating schedule will be like but I'll try to get the next chapter done as soon as I can cause we're gonna include my all time FAV scene, 'The battle of Pelennor fields' in Cain's POV. But that's in the next chapter, for now not really much warnings except for Denethor's madness truly shining now and some graphic battle sequences.

NEXT CHAPTER

Taglist:

@plethora-of-things

@waddles03

@psychosupernatural

@jd-johndeacon-or-jackdaniels

@queen-paladin

@gay-and-ready-to-cry

@thats-s0-ravenn

____________________________________________________________

*Cain’s POV*

We rode through Dunharrow and I could already hear so many heartbeats of both men and horses.  The sound of iron clanking on metal forges and tents being pitched up for the night.  As we rode along, the men of Rohan acknowledged and announced their King’s arrival while Theoden raised his hand in greeting.

“Grimbold, how many?” Theoden asked.

“I bring 500 men from the Westfold my lord.” Grimbold answered to my right.

“We have 300 more from Fenmarch, Theoden King.” Proclaimed another man.

“Where are the riders from Snowbourn?” asked Theoden but another man told him.

“None have come, my lord.” Replied another man.

“We’re going to make camp just ahead on top of the mountain cliff’s. If you feel the altitude will be too much for your heightened senses, Theoden King will understand if you wish to stand at the ground level here.” Aragorn said as he rode up next to me.

“I appreciate the visual aid Aragorn, but I will be fine. It took some time for me to adjust but I’m able to rest on top the highest mountains Harad has to offer. The journey up the cliff’s will not deter me.” He hummed in acknowledgement as we rode up the steep cliff’s side all the way to what I assume is the King’s cliff’s where only the King of Rohan and his council members would rest while the rest of the army makes camp here down below.

When we got to the top and the men started to make camp, I stood with Theoden alongside the edge and fully counted the number of heartbeats that stood before us.

“6000 spears.” Theoden voiced my answer as Aragorn came and stood beside us.  “Less than half of what I’d hoped for.”

“6000 will not be enough to break the lines of Mordor.” I wouldn’t give up hope Aragorn.

“More will come.” Theoden assured him.  As he walked away, he stopped as Aragorn said.

“Every hour lost hastens Gondor’s defeat. We have till dawn, then we must ride.”

“I’m afraid he’s right Theoden King. With the four days we’ve lost since their departure, who knows what damage Gondor has already taken. Plus the three days ride from here to there. We cannot wait anymore.” I told him.  Theoden turned to me and nodded and that’s when a cold shiver ran up my spine and I could sense a presence nearby.

A dark, unrestful presence.  And I could sense from Aragorn that he was feeling the same thing I was.  I could also hear how the horses were starting to panic.

“Theoden, where exactly does this camp stand?”

“Just a few yards straight ahead of you Master Cain is the road to the Dimholt. The—”

“Door under the mountain.” I finished.

“You know of it?”

“Yes. And I know it’s story. Hela was involved with its making and it’s curse upon the souls who dwell there. Perhaps it’s best she hadn’t come with us.”

“All the years she and my ancestors had made camp here in previous wars, I never did understood why she never settled up here.” Theoden muttered.

“And now you know. The spirits here would not have welcomed Hela with open arms after what she did. I dare not speak ill of the dead but it’s not like they didn’t deserve what they got.” I walked away from Theoden and headed towards the horse stable where I heard Wisteria in a full panic.  Huffing and stomping her hooves with high levels of anxiety.

Slowly I came around to her and calmed her down in Elvish.  Cautiously approaching her from the side instead of head on like most of these men have been doing.

“Fæste, stille nú. Fæste, stille nú. Shhh. Shhh. Nú. Nú. Stille nú.” I took her reigns and she whinnied anxiously and frightenedly.  “Steady girl, steady big girl. All is calm, all is calm.” I gently stroked up her muzzle with the back of my fingers as she let out a huff.  “I know, I know big girl. But you have nothing to fear, not while I’m here. You trust me right?” she let out a soft neigh as I softly smiled, “Then nothing shall harm you whilst I’m here.”

She lowered her head down to my chest and I hugged her, stroking up and down her powerful neck.

“That’s my brave girl.” I gave her neck a couple of pats before rubbing it in soothing circles once more.  “We’re a team, you and me as one. I will keep you safe, if you keep me safe.” She nickered as she gave me a soft headbutt to which I placed my forehead up to hers.

“It’s almost as if you know exactly what she is thinking.” Éowyn’s voice spoke from behind me.  I turned to her and said.

“Celestials have always had the gift of knowing animals emotions. It’s not like I can precisely know what she’s saying but I can sense how she feels based on her emotions.”

“Merry is currently being suited for his Esquire attire, he wishes have you be there for him when I bestow his armor upon him.” I smiled.

“And I wouldn’t miss it for the world. Lead the way my lady.” I held my arm out and she took it as she guided me to where Merry was.

“Master Cain you came!”

“As I told lady Eowyn, I wouldn’t miss my young pupil getting fitted for his position as Esquire of Rohan.” He ran up and embraced me and I embraced him back.

“When will it be ready?” he asked Eowyn.

“Armor and helms take time to mold and size out, be thankful they were able to take your measurements the second we arrived.” Eowyn told him.  The way Merry’s heart raced, it reminded me of when Yvaine and I would take the children on a surprise picnic and they couldn’t wait any longer.

“Could you maybe check and see how it’s coming along?” asked Merry.

“Be patient Merry, these things can’t be rushed. It’s better to have an armor that is steadily prepared and fits properly rather than sloppy and unusable. You wouldn’t want your chest plate to come off and allow a sword to pierce right through you, do you?”

“No. That wouldn’t be good.” He said.

“I can still check to see how it’s coming along. With an armor your size, maybe it wouldn’t take as long to forge.” She stood up and I grabbed her wrist and whispered to her.

“You don’t need to if you don’t want to.”

“It’s really no trouble lord Cain.” I released her wrist and she left the tent.

“Now I’ve read what Esquires do in books back in the Shire, but does that also mean I’m also a knight of Rohan?” Merry asked me.

“Esquires can be knighted into knighthood by the King but that’s only if the King commands it. For now you will do as the King commands and be at his side until the battle is near.” Merry nodded.

“So is it like what you’re doing in Hela’s stand?” I smiled.

“Hela was the chief founder alongside the first king of Rohan in founding their kingdom. As such she was given the title Celestial Knight. A position in which only she can obtain. She not only helps serve in times of great war, but also acts as head of council to the king and his descendants till the end of time.”

“Hela always shared with us stories of her times serving alongside great Kings of Men. But she always held such praise whenever she talked about the two kingdoms of men, This one and Gondor, where she, Pip and Gandalf are.”

“She had a good connection with the mortal beings. Even when Ikaris and Thranduil tried to advise her on the warnings of associating with mortals, she didn’t care. Like me, she knew it was better to form as many friendships as you can in one’s life, than to never have taken the chance at all.”

“The armor is ready.” Eowyn said as she came in and I could smell the leather and metal of the buckles enter the tent.  Merry’s heart exhilarated with excitement and she continued, “Let’s test it out to make sure it fits you properly.” Merry stood up and together he and Eowyn started assembling his armor.

It took the span of the rest of the day but bit by bit Merry received his armor until finally his helm was ready.  Eowyn was just finishing adjusting it onto his head before finally saying.

“There, a true esquire of Rohan.” She stood up and I could hear and smell the excitement that was radiating from Merry.  His hand went to his belt and he exclaimed as he quickly withdrew his sword.

“I’m ready!” almost nearly slicing Eowyn across her chest. She jumped back with a gasp before laughing softly and I told him.

“Easy up there young warrior. Don’t want to hurt the Lady of the house you serve.”

“Sorry, it isn’t not all that dangerous. It’s not even sharp.” He muttered the last part sadly.

“Well that’s not good, you won’t kill many orcs with a blunt blade, right Lord Cain?” she said to me.

“Indeed not.” I replied.  “Come along, my own weapons could do with a proper sharpening too.” I stood up and exited the tent first followed by Merry who was practicing swinging his sword from the techniques I taught him.

“To the smithy with Lord Cain. Go!” Eowyn urged him and Merry raced on to catch up with me as we headed towards the smithy to get our weapons sharpened before war.

“Do you think after we get our weapons sharpened, we can train some more tonight?”

“Perhaps. But it cannot be a long training session I’m afraid. We have until dawn then we’re leaving for battle.” He nodded as he presented the blacksmith with his sword whilst I gathered my own weapons.  I then soon picked up another heartbeat that was currently making the climb up the cliff’s but it was not a Man’s heart, but Elven.  A heartbeat I had not heard in a long time, not since it had been nearly an Age since my own exile and he was still under the service of Gil-Galad.

I could also taste in the air the taste of freshly forged silver.  So the legend is finally being fulfilled, The blade that was broken, shall return to Minas Tirith in the hands of the Returning king.

“Cain? Master Cain?” I snapped out of my thoughts as Merry’s hand was on my arm.  “It’s your turn for your weapons to be sharpened.”

“Right, sorry Merry.” I presented the blacksmith with my daggers and knives.

“You were pretty deep in thought, is everything okay? Are we in danger?” Merry whispered the last part.

“Not here no. Just….hearing of a legend finally being put into motion.” Merry looked at me confused.  “Nothing you need to worry yourself over.”

“Here you are Lord Celestial.” The blacksmith said.  Merry took my weapons and handed them to me one by one whilst I places them around my belt and the two of us walked off to find an area to train when I heard Éowyn’s heart starting to break.

From the moment I first came here, I knew she had harbored some feelings towards Aragorn but he had to tell her that what she felt wasn’t real and that he cannot love her the way she wants him to.  Rejection is a harsh, cold reality that hurts worse than a steel blade cutting through you or even getting a punch from Gilgamesh. 

I hope that she can one day find someone who will truly love her.

“Merry, why don’t you find us a space to train? There’s something I need to do.”

“You sure you don’t need me to come along?”

“No, no. You go on, practice those combos I taught you back at the Golden Hall with your newly sharpened sword. I won’t be long.” He nodded then he left my side whilst I honed in on Aragorn’s heartbeat along with Gimli’s and Legolas’ who were standing at his side.  I came around a few tents to hear Gimli say.

“You might as well accept it, we’re going with you laddie.” I smiled.  Those three truly have formed such a bond of friendship and brotherhood throughout this entire quest.

“You should be grateful to have friends such as these Aragorn.” I said making myself known to them.  “Such loyalty in friendship has only ever been strong amongst my own kin that we tried to teach all those who came to Middle Earth.”

“Am I to assume you also are hoping to partake in our journey to the Dimholt?” Aragorn asked me.  I chuckled softly.

“Fortunately for you, I won’t. Someone has to stay behind and look after things on this end. I only came to see you three off, and to give you warning.” I walked up to Aragorn and he placed his hand to my shoulder whilst I did the same for him.  “The place you are about to enter is a place far worse than even the dark spell of Mordor can muster. A dark veil between our world and the unseen world, cursed by the Celestial of Death herself. The dead do not bargain with the living for they have nothing to lose. But hold true to your purpose, do not back down from your offer. And they will fight for you.”

“I’ve seen how Hela works her ways with the great beyond and she too has taught me how to speak with them. I’ll heed both yours and her teachings.” I smiled as our foreheads touched and I whispered to him in Elvish.

“May the grace of Celestial of Death Hela protect you three.” After Aragorn and I separated, he got on top of Brego whilst Legolas and Gimli got onto Arod and I walked beside Aragorn, guiding them towards the road to the Dimholt.

As we walked, I could hear the men muttering about why we were leaving on the eve of battle.  When we got closer to the entrance of the mountain, I stopped and released Brego’s reigns and felt the three of them disappeared within the darkness.  The men tried to call out to Aragorn to ask what he was doing but he didn’t give an answer as he disappeared.

“Lord Cain, what is the meaning of this?” asked one of the men.  “Why does he leave on the eve of battle?” I didn’t give a response until Gamling spoke up, hopelessness clearly ringing in his voice as he spoke.

“He leaves because there is no hope.”

“He leaves because he must.” I told him as I turned to face him.

“Lord Cain speaks the truth.” Theoden soon came forth aiding my statement.

“Too few have come. We cannot defeat the armies of Mordor.” Gamling said again.  There was deaf silence in the air as Theoden admitted to them.

“No….we cannot.” I could hear several of the men’s hearts drop in fear and hopelessness, that was until Theoden said to them, “But we will meet them in battle nonetheless.” A soft smirk came across my lips as I nodded in agreement with the King.  That alone began to light a spark of hope amongst the men once more.

As promised, I soon found Merry and together the two of us worked on his combinations as well as some basic horse training since he’ll be needing to know just how to handle his horse in battle. After only two hours of training, I told him to get some rest for we had a long journey ahead of us in just a few hours from now.

Dawn approached into the sky and the sparrows began to stir, the morning dew seeped onto the flowers and grass, and the horses began to awaken.  Both on the upper cliffs and down below the riders were quickly packing up camp, dousing out all the fires and saddling up their horses for departure.

I was with Wisteria and saddled her up with my pack underneath her saddle and she let out a soft whinny.

“Yes big girl. It is time. I know this is a lot to ask, but I’ll need you to be my eyes whilst we travel and when we arrive at Gondor. I am unfamiliar with these lands and I’ll need every bit of help when Theoden gives the command, can you do that for me?” she let out a proud huff and stamped her hooves twice.  “Thank you Wisteria, you’re a brave girl.” I kissed her muzzle and mounted on top of her.

“Lord Cain!” Théoden’s voice cried out to me.  I heard his horse ride up towards me and he said, “You ride with me at my side opposite of Éomer.”

“Yes Theoden King.” I told him as I urged Wisteria on and she followed right behind Théoden’s horse.  But all too soon he stopped as we came up to Merry and I was surprised to hear Theoden say to him.

“Little hobbits do not belong in war Master Meriadoc.” There was no condescending tone nor insulting demeanor to his tone, it was as if he was doing this for Merry’s own good.

“All my friends have gone to battle. I would be ashamed to be left behind.”

“It is a three day gallop to Minas Tirith and none of my riders can bear you as a burden.” Merry’s heart broke as he tried to persuade King Theoden.

“I want to fight!” Theoden was silent for a moment before he told him.

“I will say no more.” Then he rode off.  I turned to Merry and I knew he was looking up at me desperately.

“Master Cain, please.” I looked between him and where Theoden had ridden off to as Théoden’s voice called out to me.

“Lord Cain!” I sighed heavily and told him.

“It is beyond my control Merry. Even Hela would say the same thing. But take heart Merry, there might be a rider yet to bear you hence. I am too close to Theoden King to do so myself.” I urged Wisteria onward and she ran to catch up beside Théoden’s horse as everyone began to move out.

“Form up! Move out! Form up! Move out!” Éomer proclaimed to one and all as we rode through the fields of Dunharrow.

“Ride! Ride now to Gondor!” Theoden proclaimed.  Soon the armies of Rohan rode away from Dunharrow and on the path to Gondor.

*My POV*

I sat there in the tombs of the Kings and Stewards kneeling before the grave of Ecthelion, Denethor’s father.

“I just don’t know what to do anymore old friend. Your son has completely lost his mind. Nothing will get through to him now. This great city is at its dire hour. And I’m afraid that not even my powers will be enough to defend its shining glory.” I solemnly spoke.  I felt the soft graze of wind at my face.

‘You will have the strength to defend our home Hela.’ I heard Ecthelion’s voice say to me.

“Not according to your son.”

‘My son will need you now more than ever Hela. I know you and he never saw eye to eye. And that blame falls upon me. But soon he will see the truth. For now you must help another of my heirs.’

“What do you mean?” I asked.

‘You know of whom I speak. Reach out and hear his heart ring true.’ I then felt his presence leave me and I was once again alone in the tombs.  I closed my eyes and reached out with my own powers and could hear a single heartbeat coming closer to the walls of the city.  It was faint and weak but it still beat with life.  I let out a gasp and whispered.

“Faramir.” He’s alive!

“Hela! Hela!” I turned to see Pippin racing towards me.

“Pippin? Have you come to tell me about Faramir?” he stopped before me and had a look of shock and confusion on his face.

“He’s alive?”

“Yes. Hurry I’ll explain it on the way hurry!” I picked him up then using Makkari’s speed we raced towards the courtyard where the White tree stood and being brought in on a gurney by several guards was Faramir gravely wounded but his heart rang true.

I set Pippin down and raced up to Faramir and helped the guards set him down.  I touched his forehead and could see that like his brother, he had two arrows lodged in his body one near his shoulder, and the other near his lower gut.  Thankfully the guards were smart enough to not try and pull the arrows out completely otherwise he would’ve bled out.

“Faramir, Faramir can you hear me?”

“My lady he is dead.” Said one of the guards.

“No, he’s not. I can still hear his heartbeat. It’s faint but he’s still alive. We need to get him to a healer immediately!”

“Faramir?” we turned to see Denethor running out of the palace and across the courtyard.  He pushed me out of the way and knelt before his son weeping, “Say not that he has fallen.”

“They were outnumbered. None survived.”

“That’s not true! We can still save him!” I tried to speak up.

“My sons are spent…..my line has ended. The house of the Stewards has failed……” Denethor tearfully whimpered as he staggered away from Faramir.  I then saw Pippin go up to Faramir and he too saw what I had seen.

“He’s alive!” Pippin vouched for me.

“Please we must do something there is still hope. Denethor listen to us! Your son still lives!” I proclaimed.

“She’s right my lord he needs medicine.” Pippin agreed.

“My line has ended!” Denethor cried out tearfully.  I clenched my hands into fists and stormed towards him but my anger soon turned to horror at what I saw before me.

A full battalion of orcs spreading out far and wide across the entire Pelennor fields.  Not even the force that Saruman had sent to Isengard was as great as this.  It was as if the entire fields had been covered in a blanket of shadow.

“Rohan…..has deserted us.” I heard Denethor mutter under his breath.  I watched as the trolls readied the catapults with heavy boulders and they were soon fired by the orc launchers.  The stones flew high towards the towers and I could hear the panicked screams of the people, not only guards but women and children.  “Theoden’s betrayed me!” Denethor sneered under his breath.

No. No that’s not true! If anyone it’s your fault Denethor! You could’ve called out earlier but you had to resort Gandalf, Pippin and I to do your work for you like you’ve always had.  I’m sorry Ecthelion, I truly am.

“Abandon your posts! FLEE! FLEE FOR YOUR LIVES!!” Alright that’s it! I suddenly appeared before Denethor and knife chopped him in the neck.  He let out a gasped groan as he grabbed his neck.  I snarled and then using Makkari’s special move, I used my index and tall finger to disable Denethor by hitting all of his pressure points to paralyze him.

It may have looked like an overkill but by the time I was done with him, he looked like a writhing mess on the floor and all that could be heard from him was a choked gurgle.

“PREPARE FOR BATTLE!! RETURN TO YOUR POSTS!!” I used my Celestial voice to boom across the entire city to make sure that the guards knew where they stood now.  I turned to Gandalf who was also looking down at Denethor with disgust but when he looked at me, he nodded firmly.

I shifted to Ikaris’ uniform and flew off to help prepare the soldiers for battle.  I landed along the walls at the Gate and told the soldiers.

“You will either take orders from me or the White Wizard. Your Steward has chosen to abandon your city. You are all soldiers of Gondor! Will you flee and allow your home to burn and your families be slaughtered or will you stand and fight!?” the soldiers all withdrew their bows and arrows readying for the attack I would give them.

My hands slowly glew with star bolts and I flew just a few feet from them and I told them to ready themselves.  As the orcs drew closer I told them to hold, hold, hold until I shouted.

“RAIN FIRE!!!” The archers then unleashed a rain of arrows down upon any and all orcs that came near the gates while I fired my star bolts at them.  This time (and from what I’ve seen of my Starlight kin in the past), when I fired my star bolts it was like an explosion had been set off from underneath their feet.  “Don’t you dare let a single one of these foul creatures get one scratch on those doors!” I proclaimed as I kept firing a rain of star bolts upon each and every orc that came near the gates.

Suddenly I felt a burning sensation from behind my eyes.  I grunted and tried to rub the feeling away but it kept getting burning brighter and brighter until finally……ZAP!! Star bolts came out of my eyes right at one of the towers which exploded underneath my power.

The burning sensation soon went away and I had recalled.  Only Ikaris and Cain were able to do this special move and together they were an unstoppable pair whenever they were able to do this move.  They had called it ‘Starlight’s Gazer-beam’.  A beam of powerful light that comes out of both eyes but it was as powerful and deadly as dragon-fire.

I smirked deviously and turned my attention back to the orcs.  I could hear most that had witnessed what I had done, their hearts racing in fear.  My entire body glew brighter but that’s when the sounds of the Nazgul came from above.

This time all nine of them had come to battle, including the Witch King himself.  I turned to the guards and proclaimed to them.

“Show them no mercy!” I flew towards the sky and felt my eyes burning once more and I shot a starlight gazer-beam right towards Angmar himself.  He swerved his fellbeast aside completely dodging my attack by a hair and turned his attention towards me.

The dark aura of his very spirit had my entire body shaking but I had to do this.  I knew he was the greatest threat to this kingdom, so if I take out the head of the snake, we’ll have a slight advantage without his dark magic affecting this city.  Plus this fight was personal, he already took Anor I wasn’t going to let him take Gondor too.

The Witch King and I stared each other down as my body continued to glow and shimmer like a star as both fear and rage boiled inside of me like an unknown mixture of stew.  I then flew towards him at great speed as I let out a Celestial battle cry which echoed through the entire sky.  While at the same time, Angmar urged his fellbeast towards me, screeching out his agonizing shriek wielding his Morgul blade.

I crossed my arms sending out a beam of light towards him, stirring him off course and fired a star bolt right at his back.  He turned and urged his fellbeast to follow me.  I took them high above the city but down towards the orc armies.  As low as I could go whilst exploding through the orc armies to hopefully give Gondor a fighting chance.  Angmar used his fellbeast to try and grab me but I fired multiple star bolts right into it’s mouth and face which forced it to rear itself inward and I took off flying back up into the sky.

A few seconds later, Angmar reappeared through the clouds with his flaming sword in hand now and I readied my own attack.  My eyes once again feeling that burning sensation until I fully let it out and it hit straight at Angmar’s flaming sword.  If I could somehow destroy that, it should lessen some of his powers.  If you had to ask me for most powerful weapons, in order I’d tell you it was his famed Morgul blade, followed by his Flaming sword and then his mace.

He blocked himself with his flaming sword, just like I had hoped he would.  I increased the power of my Starlight gazer-beam, crying out in rage, regret, and sorrow at all the lives he had taken back at Anor.  However I could feel, the power of his sword starting to push my power back towards me.

My body shook and trembled but I tried to push on until finally with a flash of light I was sent falling back towards the city where I had crashed through the White tower of Ecthelion.  I slammed through one side of the tower and actually came out the other side until I was skipping and going across the upper courtyard near the palace.

“HELA!!” I let out a groan as I felt small hands grip onto my shoulders.  “Miss Hela? Hela?!” I opened my eyes to see Pippin hovering over me and he said in relief, “You’re okay!” he immediately embraced me and that’s when I saw Gandalf running up towards me.  Fear suddenly took over me as I told him.

“He’s too powerful. Not even with Ikaris’ power can I stop the Witch King.” Gandalf and Pippin looked at me in despair and horror respectively.

“You will help us with the orcs and trolls. The Nazgul—will have to wait. These men need a commanding officer. They need you Hela.” Gandalf told me.  I nodded and grunted in pain as I stood up and returned to my own Celestial armor and summoned Aeglos to my hand.

“Pippin, you wait here and guard the palace. If there is a breach, the city will need you to defend it from harm.” I told him.  Pippin nodded and withdrew his sword showing me that he was ready to do his duty as Guard of the Citadel.

“Be careful Hela.” I nodded then both Gandalf and I raced off to command the soldiers of Gondor throughout the battle.

By the time the sun was setting in the West and the first signs of nightfall were upon us, the battle was still raging onward.  According to Gandalf the lower levels had been breached, now my main objective was to get the women and children up to the second level.  Using Makkari’s speed, I grabbed as many women and children as possible to race them out of harms way before the orc armies could flood into this part of the city.

Once everyone was through, we barred the gates of the second level and I said to some of the guards.

“Gather every bowmen you’ve got left and get them into these buildings, the orcs won’t suspect a surprise attack from the tops of civilian homes. And make sure they barricade the homes once there inside.”

“Yes my lady Celestial.”

“HELA!! HELA!!!” I heard Pippin’s voice calling out to me.  Through the panicked crowd I couldn’t see my young hobbit friend but as I pushed through them I finally caught sight of him.

“PIP!!” I called out to him.  He raced over to me and cried through the panicked screams.

“Denethor has lost his mind! He’s burning Faramir alive!” my eyes widened.

“Tell me where and hold on!” I picked him up and using Makkari’s speed, we quickly raced to where Denethor had taken Faramir to be burned.  But we were stopped by a few guards who sported armor with anti-Celestial runes.  I narrowed my eyes and reverted back to my normal armor, my hearing coming back instantly as the leading guard said to me.

“You cannot take another step Celestial Hela, by order of the Steward of Gondor.”

“Clearly you can see that your Steward has gone completely mad! His son is alive and you’re willing to let Faramir be burned alive?! If not then you lot are about as mad as Denethor has become.”

“Hela,” Pippin said to me but I shushed him.

“If you choose to fight us we’ll have no choice but to use extreme measures.” Said the leading guard.

“Hela.” Pippin now began tugging on my trousers like a child demanding attention.

“I’ve fought with worse beings than you lot.”

“Hela!”

“What Peregrin Took!?” I snapped at him.

“There’s something you need to know about these guys.”

“If it’s about the Celestial runes on their armor I can see that Pippin.”

“No, it’s about Haldir.” I froze.  I looked down at Pippin and whispered.

“You can’t say his real name here Pippin.”

“Hela, they already know. Haven’t you noticed how he didn’t come to help aid in the fight?” I thought back.  Now that he mentioned it, I hadn’t even been able to detect Haldir’s heartbeat within the city at all.  “I’m sorry Hela, but—they somehow found out and took him.”

“And you’re sure it was these men here?” I asked lowly.

“I saw it with my own eyes. I even heard someone else’s voice. It was—it frightened me. It was both warm yet unsettling and I swore I saw Haldir’s eyes glow red at one point.” Red eyes? Deimos! I turned to the men and demanded.

“What have you men to say against these allegations? Are they true? Did you apprehend an Elf earlier today?”

“We have no idea what you’re talking about.” Said the leader.  Oh they want to play this game, okay I’ll play along. 

I lifted my hand as it glowed black with my own magic and all the men lurched forward in agony as they gripped their chests in pain. 

“Don’t make me ask twice!” I threatened in a low, menacing tone.

*3rd Person POV*

Over at Minas Morgul, now that the Witch king and the armies of Mordor had finally cleared the fortress, there was no one left but four people.  Nergal who was sitting with a Morgul blade in his hand, Perses who stood along the balcony with his arms crossed looking outward towards Gondor, and Deimos stood with a blood stained dagger in his hand and standing right before him in wires was Haldir.

His upperbody stained with blood, bruises, and scars.  The wires Haldir had been bounded by were unlike anything he had ever seen or heard of before.  With each struggle or even movement he made, the wires would dig into his skin like a knife causing not only pain but discomfort.  And they also seemed to get tighter with each movement he made.

“I’ll admit, I’ve had my fill but now I’m growing bored, why can’t we just kill this Elfling and be done with him already?” Deimos said.

“What good is he to us if he’s dead? We want him alive for Hela’s arrival.” Nergal said.  That’s when Perses’ brow rose up and he moved toward the balcony and he said in a low menacing growl.

“It’s happening.” Deimos and Nergal turned to him.  “Can’t you feel it? She’s finally giving in.” Deimos smelled the air and exhaled pleasurable and said with a menacing grin.

“He’s right, I can smell her rage from here. And she’s close, so very close to spilling that blood in raw rage.”

“Seems you were right Perses, all she needed was that extra little push.”

“Soon the Celestial of Death will arrive and she’ll be at our mercy. Then all of Middle Earth shall bow before us.” Perses then let out a menacing cackle which echoed through the mountains surrounding Minas Morgul.

Back at Gondor, Pippin stood there terrified at seeing Hela, the woman he came to admire as a sister figure suddenly become this raging, terrifying deity who didn’t seem to show any mercy.  The men had now been submitted to unspeakable torture thanks to Hela’s own magic.

They were all now writing in agony on the floor as it had felt like they were burning from the inside out.

“You tell me where he is now!?” with a flick upward of her wrist the men were now levitating upside down, the blood quickly rushing to their heads but they also felt their own hearts slowly stopping as Hela’s hand slowly closed into a fist.

“ALRIGHT WE’LL TELL YOU!!” proclaimed one of the other guards.

“YES WE’LL TELL YOU ANYTHING! PLEASE HAVE MERCY ON US!!” exclaimed another guard.  Hela put those two men down and as they let out a long gasp of air before coughing, they were suddenly dragged forward towards Hela and she gripped their throats and demanded.

“Talk.”

“Lord Perses suspected of an Elf being in this city. He had ordered all of us to be on the lookout and if we were to find it, we had to surrender it to them.”

“Haldir is not an IT!” Hela’s voice got low before growling menacingly as she squeezed the guard’s throat tightly.

“My apologizes my lady!” he choked out.

“Where did you take him?!” she growled.

“To Minas Morgul.” Said the other guard she had in her grasp.  “He said if we found the Elf, to take him there. We don’t know what they had planned for him there! We swear!” Hela released their throats and stood still.  As the men coughed and quickly ran as fast as they could away screaming in fear, Pippin looked up to Hela.

“Hela? A-are you—okay?” suddenly the ground began to shake.  The men Hela still had hanging upside down, had finally been released from their spell and called out a retreat.  The whole city soon began to shake as if an earthquake was about to bring the city to the ground.  Pippin turned to Hela to see her hands had clenched up so hard, that her knuckles not only grew white but blood was dripping from her palm.

Her hair began to raise up and wave like a banner and her eyes suddenly glew a pure white and she let out a scream.  Like when she had her ‘Celestial roar’ back during the Battle of the Five armies when Thorin betrayed her trust. 

However unlike before when her power was nulled, this time the full wrath of the Celestial’s roar could be heard.  And with Hela’s powers increased tenfold since then, it shook the entire kingdom of Gondor.

And when both men and orcs heard her scream, they thought at first it was a Nazgul scream however unlike theirs, it was more raw, more painful, and more angrier than theirs.  Everyone had no choice but to cover their ears less they wish to have their very ears explode off their face.

Her black magic began to surround her like a hurricane as she was lifted up into the sky.  Pippin held on for dear life as he watched in heartbreak and horror at Hela’s powers become erratic and unstable.  He let out a grunt as he tried to walk towards her through the powerful winds that her magic was bringing about. 

When he found her, he reached up and grabbed her ankle as her head immediately faced towards him, a contorted face of pure rage stared down at him, almost like she didn’t even recognize him.  But Pippin held firm as he pulled on her leg till she came down, when she came to her knees he immediately embraced her as tight as he could hoping that it would bring her out of this rageful state.

Then as quick as it had occurred, her magic vanished and all went still and quiet once again.  Hela’s glowing eyes reverted back to her normal eye color and said wept.

“It’s all my fault.”

“Go after him.” Hela turned to the young hobbit.  “I understand now. Back in Lothlorien, why you were away from us that whole time we were there. And what you had told Merry and I when we rested near those falls about your failed relationship. It was him wasn’t it? Haldir is the elf you love and still love.”

“I can’t go to Minas Morgul. That place it—they know that’s the one place I can never go to.”

“But you love him, and he loves you. Otherwise he wouldn’t have come back to you, right?” Pippin wiped away her fallen tears.  “A Celestial goes to where they are needed, and that right now is with Haldir. Go after him.” Hela embraced Pippin and he gave her a kiss on her cheek.  “I’ll find Gandalf, thanks to what you did you might’ve spared us some time. Not even Denethor could’ve ignored that.” Hela softly chuckled but then stood up and turned to Minas Morgul.  She shifted into Makkari’s armor and she quickly raced out of the city and ran towards Minas Morgul.

[whats-in-a-sentence]

We heard of the horns in the hills ringing,

the swords shining in the South-kingdom.

Steeds went striding to the Stoningland

as wind in the morning. War was kindled.

There Théoden fell, Thengling mighty,

to his golden halls and green pastures

in the Northern fields never returning,

high lord of the host. Harding and Guthláf,

Dúnhere and Déorwine, doughty Grimbold,

Herefara and Herubrand, Horn and Fastred,

fought and fell there in a far country:

in the Mounds of Mundburg under mould they lie

with their league-fellows, lords of Gondor.

Neither Hirluin the Fair to the hills by the sea,

nor Forlong the old to the flowering vales

ever, to Arnach, to his own country

returned in triumph; nor the tall bowmen,

Derufin and Duilin, to their dark waters,

meres of Morthond under mountain-shadows.

Death in the morning and at day's ending

lords took and lowly. Long now they sleep

under grass in Gondor by the Great River.

Grey now as tears, gleaming silver,

red then it rolled, roaring water:

foam dyed with blood flamed at sunset;

as beacons mountains burned at evening;

red fell the dew in Rammas Echor.

"The Lord of the Rings: The Return of the King" - J.R.R. Tolkien

[amazedbydevils]

All the tributes to Bernard Hill make me both extremely sad and extremely happy.

We heard of the horns in the hills ringing,

the swords shining in the South-kingdom.

Steeds went striding to the Stoningland

as wind in the morning. War was kindled.

There Théoden fell, Thengling mighty,

to his golden halls and green pastures

in the Northern fields never returning,

high lord of the host. Harding and Guthláf,

Dúnhere and Déorwine, doughty Grimbold,

Herefara and Herubrand, Horn and Fastred,

fought and fell there in a far country:

in the Mounds of Mundburg under mould they lie

with their league-fellows, lords of Gondor.

Neither Hirluin the Fair to the hills by the sea,

nor Forlong the old to the flowering vales

ever, to Arnach, to his own country

returned in triumph; nor the tall bowmen,

Derufin and Duilin, to their dark waters,

meres of Morthond under mountain-shadows.

Death in the morning and at day's ending

lords took and lowly. Long now they sleep

under grass in Gondor by the Great River.

Grey now as tears, gleaming silver,

red then it rolled, roaring water:

foam dyed with blood flamed at sunset;

as beacons mountains burned at evening;

red fell the dew in Rammas Echor.

-From The Battle of the Pelennor Fields, Chapter VI of The Return of the King

And no more despair.

REST IN PEACE BERNARD HILL (1944–2024)