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autistook · 6 months ago

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DAISIES - pt 19

Merry Brandybuck x fem!hobbit!reader / soft oc

Words: 5.4k

Summary: Minas Tirith is burning and you and Merry arrive on the battlefield. It's time to fight for your lives.

TW's: Blood, violence, death, near death, graphic descriptions, angst

AN: For more feels, re-read chapter 12 before this one ♡

PREVIOUS CHAPTER

It felt like every other step the horse took, a tree branch smacked you across the face. No matter how much you tried to dodge the twigs; another scratch formed on your skin. If you pressed your face down; there were leaves tickling the top of your head. Your small grunts of frustration could be heard by everyone who was riding their horses near you. Merry stretched his arm back a little to give your knee a supportive squeeze whenever he noticed any discomfort in you, but eventually even he got irritated by the tough path everyone was traveling through, and he too groaned whenever a branch made his skin sting.

There was still quite a bit of road ahead, but with the lead of King Théoden and some newly found unknown allies, you all took a more discreet route instead of traveling down the main road. Unfortunately, this meant difficult terrains and rough paths.

“Not much longer until we can rest,” Éowyn whispered in your ear. “Please try to hold on.”

“This is frustrating. I am all scratched up!” you complained quietly back to her.

“Just a little more,” Éowyn encouraged, slightly lowering her tone when she realized Merry was listening.

“Dernhelm, you can see her?” Merry asked quietly.

“Yes, Merry. Why do you ask?”

Merry tried to turn his head to see your face, but he could not move his body quite enough without discomfort.

“Would you please take a quick look at her scratches? I don't want her to get wounded,” he said. Your body felt like it went limp for a few seconds as a wave of affection rushed through you.

“Of course,” she said and called your name. She gently examined your face as Merry held the reins. After she made sure you were nothing more than a little scratched up, she spoke again. “She seems alright. Nothing to worry about, Merry.”

“Thank you,” Merry responded and squeezed your knee again. You pressed your cheek against his back and he could feel your affectionate smile even through his armor.

Your own armor had become more of a burden than useful. It was heavy on you and too big for your figure. You thought you would have gotten used to it by then, but every passing second it felt heavier, and you began considering tossing it aside completely.

You shifted your position, trying to get more comfortable and the clinking of the chainmail got the attention of a nearby rider.

“Getting heavy there?” he asked and you nodded, feeling more and more exhausted from holding the chainmail's weight. The man was maybe closer to the King in his age, and he had a few greys here and there in his beard. His green eyes seemed as desperate as any other soldier's, but behind the desperation, they seemed to be holding in a spark of hope and joy.

“Very much so,” you responded to the rider.

There was a silent agreement with everyone who had traveled near you to keep the presence of you and Merry quiet. They knew how important it was for you both to ride to war with them, so they helped to cover up for you the best they could and at times were even chit chatting you and Merry on the long, difficult road.

“You might still want to hold onto it,” he said quietly, but his tone was firm; almost commanding. As your eyes locked on his, you saw a hint of concern in them. It felt like he was reading your mind. He looked at you for a long time before resuming: “You don't want to get hurt out there. It's better for you to have some form of protection, little one.”

You gave him a tiny, wary nod. Your body was tired and you just wanted to rip off the heavy metal off your body.

Your thoughts kept circling back to the sense of relief losing the chainmail would bring, but every time you turned your head to the ground to see where you could possibly stop and get rid of it, the rider's eyes locked on yours and his firm gaze kept you in your senses. You needed the armor.

“I am going to pass out,” you whispered as the darkness surrounded all of you, the lack of rest consuming you, while everyone was riding onward slowly but securely.

“We'll get to rest soon,” Merry said, his tone heavy with worry. “Please, just hold on for a little more.”

“I can't stay awake,” you muttered, fighting a losing battle with your eyelids.

“You can sleep, just do not faint,” Éowyn said softly. She scooted closer to you and so did Merry, making you fit more securely between their bodies.

“Are you certain?” you asked, eyes already closed.

“Yes, sleep now. We will wake you when we come to a halt,” Éowyn said.

And with that, your head hit Merry's back, your cheek squished against his armor and your arms went limp around his waist. Merry took your arms in his lap and held you tightly, even though it made it significantly harder for him to keep his balance in check. He wanted to smile as he felt your warmth against him, but his mind and heart were consumed with worry for you and for his friends.

“Hey,” said Merry softly, as the tip of his finger was poking your thigh. You let out a disapproving grunt before he poked you again. Merry's voice was gentle and almost paternal. “I'm afraid you need to hop off the horse with us and get some proper sleep.”

You sat up straight and rubbed some of the sleep out of your eyes.

“What time is it?” you asked, yawning.

“Late,” Merry responded and hopped off the horse. As he landed on the ground, he reached up and took your hands in his, steadying you before helping you on the ground. His heart fluttered as he felt your delicate hands in his. “But we are almost out of the woods now. Back near the main road.”

“Is the ride long?” you asked as you started scanning for a place to lie down. Merry guided you down to a small secluded area away from the largest groups of riders.

“Not so long. We are closer to Minas Tirith than I would have thought,” Merry responded and sat you down, carefully keeping your sleepy body steady by the small of your back.

“How come?”

“You see that?” Merry asked and pointed through the trees, where in the distance was a small ball of fire.

“Is that Minas Tirith… on fire?” you asked, nearly panicking and Merry could not hold back a soft, amused chuckle.

“No, no. It is not. It's the hill of Amon Dîn and that is their beacon. At least according to Elfhelm.”

You nodded, half asleep and clueless.

“Of course,” you responded, trying to appear at least slightly awake and aware.

Merry sat down next to you and looked at you, his lips finally curling up into a wide smile. He admired how the soft light of a nearby campfire created dancing shadows on your face that made your eyelashes look even longer than they really were, and how your lips pursed slightly when you pressed your head on his lap. His heart skipped a beat when you cradled up into his lap, but almost instinctively he put his arm around your back and began stroking your hair to soothe you back to sleep.

“Dernhelm?” Merry asked quietly as Éowyn walked past.

“Yes?” she asked, smiling a little as she saw you curled up into a ball in Merry's lap. She found herself puffing her chest slightly when Merry looked her way, hoping it would somehow make her disguise as Dernhelm more believable to the young Hobbit.

“Is it far?”

Éowyn shook her head. Merry gave her a small nod before turning his gaze back to you. Éowyn observed you two for a few more seconds before walking away from you to get some rest, and to give you and Merry some privacy. Merry sighed and admired your sleepy, peaceful face. Your rosy cheeks were partly covered in faint scratches from the tree branches and he softly caressed his thumb over them. You let out a soft, quiet groan of disapproval.

“Is something wrong?” Merry asked.

“You stopped,” you mumbled back with a small pout.

“Stopped what?” Merry responded, confused, as he tried to analyze your face for any clues on your sudden disapproval.

“You stopped caressing my hair,” you pouted, barely aware. Merry's cheeks flushed from affection, and he immediately brushed a stray strand off your face and resumed combing through your hair delicately with his fingers.

“I'm sorry, my lady,” he whispered with a smirk. “It won't happen again.”

“Good,” you mumbled and gave him a tired, approving nod.

“You know,” Merry whispered after a while, caressing your curls and moving them behind your pointy ears. “You would look rather beautiful with a daisy behind your ear right now.”

He had a big smile on his face despite you not hearing him, as you had fallen into a deep sleep in his comforting embrace.

You flinched as the loud sound of the horn of Rohan reached your ears. Merry had fallen asleep with his arm on your back and the other one was still resting on the top of your head, likely left there from dozing off while caressing your hair.

“Merry?” you said, sitting up. Merry stirred and stretched his arms. His eyes were half-lidded, and he turned his head left and right, dazed from his deep sleep.

“Hm?” he mumbled.

“We need to keep going,” you said quietly.

“How long did we sleep for?” Merry asked, his voice low and heavy with tiredness. “I am still feeling exhausted.”

“Not long,” responded Éowyn with her low tone, still disguising herself in front of Merry. “A few hours at most.”

Merry nodded and stood up, stumbling on his tired feet. The chainmail on you felt heavy on your weary body, and Éowyn had to help you up on your feet.

“Are you sure you can–,” Merry started.

“Yes,” you responded, cutting him off mid sentence. Merry gave you an understanding nod, but his heart was in turmoil; in that moment he feared for your safety more than anything and a small part of him had hoped you would change your mind before arriving at Minas Tirith.

The horses were moving forward faster than before, and the sound of the horses galloping forth was filling the otherwise quiet air.

You narrowed your gaze and scrunched your nose. A nasty scent spread all around you and your stomach made a backflip.

Smoke.

“I smell smoke,” Merry stated quietly. You gripped his leather armor with your fist, slowly trembling as fear crept up your back. Merry tried his best to keep himself in check and seem courageous, but his fingers were shaking as you approached Minas Tirith.

Screams.

“Merry,” you whimpered quietly and reached for his hand. He instinctively searched for yours and squeezed it tight.

“I know,” he responded.

You closed your eyes and swallowed loudly. Your knees began to feel weak and it was not only the chainmail that was pulling your body down; fear was making your body limp, though the muscles on your arms tensed up. You opened your eyes as the horses began to slow down.

Flames and smoke.

You closed your eyes in an instant and let go of Merry's hand, wrapping your arms tightly around his waist again. Your heart was thumping in your chest, and Éowyn too could feel it as she was pressed against your back, her body tense from fear.

The sound of clashing swords. Screams of terror.

Your ears began to ring. Your body began to shut down, every other sound drowning away, but the sound of your own rapid heartbeat.

Thump.

Your ears perked up and your eyes flew open.

“Death! Death! Death!” everyone roared, their swords and spears in the air. You felt Merry raise his arm, his battle cry rumbling against your chest.

“Death!” Merry cried along with the many men and Éowyn. Your throat was too dry to make a sound. And then the horns blew again, seeding courage into the men of Rohan.

Slowly, led by Théoden King, the horses began to gallop, their speed growing faster and faster. From the distance you could see spears and arrows pointed towards your direction, each and every one of them held by orcs, each uglier and scarier than the other.

“Death!” roared Éowyn behind you and her sword swung through the air, taking an orc out swiftly.

Some men and horses fell down to your left, loud tumbling filling the air. Spears clashed against each other as the horses began running the orcs over, taking them down one by one.

To your right you saw a spear piercing through a horse's chest and an arrow taking down the soldier riding it.

Thump. Down.

You looked to your left and saw the rider, who had been so concerned for your safety, take a tumble with his horse, both crashing to the ground. As you looked over your shoulder at the man, there was no more hope or joy in his green eyes. There was nothing.

Another one down.

You clung to Merry more tightly and he was swinging his sword in every direction he could, as fast as his body allowed him to move. His heart was beating fast, distractingly fast, but his mind was set on protecting you at all cost.

You heard a roar from an orc, and before your brain had a chance to comprehend what was happening, your arm was already gripping your sword, pointing it towards the source of the roar and piercing the creature with a loud swoosh and splat.

Thump.

The orc was down.

Your eyes widened as you pulled back your sword and saw that it was covered in black blood. Your hand trembled as your head was filled with images of the orc lying on the ground all those months ago when you were protecting Rath with all the courage you could muster.

You could not move for a while. You held your sword with your right hand and with your left you clung to Merry, your knuckles turning white. All around you were the burdening sounds of war and death. The air smelled rotten and smokey, the chainmail on your body felt more heavy than before and your heart was beating so rapidly you feared it might burst out of your chest.

You looked up at the white city, the first layer of it burning, the front gate busted to dust. Loud cries of women, men, children and orcs were rumbling through the air, and in the sky you could see creatures that looked like they crawled out of your darkest nightmares; they looked like dragons, but much more terrifying and you could only describe them as an omen of death.

As one of them let out a screech far away, you instinctively felt the need to cover your ears to muffle the horrible sound that pierced your ears; the sound that felt like it emptied your soul. You let go of your sword and Merry and pressed your hands firmly on your ears. Your ears were quivering with fear and your hands were cold. You thought about the first time you had heard those cries; back in Buckland, when Merry, Frodo, Sam and Pippin had first left for their journey.

And you thought of your dear friend Pippin, who you knew was somewhere in the layered white city in front of you; the city that was starting to get covered in flames and death, and in your heart grew a fear that Pippin might not make it.

‘Poor Pippin!’ you thought. ‘Poor Frodo. and poor Sam! I wonder if they’re alive at all. Is there any hope left?’

Before you had time to give any more space to those thoughts, there was an almost deafening low rumble near your ears, announcing itself and its purpose to destroy.

Thump. Rough ground hit your back.

The horse that was just beneath you let out a loud whinny before getting crushed with a sound that you could never forget.

Éowyn screamed your name. She screamed Merry's name.

But there was no response from Merry; and no response from you. You were laying there in shock, overstimulated by all of the sounds and movements around you, fear darkening your vision and your back hurting severely from the fall.

‘Why is he not answering?’ you thought.

You sprung up on your feet and dodged a few horses that ran past you. Your eyes widened and your knees buckled as you saw a large oliphaunt, harnessed with red banners, charging towards your direction, making it clear it was what brought down the horse the three of you were riding. On top of the mûmakil were war towers, and on them spearmen and archers, each more terrifying than the other.

You stumbled to your left and the large creature stomped its way past you and towards other soldiers. Your breathing was ragged and your legs quivered in fear; you could not see Merry or Éowyn anywhere. All you could see was people facing their demise and the chaos that was surrounding them.

Your eyes scanned the battlefield relentlessly. There were splintering spears and clashing swords, enemies like you had never seen before, and many faces you had seen before - and many that you had not - laying lifeless on the ground, and around the field were spots of ground that were covered in black and red splatters of blood.

There was a round rumbling sound behind you and a crash so loud followed, that you felt your heart stop. Dust and sand spread in the air and blinded you for a moment.

You rubbed the specks of dust out of your eyes and when you opened them and turned around, you could see a large oliphaunt lying dead on the ground. For a split second it felt like Eru himself had laid protective arms over you, for you could not comprehend how you got so lucky the oliphaunt did not crush you to death.

You turned around again, desperately seeking for Merry with your gaze.

“Merry!” you yelled, your voice raspy and faint from the fear in your heart and the dust in your lungs. “Merry!”

Your eyes widened as you saw an orc sprinting towards you. Its eyes were wide and green, with vertically slit pupils that it used to pierce right to your very soul. The orc's body looked like it was thrown in a bath of boiling water with sugar, and then thrown into a puddle of mud afterwards. As the enemy charged towards you, your knees buckled again. You took a few quick steps back and landed on your back, having stumbled on something.

You could not believe your luck. It was your own sword you had dropped a moment before when you fell off the horse.

The orc screamed in a high-pitched tone before your sword cut its cries short, piercing through the orcs throat and making it fall limp on the ground next to you, a gurgling noise coming out of its mouth.

Your stomach twisted from the sound and you felt sick; but this was not the time to stay there and linger in dread.

You sat up as straight as you could, wincing as you started to climb back on your feet. Your heavy armor kept pulling you towards the ground and it limited your ability to stand up, let alone fight. Your heart beat rapidly in your chest.

“Screw this,” you muttered to yourself in desperation.

Your palms and fingers hurt from pulling the chainmail off, but the second it hit the ground with a clang and a thump, you felt lighter and less fearful. Moving was easier and very swiftly you made it to your feet, the ground steady beneath you.

“Merry!” you screamed again. No response.

You saw a glimpse of a helmet you thought might have been Éowyn's, so without a second thought, you were already running.

Another cry from an orc caught your ears as it ran towards you, but swiftly you took it down, its legs giving up under your quick reaction time and the pierce of your sword. Your feet pattered on the ground and the wind howled in your ears. You called Merry's name and you called Éowyn's, but there was no answer. And she was nowhere to be seen anymore. But you kept running.

It was quick. Suddenly you were at the grumbled gate of Minas Tirith, dodging arrows and crawling by people's feet. It was one of those moments when you felt glad about your small size; you mostly tended to go unnoticed past the enemies, and the ones that saw you, fell to the ground fast.

The stone beneath your feet would have been cold to touch, had it not been taken over by the battle and Sauron's army. Now the lower streets of Minas Tirith were hot and burning, the smoke making it hard to see forth and forcing you to keep crawling at times in order to move forward.

“Merry!” you called out again, but all you could hear were unnatural sounds from orcs and trolls, the screams of dying soldiers and the cries of helpless people, forced to face their doom.

You ran up a street, not seeing two feet in front of you. Your fingers crossed you went forward, hoping to find Merry, Éowyn - or even Pippin; anyone who could give you comfort and a sense of security. And more than anything, you needed to see they were alright.

The smoke was making you cough uncontrollably and your eyes were stinging and watering. Finally you stepped on stone that felt a little cooler than the others as you made your way closer to the next level of the city.

You gasped for air as you finally pushed through the smoke and made your way above it, onto a platform. You looked around through a misty vision and tried to search for any familiar faces through your growing desperation, but it was no use.

Nipping pain.

Merry was crawling on all fours, eyes closed and his body trembling in fear. His mind was set on finding you, but he could not get his body to respond. The large shadow passing over him felt too overwhelming and both his head and body refused to follow his orders.

And then he heard a strange noise. A high-pitched, almost proud laughter.

“No living man am I!”

As he opened his eyes, he saw her. There was Éowyn, her hair golden and her eyes sparkling with bravery, yet grim with an acceptance of death.

In front of her stood the Witch-King, large, terrifying and dark, and he made Merry's blood cold. He was standing there, speechless as in front of him stood a woman, threatening to smite him if he laid his hands upon what Éowyn held the dearest; King Théoden.

The black figure swung his flail at Éowyn, and though many she dodged, one stroke fell on her shield and splintered it, along with it her arm.

Merry's heart was full of pity, fear and determination. He could not allow her to die, not alone. She meant a lot to him; and even more to you. He thought of you and how much you meant to him; how much he hoped you were alright; and how much he hoped you would forgive him, for he was certain he was now facing the end.

He crawled quietly behind the dark figure, lifted his blade and struck.

With a deafening screech the Witch-King crumbled down to his knees and Merry's right arm fell cold.

“Éowyn! Éowyn!” Merry cried, and the shieldmaiden pierced the enemy with her sword. The Witch-King of Angmar withered before them and all that was left was an empty helmet and cloak.

Éowyn fell unconscious before Merry, and he did not know if she had died. Whether or not, in front of him was also lying Théoden King, death in his eyes and blood on his mouth. Merry crawled up to him, to the man who he had started to see as a father, tears in his eyes, his gaze darting between the King and the pale, unconscious shieldmaiden of Rohan.

You looked to your right and the orc lifted its sword again. You swung your own weapon so quickly the orc did not have time to defend, and with a loud crash it fell through rubble and onto the street below you.

You touched your lower belly and winced. Something did not feel right.

The cries had quieted down. Some of the most courageous ones were still fighting, but many enemies had either retreated or had been slain. Many soldiers, good and bad, were lying dead on the battlefield and the streets of Minas Tirith.

Merry did not look at them. All he could do was try and stay awake; his arm had gone numb and cold, his eyes were misty and his brain was in an overdrive. Were you hurt? Was Éowyn dead? Were Pippin, Boromir and Gandalf safe inside the walls of Minas Tirith? Or was everything lost?

He was following other people who carried the King and Éowyn towards the upper levels of the city, but at some point he absent mindedly made a turn to an alley, where to his surprise and joy, he ran into Pippin.

“Merry! Thank goodness I've found you!” Pippin said, his heart lighter and his eyes lighting up from relief. He was wearing a black armor, decorated by the white tree of Gondor.

“Pippin?” Merry asked, tears in his eyes.

Merry stumbled into his arms, hugging him with his working arm as tight as he could and Pippin helped him to sit down.

“Gandalf sent me to look for you when you didn't arrive with the others. I am so glad to see you again!” Pippin said, hugging him tightly. He pulled back slightly and looked at him, worried. “But are you hurt? Are you wounded?”

“No,” Merry stammered. “Maybe. I can't feel my arm. I can't use it at all. Not since… Where… where is she? It's all going dark again, help me, Pippin!”

“It's alright,” Pippin reassured and put one of his arms around Merry, lifting him up on his feet. “Come now! Foot by foot. It's not far.”

“Are you going to bury me?”

Pippin's heart filled with pity and fear.

“No, Merry. I'm going to look after you. We are going to the houses of healing.”

They walked the streets of Minas Tirith together and Pippin quietly listened to Merry, who was mumbling to himself; mostly mumbling your name. Pippin’s heart twisted and stomach turned. ‘Poor Merry,’ he thought. ‘Still feeling burdened from leaving her behind.’

“Pippin!” shouted Boromir as the two came to his view and he quickly ran towards the Hobbits. He kneeled in front of Merry and touched his cheek gently, trying to get eye contact with him. “Merry, can you hear me?”

Merry did not respond vocally, but he lifted his gaze to Boromir. He felt the urge to smile, but he felt too weak to do so. Merry had missed him dearly; like a big brother he was, but his arm was burdening him and it felt like death was trying to claim him.

And suddenly Pippin pat Merry's shoulder.

“Merry?” Pippin asked in distress and shock. Merry looked at Pippin and turned his gaze to the direction his friend was gesturing at.

Merry’s stomach turned and a surge of adrenaline pumped through his veins. He sprinted off of Pippin's and Boromir's grasps.

“Merry!” Boromir called out and before he had time to do anything, Pippin was running after Merry.

Merry knelt beside you and with his uninjured arm he lifted your head on his lap.

“No, no,” Merry mumbled, his heart shattering at the sight. When he got your head comfortably on his lap he reached his hand on your wound, blocking the bleeding the best he could. “It's alright. You're alright.”

“Merry,” you gasped through your tears. “Please, help me.”

“You're alright,” Merry said, visibly panicking. Pippin knelt down on your other side, looking at the blood leaking out of your stomach, his eyes widening in horror. He thought you were safely in Buckland.

“Boromir!” Pippin called. Boromir made his way beside you and he too kneeled down, a confused look on his face.

“Who is–”

“Help her!” Pippin begged. Boromir nodded and ripped a part of his cloak off, pressing it on your wound to slow down the bleeding. You winced from pain and more tears poured from your eyes.

“You're alright,” Merry repeated. He couldn't manage to say anything else; he needed to reassure you and himself. “You're alright.”

“I'm going to die,” you sobbed, gasping for air, while your brain was fuzzy from the shock and your ears ringing from the pain. Your fingers were cold in Pippin’s hands as he held to you, trying his best to provide some comfort.

“You're not going to die,” Merry said, his voice cracking. He put his hand on your cheek, firmly, but with care. He gazed into your eyes with a stern look. “You're not allowed to die.”

You nodded, though your vision was growing more blurry. You looked up at the sky and noticed there was a twinkling, bright star showing for the first time in what seemed like an eternity. A small smile crept up on the corner of your mouth as you gazed at the sky above, gasping for air again, your chest heaving raggedly.

“I've heard much about you, Miss Baggins,” Boromir said suddenly, trying to soothe down your nerves, hoping to calm Merry and Pippin down in the process.

You chuckled through your tears of pain and fear. “And I of you. Boromir, son of Denethor, I presume?”

“What gave it away?” he asked with a soft smile.

“You look like a true soldier,” you responded. His smile would have comforted you, but you could see it in his eyes; he was certain you were dying. You looked back up at the sky, your heart pounding faster from fear.

“You're alright,” Merry said again, his voice cracking from dread. He turned to look at Pippin and Boromir. “Is… is there… she needs help,” he stuttered, tears in his eyes.

“Gandalf is coming,” Boromir said, but his tone was not reassuring. “He said he would follow me right behind.”

Merry nodded, trying to find relief in Boromir's words, but as he looked back into your eyes, his relief was long gone and he began to feel hopeless.

“You're alright,” he said again.

“Merry,” you stuttered, tears falling from your eyes as you whimpered in pain. Boromir pressed your wound harder and you let out a loud cry of pain. “Merry, I'm going to die. And I….I…”

“You’re not going to die,” he said, his tone desperate and his last bit of bravery crumbling. He had now forgotten about his own pain completely, his mind consumed by looming grief.

“I…”

“I know. You're alright,” Merry said and ran his hand through your hair tenderly, his eyes wet and his gaze pleading desperately. “You're not going to die."

You swallowed as your vision started to blur more.

“I don't want to die,” you said, your voice barely a whisper now. Merry let out a sob. Pippin closed his eyes, crying silently, his heart growing heavy with fear.

“You're not going to die,” he said, lips quivering. He moved his hand to caress your cheek again. “I promised Frodo I would keep you safe.”

You tried to get a word out, but your mouth had gone dry and it took all of your strength just to stay awake. You focused your gaze solely on Merry, and you squeezed Pippin's hand weakly. Your ears were ringing loudly.

“Boromir, do something!” Pippin weeped, and Merry's fingers trembled on your cheek. Boromir kept pressing the wound; it was all he could do.

“You can't leave me,” Merry whispered through tears. You said nothing as your vision grew more hazy and your grip on Pippin's hand weakened. Pippin looked at Merry, falling apart, trying to hold your hand harder, hoping it would somehow give you enough strength.

“Merry!” Pippin panicked.

“Please, don't go,” Merry begged in despair and held your cheek more firmly, caressing it lovingly. “Please. Don't leave me. I need you here. You can't… you can't leave me behind. Please, don't go.”

Your ears stopped ringing and everything went black.

NEXT CHAPTER

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@chatteringfox @shiinata-library @ahobbitsjourney23 @mayo-advance @datglutengoblin @mournthewicked @channiesbedbug @nicksworld0715

#daisies #lotr merry #merry x reader #merry x oc #merry lotr #merry brandybuck #merry and pippin #lotr fic #lotr fanfic #lotr #lord of the rings #the lord of the rings #tolkien #middle earth #meriadoc x reader

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mirkwoodshewolf · 3 days ago

Text

IATCOD Chap. 29; Battle against Pestilence

*Author's note*

Okay so this one really took some time but I appreciate the likes and love this story is still getting :) Work and writer's block really affected me writing this but over the Christmas break I was able to sit down and really focus my sights on this story here and I hope you all enjoy this little New Year treat.

Taglist:

@plethora-of-things

@jd-johndeacon-or-jackdaniels

@waddles03

@queen-paladin

@psychosupernatural

@thats-s0-ravenn

@remussl0vers

NEXT CHAPTER

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Druig, Hela and Merry continued to fly onward and just as they passed through the clouds and began to descend, Druig then came upon a sight that he never thought he’d see ever again in his lifetime.

“It—it cannot be.” He said bewildered with wide eyes.

“It can’t be what?” asked Merry.

“It’s our home.”

“Your home? But Hela never once mentioned she had a home to settle in. She had told us that you all lived a nomadic life. Like some of our ancestors did before settling in the Shire.”

“She’s not half wrong. We did live a nomadic life for a long time. But growing up, we did have a home far to the East of the great desert of Rhun. Before those now called the Easterlings would make their home there, the Celestials made their home in those lands.” As Druig looked down at the grand castle of marble and stone, all the feelings of nostalgia came at him like a wave.

But he was surprised of how Hela could remember every single detail of this castle. He—he had to make her forget it after it had happened.

Icarus and Hela both swooped down before finally landing on one of the upper balconies and Hela’s Starlight armor dispersed leaving her in the same dress she had on earlier.

“Well let’s hurry before Kingo decides to burn the whole kitchen again.” Hela said as she walked past the throne room. Druig and Merry slid off of Icarus’ back and he took off flying with a proud screech. Druig looked around and remembered how in their youth, he, Makkari and Hela would stand by Mother’s side by that very golden throne with each of their elder siblings standing along the stairway that lead to it as the Celestials would take council with all the Great leaders of each race of Middle Earth who needed their guidance or wisdom.

The rectangular fountain that cut through the middle of the throne room made Druig think of the great Anduin river as it’s crystal clear waters sparkled in the sunlight. Grand statues sculpted by Phastos and his siblings of creation of the greatest and most memorable Celestials were placed all over the grand throne room. Each level leading all the way up to the grand roof had a statue of a Celestial that were either still around and made a great change to Middle Earth, or those who had died with nobility and honor defending their homeland.

“I had almost forgotten but being here it brings it all back. The sound of the fountains water ripples, the fresh breeze that would come from this very balcony, and feel of the cold marble from each statue that stands in this very hallway.” Druig said in a solemn tone.

“Lord Druig?” Merry spoke up as he noticed how Druig was starting to fall under the spell as he stood in front of his mother’s throne. “Druig!” Druig snapped out of it and turned to the young halfling. “Remember what King Theoden said. This illusion has the power to affect us too if we allowed it. I understand you must miss your home, but we’re the only ones who are able to help Hela.”

“You’re right.” Druig said. “The others won’t survive if we take too long. Come, let’s keep playing along for now and see what plays out.”

“Do you have a plan yet on how to disrupt the spell?”

“I’m working on it. But I need to get a feeling on how much I can affect in her head with this spell. I’ll have to keep it subtle, if I try too hard I could end up doing severe damage to her psyche.” Merry nodded and the two of them walked out of the throne room and soon wound up in the kitchen.

The kitchen was in chaos with so much flour scattered all over the floors. Dough had reached up onto the high shelves almost as if an explosion had happened and various pots and measuring cups covered the entire tabletops.

“Kingo how many times do we have to tell you that you don’t belong in the kitchen? Must I get Phastos to reiterate that lesson?” Hela asked their big brother.

“Blame Maui and Persephone, they were the ones screwing around with the measurements for the cake.” Kingo tried to reason with.

“Only because Maui wasn’t measuring the flour correctly!” Persephone proclaimed pointing at Maui.

“I would’ve done the correct measurements if Persephone hadn’t been hovering over me like a fly. That’s my job! Plus she started it with hogging the eggs!” Maui argued.

The two youngest Celestials went face to face growling at each other but Hela got in between them and stopped their fighting.

“Enough! You’re all to blame for the mess. Now all three of you clean this mess up before Phastos gets back from Eregion. And he won’t appreciate coming home to see his kitchen in such disarray.”

“She’s right. Maui you start by cleaning up the flour, Persephone you handle to pots and cups, I’ll supervise everything else.” Kingo clapped his hands.

“Actually Kingo, you can clean the dough that’s plastered all over the shelves. You are the tallest one out of you three.” Hela suggested.

“What?!”

“Yeah Kingo.” Mocked Maui.

“Get to it tall guy.” Teased Persephone.

“I don’t understand why I should be cleaning the kitchen when I didn’t even do anything this time.”

“Just do what she says Kingo.” Druig said.

“I don’t need a lecture from you Druig, besides I’m the oldest so what I say—” Druig’s eyes glowed pure gold and Kingo stopped speaking as his eyes went the same golden color and he went to cleaning up the dough from the shelves without another word.

Merry stood in awe at Druig’s ability to control people without a second thought but he was also intimidated by it. Hela did once say that the mind is both a powerful ally or your greatest enemy. And the fact that her twin brother could merely reach in and control you frightened him as a young halfling.

“You know you didn’t have to do all that Druig.” Hela whispered to him.

“Where’s your sense of humor my sweet Hela?” Druig teased. “Besides Kingo needs to be taken down a peg or two every now and then. Gaslighting his way out of trouble when you know he’s been behind the act in question.”

“True but it’s still wrong to force your will over someone else’s.” the look in her eyes made Druig’s heart ache in regret.

What he’s had to do to Hela in the past when Sauron began to fully rise to power during the Second Age made him feel queasy. And knowing what he had to do to free her almost made him want to give up the mission and allow her this chance at happiness after seeing her suffer through so much this past Age.

Hela gave Druig a pat on the shoulder before leaving them. Merry turned to Druig and the Mind Celestial said.

“I know what you’re thinking. That was another test. I was always reckless with my mind powers. I once even believed that I could control every race in Middle Earth all at once. Elves, Men, Dwarves, even the orcs. I could get rid of whatever I didn’t like of them. Their stubbornness, their greed, prejudice, their lust for blood and war. All gone. But seeing the world through Hela’s eyes through my stone I realized that without those qualities, none of them could ever truly Be.”

Merry’s eyes softened at Druig’s statement and a small smile came across his face.

“C’mon. Let’s see what else you can manage here.” Druig looked down at the young hobbit and wrapped an arm over his shoulder and guided him out of the kitchen.

Back in the physical world at the docks where the Corsair pirates were supposed to meet up with the orcs before Aragorn and the others highjacked their ships thanks to the Army of the dead. The skies seemed to grow darker as more red thunder flashed through the sky but this time it began to strike down near the shores.

Flash after flash of red lightning came down from the sky until the sea itself was struck with such a blast that it split the sea. A large whirlpool started up at the center of the sea creating a gaping vortex that now revealed the cage where Hela had imprisoned the Deviants.

The runes she had made burned into the sand in a large circle as well as a five pointed star in the middle of the circle. Two more outer circles surrounded the main circle as more runes appeared written within the lines of each circle. It was then fiery eyes began to appear from within the circle as the sounds of roars, snarls and growls sounded off deep from the earth.

Levitating above the sea in a three point triangle were Deimos, Perses and Nergal. Their eyes reflected off of the glowing circle that lie just beneath them.

“SAURON’S PETS! DEVIANTS! LOOK AT YOU AND YOUR SQUALLY PRISON! WHO PUT YOU DOWN THERE!?” proclaimed Nergal.

‘HELA!!’ their animalistic sounds almost seemed to speak out Hela’s name. The three Celestials of Death’s hands began to glow in their respected colors and Perses proclaimed.

“AND NOW THAT WE SET YOU FREE!” their powers shot down at the main points of the seal keeping the Deviants prisoned. Red, Black and Green fought against the Grey colored seal which shot right back at the three Celestials of Death trying to fight back. “YOU SHALL CONTINUE WHAT YOU WERE MEANT TO DO!!”

Soon the grey seal dulled and the runes dissolved into thin air. The earth and the sea began to rumble as it then shot upward and a large shadow of a dragon was the first to fly up into the sky roaring loudly. Hundreds of other flying Deviants soon followed after the Great beast, the sea then split further up towards the shore as the rest of the Deviants began racing out onto the land.

“And the fun begins.” Smirked Deimos. “STRIKE ALL THAT COMES TO YOUR PATH. MEN, ELVES, DWARVES, HOBBITS, THEY ALL HOLD CELESTIAL ENERGY. FEAST!!!” Deimos then declared.

The Deviants all let out a roar as the flying beasts took off towards the North while the land-based beasts raced towards the nearest settlement, Gondor.

“There will be no place left for anyone to hide.” Perses spoke before cackling sinisterly with an evil look to his eye.

“And who’s to say they should have all the fun?” Deimos proposed as he and Nergal eyed each other. Nergal then flew towards Gondor while Deimos headed further North towards Erebor and Dale to first quench his bloodlust before dealing with Cain as he promised.

Perses then turned towards the Great Beast who stood as large as one of the elder dragons of Middle Earth from the 1st Age. The Great serpent-like beast turned its attention to Perses and he said.

“Our Master has a special plan for us, my Sister.” The Great beast bellowed lowly as it’s great head lowered down before Perses and he extended his hand outward to touch it’s large, shadowy snout.

At Gondor, Cain let out a gasp as he stood in the throne room. The Fellowship and Eomer turned towards the mortal Celestial and Legolas asked.

“Cain what is it?”

“Can’t you hear it? They are here.” Legolas then stood frozen as he turned towards the balcony and his eyes widened in fear. The men all went to the balcony and from the distance, a rise of shadows was charging head on towards the White city. The haunting roars and terrifying snarls echoed through the air.

“Gandalf and Faramir better have found a way to bring about this seal of protection! We’re out of time!” Eomer said tensely.

“Come on Gandalf.” Aragorn whispered. Just when it seemed that they were breach past the borders of Osgiliath, a bright light rumbled through the stone and marble of the entire city. It shot out across the earth between the White city and it’s defense and soon a barrier started forming around all sides of the city.

The deviants that were close enough to the borders of Osgiliath were suddenly flung backwards which such magical force it knocked them unconscious. The Deviants tried all sides of the city but no matter where they tried, they just couldn’t break through the shield’s defense.

“Bless you Gandalf.” Praised Gimli as he fell to his knees.

“It’s bought us time. But they won’t just surrender. Deviants are known to sit and wait till the time is right to strike. And this is only a small portion of the numbers that await us.” Cain said as he walked away from the others.

“Cain, you besides Hela would know everything there is to know about these beasts. What do we need to know that we don’t already know?” asked Aragorn as he stood next to Hela’s brother.

“As the legends state, no living mortal weapons can defeat these beasts. Only weapons forged by Celestial magic can injury these creatures. But I’m afraid you must also learn that some of them have unique abilities.”

“What do you mean unique abilities?” asked Pippin.

“There are three species of Deviants. The first are the normal beasts that grow no bigger than your average horse. But they are the ones that have the ability to turn you to stone. The second leveled Deviants are the flyers. While having the same ability to turn living creatures to stone they’ve also been known to gain the powers of our Celestial kin.”

“Durin’s beard.” Gimli whispered fearfully.

“It was as much of a surprise to my kin. When I had heard some of my starlight brothers going against some of them in the Misty mountains to defend and aid the Illusional celestials. They were shocked to see how some of them were air bending or breathing out fire like dragons.”

“And what of the third deviant beast?” asked Eomer.

“I pray that we don’t come across this one. Sauron once called it the Great Leviathan. A beast said to be almost as big as Ancalagon himself. She was the very first deviant to ever exist and all the Deviants came from her. Constantly spurting out newborns each time she feels her children feasting. In fact it was her arrival that decimated our homeland and killed more than half of all mine and Hela’s siblings. If she makes an appearance, Vadar help us all.”

“Then let’s take the time that we’ve been given and work out a strategy. Hopefully Druig and Merry can awaken Hela before anymore Deviants arrive.” Aragorn said.

“Hope.” Echoed Nergal’s voice through the halls of the throne room. “It’s the one thing about humanity and mortality that I never understood. Even in the face of despair and at the brink of death, you mortals always cling onto that last fleeting, shimmering glimpse of hope that is said to be on the horizon.” A green mist soon seeped from the upper walls and down to the ground forming Nergal’s body.

Once his body fully manifested into the throne room, the apothecary robes that he had once worn had now been transformed into his true Celestial of Death uniform. A long black tunic that hugged his body but at the ends of his robes, they were torn and ripped apart but in a manner like the material had been rotting away for centuries. Around his neck he wore a silver necklace with center piece in the shape of a crow’s skull.

But what caught the Fellowship by surprise was the color of his skin to now be faded and grey like he had been sleeping near the cinders from a fireplace. His once rich and healthy hair now appeared sleek and greasy as strands of it stuck over his face, his eyes now sunken in almost as if he had been kissed by Death itself.

“Every one of our siblings had a distinct power that set us apart from our chosen Celestial names.” Started Cain. “Based on what Faramir told us, my guess is that you represent Pestilence that is associated with death.”

“You are indeed the most clever Celestial brother Cain. No wonder Sauron wanted you for his army.” Nergal praised with a mocking grin.

“Even in my wrathful rage, I would rather have myself be hanged in the gallows than join forces with Morgoth’s lacky.” Sneered Cain.

“And such spirit. Now I know where Hela got hers from. She was indeed a worthy opponent, too bad she was still too weak to finish us off. Her beloved elven lover, that was her weakness. Had she truly let her feelings go, she would’ve had the chance to kill us.”

“Lady Hela has more humanity in one finger than any one of you in your entire body!” snarled Gimli gripping his axe. Legolas placed a hand to Gimli’s shoulder both calming him down but also trying to ease his own anger as he glared at the Celestial before him.

“Morality. Is weakness. That’s what got her trapped and allowed us to bring forth the Deviants.”

“Then why not take down the shield yourself? Being a Celestial of Death surely you must know how to take it down. Or did you underestimate the first Celestial of Death’s knowledge of such a spell?” Aragorn challenged.

“The one thing I will praise her is a knowledge of such a spell. Creating a spell out of an ancient Elven incantation. But it matters not in the end. All spells have their weakness, but it’s not my job to find that out. Plus I’d prefer to see you all wriggle like worms on a hook waiting for the inevitable.” Nergal smirked wickedly.

“Then what have you come to seek?” asked Legolas.

“As Cain said; we each do represent a degree of Death itself. I being the Celestial of Pestilence seek out to cause nothing but sickness and plaques. However my power is limited to just how far I can spread such a contamination. But there is a gem just powerful enough to give me the enhancement that I need.”

“You wish to gain the power of my mother’s Celestial gemstone.” Cain exclaimed aghast.

“And the first victim I’ll be targeting is that foolish hobbit who took the Mind stone. Don’t think we didn’t know of your plan to try and save Hela’s mind from my death spell and since Hela’s little elvish guard dog is there, perhaps it’s time for a little rematch.”

“If you want to get to him, you’ll have to kill me first!” Cain growled.

“Killing you is reserved for someone else, but I’ll gladly take the gems I know you carry in your pocket. I knew Hela would trust the most powerful of our kins stones to the Last of the Starlights.”

“Believe me when I tell you this Nergal the Malicious,” Cain withdrew his sword giving it a twirl before having it extended downward much like King Thranduil always had his swords be an extension of his being, “You. Are no brother of mine.”

“And if you want Cain, you’ll have to fight me too.” Aragorn said as he withdrew Andúril from his sheath, Legolas knocked an arrow into his bow and Gimli gripped his axe tighter as they too stood beside Cain. Even Eomer and Pippin also withdrew their swords and stood on the other side of Aragorn.

“You’ll have to take down all of us, Plaque bringer.” Gimli snarled defensively.

“You all made this fight too easy.” Nergal spoke softly as he secretly started up another poison green gas bomb like he did back at Minas Morgul. But before he could make his attack, a bright light shot at him diffusing his spell and sending him rolling across the floor.

“If it is as easy as you claim, then why not include two more into this fight?” Gandalf’s voice spoke up. Everyone turned to see both Gandalf and Faramir now standing by the main doors of the throne room, Faramir holding his bow in hand.

“And this is a fight I’ve been waiting my whole life for.”

“Then you best give me all you got, boy.” Nergal eyed each and every one of his upcoming opponents and waited for the first attack to come to him which came once both Faramir and Legolas released their arrows on either side of Nergal.

But the Celestial of Pestilence leapt between both arrows before summoning out his soul strings to try and ensnare everyone under his command but everyone managed to avoid getting caught in Nergal’s puppet strings. Pippin and Gimli came in with their weapons but Nergal managed to drop kick Gimli’s axe down while he blocked Pippin’s sword with his own blade.

When Pippin recognized the blade as a Morgul blade, his eyes widened and he managed to just barely to dodge Nergal’s counter attack by the width of his curly hair. Nergal once again flipped over and landed on top of the King’s throne as his Morgul blade extended about as long as Aragorn’s sword. His soulless golden eyes now gleaming with desire and pride.

Up on the White tower, Haldir could hear the sounds of a battle happening in the throne room. He saw a flash of familiar green magic and knew right away that Nergal was within the city of Men. His blood boiled in rage as he clenched Aeglos to the point where his knuckles were turning white.

He turned towards Hela and Merry and saw how Merry’s hands still glowed with Druig’s magic and his eyes were still the bright golden lights encompassing his entire eye balls. He then turned towards the barrier shield that was keeping the Deviants out and saw how they were now just sitting and waiting for the moment to strike.

“I hope you can forgive me, meleth nin. But I must do this. For you.” He walked out of the room and proceeded down the stairs his eyes filled with hatred and a desire for vengeance at the being who took his beloved away from him.

Back in Hela’s prison, Druig and Merry continued to help out anyone they could to keep up the rouse that Hela had built for herself and soon enough by sundown a grand Midsummer’s Eve festival had officially begun.

There was beautiful music, dancing, grand feasts and the best served wine and ale spread out through miles and miles of tables. Druig and Merry watched as Hela and Haldir were dancing together much like they had back at Rohan after the victory at Helm’s Deep.

“Having a Celestial for a partner is a commitment that not everyone can accept.” Druig said. Merry looked up at him as he continued, “Not only would they have to accept that Middle Earth comes first whenever we are called to defend it, but also there is little to no chance of your bloodline continuing. Not unless we give up our immortality first.”

“Cain said he had done it willingly when he met his Yvanne. And even for as little of time he got to spend with his family, he said it was worth every second of it. Seeing his children grow up, being with the woman he loved.”

“A Celestial’s love story always ends in tragedy Merry. It did for Cain, it will for Thena once she knows the truth, as well as many brothers and sisters long before my time.”

“But if a love is worth fighting for, the tragedy is only part of the story.” Druig looked down at the young hobbit. “Now I may not have known why she did it at the time, but Hela always stroked her left wrist almost as if she were checking if something was there. And whenever she realized there wasn’t, she always became sad. Being on this quest and getting to Lothlorien to see the reason why she was sad, it all became clear. When Haldir offered to go with Hela to Gondor after Pippin had touched the Palantir, I saw a glimmer of his feelings still there for her. And even now with him guarding over both our bodies, their love is unlike any I had ever read or had been told as a child. Their story can end up this happy like she wants it to be, but she must understand that life must happen first and that she’s the only one who can help us out there.”

“Never did I think I’d hear more wiser words from someone other than my brothers Phastos and Apollo. If not for my powers accepting you, you’d make an impressive Celestial of Inspiration.”

“Both Hela’s and Bilbo’s war stories had a hand on how I try to view the world. Not as a one shade of color but how it could be.” Druig looked out towards the illusion of Hela and Haldir as they finished their dance and kissed each other as he saw all of his siblings applaud their dance.

“I’ve figured a way how to break this illusion. But it requires returning a memory I took from Hela.”

“What memory was that?”

“It’s better if you see for yourself Merry. Even I have a hard time remembering that day. It was the day that changed the lives of the Celestials forever.” Druig looked up towards the orange-pink sky and raised his hand high up as his eyes glowed a pure bright gold, encompassing his entire eyeballs as the sky began to spark with golden flashes of lightning. “Be warned Merry, what you are about to see….is unlike anything you have seen in this war.”

Back in the physical world; Gimli, Eomer, Faramir, Pippin, Legolas, Gandalf and Aragorn were all sprawled out in various spots throughout the throne room. Their bodies bruised and bloodied some were even knocked unconscious just barely breathing from their fight with Nergal. The only left standing against Nergal was Cain but even he was bruised and bloodied. His left brow seeping out blood down the left side of his face after being thrown towards one of the pillars in the throne room.

His legs now starting to shake as he could barely stand while he kept a firm grip on his weapon and his breathing was deep and harsh with each grunted pant. Nergal merely stood there not a single scratch on him and a look of arrogance as he stared at Cain but held no other expression on his face.

“I’d expect more from the great Fellowship much less an exiled Celestial but look at you all now. Barely able to stand.” Mocked Nergal.

“Be thankful I don’t have my Celestial powers. There’s a reason why I was the first.” Panted Cain.

“And you threw it all away for love.” Nergal sneered out the word love. “Love made you weak Cain the Wrathful. Your pathetic excuse of a sister was proof of that!” Cain let out a low growl before the two Celestials charged at each other, their blades clashing together with loud clanks. Cain pushed Nergal back with each strike he made, forcing the Celestial of Death to back up until Nergal got the advantage and stopped his attack before levitating in the air to push Cain back. Letting out an almost animalistic hiss as Cain started to feel the an affect similar to the Black Breath overcome his senses.

He tried to hold firm but with a slight change of his foot pivoting inward, that gave Nergal the advantage he needed to uncross their weapons and send a kick right into his chest sending Cain flying and landing right onto his back with a hard thud. Nergal snickered lowly before levitating towards Cain spinning his sword in a deadly manner before it suddenly became two dual swords coming down at Cain.

Using his own sword all Cain could do was block each deadly overhand chop that came down his way but the affect of Nergal’s own black breath was starting to take its effect on Cain’s body weakening him and throwing his senses off. His arms could barely hold his own weapon as with a final undercut swing, Nergal had disarmed the former Celestial of Starlight.

“Mr. Cain!” cried Pippin. Now exhausted and paralyzed from the black breath of Nergal, Cain could only lay there on his back trying to regain his remaining senses but it all proved to be in vain. Nergal pressed his foot to neck and raised his sword up.

“It’s time we put an end to this.” Suddenly a spear was pierced right through Nergal’s stomach and he was lifted up into the air by none other than Haldir using Aeglos. The Marchwarden of Lorien then tossed Nergal off Aeglos’ blade sending him out towards the outer courtyard where the Tree of the Kings stood. Haldir followed behind Nergal with a dark look in his hazel blue eyes.

Nergal groaned at his stood up and allowed his powers to close up his wound. He looked to see Haldir with the spear of Aeglos at his hand and saw the dark expression of hatred and vengeance upon his face.

“Poor little Marchwarden,” mocked Nergal as he stood up. “Come to avenge your fallen Celestial lover?”

“No.” Haldir growled lowly. “I want to be the one who puts you in the ground myself.” Nergal smirked maliciously.

“Atta boy.” He praised before the two of them charged toward each other. Haldir made the first strike with a side swipe using Aeglos but Nergal bent backwards as he slide underneath the blade but what he didn’t expect was Haldir to quickly swing the blade and slice him in the back of the calf.

Haldir then slashed at Nergal’s face and Aeglos’ blade actually managing to cut his cheek. The black blood seeping down from both his cheek and blade. Nergal raised his hand and touched his bleeding cheek and let out an impressive whistle. The crazed look in his eyes intensified as the sinister smirk grew larger.

Nergal quickly summoned out another Morgul blade and the two of them clashed again. Nergal first went for Haldir’s feet much like Haldir had done to him, but the Marchwarden was light on his feet as he flipped over and dodged the attack. Both men using all their strength grunting and growling as their blades collided with each other until Haldir used the same nerve attack that he’s seen Hela use.

He delivered a hard punch just below Nergal’s shoulder blade and the Celestial of death let out a pained cry. Haldir abandoned Aeglos and kept up with the hand to hand combat as he kept delivering punch after punch using his knuckles and fingers to hit at Nergal’s every nerve. The Celestial of Pestilence was growing tired of Haldir’s cheap trick. Even as he tried to slice at Haldir with his blade he couldn’t land a single cut on the Elf he had once tortured.

Haldir then landed a hard jab at Nergal’s wrist which caused him to drop his blade. Growling as he lunged after the Marchwarden again only for him to dodge his attack by spinning around the Celestial of Pestilence’s body. However he just barely dodged another Morgul blade that Nergal secretly summoned, as the blade had cut through Haldir’s hair cutting off Hela’s courting braid she had made for him.

This enraged Haldir even more so. His eyes narrowed and his lips curled over his teeth as he snarled like a rabid animal. Almost in a flash of speed that would almost rival Makkari, Haldir punched Nergal square in the face with every bit of ounce he could.

And since Elves have enhanced strength compared to Men, this punch felt like getting his with a large boulder thrown at the speed of a Meras run. Nergal was left briefly dazed from the punch but Haldir continued his assault on the fake Celestial. Punching, grabbing his hair to knee him in the face, and hitting at his pressure points.

One move he had pierced Nergal by the shoulders with his Elven daggers, managed to fully flip himself over the Celestial and as he landed on his feet behind him, he had flipped Nergal over his head slamming him to the ground. Breathlessly Nergal lay there on his back but his judgement had only just begun.

Haldir manhandled Nergal up onto his knees and began beating his face in. Left, right, left, right, combos of punches across each side of his face. He had beaten Nergal’s face so hard that one would almost think he was about to beat it inward. And each time Nergal’s body caved in on itself, Haldir would lift him back up and continue his assault.

As everyone stared in shock at Haldir’s decent into vengeance, they knew that if he had succeeded in killing Nergal like this, there’d be no going back for him. Once an Elf has killed with darkness in their hearts, they are forever tainted and lose themselves to the darkness.

Haldir’s eyes that once held such starlight in them had now appeared dull and dark as he stared Nergal down like the filth he was. A darkness had consumed him as he carried himself over towards Nergal’s abandoned Morgul blades and wielded them in his own hand. The green aura surrounded him and the blades as Haldir slowly crept over towards Nergal who lay on the ground defenseless.

A skillful swirl of the blades Haldir then raised up the two dark blades to finish the job with a rageful cry. But just before he could finish the job, Cain had appeared before him grasping his wrists in his hands holding the young elf back from committing the act that would forever taint him.

With each rageful cry or growl he let out as he tried to free his hands from Cain’s grip only enhanced Cain’s hold on him. He looked at Haldir with those glowing orbs of his and even though they couldn’t show emotion like normal eyes do, the look on Cain’s face showed it all.

He didn’t even need to say a word to the Marchwarden because he himself had been there before. The rage, the grief, it had now formed such a darkness in the Elfling’s heart that Cain knew all too well.

As Haldir kept his eyes on Cain, his anger slowly began to diminish. The green aura that once surrounded him began to dim as he slowly loosened his grip on Nergal’s Morgul blades. The two dark blades fell with a clank as Haldir’s anger began to subside.

Suddenly Nergal used his own Celestial nerve attack to paralyze Cain as he palm-heel strike him in the back. A green aura of Nergal’s magic shimmered around Cain as he collapsed onto his side, his face pale almost as if he had been kissed by death itself.

Haldir grabbed hold of his beloved’s brother to ease his fall while Nergal heavily panted, his face stained with blood and bruised beyond recognition.

“Cain, Cain!” Haldir called out.

“She was weak…..because of you.” Nergal’s gruff voice panted out. “This exiled filth, left himself exposed. Because of you.” Nergal and Haldir’s eyes met and Haldir noticed how Nergal now held the satchel that held the remaining Celestial gems that Hela had given her brother to hold onto.

The Celestial of Pestilence’s smirk became crazed, his hollowed eyes staring wildly at the young Marchwarden Elf.

“You—are the poison to the Celestials.” Haldir glared at Nergal as he held Cain’s body closer to him. As Nergal’s cackle echoed through the courtyard, Legolas fired an arrow which caused Nergal to drop the satchel but also allow all the remaining stones to fall out.

Once Ajak’s sapphire blue stone was exposed Nergal went after it but Haldir quickly tackled him and held him down to the ground. Legolas, Faramir, Pippin and Gimli soon joined in holding the Celestial of Pestilence down while Aragorn raced after the stone.

“ARAGORN NO!!!” Gandalf warned. But it was already decided. Nergal shoved and kicked off his captors to try and beat Aragorn to the stone, but the Fellowship and Lord Faramir were resilient and relentless as they’d keep coming back and try to hold Nergal back.

Finally Aragorn slid across the ground and managed to grab the Celestial Prime’s stone in his palm. Immediately a burst of light shot out and a dust storm swirled around the entire courtyard. The strong winds forced everyone to hang on as that they wouldn’t be caught in the storm.

As for Aragorn—well he had forced his body to make the ultimate sacrifice. He writhed in agony as the stone began to burn right through his palm. The same sapphire blue that was on the stone, began to shine along his entire body slowly cracking and breaking it down piece by piece, slowly and agonizingly.

Aragorn was forced to have himself rooted to the ground as the stone’s power began to consume him and break him down. All the while sapphire fireballs swarming around everyone within the dust cloud.

Nergal took great pleasure at seeing Aragorn’s suicidal and foolish sacrifice. He knew that none but a Celestials could wield the raw power of the stones and now the ‘King of Gondor Isildur’s heir’ had foolishly thought he could wield the power of the most powerful and the First Celestial to ever exist in Middle Earth.

As Aragorn continued to scream and feel every ounce of pain the stone was giving him, he soon heard a voice call out to him.

“ARAGORN! TAKE MY HAND!” it was Legolas. Using whatever strength he had left, the young Elven prince had stood up and fought against the Celestial magic that was forcing him to stay away to call out to his friend and extend his hand out. He watched as Aragorn’s disintegrating face turned to him but instead of seeing Legolas, Aragorn saw someone else.

In fact he had been transported to what felt like the heavens. The stars were all he could see before him, millions and millions of them surrounding his entire vision and he saw both the moon and the sun hovering side by side of each other. But it was the person that stood before him that surprised him the most.

‘Those who are worthy of my power, must learn to share the burden of it with others.’ the female voice asked him.

“Ajak.” Aragorn whispered.

“TAKE MY HAND!!” Legolas’ voice echoed through his mind. Ajak smiled and extended her hand out to him and immediately Aragorn had reached out and took Ajak’s hand. Only to then reveal that he had now taken Legolas’ hand and now he too was experiencing the same agony that Aragorn was feeling.

The raw power of the Celestials.

Legolas kept a firm grip of Aragorn’s hand as the sapphire light now began to shimmer through his own body. But as the cracks and magic began to affect his body, the light surrounding Legolas changed from sapphire blue to an earthly green color. The same color as Cersei’s stone.

Nergal continued to watch with amusement as another fool thought he too could wield the power of a Celestial. That’s when his attention turned to Aragorn’s other side. Going towards the hand that held Ajak’s stone was Gimli, son of Gloin.

Holding his hand before his eye he trudged towards Aragorn’s screaming body and with his other hand he reached out until he finally touched Aragorn’s arm. His entire body immediately starting to crack and breaking down as it went from the Sapphire blue light to Gilgamesh’s bronze orange color.

And not even waiting another second, a small hand reached out towards Gimli’s cracking gloved hand and that hand belonged to none other than Pippin. The second Pippin grasped Gimli’s hand, he screamed as a turquoise light began to surround him and break his body apart. The same color as Sprite’s stone.

The four members of the Fellowship were now being taken and broken apart by the power of the Celestial Prime. But to Nergal’s surprise, instead of immediately combusting into millions of pieces, their bodies were now magically healed and they glowed with their respected lights as the phantom figures of Cersei, Ajak, Gilgamesh and Sprite stood over each of their chosen wielders.

“You’re mortal……how?” Nergal exclaimed in shock his eyes widened with fear.

At the crown of Aragorn’s head Ajak’s mantle crown began to form and his voice along with the voice of Ajak spoke out.

“They have proven themselves worthy Celestials. You, Nergal the Pestilence have not.” Aragorn’s eyes now glowed a pure golden light and Ajak’s mantle crown fully formed itself on top of his head.

Nergal growled and summoned out his Morgul blade but before he could lunge for an attack to Aragorn, the King opened his palm that held Ajak’s stone and the sapphire magic shot directly at the Celestial of Pestilence.

Fear and pain now consumed Nergal as he was raised high up into the air. The sapphire magic of the Celestial prime now surged through him, encompassing him as it slowly broke him apart piece by piece. A small smirk came across Aragorn’s face as he allowed the Celestial Prime to deal with the being that harmed his sister and his friends.

All Nergal could do now was scream in agony as the sapphire light began to fully consume him until finally his body combusted into sapphire flames and the green aura that he once had was snuffed and consumed by the power of the Celestial Prime herself.

Once Nergal was finally defeated, a bright sapphire light and magical wave forced the Fellowship away from Aragorn and the dust cloud that once formed around the courtyard had disappeared.

Exhausted from the pain and Celestial magic they all endured, Legolas, Gimli and Pippin soon turned to Aragorn as dust had surrounded him briefly blocking him from their vision. When the dust cleared, they soon took notice how he had was now wearing the very same Celestial style of armor as the Celestial Prime Ajak herself.

Aragorn opened his eyes to reveal the glowing aura was gone and he was now fully back in control. He turned towards his friends and they all stared at him in awe.

“Not only have you been accepted to wield the power of the Celestial Prime Aragorn, but you have also been accepted to become like the Celestial Prime.” Gandalf said as he helped Cain stand up. Aragorn looked down to see his ranger clothes had indeed been replaced by the Celestial prime’s armor and helm.

“I heard her voice in my head. Those who were worthy of her power, should be willing to share it with others. And from her eyes I have seen the powers they need.”

“I saw it too. I saw Sprite in my vision the second I took Gimli’s hand.” Pippin spoke.

“Aye, and I heard the stronghold Celestial Lord Gilgamesh himself. He spoke to me and said that he had been waiting for a Dwarf kin of the one who sacrificed himself for Hela.” Gimli knew that Gilgamesh was referring to when Kili had sacrificed his life for Hela when they fought Bolg spawn of Azog together.

“It was at first faint to me but I soon heard Hela’s sister Cersei speak to me. Telling me that there’s no other being on Middle Earth not more worthy of her power than one of Elvish blood.” Aragorn then went over to the scattered gems and gathered them all up together and magically summoned another satchel. He placed all the gems except for Cersei’s, Gilgamesh’s and Sprite’s stone into the satchel and walked up to his friends.

“Hela’s kin has trusted us with their power and we must do everything we can to honor their word. We cannot defeat the Deviants with mere mortal or Eldar weapons alone, but with the power of our chosen Celestials flowing through our veins we might stand a chance. Hopefully soon Druig and Merry have figured a way to free Hela and then the Deviants shall fall once and for all.”

Once Legolas, Gimli and Pippin were given their chosen stones and held them tightly in their palms. The stones respected color light surrounded them, a light whirlwind forming around each of them until the lights faded and now, like Aragorn, they too wore the Celestials armors of the Strongholds, Illusions and Elementals.

“We’re right there at your side Aragorn.” Legolas said bowing Cersei’s celestials bow.

“We’ll follow you into death and darkness laddie.” Gimli added as he gave him Gilgamesh’s Celestial bow.

“Those Deviants won’t know what hit them.” Pippin said with a cunning smirk and cracking his knuckles.

That’s when piercing through the air was the sound of a haunting whistle. A whistle that Cain knew all too well as the familiar chill of fear ran up his spine.

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