The Second Fellowship: The Stone of Might

Chapter 21: A Battle Begins

Chapter 21: A Battle Begins

Oreth POV

The Stone of Might was like nothing I had ever seen before. At first, I had been tempted to seize it for my own, but that did not last long. Then we had begun to talk, and before long I had confessed that I meant to marry Alden. Everyone had been so joyful and kind, save for Tirnel, who had looked only furious. I did not understand why she was so irate, she was one of my best friends, and should have been showering us with congratulations. But she hadn’t. I stared at the Stone again now, and suddenly, my eyes began to water. Tears welled up behind my lashes, and threatened to drip down my face. No, I would not give her the satisfaction of knowing her cruel words had made me cry. So I smiled and listened, yet I felt Alden’s hand on mine, as if he had read my mind and knew of my angst. He squeezed my fingers, warming me to the bone, and I smiled in earnest.

“What was that?” Thannor said, quietly. “The drumming?”

Everything seemed to go still. My heart stopped and I replied quietly. “What drumming?”

“That drumming.”

Instantly, Tirnel dropped to the ground, pressing her ear to the floor. A heart wrenching, agonizing pause ensued, and I didn’t make eye contact with anyone. My grip on Alden’s hand tightened.

When Tirnel stood, her eyes were wide and full of fear.

“Uruk-hai! About five minutes off, a party of two hundred! All armed with blades and bows. The drums are the warbeat of their heavy steps.”

“A raiding group?” asked Faineth hopefully.

“No,” said Boron. “This is not just a raiding group, they’ve been sent here for a purpose!”

“And we know that purpose all too well,” I said. “We need to get out, and now! Tirnel, take the Stone!”

All former uncertain emotions shoved aside, I grabbed the many coloured jewel and covered it with a spare cloak, pressing it into her hands. “Protect it!”

Turning around, I saw the others readying themselves for battle. Faineth had pulled out her sword and was performing intricate manoeuvres with the blade. Alden and Alric were doing the same, weapons gleaming, and the two dwarves were conversing in hushed tones. Caranel pulling the horn Lady Galadriel had given her out, and polishing it until it gleamed. Boron was tightening simple leather armour over his tunic, while Thannor readied his bow. I ought to prepare myself as well, and pulled out my bow, deftly stringing it. Next I checked my supply of arrows, enough to ensure I would not run out. I pricked my finger on one and winced as it drew blood. Razor sharp, if one of these hit an orc in the eye, it would be driven mad by pain. As I checked around, I looked up at Tirnel. She was not organizing in the slightest. Though she had tucked the Stone in her pack, now she sat on the floor, staring at something in her clenched, pale fist.

“Tirnel, savo chûr an dagor!” I said with urgency. [Tirnel, be ready for battle!]

She stared down at her hands, and at last I saw what she looked at. The vial of mirror water that Galadriel had gifted her, back in Lothlorien. For her to look at when she wanted to be home. A tear slid down her face.

“What is it, mellon nin?” I asked, bending down.

She looked up, wonderingly. “It does show me Greenwood, and the happiness I once had, but in the forefront the home I see is Imladris. With my friends. And….I think I understand now, that the White Lady of Lothlorien wanted me to remember, but to move on.”

I smiled. She only just realised? This is what we’ve been trying to tell her all these years. 

Tirnel stood, grasping her bow with one hand, and her pack with the other. On her back was the knife she had used to kill Naegung. She looked at me with a one sided smile, and I lifted an eyebrow.