Shadow Hunter-LegolasxOC

34: The Men Burn (Edited)

The darkness Sauron was conjuring reached Osgiliath in a matter of hours, veiling the stars and the moon, and even Varilerin could not discern whether it was day or night or neither. A thick mist rolled into the riverbanks, the cold air stinging the bones of the soldiers. Varilerin perched on top of one of the dilapidated watch towers, her eyes trying to scrutinise past the dreadful mist, while Faramir stood still next to her. His quietness and melancholy provided some comfort in the tense situation, though his fear and worry were clear to her. Being overshadowed by his brother for too long had done him no good as a leader, for in the face of a sudden adversity he seemed perpetually distraught and doubtful of his own leadership.

But if he managed to resist the power of the Ring and send Frodo to his safety, then this man was perhaps more powerful than Boromir himself.

"Are there men stationed close to the river?" Varilerin inquired, breaking the long silence.

"Yes, several of them," Faramir answered with a nod. "I did not assign many, for the river has remained undisturbed. The Orcs are lying low."

"We've also sent scouts Cair Andros," Madril added, positioning himself beside Farmir. He was, as she had perceived, Faramir's right-hand man. "If the Orcs attack from the North, we'll have some warning."

Varilerin narrowed her eyes, eyeing the river. The mist continued to creep closer towards Osgiliath, as if it had a mind of its own—of all things, Varilerin was close to nature, and nature would not act this way on its own. "I do not think that they will come from the North," she said.

Faramir did not respond, his eyes laced with curiosity. It was his comrade who spoke, almost accusingly, "And why is that?".

"If I were their commander, I would strike with stealth after such an open assault earlier," Varilerin explained carefully. "He knows you men are tired and your defences weaker. From the North he would not gain this element of surprise, but from the river? The mist is his making, I am sure, and therefore a certain opportunity to surprise us."

"But you are not an Orc," Madril retorted incredulously.

Varilerin raised her brows. "An Orc is cleverer than you thought," Varilerin argued grimly, remembering the unfortunate incident which had struck Rivendell when she was a child—then another, when all her comrades had fallen for her. "Stealth is one of their greatest weapons, whether you realise it or not. I have fallen for trap once, and I would not allow it to happen again. Furthermore, it is unwise to say that an Orc is their leader. The Witch King is their true commander—"

She paused, contemplating her words. "And there might be a powerful warrior beside him. A man called Vrasari. He alone can slay twenty of you within minutes. I can only hope that he is not leading the army, a reckless hope nevertheless. For that, we must be prepared. What say you, Faramir?"

Faramir considered her words. Though he had just met her, he knew the wisdom within her advice, the knowing look reflected off her silver eyes. "Farewell," Faramir finally said. "Madril, concentrate our forces near the river banks, but station some of our men in the North. I do not want to take any risks."

"And place archers on the wall, if you have enough," Varilerin added. "If we see movement in the river, we better take down the enemies from range. Orcs can traverse the darkness better."

Madril glared at Faramir, still unwilling to accept the fact that he trusted Varilerin more than his right-handed man. But Faramir steeled himself, and Madril eventually excused himself.

The men shuffled quickly under Madril's orders, while Faramir and Varilerin followed him towards the river. The older the night went, the surer Varilerin was of her own prediction. When she stationed herself atop the walls, she could sense the enemies inching closer and closer, concealed carefully within the thickening fog. It was an indescribable kind of sense, for she did not rely her sight nor her hearing to peer into the fog. Her uncanny sensitivity to unseen presence had been one of the benefits of her Foresight.