Rise (Lord of the Rings)

58 - The Letter

            Ever since I learned about the march on the Black Gate, my mood fell drastically. I couldn't believe such a secret had been kept from me. I was bound to know sometime, more like on the day the event would take place and everyone had decided to leave.

I became mostly secluded following hearing the news, accepting very few visitors. My mood was in a downward spiral, and my patience could only tolerate so many visitors. The only people I really talked to during that time was Éowyn, sometimes Faramir, and rarely—surprisingly—Legolas. Even though I knew he would be riding off to the Black Gate with everyone else, I could let the Elf talk to me.

The few days that it took to prepare the remaining soldiers for battle passed quickly. I stayed within the Houses of Healing as many wounded soldiers—who were fully healthy again—left, ready to be called to join another battle in the very near future. I never interacted with any of the soldiers, so the information I got about the coming battle flew around my ears by gossip.

One day was solely planned out for seeing how many soldiers we'd have to march on the Black Gate. The number changed, for as the day of battle grew nearer, more soldiers were deemed healthy again. Another day—only a select few partook in this—was dedicated to discuss battle strategy.

Soon enough, the day of battle had arrived. I had just woken up. Though the Houses were almost cleared out, very few soldiers still lingered, Faramir being one of them. The soldiers were gathering, preparing their weapons, armor, and steeds for battle. Apparently, the ride to the Black Gate would take half the day. If the soldiers left now, they would reach Mordor by midday.

I paced in my room. I had so many thoughts and worries crossing my mind that I felt scatterbrained. I hated that I was staying here while everyone else I loved was heading off for war at any minute. I understood everyone's concern for me, but they were ignoring the fact that I wanted to throw myself into another battle. I still had plenty of fight left in me. This was a crucial battle, with so much riding on the outcome.

There were only two results I saw for this battle, and I hoped to see the lighter one.

I stopped my pacing when I saw Éowyn in the threshold, watching me with sad grey eyes.

"Are you my guard dog so I don't try to run off to battle with the boys?" I teased, trying to be light. During the preparations, Legolas had told me that enough people cared about me sitting out on the battle that they were arranging someone to keep tabs on me. If my watch dog was Éowyn, that was a big mistake. She would let me ride off with the men to battle.

Or...wouldn't she? Even though I told her not to blame herself for what happened to me, something in the back of my mind told me that she may not want to make the same mistake twice of letting me run off into war.

"I am, Faramir is as well," she reported quietly. "But that's not why I'm here."

"It isn't?" I raised a curious eyebrow.

"I came to deliver a message to you."

"From who?"

"I think it's better if you read the letter yourself."

Éowyn bent down to hand me a neatly folded piece of parchment. I looked at her, demanding an answer with my brown eyes. She threw a small smile at me then stood erect and ghosted out of my room.

Curious, I unfolded the parchment, not bothering to sit down. I didn't recognize the handwriting, so I didn't know who wrote to me.

Marlena,

If you've been given this just now, odds are I am already heading for the Black Gate with Gandalf, Aragorn, and everyone else. I would have sought you out myself, but I knew you were still mad at me and wouldn't stand to hear anything I had to say. Still, I couldn't leave Minas Tirith without at least saying something, whether I actually talked to you or wrote.

I know I upset you, but I had to put my foot down so you would understand just how much I—and the others—didn't want you to tag along, simply because we all agreed that you had gone through too much and needed to sit out on this one. Since there wasn't enough time to seek you out, I wrote this for you, because I couldn't stand the thought of leaving you in the Houses of Healing feeling upset with you.

I wish I could say what I'm about to tell you to your face, because I know it would mean a lot more than writing it. I know it may sound too soon, as we've only just begun our relationship, but I have to say it in case I don't get the chance to in the future. I love you, Marlena, much more than you could ever know. I've loved you for years—whether you knew this beforehand or not.

I wish there was more time for us to discover our relationship, as we never really have gotten the chance to with war separating us so much. I know as you read this, I sound pessimistic, but I sound it because there is a chance I may not come back from battle. That is another reason why I wrote this: for you to have something to remember me by.

If we lose this fight, I pray that you don't forget about me or the others, and I desperately hope that you do all you can to survive in the dark, new world. Hopefully, we will not lose, but even now as I write this, I'm not sure what the outcome will be for us, or for the entirety of Middle-earth.

All that's left now is to say goodbye, which is not easy for me—and I am sure it is not easy for you. Remember, Marley, you are the only girl I have ever loved, and always will love. Never forget that.

Merry

The letter fell through my fingers, floating to the floor. Tears welled in my eyes, I sunk to my knees.

Quickly, I collected myself, snatched the letter from the floor, and raced out of my room to outside. I skidded to a halt to see Faramir and Éowyn accompanied by an old friend of mine: the pony I had rode into war with. I hadn't really wondered about his fate since the battle in Minas Tirith, but I was happy that my partner in battle had survived.

"Did he write this before he left?" I demanded of Éowyn, my throat feeling constricted.

"He wrote it last night," she replied, stroking the pony's neck. "I know we are to watch over you, but we cannot hold you back from your calling."

I looked over my outfit. I hadn't changed into nightwear last night out of laziness. I guess I was as fit for battle as I could be.

"Don't just stand there gawking," Faramir joked. "Get on; you need to hurry now if you have a shot of catching them."

Unlocking my frozen body, I trotted to the pony. Faramir gave me a leg up. He handed over my other partner in crime: my sword. It was clean, no crusted black Orc blood to be seen. "How much time have I missed them by?" I asked them as I situated myself in the saddle.

"I'd say at the least two hours, if I had to estimate," Faramir told me. "It may seem like you're too far behind to catch them, but I'm sure they left a trail of prints for you to follow."

"Right, I'll just follow the trail."

"Marlena." I looked to Faramir. "I wish you nothing but luck."

"As do I," Éowyn chimed, grabbing my hand. "Go out there and help them defeat Sauron once and for all."

I bobbed my head. "Oh, wait." I handed the letter to Éowyn. "Keep it safe for me, will you? I would hold onto it myself, but I don't think I can find a secure place to keep it."

With an excited kick from me, the pony shot forward. I nearly fell off, my heart sprinting as fast as the pony's hooves. It was like he knew the way to go; all I had to do was hang on.

We made our way down the cobblestone streets, swiftly avoiding villagers in the process. As we rounded a turn, I noticed the gate was about to be close.

With a yell, I urged the pony on more. We just barely squeezed through the opening. I whooped, dropping my eyes to the ground to focus on following the trail of very few hoof prints—mainly foot prints—towards my destination: the Black Gate.