Master Of Death

Chapter 17

Harry POV

Previously:

Soon the chamber is empty, and it seems that the King of Gonder bought them safe passage, but nothing more. Dejected and worn out, they say nothing to Aragorn who seems to feel his failure heavily. It is when they are on the other side of the mountain that they see another force on the river bound for Gondor. Hopelessness overcomes the would-be King, and he collapses to his knees.

In an unexpected twist, a green mist surrounds them, and soon the ghostly King stands before Aragorn once more.

"We fight!" he says with a cruel gleam in his eye.

Aragorn bows his head a fraction of an inch in thanks. The extra force will easily be wiped out before it even arrives in Gondor. Soon the idea of breaking the lines of Mordor seems so easy. The ghosts backing away and fading into the rock but it is unlikely they are truly gone. The rest of the time there is spent planning an attack against Saruman's forces from where they least expect it - the black ships.

"Eight! Nine, ten!"

"Nine, ten, eleven, twelve!"

"Fifteen!"

I grinned, sending spells in multiple directions, listening to Legolas and Gimli challenge each other on the number of Orcs they fell with each stroke.

"Pretty sure I am at fifty, you two are slacking!" I shout over at them, sending another bright green spell towards an Orc to my left.

Legolas retaliates by rushing towards one of the Olyphants, flipping around like he's made of air and downing it like it was a pesky fly. I glare goodnaturedly at his triumphant smirk, Gimli beside me huffing.

"Showoff," Gimli said, and I nod in agreement - though certainly not complaining at the sight of. I quickly resume fighting, Gimli at my back, when the dead army suddenly swoops in, falling light a heavy fog on top of the battle, bodies falling as the army swiftly moves forward, completely unopposed.

I stood still, watching, Death once more trembling under my skin, growling at the unnaturalness of it all. I agree with him, though incredibly glad for the assistance, and hope for their swift release from the curse once their task is accomplished.

It is easy enough to locate both Legolas and Gimli as the dead army left, and we slowly made our way to where Aragorn stood, covered in blood and dirt. The King of the dead army in front of him, grimly staring one another down, anticipation filled the air.

"As Aragorn, son of Arathorn, I am witness to your grand deeds in helping us in this battle and hereby release you from your curse." Aragorn bows his head minutely, returned by the King of the dead army, before the King dissipates with those who follow him. As soon as the last vestiges of them disappeared, it felt as though Death heaved a sigh of satisfaction, and the tingling left my limbs from Death's irritation.

A few hours later, they enter Minas Tirith, quickly met by Gandalf, who has a concerned expression on his face.

"Frodo is beyond my sight now." He explains, and the weight of the words are heavy on our shoulders. I worry my lip, feeling Legolas' hand clasped my shoulder in an attempt at reassurance, though it is easy for me to see the worry in his own eyes. We shift anxiously, quiet until Aragorn speaks up.

"I have a plan. The Eye of the Evil is almost certain to locate them, but we can still help by providing a distraction for it to focus on instead. Though I would require a willing and able-bodied army to fight by my side."

It was not a difficult answer to come to, for any of us and it is solidified by Gimli bringing his axe up in the air.

"Certainty of death, small chance of success, what are we waiting for?"

I hide a snort of amusement, agreeing with the statement. It was obvious we would all assist Aragorn in his plan, in hopes of Frodo and Sam getting out of their ordeal alive.

By the following morning at first light, an army is saddled and ready to ride out, hopes high in the prospect of this war ending once and for all. It only takes a few hours to reach the black gates to Mordor, the pure evil rushing through me in the blink of an eye, making those around me more uneasy at the battle to come.

"This war has been long and hard for all of us; we've lost more than we have gained. What we are facing here and now is the end. The end of this war, the end of our suffering, the end of all the death and destruction we have been forced to endure. Today, here and now, is the battle to determine our future. To determine if we rise or if we fall.

"In this battle, as with all other battles, we shall fight with honor and with courage!" Aragorn gives a shout, sword thrust in the air before bringing it down to rush as the coming enemy forces, the black gates opening before us.

The Fellowship rides forward hard, rushing the front lines in a splatter of blood and hoarse cries, swords, arrows and spells soaring into bodies of Orcs. I distantly hope that this will be the last fight I will have to partake in for a while to come, the prospect of living a peaceful life with Legolas for the foreseeable future is too sweet to let go of. If, of course, Legolas is agreeable to such an arrangement.

I can feel the moment the eye latches its gaze upon us, the weight thick and heavy, but I push through the feeling, landing a Sectumsempra curse on an unsuspecting Orc.

We get pushed back, however, when the Nazgul arrive and begin attacking us from the air, as we are only able to do so much against an aerial enemy. I try to hit them with a curse, only for the Nazgul to simply veer to the left and out of the way, only for the Nazgul to be gripped from above by a pair of giant talons belonging to an even bigger eagle.

I stare at them in shock for a few moments, then force my attention back to the battle when a sudden shout catches my attention.

"Aragorn!" Legolas and Gimli are running towards the man, easily reaching him and helping Aragorn stand. There's a deep gash in his side, bleeding sluggishly and I quickly throw a shield up around them as Orcs try and bring the three back down.

But then the eye suddenly diverts it's attention from us, and I shout over to Legolas,

"The eye!" and he immediately looks over to where it sits.

"Something must have happened," Legolas says back, frowning, arm held securely around Aragorn until he is steady enough to stand on his own. I spread my senses as far as possible to find them, only to glide right past where they ought to be and come up empty.

I'm about to say something else when the eye suddenly begins to tilt and the ground rumbles beneath our feet - cheering erupts around us, even as we scramble to safety.

I watch in horror as the ground splits, debris falling into the blackened pit of the hole revealed, the eye burning up and disappearing in an explosion of energy.

Things begin to settle down, but then the volcano erupts, and my inability to locate the Hobbits strangles my insides and I frantically cast out my senses for them once more - only to once more come up empty. I stare at the lava flowing down the mountain, eyes glazed over with unshed tears when Legolas kneels in front of me, concerned.

"What's wrong, Harry?" He questions, hand reaching up to swipe at an escaped tear.

"The Hobbits - I can't find them!" I gasp, Legolas immediately enveloping me in his strong embrace, uncaring of the audience.