The Blacksmith

Eventually, you just felt nothing, the numbness taking hold of you completely. You slept upon that very same hill that night, slumber pulling you under against your will. You knew you would dream of him, and you were afraid to, for your mind was at risk of making promises it could not keep. Of keeping hope alive when it existed no longer. Your sleep brought on images of the battle Halbrand must have fought, slashing orcs left and right upon his steed, rescuing his people finally, only for it to all come apart in the wake of natures anger. What would he have done in his final moments? Did he run for cover where there was none? Did he help those who were struggling? Did he sacrifice his life for his people? Were his last thoughts of you?

Coming back to the world, you felt the soft grass underneath you, and your tear stained cheeks. Your eyes were sore with pain from the sun and pain from your anguish. You slowly rose to your feet, forcing yourself to gaze once more upon the land that was your lover's grave. The darkness had consumed the Southlands. Lightning bolts raged through the blackened clouds, and the ground was reduced to ashes. You made the decision then to make for the mountain, perhaps in some desperately misguided attempt to seek vengeance. Eyes still fixed on the darkened horizon, you guided your right hand down to your belt, your fingertips making contact with the cool metal of your dagger, confirming it was still on you in case you might require its use. Normally you would pray you wouldn't have to use it, but these were not normal circumstances. In fact, a part of you hoped you would get to stick it into the flesh of an enemy. Maybe then you would feel something again.

You made your way down the hill towards the forest in the valley below, not looking back at your Númenórean companions as they continued to tend to the wounded soldiers that had arrived. Of course, there was one of them who was not going to let you escape so easily. Nisarien bellowed your name once more. You quickened your pace, hoping to make it past the tree line before she caught you, but she was fast on her feet it seems. "Where are you going, my lady?"
"It is none of your concern, Nisarien. Go back." Your words were cold, and your tone foreign, feeling as if someone else was speaking for you. Not waiting for her response, you kept moving, the canopy of the trees now covering you both in shadow. "Surely you are going to search for more wounded, yes?" she inquired, projecting her hope onto you.
"To be honest with you, I don't actually know what I'm doing." you couldn't help but be forthcoming with her this time, and you started laughing uncontrollably.
"My lady... are you alright?" Nisarien spoke with genuine concern and complete naivety. You just continued to laugh. "Maybe you should come with me back to camp... the wounded are starting to grow in number, and we could use your help."

"I am to assume then that the king has returned?"
Nisarien hesitated. "N-no. No he has not."
You stopped dead in your tracks, turning to face her. "Then why are you disturbing me when I asked you not to unless that was the case?" your laughter ceasing as your icy tone re-emerged.
"Because I am worried for you, my lady. Now is not the time to grieve or commit foolish actions. We must save those we can and prepare for the trip home." she spoke, the image of righteousness. You slowly moved towards her, and much to your pleasure, she was backing away from you, in fear. "There is nothing left for me, Nisarien. Nothing. I cannot return to camp. I do not wish to look on the faces of those who have seen death and destruction. I do not wish to see the terror in their eyes as they cry out in agony. Better to let their grief run its course, as I am doing mine."

"But you must return to Númenor, my lady, it is your home."
"This is my home!" you cried out, your arms in the air. "This is my kingdom. I will not abandon it. I must carry on in my king's stead. It is what he would have wanted." You turned back away from her then, continuing to tread deeper into the forest, but Nisarien wouldn't leave you be. "What do you expect to find? Do you think seeing what is left of Halbrand will give you peace? There is nothing left of him, my lady. He is gone. Leave the dead and return to the living." She had surprisingly become brave, trying to convince you to re-join her, but nothing she would say would make you see reason or change your mind. However, hearing these words spoken aloud stung your heart, and its aching became greater. It was almost as if she had condemned him to death herself. You knew her words to be true, but how dare she speak them. How dare she disrespect you and your love. She had no right to question your actions, you are a queen! And if you wanted to hold the bones of your king in your hands then that was what you were going to do.

It all happened so fast. Your hand on your dagger. Your paces towards the poor Númenórean woman. Her skin turning pale. Your blade entering her chest. Nisarien dropped to the ground, blood emerging from her mouth. You removed the dagger, and red liquid spilled out and down her beautiful dress. You stood there in shock for a moment, stumbling back, tripping on an exposed tree root, and you fell to the ground mere feet away from where she lay dying. She was convulsing, gasping for air as if the oxygen would keep her alive. You crawled towards her curious, wanting to watch as the life left her body. As you approached her you realised the dagger was still in your hand. "M-m-my... lady... w-w-why...?" somehow Nisarien could still speak, but barely, tears streaming onto the dirt beneath her. As you thought to answer her final question, rage stirred inside of you as you were struck by the incredulous thought that she did not know why she was going to die. You put her out of her misery. "You questioned the queen and spoke ill of her king... death is all that awaits you now." There was that foreign tone in your voice again, but you embraced it, letting it become you.

Nisarien's eyes went wide as she watched you bring up your dagger, before unleashing it upon her flesh. You swiftly let the blade slit open her throat, and watched as her life poured out of her. She gagged on it for only a moment, before she passed into the next life. You noticed then that your heart rate had climbed high, your breathing becoming fast and heavy. Removing yourself from her barren corpse, you sat back down and just stared at her, your numbness returning. Then out of nowhere you were struck by another fit of laughter. It was one of disbelief really, because you literally could not fathom this is what your life had become. You had found then lost the love of your life, and become a killer, letting the darkness in you take hold. Laying back on the earth, you waited for your giggles to subside as you gazed up at the great tree branches overhead, the only witnesses to your crime. As the adrenaline rush passed, you felt your eyelids grow heavy, and right before they closed, you could have sworn you heard an all too familiar chuckle echo out in the distance.

Awaking with a start, you jumped to your feet, frustrated that you had succumbed to sleep. Your eyes quickly landed on the body of Nisarien once more. She lay still and pale, her bright blue eyes seeing nothing. The moments of her demise at your hand replayed themselves in your mind. Then before you could stop it, you were vomiting. Since you could not remember the last time you had eaten, you weren't surprised to find only bile coming up out of you. Wiping the sweat off your brow, you rose to your feet once more, and slowly continued on into the depths of the woods.

Overhead, the sun was beginning to set, the forest growing darker with each step you took, but you did not stop moving. You had to reach what remained of Tirharad, you had to see the wasteland up close. Although you did not know what you would do upon your arrival. That seemed to depend on who you would find alive, if anyone. If it were Southlanders, you would declare yourself their queen accordingly. If it were orcs... you would take out as many of them as you could before they would claim you.

As the last beams of light disappeared at the end of the day, you heard a voice cry out, echoing off the trees. "Hello?" you called out into the darkness of the wood, not knowing nor caring who you were calling to. No answer, so you called out again.
"Over here!" came the response, loud and clear, west of your position. "Come quickly!"
"I need to follow your voice!" you yelled. "Keep talking!"
The sounds of the unnamed thing lead you many paces away from where you had stood. As it grew nearer, you sped up your footsteps until you were practically running at it. Suddenly, you reached a road through the wood, and two figures started to become clear in your vision. There was the owner of the voice, who was frantically waving his arms at you, and there was another that lay on the ground, not moving at all. When you reached them, you dropped to your knees instantly at the sight. Laying on the ground, barely alive, was Halbrand.

You were in shock, scarcely registering the words coming from the strangers mouth. Halbrand was alive. You could not believe it. "Quickly, we must get him back to the Númenórean camp, he needs medicine." spoke the man, who appeared to be a Southlander, covered in ash and dirt, blood staining his temple. Similar in condition to your love, although Halbrand’s situation was sadly much graver. For it was then that your eyes found the gaping wound on his side. Rushing over to him, kissing him quickly and frantically, you called out his name in attempt to rouse him. "He will not wake my lady, the wound is too severe. We must get him the help he needs."

"Of course." You let your hand briefly stroke his cheek, then assisted the man in raising him up. He took Halbrand's arms, and you clasped your hands firmly on his legs. You wanted to be the first thing he would see as soon as he woke. This was completely unbelievable, you had to be dreaming again. You had convinced yourself that he was gone, that you would never gaze upon him once more. You were certain of it. However you decided not to let hope re-enter your heart just yet, because as it stood, you had now been carrying Halbrand for miles, and his eyes remained shut. There was little talk exchanged between you and this Southlander who had found your love. You didn't have the strength for it. All you could do, or think about, was saving Halbrand. Eventually, after many hours, you reached the clearing and sighted the base camp in the distance. It was then that Nisarien crossed your mind, and the guilt couldn't help but wash over you. Despite all that had transpired, and despite the darkness that was starting to win within you, you remained conflicted about it all. Yet, by the same token, you were glad to be rid of her, for she had been most bothersome. You only hoped now that you would get away with it.

Luckily, something happened to bring you away from those thoughts. Your name entered the air, and you looked down to see Halbrand's beautiful hazel eyes sleepily upon you. You smiled as wide as the seas themselves. "We've got you. It's going to be alright."
"He is awake then?" asked the man.
"Yes. We must hurry!" you urged him on, and you quickly made your way up the hill and to the camp, heading straight inside the healing tent. The Númenóreans were shocked and relieved to see the Southlands king alive. Word quickly spread amongst the survivors, and soon a small crowd had gathered to catch a glimpse of your love. They all stood in silence whilst you and the other healers worked to do what could be done to save him. Halbrand remained in and out of consciousness, he had no strength yet to keep his eyes on you. You just sat by his side, clutching tightly to his hand.

"Please, everyone, give the man some air." spoke a calm yet commanding voice. You turned your head to see who it belonged to. It was another elf. He had beautiful dark skin with a kind face, and he wore this magnificently detailed armour that you couldn't help but stare at. The people did as he asked and dispersed, and he knelt by your side, introducing himself to you. Arondir was his name. "Don't worry, my lady. Lord Halbrand is a fighter, I saw that much during the battle. He will heal."
"You fought beside him?"
"Yes. He is a man truly worthy to be king. Although I do not know how much of a kingdom remains for him to rule." he spoke gravely of the Southlands. "The mountain destroyed much... I do not know how any of us survived."
"I suppose it takes more than nature herself to defeat us." Halbrand spoke up, coughing a little.

You stroked his cheek. "Hey hey, be quiet, save your strength." You watched him turn his head slightly so his lips could graze your skin. You smiled at him, and squeezed his hand a little tighter. Arondir rose to his feet. "Forgive me, but I must return to my love as well." He placed his hand on your shoulder before he walked away. You pressed the back of your hand to Halbrand's forehead, and you looked to one of the healers with concern. "His fever isn't going down."
"Give it time, my lady. We've only just gotten to him. Give it time." they replied, their voice calm and reassuring. You nodded silently and turned back to your love. "I thought... I thought I'd lost you." your voice breaking as you began to weep.
"You may lose me yet, my love."
"No! Don't you dare speak of it. I found you again and I'm not letting go, okay? There will be no more death this day. I will not have it." You brought his hand up to your mouth, letting your lips linger on it lovingly. You prayed for his survival. You needed it more than anything. You were not facing the darkness alone.