932: To Love Another Soul – Chapter TwelvePosted: January 11, 2015
Title: To Love Another Soul
Author: Writer of Eryn Lasgalen
Media: Books / Movies
Topic: Lord of the Rings
Genre: Romance / Adventure
URL: Chapter 12
Critiqued by KittyNoodles
***For the sake of comedy, this riff features a bit of Sindarin. All translations can be found at the end.***
Kitty: Hello, Patrons, and welcome to 2015! As a belated New Year’s present, I’ve gotten you all another chapter of To Love Another Soul!
Last time I knocked Kiara out in order to prevent her from torching the place, so this week I have Scythe with me again as a meat shield in case Amariah decides to murder me in retaliation.
Scythe: I was promised babes.
*Kitty throws a stuffed Babe plushie at Scythe’s head.*
Scythe: That’s not funny.
Kitty: In the last chapter, there was a lot of highly repetitive wangsting and mushiness, so much so that we ran out of ways to insult it. Oh, and we discovered Galadriel has scars all over her face.
Scythe: *flatly* She has what?
*Scythe stuffs the Babe plushie in Kitty’s mouth and momentarily excuses himself to read the previous chapter. He comes back looking very irritated.*
Scythe: Now we can continue.
Chapter 12: For Love and Sacrifice
Kitty: *spitting out the plushie* Shouldn’t that be “For Love and Glory”? I mean, the sacrifice bit is kind of implied already once you say something like, “For love!”
OMG hi again! i’m so sorry i took so long publishing this but i had other things to do and i wanted to write more but i just couldn’t. but i did get around to it eventually and i put it up as soon as i could ;););) more legomance for everyone! SQUEEEEE!
Scythe: It isn’t published, you daft creature! It’s only been posted on the internet for your sadly like-minded peers to read! There’s no fame, no monetary gain from this debacle!
Kitty: Easy, tiger.
Galadriel keeps her promise to fight with me and I keep my promise to fight with Rohan. She departs the very next morning to gather the armed forces of Lothlorien for battle with hope that they will reach the Pelennor in time. For the messanger only arrived last night that Gondor was under siege already.
Scythe: If Galadriel was forced to leave Rohan in order to gather the forces of the Galadhrim, who were those soldiers she and Haldir led into battle at Helm’s Deep?
Kitty: Rent-an-Elf! For all your plot-inconsistent battle needs!
*Scythe slaps Kitty across the back of the head.</i>*
Scythe: Although, on second thought, those Elves in the movie were never explicitly from Lothlórien. They were led by Haldir, sure, and their arrival was accompanied by a much more imposing version of the music played when the Fellowship visited the Wood, but Haldir came bearing a message from Elrond, not Galadriel. Maybe it was a combination of Galadhrim and Elven warriors from Rivendell.
Kitty: That still doesn’t explain why Galadriel needs to go retrieve her warriors for herself. Send Haldir! He’s explicitly from Lothlórien and clearly loyal to you no matter what bullshit you get up to! He won’t run off or “forget” your message or tell your people something else entirely!
I ride to battle beside Legolas, the screams of Nazgul growing louder and more uncomfortable in the distance.
Kitty: That’s an interesting way to say they’re causing you to feel more and more absolutely terrified.
Smoke rises from the Pelennor, and I begin to feel the pre-battle fear creep back into my skin.
Kitty: My mistake. Somehow the cries of the Nazgûl are having absolutely no effect on the Sue.
Scythe: The impending battle, however, is scaring her in spite of her increasingly world-breaking Sue powers.
But I am stronger now, my eyes gleaming with the power of fire and ice and my heritage understood. I can rise against Sauron. And I feel that perhaps we can win this fight.
Kitty: Please do not actually attempt to go toe-to-toe with Sauron. Not to put too fine a point on the matter, but the last time somebody directly tried to match might with might against the forces of Evil, a subcontinent was destroyed. And as much as it pains me to say it, Suerinil may have roughly the same power as a Maia at this point.
Legolas keeps up with me on his own horse, and we talk as we ride.
Scythe: About never seeing each other again after this, I hope.
Kitty: Poor, naïve, stupid Scythe.
*Scythe stuffs the Babe plushie in Kitty’s mouth again.*
“Saerinil, are you sure this is your decision? You do not have to fight in this battle.”
Scythe: Little late for that now, isn’t it?
Kitty: *dabbing drool off the plushie* Why does this plushie taste like bacon…?
I narrow my glittering violet eyes at him, my hair sweeping over my shoulder and onto my tight silver armor that Rohan provided for me. My pendant hangs around my neck.
Kitty: Wait, what pendant?
Scythe: The one Galadriel gave her in Lothlórien.
Kitty: Oh, you mean the Pendant of Total Plot Irrelevance! Where’s that been hiding?
Scythe: Probably the same place she pulled this fic from.
“I am sure,” I tell him. “This has become my battle as well. This is the fight I was born to participate in, and my life is intertwined with the lives of these soldiers. My mother has promised to stand by me in the battle.”
Kitty: Your soldiers are screwed.
Scythe: Sure, just march the weight-bearing Sue into battle! Excellent plan!
I look at Legolas. “Has your father made the decision to send troops to your aid?”
Scythe: Sorry, he’s too busy keeping spiders, Orcs, and Creator knows what else from eating his people.
His eyes grow hollow. “I do not know. But if he does, I would be honor if you stand in command beside me.”
Kitty: So… Are we assuming Thranduil isn’t coming either way? Or is this one of those “king commands the commanders who command the troops” deals?
Scythe: I never thought I’d say this, but I desperately hope the Thranduil in this story is the movie version. Movie!Thranduil is so painfully xenophobic that he’d never let Suerinil within five thousand leagues of his kingdom, let alone command his troops.
“And I am honored to fight with you, meleth nin,” I say adoringly, staring into his beautiful blue orbs and leaning over my horse to kiss him.
Kitty: I’ve never wanted so badly for a horse to buck its rider and trample her into paste.
Behind us, Gimli snorts cynically. “You two make me nauseous,” he grumbles, and Legolas shoots him a smug grin before turning back to me, his eyes pained and serious.
Kitty: Look! Gimli’s still Gimli! FIGHT THE POWER, GIMLI! YOU’RE OUR ONLY HOPE!
“I know that even if my father sends troops, he will not come.”
“Then he shall not hear the horns of victory,” I whisper to Legolas comfortingly.
On the fifth day of our ride to the Pelennor, Galadriel rides in, along with an army of Elvish horsemen. Legolas cries out in delight, for King Thranduil has sent half an army from Mirkwood to fight, and even Lord Elrond has accompanied them.
Scythe: Great! And while those lands are all unprotected, the Shadow will swoop in and destroy them! Good job, everyone!
The second commanding officer I do not recognize, tall and dark-haired. But when he speaks to Aragorn, I know who it is immediately.
Kitty: At this rate, it’s probably Beorn.
“Gandalf,” I whisper in awe, as Galadriel dismounts and approaches our company. She offers me a kind smile.
Scythe: That’s “daddy” to you, Sue.
*Kitty throws the Babe plushie at the back of Scythe’s head.*
“I thought-” I ask quietly as she passes, “that he had to remain in the guise of an old man until further notice that Sauron was dead.”
Kitty: None of that was a question.
The Lady’s smile grows. “So I thought as well, but it seems that you do not need protecting, Maethrian. Sauron already knows of your power I am sure, after the display you put on at Helm’s Deep. And we are riding for war. We cannot protect you from danger in the Pelennor, and it is far more practical to fight as a younger man, I’m sure.”
Scythe: At least Galadriel is back to making sense… mostly…
Gandalf speaks to Theoden, and we depart immediately, the Elven cavalry riding with the Rohirrim. Legolas grins at me through the growing darkness as we near the Pelennor. “You have made peace with your mother,” he says happily.
“I have made peace with myself,” I correct him with another quick kiss. We approach a rise above the open fields and I am shocked by the carnage before me. The siege of Helm’s Deep was not nearly as bloody and terrifying as this. A Nazgul swoops overhead, and I cover my ears, cursing my Elven hearing.
Kitty: This close to the Nazgûl, I am stunned she’s still lucid enough to worry about that. I’m also stunned nobody else around her has collapsed to the ground in a fit of blind, pants-pissing terror. That includes the horses.
Nine of us stand in the front of the horsemen: Myself, Legolas, Gimli, Gandalf, Galadriel, Theoden, Eomer, Elrond, and Aragorn. We are the nine in command of the armies.
Kitty: Wrong nine.
Scythe: The fuck they are.
Theoden rides up and down his ranks, his sword held high, and a sense of foreboding grows within me. Some fate shall befall him that I cannot undo.
Scythe: So did you only manage to save Haldir because his death in the movies was already uncanonical? This is a bad time to be splitting hairs like that, Sue.
I am perched atop my silver horse, Legolas beside me, preparing to look death in the eye and ride to battle with my family and company, when Legolas reaches over and turns my head gently.
Kitty: *chanting* Snap her neck! Snap her neck! Snap her neck! Snap her—
“Marry me,” he murmurs quickly, and my jaw drops open.
Kitty: WHAT THE FUCK?
*Scythe bursts into uncontrollable laughter.*
But just then, Theoden calls, “Rohirrim, to Gondor!” And with a rush, we are charging down the hill, adrenaline rushing through my bones. All I can think is that before I die, I will marry Legolas, and there is nothing Sauron can do about it.
Scythe: *still laughing* What, will you fuck him on horseback?!
Kitty: And she’s gonna make poor Sauron watch! The fiend!
I feel my fingertips begin to glow with golden light that erupted around the battlefield, and I drew my sword and slashed at every orc that came at me. Flames glowed in my hands and I tossed fireball after fireball into the offending hordes. Behind me, a tidal wave backed up, then sloshed about, parting around me as I rode forward and taking out hundreds of orcs.
Scythe: Damn, that is some wild sex!
A tingle at the back of my neck, the same feeling I’d had when I had nearly died in Helm’s Deep, puts me on high alert. I spin around, only to feel more afraid than I ever have in my life. The Witch-king of Angmar towers over me, spiked mace in hand, I shoot a fireball, but it has no effect.
Kitty: You think you’re afraid? The poor Witch-king just walked in on you two boinking in the middle of the battlefield!
Scythe: *Witch-king* Oh, Evil, why?! Somebody get me some bleach for my eyes!
“Crap,” I mutter, reverting back to modern English. It swings its mace, and I duck, running around to the side and having a go at it with my sword.
Kitty: I’m not sure a word originating from a poem written in 1801 actually qualifies as modern…
Scythe: Oh, yes, because in the throes of extreme terror you’re still somehow able to run literal circles around the Witch-king.
It blocks the strike and has another go at me, when I hear a loud, “look out!” I dodge the mace, spinning around to see Eowyn, dressed as a soldier, bearing a Rohirric sword.
Scythe: I will be very, very angry if she steals this kill from Éowyn.
Eowyn tosses me a bow off a dead Elf, and after a slight moment of conscience, I decide to use it. I notch an arrow, and it glows with golden light from my power. I glance down quickly, and see that my pendant is glittering.
Kitty: You’re in close bloody combat! Why the hell do you need a bow and arrows?!
“Fire!” Eowyn shouts, and I obey, the arrow soaring and lighting the Witch-king’s cloak with a flickering golden flame. I shoot another arrow, and the fire grows and spreads. I take my chance and stab the cloaked figure, and he weakens visibly.
Kitty: Why does Suerinil suddenly need weapons to channel her fire? She was throwing fireballs straight from her hands not two minutes ago.
I nod to Eowyn, who rushes forward and hurls her weapon like a javelin at Angmar’s face, and he falls to the ground. But he swings his mace forward one last time as he dies, and catches us both, and we tumble with him, my eyes closing and my mind slipping into sub-consciousness.
Kitty: Firstly, if that mace struck a direct hit, whichever of you caught it first should be dead or dying very rapidly. That thing is very spiky and very heavy. Secondly, if he’s dying on top of you, either his subsequent implosion or his “self” dissipating should be causing you both even more damage, which, after the mace blow, would definitely kill you.
Scythe: While I’m glad Éowyn did indeed get to strike the killing blow, Suerinil’s showboating took away a lot of its impact. And Éowyn should not have needed a cue to cut him down.
I wake in the Houses of Healing, Legolas at my bedside.
Kitty: This is like the third or fourth time this chick has awakened with Legolas by her bedside. God damn you, Eryn! Find a better way to transition!
“Do you want to get married now?” I ask groggily, and he smiles, his midnight blue eyes twinkling in the dim light.
Scythe: Nothing says, “Bestatham meneg lû po i chaust hen,”* quite like waking up half-dead after a bloody battle.
“You are weak, Saerinil. Your shoulder is badly wounded.”
Kitty: So is that a no on the snoo-snoo…?
“Is Eowyn okay?”
Scythe: Apparently the snoo-snoo is indeed on hold.
Legolas nods. “She is still injured, and barely conscious, but Aragorn found athelas and healed her. Faramir is at her side now, talking. I believe he is pleased to have a companion in the Houses of Healing.”
Scythe: Which basically means there will be more than one marriage this night.
“Are you okay?”
“Peachy,” he says.
Kitty: And highly anachronistic. And a little hobbitish.
“And my mother?”
“Also fine. Anyone else?” His smile turns to a full on smirk, but his eyes betray his relief that I am awake and able to speak.
Kitty: *reading the script* “The part of LEGOLAS shall be played by Edward Cullen. The part of SAERINIL shall be played by Isabella Swan.”
Scythe: That explains things.
I think hard, and then it occurrs to me. “Theoden?”
His smile drops, replaced by an expression of pain and sadness. “Dead,” he says softly. “I am sorry.”
Scythe: Oh, so she couldn’t save Théoden because she was attempting to steal Éowyn’s moment of glory… which itself was a direct result of Théoden falling in battle and getting pinned by his dead horse.
Kitty: Nope, she’s still a douche.
Guilt fills me. I knew something was to happen, yet I did nothing to prevent it. What had become of me? It was my fault Theoden was dead.
Kitty: Can we please have one character death where she doesn’t make the event completely about her feelings?
“It’s not your fault, meleth nin,” Legolas assured me, catching my stricken expression. “We did all we could, but he is gone.”
Scythe: We? Weren’t you mûmakil-surfing when he went down?
“Valar,” I whispered, my eyes teared up, “why don’t we just get married on the spot? So I never have to part from you again.”
Scythe: That’s not how Elf weddings work.
Kitty: Cenin den i limmida anin lû.**
Scythe: Hush, you.
“I might be of some assistance,” came a voice from the other side of the room, and my face broke into a watery smile. Lady Galadriel strode over to us, her armor a bit dented, her face a bit scratched up, but still very much alive. Likely she and Aragorn and Gandalf had been healing those close to death for the past few hours.
Kitty: That’s also not how Elf weddings work. In fact, I’m pretty sure that’s illegal.
Scythe: Maybe she plans on setting up the feast that comes before the wedding.
Kitty: This is not an appropriate time for that sort of celebration.
“Are you allowed to do that?” I ask in awe. I never knew whether Elven tradition even allowed us to marry in such a place as this.
Scythe: That depends on how she plans to help. As for your location: It’s inopportune, but nothing says you can’t do the deed here.
Galadriel laughs mirthfully. “It matters not. I have never been one to follow custom so closely. And if you truly love each other, I will grant you lifelong union.”
Kitty: Well, some sources do indicate that Galadriel and Celeborn were lovers for quite a while before they finally considered themselves wed…
Scythe: And in this fic, Galadriel did decide to screw a Maia; canonically, there’s only one Elf who’s ever done that. But Tolkien was very clear that Elven parents have very little say in who their children decide to marry, beyond offering up a marriage challenge to be completed beforehand. Galadriel doesn’t actually have the power to grant them anything.
Legolas’s eyes sparkle as he looks at me. “Shall we?” He asked, and from my cot in the Houses of Healing, I nod.
Scythe: They then proceeded to screw in front of Galadriel. Like barbarians.
Kitty: Poor Galadriel was never the same after that.
Galadriel dips her head. “Very well. Will you forever cherish each others’ sacred company for the rest of your immortal lives.”
Kitty: If you’re going to spit in the laws of Tolkien’s canon, you could at least use proper punctuation.
Scythe: Is this the part where we throw rice at them?
She waves her hand. “That is that, then. You are wed.”
My jaw drops. “That’s it?”
Scythe: Well, not until you fuck, but apparently Galadriel is going to let you do that privately.
Galadriel shrugs slightly. “There are, of course, more complicated ceremonies usually implemented in times of peace, but as long as our futures are uncertain, you deserve to be together as long as possible.”
Kitty: Oh, ci orch ‘waur,*** Eryn.
Scythe: Rude. Orcs don’t fail this badly at things.
“So you skipped a little bit.”
Scythe: Yes. The fucking.
“Indeed, I did,” she says with a chuckle, her face less strained than when I had last seen her. “But for you, and for the love you share, what I have provided you is enough until fate allows us a glimpse at a certain future.”
Kitty: I think Galadriel is trying to keep Legolas from actually tying the knot.
Scythe: So THAT’S why she came out of Lothlórien! To keep an eye on the little demon!
I smile, laughing breathlessly as I kiss my Elf into oblivion. “Meleth,” I mumble, receiving a wide grin against my lips. We break away from the kiss, and I giggle, my eyes turning more to a pale violet as the dawn light streams into the hall.
Kitty: Dude, don’t suck face in front of your mom. Gross.
Legolas offers me one last smile before getting to his feet. “We are riding to the Black Gate,” he says, his voice apologetic. You must stay here; you are badly wounded.”
Kitty: Anyone want to bet Suerinil doesn’t take this well?
“What?” I shout indignantly. “Sorry, no. That is not going to happen.”
Scythe: How shocking.
Galadriel arches an eyebrow. “You are still injured,” she reminds me, resting a comfortaing hand on my shoulder.
Scythe: Come on, Galadriel, don’t be such a wet blanket. You can dangle her about at the Black Gate like meat for a dog. Except the dog is the armies of Mordor.
“I don’t care,” I insist, climbing out of the cot and grabbing my sword that lies beside the bed, propped up up against it. I slide Celestion into its sheath and dust off my armor. “I’m coming with you, and none of you can stop me.”
Scythe: Why wasn’t her sword already sheathed if the sheath was right there?
Kitty: Why is Suerinil still in her armor?! She took a mace to her [body part]!
I march after Legolas, and this time, he doesn’t even try to keep me from accompanying him. It is a lost cause, after all.
Kitty: More like he doesn’t even acknowledge that you’re following him.
i hope you likey ;D and i hope you review. reviews are like little heart-shaped cookies with m&ms and chocolate chips all over them to me. ;);)
Kitty: Thiog sui úan. Thostog sui úan. Gi fuion; i nôl gîn lost. Gin ú-velin.****
Scythe: *patting Kitty on the shoulder* There, there. We can’t have too many more chapters left.
We’ll see you next time, Patrons.