‹ Prequel: A Burden
An Acceptance
A Fool's Hope
Raina unsheathed her sword slowly, touching the tip to her forehead before turning to the nearest guard with an unnerving calm about her.
The guard was not prepared for a girl who could handle a weapon as well –if not better- than himself, and was taken down easily.
Not that Raina aimed to kill anyone. That was the last thing she –or anyone on the side of freedom- needed. They could not turn on each other, not now, of all times.
But these people could not get in her way either. Faramir was about to be burned alive, and Raina just knew that she would have a future with him. Call it Elfish intuition or love at first sight, but she could not let him die.
So she set forth, slicing skin, making a few flesh wounds here and there, simply to get them away from her, and to keep them from doing the Stewards orders.
But after a few moments of fighting, Raina knew she could not win. The guards refused to feel pain if they thought their Steward was in danger, and kept getting up to stop Raina as soon as they fell.
It happened in one of those instances when Raina found herself facing the pyre, and Faramir. She would become slightly breathless and, for a brief moment, would forget where she was and what she needed to do.
It was then when the fallen guard struck. Usually she would hear them stand and make a swing at her, so she would have time to twist away and dodge the blow. But here, when the guard attacked from the floor, she had no warning.
She had taken a slice at the back of his knees, causing him to fall. But he had managed to army-crawl over to her, and once she had pushed yet another wounded guard away, he could strike.
He raised his sword so it was level with her back, and, taking a deep breath to steady his arm, swung around.
The sword dug deep into her skin, causing her to cry out and sink to the floor face first. The scream sent haunting shivers up the guards’ spines, because it did not just contain the girl’s pain, but her despair as she realized she had failed. Blood seeped out of her cloak, but she did not care.
Around her, the remaining guards dragged themselves to their feet, all looking down at her still body with no emotion. The guard who had taken her down was helped up by another, and rolled Raina over with his boot.
Her eyes were closed, her small hand gripping her bloody weapon. But as she rolled over like deadweight, her eyes fluttered open, and the guards took a small stagger back in unison.
Her eyes swam with such raw emotion, such desperate hope, that it pierced all their hearts.
Tears flowed down her face without shame as she whispered quietly.
“So close… I could have saved him…” she made eye contact with the nearest guard, gazing up at him frantically.
“Please… he’s your Lord. Please, help me save him…” But one by one, all the guards would drop her stare, for it was too much for them. “Please!” she cried despairingly, but no one stepped forward with a helping hand.
Instead, a young man stepped away from the others with his sword held in his hand loosely. His expression was apologetic, and he almost looked like he wanted to help her.
He slowly raised the weapon over his head, the blade pointing directly to Raina’s heart. Her heart rate increased, but she did not fear the end. She only wished she could have said goodbye…
“Wait.”
Raina’s –as well as everyone else’s- heads jerked up to face the soft command. But it was not the girl’s savior, instead, one with a worse death for her in mind.
The Steward now stood next to the stack of wood, his eyes filled with evil as Raina watched in horror.
“Bind her hands, and take her weapons. Then place her next to my son,” Denethor grinned evilly. “If they want to be together so greatly, then so be it!”
So Raina was lifted and placed onto her death bed, not bothering to struggle against them.
The guard was not prepared for a girl who could handle a weapon as well –if not better- than himself, and was taken down easily.
Not that Raina aimed to kill anyone. That was the last thing she –or anyone on the side of freedom- needed. They could not turn on each other, not now, of all times.
But these people could not get in her way either. Faramir was about to be burned alive, and Raina just knew that she would have a future with him. Call it Elfish intuition or love at first sight, but she could not let him die.
So she set forth, slicing skin, making a few flesh wounds here and there, simply to get them away from her, and to keep them from doing the Stewards orders.
But after a few moments of fighting, Raina knew she could not win. The guards refused to feel pain if they thought their Steward was in danger, and kept getting up to stop Raina as soon as they fell.
It happened in one of those instances when Raina found herself facing the pyre, and Faramir. She would become slightly breathless and, for a brief moment, would forget where she was and what she needed to do.
It was then when the fallen guard struck. Usually she would hear them stand and make a swing at her, so she would have time to twist away and dodge the blow. But here, when the guard attacked from the floor, she had no warning.
She had taken a slice at the back of his knees, causing him to fall. But he had managed to army-crawl over to her, and once she had pushed yet another wounded guard away, he could strike.
He raised his sword so it was level with her back, and, taking a deep breath to steady his arm, swung around.
The sword dug deep into her skin, causing her to cry out and sink to the floor face first. The scream sent haunting shivers up the guards’ spines, because it did not just contain the girl’s pain, but her despair as she realized she had failed. Blood seeped out of her cloak, but she did not care.
Around her, the remaining guards dragged themselves to their feet, all looking down at her still body with no emotion. The guard who had taken her down was helped up by another, and rolled Raina over with his boot.
Her eyes were closed, her small hand gripping her bloody weapon. But as she rolled over like deadweight, her eyes fluttered open, and the guards took a small stagger back in unison.
Her eyes swam with such raw emotion, such desperate hope, that it pierced all their hearts.
Tears flowed down her face without shame as she whispered quietly.
“So close… I could have saved him…” she made eye contact with the nearest guard, gazing up at him frantically.
“Please… he’s your Lord. Please, help me save him…” But one by one, all the guards would drop her stare, for it was too much for them. “Please!” she cried despairingly, but no one stepped forward with a helping hand.
Instead, a young man stepped away from the others with his sword held in his hand loosely. His expression was apologetic, and he almost looked like he wanted to help her.
He slowly raised the weapon over his head, the blade pointing directly to Raina’s heart. Her heart rate increased, but she did not fear the end. She only wished she could have said goodbye…
“Wait.”
Raina’s –as well as everyone else’s- heads jerked up to face the soft command. But it was not the girl’s savior, instead, one with a worse death for her in mind.
The Steward now stood next to the stack of wood, his eyes filled with evil as Raina watched in horror.
“Bind her hands, and take her weapons. Then place her next to my son,” Denethor grinned evilly. “If they want to be together so greatly, then so be it!”
So Raina was lifted and placed onto her death bed, not bothering to struggle against them.