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Description
Inch by inch you followed Aragorn; who was in quite the hurry. You were nervous- Nervous of such evil that lay before. The warrior held a metal torch, which blazed in furry as Aragorn turned corner after corner through the tunnel.

The Fellowship reached the end of the tunnel, burrowing into an open cavern. You gulped lowly, peering over a jagged cliff as eyes darted right and left. Evil lay here; you could feel it. As you walked, you noticed detailed steps, which lead to a corridor. Light was rare in the darkness, for everywhere your eyes lay upon was an ungodly dark and mucky color.

You grasped the hilt of you sword cautiously, your mossy-colored cloak swaying behind you. “Who enters my domain?” A sudden voice rasped from the large cliff facing front. You froze, gripping your sword much more. As you glanced amongst your friends, you noticed barley a hint of fear in their eyes. You were the only one showing fear.

You swallowed another wad of fear, shaking your head softly. Show no one fear. The Fellowship all turned around as a King-like man appeared, transparent to the stairs behind him. “One who will have your allegiance.” Aragorn spoke.

“The Dead do not suffer the living to pass.” The dead king growled. You straightened your back and evened out your shoulders, narrowing your eyes. “You will suffer me.” Aragorn’s voice was that of a King; demanding and intimidating.

The Dead King started to laugh, his skeleton face smirking in mock to Aragorn. As his laugh continued, behind your group a translucent city of rocks began to appear against the walls. You look on in horror as many other spirits formed of dead warriors, spears and weapons held high.

“The way is shut.” The man growled. “It was made by those who are dead. And the Dead keep it.” He reminded. You scowled lightly, looking between him and the army of Dead. The dead circled around the Fellowship, causing your back to abruptly hit Legolas.

The Elf looked at you in concern, but your own blue eyes were dead set on the spirits. What hell have Aragorn brought forth? “The way is shut.” The King hissed again, reminding you as if you had forgotten. “Now you must die.” You felt the hand that held your sword begin to pulse as they got closer and closer.

You heard the clanking of wood, but before you could react Legolas had shot an arrow at the King. It went straight through his forehead, only angering the Dead King much more. Aragorn, however, did not seem fazed. “I summon you to fulfill your oath.”

Aragorn and The King walked towards each other, causing you to hold back from retrieving your friend and finding a way out. “None but the king of Gondor may command me!” The Dead man spat. Aragorn pulled out a sword, intricate writing along the blade.

The Dead King let out a yell as he brought his own sword down on Aragorn, aiming to kill your friend. Aragorn’s sword met with his, causing a struggle of strength. You stared in astonishment, cocking your head. You have never seen Aragorn use such a sword…

“That line was broken!” The Dead King gasped in astonishment and anger. Aragorn put the sword up to the King’s neck, grabbing his collar. “It has been remade.” Aragorn said. He pushed the King away, looking around at the army of Dead. You stiffened, narrowing your eyes at the group.

“Fight for us… and regain your honor.” Aragorn spoke loudly, making sure all who were dead heard. “What say you?” He walked through the army, sword held high as he stared them down. “What say you?” Aragorn repeated. “You waste your time, Aragorn!” Gimli spat from beside you. They had no honor in life, they have none now in death.” The Dwarf said. You nodded in agreement, for you want nothing more than to leave.

Aragorn continued without falter, “I am Isildur’s heir. Fight for me… and I will hold your oaths fulfilled!” He spoke, raising his sword at the dead. His eyes met with the Dead King again, “What say you!?” Aragorn yelled. The King simply smirked.

The Dead King had formulated a plan with Aragorn; that you would all take down the ships setting to the battle. The Orcs would not expect that. So for now, you were sitting on a wooden box, awaiting the point of arrival at the battle.

“Lle tyava quel?” (How are you fairing) A soft-spoken voice came from beside you. You looked up as Legolas sat on a box beside you, studying your face. “Amin dele…” (I am worried) You whispered in response. “What is worrying you?” Legolas asked.

You shrugged your shoulders, looking at the wooden planks beneath your boots. “I feel sick… For the thought of losing this battle is too much to bear.” Legolas put a gentle hand on your back, rubbing in circles. “(Y/n)… Luck has been ever grateful, and will continue on.” He mumbled sweetly.

Your blue eyes looked up at Legolas, sighing as you lay your cheek against his shoulder. Your Elven lover held you close, finding gentleness in such a close act not many Elves participate in. “We are nearing the battle. Get down.” Aragorn advised as he walked past.

Legolas nodded, bringing you to the side of the ship. You could hear the clanking of swords and the battle cries of men. You waited for what felt like days as the ships came near land. Orcs were complaining, yelling for the orcs they were waiting for to get off.

Aragorn jumped into view, pouncing over the side. You, Gimli, and Legolas followed, drawing your weapons with a smirk. The group of Orcs smirked, figuring they could take you four on. Wrong. “There’s plenty for the both of us. May the best Dwarf win.” Gimli spoke to Legolas. You smiled softly at their rivalry.

Just as you ran forward, the spirits of the dead appeared behind, causing the orcs to back away in fear. The Dead crossed through you as your sword sliced through Orc after Orc, causing a shiver to run through your spine. “Never will I get use to such a thing!” You hissed.

As you finished off the pack of orcs, you halted to evaluate the situation. There were Men and Orcs fighting, large Mûmakil with their six tusks, and now the spirits of the Dead. You gripped your sword, jumping onto a boulder, sliding down with ease as you took the head off of two Orcs. Today, you were going to show no fear. Today, you were going to prove your worth as a female Elf of the Fellowship of the Ring.

Description
Inch by inch you followed Aragorn; who was in quite the hurry. You were nervous- Nervous of such evil that lay before. The warrior held a metal torch, which blazed in furry as Aragorn turned corner after corner through the tunnel.

The Fellowship reached the end of the tunnel, burrowing into an open cavern. You gulped lowly, peering over a jagged cliff as eyes darted right and left. Evil lay here; you could feel it. As you walked, you noticed detailed steps, which lead to a corridor. Light was rare in the darkness, for everywhere your eyes lay upon was an ungodly dark and mucky color.

You grasped the hilt of you sword cautiously, your mossy-colored cloak swaying behind you. “Who enters my domain?” A sudden voice rasped from the large cliff facing front. You froze, gripping your sword much more. As you glanced amongst your friends, you noticed barley a hint of fear in their eyes. You were the only one showing fear.

You swallowed another wad of fear, shaking your head softly. Show no one fear. The Fellowship all turned around as a King-like man appeared, transparent to the stairs behind him. “One who will have your allegiance.” Aragorn spoke.

“The Dead do not suffer the living to pass.” The dead king growled. You straightened your back and evened out your shoulders, narrowing your eyes. “You will suffer me.” Aragorn’s voice was that of a King; demanding and intimidating.

The Dead King started to laugh, his skeleton face smirking in mock to Aragorn. As his laugh continued, behind your group a translucent city of rocks began to appear against the walls. You look on in horror as many other spirits formed of dead warriors, spears and weapons held high.

“The way is shut.” The man growled. “It was made by those who are dead. And the Dead keep it.” He reminded. You scowled lightly, looking between him and the army of Dead. The dead circled around the Fellowship, causing your back to abruptly hit Legolas.

The Elf looked at you in concern, but your own blue eyes were dead set on the spirits. What hell have Aragorn brought forth? “The way is shut.” The King hissed again, reminding you as if you had forgotten. “Now you must die.” You felt the hand that held your sword begin to pulse as they got closer and closer.

You heard the clanking of wood, but before you could react Legolas had shot an arrow at the King. It went straight through his forehead, only angering the Dead King much more. Aragorn, however, did not seem fazed. “I summon you to fulfill your oath.”

Aragorn and The King walked towards each other, causing you to hold back from retrieving your friend and finding a way out. “None but the king of Gondor may command me!” The Dead man spat. Aragorn pulled out a sword, intricate writing along the blade.

The Dead King let out a yell as he brought his own sword down on Aragorn, aiming to kill your friend. Aragorn’s sword met with his, causing a struggle of strength. You stared in astonishment, cocking your head. You have never seen Aragorn use such a sword…

“That line was broken!” The Dead King gasped in astonishment and anger. Aragorn put the sword up to the King’s neck, grabbing his collar. “It has been remade.” Aragorn said. He pushed the King away, looking around at the army of Dead. You stiffened, narrowing your eyes at the group.

“Fight for us… and regain your honor.” Aragorn spoke loudly, making sure all who were dead heard. “What say you?” He walked through the army, sword held high as he stared them down. “What say you?” Aragorn repeated. “You waste your time, Aragorn!” Gimli spat from beside you. They had no honor in life, they have none now in death.” The Dwarf said. You nodded in agreement, for you want nothing more than to leave.

Aragorn continued without falter, “I am Isildur’s heir. Fight for me… and I will hold your oaths fulfilled!” He spoke, raising his sword at the dead. His eyes met with the Dead King again, “What say you!?” Aragorn yelled. The King simply smirked.

The Dead King had formulated a plan with Aragorn; that you would all take down the ships setting to the battle. The Orcs would not expect that. So for now, you were sitting on a wooden box, awaiting the point of arrival at the battle.

“Lle tyava quel?” (How are you fairing) A soft-spoken voice came from beside you. You looked up as Legolas sat on a box beside you, studying your face. “Amin dele…” (I am worried) You whispered in response. “What is worrying you?” Legolas asked.

You shrugged your shoulders, looking at the wooden planks beneath your boots. “I feel sick… For the thought of losing this battle is too much to bear.” Legolas put a gentle hand on your back, rubbing in circles. “(Y/n)… Luck has been ever grateful, and will continue on.” He mumbled sweetly.

Your blue eyes looked up at Legolas, sighing as you lay your cheek against his shoulder. Your Elven lover held you close, finding gentleness in such a close act not many Elves participate in. “We are nearing the battle. Get down.” Aragorn advised as he walked past.

Legolas nodded, bringing you to the side of the ship. You could hear the clanking of swords and the battle cries of men. You waited for what felt like days as the ships came near land. Orcs were complaining, yelling for the orcs they were waiting for to get off.

Aragorn jumped into view, pouncing over the side. You, Gimli, and Legolas followed, drawing your weapons with a smirk. The group of Orcs smirked, figuring they could take you four on. Wrong. “There’s plenty for the both of us. May the best Dwarf win.” Gimli spoke to Legolas. You smiled softly at their rivalry.

Just as you ran forward, the spirits of the dead appeared behind, causing the orcs to back away in fear. The Dead crossed through you as your sword sliced through Orc after Orc, causing a shiver to run through your spine. “Never will I get use to such a thing!” You hissed.

As you finished off the pack of orcs, you halted to evaluate the situation. There were Men and Orcs fighting, large Mûmakil with their six tusks, and now the spirits of the Dead. You gripped your sword, jumping onto a boulder, sliding down with ease as you took the head off of two Orcs. Today, you were going to show no fear. Today, you were going to prove your worth as a female Elf of the Fellowship of the Ring.