The Glory of Fulfillment

Not a drabble but a shortie none the less.



We crest the hill and all eyes widen, mouths hang slack. There are so many. Like malevolent ants engulfing a hapless victim. Tens of Thousands.

Not even whispered prayers reach my ears. No one has enough hope to pray.

I look out on the sea of foes and the boasts over the fire last night are forgotten. I know I will not live to see another hour on this plain, much less the plains of my home. I know I am not alone feeling this. But that realization is no comfort.

There are too many.

The King rides by shouting words of encouragement. I see the same hopelessness of survival in his eyes. But there is also rage, and pride…and vengeance.

No words of hope, no words that fighting well will mean survival. Words meant to give courage to forlorn hope. Words meant to help us die well. Words meant to give courage that if we do die well, those behind us, waiting for us, will survive.



The King cries “Death” and I shout the word with all my being, chasing away my fear of it.

I shout the declaration again and the fear is gone.

The last echoes of our challenge and promise fade.

I feel the corners of my mouth turn up in a malevolent smile.

I will die well.



A/N:

The first chap was a specific hero and you will have to leave a review if you haven't figured it out. :p

I originally meant for Chapter 1 to stand alone but this one demanded to be written. This chapter was inspired by a scene from the theatrical release of RotK and is from the view of one of the non-descript soldiers.