Chapter 49: Free to Choose

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They were surrounded. Aragorn charged like a lion, leading his outnumbered army into battle. The men initially followed Aragorn before fanning out to meet the enemy.

Estelwen's swords struck in all directions, but her path was straight. Anorath was waiting for her to come and fight, and that was all that mattered. She could not see or hear anything other than what was blocking the path. She did not even notice that the orcs were thinned out before her – all because of Legolas' arrows. They had been separated since the battle commenced, but Legolas tried to keep near her, or at least within his arrow's reach. He saw where she was headed. "Estelwen!" He released another arrow into the orc at her left, but she did not turn around. She was heading straight for the side of the mountain. He started in her direction, but a deep bellowing caught his attention. A cave troll back-handed Aragorn, knocking him to the ground. Legolas was mentally begging Aragorn to get back on his feet in the next second. When he did not, Legolas began to fight his way towards him.

Estelwen clambered up towards base of the mountain, a sword in each hand. The ground was slanted uphill to where Anorath was, but it was not steep enough to require hands to climb. Anorath, who was watching the battle, glanced down at Estelwen before turning around from the ledge he stood upon. Estelwen quickened her pace, anxious that he was now out of her sight. When she reached the level he was on, he was standing with a torch in hand. Black streaks of hair fell across his face, his chin taunt. He closed his eyes and muttered a string of incantations. A black line circled the ground around Estelwen. Anorath lowered the torch to the black ring. The flames licked up the blackened earth like straw. The fire rose until as high as Estelwen's waist.

This is a challenge. He isn't trying to kill me. Not yet. Estelwen did not budge, but her palms were beginning to sweat.

Anorath's eyes trailed over her face until he noticed her hands. He stared. Without warning, he barked a harsh word, and the flames shriveled into smoke. He growled. "You are cursed."

Estelwen glared. "Better cursed than a murderer and betrayer of your own kind."

"You are foolish to believe everything that the elves have told you."

"Not them. What told me is the dying breath of everyone you killed!" At the last word, Estelwen lunged at him, unable to contain her fury. She launched a series of complex attacks. Anorath did not counter-attack, but he did not back away either. Soon, their blades locked. Estelwen grunted. He's too strong for me to keep this standstill. But no! I will not back down.

Anorath threw out a one-word spell. Tiny flames danced along his blade, spreading close to Estelwen's face. She twisted his blade away from her and spun around, raising her sword. But Anorath's blade did not strike down like she expected.

His sword hung in his hand, its tip grazing the dirt. "You may be cursed, but your element can be yours again. But this time, in its entirety."

"Impossible!" She felt the deception in the air, but she could not sense any lies in his words. As if he was ever concerned about my power.

"The Valar left you the moment you were born. The elves have failed you. Man has nothing to offer and neither does any other race. They are not like you. They do not understand the forces that make us who we are. Only the arts of the Necromancer can fill the void you feel inside."

Dark magic. Estelwen glanced at his eyes, red as the heart of Mount Doom. "You presume too much." She lunged, not giving him the chance to respond. She felt that void inside of her, that void that had felt so drawn to the Witch King's magic. She had rejected the dark magic before, and she was not about to accept it now. The fact that Anorath knew of that emptiness both infuriated and scared her. I have no leverage. I know nothing of his weaknesses.

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