Category: Lord of the Rings

The Orcs have taken the city of Minas Tirith, almost all seven levels. The fields of Pelennor are scattered with Rohan casualties as well as that of the enemy. Their struggle continues. This is, however, small comfort for the remaining soldiers of the Citadel. They stand behind the doors of the penultimate level, their spears askew towards the entrance.

On Pelennor Fields, unaware of the tragic suicide that has taken place on the highest level of the Citadel, the battle between the Rohirrim and Mordor Orcs continues. With all their will and strength they smite at the enemy. Their charge might have been seen as a suicide mission, however, as they broke the Orc ranks, the wave of energy and determination has not only had the effect of driving the Orcs back but also given them the initial success of their mission they craved for.

In an almost delirious state of mind and body, Denethor pours a pitcher of oil over his face. This simple and subtle ritual comes off as a kind of absolution of sins in a way. He may be cleansing his soul of all that he had done wrong, which would, in turn, mean that he has recognized and accepted his mistakes such as they are. Alternatively, he may just be finding peace in knowing that he is about to be put to death. It must be a calming and soothing sensation.

At long last, the Riders of Rohan have reached their goal. Riding through the night, filled with exhaustion and elation they come in sight of the war zone. It is much worse than they may have anticipated. The Orcs have breached the city walls. The levels of Minas Tirith are being overrun by Orcs leaving their casualties dead on the streets of the Citadel. The mayhem continues as the unstopping force of the enemy ravages all in their path. Even the mighty White Wizard has fallen to his knees unable to face his worst fear. 

Denethor’s plan of executing himself and his only living heir has come to its final stage. His madness has grabbed hold of his thoughts as well as his actions, and nothing will deter him from his goal. His guards do not hesitate in building the pyre in which both Denethor and Faramir will burn. They will be burning the only current ruler of their realm as well as his only son and heir. As they place Faramir’s body on the platform, an almost inaudible sound escapes his lips.

In his weakened state of mind and body but with determination in his heart, Frodo stumbles forward and comes within sight of the Tower of Cirith Ungol. After the tunnel experience, this particular sight does not bring him relief as much as it otherwise would. To be near this formerly Númenorian outpost, now under the possession of Mordor Orcs, maybe relief in a sense of coming closer to his goal. However, the mere onlook onto this towering menace may provide Frodo with more terror than the hope of having cleared all danger.

The Rohirrim are advancing towards Minas Tirith to aid the army against a common enemy. They take brief breaks along the way so as to arrive at Minas Tirith with as much strength as possible. They have taken a break near a lake. Éomer rides in to report to the King of the situation at their destination.

There may be nothing more frightening than being lost in a dangerous place where everything around you screams malice. The tunnel appears to have all the characteristics of a cemetery, only the corpses and leftover pieces of skeletons are exposed for everyone to see. The only thing binding them together, instead of dirt, are spider webs.

An unrecognizable shadow of a once spirited Hobbit makes his way towards a tunnel. He is incredibly weak stumbling forward to the path-showing Gollum. His expression presents us with his feelings, not guided by overpowering manipulation of the Ring but rather his self-preserving inner voice. Although heavily influenced by his enemy, Frodo can still sense and distinguish right from wrong. 

It is always easier to blame someone else for one’s shortcomings than to admit to wrongdoing. It is also a very draining experience, to feel anger toward someone and being unable to forgive. Anger takes a lot of energy out of an individual. Over time it becomes habitual. It envelops us into a circle that is not easily broken.