Today will be a day to be remembered and to make songs of. Today we will fight! Today I shall meet my dear cousins again! As I fasten my helm I hear the horns of my brother.
The battle doesn't start out very well. Long have we prepared for it, but now it won't go according to our plans. Even the troops of Turgon seem to be too small. I curse a little, I pray a bit. As I can only wish for the best I wish that Maedhros will come.
Far away beyond the rising smoke I can see their banners. I rejoice; they are coming at last! The forces of the Noldor shall meet. Fingon and Turgon on the west side and the sons of Fëanor on the other side. Morgoth will be trapped between us.
Turgon gives orders across the field. I feel ashamed that I can't guide my troops to victory. I have been sundered from my friends again. For a moment I thought I saw Maedhros on the other side of the plain, but then he disappeared. I hope he's unharmed. And I hope he'll come.
He is still not here and I begin to worry. Our army decreases and the orcs keep pouring out from their hateful fortress. Even I am weary, but there is no time for rest until Morgoth has been defeated. I remember Maedhros' inspiring words the last time we met. I remember his smile as he envisioned our victory, and I keep on fighting to gain what he longed for: triumph.
We are losing hope. I fear to look down and see the faces of the dead because among them are friends and kinsmen of my own. I see Maedhros nowhere; all I see are corpses, orcs and balrogs. Why is it that something always comes between us?
The ground trembles and the fiery balrog towers up before me. I look him into the eyes showing that I am not frightened. I battle Gothmog and my heart is both sad and fierce. I am close to winning my enemy when I hear the ground tremble again. Another balrog has come. But Maedhros isn't here and I don't know why. I know he will come, as he always does - I come to him and he comes to me.
Even if I continue to fight I know only a miracle can save me. I swing my sword and glance at the plains in the east. Then - at last - I see the troops of my cousin. I can almost see his fiery hair, I can almost hear his voice. I nearly weep knowing I won't meet him, and yet I almost smile knowing that he came after all. A blow causes my helm to quake and I lose consciousness.
The war is still going on when I leave it, but at least I know he came.