Hey, I'm back! Still can't think of a beginning for a sequel to 'Unusual Heritage', but I thought of an end! Here's an idea, let me know if you don't like it! Or if you do, tell me why!

As usual, nothing belongs to me. Characters, except Aniarel and Jenien, belong to the God of Fantasy, Mr J.R.R.Tolkien. The song is 'Fields of Gold', by Eva Cassidy. If you haven't heard it, I suggest you go find a copy. It makes me cry every time I listen to it. Or then again, it could just be me . . . ANYWAY!

Are you sitting comfortably? Then I'll begin . . .



*~*~*



Fields Of Gold



You'll remember me when the west wind moves

Among the fields of barley

You can tell the sun in his jealous sky

When we walked in fields of gold



Legolas ran between the struggling shapes, calling out her name.

'Aniarel!'

There was no answer. Drawing his daggers, he cut into the ranks of orcs that surrounded him, slashing his way across the battleground. All around him, he could hear the sounds of the living and the dying, the injured and the well, as they fought with frightening ferocity. His sharp eyes scanned the heaving mass of bodies. Where was she?



So she took her love for to gaze a while

Among the fields of barley

In his arms she fell as her hair came down

Among the fields of gold



Suddenly he heard a familiar cry. Turning with speed of a cat, Legolas saw his beloved wife impaled on an orc blade. The pain in her face was reflected on his own as he gave a howl of despair. He hacked a path through the bodies around him, uncaring whether friend or foe fell beneath his hand. He dragged his daggers across the orc's throat, catching his love as she slid from the blackened blade. Her black curls fell around his arms and shoulders as he lowered her to the ground.



Will you stay with me? Will you be my love

Among the fields of barley?

You can tell the sun in his jealous sky

When we walked in fields of gold



'Aniarel?'

He stroked her hair from her face, with hands soaked in her blood. She lay in his arms, a pale shadow of the woman she was. Legolas howled, an animalistic noise that carried to the far corners of the field in which they did battle. All around them the orcs were retreating, either injured or dead, but for them, only the field remained. The golden barley field where they had walked with their daughter under the warm sun only days before.



I never made promises lightly

And there have been some that I've broken

But I swear, in the days still left,

We will walk in fields of gold

We will walk in fields of gold



All sound became silent, all light faded from the sky. Legolas was aware of many friends gathered around them, their tears a silent testament to the lives Aniarel had touched. She lifted her head, gazing into her lover's eyes with her last vestige of strength. He tried to smile, to reassure her, but the words died on his lips. Aniarel gave a silent scream of despair and fell, lifeless, into his embrace. Legolas wept for the love that could never come again.



Many years have passed since those summer days

Among the fields of barley

See the children run as the sun goes down

As you lie in fields of gold



The sun glistened off ripened barley that rippled in the summer breeze. Children ran through the waving stalks, laughing and playing without a care. They would never have dreamed that many years ago, in this very field, their grandmother had died defending their beloved mother. Legolas felt old, and weary. Soon he would go with Gimli, across the Sea, and leave the land that had given him so much joy . . . and so much pain. He smiled sadly, quietly greeting his lost love with tears.



You'll remember me when the west wind moves

Among the fields of barley



Jenien, his daughter, knelt beside him, her face reflecting the sadness he felt. She, too, remembered the day of her mother's death, having run from Galadriel's protection to find them. She remembered standing beside her father and comforting him in the moments after Aniarel breathed her last. She lay her head on her father's shoulder, feeling his love wash over her. Aniarel would never be forgotten. Her legacy lives on, in her daughter, and her grandchildren.



You can tell the sun in his jealous sky

When we walked in fields of gold



She lived on in his heart, too, a heart that had never broken, knowing its duty lay with his daughter, and Aniarel's memory. Legolas sighed. Perhaps now her ghost would finally be laid to rest.



When we walked in fields of gold . . .