Hey guys, thanks for all those who favorited and reviewed...I LOVE YOU:)))) But so far, I only have one review, and I really hope my story isn't that bad, so please review!!! Hannon-le! ;)


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"Legolas…you must hurry." He looked up and was met by the worried face of Aragorn.

"They're here." Legolas felt his heart drop into the pit of his stomach. No, it was too early. Frantically, he turned to face Vanadiel and saw a similar expression on her face. He understood her: how could you possibly say goodbye to someone that was your other half? How could you willingly bid your heart farewell?

"Legolas, you should go," urged Aragorn "we need you at the front. There's no time to waste." But when he saw the glance between Legolas and Vanadiel, Aragorn turned away. He could almost feel the heat and grief that passed between the two. It was as if the very air between them was hot with emotion, and he couldn't bear to be the one to tear them apart.

Vanadiel's eyes were overflowing with a gripping, seizing fear as they locked with Legolas. She felt the heat of his gaze on her skin and at long last realized the finality of everything.

"Legolas…" she whispered pleadingly, his name being the only thing that she could remember now. He smiled only softly in return, caressing her face gently as if trying to memorize it. His thumb caressed a meandering path across her tear-stricken cheeks as his other hand tenderly brushed a stray piece of hair behind her ear. "Such acceptance," she murmured, his visage growing cloudy through her veil of tears. "Such quiet acceptance that I cannot achieve…" She bent her head to the ground, not daring to meet his hopeless gaze, and not wanting him to witness her collapse "Im harno…"

Oh how hard it was to act strong! He wanted to break down, to dissolve into tears, but yet he had to act strong and capable. But soon, he would be left alone with only his dark thoughts and broken dreams with a mutilated soul. Soon, there would be nothing.

"Legolas! Hurry, now!" He heard the coupled voices of Aragorn and Gimli urging him to get ready in the wake of the thousands upon thousands of Uruk-hai less than half a mile away. He had two minutes, at the most.

There were no words, for they didn't do justice to the kaleidoscope of horror and grief that coursed through his veins. He wanted so much to hold her, to gather her tightly, to press his lips to hers one last time. But yet he knew at the same time that if he did so, neither of them would bear to let go. The most he could do was to let go first. Legolas turned his head away.

"Go now, Vana…leave." Her blood chilled at his cold words. How could he be so cruel, so merciless?

"Wh…what?"

"Did you not hear me? I said leave! Now!" He squeezed his eyes shut and balled his hands into fists, fingers closed so tightly that he could feel the skin break and the rush of warm blood. Why couldn't the pain just tear him apart and be done with it? Why did it have to break him slowly into pieces so small there was nothing left to put back together?

Seeing his frame trembling with a barely contained collapse, she understood. She understood the sacrifice he was making for her, understood the immensity of the role he had taken on, understood the amount of pain that role implied. Vanadiel smiled slightly through a blinding veil of hot tears.

It was time.

"Namarië…" she paused. She would not leave the apathy on his shoulders alone. "Namarië, Legolas Thranduilion." Vanadiel closed her eyes, trying her hardest to keep the pain from showing on her features. Valar, that had hurt. It had practically ripped her in two to use such formality with him when tomorrow would never dawn, but she could not leave him alone in his selflessness. She had to let him know...and now it was done.

The world spun before Vanadiel as she turned to leave. The countless faces of Men and Elves faded in and out of her vision as the sky and ground became one. Memories flashed in front of her, and in the midst of it all, she could see his face, ever present, ever beautiful. Too quickly, the ground rose up to meet her eyes. She was falling, falling…the last thing she remembered were the strong arms that surrounded her.


Hazy voices floated in and out of her mind. Abstract images taunted and teased her with meaning, sliding away just before she could reach them. Gradually, light and dark separated and voices began to form themselves into words.

"Is she alright? How long as it been?"

"Poor girl, I hope she wakes up soon."

"I wonder who that young man was? He looked so sad…"

"By Gods, she's breathtaking…"

Vanadiel struggled with her heavy eyelids, trying hard to make them part, to show everyone she was alright. Though none of the words registered in her mind, she could sense a tone of concern tingeing them, and she didn't want to make anyone else worry. At least not now, when…

What was now? Vanadiel struggled to see past the fog that clouded her mind. What was going on? Why couldn't she remember anything?

Suddenly, a boom echoed overhead and with it, Vanadiel's eyes flew open. She knew now. It was the battle…The Last Battle.

Bolting upright, Vanadiel stumbled up, mind shrieking against the throes of realization, her weak body screaming in protest against the effort. She knew the shouts and murmurs around her, but she didn't hear them. She stumbled towards an exit, any exit. Her mind disregarded everything else: the commotion around her, her protesting limbs…all she wanted to do was to go to him. That was all she cared about now.

Finally, her legs could take no more and they collapsed from under her. Vanadiel folded into a bundle on the cold cave floor. People crowded around her soundlessly, witnessing the powerful sobs that racked her quaking frame. She shook and heaved, knees bent to her chest and arms folder over a trembling torso, as if trying to hold herself together. Broken cries and despairing sobs echoed throughout the deafeningly silent caverns. Vanadiel felt as if Death itself had wrapped his cold, unrelenting fingers around her heart and was squeezing every drop of joy out of her soul. She felt dry, empty, and utterly alone. Images flashed through her mind of what she would see at the battle's end: bodies strewn across a bloody fortress and blood-rusted weapons littering the ground. And then she would see him. Just another corpse to mix with the others. His fair hair would be spread around him in matted disarray and his formerly piercing gray eyes would stare off into the distance, empty and void of life. His once-warm hands would be stiff and cold and his lips colorless. She could almost see the arrows that protruded from his chest and sides, blood clotting over the wood and metal. She would shake his unresponsive body, and she would scream. Her shrieks would be lost to the insatiable grief, the winds carrying away the last remnants of a meek hope that clung tenaciously to her soul. And then she would break.

A gut-wrenching sob ripped out of Vanadiel's throat. She was tearing at the seams and the only person that could put her back together was somewhere unreachable, battling for his life. Rip…rip…rip…

"Move aside!"

Vanadiel started at the familiar voice and looked up slightly as the crowds began to part. Where had she heard that voice before?

"Please, move aside! Oh, sorry sir…excuse me madam…"

The crowd finally split at the front and a pitiful sight met the woman's gaze. Her lips paled and she turned ashen.

"Oh no…" she whispered, and rushed to Vanadiel's side. Struggling to support the elf, the woman managed to cradle her shaking body. Carefully, she stroked back the sweat-matted strands of hair that framed the elf's features and tried to smoothen the silken material of her dress.

Through bleary vision fogged by tears, Vanadiel seemed to make out a figure, but she couldn't be sure. Frustrated, she swiped the back of her hand across her eyes.

"E…Eowyn?"