hi again! sorry its been so long since i updated, guyz! i missed you and i missed my legomance 3 this chapter has a lot of feels, just a warning. but did you see how handsome leggy was in the BofA teaser? OMG it just made me more excited to write this! Hope you like it ;););)

Slowly, I start to come to. For a moment, I think I'm in Rivendell again, just like the last time I lost consciousness. But the bed feels ragged beneath me, and my limbs are sore. I feel blood on my nose, as if I've been hit with a blade.

Then it all comes back. The battle, the Uruk, Lady Galadriel taking the sword for me, and then…

"No," I whisper, but my words are ragged.

"Lie still, Saerinil." It is Legolas's voice, strong and reassuring. "You need to rest."

"Not now," I mutter stubbornly, opening my eyes fully blinking a few times to realize that I'm in the caves beneath Helm's Deep. I push myself into a sitting position, and my hair tumbles loosely around my shoulders, still softened from the braid it had been tied in before. The braid, I realize, that was exactly like my mother's. It is an eye opener, perhaps. She is more like me than I knew before. She is as brave and stubborn and self-sacrificing and compassionate. Those whom she loves, she loves as passionately as I do.

And I think of Legolas again, the Elf I love with all my heart, sitting at my side, watching me sit up, his brow furrowed in concern over his beautiful blue orbs, still shining in the dim light.

I feel a tear well in my eye, my emotions threatening to spill over. "What happened?" I ask him, my voice choked up. "What happened after I blacked out?"

He sighs, his tone concerned. "The orcs focused all their attention on the main gate. We went to the ramparts for a bird's eye view, and we found you, unconscious, beside the Lady Galadriel."

"Is she…" I gulp. "Is she dead?"

"Not yet," says Legolas, "but her chances do not look good. Have faith, however, that she is as strong as you, and nearly as powerful. She was a warrior queen herself years ago."

"So I've heard," I mutter, as he wraps is arms around me comfortingly, my hair draping over his shoulders and blowing ever so slightly in the soft breeze that sweeps between cracks in the stone.

"What about the battle?"

Legolas's keen bright cerulean eyes widen. "Saerinil, you cannot possibly think of going out there. You're wounded."

"Tell me what's going on."

"The Uruks are near to breaching the gate. The healthy have evacuated into the caves. I stayed with you."

I reach down to the stone floor beside my bedroll and pick up my sword. "I'll fight them."

"You mustn't!"

"Legolas, one of the most powerful Elves in Middle Earth history is dying in this cave because she sacrificed herself to save me. My mother is dying here. I saw it, you know, in her eyes; how much she loved me, and how much it pained her not being able to watch me grow up. And now she'll likely perish before either of us can make amends. I don't care how injured I am; I'm going to fight."

I brush past him, striding toward the door.

"You look exactly like her, you know," says a voice from beside me, and I see Haldir in the corner, standing over the motionless body of Lady Galadriel. Without a word, he picks her helm up and offers it to me. "Marching off to battle with such perseverence. She is my queen, and so here I stand. But you'll fight for us. It's in your blood."

I take the helm with a nod of respect. "I will," I say, for I'm not sure what else to say instead. "How… how did you know? About my heritage, I mean?"

"I am not simply a Marchwarden," he tells me. "Male Elves can be midwives too."

My jaw hits the floor.

"Relax." Haldir offers me a small wry smile. "I was simply making a jest to try to lighten the atmosphere in here. No, I heard your conversations with Legolas and put the pieces together myself. You really are her daughter, Saerinil. I can see it in the depths of your eyes."

"Farewell, and may we all meet again." I turn to Legolas and kiss his drying lips for what may very well be the final time, the sting of blood and steel ringing on my tongue as I stalk through the doors to the inner cave.

I find Aragorn and Theoden preparing horses to ride. "What's going on?" I inquire.

Aragorn looks me up and down. "Find a steed," he demands. "We are defeated. And so upon this day we shall ride for the fallen. For the dead Rohirric soldiers and Elves, and perhaps even their queen, if she succumbs to her injuries." His voice thickens with sorrow.

Theoden's grip tightens around the banner of Rohan. "This is a proud end. For my house and for my kingdom, I shall die."

Frantically, I leap onto a third horse, and Legolas bursts through the doors just in time to leap on behind me.

"You will not ride to your death without me," he whispers playfull into my ear, and I smile beneath my Elven helm.

"For love and sacrifice," I murmur to him, and I can feel his breath on my shoulders, hot and slow, like the air before a storm breaks, and I think I finally know what it means to die for something or someone that you care about.

The gates opened, and I rode out, holding aloft Celestion, its blade flickering with blue flames that lapped hungrily at the open air. I pointed it forward, and the fires exploded, leaping from orc to orc and taking out my enemies one by one. From the horse I swung at Urukhai, slicing off heads and limbs and stabbing at anything hostile in my path.

The sun rose overhead, and my eyes widened as they spotted a lone figure upon the clifftop, mounted on a familiar white steed.

"Gandalf," I whispered, and Legolas reaches forward with one hand and locks our fingers for a moment as Eomer, head of the Rohirrim, appears beside the wizard.

"For Rohan!" Eomer shouts as streams of sunlight draw over the cliffs and follow the horsemen down to our aid. The dawn had come again.

Gandalf heads the charge, his staff bursting with white light, and everyone fights with renewed vigor. I dismount, and drive my sword into the stone, and a golden light erupts from the blade. Orcs collapse on the spot, some dead and others stumbling. The Rohirrim take out any survivors, but exhaustion fills my limbs again.

I fall to my knees on the bridge, amongst the corpses of my foes, Celestion tight in my hand and wedged in a crack in the rock.

Legolas is beside me in an instant. "Saerinil?" He asks worriedly. "Are you all right?"

I shake my head. "I released so much power. I'm so tired." I sway forward into his strong arms.

"You're a hero, Saerinil," I hear his words softly caress my ear. "You don't have to be anything but tired right now."

I close my eyes, clinging tightly to my beautiful Elf's chest, when I hear footsteps behind us. Still weary, I look up, and Gandalf's pained expression tells me all that he knows and still hopes to understand.

His voice his hoarse and soft with grief and loss as he asks me, "Where is she?"

When I have recovered enough strength to walk, we guide Gandalf to the inner chambers, where the gravely wounded still lie, and a few healers remain to try and save them from death. I am leaning on Legolas for support, my legs still shaking, as my gaze sweeps the pitiful room.

My eyes settle on Haldir, conversing with a Rohirric healer. He looks at me, his face drawn and terrible sadness settling over his features.

"No…" Legolas hugs me closely as tears threaten to spill over again, and my emotional walls begin to break down. I look to the motionless form of Lady Galadriel, her armor now removed so that she is wearing the classic Elven traveling garments, not unlike Legolas's or my own. She went so far out of her way to hide her identity, marching to battle anonymously.

"Why?" I mumble into Legolas's shouler, and he gently kisses my head as I cry into the crook of his neck.

"She is not yet dead," the healer tells us, yet her expression is one of gravity.

"But she will pass?"

"Unless there is a miracle to save her life, then yes. I'm sorry." The healer seems resigned, even numb to it all, and I suspect she has seen too much death to grieve for at this moment.

I step forward, but I feel a strong hand grip my shoulder.

"There is nothing you can do, Maethrien," Gandalf tells me. His eyes seem less sharp, his face older and thinner. "No wizard nor Elf can heal such a grave wound."

"I'm not a wizard. Nor am I an Elf. I'm something else entirely. And in the world I came from you don't just give up when someone's monitor flat lines. I don't expect you to know what that means, but I will not give up. I'm here for a reason, aren't I, besides a living weapon?"

I shrug my arm free of his grip and approach my mother's dying form. I can see the blood staining her clothes, and I start to feel sick. This is someone who loved me, despite everything, who only left me in another world because she thought if I stayed in Middle Earth that the forces of darkness would hunt me down and exterminate me. I keep thinking of her last words to me. I'm sorry, she said.

"I forgive you." I know the words fall on empty ears, as I hang my head over her face, so serene even in such a harsh time.

I rub my hands together, thinking that perhaps I can heal her. I feel water stream from my hands, cleaning her wound and winding between her fingers. My keen violet eyes catch the ring on her finger, glowing.

Of course. Nenya was the ring of water. The power of her ring and my own power to generate water can heal her. The ring glows brighter, its light spreading so that I have to cover my eyes, but I focus on conjuring clean, pure water from the air even as my eyes are tightly closed.

I hear a small gasp of surprise from someone behind me, but my ears barely register it, I am focusing so hard. Memories flash back, as if they are on a tape recorder, yet I realize that they are not mine but Lady Galadriel's. I know that she can share thoughts with others, but I never considered that perhaps I had inherited the same gift.

I see her face, filled with anguish, her lips tight and single tear running down her dust-stained face. Her hair is loose and blowing over her shoulders and fresh scratches cover her face. She draws a sword, and suddenly I see the legions of orcs in my mind, their teeth gnashing. I cover my ears, but I can still hear the vulgar screams for blood in Sauron's name as the final battle begins on the slopes of Mount Doom. I can smell death and rot in the air.

Then the scene changes. I am in a healer's den, with wounded soldiers lying in every available space. I can still see the scratches on her face; barely a few days have passed. I watch as a healer removes her armor and pours liquid over a deep wound on her arm. Yet I myself feel the searing pain as the spirits disinfect her battle wound, and I grit my teeth against it.

Another blur washes over me, until I am in Rivendell, in a high pavilion. Elrond's infamous eyebrows are narrowed skeptically as he obviously considers something with deep thought.

"Make no mistake, Lord Elrond," Galadriel says sharply, resting a hand over her swollen belly, "this is a miracle, a cause for rejoicing, not a problem to be taken care of."

"Miracle or not," says Elrond, "this child will be powerful. Too powerful to remain here until she is old enough to understand and control such power. We will not be enough to protect her from evil when she comes into this world. She must grow up in another universe, where she will be safe."

"Another universe?" A lower, rougher voice speaks up, and I realize that the third man in the scene; a young man who looks not unlike Aragorn, save perhaps with a longer face and slightly shorter and tidier hair. He is Gandalf- the same Gandalf I saw in my dream on the plains of Rohan. "Are you suggesting we allow our child to grow up without us?"

"I know that is no easy matter to discuss, Mithrandir," Elrond acknowledges, "but it is the only way she will be safe. Orcs will haunt her every step they find out this child is born with so much power. She will never survive in Middle Earth until she is grown. Allow her to mature in another world, and bring her back when the time is right."

"But how shall we know when the time is right?"

My eyes snap open, and look into another pair of eyes, deep blue and sharp. Lady Galadriel was alive, although still wounded, but she was awake. And for the moment, that was what mattered.

plz plz review! i need reviews to make my day, and even leggy and saerinil want reviews XD