A/N: And just like that, we've made it to the end of Book Three. How crazy is that?! To those of you who've stuck around and have kept reading this silly little fic of mine (that by this point has gotten WAAAAY out of control), thanks, haha. I appreciate y'all.

The first chapter of Book Four should (hopefully) be up by the end of June, at the latest! I've still got some more setup to do with that one as I figure out what the final layout of that book's going to look like, but as soon as I've got everything pinned down, I'll start writing and get that first chapter cranked out for ya.

In the meantime, enjoy the last chapter of Staying Strong! Hope it doesn't disappoint! :)

Staying Strong: Chapter Twenty-One

-Legolas-

"Echuio... Echuio, Legolas..." [Wake up... Wake up, Legolas...]

The whispered words felt a thousand lifetimes away, so soft against the cold, aching darkness holding me in its grasp. I could feel nothing, save for the faintest warmth of my own fëa buried somewhere beyond my reach. It was there still, but my consciousness remained strewn about in fragments, as if it had shattered and fallen into deep, murky waters. A small, fragile tendril of light began creeping up from the darkness, as thin as a single strand of hair. I could see it, somehow... a thread of my life force.

"Echuio, Legolas..." [Wake up, Legolas...]

The voice had grown stronger, I realized, and as the command drifted through stale air, I felt something stir. That voice... it was familiar... The small thread of life stemming from my fëa seemed to sway as if it were grass stirred by the breeze, and I was drawn to its glow. As I felt myself close in around it, the darkness began to recede, and consciousness reformed, and suddenly I could feel the wight of my own limbs again.

It was then that I took my first breath. The action felt foreign, as if my own lungs had gone still for a thousand years, and I felt as old as one of my father's most ancient, dust-filled texts buried deep among the shelves. Slowly, my eyes opened, and the initial blurred mess of greys and browns began to focus into familiar textures of stone and wood. As my vision cleared, I became aware of a pressure at my hip, and tilted my head to examine it. What I discovered, however, nearly convinced me for a moment that I had passed into the realm of the dead after all.

I could hardly even bring myself to speak as Aragorn himself sat before me, hands firmly pressed against my side. His gaze met mine, and a faint smile passed over his face. "Mae govannen, mellon-nîn." [Well met, my friend.]

I stared at him in awe, even as he removed his hands to reveal a damp cloth beneath them, pulling it away. "...How?..."

Due to both shock and my own sluggishness, I could not finish the question, though somehow the ranger understood nonetheless. "I fell a great distance, though not far enough for it to prove fatal. Brego is a most loyal steed to have found me and carried me here when I hardly had the strength to ride."

Here. I blinked as my mind struggled to recall what had happened; where I was, how I had come to be here... and slowly, it all began to return to me. Helm's Deep. The Wargs attacked us, and we came here, and... everything went dark... My eyes returned to Aragorn, and I swallowed, though it did little against what felt like sand coating my mouth. "What happened?"

Aragorn glanced back as he turned to dip the cloth into a small basin of water. "You were poisoned, and it later became infected," he answered, nodding briefly to my side. I lifted my head just enough to see the wound: the smallest cut, yet it looked so angry and inflamed, an unnatural grey color set into the surrounding flesh. "I do not know its name; only that it was a device of the Haradrim's. It was difficult to draw out, but thankfully I managed to do so before it drained you any further."

"Haradrim?" My eyes widened, and I shifted, pushing myself up into a sitting position to allow myself a better view. What had a man of the south been doing among the Warg riders?

The moment Aragorn sensed my movements, his hand was was on my shoulder, willing me to remain still. "Hodo, mellon." [Lie still, friend.]

"No," I resisted him, "Im maer." [I am well.] My voice was low and cracked from lack of use, and I reached for a small cup of water set beside the bed. My fingers brushed against the wood, and I looked up to see exactly where it was, still wakening from my sleep. It had been long since I had fallen into such a deep state of unconsciousness. But then, just as I took a sip of the cool, refreshing water, I froze. Something was different. Something was missing... I could feel it. My eyes scanned the area, and within seconds I had identified the source of my discomfort. Instantly, I shot upright, gritting my teeth against the dull pain in my side which flared with the action.

"Legolas, daro," Aragorn's grip returned, more firmly this time. "Hodo." [Legolas, stop. Lie still.]

"Where is it?" I frantically brushed his hand away, eyes darting everywhere. "My bow and quiver - where are they?" It was not an easy thing to miss. All of my other possessions were within sight, but my most cherished weapon of all was nowhere to be found. If I had not moved them, who had? My eyes landed on Aragorn, who had paused in squeezing excess water from the cloth, and suspicion rose in my chest. "Aragorn, where are they?"

He hesitated, then finally exhaled and returned to his work, not meeting my expectant stare. "Safe," he said. "Under Erin's protection."

My brow creased, and I immediately felt a dim anger in my veins at her name. "She took them?" For what purpose? What kind of game is she playing now?

"She thought she would need them for battle, I imagine."

Anger quickly became confusion. "What? She was in battle?"

Aragorn nodded, turning to wipe away fresh blood. "Théoden asked her to remain in the caves with the other women," he explained, "but she appeared to have other plans. I first saw her standing on the outer wall, disguised as a Rohirric boy, armed with your bow and her blade." He paused, almost as if to chuckle, but did not. "It was quite a sight to behold."

My gaze lingered on the man as he continued to clean my wound. There was something about the way he spoke which unsettled me... a somberness I had not expected. "We were attacked?"

Aragorn nodded. "Ten thousand Uruk-Hai, sent by Saruman to destroy the people of Rohan." Again, my eyes widened in shock. "They arrived at nightfall, and we stood in defense of the Keep until dawn. It was hard fought, and barely won."

As he spoke, my mind recalled vague, foreboding warnings from Erin of a great war fast approaching. I remembered her desperate pleas for me to remain in Rohan for some greater purpose, and I wondered if this battle had been the root of her concern. "And Erin fought through all of it?"

Again, he nodded, though still refused to meet my gaze. "She feared for your life more than any other." My frown deepened. "When I arrived, you were nearly lost to us, and she hoped that I might heal you, but I did not have the time before the Uruks reached us. I suspect that fear is largely what drove her to fight in the first place."

I remained still on the bed, a frown still present on my face as I listened. As soon as Aragorn had mentioned Erin, I had thought of her betrayal; how she had broken her promise and not told me of his fall. The anger I had felt then was still so fresh in my mind, as was the memory of her standing alone on the hillside as I'd abandonded her there. But now, hearing Aragorn's words, I was taken aback. Even after all I said to her... after speaking so harshly, and with such rage, and then refusing to interact with her entirely... she risked her life to defend me. I was nothing but cold towards her, yet she fought for me still. And the longer I looked at Aragorn, the more my thoughts began to drift towards all the times she had attempted to speak to me, only to be pushed away. Had she known he would return? Is that why she persisted? Perhaps my anger had been justified, but as I considered all these things, I realized my continued stubborn bitterness may not have been.

However, as my focus returned to Aragorn again, I noticed he was no longer looking attentively to my wound, but the floor. His hands had stilled, and I saw in his eyes a mix of hurt, anger, and a deep, horrible grief I did not understand. His silence brought an uncomfortable tension to the room, and I realized then there was something he was not telling me. "...Aragorn." He did not move. "What else happened?"

Several long, poignant seconds stretched between us before a weary sigh left him, and he finally turned to me, his words turning the blood in my veins to ice. "...Elladan is dead."

–

-Faramir-

The valley before me sat cloaked in thick mists, stretching out far and wide over Ithilien and masking much of its forests from my sight. I stood upon the brink of our northernmost outlook, staring down into the gloom as the faint morning light crept over the horizon. She was out there somewhere, I knew. I had not been surprised to find Kathryn missing by the time we made ready to depart, but something had kept from ordering my men to hunt her down. Even now, as I looked out over the surrounding land, I felt no need to track her. It seemed the very least I could do in thanks after our previous exchange.

Much of what Kathryn had said left me deeply conflicted. At first, I had not wanted to believe her account of what happened to Boromir. He was noble, and a fierce warrior, and his memory deserved to be honored for it. But Kathryn was right - Boromir had always been loyal to the city, at times even to a fault. And Kathryn's own testament to how the Ring had corrupted her could not be denied, either. I had seen a deep terror and guilt in her eyes and the way she'd spoken then which told me it was no lie. And so, for perhaps the dozenth time since our last conversation, I found myself wondering whether I truly had made the right decision. My fear of this ring had grown at Kathryn's pleas, and now I questioned if it was worth risking after all. Was an object with such a destructive nature truly what would save Gondor? As my thoughts shifted toward those of my own city, however, I remembered our desperation. If not this, then what? It is the greatest power left in the realm of Men. If even that cannot save us... Minas Tirith is destined to fall. All our hope was withering away. Boromir was dead. Father had all but succumbed to madness. The people now looked to me to save them, and I had nothing to show for it. Nothing, save for this one possibility... a chance, dangerous as it was, for victory.

A small voice in the back of my mind rang out in warning. Boromir likely thought the same thing. For a moment, I stilled, glancing down.

Just then, a sharp voice broke through my thoughts from behind. "Captain Faramir." I turned to Madril, who stood before me with his usual stoic expression. "All the men are prepared to leave. The Halflings stand with them and we wait for your command."

"What of the creature?" I asked.

"Talion has bound it and keeps it in his charge."

I nodded, hesitating one final time as I weighed my decision. "...We set out for Osgiliath," I said after a moment. "Let no man rest until we are within the city gates. Have scouts chart the path ahead so that we may pass through with ease." I moved to step past my second in command, attempting to push aside all lingering feelings of uncertainty.

"Sir?" Madril's call stopped me, and I turned back. "Are we not to find the young woman? We have more than enough men to send after her."

My eyes drifted back to the landscape below. "The mists are too thick," I offered as an excuse. "It would take more time than what I wish to spare." Madril seemed to see right through my reason, but said nothing as I looked down to the familiar dagger in my hand. "Besides," I said, tracing over the bronze-wrapped hilt, "I believe Kathryn has proven she is no enemy to us."

–

-Erin-

My gaze was fixed on the wall before me; a dull, vacant stare as I sat upright on a soft bed in a small, private room. I was the only one there, silent and still as I waited patiently for a healer to return. After our victory against the Uruk-Hai had been won, everyone immediately shifted their attention to taking care of the destruction left behind. Any man with strength left had been called to assist with whatever needed done - piling bodies, reinforcing the walls, rebuilding the gates... all of it. You'd think after such an intense battle, everyone would be calm and resting for awhile, but all of Helm's Deep still buzzed with activity. There was so much to be done to deal with the aftermath of battle, including tending to the numerous wounded and injured. We'd barely scraped by with the minimal soldiers we'd had, and many of them had suffered serious injuries during the fight. The inner halls of the Keep were overflowing with wounded men and elves, desperate for a miraculous healing.

And that was where I fell now. That was why, as all the others were out keeping themselves active, I was tucked away inside a tiny room by myself, waiting. I'd suffered quite a bit of damage out there, and had been about ready to keel over as soon as I'd set foot inside the healing ward. The elderly lady who'd been tending to me had rattled off a long list of injuries, but beyond that, I'd barely been able to pay attention to her. She'd been in and out of the room multiple times with a wide array of bandages and salves, occasionally telling me to lift something here or turn there as she'd worked, though I couldn't remember ever saying one word back to her. I'd surely been sitting in this room for a few hours, at least, but it seemed like an eternity. Everything felt so... distant, as if things were moving in slow motion. Words were muffled, and I felt dazed as I sat there, just... staring. Because now that I was alone and had time to think, there was only one thing I could comprehend. One thing that stuck at the forefront of my mind and refused to leave no matter what.

Elladan.

He was dead.

And it was my fault.

My limbs felt numb, and my insides hollow as the simple statements seemed to hover in the air around me. In the moment it had happened, I'd hardly felt a thing because I'd been too caught up in the frenzy of battle. But now there was nothing else to distract me from the truth... the ugly, awful, horrific truth. I had allowed someone to die at the hands of the Uruk-Hai without a second thought. And not just anyone. An heir of Rivendell. A renowned warrior. A brother. A son. The memory of him laying at my feet flashed across my mind again, and I felt guilt pool in my stomach. ...What the hell have I done? Out of anger? Out of... out of spite? I had no idea what was happening outside, but could already guess the news would've spread like a wildfire. I remembered how Aragorn had looked at me out on the parapets, and I felt my hands shake. I gripped the edge of the mattress tighter to stop them. Jesus... They're all going to hate me.

Just then, I heard a soft creak as the door opened behind me, and I straightened, realizing my healer had returned. "How often did you say I was supposed to be putting salve on these burns?" I asked quietly. But no answer came. In fact, I didn't even hear her enter the room. Frowning slightly, I turned as much as I was able. "I'm sorry, I wasn't paying attention..." The words died on my lips as I looked back and froze, eyes going wide with shock, disbelief, and utter joy all at the same time. "...Oh my God," I breathed. "You're alive!"

Never in my life had I been more relieved to see anyone as I was then to see Legolas standing in the doorway. At first, he stared back at me with an equally shocked expression, rendered speechless. "...Yes," he said eventually. "I am alive."

As I fully processed what I was seeing, my entire body relaxed, tension I didn't even realize I still carried evaporating into thin air. I closed my eyes, letting out a breath as my shoulders sagged. "Thank God," I whispered. "Oh my God... you have no idea how much I..." I trailed off, opening my eyes again to look at him. "I thought we were losing you."

"Nearly," he admitted, "but Aragorn was able to draw out the poison."

"So you're okay?"

A slight frown crossed his face, as if he was surprised by the question. "Yes," he said again. "I am well enough." But now he had stepped into the room, letting the door fall shut behind him as he stared at me, horrified by what he saw. "What happened to you, Erin? Your hair..."

If I'd had it in me to laugh at his comment, I would've. Leave it to Legolas to mention the hair first. "I know," I smiled grimly, running a hand through what was left of it - a choppy, almost pixie-style mess atop my head. "It's pretty drastic. Some new device of Saruman's nearly burnt me to a crisp, and..." I shrugged. "I survived, but most of my hair got singed right off." As Legolas' gaze still lingered on me with unspoken questions, I went on, glancing down at the rest of my body. "Three ribs broken, one cracked, fractured both bones in my left forearm, mild concussion, burns stretching from my jawline all the way down my neck, around my shoulder, and down my back... and multiple other scrapes and bruises I'll likely be feeling for weeks." I sighed, my gaze falling to the floor. "She told me all the burns would fully heal, but..." I scoffed, shaking my head. "I doubt it. Most of them will definitely leave some ugly scars."

Silence. I could feel Legolas standing there, just a few feet away by the end of the bed, but my eyes remained rooted to the stone. I couldn't look at him. Somewhere, buried beneath a haze of guilt and confusion, I felt drawn to him, wanting to get up and just... touch him, as if to prove he was really there. But just as quickly as it had come, the thought was ruined by a bitter, sour air. It wasn't like that anymore. I had to remember that.

"Why did you it?"

The sudden question startled me, and I blinked, pulling myself back to the present. "What do you mean?"

Again, there was a moment of hesitation. "...Aragorn said you fought for my sake. Why?"

I opened my mouth, about to give him a generic answer, but as I finally willed myself to look at the elf, I stopped. ...No. He deserves the truth, not some fabricated bullshit. "Because I care about you, Legolas," I said bluntly. "More than almost anyone else in this entire world. And regardless of whatever happened between us, that is never going to change." His gaze was unsettling; a deceptively emotionless mask which reminded me more of the Legolas I'd met five years ago than the Legolas I knew now. "You were lying in this Keep utterly defenseless, and there were ten thousand Uruk-Hai outside that would've ripped you to shreds if they'd broken through." I shook my head. "I couldn't let that happen. Not after everything we've been through." Again, Legolas said nothing at first, just continued to stare at me as my gaze shifted past him. "Your stuff's there, if you want it back." He turned as I nodded to the corner of the room, where his precious Galadhrim bow and quiver full of arrows had been carefully set against the wall. "I'm sorry I took it without asking. I mean, I would've asked, but you were unconscious, so... I don't know, that probably doesn't make up for-"

"Did you know he would come back?"

Legolas looked back to me, though now there was a slightly softer edge to his words. I slowly nodded, again dropping my gaze to his feet. "Yeah. I did."

"And you had been trying to tell me," he said quietly. I nodded again, still not fully sure what he was getting at. What surprised me, though, was when he let out a quiet sigh, a hint of remorse in his next words. "Perhaps you would have been successful if I had not been so cruel."

At that, I looked up, eyes immediately finding his again as I frowned. "What? No, no, you had every right to be angry with me. I made a mistake; I deliberately kept the truth from you, and... to be honest, I don't even have a good excuse for it, really." My mind drifted back to those moments of fear before the Warg attack, and again I felt a pang of guilt. "I was so afraid to lose you... I thought that not telling you about Aragorn's fall was the only way you'd realize the danger we faced here." But then I looked back at him, my mouth pressed into a grim line. "But I was wrong. I was completely and utterly wrong, and I hurt you, and I betrayed your trust, and... I'm sorry." I didn't know what else to say. "I'm sorry, and I deserved all the consequences of what I did."

Something in Legolas' expression shifted as he considered all I'd said. "Yes," he agreed, "but at the very least, I should have allowed you a chance to explain yourself. And for that, I am... also sorry."

I looked at him for a moment, about to protest his unnecessary apology, but ended up staying silent. Another uncomfortable stillness settled between us, and again I found my eyes bouncing between the wall, the floor, my lap... anywhere but him. I swallowed as I tried to stay calm; tried not to imagine what he was thinking or how he could possibly be feeling, or what he thought of me now, or why he'd even come to see me in the first place. But then the terrifying thought occurred to me, and my jaw clenched. Oh, God... Suddenly, I was deeply afraid, and my mouth went dry. Although every inch of me wanted to get up and run, I stayed put, staring straight ahead as I forced the words out. "...What else did Aragorn tell you?"

I didn't even have to look at him, for the silence that followed was enough of an answer on its own. My grip on the bed tightened as he shifted his weight on the edge of my vision, and when Legolas spoke, his words were slow and carefully chosen. "...He told me the elves brought reinforcements from Lothlórien and Rivendell. He said Elrohir and Elladan were among them, and that Elladan was later found slain in the midst of battle." I felt the color drain from my face. "And... that he believes you were involved on some level."

Despite all my efforts, as soon as the words left his mouth, a shuddering breath escaped me, and I bit my lip hard. I shut my eyes, trying to block all of it out, but I couldn't. All I saw was Elladan's face, grey eyes glazed over in death staring up at me.

"Erin?" Legolas was quiet, but I could hear the wary edge in his voice. "What happened to Elladan?"

I took a deep breath, knowing there was no way around this now. "I didn't kill him..." I whispered, "but I might as well have." I opened my eyes again, though still couldn't bring myself to look anywhere but straight ahead. "I saw him in the middle of the fight, out on the wall. And I looked at him, and... I was just so angry. About everything. Everything he'd done to Kathryn, and to me, and to you... and I hated him so much for it. So I went up and I confronted him, and he said shit that... that just made me even more furious." I felt my voice shaking, but now it was all spilling out of me at once. "We started fighting, but then there were Uruks that came and attacked us, and I fought them off, but when I turned back, one had him pinned against the wall." I could feel my stomach turn as I spoke the truth aloud. "I had a wide open shot," I whispered. My voice cracked, and I shook my head. "But I didn't take it. I just... I stood there and watched, and the Uruk killed him. And I did nothing as he died at my feet." Somehow, admitting it out loud made everything more real, and I felt tears slip down my face as I raised a hand to cover my mouth. "Oh, God... what have I done?"

Legolas just stood there, mouth slightly agape in utter shock. When he did speak, he sounded almost fearful. "Have you spoken to any other of this?"

I wiped at my face, trying to pull myself together in vain. "Gandalf," I said. "He came here awhile ago asking for my sword. Said they needed to examine it." I paused, remembering the concern on the wizard's face. "I asked him why I had been brought here instead of out into the main healing halls, and he said... He said it was because they needed to keep Elrohir away from me." It was here I finally turned to look at Legolas. "He wants me dead."

"As do many others," the elf replied, still staring at me, though now with a deep disappointment in his gaze that hurt more than anything else. "They believe you murdered him, Erin."

I nodded, feeling my chest tighten again. "I know. And I have no idea what to do now." I turned away again, hiding half my face in my hands. I'd fucked up. I'd majorly, majorly fucked up. "Do you know anything about what's going on out there?" I asked quietly after a minute.

Legolas sighed, arms crossed in front of him. "Elrohir and many others are demanding justice, but nothing can be done until you are proven either guilty or innocent. I believe they intend to compare your blade to the wound that killed Elladan. If its size and cut matches that of your sword, it will serve as evidence against you, and..." He trailed off for a moment. "...At best, you would likely be exiled. At worst... they would call for execution."

The full weight of the impending consequences was crushing as it settled over me. "And if it's not a match?"

"I do not know," he answered. "Truthfully, it would prove you innocent, but... such serious accusations will likely never be silenced either way. Many will continue to brand you as a murderer regardless."

There was another long silence as I sat there, panicking and terrified and wanting nothing more than to throw myself from the ramparts then and there to give Elrohir and the others what they wanted. It's exactly what I deserve anyway. But then I stopped, slowly turning back to the prince beside me. "...What about you?" I asked, scared to death of how he'd answer. "Do you think I killed him?"

Legolas looked up to meet my gaze, holding it for several long seconds with an intense, piercing stare. I felt like I couldn't move as my heart pounded in my chest, already feeling hot tears threatening to spill over. "I have traveled with you for years, Erin. I have seen you make mistakes and foolish decisions before. What you did to Elladan was childish, and rash, and utterly without reason." I swallowed, unable to do anything else except nod. Something in his blue eyes softened then, though, and he spoke again, quietly. "But I know you well enough to know you are not a murderer."

As soon as he said it, I felt a shudder ripple through me, and I couldn't do a damn thing to hold the tears back as I gasped with relief, looking up at him as I practically sobbed. "Thank you... Oh my God, thank you..." I broke as he stepped forward a moment later, coming just close enough to reach out and gently lay a hand on my shoulder. I reached up and gripped it like a lifeline, apologies gushing out of me. "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry... I don't know what I was thinking, I'm sorry..." Legolas said nothing, but it didn't matter. He didn't need to. For a few minutes, we just stayed right where we were, him offering quiet comfort as I wept over mercy I didn't deserve.

But then, all of a sudden, I realized what was happening, and I stopped. ...No. No, I can't do this. I already decided I wasn't going to do this. I let go of his hand, quickly wiping my face again as I leaned back. "I'm sorry," I repeated, though this time for a different purpose. "I shouldn't have done that, you don't need to -" I looked up at him, shaking my head as I cut myself off. "There's something else I think we need to talk about." As my tone sobered, Legolas frowned slightly, but waited for me to go on. Again, I held his gaze for a moment, and for a split second, I wondered if this was something I really wanted to do. But I quickly pushed the thought aside, knowing it was necessary as I took a deep breath. "I don't know how you've been thinking about us lately, but... I don't think we should continue. This relationship, I mean."

Legolas blinked, drawing back slightly at my blunt suggestion. "Why do you say this?" There didn't seem to be any trace of hurt in his voice, only surprise.

I sighed, my eyes drifting downwards again. "Because, I think... I think we both need to do some serious reevaluating of what's going on here. I mean, let's be honest: I've been fucking up since day one. I keep doing all kinds of shit to try and control what's going on around me because I've become so afraid of the future, and I've manipulated people, and I've hurt people, and now I've basically killed someone, and I -" I stopped, forcing myself to get a grip and not start crying again. "I don't know what the hell I've become," I murmured, fearful as I said it out loud. "And I just... I need time to really think about that. Because I need to fix it." I glanced up at the elf. "And I think you deserve some time to really reconsider how you feel about me, and whether or not I'm the right choice for you."

He was listening intently as I spoke, a somber, yet pensive expression on his face. "What do you mean?"

I all but scoffed. "I don't know, just... everything I've done!" I exclaimed in frustration. "All the problems we knew we would have at the start of this whole relationship that I've just gone and made a thousand times worse! Your father will never accept me now! Your people will hate me! I'll be a murderer to them!" I stared at him, knowing this was a bitter truth I'd been trying to ignore for months. "Every time I've made a mistake, you've had to deal with it; you've had to put up with my bullshit for way too long now. And no matter what hell I'm going to have to go through for letting Elladan die, I will not see you get dragged into it too. Not this time."

Legolas' frown deepened, and he stepped closer, reaching out to grasp my shoulder again. "Erin-"

"Don't!" I snapped, harshly jerking back. "Don't." He froze, and I closed my eyes, wishing I didn't have to do this when it hurt so much. I opened them again, looking up at him with as much determination as I could muster even though my soft, trembling voice gave me away. "You deserve so much better than anything I could ever hope to give you now. You know that."

He held my gaze, but said nothing for a moment, and as much as it killed me, I knew he understood. "...You are right. Perhaps this is something no longer in our best interest to pursue." He hesitated, glancing down, his voice barely above a whisper. "I... I am no longer as certain as I once was."

I felt something inside me crack and break, but forced it back. I had to. I needed to do this for his sake. "Neither am I." Slowly, I reached up to the back of my neck, fingers tracing along a fine silver chain. "I'm sorry," I said quietly. "This is my fault." As the clasp came free, I lifted the necklace away, gathering it up and gently pressing it into his hand. "...I just want what's best for you, Legolas. I always have."

He looked down at it, then back to me in question. "We are still allies, yes?"

I smiled, hoping it looked convincing. "Absolutely. I still care about you, Legolas. I always will."

He smiled back, though it didn't quite reach his eyes. "And I you." There was a brief pause before he stepped back, turning to retrieve his bow and quiver from their place in the corner of the room. I watched as he grabbed them and made his way out, hesitating only when he reached the door. Legolas turned just enough to look back at me over his shoulder, giving a final nod. "Rest well, Erin."

I nodded back, and then he was gone, disappearing as he slipped beyond the doorframe and let the door fall shut behind him. And only then, when I knew I was safe and alone again, did I turn away, my lasts shreds of control vanishing as I wept, utterly broken and unable to ignore the deep, excruciating pain buried in my chest.

–

-Kaia-

I gasped as I landed in the thigh deep, ice cold water, shakily sticking the landing from where I'd leapt off of a fallen chunk of rock. "Holy shit! It's freezing!" A second later, Pippin jumped down after me, and I shrieked as his impact splashed more of the cold water up my back.

Pippin barely even flinched, even though the water reached all the way up to his hips with his height. "It's not so bad," he shrugged. "One time, I got thrown in the Brandywine river in the middle of winter after losing a bet. That was a cold I won't soon forget." He shuddered, then started making his way forward, sloshing through the water as he went.

I shook my head, laughing in disbelief as I followed after him. "I swear, you hobbits are indestructible." As we waded past the remains of some crumbling wooden machine, I glanced around, pleased by the surrounding destruction. Isengard was no more than a flooded wasteland by now, as the Ents had pretty much finished their assault on Saruman's stronghold. Once the river had been released, it made quick work of everything the Ents hadn't already gotten to, and now there wasn't so much as an Orc left in sight. The only real remaining threat was Saruman himself, but even now I could see him retreating back into Orthanc, which was now being closely guarded by several Ents. I stopped behind Pippin and looked up, scowling as I watched the doors to the balcony slam shut. "Good riddance," I growled.

The redhead in front of me nodded. "I don't suppose he'll be getting out of there anytime soon."

Just the idea of Saruman escaping sent a shiver down my spine, and my jaw clenched. "Let's hope not. I'd love to never see his face again."

Somehow, Pippin must've sensed my discomfort, because he turned around with a concerned look on his face. "...I'm sorry about all those things he did to you, Kaia," he said. "But for what it's worth, I think you're very brave for making it out."

I offered him a small smile, knowing how bad he'd felt when I'd told him my story of what had happened inside Orthanc. "It's all right, Pip. We're both here now, and that's what matters." After a moment, he smiled back, and I looked around again, not wanting to dwell on the somber mood. "Everything's back to normal now."

At this, however, a frown crossed Pippin's face, and he sighed, turning around in a huff. "No it isn't," he proclaimed suddenly. "I'm starving."

Normally, I would've laughed at Pippin's endless appetite, but as soon as he said it, I was reminded of how long it'd been since I'd had a real meal. "Honestly? Me too. Man, there's got to be food around here somewhere..." I looked around, disappointed when I saw nothing in the immediate vicinity.

Pippin was also searching for a snack or two. "Wizards have to eat too, don't they?"

"I mean, you'd think!" I said. "It's not like they can just conjure up apples out of thin air!" But then, just as I spoke, I glanced to my left, stopping and staring as a ripe red apple floated straight past me in the water. "...Wow. Okay. I stand corrected."

Pippin's eyes went wide as he grabbed it, briefly glancing up at the sky in confusion. But then we noticed another apple floating by... and another, and another. I reached out and grabbed one of my own, salivating already, and then I noticed something else floating along just behind it. "Is that an entire rotisserie chicken!?" Pippin dove after it in a flash, and I hurried after him, the two of us continuing to follow the mysterious food trail. The farther we went, the more we found. More apples and other fruits floated by, and then a cabbage or two, followed by a whole basket of potatoes... At one point, I was so transfixed by the bundle of food in my arms that I walked right into Pippin when he stopped short in front of me. Several apples and a carrot tumbled from my arms, and I frowned, about to call Pippin out for knocking my shit over. When I looked up, though, I saw what had caused him to freeze, and my jaw dropped. The rest of what I'd been carrying fell from my hands with a splash. "...Oh my God..."

Three word: Saruman's. Storage. Room. The old stone building was one of the few things to survive the Ent attack, and the door stood wide open in front of us, revealing a treasure trove of food inside. Almost every type of Middle-Earth food you could think of was crammed in there, ripe for the taking. It was the most heavenly sight I'd laid eyes on since the elf maidens back in Lothlórien. Pippin looked like a five year old walking into Disneyland, and I just about shed a damn tear.

All of a sudden, Pip gasped and dropped his chicken, startling me as he bolted across the flooded room and started climbing up the shelves towards two large barrels labeled 'Southfarthing.' "Is it really?..." He had the biggest grin on his face when he popped the lid off, and it widened even more when he looked at me. "It is! Old Toby!"

I frowned. "The fuck? What are you talking about?"

"Old Toby!" he repeated, pulling out his pipe. "The finest pipeweed in all the Shire!"

My eyes went wide. "You're kidding. And there's two whole barrels of that stuff?"

Pippin nodded, his excitement almost palpable. "It's perfect! One barrel each!"

I laughed, walking over to the shelves. "Hell yes! I like the way you think, Pippin!" On my way over, I grabbed a fresh chicken from the ceiling, tearing into it immediately as I hopped up next to him. Pippin passed a barrel down to me, and I grinned from behind a chicken leg. "This is literally going to be the best day of my life."

But Pippin stopped just as he went to light his pipe, glancing over at me with a frown. "But Kaia, you don't have a pipe!" he exclaimed. "How do you smoke without one?"

I looked at him, a brilliant idea coming to mind as a grin stretched across my face. "...Pippin, set that pipe aside," I said, "and see if you can find me a clean, thin piece of paper in here. I'm going to teach you how to roll a joint."

–

-Erin-

The days and nights seemed to pass slowly as we remained at Helm's Deep, doing all that we could to ensure the people of Rohan were safe and secure as they recovered from Saruman's assault. Some of my own injuries would take awhile to heal, I knew, but within a few days I was at least well enough to get up and move around. I spent most of my time still in the healing wards, though, unable to do much else besides cleaning and bandaging simple wounds wherever necessary. Part of me wished I could be doing something more useful, but in reality, I was glad to have an excuse to stay inside the inner halls for awhile longer. Every time the doors opened, I feared it would be someone I knew, or someone who'd come looking to give me a death sentence. But the only person I ever recognized was Éowyn, occasionally coming to make sure things were running smoothly so she could report back to her uncle. She hadn't noticed me, which was a relief. All I wanted was to keep to myself for as long as I could.

Of course, no good thing could last forever. On the third day after I'd begun assisting the healers, the doors had opened again, and in came Gandalf, Haldir, Aragorn, and Éomer, all of them with their sights set on me. I'd been terrified, but left the main hall with them anyway as they took me aside and explained what would happen next. It had been determined that I had not killed Elladan. By both their judgements of the wound, and the testimonies of others who'd come forward saying they'd seen an Uruk deliver the fatal blow firsthand, I was proven innocent. All charges would be dropped, and I would face no trial. But the irreversible damage had still been done, and there was nothing I could do to change it. I'd asked to speak with Elrohir, but they denied me the chance, telling me it wasn't safe. I'd half expected Haldir to wring my neck himself, given the withering glare he'd fixed on me when he'd walked in the door. Éomer had also seemed wary, as if unsure of whether or not he believed the evidence. All of them left shortly afterwards except Aragorn, who sat with me for the next hour as I broke down and explained everything, from the first time I'd ever met Elladan all the way up until that very day. He was still upset and grieving, which I knew was justified, and I didn't ask him for his forgiveness because I knew I didn't deserve it just yet. But at the very least, he seemed to understand a bit more, and we parted on speaking terms with one another if nothing else that day.

Two weeks later, our company set out for Isengard, under the leadership of both Gandalf and Théoden. Aragorn, Legolas, Gimli, and myself had all come at Gandalf's request, joined by Éomer and Gamling who accompanied their king. As our party reached the peak of the valley hiding Helm's Deep from the rest of the world, we slowed, pausing to look out at the darkening horizon beyond. The darkness of Mordor bled further across the sky, stained crimson along ragged black mountains bordering shadowed lands. It seemed so close now. I stared at the fiery glow reflecting off the distant clouds, a sense of foreboding settling over me as Gandalf spoke from his place atop Shadowfax. "Sauron's wrath with be terrible; his retribution swift." The presence of such a growing threat couldn't be ignored now, and every one of us knew it. "The battle for Helm's Deep is over. The battle for Middle-Earth is about to begin. All our hopes now lie with two little hobbits... somewhere in the wilderness."

A brief silence fell over our group, and as I gazed out across the land stretched before us, I wondered what the fate of Middle-Earth would have in store for me. It's all coming to a close now, I thought. This is the beginning of the end. There was so much that still felt ambiguous... so many questions I didn't have answers to, so many things left up in the air. My thoughts shifted to Kaia and Kathryn, and I desperately hoped they were still alive out there somewhere. That if nothing else, the three of us would make it through the final stages of this war together.

The silence was broken then as Théoden spoke up, urging us to move on. "For now, we must make haste and ride to Isengard. We have little time to spare." He nudged his horse forward, and the rest of us followed soon after as our party started down the hill.

I sighed, coaxing my own mare into a trot as I fell in line behind Aragorn. So much is uncertain. How do we go forward from here? How do I go forward from here? The fate of this world was far beyond my control now. And what could I do? What else was there for me to turn to when it seemed like everything I had known and taken refuge in had been shaken? When I was scared out of my mind of what the future held?

But the answer came to me in an instant. ...Hope. That was all I had left now... all I could do. Hope, and have faith that maybe, just maybe, good would conquer evil in the end as it was meant to anyway. I tore my eyes away from the blackened smear of Mordor in the distance, turning my focus to the road and people ahead of me now. And I did have hope. Despite all the chaos raging on in the world around me, I clung to it, fiercely and relentlessly. I would always have hope.

-End of Part Three-