Sorry for the really long lack of updates. I didn't really have that much motivation to continue this story, but I had a few hours on my hands. I apologize again. Pleas enjoy! Don't forget to review, favorite, and follow.

-Rooney1077

ELYSIUM laughed as Gimli attempted to tell her a joke; something about his father Gloin and another dwarf, Balin, while sitting on a pile of dead orcs. Today was a day to be celebrating. The Fellowship had not lost anyone close to them, except Haldir, but Elysium would just pack that away in her mind with all her other kin she had to mourn over. She had not seen Legolas or Aragorn since they were in battle. Elysium could not stop thinking about Legolas and if he was lying somewhere in that pipe of dead bodies. She knew that Legolas was stronger than that. Wouldn't she know if he was dead? Wouldn't she feel it?

Elysium looked at Andrew and his companions who sat quietly a few yards away from her and Gimli. They weren't crying anymore. It didn't even seem like they were speaking. She remembered just a few hours ago the look of disappointment and hurt he gave her. Elysium couldn't understand what she had done to them. She couldn't shake the feeling of guilt every time she saw them, though. She didn't need to feel like this. It wasn't her fault. She didn't owe them anything. She didn't know them. Although, something in the back of Elysium's head told her that she was wrong.

Elysium excused herself from Gimli and made her way over to Andrew and his companions. There were five men; Andrew, a taller blonde, a darker skinned boy, a very energetic one with dark hair, and a boy with curly brown hair and red, puffy eyes. Elysium was almost thrown off her feet when the youngest looking boy crashed into her.

"Percy!" He yelled, hugging her torso. Elysium was too shocked to throw him off. Never had a stranger done that to her. After a moment, Elysium pushed him away lightly.

"Perc-" Andrew stopped. He knew he wasn't going to get anywhere by calling her that and angering her. "Elysium," He said, "What're you doing here?"

Elysium internally frowned; what was she doing there? She felt like she needed to apologize, but what for? She shook that thought off and racked her brain for a believable response.

"You may retrieve your women in the dungeons. That is where all the other women and children are residing." She said, sternly. Andrew narrowed his eyes and walked closer to her. Elysium grit her teeth. The last time they were that close, Andrew had kissed her.

"That's all you have to say?" Andrew stepped closer. "You came all the way over here to tell me that?"

Elysium cleared her throat. "Yes," She answered. "What else would I have come here to say?"

"Nothing, Elysium," Andrew muttered. Elysium wanted to give him her condolences, she had no reason, but she wanted to. She hated that look of disappointment and hurt he gave her. For some reason, it hit her hard, those looks she received from him and his friends. She nodded at him and turned, walking back to Gimli.

Gimli raised his orange, furry brows. "What was that?" He asked, setting his ax down.

Elysium shook her head and sighed. "I'm not really sure. I am still trying to figure it all out."

"Do you know them?" Gimli asked.

"I'm not sure."

MERRY and PIPPIN were beginning to get cramps in their bottoms from all this sitting. Not to mention, what they were sitting on was all bark and wood. They had been traveling with Treebeard for days. He was taking them to their homeland. Throughout the whole trip Merry and Pippin had been throwing agitated glances at each other, trying to get one an other to ask for a quick stop to relieve themselves. Treebeard had yet to notice anything.

"I will leave you at the western borders of the forest," he said. His monotonous voice could've put the two hobbits to sleep. "You can make your way north to your homeland from there."

Merry groaned. That meant they would have to walk. He hates any physical activity besides getting up to for lunch or tea.

Pippin suddenly exclaimed, "Wait! Stop! Stop!" He cried. Merry looked up at him, confused. Treebeard came to a slow stop. "Turn around. Take us south."

"South?" Treebeard said. "But that will lead you past Isengard." His voice grew with suspicion.

Pippin grinned. "Yes, exactly. If we go south, we can slip past Saruman unnoticed. The closer we are to danger, the farther we are from harm. That's the last thing he'll expect." He said triumphantly.

Merry gave him a dumb look. That didn't make any sense. What was Pippin's motives? Treebeard narrowed his eyes. "That doesn't make sense to me." Merry nodded in agreement. He didn't really want to go anywhere near Isengard. "But then again...you are very small. Perhaps you're right." Treebeard slowly turned around. Pippin's grin grew. "South it is, then. Hold on, little Shirelings." Pippin glanced down at Merry and gave him an excited look. "I've always liked going south. Somehow it feels like going downhill." Treebeard continued.

Merry moved toward Pippin. "Are you mad? We'll be caught!" Stupid. Stupid.

Pippin just grinned at him. "No, we won't. Not this time."

Merry slumped down and shook his head. He was going to get them killed.

"And those little family of field mice..." Treebeard had been droning on about the same thing for hours. They wished he would just become mute, but sometimes the noise was nice. It seemed like they weren't alone. They finally broke the tree line after a few hours from when they decided to head "past" Isengard. Although, Pippin had no intention of just "passing" Isengard.

"They're always trying to get somewhere where they're not–" Treebeard's words caught in his throat. His mouth hung open, looking at hundreds of broken, chopped, and burned down tree and Ents alike. Their branches lay on the ground, crushed and crumbled. "Many of these tree were my friends," His voice was hoarse with choked tears. "Creatures I had known from nut and acorn." All is the remnants of his friends also shocked Merry and Pippin. The hadn't seen anything like this before.

"I'm sorry, Treebeard." Pippin said, patting a piece of bark on him.

Treebeard looked around for what could've done this. His old, wise eyes fell on the distant tower of Isengard. Smoke wafted from the fires in its gates, fires from what could've only been wood. Treebeard's eyes widened with rage. "Saruman." He growled. "A wizard should know better!" Treebeard's shook with anger and hurt. With all of his pent up rage, Treebeard screamed so loudly, hobbits in the Shire must have heard it. "There is no curse in Elvish," Treebeard began after his scream. Pippin frowned, he begged to differ; he learned a few from hearing Elysium all the time. "Entish or the tongues of Men for this treachery.

Merry turned when he heard some kind of loud groaning coming from behind them. "Look!" He pointed. "The trees!

They're moving!" Trees far behind them, got up from the ground and began to leave.

"Where are they going?" Pippin asked.

"They have business of their own with the orcs. My business is with Isengard tonight with rock and stone." Treebeard's growled. Ents started to walk toward them in ranks. They backed up Treebeard and the hobbits. Treebeard grinned maliciously, if trees could. "Come, my friends. The Ents are going to war. It is likely that we go to our doom. Last march of the Ents." Merry and Pippin gripped Treebeard's branches tighter and glared down at Isengard, ready for battle. This was likely the last they would see of this world. But fighting with the Ents was a good way to go.

FRODO's feet were beginning to hurt. His muscles ached. His eyes burned. The Ring was weighing him down. He was now being dragged along by one of Faramir's men. Sam sent him worried looks, but Frodo just shook his head and gave him a weak smile. He appreciated Sam trying most of the time. Other times he felt as though Sam was trying to get close to him, and then snatch the Ring from him when Frodo was weak enough and trusted him. One part of Frodo's mind told him that was just the Ring talking, but sometimes he began to agree with the Ring. Most of the time, though, all Frodo could think about was the pain and fatigue. He need to rest or else he wouldn't make it.

A cry for one of the men made Frodo look up from the Ring, that of which he had not realized he had been staring at. "Look! Osgiliath burns! Mordor has come."

Frodo sighed. "The Ring will not save Gondor." He had said this so many times, Frodo had lost count. He turned to Faramir. "It has only the power to destroy." He tried to strengthen his voice to show the man he wasn't afraid of him and was strong. "Let me go." Though his words were as strong as Sam's hope, his eyes pleaded with Faramir.

The steward's son seemed to contemplate this for merely a moment before ordering his soldiers onward, toward Ogsiliath. "Faramir! You must let me go!" Frodo cried as the men pushed him forward. The sake of their world depended on him.

Faramir and his company had been making their way into Ogsiliath for the past hour. They dragged along the hobbits and their creature. Faramir knew this wasn't the best decision, but he needed to defend his keep. Soldiers scurried past them in full armor. The company dodged them and the bombs of rock and fire being thrown down at them. Soldier after soldier fired arrow after arrow at the sky and at orcs.

"Faramir!" One of his men called him. "Orcs have taken the eastern shore. Their numbers are too great. By nightfall we will be overrun." Frodo held on tightly to Faramir's arm, the Ring dragging him down greatly. Sam glanced at him.

"Mr. Frodo?"

"It's calling to him, Sam. His Eye is almost on me." Frodo said, breathing heavily and panicking. He couldn't hear his friend that well anymore. The Ring was blinding his senses. He could vaguely see Sam trying to comfort him all he could.

Faramir looked down at the two hobbits. "Take them to my father. Tell him, Faramir sends a mighty gift." The man looked at Faramir with confusion. "A weapon that will change our fortunes in this war." He pushed them toward his men.

Sam, however, was tired of it. He struggled to get out of the man's grasp. "Do you want to know what happened to Boromir?" He yelled. "You want to know why your brother died? He tried to take the Ring from Frodo after swearing an oath to protect him! He tried to kill him! The Ring drive your brother mad!" Faramir stared at the hobbit. He wanted to choke him, to slap him, to run his sword through his small frame. But an explosion shook them all.

"Watch out!" They all backed away from the crumbling tower.

"They're come." Frodo muttered. "They're here." Suddenly a loud screech pierced the air.

"Nazgûl!" Faramir cried. They all rushed to ale cover from the creature. Faramir dragged the two hobbits and pushed them against the wall. "Stay here. Keep out of sight." He ordered as if as they were men in his army. "Take cover!" He yelled.

Frodo began to numbly walk out of the broken structure and into the open. Sam yelled after him to get back, but he didn't listen. He stood as the Nazgûl came face to face with him. Frodo stared into its dark cloak, searching for something human. It screeched at him, loudly, piercing his ears. Frodo raised the Ring. Slowly, his finger appraised the golden Ring. All he had to do was put it on and the Nazgûl could take him, take him from this treacherous, tiresome world. Frodo was so tired. He closed his eyes and could feel the power of the Ring and the air flapping around him as the Nazgûl got closer.

He could barely hear someone yell his name and tackle him to the ground. They began to tumble down stone steps. Frodo threw Sam off and drew his sword, pointing it at his neck, breathing heavily. Sam could feel the sharp tip digging into his fair skin. Frodo glared down at him, not recognizing it was his friend.

"It's me." Sam said, shaking. "It's your Sam. Don't you know your Sam?" A year streaked down his grimy face as he looked up at his shaken friend. Frodo fell against a wall and dropped the sword, staring at Sam, finally seeing who he really was.

"I can't do this, Sam." He said slowly, shaking his head.

"I know." He whispered, moving to sit beside Frodo. "It's all wrong." His voice cracked. He let the tears fall. "By rights we shouldn't even be here. But we are." The two watched as the Nazgûl and the orcs retreated back to where they came. "It's like in the great stories, Mr. Frodo. The ones that really matter. Full of darkness and danger they were. And sometimes you didn't want to know the end because how could the end be happy? How could the world go back to the way it was when so much bad happened? But in the end, it's only a passing thing this shadow. Even darkness must pass. A new day will come. And when the sun shines, it will shine out the clearer. Those were the stories that stayed with you that meant something. Even if you were too small to understand why. But I think, Mr. Frodo, I do understand. I know now. Folk in those stories had lots of chances of turning back, only they didn't. They kept going because they were holding on to something."

That was a lot to process for Frodo. He never knew Sam was so wise. "What are we holding on to, Sam?" Sam pulled himself and Frodo up. He placed his hand on the Ring-bearers shoulders.

"That there's some good in this world, Mr. Frodo. And it's worth fighting for." Sam said. Faramir watched them from afar. He sighed, making his way toward the hobbits. He kneeled in front of them.

"I think at last we understand each other, Frodo Baggins." He gave them a small smile.

A man above them chimed in. "You know the laws of our country, the laws of your father. If you let them go, your life will be forfeit."

"Then it is forfeit. Release them." He ordered. He wanted to do something meaningful and right in his meaningless life. These two hobbits will change the world if they succeed. That was good enough for him.

The Ents wreaked havoc on Isengard. They climbed over the gate, smashing Orc after Orc. They threw boulders, crushing wooden stands and threw orcs into a pit of fire. Merry and Pipping threw large rocks at the creatures, counting how many they killed. Treebeard cheered them on, laughing as he stomped on orcs. The orcs tried to flee, but it was no use. Saruman looked down at the battle scene in horror.

The orcs tried throwing fire at the Ents, taking down only a few with them. "Break the dam!" Treebeard ordered. His Ents pulled the dam apart, water spurting out at all angles. "Release the river!" The large structure began to tumble down, the water pressure too much for the old stone. In its path, the river washed away wooden frames, orcs, fires. It pushed everything off the cliff, except the Ents and the tower. Saruman watched as all of his hard work washed away, in terror.

Legolas had finally finished healing the wounded after many hours. He sling his bow across his back and searched gone battleground for his friends. He past many bodies and mourning men and women. He eventually found Gimli and Elysium sitting on a pile of dead orcs laughing and talking.

His eyes immediately found Elysium, of course. Every time he looked at her, his breath was taken from him. She was the most beautiful beings he had ever seen, even now. She herself had a few cuts and gashes on her. A long slice lay on her cheek, bloody. Blackish Orc blood was splattered across her neck and cheeks. She had bags under her eyes. Her clothes were shriveled. Her hair slightly frizzy from drying and from the action of battle. Her green eyes shimmered with laughter and happiness and a spark of mischief, despite the current situation. She looked away from Gimli catching Legolas' eyes. She got up hurriedly and practically jumped on him, embracing him tightly. He would never get used to or tired of her hugs. She let go of Legolas, leading him over to Gimli. The dwarf gave him a slight, and almost unnoticeable nod.

"Final count: 42." Legolas said proudly.

Elysium groaned, cursing in Elvish. Legolas laughed. Her smile instantly returned hearing his laugh. "41." She muttered. It was always a competition between the two. They started it in their first skirmish with each other many, many years ago.

Gimli nodded. "41? 42? That's not bad for a couple of pointy-eared Elvish royals." Legolas narrowed his eyes at the dwarf. He continued to smoke his pipe. "I myself am sitting pretty on 43."

Elysium scoffed. "I wouldn't say pretty." She muttered.

Legolas couldn't have Gimli beat him. He drew his bow, notched an arrow, aimed, and fired all in one motion at the Orc under Gimli. He grinned. "43."

"He was already dead." Gimli snarled.

Legolas glanced down at the Orc and to Elysium. She gave him and nod, stifling her laughs. "He was twitching."

"He was twitching 'cause he's got my ax embedded in his nervous system!" Gimli yelled, Elysium's laughing only fueling him more. He turned toward her. "What are you laughing at, Missy? You only got 41!"

Elysium narrowed her eyes at him. "I only got 41 because I was too busy worrying about you not dying!" She shot back. Gimli, Legolas, and Elysium began to argue li children. They kicked each other, threw Orc armor at each other, and laughed. Life for now was okay.

Merry and Pippin stood waist deep in murky water, looking up at the tower. Saruman and Grima Wormtongue paced back and forth, glancing down at the wreckage and the Ents.

"He doesn't look to happy, does he?" Merry said.

"Not too happy at all, Merry." Pippin replied.

"Still, I suppose the view would be quite nice from up there." Merry said. He was sure that was exactly was Saruman was thinking as his withered old face grew paler and paler.

"Oh, yes. It's a quality establishment. I hear the staff are very good." He said, as Merry tried measuring his height compared to Pippin's inconspicuously. Pippin turned around. "What are you doing?"

Merry shook his head and shrugged his shoulder, seeming to inspect his hair. "Nothing. The world's back to normal, that's all."

"No, it isn't." Pippin said "I'm starving."

Merry sighed. "Good luck trying to find something decent around here. Probably dead rats and moldy bread." That even sounded good to Pippin, although, when he grabbed an apple out of the water he had a different feeling. He looked up at the sky, and then back to the apple. He began to follow a trail of fruit and vegetables all the way to a shack. Merry followed closely behind, picking up food as they went.

It was, as it seemed, Saruman's storeroom. Food of all different kinds stocked the shelves. Merry and Pippin looked at the room in greed and anticipation. "I don't believe it. It can't be." They said. Above them were crates of their favorite leaf to smoke.

"It is. Longbottom Leaf!" They breathed it in. "The finest pipe-weed in South Farthing."

Pippin couldn't contain his excitement. He pushed a barrel into Merry's hands and grabbed one for himself. "It's perfect! One barrel each. Wait, do you think we should share it with Treebeard?"

Merry frowned. "Share it?" He fake pondered for a second. "No, no. Dead plant and all that." He laughed. "Don't think he'd understand." Pippin gave him a confused look. Merry whispered, "Could be a distant relative."

"Oh, I get it. Don't be hasty." Pippin winked.

Merry pulled out his pipe and smirked. "Exactly."