"I am sorry you could not take Jodis," Eowyn began, watching as Milandy climbed into the saddle of the horse that Eowyn had been able to secure for her. "She was under heavy guard, and to take her would be suspicious."

"It is fine," Milandy gave her a smile from atop the horse, giving it a friendly pat as she looked over the fields that stretched out from Minas Tirith's borders. "Any horse of the Rohirrim is a good horse, and I am such a good rider that I could outride most on a pony." She smirked as Eowyn laughed, her cockiness hiding her anxiety that despite her skills on horseback, that she would not catch up to them.

Eowyn's smile faded a little, although not entirely. "I suppose this is it," she said, "you will go and meet your fate."

"Part of it," Milandy corrected. "My fate is bigger than a battle. I'm merely going to keep our men in check."

"You certainly do carry a astonishing confidence before you ride to battle," Eowyn observed, an eyebrow raised. "Are you not frightened that you will be too late? Or too overrun?"

"Oh, yes," Milandy gave a nod. "I'm terrified!" She announced, a smile on her face, overly cheerful. "But what do you suggest I do? Lay down and weep? No," she said, smiling to her sister in law. "If I do not laugh, I will cry, and if I cry, how will I redeem myself?"

The two shared a silence, the wind of the fields the only thing to be heard. "Ride well, my sister," Eowyn finally said, breaking the silence.

Giving a solemn nod and taking a deep breath, Milandy gripped the reins of the horse, keeping her eyes to her sister's. There was something in their gaze, sorrowful but full of excitement. The two shared that, she guessed, an excitement in the build to a fight. The love of a challenge. "I will do my best to bring your brother home to you," she said before she kicked her heels into the sides of the horse, clicking her tongue and galloping into the distance of the fields. She could already smell the smoke. She could catch up to them at the Black Gate.

They were completely surrounded by the enemy. Encircled and outnumbered. There would be no escape from this, and Legolas knew it was grim. He worried for a moment that the men would panic, that they would falter.

All it took was two Hobbits to charge after Aragorn to prove him wrong. It was not often he was glad to be incorrect, but this would be the exception.

Milandy could see the gate in the distance, lowered on her horse as it galloped as fast as she could make it, gripping to the reins tightly. She heard cries of war, roars of battle. She smelled the smoke and heard the clashing of steel. Her grip in the reins tightened as though it would make her charge towards them faster, cursing the extra weapons strapped to her for weighing them down. Her blades, a bow and a sword. A necessary evil for what she was about to charge into.

As she closed in, Milandy did not stop, not even to make a plan. Adrenaline through her veins again, desperate to see those she came to fight for, she drew the sword from its hilt, rising up in her saddle, her heart beating and her voice crying out as she charged into the outer ring of the enemy.

In all his years he had fought many battles, but for the first time, he could not take this one with his usual arrogance. It was relentless. Enemies came from all sides, all areas, wielding all weapons and tactics. Legolas had usually felt as though he'd had the upper hand in these battles, but this one had him feeling admittedly overwhelmed. There was to be no games, no tallies or counting. Not when so much hung in the balance.

Death surrounded him, men and enemy alike. The only thing louder than the clash of metal was the cries of those who were becoming wounded, and as he endlessly ducked and weaved and struck back, he lost sight of some of his friends. He could do nothing for them now, but it was quickly becoming a matter of every man to himself.

His focus was entirely on the enemy, his concentration like never before, too outnumbered and close to keep two steps ahead as he usually would. His only thoughts were to keep up, although his mind did wander between movements. If this were to be the end, he thought, what a glorious end. He had always been told that he had a strange fate, something rare amongst elves. Perhaps this would be it. It would not be so bad, he thought, although he would have preferred to survive and sail when the time came.

Within only seconds of that thought, Legolas thought he had indeed died, that death had been quick as his eyes set on the figure that slashed down the enemy between them as though they were weeds. She sat atop a horse, her eyes aflame with the passion of battle as she swept at them with her sword, pushing through from the outside as though nothing would stop her. Her eyes set on his, the light of the sun that came from the mountains behind her, illuminating her silhouette and obscuring her as she called his name, although he could not hear it through the sounds of battle. Was she one of the Valar? Perhaps Nessa, the ever young, or Nienna, who had come to take him from whatever death he had found and grant him mercy.

"Legolas!" She called once more, her voice clear now and sounding… frustrated? "Your left!" She shouted. Instinctively, he ducked, and sure enough avoided the swing of a hammer, leaving up to slice open the chest of his attacker. He took a second glance at the figure on horseback as she drove her sword into an orc, giving a cry that sounded all too familiar.

"Milandy?" he asked himself, blocking another of his attackers. Milandy had come? But they had left her behind. Deliberately. She had been at their meeting, she knew that this was, by all means, a death-wish, and yet she rode here? She was a traitor. She did not care enough to lay down her life, surely? She cared for nothing but coin…

Milandy gritted her teeth together swinging at another orc that tried to pull her from her horse. Legolas wasn't paying attention and that was, in turn, distracting her. Was he daft? If she had to keep her wits focused on him, she would-

Milandy cried out as she felt a hand at her leg, larger than the rest, stronger as it pulled her from her horse without effort, dropping her to the ground with little issue. Scrambling, she quickly drove her sword upwards, piercing him through the very centre of his form and leaving the sword lodged. She quickly sprung upwards, using her arms to launch herself from the ground, and unsheathed her blades as soon as her arms were able. Without hesitation, she drove a blade into the neck of the nearest orc, hearing another she had not struck fall nearby. Legolas had closed in on her.

"What are you doing?!" He shouted, kicking one away and firing an arrow into another, moving so the two were back to back.

Milandy spread her arms, stabbing two orcs on each side in the chest and dragging her blades upwards, splitting their sternums. "Supervising!"

"You should not be here!" Legolas fired another arrow into one that approached with an axe before reaching back to grab her by the arm, pulling her around to switch positions with him, neither of them stopping their movements.

"I fight for the same as you!" She retorted as she ducked down and sliced at an assailant's kneecaps, causing him to fall at his knees and tripping up two more behind him. "And for my kin," she stopped to give a grunt as she grabbed an orc's arm, twisting it behind him until it gave an audible snap, "and I fight for the women you have left behind - I have every right!" She gave a grunt, before speaking again. "Kneel on one knee!" She ordered.

"What?!"

"Do it!" She screamed, urgency in her voice, enough to make him do as she requested, arrows flying from his bow as he did. Without another word, she leapt onto his knee, using it as a step, but it shocked him how light she felt, for she used his shoulder to further launch herself with her arms, something he had not anticipated. She gave a loud cry and he stood once more, turning to catch a glimpse of her landing on the back of an orc that was larger than most, at least twice his own size, using her blades to grip into it's back. She pulled herself up onto it's shoulders, pulling the blades out once she felt secure, the beast roaring and trying to swat her off before she drove the blade in her free hand into its face. Which part, Legolas was not sure. Their backs were turned to him, but the beast collapsed, Milandy sinking down with it into the fray of man and orc, the last he saw of her being an arrow driving itself into her.

Milandy gave a wail of pain as she hit the ground with a thud, and although she knew she could not stop moving to lament the pain of the arrow that had burrowed itself into the side of her thigh, her movements were shaky for a moment as she re-gathered her blades and struggled to stand. She stumbled, using the slain orc's body to steady herself, the leg with the arrow considerably weakened. Gasping for breath to work through the shock and pain, she took the shaft into her hands and snapped it as close to her leg as possible, leaving the arrow in, deciding there was no use in putting herself through the complications of removal at the present time. She was actually surprised at how little putting weight on it hurt, but perhaps she was comparing it to the pain of the searing she had gone through before.

"Milandy!" Another voice roared through the crowd. Not that of Legolas. Eomer shoved back an opponent with his shield, turning once more to glance to her, his eyes wide with something Milandy couldn't decipher. It was either surprise or shock. "Below you!" He called, and to Milandy's surprise, the sword of a fallen Horse Lord lay before her. Without need for explanation or further instruction, she sheathed her blades and took up the sword, using it immediately to come to the aid of her husband, who seemed somewhat overrun.

Milandy growled as she twisted around, her back against his, sweeping her sword at those who tried to flank him. An orc gave a roar and brought his sword down upon her, but not before she could block it with her own blade. "Eomer!" She called urgently, realizing quickly that her strength was not even worth comparing to the orc's as he pushed her downwards, her legs buckling in resistance. Figures flew above her, the screams of the monsters she saw on the fields of Minas Tirith ringing through the air, something attacking them - although she did not know what, she was too focused on the battle at hand.

Without hesitation, he moved to her, swinging his shield around to knock the orc aside as another slashed at his back, which he had left entirely exposed to the enemy. Milandy gave a gasp, spinning, her sword now free to slay his attacker as he merely gave a grunt and continued to strike down their attackers, undeterred. A mighty roar coursed through the battlefield, the ground rumbling in steps, and not too far from them, Milandy spotted a beast four times the size of any orc. A fear chilled her as she stabbed an attacker in the belly, its innards spilling forth as she removed her blade and reached back to take her bow. She moved too slowly, though, and felt something strike her face, throwing her to the ground, her vision misted. Eomer roared her name, and Milandy could see his boots step back to be close to her. He stood over her to try and protect her as she pulled herself up, hoping to her deepest of hopes that her vision would return properly soon.

As it began to clear, she saw Legolas in the distance, calling Aragorn's name, his eyes wide with fear, held back by the enemy, the troll giving a roar. No, she thought. Aragorn could not have fallen, surely… maddened by even the concept, she gave her own battle cry, a scream from the deepest core of herself as she struck orc after orc with her blade, her eyes full of tears, the taste of blood in her mouth. It was as though it would never end, she thought, reaching around to stab at an orc that charged Eomer, using its falling form to launch herself and flip herself over another that attacked, slicing into its back on her way down. She landed in front of her husband, dropping to her knees to allow him to swing his sword over her at one that came from the front that she could not reach.

And then, from far off, where the giant eye of fire looked down at them, a screech came, one loud enough for all life on Arda to hear, one that took the attention of every man and orc alike, the ground rumbling as all on the battlefield stopped to gaze at the source. A wave of heat moved over them, as though the wind were born of a fire, her hair moving behind her as she gazed up at the eye of evil.

The rumble intensified, and more screeches came, from the eye and winged beasts alike as the tower began to crumble, the sight so spectacular that Milandy felt as though the breath had been struck from her chest. All seemed to stay still, the air hotter at the tower continued collapsing on itself, the dust and smoke of it filling the air, Eomer reaching his arm out as though to shield her from what may become of it. The sight was so overwhelming that Milandy hardly noticed the enemy was fleeing, men the only to remain on the field, their eyes transfixed. There was a clap of sound, a deep boom, and a massive wave of air washed over them, almost feeling like electricity, causing Eomer to grip at her, and her to grip him to brace herself.

"Frodo!" She heard cried, although she didn't know from where. And then another called it, and a third, and more followed, all joining in, victorious. She too joined them, smiling, her eyes full of tears, overwhelmed as she cried his name. "Frodo!" She screamed, raising a blade into the air in a cheer. The ground no longer just rumbled, but quaked, and soon the ground where the gate stood began to sink and collapse as the tower had. She stepped back for a moment, terrified that they would fall into the chasm as their enemies were, Eomer grabbing her arm though he was preparing to flee as well - but it did not. The ground where their men stood was still and unweathered as the mountain gave a roar, and she witnessed it explode, lava erupting from it.

Despair took the men, their celebration short lived, unable to take her eyes from the mountain. The Hobbits who saved them were there… no, this wasn't fair. Her eyes widened, and she heard the small voice of Merry nearby give a wail of horror. Milandy was unable to speak. No one spoke. No one moved.

They stayed like this for moments, the whole army in silence, bated breath, waiting for something, anything relieve them of their anxiety.

"There is a way."

Gandalf had spoken, and slowly, scared to take their eyes from the mountain, most turned to face him. His eyes still on the fires ahead, he moved forward. "Ride home. Disband. Tend to your wounded," he ordered, the men parting as one of the creatures Milandy had seen fight the winged beasts, not unlike an eagle the size of a horse, began to lower to the ground. "There is a way," he repeated. All watched as he climbed onto the creature's back, the creature taking flight without an order from the Wizard, as if it already knew of his plans.

All they could do was wait.

Milandy gave a hiss, looking at the wound on Eomer's back. Sitting on the bed of their chambers, she discarded the bandage that had initially covered it. "The healers were not wrong," she commented as she reached to a basin of water, taking a wet cloth from it and wringing it out just enough to stop it from being soaked, "it is indeed unpleasant."

She brought the cloth to his back, gently wiping over it, removing the dried blood that had since seeped after it had first been seen to, and he merely gave a grunt, shifting slightly. "It does not feel it."

"It looks it," she laughed. "Your pride will be the end of you." Milandy shook her head and took a new bandage, pressing it to the wound as he lifted his arms for her, allowing her to loop the bandage around him.

"It was not that long I was binding your wounds, if I remember correctly," he replied once she finished, pulling his undershirt back down. "And you thanked me by going into battle anyway."

She smiled, handing him the shirt that he would wear over the top, the fabric soft and rich, a gift to him - although one she didn't think entirely suited him. He wasn't made for the finery of Gondor, but now that was was over, the Hobbit hero recovering in the house of healing, they were in Minas Tirith as guests, awaiting Aragorn's coronation. "I would not have missed that chance if you had tied me down," she said, moving the basin with her foot, pushing it underneath the bed.

As he pulled the shirt over himself, rolling his shoulders beneath it, he gave an exhale. Turning to Milandy, who was reaching to discard the rest of the new bandage she had not used, Eomer took her wrist, stopping her movement and causing her gaze to snap to his. "You offered your life to this war. You risked your life beside me," he paused, giving a little smile as his grip loosened and his hand slipped down her wrist to her hand, "and you did not kill me, despite there being much chance." He pulled her hand towards him, leading her closer in. His free hand reached out to her and came to her cheek, bringing her face to his, more for the closeness than to kiss her - although he did lay a gentle kiss on her lips, their brows pressed against each other. "I cannot speak for others, but you are long redeemed in my eyes."

Milandy would have pulled away not long ago, before the Black Gate, before the lies she told were revealed to them. But now she lingered, finding comfort in his company, in knowing he trusted and forgave her, something that Legolas would not do. She may have had many wounds, but the most aching pain was the expression and contempt she remembered in his expressions the last time they had met with each other. His trust in her was broken, well broken, probably beyond repair, and while she still would lay her life down for him - which she already had - she decided she must come to peace. She would never have him, and he no longer wanted her.

She squeezed his hand, feeling as though she needed to, and he responded by kissing her once more, Milandy responding in kind this time, not breaking the kiss as she had before, moving closer to him and bringing her hand to his chest, resting it, feeling his heartbeat. Eomer's hand moved from her cheek and to the nape of her neck again, some of his fingers in her hair, their kisses continuing, the breaths deepening. Milandy felt that feeling within her chest, the tensing, the quickening, the heat. His hand came to her waist, pulling her body to his. Both her hands were at his chest, gripping the fabric of his shirt, wanting him more than anything at that moment.

She was no maid, and she knew where this was going, her thoughts confirmed when his hands gripped her at her waist and pulled her to him, leading her to where he sat on the edge of the bed to be on his lap. Her legs kneeling and coming to either side of him, the fabric of her dress rose up past her knees, the skin of her mid-thighs exposed as she took his face in her hands and they continued their assault on eachother's lips. Eomer's hands moved from her waist to her back, pulling her form to his, holding her tightly, their kisses deepening. Milandy was no maid. She knew where this was leading, and she had the impression he was the same. It was as though she was on fire, as though she had never wanted for anything more badly.

And then she froze. That was a lie. She had. And still did. All of a sudden, it all felt wrong.

She gave a soft gasp, pulling away from his kiss, moving her hands back to his chest, her palms flat, pushing herself from him. She looked at him with worried eyes, fearful, almost, and studied his face.

"What is it?" He asked her, concerned, looking down to the bandage wrapped around her thigh where the orc's arrow had pierced her. "Your wound?"

She shook her head, gently moving off him, standing up, her dress falling back down to cover her legs. "It is still not right," she replied. "It… we are married. That should not be an act of the body's temptations," she explained, trying very, very hard to be tactful. "It should be an act of… of…" Milandy trailed off, frowning and looking away, embarrassed to say it.

"Love?" He asked. Milandy frowned, giving a nod, and Eomer gave a long exhale. "You are right," he began, sitting forward again, elbows on his knees and slouching in his usual manner. "I would not have you rush such matters if you do not wish."

"I am sorry," she said, so quietly that it could have been mistaken for a whisper. "I know it is part of the agreement and…" She paused. "I do not wish to deny you of your…" she gave a tiny noise of displeasure, "right."

He gave her a knowing smile, shaking his head. "It is not as though I have not had the experience," he confessed, smirking just a little. "I am willing to wait. The benefits of being on good terms with my wife far outweigh those of bedding her unwisely," he said, giving her a look. "Especially when she is as you are."

"Headstrong?" She asked.

"Terrifying." Eomer laughed as Milandy crossed her arms, an eyebrow raised.

"And what of children?" She asked. "You are King of the Mark. There is a line to continue."

He nodded, acknowledging the concern. "Indeed, that will be an issue. If I did not know you, I would resolve to make you fall in love with me," he watched her reaction to this carefully, Milandy wary of giving him such a thing. "But I do know you, and I would be a fool to think myself capable of that feat if you did not will it." Eomer shrugged. "It is a bridge we will cross when the time comes."

A knock on the door interrupted them, Eomer waiting for Milandy to give him a nod of approval before turning his head to call to the door. "Yes?" He asked.

"Your grace," a woman's voice began as the door opened, but not fully, the voice shy and shaking. "K-King Aragorn has asked me to inform you t-that… F-Frodo has awaken."

He gave pause. "Thank you. You may take your leave."

The door closed with a click and Eomer looked back to Milandy, who was unsure what this meant. He gave her a frank nod and smile, standing as he exhaled through his nose. "I suppose we should visit the halfling hero."

Don't freak out, Team Legolas! Trust me. Juuust trust me. And Team Eomer, don't freak out either. It's far from over. Believe. Believe in me. Believe in love. Believe in the heart of the cards. I got this. There's so much to do before we figure out who Milandy will stay with. Like a Coronation. And oh... a trip to Dale... and Mirkwood...