I want to thank everyone who is following this story for your patience. I have had some health problems lately and am having a fourth operation this coming Tuesday. I will continue to try and get these chapters out on a more regular basis.

A/N: Nyxe, son of Chimera, is solid black with eyes that are tinted a slight red color; he has a very regal bearing, and random scarring on face and body. Nyxe belongs to Spades who most graciously gave me permission to use her dragons in this story.

Thanks, Spades … you can be proud of all your babies!

Xymor, son of Velcan is deep jade-green with dark yellow-gold eyes. Xymor is one of the older dragons, is a veteran of many of the old battles of the first age and is known for his great strength. Xymor is one of my dragons.


Up Where the mountains meet the heavens above
Out where the lightning splits the sea
I would swear that there's someone somewhere
Watching me
Through the wind and the chill and the rain
And the storm and the flood
I can feel his approach
Like a fire in my blood


Chapter 29

Dragonflight Part IV

Strength and Valor

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Bansil knew that even though the slash across her stomach was not a significant health risk, Anayah still needed to keep things simple for a bit and not put undo stress on either the wound or the stitches. Because of that, the two practiced the basic moves of double dagger fighting at a sedate pace until they flowed evenly and smoothly. Soon, she was so comfortable with what she was doing that she began talking while they practiced. The Guard was secretly pleased that she didn't seem to find the repetitious patterns to be boring; but then that was also an attribute of a serious warrior; and she was that.

"The daggers are wonderful weapons and I wish that I had learned to use them a long time ago."

She practiced double figure eights, double cross-cuts as well as crescents and reverse crescent slashes using both blades at the same time. When done correctly the practice patterns were as beautiful and as fluid as a well-practiced dance.

"Correct me if I am wrong, Bansil, but I think the dagger is meant to slice just as a sword does but because it is a smaller weapon, can be wielded in a much smaller space, making them almost as lethal as a regular sword or even long knives. There is much more flexibility in the length of the strike, especially in close quarter fighting than there would be with a sword … and combine that with the "no-mind" philosophy … I think I am going to like the daggers as much as I do my bos!"

Both elves chuckled as they continued to work.

"In theory, Anayah, if the fighter is in good shape with flexibility and strength, they should be able to slice more frequently than with a sword and from many directions not only because the daggers are a shorter weapon, but because they weigh so much less than a sword. As quickly as you are learning, it will not be long before you will be quite proficient at what you are doing."

The two stopped for a few moments as a rabbit darted out from underneath a nearby bush and ran across the area they were practicing in and when they returned to their work, it was with even more energy than before. Without even breaking the rhythm of what they were doing, Anayah told the Avari Guard how honored she had felt when her Guards had offered to train her and how doubly honored she felt to have him train her as well.

The two elves stopped for a rest and after sitting on the ground, drank deeply from their water flasks.

"You are ideally suited for the daggers because you are smaller and therefore quicker than other larger fighters."

When he saw her open her mouth to protest, he held up his hand.

"I know what you are thinking and I don't want you to even entertain the notion because I am in no way referring to your stature in a derogatory manner. In most species, two legged or four legged or even birds of prey, the female is sometimes a much fiercer fighter than the male because her motivations are stronger; she fights for her mate, her young and often for the food. Yes, the male has the muscles, but the smaller and lighter female often has more endurance over the long run than the male because she has less weight to carry. To be an effective fighter, you need to focus your skills for the maximum effect – which you do quite well. You are already fast but if you dedicate yourself to developing the art, few will be able to match your skill with these weapons."

From one side of small clearing the two had been practicing in, a twig snapped and when Bansil and Anayah looked in the direction of the sound, saw that it was no enemy who was coming upon them, only Anayah's Guards. Bansil turned pale and jumped to his feet for he had completely misinterpreted the look on Rahan's face and immediately began to apologize for breaking protocol because of cross-unit training without the Captain's permission.

"Peace, Lieutenant. My elves and I have been standing here … without notice, I might add," he turned his head to Anayah and raised an eyebrow, "and I only find myself pleased that you have taken the time to teach her a skill that could very well save her life."

As the two elves clasped forearms, Anayah let the breath out that she hadn't even realized she had been holding. Though there had been no way for her to know, Rahan had felt a measure of relief that someone had found a way to bring a spark of life back to her. He, for one, had sorely missed seeing her smile.

Anayah play punched him in the arm and he turned to her with a look of mock-pain on his face while he rubbed his arm.

"By the way, Rahan, Súrion has a small pebble in his boot that is making him put the weight on the wrong side of his foot when he walks. That's why he stumbled when the four of you first got here."

Rahan, Semoro and Saeros turned and looked at Súrion who had the good grace to blush.

"I wouldn't give him too bad of a time about it, my Captain." She said as she brushed imaginary motes of dust off his tunic before she turned the bottom of his tunic up and removed a sticker twig from the hem. "This makes quite a noise when you are trying to sneak up on somebody! I heard all four of you coming … so don't raise your eyebrow at me!"

She poked him in his chest with her finger before she struck an arrogant pose then took Bansil's arm and walked back to the campfire. Behind her, there were some moments of silence before Semoro, Saeros and Súrion pointed at Rahan and laughed.

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The Úlaire stumbled backwards and when he did so, the Orcs around him did their best to pretend they all had somewhere important to be – somewhere else. If someone would have been able to see his face, they would still have had a problem determining whether he was "mad, glad or sad." Evil always seemed to wear the same expression all the time so when the Witch King stumbled backwards a few steps nobody could tell if he had stumbled accidentally (unlikely), if he had meant to almost fall down (unlikely), or if he had stumbled from fatigue (uncertain).

Then he shrieked. The darkened cowl of his robe swung first in one direction then another and the gloved hands clenched and rose slowly in the direction of where his head should have been as he poured his fury into the deafening crescendo of sound. And as the sound continued to climb in pitch, cracks began to appear in the walls around him, every Orc in Carn-dûm covered their ears as their sensitive hearing was assaulted and three of them who hadn't left the vicinity quickly enough, dropped dead where they stood. Yes, it could be safely assumed that the Witch King had been unsuccessful in accomplishing his goals and was suitably enraged.

Those around him, who had been talking among themselves before the tantrum had begun in earnest, had been discussing just why the Witch King was keeping up his efforts when such a length of time had passed without the expected result having been achieved. While some had thought that the General had been trying to make things difficult for the elves and Rangers so they would give up the dragon to save themselves, others had proposed, and perhaps rightly so, that most of his motivations came from the fact that he wanted to punish those who had dared enter his home and take something he had claimed for himself. The discussion continued as they grabbed their dead friends by their legs and drug them to where the three hungry fell beasts stood with partially spread wings as they eagerly anticipated the upcoming feast – such being the level of camaraderie among those who served the Witch King.

After he had finished his screaming, the Úlaire stood for a time, thinking his dark thoughts and hatching insanely dark and evil plans. Finally, he turned to the entrance of the caverns, giving a mental call to one of the fell beasts. The creature argued, raising his head and making his own voice heard, but his Master's command finally overrode his appetite and dropping the Orc leg he had been about to swallow, walked toward the entrance to join his rider.

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Both Ranger groups received Gandalf's message that the Rescuers would be setting up camp for the rest of the night as well as the next day, and had decided to do the same. The extra hours of rest were much welcomed, for even as battle hardened and rugged as they all were, they had their limits and if the truth were to be told, they were weary, for the journey had already been long. They maintained such a high degree of alertness at all times that even when they laid their heads down during their rest periods, they weren't resting, as they would have been if no danger was near.

The watches had been set and kept and the others had settled down for some well-earned sleep, but as such things happen, dusk had once more fallen, and the time had come to move on. The scouts were coming in, and everyone was grabbing some quick travel rations and eating them on the run as they began breaking down camp. There was not one among them who did not know that if anything serious was going to happen, then it would do so at any time. They were almost to Imladris territory and somewhere between where they were now and the border, the Witch King and those who served him would make their last and probably strongest attempt to take the dragon Lord away from them.

Greyfell was standing with his back to his Rangers, staring intently off into the forest. The last scout, Gwerin, had not yet come in and this fact was beginning to worry him. He listened … with mind, ears and heart … and heard only a watchful silence. Something was about to happen and he was getting a bad feeling that it was not going to be anything any of them would like.

Behind him, the young Rangers as well as Elladan and Elrohir continued to pack up the camp as quietly as they could for even though there seemed to be no imminent danger, they sensed that not every shadow around them was friendly a fact which called for quiet observance and stealth. The sounds around them had faded away until not even the breeze could be felt or heard and even though the sparse grasses still waved their slender bodies back and forth, the Rangers heard nothing, not the voices of the animals or birds nor of the trees of the forest. It was as if they had all been suspended in time and place where all they could do was wait for whatever was going to happen to begin.

Footsteps were muffled and conversations were whispered as they continued to both pack their belongings as well as wait for their Captain's order to move on. One of the young men dropped a metal container and even though it barely made a sound, the small ring of metal against a nearby pebble was as loud to their nerves and sensitive ears as would have been a peal of thunder during a furious summer storm. All heads turned to the Ranger who quickly picked up the container then mouthed the word "Sorry!" Many of them wondered why there was a need to whisper even though none of them would do other than keep the silence.

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Greyfell heard the footsteps approaching him from behind but paid them no mind, for he already knew that it was the twins and his Second, Soron, coming to ask why they still tarried. He sighed as the others stopped beside him, also peering into the darkness that had held his attention for some time.

"What is it, Captain?" Elladan spoke quietly as he stared into the shadows in front of them.

Still remaining motionless, not even turning his head, Greyfell sighed once more then folded his arms across his chest.

"One of my Scouts has not come in yet."

The three looked around them at the other Rangers to try to determine who was missing. It was Elrohir who determined who the missing Ranger was.

"Gwerin."

The Captain nodded his head but remained silent … and vigilant.

Suddenly the silence of the night was broken by a loud cry from some distance away.

"Orcs!"

Greyfell's sword was drawn before he had taken three steps and if he had had a chance to look behind him, he would have seen that like him, every Ranger under his command was right behind him, swords at the ready. The twins took to the trees, where they ran among the branches, trying to see the enemy so that the Rangers didn't blunder into their midst.

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When he heard the pain filled scream, Greyfell's heart clenched painfully in his chest. Faster he ran, leaping over the exposed roots of trees, downed timbers and plowing his way through bushes. To his right he heard as Elladan and Elrohir came down out of the trees and when they did so, he spared the eldest twin one glance.

"Just beyond those trees in front of us."

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They heard the sounds of raucous laughter and smelled the stench of their enemies before they ever saw them. The Rangers were prepared to meet them in battle, but what they weren't prepared for was to see a large Orc standing over Gwerin with one foot on the hilt of the dagger that was protruding from the young adan's abdomen.

With a loud cry, Greyfell raced through the middle of the surprised Orcs and barreled into the vicious brute that was standing over his Ranger. For his part, when the Orc saw the enraged Captain coming at him, he raised both hands in front of his face and began to turn away, for such was the expression of Greyfell's fury.

The momentum of his rush took both he and the Orc beyond the downed Gwerin and to the ground. In one smooth motion, the Captain rolled, immediately regaining his feet then facing his enemy, as did the Orc to him, although more clumsily than the Ranger he faced. The two closed on each other but when the Orc reached for his dagger, remembered that it rested in the stomach of the human laying on the ground behind him. He barely had time to take a step forward before a hand found the front of his throat. The Orc felt no pain, only a rush of warmth as his life's blood flowed down the front of himself, a momentary sensation at best. His last thought before he died was that the Ranger in front of him was holding his throat in his blood covered hand. Then his body hit the ground and he knew no more.

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Greyfell stood for a moment, motionless and panting as he fought to subdue his rage and put it back in that place in his heart where it would wait until it would next be needed. Finally, he noticed the silence and when he turned, saw the others standing and staring at him and it was then that he realized he still held the trachea of the dead Orc in his hand. He threw the mess away from himself then ran to where Gwerin lay with Elladan and Elrohir kneeling on either side of him. When Greyfell looked at the two, all they did was sadly shake their heads before they got up and walked away to give the Captain time to say his goodbyes.

With a shaking hand, the Captain caressed the head of the young man and was rewarded for his attention when the Ranger's eyes came open.

"I'm sorry, sir." Gwerin wheezed painfully.

"What on Arda for, Gwerin?" He said softly as he gently wiped the blood away from the corner of the man's mouth. "You alerted us in time and because of your brave actions, we were able to destroy this group before they got too far past us. You have nothing to be sorry for. In fact, it is I that should be begging your forgiveness."

Gwerin frowned but rather than letting him expend what energy he had left in trying to speak, Greyfell smoothed the hair back off his forehead then took one of his hands in his own, desperately trying to comfort the young man in what he knew were his last moments.

"I'm sorry that I didn't come looking for you sooner and I'm sorry that I didn't get to you in time to stop all this from happening."

Gwerin smiled.

"That's all right, sir. We both know you couldn't leave the others."

"Do you feel pain?"

Gwerin's breathy reply was faint … almost too faint to hear.

"No. I only feel peaceful."

He sat holding Gwerin's hand and when he saw his eyes close and heard the final sigh, he hung his head and let his tears fall.

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He paid no attention when he heard the whisperings behind him but he did jump when he felt the gentle hand on his shoulder. He raised his tear-filled eyes to see who it was, then quickly rose to his feet, for if the body of the young man wasn't laying in front of him, he would have sworn that it was Gwerin who now stood at his side.

The long dead brother, the beloved twin who had always lived in Gwerin's heart and whom they had all met once before, had come to take his brother home. Guilin knelt beside his twin, spent some moments just looking at him, then kissed his fingers and laid them on Gwerin's cheek. Standing among the Rangers, Elladan and Elrohir put an arm around each other's waist then stood, temple touching temple, in mute affirmation of the love of one twin for another.

"Wake, brother. It is time to go home."

As the others took a step back from where Gwerin lay, they saw an amorphous figure rise from the cooling body – Gwerin's fëa. The fëa did not speak but looked at his twin then back at his own body, then at those with whom he had served his Ranger duty. Finally, he looked at his Captain and nodded his head respectfully.

"It has been an honor serving with you, Captain Greyfell." He said at last.

Greyfell found himself without words but tried to smile at the young man anyway. For his part, Gwerin spared one final moment looking at those he was leaving behind then turned, and after wrapping his arm around his twin's waist, the two walked away, fading into the shadows of the forest. The normal night sounds then returned but even they seemed subdued as if they, too, mourned the passing of a man far too young to die.

Later, there was no ceremony, only a few moments spent around the freshly turned earth, the resting place of a young man who had died in the line of duty. Finally, Greyfell turned and began to walk away and behind him, the rest of his unit did the same.

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The younger Ranger Unit made swift time of the short distance to the place in the forest where rested the dragon Lord. As was their custom, both groups would meet before they began the day's journey to assess the dragon's condition and make the appropriate adjustments to their routine if such was necessary for any reason. Greyfell knew that something was wrong the moment they arrived, for Aragorn, Halbarad and several of his Rangers stood around the gigantic dragon in silent observance. Aragorn looked up as the others arrived but when he frowned and looked at his brothers, they just silently shook their heads. Aragorn sighed, for he could count just as easily as anyone else and when he had counted, had come up one Ranger short. One of their own was no longer with them.

They all stood around, staring at Asgorath.

"He's sleeping." Elrohir looked at his younger brother. "Estel, why is he not on his feet?" The youngest twin peered intently under one of the lids of the nearest eye." No, no, no! This can't be happening; we're almost home; he's got to wake up. What are we supposed to do – carry him?"

Elrohir realized how ridiculous he sounded when he finally noticed everyone looking at him strangely and that Elladan and Aragorn were giving him the patented Peredhel "look."

Aragorn and Greyfell walked a complete circuit around the dragon, trying to determine if something had happened or if he had finally succumbed to the cumulative effects of the sedative that had been forced on him during his captivity. They were all aware that Asgorath had been having an increasingly difficult time trying to wake up then stay awake. Finally, when they were once more at the dragon's head, they looked at each other then Aragorn made the decision they had all been dreading.

"This is it, then." He sighed and after looking at the dragon one last time, turned to Greyfell. "Send your runner."

Talath was already walking toward his Captain before he had fully turned to face him. He smiled.

"I'm ready, sir. You can count on me, for I will see my duty met or die in the attempt."

Greyfell nodded then had to look away for a moment before he could master his emotions, for the pain of Gwerin's passing was too fresh and too deep. Finally, he laid a hand on Talath's shoulder.

"Run swiftly; run silently; and may the Valar protect you as you go."

After nodding in reply, Talath tied his hair back, tied his belt around his cloak then took off. He was quickly lost from sight.

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The Rescuers had just mounted and were beginning to make their way down the well-worn trail when Eglamar of the Avari Guards called out that a runner was coming in. Anayah's heart skipped a beat when she heard the Guard call out to them, for if a Ranger was coming in at a run then it could only mean one thing – the dragon Lord was down. It had been a wise decision that they had made to put the harness on Asgorath some time before, for they knew that if he went down there would be no way that they could move him to put it on after the fact. Everyone dismounted and waited for the Ranger to meet them.

As soon as the man entered the small clearing, they recognized him. It was "Talath the Swift," as everyone had come to call the swift footed Ranger, for the times that he had been called to special service, other than the time he drew the maps of Carn-dûm, his deeds had been done at a run. He was truly swift and just as he had claimed on more than one occasion, could probably outrun an Orc if the occasion called for it.

Talath came to a stop in front of Anayah and Gandalf then bent over his knees as he tried to catch his breath. Anayah looked at Rahan and with a nod, he handed the young man his own flask of water then stepped back to give the young man some room to recover himself. Finally, after a few moments spent trying to relax and slow his breathing and pulse, he stood upright and faced Gandalf and Anayah.

"It has happened, my Lady. The dragon is down and Strider says that you must send a message to Imladris."

Anayah sighed as she nodded, for she had hoped for a better outcome to the rescue. But they had what they had and none of them could spare the time to complain about something they had no control over. She turned to Sauros who had just come out of the trees to one side of where they all now stood.

"You need not even ask, Anayah."

They all watched as Sauros walked a short distance away. He gathered himself, his great chest expanding as he took in tremendous amounts of air. Rising on his hind legs then spreading his wings wide, he roared as only the Lord of Arda's dragons could – with unequaled power, deafening sound and an undisputable authority. The trees of the forest seemed to sway then shudder as they drew in upon themselves in response to the mighty cry of the dragon, which echoed off the mountains and seemed to split the very air around them. Not even the oldest of their numbers remembered such an occurrence ever happening before. The elves all covered their ears for the sound was almost too painful to endure. Far to the south, the call was heard – and was answered.

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Elrond and the other elder elves were having a late night tea on the balcony off the Sitting Room when the Imladris dragons suddenly began to roar. The hearts of the elves sank, for such a display by the dragons could only mean one thing – the call had gone out. They maintained their silent vigil but it wasn't until they saw Nyxe, son of Chimera and Xymor, son of Velcan, two of the largest and most powerful of the Imladris dragons, rise into the air and begin to wing their way north that they all rose to their feet.

"Safe journey." Elrond whispered.

Behind him, the other elves bowed their heads in silent and solemn agreement.

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Anayah turned to Elias and after the stallion offered her his knee, she took it and vaulted to his back. Reaching down, she offered her hand to Talath who took it then swung up to sit behind her.

"Rahan, Banion and Erenol … with me." She pointed to the others. "The rest of you stand down for the moment and take the time to prepare yourselves for what is to come. The four of us will return as soon as I make sure that the Rangers all know exactly what is expected of them."

She then wheeled Elias and galloped off into the darkness.

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The elves were the first to hear the approach of the four horses but the Rangers, with the heightened senses of their Dúnedain ancestors, were not far behind them. All of them had their swords in their hands and had ranged themselves in a complete circle around the unconscious dragon Lord. They were relieved, however, when they heard Rahan call out to them.

"Guards coming in!"

Though they hadn't lowered their swords, they had relaxed somewhat and when the four horses entered the small clearing they finally let out the breaths they hadn't realized they had been holding. Talath quickly dismounted then held his hands up to Anayah. Rahan, who was watching things closely, realized that the young Ranger was just being polite, as he lightly caught her around the waist as she dismounted. Anayah turned and smiled her thanks before walking to where her brothers and the others were standing.

She stood for a moment, just looking at the dragon, then knelt in front of him and placed her hand in front of his nostrils before raising her hand to her nose and inhaling, frowning after she did so. Looking up and noticing the others looking at her like she had just eaten a bug or something worse, just shook her head and smiled.

"Oh behave … the lot of you!" She laughed softly. "Any healer knows …" She frowned at her three brothers. "Any healer knows that the patient's breath is often a good indicator not only of general health but can also be an indicator of an ingested poison or in this case, of the sedative that he was given. When I inhaled, I smelled the sedative – he is exhaling it – he's purging his system, a natural reaction to an overdose, although in this case, he doesn't seem to be purging it fast enough to keep himself awake."

Anayah walked to the dragon's side and laid her ear against his thick hide, listened to his heartbeat, then walked to his flank and put her hand at the juncture of his hip and abdomen. She turned to the others.

"This is the easiest place to check for breathing – the easiest to see." She patted his side. "I think it's safe to say he is fast asleep."

When she again looked at the others and saw all of them looking at her with puzzled expressions on their faces while Rahan was looking at her with a raised eyebrow and crossed arms, she couldn't help herself and burst out laughing.

"Oh come on … what is the matter with all of you? Look …" She grew serious. "We have all just run naked through the middle of Mordor and have come out the other side alive and for that we have to be thankful."

Anayah paused as she saw Greyfell turn and walk away, then turned back to the others.

"Anyway, we have come out in one piece because we decided that we were not going to let anything stop us … to keep us from our goal. Things didn't quite turn out the way we wanted it to and because of that we've got some sword work ahead of us and I can't, I won't, lie to any of you … any of us could die … but I swear, as should all of you, that I will face what is ahead of me with as much grace and dignity as I have inside me.

I was just trying to lighten the mood a bit but unfortunately, I think this was one of those times that I should have paid more attention to what I was saying. I can plainly see the grief in your eyes, my friends, and on this matter I will give you the advice any seasoned warrior would give you … don't take this feeling into battle, for it could easily distract you and get you killed."

She stepped back and pointed off to the south.

"The call has gone out so start watching the sky to the south, for it is from that direction that the Imladris dragons will come. Call out when you see them. Now if you will all excuse me for a bit, I have someone I need to talk to."

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Greyfell was staring off into the forest toward where a certain young Ranger lay in a fresh bed of loam and leaves. The look on his face was unreadable but when he felt the hand on his shoulder and turned to see Anayah looking at him with tears in her eyes, he threw his arms around her and hugged her tightly, taking in the comfort only a good friend could give. The two seated themselves beneath a nearby pine tree then spent some moments with their arms around each other until Anayah finally broke the silence.

"Of all the millennia you have lived, you have fought great battles, both personal as well as for the causes of others. And of all the things you have experienced and learned, there is one thing that you missed out on; you have finally been fully initiated into the society of our kind, of the mighty race of Eldar. Now you have discovered one of the things that can wound us to the depth of our very hearts and spirits. You lost an innocent, elf-man; you lost a worthy innocent, someone you respected, loved and guided as a parent would have their own child. That young Ranger was not an assignment or one of Ostara's prisoners or even a slave. He was a mortal, an adan, and was of tender years. Now you know just why it is that we elves feel the way we do about death. It hurts us to the depths of our hearts when someone we know and care about … especially an adan … passes on to another place."

She put a gentle hand on her friend's cheek and turned his head until he was forced to look at her then kissed him on the end of his nose. She knew that she had reached his heart when she saw the shadow of a smile cross his face.

"I will miss him as well, Greyfell, for I can already notice his absence in the spirit of this place. I think it is that absence that disturbs us and causes us to feel the loss of life so deeply. Every life on Arda has a place in the singing of Ilúvatar's song, of a particular note that is sung by them, alone … a unique and utterly precious voice singing a note as unique and precious as the voice. We hear each sweet note that is sung whether it is by one of the four-leggeds, the winged or even elf or human, and we rejoice in the experience. Now there is one less voice – we notice the empty place in what is … and that is a tragedy that is almost too hurtful to contemplate although we know we must."

She gracefully gestured to the land around them.

"Gwerin would not want you to let your grief get you killed, Greyfell; you know this. So put your sorrow back into your heart for a time, and prepare yourself for what lays ahead of you because there are more 'innocents' who are going to need your experience and guidance before this business is finally concluded. I do promise that when we get back to Imladris we will talk again and I will do what I can to help you deal with what you are feeling."

Greyfell looked off into the distance for a few moments more then sighed deeply.

"You are right, my Princess … my Rangers need me."

"I need you elf-man." She smiled at him and tenderly brushed a stray lock of hair off his forehead. "You are my strength, my conscience and the only elf who has ever been able to get me to wear a gown!"

He chuckled a moment before putting an arm around Anayah's shoulders and hugging her tightly to him. He rose to his feet then helped Anayah to hers.

"Then let us go and do what we must so we can go home."

With their arms around each other's waists, they turned and began walking back to where everybody was waiting.

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They had just arrived back where the others were waiting when Aragorn walked up to the two.

"We saw them about ten minutes ago."

When Anayah and Greyfell looked to where the others were focusing their attention, they saw the two dragons following the tree line along the mountain range, almost skimming the stately pines with their bellies. It wasn't long until the pair first hovered overhead then back-winged as they landed. The elves and Rangers were surprised at how silently and carefully the two landed and how little dust and debris was raised. Anayah walked up the two.

"Lord Nyxe, Lord Xymor, I would like to thank you for answering our call. I trust your flight was uneventful and that you are both well?"

Both dragons bowed their heads in acknowledgement of the courtesies.

"Lady Anayah … a pleasure as always." Nyxe said, politely.

A small amount of time was spent in introductions then Aragorn and Greyfell for the Rangers, with their Seconds and she and Banion for the Rescuers with their respective Seconds finally got down to the business at hand. While the younger Rangers were boosted onto the dragon's back to attach the large carry-straps, Anayah let the two dragons check them out then made sure that the large loops that would go around their necks as well as the loops that they would hold with their feet were properly fitted.

Finally, there was nothing left to explain. Anayah walked up to the heads of the two huge dragons and laid a hand on each of their noses. She was just about to speak when Gandalf rode into their camp.

"Anayah, it is time. There are almost 500 Orcs and Uruk Hai heading in our direction. We must meet them in battle."

She turned back to the dragons and kissed each of them on the tip of their noses then stepped back so they could easily see her.

"My Lords, you are both mighty in spirit as well as strength, and because of this, a dear and blessed burden has been entrusted into your care. This dragon behind me is precious beyond all measure, so fly straight; fly swiftly; and be well."

She backed away and after bowing, turned to the others and touched her forehead in respect before turning to Elias and leaping into the saddle. Looking at the Rangers, her brothers and Greyfell she began her last instructions to them.

"Form a line between the dragon and the oncoming horde; no more than 50 yards between each of the three groups, less if you see that it is necessary. My group will close ranks with you on your right. Even though the dragon will be in the air, we must still protect his retreat until he reaches the borders of Imladris territory. You know what to do. When it comes down to it, we will do what we can to see that all of you make it to Imladris as well. My motto is that nobody is left behind, and my friends, that includes all of you. Now, I must go. Luck in battle."

She kissed her fist, tapped her heart twice then pointed at the Rangers and her brothers before wheeling her horse and riding away, followed by the others.

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By the time Anayah and the others had reached the Rescue Group, she could hear the din of the oncoming horde. The Orcs and Uruks knew they were approaching the elves and Rangers and being the arrogant foot soldiers that they were, were beating their chests, stomping their feet as they marched and clashing their swords and daggers on what passed for their armor. They knew that they outnumbered the defenders and this fact fueled their arrogance even more.

There was still enough of the moon overhead to give some light to the landscape and with their keen eyesight, the elves had no problem seeing the approach of their enemies. Elias was dancing, his front hooves coming off the ground in his eagerness to be about the business of the battle. Finally, having seen all she wanted, Anayah's head snapped around and she looked at the elves and wizard on either side of her. Her stallion wheeled so that he and his rider faced the others. She sighed.

"Well, this is it, my friends. We did our best to get Lord Asgorath back to Imladris, but it just wasn't meant to be. Now, however, we are faced with yet another challenge. We must still guard the dragon's retreat and in the process must prove to these creatures that though we are few … we are mighty. All of you … are the best of the best of the very, very best. I know this. You know this, and by all that is good on Middle-earth, we are also going to show them," she pointed toward the oncoming horde, "that we are the best of the best."

She rode her stallion to the end of their defense line and back, for Elias was getting a little too eager to join the battle and was working up a lather. Behind her, Banion leaned over towards Gandalf.

"She sounds like she has been doing this for millennia!"

Gandalf nodded.

"Arathorn's blood runs true in both his children."

Banion nodded as well.

Anayah once more came to a stop in front of the others.

"I cannot stress enough just how important it will be to occupy the enemy until Asgorath reaches Imladris. Lords Nyxe and Xymor are both powerful dragons, but Lord Asgorath is larger than either of them and since he is unconscious, is also a dead weight. The two will have to fly slowly and carefully, probably all the way to the border, and hence the need for our protection."

"What happens after he crosses the border, Anayah; it's less than 20 miles away? What will we do then?" Legolas asked.

"Then, Prince of Mirkwood, we are going to hike up our robes and run like a bunch of elleths." She turned and winked at Erenol and Bansil who smiled back at her.

"I cannot ask any of you to follow me after Asgorath is safe, but if you do want to ride with me, Elias and I plan to do what we can to assist our foot soldiers – the Rangers. I will not leave them behind. When our duty has been met and Asgorath is safe, then I will lend my sword to their defense."

"You know that we will be with you." Rahan said softly.

"Do you think we want to miss out on all the fun?" Banion winked at Anayah.

"I wouldn't leave your crazy brothers behind." Legolas added.

When everyone turned their heads towards Gandalf, he just looked at them with a wide-eyed look of innocence.

"Don't look at me … I need to stay so I can try and keep all you children from doing anything too terribly crazy!"

They all chuckled.

"Look!" Duilin of the Avari Guards said while pointing off to the south.

When everyone turned their attention to the south, they finally saw their enemy and Thurin Tirith, experienced Captain, or old grey wizard, their hearts still clenched at the sight of what was approaching. Then, the horde stopped … and everything grew deathly quiet. There were no night sounds whatsoever, for even the creatures native to the area had gone elsewhere for the night. There was no breeze, no insects … nothing but a cold, still silence. The only sound in their own area was the creaking of saddle leather or occasionally, a horse nervously stomping its feet. Anayah frowned then without taking her eyes off those in front of them called out to Gandalf.

"Gandalf? Explanation please!"

"I have no idea why they have stopped … unless …"

Anayah thought she was going to be sick when she saw Gandalf looking above him in the night sky. Understanding what he was looking for, the others started doing the same. Then, without warning and from where could only be hypothesized, the air began to vibrate as the huge, leathery wings of the fell beast finally broke the silence as it descended out of the clouds and circled slowly over the heads of its master's army.

"Plan A, everybody."

Rahan turned and started waving towards the forest.

"Asgorath, get back into the timber … you will be safe there."

From the forest, there was the sound as if something large was moving quickly away from the Orcs and Uruks. Trees swayed and some even cracked; dust rose and debris from the forest floor was tossed high into the air. The fell beast turned its body toward the disturbance taking place in the forest.

"Protect the dragon … we must not let the Witch King have the dragon. Be prepared to give your lives to his cause."

"You're laying it on a little thick aren't you?" Súrion whispered loud enough for Anayah to hear. "It's bad enough that 'you-know-who' is back there playing with sticks and twigs … don't antagonize the enemy any more than you have to.

Anayah scanned the tree line.

"Where is …"

She didn't get to finish her sentence before the loud screech of the fell beast interrupted her and when she looked to see what had disturbed the creature, saw the two Imladris dragons taking off with the unconscious dragon. She hung her head dejectedly for a moment before looking back to the Witch King and his fell beast where she saw the Úlaire's head turn towards the west. They had all gambled that they could hold the Witch King's attention long enough for the Imladris dragons to be able to take off and get a distance away before any action was taken.

"I think we can safely assume that our secret is out and the General now knows we switched dragons."

The elves watched as the fell beast made one more circuit over the head of his Master's army then began to angle towards the airborne dragon. Anayah reached behind her, grabbed Huan's case and was about to assemble the great longbow when she felt Gandalf's hand on her arm. She frowned, wondering why the wizard would do such a thing at such a time.

"Wait." Was all he said.

The fell beast had completed his final circuit of those below him and swung his head right as he started to bank off toward the dragon Lord and his two carriers. All anyone could say with any degree of certainty about what happened next, was that they saw a gigantic blur pass over their heads before it barreled into the unprotected front left shoulder of the fell beast, knocking it sideways and at an angle. On the ground, every Rescuer cheered, for Sauros, Lord of the Arda dragons, had entered the battle in defense of his Lord.

Taking advantage of the disorientation of the fell beast, Sauros swung his taloned hind feet forward, not only to rake at the beast's exposed shoulder, but also to propel himself upward where he used the downsweep of his own wings to gain altitude to better position himself for another strike. As it fell to one side, the ugly head and long, sinuous neck of the Witch King's mount, whipped around, its massive jaws seeking the blood red body of its attacker but when its jaws clamped shut on nothing, it screamed in frustration and wheeled sharply towards where it thought Sauros had gone.

On its back, the Witch King tried to regain control, but seeing a dark shadow on his ride's back, looked up in time to see the red dragon stooping from a great height, wings folded close to his body and talons extended. Realizing that nothing was to be gained by remaining where he was, the Úlaire released his hold on the long reins and disappeared from the fell beast's back.

The Úlaire had no sooner disappeared than Sauros sank his talons into the fell beasts neck, then in a surprise move, rolled in a complete loop, one moment his own weight pulling at the creature's body through his hold on its back, then when he had completed his loop, pushing the dazed beast towards the ground. With a scream of fury, the fell beast, itself a seasoned warrior, back-winged, throwing Sauros forward and forcing him to loose his hold.

Sauros rolled left, although his move was not quite fast enough and his right flank was scored deeply by the talons on the beast's left foot. Muscles straining and vibrating from the effort, Sauros continued his roll until he once more had room then winged high above his opponent. Again he stooped, folding his wings tightly to his body until at the last moment, he unfurled his wings and swung his talons forward. This time the fell beast banked away and by the time Sauros had unfurled his wings to stop his dive, the beast was beside him, then above him. It was Sauros that roared in pain as the fell beast grabbed his neck and shoulder with its jaws while it sank its talons into his hind quarters.

Down the two dropped, swiftly approaching the ground below them until Sauros finally managed to roll onto his back. His position having been reversed, and not wanting to be the first one to hit the ground, the fell beast released his hold and rolled away from the red dragon. After the two had regained the correct flight attitude, they circled each other, each seeking an opening to again attack.

The battle may have continued for some time until one or the other was finally killed except for one small intervention. There was a high-pitched sound that continued for some moments until a certain black shafted arrow finally imbedded itself in the neck of the fell beast. Though the wound was not fatal, having missed the jugular vein by at least two inches, it did serve to discourage the creature. After uttering one more shriek, it turned towards Carn-dûm and was soon lost to sight.

Sauros also turned away, and when he did, those on the ground breathed a sigh of relief. As Anayah lowered Huan and began disassembling him, she spoke, without looking at anyone.

"Well, Mirkwood … I guess we're even … I missed."

Behind her, Legolas smiled.

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The elves and wizard then turned their attention back to the massed army in front of them. As they waited for the battle to commence, Gandalf brought something to their attention that none of them had thought about.

"I hate to be the bearer of bad tidings, everyone, but did anyone besides me notice that there were no burn marks on this fell beast's face?"

They all may as well have jumped into the frigid waters of the Anduin, for the effect on them was the same. Their hearts plummeted to think that the Witch King could very well be coming back before they reached the safety of Imladris. More than one warrior uttered a soft but vehement epithet at the prospect of another confrontation with the Úlaire.

"Then I think it would be in everyone's best interest if we were in elven territory before he can get back here with one of the other two beasts! Now, let's form up and get this party started." Anayah told the others.

Everyone nodded their heads, then following Anayah's lead, formed a line then began to move forward. Though they were too focused to take direct notice, to the west of where they were, the Rangers were closing ranks and moving in their direction.

"If we can hold them until dawn," Gandalf called out to the others, "then I think we will lose about half of them, the orcs at least, and dawn is but a short time away. Do not lose hope, my friends, for it is entirely possible that we will survive the next few moments."

"Archers ready!" Anayah called out. "Quick fire … NOW!"

A rain of arrows began to descend on the soldiers in front of them and though many dropped, many more took their place. When the supply of arrows had been exhausted, everyone had no other option than to go to their swords. Though he had said nothing, Rahan had been secretly worried about Anayah fighting from horseback, for she was not that tall, her horse was, and her sword being proportionate to her height and reach might have been a little ineffective. However, he had no reason to worry as he saw the enchanted ebony bladed sword first flame, then lengthen, then split in two. Anayah seemed to sense that he was looking at her and she turned her head then winked at him before once more turning her attention to the horde in front of her.

"Hm." Was all Rahan said before he entered the battle as well.

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The battle was a melee from the beginning as there was too much of a disparity in numbers for there to be any chance whatsoever of conducting an ordered campaign. They had all known this and other than try to stay together, keep the forward momentum going and try to watch each other's backs, there was no battle plan, no strategy in place for what they were going to do. Stay alive. That was what they were going to do their best to accomplish. Soon, all that could be heard was the grunt of effort, cries of pain and the screams of the dying.

The jerky body movements of the Orcs and the blustery swaggers of the much larger Uruk Hai did not fool the Rescuers as they closed the distance between them, their horses going from a sedate walk to a trot, and finally to a determined canter. From the corner of their eyes, the elves and wizard caught sight of the Rangers as they ran to close the distance between them. Anayah nodded her head as she realized just how savvy a Commander her brother was and Greyfell as well, for the two had seen the main body of the horde and knew that on foot or not, their Rangers would be an aid to the mounted warriors. The two Ranger groups, having signaled each other, began to close with the other group and soon were well within the 50-yard perimeter originally set for their deployment.

Through many dangers, toils and snares, I have already come;

Anayah was pulled off Elias by one of the Uruks who died mere moments later when Elias reared then came down on him, his hooves striking the creature's head, caving it in quite handily. The sight was not pretty, but it didn't have to be … the end result was what it was meant to be … death. Though she didn't have a chance to remount, Elias stayed by her side, his battle fury a match for his rider as he bit, stomped and crushed skulls, flesh, bones or anything else that he could reach or that came too close to his Lady.

Rahan kept one eye on his Charge, as did the others when they had a chance. Anayah had her own style when fighting, always moving with a fluid, non-stop grace that only a smaller fighter could attain and maintain. He saw her duck beneath a scimitar that would have taken her head off while the sword in both her right and left hand continued moving, striking soldiers on either side of her.

Rahan sliced with his own sword, a diagonal left to right cut that opened up the front of the Orc whose eyes still blinked, even as he slid to the ground in the middle of his own intestines. War was never pretty, never clean, neat or decisive. War was a gut-wrenching, butt-kicking bitch and she was more than willing to bite whatever came within reach of her ravenous jaws … friend, ally or even the enemy – it mattered not to her.

Though Prince Banion of the Avari was a royal, his Thurin Tirith had trained him well and he fought with almost the same degree of skill as did his Guards. Legolas, a seasoned veteran of many battles, was deadly with his long knives, once more proving that in battle, either from the back of a horse or on foot; the blades were as deadly accurate as was a sword. Then there was Gandalf … what was there to say? The wizard may have seemed ancient, but he still displayed strength, agility and skill as he used both sword and staff with deadly accuracy, breaking bones, heads … whatever a foolish Orc or Uruk chose to put within his reach.

Gandalf watched the right flank carefully, the Rangers watched the left flank and the Thurin Tirith and their respective Charges guarded the middle of the long column as they fought their way forward, pushing the enemy line before them. Why weren't they overwhelmed from the beginning? What gave them the courage to face odds that would make the most seasoned warrior cringe? Perhaps their motivation was the sick dragon that was being transported to Imladris even as they fought their great battle. Perhaps it was nothing more than an instinctive urge to want to live, death being an unsatisfactory alternative. Or perhaps it was because they were good beings and in that basic goodness, held the power to inspire each other beyond what should have been possible. Perhaps.

The battle continued while overhead, the sky began to take on the first blush of the new day. On the field, blood had been spilled on both sides although through some miracle, none of the elves or Rangers had lost their lives. Side by side fought both Ranger and elf, both mighty in battle, swords quenching their thirst in the blood of Orc and Uruk alike.

As the battle progressed, the brave Rescuers were finding themselves more and more hard pressed to hold their line and keep the enemy in front of them. Finally, the inevitable happened and the line was broken, the screaming horde moved through the breach and rounded on the rear guard of the defenders.

"They're through! They've broken the line!" Gandalf called out in a voice easily heard from one end of the field of battle to the other.

It was at this time that Sauros once more entered the battle and even though sorely wounded, the mighty dragon was determined to do what he could to aid the exhausted and hard-pressed warriors, his friends.

"Anayah … to your left! Greyfell is in trouble!"

Anayah's head swung toward her Captain and when she also saw Rahan pointing, she looked and her heart clenched as she saw Greyfell go to his knees before an onslaught of Orcs. Though he was completely surrounded by the enemy, with no hope of escape, he determinedly tried to regain his feet and almost managed to do so, until the handle of a scimitar hit him above the right temple and the powerful blow sent him to the ground.

Turning to where Elias was busy flattening the head of an Orc with his deadly front hooves, she whistled and instantly the stallion came to her side. An Uruk warrior attempted to once more pull her away from the stallion but the palm of her hand drove particles of the creature's nose into his brain and discouraged him from any further thoughts of laying hands on her – forever.

Vaulting to Elias' back, she turned the stallion's head towards the downed Captain and when the two reached him and those who surrounded him, she dove out of the saddle and in a move that scared a millennium off her watching Captain's immortal life, grabbed two of the brutes around the neck and used both her momentum and their bulk to take them to the ground and break a hole in the circle around Greyfell. After regaining her feet and reaching behind her, she drew both daggers from their back sheaths and immediately went to work.

The speed and intricate patterns of the two short blades mesmerized the soldiers and it was this hesitation that resulted in their death. They were so surprised by the appearance of the she-elf in their midst and by her choice of weapons that they failed to raise their own in their own defense and soon … it was too late. Telling her stallion to watch her back she rushed to Greyfell and after making a cursory examination and finding nothing more than a few minor battle wounds and a severely lacerated scalp wound above his ear, turned to signal Elias to kneel.

Her heart skipped a beat as she saw several Orcs moving in her direction and she was about to stand and draw her daggers once more when Soron and the rest of Greyfell's Rangers walked into her field of vision. Greyfell's Second smiled at her then nodded to where the stallion was just settling himself on the ground.

"See to our Captain, my Lady." Soron nodded his head at the others. "Me and the lads will see that you are not disturbed."

With a smile and a nod, Anayah turned back to the injured elf and after much effort and more than once glance in the direction of their fierce defenders, managed to get the unconscious elf onto the stallion's back. After he had once more regained his feet, Elias rumbled deep in his chest.

Help comes.

Anayah's head snapped around, finally noticing how much headway they had made since the beginning of the battle as well as how much lighter the sky was.

'Tis grace hath brought me safe thus far …

She scanned the forest around them for they were no more than five miles from the borders of Imladris territory. Unfortunately, they would probably be the hardest five miles of the journey. Then she heard them, although it was not from the forest that they came. As they had assisted both man and elf in every righteous battle fought in the name of all that was good about life since they first came to Middle-earth, they arrived to lend aid in this battle as well.

They screamed their own battle cry as they stooped from the overhead clouds, great golden wings folded close to their bodies, opening to break their momentum as their razor sharp talons swung forward to clutch, impale, shred and otherwise deal death in any fashion they could to the Orc and Uruk horde. Though there were only two, to the weary warriors who witnessed their arrival, it may as well have been the entire elf army.

"The Valar have truly looked upon us with mercy, my brave Captain." Anayah settled Greyfell back against her chest then turned the stallion to head back to the battle. "Yes, merciful they are … the eagles have arrived."

Even with the aerial assistance of both Sauros and the two eagles, the battle was still not heading towards an ending favorable to the valiant defenders. The elves, Rangers, a wounded Sauros and Gandalf as well, had been on a great journey, had fought both darkness and sorcery and were weary beyond what most of them had ever experienced before. They would fight until they could fight no more and even with their last breath, would stab one final time at the heart of the enemy. But if death was what they had thought would be the outcome of the battle, even in this they were wrong.

And grace will lead me home.

The ground began to tremble and both the Rescuers as well as the army of the enemy paused and looked to the south. Just as the first brilliant rays of the sun gently kissed the land around them, a great cheer went up. Two great banners came towards them carried by warriors of two great elven houses. The banner of the Imladris realm flew proudly next to the banner of the golden crowned black swan of the Avari. One hundred fresh warriors were riding towards them at a run.

Anayah quickly turned to the others.

"Form two corridors then hold … NOW!" She yelled.

The elves and Rangers quickly moved to comply and had just finished moving into their formation when the two armies rode through their midst and plowed into the enemy horde. The Orcs and Uruks attempted to flee but only a few managed to make it to the shadows. All too soon it was over and silence once more fell over them all.

Anayah rode up to where her brothers were standing beside Legolas.

"Mirkwood, if you wouldn't mind riding behind your fellow wood elf …"

Legolas nodded and after walking to Súrion's horse, leaped up behind the elf.

"Elladan."

The eldest twin's head turned toward his sister.

"As the eldest son, command goes to you."

Elladan took the reins of Legolas' horse and after making sure that all the Rangers were mounted behind another rider, spoke three of the sweetest words that anyone had heard in some time.

"Let's go home."

Without a word, the Rescuers turned and began the short ride home. While some might have questioned why nobody stopped to see to the wounds suffered in the battle, nobody said a word aloud for their hearts knew why they didn't stop. They wanted the sweet peace of Imladris to surround them, to sweep away their pain, their fears and the nightmare of what they had just gone through.

Silently they rode the final miles until finally, without a word, they all stopped. Elladan turned to his sister then motioned her to his side.

"Together, my sister."

Anayah's eyes filled with tears as she nodded her head.

"Together." She softly replied.

The two took each other's hands then as if they knew their riders' minds, the two horses stepped forward and passed the barrier, invisible to all but those who had the right to know that it was there. As they passed into elven territory, the air suddenly smelled sweeter, the breeze was cool and gentle and the songs of the birds welcomed them home.

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Elrond had been examining Lord Asgorath when the border guard ran up to him, then went to one knee, breathless and sweating. Though his heart beat madly with expectation, he patiently waited for the guard to catch his breath and deliver his message. Finally, the elf stood and after begging his Lord's pardon, took a deep breath.

"My Lord, they're home!"

Elrond put a steadying hand on the elf's shoulder.

"My Lord … they're only two miles out!"

He thanked the elf then turned back to his task, dashing a tear of relief off his cheek. He would have finished what he was doing had Ederyn not lowered her great head and looked at him with one great eye.

"You are the Lord of Imladris, are you not?"

When Elrond did not reply, she continued.

"My mate is but asleep, Lord of Imladris, but if he were awake, he would want you to go to our returning warriors. These are your children as well as friends and allies … go to them, my Lord. Go welcome our brave warriors home."

TBC