Chapter 50:

Théoden and Aragorn stood looking down upon the thousands of Rohan soldiers that had arrived for the mustering of the Rohirrim from their high encampment.

"Six thousand spears," Théoden said wearily. "Less than half of what I had hoped for."

"Six thousand will not be enough to break the lines of Mordor." Aragorn said.

Théoden turned to look at him. "More will come," he replied.

"Every hour lost hastens Gondor's defeat. We have until dawn then we must ride."

The king nodded before turning and walking away. Aragorn sighed as he turned back to look at the Rohirrim far below. There just were not enough men. To his side he felt movement, as if someone moved to stand next to him. He turned his head to look – but no one was there.

'Do not loose hope,' a voice whispered. 'I have faith in you…'

Aragorn closed his eyes for a moment and took a deep breath. That voice that had just whispered to him was Aria's - he would know it anywhere. But how could it have been? She was in Minas Tirith. Unless…

He quickly turned and went in search of his friends. Legolas would know if something was wrong with his sister. It did not take him long to find the elf. He was with Gimli near the mountainside that camp was set up near. The closer her got to the mountain, the more he noticed that the horses were restless. He approached his two friends who were standing near Éomer who was saddling his horse.

"The horses are restless and the men are quiet," Legolas said aloud as he took in what was going on around him.

"They grow nervous in the shadow of the mountain," Éomer added.

"That road there," Gimli asked. "Where does that lead?"

"It is the road to the Dimholt. The door under the mountain," Legolas answered.

"None who venture there ever return. That mountain is evil." Éomer added before he walked away.

Aragorn could not help but feel drawn to that mountain somehow. He could almost make out a figure standing in the shadow of the mountain. It was almost as if this shadowy figure was beckoning towards him – wanting him to take the road into the mountain – to walk past the ancient Pukel men carvings and into so called Paths of the Dead.

"Aragorn!" Gimli said, causing Aragorn to jump a bit. He looked down at his dwarf friend to see what he wanted. "Let's go find some food."

He nodded but quickly turned back towards the mountain to see if the shadowy figure was still there. But it was gone. He turned and followed his friends on their quest to find some food. As they walked among the men who were busy either sharpening their weapons or talking among them, Aragorn still could not shake the feeling that something was wrong with Aria. Part of him wanted to bring the subject of Aria up to Legolas, yet he also knew that by asking questions about the bond between Legolas and Aria might cause a panic in the elf. He already knew that Legolas was worrying enough about Aria and the twins as it was. Perhaps some food and rest was all that he needed.


"There," Éowyn said adjusting the helmet on Merry's head. "A true esquire of Rohan."

Feeling pleased with his new position as an esquire, Merry drew his sword from its scabbard and held it out. "I'm ready!" he said.

His sudden movements caused Éowyn to jump back in her seat slightly and laugh a bit as she held up her hands to Merry.

"Sorry," he sheepishly said. "It isn't all that dangerous. It's not even sharp."

He began to closely inspect his sword.

"Well that's no good. You won't be kill many orcs with a blunt blade. Come on," she said leading him out of the tent.

Merry happily lead the way out of the tent, swinging his sword to and fro as he practiced his swipes.

"To the smithy! Go!" Éowyn said, encouragingly. She stood by and watched for a second as Merry ran off to get his sword sharpened.

"You should not encourage him," Éomer said, from a nearby campfire where he sat with Gamling. They both were trying to keep warm in the cool night.

"You should not doubt him."

"I do not doubt his heart, only the reach of his arm," Éomer retorted as Gamling laughed.

"Why should Merry be left behind? He has as much cause to go to war as you. Why can he not fight for those he loves?" Éowyn said in a serious tone of voice as she started to walk away from her brother.

"You know as little of war as that Hobbit." Éomer said standing up and walking towards her. "When fear takes him and the blood screams and the horror of battle takes hold. Do you think he would stand and fight? He would flee. And he would be right to do so. War is the providence of men, Éowyn."

Éomer placed his hands on his sister's shoulders before turning and walking away from her. She simply stood there for a moment before. Did he actually know what she was planning on doing?

A cool breeze rushed through the campsite quickly. She shivered for a moment before turning. That was when she heard a whisper.

'Let your heart guide you towards the path that you know to be right…' the voice whispered.

Then the voice was gone like the breeze.

As Éowyn turned from and walked back toward her tent, it suddenly dawned on her whose voice she had heard.

Aria.

Yet Aria had left days ago. How was this possible?

She was probably just tried. She needed a good night's rest before she put her plan into motion in the morning.

There was no way that this shield maiden was being left behind.


Legolas sighed as he stretched out his legs along a sturdy tree branch and leaned back against the trunk of a tree. He had not been able to do this for some time. Placing his hands behind his head, he turned his face up towards the stars and watched them.

What he would not give to be holding Aria at that moment. He always loved to hold her close and they watch the stars together. They had not done that in a long time.

It had only been handful of days since she had left with Gandalf and the others for Minas Tirith, yet everyday apart from her was agony. The years spent apart, when he thought her to be dead, was pure torture. Yet this was somehow worse.

Now he knew that his wife was alive.

He knew that she was in harm's way.

He knew that he should be by her side but instead he stayed with Aragorn as she had requested that he do.

He closed his eyes and felt for her through their bond. Quickly he found her warmth, along with the soft lights of the twins. The longer he stayed connected to her deeply through their bond the more he felt that she was there with him. It felt like she was gently running her fingers through his hair.

'I give you my strength,' she whispered to him in their bond. 'I keep enough for the twins and I...'

He tried to reply through their bond, but found that he could not. It was almost as if their bond was cut once again. Yet this time, he did not feel cold and alone – he still felt her warmth. He knew that Aria was still alive, but something seemed off. It was almost as if Aria was weaker. Was the darkness that was spreading from Mordor finally taking its toll on her?

He hoped that this was not the case. Not only for her sake, but for their twins as well.

Movement near the steep path approaching camp caught his attention. What was a rider doing out this late, let alone coming into their camp? Perhaps he and Gimli should go check it out.


Images moved through his dream. He saw Arwen lying against her bed in Imladris, Aria's soft grey eyes fading into nothing, the Pukel men carvings and the entrance to the Dimholt.

'I choose a mortal life,' he heard Arwen whisper. 'I wish I could have seen him one last time…'

The image of Arwen faded from his dream as he watched in horror as the Evenstar pendent fell to the ground and shattered.

Sitting up in a cold sweat and drawing his sword, Aragorn gasped a bit for air. A Rohan solider stood at the doorway of his tent. "Sir?" the solider said. "King Théoden awaits you my lord."

Aragorn shook away the memory of the dream as he pulled on his boots and followed the solider to the king's tent. As Aragorn entered, he found Théoden talking to a hooded figure. The king glanced up at Aragorn then back at the hooded figure. "I take my leave," the king said, leaving Aragorn in the tent alone with the hooded figure.

Once the king was gone, the hooded figure stood up and removed the hood as he turned to face Aragorn.

"My lord Elrond," Aragorn said bowing once he realized who was there with him.

"I come on behalf of one whom I love. Arwen is dying. She will not long survive the evil that now spreads from Mordor. The light of the Evenstar is failing. As Sauron's power grows her strength wanes. Arwen's life is now tied to the fate of the Ring. The Shadow is upon us Aragorn. The end has come."

"It will not be our end, but his."

"You ride to war but not to victory. Sauron's armies ride on Minas Tirith, this you know. But in secret he sends another force, which will attack, from the river. A fleet of Corsair ships sails from the South. They will be in the city in two days. You are outnumbered Aragorn. You need more men."

"There are none."

"There are those that dwell in the mountain."

Aragorn briefly remembers the vision from earlier in the day of the shadowy figure that he saw beckoning towards him at the mountain. It had to be the King of the Dead. "Murderers, traitors. You would call upon them to fight? They believe in nothing. They answer to no one."

"They will answer to the King of Gondor," Elrond said as he pulled out a sword from inside of his cloak and held it out towards Aragorn. "Andúril, the Flame of the West, forged from the shards of Narsil."

Without hesitation, Aragorn took the sword and held it in his hands. It felt right in his hands. "Sauron will not have forgotten the sword of Elendil," he said as he withdrew the blade from its scabbard. "The blade that was broken shall return to Minas Tirith."

"The man who can wield the power of this sword can summon to him an army more deadly than any that walks this earth. Put aside the Ranger. Become who you were born to be. Ónen i-Estel Edain."

"Ú-chebin Estel anim," Aragorn answered as he sheathed the sword.


Whispers had made their way through camp that a mysterious visitor had come to see Lord Aragorn, only to leave a short time later. And now Aragorn was about to leave as well. As soon as Éowyn had heard these whispers, she immediately went in search of Aragorn to see if they were true or not. She was disheartened to find them true when she found Aragorn finishing putting his saddle on Brego.

"Why are you doing this? The war lies to the east. You cannot leave on the eve of battle. You cannot abandon the men," she said approaching him.

"Éowyn…"

"We need you here."

"Why have you come?" he gently asked. He had to know if Aria had been right about Éowyn's feelings all along before he left to go to the Paths of the Dead and then into battle.

"Do you not know?"

Ah. Of Course. Aria had been right. "It is but a shadow and a thought that you love. I can not give you what you seek," Aragorn gently said. He meant it too. His heart belonged to Arwen. It always would. Perhaps that was the little bit of elvish blood in him – he could only love one fëa.

Hearing Aragorn's words, Éowyn backed away from him upset. Seeing that she was upset, he sought to comfort her a bit more. "I have wished you joy since I first saw you," he said as he touched her face before turning and walking away leading Brego behind him. Éowyn stood there and cried.

Silently Aragorn walked through the camp with Brego until a familiar voice stopped him. "Just where do you think you're off to?"

He turned and looked towards the voice. Gimli was sitting next to a tent looking up at him. "Not this time. This time you must stay Gimli."

"Hmmmm."

"Have you learnt nothing of the stubbornness of dwarves?" Legolas said as he walked up beside Aragorn with Arod all saddled up.

"You might as well accept it," Gimli said. "We're going with you laddie."

Aragorn couldn't help but smile.


Théoden and the soldiers watched as Aragorn, Legolas and Gimli disappeared on horseback down the Dimholt Road. Many of the soldiers were confused as to why they were leaving. "What's happening? Where is he going? I don't understand," was what many of them asked.

"Lord Aragorn! Why does he leave on the eve of battle?" was what others asked.

"He leaves because there is no hope," Gamling answered.

"He leaves because he must," Théoden corrected him.

"Too few have come. We cannot defeat the armies of Mordor." Gamling said, still trying to argue his point.

"No we cannot," Théoden said, shaking his head. "But we will meet them in battle no the less."


Éowyn stood looking out into the distance as her mind replayed the events of the last few days. She wrapped her arms around herself in a hug and her uncle approached her. It was early the next morning.

"I have left instructions," he said moving next to her. "The people are to follow your rule in my stead. Take up my seat in the Gold Hall. Long may you defend Edoras, if the battle goes ill."

"What other duty would you have me do my lord?"

"Duty?" he said shaking his head as he moved towards her. "No. I would have you smile again, not grieve for those whose time has come. You shall live to see these days renewed and no more despair."

He gently held her head in his hands and placed his forehead on hers. Éowyn closed her eyes. She hoped that in the end what she was going to do make her uncle just as proud.


Aria lay motionless on the bed. If her friends did not know any better they would have thought that she was sleeping. But that was not the case. No one knew what was exactly wrong with her. Ever since Gandalf had brought her back to her room unresponsive, no one had been able to figure out what was wrong with her. All they knew for certain was that she was not dead.

Her breathing was steady. Her heart rate was steady. And she had no fever. Just to be extra sure, Gandalf had a healer come and check out Aria and the babies. He had made up some story that she had fallen and was resting. He just wanted to make sure that whatever affliction had taken ahold of Aria had not taken ahold of the babies.

Thankfully, the babies were fine.

It still begged the question, what was wrong with Aria?


The entire journey into the Dwimorberg had been folly. Aragorn had not been able to convince the King of the Dead and his Dead Army to join him in their fight. He even promised them their release from their curse. The only response they had been given was a shower of human skulls falling around them as they ran out of the cave.

They emerged into the sunlight on the mountainside over looking the Anduin River. Down below ships could be seen on the river with a nearby town in flames. They were too late. Aragorn sank to his knees in despair as tears stung at his eyes. Behind him, Legolas gripped his shoulder in support. All three friends were upset. They all knew without the Dead Army, there was almost no way to save Minas Tirith.

A sound behind them made them turn around. Out of the mountainside, the King of the Dead appeared. He approached the trio.

"We fight!" was all that he said.


Across the plains, thousands upon thousands of orcs lined up in formations. All of the readying to attack the city of Minas Tirith. Osgiliath had fallen. The soldiers that had gone with Faramir were slaughtered, and the only body to return to the white city was that of their captain being dragged by his horse. The orcs had even used catapults to launch the heads of the fallen Gondorian soldiers into the city.

Once the horse was safely within the city gates, one of the soldiers had placed Faramir's body on a stretcher so that he could be taken to the highest level to his father.

"Quick hurry!" Irolas, the commander in charge of the city soldiers said.

Once they were at the upper most level, Denethor and his attendants with Pippin and Gandalf behind them met them in the courtyard.

"Faramir! Say not that he has fallen!" Denethor said in a panic as he approached the stretcher where Faramir lay.

"They were outnumbered! None survived," Irolas answered.

Standing close to Gandalf, Pippin watched the scene in front of him. Faramir had treated him with nothing but kindness when he had met him. He felt sorry for him at the way that his father had treated him.

"My sons are spent!" Denethor said as he staggered away from the stretcher that bore his son's body. "My line has ended!"

As Denethor moved away from Faramir, Pippin ran up to the captain and touched his face. That was when he could tell that Faramir was still alive. "He is alive!" the hobbit cried out. But no one paid him any attention.

"The house of Stewards has failed," Denethor said, seemingly in a daze of sorts.

"He needs medicine my lord!" Pippin said, trying again.

"My line has ended."

"My lord!"

By that point, Denethor had reached the edge of the parapet and looked over the wall at the massive orc army below. He saw trolls putting boulders into catapults and readying them for battle. "Rohan has deserted us!" he cried as he watched in horror as the catapults were let loose upon the city. The places that were hit by the boulders began to crumble down upon below on the lower levels that were fleeing for their lives.

"Théoden's betrayed me!" Denethor said before he began to yell at the soldiers below. "ABANDON YOUR POSTS! FLEE! FLEE FOR YOUR LIVES!"

The soldiers below look confused and begin to leave their posts, doing at they were told. Satisfied with his order, Denethor turns around, just as a large white stick hits him in the face. Gandalf hits him again in the stomach with his staff and then hits him across the back to knock him down to the floor.

"Prepare for battle!" he yelled out to the fleeing men. "Hurry men! To the wall! Defend the wall! Over here! Return to your posts!"

The soldiers quickly did as the White Wizard said.

Leaving Denethor's unconscious body with his attendants and Pippin, Gandalf rode down to one of the lower levels on the back of Shadowfax to rally the soldiers. "Send these foul beats into the abyss!" he ordered as the Gondorian soldiers launched their catapults at the orc armies.

The Siege of Gondor had begun.


"I should be out there with Mithrandir." Haldir said glancing out the window. "I know that I am recovered and strong enough to use a bow and arrow."

"But what good is that in close hand to hand combat?" Tauriel said as she sat on the side of Aria's bed, gently dabbing her friend's forehead with a damp cloth. "I have a better idea. How about I go and fight, while you stay here and take care of Aria. I can at least fight in close quarters."

"It is I who should be protecting you." Haldir said turning to look back at his wife.

"And what about Aria? Who would stay to protect her and the twins? You would actually leave me here to go out and fight, while leaving my princess – let alone my best friend – vulnerable to an attack?" Tauriel said, as she stood up and moved towards her husband. "What if something else were to happen to you? Do you think that any of the healers in Minas Tirith know how to treat elves? I almost lost you in once. I cannot bear the thought of loosing you to the hands of Sauron!"

Tears spilled down Tauriel's cheeks as she tried her best to stop them. But it was no use. They continued to fall. She had shown emotions like this in front of her husband before, but the times were always few and far between. Haldir crossed the space between them and pulled his wife into his arms. "I will stay," he whispered as he pressed a kiss into her hair. "But if the fight comes to us, then I am going to fight."

She nodded in his arms. "As will I."


There was nothing but cold the surrounded her. She had been here long enough and had gotten a bit used to it. But she knew that she would not be able to last much longer. Her strength was dwindling fast.

The entire reason she was stuck in the Shadow World was because she had been pulled here so to speak. She did not know how it happened. The only thing she could remember was that darkness surrounded her and when she woke up, she was on the other side of things. She could see and hear her friends. Yet only communicate with them through whispers. She could even feel her bond with her husband. That gave her comfort at least.

That meant there was still a chance to get out of this place.

Who had pulled her here?

Had she done this to herself?

Perhaps paying a visit to Sauron himself would help her find the answers she needed.


Aragorn, Legolas and Gimli stood along the shore of the Anduin River, waiting for the Corsair ships to pass by them. As they did, Aragorn called out to the mercenaries.

"You may go no further."

The boson of the first ship stood up to see who was talking to them.

"You will not enter Gondor." Aragorn said adding to what he had first said.

"Who are you to deny us passage?" the boson asked.

"Legolas, fire a warning shot past the boson's ear." Aragorn said without turning to look at his friend.

"Mind your aim," Gimli added.

Legolas quickly fitted an arrow into his bow and took aim. But just as he released the arrow, Gimli knocked the bottom of Legolas' bow, which sent his aim off. Instead of sending the arrow where he had aimed for, the arrow killed a mercenary standing next to the boson. Legolas turned and glared at Gimli, who had put a hand up to his mouth just as Aragorn looked over at Legolas.

"Oh!" Gimli said. "That's it, right, we warned you. Prepared to be boarded!"

"Boarded? By you and what army?" a mercenary asked as the others laughed.

"This army," Aragorn said as the King of the Dead and his army emerged through Aragorn and the others to attack the ships.


"Ow!" Sam groaned as he slid down the remaining stairs. He couldn't help but cry some more. He had come all this way. Damn near to Mordor – all for what? To have his best friend turn on him for some lying, vile creature!

He slowly sat up and as he did he spotted the remains of the lembas bread, still partially in their leaf wrappings, sitting on a nearby rock. Reaching for one, he held it in his hand before crushing it in anger.

He had been right all along.

Gollum had done this.

'Do not let anger cloud your decisions, Master Samwise,' a gentle voice whispered to him.

Looking all around him, he could see no one else with him. Yet the voice he had heard sounded so familiar. He had heard this voice before, but he could not place it. He glanced back up the stairs that he had come down. Taking a deep breath to calm himself, he took the advice of the whisper.

If he was going to help Mr. Frodo, then he would have to do it calmly.


"The scouts report Minas Tirith is surrounded. The lower levels in flames. Everywhere, legions of the enemy advance," Éomer said as the Rohirrim were stopped by a lake taking a quick break before finishing their ride into Minas Tirith.

"Time is against us," Théoden said. "Make us ready!"

Sitting nearby, yet still far enough away so that she would not draw attention was Éowyn and Merry. She had over heard the conversation between her brother and uncle. "Take heart, Merry. It will soon be over."

"My lady. You are fair and brave and have much to live for and many who love you. I know it is too late to turn aside. I know there is not much point now in hoping. If I were a knight of Rohan capable of great deeds…but I'm not. I'm a Hobbit. And I know I can't save Middle Earth. I just want to help my friends: Frodo, Sam, Pippin. More than anything I wish I could see them again. I even wish that I could see Lady Aria once again. I heard her voice whispering to me last night to be brave at what was to come," he said smiling up at Éowyn.

Éowyn said nothing to Merry about the whisper that she had heard from Aria as well. Her attention was suddenly drawn elsewhere.

"Prepare to move out!" Éomer announced.

"Make haste," the king announced. "We ride through the night."

A nearby solider sounded a horn to rally the riders. Éowyn and Merry put on their helmets as they prepared to ride against as well.

"To battle," she said.

"To battle," he answered.

The main gate of the city had fallen to the armies of Mordor as they continued to rain fireballs down upon the helpless city.

"Retreat! The city is breached! Fall back to the second level! Get the women and children out. Get them out! Retreat!" Gandalf yelled from the back of Shadowfax.

Soldiers hurried people through the gates before closing them to the next level before orcs moved into the city.

As the fighting continued to move up the levels of the city, a little hobbit ran down amongst the chaos and confusion. He had just witnessed Denethor beginning to set a funeral pyre for his son – when in fact his son was alive. Pippin had tried to tell the steward that, but he would hear none of it. Instead he had released him from his service and told him to die in what way seems best to him. Pippin then knew that Gandalf was the only one who could save Faramir. That was why he was running back into this madness. "Gandalf!" he cried. "Gandalf! Denethor has lost his mind. He's burning Faramir alive!"

"Up! Quickly!" he said grabbing ahold of the hobbit and pulling him up on to Shadowfax as they took off to the upper levels. As they came out of a tunnel, the Witch King met them as he sat upon the back of his fell beast in front of them.

"Go back to the abyss! Fall into the nothingness that awaits you and your master!" Gandalf said as he held his staff in front of him and Pippin.

"Do you not know death when you see it, old man?" the Witch King said. "This is my hour!"

Behind Gandalf, Pippin screamed as the Witch King's sword burst into flames and caused Gandalf's staff to burst asunder in his grasp. This caused him and Pippin to be thrown from Shadowfax's back.

"You have failed! The world of men will fall," the Witch King said as he lifted his sword to strike Gandalf, but a sound in the distance caught his attention. He quickly flew off on the back of his fell beast.

As Gandalf and Pippin climbed back onto Shadowfax, they looked out into the distance to see what had caught the attention of the Witch King. With a sigh of relief, a small smile crossed the Istari's face before urging Shadowfax forward towards the Tombs of the Kings of Gondor – the Riders of Rohan had arrived.


Across the skyline of a nearby hill, the Rohirrim lined up in formation. The horsemen advanced first with their king leading the way. Théoden stopped to assess the situation before turning to his men.

"Courage Merry," Éowyn whispered to the hobbit she held tightly against her as they waited for instructions. "Courage for our friends."

"Éomer, take your Eored down the left flank," the king ordered.

"Flank ready!" Éomer replied.

"Gamling, follow the King's banner down the center. Grimbold! Take your company right after you pass the wall. Forth and fear no darkness!" Théoden said as he gave orders to his commanders. He then turned to face all the men. "Arise! Arise riders of Théoden. Spears shall be shaken, shields shall be splintered, a sword day, a red day ere the sun rises!"

Across the front line of riders, the Rohirrim prepare for battle by lowering their spears. The orcs that have prepared to meet them have lowered their pikes as well.

"Whatever happens, stay with me," Éowyn whispers to Merry again. "I'll look after you."

Merry couldn't help but smile, as he looked around at all the soldiers. Here he was preparing to go into battle. If Pippin could see him now…

As a last minute attempt to rally moral support, Théoden rode in front of the men and ran his sword along their spears. "Ride now, ride now! Ride for ruin and the world's ending! DEATH!"

"DEATH!" the men shouted.

"DEATH!" Théoden shouted again.

"DEATH!"

"DEATH!"

"DEATH!"

"DEATH!" Merry and Éowyn shouted together.

"Forth Eorlingas!" Théoden shouted as horns were sounded and the army began to move forward with their king leading the way. They riders broke into a gallop the closer they got to the orcs as the orc archers prepared to fire on the riders. The closer the riders got to the orcs, the more some of them became erratic. Eventually the Rohirrim smashed into their lines and began to slaughter them left, right and center.

The battle raged on.


Traveling in the Shadow World was good for one thing – getting to places faster. She stood at the base of Barad-dûr and glanced up at the massive structure looming in front of her. She knew that a weakened Sauron sat up in that tower, waiting for the One Ring to return to him. That was why he sent his armies out across Middle Earth. He was not physically strong enough without that wrenched ring to do anything.

That was why he lusted after it so.

That was why it had to be destroyed.

Most thought that the all seeing eye that watched from atop the tower was Sauron. But that was merely his symbol that was used to strike fear into the hearts of men. Yes, she did fear Sauron. But right now she just wanted him gone for good. Perhaps she could help him along his way.

As she took another step towards the tower, she suddenly felt a tug against the back of her dress and she felt as if she was being pulled back from the Shadow World.

Suddenly everything went black around her.


The day had been long.

Yet the day had been won for men.

But in the end there had been losses. Denethor had died at his own hand – thanks to the madness that had taken over him that he had masked as grief. King Théoden had been lost in a battle against the Witch King.

Yet in the end, for every loss there were also gains. Faramir had been saved by Pippin from his father's madness. Éowyn and Merry had defeated the Witch King. And the Army of the Dead had been released from their burdens with Aragorn holding their oaths fulfilled for helping in the fight against the army of Mordor.

Over all, the biggest gain of all came for the Kingdom of Gondor.

Their king had returned.


'Aria…'

She moaned slightly as she pushed herself up off the cool tile floor. She squinted as she was surrounded by bright white light. "Did I die again?" she asked aloud to herself as she stood up.

"Far from it," a voice replied from behind her.

She turned around and was face to face with Manwë himself. She quickly bowed and turned away from the Valar. She could not look at him. She knew that she had failed her task that he had set her upon. He chuckled slightly.

"You did not fail me young one," he said tilting her chin up to face him. "In fact, you have inspired all those who you whispered to while you were in the Shadow World. Courage and bravery can help defeat Sauron as well."

"Then why have you brought me here?"

"I want to give you something to take back to Middle Earth. Olórin will know what it is. This is to show that that Valar have not forsaken the men and elves."

Manwë took ahold of Aria's hand as a green gem appeared in it. It was set in an eagle shaped brooch. It reminded Aria of the Evenstar that Arwen had given Aragorn, but this seemed much different.

"This is the Elessar," Manwë said. "It belongs to the rightful ruler of Gondor. Make sure that he gets it."

"I will," Aria said with a smile. "But I have a question or two before I go."

"What is that young one?"

"How did I get pulled into the Shadow World?"

"It is all in your mind – dreams. As much as Irmo did not want to do so, he helped with this. We knew that if we did not then Sauron would."

"Are my children going to be ok when this is over?" she then asked placing her hands gently on her stomach.

The King of the Valar moved towards her and gently placed his hands over hers. "Your twins will both grow up strong and blessed. And yes, your son's fëa was reborn. It was the right thing to do after Saruman's treachery."

Tears weld up in the corners of her eyes as she smiled.

"Is there anything else?"

"Is my task complete?" she finally asked.

"As long evil is in the hearts of men in Arda your task will never be complete. Now its time for you to go back. There is someone waiting for you…"

Aria felt her eyes grow heavy as she felt warmth surround her. In her hand, she tightly clutched the Elessar that Manwë had given her. As the warmth surrounded her and began to build in strength, she could feel a gentle stroke along the side of her face, followed by a gentle kiss to her cheek. "Aria, please meleth nin. Open your eyes for me," a familiar voice whispered.

Legolas. That's who was waiting for her.

She slowly opened her eyes to find her husband's piercing blues watching her attentively. She smiled at him as she brought up her hand to trace the side of his face. "I have missed you."

"As have I," he said leaning over and kissing her deeply on the lips.

After their kiss, he helped her sit up in bed. "What is this?" he asked, finding the Elessar lying on the comforter next to Aria.

"It is a long story," she said as she picked up the brooch and held it in her lap. "But how long have you been here?"

"Several hours. It is early into the next day," Legolas said motioning towards the window. It was dark outside. "Tauriel and Haldir explained to me what happened to you. After a while of sitting next to you and just holding your hand, you began to move. That was when I began to talk to you more."

"That was what Manwë meant by someone was waiting for me," she said with a smile on her face.

"Manwë?"

She nodded. "That was who gave me this," she said holding up the brooch. "It is for Aragorn. Gandalf is supposed to know what it is…"

She went on to explain to him about being in the Shadow World and talking to all her friends. He told her that he had felt her presence at the time when she had talked to him.

"I am just glad that you and the twins are safe," he said placing a hand on her growing baby bump.

"As am I," she said leaning forward and kissing her husband deeply.

They both knew that this was just a brief pause in the final battle against Sauron. Plans were still being made for a final assault against Mordor. Yet for now all that could wait.


AN: Sorry – I mean to update sooner, but life gets in the way…

Anyways, for those of you who are looking for something new and different to read, then why not check out my Kuroshitsuji/Black Butler story 'Heaven and Hell' or my BRAND NEW Shingeki no Kyojin/Attack on Titan story, "Reluctant Memories' – I would very much appreciate it. They are not getting any love at all, while Reflections Remixed does…

And on that note, here's another plug: check out SleepyHollow5's fic, 'A Road Less Traveled' – it's totally awesome!

As always, let me know what ya'll thought about this chapter!

Elvish Meanings: Ónen i-Estel Edain. (I gave hope to the Dúnedain) / Ú-chebin Estel anim. (I have kept no hope for myself.)