A/N: Hi everyone! Sorry to be away for so long, but I wanted to get this as right as possible. I think I have everything I want in this chapter, and I think you will both enjoy it and hate me afterward (probably). We'll see! There is character death in this chapter, big time, hence why you will hate me afterward. With that said, I am writing this with the knowledge that I have no idea where men go after death in Tolkien's world, so I am kinda making this up as I go. I am hoping that it is as accurate as possible. If anyone has a serious problem with it, please message me with how you think I should write it and I will do a re-write if I can. A lot of what I wrote regarding death is made up since I'm not sure about what the facts regarding the death of men in this world are. But I hope you enjoy it either way!

And now….without further ado….here is chapter 22, where our heroes fight the evil foe and win (kind of). I hope you like it, and please let me know what you think. I aim to please! Please read, review, and enjoy! The next chapter should be out soon (my definition of soon, like two months, not yours I'm afraid. But I am working on fixing that definition).

It had been a little over a month since the troop had left Aldburg. Farewells were always the hardest, as Elrond and Cendar had said good-bye to Tordag while Arwen, Edhelvain, and Galadriel said good-bye to Eafled. The two young ones had wanted to come along and see this finished, but everyone had agreed they should not be there.

This battle would be brutal and difficult, the last thing anyone wanted to worry about was what the two of them were up to when no one was watching.

Tordag had promised to keep in touch, and so had Eafled, and since their uncle was going with the troop, he would let them know how their friends fared after the battle.

Now the troop, accompanied by Eorl and over twenty Riders that could be spared, were at the fortress. They had crossed the Anduin and traveled east through North Ithilien, following Elrond until they came to the fortress of Bregoleth. She only raised an eyebrow, she had thought Elrond was kidding when he said he knew where it was. Apparently, he wasn't. There was not much to see, it was a large, dark-looking castle that had many levels and towers and balconies.

An overall depressing sight, to say nothing of the bleak air and darkness that seemed to hang over the place. This place fed off the suffering of others and the darkness in the heart.

The troop made camp just out of sight of the fortress guards, using the natural formation of the nearby mountains to hide. The element of surprise was their greatest asset.

At least, they thought it was until the second night they were there. They were trying to find the best way in, as the only way in was a narrow bridge and road that was fully exposed. Archers on the high walls would pick them off like the easy targets they were if they did not think of a better plan.

As the leaders of the individual groups were attempting to strategize in a large tent, one of the camp guards ran up to Tauriel and whispered something in her ear. She immediately gave the guard instructions before disappearing into the tent while the guard went back the way he had come.

Entering the tent, Tauriel immediately became the center of attention, unknowingly ending a stalemate between Thranduil and Cirion. Every head turned to her and she said, "Uhhh...there are two riders in camp, my lords, my ladies, that have just arrived."

"And what does that have to with anything?" Thranduil asked as he turned to his captain.

Tauriel replied, "The riders come from the fortress, my lord."

There was silence for a few moments, then Thranduil said, "Show them in here at once, captain."

"Yes, my lord," Tauriel replied with a bow before she turned and left the tent, coming back a few moments later with a young man and an older woman. The man was assisting the woman, who could not walk very well. One of the twins, Elrohir, immediately went to find her a chair or a stool to sit on. As he did so Elrond asked, "Who are you?"

The woman replied, "My name is Mariam, and this is my son Conner," the man, barely out of being a boy, nodded a greeting while Mariam continued, "We were prisoners in that fortress."

"And you have just now escaped?" Galdor asked dubiously, not believing that they had just walked out of the fortress under their own power.

Mariam smiled, "You try having bones as old as mine, master elf. You cannot go very far, and my son and I don't know the area. I wouldn't know where to go. We decided that here was a better place to be than wandering in circles until we starved."

"I see," Galdor said skeptically, just as Elrohir returned with a stool.

"Here you are, my lady," he said quietly, "Have a seat."

"Oh thank you," Mariam said with a relieved smile as she sat down carefully, "My joints aren't up for riding these days. And please, call me Mariam. I'm no lady, and have never had a title of any kind."

"As you wish...Mariam," Elrohir said with a smile as he left to get her a cup of tea, returning a few moments later with a warm cup and giving it to her. She took a sip and sighed as it warmed her from the inside out, and Elrond glanced at his son, which he returned with a nod. He had put a few mild painkillers in the tea to ease her joints and arthritis, and they would take effect soon.

As he did so Celeborn asked, "Why are you here? It can't just be because we are here?"

Mariam nodded, "That's true, but see, we were sent here, by a man named Sewine," Eorl's head snapped up so fast the bones in his neck cracked a bit. Mariam didn't notice and continued, "He sent us here so that we could show you a way into the fortress; through the stables. There is a secret door there. Tomorrow, at dawn, the guards will not be anywhere near the stables and then a group can sneak in."

There were a few seconds of silence, then Eorl said, "If you don't mind my saying so, this seems too good to be true. Sewine is now an unknown, I do not know where his loyalties lie."

Conner answered, "He said you'd say that when we left and told us to tell you that he still has an old reminder of his younger years to keep himself loyal. And if he wasn't still loyal, he couldn't have done everything he's done over the past few years. He has helped prisoners escape, gave Avorneth a knife when she was forced to fight a warg, and helped us get away. And he told you, through us, when and where to get into the fortress."

Eorl still didn't look convinced, but Elrond stepped in just there, "I believe them," everyone, except Celeborn, turned to him in surprise, but he ignored them as he asked Mariam, "How is Avorneth? Have you seen her recently?"

Mariam frowned before shaking her head, "It hasn't been for lack of trying. No one in the keep knows where she is. The only one who knows is Magron, and he isn't talking. Not even Sewine can scare him into saying anything."

"Magron?" Cirion asked, shocked and unbelieving, "Are you sure about that?"

"Very sure," Conner said darkly, "He sold out a long time ago, and Avorneth is so defiant of him, he won't stop until he breaks her. And no one can find her, so no one can protect her. That's why Sewine stayed behind and sent us: he is looking for her, even as we speak. He decided it would be easier if it was just him searching, as there are over three hundred mercenaries and hunters there now. Bregoleth hired them to protect the place and keep it in her control."

Cirion looked as though he had been punched in the stomach, and Cendar didn't look much better. Elrond only murmured, "So she was telling the truth, for once," before saying more loudly, "Thank you, for everything you have told us, it is a great help. We will take your words into consideration."

Mariam nodded, "It is no trouble. We haven't left that fortress since my husband was taken for the hunts. He died during a hunt, and my son and I were trusted not to go anywhere, especially since I got older and my joints got worse. Conner hasn't seen the outside world in twenty years, and I doubt I have any family left in Bree. But if we can help end this, in any way, then we will definitely try."

Everyone was shocked to hear her words, then Elrond said, "I'm sorry you have had to survive this hell for so long."

"As am I," Cirion said, adding: "When we are finished here, know that you have a place in Minas Tirith if you want."

"Thank you, my lord," Mariam said, rising not as stiffly before as the painkilling herbs took effect, "But for now I think I will settle for a warm meal and a good night's sleep. I'm not as young as I used to be."

"Of course," Galadriel said, "Elrohir will show you to a tent and a meal," nodding at the elf in question. Elrohir nodded and smiled, leading the two humans out of the tent to get them settled for the night. Once they were gone Galdor said softly, "That boy hasn't seen the outside world in twenty years? That is unbelievable."

"I believe it," Elrond said, and Cendar added, "So do I. Bregoleth must have really trusted them if she let them wander the keep without chains."

"And they trust Sewine," Eorl said hesitantly, still doubtful about his friend and captain.

"They have no reason to lie," Círdan said quietly, "And they did not. Your captain is on the right side of all this. Trust him."

Eorl nodded, while Glorfindel said, "Now that we have a way in, we need a plan to get all the warriors inside the fortress. We need a way to not only get the gate open but also take care of the guards stationed there."

There were murmurs of agreement from all there, but before they could begin planning again an elf rushed into the tent, out of breath and in a panic, "My lords...she...the woman..."

"Calm yourself, young one," Celeborn said calmly. The elf nodded and took a deep breath, and then Celeborn asked, "What about the woman?"

"She...she...she escaped, my lord," the elf said quickly, not daring to look up. When he finally dared to he saw that his words had quite literally frozen everyone there.

Then Thranduil said, "Show us," and the young elf led them quickly to the tent where they had put the woman. There was already a crowd gathered there, but they all stepped aside when the lords and ladies approached.

It was a gruesome sight.

Two men lay dead, their throats cut, while another man and an elf were lying on the ground, deep wounds in their abdomens. Healers were tending them, but neither was conscious.

Also lying there was the elven horse that had carried Bregoleth all the way south. He was alive, but had been stabbed multiple times and was also being tended by a healer. His breathing was labored, and they all watched as it slowed and finally stopped, the healer unable to do anything for the horse in his last moments.

"Why did she kill the horse?" Eorl asked in horror, "He did nothing to her."

"She doesn't need a reason to kill, Your Majesty," Elrond said quietly, "She enjoys it too much to not want to do it at every opportunity. And she likely wanted revenge on the horse for not helping her escape. This was the best way, for her."

"And now we won't have the element of surprise," Celeborn said.

"Yes we will," Elrond said, "If we attack when Sewine said to. Bregoleth doesn't know our plan. We can still make this work."

"If you think so, my lord," Glorfindel said doubtfully.

Elrond nodded and Glorfindel sighed before turning to the others there, "I will start getting everyone ready. We will have to wait to mourn the dead."

All nodded and Glorfindel left, while the others stayed a few moments longer to make sure the survivors of Bregoleth's escape would recover. Once assured they left as well, heading back to the tent to finalize plans and discuss strategy and tactics.

Bregoleth smiled to herself as the gates of the keep closed behind her and the horse she had stolen. It wasn't an elven horse, she had made sure of that, and so she had been able to get away when her guards were dying. They had not been expecting that knife she had hidden in her boot, and so she had been able to get away without too much difficulty.

And killing that annoying horse had brought her more pleasure than she cared to admit.

Now it was time to get ready for an attack.

And deal with Goliath as soon as she could. He was a traitor, she was sure of it. There was only one thing that happened to traitors, and she would enjoy doing it.

Deep in the keep, Sewine searched for the she-elf, well aware his time on this Earth would be extremely limited if he was found. The entire keep likely knew he was a traitor, not hat he had ever been loyal to them in the first place. But he knew the danger had increased quite a bit now that Bregoleth had returned. He had seen her come through the gates and knew he needed to find Avorneth and make himself invisible at the same time. If she found him she would kill him so quickly he wouldn't see it coming. He knew how fast she was with a knife.

Which was why he was armed. He wouldn't die without a fight.

And he would die defending Avorneth. Just as soon as he found her. With a determined nod, he continued his search, wandering deeper and deeper into the darkness.

As Sewine searched for Avorneth inside the inky darkness of the keep's dungeons, Dimethor was searching for his son. He wanted to make sure Faelher was ready and focused for this fight.

It could be disastrous if he wasn't.

Eventually, after quite a bit of wandering the camp, he found Faelher on the outskirts sharpening his long knives. His eyes weren't on his task though, they were staring in the direction of the fortress, likely imagining he could see Avorneth through the darkness.

Dimethor was well aware he likely thought he could.

He sat next to his son in silence for several minutes, then said, "We attack at dawn. Are you ready?"

Faelher nodded absently, then finally wrenched his eyes away from the fortress to stare sullenly at his knives. With his long blond hair and light green eyes, he was easily recognizable as his mother's son, who had sailed along with Faelher's sisters. Now it was just father and son in Middle-Earth, and Dimethor was well aware his son's manner was just like his.

He never easily revealed anything to anyone, except Avorneth. For all her easy-going and playful nature, she could be serious and thoughtful when she had to be, and Faelher had always found a willing ear there.

Now that ear was so close, yet so far, and Dimethor was concerned his son may do something rash.

He tried again, "I heard that you asked Lord Celeborn to be part of the group that sneaks into the keep."

Faelher nodded slightly, "He said he wouldn't allow it. He was afraid I wouldn't be focused on anything except finding Avorneth if I went in with the first group," he turned to his father then, desperation in his eyes, "Can't you say anything to him? He listens to you."

Dimethor shook his head, "I'm afraid not, my son. He is not called "the Wise" for nothing, and he knows what it is like when desperation fuels your actions. He and the Lady both know. They are trying to keep you safe."

Faelher had flinched at the subtle mention of Lady Celebrían, but it did not make the waiting any easier. Finally, he said, "I will be careful tomorrow, adar, I promise. But once we can search for her, I will tear that place to pieces looking for her. I won't wait much longer."

Dimethor put a hand on his son's shoulder, "And no one would expect you to. Every elf and man here will help in the search, then I wouldn't be surprised if Gandalf and Lady Galadriel leveled this place. It cannot be allowed to stand any longer."

Faelher glanced at his father before staring straight ahead for many long moments. He sighed suddenly and shut his eyes before opening them and saying, "I can feel the darkness of this place, the lack of hope and joy. How could anyone, especially Avorneth, survive here? She has too much joy in life to be trapped in such a cold place."

"She has hope, Faelher," his father said without hesitation, "She has hope we will come for her. The bits we know from Lord Elrond and others say that she has hope. She is there, waiting and hoping we will come for her. Hope is the most powerful weapon of all, my son, because it is something that can never be killed," he stood then and rested a hand on his son's shoulder for a brief moment, "Don't let the hope die in your heart, my son, otherwise the battle is already lost."

He walked away after that, leaving Faelher to his thoughts and knives, trying to keep the hope he needed alive and strong for the fight tomorrow.

Above him Eärendil glowed faintly, trying to give him the hope he needed.

Dawn came slowly, a red sun appearing quietly over the horizon and revealing an empty campground. The leaders had decided to move the camp during the battle so that it would not be attacked while they were fighting. Those that would not be fighting would take the camp and horses to somewhere else and wait for word the battle was over before returning.

The only ones that stayed close were the healers just so they could begin tending the wounded immediately after the battle was over.

As the camp moved, a small group of elves and men, led by Elrond and Arahad along with Gandalf, slipped up to the wall as they followed Conner. He led them quickly to the portion of the wall in question, and sure enough, it wasn't guarded.

Elrond breathed an inward sigh of relief, glad Mariam's words had been true: "The hidden door won't be guarded at all. That woman is too arrogant to believe any could escape from the keep, and too confident in herself and her men to believe there is another way out. She doesn't know about the door, and wouldn't believe any would use it even if she knew. She is too over-confident for that."

Elrond was more than relieved Mariam spoke the truth, he realized as Conner found the door and carefully pulled it open. He took a quick look inside before saying quietly, "The horses are used to people coming and going at odd hours. They shouldn't give you away."

"Thank you, Conner," Arahad said just as quietly, "Now go back to the camp, carefully."

Conner nodded and immediately left, and then they headed inside. Sure enough, a few of the horses looked their way, especially a coal-black mare that nickered a greeting but was silent otherwise, but other than that none of them made a sound as they stealthily went through the stables. Once at the door that led into the courtyard, they paused, listening carefully before Elrond quietly opened the door a bit.

There was no one guarding the stables just as Sewine had said. And the path to the gates was clear and open to them. Elrond said as much, "The way is clear, let's go. Be careful though, we need to be as silent as possible."

All nodded and they all slipped outside, Elrond quietly closing the door after all were through. He joined them at the wall, watching for guards.

There were no guards anywhere, and Elrond gave the signal. Immediately four elves and two Dúnedain went to the door, pushing it open carefully. The door moved easily and silently on well-oiled hinges, and it seemed like everything was going to plan. The warriors began to pour into the keep, moving as silently as ghosts, when suddenly there was a horn call.

All turned and saw a man outside one of the buildings with a horn in hand.

He had raised the alarm!

Men immediately poured out of the keep and buildings, armed to the teeth. At the doors of the keep stood Bregoleth, who only smiled before disappearing inside. Elrond cursed before yelling, "Attack now! Defend yourselves!"

All that heard immediately drew weapons and prepared to fight. The mercenaries created a line and stood their ground, holding their own fairly well as the elves and Rangers and Riders hit them like a wave. As they fought Elrond looked around during a brief lull, something bothering him. After a few seconds, he realized what it was and looked up, finding what had filled him with warning and dread.

Archers.

They were along the top of the keep walls, getting ready to fire. Elrond immediately yelled at Legolas, who was nearby, "Legolas!" the prince looked at him, "Archers!" Elrond suddenly having to defend himself against a man that was trying to behead him.

Legolas immediately understood and grabbed his bow from his back as he sheathed his knives. He and a few other archers immediately began firing, shooting down the archers one by one while Thranduil yelled, "Take cover!" an instant before arrows were raining down on them.

Everyone immediately scrambled for cover, but some were a second too slow and lay where they had fallen.

At that instant Gandalf yelled, "Watch your eyes!" and all shielded their eyes against the blinding white light that came from his staff. The mercenaries did not though, and so were blinded by the light. As it receded Legolas and the archers under his command climbed up onto the keep walls and killed the remaining archers, taking their places and starting to shoot the mercenaries, who had recovered by now and were fighting again with a vengeance.

The fighting continued, and looking around during a brief moment Arahad saw that all were doing rather well. Buioron was holding his own, as always, none expecting him to be so skilled when he had only one arm and was off-balance. The twin sons of Elrond were fighting side-by-side near their father, who was showing why he was the best sword-fighter in Middle-Earth.

None were getting close to him unless he wanted them to.

"Arahad!" a voice yelled, and he immediately ducked, a sword whistling over where his head had been a moment before. He pivoted, swinging his sword up and slicing the throat of the mercenary that had just tried to kill him. He looked for his savior a moment later and saw that it was Cendar.

The man grinned at him and Arahad raised his sword in salute before continuing with his next fight.

The mercenaries were giving their all and had no intention of yielding anytime soon, and so Elrond called to Círdan fighting nearby: "We need to look at this from a different angle!"

Círdan immediately understood and disengaged from the fight, disappearing and reappearing an instant later with a large group of his elves. They immediately slipped along the outskirts of the battle, nothing more than gray shadows against the gloom of the buildings, until they were behind the men. Círdan gave the signal to attack and the mercenaries soon had even more problems to deal with.

All throughout the battle, Dimethor had kept a close eye on his son, fighting as his partner and making sure he stayed focused. Now though, Lord Elrond had fought his way over to them and called over the din: "I am taking a small group into the keep to look for Bregoleth! You two come with me!"

They both nodded and followed him, joining his sons, Cendar and a few others. Elrond called in Elvish to Glorfindel: "We'll be right back, Glorfindel!"

The golden-haired elf raised his blood-soaked sword in salute before returning to his fight. Elrond and his group skirted the battlefield and walked through a doorway Mariam had said led to the dungeons, but also into the keep itself. The old woman had drawn them a very detailed map of the place before she had retired for the evening. She didn't know exactly where Bregoleth's chambers were or the full layout of the dungeons though, and that was where they needed to go.

Once inside it became quieter almost instantly, and they descended some stairs and at the bottom came to two hallways that went in different directions with stairways again. One led up, to the keep, while the other down, into the dungeons.

Elrond looked between the two before saying, "Avorneth...or Bregoleth."

"Or both," Elladan said, "We could split up."

"Good idea," Cendar said, "Just watch out for Magron, whatever you do. He is smarter than I gave him credit for."

They all nodded, then Faelher said, "I am going for Avorneth."

Dimethor nodded and followed his son, followed by Cendar who said, "Magron will be there, I know it. I'm going to make sure he doesn't hurt anyone ever again."

Elrohir went with them as well as two others from Lothlórien, while his brother and the others went with Elrond, "We will go after Bregoleth then," Elrond said, then speared them all with a glare, "Be vigilant, be careful. There is danger everywhere here."

All nodded before they went their separate ways, while outside the fighting continued, the elves and men slowly gaining the upper hand. But the mercenaries were desperate, and that desperation gave them the energy to keep fighting even with the odds stacked completely against them.

Back at the camp Arwen, Galadriel, Edhelvain, Hithaer, Mariam, and Reineth waited around a campfire for news. About thirty others had stayed behind as well to protect the camp, the horses, and the few wounded that had been injured on the way to the keep.

After only an hour Reineth asked, "How long will it be? They've been gone forever!"

Galadriel smiled slightly, "The hunters are desperate, young one. They will fight until they can't fight anymore."

"Oh," was all Reineth said, then Mariam said, "Battles take a long time for those not fighting them, Reineth. Just stay optimistic, and pray that all come back safely."

Reineth nodded, while her mother said softly, "I will just be glad when this is all over. I can't wait to go back to Minas Tirith with Cendar and have everything be as it was, just a bit more exciting," her hand resting on her stomach lightly.

Everyone smiled and congratulated her on her good news, while Edhelvain said, "I just hope no one gets desperate enough to do something foolish," looking in the direction of the keep and likely praying Idhrenor would be safe and careful.

And Faelher as well.

Galadriel said it best a moment later, "We can only hope and pray that Eru Ilúvatar keeps all safe and well today."

They all nodded, turning back to the fire to wait for news.

Faelher, Dimethor, Cendar, Elrohir, and the two elves from Lothlórien walked down the stairs and immediately entered a labyrinth of tunnels. A labyrinth that hummed with activity as servants and maids and grooms tried to stay away from the fighting. They gave the elves and Ranger absolutely no attention, and so they were left with trying to find Avorneth on their own; a nearly impossible task.

Elrohir said as much: "These dungeons are too elaborate and confusing. If we don't know where we are going we could get lost down here. Cendar," turning to the man, "do you know the way?"

Cendar shook his head, "I'm sorry, my lord. I was always blindfolded. I couldn't even tell you how to get to the cell where I was held."

Elrohir sighed in frustration, but then one of the Lórien elves suggested, "We could just ask someone, my lord."

The other elf turned to him with a raised eyebrow, "Just like that?"

The elf smiled, "I'm sure we could be very convincing."

Elrohir shrugged, "Not a bad idea," before reaching out and grabbing a servant that passed a little too close to them. The man found himself being held against the wall with several angry faces glaring at him, a few of them streaked and spotted with blood.

He gulped; his lady definitely didn't pay him enough for this.

"Wh-what do you want?" he asked nervously.

The elves exchanged slightly amused glances with each other before the one holding him said, "We want to go home and not have to worry about innocent people being hunted for sport. But since that can't happen, we would settle for finding Avorneth. Do you know where she is?" his face only a couple inches away from the man's.

"Who?" he asked fearfully and was awarded the iciest glare he had ever seen. Not even his lady could glare quite like that, and this was even more terrifying.

"The elf that was captured," a blond elf said, somehow looking younger than the other elves there, if possible.

It must have been a trick of the light.

"I don't know," the man said hurriedly, "No one does. The only one who knows is Magron, and no one knows where he is."

The elves looked between each other for a few long moments before the man with them asked, "What about the Rangers that were captured recently? Do you know where they are?"

The servant nodded feverishly, and Elrohir said, "Take us there, now," pulling the man away from the wall and giving him a push.

As this was happening Faelher asked, "What about Avorneth?"

Dimethor asked, "He doesn't know where she is, but maybe those guarding the Rangers do. If nothing else we will have a few more warriors here to help us search."

Faelher nodded unhappily and was silent as the servant led them through many twists and turns, eventually stopping at a corner. He said quietly, "They are in the cell on the left. There should be two guards there."

Elrohir nodded and peeked around the corner, seeing two guards, just as the man said. He nodded at one of the Lórien elves, who took the servant and knocked him out cold. Elrohir said quietly, "Remember...at least one of them alive," as he drew his sword.

They all nodded and rounded the corner quickly, surprising the guards completely. The fight was over in seconds, and in the end, one man was dead on the ground and the other was being held against the wall with a sword at his throat.

As the two Lórien elves searched him for weapons and poison, Elrohir and the others tried the door. Finding it locked, Elrohir said, "Not a word of this to my father or grandparents, understood?" glancing at all of them as he said this.

They all nodded, curious at what was about to happen, and Elrohir sighed before kneeling in front of the door. He took a hooked pin from his hair and inserted it into the lock. After a few seconds, there was a small click, and the door unlocked. He stood and turned to the others, all staring at him in silent surprise and then Dimethor asked, "Carmatan, my lord?"

Elrohir nodded, "He is the best lock picker I know."

Faelher replied, "He is the best lock picker in Arda and Aman my lord. Aulë himself would be jealous."

Elrohir was saved having to reply by one of the Lórien elves exclaiming quietly, "My lord, look what we found!" holding up a set of keys.

All looked at him and then Dimethor said, "A few seconds too late, young one, but appreciated all the same," taking the keys from him as Cendar tried to hide a smile. The elf ducked his head in embarrassment but quickly turned his attention back to the man he had been helping restrain as he tried to make a break for freedom. As the two elves restrained him, Elrohir and the others opened the cell door and walked in, surprising those chained inside. Five Rangers were there, and to say they were shocked would have been an understatement.

"What..? How..?" one of them tried to ask, before he saw Cendar, "Captain! You're alive!"

"Yes, I am, and I'm glad you are too," Cendar said as he took them all in. Dimethor was trying to find the correct keys for the manacles and eventually landed on the correct one. He immediately began unlocking the cuffs, and the Rangers stood one by one.

They all were shocked to see the elves, and Cendar was quick to explain, "Elves from every single realm, as well as Lord Cirion, some of the Dúnedain and their chief Arahad, and Riders of Rohan led by Eorl the Young are here, fighting to end this. We," nodding at the elves with him, "are looking for Avorneth."

One Ranger stepped forward with a scowl on his face, "Magron took her a couple months ago to a new cell. Sewine is looking for her even now. He stopped by today and said he was going to search the level below this one."

"How do we get there?" Faelher asked urgently.

"A left out of this cell, down the hallway, take the second left, then the first right, and then down the stairs," another Ranger said, "Sewine told us just in case we were found before he found Avorneth."

"So, it sounds like we are going down, again," Elrohir said as he handed a knife to one of the Rangers, the others doing the same so that the Rangers were at least armed.

They all nodded and left the cell, stopping only to ask the surviving guard if he knew where Avorneth was. He only smirked before saying, "I hope she isn't afraid of the dark," lunging forward and cutting his own throat on the blade that had been held against it a moment later.

Elrohir shook his head in disgust, "The coward's way out."

All agreed and followed him to the lower level, where they became even more cautious. There were clearly more prisoners here, and therefore more guards. But before they could begin to search, they rounded a corner and came face-to-face with the largest man any of them had ever seen.

He looked at them before saying quietly, "Rescue party?"

Elrohir nodded carefully before replying, "Sewine?"

Sewine nodded, glancing at Cendar and seeing the distrust there. He only said, "If I lead you wrong you can kill me. I doubt I'm leaving this place alive anyways."

Cendar stared at him a moment before slowly nodding. Sewine then turned to Elrohir, "I've searched the cells in this area, but there is another section, guarded too heavily for me to get through alone. I was trying to figure out how to get through when you came. The entire fortress knows I'm a traitor now," he looked the Rangers over then, "You need better defense than those knives, especially against the warriors Bregoleth hires. Follow me."

He led them to a door nearby and opened it, revealing a small armory. The Rangers immediately grabbed swords and belted them on. As they did so Dimethor asked, "How many are guarding the way?" turning to Sewine.

"Fifteen," he said promptly, "Thankfully the warg hasn't been replaced; otherwise it would be an even harder fight."

Dimethor nodded thoughtfully before saying to Elrohir, "We are outnumbered, but not outmatched."

Elrohir nodded, watching as the Rangers reappeared, fully armed and ready, "This shouldn't be too hard," turning to Sewine, "Lead the way."

The man nodded and led them quickly down several hallways and a flight of stairs, eventually stopping at a corner. He nodded in that direction and the elves nodded. Elrohir used hand signals to relay a plan of attack, and then Sewine was slowly glancing around the corner, making sure the guards saw him. They did, and a few tried shooting arrows, but expertly thrown knives ended the archer's attempts.

The fighting began in earnest then, a clash of metal and steel echoing through the silent halls. The guards had numbers on their side and held the line but eventually, an elf was able to slip past to the other side.

He hesitated only a second before running down the hall and disappearing out of sight.

"Faelher! Wait!" his father called after him, desperately trying to go after him but unable to break through. Cendar did though, and called, "I'll follow him, don't worry!" racing after the elf.

Dimethor could only fight on and hope Cendar looked after his son. Looking around briefly revealed that there were still ten guards standing, and they weren't going down without a fight.

Faelher raced down the hallway, following his sense of where Avorneth was. They weren't a completely bonded pair, not like the Lord and Lady, but he could sense where she was if he was close enough.

And desperate enough.

That desperation made him throw caution to the wind and run headlong at top speed into danger, easily defeating the few guards he came across.

Whether he killed them or not he couldn't say.

Eventually, he came to a corner and slowed to a stop. He looked around it carefully and saw three men guarding a door. And on the other side, he sensed Avorneth, in distress and afraid.

'You won't be afraid any longer, my heart,' he thought as he charged the three men, knives drawn and ready. The men were so surprised they had no time to draw their weapons, all three falling to the ground with severe wounds. Faelher found the keys quickly and turned to the door, taking several agonizing minutes to find the correct one and unlock the door. He opened it and stood there a moment, frozen in shock.

Avorneth was there, chained so tightly to the wall she couldn't move very much. She was gagged tightly, unable to make a sound. She looked up when the door opened and stared at the sight of Faelher there, but fear took the place of joy a moment later when he started to enter the cell.

She shook her head and strained against the chains, trying to tell him something. Faelher didn't understand right away, but suddenly his senses screamed a warning and he started to turn to face a new enemy.

It was too late.

Pain blossomed in his back and he fell to the ground, blood pooling from around the knife in his back. Magron smiled then, watching as he coughed up blood, his lung slowly filling with blood, "Looks like I win."

He kicked Faelher in the stomach and laughed as he groaned in pain. He turned to Avorneth then, who was staring at Faelher in agony, straining against the chains and desperate to get to him. Magron smiled again then, seeing the light of defiance slowly die in her eyes, "Looks like I finally broke you, she-elf."

He began to walk towards her then, but before he could get close a voice said firmly, "Stay away from her, traitor."

Magron turned, and there stood Cendar, a bit bloody but altogether healthy once more. Magron's smile widened slightly, "Well look who's here: my old captain, here to see me once again. How's the family?" he asked sarcastically.

Cendar didn't take the bait, "Why'd you do it? Why'd you betray us and Gondor?"

Magron laughed manically, "Why not? You had everything I didn't: a command of your own, the woman I loved, the friendship of the Steward. Why not try to take everything from you? The money wasn't that bad either."

"Is that why you did all this, Magron?" Cendar asked, nodding at Avorneth and Faelher, "Because you couldn't have the love you wanted? Because Hithaer chose me over you?"

Magron looked thoughtful for a moment before saying, "Well...yes. I guess I did do all this because of Hithaer. And you," his face turned ugly then, "I always despised you Cendar. But no more," he drew his sword, "Let's end this, now. There's no one to stop us. Whoever wins, wins."

"Very well," Cendar said, raising his own blade. The fight began, and in the beginning, Magron seemed to have the upper hand. But Cendar had trained with elves and Dúnedain in the past year, and his skills had improved markedly. Seeing this Magron turned to dirty tricks, hoping to sneak past Cendar's defenses.

They clashed and parried, locked blades and disengaged, ducked and struck each other's swords; the strength behind the blows numbing arms and hands.

Avorneth, throughout it all, paid no attention. Her focus was on Faelher, watching as he struggled to keep breathing. He was conscious, but barely, his eyes already unfocused and his breathing was becoming even more labored. She stared at him, unwilling to look away and afraid he would slip away if she looked away.

Cendar and Magron continued to fight, but suddenly Magron was behind Cendar. Cendar tried to turn but was too slow, and then Magron's sword was sticking out of Cendar's breast from behind.

Magron had stabbed him in the back. Cendar sunk to his knees then, unable to fight any longer. He only whispered, "Coward," before falling onto his side.

Magron smiled slightly, "And yet I still win, Cendar. I will always win."

Cendar said nothing, a foot already through death's door, and Magron turned to Avorneth. He drew another knife then and said, "And now I think I will be rid of you, she-elf. A pity we couldn't finish any of our games. They were highly entertaining," walking over to her slowly.

Avorneth did not look up, her attention completely on Faelher.

Faelher could not focus.

The pain was the most intense pain he had ever experienced. It robbed him of the ability to breathe, not that he could anyway. He felt like he was drowning, like he was underwater, and yet he wasn't. It was there and it was so bad, and yet, it was starting to fade away and so was he. His mind was starting to go numb, and so was the rest of his body.

Mandos was calling him home, he could hear that soft voice starting to call louder and louder as more time went on. Every breath was starting to come harder and harder, as well as farther and farther apart.

He was finished and he knew it.

He would never see Avorneth again, never hear her sweet laughter or that wild smile that promised mischief and adventure. He would never try to win a race against her ever again, he would never see the children they had planned on having. He would never be able to see her in the high branches of Lothlórien, her hair slightly tamed by braids that the Lady had coaxed her to do. He would never see the joy she brought to others around her, like when she coaxed a smile out of Lady Arwen so soon after her mother had been taken.

He couldn't even protect her now.

Vaguely he was aware of a fight happening, and he forced what attention he could back to the fight happening near him. Granted, it was only his hearing and some of his vision, but it was enough. It was whom he assumed Magron was against Cendar, the man that had spent so long here. He hadn't really gotten to know the Gondorian, mostly because he was trying to keep himself focused on Avorneth and not go mad with worry about her while they waited for Lord Elrond to tell them where to go.

He was sincerely regretting it now. The man was fighting for his life and Avorneth's, and Faelher couldn't even help him. He tried to move, but the pain was just so intense, every nerve screamed a warning about attempting to stand. The fight continued on, with Magron trying every dirty trick he could think of to get through the older man's defenses.

It wasn't working very well; Cendar had spared and trained for the last year or so with some of the best sword fighters in Middle-Earth. Even Lord Elrond had worked with him a few times; it would take a lot to get past those defenses and come anywhere near him. Only the dirtiest of tricks would be able to get through those defenses: locking their blades and then disengaging so quickly the other lost his balance and then running him through when he moved past trying to regain his balance.

Magron pulled that trick, and it actually worked. The close confines of the cell and the dark lighting worked against Cendar then, and he was unable to stop his forward momentum fast enough to dodge the blow. Magron's blade went through him, just below his breastbone, and he dropped his own sword as the shock registered in his brain. Cendar sank to his knees and then to his side, his strength gone, but he still had enough wind left to whisper, "Coward."

Magron smiled slightly and said, "And yet I still win, Cendar. I will always win."

Cendar already seemed to be through death's door, or at least partway, and then Magron was turning away from him and began walking slowly towards Avorneth, saying as he drew a knife, "And now I think I will be rid of you, she-elf. A pity we couldn't finish any of our games. They were highly entertaining."

Avorneth didn't seem to hear him, but Faelher did and he rallied himself as best he could. He may be answering the call from Mandos today, but he would be damned if he let the love of his life and his world join him on that journey. She still had so much left to see and do, he wouldn't let her come with him just yet. He would still protect her to his dying breath, and he tried to get up, tried to move, tried to do something.

He would not fail her again, he resolved as he slowly and weakly reached for the knife that was still sheathed at his hip. If nothing else, he would fight to his last breath to protect her.

And that, he realized as he pulled the knife free weakly and prepared to drag himself onto his knees, was all he needed to be content with this life.

As this was happening, Elrond and his group were hurrying into the keep, determined to find Bregoleth. After the third wrong turn though Elladan said, "We need to ask for help. We're wandering in circles. Let's...convince...someone to tell us where to go."

"Just ask them?" Idhrenor, who had come along with them, asked.

Elladan shrugged, "We all look like we just bathed in a slaughterhouse. It shouldn't be too hard to convince someone."

Which was true, all of them were covered in quite a bit of blood.

"Let's see what we can find out," his father agreed, and in short order, just like his son downstairs, a servant was being held against the wall by a powerful elven arm and unable to look at the most terrifying glare he had ever encountered.

"Take us to your lady's chambers," was all Elrond said, and the servant nodded numbly. He led them up a flight of stairs, down a hallway, through a door, down another hallway, and up the second flight of stairs. Finally, they came to a set of double doors and the servant pointed at them, still unable to speak.

"Thank you," was all Elrond said, opening one of the doors and disappearing inside, the servant forgotten about. The man only looked at the doors before looking both ways and then racing back the way they had come.

He would not be in the same area as his lady when she learned he had helped the elves. His life wouldn't be worth anything then.

As for the elves, they had completely forgotten about the man as soon as they entered the chambers. Looking around revealed a rather lavish room: thick rugs covered the stone floors, paintings of hunting scenes hung on the walls, and the fireplace was large and grand with a couch and a couple of chairs in front of it. A balcony was visible with drapes hanging in front of it near a large window. There were bookshelves as well, a desk in one corner, and then another door led to the bedchamber itself.

At first, the room seemed empty, and Elrond feared for a moment that Bregoleth had fled. But then one of the drapes near the balcony moved, and he looked closer. Sure enough, Bregoleth was there, her back turned towards then, gazing at the world below her.

She still didn't turn when the elves stepped towards her, but she knew they were there as she said, "I think my employer was right: you are too smart for me. He said you would find a way out if I wasn't careful with everything. And I thought I was. I thought I had planned everything so carefully. I guess I was wrong," she shook her head and seemed to smile, "Never mess with elves. They aren't worth the trouble," she turned then and faced Elrond and the others, looking puzzled, "But there is one thing that still confuses me."

"And that would be what?" Elrond asked, looking at the woman but at the same time looking at the balcony railing. It was only knee-high and instantly caused the father and healer in him to start worrying.

The woman shrugged, "I had to do a lot of research about you when I was hired to hunt you. No one knew I was hired; they all thought it was only because I wanted to hunt an elf. Which I did. Most of that research came from my employer, but the one thing it all said was that you don't like to fight; that you won't risk the lives of your precious warriors. And yet here you are, slaughtering my men, and having your warriors fight," nodding towards the courtyard off to the left side of the balcony where there was still fighting.

Elrond stared at her, "Just because I don't like to fight doesn't mean I cannot. And every single warrior here is here of their own volition; none were forced. None were told they had to do this in exchange for someone else's life."

Bregoleth shrugged, that deranged smile still on her face, and Elrond asked, "Who is your employer?"

Bregoleth shrugged again, still smiling, "Just someone that wanted to make you suffer and die. He wanted you to die, but since I have failed in that, I'm afraid you will never know," she looked over her shoulder a moment before turning back and asking, "What happens now?"

"Now?" Elladan asked, barely able to keep the anger out of his voice, "Now we take you to Minas Tirith to be tried for your crimes."

"Is that all?" the woman asked softly before taking a step back, "Be judged and tried by those fools, condemned like a prisoner?" her gaze hardened suddenly, defiance in every line of her body, "Never."

"You have no choice," Elrond said, starting to take a step forward before stopping, keeping his sword down at his side. He didn't want to spook her, "You can come of your own will or be carried out of here."

"Leave willingly, or be carried to the executioner's ax? Those are my options?" she shook her head, "Even if I decided to do either of those things, my employer would make sure I didn't reach the city alive. Not even you could protect me. So...I think I will take the third option," taking another step, the back of her knees hitting the low railing.

She smiled then, "I'll miss you, Elrond Half-elven. A pity we never got to finish our game, but...oh well. Good luck with my employer; he will be waiting and hiding where you least expect him to be."

With that, the woman turned away. Long hair flying about her head, she took a step forward, climbed up on the railing, then jumped off it. There was a long silence, then a thud down below.

Elrond's brain decided to start working then, and he walked forward slowly, the others following numbly. He pushed the drapes aside and looked down.

There, far below and half lying on a bench in what had once been a garden, was the body of a woman that had caused pain and suffering to who knew how many.

It was finally over.

"Good riddance," an elf behind him said, and Elrond decided to ignore it, unwilling to admit that had been his first thought as well. Instead, he turned away from the balcony and went back inside the room where he stopped suddenly, eyes distant.

Elladan, standing next to him, knew what was happening and waited for his father to come back to himself.

He did suddenly, blinking rapidly several times before saying, "We need to find Avorneth, now! Something's wrong!" turning and racing out of the room.

Elladan was on his heels, as were the others, "More wrong, adar?" he called to his father.

"Yes!" was all his father said, not slowing at all.

His cryptic response filled Elladan with dread and he quickened his pace, as did those following them.

Magron stalked forward slowly, attention only on Avorneth. Her attention was fixated on Faelher, willing him to keep breathing, keep fighting.

Magron smiled widely and raised his knife when suddenly there was a stabbing pain his thigh. He collapsed to his knees, looking down a moment later. An elegant dagger was embedded up to the hilt, and looking up slowly revealed that the elf he had thought dead still had some fight left. He might be dying, but he wouldn't leave without a fight.

The elf collapsed back on the ground, strength gone, and Magron said through gritted teeth, "Too little, too late, elf. I still win," starting to push himself off the ground.

"No," a faint voice said from behind him, "You don't."

An instant later there was a pain in his chest unlike anything Magron had ever known, and he was falling to the ground, unable to understand why and how there was a dagger sticking out of his chest. An instant later he couldn't remember why that was so important, and the darkness creeping on the outskirts of his vision came forward and swallowed him whole, and he knew no more.

The fight in the dungeons was finally over, and the elves and Rangers were taking stock of everything. Sewine lay dead, unable to defend himself against four opponents at once. Looking at him Elrohir couldn't help but feel sorry for the man. He had tried for so long to do the right thing, and it had cost him everything in the end. He might not have done it the right way, but it still was wrong that he had met his end in such a fashion. He deserved better than this.

Dimethor was unwilling to wait any longer, sensing something was wrong, "We need to go, now!"

Elrohir nodded, turning to the Rangers and two remaining elves, "Finish here and then come find us. We shouldn't be too hard to find."

They all nodded, and then Elrohir and Dimethor were running into the darkness of the hallway. They followed a trail of bodies until they came to a door with three very dead humans around it. Elrohir quickly searched them and found a set of two keys on one of them, walking into the cell a moment later only to be frozen in shock.

Dimethor had rushed inside ahead of him and had collapsed on the ground next to his son, who lay still with blood pooling around him.

Cendar lay on the ground as well, mortally wounded but alive. Near him lay another man, and Elrohir could only guess it was Magron. He had been stabbed in the heart, and he was clearly dead.

And there, chained to the wall, was Avorneth. Her hair was badly tangled and her dress stained and filthy. She was staring at Faelher, unable to look away. She yanked against the chains, trying to free herself, and that action spurred Elrohir to move.

He raced to her side and immediately tried both keys on the manacles, at the same time untying the gag from her mouth, saying, "It will be alright Avorneth. We will help him."

She didn't acknowledge his presence at all, attention only for Faelher, and as soon as the chains were opened she was standing and running to her fiance. Dimethor looked up briefly when she collapsed next to him, moving over slightly to make space for her and she said desperately, "Open your eyes, Faelher, please! Please open your eyes!"

Faelher did so, weakly smiling when he saw her, saying, "So beautiful. Just like when we met. Remember..?" voice trailing off softly.

Avorneth nodded, "Yes, I remember. And I want to remember it with you for many long years. So you have to stay with me, understand?"

Faelher smiled slightly, "So...stubborn..."

Elrohir looked away then, unable to watch a moment longer. Movement outside the cell caught his eye, and he looked up just as his father entered the cell, breathing as if he had run the entire way. Elladan was right behind him and looked horrified at what he saw.

Elrond didn't look much better, but he was too well-trained to let his emotions get the better of him right then and there. He checked Cendar, who twitched weakly and opened his eyes, smiling faintly, "Glad you're...okay...afraid..."

Elrond smiled slightly, knowing there was nothing he could do for the man other than keeping him company, "I'm made of tougher stuff than you might think, Cendar. You know that."

The man nodded weakly, then said, eyes fluttering closed, "Tell Reineth...Hithaer..." and that was all. His last breath left his body, and the man was dead.

Elrond smiled sadly, remembering all they had been through together, "I will tell them, Cendar, never fear."

His sons behind him and the warriors outside the cell gave a final salute to such a brave warrior, and then Elrond was standing and walking to Faelher.

There was still one more that needed his help.

As he walked over a messenger came running, "The keep is under our control, my lords. The survivors have surrendered and we search everywhere for prisoners and any that might try to escape now. The lords want you in the courtyard."

"Understood," Elladan said, "Send a healer down here immediately."

"No, Elladan," his father's voice stopped him, and something about his tone made him turn and look at Elrond. His father was looking at the wound in Faelher's back, and it was clear it was not good. Dimethor and Avorneth were trying to keep Faelher awake, but it was not enough.

Faelher was dying, and there was nothing that could be done.

Elrond turned to his sons then, despair in his eyes, and they immediately left the cell, the messenger going with them. The warriors waiting outside knew right away it was not good and stayed silent.

Inside the cell Elrond moved to Avorneth's side, staying silent as she tried to keep her love in the land of the living.

"Stay with me Faelher, please stay with me!" she begged, "We have so much to see and do, Faelher; I won't do it alone! I can't do it alone!"

Faelher smiled faintly, "So...beautiful...just like..." he coughed suddenly and blood welled up in his mouth, "I...love...you...deer chaser," he whispered, breathing coming slower and slower, "Will always...love..." taking one last breath before it flowed out on a sigh, and then the young elf was dead.

"Faelher?" Avorneth whispered fearfully, then more loudly, tears streaming down her cheeks, "Faelher, please! Open your eyes! Faelher, please! Come back!" sobs wracking her body. Next to her Dimethor stared in shock, unable to believe what had just happened.

Elrond placed a gentle hand on her shoulder, tears in his own eyes, whispering to her, "He's gone, Avorneth, he's gone."

Avorneth wailed then, a heartrending cry of pure agony, before she collapsed into Elrond's arms, Elrond holding her close as she wailed her agony to all that could hear. Next to them, Dimethor cried as well, holding his son close and unable to believe his playful, vibrant, and mischievous child was gone. It was too much for him and he held his son close and wept as Avorneth cried.

Outside the cell, all that were gathered there shed tears as well, unable to believe what had just happened.

But Avorneth's cries were all too real, and they had to accept that the warrior that had won her heart was no more. Elladan and Elrohir held each other up, an arm around each other's shoulders as they listened to Avorneth.

"Dimethor is in there too," Elrohir whispered suddenly, and Elladan immediately became sick to his stomach. A father had just watched his son die in that room, and neither could begin to imagine how much pain a father must be in if he had to watch his child die in front of him.

How much pain must Dimethor be in right then?

None wanted to stay to find the answer, but they all knew they had to. They had to stay to carry their dead out of this hell and back out into the sunlight and those that waited above for them.

And so they waited.

Celeborn, alongside Thranduil, Círdan, and Glorfindel, surveyed the battlefield. The few surviving mercenaries had surrendered and were being guarded by the Dúnedain and Gondorian Rangers, as well as a few Riders. Eorl, Cirion, and Arahad were discussing, actually arguing, about what should be done with them.

Healers were moving about the battlefield, tending the wounded and checking for any dead. So far the number of casualties had been small for them, a testament to their warrior's skill. Heledhon and Belegon were directing some of the elven warriors, while Tauriel, Legolas, and Galdor were organizing groups to search the keep for anything of value and prepare to empty it of prisoners and valuables that may be destroyed when the keep was leveled.

"Our warriors seem to have come out no worse for wear," Thranduil observed.

"Indeed," Glorfindel said, "But I will feel better when I know Elrond and his sons are well. They haven't appeared once since they went to find Avorneth and Bregoleth."

"I'm sure they are fine," Círdan said, "They know how to take care of themselves."

"That doesn't ease my worry, my lord," Glorfindel said bluntly, "They are all danger prone and trouble always finds them. But thanks for trying."

Círdan only smiled and said nothing, watching as Gandalf came over just then, "Thank you for that little trick today, Mithrandir. It was a tremendous help."

The wizard only grunted before saying, "I'm reminding Saruman of this little adventure the next he says my fireworks are useless."

They all laughed slightly at that, except for Celeborn. Gandalf noticed his silence and asked, "What is wrong, old friend?"

All turned to Celeborn, who only shook his head before saying, "I don't know, I just know there is something wrong."

Glances were exchanged all around, and then Círdan said, "I sent an elf to search for them with the news the fighting here was finished. He would have found them by now."

Celeborn nodded absently, and there was a silence for a few minutes as they watched as all those that worked in the keep: the maids, servants, grooms, and healers were rounded up in another part of the courtyard. They all came from the dungeons below the keep, likely trying to stay away from the fighting, and with them came the messenger Círdan had sent.

He looked around for a few seconds before seeing the lords and hurrying over. He bowed when he arrived, "The message has been delivered, my lords. They make their way up even now."

"Good," Círdan said, while Glorfindel asked urgently, "How did they all seem? And has Avorneth been found?"

The messenger immediately became hesitant, "Lord Elrond and his sons are fine, my lord, and Avorneth has been found. But..." he trailed off, unable to continue for a moment.

They all knew what that meant, and Thranduil asked, "Who?"

The messenger hesitated again before saying, "The man of Rohan that was here for so long, Sewine."

"Who else, young one?" Círdan asked, hoping it wasn't who he thought it was.

The messenger gulped slightly, "Captain Cendar of Gondor," the lords stared at him in dismay, but the bad news wasn't finished yet, "And Lieutenant Faelher."

Círdan stared at him in shock, while Celeborn looked as though he had been punched in the stomach. The messenger continued, "He found Avorneth, but the man by the name of Magron stabbed him in the back. Captain Cendar came and fought Magron but was mortally wounded as well. But between Faelher and Cendar they were able to kill Magron before he could hurt Avorneth. Magron won't be hurting anyone ever again."

The shock was easily seen and felt by all those gathered around and near the messenger, as those that were nearby had stopped what they were doing to hear the messenger more clearly. Now they all numbly returned to work, trying to understand all that had happened in the dungeons below.

Just then, several things happened at once. Elves began removing the horses from the stables so that they could be used to transport the prisoners and those that had been hunted, including a large, black mare that was causing a bit of trouble. At the exact same time, the group that had gone into the dungeons began to appear, bearing the slain.

First came the Rangers bearing Sewine, and the Riders and Eorl took him to mourn along with their own dead, while the Rangers went to Cirion and their comrades to reunite with them. Next came two elves bearing Cendar, and Cirion and the Rangers stared in dismay for several long moments until they could get over the shock and take him from the elves to mourn him alongside their dead. Two Rangers left for the gardens after speaking with the elves. Magron had been brought up as well, but he was placed in the pile of dead mercenaries that would be buried in a mass grave.

He deserved no more.

And finally, the rest came out of the darkness. The twins came first, then a few others, and finally Dimethor. He carried his son in his arms, and all were heartbroken at the sight of the proud captain so broken.

Elrond came last, helping Avorneth. She was in such a state of shock, she noticed nothing, her eyes staring blankly at Faelher's body as he was lain next to the slain elves by his father, who kneeled next to his son and refused to part with him. Elrond led Avorneth there and she sank to her knees, eyes dim and spirit broken, unable to see anything past her own pain.

At that instant, the black mare broke away from the elves tending her. Ignoring their cries and dodging all attempts to catch her, she trotted over to Avorneth and shoved her nose under Avorneth's arm like a puppy. At first, she didn't notice at all, but then she slowly looked at the mare and whispered, "Nightwind?"

The mare nickered and nuzzled her, trying to help her and comfort her. Avorneth only held her tight and leaned into her warm body, her tears soaking into the mare's gleaming black neck. Nightwind only nickered again and stayed close, refusing to move.

As this was happening, Elrond had walked over to the lords and said quietly, "He died in their arms, slowly and painfully, just as Magron wanted. Not even the consolation he is dead will help."

Gandalf nodded before saying, "We sent a messenger to the camp. They should be arriving any moment now to help with the wounded. Once Eorl and Cirion decide who is getting which prisoners, we can leave. I have had enough of this place," a thought came to him suddenly and he asked, "What about Bregoleth?"

"She jumped from her balcony," Elrond said flatly, "She is dead."

"That explains the two Rangers that went into the gardens a few minutes ago," Thranduil said thoughtfully, "They are making sure she is truly dead."

"I honestly don't care at this point," Elrond said, still watching Avorneth, Dimethor, and the mare, "The price was much too high."

An answer to that was not given, as those from the camp had just arrived. Elrond sighed as he went to Reineth and Hithaer, while Idhrenor went to Edhelvain to tell her about Faelher. Galadriel surveyed the field briefly before finding Celeborn and urging her stallion over to him and the few lords still gathered there. When she arrived she dismounted and asked, "How many?"

Glorfindel answered, "Six from Rivendell, four from the Woodland Realm, three from the Havens, and five from your wood, my lady," she bowed her head in grief, but Glorfindel was not finished yet, "Two Dúnedain were slain, four Riders including Sewine, and six from Gondor. My lady," she looked at him sharply, not liking the grief she could sense in his tone, "Faelher and Captain Cendar are among the slain."

Galadriel stared at him, unable to believe what she had just heard, but the wail of grief from Hithaer was all too real. Turning, she watched as the woman collapsed next to her husband, crying into his chest as those standing nearby looked away, trying to give the woman some privacy in her grief. Reineth was next to her mother, crying into Cirion's shoulder as he held her close.

As this was happening, Edhelvain approached her sister carefully, unable to believe what Idhrenor had told her until she saw it with her own eyes. Kneeling down next to her sister, she was finally forced to believe it when she saw Faelher's still face and the blood that had not been cleaned from him. Looking at Dimethor revealed he was covered in his son's blood, but he didn't seem to care. All his attention was on his son, and nothing could force his attention elsewhere.

Edhelvain turned to her sister, not paying the horse standing there any attention. Her sister looked terrible, dirty and her hair badly tangled and covered in blood as well.

And Edhelvain knew it wasn't hers.

"Avorneth?" she asked quietly, laying a gentle hand on her sister's forearm. Avorneth's other arm was wrapped around the mare's muzzle, holding her close against her chest. The mare only stood there, gentle nickers coming from her every so often, trying to give Avorneth some comfort and support.

At first, nothing happened, but then Avorneth slowly looked at her, not quite believing she was there. After a few agonizing seconds, she whispered, "Edhelvain?"

Edhelvain smiled shakily and nodded, and then Avorneth was falling into her sister's arms, sobbing once more as her grief became too much. Edhelvain held her close, saying nothing and letting her sister cry. There was nothing else she could do.

Near them the mare stood, not letting any lead her away. Her place was here with her friend, and that would not change anytime soon.

She was still needed here.

As her sister's tears began to slow once more, Edhelvain said softly, "Your new friend is certainly loyal," glancing at the mare.

Avorneth nodded numbly, not letting go of her sister, "Nightwind," she murmured, and Edhelvain smiled slightly.

"She is beautiful," was all Edhelvain said, and the conversation stopped for many long minutes.

Galadriel came then, and she kneeled next to Dimethor and placed a hand on his shoulder, "Come with me, captain," she said softly, "Let's get yourself and your son ready to go home," resting that hand on his arm.

Dimethor said nothing at first, but then slowly nodded. Galadriel helped him stand as he was weak in the knees and very shaky, and then reached down and gently picked Faelher up, carrying him easily. Near them, other elves were picking up their dead to bring them out of the keep and begin preparations.

Avorneth stood as well, and Galadriel smiled gently, "Go with your sister, Avorneth. Get yourself and your new horse ready, and then we will honor Faelher and his love for you when we get home. Okay?"

Avorneth stared at her for several minutes before nodding slowly. She followed her sister numbly, the mare following along behind and not letting Avorneth out of her sight. Galadriel only smiled sadly at the sight before walking away with Faelher, knowing what was about to happen.

Next to her Dimethor walked with her, knowing what was about to happen as well.

How he wished there was another choice.

Later in the day, the elves gathered around eighteen individual pyres. It was time to bring the dead home.

And this was the only way.

The Men were guarding the prisoners at the moment, and once the elves were finished they would tend their dead as well.

But now was the time for the elves to mourn.

After many long minutes of silence, an elf carrying a lit torch stepped forward, then another, and another, and another until every pyre had a torchbearer. Together, they let the pyres, one by one, watching as the flames climbed higher and higher.

Those watching were silent, with many trying to hold back tears. Some, like Avorneth, weren't even trying to. Tears were streaming down her face so quickly it was a constant stream, and next to her Dimethor was unable to watch for very long.

Avorneth had washed off years of grime and dirt and untangled and washed her hair, and now wore a clean blouse and riding trousers, along with a pair of boots. Her hair was braided and clean, but nothing could distract from the heartbreak she felt. Her joy in life had drained away, and nothing this side of the Sea could bring it back.

Several hours later the pyres had burned low, nothing but ashes of the dead left behind, and the elves collected them. Dimethor couldn't bear to do it, and so Idhrenor collected Faelher's ashes and gave them to him. Dimethor only held them close and walked away, unable to speak. Avorneth followed him, and none dared to follow.

The next day the sun rose red over the horizon. Like before, the leaders all met one last time before they departed.

Cirion opened the meeting, "We have agreed on what is to be done with the prisoners. I will take the surviving mercenaries and hunters, while Eorl will take the grooms, healers, maids, and servants. The mercenaries and hunters will be tried in Gondor for their crimes, while Eorl will determine the level of involvement of the others and determine from there what the punishment will be."

"And what of the freed prisoners?" Elrond asked, referencing the almost fifty people that had been found in the dungeons. Most were women and a few children; some were of Gondor and Rohan, others were of Harad and Khand.

Eorl replied, "Those of my people will come back with me. The rest will go with Lord Cirion until they are strong enough to go home. Mariam and Conner will go with him."

"Very good," Celeborn said, then added, "The dead hunters and mercenaries have been buried. Everything of importance has been removed from the keep," referencing the books, paintings, and other rare bits of art. The books would go to Rivendell, the rest to Minas Tirith, "The horses are out and all the living have been found. What is to be done with the buildings?"

"Destroy them," Galadriel said immediately, before turning and asking Cirion, "With your permission?"

Cirion was already nodding, "Of course. It cannot be allowed to stand. I don't want anyone else to get any ideas. Whatever means you have at your disposal, my lady, please use them."

Galadriel nodded, and the meeting moved onto other topics regarding travel and rations before it adjourned.

Several of them had important things to do before dawn came again.

Late in the night Galadriel, Elrond, and Gandalf stood outside the keep, staring at the imposing gray walls and towers before Elrond said, "Let's do this. This place will always be a scourge in the world and can't be allowed to stand. It is an unpleasant reminder of what so many have suffered for such a long time."

Galadriel and Gandalf nodded, reaching inside themselves for the power of their Rings. Elrond also reached inside himself for the power of Vilya and felt her respond. Within moments a great rumbling was heard, and then the earth shook and vibrated as the tower and dungeons collapsed and the walls folded in on themselves.

Minutes later it was done, and opening their eyes the three were treated to the sight of a giant pile of rubble where the fortress once stood.

Gandalf said it best: "No one will try to restore that. There isn't a single piece of intact stone left," looking at several nearby piles of dust and broken rock. None of it could be used to build anything ever again.

"Good," was all Galadriel said, walking away. Gandalf followed but then realized Elrond wasn't following. He turned back and asked, "Aren't you coming?"

Galadriel also turned back in time to see Elrond shake his head, "I'll be there in a while. I need a few minutes alone," he said quietly, eyes distant.

Gandalf and Galadriel looked at each other before nodding and walking away, leaving Elrond alone. Once he was sure they were gone he walked away as well, walking for almost an hour. Eventually, he came to a hidden grave covered in Simbelmynë over which stood a proud oak.

He kneeled down in front of it and whispered, "Hello, adar."

He was silent for a few minutes before saying, "I'm sorry that you were so close to such cruelty for so long. I wish I had known and stopped this sooner. But it is done, finally, and it will never happen again," he paused a moment before whispering, "And yet the price has been much too high. I know I shouldn't ask this of you, after all you have done for me and your people, but can you please look after Faelher and the others that have perished here? They will need help and guidance before Mandos decides to release them."

He was silent a bit longer before saying, "I hope I see you again, adar, just as when my brother and I first came to your halls: vibrant and full of life. I don't know when that will be, but I will be glad to see you again. Until we meet again, adar," he said quietly as he rose from the ground.

He turned away then but stopped as he felt the wind pick up. And there, echoing faintly on the breeze, was a familiar laugh of pure mirth and joy.

Elrond smiled when he heard it, before bowing low to the grave and walking away, back to his family and his people that needed him.

Above him, Eärendil stood silent watch over such hallowed ground.

Bregoleth next became aware of darkness all around her. She looked up and it was there. She looked down and it was there on either side of a white path. Looking to each side revealed much of the same. Behind her stood a door, and beyond that she could see a white ship floating in space for some reason and not on the sea, a figure just visible at the helm, watching her with intensity and what might even be hatred in his eyes. He was tall and blond with blue eyes, and something about his eyes and face was familiar, but she couldn't place him. She knew she had never met him before, she would have remembered a glowing white ship and the man at its helm.

At least, she thought he was a man.

She knew she was dead, she knew it with every fiber of her being, and yet it felt as though she was still alive. She still breathed and could smell, and hear, and see, and taste. There just wasn't anything for those senses to work with.

She was so confused that she decided that she wasn't dead, or was she? She couldn't figure it out.

With no other choice, Bregoleth decided to follow the path at her feet. She followed it slowly and cautiously, not sure where it led or where she was going. Finally, after what felt like several hours and probably was, as there was no way to judge time in this place, she seemed to come to the end. She exited the blackness and stepped out into an area that was not what she expected of death.

Men and women and children were there, of many different ages and times. She recognized some of the clothing from books she had read of the First and Second Ages, and she saw that they were all waiting for something. Finally, a few of them, the ones farthest away, were allowed through a door and disappeared. The line moved up, but before Bregoleth could become part of the tide of people, she was grabbed by the arm.

"Let go of me!" she exclaimed in surprise, turning and trying to break away. The hand gripping her held firm, and she struggled for a few moments before deciding to look up at the face of the one that held her.

When she did she almost fainted. She was looking at the one that she had tormented for so long, but there was something different about him. He seemed older and had a beard, and silver hair, but there was no mistaking those piercing silver eyes and those strong shoulders that radiated strength.

"No, it can't be," she said fearfully, "You were still alive! You were! I saw you, at the keep. You can't be here!"

The one holding her smiled grimly, enjoying not only her discomfort but also hating this woman with every fiber of his being, "And yet here I am. But you are right, Bregoleth, I am not Elrond Half-elven," he waited for her to sigh and relax in relief before leaning forward and saying softly, "I am his twin brother, Elros Tar-Minyatur, and now you are at my mercy."

Bregoleth's eyes were in distinct danger of falling out of her head, but Elros wasn't finished yet, "Because of what you have done to my brother and so many that are here, in this place, it has been decreed that you will never know the peace of death. You will suffer, not in the peace granted to those that have led decent lives and been kind to those around them, but in the deepest despairs of the Void. You will be thrown in with the lot of Morgoth and his ilk, with your only constants being them...and me," narrowing his eyes as he leaned closer to her, "Welcome to eternity, Bregoleth daughter of the children of the Witch-King of Angmar, I am looking forward to your company."

"This is impossible," Bregoleth whispered, "How did he know?"

Elros smiled slightly, "My brother? He knows the fate of Men, Bregoleth, and he knows where those that cause suffering go. He also knows that there are a rare few that can travel between the realms of peace and chaos of the dead, and he is likely aware that I am one of those. Even if it were not the case, I would have petitioned any that would have listened for this opportunity. You have tortured and killed many, and now it is time for you to suffer in torment. And I will be a more than willing helper in this task. Welcome to your doom, Bregoleth, it is just getting started. Soon you will beg for death, which is now impossible for you. There is no life after this place, and you will never know the peace of death. You will only know it's suffering and it's pain," he turned away and pulled her to the side, where another door stood.

People were gathered there as well, and Bregoleth was terrified to see that some were those that she had hired over the years that had not met her approval, or had made too many mistakes. None looked at her, and none helped her. She was truly alone here, and when that door opened fire leaped out before receding. The people gathered there walked forward and disappeared into the flames, and it was here that Elros led her. He pulled her through the door and it slammed shut behind them, and it was only then that Elros spoke again, "This is where the hell truly begins for you Bregoleth. None can leave this place without the permission of Eru Ilúvatar, and you will never know the peace of death. You cannot escape from here, just as Morgoth cannot escape. As my brother protects Middle-Earth, my father guards the doors to this place. Never will you be able to leave, or experience the peace of eternity. I will come every day to you and mock you, and my father will watch you every day to ensure your torment is complete. Never will you be free of what you have done to us."

And with that Elros released her arm finally, and Bregoleth had no choice but to walk forward to her own doom, unable to begin to imagine what was in store for her in this place.

She could only imagine it was the beginning of hell.

Back in the relative calm of the morning in Middle-Earth, the groups were departing in two different directions to begin long journeys home.

The men of Gondor, along with Hithaer, Reineth, prisoners and former prisoners, were heading for Minas Tirith, bearing the ashes of their own dead.

Eorl, the Dúnedain, Gandalf, and the elves crossed the Anduin together before parting company after the Onodló became one river again. The elves and Dúnedain would travel together to Lothlórien before splitting company once more after funerals were held for the elves of Lothlórien that had been slain.

With them traveled Avorneth on her midnight black mare, Dimethor next to her, neither speaking or wanting anyone else's company. All respected that desire for privacy, although Edhelvain rode nearby in case her sister needed anything.

But she knew what her sister truly needed was beyond her power to give.

All any could do was be there for her, although Edhelvain had seen Círdan looking their way many times and could only guess what he was thinking. She just hoped it wasn't what she thought it was. She didn't think she could bear the idea of losing her sister so soon after finding her.

Eorl and his Riders left their company rather quickly with the promise to tell Eafled and Tordag all that had happened. None of the elves felt ready to visit Aldburg and were all desperate for home. Eorl understood and said he would pass along their well-wishes and farewells to the youngsters as soon as he returned home.

After the Riders left the elves continued on, following the river to where it would lead home for all, eventually.

What kind of home that was left remained to be seen.

Translations:

adar/ada – father/daddy
Simbelmynë – flowers that grew notably on the grave mounds of the Kings of Rohan
Onodló – Entwash