Thank you realSkyEyes for your sweet review! This chapter is for you 3

XXXV- The Call of the Sea

The initial clash was a nightmare and would not be best remembered. The Army of the Dead had veered left immediately, seeking out arguably the strongest parts of Sauron's army- the battalions that had not yet seen battle on Pelennor Fields.

Screaming, Rohirrim after Rohirrim died in front of the hunters as it had been clear that they would from the start of their charge against the Oliphants. Even with the intervention of Aragorn's companions, the carnage around them was thick, brutal and bloody. Mirren held fast to her long knives, slashing and stabbing at any foul thing that moved near her. Legolas, always at her side, counting his kills faithfully as Gimli and Aragorn worked in equal unison beside them.

As Mirren looked towards the elven Prince, his eyes were obscured by the chaos of battle, but his face was still and open and it seemed that her thinking had carried him with her. Now, in the heart of the storm with the ghosts of the dead walking openly towards their enemies, the both suddenly knew a moment of pain. Shared, it quickly passed as they thought on their hearts peace and how they had come to acknowledge it so late. But they both knew the time they still had was the Valar's gift and they chose to treasure it openly, shifting their weight in battle to protect each other. To become a shield where no one else could stand.

Overhead, several Nazgul circled, their screeches almost wounding as much as their talons as they swooped down upon the forces of men. Cursing under her breath, Mirren could stop for only a small moment as her friends span around her and the elleth surveyed the field of battle.

She saw the realities of her past dreams, the white city burning, crushed and a little torn apart. But the possibility of hope was here also; a chance at success as the green shadow of the Dead Army fought without remorse in support of the city.

Throwing herself into the fight with renewed vigor, the pulse of the battle became her own pulse. With the grace only her people possessed she was a whirl of death once more; carving through Sauron's forces like a wave of light.

"Twenty! Twenty One!"

Mirren moved forward, disarming an orc with ease before dispatching it swiftly. Turning, she suddenly felt the loss of the ellon who had been near her intimately as Aragorn shouted,

"Legolas!" And the ellon moved reluctantly from her side.

Legolas!

She could barely keep her breathing as she stared at him. Quickly he moved forward, clambering nimbly up an Oliphants legs as it charged across the plain.

Still, she could not stop a smile forming on her face as she watched him, and swiftly sheathed her daggers.

Tumbling from the giant creature as it stumbled past her, a bundle of javelins - baring the red marks of Harad loosened from their wrappings and fell at the elleth's feet. Finding a moment within the chaos to kneel, Mirren plucked up two, one in each hand.

She was at the far end of the Mumakil now as its rider steered it wildly around the battle field; Legolas was swinging dangerously from a rope in between its legs.

Wasting little time, she threw the first one and flashed a smile in satisfaction as it pierced the Oliphant's thigh, creating a foothold for the ellon to climb up as he slashed the straps of the rider's saddle, sending their foes crashing to the ground. The second brought down a orc as she span once more, piercing it's head before the creature even saw the weapons shadow. Stiffly, before she could move, it fell awkwardly on-top of her.

Above them all, Legolas finally reached the Mumakil's skull and with little thought fired two arrows into its forehead. The Oliphant slowed, its feet unsteady as it finally dropped to the floor. Jumping before he could fall, the ellon slid down it's trunk towards the safety of the ground.

Nodding, he met Gimli's gaze and shrugged.

"That still only counts as one!" The dwarf protested, fisting his axe tightly before moving towards Aragorn across the plain.

Turning he looked for Mirren and his heart went cold when he could not immediately see the flash of her smile, the song of her blades or the braids of her hair.

It was evident now that they were killing and not merely dying. Yet still, the image of her lifeless body flashed across his mind and for a moment he felt weak.

"Mirren?" He called, expecting to be fooled instantly by a reply, but hearing none as his voice was lost in the clash of the living and dying. Distracted, he was not looking as an orc raised it's long blade behind him.

Suddenly, a sharp pain tore through the ellon and looking down, he briefly saw the flash of a dark blade as the orc pulled it from his side. The metal had ripped a gash in his torso and already he could see blood staining the forest green of his tunic.

Mid-gasp, he managed to throw his dagger into its chest and the orc fell to the ground with a thud.

Stumbling he called out loud again with a little more difficulty, "Mirren?" He pressed heavily against the wound and felt suddenly light headed as the world blurred for a single moment.

Near him, a muffled sound rose from a pile of corpses and he instantly fell to his knees in front of it, pulling a large orc off an elven cloak with one arm, even as his body screamed at him to stop..

"Legolas!" He heard her voice clearly now and twisted his body uncomfortably to remove a second corpse. Bringing another awkward hand over his wound, it came away dark red, almost black.

"Are you alright?" He checked over her as hastily as he could, his voice strained as she sat up from the ground.

"Ye-What happened to you!?" She cried, her voice a little raspy from the weight that had been pressing down on her chest as she stared, horrified at the wound in his side.

"It's nothing." He tried, but the pain of it was spreading further now and he felt his grip on her forearm slipping.

"Legolas!" She gasped, suddenly steadying his body with both arms as he slipped back from her.

He had lost a lot of blood. That much was obvious from the paleness of his skin and the contrast of his stained tunic.

"The blade was poisoned." He told her, grimacing, "I saw it."

Gently, she pushed his hands away from the fresh wound, tears streaming to her eyes when she saw the deep gash ripping through his side.

"Can you walk?" She asked, stumbling to lift herself from her knees.

Grunting, The woodland prince stood once more, making little progress through the puzzle of falling bodies by leaning on Mirren before his breaths started coming in short, painful gasps.

Fire seemed to rip through him. His feet awkwardly stumbled on the leg of a fallen horse and then he was down

Legolas' sharp cry of pain ripped through her and Mirren fell to her knees beside him; panicking at the sight of so much blood.

Quickly, she folded his hands over the wound, applying as much pressure as she could.

Reaching up immediately, the prince wiped a stray tear from the corner of her eye.

"You don't usually cry." He mused.

Mirren shook her head.

"You're not usually wounded."

Legolas tried to laugh, but the sound was more of a sob and he ended up coughing as his breathing faltered. A sharp pain clawed up his side as he moved.

"Don't move, please, don't move, lie down." Legolas' ignored her worries and tried to sit up once more. Regretting his choice, he fell back to the ground with a grunt.

"Aragorn!" She cried, looking for the ranger who had been near them not long ago. Scanning over the battlefield, only death seemed to surround them. The stench of it was horrifying.

"My love-" Legolas winced, lifting a hand to graze her cheek. Even as he looked at her, she could see the dimness of his eyes and it felt like someone had stabbed through her own heart.

Carefully, she pulled him towards her chest, murmuring for him to stay awake as her mind shuffled on what to do.

"Aragorn!" She cried again as she caught sight if the ranger. Her voice was evidently not loud enough though as her friend did not even turn at its call.

Elrohir and Elladan fought beside him; shining beacons in the noon sun. But still, not even their elven ears could hear her shouts. Her voice was lost even as she tried to raising it again and again over the voices of battle.

Thankfully the carnage was fading around them and seemed nearly over. Ahead of them, the green wave of Aragorn's re-enforcements were racing through the levels of the White City, eradicating Sauron's forces as they went.

But she could not see anyone to help her and she did not think she could carry Legolas to a healer on her own… She would not leave him. She knew she could not.

"Stay with me, my love." She spoke, trying to find a strength in her voice as her cool tears splashed weakly on Legolas' tunic.

Nodding, the ellon's eyes drooped a little. But his fingers held hers firmly still despite the slickness of the blood that graced them.

"Stay with me. " She repeated steadily, dipping her head to kiss his forehead. "Help! Aragorn! Gimli! Please!"

"Mirren…"

"No I'm not leaving you." She answered, reading his thoughts clearly even through her tears. "I'm not leaving. I cannot."

The light in his eyes was fading fast and Mirren gripped him closer, fisting her hand in his tunic, willing him not to leave her. He cannot die. She thought. He cannot….Not like this.

Seeing little option, the elleth stiffly wiped her nose.

Not like this.

"Come on…. " She grunted, returning her hands to the wound, "By the grace the valar has given me… let him live… Please!"

She felt empty. They were far from the river now and the coursing power that it had given her mere hours before on the wooden deck of the boat. She felt useless.

"By my father and mother…. Please." She panted, crying still, "Please!"

Legolas' breaths were straggled and he barely had the energy to lick his dry lips beneath her.

Sobbing now, she begged in elvish, "No, Take me, instead. Take me!"

At first, her cries seemed to create no action. Legolas had practically stilled in her arms and she could only hold him as silent sobs wrecked through her body.

"Please."

Then, a voice erupted in her head. It was demanding, but soft. It recited a memory she had all but forgotten…

The power of our ancestors live through you now. As you move on, you will find that you are strong beyond your beliefs.

But what strength was there in her? She thought, hopelessly. Galadriel had been wrong. She could not help Legolas without the power she found in water.

Helplessly, she lowered her head to Legolas' chest, her heart seizing at the small movements and labored breaths of her beloved. Something cool touched her forehead and she recoiled sharply.

Her mothers brooch.

Legolas was wearing it now as he had since the Fellowships stay in Lothlorien. Things had been spoken then, under the Mallorn trees, but not enough realised.

Regretting her past indecisions she rested her palm across it, only to find the moon and wave brooch was not only cold, but icy to the touch.

The power of our ancestors... you are strong beyond your beliefs….

Almost instinctively, what she had to do suddenly became to clear to her and an almost hopeless laugh stumbled out of her lips.

"In sorry…" she whispered, kissing Legolas for one last time. "I did not see it before."

Carefully, she removed the brooch and clasped it with both hands.

In her heart she recalled the horn of Cirdan, her fathers gift. The ache of his absence hit her strangely in her chest, like a horse kick that sucked the breathe from her body. The brooch warmed but it was not enough. She thought of Aragorn, Estel, her friend, her brother; her King. He was fighting now for everything they believed in.

She thought of Legolas, the curve of his smile, they way he loved her …the warmth of his eyes; the paths of his mind which he could lay so clearly out for her to follow. Oh, she would follow him wherever his feet would fall if she could.

Lastly, as the brooch became almost too hot, burning at her hands, meeting the throb of her palm; she thought of her mother.

She didn't have any strong memories. Only feelings; of love, of happiness, of laughter…of loss. Everything that formed a life worth living…full of meaning… full of love and pain.

The call of Cirdan's horn returned to her. She could not tell if others heard it too- but it was loud and echoed around her. Mirren closed her eyes and focussed on that echoing sound of light and love. The call of the sea, she thought. And the familiar stretch of power pulled in her fingertips. Her old arrow wound throbbed and she released the brooch.

Her eyes bright silver, flashed with the wild power and light of water for a moment- and then darkness came.

…And the Daughter of the Sea collapsed next to the man she loved.

The battle was over. Aragorn stood for a moment, sweating as the noon sun beat down upon him. Gimli, Elladan and Elrohir were beside him; grim smiles on their faces to mark both their victory and their losses.

They had paid for the defense of the city with many lives, but now the Army of the Dead stood before him; wishing to depart in peace, their oaths fulfilled.

"Release us!" The King of the Dead commanded.

"Bad idea!" Gimli huffed next to him, "Very handy in a tight spot these lads…despite the fact they're dead!"

"You gave us your word!" The King snapped in response to Gimli, looking towards Aragorn for confirmation.

The Ex-ranger simply nodded, "I hold your oaths fullfilled. Go…Be at peace.

King of the Dead smiled. A great wind rushed across the battlefield and the army of the dead disappeared.

Looking around, the fields of Pelennor were eerily silent.

After their time apart, the white wizard and the hobbit Pippin approached the new King slowly, bowing before he met their old friends gaze.

But before anything meaningful could be said between them, a great sound washed like a wave over the battlefield. Aragorn felt it pull at his core and could not help himself from stepping back. Pippin clasped his hands over his ears, shocked not at the sweetness of its sound, but the power of it.

For many moments it did not faulter and it rattled even the corners of the wizards heart, who looked up and then towards the Anduin with worried eyes.

"Where is Mirren?" The wizard asked, even as the sound echoed in his head.

Aragorn looked around to find that both the elves were missing.

"Legolas!" He breathed, lurching forward to follow Gimli as the dwarf gave a great cry and started rushing away from the white city, once more into the centre of the battlefield.

It would have been difficult to find them, Aragorn thought, but for the great circle of corpses around them as if a great force had pushed them away from the couple. The ranger held Gimli back from breaking the circle; looking to Gandalf with worried eyes as they all beheld their fallen friends.

"Oh.." Mithrandir sighed, slowly stepping towards them. Carefully, he knelt by Mirren who lay awkwardly on her back, her hands spread beside her, gripping the brooch they had all noticed she had given to Legolas as a sign of her love.

Her eyes were closed, and Aragorn could not tell if she was breathing.

Legolas beside her was less pale, his cheeks flushed and warm.

Gandalf passed a hand over his head and his eyes fluttered open for a moment before falling shut. Gimli sighed in relief, leaning on his axe.

'They're both alive!" Gandalf spoke happily, although his eyebrows were creased into a frown. "But….Great magic has been at work here, we must get them to the Houses of Healing."

Aragorn nodded, entering the circle swiftly to pick up the elleth. Elladan and Elrohir were close behind him, stooping to lift Legolas.

Gimli followed them hastily, despairing at the state of his friends as they entered the White City.

A/N: OOOOhhhhhh! What is going to happen next?