I am back ! So so sorry for the huge delay, but I have been kinda overworked these past weeks and couldn't find any time to write...I hope you'll like the chapter, because I really enjoyed writing it. It is a bit more poetic than the others, I think.

As usual, requests or ideas are always welcome and thank you so much for all the feedback !

Aragorn could not restrain back a tear at the desolated landscape that laid in front of him. They had won the battle, but what had it cost ? Haldir, Rúmil and many other Lothlórien Elves had joined the Halls of Mandos, and a great, too great number of Rohirrim had perished. Soldiers and simple citizens. Men, women, even children... At least, their sacrifice had not been useless, for thanks to their courage and loyalty, the Enemy had not broke through the walls of Edoras.

Only the sight of Éomer holding tightly his slowly awakening sister in his arms had been able to bring a semblance of smile on the man's lips.

Soon, the heart-tearing melody of an Elven lament reached the Ranger's ears.

A Quendima !

Manan elyë etevannë

Nórië i malanelyë ?

The Elves were mourning their friends, their Captain, who had all fought until death, renouncing selflessly to the eternal peace of the Undying Lands.

Egladhrim, Golodhrim ! A bain Edhil !

Ú-reniathach i amar galen

I reniad lín ne môr, nuithannen.

Aragorn turned around, not quite surprised to see Legolas had joined the singing, kneeling beside the limps forms of two golden haired brothers. What did surprise him, however, was the red haired dwarf that stood close to his friend, eyes closed in contemplation.

In gwidh ristennin, i fae narchannen

I Yrch ed ardhon gwannen

Calad veleg, ethuiannen.

Aragorn remained standing, unmoving. He did not have the strengths to join his two friends. The weight of guilt was too great in him, so he simply stared, silent tears streaming down his face. He had failed. He had failed his friends, he had betrayed them. They hadn't been to late to save Edoras, but they had been too late for them... And Aragorn could not stop thinking that it was his fault... How was he supposed to take care of an entire people if he was not able to take care of his own friends ?

Melmë nóren sina

Núra ala Eäro nur

Ilfirin nairelma

Slowly, a whisper, at first soft but growing in intensity every second, began to reach the Ranger's grieving mind. I was a word... No, two words, repeated over and over again by the still standing Rohirrim :

"King Théoden..."

The Dúnedain turned his head to where the sound had first come from.

There stood King Théoden, strongly supported by two powerful Rohirrim. He had put an armour on and blood was slowly dripping from the side of his head and upper leg.

"Uncle !" cried both Éomer and Éowyn, hurrying to embrace the older man tightly.

"Oh dearests, I am so sorry..." answered he, shakingly.

'Looks like King Théoden is back.'

Ilfirin nairelma

Ullumë nucuvalmë

Nauva i nauva.

Gimli could not hold back a small breath of relief at the sight of Boromir, still lying on his couch, but eyes now fully open and aware.

"What happened out here ?" asked the red haired man hastily as soon as the trio entered.

"Orcs attempted to break through the city walls," answered Gimli, gently patting the man's shoulder.

"And... I assume they did not succeed ?"

Gimli shook his head, putting a reassuring smile on his face to hide his own concern. The Elf and Aragorn had been unusually quiet since the end of the fight...

"No, they have not. How're you feeling, lad ?" asked the dwarf.

"Surprisingly well. It seems that the mysterious disease that had been ailing me simply vanished," the man answered almost cheerfully, which contrasted a lot with the true gravity of the situation. A situation he did not know about and that he would have to be told, eventually...

"We're glad to here that," Gimli answered for his still very silent companions.

"Why are the Elves here ?" Boromir asked, pointing with his chin the place where the injured Elves had been laid, "And why aren't you tended to ?" added he with a reproachful gaze to the three very wounded, limping, tired companions.

"The Elves came here to help," said the dwarf, unsuccessfully attempting to avoid the man's second question.

"There were two questions..."

Gimli sighed and turned to his other companions, a pleading look on his face. Legolas simply shook his head, indicating they were not ready to speak, yet, which increased even more the worry in the dwarf's mind. He knew very well that to keep his mind locked this way did nothing good, but now did not seem like the right time to start an argument about this.

"We... There are people that need attention more than we do..." answered he, eyes still fixed on his two other companions, apparently much more affected by the events than he was, which was not much surprising. Oh, Gimli was affected by what had happened too, deeply, but he did not have such a strong relationship with the Elves that had very sadly died... Nor did he have the same pressure and responsibility Aragorn had to bear on his shoulders.

"And where is my dear brother hiding ? Too occupied to charm Lady Éowyn to come and visit me ?" Boromir eventually asked the so unwanted question... But this... This was not the worst... The worst was how cheerful and playful he sounded...

The trio lowered their heads...

"Wait... Where is he ? Where is Faramir ?"

By the time he was told everything, Boromir had paled considerably. His entire body began to shake and small tears were streaming down his face.

"N-Nay... Nay nay nay nay..." was all he could manage to get past his trembling lips. He felt as if his mind was falling apart... He could not think about anything other than 'Gone'. Faramir was gone. His little brother, gone. The dearest person he had ever had in his life, gone... His little one...

He couldn't or did not want to hear what was happening around him. Nothing. Not even the sound of broken glass nor the small yelp Éowyn made from the couch she was sitting on. He did not hear her sobs, her older brother's comforting words, nor the sudden silence that filled the Healing Wards.

Then, all of a sudden, the blank in his mind was replaced with an unconditional rage.

"We have to go to Minas Morgul ! This is where they took him ! We have to get him back !"

"Boromir..." Aragorn interfered, putting a hand on the man's still strong shoulder to restrain him back, "Boromir, you know we cannot..."

"BUT THEY HAVE TO PAY !" the Gondorian yelled out before falling back on his bed and bursting out into tears.

"Oh, Faramir..."

"I'm so sorry Boromir... It's my fault... I have failed him, I have betrayed your trust..." Aragorn vegan, finally letting out a part of the guilt he had been accumulating since this had happened.

"No, Estel," Legolas interrupted, "It is our fault, we failed him. Not just you."

"We failed him, and now, let's go rescue him !" Gimli concluded in a falsely light tone.

"How ? We cannot do this, Gimli..."

"Aren't you the one whose elvish name means hope ? Come on Aragorn ! We will find a way ! There is no other choice !"

It all began with a strong sensation of being suddenly punched in the chest, knocking the breath out of him. Legolas could not help but groan slightly at the sudden wave of pain that crossed his body.

"Legolas ?" Aragorn and Gimli's worried voices reached his mind, but he did not have the breath to answer.

"Mellon-nîn, are you injured ?"

And then, he heard... Her voice... In his mind...

'Díheno nin, Meleth-nîn...'

"Û..." he barely whispered, involuntarily leaning against the Ward's wooden wall.

"What is it, lad ? Talk to us !" Gimli asked worriedly, strongly grabbing the Elf's wrist.

"Iaurië lantar lassi súrinen..." [Golden leaves fall into the wind...]

Thranduil carefully bent down over the white, bloodied face of the Elleth, lying on the fallen leaves covering the ground. How foolish had she been, to hope she could have stood against a Nazgûl ?

The Elvenking gently placed a hand on her chest, feeling quite relieved to feel its slow rise and fall. She moaned. Fortunately, she had been one of the first to fall, but her injuries weren't the worst ones (considering the fact that the worst injury they had seen so far would be three Morgul blade's wounds in the chest...).

Still, Thranduil was most thankful for this, for he knew all too well that his son, Legolas, would not have been able to bear another loss... It would have broken his heart... And if the King had had to face the loss of his only child... His little Greenleaf... It would have surely been the death of him...

Thranduil hastily brushed sparkling tears out of his face. He could not afford being seen this way.

Hopefully, none of this had happened. The Elves from Taur-nu-Fuin had arrived after the battle against the Nazgûls had begun, but they had not been too late. The Nazgûl had not been easy to defeat, but, once again, the Enemy had underestimated the Elves' fighting skills, and, more importantly, their loyalty to each other... Of course the Elvenking had come to help ! Lothlórien could not be lost at the hands of the Enemy !

The King was interrupted in his thoughts by the arrival of two Elves carrying a hastily made stretcher, closely followed by a third one

"Dihenal nin, Aran-nîn," [Forgive me, my King] spoke he. The Elvenking lifted his head while the two other Elves gently lifted Sellenya on the stretcher.

"Listo," [Please] answered he, getting up and rapidly gaining back his usual kingly pride and reserve, slowly nodding for the Ellon to continue.

"Aran-nîn, Hír Celeborn aníra peded na le," [My King, Lord Celeborn wishes to speak with you.]

Thranduil bowed his head in acknowledgement, before following the Elf up into the trees.

Faramir cried when the Witch King attempted to break into his mind once more. He resisted, again, but Valar knew how many blows like this he could still take...

Finally, the Nazgûl backed of with an abominable cry of frustration. Faramir breathed out deeply and lowered his head in exhaustion.

"You won't... break me..." he managed to say when it was over.

"We will see..." the cursed being answered in a slow and dark voice, "We want... What you saw... What you see... And what you are about to see... You cannot resist... Lord Sauron saw... Your plan of attack against Isengard... You did not resist him... You will give us... The way to win this war..."

The Witch King laughed evilly, observing how Faramir's face discomposed itself at the news...

"Your mind... Is weak... Man... Soon... It will break... And victory will be ours !"

With that, the Witch King came closer again to the young man and prepared itself for another hit.

'Please... No...'

Lament Translation (I used Gandalf's lament and modified it a bit) :

Oh fair Elves !

what drove you to leave

land which you loved ?

Sindar, Noldor, O Fair Elves

No more you will wander the world green

Your journey in darkness stopped.

The bonds cut, the spirit broken

Orcs have left this World

Great light has gone out.

Our love for this land

Is deeper than the deeps

Of the sea.

Our regret is undying

Yet we will cast all away

Rather than submit.

What should be shall be.

Hope you liked the chapter ! From now on, I think I will update only once a week, probably on Saturdays, because school is really taking... Hope you're okay with this !