A/N 12-15-03:  The end of this chapter has been moved to Ch. 22 in order to comply with the new requirements that all chapters contain story content.  This allows me to comply with the changes without losing reviews.  Sorry for the inconvenience.

A/N: notes and acknowledgements follow in the next chapter. GreyLadyBast, I've fixed that quote (Today is a good day to die). I just misremembered it. I see your points, but I am not going to go back, mainly for time considerations. My defense of the Black Breath issue is that Worf attacked from a distance, while the other two attacked directly. I know it's a weak excuse, but it's what I have. Your thoughts about having Worf succumb and then leaving him in Minas Tirith would work very nicely, but once you read this chapter you'll see why I don't want to do that.


Ch. 21: To the Gates of Mordor

With that signal, horns blew and Sauron sprang his trap. The doors of Morannon swung wise, and out of them came a battle host like a river. The captains of the West quickly retreated back to the army, but the enemy attacked from all sides. Aragorn and Gandalf took position on one hill, and Éomer and Imrahil on another, the Dúnedain and the sons of Elrond taking the front facing the Black Gate and Mordor where the battle would be fiercest.

Along with Orcs, there were Easterling men, and a company of hill-trolls, taller and broader than men. Worf took one, surprising the thing by meeting its force with strength no less than its own. He blocked the first attack with his bat'leth, then broke away from the thing and spun, slicing the weapon across the troll's belly, then spinning again to remove its head. He had to leap back away from it when the carcass fell forward, spewing black blood. Éomer, beside him, stared at him in awe for a moment, before turning to a new opponent. "There is strength in you beyond the grasp of my mind, Worf. I do not know from whence you get your strength, but I am glad to have you at my side!" Pippin took down another troll as it bent down to bite the neck of a fallen warrior. He struck upwards, piercing into its vitals, but it fell on top of him, smothering him, and he fainted to cries of "The Eagles are coming!" ¹ Before they could arrive, though, another troll attacked Éomer. This one was even bigger than the one that Worf had killed. The thing would kill him if no one intervene. Worf grabbed his remaining dagger and threw it before rushing at the troll. It saw him coming and was ready. He blocked the first blow, and the second, and a third, but his strength was waning. The fourth stroke of the thing's weapon cut through Worf's belly just as his bat'leth removed the troll's head.
The Eagles swooped toward the Nazgûl, but the Black Riders suddenly turned and fled. All the hosts of Mordor trembled in that moment, and the army of the West soon gained the upper hand. Gandalf held them back and would not allow them to pursue. He cried, "Stand, Men of the West! Stand and wait! This is the hour of doom."²
As Gandalf spoke, the earth below them bucked like a wild horse. Far away beyond the black gate, a darkness came into the sky, and fire. The Black Gate fell to the ground, and a drumming rumble filled the air. A great, enormous shadow rose above the Land of Mordor. It stretched out a terrible hand toward them, but a great wind took it and blew it away.