A/N: I had been thinking that no one had reviewed chapter 12 until I read the note on the ff.net home page about a problem with review notifications.  Still, I was a little surprised not to get any more response for the last chapter.  I think this chapter will get your attention.  This chapter is rather dark, but it is 13 of 21 chapters, and there is a lot of story to come.

Chapter 13

Some of the text in this chapter is quoted from Return of the King, pp. 251-252.

            The host of Mordor poured out of the Black Gate as the riders scrambled back to the rest of the army.  Aragorn took one hill with Gandalf and Imrahil and Éomer took the other.  Elewen found herself in the forefront with Legolas, Gimli, and the Dúnedain.  Orcs and Men were not their only enemies.  Along with those foes marched hill trolls, huge and reckless.

            The Orcs crashed against them like waves on a ship.  No matter how many they slew, there were always more to take their place.  The carcasses were piled deep around them when a cry went up, "The Eagles are coming!  The Eagles are coming!"

            The Nazgûl fled as the Eagles approached, but it was not for fear of the Eagles.  Sauron's eye had fallen on the two small Hobbits on Mount Doom.  Even as they fled and the earth began to rock, Gandalf cried, "Stand, Men of the West!  Stand and wait!  This is the hour of doom."

            The enemy began to flee, and Elewen turned her attention to the sky, looking at the Eagles.  She knew what was happening—the Hobbits had reached Mount Doom and were on the verge of destroying the Ring.  The fate of Middle Earth rested not only on them reaching the mountain in time to destroy it, but also their will power and ability to throw it in.

            The Ring might have been the downfall of the Hobbits if not for Gollum, but a moment's distraction was Elewen's downfall.  While its comrades were fleeing, one little goblin decided to take revenge for his lord's defeat.  Taking advantage of Elewen's distraction, it slipped its sword up under her short mail shirt into her stomach.  The goblin pulled the sword out to attack again, but an axe cut off its head before it could attack.

            Gimli was closest to Elewen, and he saw her drop to her knees.  He chopped off the goblin's head then kicked it away.  He could see frustration in her face, but also resolution.  Using his shoulder for support, Elewen pushed herself to her feet, despite the rumbling of the ground.  Legolas saw what was happening and helped support her, too.

            "The realm of Sauron is ended!" Gandalf cried from his place on top of one of the hills.  "The Ring-bearer has fulfilled his Quest."  A black shadow lifted from Mordor, filling the sky, but then dissipated, blown away on the wind.

            Leaning against Legolas, Elewen muttered, "But not all is finished.  Help me stand."  Legolas was ready to help her to the ground, but she resolutely kept her feet under her.

            "The battle is over.  You can rest."

            "No.  I will not have him see me injured."  Elewen looked over at Gandalf, and Legolas began to understand.  "He has work to do, and I will not distract him from it."  Gimli, understanding, moved to stand between her and Gandalf, blocking the wizard's view of the blood pouring from her wound.  They were all blood spattered, but too much blood was spilling from the wound to be spatters from the battle.

            A moment later, Gandalf flew away on the back of one of the great eagles, and Elewen finally dropped to her knees, coughing with pain.  Legolas called for Aragorn, but Elewen shook her head.

            "It is mortal, Legolas.  There will be no bringing me back from this."  The poison from the blade was already spreading through her system.  She might have survived the poison, but not with such a serious wound.  Legolas helped her lay down just as Aragorn arrived.  "Do not waste your time with me, Elessar.  Help the ones who may yet survive."  Elewen's voice faded in a fit of painful coughing.
            When she could speak again, Aragorn was still waiting over Elewen.  "Go!  I have lived longer than I could have ever hoped or even desired.  You cannot save me so go help those who still have hope."

            Finally, Aragorn left, and Elewen relaxed as much as she could.  "Legolas, before we left Minas Tirith, I asked Éowyn to look after my students should something like this happen.  Would you explain to them what's happened?"

            "Of course."

            "Where is my sword?  Someone should find it."

            "Here it is, lass," Gimli said, leaning over to wipe the blade on the ground.  There was no grass to speak of, but he managed to get the blood wiped off.  Gimli handed the sword to Legolas, who looked at it a little oddly.

            "What is it?" Elewen asked.

            "I cannot see the stains from before.  They are gone."

            Elewen laughed weakly.  "Perhaps it is a sign that I should go into the West."  She laughed, not bitterly, but dryly.  "There is no choice for me now.  Soon I will be in the Halls of Mandos*."

            Indeed, this was perhaps the greatest irony.  Despite the fact that Manwë had forgiven the exiles, the stains that still remained on Elewen's sword had often restrained her from thinking more seriously about returning.  They were symbols of her own guilt, which even Manwë's pardon could not remove.

            "Would you see that someone takes my sword into the West?  Mithrandir may wish to take it, but whoever carries it, my parents will wish to have it."

            "What happened between you?" Legolas asked.

            Elewen turned her head.  "Something that mustn't happen."

            Legolas looked at her, surprised.  She hadn't said it in as many words, but he knew what she meant.  There was little else that could have caused her to act as strangely as she had that morning.  He had known Elewen and Gandalf were friends, but he hadn't realized it went further.

            "Why can't it happen?"  Legolas was surprised at the revelation, but somehow it seemed right.  He and Elewen could never have had a lasting relationship, and he would have liked to see her happy.  It should have seemed strange to Legolas, but instead it felt right, despite the fact that he'd been seeing her only weeks earlier.

            "What?"  Legolas couldn't be that dense.  "He's…"

            "I know what he is.  I'm not stupid.  Still, why is it such a problem?"  Elewen couldn't believe she was hearing this.  The whole idea of it was crazy, especially now that she was dying.

            Elewen shook her head.  "It doesn't matter now."

            "Can you hold on at least until he returns?  He will want to see you before…" Legolas let his voice trail off.  He didn't need to say it—Gandalf would want to see her before she died.

            "I suppose I owe him that much."  They had always been friends, and even without what had happened the night before, she knew he would want to say goodbye.

            Elewen fell asleep after Legolas had seen to her wound, staunching the blood loss so she could make it a few hours longer.  Late that afternoon, she woke to a commotion.  Gandalf had returned with the two Hobbits.  Legolas ran to where the Eagles had left them, talking to the wizard quietly.  The soldiers nearby couldn't hear what was said, but they all could see Gandalf pale.  He leaned on his staff heavily for a moment, then stood straight and called for Aragorn, entrusting the two Hobbits to the king for the moment.

            That detail arranged, Gandalf hurried over to Elewen.  Blood loss had left her weak, so weak that she didn't try to raise her head, but just turned to look at him.  She smiled weakly.

            "I'm sorry, Elewen.  I should have realized you were hurt."

            "You had other obligations.  You couldn't have saved me.  How are the Hobbits?"

            "They will be fine.  Someone else could have gone after them."

            "It wouldn't have mattered.  I would still be dying."  Elewen reached for his hand.  "Take my sword back with you.  Give it to my parents and tell them that I love them."  Elewen paused, unsure of what to say next.  She squeezed his hand.  "I'm sorry I pushed you away," she whispered.  Closing her eyes, she finally surrendered and breathed her last.  Gandalf brushed his lips across her forehead, then stood slowly, wandering away in a daze.

*Essentially the Halls of the Dead.  It was a holding place for the dead rather than a place of punishment.  The only punishment for the Elves was separation from their bodies.  The Halls of Mandos were in Valinor, but the dead were not free to leave, though occasionally they were sent back.  Glorfindel is one of these—he died in the First Age protecting the refugees from Gondolin, then returned and is seen in Rivendell in the Third Age.