Get the tissues ready!

Chapter 12

The Final Breath

Ancalimé glanced sadly at her mother. The little girl had spent most days worrying about her brother and father hoping that they would return as of yet they had not and as nights passed her hope diminished. Unknowingly she had over heard the council and the matters Gandalf had pressed upon them. The fact that there was another dark lord frightened and alarmed her. She had never been the one interested in the war yet now most of her days had been spent sitting in the library with Anawiel and Tiniwiel reading up on the War of the Ring and anything that held facts on the First Age.

She had been unable to find many things on the First Age until Elladan and Elrohir gave her scrolls from Rivendell detailing the events of the First Age had the Princess learnt what she desired.

Since then Ancalimé had decided to keep her mother company, for the Queen was in constant tears. She had noticed her mother hardly eat or even go out into the sun. The Queen's skin was pale and the natural beauty of the elves seemed to have left her.

Arwen Undómiel looked old.

Even now her mother was crying. Every now and again the woman would fall unconscious, as blinding pain would sweep through her. The Princess could only guess that it was the King's agony that she was feeling.

If there was something Ancalimé could do for Arwen she would, but no one was to see her apart from the Lady Éowyn and if they needed to any of the Princess'. Ancalimé had chosen to stay out of her mother's way but keep safe watch on her.

Arwen had let Ancalimé into the room. The Queen was laying on the bed, covers wrapped round the elf.

The Princess rounded the bed, gently crawling into the bed beside her so not to disturb her. She wrapped her arms round the slim body of the Queen and hugged her.

All was silent.

"My daughter; my shining star." Arwen said softly.

Ancalimé smiled. "Your Ada's evening star."

Arwen did not reply for minutes causing her daughter to feel she'd said something wrong. She replied when Ancalimé started to remove herself from the bed. "Don't go."

"I said something wrong, didn't I?"

Arwen shook her head and turned her head to look at her daughter. "You didn't. Your words reminded me of a time when I met Aragorn in Lothlórien. It was a few months after I pledged myself to him. He told me that I was his evening star. And I am. We are bonded forever. I don't want to lose him, not now, not after what we've been through to be together. Twenty-five years is not long enough for me." Tears welled in the elf's eyes and slid down her cheeks. Ancalimé wiped them away.

"You'll see him again. I believe Eldarion can bring him back. Don't you agree?"

Arwen nodded slowly. "Yes I do. Nothing will be the same again even if Estel returns. I miss him so much. I want him back."

Then the tears flowed harder and Ancalimé wrapped her arms round her mother and hugged her whispering softly to her in the tongue of her native language.

The tracks of Orcs could be seen amongst the earth but also the tracks of a man and hobbits. The shining blue eyes of Eldarion flashed angrily as he thought of the way his father had been treated by the Orcs a mere day ago. It burned his heart to think of the vile creatures manhandling his father and the hobbits, though at the moment he held no care for Frodo and Sam; his main concern was freeing his father from Morgoth.

The tracks led east. He knew that there was a city not many miles ahead of them but he was unsure of where Morgoth resided. Perhaps Aragorn had been taken elsewhere: like the top of a mountain? Under-ground? Who knew?

The remaining Fellowship trudged behind the boy. With Gandalf's leaving Eldarion had no choice but to lead. He had no clue where to go and what places he should avoid. At least with the wizard, he would have had guidance. Now all he had was an elf who knew little of Numenor.

Eldarion frowned. What should he do? Follow the Orc tracks and hope for the best, or what? The boy had no clue. He needed guidance and the one person who held knowledge was not here. Gandalf had deserted him when he had said he would help him. He had no choice but to turn to the other members of the Fellowship.

"Where am I to go? There's a city ahead and the tracks lead towards it, but my heart tells me I should travel to where Morgoth resides and I do not know where he is. I need guidance."

"Follow the leadings of your heart." Legolas answered. "The sea calls me yet I do not follow the route of my people. I have committed myself to you. Your heart can tell you things that your head cannot."

Eldarion closed his eyes and concentrated. Where shall I go? What route am I to take?

Some voice found its way to him and said: The one that is to be taken down is found where your father is. The city ahead of you.

He didn't know where it had come from but something inside him told him to take that road. "We will go to the City."

For more then three hours the company trod the path following the Orc tracks. Merry and Pippin began to fall behind but they soon kept the pace gritting their teeth against the throbbing pain in their toes and feet. Coming closer to their destination gave them enough strength to carry on. It was their friend's lives on the line; they would not stop until they were safe.

The city draw ever closer and Eldarion's reluctance at his destiny grew. Soon the company stood on an overhanging cliff that looked over the chasm leading into the city of Eldalondë. Its tall spires glinted in the rising sun and the ancient city to Eldarion seemed almost royal.

"What's that?" Gimli asked as he spotted a bright flash erupting from one of the high towers.

Eldarion shuddered. Faramir answered: "Something's happening down there. Some evil is stirring."

"It has begun." Legolas answered. "The bearer is falling. Aragorn is dying."

"How long?" Eldarion asked apprehensively.

"Till he dies? Sometime this afternoon. It is nearly midday now. We have at least three hours left."

"I won't make it." The boy murmured.

"We're going to try." Faramir said. "I will not let my King die because of some prophecy. He will live. He has to."

"If I get there, I will have to kill him. It's what I have to do. I cannot stop his death no matter how much I wish to." Eldarion argued. "If I could I would save him. There is no other way Faramir, Ada must die."

The Prince of Ithilien nodded solemnly. He understood what was to be done but he couldn't accept it. He knew that the Queen would die and her children would grow up parentless. He did not wish for that to happen to them. Especially to those of the close-knitted family.

Eldarion scouted out a path that led downwards allowing them all to follow him. The city draw ever closer and the boy's heart saddened.

Gandalf leapt from the boat onto the glinting sand pulling out the ancient sword Glamdring to defend with. An Orc rushed him, and he sidestepped, before he could react Elrond was there, hacking away at the Orc, allowing Gandalf a chance to attack another.

All other elves were now descending from the boats and charging into the Orcs, running them down.

Elrond peered around and spotted Thranduil wielding a blade faster then any he had seen for the King in centuries. It was not often that the elves were angered; and Thranduil was angry especially because his son was on the island heading closer to Morgoth with the Fellowship.

Gandalf twisted and parried a blow, before ducking low and swiping out to the side. He smiled as an Orc fell at his feet. "We are gaining an upper edge in this battle."

"This is not all of his strength!" Elrond shouted over the battle towards Gandalf. "There is more to come!"

"Yes, but if we proceed then we can win this war." Gandalf replied his eyes set.

The battle continued.

Eldarion climbed up the steps leading towards his father and the hobbits were being held prisoner. He kept low and treaded carefully so not to be detected. The boy climbed the last few steps and crawled forward, sliding on his belly. The Fellowship crawled up behind him.

Below them they saw Aragorn, thriving and swishing in his fevered state as his body refused to let his soul leave him. Beside the dying man were Frodo and Sam caring for him. Aragorn's mouth opened in a wide scream but no sound was heard.

Eldarion cursed himself. He was running short of time. High in the sky he could a growing darkness that symbolised the returning power of Morgoth. Eldarion gripped Anduril and drew the blade from its sheath and rose to his feet.

"I'm going down there. Whatever happens don't stop me from what I've got to do." He commanded.

The boy jumped down from where he stood and landed in the shadows of the square. He ran forward towards his father and the others.

Frodo looked up and his face saddened. He whispered to Sam and Aragorn. Aragorn struggled to look up but failed to do so and groaned as a spike of pain ran through his system. His eyes were diluting.

Eldarion crouched next to him holding the King's head in his hands. "Ada? It's alright, I'm here now."

Aragorn's words were hard to understand but the Prince caught them all. "Go, please, you can't save me. Let me go. Tell Arwen I'm sorry. I'm really sorry." The man's eyes began to fade rapidly and be replaced with redness glowing within the depths.

Morgoth was taking control of Aragorn's body.

Eldarion leapt to his feet as Aragorn rose, the evil essence of Morgoth residing within him. The process was nearly complete. The young man held Anduril tightly and waited. Thoughts sped through his mind. The dream. It was all coming true. He now realised what the significance of that dream entailed: to prepare him for what was to come.

It was all happening to fast. Why didn't he think of this sooner? He was an idiot for not seeing this!

Eldarion was unprepared for the attack that came. A sharp sting ran up his arm and he gasped but was able to pull away as another attack came towards him. Somehow his father had acquired a sword, and it was big. Very big. He gripped Anduril tighter and steadied his gaze. His met Aragorn's and for a brief moment he saw a glimmer of the King in them before being replaced by the menacing gaze of Morgoth.

Blows rained down upon Eldarion but he held his own blocking each, his will set: to save his father no matter what. From afar the Fellowship watched with anticipation.

The battle was turning the elves way bit by bit. The Orcs were drawing back but overhead a great shadow was arriving. Darkness was bearing swiftly down upon Numenor.

With the Orcs fleeing Gandalf led Elrond towards the city of Eldalondë where the wizard hoped to find the Fellowship. If they were not then Morgoth would triumph.

"We must hope that all will fall into our favour." Gandalf said. "The shadow is almost upon us. It is not long now."

Elrond silently prayed for the safety of his grandson. He hoped that the power of the elves was with him.

Eldarion was falling. His strength was slowly wearing out. He was exhausted. Yet his pride would not allow him to give in. He had a promise to keep. His father relied on him.

He attacked ferociously aiming to disarm not kill whereas on the other hand Morgoth wanted to kill.

The boy ducked a swing at his head and swiped out at the man's unprotected legs. He grazed the leg and a loud screech filled the air. Then Aragorn disappeared leaving Eldarion alone. He glanced upwards and saw the Fellowship watching above and Frodo and Sam to the side.

He stood in the center of a circle, sword in hand, and his face sweating from the extortion of battle. His whole body ached. As he stepped forward from the circle a cruel laughter filled his ears and he stopped, standing still, numb from the previous fight.

"Eldarion! Behind you!" Frodo cried.

Then as he stepped forward once more something attacked him, scraping a dagger down his arm. He pulled away from his attacker only to whirl around and see Aragorn launching at him again, anger flaring between his eyes.

Eldarion stepped back as he parried against the rent less blows that descended. He was weakening. Then as he fought Eldarion did the most terrible thing a son could do. He leapt forward when Aragorn raised his blade, and without meaning to the young Prince stabbed the elder man in the chest.

Aragorn's eyes dimmed and he fell dead to the ground, Anduril buried deep in his heart. One last breath came to the Prince, as Aragorn died his spirit fleeing the world of the living.

A great scream echoed around them. The dark cloud began to shrivel and die. The essence of Morgoth was fading from Numenor's memory. The Orcs that the elves pursued withered and died. The Knights fled into the sky, back towards Middle-Earth. Their power was diminished. Without Morgoth they would not survive for long.

Elrond and Gandalf watched intently as the cloud departed and the sun began to appear. It was done. Morgoth was gone. Destroyed.

The Fellowship jumped into the square and walked slowly towards Eldarion who sobbed over the fallen form of his father. Tears sprang in each of their eyes. A dear friend had passed the doors of the world and fled forever into the mists of time, never to return.

TBC…

Please don't kill me. I didn't mean for it to end this way. Don't worry I'm not done with the story; there is more to come on Wednesday!

Yes, I know the Fellowship didn't do much at the end but it was Eldarion's task, and they couldn't interfere just in case they led him down the wrong path. Okay….so I'll post on Wed! Hopefully!