A/N: Aragorn's big speech to the Army of the West is, of course, not mine. It's borrowed from the movie.

"What's taking so long?" wondered Legolas anxiously. The Host of the West had moved into ranks, facing the Black Gate, a while ago. He could now feel their fear growing every second they stood in that eerie silence, awaiting Sauron's response.

"I think it's time that someone rang the doorbell and announced our presence," replied Aragorn darkly. He urged Hasufel forward, followed by the riders of the three other horses. "None of you need to come with me," he told them. "I'm probably just making a target of myself for whatever is waiting on that wall."

"Don't think that I'm going to stand back now, Estel," said Mithrandir pointedly. "I have been engaged in this struggle since before you terrorized the twins with the saga that was your potty training."

"And I have a responsibility to represent the Rohirrim," chimed in Eomer. "It's been a long time since Thorongil rode as an official part of our numbers."

"You can't possibly thing I'm going to sit back and watch as you ride into danger," Legolas told his lover. "I intend to stay right here at your side."

"Face it, lad," declared Gimli. "You're never going to be able to go into danger and war alone as long as at least one of us is around."

Bolstered by their unwavering loyalty, Aragorn squared his shoulders. "Let the lord of the Black Land come forth," he yelled as loud as he could, thoroughly impressed that his voice was commanding and not shaking. "Let him answer for the evils he has done against the free peoples of Middle Earth!"

Silence was again their only answer for a long moment. Then the gate creaked and opened slowly to reveal a gigantic army of orcs, trolls, and other evil creatures that had allied themselves with the enemy. There seemed to be no end to Sauron's forces.

"Go back," Aragorn ordered his fellow riders. They hastily complied, falling back to the ranks of men who were now shifting fearfully in place and looking ready to bolt at any moment. Aragorn looked at them with sympathy rather than annoyance. He knew that most of them had never marched beyond their own countries before. Mordor had never been anything more than a sense of uneasiness in the air or a far away place of nightmarish legend. Now that they were faced with the terrifying reality, he wasn't surprised that fear was quickly overriding their valiant courage.

"Men of Gondor, of Rohan. My brothers!" called out Aragorn in a loud, clear voice, determined to give these brave men whatever words they needed to handle this ordeal. "I sea in your eyes the same fear that would take the heart of me!" He paused for a moment to steal a glance at Legolas. 'Please Eru, don't let this take the heart of me,' he begged silently.

"The day may come when the courage of Men fails," he continued. "That we may forsake our friends and forget all bonds of fellowship." His eyes shone with pride as Gimli squeezed Legolas' arm and the hobbits exchanged a smile that told the story of their journey. "But it will not be this day. An hour of wolves and shattered shield when the age of Men comes crashing down, but it will not be this day! This day we fight! I bid you stand, Men of the West!"

No fear was in the men's voices as they answered in a resounding cheer that would lift the hopes of even the most desolate and despairing being. It shook the ground even as the orcs drew closer.

"Aragorn!" shouted Legolas. The Man turned to see that he'd dismounted Arod and was helping Gimli do the same. "The horses!"

Aragorn quickly dismounted as the others did the same. "Hannon lle, my faithful friend," he murmured to Hasufel.

"Lead them to Cormallen," Mithrandir urged his steed. Shadowfax let out a majestic neigh and sped off, leading the others to safety.

The remnants of the fellowship and Eomer came together in front of the Army of the West as Sauron's host spilled out of Mordor. They were like ants, parading endlessly out of their dark hole until they'd completely surrounded their prey. "I guess this is it," said Gimli, sounding resigned. "I never thought I'd die side by side with an elf."

Legolas quirked an eyebrow at him. "If you don't like the idea of that," he suggested, his voice giving away how much he cared for and respected the dwarf, "how about side by side with a friend."

"Aye, laddie," said Gimli with equal fondness. "Now that's something I would be proud to do."

The air was suddenly filled with a sinister chill. Legolas jumped as Aragorn broke away from the group and started forward. "Aragorn!" he hissed desperately. He tried to follow but found that he was rooted in place by some will other than his own. "The eye of the enemy is upon him," he realized, terror seizing his heart.

Aragorn felt himself being pulled forward. "Aragorn," a malevolent voice called seductively in his mind and all around him. "Elessar. Come forth to me and I will give you everything that you wish. Lead me to the ring and all that you desire will be yours to command in an instant."

It was that promise that broke whatever spell the enemy had put over him. Looking back at Legolas he knew exactly what he wanted and desired. He remembered the elf's triumphant grin when he'd bested Elladan on the archery field, how his lips felt when he'd felt them on his own for the first time, and the resolve in his voice when he'd given him the greenleaf gem. Aragorn remembered the touches and caresses in Lothlorien surrounded by elanor flowers and how his eyes shone when he knew how the Man had resisted the ring. Most of all, he remembered the power of Legolas' words at Helm's Deep and when he told Aragorn that he was mortal because he loved him so much. That's what Aragorn wanted; to love Legolas, for Legolas to love him, and to be worthy of such a gift. And that's what it was – a gift that the ring couldn't deliver because it had already been freely gifted. To give in now would shatter it forever.

'It is time,' he realized. Time for him to rise above all of his fathers since the days of Elendil and help a little hobbit be rid of a burden that he shouldn't have to have born in the first place. "For Frodo," he declared quietly before turning with a yell to meet the enemy's army head-on.

The others followed quickly behind him and the entire Host of the West came behind them. The field was once again caught in a frenzy of clashing swords and knives, as well as swinging axes and bow shots. They might have been vastly outnumbered but at the very least they'd take a good many with them into death. However the battle went, a great victory had already been achieved: for the first time ever, members of all four races had marched in together and now battled as allies against evil forces.

"The eagles have come!" cried out a surprised and relieved voice. Aragorn looked to the sky and saw that there was indeed a vast number of eagles, led by Gwaihir the Windlord, doing battle against the fell beasts of the Nazgul.

"This is just like old Bilbo's story!" he heard Pippin shout to Merry.

"Yeah!" agreed Merry. "And his side won in the end."

Aragorn might have taken a second to muse fondly about hobbit logic if he hadn't heard the abnormally heavy footfalls behind him. The world seemed to slow down as he turned to face a monstrous troll. With Anduril glinting, he ran toward it but the troll reacted as if nothing more than a mosquito was attacking it. It raised its great metal club, bringing it down with all of his strength to crush the Man's skull. Aragorn deflected the blow enough so that it didn't kill him, but it did knock him on his back.

Legolas watched in horror as his lover hit the ground. "ARAGORN!" he screamed. The Man was still valiantly trying to fend off the troll, but the creature wasn't fazed at all. With all elven grace forgotten, Legolas roughly pushed orcs aside, trying to force his way forward to Aragorn's aid.

The troll had knocked Anduril from Aragorn grasp and was now raising its foot. Legolas cried out as it stomped on Aragorn, slowly and deliberately. It seemed to take extreme pleasure in prolonging its victim's agony. Oh, were the orc blocking his way on purpose? In a desperate panic, Legolas tried to leap over them, his eyes still fixed on his lover. The Man was still fighting to the last, stabbing at the troll's foot with his curved elven knife.

Suddenly the cries of the Nazgul filled the air. Of course they'd been filling the air since the beginning of the battle, but now they sounded surprised and alarmed rather than menacing and powerful. Without warning, they turned their fell beasts from the fight with the eagles and flew as fast as they could toward Mount Doom. The other servants of the enemy, as if suddenly abandoned by the will that gave them the skill to fight, stopped their onslaught.

The confusion that gripped the army of Sauron allowed Legolas to break through their ranks and rush to Aragorn's side. The troll has stopped his vicious attack when the others did, taking off and leaving Aragorn to struggle to sit up. Legolas threw himself to the ground behind him, half-supporting and half-hugging him. "Are you well, meleth?" he asked breathlessly. "Are you injured?"

Aragorn squeezed the arms around him as if his lover would vanish if he didn't. "I'm better than any Man should be after being stepped on by a troll," he gasped, not believing he still breathed at all. "Help me stand."

"The eye of the enemy has turned," Legolas told him as he pulled Aragorn to his feet. "It's now fixed on Orodruin!"

That would mean... Aragorn whipped his head in the direction of the mountain just in time to see a mesmerizing sight. Barad-dur, with they eye of Sauron at the top, was starting to crumble. The eye that had once menaced all that was good on Middle Earth, that had seemed so unstoppable, was now looking around frantically as its fortress toppled. The enemy knew that his power was gone forever.

"Frodo!" yelled Merry as he thrust his sword aloft. "Frodo!"

Then, when there was almost nothing left of Barad-dur save a pile of rubble on the ground, the eye of Sauron turned in on itself and vanished forever. The vanishing sent out a shockwave that caused the ground under the servants of the enemy's feet to fall out and destroy them. The Host of the West cheered, wept, and congratulated each other as they came to realize that unexpected and total victory was at hand. No living being on that field would ever forget that day, or be able to recall them without tears coming to their eyes.

Standing in front of the celebration was the remnants of the fellowship. They stared at the top of Mount Doom, or rather where the top used to be. The shockwave that had destroyed their enemies had also destroyed the mountain's peak. The peak where Frodo and Sam would have been in order to complete the quest. Aragorn stood in shock, only vaguely registering Merry and Pippin's sobs, Gimli's shout of despair, and Mithrandir's frantic request to Gwaihir that he bear the wizard to the molten-covered ruins. Legolas slipped his hand into Aragorn's as tears of grief fell from both of their eyes onto that field of victory.

To be continued...

A/N: My computer's currently under seige from Spyware. I've put in a call to a repair service and hopefully they'll be able to fix the problem before it's totally unusable. However, if I don't post again by Thursday assume that my computer has to spend a few days at the shop and my online time's been reduced to checking my e-mail at the university library. Wish me (and my computer and the nice repair-people) luck!