By the Light of the Moon

Disclaimer: I do not own any of Tolkien's creations. I only own SOME of the storyline and the characters I made up. This takes place during The Two Towers and Return of the King.

A/N: OMG!! I can't believe I haven't updated in so long! I hope you all can forgive me! ::puppy dog eyes:: I promise I'll try not to do that again! I'm going away for the month of August though...Florida and California...so I'll try to get caught up on my writing while I'm away. Thank God I have a laptop. ::smile:: I'll try and update at least once more before I leave, but I don't know if I will.

Special Thanks to all of my reviewers! I can't name all of you, but I will at my next update! ::smile::

Chapter 22: Battle of the Pelennor Fields: Part II

Mariah was exhausted when she reached the top of the stairs. Her heart was pounding and her breathing deep. "Why had I morphed back to normal BEFORE I got up here?" she asked no one in particular. She placed a hand over her heart and then looked ahead. There was a wooden door with two torches, one on each side of it. "Huh," Mariah mumbled as she walked toward it and ran her hands over the golden handle, "Interesting..."

She opened the door and entered slowly, peering around the room. It was a bedroom and an office as well. "This must be Denethor's room," she said softly. There was a small bed in the corner, a desk, and a dresser. It was normal, but something about it felt evil. "Mariah..." a voice whispered.

"HUH?" she asked as she turned around, looking for whoever said her name. The voice had sounded spiritual, but demon-like. "Mariah..."

"Okay, who the hell said that?" she yelled, her eyes fearfully scanning the room. Suddenly, a small door creaked open on the opposite side of the room and an eerie wind swept around the room, making Mariah's hair whip around. She cautiously walked toward the door and opened it all the way. There was a set pf stairs that circled a dark corner. "Hello?" she asked, hearing her voice echo. No one answered. "Hello?" she said again as she peeked around the corner. She could see a dim light at the top of the stairs. "Here I go," she whispered as she walked up the spiral stairs, keeping one hand against the cold stone wall.

When she reached the top, she realized that she was in a secret room at the very top of the Citadel. There was a small window off to her left and in the middle of the room was a table that held a black sphere. "That looks like the Palantir Pippin found," Mariah said softly as she walked over to it. There was a silver cloud of smoke inside it and it captivated her gaze. She found herself reaching out to touch it, but quickly backed away and felt the wall against her back. "Mariah..." The same creepy voice was back.

"Who are you?" she asked.

"Come," it whispered. Mariah looked around the room, but there was no one there. Where was the voice coming from? "Right here..." Mariah's eyes were again fixed on the Palantir. She slowly walked toward the orb and sat down in a chair next to the table. It was incredibly strange. What was going on?

Mariah eyed the Palantir curiously and abruptly reached out and let her fingertips run over the smooth surface. A strange sensation began flowing through her veins and she could feel her heartbeat in her ears. "That's it," she muttered as she went to pull her hands away, but they wouldn't move...and the orb was literally heating up. Mariah screamed and threw her head back, feeling her body morph into the werewolf again.

She flew to the other side of the room and hit the cold stone hard. She groaned in pain and sat up, rubbing her head gently. "What happened?" she asked. Mariah had no idea about anything anymore, but when she looked down at her hands, she saw that she was normal again. She jumped to her feet and walked back over to the Palantir. As she gazed into the orb, she saw Legolas' face, but it was filthy and his eyes were wide. Mariah placed her hands on the sphere and could hear him shouting her own name in fear. "I see you," the evil voice stated.

"LEAVE ME ALONE!" Mariah shouted as she darted to the window and punched the glass. She then squeezed her way out and stepped onto a thin stone ledge. She held onto the windowsill and looked down, realizing how high up she really was. "Whoa," she said faintly as she stayed as close to the wall as possible. It was at least two hundred feet down...and when I say at least...I mean way more!

"Okay...I have to do this," Mariah said to herself as she morphed into her other form. She counted to three and jumped, keeping her eyes focused on the nearing ground. Mariah did a front flip and landed on her feet, but when she stood up, she felt terrified once again. She quickly changed back to normal and shook her head. "What's happening to me?"

Her thoughts were broken when she heard a horse neigh. Mariah looked toward where she had tried to save Faramir and bolted toward it. When she got inside, she saw someone burning in flames jump off the pile of wood and run out another door. "So passes Denethor, son of Ecthelion," someone said. Mariah glanced to her right and saw Gandalf sitting on Shadowfax. "Gandalf!" she shouted.

"Mariah, where have you been?" he asked as he dismounted his horse and looked at her.
On the Pelennor Fields, the Rohirrim were fighting the orcs and had pretty much succeeded in victory. "Drive them to the river!" Èomer shouted as he raised he sword.

"Make safe this city!" King Théoden yelled. Suddenly, the ground began to shake and everyone looked toward the river. There were huge Mûmakil heading in their direction with Haradrim riding them. "Reform the line! Reform the line!" the king ordered. The men did as they were told. "Sound the charge! Charge!" Théoden shouted as Gamling blew the horn. All of the Rohirrim followed the king's orders and took the elephant-like creatures head on.
Gandalf, Pippin, and Mariah were all sitting at a level where the next door would be broken down by the enemy. They could hear the loud pounding of the battering ram the trolls were using and the loud unbearable screeching of the Nazgul flying overhead. Mariah studied her daggers thoughtfully as her mind began to drift to Legolas. How was he? Was he alive? Did he miss her? She knew how much she cared for him, but how could an elf love a werewolf? He was so perfect...and she was not.

For once her mind was telling her to think rationally. There was never going to be a way for them to be together. She had to go home someday...even if there was nothing there to live for. It was where she belonged. This was a fantasy.

"I never thought it would end this way," Pippin said, breaking the silence among the three of them.

"End?" Gandalf confirmed, "No the journey doesn't end here. Death is just another path...one that we all must take. The grey-ring curtain of this world rolls back and all turns to silver glass...and then you see it."

"What? Gandalf? See what?" Pippin asked with a slight smile and tears forming in his eyes.

"White shores...and beyond...the far green country under a swift sunrise."

"Well, that isn't so bad."

"No...no it isn't," the wizard replied as he smiled and then looked at the young woman sitting quietly as if she never existed, "Are you alright?"

"Fine," she whispered.

"You are worried about going home and what you will leave behind...namely a certain prince?" Mariah felt her cheeks flush and she looked down once again, trying to keep her mind on the battle that lay ahead. "You will do fine," Gandalf said as another loud bang was heard. Mariah looked over at Pippin and saw the fear in him as he gripped the handle of his sword as tightly as he could with his little hands.

She could see how war truly was...and it wasn't like they make it look in movies. It was painful and terrifying. Even if you felt safe...it was scary. Who knew when it was your last day to live, to breathe, and to love?
Meanwhile down on the fields, Aragorn, Legolas, Gimli, and the Army of the Dead were fighting as well. They had arrived on the ships of the Corsairs, after killing them off of course. While the Army of the Dead swept across the field in their brilliant translucent green color, Legolas and Gimli were competing again. "Fifteen, sixteen!" the elf shouted. He could hear Gimli shouting his count as well and to his surprise, the dwarf was ahead of him by a few orcs.

Aragorn was busy using Anduril, his new sword, as he sliced through many orcs who were charging at him left and right. He was holding the sword that was rightfully his and fighting for what he believed in. The ranger had always gone his own way, avoiding his past and fearing what would become of him, but this felt right. He may have been walking the expected path now...but all he cared about was defending his friends and home. After stabbing an orc through stomach and knocking him to the ground, he could hear the faint sound of Gimli shouting the number twenty-nine. When he glanced toward Legolas, who was facing him, he shouted the elf's name as a warning.

Legolas turned around and his eyes widened slightly at the sight before him. A gigantic Mumak carrying at least fifty to one-hundred Haradrim was charging toward him. He paused for only a brief moment before taking the elephant-like creature head on and leaping gracefully onto one of its many tusks. Even though it swung its trunk as its next defence, the elf jumped down onto one of its feet since ropes had been tied around its ankle. He held on for his life and then jumped onto the hind leg of the Mumak, using the arrows stuck in its body as a ladder.

When he reached the top, he continued shooting arrows as the Haradrim archers, all the while counting, "Thirty-three...thirty-four..." Two soldiers both leapt at him, but the elf knocked both of them off and sent them tumbling down into the clutter of dead bodies forming below from the Army of the Dead's skilful killing. He then grabbed onto a loose rope and swung down to the front leg of the animal, trying to avoid its trunk the best he could. This is not easy he thought as he gripped onto the rope more firmly and braced his legs on the side of the Mumak.

With his Elven speed, he quickly grabbed one of his white knives from his pack and sliced the three ropes that held up the tower-like stand atop the creature. This unfortunately, for the Haradrim, caused it to fall away from Legolas and toward the ground. The elf let the tower pull him up so when it hit the ground, he was on top of the elephant, overlooking the entire battlefield. With a deep breath, he ran to the head of the Mumak and notched three arrows before releasing them into the animal's head. It let out a loud scream of pain before slowly falling down to the ground.

Legolas darted to the front of the Mumak and surfed down its trunk before landing safely on the ground. He arrived directly in front of his dwarf companion and gave a sigh of both relief and pride, but Gimli did not look pleased. "That still only counts as one!" he shouted. The elf smiled slightly and then looked up at Minas Tirith, which was towering high above him. He could see the Army of the Dead swarming up the seven high levels of the city, killing off any of the enemy that could be found. He was proud of himself, but his mind drifted to one thought...is she okay?