A/N: This is a bit of both the book and movie here again. There is still more battle to come so fear not! I haven't forgotten anyone!
It seemed to Gimli as if every creature in Middle Earth had arrived at the Pelennor Fields to fight in the last battle for Middle Earth. Even the terrifying cries of the Nazgul's winged mounts added their horrific sounds to the din of battle. Creatures the dwarf had never seen seemed to materialize in front of him at every turn. Had he been faint of heart, he would have been quite unnerved by it. To him it was merely annoying.
He had been determined to keep an eye on the elf and the ranger but they had both managed to slip out from under his watchful gaze and he grumbled in irritation. The two of them seemed to vanish as soon as the oath breakers had swept on to the battlefield leaving him lagging behind! Almost immediately after leaving the quay, the enemy rushed at him with axes and swords and rained blows on him but they did not wound nor move him and he fought his way slowly forward following in the wake of the oath breakers.
A great roar arose from somewhere in the east and the dwarf cursed. He could feel the earth moving with a sudden rush of feet and he held firm against the latest surge from the enemy, stubbornly refusing to give an inch of ground. Although men and foul creatures lay cut down and dead on all sides, he never retreated or looked back, his mind steadfast and calm in the struggle. He would find his friends when this was over.
Deka turned her head and, closing her eyes against the carnage all around them, held close to the man in front of her as they surged into battle. Initially the men were reluctant to take the dryads but they soon realized they would need all the help they could get against the enemy and finally agreed to take the dryads with them.
As the horse slowed against the forward press of the enemy, Deka leapt from the animal and began to desperately fight her way forward on foot. As they broke through the enemy line, she saw a rider less horse and quickly made her way toward the skittish animal, trying her best to calm the creature lest it flee from her.
Although she was normally wary of horses, she knew she stood a better chance of surviving the battle if she had her own mount. She was simply too small to fight on foot without fear of being crushed by both her enemies and her allies. Fleetingly, she wondered how Annowe coped with hand-to-hand combat and where her elusive cousin was.
Quickly she mounted the horse and rode off, glancing around in the hopes of finding the missing naiad. Instead she located the dwarf anchoring a line of men and fought her way to his side. With a grin, she offered him a hand up and he laughed heartily as gripped her hand and hauled himself up behind her.
"Let's go get some Orcs!" He cried and Deka laughed grimly as she spurred the horse forward, Gimli dealing violent blows to the enemy as Deka threw some creatures to the ground. Their combined wrath was terrible as they cast some of the enemy down with blood pouring forth, and drove others to hell with fatal wounds as they surged forward through the enemy lines.
From his position on top of the White City - now surrounded by siege engines, oliphaunts, and numerous footmen, Denethor looked down on what he believed to be his men's defeat. The air was full of the harsh sound of arrows thudding from bows, horses rearing up in terror and the mountains reverberating with the din of battle.
"It is lost, all is lost," his mind wailed in agony. They should flee the city! It was madness to fight Sauron! He knew that – he had seen that in the Palantir. Now all the terrible visions the stone had shown him were coming to pass. By some ill omen he had been snatched into danger and was now facing his doom, he was certain of it.
Terrified, he fled from the walls, ordering everyone to retreat or flee. He would not die here, no! He would not die slain by foul Orcs or the other savages from the east! He was the last steward of Gondor and he would not be taken alive.
Roughly shoving the annoying hobbit aside and ordering several of his men to gather Faramir's body, Denethor quickly made for the ancient cemetery of the Gondorian kings behind the citadel. There he would create his funeral pyre. Both he and Faramir would be consigned to the flames amidst the former Kings of Gondor. It was his last desperate act.
Frantically, he helped his men pile the wood and soak it with oil. It was a fitting end for him. He had failed. Both of his sons were dead. The White City would fall. His shame and guilt drove him over the edge of madness and he could not escape the pain quickly enough.
Pippin knew he had to find Gandalf if he were to save Faramir from the funeral pyre. The man was still alive although barely and Denethor seemed to have gone over the edge of reason. Quickly the frightened hobbit darted through the streets of the city screaming for Gandalf and hoping he could find the wizard in time to save the brave warrior from a flaming death.
Men fled in terror around him, some running toward the citadel and others running toward the walls to defend the city. Pippin was pushed and shoved numerous times and his high voice could not be heard over the roar of battle and the screams of the dying. In a panic he continued to wail for Gandalf, deeply shocked and demoralized by the horror of the scenes he had witnessed as well as frightened and alone in this terrible place at what seemed like the end of the world.