Here's chapter 15! This one took me forever. I was constantly re-writing it, adding stuff and deleting. I have the image of how I want it to go in my head but putting it down in writing was difficult. I tried. I was going to make it into two chapters but then I decided not to. Hopefully it doesn't let you down! Enjoy lovelies!

BOLD is for Elvish. ITALICS is for thoughts/memories/flashbacks

Legolas had decided to go for a short walk to check on Arod, leaving behind Gimli and Anolindë. The Dwarf had just finished his meal.

"Have you thought of any names for the wee one?" Gimli asked Anolindë.

"For a female, I thought Nienna would be lovely," Anolindë replied, absentmindedly holding her belly. "Nyvyan if it is a male."

"Those are lovely names," the Dwarf said with a smile. "I shall be Uncle Gimli."

Anolindë laughed.

"Uncle Gimli?" she asked him, raising an eyebrow.

Gimli nodded furiously. The two turned when they heard hooves nearby. Legolas was leading Arod to them.

"Aragorn is going into the mountain to summon the dead," he said as he neared them.

Anolindë stood and made to go prepare her weapons.

"No meleth nîn," Legolas said gently, grabbing her arm. "I wish for you to return to Edoras with Eowyn."

Anolindë turned to him, anger blazing in her eyes.

"I am a warrior Legolas," she growled between clenched teeth.

Legolas was silent for a moment. She rarely called him by his name.

"The battlefield is no place for you. You are with child," he continued. "My child."

Anolindë seethed with rage. He had done it at Helm's Deep and now he dared to do it again. She would not stand by idly while the males fought at Minas Tirith. Swiftly, she turned on her heels and entered their tent. She sat on the cot, attempting to control her rage. Outside, she could hear the whispers of the Men as they watched Aragorn, Legolas, and Gimli ride to the Dimholt. It was only after the whispers had subsided, that she left the tent. A hooded figure met her as she opened the flap. Long fingers came up to remove the hood and Anolindë almost gasped as the figure revealed itself.

"My lord Elrond," she whispered, bowing her head slightly.

"Anolindë," the Lord of Imladris greeted her. "It gives me much happiness to hear you are with child."

"Thank you my lord," she replied with a smile.

"May I?" Elrond asked, gesturing for her to follow him back into her tent.

She cast one last glance towards the Dimholt road before entering. She sat upon the cot, allowing Elrond to place his hands on her belly. He was one of the best healers the Elves had.

"Aragorn tells me you are only a few weeks," he said, placing only a lit bit of pressure onto her belly.

"Yes my lord," Anolindë said. "Why did he go into the mountain?"

Elrond paused for a moment.

"They will not win this fight alone," the Lord of Imladris explained, switching into Sindarin so the ears outside of the tent could not understand. "I have reforged Narsil. It is now known as Andúril, flame of the West. Anolindë, Arwen's fate is now tied to the ring."

Anolindë's eyes widened at the news. Arwen, her good friend, would pass if the ring was not destroyed.

"Then I will fight," she announced.

~:✿:~

A bright moon shone over Imladris, the sky completely cloudless. Anolindë sat with Arwen amongst one of the many beautiful gardens. The fellowship was to leave the next day and the two females wanted to spend some time together before Anolindë left on the quest.

"I will take good care of him," Anolindë said to the Evenstar.

"Promise?" Arwen asked, fiddling with the necklace around her neck.

"Yes of course," Anolindë promised. "You should give him that as a token of your love."

Arwen looked down at the pendant in her fingers.

"Yes," she agreed, unclasping the chain. "I shall miss you my friend."

"And I shall miss you as well," Anolindë replied, hugging the other elleth. "We will see each other again."

The two sat together for a while longer before Legolas interrupted them.

"Arwen," he greeted Elrond's daughter with a slight bow and his hand over his heart.

"Legolas, my friend," Arwen exclaimed, wrapping her arms around him in a quick hug. "Take good care of Anolindë. Otherwise, you shall face my wrath."

The three laughed.

"I must borrow Anolindë," Legolas said, placing his hand on Anolindë's arm. "We must pack."

Arwen nodded in agreement.

"Take care of each other. And trust. Trust in each other. Keep each other safe," the Evenstar told them. "Goodbye my friends. Until we meet again."

~:✿:~

The next morning found the encampment in a blaze of activity. Men were preparing themselves and their horses for war. Anolindë led a borrowed horse to the king's side. Theoden looked at her curiously.

"I thought you were to return to Edoras," he said.

"No, my lord," Anolindë replied. "I shall be joining you."

Theoden looked thoughtful for a moment.

"Then you shall ride at the king's side," he proclaimed. "It would be an honor to ride into battle with such a fierce warrior."

Anolindë gave him a polite smile and mounted her horse. The king's horse was brought to him and he too mounted his steed. With Éomer on his right and Anolindë on his left, they made their way down the mountainside and through the rest of the camp.

"Move out!" Éomer shouted.

"Ride!" Theoden called to his men. "Ride now to Gondor!"

With a pounding of hooves, six thousand riders followed their king towards Minas Tirith.

~:✿:~

They rode hard and swift, stopping only to rest the horses. Anolindë accepted a small flask of water from one of the Men. Impatiently, they awaited the return of the scouts who had been sent ahead to assess the battle that lay before them.

"Lord Legolas would want you to return to Edoras," Theoden said to Anolindë.

He knew she had lied to him. But he was not her king and could not command her to stay behind.

"I am fine my lord," she replied, taking a sip of water.

"Is it healthy for a woman to ride into battle when she is with child?" he asked curiously.

Anolindë raised an eyebrow. Word spread quickly amongst the Rohirrim it would seem.

"My child is fine as well," she stated, moving her hand to her belly.

Inside, the small fëa was a whirlwind of emotions, picking up on its mother's thoughts.

"Hush little one," Anolindë whispered to it. "It will soon be over."

At that moment, Éomer returned with the scouts.

"The scouts report Minas Tirith is surrounded," he said to Theoden. "The lower levels in flames. Everywhere, legions of the enemy advance."

"Time is against us!" Theoden remarked. "Make ready!"

"Prepare to move out!" Éomer called to the Rohirrim.

"Make haste!" Theoden added. "We ride through the night!"

Rohirric horns pierced the air, signaling for the rest to prepare for battle.

~:✿:~

It was dawn when they reached Minas Tirith. Theoden slowed them down as they approached the crest of a hill. Anolindë knew the White City lay behind it. And with it, thousands upon thousands of Orcs. Theoden signaled for the horns to be blown again. They advanced to the top of the hill. Nothing prepared Anolindë for the sight before her. The Pelennor Fields were black with a swarming mass of Orcs. Catapults flinging huge boulders dotted the field. The stench of Orc and death invaded her nose. The thousands of Orcs turned to face them as the horns were blown again, announcing their arrival. Theoden grimaced as he realized the battle would not be won. There were too many. Anolindë cast her eyes downward as she too realized this.

"I am sorry my love," she whispered.

"Éomer!" the king called to his nephew. "Take your eored down the left flank!"

Éomer turned his horse, calling to his men.

"Gamling!" the king continued. "Follow the king's banner down the center! Grimbald! Take your company right after you pass the wall! Forth! And fear no darkness!"

Anolindë steadied her horse as Theoden rode to the front, trying to encourage the Rohirrim.

"Arise! Arise riders of Theoden! Spears shall be shaken! Shields shall be splintered! A sword day, a red day! Ere the sun rises!"

He spurred his horse forward, raising his sword and banging it against the lowered spears.

"Ride now! Ride now! Ride! Ride for ruin and the worlds ending! Death!"

The army of men took up his chant.

"Death! Death! Death!"

"Forth Eorlingas!" Theoden screamed at the top of his lungs.

At the sound of horns, they spurred their horses forward, charging at the Orcs. Arrows flew into their midst, bringing down several riders. Despite her thundering heart, Anolindë fired back at a deadly pace, bringing down as many Orcs as she could before drawing her long knives. With a sickening clash, the riders hit the first wall of Orcs, many horses skewered by long pikes. Anolindë slashed downwards on both sides of her horse, slicing through Orc flesh. One by one she cut them down, her blade now covered in black blood. She felt a sting in her leg. Looking down, she noticed a gash on her calf. With a small cry, she plunged her blade deep into the throat of the Orc that had injured her. He gurgled as his windpipe filled with blood. The riders pushed forwards as the Orcs finally began to retreat.

"Drive them to the river!" Éomer shouted.

"Make safe the city!" Theoden commanded.

Anolindë paused as she heard a distant chanting. She turned her horse to face the river. She gasped inwardly as she saw what was approaching them. Mumakil, the giant beasts of Harad. On their backs were hundreds of Harad Men. Their chanting grew louder as they came closer. The ground began to shake as the beasts neared them.

"Re-form the line!" Theoden yelled. "Re-form the line! Sound the charge! Take them head on!"

The riders of Rohan regrouped and at the sound of the horns, they charged at the beasts. Anolindë sheathed her knives and quickly pulled out her bow, notching an arrow to it as her horse carried her to the Mumakil. Narrowing her eyes, she aimed for one of the men steering one of the beasts. She let the arrow fly, watching as the man fell from his position atop of the head. As they reached the Mumakil, the beasts swung their enormous tusks from side to side, sweeping many Rohirrim into the air. Others were crushed by their giant feet. Quickly she grasped her knives as she spurred her horse towards one of the beasts. Narrowly avoiding the tusks, she rode underneath, dodging the feet that pounded the ground near her. With a cry, she sliced at the knees of the Mumakil as she rode beneath it. Her knives cut through the thick leathery skin, slicing tendons and muscles. The beast collapsed as these were severed, no longer being able to stand on its own. Anolindë turned to see it fall. Another Mumakil was approaching Éomer further away from her.

"Éomer!" she screamed at the king's nephew.

His head turned to see where the cry had come from. Instead, his eyes were greeted by the sight of a large beast bearing down on him. He hefted a spear, squinting his eyes as he aimed towards the man sitting atop of the beasts head. With all his strength, he sent the spear whizzing towards the man. It hit its mark, causing the man to fall, his hands still grasping the reins that controlled the Mumakil. The rein tugged on one of the ears, pulling it to one side. The beast roared as it lumbered sideways, unintentionally towards another Mumakil. Its tusks went underneath the legs of the other one, lifting it off the ground. Anolindë stared as both beasts crashed to the ground, her ears ringing with the thunderous sound.

"Aim for their heads!" she heard Éomer yell.

Arrows flew into the heads of the beasts from all sides. One of them reared up.

"Bring it down! Bring it down!" Theoden called out.

Anolindë grasped her bow and fired arrow after arrow into the head of another. A large thud shook the ground as it fell over, dead, knocking several Rohirrim off their horses.

"Rally to me! To me!" she heard the king cry.

She made to move to his side but stopped as she saw a winged beast fly towards them.

"The Witch-king of Angmar!" she hissed.

To her horror, the beast opened its mouth and caught Theoden and his horse. She could hear the king's strangled cry as he was swung around. The fell beast released both horse and rider, flinging them to one side. Anolindë's Elven hearing could hear the sound of bones crunching as the dead horse landed on top of Theoden. She notched an arrow to her bow and aimed at the dark rider sitting atop of the fell beast. Slowly, they moved towards Theoden, who was staring up at it in fright. A man of Rohan appeared before the fell beast, sword drawn as if to protect the king. Something about the man seemed familiar. Anolindë tilted her head slightly, studying him. Suddenly, a pain shot through her shoulder as she was thrown off her horse. An arrow protruded from her body. Lying motionless on the ground, she thought of Legolas.

How are you faring? she thought.

She knew he was alive. She could feel it through their bond. She stared up into the clouded sky, listening to the screams of dying men around her. She could slowly feel her energy drain from her as she lay there, unmoving.

"Forgive me Legolas," she said aloud, closing her eyes.

A single tear ran down her dirtied cheek.

~:✿:~

"That still only counts as one! Come on!"

Anolindë's eyes flew open at the familiar voice.

"Gimli!" she whispered.

She sat up abruptly, her eyes scanning the battlefield. Finally she found them. She saw her prince, firing arrows into the remaining Orcs. A ghoulish army was around them, bringing down the rest of the Mumakil and swirling into the city. She reached for the arrow still stuck in her shoulder. She winced slightly as she broke the shaft in two. Tossing the arrow to one side, she stood. Her knives were still on her back. Quickly, she unsheathed them and ran to her companions, blood spraying over her as she dug into Orc flesh.

"Anolindë!"

She paused as she heard Legolas call her name frantically. Meeting his gaze, she smiled. He was uninjured. His eyes were filled with anger and concern. He could still see the hole in her shoulder. Finally, after hacking through several Orcs, they met each other in a tight embrace. Legolas caught her lips in a passionate kiss. She kissed him back just as fiercely.

"You were to return to Edoras!" he said, anger returning to his voice as they pulled apart.

"I will not be treated as a mortal," she replied, anger in her own voice. "I will not sit by idly as you fight."

Legolas opened his mouth but no words came. He meant to yell at her, to make her understand how worried he had been when he had first seen her on the battlefield.

"You are injured," he said instead.

"Yes," she said, looking at the hole in her shoulder.

Her tunic was stained dark red with blood. She returned her gaze to her mate, studying his face. He was angry with her, and she with him.

"Legolas…" she began.

Suddenly, she crumpled at his feet. Legolas was only swift enough to catch her head before it hit the ground.

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