And so the battles continue. Enjoy!
"That was a foolish choice on your part, dear Feywen. I could have made you a goddess."
"I will not be feared by my allies." She pulled back and twisted, trying to cut his legs from under him. He blocked her attack.
"You misunderstand me. You will not sit next to me on the throne left for you. But you will give me a son."
"Then you misunderstand me. I will not be feared by my allies. They will fight to free me, whether I sit on the throne or no. And any child I give you I would rather kill before I let you get near them." He swung his fist at her. She dodged it and hit him with her fire. He barely had enough time to form a shield and was only knocked back towards the thrones. He sent a stream of black magic towards her. Fire blossomed in front of her and swallowed the black magic before spitting it back out at him. He dodged and the throne behind him, the throne meant for her, was destroyed. He charged her before she could get off another attack. She met him with her blade, trying to knock the crown from his head. She only managed to wound him at every try because he kept avoiding her blows to the head. "Vilya,"
"I'll try." Feywen blocked his attack and concentrated on keeping him occupied while she let Vilya try to lift the crown. "I can't. It is too heavy for me." Feywen said nothing, knowing what it was she had to do. She had to get away from him first. She never thought that she would be using magic to finish this fight. She used the wind to blast Morgoth back again. Once he was away from her, she struck the floor with her blade. The ground rumbled beneath her. She struck it again, harder. The ground quaked. She struck it again and Morgoth, who had regained his feet, stumbled as the earth shook violently beneath his feet. The crown fell from his head and bounced towards her. She dove for it at the same time he did. They grabbed it. She placed a hand over the jewel, trying to pry it out.
"It's over." He growled. She concentrated and poured the power of all the elements through her hand.
"For once, we agree." Beneath her hand, the Silmaril and the crown exploded. She was knocked to her back, shielded by the elements. Morgoth was not so lucky. His screams of torment echoed through the castle and the surrounding land.
The Dark Elves stopped fighting at the screams of torment coming from the castle. They knew the screams did not belong to the queen. They had heard her screams before. Around them, the Balrogs fell, no longer having the power to remain in the world. Anil turned sharply towards the castle. She was the only one who knew those screams. She rushed back through the ranks, calling a retreat. There was no way they were going to win now. She had to stop the queen before she destroyed herself. She had to become the queen if she were to finish what he had started. She ran into the castle and to the throne room. She didn't hear the Elf who had followed her. She was about to enter the room when the sword went through her body.
She turned and saw a blonde Elf with gray eyes covered in gore. He was holding the sword that had run her through. Blood gurgled in her mouth. "That is for taking her from me." He whispered. He pulled the blade out and she fell to the floor.
He opened the door and rushed into the room and found her on the floor in the middle of it, the shards of a Silmaril and metal next to her hand. He rushed to her and pulled her close. She stirred and opened her gray eyes. Faint light appeared in them. "You came." She whispered.
"Of course, Melamin. I will always come for you." He held her close, not caring that his armor was covered in blood and gore. He tore the crown from her head. Her black hair flowed over his arm.
"Thank you." She whispered.
"Come, Feywen. Let's get you outside so Aragorn can heal you."
"No, Glorfindel. It's too late now. Just stay with me."
"What do you mean?"
"Give me the Silmaril." He did and she focused and crushed it in her hand.
"Feywen, what do you mean?"
"I am dying, Glorfindel. I have been for years now. Ever since Morgoth stripped my mother's blood from me. This didn't help either." She gestured to her clenched hand. "That is why I had to give you up. Better a broken promise than a broken heart." He smiled. Those were the same words she had used against Aragorn when they had sheltered in Lothlórien centuries ago. "I love you."
"I love you, Melamin. And I always will." He kissed her forehead as the light faded from her eyes and he felt the breath leave her body. The black dress turned dove white and the shards of the Silmaril fell from her hand. He picked her up and carried her out. The Dark Elves were all dead, destroyed when Feywen destroyed the second Silmaril. The Elves and Men and Dwarves watched as he walked from the dark castle, Feywen's body leaning against his chest in his arms. No one was awed by the fact that the blood was not staining the white material. Her hair made a black frame around her face, finally at peace. Legolas and Aragorn rushed up to her.
"Give her here, Glorfindel." Aragorn said. "I can heal her."
"She is past healing." Glorfindel said and kept walking. In the distance stood Gandalf and Shadowfax's descendant, waiting with the descendant of Glorfindel's horse, Asfaloth. He handed the body to Gandalf, cleaned his armor, mounted the horse, and took Feywen's body back. Gandalf mounted his horse and the two rode away. Aragorn took charge and directed the Elves and the Men in looking for survivors and their dead. The Dwarves looked for their own and for those of their allies. Legolas stood with his Elves. He ordered them back to Mirkwood, planning on following them shortly.
"Legolas!" He looked and was stunned to see Carolani running towards him. "Where is Glorfindel? Did he find Feywen?"
"He did."
"And,"
"And Feywen is dead. Glorfindel and Gandalf rode west with her body." Carolani placed a comforting hand on his shoulder for a moment and then left to command the Elves of Rivendell with Elladan and Elrohir. Celeborn stopped her and asked the same question. She gave him the answer that Legolas had given her. Within the hour, news had spread that their champion had died in the battle against their enemy. The Elves of Rivendell and Lórien mourned the loudest as they had personally known her. The Men bared their heads on the march back to Gondor in respect. King Aragorn mourned freely. The Dwarves said nothing as they disappeared back to their mountain. Only the Dwarf king lingered long enough to say farewell to the Elf lords and Aragorn.
In the north, news of her death reached the Dúnedain months later, at the arrival of Gandalf and Glorfindel. Halbarad, chief of the Dúnedain, wept at the sight of her body wrapped in cotton, leaning against Glorfindel. A statue of her crest was placed in the Shire so the Hobbits would know who had saved them. Nardin, Nardil and her children, and the dagger Aragorn had given her were placed in the Hall of Fire where her story had been painted on the walls.
Glorfindel stayed near the hall where his beloved's body rested. A day before she was to be burned, the Dwarves arrived in Rivendell. He met with them. "I welcome you, Gimli, son of Thrain. You honor Feywen with your presence at her funeral."
"It is an honor for me to be here, Elf Lord. I have brought a gift for the Lady Celebrant, made by my own hands." A Dwarf walked forward with a cushion. On it rested a gold circlet. Gimli lifted the circlet off the cushion and Glorfindel saw a white stone in the shape of a teardrop hanging in the front, where the middle of the forehead would be. Glorfindel took it in his hands.
"What is this? Is this what I think it is?"
"Yes, Lord Glorfindel. It is a shard of the Arkenstone."
"But that was buried with King Thorin in the Third Age."
"Yes," the Dwarf king said. "There was a meeting. The Lords of Elves, myself, and the kings of Men all gathered to discuss the Lady Celebrant. We decided to make her High Queen of Middle Earth. After the meeting, we, that is us Dwarves, prayed to our gods and Thorin's spirit. We were granted permission to take a piece of the Arkenstone to give to the High Queen." Glorfindel looked at the gold circlet with the white teardrop.
"Why make her High Queen?"
"A Wizard, in our minds, put each of us in her place. Each of us failed to give up everything to save the rest of Middle Earth. She alone made the sacrifice by taking the poisoned jewels' destruction upon herself." Glorfindel looked at his dead wife's body, so peaceful in death. "Even now, our master stone crafters are making a statue of her to be placed here in Rivendell." Glorfindel handed the crown to the dwarf.
"You honor her, King Gimli. Place this crown upon her head." Glorfindel and Gimli walked to the body. Glorfindel gently lifted her head so the dwarf could place the crown. When they stepped away, Glorfindel's breath caught. She was so beautiful and the shard of the Arkenstone made into a teardrop only added to her beauty. "I will see you in the morning, King under the Mountain." Gimli nodded and walked away.
He stood stoically as Elladan and Elrohir carried the litter with her body to the pyre that had been prepared the day before. Next to him stood Gandalf and Gimi. Legolas and Aragorn and Éomer stood across from them. Celeborn was behind him and Carolani next to him. Once the body had been placed, Elladan and Elrohir stood with a trio of Hobbits. One of them, the one who had not gone to Gondor, had the brooch Feywen had given to Samwise Gamgee at the end of the last war. He was handed the torch. In the trees, an Elf began to sing. Glorfindel touched the fire to the wood and the flames began to burn the wood. Tears filled his eyes as the flames consumed the woman he loved above all. Around his neck was the locket he had given her. He couldn't bear to burn it. He would place it in the Hall of Fire with her weapons, the symbol of his love for the High Queen.
When the fire finally died down, the Hobbit with the brooch stepped forward. "I know I did not know her very well, but my family has told of her ever since the beginning of the age. This brooch was passed down in my family for this entire age. It was given to Samwise Gamgee, my ancestor, after the War of the Ring. With your permission, Lord Glorfindel, I wish to scatter her ashes to the elements that loved her as well." Glorfindel nodded. The Hobbit whispered to the brooch and the wind stirred lightly. The pile of ashes was separated into fourths. Fire burned on one fourth. The wind picked up two piles and dropped one in the river before continuing on its way. When the fire burned out, there was only one pile of the ashes left.
"These," Glorfindel said, scooping them into the urn in his hands, "will be buried next to her mother." No one argued with him as he took the urn and walked into her favorite glade where a hole had been dug next to the statue of her mother. He placed the urn and covered it, placing a seed in the ground before he was done. "I love you. Forever."
There is one more chapter. An afterwards of sorts. By the way, the Wizard they mention is not Gandalf, but one of the blues. Thanks for reading. Can't wait for your reviews.