Isolde, fueled by her anger, attacked the witch ruthlessly, noticing for the first time the shiny black armor that she wore. Aglaramarth only smiled, blocking every blow with the greatest of ease. Isolde, realizing her attempts were futile, stepped back a bit. She thought back to the wisdom of King Ellesar; back to when she was just a child and she and Eldarion would fight him with wooden swords in the woods. A calm mind makes for a steady hand he had told them. Isolde closed her eyes for a moment, blocking out the cries of battle. She took a couple deep breaths. When she opened them again, she found the queen standing a couple of meters away, looking at her curiously. Isolde glanced at the blood-stained sword in her hands, feeling a sort of comfort from it, as though its previous owner was standing there, guiding her along. The queen grew impatient.

"Pick up your weapon!" she spat. Isolde did just that, and the queen stepped forward. Their movements became almost dance-like, as they spun and ducked beyond the reach of each other's blades. Isolde slowly found herself growing more and more exhausted, not yet used to such heavy armor. The queen noticed this and laughed, shoving Isolde to the ground. Aglaramarth towered over Isolde, blade at her chin. It was at that moment that King Ellesar looked to the dead winged beast that was strewn on the battlefield. He saw the witch-queen was distracted and started walking towards her.

"You humans are weak. And you, my dear Isolde, are a fool. How could you think for even a moment that you could destroy me? I am more powerful than you can possibly imagine! Now, do us both a favor and die," The witch raised her sword above her head and Isolde prepared herself for the blow that would end her life.

"Aglaramarth!" Ellesar cried out, still unable to see what held her attention. The queen looked up. Isolde sprang into action, kicking the witch back and springing to her feet. Ellesar, seeing for the first time who it was that Aglaramarth was fighting, broke out into a run. The queen glared at Isolde. She flew at her, throwing blow after blow with her sword, blinded by her fury. Isolde saw her chance, elbowing Aglaramarth in the face. For a fleeting moment, the witch was stunned. In one swift movement, Isolde kicked the sword from her hand, grabbed the queen in what seemed like a one-armed embrace and stabbed her sword up through her middle, right beneath her chest-plate.

There was a pause, and then Aglaramarth let out a shrill wail. All on the battlefield heard it and many fell to their knees, clutching their head. Isolde screamed, clenching her eyes shut in a vain attempt to block out the piercing cry. She felt a slow trickle of blood leak from the ear closest to Aglaramarth's face. Gradually, the witch fell silent. Isolde felt the queen's free arm tighten around her, and as she tried to pull away, a sharp pain flared in her lower back. Ellesar, who was only a few yards away, could only watch in horror as Aglaramarth twisted the dark dagger deeper into Isolde's back before wrenching it out forcefully. As the queen pulled them both to their knees, she grabbed the back of Isolde's head. Their foreheads met and they stared into each other's eyes. The look of shock was still plastered on Isolde's face as she listened to Aglaramarth's final words.

"Blood for blood," she whispered, "Must keep my promises," And with that, the witch-queen slumped to the ground, dead. The goblin army, sensing that they no longer had a leader, turned and fled, leaving only the thousands of men to cheer at the horns sounding their victory. Isolde stood shakily, looking at the world that seemed to spin all around her. She took a couple of steps forward, dragging her sword along the ground. Her vision blurred a bit and she fell backwards in what felt like slow motion. Gentle hands caught her before her head hit the ground and as she opened her eyes, she met the gaze of the king. He cradled her in his arms, brushing her hair out of her face.

"I'm so sorry," she whispered. "I'm sorry I took matters into my own hands but…I had to do this," Ellesar raised his hand to her lips, silencing her.

"I understand," He replied. He felt Isolde shudder lightly against him. His hand reached instinctively to her wound. She stopped him, catching his hand in her own. She nodded her head, smiling weakly.

"I doubt even your healing hands could fix this now," she murmured. Ellesar watched as her eyes widened, looking right through him. Knowing he had left her sight, he stroked the top of her hand with his thumb, letting her know he was still there.

"What do you see?" he whispered. Isolde's eyes gradually filled with tears, leaving long streaks down her face as they washed away the dirt that was there.

"I see a large room, filled with tall pillars that reach clear to the ceiling…It is so bright. And there is a woman; She is beckoning me towards her," Isolde suddenly smiled gently. "She says she is my mother," Ellesar squeezed her hand reassuringly.

"Go to her Isolde," he whispered. A moment passed and Ellesar felt one last breath leave her before she went still. He sighed sadly and let his fingers slide down the length of her face, gently closing the faded emerald eyes that no longer held life. He tenderly raised her forehead to his lips before laying her gently to the ground

Eldarion, who was not far off, grew uneasy at the sight of many of the soldiers gathering in one area. They had formed a circle and as he approached, he noticed that many had removed their helmets and had their eyes downcast. Fearing for his father, he started pushing through the crowd. They parted for him and he saw to his relief that Ellesar was kneeling on the ground, but seemed unharmed. He then saw the figure lying on the disheveled grass. He cried out to her, falling to his knees, but there was no answer. He held her to his chest, burying his face into her hair and wept openly. Ellesar felt his eyes mist at the sight of his son's anguish. A short while later, a soldier quietly brought a couple of horses over to them. Ellesar placed a comforting hand on Eldarion's shoulder. His son's red-rimmed eyes looked up to him and he nodded sadly.

Slowly, he lifted Isolde's body, cradling her in his arms. With some help, he got on his horse, with Isolde on front of him. Holding her up with one arm across her chest, he began moving his horse slowly through the sea of armor-clad men. Ellesar gently picked up Isolde's sword, and mounting the other horse, rode alongside his son. The soldiers backed away, allowing them to pass. They only stopped once when Eomer approached. Eomer gazed mournfully at his late niece and grasped her cool hand for a moment before letting them continue. As the two reached the edge of the battlefield, they kicked their horses into a gallop. They didn't stop riding until they reached the gates of Gondor.

Faramir, who had been staring wistfully out his balcony, was told of the king and prince's arrival by a guard. Throwing aside the scraps of bandages he had been grasping, he ran out to the citadel. There he saw Ellesar, who had already dismounted his horse, guiding the limp body of Isolde down from Eldarion's. Faramir caught sight of the blood-stained patch of clothing on her back and understood; Isolde was gone. Merry and Pippin burst through the doors, followed quickly my Arwen just as Faramir lifted his child from Ellesar's caring arms and sank to his knees. The three slowly approached as Ellesar placed his consoling hands on Faramir's shoulders. Faramir, who had begun to sob, could only stare longingly at the pale face of his daughter. Pippin thought to himself how many years ago, Faramir himself lay on the same stone-covered ground, mourned by his father. Although, this time, there would be no healing through simple medicine. No, this time all they could give her was a place to sleep eternally.

Just one small chapter left guys...