"Here you go, Ithilwen." Fiona plopped an envelope down in front of the elleth lounging in the gamer's chair doing an area tour of Tomb Raider: Legend. "Those pictures are done, and you don't have to say it. I know I was right. I've gotta go finish packing, so let me know what you think of them before I leave."

Ithilwen pressed pause on the controller, partly anxious about seeing the results and partly frustrated she couldn't find the gold treasure in Tokyo. Before Fiona had come in she had grown bored and abused the quick-play-scene, learning all the different ways to kill Lara. She knew her friend had talent, and she trusted her judgment, she just wasn't sure she could see what her mother and friend did. Neither one of them knew exactly how much Payne's words had hurt her self-esteem, and she didn't wish to open that can of worms, now that she was past caring about the mortal. The envelope flap wasn't glued, merely tucked inside, so all she had to do was run her finger under the tab and wedge it out.

The stack of pictures slid out of the envelope into her waiting lap, and as she started going through them, she noticed that Fiona had organized them by the order in which they were taken. One of Fiona's methods of picture-taking was to abuse the hell out of the shutter, which didn't always lead to the best pictures, but she didn't toss the worst. Instead, she sorted out the blurred shots and combined them into an archive on one sheet of photo paper. Sometimes it wasn't clear what the subject was, but the blurs made for an interesting collage effect.

The elleth was pleased, which surprised herself. She had imagined herself cringing as she flipped through them, but Fiona had made her look amazing. In the pictures she looked happy and enjoying herself...even the sexy pinup shots that she had been subjected to. Honestly! She wasn't ashamed or a prude, but she couldn't believe her friend had used Legolas as an excuse to take the pictures! They were friends! He wouldn't want to see pictures of her like that! ...Or would he? She stared at the photos in her lap. He was a male... She shook her head and snorted, carefully aligning the stack and setting it beside her on the discarded envelope. Ithilwen highly doubted he would.

In Minas Tirith, a small congregation was gathered in the great hall. Legolas, Eomer, Aragorn, Haldir, Elladan, and Elrohir were standing around the throne and steward's seat, currently occupied by Gimli, who was smoking his pipe.

"Frodo has passed beyond my sight. The darkness is deepening." His words did not sound reassuring to any of the warriors.

Aragorn was quick to reply. "If Sauron had the Ring, we would know it."

"It's only a matter of time." Gandalf still was pessimistic. "He has suffered a defeat, yes, but behind the walls of Mordor our enemy is regrouping."

Gimli exhaled a puff of smoke. "Let him stay there. Let him rot! Why should we care?"

Gandalf whipped around to face the dwarf, exasperated. "Because ten thousand Orcs now stand between Frodo and Mount Doom." Gimli fell silent, realizing his error. The wizard sighed. "I've sent him to his death."

"No," Aragorn said softly. "There is still hope for Frodo. He needs time and safe passage across the Plains of Gorgoroth. We can give him that."

"How?" Gimli asked.

"Draw out Sauron's armies. Empty his lands. Then we gather our full strength and march on the Black Gate." Gimli choked on his exhale, coughing.

"We cannot achieve victory through strength of arms." Eomer wasn't positive that Aragorn's idea would work. They had lucked out at Helms Deep, but many had fallen that day, and their numbers were even smaller and battle-worn now.

"Not for ourselves." Aragorn knew it was a suicide mission, at best. "But we can give Frodo his chance if we keep Sauron's Eye fixed upon us. Keep him blind to all else that moves."

"A diversion." Legolas realized quickly what Aragorn was intending.

Gimli chewed on his pipe, making the odds heard. "Certainty of death. Small chance of success. What are we waiting for?"

The twins looked to the dwarf and grinned, amused that he was attempting humor in the face of such a dire situation. Haldir frowned, thinking about what he would putting on the line to go off marching to what looked like certain death. He looked to the prince and made eye contact, silently telling him that Ithilwen would need to be informed. Haldir didn't want his daughter to know the specifics, but he couldn't bear the thought of her getting her hopes up of returning if they did not survive long enough to get there. Legolas nodded slightly in understanding. This wasn't a conversation he looked forward to.

Gandalf had pulled Aragorn aside. "Sauron will suspect a trap. He will not take the bait."

"Oh, I think he will." They still had possession of the Palantir that had tortured Pippin. He planned to make damn sure that Sauron noticed that the heir of Isildur had returned.

"I'm impressed. We're inside for once!"

Legolas laughed at Ithilwen's joke. "This is the great hall of Minas Tirith. We are in Gondor presently."

Ithilwen strolled around the large room in her bare feet, trying not to let the fabric trip her. "Gondor, huh?" She looked around at the architecture. "I take it you all made it through the scenic route alright?" she asked, referring to the Path of the Dead. "I was getting worried that I hadn't heard from you like I normally do." She teased him, knowing that his path did not give him enough opportunities for a rest that he could reach out to her through their connection.

"It was a tough battle." Legolas told her of the outcome with the Dead King, acquiring the fleet of Corsair ships, and the battle at Pelennor Fields. Ithilwen listened with rapt attention as he talked, feeling the grief of hearing that so many had perished, including the king of Rohan. "The end of the war is near, Ithilwen. I do not know in which favor it will turn."

"Where will you be going next?"

"We will ride with Aragorn to the Black Gate of Mordor. The two hobbits Frodo and Sam are making their way to the inside of the mountain, but Sauron will notice the location of the ring..."

"You are going to your deaths." Ithilwen stated, knowing where this conversation was going. Her voice cracked, against her wishes. She didn't want to let him see her cry.

Legolas felt his heart ache as he looked upon Ithilwen. "Death is not certain."

"Bullshit!" she snorted. "Each battle you've gotten into has progressively gotten worse! If the hobbits are that close to destroying the ring, you know that Sauron will pull out all the stops to keep that from happening!"

He was at a loss for words with her modern phrase, but he had to agree with her. Legolas looked at the small elleth standing before him, trying to control her emotions, but he could feel them. She radiated fear. Legolas pulled her to him, and instinctively she wrapped her arms around his chest in a tight grip, burying her head in his tunic so that he would not see her tears fall.

"I'm scared for you, Legolas! For all of you! I've already lost decades without Ada – the thought of losing both of you terrifies me beyond belief!"

The ache that he was feeling got a lot worse with her words. He couldn't deny that he wasn't anxious for what was to come. "Forgive me, Ithilwen. It was not my wish to upset you." He rubbed her back as she tried to get her emotions under control.

"I would have rather you told me than not, and be left wondering," she said with more confidence. She had mentally kicked herself for showing her tears in front of him again. Ithilwen loosened her grip enough to look up at him. "What do you think your chances are?"

Legolas continued to rub her back absentmindedly. "I think...that as long as we can hold Sauron's attention so the ring can be destroyed, we should prevail. We are outnumbered, but if the ring is gone then the cleanup of the darkness will not be as difficult." It was the truth, even if it was worded nicer than the prospects really sounded. "I will be damned if I do not keep my promise to you," he added with more assurance, receiving a small smile in return. As he looked at the elleth in his arms, he knew he needed to cheer her up, or at the very least distract her. The wheels started turning and he was struck with an idea, but could he do it? Was it right? "Ithilwen, I have a couple requests from you."

"Yes?"

"For starters, do not let the war consume your thoughts. Keep yourself occupied like I know you need to. I could not bear the thought of your sitting and worrying all the time."

Ithilwen nodded. "I can do that. What was your other request?"

Legolas could not hide his grin. "A kiss from a beautiful elleth before I ride to battle."

Out of all the possibilities, that was no where in Ithilwen's mental database of requests she figured that he would ask. All signs of previous distress were gone now, replaced by a faint blush and sputtering in disbelief. She tried to get out of his grasp, but the elf had no intentions of loosening his hold. She was stuck.

"W-what?"

"A kiss," he repeated, still smiling. He had meant to keep a straight face, but her reaction had made it very difficult. "Maidens entangled with warriors would bestow a token of favor to the men riding to battle."

"But- but- I'm not entangled with you!"

"Actually, you are." His grin widened. "You are in my arms. Does that not qualify as entangled?"

Ithilwen's face became more pink. "That's besides the point!"

"You did express concern over my well-being earlier," he continued. "Do I not deserve a favor from a concerned maiden?"

She wanted to open her mouth and supply a witty comeback, but nothing came up of use. He was right. She had nearly broken down just earlier about the prospect of him going to battle. Ithilwen had watched his cheeky grin grow as she had gotten more and more flustered from the blunt request, and suddenly knew how to wipe that smile off his face.

"Alright, Legolas. I will kiss you. For luck," she adds with a smirk.

For a moment, Ithilwen was smug that she had caught him off guard; payback for his request making her get flushed. But then he smiled again, and she knew that she would have to make good on her word. Legolas leaned in as she did. Her heart was beating erratically, and she couldn't figure out why. She had kissed guys before, but somehow this was different. They were getting closer, and she could feel his breath-

"It's hard to stay up / It's been a long, long day / And you got the sandman at the door / But hang on, leave the TV on / And let's do it anyway / It's ok / You can always sleep through work tomorrow, OK? / Hey hey / Tomorrow's just your future yesterday..."

Ithilwen hit the floor beside her bed with a thump, wildly looking around her for the source of the noise. Her ears turned to the television in her room. It was after midnight, she concluded, noticing that the program was a late-night talk show. She had dozed off earlier than she expected to, but being home alone left little opportunity for conversation. The remote lay on her bed still, and it occurred to her that she must have rolled over on it and turned it back on. She scratched her head in irritation, trying to remember what had happened in her dream before she woke up. She had almost kissed Legolas, she recalled, feeling her cheeks heat up. She didn't understand why she felt so flustered by the idea, unless it was because they were friends. Ithilwen groaned, banging her head on the side of her mattress. She really hoped he'd forgive her for falling short on her promise.

In Minas Tirith, Legolas was shaken awake by the elleth's father. "It is time to wake, mellon," the marchwarden spoke. "Did you speak to Ithilwen?"

Legolas didn't feel like he could speak in confirmation, so he nodded. Father or not, being woken up at that moment had irritated the prince. He was so close! Being in his situation, he was not around any elleth, and even fewer women. His request had been in jest, to make her forget about her worries, so he was really caught off guard when she agreed to kiss him. Not that he would have argued.

"I'm sorry?" he looked up at the marchwarden, who was looking at him peculiarly.

"I asked you what my daughter said when you spoke of the impending battle?"

"Oh." For a minute there he thought Haldir was reading his thoughts. Then he realized that he probably wouldn't be breathing if he had. "She is scared," he replied. "She is worried for everyone's safety. I assured her that we would not go into the Halls of Mandos without a fight, and I suggested that she keep herself distracted so that she won't sit and worry herself into a stupor."

Haldir nodded."If she has become anything like my beloved, she would do that."

All able-bodied men were astride horses leaving the enclosure of Minas Tirith. Aragorn was leading the procession in king's armor. Around him were his closest companions: Gandalf and Pippin, Legolas and Gimli, Eomer and Merry, Haldir, Elladan, and Elrohir. It was a silent ride for the Host of the West.

In the Houses of Healing, Eowyn stood in front of a window, looking out at the city. She nursed her bandaged arm with disgust, frustrated that she could not join the others. Gimli had visited with the news of their plan before the departure, and she had desperately wanted to go. Despite her heroics at Pelennor, she didn't feel like she had served her purpose. Eowyn harbored some guilt in that she could not save her uncle, and once Eomer had finished chastising her for her actions, he had convinced her that nothing could have been done.

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw the Gondorian Faramir approach her side. "The city has fallen silent," she told him. "There is no warmth left in the sun. It grows so cold.."

"It's just the damp of the first spring rain. I do not believe this darkness will endure." He had sought her company when she was well enough to move about the Houses of Healing, and commended her on her valiant efforts in the previous battle. Her demeanor on their first meeting was grim, but each day she looked to be in better spirits. They were lost souls that were misunderstood and underestimated by their kin; it was only natural that they seek comfort from the other person.

Faramir took her delicate hand in his, and Eowyn smiled at him, resting her head against his shoulder.

"Where are they?" Pippin murmured from behind Gandalf. Whether he meant Sauron's forces or his kin, no one was entirely sure. They had crossed the deserted plains and finally saw the Black Gate on the horizon. The seven horses leading the armies of free men continued on toward the gate of imminent hell.

Ithilwen was attaching grommets to her corset-cloak the following day. Try as she might, the distraction was not working, even as tedious as it was. Everything felt eerily calm, and that did nothing to soothe her nerves. Just knowing that they were going to the heart of the evil scared her, and not knowing the certainty of the outcome left her shaking. Ithilwen sniffled, trying to fight back tears as she contemplated the possible scenarios. She couldn't let herself get upset; she had to think positive! Her stomach growled, and she got up from her seat on the floor to fix a quick lunch; she had been so busy she hadn't eaten since much earlier that morning. Ithilwen knew that she had to remain strong. If they were sharing bruises and cramps like handshakes now, it could have been possible that he could feel her emotions just as easily, and Ithilwen would never forgive herself if Legolas had become distracted on the battlefield because of her.

A/N: Clearly, I am a horrible person, and I'm sure the shippers will agree. And not just about the lack of an update, either. Sorry guys, but the weather's been nice, and I've been out doing yardwork, so I've been too exhausted to finish the chapter in one sitting. There's also a bit of a blur in the timeline (book and film) so this chapter essentially covers the two days that Fiona is away. That's why Ithilwen is by herself. Nothing particularly noteworthy is happening on her end of the connection right now, so the focus will be on the final fight right now. Let me know what you think, and if something's confusing just ask! I'll be happy to clear things up!