Hi. Just a heads up, I decided to leave out Halbarad, the Grey Company, and everything. Not like I've been book-verse anyways. I wanted to throw them in here, but everything I wrote with them just felt... bleh. I didn't like it. So I didn't include it.

Another short chapter. Just don't feel like writing right now and I don't feel like waiting. I'm lazy.

We sat in a mutual silence, our minds locked in limbo. Not much time had passed since the gates were broken, but my mind began to run.

Collin sat in the corner of the room, his head bent down, forehead resting on his knees- praying, if I had to guess. His faith was strong- as strong as it was when we'd arrived in Middle-earth. He was doing his best to remain calm, and to me it seemed as though if he were any more calm he'd be dead. I only wished that I shared his ability to breathe so easily.

Boromir, having grown tired of the restraints of his bed, had again gone to the balcony to stare down upon his crumbling city. The city below was covered in a thick, smoky haze, and I began to grow antsy. I knew that I couldn't bear to sit idle any longer, but my mind couldn't seem to think up any new ideas to help. Still, I needed to stand. I needed to move my legs. I needed to do something.

I stood, not quite knowing where I would be going or what I needed to do. There just seemed to be a nagging at my back, urging me out of the door. Boromir called after me, asking me where I was going. I didn't know, but I assured him that I wouldn't be going far, and urged him to stay put when he offered to accompany me. I knew that if he walked out of the room he'd begin to feel compelled to help in ways that were not physically healthy for his state. He needed to stay put.

Collin remained silent, lost in his own world.

As I walked through the hall the painful cries of the dying and wounded only seemed to grow louder and louder. Asides from the glow of a few torches, several of which were burned out, there was no real light. I ran my hand along the cold, stone wall, and guided myself down the dim corridor, wrapping my cloak about me tightly. There was an orange glow around the bend; the only place to go.

My eyes had been so focused on that point- the glow and the end of the hallway- that I had completely neglected to see the little girl sitting by a closed door. She called out to me with a simple 'hello,' yet the unexpected noise caused me to jump back with a gasp.

She watched me with wide, innocent eyes, her face the only thing visible in the darkness. I let out a relieved sigh.

"Sorry, milady." The girl almost whispered in a light voice. "I did not mean to frighten you."

I let out a short laugh- of all things to frighten me. "Don't worry, sweetie. I'm just a bit on edge. What are you doing all alone?"

The girl stood, revealing a blood-soaked cream gown, mixed with dust and torn near the hem. She was small, but could not have been more than seven or eight years old. Her dark hair fell about her face in messy chunks, and on her cheek there was a scabbing cut.

I did my best to act unsurprised, but her condition knocked me back a step. I hadn't left the room in ages, so the overall state of Gondor was unknown to me. I'd known that it was bad, but how bad?

Maternal instincts kicking in, I knelt down in front of her, questions leaving my lips as soon as my mind could think them.

"What happened to you? Is this your blood? Have the healers taken a look at you?"

"They were busy." She shook her head. "And there was a crowd. No one noticed me, but I dared not stay there. The bodies..." She cast a fearful glance towards the light and I gave her arms a comforting squeeze.

"Are you hurt?" I asked, and she shook her head.

"This is not my blood, I am fine. I think that it belonged to the man who helped me to escape. My mother left to go find my sister, she told me she would be back in a moment, but then the house began to crumble... And that's when the man came, and told me to run." She bit her lip, trying to hold back tears. "I am frightened."

My heart went out to the girl. I couldn't leave her alone, and was suddenly very glad to have left the room. "What is your name?" I asked.

"Nesta."

I smiled, taking her hand in mine. "Well, Nesta, my name's Sophie. Do you have anyone waiting for you?"

Just as she shook her head, I could heart Collin's voice crying out. "Sophie, Sophie?" He came down the hallway doing this odd limp-run. Upon seeing us he promptly turned around, calling back, "Hurry, come here!"

I looked back to Nesta, whose eyes had grown wide. "Don't worry, Nesta. Come with me for now and I'll take care of you. When all of this is over I promise, we will find your family."

She didn't argue, and willingly hurried to Boromir's room behind me. He and Collin were out on the balcony, both hopping up and down excitedly as much as their injuries allowed. I ran outside, following their gazes to the horizon.

It was unbelievable.

Although not as numerous as the enemy horde, Minds Tirith had acquired a horde of its own. The riders of Rohan had finally arrived, and their army consisted of countless warriors, ready to fight. It was the most beautiful thing I'd ever seen, and tears immediately began to spill from my eyes.

"Are those our men?" Nesta asked, standing beside me. I nodded, and without hesitation the young girl raised her voice with boundless joy. Collin and Boromir, unphased by the sudden appearance of the blood-soaked girl, quickly followed suit. Like two brothers at a sports match they hugged each other, careful to not hurt the other's wounds. Boromir turned to me and planted a kiss right on my forehead, and Collin, despite bring a stranger to her, lifted Nesta's hand in the air like a boxing champion.

It was beautiful, and hope was alive. If I could have, I would have loved to kiss every man on that field. Their presence was a testimony to the goodness of the world, and my love for Middle-earth grew to new heights. The only thing that killed my joy was the moment of sadness that chilled my soul as the army began their sprint towards the enemy.

Oh, Rohan- the place I considered my adopted homeland since I spent so much time there in my earlier years. It was the home of many of my friends, and the location of countless memories. Eomer was in that army. How many old friends would be riding to their deaths? What of James, Aragorn, Legolas, and Gimli? They would have joined the fight in a heartbeat. Though my hopes if surviving were high, my fears for those fighting grew. The battle had only just begun.