Chapter Thirty-Four

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"Open the gate!" Legolas heard the soldiers shout in a chorus when they spied them from the wall's battlements. He had just cleared the tree-lining, beyond the forest onto the plains, still clutching Willow's limp body in his arms. 

The city was far enough away that he could reach forward, close one eye and cover the soldiers standing guard with the finger of his outstretched arm. He could see them dotting the gate barbican and on either side of the towers around the Great Gate. Their suits of armor winking in the moonlight, as it cast against the dark hewn steel. 

He heard it before he saw it. The loud groan of the heavy metal doors echoed as the tower guard pushed the gates open. The Great Gate itself was made of large rolling doors made with mithril by Gimili and his kin, the dwarves of Erebor. 

It was set between towers and bastions of indomitable stone. They were once made of iron and steel but in the great Battle of Pelennor Fields, Sauron's host attempted to break the Great Gate with a hundred-foot battering ram named after Morgoth's Warhammer 'Grond'. Just before dawn, they succeeded, the battering ram smashed the Great Gate three times while the Witch-king of Angmar spoke words of power. He rode through the Great Gate where Gandalf awaited him but ran when the Rohirrim arrived.

 Behind the Gate was a spacious courtyard that ended at the base of the great "ship-keel" of stone, which cut through most of the city. Before the city gates lied a short avenue which led to the intersection of roads in the fields of Pelennor where Legolas raced to get them to safety. 

Just as he thought them safe, his breath left him with sudden a woosh. The war mace of the Dark Lord made contact with his chest. The force sent his body sailing through the air and Willow flying from his arm.  

A deep excruciating pain started there at the point of impact, where the sound wallop was laid to his chest. His eyes were wide as saucers as he flew back, his head hit the ground with a sickening cracking sound. An overwhelming pain started in the back of his head but there was no time to tend it, he had to find Willow. 

She saw her sprawled awkwardly a few feet away from him. He commanded his body to move but to his dismay, he was not obeyed. He saw his love's eyes flutter open. The warm amber glow of her doe shaped eyes set on him.

He did not want the pain of his body to betray the look on his face. He wanted to hold on to hope that they could survive. He tried reaching her mentally, but her thoughts were all jumbled. Her face was a mixture of fear and confusion. Her eyes were focused on something coming towards them that he could not see. She scrambled to all fours, grabbing at his wrist trying in vain to pull his weight to her. When his body did not budge, she clutched his armor, kissing him sweetly on the lips one final time. 

A sudden sharp pain came then, he felt a whetted piece of steel through his mithril chainmail and leather jerkin. The pain was blinding, he very nearly gave in to the sweet embrace of unconsciousness when it started on low on his side and washed over him. He felt flecks of blood hit his face like warm rain. The thick sticky substance pooled underneath him, soaking his dark green tunic. 

There was naught but silence around him and he felt as if time had slowed down. He heard every step of Sauron's heavy footfalls, the soft sound of rain ringing against metal, and the rhythmic clinging noise as a suit of armor was mobilized. 

Willow's soft whimpering drew his attention again. Sauron made it beyond the barrier, or someone had let him in, either way, if there was no help, he feared these might be his last moments with her. Sauron stepped over Legolas moving towards Willow.

Legolas clenched her hand with what little strength he had. Her eyes were red as the tears came unbound. The wind picked up wildly around them. Strong air currents pulled at him, threatening to drag his body away, but Willow held him fast. Thunderclouds rolled overhead and rain poured down in earnest. Within moments he was soaked through. Willow was doing this; she was purposefully letting her emotions run wild. 

Her eyes suddenly turned to Sauron. Thrusting her arm forward with her palm up, in a move that would signal 'halt' to anyone else, Willow directed a tempest at him. The wind blew ferociously picking him up in a cyclone, battering him and tossing him several feet away. 

He stood up as if nothing happened, marching towards them undaunted by the threat of Willow's power. Some would say, he even approached them languidly. Loitering, knowing he had the upper hand. He wanted them to spend what would be their final moments in sheer terror, anticipating what he might do. It was these moments he treasured most. What he had not anticipated was Willow. 

All at once, her eyes drained of color, as she watched him. Her black hair plumed upwards, rippling furiously in the wind. Legolas watched in awe has the thick strains changed from black to snow-white, from the ends of her hair towards her scalp. As if white paint slowly dripped down each strand.  She clutched her fist hotly. The lush grass burned away underneath them as her power swelled and white-blue flames wrapped around her. 

"Let me finish him. It is a mercy. Let me end his suffering. At least, he will live as a wraith." Sauron said mockingly, his voice sounding like piss over fire. 

"You touch him, and you die." She said her voice booming, like thunder. She was seething barely containing herself. She wanted to rip into him destroy him till nothing remained. 

"Morgoth wants you for a wife, " He laughed then, the sound sent chills up Willow's spine. "He is foolish and sentimental, which is why he will not be king for long. You and your mate will serve me as my wraiths and join in my bid to overthrow him.  I rule for all time until the ending of the world." 

"This is your plan," Willow scoffed. "When Morgoth finds out he'll kill you."

"Pity, he shall never hear it from your lips." He raced towards her then his weapon raised high above his head. He was faster than anything his size had a right to be. He swung wildly at her, but Willow did a slight pivot and danced out of the mace's path. She concentrated her energy and directed a massive lightning bolt through his suit of armor. The bolt was as wide as two men across. She had hoped to give him a taste of hell before she sent him packing off there. 

He made a guttural sound as he twitched involuntarily and collapsed to the ground. The metal of his suit made for an effective conductor. It glowed red hot, searing his flesh. The nauseating smell of burning flesh and hair filled her nostrils. She wanted to wretch. She watched him unmoving on the ground for a moment for signs of life before racing back to Legolas. 

He was as pale as spoiled milk lying face down in the dirt. A gaping wound was opened on his side near to the bone as his life's blood spilled forth. He was barely breathing. The tears came again, and she was helpless to stop them, but the rain helped to mask her sadness. 

She heard more boots approaching, the soft sucking sound they made as they pulled from the mud grew lower with each step. She knew the city guard would bring a litter to carry him to the healing houses. She did not bother to look at them there was no time. She could feel his life draining away and with it her life as well.  She pulled at his shoulder, trying to turn him over. He flopped lifelessly onto his back. She would not lose him, not like this. A resolute look set on her features as her grief gave way to determination.

She remembered the fire she used in the cave to heal him and hoped that it would work again. She clasped both her hands over the wound and focused. The flames around her gently licked at his wounds and the flesh began to mend itself, from the bottom up. It pulled tightly together zipping closed with pale white flesh. It had almost closed completely. When a commotion started in the field. She heard the distressed cries of the soldiers. Her eyes glanced quickly to where Sauron had fallen but he was gone. 

Without warning, she felt something hit her hard. The blood-stained metal tip of Sauron's mace pierced through her chest. Her breath came in ragged quick spurts. She coughed, the metallic taste of blood filling her mouth. She looked on Legolas one last time as everything faded to black. 


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