୨⎯ Chapter 18⎯୧
"A Hero's Sacrifice"

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AS THE heavy doors of the fortress swing open, I stand behind Legolas, watching with a mixture of anticipation and dread as hordes of Orcs pour into the building like a dark, malevolent tide. My fingers grip tightly around Legolas's wrist, seeking reassurance in his presence as we brace ourselves for the impending battle.

To my right, Aine and Khellan stand side by side, their expressions resolute as they prepare to face the oncoming onslaught. Their arms are stretched wide, ready to confront whatever horrors come our way. Amidst the chaos, I catch sight of Caspian standing beside Khellan, his stance firm despite the weariness etched into his features. He is one of the few remaining fae warriors, a testament to the fierce bravery with which they have fought.

Despite the overwhelming odds against us, I feel a swell of pride in my chest. Proud to be Fae, proud to stand alongside these courageous warriors.

With a thunderous roar, King Theoden and his men charge forward, their swords flashing in the dim light as they cut down any Uruks foolish enough to stand in their path. Legolas and I join the fray, our movements synchronized as we fight side by side. I call upon my powers of nature, hurling rocks at nearby orcs, while Legolas uses his bow with deadly precision, careful not to hit me in the process.

Amidst the chaos, Aragorn's whispered words draw my attention, and I follow his gaze to the crest of a hill. There, bathed in the radiant light of the sun, stands Gandalf the White atop his mighty steed, Shadowfax.

"Gandalf," I breathe, awe and relief flooding through me at the sight of our powerful ally.

Gandalf's voice rings out across the battlefield, "Theoden King stands alone."

But just as despair threatens to take hold, Eomer rides up beside Gandalf, drawing his sword with unwavering determination. "Not alone. Rohirrim!" he cries, rallying his troops to the King's side.

The Riders of Rohan surge forward, their thundering hooves echoing across the battlefield as they charge down the hill with unmatched ferocity. The Uruks brace themselves, but the blinding light of the sun disrupts their focus, giving our allies the advantage.

With a deafening clash, the Riders of Rohan collide with the Uruk-Hai, their combined might overwhelming the enemy forces. Theoden and his men fight with renewed vigor, inspired by the arrival of their allies and the prospect of victory against seemingly insurmountable odds.

As the battle turns in our favor, Theoden's voice rings out, "Victory! We have victory!" Cheers erupt among the men of Rohan, their jubilant celebrations filling the air.

Exhausted but relieved, I rest my head against Legolas's shoulder as he leads us back to the safety of the fortress walls. However, our moment of triumph is short-lived as I catch sight of Aine and Khellan huddled together, their expressions drawn and somber.

Ignoring Legolas's calls, I dismount hastily and rush over to them. My heart sinks as I see Caspian lying motionless on the ground, blood pooling beneath him. Aine's tears flow freely as she tries to staunch the flow of blood from his wounds, while Khellan's voice is choked with emotion as he murmurs words of comfort.

"Caspian, stay with us," I plead, kneeling beside them, my heart heavy with grief.

Despite our efforts, Caspian's strength is fading. With his last breath, he whispers, "Thank you," a final testament to his courage and sacrifice.

As Caspian's life slips away, I feel a profound sense of sorrow wash over me. Turning away from the heartbreaking scene, I bury my face in my hands, tears streaming down my cheeks. Legolas's arms wrap around me, offering silent comfort in the face of our shared loss.

Later, as the sun sets, we gather to bid farewell to our fallen comrades. I step forward, my voice trembling with emotion as I begin to sing a haunting melody in the ancient tongue of the Fae, a solemn tribute to those who gave their lives.

Aragorn speaks, his words resonating through the clearing, "We gather here to honor the courage and sacrifice of those who gave their lives in defense of our cause. Their memory will live on in our hearts for all eternity."

As my song reaches its climax, a gentle breeze sweeps through the clearing, causing the fallen leaves to flutter and dance in the air. In a breathtaking display, the fae among the fallen transform into delicate foliage, their essence blending seamlessly with the natural world.

"They return to the earth, finding peace in the eternal embrace of nature," I say softly, a solemn tribute to our fallen brethren.

As we stand atop the crest of the hill, our weary eyes turn eastward, where the ominous silhouette of Mordor looms on the horizon. Gandalf's words weigh heavily upon us, "Sauron's wrath will be terrible, his retribution swift."

"The true battle for Middle-Earth is only just beginning.

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