Aragorn was panicked, and very sad.

  His daughters had been killed. Faramir was trying to find out who. Eldarion was missing as well. They had seen naught of him for three days. Aragorn sat on his throne, doing nothing. He had lost the will to eat, speak, fight, even live. He was an empty shell.

  Arwen was next to him. She was in a similar state. Their children were dead and missing, and there was nothing either one could do. Faramir came in, breathless.
  "What is it, Faramir?" Aragorn asked, exhausted.

  "There is someone who would like to speak with you. Two people actually. Not even really people."

  Aragorn and Arwen instantly knew what he meant. They flew out of their seats and into the courtyard. Waiting for them there were Legolas and Gimli.

  "Aragorn!" Legolas shouted, running to him. Aragorn walked slowly. Arwen would not follow.

  "I heard the news, mellon nin. I am sorry." Legolas said. Aragorn merely nodded. "We've come to talk some sense into you, lad." Gimli said. Aragorn walked away. "Not this time, Gimli." The two followed Aragorn into the building. They would not give up on him. "You cannot abandon your people!" Legolas shouted. "You must see with clear eyes!"

  "Do you know what it is like?" Aragorn suddenly turned on him. "To have a wife? Children? To live in constant fear of loosing them? No! You cannot help me!"

  "You only lose what you guard closest." Legolas said. "Gondor needs a king!"

  "I cannot rule Gondor in this state." Aragorn said. Legolas sighed. Gimli followed him. Aragorn was ignoring them as best he could.

()()()()

  "You cannot ignore everything forever." Arwen said, her voice laced with grief. As usual, Aragorn said nothing. Legolas and Gimli sat in the throne room, watching everything unfold.

  "There is one thing we could do." Aragorn said after a while. He got up, and began walking to the bedrooms. In the room, the bodies had been moved away, but the stench of blood seemed to taint the air. Aragorn began to look around. There were no signs, even for a Ranger, to figure out the murder.

  A soldier came in, sweating. "Lord Aragorn! Come to the overhang!"

  Once there, Aragorn's eyes filled with fear. Beyond the mountains, there was a shadow of sulfur and lava. Mount Doom was erupting again. Arwen held her hand. They both looked out on the horizon as flashes of gold and orange illuminated their silhouettes.

Legolas stared, no emotion on his face. Gimli had sorrow. "It has been twenty-three years." Arwen said. "Now it begins anew." As she said that, war cries could be heard from the mountains. Orcs!
 
All Aragorn's weariness was gone in a flash. "Summon the troops! Raise arms! Mordor is awake again!" His voice rang through the city. Men rushed to the armory. Women and children were being taken into the castle for safety. But unknown to all, a figure crept away from the frightened wives and children. She wore a black cloak that covered her face. A curtain of long, black hair could be seen. She dashed into the ranks of men.
 
   Aragorn donned his armor. Gimli could not find any that fit him, and Legolas wore none. They rushed out to meet the orcs. It was a massive six thousand, but petty compared with the War of the Ring. Aragorn looked at the men. Arwen was watching from the overhang.
 
"Men of Gondor! Armies have not been seen from the Black Land in years! But fear not! We shall crush them like thin glass! They will be no more! Fight, raise arms, men of Minas Tirith!" He was too worried to give a proper speech.

  The men cheered, then rushed into battle. The orcs were stopped. But the soldiers were on horses. They charged into the ranks of orcs like they were wheat in a field. Swords clashed, men cried out in fury, orcs snarled, and Aragorn was fighting harder than he had ever in his life. But, all too slowly, he realized the orcs were separating him from the rest of the army.

  He tried to turn back, but he could not. Orcs fell before his sword, but more came. An orc met him, far from help's reach, mace in hand. Aragorn was scared. Legolas and Gimli could not reach him.

  "What do you want?" Aragorn shouted. "Why do you come from the waste of Mordor?" The hideous orc laughed, his yellow teeth showing through his translucent lips. "We come to kill every man, woman, and child!" He growled. Aragorn wasted no time. He lunged at the orc, but the orc swung his mace. It missed Aragorn by a hair.

He stabbed at the orc's heart, but hit the mace arm instead. The orc cried out. He swung with his other arm, which was almost as good. He caught Aragorn across the shoulder. Aragorn yelled, lunging at the orc, who dodged it. He brought his mace down hard on Aragorn's back. There was a sickening crunch. Aragorn could not get up. His arm swung Elendil hopelessly, making small cuts on the orc's feet and legs. He tasted blood. Aragorn tried to crawl away, but his back would not move.

He moved Elendil in a seemingly failed effort, but it did damage, cutting a deep gash in the orc's stomach. Blood dripped down his body. The orc still tried to kill Aragorn, who was rolling away from the mace strikes weakly.
 
   It was in that moment, when all hope seemed lost, someone stepped between Aragorn and the orc. The figure wore a black cloak and a sword with a sapphire blue blade. The orc laughed. "Who are you to challenge me?" he asked. The figure threw off her hood, a cascade of black hair tumbling to her waist. She held her sword in a fighting stance. "You know who I am." was all she said, in a voice so powerful, it made Aragorn's very soul freeze. She lunged at him, cutting his mace in two with her sword. He lunged for her, trying to strangle her. She grabbed his arm, and twisted it. There was a crack, and the arm went flying. The orc screamed. "Mercy! Mercy!" She gave him none. Her sword sank into his chest, and she pulled it out. The blade was stained with orc blood. The orc fell to the ground, dead. The last thing Aragorn remembered was her face, pale as moonbeams, picking him up, and carrying him back to Minas Tirith.