▌𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐓𝐡𝐢𝐫𝐭𝐲-𝐅𝐢𝐯𝐞 ━︎━︎ 𝐄𝐧𝐜𝐚𝐦𝐩𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭 ▌

━︎━︎━︎━︎𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐘 𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐄𝐃 𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐈𝐑 encampment, tents set up all around from the men that had arrived before them. 500 men had come from the Westfold, 300 more were coming from Fenmarch, and none from Snowborn had come. It was not a good number, Ellaria knew that. They rode up the mountain where their specific encampment was, away from the others. Ellaria climbed down from her horse, petting his mine and feeding him an apple. She turned her head when some the horses began whinnying, freaking out.

Ellaria walked over to one that was trying to pull away from it's rider, struggling in his grasp. Ellaria placed a hand on the horses snout, whispering to in elvish and running a calming hand down the side of it's neck. She spoke to the horse until it calmed, running her hand over it one more time before walking away. She made her way to Gimli and Legolas who were looking around the camp.

"The horses are restless and the men are quiet." Legolas noted, looking at Eomer as he approached them.

"They grow nervous in the shadow of the mountain," Eomer said.

Ellaria turned her head, her eyes finding a passage way going between the mountain. Gimli spoke first. "That road there, where does that lead?"

Legolas was the one who answered. "It is the road to the Dimholt, the door under the mountain."

Eomer added, "None who venture there ever return. That mountain is evil."

"That's comforting," Ellaria mumbled. She walked away from them, approaching the passageway.

"We say it is dangerous, and she goes towards it." Gimli grumbled.

Eomer stared after her. "And she is supposed to be a Princess?"

"It is merely a title," Legolas said, keeping his eyes trained on her. "She may be a Princess by birth, but she is a warrior at heart." When he saw her stop in front of the passage way, placing her hand against the rock he bowed his head and sighed before making his way to her. "Ellaria."

Ellaria didn't look at him, keeping her hand pressed against the rock and staring down the pathway. "It is not evil I sense here. It is something. . . different. Longing. Anger. It calls out for something, for someone."

"Let us not find out whom or what." Legolas said, gently grasping her shoulders. She turned her head to look at him. "We should eat." Ellaria nodded, letting him lead her away, glancing over her shoulder at the passageway once more before looking ahead of her. She found food easily, it was the distraction of what to do as they waited that truly bothered her.

The sun was lowered and Ellaria was standing face to face with one of Theoden's men. A crowd had gathered, every opponent she'd face landing on the ground and barely lasting a minute against her swordsmanship. She knocked him down, her sword placed against his throat. She chuckled as the men cheered, sheathing her sword and holding out a hand. The man took it, allowing her to help him up. Their supper was ready and they all scattered, eager for more food.

She entered her tent where Legolas was waiting, examining his arrows. She took a seat beside him on the cot, laying down. He turned his head to look at her, a small smile pulling to his lips. "Did you enjoy yourself?"

She closed her eyes, a content sigh leaving her lips. "I do love to prove Men wrong."

"Oh, I know."

She opened her eyes, watching him as he polished his arrows. She sat up, wrapping her arms around his stomach and placing her chin on his shoulder. She stared at the side of his face, reality dawning on her. Her voice was soft as she spoke. "If this is to be end, if either of us are to die in this war, I need just one thing from you." He stopped what he was doing, his attention focusing solely on her. "If this world is consumed by flame and shadow, I need you to know I love you. I have loved you for as long as I remember. I only hate that it took impending doom to tell you. I wish my fears had not held me back."

"Ella. . ."

Before he could finish speaking, the tent opened. The two Elves turned their heads to see Aragorn standing there, a look on his face that Ellaria couldn't decipher. Instantly she stood. "Aragorn?"

"Come with me." Aragorn instructed, taking her hand and leading her from the tent. She looked at Legolas over her shoulder before quickly following the Ranger.

"Aragorn, why are you leading me to the king's tent?" Ellaria mumbled. Aragorn said nothing. "Or stay quiet and I will figure out when I get inside." He opened the tent flap for her, a man standing there with his back turned. She frowned, looking at Aragorn. He only nodded at her and she stepped into the tent, Aragorn closing the flap behind her. The man turned and a soft gasp fell from her lips. "Father?"

In an instant she went to him, his arms instantly wrapping around her as she hugged him tightly. They stood like that for a moment before Ellaria pulled away. "Why are you here?" Ellaria asked. "What has made you travel all this way?"

"Arwen is dying."

Ellaria's heart seemed to stop. "W-what?"

"She has chosen a mortal life. As his strength grows, her own weakens. Her fate is tied to the Ring now."

Ellaria swallowed, her eyes going back and forth as she thought. "I must go to her."

"You need to stay here, my child. They need you."

"My sister is dying. She needs me more." Ellaria argued. "We can leave now, be there within a few days."

"Ellaria," Elrond placed his hands on her shoulders, "stay. She would want you to stay and fight." Tears clouded Ellaria's eyes, one trickling down her cheek. Elrond gently wiped the tear away. "There is a way to turn this around, Ellaria. You should be there when it happens."

Ellaria nodded and Elrond placed his hands on either side of her face, pressing a kiss to her forehead and wrapping his arms around her, settling his chin on top of her head. "You'll tell Arwen I lover her, won't you, father? You'll tell her I will come home to her."

"She already knows," Elrond softly said. "I cannot linger any longer." He pulled away and she nodded her head, watching as he placed a black cloak over his head and then left. Ellaria stood there, wiping away her tears before walking out.

She walked back to her tent where Legolas was anxiously waiting for her. "We must go. We must grab Gimli and meet him before he tries to leave without us." She began to gather her things, yet Legolas did not move. She turned to him. "Did you not hear me?" He slowly walked up to her and she furrowed her brows. "What are you doing? We must go—"

"I have loved you since we first met." Legolas interrupted her, startling her into silence. "Since that day I saw you in that tree, when I heard your laugh, and saw your smile, I knew there would be no one else for me. Even if you never felt the same, I was okay with knowing you were my friend, even if my heart longed for something more."

Ellaria shook her head. "Then why did you never tell me?"

"I did not want to hold you back." He answered, brushing a hair from her face. "You were so excited to see the world, I never wanted to take that from you, so I held my tongue and kept silent hope that maybe one day you would feel as I always have. If by my life or death, I vow to never part from you. To be by your side always. To always love you as my heart still beats. Even as the world falls apart around us. I would marry you now if fate would let me, call you my wife until our last breath."

Tears filled her eyes and she smiled. "And I would vow to do the same." She pressed a kiss to his lips, a passionate kiss filled with hopes and dreams, silently praying that one day they would come true. After a long moment she pulled away and the smile didn't leave her face as she handed him her bow, grabbing her things and placing his hand in hers before they walked out.

They found Gimli and they waited. Gimli took a seat, patiently waiting for Aragorn to pass by. When he did Gimli asked, "And where do you think you're going?"

Aragorn shook his head. "Not this time. This time you must stay, Gimli."

Gimli only hummed as Legolas and Ellaria walked up beside Aragorn with their horses in tow. "Have you learned nothing of the stubbornness of Dwarves?" Legolas asked.

"You might as well accept it," Gimli said. "We're going with you, laddie."

"And there's nothing you can say or do to stop us," Ellaria added.

Aragorn lowered his head in defeat and they all got onto their horses, riding through the camp, passing onlookers, and making their way through the passage of the Dimholt. The passage was eerie, all to quiet, a darkness lingering over it. "What kind of army would linger in such a place?" Gimli asked.

Legolas answered, "One that is cursed. Long ago, the Men of the Mountains swore an oath to the last king of Gondor to come to his aid, to fight. But when the time came, when Gondor's need was dire, they fled, vanishing into the darkness of the mountain. And so Isildur cursed them. . . never to rest until they had filled their pledge. Who shall call them from the grey twilight? The forgotten people. The heir of him to whom the oath they swore. From the north shall he come. Need shall drive him. He shall pass the door to the Paths of the Dead."

They made it up the hill, climbing off their horses and holding onto their reigns as they approached the door. Chills echoed down Ellaria's spine, the whispers from within reverberating in her ears. "The very warmth of my blood seems stolen away," Gimli muttered.

Ellaria's eyes noticed the words etched above the door, translating them out loud. "The way is shut. It was made by those who are dead. And the dead keep it. The way is shut." A loud whisper echoed out from the entrance, a wind blowing over them and scaring the horses, sending them running.

Aragorn called after his horse, but the horse didn't return. He turned to face the entrance, a muscle in his jaw ticking. "I do not fear death." Then, he walked in. Ellaria swallowed before following after him. Legolas followed in after her and after a long moment, Gimli finally managed the courage to walk in himself.