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Disclaimer: They belong to Prof. JRR Tolkien. Except Cyrene and other side characters.

A/N: This chapter is not that great but it took time and effort. Thank you for all the old and new readers who make this happen and keep Cyrene's tale alive. The wonderful feedback I receive is the best muse possible. As always many great thanks to Viv, my Beta-Angel and to my very own bunch of Amazons, strong, noble and loyal. This insignificant mortal embraces you with all her might, and thanks the Goddess for having you.

Chapter XXVIII: THE LAST HOPE

Eomer sat on his horse on the same hill where he had lingered the night before with Cyrene. Now he watched the parting of the Rohirrim from Minas Tirith.

This morning's meeting between the leaders of the Army of the West and Gandalf had been dramatic and the decisions made weighed heavy on Eomer's soul.

Their review of the limited options left to them for stopping the advance of Sauron over Middle Earth had been painful but logical and level-headed: the leaders of the free folk recognized they had no alternatives but to gamble all of their last fighting power to distract the Dark Lord and give the Ringbearer an opportunity to destroy the One Ring.

Aragorn had released all Kings, leaders and princes of their allegiance, for this was a suicidal mission. They were going to attack the Dark Gates of Morannon.

Eomer had been the first of the leaders to put his and his troops lives in the hands of Aragorn; Imrahil and the other leaders had been quick to follow.

But now, as he oversaw his decimated army move into formation under the banner of the white horse, Eomer prayed to all the gods that he was not leading these men into their ultimate doom.

He saw the small squadron of amazons follow the Rohirrim, carrying their own banner of the ivy leaf and the crescent moon. And his eyes searched the ranks of the warrior women after Cyrene. He couldn't find her.

The loud sound of hooves behind him explained Cyrene's absence from the ranks, for there she was, riding up to where he waited.

Again, Eomer admired her royal appearance, clad in the armor and mantle of an Amazon princess. As his gaze fell upon her face, partly hidden by the helmet, Eomer saw that she was wearing a mask of calm demeanor, but her eyes could not hide her sorrow. Cyrene's laughing eyes were devoid of their warmth, their brightness. Her spirit was torn.

He had not noticed this change at the morning meeting, when she had accompanied him as one of the captains of the Rohirrim. But then he had been overcome by the burden of his own responsibility at having to decide the fate of his army, and he had only acknowledged her presence by his side, reveling at the sensation of strength and confidence she gave him.

Seeing her now, Eomer felt he had failed her as a friend. When she arrived at his side, he laid his hand on her forearm affectionately.

"Are you well, my sister?" he asked her softly, so as to not be overheard by his escort.

Cyrene nodded calmly, not even the hint of a smile on her face.

"I am well, Milord. I have explained to my warriors the purpose of the next battle and its importance. All of them are prepared to fight to the last breath, my King, as am I."

He sighed, and tried to reach for her cheek. She moved away.

"I am here to support you, Eomer. I will fight by your side and follow you into the depths of Hades itself. But I beg you not to burden my soul with any more of the emotions that trouble the minds of men. We Amazons will fulfill our duty towards Rohan and I am ready to die defending you, my friend, but we do not need any of the weaknesses that those of this world suffer, " she said softly.

Her voice was controlled and almost cold. The king of the Rohirrim felt her pain tear at his heart: the woman riding next to him seemed to have changed over night and hardened beyond his reach.

Eomer bowed his head to the Amazon. "As you wish, Mistress," and after this he spoke no more to her, both riding up to their troops.

*********************

Legolas and Gimli were riding with Aragorn, Gandalf, the Dúnedain and the sons of Elrond. They lead the main contingent while Imrahil rode with his troops and the men of Lebennin in their wake. The Rohirrim were riding at the end of the army, as they had left the dismounted and wounded warriors back in Minas Tirith to support the White City in the case of an attack. "Gimli has been waiting for Legolas since dawn, after he had parted from Aella himself, and the moment he saw his elf friend, he knew that something had gone awfully wrong between Legolas and Cyrene."] The sorrow and void he saw in his friend's blue eyes had been terrible enough that Gimli had not dared to ask.

Life-loving Legolas was a shadow of himself, and Gimli now had to believe that elves could die of grief, as he saw the light of his friend's spirit slowly dimming.

Gimli silently swore that he would stand steadfast by his elven friend's side throughout the next ordeal, and then, if they survived, he would do whatever was in his power to restore Legolas's joy of life. By the wealth of Erebor, he would not stand by and watch helplessly the elf fade away, not without a fight.

**************

The warriors rode silently towards Mordor, aware of their destination. To maintain the pretense of the motives of their attack, heralds and trumpeters were sent ahead, announcing, "The Lords of Gondor have returned, and all this land that is theirs they hereby reclaim."

All was silent at the Dark Gate. No sign of any enemy could be seen, no cry or call was heard, no suspicious shadows were spotted. Yet ever as they went forward they felt the watchfulness of the land increase. Tree and stone, blade and leaf were listening. Darkness was dissolving in front of them, as they advanced, the landscape opening before her eyes.

It was dark and lifeless, and though they marched in apparent peace, the foreboding of evil weighed heavy on the hearts and minds of the soldiers of the West. Even though they could not see the Nazgul flying high above them, except Legolas, the presence of the Ringwraiths could be felt, as a deepening of shadow, while the specters followed every move of the Army.

Dread was slowly seeping into each of the fighters as they approached the lands they only knew from tales of horror and nightmares.

While each leader wandered the ranks of his people to keep their spirits up, Legolas turned his sight upon the part of the army where he could see the banner of the Amazons. Would Cyrene feel the same dread she had felt in the Paths of the Dead? Who would she turn to? Eomer?

He shook the thoughts out of his mind. She had sent him away, but she would never know that once his heart had been given, he could not take it back. Again he prayed to the Valar to keep her safe from harm. And to give him a swift death on the battlefield, for he did not want to linger until he faded away. The only purpose he saw now in front of him was his oath to Aragorn, and once it was fulfilled, there was nothing left for him.

Cyrene gathered her Amazons for a short council. She walked to each of them and told them about her experience on the Paths of the Dead. She did not explain that Legolas had saved her from insanity, but she told them to stay close to their comrades and support each other when they felt dread taking over their hearts. Only together they would overcome the evil magic of the Dark Lord.

After the talk to her warriors, she rode up to the top of the squadron. Aella rode close to her.

"He helped you then, did he not, Cyrene?" Aella asked her friend.

"Legolas saved my life and my honor more than once, Aella. And I will be forever indebted to him. He owns my heart. For as long as I live, and further beyond," said Cyrene, remembering his gentle strength and loving tenderness.

"Then why did you part from him, Cyrene? I do not understand. You showed me that there were qualities and feelings in males that we as Amazons never knew about. I learned about love and care and belonging with a most unlikely male. But now, I would give my life for him, as I would for you. I don't want to think about not having him near. And still I know we might not survive the next battle.

"Every minute I spend with him is precious to me, Cyrene. He makes me feel complete. And may the Goddess give more time to share with my male, or at least I'll know I have know his presence in my life before my soul goes to Hades. Why are you denying this to yourself?"

Cyrene's face was strangely calm as she turned to her friend.

"Because I realized I love him more than life itself. And if he bound himself to me, he would lose his immortality. Who am I to deny him thousands of years of life to enjoy and behold the wonders of the world? My entire life is but a fleeting moment in his existence. I cannot and will not take that from him. So I chose to set him free, the only way I could. I sent him away, never to come back."

Aella saw the shadow that fell over her friend's face. She said softly, "But it is killing you, Cyrene. I can see it."

A sad smile spread over Cyrene's lips.

"I will not die of grief. But I pray to the Goddess to take my life in battle as a sacrifice to give us victory. And if she does, Aella, you will lead them on. Swear it to me, now."

The small Amazon felt the tears gathering in her eyes but she swallowed hard and laid her hand on her sword, "I will lead them on, Mistress, if you fall in battle. But may the Goddess keep us alive until this is over, to bring further fame and glory to the Amazons."

Cyrene nodded. "You will, Aella. You will."

And after saying this, Cyrene spurred her mount and cantered toward Eomer. Aella stayed behind, hiding her tears as best she could. She would fight and die at her friend's side if need be.

************

The Army of the West reached the great rampart of Cirith Gorgor, with the Black Gate in the midst, and the two Towers of the Teeth tall and dark on either side of it.

The two immense iron doors of the Black Gate were fast closed. The battlements seemed to be empty, and nothing could be seen. Still, though all was silent, it was also watchful.

The Captains of the West gathered their courage. They had arrived to the last end of their gamble and now stood forlorn and small in the gray light of the ominous early day, facing the towers and walls which their army could not assault with hope.

They also knew that all the hills and rocks about the Morannon were filled with hidden foes. They saw all the Nazgûl gathered, hovering above the Towers of the Teeth like vultures, and they knew that they were watched. But still the main enemy gave no sign. No choice was left them but to play their part to its end. Aragorn set the sparse host in the best tactical array as he could, drawn up on two great hills facing the Gate and the Towers.

When the troops were set, the Captains rode forth towards the Black Gate with a great guard of horsemen and the banner and heralds and trumpeters. There was Gandalf as chief herald, and Aragorn with the sons of Elrond, and Éomer of Rohan with Cyrene at his side, and Imrahil, and Legolas and Gimli and Pippin, so that all the Free Folk of Middle Earth and enemies of Mordor should have a witness.

They came close to the high walls, within cry of the walls, and unfurled the banner. They blew upon their trumpets and the heralds cried, "Come forth! Let the Lord of the Black Land come forth! Justice shall be done, for wrongfully has he made war upon Gondor and wrested its lands. Therefore the King of Gondor demands that he stand up for his deeds and depart then for ever. Come forth"

As the Captains were about to turn away, the silence was broken suddenly by the rolling of great drums like thunder in the mountains, and then a loud howling of horns that shook the stones and stunned the men's ears. The middle door of the Black Gate was thrown open, and out of it came an embassy from the Dark Tower.

Its leader was a rider clothed all in black, though this was not a Ringwraith but a living man. He was the Lieutenant of the Tower of Barad- ur, and with him came only a small company of black-harnessed soldiery, and a single banner, black but bearing in red the Evil Eye. Now halting a few paces before the Captains of the West he looked them up and down and laughed.

"Though none of you are fit to even pronounce my master's name, he conceded that I might show you these tokens." He signed to one of his guards, and he came forward bearing a bundle swathed in black cloths.

He drew from the bundle the short sword that Sam had carried, and next a gray cloak with an elven-brooch, and finally the coat of mithril-mail that Frodo had worn wrapped in his tattered garments.

The captains who had not known the Ringbearer understood the tragedy unfolding because they saw Aragorn, Gandalf, Legolas, and Gimli's faces turn ashen. Pippin sprang forward with a cry of grief. Cyrene's heart was hurting again as she saw her beloved's countenance crumple in absolute despair.

All was lost then, and blackness came before their eyes. It seemed to them in a moment of silence that the world stood still, but their hearts were dead and their last hope gone.

"We found your spies within our fortress. What use you find in this midget I cannot guess. It would be vain for you to now deny that they belong to your party."

"I will not deny them," said Gandalf. "I know them all and all their history, and despite your scorn, foul Mouth of Sauron, you cannot say as much. But why do you bring them here?"

"Sauron does not love spies, and what their fate shall be depends now on your choice." No one answered him, but he saw their faces grey with fear and the horror in their eyes and he laughed again, enjoying their suffering.

"They shall endure the slow torment of years, as long and slow as our arts in the Great Tower can contrive, and never be released, unless they are so changed and broken that they may come to you, and you shall see what you have done. This will be unless you accept my Lord's terms."

"Name the terms," said Gandalf steadily, but those nearby saw the anguish in his face, and now he seemed an old and wizened man, crushed, defeated at last. The leaders of the Army of the West did not doubt now that he would accept. All was lost. "These are the terms," said the Messenger, and he grinned triumphantly as he eyed them one by one. "The rabble of Gondor and its deluded allies shall withdraw at once beyond the Anduin, first taking oaths never again to assail Sauron the Great in arms, open or secret. All lands east of Anduin shall be Sauron's forever. West of the Anduin as far as the Misty Mountains and the Gap of Rohan shall be tributary to Mordor, and men there shall bear no weapons, but shall have leave to govern their own affairs."

Gandalf said, "This is much to demand for the delivery of our companions: that your Master should receive in exchange what he must else fight a enormous war to gain! Or has the field of Gondor destroyed his hope in war, so that he falls to bargaining? And if indeed we rated this prisoner so high, what warranty have we that Sauron the Deceiver, will keep his part? Where is this prisoner? Let him be brought forth and given to us, and then we will consider these demands."

The Mouth of Sauron laughed foully. "Do not bandy words in your insolence with my Master!" he cried. "Warranties you demand; Sauron gives none. If you appeal to his clemency you must first do his bidding. These are his terms. Take them or leave them!"

"These we will take!" said Gandalf suddenly. He cast aside his gray cloak and a white blinding light shone forth like a sword in that black place. Before his upraised hand the dark Messenger retreated, and Gandalf seized and took from him the tokens: coat, cloak, and sword.

"These we will take in memory of our friend," he cried. "But as for your Master's terms, we reject them utterly. Get you gone, for your embassy is over and death is near to you. We did not come here to waste words in treating with Sauron or any of his slaves. Be gone!"

The Messenger of Mordor laughed no more. His face was twisted with amazement and anger to the likeness of some wild beast. He looked at the fell faces of the Captains and their deadly eyes, and fear overcame his wrath. He gave a great cry and turned, spurring his steed, and with his company galloped madly back to Cirith Gorgor. But as they went his soldiers blew their horns in signal long arranged, and even before they came to the gate Sauron sprang his trap.

********

During the exchange with the group of Sauron's envoys Cyrene kept her stance firm and serene at Eomer's right. But as the belongings of the Ringbearer and his friend were brought forward, she could not avoid looking over at Legolas. She saw the tightening of his jaw and the flash of pain crossing his beautiful face. And she felt the ache as if it were her own.

It wasn't only the recognition that all their hopes had been crushed. If the Ringbearer had been taken, they were facing a battle that would lead to their utter destruction and the loss of Middle Earth with no chance whatsoever of standing up to the hordes of Mordor. The Army of the west was going into its certain death.

But the sorrow she felt was more personal. It was for Legolas. He had known the Ringbearer and his companion, and strangely, she felt his searing pain as if it were her own. She loved him so much that again, she made her prayer to the Goddess. To not let her survive if he fell. She closed her eyes briefly at her prayer and as she opened them she found his blue eyes locked on hers, though her face was half-covered by her helmet. A lonely tear fell on her cheek and they exchanged a silent goodbye as the entourage turned away from the Black Gates and rode on a dead run towards the troops.

The Army of Sauron was on their heels and the fight was upon them.