Miriel and Amdir fought through the hoards of orcs, moving further and further from the others. Suddenly, a woman's voice could be heard over the din, screaming a desperate battlecry to the heavens. They soon came to the source of the voice, and saw a warrior in the armor of Rohan, surrounded by a mixture of orcs and wild men under Saruman's command. Admir galloped straight into the circle, and Miriel extended an arm to the other, who took it gladly, swinging up onto Amdir's back as the stallion galloped onward, never breaking stride. He stopped, facing a clear area, and both women dismounted quickly, kneeling beside the wounded. Both understood what needed doing, and hefted the wounded men onto Amdir's back. Seeing the oncoming forces, Miriel turned to the stallion.

"Go, Amdir. I will see you again." The horse nodded his head, and took off. The two women stood back to back, ready for the enemy. "Shall we?" The other nodded, gripping her sword and shield as tightly as Miriel did as the orcs closed in around them.

"Now!" They began to battle the foul creatures, covering each other, their fighting styles moving and dancing easily together.

"What's your name?" A strange question in the middle of battle, but the other appreciated the dialogue, answering after stabbing an orc through the middle.

"Eowyn of Rohan. And you?" The other sliced the head off of an oncoming orc.

"Miriel of Gondor." She slashed another orc through the gut, and Eowyn quickly dispatched another. Then, both spun away quickly, killing the last orc between them, Miriel at the head and Eowyn slicing the legs.

"A pleasure to meet you." Miriel grinned.

"Likewise." The two women clasped the other's arm, recognizing each other as a sister in the small order of shieldmaidens left. A screech sounded across the valley, followed by another, and the pair looked up to see a pair of black riders, astride two horrid steeds.

"I fear that this turns the tide in Sauron's favor." Eowyn said, her voice grim. "They cannot be killed." Miriel tightened her grip, drawing the other's attention to her eyes, which shone with hope and determination.

"They cannot be killed by men." Eowyn's eyes widened in realization, and she shared a determined grin with the other woman. "Fate has brought us here this day, for all would be lost without us now. I wish you speed and good luck, Eowyn. Eru willing, we shall meet again, and I may call you sister in this small order of ours." Eowyn grinned back at the woman. It was no wonder that Aragorn had given his heart fully to her.

"Speed and luck to you as well, sister. May we meet again." The two embraced quickly, and parted ways to destroy the creatures who had attacked their homes. The sisterhood of the shieldmaidens was reborn in them, and strengthened their resolve. They would live to see this order rebuilt.

Miriel soon found her prey, eyes narrowing through the helmet she wore. The creature turned to her, mace in hand, and she dodged as he brought it swinging down at her head. He lifted it again, and she ducked as he swung it around, managing to escape death or injury as the metal weapon knocked her helmet off. At the same time he swiped at her with his sword, and she was unable to get close to him as she blocked the strike. He swung the mace again, and this time she raised her shield to meet the blow. Instead of shattering into splinters as he expected, the wooden circle held fast, as did the arm of his opponent.

"How?" He rasped, and the Eye of Sauron was drawn from his own lands to look through the eyes of his puppet. The symbol on her shield prodded his memory, and her words confirmed it. Sauron knew his servant was dead before a single blow was struck against him.

"This shield will not break now, just as it has not in the hands of the ancestors who came before me. No matter how you beat upon it!" Spinning so that the mace was pushed from them both, she slashed at the creature's limbs, sending him to his knees with one arm limp and the other without a hand. The Nazgul, surprised and dazed, looked up into the fierce eyes of the woman before him.

"Who are you?" He choked in his airy rasp. Her eyes would have bored a hole in his mortal form.

"Miriel of Gondor. Sauron, I know you see me through your servant's eyes. You failed to bring about my end, and you shall fail to destroy Gondor and bring Middle Earth beneath your thumb. There is nothing you can do to stop what is to come." With that, she decapitated the miserable creature, and ran back towards the city as the first Oliphaunt fell. Running up to the creature's head, she cut the throat of one orc, and quickly used her bow to take out another that had begun to creep up behind a short being with and axe, before a blond elf had even finished nocking an arrow. Both looked at her as she dispatched another creature, slashing his legs from under him and stabbing him through the middle.

"Miriel?" She turned back to the pair, and grinned at them both.

"Hello, you two." The elf and dwarf stared at her in utter bewilderment.

"How..." Gimli trailed off, and she laughed.

"You didn't think I'd let you have all the fun, did you?" At that, they all laughed and embraced before continuing battle. Miriel was soon pushed again, startled for a moment by the green warriors around her.

One stopped when it saw her shield, and Miriel saw the decayed face of a woman looking at her through the green haze. The being wore clothing much like her own, and soon others joined her. In the middle of the raging battle, the temporary Steward of Gondor was surrounded by a group of glowing green women dressed in battle gear, carrying shields and swords reminiscent of her own. The first spirit moved forward, and spoke.

"We failed to honor the oaths we took to protect Middle Earth and Gondor until our dying days. The last time shieldmaidens were called to Gondor, we fled and our people were lost. Let us honor our oaths and regain our place this day, sister. We return to fulfill our promise. Will you lead us one last time into the fray?" She extended a decayed arm shrouded in green mist, a gauntlet not unlike the one on Miriel's arm buckled around her own. Miriel looked at the crowd of women, and the weight of what they asked of her settled comfortably onto her shoulders. It was time to fulfill the destiny laid out before her. She clasped the spirit's arm where the gauntlet was, and was less surprised than she had expected to be when she could feel the freezing metal beneath her fingers.

"One last charge for the shieldmaidens of old." The face of the woman in front of her twisted into what Miriel believed to be a grin that mirrored her own, and the women around her turned to follow as she herself moved to give relief to the valley to their right, toward the city that was still overrun. Miriel once again raised her horn to her lips, and blew it for the second time that day. The sound once again brought the attention of the evils before them, allowing the rest of the valley to continue battle uninterrupted. Amdir galloped up to the crowd of women, followed by a hoard of ghostly mounts, allowing the women to mount them. Miriel raised her sword high into the air, glistening black with orcish blood as the sun broke through the clouds onto the shining city of Minas Tirith.

"For Gondor!" They charged, and the spirits around her raised their swords high into the air as the horses' hooves thundered over the earth, screaming their raging battlecries to the heavens. When they were finished, not a single orc or goblin was left within the White City, and Miriel alone remained in the throne room, the women returned to the people of the mountain.

She ordered that all wounded were to be brought to the Halls of Healing, and saw to it that Eowyn was treated well, and Eomer allowed to remain by his sister's side. Decisions were run through her so many times that, when she was finally left in peace, she simply stood and thought her own thoughts for a moment.

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Out on the battlefield, the spirits faded away in the breeze as Aragorn released them. Within moments, all save a single woman had disappeared, and she stepped forward. The clothing she wore was so familiar it hurt to look at her. She smiled, and it felt as though she knew what he was thinking already.

"I believe it is time you went to the Steward, my lord. There is a meeting in that room that is far too long in the making." She faded away as well now, and Gandalf rested a hand on the man's shoulder.

"Go, Aragorn. It is time you spoke with the Steward. We shall remain here and do what we can." Aragorn nodded, his heart heavy, and began to make his way toward the throne room. He reached the doors, and the two guards outside opened them, but he could not make his feet move. He stared at the doorway a moment longer, but then was pushed from behind. He whirled to see a red stallion, tossing its head almost as though it was laughing. Then, he turned, and walked inside with the doors shutting behind him.

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Super huge shoutout to @ieatalotofbooks! I always see you pop up on my notifications whenever I update, and I love that you are so invested in reading this story! Thank you and all the others who read this book :)