They finally reached the Pelennor Fields at dusk, riding towards the Black Gate without a single sign of turning back. Miriel and Aragorn rode together leading their army, both wearing the army of Gondor as Eomer came on at their side, his own men behind him. Gandalf rode beside Eomer, both carrying a hobbit before them, and Legolas and Gimli rode together to the side of Miriel. Finally, the marching stopped, and the king rode forth with his seven companions.

"Let the lord of the Black Land come forth; let justice be done upon him!" A clattering and clanging of metal could be heard from behind the huge gate, and the enormous doors opened to reveal a single rider, the lieutenant of Sauron. His mouthpiece. There is silence across the fields on both sides of the gate, and the horrendous creature spoke, his yellow teeth and split lips making it hard to look at him as he spoke, the two hobbits looking away in disgust.

"My master Sauron bids thee welcome." The creature seemed to attempt a smile, and Aragorn made a face, sharing a disgusted glance with Miriel at his side. "Is there any in this rout with authority to treat with me?" Gandalf spoke next, the thing's head twitching to look at him. Or at least to attempt, given that the helmet he wore provided no sight at all.

"We do not come to treat with Sauron, faithless and accursed! Tell your master this. The armies of Mordor must disband. He is to depart these lands, never to return." The thing seemed to attempt another gruesome grin.

"Aha! Old Greybeard! I have a token I was bidden to show thee." He pulled out a shirt of mithril all too familiar to the company.

"Frodo!" Pippin shouted, as the creature tossed the shirt to Gandalf. Gandalf hushed the hobbits as they called out in shock and sorrow.

"The Halfling was dear to thee I see. Know that he suffered greatly at the hands of his host. Who would have thought one so small could endure so much pain? And he did Gandalf, he did." Tears began in Gandalf's eyes, but Miriel shifted Amdir closer to the evil creature, drawing his attention to her. "Ah, my master said you survived. Some old magic no doubt. He has no fear of you or your order, shieldmaiden, you are weak now." Miriel sat tall in her saddle, her stoney expression seeming to throw the messenger, if only slightly and well hidden.

"Your words have little effect on me, creature. You and your master are both known for your lies. I very much doubt you have told the truth any time it did not directly mix with a falsehood. I know your master heard my words on the battlefield, and I see through your lies. Sauron cannot stop what is to come, and he is right to fear it." The Mouth of Sauron let out a loud but very fake laugh.

"My master fears no one. Your demise will come very soon little shieldmaiden, and this time not even the old magic will bring you back." Aragorn moved forward now, and the creature turned his attention to him. "And who is this? Isildur's heir? It takes more to make a King than a broken Elvish blade!" He cackled, and Aragorn looked to Miriel. After a shared glance and nod, Aragorn whipped out his blade and cut the creature's head from his miserable shoulders.

"I guess that concludes negotiations." Gimli muttered, earning a small and fleeting smile from Miriel.

"I do not believe it." Aragorn said, turning back to Miriel. "I will not!" She nodded to him. Then, the gate began to open, and the armies of Mordor began to flood into the open. "Pull back!" he cried. "Pull back!" The small company made their way back to their own troops, pulling into the ranks as the enemy continued to pour out of the Black Lands. The soldiers looked uncertain as they watched the orcs continuously march out of the gate, and Miriel turned to Aragorn.

"They need you." He nodded, kissed her, and then rode out in front of the gathered troops, drawing their attention onto him alone as he rode up and down their lines.

"Sons of Gondor! Of Rohan! My brothers!" The men turn to follow him with their eyes, drowning out the sounds of marching orcs to hear his voice above the din. "I see it in your eyes, the same fear that would take the heart of me. A day may come when the courage of men fails, when we forsake our friends and break all bonds of fellowship, but it is not this day! An hour of wolves and shattered shields when the age of men comes crashing down, but it is not this day! This day we fight!" The hope of man was rekindled in their hearts, and all eyes followed the King of Gondor. A man who had once shown nothing but the Ranger was brought into the light of day, and his people were not ashamed of him as he thought they would be. They were proud to be his people, and he could ask for nothing more. "By all that you hold dear on this good earth, I bid you stand! Men of the West!" The sound of singing metal rang out across the lands as those assembled unsheathed their weapons, holding them high in the bright sun. Aragorn wheeled around on his horse to face the Gate again, Miriel and Eomer slightly behind him at either side.

"Never thought I'd die fighting side by side with an elf." Gimli said. Legolas smiled.

"How about side by side with a friend?" The elf looked down at the dwarf, and the latter nodded with a wry smile.

"Aye, I could do that." Miriel turned on her horse.

"How about neither of you die and we can call it good?" The three chuckled slightly, turning back to the daunting battle at hand. Aragorn suddenly dismounted and walked forward, as though hearing a voice no one else could. He stopped, turning back to look at Miriel as Gandalf held of Frodo's Mithril shirt. He looked deep into the eyes of his love, and her determination strengthened his resolve.

"For Frodo." With that, he turned and charged, and Miriel followed behind with the armies of Gondor at her back and Rohan at her side, screaming her rage at Sauron to the evils before her. It was not long before she was forced from the saddle and Amdir trampled enemies of his own accord, while she fought back to back with her love. The battle was long and hard, and they knew that Frodo was their only hope now. A cry went up in a voice both recognized as Pippin's, and they looked to the sky.

"The eagles! The eagles are coming!" Relief was short lived as they continued to fight, but no longer did the Nazgul screech from the air. A cave troll separated Miriel and Aragorn, sending the woman into a circle of orcs in thick armor, and the king to the ground before the troll's feet. It seemed as though all was lost, when a loud crack sounded across the valley and the Eye of Sauron flared. The screech that came from it was loud and horrible, but the enemy ran and left the people of Rohan and Gondor without a second thought. The tower fell, and the hobbits took up the cry of Frodo's name in joy.

Then a great explosion shook the earth, and Mount Doom erupted. The cries of joy turned to sorrow, and tears ran from the eyes of all the Fellowship who stood before the Gate. Miriel shook her head, drawing the attention of her friends.

"No. I refuse to give up on them now. Frodo and Sam may yet be alive, and we will not abandon them to the flames of Mount Doom when there is still hope for them." She made her way towards an eagle who had landed, Gandalf at her side, and sent a reassuring smile to the others as the two were lifted into the air on the backs of the giant birds.

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On the mountain, Frodo and Sam were exhausted. The journey had taken its toll, and they could go on no further without rest. One they did not hope to wake from. The Ring was destroyed, Sauron was gone, and their friends would live. That was what mattered and gave them peace.

Then, it seemed as though the sun had finally broken through the dark clouds that always covered the Black Lands, and the hobbits could see the eagles above them, two figures upon their backs. As they came closer and lifted them from their resting place upon the lava rocks of the volcano, the hobbits could see the faces of Miriel and Gandalf above them, and smiled. They would see the wizard and the shieldmaiden once again, and that was a comfort. Perhaps it was time to follow the road wherever the journey next would lead.

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Samwise Gamgee opened his eyes only to close them tightly again against the bright light that blinded him. From the smell, the Gaffer must have already gone to town and gotten the bread of the morning from Millie Bracegirdle, meaning he had to get up soon to go tend Mr. Frodo's flowers before tea. Mr. Bilbo really had left it seemed, and maybe he would be back. Who knew with that old hobbit now anyway? He heard a voice calling him, and he swatted at the air with one hand.

"Five more minutes, promise. I'll get an early start on the tulips tomorrow." The hearty laugh of a woman sounded beside him, and a female voice spoke.

"You're not quite back to the Shire yet, Sam. Up you get." Sam opened his eyes in shock at that familiar voice, blinking in the sunlight that streamed through the nearby window. Miriel of Gondor was smiling down at him, and he could only stare back.

"Miriel?" Her smile widened, and the next moment he was hugging her as tightly as he could as they both laughed loudly in the crisp morning air.

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Miriel stood anxiously outside the door to Faramir's room in the Halls of Healing, wringing her hands. Boromir looked down at his younger sister.

"I'll be right here. It's Faramir, sister! He will be glad to see us both." She smiled up at him before carefully opening the door. Faramir sat facing the balcony, his head bowed.

"If you have not come to bring me news, leave me in peace. I have been told nothing of anything that has transpired but my father's death, so do not torment me with empty words and promises of explanations that never come." Miriel closed the door behind her, and her little brother seemed to sink lower on the bed as he heard the door close.

"I bring plenty of news, little brother. And nearly all of it good." Faramir was on his feet in an instant, facing the door with a hand reaching to where his sword would be. His face was full of torment and pain as he stared at the apparent shade of Miriel.

"No, you bring only more pain. Why must I still be tormented by images of those long gone? Why do you show me the face of my dead sister when I know I will never truly see her again? Why can you not leave my heart and mind in peace!" Miriel's eyes filled with salty tears that she refused to set free as she moved slowly towards the corner Faramir had backed himself into. He cried out again, and her heart broke for her brother's pain.

"Stop this! You have tormented me enough without showing me her sorrow. My sister was too joyful for her own good, don't you dare taint that memory with her tears! Whatever you are, shed your stolen form. Do not wear her face as a mockery to her memory!" He too was holding back tears, but one fell as he closed his eyes. Miriel was so close now, and she engulfed the man in a tight embrace, their forms so similar in height she had no need to strive to pull him close. Facing the rest of the room, the blue eyes of Faramir shot open as he felt his sister's arms around him. That was a feeling no one could emulate. And the sound of her voice was thick with tears, as he had only ever heard it once before when he was a child and did not understand the passing of their mother.

"I am no shade, Faramir. Merely a sister who loves her little brother and has fought dearly to keep the promise to return to him. I said I would return from the Falls of Rauros, and from them have I come. I promise you now that this is me, Faramir, no trick of the enemy." Faramir held her tightly as she said this, burying his face in her hair as he cried tears of joy that mingled with hers. Finally, they parted, and he could only stare at her.

"How? How are you here?" He asked, the only words that would come to his lips. She smiled, and it seemed that the warmth returned to him from wherever it had gone when he heard the news of her death.

"Some elvish magic and my all too stubborn heart, little brother. But there is still more joyous news for you." Faramir laughed.

"I do not believe that possible, my dearest sister." She chuckled.

"Then I suppose I shall be forced to prove you wrong once again, Faramir." Miriel turned her head towards the door. "I think you can come in now, he doesn't seem in too much danger of passing out." Faramir was about to protest and wipe the smug grin from his sister face, when the door opened and Boromir entered. No words were exchanged between the two brothers, simply an instant embrace during which Faramir had to struggle to remain upright. The three children of Denethor and Finduilas were once again under one roof, but this time there was no dire news of perilous journey. The war was over, and it was time to rejoice.