Feä Bond (Legolas x OC)

The fields of Moranon

Brace for impact. This is a short battle, but definitely intense. I hope you enjoy.

As a massive, rumbling noise caused the earth to tremble beneath their feet, Aragorn, Gandalf, Gimli, Pippin and Legolas stood as one. By their side, the twin sons of Elrond gathered their wrath to face the armies of the Dark Lord. Not a look was exchanged between them as they watched a sea of darkness – Mordor's army – spill forth from the black gates. But Frances could feel every single one of them beside her. And while the solid vibration of more than fifty thousand orcs shook her legs, Aragorn spurred his horse forward and turned to his army.

"The strength of men shall not fail!" he cried.

A great cheer answered him, and Frances cried with the others. At some point, she locked eyes with the former ranger and smiled. Despite their difference in stations, despite the fact that she had no right to feel thus, she couldn't help but feel proud of him.

Perhaps her visions were wrong, and Aragorn would never be crowned. But, while the sea of swimming darkness advanced behind him, he still stood straight in the saddle; the only man offering his back to an army of half a hundred thousand foes.

Some would call him a fool for showing such disregard towards danger. Other found strength and courage in his steadfast posture. Frances was one of those.

Trumpets cheers then, and heralds announced the coming of King Elessar, sovereign of Gondor and Arnor. And, in this surrealist moment, the young lady grinned. Grey eyes misting over, Aragorn grinned back. The quirk of his lips soon turned into a feral expression; the glint of his grey eyes steeling like the finest blade.

Legolas left one last, lingering kiss over the crown of her head. Words were useless. The time had come.

As they couldn't afford to charge, the armies of the west waited, with bated breath, the sea of darkness that irrevocably came crashing upon them. Horsemen dove into the fray, spearmen at the ready to break the tide. To no avail; there were too few compared to the tide of Mordor.

"Stay close to us!" Elladan roared as the first orcs started seeping into their lines. Frances nodded, noticing that most of her companions were scattered around her. The fellowship, reinforced by the remnants of the Grey Company, held true in the face of adversity.

Frances unsheathed, and started slashing. If Frodo had died, those sons of bitches would pay. If he had not perished yet, then they must hold on at all costs.

It was desperation that led her blade as she twirled, mindful of her diminished leg, blade searing through her enemies. On her right, twin blades danced, dealing death with efficiency. More and more orcs passed through their front lines, hacking down their men, and the fight became a brawl in close quarters.

Using her small form to dodge, Frances grabbed her sword closer to the hilt and reduced her stance, swimming in the dark sea like a fish in ugly, tainted waters. She lost count of the slashes that nearly took her head off, and the limbs she severed with cries of rage. Blows landed upon her body, the armour taking most of it as she tried to dodge.

Her arms ached, heavy, but she called forth the anger to sustain her body. The slightest of weakening in her attention, and all would be lost.

The chaos spread, but did not abate. It lasted forever, and still Frances sliced, diced, and received a thousand cuts and blows. Her body was a giant bruise; it ached everywhere. Adrenalin kept her conscious, but her feet just refused to lift anymore. The ground was littered with blood, flesh and stinking fluids. Too exhausted, the young woman lifted her sword to parry an incoming orc.

"Watch out!"

Frances was flung aside, and nearly impaled herself on her sword as a massive hammer passed right over her head. A hand pulled her roughly by the collar to a standing position, grey eyes – Elladan – giving her a quick once over before they returned to the massive troll that had nearly crushed her. Her protector leapt into the fray, nailing the huge creature. The troll swung wildly around him, taking friends and foes alike.