Witch King's Point of View:

This was no longer just a game to cure unending boredom.  No, this had turned into a battle of wills. The girl was clever, there was no getting around it, but was she just as shrewd when faced with all-out war?

I laugh maliciously. Let us see just how much courage she can muster when she is covered in the blood of all her loved ones who lie dead at her feet.  I will crush her pure spirit, and then wipe the miserable creature from the earth once and for all.

Arra’s Point of View:

Elves rushed to and fro all around me, preparing for battle, creating a sort of calm frenzy in the castle. I stuck close to Legolas the whole time, not wanting to lose him.  Also, it was comforting to have his arm wrapped securely around my waist as we stood silently and observed.  Every once in a while he would lean down and place a kiss on the top of my head or squeeze my hand, as if reassuring himself I am truly there.

Thranduil had managed to procure traditional water bending armor from somewhere for me.  I need to remember to ask him later how in Middle Earth he acquired it, as well as how it seemed to fit me so flawlessly.  For now though I did not question it, and continued to admire the intricate pattern and layering of its metal and brown leather. 

The entire bottom portion is leather leggings with metal plates that wrap around my knees, and the top is made entirely of pieces of close-fitting grey metal.  The metal stops at my upper arms, but my arm guards for my bow cover the rest of both my lower arms. Everything fits me so well that it is a wonder the armor is not actually mine.

The comforting weight of my twin long knives rests against my back, their sheaths located within easy reach over my shoulder.  Legolas had insisted that I use his, for which I was grateful; I did not want to use the set I had been given while with the Witch King, no matter how familiar the weapon was to me. My skill with the blades seems to be one of the only good things that came out of being the Witch King's prisoner for many months. The two blades sit directly next to my quiver, which had been restocked recently with a dozen new, feathered arrows.  My bow hangs nestled between my quiver and knives, ready to be pulled from its resting place and strung at a moment’s notice.  

Two daggers, each as long as my forearm, rest on either of my hips; I am armed to the teeth.  The weight of all of these weapons does not bother me though, but rather comforts me.

“Legolas,” I start, realizing I had forgotten to inform both he and Thranduil of what Narok had told me.

His arm wrapped around my waist turns me slightly so that I face him. “Yes?”

 “Narok also told me,” I pause at length, gathering my courage, “he told me the Witch King was coming with the orcs.”

“Come, then we must warn my father.” he says, scanning the room for Thranduil.

“I do not think it will be a problem.” I say softly, knowing Legolas will still be able to hear me.

“What do you mean?” he asks.

“Narok said,” I take a deep breath to keep my voice steady, “the Witch King is coming for me, and only for me.  He is going to single me out from everyone else.  It is the only reason they are attacking.” I spill all of the words out before I become too afraid to speak.

“Then I shall stay here with you.” Legolas replies, pulling me to him to rest his chin on top of my head.

I slide my arms around his waist and allow myself to relax for just a moment before pulling away.  Standing up on the tips of my toes, I place a light kiss on his lips before gently untangling myself from him.

“No, you must fight with your people.” I look into Legolas’s eyes, knowing he is about to argue with me, and I already knowing what to say to convince him I am right.

“They will have my father to-”

“And if, stars forbid, he is slain in battle?  What then? Who will lead them?  You must be fighting along side with them Legolas; that is your battle, and this is mine.” I state, taking his right hand in my left and interlacing our fingers.

He looks down at are interlocked hands for a long time until his gaze eventually moves up to meet my eyes. “Very well, but promise me one thing, Arra.” he speaks, seriously.

“Of course, Legolas, anything.”

“Just do not die. I have only just found you.” He pulls me to him once again, his arms tight around me as if maybe they could protect me from all evils.

I pull away just enough to look into Legolas’s eyes. “Of course, Princeling, but you must promise not to die as well.”

A slight smile graces his lips. “I promise, my princess.”

I lean back in to rest my head on Legolas’s shoulder, not wishing for him to see how truly afraid I am.  I wrap my arms around his waist again to stop their shaking.

And that is how we wait; not knowing what will happen in the coming hours, unsure of our fate.  I did know one thing though; here in this moment, with evil closing in on us, I was with the one I loved with all my being.

A horn calls out in the distance, silencing the flurry of motion that had been the castle for these last hours to an uncanny silence.  The Witch King’s orc army had at long last arrived. Taking a deep breath to steady myself, I kiss Legolas gently on the lips, praying it is not the last time I will see him.

“Melinyel, Arra.” Legolas tells me, looking into my eyes deeply, as though he is memorizing something.

My eyebrow quirks up in question as to what he had just said, but before I am able to voice my question, he is sprinting off to join Thranduil at the head of the soldiers.

***Haha and Arra has no clue the gravity of what he said to her because she doesn’t speak the language. ***