"they are coming," 

Márafea ran out into the courtyard, ignoring Thranduil's screams for her to return. The Troll had completely broken through and was heading towards the Dwarves who were defending their injured comrades against the Orcs, who were now pouring through the barricade and cutting them off from escape. Thranduil came running to her side, "What are you doing? You cannot take on that thing by yourself!"

"I must lead them away from the Dwarves! Trust me, I know what I am doing!" replied Márafea. She kissed him, revealed her radiance, and ran off towards the great beast. Thranduil called after her in despair.

"Keep yourself safe, Mime Melda, for Nínimiel's sake!" The troll continued bringing its makeshift club down onto anything that moved. On seeing Márafea in her radiant form, it changed direction and advanced upon her, attempting to crush her with its weapon. The ground shuddered as the Márafea dodged the troll's continued attack. "Protect the Queen!" shouted Thranduil to the archers as he fought his way through the Orcs. A slew of Elven arrows landed in the Troll's torso. But rather than slow the beast, it only angered it further. It growled as it tore out the arrows as if they were little more than bee stings, then took a swipe at the archers, narrowly missing them.

Márafea's silver eyes filled with fiery rage, "lendeo sina sinome!" she shouted. The Orcs shrank back in fear, but the Troll took another step towards her, taking another swipe at Márafea with the tree trunk, but again she avoided it. In the distance, she could see that Thranduil and the others had broken through the Orcs and were assisting the stranded Dwarves to retreat to the safety of the King's house. The trunk came down again, missing her by inches this time. "Stand back!" she ordered the Elven archers.

"We must protect you, my Lady Queen," called their captain.

"That is an order, captain! Retreat, for I do not wish to cause you harm," called Márafea. The captain nodded and gave the orders for the archers to retreat to the King's house. Now the Troll was almost on top of her, Thranduil watched in horror as it loomed over Márafea, club raised and poised to strike.

"Not again, Elbereth," he whispered, and closed his eyes.

"LENDE SINA SINOME!" she screamed before stamping on the ground beneath her. The ground shook and the walls surrounding the King's House crumbled to the ground.

"That's not Sindarin," said Ronil.

"No, it is Quenya, the language of the divine, few speak it now," replied Thranduil. He opened his eyes, fixing his gaze upon Márafea.

"The Vice Regent, she is glowing like the High Elves, and her hair is like a great flame of silver. How did the walls crumble like that? Is she a sorceress? Like the Dwarves say?" asked Ronil.

"No, but Queen has sacred blood in her veins, she is unique. I only hope it will help her now," replied Thranduil.

Stones fell upon some of the remaining Orcs, killing them instantly. The rest ran away in terror. The Troll was knocked off its feet, dazed long enough for the Dwarves to seize the opportunity, rush in and set upon it with their axes. As the Dwarves finished off, the troll, Men and Elves poured out the King's house chasing after retreating the Orcs and finishing them off as the first light of the day appeared in the eastern sky. Márafea sank to her knees, spread her hands upon the ground and wept. She felt Thranduil's hand upon her shoulder, "You have turned the tide Mime Melda, it is almost sunrise. Why do you weep?" he asked.

She looked up at him, her hands still upon the ground, "alas it is not enough, my will is all spent. Those who sent the creatures, are coming. I feel them marching through my fingers, they sent the creatures to weaken us, men, from the hills," she whispered. Márafea's radiance diminished as Thranduil helped her to her feet, she looked up toward the surrounding hills. "They are coming," she whispered before collapsing into his arms. Thranduil looked up at the hills, his heart sank as in the half light, his elf sight saw a large army of men armed with spears and arrows poised to strike. He carried Márafea back into the King's house.

Corwen came to him, "The Queen's will is diminished, she must rest and replenish. Take her to the boats waiting on the shore of Lake Evendim, even if she objects, and return to Bree to call for aid. If the worst should happen, ensure the queen returns home safely," said Thranduil. Corwen bowed.

Márafea stirred, "No," she whispered, "they are coming,"

"You are in no fit state to argue Mime Melda, you must retreat as you promised me. I will not see our daughter, motherless," Thranduil kissed her, "send my love to Legolas and Nínimiel," he whispered.

Márafea stroked his face, "But they are coming," she pleaded.

Thranduil helped her to stand "take the queen to boats, NOW! ordered Thranduil and despite her protestations, the Corwen and the Hurscarls whisked Márafea away toward Lake Evendim.

"I do not understand," said Ronil.

"The Queen has gifts beyond that of mortal men, yet it comes at a price. Muster all who can stand, this battle is far from over," said Thranduil. The exhausted Men, Elves and Dwarves now arranged themselves in defensive lines in the courtyard. The howls of Hillmen filled the air as they entered the city. Cruel, hard men who had long been enemies of the Dúnedain.

The Hurscarls led Márafea through the great ruins of the King's house, to the overgrown gardens and shore of Lake Evendim. There the boats were waiting, one of the Hurscarls unleashed one of them. "My Lady Queen," he said, holding out his hand to her, reluctantly she took it and entered the boat. Just then, Elrohir came running out after them.

"Wait! the Queen spoke true! They have come, Glorfindel and a relieving army, we are saved!" he called.

----------------------------------

"Wake up sleepy head, you have missed all the fun," Márafea heard Glorfindel's voice through her dreams. Wearily she opened her eyes and sat up on the bedroll she was resting on, she could not remember removing her armour or falling asleep but the sun was now streaming through the glassless window nearby. She was in a small empty room with paint flaking off the walls, nearby were the injured, covered in bandages, being tended to by healers. As her eyes grew accustomed to the light, Márafea saw the golden haired Elf sitting on the window ledge. He hopped down and sat beside her, and smiled. "A little bird told me you had got yourself into a spot of bother, so I came to help with the mopping up."

"You came, I felt your presence, but I could not make Thranduil understand," said Márafea.

"Well, taking on Trolls and raising walls to the ground will do that to you, you know that. You are diminished here," scolded Glorfindel.

"But I had to do something, we were overwhelmed, they are my people and my concern," said Márafea.

Glorfindel smiled and squeezed her hand, "And you are my concern, if you are in peril, I will always come."

"What happened?" asked Márafea.

"Well, after you exhausted yourself, we turned up and helped to finish off the enemy, those Hillmen are a fearsome bunch but they were not expecting us. There are some brave folk among the Breelanders you know," replied Glorfindel.

"Breelanders?" asked Marafea.

"Yes, a group of volunteers calling themselves 'the Watchmen of Bree' joined us armed with pitchforks, knives and whatever else they could lay their hands upon. One old man even carried a frying pan, then used it to cook up a victory breakfast still covered in Orc blood," said Glorfindel. They both laughed.

"Thranduil, where is he? Is he or hurt or...." asked Márafea fearfully.

Glorfindel smiled, "Everyone is safe, take a look out of the window." Márafea got to her feet and stared out of the window, in the distance the shores of Lake Evendim was the tiny figure of Thranduil preparing to enter the water.

"I must go to him," she said.

"Thought you might say that, the door over there leads to steps that will bring you to the lake path," said Glorfindel.

Márafea sprang to her feet, "Thank you Glorfindel," she chimed as she exited the door. He looked out of the window, smiling as he watched her bounce down the steps as she had done in Rivendell as a child.

Elladan joined him, "You have not told her then."

"Not everything, the dead are not going anywhere, let them be happy for a time," said Glorfindel. They turned away from the window and smirked as Márafea reached the shore, dispensed with her clothing and joined her husband in the water.

"Thank you for coming, you arrived in the nick of time," said Elladan.

"I had to come, I must not return home empty handed," said Glorfindel.

"An army of Dúnedain went up into the hills, raised whatever Hillmen settlements they found to the ground, such was their anger. They put those who did not surrender to the sword," said Elladan.

"What happened to those who surrendered?" asked Glorfindel.

"Brought back as prisoners, to await the judgement of King Elessar, Elrohir has sent him a bird to him," said Elladan. "Even the women and children?" asked Glorfindel. "They are in the custody of the Wood Elves, Thranduil is ensuring they are well treated," said Elladan. "I suppose that is a comfort at least," said Glorfindel.

---------------------------------------

Fimas sobbed as she sat with the body of Glendi, her head still covered in bandages. A group of Dwarves, some also wounded, solemnly entered the makeshift infirmary. "We must take him home now, lass, to the Blue Mountains. Where he can lie beside his forefathers," said one of them.

The other Dwarves nodded in agreement. "I'm not going back, Fleto," replied Fimas firmly.

"Don't be silly lass, you need to tell your father and your aunt what happened here," said Fleto.

"You can tell them for me, I shall not be returning to the Blue Mountains. I want to see the world beyond the mountains, I want an adventure," said Fimas.

"That bump on the head has turned your wits, I fear, now forget all this adventuring nonsense. You are a lass and not yet of age to go anywhere, get your things and come along with us," demanded Fleto.

"Is all well, Fimas?" said a voice behind them. The Dwarves turned and looked up uneasily at Márafea, then bowed low.

Fimas stifled her tears and looked up at her, "Uncle Glendi was mortally wounded and has passed to the Great Halls of our Great Father."

"So I have been informed, I came to pay my respects. My condolences, Fimas," said Márafea. Fimas nodded gratefully.

The Fleto approached, "Thank you, Vice Regent, I was meaning to speak with you and your husband on a matter of some delicacy. We are about to leave with our Dead and...,"

Márafea smiled, "I assume you are seeking your payment. Fear not, you will find all that we promised waiting for you in the courtyard when you depart."

"Aye Vice Regent, we thank you for your attentiveness in this matter," said Fleto.

"There is, of course, a sum for you Fimas and compensation for the loss of your uncle," said Márafea.

Fimas stood up and approached Márafea, "Vice Regent, I wish not to return to the Blue Mountains. I know I am young, but I am no less brave. May I ask you, to take me into your service? For I wish to see the world beyond the mountains." At this other Dwarves voiced their objections, but Márafea silenced them.

She kneeled before Fimas and took her hand. "I do not think it would be right to take you into my service, Fimas, when your kin object so strongly." To which the other Dwarves all nodded in agreement. "However, I would be happy to invite you to return to my realm for the winter as my honoured guest. We shall be returning to Annúminas by next summer and you could return to the Blue Mountains then." The Dwarves looked at each other and spoke in hushed tones.

"May I visit Erebor?" asked Fimas.

Márafea smiled, "I think that would be expected, Fimas,"

Fleto cleared his throat, "Well, I suppose that would be, acceptable. If she was an honoured guest and paid her respects to our kinfolk in Erebor. But she is to return by the summer."