"It's hopeless!" Cirdan exclaimed as he slammed a fist on the table. "We're completely surrounded. There's no way to call for help now."

Glorfindel let out a reluctant sigh of agreement. "Even I am beginning to think that victory here is unlikely."

"Victory is no longer an option."

All in the room turned to Caledorn, who was leaning against a thick pillar near one of the room's corners.

"What do you mean?" Taliel asked, slightly confused at Caledorn's confident tone.

"We will die fighting, on the offensive," Caledorn replied as he strode to the table. "The orcs are expecting a long siege. We cannot give them what they expect, we can inflict the most casualties if we take the initiative."

"Why do casualties even matter at this point?" Taliel insisted. "We'll all die anyway."

"Yes," Caledorn said. "But our sacrifice could keep this orc host from ravaging the West. If we cripple their forces we can prevent them from having free reign to raid freely."

At the dark-armored elf's words there was silence. Glorfindel nodded slowly in agreement, while Taliel and Cirdan seemed uncertain. Caledorn knew that there was little to no chance of surviving the coming battle. But he would not die like a caged animal here. He would make a stand worthy of the protector he was.

"Are you with me?" He asked.

Glorfindel stepped forward and placed his fist upon his chest. "I am, gwador. Let us do what we can to keep the West safe."

Taliel nodded as her eyes met Caledorn's. "Perhaps we can stop them from wreaking further havoc."

Cirdan shook his head reluctantly, finally closing his eyes and nodding. "It seems as if that is our only choice. Let us make our last battle one worthy of remembrance."

======================================

Night had fallen by the time the survivors had prepared for battle. The city was still alight with flames, but the orcs had set up camps outside of the observatory and were no longer looting. Their raucous laughter and the occasional sound of a fight could be heard, and it sounded as if many of the orcs were drunk.

"Grog... Orcs thrive off of that putrid filth," Caledorn said, disgust evident in his voice.

"All the better for us though, we may be able to take them by surprise," Taliel replied as she watched out of one of the observatory's many windows.

"I shall take a company of archers to the right of their camp along the docks," Cirdan said. "We can have more archers at the windows here, ready to fire on our signal."

"I'll take what horsemen we have to flank them on the left. We can charge in once the archers are done firing." Glorfindel ran a finger along the blade of his sword, making sure that it was sharp.

"Taliel and I will charge out through the front doors on the signal," Caledorn asserted. "With luck we might be able to kill all of them before they have a chance to assemble."

"There's still the orcs outside the walls," Cirdan replied. "We won't be able to kill them all."

"No, but having the cavalry on that side will ensure that we aren't flanked," Glorfindel countered. "We should be able to inflict heavy casualties in very little time if all goes as planned."

"Well..." Cirdan mused before shrugging his shoulders. "We have little to lose. May the Eldar watch over us this night."

Fortune indeed seemed to be on their side, Glorfindel thought as he led the small company of horsemen through the deserted side roads. The moon was covered by dark clouds, making anywhere that wasn't lit by the still-burning embers of the fires pitch black. The orcs had neglected to set a watch anywhere in the city; Most likely, they hadn't expected any form of counterattack from within.

The horses' hooves were muffled, for the elves had wrapped them in thick padded leather. Aside from the occasional whinny they were completely silent as they made their way through the city. Each elf was heavily armored and carried a heavy lance as well as a swan-shaped shield. These were the best of Mithlond's soldiers. The were known as the Knights of the White Shore, and Glorfindel had only had the honor of leading them once before.

Glorfindel knew that even despite the element of surprise their chances of success were low, if impossible. He had fought enough battles to be able to see when an army had lost. It saddened him, and a great burden was upon his heart at the thought of so many valiant warriors giving their lives. He was unaffected by the thought of his own demise, for he had been fortunate to survive as long as he had. But many of the elves that were going into battle now were young. He had spoken to one young guard who had only just taken the oaths of the Mithlond Guard. The young warrior had shown no visible fear, but Glorfindel knew from experience that the boy was almost certainly sick to his stomach at the thought of battle. No elf that he had met enjoyed war... Save Caledorn, who was an anomaly in more ways than one. Though Glorfindel was unsure whether Caledorn actually enjoyed war or was just strangely unaffected by its horrors.

Regardless, Glorfindel knew that they must make a stand here... For if they failed to, Middle Earth would surely fall. And that was no exaggeration.

A small light flashed from one of the observatory windows, signaling Glorfindel to move his men into attacking formation. He pulled himself away from his thoughts, focusing on the battle at hand.

"Diamond formation," he whispered, making a diamond shape with his hands. Those who didn't hear him knew what the gesture meant, and they quickly and silently moved to obey the order. Glorfindel planned to strike quickly, and inflict as many casualties as possible in the initial charge. The orcs were disorganized, and in addition to heavy losses Glorfindel hoped that they would flee.

He lifted his eyes to the observatory window, watching keenly for the light that would be the next signal. It would come soon...

========================================

Meanwhile, as Glorfindel and Cirdan's men advanced, Taliel watched from the window of the observatory anxiously. She could barely make out Cirdan and the archers making their away stealthily from crate to crate on the docks, and she had lost sight of Glorfindel's men entirely.

"They're almost in position," Caledorn said with a nod from where he stood beside Taliel. "We're most fortunate that the orcs failed to set guards over their camp."

Taliel nodded, leaning against the side of the window as she watched the orcs outside. After a moment of silence, she noticed that Caledorn was watching her intently.

"What's wrong?" She asked, turning to face him.

"You're frightened," he replied. He didn't say it in a belittling way, he almost sounded... Concerned. If that was possible for the stoic warrior.

"You have to admit, our chances of getting out of here alive are next to none," She replied as she turned away again.

"Yes," Caledorn said with a single nod. "But our deaths may save countless others." Somehow the way he said the words seemed halfhearted, as though he himself did not believe them.

"Do you fear death?" Taliel asked quietly as she drew slightly closer.

Caledorn looked down, his eyes refusing to meet hers. It seemed that with a single question she had broken his façade of resolve. "No... At least, I never used to. Of late though..." He trailed off, a frown coming over his features.

"What changed?" Taliel asked.

"I do not know. It's as if demons that I never before had have begun to haunt me," Caledorn replied, pain clear in his voice. Taliel felt sympathy for him, for it was clear that he had gone through much.

"We all have our demons, Caledorn," She said, resting a comforting hand on his shoulder. "Some of us have worse demons than others. I will not pretend to know yours. But you can fight them."

Caledorn turned to her, his eyes filled with sadness. She had never seen such emotion in those eyes before. "I've already tried. And I've already lost."

"As long as you still draw breath, you haven't lost," Taliel replied. "Keep fighting. And know that if you don't feel strong enough to fight any longer... I'm here. We are all here. You are strong enough to defeat whatever demons you are fighting."

Caledorn gave her a thin smile. "Thank you m'lady. I do not know why it is affecting me as much as it is... But I will not let it cloud my judgement in the coming battle."

She was not entirely convinced that he was telling the truth, but returned the smile regardless. "We should probably send the signal."

Caledorn nodded, immediately returning to his stony demeanor. With a quick movement he lit the large candle that sat on the windowsill, his catlike eyes peering into the darkness, looking for a response.

=========================================

"Han tol i tann," Cirdan whispered to his lieutenant as he saw the light from the window. The other elf nodded and drew his longbow back, aiming into the air. The other archers followed suit, many of them lighting their arrows on fire.

"Min... Tad... Naur!" Cirdan cried. As a single unit the archers' bows sang, a thick cloud of arrows rising into the night sky.

Seconds later the cries of the orcs reached their ears as the arrows met their targets. Screams of pain and fear echoed through the city as many of the orcs began to run around in blind terror.

"Where'd they come from??" One of the orcs screeched as he looked fearfully into the sky. He was too busy watching for more arrows that he ran directly into Cirdan. The bearded elf quickly drew his dagger and sliced the orc's neck, simultaneously signaling for the archers to let loose another volley.

"Dar naur!" He cried after the elves had fired. "Horta I tan!"

His lieutenant lit a single arrow and let it loose, soaring over the heads of the orcs. As it reached its highest point it exploded in blue flames that slowly drifted to the ground.

No sooner had the arrow exploded than Glorfindel and the Knights of the White Shore appeared further down the road, charging forward in a spearlike formation. The orcs that had been running in that direction turned around in a mad panic, trampling their own comrades in an effort to escape the elven knights.

Cirdan rose up from his position on the docks and rallied his men. "Charge!! To battle!" He cried as he ran forward, sword raised high. His men dropped their bows and drew their swords, joining behind him and letting out a battle cry.

By now most of the orcs had formed into a loose circle, fearfully making a last stand against the elves. But Glorfindel and his knights immediately shattered through their ranks, killing most of them in the initial charge. So great was the force of their attack that many of the orcs were sent flying, only to be cut down by Cirdan and his archers who were charging from the opposite direction.

The orcs attempted to stand their ground, but the combined power of the two forces was too much for them. The archers cut down orc after orc, their swords gleaming with the black blood of their enemies. The Knights of the White Shore were making their way through the orc lines, still in formation as they trampled them.

Suddenly, the gates of the observatory flung themselves open with a loud clang, and Caledorn rushed from them. He led what was left of the elven warriors as they marched forth from the building. Many of them were spearmen, and they rushed to cover the flanks of the cavalry as they finished off the enemy.

"Caledorn, look to the main road!" Glorfindel shouted over the din of battle as he pointed toward the main gate. Caledorn saw torches and hundreds upon hundreds of orcs making their way down the road, and several trolls lumbered along with them. Evidently the orcs camped outside the wall had been alerted by the sounds of battle within.

"Spearmen! Shield wall!" He cried, ordering his men into position. The elves, though well trained, looked fearful as they saw the armored trolls among the orc ranks. Despite their fears, however, they formed into a wall, their spears poking out between the shields like the spikes of a porcupine.

The trolls began to move ahead of the orcs, their massive clubs in hand as they forged ahead. As soon as they were close enough the spearmen began to stab at them, but the thick armor they wore made them immune to the attacks. One of the trolls made a wide sweep with his club, knocking the entire first rank of spearmen to the ground. The other trolls began to follow suit, and it was clear that the spearmen didn't stand a chance against the powerful beasts. Caledorn and Taliel rushed forward, leaping in unison onto the back of one of the trolls. Taliel planted her dagger deep into the troll's neck, but it barely seemed to notice. Caledorn, however, had set to work unfastening the harness of the troll's chestplate, and once Taliel saw what he was doing she did the same.

After a moment the armor gave way, and the moment there was an opening several spearmen immediately impaled the troll. It let out a single earsplitting roar before falling to the ground with a crash.

Taliel gave Caledorn an approving nod as she followed him to the next troll. But unfortunately for both of them, the beast had seen the fall of his comrade and was ready for them.

It spun around with a low growl and swiftly swung its club, catching Caledorn by surprise. The elf flew through the air, his flight stopped short by a crumbling stone pillar that he hit with a sickening crunch.

Taliel managed to dodge the troll's attack, but instead of going on the offensive she moved between the troll and the fallen warrior.

"Stay away, beast!" She growled as she raised her sword protectively in front of her. The troll slowly moved closer, brandishing its spiked club.

Suddenly its eyes rolled up into its head and it collapsed, revealing the gleaming silver armor of Glorfindel. His sword was planted deep into the back of its skull.

"Quickly, we must fall back!" He exclaimed as he leapt to the ground in front of her. She began to point to Caledorn but Glorfindel was already making his way over to the elf, his eyes darting back and forth to make sure there wasn't an immediate threat. As soon as he was clear he lightly picked the dark-armored warrior up and signaled for Taliel to follow him.

There was a relatively clear path through to the elven ranks, though Taliel had to cut down a few orcs on the way. As they proceeded through the city she could see that they were losing the battle. The orcs had regrouped and were beginning to surround the elves, who were forming into a defensive square in the middle of the city.

When they had reached safety Glorfindel gently set Caledorn down in the center of the square, where many other wounded elves lay.

Cirdan, who had seen them approaching, made their way over to them. He was covered in blood and for a moment Taliel thought he was badly wounded, before realizing that the blood belonged to other elves who the bearded harbormaster had been tending to.

"The situation is most grim," he said with a shake of his head. "We're completely surrounded and we have very little in the way of medical supplies. We managed to kill quite a few of them, but we must have underestimated their numbers."

"Put the spearmen on the outer sides of the square and the archers within. The knights can dismount and defend the wounded." Glorfindel looked about, realizing just how few of the knights had survived.

Cirdan and Taliel hurried to organize the troops as Glorfindel watched the enemy. They were quickly moving to cut off the last chances of escape the elves had, and still more of them were pouring through the gates.

Though the elves were quick to move into position, the orcs were quicker. Elvish cries of despair came from the left flank as a troll began to break through the ranks. Glorfindel leapt into motion, hurrying to fill the gap that was widening there.

"Ai! There are too many!" One of the spearmen cried as he threw down his shield and ran. Others held the line but were cut down as the orcs continued to advance. When one orc fell several more leapt to take his place. It was clear that the elves were quickly faltering.

One of the Knights of the White Shore saw this, and although he knew it would do little good, lifted a great white horn to his lips and blew it in a final attempt to rally the soldiers.

But to the surprise of all in the city... Another horn answered in the distance.

Glorfindel looked to the hills that surrounded the city, and his eyes widened in surprise. He spotted banners upon the hillsides, and rank upon rank of armored warriors stood ready to descend into the valley.

"Rivendell! That's the horn of Rivendell!" The knight who had first blown the horn cried joyfully. He lifted the horn to his lips once more and let out two short blasts, signaling to the elves on the hills overlooking the city that they needed help.

But Glorfindel saw that the banner of Rivendell wasn't the only one on the hills. To the direct north there flew the square banner of the Blue Mountain Dwarves. Gerithor had come.

So as you may have noticed, I was kind of late on publishing this. I had really, really bad writer's block and have been quite busy for the last few weeks. Sorry guys! I'll work on publishing more often.