Hello again my fellow readers! This is probably the fastest update I have done for a long time! I really hope you enjoy this chapter and if you would review the story that would be most appreciated! :) I would also like the give a special shout-out to all my faithful anonymous reviewers. Thanks so much for your support! Anyway, on with the story!

Hope Rises

"Ten, eleven, twelve," Legolas muttered under his breath, keeping count of the people he fell. He could hear Gimli's gruff voice shouting, "Three!" The battle had only begun a few seconds ago and the Elf thought he was doing fairly well.

Upon his horse, Legolas felt like he had good position. Peter rode beside him, dispatching the enemy with his long sword. He led the charge well and now they were hacking through the lines of the enemy. Aragorn followed swiftly behind, bringing his infantry.

After another few minutes, Legolas jumped off his horse, to gain better balance when fighting with his blades. Peter dismounted too, so he wouldn't be as big of a target. They were both fighting brilliantly.

Suddenly, beside him, Legolas heard someone groan. Glancing over his shoulder, he saw Peter fall to his knees. The Elf sheathed his blades. Stringing his bow in a split second, he fell the man that was about to finish Peter off. Moving in, he covered his friend.

...

Out of the corner of his eye, Aragorn saw Peter go down. His heart drummed in his chest as his last thread of hope vanished. He would never forgive himself if he let the young noble king fall. He began edging his way toward the fallen king, hoping that he wasn't dead or fatally wounded.

Aragorn could see the men around Peter were trying to defend him. Finally, Aragorn reached the King of Narnia. He saw that he was breathing, but clutching his side. "Are you all right, my friend?" He inquired.

"A blade clipped my side, but I think I will be fine." Peter grunted.

"You should head back to the camp." Aragorn suggested.

"No, I couldn't do that." He protested, "Hand me my sword."

Aragorn picked up the Narnian sword, handing it to Peter. Helping him stand, he tried to convince his comrade to go back to the camp. "I can take care of things here on the battlefield. Go and bind up your wound."

"No," he shook his head, "I will not leave you."

Aragorn helped Peter up, clapping his shoulder. "You're a good man, Peter."

Peter nodded in acknowledgment and held his blade up, engaging his first enemy since his fall. The two kings fought side-by-side, hoping someone would come with aid. All around them, they could see their friends falling to the sheer mass of the enemy. Peter knew their troop wouldn't be able to withstand another half hour of this attack.

Quarter of an hour later, Peter heard something behind him. Glancing over his shoulder as he delivered another fatal blow, he saw something that caused his heart to leap. A troop of horsemen and Elves stood, awaiting their charge. Elrond, Galadriel, and Eomer had come to help.

...

Eomer reined in his excited horse who could feel horror of battle in the air. He evaluated the battle's dire situation for only a half a second. His herald sat on his horse next to him, awaiting the signal to charge.

Taking his horse and galloping down the line of horsemen, he began to rally them. "Men of Rohan, we have fought on this ground before, against the terrors of a dark lord. That day left us victorious and today it so shall be again! Today another evil faces us that we must defeat. We must claim another victory here, for Rohan and for the rest of the realm!" He held his sword aloft, pointing the tip to the men of Gondor who fought fiercely below, hailing them, "To our friends!"

"For Rohan!" His horsemen shouted as they charged into the fray. "For Middle Earth!"

Eomer rode strongly to meet their enemies. The men of Gondor began to cheer, renewed with hope. The King of Rohan knew the Elves were not far behind. He was ready to crush this new threat once and for all.

...

Elrond watched Eomer's troop charge down to the battle. They made quick work of the first several lines that the enemy formed. He knew they had to protect the city of Minas Tirith, for at this very moment the enemy was trying to breach into the city that had not yet been repaired from the last battle on the Pelennor Plain.

He was not only commanding those Elves from Rivendel, he was commanding the ones from the Golden Wood as well. Galadriel was to stay behind and make changes accordingly to their battle strategy. They had both heard that the Dwarves and Elves of Mirkwood were coming to their aid as well, but this hadn't been confirmed.

"Elves of Rivendel, of Lothlórien," he shouted, "I know you need no speech to convince you of the nobility of this quest, for you have all come willingly. This evil must be defeated; there must be no other outcome. We make for the city to protect its citizens. To battle!"

The Elves hastened to the city gate to prevent a breech. Thick lines of orcs were there to meet them. Arrows were loosened before they had reached their foes. The Elves engaged with their deadly blades.

The tide in the battle was turning…for now.

...

Adrinnd smiled viciously. The battle was surely to be won, for he had yet to release his secret weapon.

At that moment, his general ran in. "Rohan has come with their horsemen and the Elves have come too. What are we to do?"

"When things get rough in a dual what do you do?" Adrinnd smiled again.

The general was at a loss for what to say. "I-I'm sure I don't know."

"You cheat," Adrinnd laughed, "And win."

"You mean?" The general's dark eyebrows went up.

"Yes," Adrinnd nodded, "Bring out the secret weapon."

...

Eowyn and Lucy rode up to the battle, surveying the scene. The Elves and horsemen of Rohan had engaged the villains, relieving Aragorn and to Lucy's great relief, Peter.

"What should we do?" Eowyn asked as their guards went down to fight with the men of Rohan. "Fight?"

"I'd rather not fight," Lucy shook her head. "Let's go see if we can help in the camp."

"I came here to fight, not to do camp chores." Eowyn said a bit annoyed.

"We will fight if they need us to fight." Lucy said. "Let's go down into the camp and then see what we will do."

Trotting into the camp, they saw no one. The encampment was deserted. The tents fluttered in the late afternoon breeze, moaning in the wind. Everything was a mess, pots littered the ground, campfires were stamped out in haste, and pieces of garb lay around.

"Why is there no one here tending the wounded?" Lucy grumbled.

"They are all in battle. I doubt they can spare someone to help the injured." Eowyn said. "We should go and assist our comrades."

"Yes we should, but not by fighting." Lucy said. "We need to set up an infirmary and quickly."

"You mean wait around on dying men?" Eowyn was against the idea. "We need to go and fight the enemy that is threatening our countries."

"Don't you see?" Lucy inquired. "This is fighting the enemy. The more men we can save the better. Think of their wives and children. Tending the wounded is just as noble as fighting the enemy with a sword."

Eowyn pondered this thought for a moment. "I guess you're correct." She finally said. "Come, let us arrange bedding and begin preparing some food."

Within five minutes, Lucy and Eowyn had a pot of boiling soup going and several beds arranged. Lucy found as many garments as she could, tearing them into strips for bandages. Eowyn started another pot for more soup, kindling another fire.

"We need to begin to bring the wounded." Lucy said. "I have my healing cordial prepared for the direst of injuries and bandages for other more minor wounds."

"Let us use this blanket as a stretcher, for I cannot seem to find any." Eowyn held up a large sheet.

"You could find no stretcher?" Lucy questioned.

"No, I could find none." Eowyn responded.

"Well, I guess we will have to make do with what we have." She sighed. "Let's go."

They walked out onto the battlefield, taking in the horrors which war brought about. The first few men they checked had been dead for a while. The battle had moved more to the north, so they were not in danger of getting injured themselves.

"Please, help," one man groaned as they walked near him. The man who appeared to be from Gondor, looked like he had been lying in the grass for hours. He was missing a leg and had saved himself by administering a tourniquet to his wound. He was pale from pain, but was able to walk with a little help.

Once they had him upright, Lucy guided him back to the camp. She got him into bed, washing his wound and bandaging it. After giving him some food and washing the dirt from his face, she moved to the next man that Eowyn had brought back. This man had a deep gash on his back that seemed to have bled profusely.

For hours, the two women dealt with the injured accordingly. They worked until sunset as the battle raged on. They couldn't really tell who was winning, but they didn't bother with that. They were too busy with their work. By this time, they had more than three dozen men in the camp. They recruited the more capable knights to help attend to the wounded.

Finally, as the last of the sun's rays faded, the other men began to rotate in and out of battle. They were quite relieved to see that the girls had come to help prepare them food and make them comfortable.

Lucy cried out when she saw the battered Peter enter the camp. She held onto him tightly. "How are you? Where's Edmund?"

His face was pale, but he gave her a weak smile. "I'm fine."

She spotted his blooded side. "You're wounded." She gasped.

"Nothing that a little mending won't fix," he replied.

She guided him to a bed on which to lie. Taking off his armor and tunic, she examined his wound. The cut was deep, but had only penetrated the first layer of muscle and hadn't hit the bone. She washed and bandaged him up, giving him food and water.

"Where's Edmund?" She asked again as he ate.

"He went to spy on the enemy for us and hasn't returned." He said quietly.

"You don't think he was caught?"

"How can I be sure?" He shrugged. "He went to find Susan as well."

"What about the battle?" She inquired.

"Both sides are fighting stubbornly. We won't give up and neither are they." He drank quickly. "Aragorn is holding his troops together tremendously well, but I don't know how much longer they will last. Eomer and his troop have had some success, making the enemy retreat about half a mile back toward the mountains. Elrond managed to get his troops into Minas Tirith and is holding. He probably has the best position of us all." He drank his last drop and lay back on his pallet. "Wake me in half an hour, Aragorn needs a rest, though he insisted I go first to get my wound dressed."

"I will," Lucy gave his hand one last squeeze before she returned to her other duties.

She hoped Edmund and Susan were all right.

...

Edmund pushed down the hall, keeping his helmet firmly on his head. His hand ached from its broken state, but he ignored the pain, pressing on. He heard several men discussing the battle that was taking place down on the plain and he hoped that Peter and the rest were all right.

He heard one man boasting about a secret weapon they were about to deploy, which made him move faster. He went down every hall and into every room, he could find. He didn't find Susan, nor anything useful.

On the edge of giving up, he found a little hall that was empty and secluded from the rest of the cave. Glancing about to see if anyone was watching him, he slipped down the hall. Taking a torch off the wall, he found a small dungeon at the end of the corridor.

Peering into the small cell, he saw someone with dark hair. "Susan?" He said as his heart leap to his throat.

The woman looked up, but it was not Susan. Stepping toward the door, the lady asked. "Have you come to kill me?"

"No, of course not." Edmund shook his head. "Who are you?"

"You do not know me?" Her eyebrows arched.

"I'm sorry m'lady, I do not." He said awkwardly. "I am Edmund."

"Edmund?" She whispered. "Are you not Susan's younger brother?"

"Yes, I am." Edmund gasped. "Do you know where my sister is?"

"She is in a different cell and I'm not sure what they have done with her. We were separated two days ago." She informed him. "I am Arwen."

"You're Gondor's Queen and Aragorn's wife are you not?" He gasped.

"I am," she nodded.

Edmund looked around. "Do you have any idea where they keep the keys to this lock, m'lady?"

Before she could answer, they both heard someone coming down the hall. Edmund doused the torch and hid in the shadows. Arwen returned to her place and they were both silent.

A lone guard carrying a torch strode down the hall. He was armed, but unaware of Edmund's presence. In his hand jingled a ring of keys. As he stepped up to unlock the cell door, Edmund jumped out of the shadows, silting his throat immediately. Snatching up the torch, he fiddled with the keys for a moment and unlocked the door.

"Come with me." Edmund motioned to Arwen. "I will take you to safety, but it will be dangerous."

Arwen took the hand he offered, stepping over the dead guard. "My life is in your hands."

"I found the stable earlier, we will go there and acquire a horse." Edmund replied. "The soldiers are busy with the battle at hand and I hope we have little trouble."

"Battle?" Arwen gasped. "What battle?"

"The battle for Middle Earth and Narnia," Edmund said simply, "Now we must be silent."

They rushed down the hall and managed to slip into the stable with little trouble. The other soldiers were more toward the front of the cavern, waiting for their orders to head out to battle. Jumping into the stable, Edmund shut the door softly. There was no one else in the makeshift barn. There were a couple horses in the stable. Edmund spotted a black horse that was sleek and strong. He saddled the horse as Arwen hid behind the stall door.

"We are to ride out?" She inquired softly. "That seems dangerous."

"We have to use the element of surprise. Once we are out of the cavern, we can hide in the woods and make our way back to our friends." He replied, putting a finger to his lips.

Helping her mount, he jumped in front of her. Unleashing his sword, he commanded the horse to fly. The horse shot out of the stable quarters and into the main room. The soldiers were caught off their guard and didn't quite know how to respond. Finally, they snapped to attention, realizing that one of their prisoners were escaping.

Edmund flew out of the main entrance atop the fast steed. Arwen clutched to him as they made down the steep mountainside into the gully. A group of riders flew out of the cavern a minute later, perusing their prisoner. Edmund tossed his helmet off for better vision, turning up a steep slope into the woods. The horse strained against the steepness as they ascended the mountain.

They made their way slowly to the south side of the mountain and caught a glimpse of the plain below them. The sun was the bright orange of sunset and made the grassy field below look like it were on fire. Edmund groaned, pulling up the horse. They had taken the wrong path.

The enemy's whole army stood between them and Minas Tirith.

...

Rabadash kept his visor down and hurried through the cave. He carried Susan's bow and arrows under his dark cape. After searching down several corridors, he spotted Arrakk going down a hall. He followed him, hoping to get his revenge.

He was half way down the hall when he saw the Prince lifting his sword to strike something. Rabadash saw a dark haired figure in front of him and saw that the person wore a dress. Catching the sound of her voice, he knew she was the Queen of Narnia and she was about to be killed by Arrakk.

Rabadash knew he couldn't reach Arrakk before he killed her. Frantically, he looked around for a way to save the Queen. Glancing down he saw her bow in his hands. Whipping out an arrow, he strung the bow. His hands shook. The Prince of Calormen had never been very good with the bow. His aim was terrible and now he wished he had worked harder on his archery.

He knew he had only one shot. His hands trembled as he raised the bow. Pulling back gently, he took a deep breath and released the arrow. The arrow whistled through the air and hit Arrakk squarely in the back. The Prince dropped to the floor, dead.

Rabadash was surprised by his shot, but ran forward to Susan. "Are you all right?"

"Yes," she was pale and a bit surprised to see him, "We need to get out of here. Aslan said there was some dark magic that we have to stop." She suddenly stopped. "How did you get here?"

"We have not the time for me to explain." He said quickly. "Where is this dark magic?"