“Do you know the plan?” King Elessar asked the Mirkwood Prince.

“I do,” the Elf replied solemnly.

As the king turned to look out over the fields at the massive army gathered there in the outskirts of the city, a chill wind blew past them, whipping the banners and flags about.  The city was preparing for open war against Saruman as all of Gondor’s armies readied to march to Isengard.

“Where are the men from Dol Amroth?” the king asked as he found them missing from the ranks.

“The messengers said that Prince Imrahil could not be found,” Legolas replied, “It would seem that he’s been missing for a few days now.”

“What about Rohan?” Merry inquired, “They haven’t arrived either.”

“Éomer seems to be missing as well,” Gandalf replied, “The Lady Éowyn is governing in his stead and will need the Rohirrim to protect their own lands.”

“Do you think Saruman took them as well?” the King of Gondor pondered.

“Anything is possible with that foul wizard,” Gandalf responded bitterly.

“What if we‘re too late?” King Elessar asked softly.

“If Saruman somehow has managed to capture Lienan and bring forth this new evil she warned us about before we reach them, then I’m afraid we only have one choice,” Gandalf replied, glancing somberly at Legolas, “We must be willing to do all that we can to destroy it.”

“No!” the Mirkwood Elf exclaimed, “I will not kill my own sister!”

“If she is permitted to live then all this land will be nothing but a barren wasteland; a desert,” Gandalf protested.

“Is there no way to destroy the evil and save her as well?” King Elessar asked sympathetically.

“If there is, I cannot see it,” the kind wizard replied.

The Hobbits Merry and Pippin both bowed their heads in sadness at the wizard’s response.  Seeing their grief, King Elessar placed a hand on each of their shoulders and squeezes them in comfort before he left to prepare to march off with the army.

At the same time, Saruman was also forming his army in Isengard.  This was a new army, much stronger than his Uruk-hai army that he had created at the Dark Lord‘s demand.  These creatures were that of Orcs and men and were enchanted by the dark magic of Saruman.  Thousands of them lined outside the tower of Orthanc awaiting the command of their master.

“We will lead them to victory,” Saruman mused proudly to Lienan as he looked out on his army, “Prepare the troops to set out.”

Nodding obediently in her black armour, Lienan placed her helm over her head to hide her face from their opponents before she left to lead the army into battle against Gondor.

“If we defeat Gondor, then none will stand in my way,” the wizard gloated to himself before following his servant out of the tower.

Meanwhile, in the dungeon of Orthanc, Haldir, Maelute, and Frodo were watching the army of creatures gathering outside of the tower.  

“What sort of army is that?” Frodo inquired in amazement.

“An unstoppable one enchanted by dark magic,” Haldir replied bluntly, “I can feel it running through them.”

“And her,” Maelute added, “So much hatred runs through her veins.”

“But it’s not her,” the Lórien Elf protested, “It’s that foul creature inside of her.”

“If only I knew what creature Saruman has brought forth perhaps I can find a way to save her from it,” the Elf from the Haven said in despair.

“If we could get out of here, we may be able to find the scrolls Saruman used to summon the creature,” Haldir suggested.

“But how do we get out with a massive army waiting outside?” Frodo asked in despair as he looked out the barred windows of his cage.

At that particular moment, the massive armies of both Isengard and Gondor were setting out of their respective lands to meet the other on neutral territory in the Fields of Rohan.  The entire day, the two armies marched in grim silence as they approached their doom with pride and determination.  The armies stood in a deafly silence on the empty fields as the sun began to set over the horizon; eying each other from a great distance.  Without a word said, the two armies charged towards each other in one grand and massive assault.

Meanwhile back in Isengard, the battle could be heard in the far off distance as the three imprisoned there listened helplessly.  

“They’ve started,” Maelute stated grimly, “With Lienan at the head of Saruman’s army no doubt.”

“And the others won’t know it’s her, not with her helm on,” the Hobbit pointed out.

“She is a strong fighter even without the aid of the monster inside of her,” the Lorien Guard said confidently, “I would be amazed if they were able to do much damage to her, especially in this state.”

All knew the strength that Lienan possessed as the Protector of Middle-earth.  There was no doubt that with the foul creature inside of her, she would leave a trail of dead bodies in her wake.  

“We need to get out of here and fine that scroll!” Maelute shouted in anger.

“Did someone say they needed to get out?” Legolas inquired as he appeared outside the cages holding the keys.

“Legolas!” the Haven Elf exclaimed with joy as she ran to the bars.

“Why aren’t you at the battle?” Frodo questioned curiously.

“The plan was for me to come to Isengard while it was empty and free you,” Legolas explained as he unlocked the cells. Then taking a look around he asked in confusion, “Where is Lienan?”

Not having the heart to tell the Mirkwood Prince the truth about his sister, the trio grimly glanced at each other in silence before casting their gazes to the ground.

“Where is my sister?” Legolas asked in a demanding voice as his concern increased with each silent second.

“We came too late,” Haldir replied hesitantly when the others refused to look at the blonde prince.

“Tell me everything,” Legolas said sternly.

The Elven Prince listened closely as the tale of what happened behind the walls of Isengard when they had left Gondor and were imprisoned in Isengard.  He could look nowhere else but the ground in rage as they explained the reasons for his sister’s willingness to lead Saruman’s demonic army against her friends.  Finally, with a spark of hope, the listened as they told of how his dear sister might be saved.

“Saruman is a master of lore and has spent an Age studying all the tales of Middle-earth,” the Elven prince pointed out, “By the time we find the right scroll it will be too late to save anyone.”

“I’m not so sure about that,” the Hobbit commented, “Saruman was really anxious to battle against Gondor, he might not have had time to put up the scrolls.”

“There’s only one way to find out,” Maelute commented as she hurried up the stairs out of the dungeon.

They all followed behind as she rushed to Saruman’s chambers high at the top of the Tower of Orthanc.  There on the table next to the palantír was a worn-down scroll.  Eager to save her longtime friend from the prison she was in, Maelute quickly grabbed the scroll expressions of horror and clarity gracing her face as she hurriedly reads over it’s contents.

“What is it?” Legolas asked seeing the expression on her usually unreadable face.

“I know what to do,” the Elf from the Haven said as she headed out, scroll in hand.

~*~

On the Fields of Rohan a great battle raged on.  Many were already laying on the ground dead.  Saruman was hiding in the shadows enjoying the massacre of the Gondor army as well as his own.  Lienan was indeed at the head of the Isengard army.  King Elessar saw this dark figure and looked at her with amazement, not knowing that it was his old friend.

“So you are the one leading the Uruk-hai,” King Elessar said to himself.

As she battled her way through Gondor’s defenses single-handedly, the King watched with interest; studying her fighting style only to realize that it was a familiar one.

“There is only one person I know who fights like that,” he said in shock as the possessed elf drew nearer and nearer to the stunned king.

Seeing that King Elessar was watching her closely, Lienan stopped in the midst of battle to stare back at her former friend.

“Lienan?” the King of Gondor called softly, unsure if his eyes were deceiving him.

Hearing her former name being called, the Elf smirked as she removed her helm to reveal the familiar face that the King of Gondor knew all too well.  But her eyes were the cold and blackness of evil instead of the crystal blue innocence that they usually held.  Her face remained emotionless as she stared back at the shocked Gondor ruler.  The next thing King Elessar know, King Éomer and Prince Imrahil had appeared by her side.

“So Saruman did take them as well,” the Gondor ruler commented.

The three possessed victims of Saruman stared back at him with so much hatred and anger that King Elessar found it difficult look at them without feeling a bit of sadness within him knowing that he will have to face his friends in battle.  And just as quickly they had appeared, they were gone in a blink of an eye; lost in the battlefield.  

The sight of the battered bodies of his mean scattered across the field was enough for King Elessar to retreat.  His army was in need of rest and there were wounds that needed to be tended.  

Lienan smiled with satisfaction as she watched the Gondor army limp away towards their home in Minas Tirith.  In the distance she saw with her Elven eyes four riders speeding their way towards the White City as well; knowing that it was the escaped prisoners in Orthanc.  

“Perfect,” she said, grinning to herself, “They can all be together when they die.”