[piosenniel]

Time and patience had run out for Pio. Mithadan was determined to coax Rose into coming with them, and Pio could see Rose's resolve would not be put aside by words or promises. She pulled Child aside and said tersely, 'Tell Mithadan I will meet him back at Idril's house with or without Rose.'

She sped back southward, knowing full well that when the serpents reached the summit of the walls, then would Morgoth's armies pour over the city. Idril's house would be burned and the possibility of escape would grow exceedingly thin.

By the time she reached the house, the sky had grown red and redder. Serpents of fire had entered the city. Legions of foul orc had begun to sweep through the ways and alleys, spurred on by the presence of the balrogs.

The riotous clamor of battle now increased - shouts of the dread slayers mixing with the grim cries of the beleaguered and the dying.

She stood upon the terrace of Idril's house and looked out at the relentless advance of destruction. The Tower of the King still stood. And she could see the spray of the fountain before it, as it shot into the air, though the reflection of the serpents' fires now made it seem like blood.

Even as she stood there, she thought to go to the great square and lend her sword to the defense. But Idril stayed her with a hand, and asked the service of her weapons stay close. The Lady held her own sword in readiness as she scanned the area for approaching foe.

Too soon the battle came to them. The guards that Tuor had left engaged a small band of orcs. The song of steel rang in the courtyard as Pio ran down to join the fray.

She pulled the small knives from her baldric and threw them at two orcs attacking a wounded guard. One dropped with a knife to his neck. The other staggered from a leg wound, and she dropped him with a cut from her now drawn blade.

The yard was full of shouts and screams and heavy with the scent of blood. A controlled sort of chaos reigned as she and the other three guards formed a fighting line and advanced with sword and knife, slaying and pushing back the foul foe.

Then more orcs poured in, and the small band of defenders gave way before the increased number. Fighting with grim resolve, they sought a position from which to make a stand. But some of the orcs had gained entrance by the back way, and now the unknowing defenders stood tightly ringed by enemy. And still they fought on, the fury of their blows hewing down a rising number of attackers.

Death surprised her, when it came - a sudden flowering, dark red, spread across the front of her rent shirt as a craven spear pierced her from behind; a sharp'O!', as her blood welled over her fingers, spilling to the ground. Then came darkness, and the welcome release from pain.